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#some whump with a dollop of fluff
kybercrystals94 · 3 months
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Hide and Seek and Training
Read here on Ao3!
Febuwhump 2024 | Day 9 | Prompt 9: Bees
Rated: T | Words: 2496 | Summary: Training with Omega goes awry when bees become involved. [Character Focus: Tech, Omega, Hunter, Wrecker, Echo]
“I love this game,” Wrecker whispers loudly to Omega, interrupting Hunter for the third time.
Tech adjusts his goggles irritably. “This isn’t a game, Wrecker. This is training.”
“If it’s training, then why is it fun?”
“I think all training is fun!” Omega pipes up happily.
Hunter sighs. “Can we just get through the instructions before we decide what’s fun and what’s not? Please?”
Echo chuckles from his perch on the Marauder’s ramp. “Kids, listen to your dad!” he calls out.
“Maker help me,” Hunter mutters. He takes a breath and starts again. “Alright. Omega, Wrecker, and Tech…you three, separately, are going to find places in the woods to lay low. Make sure to cover your tracks. After ten minutes, we’re going to see how long it takes me to find you.”
“And the last one found, wins!” Wrecker practically shouts.
Another sigh. “Sure,” Hunter agrees reluctantly.
“This sounds a lot like hide and seek,” Omega comments, smiling brightly up at Wrecker.
“The strategies are similar,” Tech admits, “however, this is a survival simulation.”
Wrecker laughs. “Can we start, Sarge?”
“Get out of here,” Hunter says, waving them off with a grin.
Wrecker and Omega are off like blaster shots, tearing into the forest like their very lives depend on it. Hunter can hear them crashing through the undergrowth even after they’ve disappeared from sight. At this rate, he won’t have to use his enhancements at all to pick up their trail.
Tech takes a much more tactical approach, starting the timer on his chrono and heading out in the opposite direction of his far more enthusiastic siblings. He is absolutely going to give Hunter a run for his credits.
Hunter ambles over to Echo and sits down next to his cyborg brother, glancing at his own chrono to keep track of the time.
“Who are you going after first?” Echo asks.
Hunter chuckles. “How upset do you think Tech would be if I made him lose to Wrecker?”
“You’d better start sleeping with one eye open if you go that route,” Echo muses.
“Well, then, I guess I’ll just play it by ear and see what happens,” Hunter decides, leaning back on his elbows, ready to enjoy the peace and quiet these ten minutes will indulge him.
<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>
Omega stops suddenly, turning to look back at where she came from. She can’t see the Marauder through the trees anymore. Perfect. Glancing around, she kneels and touches the cool, damp earth with her fingertips. Hunter will be able to track her to this point easily. Just as she planned. It will make it much more fun when she disappears like a ghost.
With little effort, Omega clambers up the nearest tree, the toes of her boots finding quick purchase in the gnarled bark, and her fingers easily curling around protruding knots. She makes it to the first branch in seconds, and straddles it for a moment to plan her next move. The neighboring tree has a branch nearly touching hers, so she stands and edges her way toward it. A small jump later, and she claims the adjacent tree.
A few minutes lates, Omega is more than half a dozen trees away from where she started. Hunter will begin his search soon. She might have the advantage of him going after her more experienced brothers first; however, she can also imagine him coming after her first, if only to make sure she is safe. Therefore, she needs to get herself out of sight as quickly as possible, just in case.
Omega begins to climb higher, where the leaves and branches become denser. She smiles to herself, wondering if Hunter will be surprised at how well she has done. Her training is finally paying off.
She is so distracted by her joyous thoughts that she doesn’t notice the humm of agitated buzzing just to her left as she settles comfortably onto a thick branch, peering down through the soft leaves.
After a few minutes of quiet, Omega feels the sensation of legs on the back of her neck. She stiffens, resisting the urgent impulse to reach up and slap away the unknown creature. If she threatens it, whatever it is might sting or bite. She prays it has wings and will just fly away on its own. Then the sensation tickles down to the collar of her shirt.
No, no, no, Omega thinks desperately, not down my shirt!
She catches movement on her arm out the corner of her eye. Turning her head, she sees an insect, brightly colored, winged, and armed with a stinger. Omega releases a shuddering breath when she sees another join its friend on her sleeved arm, and another flying lazily past her face.
She notices the buzzing now.
Slowly, Omega looks back at where the branch she sits on meets the tree. Tucked into the crook, a muddy looking structure is swarming with the colorful insects. Bees, Omega’s memory supplies frantically.
She needs to get down from here.
<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>
Tech has found the perfect hiding place when his comm pings. Internalizing a sigh of frustration, he glances down at the source code. Crosshair’s old source code…Omega’s current source code. He answers immediately. “Omega?”
“Tech,” Omega’s voice is strained and hushed. She sounds terrified. “I need help. I don’t know what to do!”
“Alright. First, we must remain calm. Tell me exactly what is wrong and where you are,” Tech says, keeping his own voice temperate. He pulls out his data pad and begins the trace on Omega’s beacon.
Omega’s voice quakes, and Tech thinks she might be crying. “I’m–in a tree…and there’s bees? A lot of bees, and they are everywhere! They have stingers, and I’m afraid they’ll sting me if I move.”
Not an unreasonable fear to have under the circumstances. Tech climbs down from his hiding place and begins to follow the beacon at a brisk pace. He plans to briefly research the type of insects Omega has encountered during his trek. It might be vital to her safe extraction from the situation. “Can you describe what these ‘bees’ look like? Do you see their domicile?”
“Uhm,” Omega’s voice wobbles through distractedly, “Yeah. They’re colorful…red and blue and orange and yellow with black stripes. And they have a hive that looks like it’s made out of mud…maybe?”
Tech types in the brief description and pulls up an article on the species. Polychromatic Wasps. His eyes drift over the information briefly. “Alright, Miss Omega, I am enroute to your location now. It seems that this particular species of wasp - or bee - will not attack unless they feel threatened. My recommendation is that you remain perfectly stationary until I arrive.”
“I’m scared,” Omega admits weakly.
Tech hesitates. “I understand. We will have you out of this situation in short order, and you will be fine. I promise.”
“Okay,” Omega says. A slight strengthening in her tone suggests that she believes him.
<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>
Hunter is surprised when he hears Tech’s familiar tread coming toward him, and is even more surprised at the speed at which his brother is moving. He comes into view a moment later, not even glancing up from his data pad as he approaches Hunter. “Omega is in distress. We must get to her location immediately.”
Tact and gentle verbal blows are not among Tech’s enhancements. Hunter’s heart rate accelerates to what feels like an inhuman speed. “What? Where is she?” he demands, falling into hurried step next to Tech.
“I’ve got her location locked,” Tech tells him. “She says that she came across a wasp nest when she climbed a tree. She is unharmed at present, just frightened.”
Hunter at first questions why Omega would comm Tech before any of her other brothers, especially brothers that might be closer to her aid. It dawns on him that Omega – always resourceful – would have called Tech first in order for him to provide her the information she would need until rescue came. She knows how to utilize her brothers’ strengths, and for that, he is incredibly proud of her.
“Here,” Tech says, stopping at the base of a tree. He looks up. “Omega?” he calls out.
A small voice calls back from the depths of the leaves and branches. “I’m here, Tech. They haven’t stung me.”
“Excellent!” Tech calls back. He starts to remove his pack.
“I can go,” Hunter says, already putting his hands to the trunk to find his first grips.
Tech shakes his head, dropping his pack to the ground and nudging Hunter aside. “I am far better suited to the task…and I’ll need you down here to catch her when I drop her down.”
“Wait, what?” Hunter asks in alarm, but Tech is already climbing.
<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>
Omega almost bursts into tears of relief when Tech appears through the leaves and branches. But she holds them back with a painful swallow, keenly aware that she now has at least a dozen bees crawling over her person, with dozens more flying about, perturbed about their motionless intruder.
Tech climbs the rest of the way up onto the branch, bracing himself so that he is facing Omega. “I have a plan,” he says immediately.
Omega gives the tiniest nod. “Okay.”
“It seems that the wasps are becoming agitated, probably due to the presence of your scent in their territory,” Tech continues. “That is why we are going to remove you from the situation rather abruptly.”
“How?”
“I am going to drop you down from the tree, and Hunter is going to catch you. That is the fastest way.”
“Am I going to get stung?” Omega asks. “They’re all over me!”
Tech moves closer, slowly. “I can see that. Unfortunately, there is the possibility that any or all of us will be stung. While it is painful and not ideal, it is not deadly. Clones are not allergic to bee or wasp stings.”
Omega knows Tech means to be encouraging; however, just the idea of being stung renews her impulse to cry. She sniffs, willing herself to be brave. After all, she got herself into this mess, and her brothers are bravely getting her out, at the risk of being stung themselves.
Taking a deep, fortifying breath, Omega says, “Okay, tell me what I need to do.”
<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>
Hunter hates that the canopy of leaves is shielding his siblings from view, although he can hear Omega and Tech talking in hushed tones — which means, he supposes, that they are okay for the moment. If she hadn’t happened to come across a wasp nest doing it, Hunter would be very impressed with Omega’s hiding place. Obviously, though, they still needed to work on her spatial awareness…
His comm crackles to life. “Hunter, I am going to be lowering Omega through the branches, and on the count of three, I will release her. Are you ready to catch her?”
Instead of speaking through his comm, Hunter calls up, “I’m ready!”
“I should note,” Tech adds, as an obvious afterthought, “there is a high likelihood that you and Omega will be stung. I was not able to get many off of her without angering the hive.”
Hunter grits his teeth. He would rather none of them got stung, especially Omega; however, a sting or two is better than the alternative. “Got it,” he calls up.
There is rustling, and then Omega’s boots appear, immediately followed by her legs, torso and head. She is dangling by her arms, both hands clinging tightly to Tech’s forearm. Hunter can see the multicolored wasps crawling against the muted fabric of her clothes. There must be about a dozen of the things. He hopes most of them fly away the moment she drops.
As if they’d be so lucky.
Hunter shifts his stance, readying himself.
Omega’s eyes meet his for a moment, and he sees the tears glistening on her eyelashes.
“We got this, Omega,” he says encouragingly, hoping his expression doesn’t appear as frantic as the blood pounding in his ears.
She nods and looks up again at Tech, who is still invisible to Hunter. “I’m ready.”
Tech says over comms, “One…two…three!”
Omega drops then. It is only a split second between watching her fall and catching her, but it stretches for hours, especially when Omega lets out a squeak of terror at the brief free fall. Hunter catches Omega under her arms and places her on the ground. Using his gloved hands, he swats away the wasps that cling to her. Most of them fly away, but a couple decide to fight back against the assault.
Hunter feels a couple of stings immediately on his exposed wrists, and one just under his right ear. He is more focused on Omega, who seems to have been stung on the back of her neck and hands.
Tech drops down from the tree a moment later. “I suggest we run,” he says as the sound of enraged wasps buzz louder.
Hunter scoops Omega up and runs.
<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>
Tech hates being fussed over but Echo is relentless. So he tries to hold as still as possible as Echo analyzes each sting to be sure they are healing properly, and dabbing bacta ointment over the wounds.
“Are you about finished?” he asks with a hiss after Echo accidentally prods a wound a little too hard.
“You are making this harder than it needs to be,” Echo says without a hint of remorse as he pokes at the next sting.
Tech rolls his eyes, but allows Echo to finish his checks without further complaint. At long last, Echo leaves Tech alone to do as he pleases, which is to sit in his rack with his data pad and try not to irritate his minor injuries.
He isn’t left alone for long.
“Tech?”
Tech looks up to see Omega standing at the foot of his bunk.
“Are you doing alright, Omega?” he asks her, noticing the swollen welts on her hands and neck from her own stings. They don’t look red or irritated, which is excellent.
Omega nods, wincing slightly at the movement. “I’m okay. I just wanted to thank you…for helping me…and I’m sorry you got stung more than any of us.”
Tech smiles. “No thanks are necessary. I was more than happy to assist.”
Omega smiles back, but it doesn’t reach her usually bright eyes.
“Also, I meant to tell you,” Tech continues offhandedly, “that had the wasps not been involved, I am quite confident you would have won the training exercise.”
This catches Omega’s attention. She stands a little straighter. “Really?”
“Absolutely,” Tech says. “I was hoping you might share with me your strategy. It could prove to be a valuable resource in the future.”
Omega looks absolutely delighted. “Sure! Are you going to write a report about it?”
“I’ve already started.”
At that, the little girl in their care practically radiates light as she rushes to his side to give him all the details.
END
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hale-13 · 3 years
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Conditioned
By Hale13
For the Summer of Whump Day 16 - Touch Starved
“Can I take a shower?” Peter blurted out, shifting uncomfortably. He felt gross from the dried sweat and the bloody residue that was left on his scalp and around his hair line felt the intense need to get cleaned - broken arm be damned.
Words: 2084, Chapters: 1/1 (Complete), Language: English
Fandoms: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Rating: Gen
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Helen Cho
TW: Literally None - Just Fluff
Read on AO3 or below the line break.
“Well Peter, I see no reason why you should have to stay here any longer as long as you promise to actually rest and allow yourself to heal,” Helen said firmly but with a smile toward him and Peter nearly sagged with obvious relief.
“Oh thank god,” he said he’d, already struggling in his attempts to climb out of the MedBay bed he had been sentenced to since the day before with some help from Tony. He flinched a little as he tweaked his sore arms, moving the wrong way, but trying to keep his muscles as relaxed as possible to prevent any further damage. His recovery is going to be annoying enough as it is without making it worse.
In his most recent fight against the Shocker the night before, he had caught a direct hit on his right arm which had successfully and cleaning broken his radius and ulna in two. In his haste to get away and then catch himself on a poorly shot strand of webbing he had dislocated his left shoulder. The pain had been so stunning he had barely been able to finish webbing up Shocker and get away before the police showed up.
It probably didn’t do much to help the injuries when he had swung back to the Tower but he had been numb and delirious by that point so he probably wasn’t really thinking straight. He does remember Tony not being super impressed with him when he nearly passed out as soon as he landed.
“I’m serious about resting,” Dr. Cho warned him as she helped him settle his, still sore and recently reduced, arm into a sling. “You need to take it easy for at least another few days or you’ll risk re-injury and possibly surgery.”
“Oh that shouldn’t be a problem,” Tony said breezily. “I have no problem cuffing him to a bed if I have to.”
“Mr. Stark,” Peter whined, trying to stand and balance without using either of his arms – it was much harder than he thought it would be – and already trying to edge toward the door. Tony just quirked up an eyebrow at him.
“Your aunt, definitely against her better judgement and with an amazing amount of misplaced trust, is letting you stay here with me so you don’t get into any more trouble during your convalescence so if you could just work with me for a couple of days here that would be much appreciated,” he told Peter very pointedly with a final wave at Helen as he herded Peter toward the elevator at the end of the hall.
Peter just rolled his eyes at his mentors dramatics but allowed himself to be directed – to tell the absolute truth, his arms still hurt pretty badly and he wasn’t really looking forward to his oral painkillers (that made him sleepy and emotional) and his anti-inflammatories (that made him into a right bastard if he was being honest) and trying to convince Tony that he didn’t need either. He wasn’t super confident about his success rate with that. “Can I take a shower?” He blurted out, shifting uncomfortably. He felt gross from the dried sweat and the bloody residue that was left on his scalp and around his hair line.
“You know that you can’t get your cast wet,” Tony reminded him holding up a hand when Peter opened his mouth to interrupt. “I mean, I suppose I can wrap it in a bag or something if you really want to shower that bad.”
“Yes please,” Peter eagerly agreed. Ever since the Bite all of his senses had been more sensitive but none more so than his sense of smell and he wasn’t a particularly big fan of the fact that he could currently smell himself. It made his skin crawl and was completely disgusting.
“Alright then,” Tony nodded. “Shower first and then a movie marathon slash prescribed nap directly after. Do we have a deal then Mr. Parker?”
“Only if we can get pizza for dinner later,” Peter bartered as the elevator opened up on Tony’s floor of the compound. “With pineapple this time,” he continued with a wrinkled nose, “the olives you got last time were disgusting!”
“You have astonishingly terrible taste but yes fine. Pizza later.” Tony nodded, herding both of them into the kitchen with a single-minded determination. The Wal-Mart and cling wrap cast protection apparatus Mr. Stark rigged together left a fair amount to be desired in the looks department but was completely functional when it came to water-proofing which was good enough for Peter.
It took some skill to slip away from his mentor but Peter was soon slipping into his room, struggling to get out of the sling on his own and finally succeeding. It made him wince from the extra pain it caused but it didn’t overshadow the relief of doing it on his own. He knew his limits from previous dislocations and knew that it was crucial to not overdue it while the joint was healing or he risked the chance of re-injury and, as Dr. Cho had reminded him earlier, surgery.
With a grimace, Peter rested that arm across his stomach and used his bagged up right arm to pull his shirt over his head. He was barely able to manage it when it pulled at his sore muscles and broken bones. Maybe he should use a button down or zippered hoodie instead.
Thanks to FRIDAY (bless her seriously), the water of his shower was already running and warmed up to his preferred setting of skin melting and he was quick to turn his back into the spray and luxuriate under it for an extended time. The high pressured water felt amazing on his back and shoulders, loosening up the knots and clenched muscles and providing relief.
“You doing okay in there kid? You drown yet?” Tony asked, knocking on the door and indiscernible amount of time later and knocking Peter out of his stupor.
“I’m good!” Peter called back, hurriedly reaching out for his body wash and cloth painfully and cleaning himself up to the best of his – limited – ability. By the time he was ready to wash his hair and hairline he felt exhausted and achy despite the excellent water pressure and all the good work it and the heat had done to relieve the pain in his shoulder and back. “Fuck,” he cursed, trying to lift his arm above chest level and spectacularly failing, finding himself unable to without making his muscles seize.
Peter was pretty bendy due to his powers so he attempted a couple different contortions to reach his head before just flat out giving up, turning off the water and taking his towel off the heated towel rack installed in the bathroom (rich people – seriously). It took longer than Peter cared to admit, but he was able to dry and dress himself in sweats and a zippered hoodie. He was even able to shuck the bag off his cast with little struggle so he was feeling pretty decent when he ventured into the living room with his hair sopping wet and dripping onto his shoulders since he wasn’t able to adequately dry it. Whatever. It would dry on its own eventually.
“And what’s all this supposed to be?” Tony asked, glancing up from his phone and wrinkling his nose but not moving from where he was leaned against the counter in the kitchen. “Why are you dripping all over my floor?”
Peter fought off a blush and tried to hunch his shoulders, stopping when it hurt. “I couldn’t reach up to get my hair,” he grumbled, failing to completely push down his blush.
“I guess that explains all the blood still caked in there,” Tony hummed, leaning over to move the dampened curls around to look at the blood still matting some of his hair together and crusting up around his scalp. “Well that’s pretty easily remedied. Welcome to the salon Underoos,” Tony said, pulling over one of the barstools and setting it in front of the kitchen sink, gesturing for Peter to sit.
“Uh… what?” Peter questioned, brows furrowing in confusion.
“I’ll wash your hair for you,” Tony clarified, looking pointedly between Peter and the stool again. “Just sit down while I go and grab some things!” And, with that, he took off in the direction of the bedrooms and associated en suites.
Peter, still pretty confused but (mostly) trusting his mentor, sat down unsteadily on the stool just as Tony came back around the corner with an armful of towels, shampoo and conditioner bottles along with a wide-toothed comb and an expensive looking hair dryer. He triumphantly arranged everything on the counter next to the deep sink and wrapped one of the towels around Peter’s neck. “Lean back buddy,” Tony said, using a finger to push on the center of Peter’s forehead until he gave in and let himself be pushed back to lean back with his head in the sink.
Doing his best to ignore the weirdness of it all (weirdness was pretty common around Tony Stark after all), Peter closed his eyes and crossed his arms across his stomach as the water turned on. He tensed up a little when he felt fingers start dragging through his hair but was quick to relax and release the tension in his body under the careful massage of his mentor’s hands through his hair and the warm water cascading across his scalp. He let out a little hum of contentment.
Tony let out a soft chuckle, squirting a healthy dollop of the shampoo into his hands and lathering it up before applying it to Peter’s hair, working through the snarls and tangles with care and scrubbing the leftover blood out of the curls. Peter went nearly boneless under his ministrations and Tony would definitely be lying if he said he didn’t milk the washing and conditioning portion at least a little bit. He knew that Peter had to be feeling pretty miserable and it settled something buried deep inside him to provide just a little extra comfort.
All too soon, though, he had rinsed out the last of the conditioner leaving Peter’s hair clean and dripping as he turned off the water. Peter made no move to get up or to open his eyes, breathing deeply and seemingly on the very verge of sleep, so Tony grabbed one of the towels and started to wring the extra water out of the kid’s hair, running the towel through it cautiously. “Just need you to sit up for a second here kiddo okay? Then you can nap, scout’s honor.”
Peter grunted and grumbled but did slit his eyes open and let Tony help him sit up, swaying back and forth and little on the stool and Tony ran the towel through his hair a couple more times to really get rid of the water as much as possible. He dropped the towel on the counter in exchange for the comb and the hair dryer. He ran the comb through the mess a few times before starting the hair dryer up. Peter practically melted as the warmed air fluffed up his curls. It didn’t take long to dry at all and, by the time he was done, Peter was listing forward nearly into Tony’s chest.
“Couch or bed buddy?” Tony asked with a fond smile, running his hands through Peter’s warmed and clean hair.
“Couch,” Peter muttered, leaning into his petting and making Tony’s chest warm up. This kid… god. He ended up supporting most of Peter’s weight but was able to quickly get him lying face down on the supple cushions with his head pillowed on one of the throw pillows resting on Tony’s lap, the ratty fleece blanket Tony kept draped over they back of the couch draped over him and a heating pad resting across his healing shoulder.
“Let’s start a Star Wars marathon FRI. Volume at thirty percent,” FRIDAY was quiet as she dimmed the lights and started the movie, the familiar logo and music making Peter relax even further into the couch, completely gone. As the opening theme ended and the camera panned to the shots of Leia’s ship, he felt Mr. Stark’s hand rest on his back, digging into the knotted muscles of his back.
It maybe wasn’t ideal to mess up his arms so much but, Peter thought, he couldn’t think of a better way to spend his recovery.
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emachinescat · 3 years
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My Merlin One-Shots
*Crossovers, tags, character studies, and crack not included in this list. All links go to AO3 stories.
1. The Day that Camelot Forgot | Rating: T | Words: 6,444
A vengeful Morgana casts a powerful curse on Camelot on the day Merlin is named Court Sorcerer, making everyone in the citadel forget that Merlin – and his impact on their lives – exists. She can only maintain the spell for one day, but twenty-four hours is more than enough time for the warlock to get himself into some serious trouble. Written for Febuwhump on Tumblr. Day 24: memory loss
2. The Masks that Most Suit Us | Rating: T | Words: 6,152
After Uther's death and a mishap on the training field, Merlin chooses to suffer in silence in an effort to allow Arthur to grieve unburdened. But everyone has their breaking point – even the newly crowned king of Camelot. Written for Febuwhump on Tumblr. Day 13: hiding injury
3. Chilly Confrontations | Rating: G | Words: 5,905
Sequel to Frozen Revelations. After a near-death experience in a frozen river, Merlin's secret, unbeknownst to him, is revealed to the king, queen, and a small band of knights. Arthur finds himself facing off against himself and one of his own knights as he struggles to come to terms with Merlin's magic - and accidentally makes things much worse for the warlock in the process.
4. Pain Has an Element of Blank | Rating: T | Words: 5,019
Sequel to “I Should Not Dare to Leave My Friend.” Merlin is captured by slave traders who don’t need a magical artifact to contain his powers. After all, even the most powerful sorcerer in the world can’t run away if his legs are broken. Even contained, though, Merlin’s a force to be reckoned with – and he is determined to make it back home. Back to Arthur. TW: broken bones, slavery. Written for Febuwhump on Tumblr. Day 16: broken bones. Sequel: I Shall Have Lived a Little While
5. He Should Wear Armor | Rating: G | Words: 4,904
AU tag to 'The Crystal Cave'. While running from bandits, Merlin is fatally wounded by an arrow. An old man appears with a solution, but will Arthur turn to magic to heal his dying friend? How far will he go to save Merlin? "Merlin was dying..." 3x05
6. Frozen Revelations | Rating: G | Words: 4,783
When a stir-crazy Arthur decides to go on a hunt right after the biggest blizzard Camelot's seen in years, he doesn't realize that his flippant decision could hurt of one of the people he cares most about - in more ways than one. Requested by secret-identity-revealed. Reveal fic, whump. Sequel: Chilly Confrontations
7. The Neglected Neckerchief | Rating: T | Words: 4,701
A group of bandits torture Merlin in front of Arthur for their own entertainment, using Merlin's beloved neckerchief against him in the cruelest of manners. Now, Arthur must struggle to come to terms with a traumatized Merlin, whose neckerchief has been replaced by a ring of bruises. TW: strangulation, panic attacks. Written for Febuwhump on Tumblr. Day 21: torture
8. Knock | Rating: T | Words: 4,621
It is common knowledge in Camelot that one should never, under any circumstances, enter Sir Owen's chambers without knocking. Unfortunately, someone forgot to tell Prince Arthur's new servant. TW: PTSD. Febuwhump Day 10 - "I'm sorry, I didn't know"
9. Prince Dollop-Head and the Bear-Faced Monster | Rating: G | Words: 3,986
Merlin tells a bedtime story to a little princess, and Arthur is not amused. Pure fluff, with tons of bromance and fluffiness!
10. Ransoming... Myself? | Rating: G | Words: 3,786
Merlin needs Arthur to know about Morgana's betrayal, but is afraid Arthur won't believe him, so he cooks up a plan. How far will go to make Arthur see? Kidnapping himself seems like a good start...
11. I Shall Have Lived a Little While | Rating: T | Words: 3,661
Sequel to "I Should Not Dare to Leave My Friend" and "Pain Has an Element of Blank." The knights bring a broken Merlin back to Camelot, and he and Arthur are finally reunited. Written for Febuwhump on Tumblr. Day 26 - recovery
12. Between | Rating: T | Words: 3,656
When Uther finds out about Merlin’s magic, Arthur has already known for some time – and Arthur has no intention of letting his father kill his servant. Written for Febuwhump on Tumblr. Day 17: identity reveal
13. Not an Idiot | Rating: G | Words: 2,851
When Arthur jokingly requests Merlin's help with something important, Merlin takes it as a serious opportunity to prove that he's not an idiot. Unfortunately, Arthur's foot is in his mouth (again), and through his pratishness, Arthur learns something new about Merlin that helps him view his "idiotic" manservant in a whole new light.
14. And That Would Be Enough | Rating: G | Words: 2,752
In a moment of grief, Arthur says something to his newly appointed Court Sorcerer that he instantly regrets. Written for Febuwhump on Tumblr. Day 27 - “I wish I had never given you a chance”
15. Not Alone | Rating: G | Words: 2,749
Shortly after Merlin's father dies, an understanding Gwen comforts him.
16. The Great Rabbit Rescue | Rating: G | Words: 2,638
Spin-off of "In the Back of Our Minds." A creature in need, a selfless young warlock, and a big secret to protect - and Will is there to witness it all.
17. I Should Not Dare to Leave My Friend | Rating: G | Words: 2,174
An injured Arthur is desperate to go after Merlin, who has been captured by bandits. It doesn't matter that the knights are already out searching for the servant. He trusts them, but this is Merlin that's missing. Too bad Percival's his bodyguard and Arthur's as weak as a newborn foal. Written for Febuwhump on Tumblr. Day 2: "I can't take this anymore" Sequels: I Shall Have Lived a Little While, Pain Has an Element of Blank
18. Servants Are People, Too | Rating: G | Words: 1,982
Morgana gives Arthur a piece of her mind about how he treats Merlin.
19. It's a Zoo Out There | Rating: G | Words: 1,828
Merlin gains the ability to talk to animals for a day.
20. The Last Night of the Kings | Rating: T | Words: 1,653
"We are the folk and we have the right to stand up and to fight for an independent life." When does trying to free your kingdom from tyranny go too far? How many innocents must be killed, how many prophecies undermined? Based on the song by Van Canto.
21. First Impressions | Rating: G | Words: 1,562
Merlin's arrival in Camelot... with a slight twist. AU
22. The Royal and the Restless | Rating: G | Words: 1,554
Arthur can't get to sleep, Merlin helps him out in an unexpected way.
23. Different | Rating: G | Words: 1,192
Little Merlin's mother talks to him, trying to explain to her young son that he is different and special.
24. Nothing | Rating: G | Words: 1,155
"The scariest thing about Arthur's reaction to Merlin's magic was that he didn't react at all."
25. What's In a Name? | Rating: G | Words: 1,050
Arthur tires of Merlin always calling him a prat, so Merlin takes it upon himself to remind Arthur of all the other names that he's called the prince over the years. Arthur is not impressed.
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daily-jaspvid · 3 years
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Your Ex-Lover Is Dead - Jaspvid fluff and whump
Part three is finished! So i’m posting it here.
Content Warnings: mentions of previous s-lf h-rm, mentions of previous su-cide attempts, mentions of child endangerment/neglect (canon-typical), mentions of mental institutions, mentions of food.
Has a happy, hopeful ending!!
I awake slowly the next morning and nuzzle deeper into the pillow. It takes me a moment to recognize there is someone holding me in place, and another moment to recall where I was. I roll over to my companion to idly watch him sleep. He was peaceful, completely relaxed. I notice all the marks I left on him and for a moment felt apologetic.
After only a few minutes of totally not weird watching, I slide my way out of his hold. At some point after I had fallen asleep he must have thrown our clothing in the wash because I noticed my clothes folded neatly on the dresser. It was a sweet gesture, that was for sure. Instead, I locate a towel in the hallway closet and take a shower.
Not even five minutes into the endeavor I hear the door creek open and David shuffles in. “Mind if I join you?” He asks in a groggy voice.
“Yeah, sure,” I agree, moving aside as he slides in. He wraps his arms around my waist so that he can bury his face in my shoulder from behind. For a few long moments, we just let the water wash over us. We had no words. I don't even think either of us had many thoughts at the time. With a gentle kiss, he pulled away.
“Did you sleep alright? Honestly, I wasn’t really expecting you to hang around this morning.” He admitted sheepishly. I turn around to kiss his cheek.
“Why wouldn't I? I told you I still wanted to catch up, and it's not like we did much talking last night. I got cheated out of a good conversation!” I retorted with a smirk. He laughed at that, gentle and bright.
“We can make breakfast and talk more, then. I’d really like for you to stay longer,” he turned to pick up the shampoo and placed a dollop in his hand before lathering up my hair. My eyes fluttered closed as I enjoyed the pampering. “You can stay as long as you’d like, really. I don’t mind at all.”
“Well, I don’t leave back home until Monday. I can stay until then.” I suggest, mind starting to drift back to the previous night when he gives me a little scratch behind the ear.
“Sounds like a plan to me!” He chirps, and we enjoy the rest of the wash with more conversation and a bit of fooling around.
Around 9 am we settled in the kitchen. He had a table with a few chairs and a small basket with various snacks and fruit in it. I grab an apple as he starts poking through the kitchen.
“Do you like waffles? I have a waffle maker I haven't had a chance to try out yet.” He suggested, pulling it out from the back of one of his cabinets.
“Hell yeah, I’ll take some waffles!” I agree as I join him. “What do you need help with? I haven’t made waffles since I was a kid!”
“What was your childhood like?” he asks as he begins to retrieve the ingredients. From my hesitation, I can see concern start to creep onto his face again.
“Oh, well, it was… fine. My parents are nice, and my older brother is pretty cool. Hes going to have a kid soon, so we’re looking forward to that.” I deflect as smoothly as I can. He seems to take the hint and steers the conversation away.
“That's always fun! I don’t have any siblings. I guess that's why I latched on to you when we were kids! You sort of felt like a brother to me,” He paused for a moment, red striking across his face. “Wait- ok, well, that sounds weird now considering- Oh, gosh…”
I blink at him and raise my brows. “Really now? You gonna rephrase that?” I chastize, nudging his arm with my elbow.
“You know what I mean, Jasper!” he scolds, handing me a bowl. “Here, mix this.”
I do as I’m told, still chuckling. He fusses about looking for other ingredients, finally settling with tossing in a handful of frozen blueberries into the mix.
“Can I ask you a personal question?” He asks in a delicate voice, not looking at me.
“Sure,” I allow, having a few feelings of what might come up. I set the mixed batter on the counter and we wait for the waffle maker to warm.
“How did… you get all those scars on your upper arms? And your body. Really just, all over. I mean, I have an idea but-” He exhaled. “And you mentioned the one on your neck.”
“Yeah, I’ve had my struggles growing up. As I said, they're mostly self-inflicted. The one on my neck I did when I was 14. Did a shit job and my brother found me right after I did it. It wasn't very serious since I chickened out mid-cut, but it didn’t stop me from trying other things when I got older. I’ve been in and out of mental hospitals due to attempts, and just my general psyche.” I spill. My expression grows dark and a little cold as I recall, fixating on one of the kitchen tiles as I ramble on. David listens, quiet, waiting for me to finish.
“I’m sorry. I wish I had been there to offer more support, or at least my friendship. I’m sorry I brought it up, we don’t have to talk about it if you don't want to.” He says finally, squeezing my hand. My concentration breaks and I look at him, letting the darkness fall away from me some.
“No, it’s fine. I’m used to talking about it by now. It’s been a long process, but it's gotten easier as I’ve gotten older,” I nudge him aside to begin pouring the batter. “I’ve learned a lot of tools to keep myself grounded.”
“Did it start after… All that happened?” He asked, watching me work.
“Yeah. Having two near-death experiences in one summer does a thing to two to a child’s mind. By all accounts, I should be dead, or at least a lot worse off. Even though I survived I… I never felt like I did. I feel like a big part of me did literally die then and like… I’m a ghost. Like I’m not real and that I shouldn’t be here. Like I need to free my spirit from this world and pass on to the next, wherever that is,” I scoff at myself. Way to sound like a fucking basketcase in front of my childhood crush. “Sorry if this like, changes things. I don’t know, I don’t really talk about this to normal people.”
“Oh, no! It’s fine, really!” He insists, squeezing my hand harder. “I’m glad you’re sharing this with me. It's important. Also, I mean, we did share those experiences together. I didn’t think much of it until I was a lot older how lucky I was that summer, and it always had me worried about you! Wondering how you were. You never came back. Mr. Campbell just swept it under the rug like he does with everything.”
My expression twists in anger and disgust at the mention of Campbell and I take the opportunity to handle the waffle-making again. “Campbell as an ass, and if I never meet him again that’d be great.” I grumble.
Davey scans again as if looking for the right words. “During the summer I actually work there. If you’d like, you can come with me next summer. Maybe being back there will… Help put your soul to rest. It's also an excuse to spend more time together!”
“Only if Campbell isn’t there, I will.” From his expression dodging away, I had my answer.
“He comes by every now and again. Not often, but there's no way of knowing when he will show up.” He explained, fussing with the cuff of his sleeve.
“Well, I’ll… I’ll think about it, ok?” I finally reason. He smiles in a slightly strained way, still visibly worried.
“Please do. Now come on, let's eat while it's still hot!” He finishes plating our breakfast and whisks it away to the table. I take a seat, watching him buzz around setting the table, and grabbing our drinks. Even so soon after waking up, he was full of energy. Even after the heavy conversation, it didn’t ruin his mood. He notices me watching and offers a big, bright grin. I feel like I’m staring at the sun.
We enjoy breakfast. The conversation stays light, mainly about school or our friends. We exchange funny or weird stories from our childhoods. Before long the weekend slinks by and I make my departure home. we keep in touch, but he makes another suggestion; we should become pen-pals. Thinking the idea is cute and nostalgic, I agree and brush off my stationary set once I arrive at my family home.
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luthienebonyx · 5 years
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So in late July, I decided to do Writer’s Month, which meant writing something in response to each daily prompt for the whole of August. “31 ficlets! I can do that!” I thought. “I’ll have a fix-it AU and a modern AU, and I should be able to write some little episodes for one or the other every day for a month!”
I tend to be the sort of writer who takes her time and thinks a lot, and worries about carefully polishing and all that sort of shit, but this time I was determined to just slam something out every day and see what happened.
All went well for the first two days. I wrote two ficlets set in the same fluffy little fix-it universe (honestly, the only surprising thing was that it was fluffy. I REALLY don’t do fluff. Except, apparently, that this pairing makes me write absolutely anything and everything, including fluff and character death and babyfic). Then came the third day, and the fateful prompt: coffee shop AU. This was the beginning of the modern AU, and also the beginning of the end of my control over this whole project.
The first modern AU ficlet, the actual coffee AU, was... fine. 
I’ve read an awful lot of American coffee AUs over the years, and quite a few British ones, but I’m pretty sure I’ve never read one set in Australia. I decided to be the first. But instead of setting the story somewhere sensible like, say, one of the several places where I’ve lived, I set it on the coast of northern New South Wales, near Byron Bay. I can’t even remember precisely why now. But anyway, that’s what I did.  I have travelled up and down the Pacific Highway and through Byron Bay many times when I was younger, but the last time I was there was about 15 years ago. (My partner helpfully suggested that I should listen to him because he knew the place better than I did, and then proceeded to tell me about the trip he’d taken up there in 1976. *eyeroll*)
So, anyway, my coffee AU is about British tourist Brienne, who gets left by the side of the highway in the middle of nowhere, after an argument with her arsehole travelling companion, Hyle, and so has to walk, dragging (what she thinks is) her luggage, until she makes it back to the last little town she remembers driving past. There, she finds a coffee shop, and a man who may or may not be a barista, and who is so good-looking that he may or may not be some sort of Hemsworth.
And THEN other prompts followed:
road trip - Jaime gives Brienne a lift to Byron Bay
sound - they’re still on the way to Byron Bay
kids - a conversation about (other people’s) kids while STILL on the way to Byron Bay, but they do actually finally get there in this one!
sports - featuring various sports for two. (This one’s e-rated, because they seemed to have been noticing each other quite a bit as well as talking and drinking coffee in that almost endless car trip.)
Then I had a day off and did some canon-universe-ish drabbles for the prompt ‘colours’.
But the coffee universe continued the next day with:
time travel - in which Brienne calls her friend Margaery in London, where it’s eleven hours ago, so... time travel!
Dark AU - it’s an AU and it’s the middle of the night, as Brienne sleeps and Jaime ponders his feelings. So... dark AU! It counts!
Then I had a bit of a health crash for a few days and got off schedule, before returning with:
feelings - in which Jaime feels things, and decides on a course of action.
whump - which turned out to be mostly about breakfast and romance, with a good dollop of comedy at Kafe Khaleesi, before... whump, (minor) car accident and the real world comes crashing in.
Then RL intruded for a few days, by which time I’d totally given up on the idea of writing a ficlet for every single prompt, partly because these stories were getting longer and more emotionally complicated, and there was just no way I could keep writing upwards of 4000 words every day. But I came back with one that had a lot of emotions and a lot of talking in it with:
dreams - Sometimes dreams are not what they seem.
Fairy tale - might have been tricky prompt to pull off in this setting, except that @slipsthrufingers reminded me of the existence of the Macadamia Castle just outside Byron Bay, so there were knights, macadamias and minigolf.
And now we’ve reached the current story, which has been a WIP since the 28th of August. The prompt for it is ‘weird’, and never was a prompt more appropriate. It has been a weird experience writing this story. I thought Jaime and Brienne were just going to go shopping in the middle of the night, but I’ve completed four chapters, it’s currently 15,000 words long, and we still haven’t made it to the shopping. I’m 3,000 words into what I sincerely hope will be the final chapter, so once we get past the sex scene (that they demanded) I’m hopeful that there will still be shopping. I think it’s likely to weigh in at about the 20,000 word mark when it’s done.
And yes, August is receding into the distance behind us, and I’m still nowhere near finished with this Aussie coffee ‘verse. Once I’m done with ‘weird’, there are still another seven prompts that I want to cover. I’m hoping VERY much that these will all be less than 6,000 words each, like every story in the series up until the one I’m still trying to finish. Anyway, the prompts still to come, in order, are:
summer, first time, hope, pining, death, flowers and celebration.
I’ve written 58,000 words for writer’s month all up so far, and 54,000 of that is the Aussie coffee ‘verse, so it really is pretty much a novel at this point. Except, um, that all the events have taken place over the space of two days. So, you know, don’t take it incredibly seriously.
And now I’d better get back to writing, if I’m ever going to get them to the point of going shopping.
But yeah, if you have been seeing me mentioning my coffee universe, and were wondering about it, wonder no more!
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