#jace vela journey

[seth-whumps]

characters losing their humanity. characters who are mind controlled or manipulated to being the villain when they could have been the hero. characters who look into the eyes of the enemy and see themselves. characters who question their morals and whether they are doing the right thing. characters who forget what right is. characters who do their job. who do it well. who forget to question the orders. characters who become puppets born of good intentions.

[whumpbug]

trading trading trading I am so sorry if your inbox is full of prompts feel free to ignore any of mine no charge BUT

now that I've posted my guys' thoughts on your boys. what do Archie and Simon think of Morrigan and JJ?? curious.....

- @whump-kia :P

my inbox is not full of prompts don’t worry!! i have like 1 one other plus yours that i’m nearly done with (and i also have a really long fic im gonna incorporate yours into that might post today…)

but i love the questions so if you have more then feel free to ask them!!!

okay i’ve sort of been thinking about this since u even made your sillies but it was actually a bit hard to put it into words!!!  nonetheless, HERE IT IS!!

about morrigan:

simon is. wary. at first, he doesn’t trust morrigan farther than he can throw them. i feel like simon is all too aware of how easily archie trusts people and he knows that morri is now aware of that too and could exploit it. it makes him deeply uncomfortable. i don’t think simon lets his guard down for a long time, and comes across as rude (much to archie’s dismay) but once he’s a little more comfortable with morri, they are a LETHAL COMBO. the sass. the sarcasm. the exasperation. the protectiveness. they’re more alike in that way than either of them like to admit. still, i think simon will always be a bit cautious of them, just on principle.

archie, sweet archie. he sees a dry humor dark haired friend and is immediately endeared. he trusts morri right away, for better or for worse, and is utterly fascinated by them. he finds the whole android thing sooooo cool and he definitely bombards them with a volley of questions all about it. archie is also deeply, truly convinced that simon and morri should be friends. he INSISTS on it. his rationale is “you’re both so similar you have to get along!!!” he is very sad when he sees they are. unwilling. (at first)

about jj:

simon takes to jj a little better than he does to morri. he admires his work ethic and overall good-natured demeanor, and he get the sense that he and archie are similar in some way, but he can’t quite place it. regardless, i think simon and jj have long, profound conversations about the world while archie torments morri with the 50th question about their digestive system, and simon kind of appreciates it. he winds up really liking jj’s company, i think the two would Bros. 

archie is utterly heartbroken when he first meets jj because he doesn’t understand why he doesn’t like him. archie is a people person. his whole thing is human connection, he lives off of it, and when someone shows any kind of animosity towards him, even if it isn’t personal, hes really really hurt. he picks up a vibe off jj and he just delfates completely. this lasts for a while until it clicks for archie and.. well, yeah, he understands. archie isn’t totally as naive as people think he is, and he can tell jj has gone through some shit. like i said, his thing is people. once he realizes that, their interactions become easier and he sort of meets jj where hes at. yes, their mario kart battles will go CRAZY.

[seth-whumps]

Whumperless Whump Event day 9

Coughing up blood - whumpee JJ - 531 words

CW: Blood, panic, graphic description of being awake while dethawing from cryo (ouch)

also. deepest apologies. morri is not here right now BUT there is a caretaker!! you'll recognize them :)

--

It’s so cold.

There’s almost nothing to cling to besides it. Sharp, like ice crystals in his veins, almost white hot with the pain. He can’t move. Can’t breathe anything but quick huffs. If he could open his eyes, he’s sure the air would fog in front of him. But it’s like he’s frozen stiff.

Why is he awake?

Why is he conscious of this? He’s not used to anything but the gentle warmth that flows through him. The softness of the light he can cast. He was the stars, the sun. He was everything bright and warm he could touch with his hands, and now he’s just…

Cold.

It’s hours and hours before it starts to lessen. Trapped in his body, unable to move, unable to massage away the ice in his body, coating him. Each little huff of air is like lava against his top lip. He’s surprised he’s even breathing.

Sound filters in the quickest. It’s static, bursts of sound like yawning. His jaw aches.

“–vitals?”

“–breathing slower, I think he’s–”

“Journey, report.”

His eyes snap open. The world around him is too bright.

Journey leans forward and starts to cough. Harshly. There’s something in his lungs, need to get it out, can’t breathe through the ice in his throat, can’t–

“–c’mon, JJ, hey. Hey! There you are. Breathe. It’s alright. It’s okay.”

The voice is new. He recognized the others, just vaguely, barely on the edge of his memories frozen away with his skin and bones, but this one is fresh, bright and soft and–

Warm.

“That’s it. Good. Can you look at me, quickly?”

He tries to. Eyes flutter open again. There’s a smell, now, like copper in the air. The face in front of him is fair skinned and green eyed, short cropped black hair in a pixie cut and a splattering of freckles across their face. They smile, brightly.

“Hi. You were out of it for a long time.” They hold up a cloth, rubbing it against his mouth. He can’t fight it. He can still barely move. “Breathe. I’m Cavalry, I’m here to help.”

“Cav–” he tries, and fails. His lungs rebell, his breathing hitches, and he’s coughing again and it hurts, it hurts so much, it’s like taking a knife to his insides and prying up everything he has left, he can’t breathe–

“Side effect,” they whisper calmly. “It’ll pass. It’ll pass. There’s a medic a little ways away, but they thought it would help if you saw someone new right away. Hey. Hey, look at me–”

JJ grimaces, and glances up. His mouth tastes like blood. 

“Good. We’re thawing you out. It’ll be alright. I’m sorry, I know it hurts.”

He can’t help the huff of a laugh, even if it starts him coughing again. But Cavalry lays a hand on his shoulder and keeps him steady.

Finally, it stops enough for him to take a slightly more steady breath. His hands are on his knees. Everything is cold. He’s shivering. There is blood dripping from his mouth, splattering against his hands.

Cavalry smiles, too bright for the room. He can’t look away from them. 

“Welcome back, Journey. It’s been awhile.”

--

heyyyyyyy i know that's not exactly the prompt fill but. here are the first few moments after jj's awakening. i once again regret nothing.

[seth-whumps]

Whumperless Whump Event Day 3

Vertigo / Concussion - whumpee JJ - 676 words

tw: breaking and entering lmao

--

Post-concussion days are the worst.

It's all JJ can think about, now, lounging in his studio apartment, awaiting information on the next mission. His head hurts, yeah, but that's not even the problem.

He can't… feel things.

The sheets are hot to the touch, the air is slightly breezy from the window AC, he can smell his own sweat, he can taste leftover blood in his mouth (stars above, he needs to brush his teeth), so yes, he can feel. His senses, the main five, are functioning just fine.

But sometimes, he just can't tell where his body is. It's like being pulled into an outside perspective where he can't feel his limbs. It's all vertigo, all dizziness and disorientation.

He's used to it, though. Concussions happened. This is not an unfamiliar sensation.

It's just… uncomfortable.

“On your left.”

JJ jolts, and it shocks him back into his body with the spike of pain hitting his brain. The window AC just spoke to him. He's hallucinating. That can't be normal.

“It's me, Journey.”

Oh.

Beyond the box air conditioner is a head of soft black hair and wide, calming blue eyes. Morrigan.

“What the fuck are you doing?” comes out of his mouth before he can even stop it. “How do you know where I live, what the hell–”

“I'm climbing into your house,” they say, matter-of-factly doing exactly that, “and I checked your files. Cavalry said you took a hit. I was sent to check on you.”

“Why you?” That's far too blunt, he realizes. “I mean–thanks. For breaking into my house. I think.”

“You're welcome,” they say, irritatingly neutral. “Let me see.”

“Uh.”

That's the issue. It's not that he thinks Morrigan is going to hurt him. But the trust they have is tenuous at its best and desperate at its worst. But then his brain winks out again, and suddenly he's floating, and he wants to scream.

“Fine.”

Morrigan's hands are cool as they guide him to a sitting position. They flash a light in his eyes, unruffled when he jolts away. “Concussion. Did you sleep?”

“Can't you just…” he wiggles his fingers vaguely. “Shine lights? X-ray me or something?”

“Because sometimes efficiency isn't as important.” There's a new note to their calm voice. It's thin. Wounded. Like shame. “It would make you uncomfortable. That isn't the goal.”

“What would?”

“If I checked you over the way I'm supposed to.”

Wait. Huh? “Are you… like, disobeying orders, or something?”

Morrigan's shoulders tense. Their hands go still, and they very slowly take a breath. “Possibly.”

“That's vague.” It doesn't make sense to him. Then again, nothing does. He can feel their hands on his shoulders, but his brain is fogged out like dusk at a beach. “…why?”

“I'm not sure,” they say, as if that's a normal way to answer that question, “but it makes me more comfortable when you are. I'm still checking you over. Thus I'm fulfilling the order. Ibuprofen?”

“God, yes.”

They grab him a snack and a drink, pass him the pill bottle. With his head basically reaching the ceiling, it takes a few tries to function. But Morrigan is patient. They don't fuss, or push, or take things away from him to do it better.

His eyes are struggling to stay open by this point. He wants to sleep off this vertigo.

“Don't sleep, please,” they remind him calmly, sitting on the windowsill they used to break in.

“Not gonna,” he mutters.

Morrigan watches them for a second, and then glances away. “I… will stay. Just to keep you awake.”

They are a stranger. An inhuman, metal trespasser. They broke into his house using the window like a lunatic.

But their posture is slumped. They're not staring.

Trying to make him comfortable.

“Not gonna kill me in my incapacitation, will you?” He mumbles.

There's a quick, short huff. “That doesn't seem very reasonable.”

JJ stares. “Was that a laugh?”

“No.”

“Oh my god, you think I'm funny.”

“You know what? Maybe I will kick you while you're down, actually.”

--

and thus we discover that morrigan can and will break into your houe if they deem it necessary. i know it's less whump and more plot BUT they're my guys i need to write them all the time

[seth-whumps]

okay i have a proposition.

i have this idea that i can't get out of my head but i have a feeling it might not be in character/plausible so feel free to change it or message me if it is But

is there any scenario where a glitch to morri's personality systems would like. make them act completely out of character but not necessarily in a distressed way?? like they either become super happy and affectionate or like sad and weepy or even just act vaguely drunk/silly? i know its kind of a weird ask and its not really whumpy but i just think it would be so silly to see that side of them and jj's reaction to it ( ๑˘ω˘ )

feel free to make it whumpy if you can too! i'd be very interested to see that, but either way i have another whumpy ask ill send in a bit!

bug. bug your MIND. okay this one is short but incredibly sweet. and it is not beta'd because I was so excited to write it and I love it a lot so thank you for the ask bug I dedicate this one to you!!!

--

"What on earth are you doing."

"Hugging you." That's all Morrigan says in response. Their arms are wrapped around JJ's shoulders from behind the couch, snug and warm, and their hair is infuriatingly tickling his left ear where their chin rests. "Do you want me to stop?"

JJ lets out a short breath. He is very, very confused. "...Uh, no, you don't have to stop, just. Since when did you get cuddly?"

"Am I being cuddly?" Their head tilts, nudging his ear. "I'm just hugging you."

"Yeah, I noticed that. Is there any particular reason?"

Morrigan stops to think. It's strange, hearing the soft hum of their breath behind him, as close as they are. Morri isn't touchy, and he doesn't mind respecting their space, so whatever the fuck this is, it's nothing short of seriously freaky.

"You seem... stressed." Morrigan releases him, and maneuvers to sit next to him. The couch dips, and they fold their hands. "I want to help."

"Stressed? I mean, maybe. I just got the new assignment, so I'm a little tense, but..."

Morrigan leans their head on his shoulder.

He stops in his tracks. "Morri?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you... okay?"

"I'm fine. Are you? Your shoulder is very tense."

JJ barely scoffs. "Yeah. You're laying on it. Forgive me if that's a bit surprising."

"It's supposed to make you relax," they say, frowning and sitting up. "Could I hold your hand instead?"

"Uh--?"

"Or maybe..."

Morrigan then lays fully down and rests their head in his lap, all while JJ holds both hands up in complete and utter bewilderment. What on earth is happening?

"Woah, Morri. Hey. Snap out of it. Who are you, and what have you done to my robot?"

"Not your robot," Morrigan corrects neutrally, "and I'm trying to help you. Physical contact is supposed to help stress levels. Your heart rate is increasing, though, am I doing it wrong?"

"Okay, Baymax." JJ gently pushes them upright, and holds them by the shoulders. "Do me a favor and run a system diagnostic."

"Copy."

Their eyes blink rapidly. The left one shutters into a solid yellow, the color oddly cold for its shade. Morrigan goes motionless for several seconds.

Eventually, they jolt. "Oh."

"Oh?"

One eye blinks as they readjust. "Small bug. I... am overreacting."

JJ tilts his head, confused. See, normally, an 'overreaction' ends in several hours of dissociation or trying to coax down his friend from committing murder. This doesn't seem like an overreaction. It's strange, but nothing close to what he's used to. "To what?"

"You."

"Excuse me?"

Morrigan takes a breath, flinching back. "Sorry. I'm sorting it. You're registering as a target."

JJ tries to relax. "That is a lot more threatening than the hug you gave me."

"No, I was trying to--" They frown, frustrated. "You're stressed. I'm reading it as a threat. I tried to calm you down. Make you less of a threat. Best option was to hug you."

"Oh." He nods, and breathes out, doing everything he can to make himself look harmless. "Makes sense. Are you still reading me as a threat?"

Their eyes glaze over, the way they do when they're looking at something only they can see. "Yes."

"Want to fix that?"

Morrigan's eyes focus immediately. "What?"

JJ opens his arms in an invite. He wiggles his eyebrows. "Sort out the bug with some cuddles, Morri, c'mon! I give great hugs."

"You are..." Their gaze is captured by something, for just a moment. They sigh, heavily, and lean in for the hug. "...an absolute moron," they mutter into his shirt.

"Hey. Is it helping?"

Morrigan settles against their chest, curled up adorably. Their eyelids flutter shut, no doubt working through whatever line of code snapped in their systems. It'll take a while to fix it all. "I suppose."

"Then I'm a genius."

"Shush."

"Sort it out, cuddle bug."

"Never call me that again."

(JJ wouldn't mention it to anyone. But Morrigan enters stasis there, in his arms. And even if the couch is less than comfortable, and he has a mission early in the morning on the other side of town, he doesn't move an inch.)

(Because Morrigan, despite everything, is very very warm. And JJ wouldn't let go for the world.)

--

this is tooth-rotting fluff and I Don't Care it was SO FUN TO WRITE so I hope this fulfills your ask!!! thank you bug!!!!

[whumpbug]

since seth keeps TORTURING these guys i had to step in. /lh /pos. i needed to see them Happy and Not bleeding and/or injured and being the Special Friends they are

(to be fair i just really wanted to draw them. GOD i love them. they are so precious to me. they are my everything. i hope i did them justice i sincerely apologize if anything is out of character but i needed them to SMILE. MY BABIES!)

✮⋆˙

@seth-whumps (also gonna tag your main just incase @sethlost)

hope you like it!!!!!! i love your sillies with my WHOLE heart.

(pose ref from @/mellon_soup)

✮⋆˙

[seth-whumps]

Whumperless Whump Event Day 5

Wheezing - whumpee Morrigan - 978 words

CW: panic attacks

--

There is something in their lungs.

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

However, they are panicking. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No. Not a virus. Just.”

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

Something grabs their hands.

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

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

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

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

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

Concerned for them. That’s… new.

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

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

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

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

“Why are you helping me?” 

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

“You hate me,” they say, simply. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What did you call me?” 

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

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

“Cool. Call me JJ, then?” 

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

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

--

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

[seth-whumps]

HI ITS ME AGAIN ｡(^▽^)ゞ

im here with another little prompt/request but its similar to one on the WWE so if u dont want to answer this one yet i totally get it!!!

basically: jj with a concussion during a mission. a concussion that leaves him utterly incapacitated (dizziness, nausea, light and sound sensitivity, disorientation, delirium, the works) and in need of an evac from morri

cue some caretaking and perhaps fluff if you're able to work it in

as always, take your time kia!!! i miss your sillies i love them SM!!!

okay so this ask has been in my askbox for a while because the prompt fill became so intriguing to me that I am using it for the event. HOWEVER. i don't want to leave you hanging bug SO

i'm giving you a sneak peak.

--

He turns bleary eyes upwards, to meet their haloed, foggy silhouette. "Hiya."

"Don't talk." Their face is... warm. Eyebrows raised, expression loose. They're putting effort into making the situation less scary, they're lightening the mood. That takes concentration. It's intentional.

That's how he knows it's not good. Because Morrigan is trying to keep him calm.

"'s bad, huh?" He says, trying to push himself up. Again, his hand slips. Something is coating his fingers. He can't get a grip, get up, get going--

--

and that's all u get until the event day occurs. you're the best bug!!!!

[seth-whumps]

Whumperless Whump Event day 8

Migraine - whumpee Morrigan - 495 words

--

There is a bruise at the base of Morrigan's neck.

It throbs up into the base of their skull and echoes in their head like an empty auditorium stage. Pounding, bouncing back and forth, amplifying the pain from the simple butt-end of a gun the day before.

It makes their lack of humanity all the worse. Not because they can't get headaches without physical damage–but because they can't take pills for it.

“You look miserable.”

Morrigan doesn't look up. Their head is too nicely cradled in the palms of their hands to bother moving. “What do you say, usually, to the obvious? ‘No shit, Sherlock’?”

“Sassy,” JJ says, closing the door behind him. It echoes, sending an uncomfortable jolt up their spine. “Want me to do something about it, or leave you alone?”

“Nothing you can do,” they say, as calm as they can.

It throbs again. Talking. Their voice resonates through the metal plating, making an unfamiliar vibration through their skull. It hurts.

They take a breath.

“...I can close the curtains?” JJ says, his voice now much quieter. It's laced with sympathy.

“Not gonna do much.” The strange buzzing gets worse, and they bite their tongue. It's awful, it really is. “But thanks for the offer.”

“Okay,” he says, in an if-you-say-so kind of tone.

The silence is barely a respite for the aching. It threads its way through their jaw, twinging against their temple, pushing up against their eyes and reverberating through their head like a symphony of pure, unfiltered agony.

Each passing second makes the clock tick.

Each tick is like fire through their brain.

It… hurts. It really, really fucking hurts.

They press the palm of their hand deeper into their cheekbone, biting back a hiss of pain. It's just a bruise. There's no fracture, they checked. It's just a–

It pulses, horribly, and their breath hitches, and they can't do this anymore.

“Jace?” They whisper, shakily.

The couch dips. JJ's hand rests on their shoulder. “Hey. I'm here. What do you need?”

“Hurts. Hurts."

“Oh, Morri.”

He's rubbing their back. The pain doesn't stop. They want to cry.

“Sound or light?”

“JJ–” they reach out, unconsciously.

He grabs their hand, and tightens his grip. “Right here. I'm right here. Breathe. It's okay. It'll pass.”

“It hurts, it–”

“I know, Morrigan, but you're strong enough to stop me in my tracks in a fight. You can do this. You just need to breathe.”

Breathe. In. Out. They force it, through the riot, the cacophony inside of their skull, and squeezes JJ's hand hard enough to leave a mark.

JJ never lets go. Not until Morrigan is relaxing, until the breaths have gone from tense and forced to shaky and quick. Not until their eyes are closing, systems begging for shutdown, for sleep.

“I'll be here when you come back,” JJ says softly.

Morrigan lays their head on his shoulder, the dull ache quieting as they fall into stasis.

--

this is the first one I wrote for them. i regret nothing. enjoy!!

[seth-whumps]

Whumperless Whump Event Day 4

Chronic pain - whumpee JJ - 1060 words

tw: chronic pain, discussions of nonconsensual cryofreeze

--

JJ can't feel his hands.

That's not the worst of it. His shoulders aren't moving well, clicking and aching as the muscles hold the loose joints in place. He's had one bowl of dry cereal before collapsing back on the couch to fall in and out of sleep, where the fatigue wills it. His feet are swollen and red and they ache like hell on earth. All of which are incapacitating.

But none of that changes when he can't feel his hands. That's what scares him. That's the worst part. His fingers are white and numbed, all the warmth pulled out of them to cradle close to his heart.

Five years in a cryopod does that to people, he thinks. It's a bitter reassurance. There's nothing wrong with this situation. It happens all the time. It was basically prescribed when they thawed him–“Oh, at completely random times you'll be knocked out by your body rejecting the torture we submitted you to. Welcome back to the real world! Enjoy your stay!”–and the only changes to fix it have to happen when the pain starts. So, in modern terms? He's fine.

It still hurts, though.

Thankfully, he turned in the previous reports that morning. It takes at least a day or two to process. The flare-up won't calm down for a week or so, but he'll take any time to sit down and do nothing unnecessary.

He doesn't always get this reprieve. On the days he does, though, he won't turn it down.

The phone haphazardly shoved on his nightstand starts to ring. 

Oh, hell. Did they already review the papers? His shoulder protests the movement, but he swipes and holds the work phone to his ear. “Reporting.”

“Journey, this is Cavalry. Morrigan is requesting you.”

“Tell them to fuck off,” he says, and nearly slams down the phone. God, the robot won't leave him alone, will they?

“They say it's a good thing?” Cavalry's voice is hesitant, soft. She knows immediately what JJ's day has been like, so she's retreated a bit from her usual bright tone. “Something about a gift for you.”

“...fine. Tell ‘em to leave it at my door.”

“Copy that. And, Journey?”

“What.”

“I canceled your mission briefing tomorrow and postponed the new case until Thursday. Consider yourself on vacay.”

He can't help the laugh. “You know just what to say, don't you, Cav?”

“Get some sleep, hero.” Her smile is clear and bright. He can picture the crook in her bottom teeth. What did the Cages do to deserve her? “We'll see you in a few.”

The phone line disconnects, and the telltale sound of the signal shredding fills his tiny studio.

Ugh. Visitors.

He turns on his side and goes to sleep.

–

Someone is knocking on the door and he's going to cry.

He can't get up to see anyone. He can't let anyone see him in the first place, he's Journey, he's the hero of the city, a legend of unsolved proportions. His name is whispered in alleyways like a prayer, his image is on posters and in comic books, he is what he read about as a kid in South Dakota. 

He can't ruin that image. But he also can't move. And he's crying. That's helpful.

“Jace?”

JJ would yell, shout some “get off my lawn” comment, but if he opened his mouth to speak, he'd probably end up sobbing. So he curls up deeper and feels the pain take root far beneath his skin, so white hot it feels like ice all over again, and lets his tears stain the pillow.

“Jace, are you alright?” It's Morrigan. Of course it's Morrigan. They went on two missions together and suddenly they won't stop showing up. “I can hear you. Are you–”

Fuck. He forgot about their hearing.

“–Crying?”

“No,” he says. It's muffled in his blankets. It's shaky and pathetic.

“That was entirely unconvincing. I'm coming in.”

Before he can protest, the door is open, like the lock didn't even exist. And he's splayed out on his bed in his messy studio apartment and he's crying.

God, what kind of mess does he look?

Morrigan is beside him too quickly. They've dropped something, it thuds on the floor, but they're already looking him over with an incredibly serious look in their eyes. “What happened? Who hurt you?”

JJ tries to laugh, but he's not quite done crying yet, so it comes out more like a sob. “Same people as usual.”

“Wait. Jaxon and his gang came after you? Did they–”

“No, you fucking tin can.” He looks up at their face, and softens. Even androids can look anxious and concerned, apparently. “Same people who always hurt us. The head honchos. Mission riggers. The ones who send us to our death like it's no sweat off their backs. Being a hero was so much easier back when they didn't have fucking bureaucracy.”

He turns away and hisses at the popping in his shoulders, curling up tighter. “It's fine. I'm fine. Just give me a day to be miserable.”

Morrigan's weight is gentle on the bed. He doesn't remember ever inviting them in. They just showed up and never left. “...Jace, are you touch-averse?”

“Uh. Bless you? The fuck?”

“I'm asking if I can touch you.”

JJ scoffs. “Jesus. Take me to dinner first. You break into my house one time, and now you live here, I guess. I don't give a shit.” 

A cold hand rests on his shoulder. And slowly, gently, begins to massage the muscles.

He can feel himself melt. Shifting to stretch out against the pain, Morrigan works their thumb carefully into his shoulder blades, delts, even down his spine and up on his neck. Their hands are deft, precise, unyielding.

JJ can't help it when his eyes flutter shut.

“You can go to sleep. I'm not going to hurt you, unless it's working a particularly tough knot in your shoulders. You're built like a brick wall, I think the term is?”

“Brick house,” he corrects, mumbling. “Don't kill me in my sleep.”

“We've gone over this. I'm here to help.”

JJ lets himself slip closer to sleep, further from the ache. He can feel his hands, warmer against his chest.

Distantly, he makes a mental note to give Morrigan a key next time. 

He's asleep not long after.

--

ah. trust takes time. and a little glimpse into JJ's more hopeless side (he needs a hug)

[seth-whumps]

Whumperless Whump Event Day 1

Self Done Stitches - Whumpee JJ - 232 words

--

“Give it to me,” Morrigan says.

Their hand is suddenly much closer than it was thirty seconds ago, and JJ has to fight the urge to flinch away. Journey does not flinch. He shakes his head. “It's just a scratch, I've had worse.”

Their face doesn't change from its smooth, unruffled expression, eyes too human to be anything but–except he knows what they are. “Journey, your hands are shaking. Stitches require steady fingers.”

“I've got it,” he says, shortly, and he knows he's being dismissive. But handing the deadly-murder-robot his only sharp object within the long stretch of road they're abandoned on seems like, frankly, a terrible idea. “If I didn't, I'd let you know.”

Morrigan doesn't quite sigh, but there's a release of tension in their shoulders, and they sit back on their heels in a bird-perch, nodding once. “Alright.”

It takes him longer than it should to stitch the slash in his arm, but he's used to pain. He's methodic. Lets the rhythm, the familiar patterns, guide his hand. Journey's done this a million times. It's no trouble.

The robot stops watching him halfway through, gazing over the road. It feels like privacy. A thin layer of trust in how they've exposed their back and shoulders.

JJ wraps the wound with a new fresh cloth torn from his sweatshirt, and settles in against the tree to wait and watch in quiet.

--

takes place only a few moments after their first meeting. they're not quite friendly yet lol

[seth-whumps]

seth. seth i must know this. (you may have answered this question already so i'm so sorry if you have)

are jj and morri musical at all. can either of them sing? can either of them play an instrument? if so, which one(s)???

I MUST KNOW.

OKAY SO. I HAVE BEEN WAITING TO TALK ABOUT THIS

because yes, JJ is very musical. he was in mamma mia in high school, choir wherever he could, and he has a GORGEOUS voice. soft, soothing, broad, and versatile. he can fool his way around a guitar enough for campfires and bonfires, he has experience on piano, he loves music.

and Morrigan, though they aren't aware, are so unbelievably smitten with it. jj could sing a commercial ditty and they would be in awe. it's a human thing that soothes them so very deeply. they're so down bad they don't even know

agh. they own my heart.

[seth-whumps]

I don't know if you've talked about this yet, but what is the significance of JJ's strawberry earrings?

great question!!! they're a gift from his sister, the youngest in the family, to remind him of her while he's gone. i wrote a teensy drabble on this because I adore them.

--

JJ finds her under the Kingtree.

It's not hard to know when something's wrong with her. She deflates like an overmixed macaroon, curls into herself, and then runs to watch the sky move above her head, to remind her the world still turns. So he's patient, and lets her breathe, before taking a seat beside her.

"Hey."

Sera doesn't look right away. She's not crying. Just watching the clouds cover the stars. "Hi."

"Everything okay?"

A soft grin. "Remember when you fell out of this tree?"

He's still got the click in his knee to prove it. "I thought we moved on from that?"

"And Ma said we can't play King of the Hill with it anymore?"

"So Holden called it the Kingtree to make fun of me, yeah, I know, it's not my finest moment." He's grinning though, especially at the light in her eyes.

It dies slowly, and she finally looks at him. "You remember when your friends built us a swing on the old barn for me, because I wanted one?"

"Yeah, Berry, I do," he reassures. "What's this about?"

"And when you taught me how to make lasagna, but misread the sauce jars and accidently learned that pizza sauce makes a great addition to pasta?"

"It's a staple. I meant to do it, surely."

"When you put me on your shoulders to run through the fields? When we danced in the street, you twirled me so I could see my skirt spin? When Holden and Luke and I surprised you with a car on your birthday?"

He takes her hand, threads her fingers through his. "Yeah. I remember."

"Good." She stares him down. All fight, all fire, all the sweet and spice of cinnamon cookies. "Cause you better not forget about us."

"Of course not--"

"You're moving," Sera says matter-of-factly. "When Luke had a kid, he lost contact for months. Holden still won't text me back. You can't forget about me."

"Berry, I won't," he promises, tucking her into his shoulder. "And if I do, home will remind me."

"Here."

Sera opens his palm, and presses something into it. She closes his fingers around it, keeping it hidden even in the barest hint of the sunrise.

"What's this?" JJ asks.

"A gift. So you know home is waiting for you. We all are."

"You didn't have to give me a gift, Ser--"

"I wanted to," she says firmly. "Because you're my brother. And you're the best of us. So you're going to do great things, and then you'll call me and tell me what happened. Okay?"

She's fierce. Her voice is threaded with a strength built on love, on the stable, steady growth of her family around her. On how the sun rises on the farm, and everything turns yellow, turns gold.

"Okay," JJ whispers, and it's hard to say more.

"I love you, Jace."

She throws her arms around him. He buries his face in her shoulder and breathes the cinnamon.

Around them, the sun rises, and the grass turns to gold beneath their feet. And when he opens his fist, he finds a pair of earrings--red like her hair, gold like the sun. A pair of little strawberries.

It's the first time he cries before leaving.

--

sorry she is very important to both me and JJ so I hope this is satisfactory!!! i really wanted to write a little bit of his siblings. you get names for them now too!!!

[seth-whumps]

MINI TINY QUESTION BC I WAS JUST THINKING ABOUT IT: what languages do your guys speak, if any?? and how fluent are they? how’s their accent in the language?

oh my GOSH GOOD QUESTIONNNNN

i have two answers for JJ: one possibility is that he only speaks English, the other is that he knows some incredibly obscure coded language he only uses with his siblings. like pig latin. if he knows the super silly coded one, he is so fluent you would never even know its not real. oh and a third possibility is he taught himself Esperanto because he was bored.

for Morrigan, I think it would be fun if this is one area they don't have as much expertise in--if they want to speak in a language for a mission, they actually have to train and put in effort. the pronunciation is flawless, the words easy, but it's stringing everything together to sound natural. by that logic, I think they can speak naturally in English and Japanese (for currently unknown reasons), know the database languages for one Spanish dialect and really really want to learn Gaelic. because it's a self indulgence and they enjoy the language.

thank you so much!!!! i really loved thinking about this it's so fun to consider!!!!!

[seth-whumps]

i am currently working on your questions (i was so sos so excited to get them i missed answering em about my sillies) BUT i have a quick one for you while i do...

PLEASEEE tell me more about jj's midwesternisms. i find his upbringing SO FUN and i love it so so much

follow-up question: does he have any kind of accent/voice claim? same thing for morri!!!! i loveeeee voices for characters and accents so much it tells you so much about them

OK THANKS [viciously shaking your Guys by their shoulders in excitement]

AUGHHH an opportunity to talk about JJ's accent and Midwestern upbringing??? are you aware of the gift you have given me????? bug you are THE BEST

(a lot of this is me talking about growing up in the Midwest because I think JJ should get the good parts too)

JJ spent his time under the stars, a lot. Far away from the city, you get the prettiest view of the sky at night. He would start a bonfire with his brothers and sister, make smores under the night sky. It's some of his fondest memories. He really misses the stars sometimes.

So, JJ is from the outskirts of a very small town in South Dakota. Most of his time was spent either on farm chores or daydreaming during the drive to school, which took an hour at times. He knew how to drive tractor when he was eight; he rode horses and cared for chickens and spent his life doing the dirty work. When he was younger, he was tanned, sported sunburns, and had more freckles and muscle from the work.

Speaking of, he does have siblings! Two older brothers, and one younger sister who could kick any of their asses. There's a scrapbook of family photos somewhere in the boxes of his studio apartment in Chicago (the city may change in the future), and one of her sitting on his shoulders in a corn field. When life is hell, he finds that book.

Despite that, JJ wasn't The Farm Kid in his family. His oldest brother was supposed to take over the farm before he had a kid; then the second oldest moved to Georgia. He was a farm kid, but he didn't know it as well as his brothers. He left for Chicago anyway. Everyone knew why. He couldn't make a difference in a small town like that. He was "born for better things".

Some small midwesternisms!!!

He can drive manual, as said in another post

He can and will kick your ass at pool and at darts. And poker or gin rummy. Lots of bar games

His strength was never superhuman. He was just used to throwing hay bales

He feels very isolated in the city because he doesn't know everyone

He played sports in high school, mainly baseball, but he was also in some theater things. He loved expressions, and playing the heros

He got a box of all of his dad's old comic books and read them all the time

There is a Midwestern custom of if you're on time, you're late, and if you're early, you're on time. This is deeply instilled in JJ. He hates being late

He is very used to picking up problems. This is an odd phrase, but consider: you grow up on a farm that raises several baby animals. Those animals are problems? You pick them up. That habit carries over. He will just pick people up if they're being an issue

If a house isn't carpeted, he wears his shoes. Farm house floors aren't as clean as city houses. The habit is hard to break

His favorite road rage insult is "dipstick" because he didn't swear in the car when his parents drove with him

ACCENTS NOW!!!

For JJ, Midwestern accents are distinct in that they sound almost typical American with just a little bit of strange to it. Often you'll hear an 'e' sound before an 'a' (let's she'are something, can I te'ake that from you), and that is still mildly present in his accent. He also tends to crack down pretty hard on 'r' sounds--take a typical American accent and make all the vowels a little harsher, and you've got the classic Midwest. The faster he talks, the more harsh the vowels and rhotics get.

Morrigan's accent is much more West Coast or Washington. Not a movie popular "sahh dude" kind of accent, but if you took the harshness out of the Midwest and the roundness out of the Southern, you get a sort of California accent. There is a lightness on 'r's and vowels ever so slightly reminiscent of English accents (they also say "aye-ther" instead of "eether"). They're however able to change their accent depending on the situation. (It is hilarious to witness stuffy, professional Morrigan start ranting like they're from New Jersey.)

--

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THESE QUESTIONS rambling about his Midwestern experience was so cathartic you are the absolute best ily bug /p <33333

[seth-whumps]

Whumperless Whump Event Day 2

Car accident/Bystander Caretaker - whumpee Morrigan - 656 words

tw car accident, blood mention, panicking, temporary blindness

--

The odd connections between sound and awareness do not fully make sense to Morrigan.

They're somewhere in the void of stasis, only the barest of code running to keep them functioning. Standstill components are just as dangerous as overheated ones. It's like a manual transmission–they do not function well if they're starting cold.

Beyond that, though, is the quietest filtering of static. Eyes closed means they're not awake yet. But they're… hearing.

Something is wrong.

The first error flashes up into their black vision. It's followed then by several more, and a Critical Injury warning–which is probably the least reassuring thing to wake up to–and a handful of readings on the weather. They swipe it all away and focus on forcing their systems to run.

Static hums in their ears, louder and louder, until it crackles and with a loud pop, they can hear a voice.

“--got you. You're okay. Are you awake? You're moving. Listen, you've been in an accident–”

It's not one they recognize. Smooth, feminine, round in tone and darker, elegant. Likely a woman of status. They still can't see.

Morrigan is damaged. And the only person they can hear is a stranger.

A warning pops up. Stress levels increasing.

Carefully, they push a system check on their larynx, to test if their voice will still work. Luckily it seems undamaged.

“What happened?” they whisper.

The woman's voice is just as close. Behind her are louder sounds, sirens, clamoring voices. Metal screeching. “Someone ran a red light and slammed straight into your car, your friend's a little ways away, I think he's–”

“Jace,” they say immediately. Their eyes still do not open. It's terrifying to be trapped in the dark. “How is he? Is he alright?”

“Yes, he's dazed, I think he's just coming to. Standing, he seems alright. You're right messed up though–”

Oh. They're injured. There's not-blood all over their jacket, surely, and it may be dark, but their skin is still pale and the mixture that keeps them running is definitely not red. This is bad. This is bad.

Instinct kicks in. This is a dangerous situation. They have to make a choice.

They feel the woman's hand reach out and flinch, hard, away. “Don't touch me.”

“Alright, I'm sorry, you're just–I was going to put you in rescue position–”

“Don't. Please don't touch me.” The fear isn't hard to conjure. Whatever it takes to keep the woman far enough away from recognizing what they are.

“You're alright! You're–”

Morrigan drags as much panic up from this situation into their voice, like someone claustrophobic stuck in a coffin. “Please, please, please–”

“I'm not going to, alright, I promise, I'm not gonna touch you. Hey. Tell me your name?”

“Morrigan,” they heave. “Morrigan White.”

“Good. My name is Kim, I'm just here to make sure you're awake before the ambulance gets here–”

“Morri, are you alright?”

Jace. Thank god.

“Scuze me, hey, sorry, thanks for the help, Morrigan, are you up, are you hurt–”

“One at a time, Jace,” they remind him, a half desperate laugh falling from their lips, despite how their eyes remain completely dead. “A simple ‘how's your day been’ does wonders.”

“Smart-ass, you're gonna bleed out on the fucking pavement, don't get sparky with me. Hey. Hey. Look at me.”

They laugh again. It's a hopeless, broken thing. “I can't.”

JJ pauses, for a long while. A siren screams even closer now. “You… can't.”

“I'm blind. I can't see anything. Something broke. I–”

“Don't panic, it's eyes, we can do this, we just need to get out of here. We'll get you fixed up. I promise.”

A promise. Journey doesn't break his word. Morrigan clutches his arm tighter, allowing themselves to be guided upwards. They lean heavily on him.

“It's alright, Morri. It'll be alright.”

His words are soft and certain all at once. So Morri keeps their eyes closed, and is led away from the scene.

--

they're both fine in the end i promise morri gets their eyesight back