Merry Whump Of May 2024 Prompts

Mediwhump May - Day 7

"First Night in Hospital"

(original characters/story)

@mediwhumpmay

“Family of Michelle Tate?”

Troy jumped to his feet before he’d even really registered what the nurse had said. Beside him, Daniel stood up too. 

“It’s Michael. He’s Michael.” Daniel sighed.

The nurse looked over the clipboard in their hands again and nodded. “You’re family?”

Troy felt Daniel’s hand on his shoulder. “We are.” Daniel said. 

That was kind of Daniel. 

He wasn’t Michael’s family. He was the one that had gotten Michael into this mess. He was the one who had pushed Michael too hard. Guilt sat in the pit of Troy’s stomach like a stone.

“Follow me.” 

Daniel followed the nurse, with Troy bringing up the rear. They led them into a room. The doctor explained Michael’s condition. Troy wrapped an arm around Daniel’s shoulders when the kid started to cry. They were told the visiting hours. They were told that talking to Michael would be good for him. And then, they were left alone. 

Daniel sat beside Michael’s bed and Troy didn’t, he couldn’t, he paced around the room. He was sore and exhausted and every step ached. But he couldn’t sit. He could barely look at Michael, lying pale in the bed, covered in tubes and wires.

But Daniel sat as close as he could to his brother without actually getting into the bed. He held Michael’s remaining hand, stroking the back of it with his thumb. And he talked.

“Mom and dad know. Mom’s coming tomorrow. I’ll be with her.” Daniel said. “I don’t know when dad will come, but he will. I’ll make him.” Daniel then looked back at Troy. His eyes were red and wet.

“I’ll come tomorrow too.” Troy reassured. “Sharon knows what happened. I called her earlier.”

Daniel nodded then turned back to Michael. 

“It should have been me.” Troy felt the words leave him before he realized what he had said. The ringing thought he’d had in his mind ever since he found Tate. The only thought. It should have been me.

“This isn’t about you.” Daniel kept his eyes on his brother.

Troy’s face burned with shame. “I know, I’m sorry, I-”

“It’s okay.” Daniel interrupted and aimed a smile back at Troy. “You’re hurt, you’re grieving, we say weird stuff. But this is about Tate, not you. He saved a lot of people today.”

“He’s a hero.” Troy murmured and wiped his eyes. 

Daniel laughed softly. “Don’t let him hear you say that.”

“Yeah.” Troy smiled too. “I’m sorry… I’m just so sorry this happened.”

“I know. Me too. But he knew what he was getting into.” Daniel said. “Troy, you didn’t do this to him. This isn’t your fault.”

And that was it. Troy crumbled. Tears filled his eyes. Snot ran. And he sobbed. Daniel got up from the chair and embraced him. Troy wept into his shoulder and hugged him back.

hi merlin fandom i'm back I have more tallies for you, I only have one spreadsheet for this so it won't be nearly as huge as my spell tally, but I am doing all the seasons in one go so who knows

BBC Merlin Whump Tallies

After rewatching the entirety of the show, some episodes more than once, and taking notes the whole time, I present to you a summary of data categorising the injuries and illnesses sustained by all named, recurring characters (2-pt-ers not withstanding) from 2008-2012's BBC Merlin.

Season 1

Season 1 contained a total of 27 incidents to its various characters. The character with the most incidents was Merlin, with 6 (22%). In earlier counts, he was the only character this season to endure at least one in every category: Small, 'Somewhere in-between', Life-threatening, Poison/Venom/Drugged, Magical Affliction, and Thrown/Unhorsed.

The runner up was Arthur, who had 5 incidents (19%).

Arthur and Merlin tied for character who was rendered unconscious most often, with Arthur passing out 3 times and being knocked out once, and Merlin being knocked out 3 times and passing out once.

Smallest injury: Merlin - graze on his shoulder blade from getting hit by the handle of a broomstick wielded by Arthur in Episode 1. I know in scar reveal fics people like to use the supposed mace wound from the fight with Arthur as 'Merlin's first scar', but unfortunately that has no actual basis in canon. Arthur does not hit Merlin with a mace (there aren't even maces in that fight, the weapon they use is called a flail). Merlin causes the chain to get tangled earlier in the fight, after which Arthur grabs a broomstick to use as a weapon instead.

Dumbest injury: Not sure about "dumb" but easily the most inconsequential is in Episode 7-- one of the times Merlin gets put in the stocks he comes back sore, complaining "they were throwing potatoes!"

Things Merlin should not have survived: His heart stopping in Episode 4 (antidote wouldn't be absorbed that fast, + can't circulate if no circulation), getting struck by Sidhe lightning in Episodes 7 and 12 (insta-kills everyone else, including the Sidhe themselves who explode. Only exception to this is Grunhilda in Season 3, a pixie, who does also explode it just takes more than one shot), and getting struck by a fireball in Episode 13 (self-explanatory I think).

Season 2

Season 2 contained a total of 22 incidents, an 18.52% decrease from Season 1 and the lowest of any season. The greatest number of these were made up by Arthur, who was injured or poisoned/drugged 10 times (45%). The runner up was Merlin, who was injured 5 times (23%).

The character rendered unconscious the greatest amount of times was Arthur, who passed out or was knocked out 2 times each.

Smallest injury: Arthur gets elbowed in the stomach by the troll in the confrontation at the end of Episode 6, it's ok though he almost immediately gets launched across the room into a wall so they made up for it (and he had been on the brink of death mere moments before due to willingly drinking poison).

Dumbest injury: Sorry Gwen, but it's probably when she fell and hurt her ankle for plot purposes in Episode 4. It doesn't even continue to bother her at any later point in the episode.

Things Merlin should not have survived: Nothing! He was pretty physically safe this season. Ish.

Season 3

Season 3 contained a total of 32 incidents, an increase of 45.45% from Season 2, led in number by Merlin who had 9 incidents (28%) all to himself. 3 of these were small injuries however, so he was not quite as damaged by the end of the season as Arthur, who had 8 incidents (25%).

The character rendered unconscious the greatest amount of times was Arthur, who passed out 5 times and was knocked out once.

Smallest injury: When Merlin was hit in the stomach by the pommel of Morgana's sword in the crypt in Episode 2, but honourable mention to when Merlin and Arthur were shot with tranquilliser darts and fell from their horses in Episode 12. TBF falling from a horse is incredibly dangerous, but neither of them had any residual effects or pain, and it's hilarious to me that they got shot with tranquilliser darts. Like rabid animals. The scene also is just really funny.

Dumbest injury: When Merlin was being dumb and demonstrating his lack of understanding of a) what a sword is and b) blade safety by messing around with "Sir Ethan" and "Sir Oswald"'s swords, and dropping one on his finger, getting a decent little cut.

Things Merlin should not have survived: Getting stung by an adult serket in Episode 1, not to mention the fact that he had already been knocked out for hours earlier that day (not normal to be out for that long, sign of brain injury), that he was bound in chains that made it difficult to breathe and impossible to move also for several hours, and the fact that Kilgharrah also took multiple hours to get to him (if you're not sure about this, rewatch the sequence and pay attention to the amount of daylight in each shot). Unbelievable. (Did receive external treatment so take it with a grain of salt.) Honourable mention to when he was thrown all the way across the council chambers in Episode 13 and was literally writhing in pain before having to get back up and finish dealing with the cup of life. Oh my god I hope he got treatment for that.

Season 4

Season 4 contained a total of 78 incidents, an 143.75% increase from Season 3 (yikes), headed up by Merlin who goes through 21 incidents (27%). That's right, almost as high as the total of all incidents sustained by all recurring characters in Season 2. Leave that kid alone!! 5 of them were counted as small injuries, but that still leaves him significantly ahead of the runner up- Arthur who had 11 incidents (14%) (with 4 of them considered small, leaving him barely more injured than 3rd place, which is tied between Leon and Morgana, both on 7 [9%]).

The character rendered unconscious the greatest amount of times was (you guessed it!) Merlin, who passed out 5 times and was knocked out a further 6 times. 6 of those collective 11 instances were in a single episode. Episode 6: A Servant of Two Masters was awful for his nervous system. (Interesting note: Runner up for this season is actually not Arthur, who's only unconscious twice this season! Rather it's shared between Elyan and Gwaine, who each pass out and are knocked out twice apiece, for a total of 4 instances each.)

Smallest injury: Arthur elbows the shade of Lancelot in the stomach in their confrontation in Episode 9.

Dumbest injury: PERCIVAL. IN EPISODE 2. All caps because THIS IS SO PREVENTABLE. Ok so we're all extremely aware of this man's constant lack of sleeves, including on his armour. Now, studio execs, I get it, really I do. As Bradley James says: 'Guns haven't been invented in Camelot but he brings two of them.' He's a beautiful man. On another note, we all are aware what type of attack chainmail is meant to prevent, yes? It's slashing. And where, might I ask, does Percival get his only injury from a slashing attack? Bingo! On his goddamn arms. In Episode 2. No other knight has that problem in this episode because all of them have sleeves. Percival. (That being said it was a wyvern attack so it may have tore through the armour anyway but I'm ignoring that.)

Things Merlin should not have survived: Getting struck by the Dorocha in Episode 1 (insta-kill for literally everyone else, but Merlin survives long enough for magical treatment). The other injury I had marked as life-threatening was the flail wound from Episode 6, not only because of the internal damage it would have done but also because of how fast and how seriously it became infected, but that received external magical healing so it's fair that he survived it. If Morgana hadn't treated it, then he should have died.

Honourable mentions to Gwaine, Gaius, and Elyan who were kept in a cell and starved for 7 days in Episodes 12 and 13. This didn't make it onto the spreadsheet because I didn't know how to count it, but it's in the tallies. During this time, Elyan was also "tortured to the limit of human endurance" (direct quote from Gaius), and Gwaine was taken out of the cell multiple times to fight for his food, meaning he was both malnourished and getting beaten up at the same time! Plus Gaius literally thought he was going to die in that cell and had a whole speech about it.

Season 5

Season 5 contained a total of 64 incidents, a 17.95% decrease from Season 4. The character who endured the most issues was Merlin, who had 11 incidents (17%). The runner-up was very close behind, being Arthur on 10 incidents (16%).

The character rendered unconscious the greatest amount of times was Merlin, who passed out 7 times and was knocked out 4 times.

Smallest injury: Gwaine got slapped by one of Morgana's henchmen in Episode 1 after back-talking her.

Dumbest injury: Audrey, the cook, confronted Merlin in his Dragoon form in Episode 7. She threatened him with a triple-pronged fire poker, accused him of conspiracy to steal her pies, and in response he insulted her and knocked her out with a pot. Iconic.

Things Merlin should not have survived: There are a few things Merlin only survives with external treatment this season, which kind of disqualifies them from the purpose of this section (see the disclaimers at the bottom of this post) but I'll list the worst of them anyway. In Episode 8, he is knocked out, poisoned, and kicked off a cliff. The poison largely immobilises him, and he is left alone in the forest for at least ~27 hours, unable even to turn his head in order to vomit safely. He also has a seizure after treatment is administered, then falls unconscious after. In Episode 10, he is shot in the side with an arrow. The arrow is pulled out, no first aid or pressure or anything AT ALL are applied, and then he is forced to run from assailants for some hours. He passes out before he is found and healed.

Honourable mention to Episode 12, which had absolutely bonkers amount of external magical intervention to save his life (magic had been stolen, causing him to pass out when it initially happens, and later he loses consciousness three separate times in that cave). Honourable mention also to Episode 13, which I'm not sure he really survived at all.

Overall

BBC Merlin subjects its recurring characters to a total of 223 whump incidents throughout its 65 episodes.

The characters who was whumped on the most was Merlin, who endured 52 incidents (23%, or once every 1.25 episodes).

The runner up is Arthur, who underwent 44 incidents throughout the show (20%, or once every 1.48 episodes).

Merlin also fell unconscious the most of any character, passing out 17 times and getting knocked out 15 times for a total of 32 instances rendered unconscious.

Arthur was also the runner up for amount of times rendered unconscious, with a total of 22 -- knocked out 9 times and passed out 13.

This was, obviously, very predictable, so I'll give you third and fourth places as well.

For total whump incidents:

3rd Place - Morgana - 23 incidents (10%)

4th Place - Leon - 16 incidents (7%)

For being rendered unconscious:

3rd Place - Morgana - 11 incidents (4 passing out, 7 knocked out, + the time she was in a coma in S1, which was more 'not waking up' than either of the options listed but you may count it if you wish.)

4th Place - Gwaine - 10 incidents (5 passing out, 5 knocked out)

Because there were so few examples of it, I did do unconscious counts for non-recurring named characters as well.

Named characters were rendered unconscious a collective of 113 times in 65 episodes. That means someone known to the audience became unconscious once every 0.57 of an episode, or almost twice per episode.

This was split between passing out - 59 total incidents (once every 1.10 episodes) and getting knocked out - 54 total incidents (once every 1.20 episodes).

Characters frequently unconscious previously stated. Characters not listed in the spreadsheet who became unconscious were:

Sir Ewan - Passed out when bitted by an enchanted snake - 1x02

Jonas - Knocked out when Merlin smashes a piece of pottery over his head- 2x05

Princess Elena - Passed out when Merlin sedated her - 3x06

King Cenred - Knocked out when the ceiling of the throneroom in the Castle of Fyrien collapsed - 3x07

Julius Borden - Knocked out when Merlin threw him against a wall in the Tomb of Ashkanar - 4x04

Princess Mithian - Passed out after riding through the night to Camelot after Nemeth is conquered - 5x04

Audrey, the cook - Knocked out when Merlin gets annoyed with her and whacks her over the head with a pot - 5x07

While my spreadsheets do not reflect this, the compiled dataset actually takes every named character into account, including non-recurring ones, like guest characters and villains-of-the-week. This even includes characters without any screentime, as long as we know their name. Therefore, without further ado--

Every knight of Camelot who is canonically dead in the BBC Merlin universe (members of the BBCM round table italicised):

Sir Ewan (1x02)

Sir Owain (1x09)

Sir Pellinor (1x09)

Sir Bedivere - no screentime (1x13)

Sir Alynor (2x02)

Sir Ethan (3x04)

Sir Oswald (3x04)

Sir Edric - no screentime (3x12)

Sir Alduuf - no screentime (3x12)

Sir Osric - no screentime (3x12)

Sir Lancelot

Sir Ranulf - no screentime (5x05)

Sir Elyan

Sir Gwaine

King Arthur

Also, not that you're asking, but Sir Pellinor was killed in the episode Excalibur and Sir Bedivere was killed in the episode Le Morte d'Arthur by the Questing Beast. It would make literally no difference and would be so much more in touch with the Arthurian mythos this entire show stems from if they just switched the names. It makes no sense to me that they kill Pellinor before the Questing Beast plotline when they literally do the Questing Beast IN THE SAME SEASON.

And last but not least, I made some graphs if you'd like them (open the image for higher quality) (sorry the first one's so ugly, it had such low readability as a line graph so I switched it to an area chart):

Figure 1: A stepped area chart showing the frequency of whump incidents for prominent recurring character by season.

Figure 2: An area chart showing the frequency of total whump incidents by season.

Figure 3: A line graph showing the frequency of passing out for some characters (round table -Gaius +Morgana) by season.

Figure 4: A line graph showing the frequency of getting knocked out for some characters (round table -Gaius +Morgana) by season.

Disclaimers and Data

Big one first: Merlin is my favourite character, which means I have bestowed on him the role of whump victim (<3). Because of this I was biased towards recording his misfortunes more than other characters. I tried to be fair and sympathetic to the plights of other characters just as much, but it's important you're aware of that anyway.

The reason I included "Things Merlin should not have survived" as a category was because of his immortality. I am very aware that other characters went through life-threatening things -- at times more than Merlin did -- but I personally headcanon that Merlin actually did die at some points and was revived by his magic (particularly in Season 1). Even if you don't have that headcanon as well, you have to admit his magic had to play a role in saving his life sometimes, and I wanted to have a list of those occasions.

And as always, my counting is imperfect and at times generated discrepancies. Here are some of the measures I took to minimise them:

Merlin and Arthur's unconscious stats (# times they passed out/were knocked out) were retallied.

All characters' unconscious stats were retallied and categorised by season.

Characters that showed discrepancies between the two counts were retallied again (Merlin, Arthur, Morgana, Leon, Gwen, Percival)

Character injury data was inputted episode-by-episode. When the final episodes' data was bulk uploaded, all characters were retallied. Characters whose numbers lowered in the retally were retallied again (Morgause, Percival, and Hunith -- who was since removed from the spreadsheet).

Characters whose whump totals differed between the tallies and the spreadsheet were retotaled (Merlin, Arthur, Morgana, Gwaine, Gaius) until the discrepancy was eliminated (in Merlin and Arthur's case, retallied entirely).

Merlin's numbers specifically were retallied, retotaled, or recounted more than 10. Times. So trust me, all known discrepancies have been eliminated.

That being said, if you happen to look through the original document and find I missed an injury or illness, it won't be in the numbers or the spreadsheet, so let me know!!

You can find those details here:

Original Dataset A list, with descriptions, of every incidence of whump that occurred to a named character by episode.

Spreadsheet The numerical data with accompanying graphs.

I hope these may be useful to you, especially all my fellow whump writers out there <3 keep doing what you're doing, and feel free to get in touch if you notice an error, want further clarification, or just want to chat! I'm always happy to chat.

Personal note: I'm such a sucker for medical accuracy. I'm currently studying to go into the medical field, so if we're both still around in a couple years, expect me to come back and bring you some scientifically-informed analyses of how truly not-ok these guys are.

And thank you so much for reading!! <3

Merry Whump of May - Day 4

“Two birds, one bullet.”

Chess Pieces

Stubborn

Tower

(Original characters/story)

@themerrywhumpofmay

Rex did it without even thinking.

He saw the farmer raise his rifle. Saw the finger tremble. Stockton flinched.

The crack of the gun.

Rex just didn’t think.

He just wanted to protect Stockton, his friend.

Rex raised his hand and pulled the bullet away from Stockton’s head. It flew past his friend and slammed straight into Rex’s guts. A blinding punch of paralyzing pain. 

Yeah, he hadn’t really had the time to stop that too. Oh well. 

Rex heard the wind leave his lungs and he crumpled to the ground. Honestly, the ground was just much more comfortable. The sun was at high noon so he closed his eyes against it, his eyelids red with its heat. 

Someone was shouting. Probably Burden.

They had approached the homestead as carefully as possible. They needed some supplies and were willing to barter with the farmer. But the guy was scared. Rex couldn’t blame him. Bandits were everywhere. And they didn’t really look trustworthy to begin with.

So when Stockton and his big mouth had said something just the tiniest bit sassy, the farmer got a little more nervous than the situation really called for. Rex had tried to talk him down. So did Burden. But of course, Burden wasn’t a people-person. So Burden had made it worse.

Stockton had taken a step closer to the property line. And that was it. The farmer fired.

Thank god he only fired once. Rex didn’t think he could curve another bullet today. His belly hurt too much, every breath he took it felt like someone was digging a shard of glass into his intestines. 

“My fucking ear!” Stockton was wailing.

Rex cracked his eyes when a shadow fell over him. It was Burden.

“Hey.” Rex whispered. “Stockton okay?”

“He’s being a little bitch.” Burden’s eyes looked Rex up and down.

Rex felt a crushing pressure on his wound and a soft keening wail escaped his lips. 

“Sorry.” Burden was pale. Eyes wide. Burden was scared. When had Burden ever been scared? “I’m sorry but I gotta put pressure on it.”

Rex nodded.

Someone said something. Burden turned away, shouting an answer. “The moron fucking moved it. You’ve seen him move things before. He moved the fucking bullet! Happy?”

Rex closed his eyes again against the bright sun. It was a hot day. Why was he so cold?

“Okay, we’re going. Get ready.” Burden had turned back and murmured into Rex’s ear.

Rex nodded. He braced himself.

It wasn’t enough.

Burden’s strong arms slipped behind Rex’s shoulders and under his knees. As soon as he was lifted from the dusty ground, Rex screamed. Everything went quiet. His ears rang.

When Rex opened his eyes again, his head was turned upward. He saw the sun and sky disappear, replaced by the roof of a porch and then a doorway. The cool darkness of a home. He heard Stockton’s voice and the soft sobs of someone else. Stockton was explaining something.

“I’ve got you, Rex.” Burden said softly and Rex felt it. He felt the vibrations of Burden’s words through his chest.

Rex leaned his head against Burden’s shoulder and just tried to breathe through the pain.

“Where can I put him? There a table somewhere?” Burden shouted. 

“In here!”

Rex heard a sweep and the sound of many things hitting the floor. He angled his head downward and saw dozens of chess pieces rolling across the hardwood floor. And then he was laid out on a table, hard and shuddering beneath him. 

Rex eyed the dusty light fixture above him. 

Burden came into view again.

“Hey.” Rex whispered.

Burden tried to smile. “Hey.”

“Stockton okay?” He asked again.

“He’s still a little bitch, but he’s an alive bitch.” Burden sighed. “Pressure again.”

Blinding pain in his gut and Rex’s ears began to ring. Tears slid from his eyes and trailed down his cheeks and into his ears. 

“Ow.” Rex said softly.

Stockton came into view, covered in blood.

Rex reached out and grabbed Stockton’s arm. “You’re hurt.”

“Just my ear.” Stockton turned to show Rex a bloody, dark wound on his ear. A chunk of cartilage was just missing.

“Too bad it wasn’t your mouth.” Burden grumbled. 

“Mister, I am so sorry.” The farmer’s tear-stained face came into view. “I’ve never shot anyone before, it’s just some people have been showing up lately and-”

“It’s okay.” Rex tried to speak around the pain. He swallowed hard. “It’s okay, what’s your name?”

“Oh, Ed.” The farmer named Ed wiped his eyes on a handkerchief. “Eddie Lang.”

Rex held out a hand to Ed, only just now noticed his own fingers were covered in blood. “Nice to meet you Mr. Lang. I’m Rex. These are my friends Burden Chatham and Stockton T. Hunt.”

Ed Lang hesitated a moment then took Rex’s hand warmly. “Just Ed is fine. It’s nice to meet you. I am so so sorry I shot you, Mr. Rex.”

“Not a bother, Ed.” Rex’s eyes were drawn to a fallen castle chess piece on the table beside him. “I’m sorry we interrupted your chess game.”

Ed sniffed and smiled a little. “Oh, I was just playing against myself. It passes the time.”

“I haven’t had a good game of chess in years.” Rex wheezed.

“Alright.” Burden growled. “Enough. Mr. Lang- Ed, got any medical supplies? Better yet, there a doctor nearby?”

“Next farm over.” Ed answered. “Checked in with her a week ago, she takes supplies and pills as payment for services.”

“We can make that work.” Burden’s hand left Rex’s wound. “Stockton, pressure.”

“Right, yes, sorry.” Stockton winced when he looked at the damage to Rex’s guts. He went pale and then green.

“Don’t throw up on me.” Rex begged. “Please.”

“I won’t.” Stockton reassured him. “It’s the least I can do for my savior.” Rex rolled his eyes. “Sorry about your ear.”

“Don’t worry about it. Gives me character.” Stockton grinned. 

Rex smiled. 

Burden reappeared, speaking to Stockton. “We’re going to get the doctor. Ed says to watch his aunt. Thirty minutes tops.” 

Burden leaned close to Rex, putting a hand to Rex’s cheek. His fingers were rough and warm. “Can you hang on thirty minutes?” Burden murmured.

Rex nodded, looking into Burden’s eyes, the only kind and soft part of Burden.

Burden nodded too. Then disappeared.

The house fell silent. 

Stockton frowned. “What aunt?”

“Me.” Came a soft voice from across the room. 

Stockton screamed, jostling his hand against Rex’s wound. So Rex screamed. 

Stockton whirled around and Rex turned his head as best as he could.

There sat a wizened old lady, perched in an armchair with a tv tray in front of her. Several playing cards were laid out on the tray in a pattern.

“Pardon us, ma’am.” Rex nodded as best as he could considering the angle. “I would stand and introduce myself but-”

“You may have heard, I’m Stockton, this is Rex.” Stockton cut in. “Have you been sitting there the whole time.”

“The whole time.” Ed’s aunt repeated. “I’m Hazel Lang.” Her wrinkled mouth twisted into a smile. “I’m surprised Ed shot you.” She looked to Rex.

“Me too.” Rex grunted. 

“Two birds, one bullet.” She commented.

Rex didn’t dare laugh, but it was a little funny. “Playing solitaire, Miss Lang.” 

“Tarot.” She replied. 

“Neato.” Stockton said.

“Should I do a reading for you?” She asked. 

Rex thought for a moment. “Can’t think of a better opportunity, honestly. Read away.”

Both Hazel and Stockton worked to keep Rex alert and responding as Hazel Lang explained shuffling the deck. Rex clumsily cut it with his bloody fingers. And then she began the reading. 

Hazel laid out three cards on the table beside Rex’s head. “This is a basic reading, son: past, present, and future.”

“Okay.” Rex blinked and tried to keep everything in focus. 

They had changed out towels for his wound a few times. Rex had lost count. Each time Stockton went to grab another he’d looked more and more worried. 

Hazel flipped the first one. 

“What’s it?” Rex slurred.

“The Devil.”

He lost time as Hazel explained that this was his past.

That made sense. 

The second one was flipped. “This is the present. The Ten of Swords.”

“Can… I see?”

Miss Hazel held the card out. A man lay on the ground, pierced by many swords. 

“That…that sums it up.” He sighed and closed his eyes. 

“And the future. Oh.” Hazel Lang fell silent. 

Stockton asked. “Is that one bad?”

“Generally.” Hazel answered.

“Give it to me… s-straight, Miss Lang.” Rex opened his eyes. Colors were blurring together. 

“The Tower.” The elder pronounced.

The front door banged open. Rex heard Burden’s voice from far away.

“Sounds ‘bout right.” And Rex fell into darkness.

Fringe S03E10 (The Firefly)

Mediwhump May - Stitches

(BBC Merlin)

@mediwhumpmay

Merlin didn’t know how long he had been hiding in the thorn bushes. The shouts of the bandits and their crunching footsteps in the snow had long died away. But he dared not move. He could not move. 

The deep wound in his thigh made it impossible.

Merlin shivered. The sun was going down.

The frigid, wet snow has soaked deeply into his clothes, contrasting with the hot and sticky blood oozing from his leg. Merlin sighed. Closed his eyes for only a moment. Just a moment. He was so tired.

So tired.

Snow had begun to fall again.

“Merlin!”

Merlin was shaken awake, thigh throbbing with fire. He gasped.

Bandits.

They were after him.

His eyes flew open and before he really saw anything, he sprang away from whatever had grabbed him. He struck out and tried to twist away from the grip on his arm.

“You idiot! Stop it!”

Merlin stopped. The voice was familiar. His vision cleared and Arthur’s face swam into view, cheeks pink with cold.

“What are you doing here?” Arthur’s voice was entirely too loud. The bandits would hear. They would find them. And Merlin was too tired to protect Arthur.

Merlin opened his mouth to warn Arthur.

Prince Arthur stuck his torch upright in the ground and began to haul his manservant to his feet, dusting snow from his clothes. “We have been looking for you for hours. What are you doing napping in a bush? In the snow?”

As soon as Arthur let go, Merlin crumpled, pain flaring in his leg. He gasped as he hit the ground. 

“What is wrong with you now?”

“Leg.” Merlin whispered. 

Arthur didn’t try to pick him up this time but instead brought the torch closer to examine Merlin’s leg.

“You’re hurt.” A rough gloved hand probed the wound.

Merlin jumped and cried out. “Yes.” He panted. “Bandits… attacked me while I was-”

“Gathering herbs for Gaius.” Arthur finished, removing his hand quickly. “I know, he asked us to look for you when you didn’t come back. This is still bleeding, Merlin, we should- What should we do?”

Merlin saw Arthur looking at him for help, eyes wide, face white. Arthur was scared. Arthur didn’t know what to do.

Merlin swallowed and nodded, trying to focus. What would Gaius do?”

“I’m cold and-”

Before Merlin had finished speaking, Arthur had taken off his cloak and wrapped it around Merlin’s body.

Merlin smiled a little at the warmth and closed his eyes. 

“And?” Arthur prodded him. “What else?”

Merlin opened his eyes again. “The wound, I need to look at it. Either bind it or sew it. Got to… got to clean it.”

“Can’t I just get you back to Gaius?” Arthur frowned. “He can fix you up.”

“No.” Merlin shook his head, the world spinning a little. “No, it’s still bleeding. I might not get back in time.”

“In time for what?”

Merlin gave Arthur a look. 

Arthur met his gaze then nodded. “Right, yes, dying. Sorry.”

“Obviously.” Merlin sighed. He thought a moment more. “Can you start a fire?”

“It’ll be difficult with the snow.”

“I know.”

“I’ll do it.” Arthur got up. “I’ll get kindling. Don’t die while I’m gone.”

Merlin huffed out a laugh. “I’ll try.” He tried to put pressure on the wound and winced in pain.

Merlin drifted a little. Arthur came back pretty quickly and using the flint that Merlin carried in his bag, started a little campfire. Merlin finally began to warm, the feeling returning to his fingers and toes.

“Better?” Arthur asked, finally sitting down nearby.

Merlin nodded.

Arthur leaned forward. “Now what?”

Merlin swallowed hard. “I need to look at the wound, close to the light of the fire.”

As soon as he finished speaking, Arthur stood up again and helped Merlin slide closer to the fire. 

“Thanks.” Merlin grunted and looked down at the slit in his pant-leg, dark with blood. “Do you have a knife so I could-”

Arthur leaned forward and just ripped the pant-leg open, revealing Merlin’s thigh and the ugly, oozing wound.

Merlin sighed. “Thanks again.”

“No problem.” Arthur looked at the wound. “That looks bad, Merlin.” His voice had become tight.

“I know.” Merlin opened his bag and began to dig around. “I think-... I think I have to suture it.”

“Like sewing? What are you going to use for needle and thread out here, idiot? I should have taken you to Gaius.”

Merlin held up his small sewing pouch under Arthur’s nose.

“What’s this?”

“My sewing kit.” Merlin smirked a little.

“You carry a sewing kit everywhere you go? You are such a girl, Merlin.”

“A prepared girl.”

“You have me there.” Arthur admitted. 

Merlin unrolled the pouch and pulled out the roll of gut and a curved, sharpened fish bone. His trusty needle. He’d made it last summer and was rather proud of it.

Merlin prepared the needle and thread and sat up against his bag and Arthur’s rolled up cloak. This was the best view he was going to get of the wound. Merlin raised the needle.

“Wait, wait.” Arthur stopped him.

“What?”

Arthur gestured towards the wound. “Is that it? You’re not going to clean it? Or take something for the pain?”

Merlin frowned. “Arthur, Prince Dolt, we are in the middle of nowhere. There’s nothing to clean it with. And I have no herbs for pain, nor any way to prepare them. My main concern is just not to lose enough blood that I die. So I will suture this. Bind it. And then we can get back to Gaius for the other things. Understand?”

Arthur had gone a little pale, but nodded. 

Merlin took a breath and began to sew.

The first suture was awful. The second was worse. 

Well, they were very neat. Gaius would be proud. But they hurt so much on top of the fiery pain of the sword wound. 

The third made sweat bead on Merlin’s forehead and upper lip. The fourth had him panting.

In the middle of the fifth, Arthur asked. “Does it hurt?”

Merlin didn’t take his eyes off his work and couldn’t really form words. He had just enough energy to grunt.

“Right, sorry.” Arthur kept quiet after that.

The sixth made the blood drain from Merlin’s face. He stopped counting after that. Or he lost count.

He tied off the last suture and cut the gut. Arthur pressed some strips of cloth into his hands and Merlin managed to bandage the wound, tying it with numb and blood-stained fingers. 

His whole leg throbbed. The forest spun around him. Merlin closed his eyes. 

A strong arm wrapped around his shoulders and the other supported his knees. He floated away.

“You’re safe, Leo. It’s me.”

            “Mattie.”

Sean Bean in Sharpe’s Honour

Merry Whump of May - Day 7

“Write what you know.”

Box

Magic

Cell

(BBC Merlin)

@themerrywhumpofmay

“If- no, when, we get out of here, I’m going to write a book about what an idiot you are.”

Merlin sighed and rested his head against the wooden bars. “Well, write what you know, I suppose.”

“How could you think stopping to ask for directions could ever be a good idea? I knew where we were going.”

“We were lost and they looked friendly enough.” Merlin turned away from the bars and looked down at Arthur. “Look, how long are you going to complain? Maybe we should try figuring out how to get out here?”

“You figure out how to get us out.” Arthur drawled from his spot on the floor. He was lounging on the one and only pile of damp hay in the cell. The bruises from the attack were still fresh and swollen across his cheek and eye. “I’ll continue to complain, thank you very much.”

Merlin gently rubbed the bump on the back of his head. He looked around the cell for what felt like the hundredth time. They had been taken to a sort of cave lair, a wooden holding cell built into the rock wall. It was sturdy. And they had a guard at all times. 

Merlin licked his dry lips. 

He couldn’t use magic. Arthur was here. 

They were stuck, for now. 

Why had they been captured anyway? Maybe they planned to ransom the prince? Merlin puzzled over it until his head began to throb again. He sat down and closed his eyes. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve given up.”

“I haven’t.” Merlin murmured and leaned his forehead against the lattice of wooden bars. “I’m thinking.”

Arthur barked out a laugh. “Good luck with that.”

Merlin frowned and made himself bite back several rude remarks. 

It was at that moment that a few more bandits, or whatever they were, appeared in the chamber and opened the cell door.

“Oh thank goodness, you’ve come to your senses-” Arthur got up from the floor.

“Stay where you are.” The woman who had opened the door, green eyes blazing in the torchlight, pointed at Arthur.

Then she pointed to Merlin. “You. Come.”

“Me?” Merlin swallowed hard.

“Now.” She ordered.

Arthur took a step forward. “Look, he’s just a servant-”

Another of the bandits pointed a crossbow at Prince Arthur through the cell bars.

Arthur stopped, hands raised. 

Merlin picked himself off the rough stone floor. His head throbbed. The woman then grabbed him by the collar and dragged him out of the cell. Merlin threw one last look at Arthur before he disappeared around the corner, deeper into the cave tunnel.

Merlin was taken to a smaller, darker chamber. The walls were wet and moss was growing there. He was forced onto a chair in the middle of the room. 

“My name is Deryn.” The green-eyed woman spoke while the others tied Merlin to the chair. “That’s all you need to know about me. As for my companions, ignore them. You will speak only to me; whether answering my questions or begging for mercy. Do you understand?”

Merlin swallowed hard. The ropes binding him to the chair were rough and were painfully tight. His heart was racing. What did they want with him?

“Do you understand?” Deryn repeated.

“Yes.” Merlin rasped. His head throbbed in time with his heartbeat.

“Good.”

One of the bandits handed a large, flat wooden box to Deryn. The wood was dark and cracked with age and carved with strange symbols. Merlin tried to make them out in the flickering torchlight. But they swam and danced before his eyes. 

Deryn walked forward and set the box on Merlin’s lap.

“Here.” She said, “Hold this for me.”

Merlin, arms bound behind him, could not help but watch as she lifted the lid off, wood scraping, and revealed an enormous, golden collar. It was wide and flat, resembling a darkly glimmering crescent moon. There were fastenings at the two tips. It was old. Very old. Merlin could sense it. 

Merlin licked his dry lips and looked back up at Deryn. “What do you want, Deryn?” He asked. 

She did not answer.

Deryn picked up the collar by the two ends, leaned forward, and fastened it around Merlin’s neck. It was heavy and cold against his skin. Deryn set the box aside. 

“This is a very ancient treasure.” Deryn circled around Merlin and ran a finger over the minute carvings on the collar. “It was found a long time ago and was passed down through my family. It’s been called a blessing. And a bane. Let me show you how it works.”

Deryn brushed a curl of her dark hair back, took out a bone-handled knife, and plunged it into Merlin’s gut.

Merlin opened his mouth to scream, to breathe, to cry. But he could not draw breath. The pain was a fire in his stomach. It blazed through him. He shuddered and realized he’d closed his eyes, tears leaking over his cheeks. 

He opened his eyes to see Deryn again. She pulled the knife out.

Agony again. Merlin began to wail, low and keening, each breath he took to cry out was misery. 

A wound to the stomach was a death sentence. No one could fix that kind of injury. Not even Gaius. Why had she decided to kill him? Panting and curled over his wound, Merlin watched Deryn wipe off her knife.

“It is a very powerful treasure. One that I’ve had to protect my whole life.” Deryn said. “It should reveal its purpose now.”

And just as she spoke, Merlin felt the pain intensify. He choked.

Every nerve around his wound began to blaze even more. He was dying. He had to be. How could he endure this? 

Restrained by the chair, Merlin began to tremble and shake, screaming and screaming and screaming. The collar was killing him. 

Hours passed. Or many minutes. Merlin could not tell. Sweat poured down his face, mixing with tears. 

Eventually, he noticed that Deryn had approached him again and lifted his shirt. Merlin caught sight of his stomach. No, it couldn’t be.

The wound was gone. There was blood. And a thin, pale scar. But no gaping knife wound. Nothing.

“It heals.” Deryn let Merlin’s shirt drop back down. “Painfully. So,” Deryn brought a chair over and sat down in front of Merlin. “I’m going to ask you some questions. If you refuse.” Deryn held up the knife. “You know what to expect. No surprises.”

Merlin felt the blood leave his face. He threw up all over his lap.

“Let’s get started.”

Sometime later, Merlin found himself being dragged, arms supported and legs limp. Then he was dropped. Someone was calling his name. Every inch of him throbbed, raw with remembered pain.

Merlin felt himself being turned over and he cracked his eyes open. 

He found Arthur above him and a rough hand touching his cheek. There was something soft beneath his head. 

“Can you hear me? Are you alright?” Arthur’s voice was far away. “Where are you hurt?”

Merlin could not help but attempt a smile. 

He wasn’t hurt anywhere. It was all healed. But he still shivered and ached. And it still felt like he had the collar on. He could feel its phantom weight around his neck, cold and heavy. 

“Fine.” He managed to rasp in answer to Arthur’s questions. Merlin closed his eyes again. He was so tired. “Not… hurt.” He sighed.

“How am I supposed to believe that when you’re covered in blood?”

“Magic?”

Merlin heard a soft laugh above him and felt a cool hand push his sweaty hair back from his forehead. He drifted. 

Merlin awoke to yelling. And pain. 

His eyes snapped open. 

Arthur was being held back by two of the bandits. 

And Deryn was there, standing over Merlin. “Come along.” She ordered. 

Swaying and still half-asleep, Merlin struggled to his feet and followed her.

The moss-covered cave room. The box. The collar.

It began again. 

But Merlin was ready. 

Last time, he didn’t know what to expect. But now he did. No surprises. 

As soon as Deryn fastened the golden, crescent-shaped collar about his neck, Merlin kicked out with every ounce of magic he had. 

He burned his bonds away. He threw Deryn across the room and heard her spine snap. Then Merlin ran. He knew the way. Falling, half-conscious, he ran to Arthur. 

Merlin raised his hands and ripped and tore the wooden cell to pieces. Wood splinters flew. Dust hung in the air. Shouting. Crossbow bolts flew. 

“Arthur!” Merlin roared. 

Merlin looked at one of the bandits and they burst into fire and sparks. Screams. 

They ran. Out of the cave. And into the cold night.

Merlin didn’t realize that they had stopped until he found himself in Arthur’s arms. 

“Don’t worry, we’ll get you to Gaius. He- he’ll fix you up, I promise.”

Arthur was laying him down on the cold, wet ground. In the light of a weak dawn, Merlin could see two crossbow bolts sticking out his chest. How had he not noticed?

Arthur’s hands moved to Merlin’s neck, around back, to take off the collar.

No. 

Merlin flung his hand out and pushed Arthur away. “Don’t.” He gasped. 

The collar was the only thing keeping him alive.

“Take out the bolts.” Merlin begged. “Not this.” He touched the gold collar. 

“I don’t understand.” Arthur’s eyes were wide. And frightened. 

“It’s magic.” Merlin’s thoughts were too fuzzy to properly explain. “It heals wounds. Take the bolts out. Let it heal me.”

Arthur moved forward, grimacing. “Right now?”

Merlin huffed out a laugh. “Should I schedule a better time for you?”

At that, Arthur gave him a watery smile. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Merlin took Arthur’s hand and guided it to one of the bolts. “Let’s get started.”

The Greatest Showman (2017)

Merry Whump of May - Day 3

(Mystery Men - 1999)

@themerrywhumpofmay

Roy ducked into the bathroom, flung on the cold tap and splashed water on his face. It stung. Lukewarm and stale. Blood dripped into the grimy porcelain sink. Roy drank from the faucet and spat out pink water. He caught sight of his reflection in the smudged mirror. The lightbulb above flickered and blinked. He touched his cheek and winced. 

That would be a black eye tomorrow. 

The lightbulb flickered out and the bathroom went dark. 

“Ah, man.” Roy sighed, reached up, and unscrewed the dead bulb.

Bulb in hand, he pushed back out into the bar.

“Come on, Roy, chip in.” Eddie said as he counted cash out on the bar. Jeff was adding coins to the mix. The bartender was standing behind the bar, looming over them, arms crossed.

“What’s all this?” Roy slipped the dead bulb in his jacket pocket. He would tell the bartender about it in a minute.

Jeff looked back, nose crusted in blood. “We are paying the gentlemen for the damages done to his establishment in the scuffle.”

They happened to be walking by half an hour ago when they heard screaming coming from the bar. Turned out that five or so guys were robbing the place. Of course they had to step in. And it had gone the way it usually did. Badly.

But that’s what superheroes did. They tried. 

“Damages?” Roy sidled up and stuffed his hands into his jeans pocket for his wallet. “What damages? We got the guys, didn’t we?”

“Well…” Eddie started and trailed off as the bartender strode around the bar.

“Broken window?” The bartender pointed to one of the large front windows, shattered glass lying all around on the floor.

Roy frowned. He was tired, and dizzy, and sat down on a barstool. “When did that even happen?” 

“Two of them threw you through it, Roy.” Eddie supplied.

Roy nodded, then stopped, because his head hurt too much for that much movement. “Right, right.”

“Tables and chairs.” The bartender continued. HIs shouting was painfully loud. 

A table or two leaned on broken legs and a few chairs lay in pieces. 

Roy did remember falling into those. So did his back and ribs.

“And the upholstery!” The bartender pointed at one of the booths, the red leather pierced with several forks.

“That was him.” Roy pointed at Jeff. “He’s the fork guy.” “Thanks, Roy.” Jeff rolled his eyes and shoved his change across the bar. “Pay up already.”

Roy opened his sad, deflated wallet and pulled out his last few ones. “All I got.” And slapped it on the bar. “I’m going.”

And now he had no more money until payday. Great. Just great. He moved towards the door to the outside, limping a little. His knee was swollen and stiff.

The bartender blocked his path. “Uh-uh, oh no, look at this place. That isn’t nearly enough!”

Roy stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets, one hand found the dead lightbulb. His fingers wrapped around it as the bartender continued to shout.

Roy nodded a little. “I understand. I can come back tomorrow and help clean-”

He was cut off. The bartender continued to point out every bit of damage, a finger jabbed into Roy’s sore shoulder.

Roy lowered his eyes. He grit his teeth. Breathe in. His head pounded. Breathe out. His heart raced. Felt the blood leave his face. He balled his hands into fists. Pushed past the guy.

Stumbled into the alleyway. Trying to breathe. Trying to stay standing.

Rouy staggered as far as he could go and leaned against the cool, brick wall.

Finally his ears stopped ringing. Someone was talking to him. 

Roy looked up. 

“Roy, you okay?”

Eddie and Jeff stood there, Eddie’s hand on his shoulder.

“We did break quite a lot of things, but he was quite unpleasant to you, Roy. Don’t let it get to you.” Jeff was trying to scratch away the blood from his nose.

Roy just focused on breathing.

“You’re not looking so hot.” Eddie sighed. “Are you hurt?”

“A bit.” Roy panted. “Maybe. Not really. No. I’m fine. I just- You know. Yelling. I’m fine. I think I’m gonna go-” He took his hands out of his jacket pockets.

“Jesus, Roy!” Eddie exclaimed. “Oh boy, do we need to get something on that. Jeff, you got any gauze left?”

“What’s wrong?” Roy blinked slowly.

Jeff did a double-take. “Oh my lord. I’m going to be-” He retched a little. “How did you do that?”

“What?” Roy was getting annoyed now.

“Your hand.” Eddie gripped his wrist. “Don’t touch anything.”

Roy looked down at his hand.

The lightbulb.

He had gripped it so hard that it burst. Exploding into his palm and fingers. His whole right hand was covered in blood and glass splinters. Funny. He couldn’t even feel it. 

Blood pattered down onto the gravel of the alleyway. “Hospital.” Eddie ordered.

“Hospital.” Jeff gagged. 

“Ah, man.” Roy fainted.