#summerofwhump9

[blogger360ncislarules]

‘Oh crap! Are you okay?!’

‘You broke my glasses. YOU BROKE MY GLASSES?!’ Then she lunged at him like a feral cat.

@summer-of-whump

#summerofwhump #summerofwhump9 #ncis la #my work #langer #ncis la drabble

[sideblogformindtrash]

SUMMER OF WHUMP - DAY 9 - ANIMALS

Orfeu and his weird problem

@summer-of-whump

Tagging: @whumpropaganda, @whumpzone, @cupcakes-and-pain, @tears-and-lilies, @lightdrinker, @lave-whump, @freefallingup13, @temporary-whump-sideblog, @pinkraindropsfell, @as-a-matter-of-whump

Cw: Pet whump; low self-esteem; depression; loneliness; fear of abandonment; animals; animal death; 

Animals had hated him his entire life. 

It was concerning when, for his whole life, he had heard people saying that when an animal liked someone, it meant they were a good person. If that went both ways… It could only mean he was a demon.

Ever since he was a child, he remembered seeing the dogs around the congregation barking and running away as he approached. The birds Father Benedict had would chirp insanely in his small office, a few of them dying from stress, until he decided to move them into his private room. The stray cats… Well, some hissed to everyone, but others were sweet to others, and all claws and teeth for him. Even reptiles, whom he thought might like him - after all, they too, were signs of the devil - would run and hide from him.

...It broke his heart every time. Was also the reason he was kicked out of one or two of his homes as a teenager. And as an adult…

Hell, he had surfed through a lot of ‘How not to feel lonely’ blog posts. They all resumed to quite a few similar things, and when you didn’t have any solid relationship with anybody… The pet seemed like a better option. At least then, the silence wouldn’t be so deafening, crushing his heart day by day.

Of course… There was always the suggestion to get a ‘Pet’. But that had always sickened him. He had to admit Blue and Haru changed things a lot, but they weren’t fucking animals, no matter what society told about them, but they were company. A lot less silence to deal with. He loved them dearly. And he thought… that despite having that same fear animals had… they had learned to love him, too. 

And after they were comfortable, they started to bring the topic of animals up, too. Especially Haru, it seemed like a passion to him. He would constantly bring birds into the house to nurse them back to health, keeping them hidden from Orfeu. 

Of course, they’d feel his presence, and panic. More than a dozen had died from that. And Orfeu didn’t have the heart to tell Haru to just… stop.

And it all culminated one day, as he returned home from groceries. He put the bags on the table, and crouched on the floor. It had been a while since he came home to a scene like that: Haru and Blue, perfectly lined up, kneeling, foreheads on the floor, hands reaching forward to be offered for punishment. 

“Haru, Blue, babies…” He tries to sound as soothing as possible  “...What happened?”

...Haru moves slightly, barely staring at him, flushing eyelashes. He  handed him a little note.

Master please, please, please. We both love you so much and we are so very grateful. Your *unreadable* dumb slaves hope they aren’t asking for too much. Please, please, let your slaves have a pet. Please? May we have a dog? We promise we will take care of it. We will share our food and keep it clean and good and it will not cause any trouble. Please? Please? Please?

...He rubbed his face, sighing. He hated to say no to them. He hated that Haru had returned to calling himself ‘a slave’. He hoped it was just because they had been trying this for a while, and failing.

“...Boys” ...And then he heard a bark coming from upstairs. Both of them flinched to the sound, slowly turning to look at eachother. Blue swallowed a knot on his throat “You already got the dog”

“S-sorry…” Blue whimpered, curling up even further on himself “M-mas-master we… We… it was on the trail! S-s-sorry! It just, was, a-a-alone and we- we didn’t mean to disrespect you, please w-we…”

Haru too started to panic, softly whimpering, hands trembling slightly. Alright, ear scratched for Blue, head pats for Haru, those always seemed to help. Haru bumped against his hand, blinking through tear-filled eyes.

“It’s okay. I understand. I’m not mad. I’m not, really” Haru at least, seemed to ease up a little, while Blue remained on edge “But the dog has to go”

...A unisound whine was heard, Haru shaking his head, with big, pleading eyes, Blue raising to his knees and hugging Bonnie, curling away from Orfeu and the ear scratch.

“B-b-b--but Master… It… It has no, no home…Nowhere to go! It was… was hungry… We… we take care of it! Promise!!”

“I… I know you would Blue. But we truly can’t” He sighed, not knowing how to explain it “I don’t… I don’t know what’s wrong with me but… Animals hate me. They always do. They get scared… panic. You guys know that feeling, right? The dog won’t be healthy living around me”

“What if this one doesn’t?” Haru gestures, hands trembling so much is barely understandable. 

Orfeu nodded. He hated to give them false hope, but it would hurt even more not to let them even try.

“...If he doesn’t, then yes, he can stay. But… don’t get your hopes up, please. I have never found an animal that didn’t”

The boys stare at each other, with slight smiles, probably getting their hopes up. Orfeu sits crossing his legs to wait, despite knowing very well how this will go. Blue gets up to bring the puppy from upstairs, while Haru gestures “Thank-you” over and over. 

“I’m sorry Haru. I don’t think this will go well”

“...Thank you for letting us try” ...Orfeu smiles. 

When Blue comes back into the kitchen, it starts to scream, loudly barking, even scratching blue so it can run and hide. The dog runs into the living room, under a cabinet. The boys stare, in shock. They probably didn’t expect it to be this bad.

Orfeu shakes his head, getting back up to pick up a box from the closet.

“...Sorry” He sighs “...I’ll look for a good place for them. I promise, the dog will be safe and have a good home”

...Haru and Blue exchange a look, quietly pulling each other into a hug. He wonders if they think he would ever do the same to them. 

#summerofwhump #summerofwhump9 #pet whump #blue needs a tag #orfeu and haru

[equestrianwritingsstuff]

Summer of Whump #9: Bugs

"Well, well, well," Hero chanted as she landed on the ground next to Villain. Well, not right next to him because he was in the mud. Villain very rudely did not reply. He was too absorbed in his job.

Hero wouldn't exactly call it a job, more like fixing a mistake.

Villain was driving his four-wheeler through the woods like he did every Saturday night. He always did it in the night, when it was dark, with his headlights on. But, this time, his headlights blew out and he spun into a mud pit.

He finally just got himself out from under the four-wheeler as morning came around. Of course, morning brought the lovely chickadee called Hero.

"Hello," Hero grinned, ear to ear with a sparkle in her eyes.

"Go away," Villain grumbled, but his voice had a strange sharpness to it that made Hero momentarily rethink her decision on coming to visit.

Would you even call it a visit when Villain doesn't even live in this mud pit? I mean, who lives in an ex-river, Hero wondered to herself, contemplating whether or not she should've skipped high school...

"Ugh!" Villain exclaimed, "Almost got it. These darn mosquitoes!" He yelled and smacked his neck. Hero noticed that it was beat red, from either the heat, the amount of times he hit himself, or both. She also noticed strange inflammed bumps on it skin that seem to raditate heat. Villain dipped his head to his shoulder and itched his neck.

The four-wheeler sputtered, bringing Hero's attention away from her nemesis's rather slender neck. It jumped in the mud pit. For the first time, Hero realized that Villain was sunk to his knees and that his muscles were shaking. She tentatively dipped her hand into the mud and left it there waiting. She may not understand the definition of "visit", but she was handy with her survival skills.

After about five minutes, she felt her hand sink. It was a small shift that she would get if her muscles twitched, but a good three inches that nearly threw her forward.

Hero quickly glanced up at Villain to see him half slumped over the four-wheeler. One hand was on the gas and the other was on the rack. He held on so limply that Hero thought he collapsed, but then he pushed the four-wheeler. She examined his muscles for a brief second before remembering her discovery.

"Oh yeah Villain," she said, her voice devoid of any anticipation or nervousness that a normal, smart, person would have in this dire situation. "You are in quicksand."

"I. Don't. Care," Villain growled. Hero doubted that he even stopped to let the words register in his mind.

Hero looked back at his legs to see the mud right under his buttocks. She tensed up.

"Villain leave it, get out," her voice was stern, but Villain paid no attention.

"I'm calling the cops," Hero warned and slowly pulled out her phone. She dialed in a number, but it wasn't the police.

"Gimme a second." Atleast Villain paid attention to Hero's voice, but he didn't heed her advice and kept on trying to shove his beloved ATV out of the mud, or quicksand according to Hero.

"I will buy you a new one."

Villain hesitated. His four-wheeler was barely hanging on already, even before the mud encounter, and the idea of a fancy new Yamaha was tempting. But what if it was a trick? Hero, as dumb as she was, was actually stellar at trickery. And Villain was stellar at being a stubborn bastard.

"Yeah right," he retorted and continued to push his four-wheeler out, only to find that he couldn't move. Actually... Villain looked over at the bank. It was lower than last time he looked at it...

"Crap!" He exclaimed, just as another lovely mosquito bit his neck. Ugh, these biters were a menace. Villain growled and tried to lift his left leg up, but it was stuck.

"Hero?" His voice was laced with fear. He put a hand on his hair and started to pull, an obvious sign of stress.

"Villain calm down. Listen it's okay. I called Sidekick. He will help get you out," Hero walked as close as she could without falling into the quicksand.

Another mosquito landed on Villain as he slowly began to sink even further into the ground.

"Hmm," he groaned and pushed away from his four-wheeler. Only, he fell backwards landing with a small splash.

"Villain!" Hero yelled and tried to reach him, but the quicksand was already doing its work. It filled into his mouth and ears as he tried, and failed, to sit back up.

Panic created bile that rose up Villain throat. Or was it the mud seeping down into his lungs and stomach? He didn't know, didn't care. He just wished he was gifted with super-strength, not the apparent ability to get stuck in quicksand.

Villain thrashed and turned, but the thick mud made it nearly impossible to even just turn his head. Finally, after one heavy push, he was able to get upwards.

"H-h.. h," Villain couldn't get the words out. He couldn't breathe and the itch on his neck waa getting overwhelming. Blacks spots clouded his vision as he struggled to draw a breath. The dizziness made him sway as the image of Hero's lithe body wavered in front of him.

"Engh," Villain coughed, but it did little to dispel the mud. He gulped before he toppled forwards again.

But this time, strong arms caught him. Villain cracked his eyes open to see Sidekick's chin.

"Come on you," Sidekick muttered. "Waking me up from my beauty rest." With one strong pull, Sidekick lifted Villain out of the quicksand and landed him next to Hero. Perfect guy gifted with my coveted superstrength, Villain thought as his mind drifted away from consciousness.

Hero's fingers brought him back around. Her fingers opened his mouth and pulled out the mud that was caught inside his throat.

"He-he," Villain sputtered, his voice weak and shaky.

"Quiet, cough for me. Will you?" She rolled Villain to his side and gently tapped his back until he gave in and cough up some mud and blood. He then sunk deep into Hero's outstretched arms with a sigh and closed his eyes.

Hero's fingers ran over the bumps on Villain's skin. His eyes fluttered open as pain illuminated in them. He shot Hero a glare.

"Sorry," she whispered and went back to holding him tightly and rubbing small circles on his over exerted muscles.

Atleast I can him feel better, Hero thought to herself as Villain's breaths slowed into a peaceful slumber.

@summer-of-whump

#summer of whump #quicksand #villain whumpee #hero caretaker #writing #fourwheeler #bugs #summerofwhump9

[getyourwhumphere]

Summer of Whump: Day 9-Animals

An animal.

That was what Whumpee had been reduced to.

They were on their knees with all the other unfortunate people who had been reduced to animals, waiting to be bought by sadistic assholes.

They felt as if they were about to cry. No, they couldn't. Nobody liked it when pets cried out of nowhere.

They weren't a pet.

No matter what, they had to remember that. They couldn't give in.

#summerofwhump #whump #whumpee #pet whump #whump writing #swearing #summerofwhump9

[little-ligi]

Summer of Whump - No.9

No.9 - Animal Fandom - BBC Merlin Wordcount - 1475 @summer-of-whump

This prompt, just happening to land on @mercelotweek angst day, cried out for a Mercelot fic, so I am squeezing in a cheeky second submission 😉

The sword shattered against the giant winged creature’s side, splintering into fragments that fell to the forest floor. The beast’s head whipped down and it screeched at the man attacking it, its piercing raptor eyes focussed sharply on him as it stretched its wings. The man dropped the now useless hilt of his sword, turning and sprinting away, towards Merlin, as the creature reared.

“Run! Run!”

Merlin scrabbled to his feet, almost tripping on the loose leaf-strewn ground. The man caught Merlin’s arm, his hand warm and strong where it wrapped around his bicep. He pulled Merlin up to his feet and dragged him along with him as he ran towards the cover of the trees ahead of them. Horrible shrieks followed them, along with the pounding of heavy feet, getting closer and closer.

It was so close to them that Merlin felt the rush of air on his back as it swiped its taloned paw after them, just missing him by inches. The other man stumbled slightly, his hand falling from Merlin’s arm, but he kept running. Merlin, with his longer legs was now half a stride ahead of the other man as they ran the last few yards towards a fallen tree, and he could hear the other man panting. Merlin looked back briefly, then wished he hadn’t. The creature was gaining on them.

Continue reading on Ao3, fanfiction.net or below! 👇

Launching himself over the fallen tree, Merlin felt the man’s hand on his shoulder again, before it gripped tight into his shirt. Together they leapt up and over the large trunk. The hand in his shirt pulled him down the other side, and they ducked against the tree, out of the creature’s sight.

It screeched again as it soared over the log, its wings flapping. It flew over them – either not seeing them, or just deciding they weren’t worth it – and soared up into the sky with a few beats of its powerful wings. Merlin craned his neck to follow its flight, to make sure it wasn’t turning around for an attack from a different angle.

When it appeared it wasn’t, he sank back against the tree trunk.

“It’s gone,” he panted, slightly disbelievingly. He looked over at the other man, his gaze flickering over the stunningly handsome face and the low, loosely-laced shirt on the man’s heaving chest. He was a very attractive man. And incredibly brave too. “You saved my life,” slipped from his mouth as he gazed at his rescuer.

The man turned to him, his dark brown eyes scanning Merlin quickly, as if he was checking him for injuries, before flicking up to meet his eyes.

“I’m Merlin.” He held his hand out, and the man reached to grasp it firmly.

“Lancelot,” he supplied. Then his hand slid out of Merlin’s and his head lolled back against the tree trunk behind them. He let out a groan and his eyes rolled and closed.

Concern soared through Merlin’s chest. He leant closer to Lancelot. Lancelot’s other hand fell from his side, revealing a large, rapidly growing bloodstain on his pale blue shirt.

“Oh no…” Scrabbling up onto his knees, Merlin leant over Lancelot, gently tapping his face.

He just groaned, his eyelids fluttering but not opening. Merlin gently slid his fingers underneath the sword belt around Lancelot’s waist, his fingers plucking the leather out of the buckle and unfastening it. He rolled the hem of his shirt up to see the wound. It wasn’t quite as bad as Merlin had feared; a relatively shallow slash just under his ribs. But the edges of the wound looked a little grimy and raw. The creature’s talons clearly weren’t the cleanest.

Wishing he had a waterskin with him to at least try and clean the wound, he carefully brushed away a few grains of dirt from the skin around it. He tried not to notice how tanned and soft Lancelot’s skin was, instead focussing on finding a way to stop the bleeding. If only he’d put his neckerchief on this morning, he’d have a useful makeshift bandage.

Then he remembered his mushroom collecting basket; there was a small cloth in there. He’d dropped it when the horrible creature had attacked him, he could quickly run and fetch it. He was loathe to leave Lancelot alone, even for a minute, but it was either that or take his own shirt off to use and he didn’t think that would be quite the best option.

Scanning the surrounding trees, and the sky, quickly to be sure the beast was nowhere in sight, he pulled himself up to his feet with the fallen log. He climbed over it and ran as fast as could to where his basket was tipped on its side, round little mushrooms strewn out the top. He paused to scoop as many as he could back into the basket – he didn’t fancy having to come out here again if he didn’t fetch enough for Gaius. Almost tripping over on his own feet again, he sprinted back to the fallen tree, Lancelot still slumped against the side of it exactly where he had left him.

Unceremoniously, he dumped the basket, fishing the cloth out of it. He gave it a good shake, and folded it into a careful square.

“I’m sorry, this will probably hurt,” he said. Just because Lancelot was unconscious didn’t mean Merlin wouldn’t talk to him.

He lifted the light shirt again, chewing his lip, then placed the folded cloth onto the wound and pressed firmly. He wasn’t sure how hard to press, he knew pressure was good, but he didn’t want to cause any extra pain. He really needed to pay a bit more attention to Gaius when he was trying to teach him things.

His fingers flexed over the wad of cloth. His thumb brushing just beside it. It took a lot of self control to not let his hand run over the enticing plane of Lancelot’s stomach. His chest was rising and falling heavily, his breathing a little laboured and Merlin frowned.

“Lancelot? Lancelot can you hear me? Can you wake up?” he tried, the hand that was not keeping pressure on the wound lifting to tap Lancelot’s face, his fingertips resting just a little longer than necessary on his lightly stubbled jaw.

Lancelot groaned again, but showed no other indication that he might wake up.

What really bothered Merlin though, was the heat he could feel in Lancelot’s cheeks. He laid his palm on his forehead, flinching back at the heat of it. Was it normal for a fever to set in so soon after an injury? Maybe the beast’s talons were poisoned? Perhaps it was just the pain and shock.

Either way, Merlin wasn’t happy about it. He’d feel much better if Gaius could see Lancelot. He made up his mind; Lancelot was coming back to Camelot with him. There was no way Merlin wasn’t going to repay him for saving his life.

He peeked under the improvised bandage, relieved to see the bleeding had stopped. After dabbing at it once more, he took the cloth away and unfolded it, refolding it so there was a relatively unbloodied patch. Putting it over the injury, he held it in place while he pulled Lancelot’s shirt down to cover it, then very gently wound his belt back around him, using it to secure the bandage and keep it where it should be.

“There,” he said, patting Lancelot’s chest reassuringly. “We’ll get you to Gaius and he’ll fix you up.”

Another groan and Lancelot’s eyelids flickered, revealing just a tiny slither of deepest brown irises that slid towards Merlin.

“Thank… you,” he murmured, the words barely forming more then a breath, a wince etched into his face.

“You’re welcome. It’s alright,” Merlin soothed, patting his shoulder and trying to catch eye contact before Lancelot’s eyes slid closed.

But Lancelot drooped again, his chin falling to his chest, his dark hair flopping on his forehead. Merlin tenderly pushed it back, catching himself before he started running his hands through the lovely waves of dark hair.

“Right, let’s get you back then.”

He undid his own belt, looping the handles of his mushroom basket over the belt before refastening it, the basket now bumping against his hip. Then stood up, chewing his lip as he surveyed Lancelot. He wasn’t strong enough to lift him… he’d have to use magic to carry him, and just hope he stayed unconscious and wouldn’t see it.

He hooked his hands under Lancelot’s arms and pulled him up, muttering a spell as his lifted him onto his shoulder. Settling his magically reduced weight across his back, he started back in the direction of Camelot.

What exactly was Gaius going to say, he wondered? He’d sent Merlin out to collect mushrooms and here he was coming back with an injured new friend.

#summerofwhump #summerofwhump9 #bbc merlin fanfiction #lancelot whump #ligi writes #protective lancelot #caring merlin #mercelot #minimercelotweek2021 #yep i'm sneaking in another one #look who is up posting fics at stupid time of the night again #or morning it should say #3.30am #wheeeee #great way to start my birthday

[cyhyr]

Summer of Whump Day 9: Animals

Fandom: Naruto

Rating: T

Pairing: Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka

WC: ~780

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Notes: Mistaken identity, dog bites.

A/N: Hey look it’s another cute one. I love me some angsty fluff :)

~

Iruka keeps his head down as he walks through the streets of Konoha. Most of the civilians he passes don’t give him a second glance, some are more chakra-sensitive and at least give him a double-take. Other shinobi, however, glare and stare and watch him as he makes his way home; like he’s not supposed to be here, an outsider in a mask.

He feels like he’s wearing a mask. One he can’t take off. 

The jutsu he was hit with makes him seem like he’s in a basic henge to everyone. He looks the same, but every other identifying marker about him has changed. Scent, chakra signature, even his fingerprints are different.

The worst part is the change in chakra. He has to bully his way through his own wards, grumbling the whole time. Why did he make them so complicated in the first place, he thinks. Once the wards are down, he turns the key in his lock and pushes the door open.

At first glance, he’s elated to see Kakashi relaxing on his couch, his pack of ninken lounging around the living room. They weren’t living together (yet) but he’d keyed his chakra to the wards weeks ago and given him the spare key. Iruka is happy to share his space with Kakashi.

He says, “I’m home—”

And then the ninken are upon him. Uhei and Akino have his left side while Guruko and Shiba are on his right. Their teeth are sharp, cutting through his clothes and ripping into the skin of his calves and wrists. Bull is rumbling in front of him, hackles raised, and Urushi is stalking around to his back and growling.

Bisuke and Pakkun stayed back beside Kakashi, who is no longer on the couch. 

Everyone’s on edge. 

“Who the hell are you,” Kakashi asks. He exposes the sharingan and Iruka’s stomach drops. The cacophony of growling ninken around him is too much on top of everything else he’s gone through today.

“Guruko-san, please ease up on my hand,” he mutters instead of answering, “I’ll need it for Academy work later.”

Bull’s rumble deepens.

“As if we’d let you anywhere near the village pups,” Urushi snaps from behind him. 

“Talk,” Kakashi growls. “Where’s Iruka?”

“I’m—y’know, I can’t believe I didn’t expect this,” Iruka laughs, trying not to cry. “You always said the ninken wouldn’t bite me unless I became a threat to you or the village, but all I’ve done was take a bad jutsu on that mission.”

Kakashi doesn’t seem convinced; but he looks like he’s willing to listen. He stands still, hands in his pockets, and waits.

Iruka sighs. “I was the target of a jutsu which seemed to change all identifying marks about me, including both my scent and chakra signature. Tsunade believes it’s temporary and will fade in a day or so.” 

Kakashi hums like he wants to believe it. “Likely story,” he says instead. “Tell me something I’ve only ever told you.”

Without hesitation, Iruka replies, “If I’d never asked you out, you were going to wait until you were thirty and then ask Gai if he’d entertain a platonic marriage.” He is confident that Kakashi wouldn't have told anyone else about that.

Indeed, Kakashi flinches back. “Get off of him,” he orders, and the ninken drop away quickly. Guruko licks at where his teeth had punctured Iruka’s hand.

“Is it really you, Sensei?” Bisuke asks, wagging his tail slowly, his ears tipped back.

Iruka kneels down and offers his hand for pets. "It is,” he says, and Bisuke takes no time in pushing his head under Iruka’s palm. “I know my scent and chakra are different, but it’s me. Tsunade has a team working on a solution, in case it doesn’t fade like she thinks it will.”

Kakashi steps over to him and helps him stand up. “In the meantime,” he mutters, “let me help you with the dog bites. I…”

“Kakashi, it’s okay. I understand.” He leans into Kakashi and smiles as the man pushes his face into Iruka’s neck and breathes. 

“I don’t like it. You smell wrong. You feel wrong.”

Iruka pushes Kakashi up and out of his neck. “Let’s go clean up,” he smiles softly. “Do you have any clothes here?”

“Yes?”

“If I wear something of yours, do you think it’ll help?”

Kakashi groans, wraps his arms around Iruka’s waist and tugs him close. “Not in the way you think it will.”

The ninken bark and howl and yip and laugh at them, still crowding around their feet. “We’ll leave you to it, Kakashi,” Pakkun says, and then they all poof back to their homeland.

Once they’re alone, Kakashi crowds him into the shower. Iruka laughs. 

#summerofwhump #summerofwhump9 #animals #fanfic #umino iruka #hatake kakashi #kakairu #my writing

[wh-wh-whu]

Summer of Whump 9 - Animals

You know, my family has a pit bull and she does this blanket thing, we have no idea of what it means but it’s super cute.

CW: implied past dog abuse

———

Whumpee had no choice but to press themself against the wall as the dog approached. Caretaker had mentioned something about rescue dogs, but they hadn't said - or maybe they had, but Whumpee hadn't properly paid attention, being so confused and scared as they had been - that they had a dog living there, inside the house.

It was a pit bull. Big, imposing. Whumpee wasn't particularly afraid of dogs, but they were aware that they could hurt them if they didn't like them, and what reason did a dog they just met have to like them? And you couldn't beg an animal to let you go.

Whumpee swallowed. The dog sniffed the air close to them, then started sniffing their leg. Its nose was cold. Its tail started... wagging? It barked once, making Whumpee cower again. But that was it. It didn't growl, didn't attack, didn't bite.

When Whumpee looked back at it, it was sitting, looking up at them with its big, dark eyes.

"H-hey..." Whumpee tried. The dog's tail started wagging again at the attention.

It stood up and ran away, coming back again carrying a folded blanket. It left it at Whumpee's feet and looked up at them.

"For me?" Whumpee asked, surprised. The dog kept looking at them. "Thank you."

Slowly, very slowly, and always watching the dog for its reaction, they crouched down and took the blanket.

Looking closer now, they could see the scar on the dog's face. Of course. Rescue dogs. A hand unconsciously touched the scar on Whumpee's own cheek.

The dog approached and licked Whumpee's free hand. They smiled, getting to courage to pet it.

Caretaker would later find the two sitting together, Whumpee mumbling praises as they pet their new friend.

#summerofwhump9 #summerofwhump #whump #recovering whumpee #uncategorized writings

[uniasus]

Dogs & Ruins

Doing a double hitter tonight - this summer of whump story covers days 9 AND 10. It’s also a follow up to Thin Ice, though no need to have read that one.

Read below or on Ao3. (I’d rec the latter, it’s roughly 1.5K)

----

“Shit,” Gwaine said, doing his best to slide to a stop before he hit the wall.  His boots slid in the leaf litter. He turned to head back out but ran into Merlin.

“Oof!” Merlin said as they collided. He fell to the floor, but Gwaine kept his balance. Behind them, the sound of yipping dogs got louder.

“Dead end!" Gwaine said, pulling Merlin to his feet and leading him further into the ruins.

They'd been doing nothing but exploring, taking time away from Camelot. Gwaine didn’t know if Merlin realized, but he’d purposefully led them outside of Camelot’s borders. It felt safer for what he wanted to do, but he’d never imagined stumbling across a pair of bandits. He for sure didn’t expect them to have trained hunting dogs.

Gwaine ran down what he thought was an alley at one point in the past. The old stone buildings here were of various heights, some walls intact, others crumbling or harvested. Thankfully, the place seemed as maze-like to him as it did the bandits, for they’d not be cut-off or herded while trying to flee. But who cared if the men caught up to him and Merlin, the dogs were faster. And had sharp teeth.

Behind him, Merlin stumbled. He went down with a curse, but before Gwaine could turn around and help him Merlin was on his feet and running after Gwaine again. Left, right, right again. Gwaine hadn’t thought the ruins were this big earlier, and parts of them felt familiar. Just his luck he’d lead them in circles.

“Here!” Gwaine ducked into a building. Two of the walls were tall enough to hide behind while sitting, the other two gone to rubble. He threw himself into the corner, chest heaving. Merlin fell beside him, breathing heavily.

“We need to get out of here,” Merlin gasped.

“You’re telling me. Do you think you can lead us out?”

“Me?” Merlin turned to stare at him.

“Yeah.”

“What makes you think I can when you couldn’t?”

“A hunch.”

In reality, that hunch was the memory of Merlin’s eyes flashing gold in cold river water, both of them trapped under ice.

The barking got closer. Worse, Gwaine could hear the two men talking nearby. They could run for it, or sit here and hope -

“Nice dog,” Merlin said as the beast rounded the corner.

It snarled, slowly stalking into the ruined building. The second dog slunk in too, both of them showing sharp teeth.

“I think they found them!” one of the bandits cried.

Gwaine slowly rose to his feet, hand on his hilt. Trapped in here with two dogs blocking the exit was bad enough. Trapped in here with two dogs and two men would be worse.

“Do you have meat in your bag to toss them, Merlin?”

“No. Why would I? Nice dog. You don’t really want to bite us, do you?” Merlin also slowly stood, hand palm out in front of him toward the hunting dogs.

Gwaine noticed blood on his palm. “You’re bleeding!”

“Just a scrape from when I fell,” Merlin said, not taking his eyes off the dogs. “Easy there. Nice dogs.”

“Good boys,” a new voice said. The two bandits came into view and stood behind the dogs. The shorter one gave Merlin and Gwaine a once-over. He dismissed Merlin fairly quickly, but his eyes lingered on Gwaine's sword and leather gear.

“Hand over the sword,” the taller bandit said. “Still in the sheath, or I’ll whistle for these dogs to attack.”

“Wouldn’t you rather just fall into a nap?”

Everyone turned to look at Gwaine, befuddled. Gwaine only looked back at Merlin, hoping that despite the fact they hadn’t had the conversation Gwaine wanted to yet, Merlin would still catch on that he knew about Merlin’s magic and was okay with the man using it.

“Yeah,” Gwaine said, eyes still locked with Merlin’s blue ones. “A good, golden sleep.” He put up his own hand, matching Merlin’s, and wiggled the fingers.

Merlin blanched. He looked more terrified at the idea that Gwaine knew about his magic than the dogs ready to bite into their legs.

A bandit whistled and the dogs jumped, one to each of them. Gwaine brought his sword out in a flash, swiping at the dog. It shied away, twisting to find another opening. Merlin yelped and the other dog growled, but Gwaine had no time to look. He hated fighting animals and dogs worse of all. They were too low for proper sword swings. To make matters worse, the bandits had trained the dogs to fight with them. The taller bandit rushed him with a short sword and the dog took to nipping at Gwaine's legs. He had to alternate kicks at the dog and unbalanced sword swings at the human, swearing the entire time.

“Merlin! I really do think-”

The human and dog dropped to the ground.

Gwaine stared as he panted for two breaths before looking around. The other dog and bandit also lay on the stone, inches from Merlin. Merlin sat on the ground, hunched over to clutch his bleeding leg.

"Shit." Gwaine dropped to the ground next to Merlin, supplanting Merlin's hands with his own. The blood was warm and still flowing. "Can you heal it?"

"Heal it?" Merlin's voice was high with fear. As much as Gwaine wanted to soothe it, he had to deal with his own rising panic at Merlin's dog bite.

"Yes. Heal it."

"Um, no."

"No?" Gwaine looked up from the wound to Merlin's face. The other man wouldn't meet his eyes, suspiciously focused on digging through his pack.

"No," Merlin repeated.

"Merlin, I'm not upset with you. I want you to use your magic to heal yourself."

Merlin blushed. "I suck at healing spells. I literally can't heal myself."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Move your hands."

Merlin poured water over the teeth marks, the best cleaning he could provide right now, then Gwaine helped him put on an ointment and wrap his leg. It was only as he helped Merlin to his feet to begin limping out of the ruins that Gwaine turned his attention to their would-be killers.

"What'd you do to them?"

"Exactly as you said. Put them to sleep. They'll wake up soon, it doesn't last more than two hours."

"We're not getting far before they wake then."

"We will if we hide their clothes."

"Ah, Merlin. This is why I like you."

They'd talk more seriously about Merlin's magic later, but Merlin already knew the important bits: Gwaine knew and he didn't care.

#fic rec #bbc merlin #merlin emrys #sir gwaine #magic reveal reveal #summerofwhump #summerofwhump9 #summerofwhump10 #animals #trapped #my fanfiction

[sadistgalore]

Summer of Whump: #9- Bugs (Harper and Dark)

@summer-of-whump

Taglist: @tropes-for-my-md-daydreams

Please let me know if you would like to be added or removed from the taglist! (I have that now!)

WC: 713

CW: claustrophobia, bugs, water torture, dehumanization, non con kissing, mind-breaking, physical/verbal/mental abuse

The girl’s muscles cramped as she laid still, her struggle to breathe getting worse. She was cramped, too cramped in her tight cage, terrified as she waited for him to return. The dark cage scared her, just like that small space in the closet and that fucking bastard knew that. But she deserved it. She failed to please him now she must face the punishment.

Punishment? This is torture!

But she couldn’t be bothered to listen to herself. The walls were closing in even as they remained still, and the dark mass surrounding her began to suffocate her. It was too much. Fuck staying still, she needed out.

So she banged on the container as hard as she could, putting all of her anger, pain, and fear into the blows. She ignored her knuckles slowly becoming red with blood, her tears covering her face. She couldn’t, she couldn’t stay here-

A light opened from the top of the cage that halted her movements, and through the little light given, Harper could make out a small box making its way into her confinement.

What’s in there? What is he-

Harper screamed as hundreds of bugs dropped from the container and into the cage and started to crawl all over her. There were so many, and so many different kinds. They went in all different directions, poking into her skin with their legs and brushing up against her with their antennas. Ants, centipedes, beetles, and cicadas were crawling all over her; some even bit her. She desperately tried to wipe them off with her hands, but more came. She screamed and cried, never noticing the dark, cruel laugh of someone outside her prison.

Finally, after god knows how long she was trapped with those bugs, the door to the cage fully opened and Harper was picked up by gloved hands. She was thrown to the floor of a shower, and immediately cold water splashed over her body.

She gasped in surprise and regretted it, throat raw and scratched from the time she had spent screaming. She managed to stay still as the head of the nozzle was directed towards various parts of her body, soaking her clothes but managing to remove all of the bugs. It stopped once all of them were removed.

Harper finally looked up to the unreadable face of her Master, whose dry and clean composure mocked her wet and shivering form.

“What did you learn?” Dark said after a moment of silence.

Harper was still.

What did I learn? I cooked his meal, everything was fine until he put me in this box-

Dark sprayed her again, making her jump out of her thoughts.

“I-” She had to stop and swallow, her throat was lined with abuse. “I do-don’t know wh-what I le-learned, sir.”

“Of course you don’t, you stupid thing,” her tormentor sighed, throwing the nozzle down and making Harper flinch.

“My steak was undercooked. Eating raw food is dangerous, it could have killed me. You’re damn lucky I’m going easy on you for doing something like that.”

“I’m sorr-”

“Shut the fuck up while I’m talking. Raw food is not only dangerous for me to eat, but it can also attract unwanted bugs.”

Oh, that’s what this whole thing was for.

“So, I’ll ask you again. What. Did. You. Learn?”

Now Harper understood. “I learned not to u-undercook the food I prepare for my Master.”

Dark smiled. “Good pet. Up.”

Harper hastily stood up, still feeling the phantom movements of the bugs crawling on her. She gasped as the man quickly grabbed her hips, trapping her against him, before pulling their lips together into a rough kiss. Harper suppressed a shiver as a tongue found its way into her mouth, moving and sucking until she could barely breathe.

He stopped, stared at her broken self, and dropped her hard onto the ground. He stared down at her in disgust, like the kiss they just shared meant nothing.

“Do that again and you’ll beg for the box.”

Dark didn’t see the girl’s head nod in affirmation as he strolled off, and couldn’t see Harper curl up on the ground, sobbing and shivering.

I swear I won’t mess up again. I’ll learn to be good, please. I’ll be good for you.

#summerofwhump #summerofwhump9 #Devil's Playground #whump #whump community #whump blog #whump fic #whump writing #whumpee #whumper #lady whump #lady whumpee #bugs #claustrophobia #dehumanisation tw #non con kissing #mind-breaking #physical abuse #verbal abuse #mental abuse #Harper #Dark

[pleasancies]

First Shot

wordcount : 2k+

content / warnings : futuristic whump, lady whump, defiant whumpee, electrocution, hunted, animal attack, starvation, human experimentation, animal death, graphic depictions of violence, eating live animals, leg injury

I was planning for a simple running off from wild animals story but stuff happens. The story got dark. Tag : @summer-of-whump

***

Previous Chapter

Avis woke up with a shiver. Wind gushes through her hair. Little thorns prickled at her back. She tried to heave herself up, but there's a twinge of pain in her arms that runs deep into her bones. It was dark, but she could smell the rain, hear the sound of leaves rustling and crickets chirping. She needs to get up. Keep moving. This isn't the lab anymore. She has to go back. Avis slowed her breathing. Her finger clawed into the ground. Grass brushing against her palm. With a count of to three, she heaved herself up. Pain flared on her arm. She grimaced. Pushing her body to stand was easier.

Every step was uncertain. Bare feet meets fallen twigs. The sound of it breaking is almost deafening. She felt around. Trees, moss, and stone. Avis was afraid she's going around in circles. But she's free, as baffling as it is. Last thing she remembered was the lab. The oxygen mask. John and Lisette. Fenrir.

Did they left her her because they thought she's dead? The test, whatever it is, was a blank in Avis head. Possible memory wiping technology? Too many question marks. Potential threats to report when she managed to get back to her friends.

"Hello, Miss. How are you feeling?" The voice made her jump. She turned her head, frantically looking where it came for.

"Down here. Look at your feet."

Sure enough, there's an ankle bracelet. Avis did the sensible thing to do, prying at it so it falls off. It was glued to her legs.

The voice speaks again, "This is the test we were preparing you for. Don't worry, the serum will kick in soon and fingers crossed it works. Now, I'd like you to—"

"Go fuck yourself, John." Avis spat. She grabbed a sturdy looking branch. Clenching her jaws, she forced it between her ankles. Avis let out a small yelp, as the twig tears apart the fused flesh and machine. Drops of blood falls along her toes. Still, she kept going without hesitation.

A nasty crackling noise send Avis movements into a halt. Her entire body jerked as electricity pierced her ankles and burned her veins.

"If you tried to break free then I'll zap you again. Got it?"

Avis tried to speak, but her teeth was still chattering from the aftershocks. She could hear Lisette murmuring on the other side. The girl was too far from the mic for anyone to clearly hear.

John went on, "I really don't want to do this. The more we hurt you, the more likely this project fails and you die. But you took things to an extreme."

"I'm a Heretic, I have to do what I have to do," Avis muttered. Her ankle cuff buzzed a noise that might have been an exasperated sigh.

"I urged Professor Clayton to release you without the shock bracelet. I don't want to reinforce your group's indoctrination that we're sadistic tyrants. But I guess he's right. You and your people are beyond saving."

"I don't need a baby-faced intern who looked like he could die if he lift a potato sack to save me."

Lisette's laugh can be overheard from the speaker.

"That goes for you too, Lise. You're complicit in this," John gruntled. "Fair enough, answer me, Miss. How do you feel? Avoid using profanities, please."

"Like I've been electrocuted, dear boy."

"Other than that. Emotions, physical conditions, list everything."

Avis frowned. It would be so easy to flip him off. Why would she answer to some milquetoast intern about how she feels? The boy might never even starve in his life. Her jaw and gums hurt. After the shock, her ankle felt strangely heavy. There's a veiled threat in his words. They injected her with something.

"How do you feel, Heretic?"

Do you even know my name?

She pick herself up, looking at the distance. Now she could see faint outlines of the trees around her. Faint glints of light hidden in branches. A camera? Avis stared at it.

"Hungry."

"Good, good. How about your emotions, and your perception. Compare to what you see and hear when you first wake up to now."

"A-agitated. Pissed. I want to kill you. My left arm hurts. My teeth hurts." Avis stopped, composing her thoughts. The tip of her fingers felt foreign. As if it belonged to someone else. She wondered what Sherman are doing now.

"Miss."

"Sorry. I'm thinking about my friends."

There's that buzz again. She could discern it. General interference and background noise. Keyboards clacking. Pen scratching at paper.

"Why do you think of them?" John's voice sounds so clear. Sickening. Avis could hear his breath. It was slightly shallow. Did this kid has ashtma? The image of him wheezing to death as she slowly crush his windpipes made a tight sensation in her belly.

"Dunno. Can you stop talking? Your voice makes me want to gnaw at my ankle."

"Alright. Answer my question first, Miss. Any significant change in your senses. This could be vision, hearing, smell, anything."

Avis point at the hidden cameras, "One, two, three, four, there might another one over there, but I need to come closer."

She put a hand on her stomach. It's like there's a hole in there. Somehow it reminds her of the well in her parents' house. The twinge on her arm had dissipate, replaced by a dull throb coming from the inside of her gums. There's just so many things she doesn't see or hear before. Hard to keep track. Her thoughts were jumbled, running all over the place. John muttered a curse.

"John, I thought you said there's no need for profanities."

"You're not supposed to hear that. It's the serum."

Avis froze. The buzzing thoughts stopped. Cold panic gripped her chest. The forest she's starting to feel familiar with becomes unrecognizable. As if someone had brought her to a mirror world. The trees and rocks similar, yet still a twisted replica of itself. How could she not notice?

"What did you do to me?"

"It's only temporary, calm down."

She hissed. Avis took a start, crouching on the ground. The cameras are more than blinking lenses. She could see the machines, the holes it's stuck to. She lunged at the closest one. Her thoughts blend into a murky set of instinct and sensation. Lisette shouted in the background. Avis bit at the lenses, and pulled. She bashed it on to the trees. Stray cables flew.

There's still more eyes watching her. A few trees away. She took a step back, lowered her body, and—

An ear-piercing scream echoes throughout the woods. Her vision went dark. Her body convulsed. Avis fell. She grunted as her back collide with ground.

Still pumped with adrenaline, Avis practically jumped from the ground. Her head flinched back before she speaks. "C-coward! Where are you!"

Another shock. Blood leaked from her ankle. Avis curled in on herself. She blinked away her tears.

No, I'm not going to die like this!

Her body wailed in protest as she heaved herself up. They tased her again. And again.

She lay there for a while, afraid to move. Her fingers twitched. Something had grown in the tips of her nails.

"You're allowed to move now," the voice from the bracelet said. It was deeper. Older. "Please stand."

Getting up was a chore. Avis almost flinched as she expects another sting. One of her feet feels heavy. She leaned at a tree, trying not to move so hard. The gnawing feeling at her stomach is stronger now. She was still shaking and her ankle hurts everytime the skin touches the bracelet.

"I'm so sorry for ruining this Professor," John said.

"Don't be sorry. She's still awake. Project Fenrir, would you please tell me about your injuries?"

Avis grimaced, "You burned my ankle."

"How about your hunger?"

She wondered what Professor Clayton looked like. Until now the man only exist as a name John and Lisette talked about. How big is his head? Does it fit into her mouth? Avis shook her head. Disturbing that the serum made those thoughts came so easily to her.

"You didn't see me eating did you?"

"Aside from the camera I guess not."

"Thought so."

Maybe eating the head is unwise. It would satisfy her anger but it might hurt her jaw. Avis hope this professor is fat. More meat to fill her sick.

"I want to eat you, old man."

"We'll feed you. Soon. This is your test. We will send you a moving obstacle. Defeating them will grant you food. The wound in your ankle might hamper your movements, but if you're as skilled as your file suggest, I believe you can survive them. Good luck!"

Avis cursed under her breath. They left her no choice but to obey. She put her finger into her mouth. Her teeth had grown. Sharp edges and bigger fangs. She hoped the change isn't too drastic. Her friends would have a hard time finding her if she looked like a monster. James kids' would be afraid of her and she couldn't be their nanny anymore.

She should keep moving. Whatever that moving obstacle was, it's not going to be pretty.

Despite her limp, it was easier to navigate the forest. She had adjusted through the dark, and the uneven terrain wasn't so rough after you noticed it's patterns. It was an artificial forest. For miles there was no animal or a single fruit growing in the trees. The ground won't be too altered by the vegetation.

James had taught her once about the fake forests. The trees are real and organic, everyone knows that. But what's unsettling was it's history. Years ago, when the seeds of the trees weren't even made. The Empire was given a choice of which artificial plant variety it's going to use for conservation efforts. They chose the ones unable to bear fruit. The official documents said it produce oxygen more than the others. Besides, most of the land animals that can survive without human intervention had gone extinct. But the thing killed nearby wild plants. Soon enough, the main source of food are from corporate farms and their trademarked seeds.

Avis thought about James while she aimlessly walked in the forest. How he might think, working as a forester and having to plant the artificial seeds. She missed him. She missed Sherman, Emmett, Nancy, pretty much everyone. She hoped they made it out of the city.

A howl tore through the forest. The hurried steps making a beeline to Avis location. She heard panting and leaves crunching. It was a pack. Avis crouched, running more with her hands than her feet. She made a turn. The wolves changed their direction.

The animals were more intelligent that it supposed to. It doesn't seem to follow Avis by a trail. Everytime she repositioned herself the wolves follow. Always a straight line to her. It wasn't long until her throbbing ankle made her trip. Avis bit her lip. She shouldn't make a noise. She grabbed at her bracelet, desperately pulling at it so her burns get a chance to breathe. The footsteps grew louder. She clenched her teeth and started to stand.

The ground was spinning under her feet. Avis staggered. She was out of breath. Her stomach is growling.

Left foot, right foot. Come on, move!

Her face meets the forest floor. The hairs in the back of her neck stood up. A growl. Right behind her.

It dragged her by the neck. The other lunged at her face. Avis clawed and kicked. It hits the air. Another touches flesh. She smelled blood. Her throat was dry. She heard a yelp. It pulled her out of panic. Avis crawled as fast she could. They can't make her kill these animals.

One wolf caught her by the hair. They yanked her off the ground. She land head first onto a tree. She slid down, only to be bit by the ribs and feet. Avis flailed her claws into the air. They dropped her.

The smell of blood was too much. It filled her nostril. The emptiness in her middle ached. Avis lost. Her teeth finds flesh. Her ears barely register the dying cry of the two dogs. She chewed. She swallowed. Warmth filled her stomach. Nerves flared in delight.

When Avis came to her senses, there was only her and two carcass.

"Congratulations, Fenrir. You passed your first test with flying colors."

Next Chapter

#whump #whump fic #oc whump #whump series #lady whump #lady whumpee #dead dove do not eat #animal attack #animal death #electrocution #defiant whumpee #starvation #human experimentation #futuristic whump #summer of whump #summerofwhump #summerofwhump9 #leg injury #injury whump

[morgana-greenleaf]

Summer of Whump Day 9: Bugs/Animals

@summer-of-whump

Read on AO3 | Masterlist

He failed, and this is the price he must pay.

They lock him in a metal cage, with a dozen rabid dogs.

The dogs don’t react at first, just growl at him from the other end.

Then they turn on the electric current.

It shorts out his arm, and it falls limp at his side. And it angers the dogs.

He is the only ‘human’ in sight, so of course they go for him.

They bite and tear at his flesh, causing large chunks to fall to the ground, blood dripping from them.

He feels like he should be disgusted, but he stopped being disgusted at death and injury long ago.

He is supposed to fight back, to kill the dogs. Then the punishment will stop. But there is a feeling within him, telling him not to.

These dogs are scared, and hurt, and lashing out at what is in front of them. At what they perceive as a threat.

It feels familiar. A scared dog in an alley he shouldn’t remember. Beaten. A small boy, getting beaten protecting it.

He doesn’t remember what happened next, but…later, much later, he fed the dog.

He must have helped it.

So no, he will not kill these dogs.

The handlers eventually pull him out, for they cannot lose their Asset. They put him in the chair, and the memory is scrubbed away.

But he didn’t kill the dogs.

#summerofwhump #summerofwhump9 #bucky barnes #marvel #animals #bucky barnes whump #whump #my whump ficlets #late.fic #s: bucky barnes whump

[hale-13]

Euarthropoda

By Hale13

For the Summer of Whump Day 9 - Bugs

Peter enjoys visiting Tony out at the lake house - even though his mentor insists on going hiking.

Words: 1924, Chapters: 1/1 (Complete), Language: English

Fandoms: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)

Rating: Gen

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark

TW: Light Discussion of Mental Health

Read on AO3 or below the line break.

“A hike?” Peter asked, his voice dubious and still heavy with sleep. Tony had dragged him out of bed at an ungodly hour to shove a homemade breakfast with all the fixings down his throat before their supposed foray into the ‘great outdoors’.

“A hike,” his mentor confirmed, putting an ungodly amount of ketchup and sriracha on his omelet, making Peter crinkle his nose in disgust. “Eat up! We want to get out there early so we aren’t out in the hottest part of the day.”

“Maybe you haven’t noticed,” Peter pointed out, talking around a mouthful of hash browns with grilled onions – it still blew him away that the Tony Stark he remembered severely burnt or set everything on fire before the Snap but now was perfectly capable of cooking a delicious meal. Wild. “But neither of us is what one might call ‘outdoorsy’,” Peter pointed out, air quotes included, adding another mound of bacon and sausage to his plate when Tony nudged the platter closer.

“Sure we are!” Tony protested. “You spend most of your day outside and I live at a lake house.”

“First of all,” Peter said imperiously, using his fork to point at this mentor and speaking with his mouth full. “Living at a lake house doesn’t mean that you’re suddenly a skilled outdoorsman. It just means that you have money. And second,” Peter continued, speaking louder over Tony’s spluttering, “I spend no time outside at all whatsoever.”

“Lies and slander,” Tony argued. “I’ve seen the logs for your suit so I know just how much you aren’t in your apartment no matter what you tell May.”

Peter threw his arms up in indignation. “Time in the suit does not equate to time spent in the wilderness! It’s climate controlled for fuck’s sake.”

“Language,” Tony admonished with a glance toward the stairs. Morgan had a penchant for creeping around to eavesdrop and had picked up lots of new… vocabulary… that she was all too pleased to teach her multitude of friends at school much to her teacher’s anger, Pepper’s embarrassed rage and Tony’s chagrin. Peter just rolled his eyes – he had super hearing, he would know if Morgan was creeping up on them. “Finish your breakfast.”

“Ugh,” Peter groaned but gave in. He knew a losing battle when he saw one – he was pretty stubborn but, if anyone could beat him out, it was Tony Stark. “Where are we even going?”

“Just around the lake,” Tony answered, spreading Nutella liberally on his toast. “It’s a few miles and I realized I hadn’t shown you the trails yet.”

Peter hummed and looked out the window where the watery light from the early morning sun was cascading over the kitchen and leaving long shadows. It was so much quieter here than the city, the only noise coming from the birds and the gentle lapping of the water from the lake onto the shore. It really was a beautiful place and, despite his verbal protests, Peter actually wasn’t that upset about spending a quiet morning walking around the shore of the lake and relaxing – it had been a rough week of Spider-Manning and he was ready for a break.

“Pete?” Tony asked, pulling him from his musings. “We don’t actually have to go if you really don’t want to. You know that right?”

“I know,” Peter reassured him. “I think I do want to.” Tony gave him a bright smile before grabbing his empty plate to put in the dishwasher.

“Go get changed,” the man said. “I’ll meet you by the dock in a few minutes once I get this put away,” he gestured to the few dirty dishes left on the table, completely empty due to Peter’s voracious metabolism.

“Sure,” Peter agreed. “I’ll do my best not to wake up Mo.”

“Oh God,” Tony groaned. “Please do. We’ll never get out of here if she wakes up.”

Peter laughed, leaving the kitchen to climb up the stairs and enter his room. It was supposed to be a warm day so he pulled on a pair of shorts and a worn out tank top along with a pair of beat up sneakers. Tony was already down by the dock when Peter made his way outside, stretching out his calves, two HydroFlasks sitting in the dirt next to him.

“Ready?” Tony asked, tossing him a bottle which Peter caught easily.

“Yep,” he agreed, stretching his own arms over his head to pop his back and release the tension in his shoulders that was a constant from all of his web-slinging. Tony set an easy pace, following the dirt trail around the lake and Peter fell into step next to him, their conversation light and lulling into comfortable silence in some places as they hiked, just taking in the scenery.

The area truly was stunning; an uncovered gem that Tony had been lucky to find. Land like this didn’t sit around unoccupied for long in the upstate area and Peter could see himself – one da, hopefully – retiring somewhere similar. Maybe Tony would let him build a house out here someday, he was certainly developing a taste for peace and quiet.

“May said you’d had a tough week,” Tony finally brought up lightly, confirming Peter’s suspicions for the alone time away from curious and meddling ears. The two were the absolute worst gossips at their bi-weekly co-parenting lunches – Peter was just lucky Happy hadn’t started joining them since he and May had started dating. Peter wouldn’t get away with anything if all three of them were involved.

Peter mulled the question over for a few minutes before shrugging, deciding to try for nonchalant. “It wasn’t great but I’m okay,” he finally conceded, voice carefully light.

“You can talk to me Webs,” Tony said carefully, his tone neutral. “If anyone knows what this business is like its me.”

They continued in silence for a minute more before Peter stopped in the path and leaned against one of the trees overlooking the lake, watching a Great Blue Heron wade in the shallows a few hundred feet from them pursuing its next meal. “I lost somebody,” he ground out. “I was right there and I’d already webbed up the bad guy but I guess one of his arms was free enough to still aim and fire his gun and…” Peter sniffed, eyes dry but stinging.

Tony sighed but didn’t offer any platitudes. “It sucks and it’s not fair,” he agreed, reaching out a hand to squeeze Peter’s shoulder quickly in solidarity. “And its going to happen again; all that matters is how you handle it. How are you handling it?”

“Mostly by punching a brick wall until I break my knuckles,” Peter admitted, carefully not looking at his mentor’s facial expression which he knew would be disapproving – Tony wasn’t really a fan of Peter’s penchant for using pain and violence to work through his emotions. He held up his right hand though, allowing the man to inspect the unmarred skin and healed bones without protest knowing he would be fighting a losing battle.

“I think we should talk about healthy coping mechanisms again,” Tony joked without humor. “Because this isn’t it.”

“I know,” Peter admitted.

“You give any more thought to my offer?” And Peter had. After the ‘Blip’ both Tony and May had tried to talk Peter into seeing one of the therapists the Avengers had on retainer. His identity would remain secure and he could vent and develop healthy coping mechanisms. Work through some of the issues he knew that he was repressing. Figure out how to deal with the PTSD WebMD told him he had. He had refused them a couple times over the months he had been back but now…

“I‘ve thought about it,” he admitted.

“And?” Tony asked, voice patient but with a hopeful undercurrent he couldn’t quite hide.

“I’ll try it,” Peter agreed, grunting in surprise when Tony pulled him into a firm hug that Peter leaned into, returning it with equal force and closing his eyes to rest his forehead on Tony’s flesh shoulder, tension he didn’t know he was carrying releasing from his muscles.

“I’m so proud of you kiddo,” the man whispered into his ear and Peter felt a watery smile pull up his cheekbones.

“Thanks,” he said as he pulled back to meet Tony’s eyes only for his mentor to be looking at Peter’s shoulder instead of his face. Peter knit his brows in confusion. “Tony?”

“Hold still Pete,” he said, gesturing to Peter’s shoulder. “Got a little wolf spider on you. I’ll get it.”

“A WHAT!” Peter screeched, jumping backwards and yanking his tank top off, ripping it to shreds and tossing it before running his hands over his arms, hair standing on end and skin crawling like he was covered in bugs.

“Uh,” Tony said, looking caught between laughter and confusion. “You okay bud?”

“I HATE spiders,” Peter said, shuddering and climbing halfway up the tree behind him to get away from his shirt on the ground and the arachnid that may still be in it. He was taking no chances. “Aren’t you going to kill it?”

“Kill it?” Tony asked faintly before letting out a snort. “Hate to break it to you Pete, but we’re in his territory not the other way around.”

“He lost the chance to live when he climbed on me,” Peter spat out venomously, eyes still locked on the shirt. He wasn’t letting the little bastard escape. “Can you please just kill it?”

“Pretty sure you flung him halfway to the city already,” Tony choked out around his laughter, picking up Peter’s discarded shirt and shaking it out to check it. “Think your shirt is toast.”

“You’re sure its gone?” Peter asked suspiciously, still perched on the trunk of the tree and feeling over his arms to make sure it wasn’t still on him.

“Yes Peter, Christ. Can you get down from there?” Peter narrowed his eyes but dropped back to the ground, scanning the area nervously. His Spidey sense was tingling uncomfortably from the adrenaline that was working its way through his system. Tony looked him over for a second to make sure he was okay before letting out a snort and then bursting into laughter. “Spider-Man afraid of spiders. Oh this is good!”

“Yeah yeah,” Peter grumbled, crossing his arms over his bare chest and feeling his cheeks heat up. “Laugh it up.”

“Aw its okay buddy!” Tony said, draping his arm around Peter’s shoulders and pulling him back down the path toward the cabin. “We all have at least one irrational fear. Say,” he said, voice teasing, “does May kill them all for you at home?”

“Hell no!” Peter said, shaking his head. “She’s worse than me – Ben always had to handle the various vermin that would come in the apartment uninvited.”

“So what do you two do? Go ask a neighbor?” Tony teased, lightly elbowing Peter in the ribs and causing him to scowl. “Scream until someone comes running? Call Happy?”

“We just… leave. You know, let it do it’s thing. Then we come home and are just really uncomfortable for a few days,” he said squirming a little in discomfort at the thought.

Tony let out a bark of bright laughter, pulling Peter into a side hug. “We can work on something to help you with that later in the lab I think.”

“Please,” Peter agreed in pure relief, following along back towards the house and keeping a weary eye on his surroundings… just in case.

#summerofwhump #summerofwhump9 #Prompt: Bugs #irondad #spider man #Summer of Whump

[sideblogformindtrash]

SUMMER OF WHUMP - DAY 9 - BUGS

This one is just fluff :)

@summer-of-whump

tag: @whumpropaganda, @whumpzone, @lave-whump, @freefallingup13, @fanmanga1357-blog, @lightdrinker, @as-a-matter-of-whump, @tears-and-lilies, @temporary-whump-sideblog, @pinkraindropsfell

CW: bugs; pet whump; 

They had been planning this for a while. Master had a very strict ‘no animals’ policy in their home, and no amount of begging or crying had convinced him to change his mind. But Master wasn’t cruel, had never been cruel. Had never hurt them. So… This time, they decided to disobey. Or at least, explore a loophole! After all… Bugs weren’t really ‘animals’ were they? And he hadn’t found out about ‘Orfeu’ the Rolly-Pollie. The poor thing started to get lonely. Neither of them wanted it to be lonely, both of them aware of how much that hurt.

So, they started their little plan. Of course they still needed Master to get the things for them. A good thing about it is that Master usually didn’t question their choices. So, next time they went shopping, when Blue asked for two Tupperware and he asked for flower-shop dirty and pebbles, Master didn’t question. He silently judged them, Haru could see, but didn’t question it and got it for them anyway, only concerned if they didn’t want ‘anything else’. They didn’t want to abuse his kindness, so that was it.

Later, they returned home and went to hide together in their bedroom, putting in action their mischievous little plan. They made holes on the lid, laid the dirt nicely on the inside, and placed some of the pebbles to decorate and form little caves and hiding spots for their babies.

Then, all that was left to do was the hunting time!

Master trusted them more often on the trail these days, knowing that they wouldn’t run away, and that they both knew better than to leave the marked path – and get lost in deep, dark woods. They knew it by heart now: From the waterfall at the end, the little streams on the way, the bridge and the rocks. The big rocks and fallen trunk were the best place for their endeavors. They’d lift them up and underneath, there was a whole world of bugs.

They found so many Rolly-Pollies to make company for ‘Orfeu’! Enough that Haru had to tell Blue to let some of them go. They found nice chonky worms, and beetle larvae. Haru could barely wait to see what type of beetle they’d grow into.

They took their new babies and set them on their vivariums, watching as they explored their new homes. Now they needed to figure out a good way to keep them hidden from Master, still letting them have enough light and good temperature.

They ended up finding a really cool place near the fence, just outside the home, that was hidden from the inside but also sheltered. The bugs would thrive!

#blue needs a tag #orfeu and haru #pet whump #summerofwhump #summerofwhump9

[caspia-writes]

Summer of Whump #9 — Bugs

Summary: An injured soldier receives bad news when he has his bandages changed in a field hospital.

Content warnings: Maggots, gangrene, medical horror(?)

The faint blue hue of the sky outside told Fritz what he'd already suspected. He'd spent another night a hopeless insomniac, too pained by his leg to have even the faintest hope of sleeping. There was a slight mercy in that his foot no longer hurt him. Nor his ankle, come to think of it. The pain, agonizing as it was, had been steadily creeping towards his knee, leaving an eerie numbness in its wake. Fritz had tried not to consider the implications of that too much.

But last night had been even worse than the nights. It was beginning to look like something was moving under his bandages. Not anything that should have been moving, either; unless he'd grown toes in the middle of his calf, nothing should have been wriggling there. All Fritz had been able to do was hope it was a trick played by the moonlight or his fevered mind. The nurse had mentioned he was running a high fever. 40.3, wasn't it? Or had she said 40.5?

It didn't matter. He could hear someone approaching his bedside, each footstep squelching in the mud. Even the tent hadn't been enough to keep the ground dry.

As usual, there were no pleasantries. Only a faint glint of metal on the uniform told Fritz that this time it was a medical officer, not a nurse. Probably a surgeon. Most of them in this tent were, it seemed.

Without saying a single word, the presumed surgeon began to unwrap the bandages around Fritz's leg. Fritz tried his best not to groan in pain. Not that he accomplished much, really, but it was some way to keep a fraction of his pride.

Then, at last, the surgeon spoke. "That's not good."

"What?" Fritz managed to will his arms to prop him up a little, just far enough to see what the surgeon was looking at. It didn't take him long to regret that.

In his hands, the surgeon had bandages stained with pus and maggots. So many maggots that they were spilling onto the floor, pooling with the ones falling off Fritz's leg and the bed. Not that looking at the still parts of his leg helped much either; maybe he was half-delirious with fever, but he knew that only rotten corpses were meant to have that purple tinge to their skin, much less inky boils. And then the stench hit him.

For once, Fritz was impressed with himself for only vomiting.

"I'm going to have to amputate." Had he not been in so much shock, Fritz might have objected to the almost bored tone the surgeon said this in. Here he was, rotting alive, and from how the surgeon stated his intent to leave him a cripple, a person might've thought they were instead discussing whether blue or green were the better color. "It probably won't be enough to save you. Have you written your family goodbye yet? Any sweetheart of yours?"

Fritz swallowed. "No."

"If you survive the operation, you should get that in order."

Having lost interest in that topic, the surgeon waved some people over and began rummaging through his bag. "As for the amputation... we're still out of anesthetic, so unfortunately there's nothing I can do for the pain. Bite down on this and try to hold still."

Before he could protest, there was a strip of leather in Fritz's mouth and several hands pressing him against the bed as his eyes began to stream. He managed to sit up just far enough to see the glint of the bone saw in the dawn's first rays of sunshine. And then he screamed.

#writing #writeblr #summerofwhump #summerofwhump9 #bugs #tw gross #tw disgusting #tw maggots #tw amputation

[carnagecardinal]

SOW #9 - bugs @summer-of-whump

Content Warning: bbu, insect.

Their dark t-shirt does little to insulate against the cool solidity of the floorboards under their stomach. Ribs and hips pressing to them in comforting discomfort as Alexis uses one arm as a pillow, the other outstretched and playing perch for a beetle they’d found roaming their room.

Legs bent at the knee and ankles crossed they lazily swing their feet above them as they watch the insect bumble over their skin, the light streaming from the open window striking off its shiny black carapace.

There’s something beautiful about its simplicity. How its worldview is narrowed so thinly to the basics of existence. Eat, sleep, make babies. The beetle is about as aware of the rest of the house as Alexis is of the contents of a black hole.

And, they think, it likely never ponders its life. Never actively stresses about its next meal, the level of safety of its location. Probably doesn’t sit there and wonder when its death might descend on it. The beetle just… is.

If only they could all be so wonderfully oblivious.

Already halfway to open, the bedroom door swings inward as their roommate enters. Pausing there and blinking his surprise as he spots them laying on the floor. Something sits on the tip of his tongue - his mouth opens, but whatever it is doesn’t drop as he notices the black speck wandering Alexis’ arm.

Distaste makes his nose scrunch, but he gives no comment as he moves to his bed to fetch his sketch pad. Instead he says, almost whispers, “Olivia promised to make pancakes tonight.”

Alexis watches the beetle pause, front legs lifting to swipe at what they presume is its face. “Do you believe her?”

Silence stretches long enough that Alexis shifts their head to regard him. His eyes are down, focused on where he’s holding the sketch pad. There’s a fragile hope in his expression, beneath the resignation of reality.

It’s a look Alexis recognizes, and one they haven’t felt themselves for longer than they can recall. The hope of being cared for. Wanted.

“No,” he says at length.

Alexis turns their attention back to the beetle. “The day that woman cooks for us is the day I eat this bug.”

“Uh, ew.”

It’s on their mind to press the fact that it’ll never come to that, because Olivia is an expert at unkept promises. At allaying fears and winning favor with offers and reassurances that never come to fruition. But Alexis keeps it to themself.

When they don’t respond, their roommate mumbles a ‘see you later’ as he exits the room, and Alexis returns to contemplating their insectile friend. More than half wishing that they could trade places.

#summerofwhump #summerofwhump9 #bbu #rescued pet #box boy universe #the unsafe safehouse #Alexis

[grizzlie70]

Isaac vs the Master-SOW

this is a collab with @sapphirechao for @summer-of-whump

day 9-bugs/animals

After sunburn

Isaac found a spot, after hours of walking through the burning desert he finally found someplace to lay in. His body ached and burned and all Isaac wanted was to get out of this hell land. "If the… Masters don't kill me th-" he couldn't speak, his throat was so dry from the lack of water, there wasn’t not a single source of water anywhere. If I don't find anything to eat or drink then the Master's are gonna find me in a sandy tomb. Isaac felt hopeless, he couldn't even cry from the lack of water. 

Isaac looked out and saw something in the distance, it didn't look like sand. He waited to see if it moved. After what seemed like a minute Isaac got up to investigate. Until he got a closer look and saw a weak, old Fennec Fox. Ah, poor little guy. Isaac noticed how thin he was, barely breathing. He had an idea, an awful one and he felt awful for even considering it but his stomach ached with a sharp stabbing pain. Lord, forgive me for what I'm about to do. 

--

He at least made it quick and painless for the poor animal, a quick snap and it was over. Isaac wanted to keel over and heave, guilt striking his heart like a knife. Anything to survive, even a few drops of blood, a few scraps of meat. 

Somehow, despite everything, Isaac found more tears to cry as he quenched his thirst.

tw:stravation, dehydrations, animal death(for survival), desert, sunbruns

#summerofwhump2021 #summerofwhump9 #animals #oh lawd its a fox!