Hey, I know I've been MIA for SEVERAL YEARS now, but I am writing a fic and I CANNOT get through my next chapter so I'm caving and asking for help.
In this fic, I have a whumper who is into games. They're making the whumpee go through trials. The whumpee nailed the fist trial and they're not happy. The whumper is also in posession of whumpee's family (of which I want two to perish in this chapter and three to survive). I'm having trouble thinking about the second trial.
I would like something intellectual: that is, the whumpee would choose to control the outcome, but it would always be terrible (Sophie's choice sort of deal). At first I thought something akin to the chess in Harry Potter in which each of the charaters represents a piece and if the piece gets captured they die. But I feel like that would be 1) hard to narrate 2) hard for readers to follow and 3) it's literally a rip off.
But I'm having trouble thinking of other ways that might happen. Does anyone have any suggestions on where I can look for inspiration?
Thank you everyone who gave their suggestions with this problem!
I did give up on the chess idea, but I was still set on it being a game. So I went for a Minesweeper game, but in a massive scale. Every time the player would set off a bomb, it would activate certain squares with different kinds of effects on the people she was trying to rescue (water, lava, wind, sand etc.).
If anyone is curious as to how it turned out, here's the link to the chapter (the game spreads through both chapter 23 and 24):
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
And now I'm off to vanish again for two more years! Tudalooooooo!
Hey, I know I've been MIA for SEVERAL YEARS now, but I am writing a fic and I CANNOT get through my next chapter so I'm caving and asking for help.
In this fic, I have a whumper who is into games. They're making the whumpee go through trials. The whumpee nailed the fist trial and they're not happy. The whumper is also in posession of whumpee's family (of which I want two to perish in this chapter and three to survive). I'm having trouble thinking about the second trial.
I would like something intellectual: that is, the whumpee would choose to control the outcome, but it would always be terrible (Sophie's choice sort of deal). At first I thought something akin to the chess in Harry Potter in which each of the charaters represents a piece and if the piece gets captured they die. But I feel like that would be 1) hard to narrate 2) hard for readers to follow and 3) it's literally a rip off.
But I'm having trouble thinking of other ways that might happen. Does anyone have any suggestions on where I can look for inspiration?
Will there be more chapters too Ersatz Emotion | Chapter 1? And if there is, is there a link I can find? I could only find the first one.
Hi!
Short answer: Unfortunately no.
Long answer: I had planned 7 more chapters to it plus two options of epilogue you could choose between if you wanted more comfort or more hurt. But though I love the concept of EE and most of all it's title, it's not in my list of writing priorities any time soon.
When I first posted EE, I had just finished posting Blood Bags, which was undoubtedly my most famous whump fic. And was still riding that high when I wrote Chapter 1. But after reception for EE was really "meh", I did what I did best and thought everyone hated it, lost all inspiration for writing it and quietly left it there.
Thank you so much for asking about it. Warms my heart to know people are still reading that stuff after all this time and even wanting more of it.
Do you think you can continue the werewolf story? It was awesome.
Hi! I want to, yeah! I love them very dearly.
I had full intention of making a part two of the last post (the comfort part to the hurt), but I recently got a job in publishing (which has always been my dream) and it gives me very little time to write.
As I always say when I talk about my requests: I WILL get to them, it will just take me a lot of time. I have 6 requests in my askbox that I'm hoping to get to eventually. You're more than welcome to request something about those characters, though.
Thanks for the ask, it warms my heart to know someone still reads the stuff I have here even if I'm hardly ever around anymore <3
dude; we need a comfort aftermath to the werewolf fight that ended with the whumpee passing out
Your wish is my command! This is part five of my Werewolf Whumpee "series". The stories are connected, but each part can be read independently.
Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV
---
Caretaker always thought waking up at dawn was a sign their life was going great. They were sleeping right and they would be well-rested and able to be productive the rest of the day.
Today, however, as the sun rose above them, they kept thinking they wanted to be asleep so bad right now.
First off, their cats were dead. They were pretty sure. They didn’t know how many of the three or which one, but at least one had been killed last night. They’d searched the woods everywhere, but they had found were the people that were now laying on their lawn right now.
Which brought them to the second point: Whumper, the black wolf that had tried to killed Whumpee and Caretaker, wriggling in pain under the sunlight, nasty bites covering their transforming body.
Which of course, led to the third point. Whumpee also laying on the ground, unconscious, their shoulder almost opened in front of them as Caretaker clinged to their fur.
And then, the pièce de résistance: Caretaker themselves was still bleeding pretty profusely from their own bites. If they were bring honest, not much could be worse.
The early sunlight was painting everything in a golden light that was incompatible with what they had just lived through. Still, it allowed them to take a deep breath, try to think. What were their options?
They could call emergency services. But Whumpee would probably get upset. It would bring attention to the fact there are wolves attacking and bring about hunters and whatnot. So that was out of the question.
Take care of them right there, then. They had acquired a lot of medical supplies since Whumpee always came back with a scrape or two. Going inside would be the real hell. And they still weren’t sure about what to do about Whumper. Whumpee never spoke of the rest of the pack, so they didn’t know if it was a friend or foe. Still, it didn’t feel particularly right to let them out here, where anyone could see them from the road.
Caretaker stood up, trying out their legs. They were a bit shaky, but still sturdy enough. Theirs hands went around their middle, putting pressure on their ruined shirt. They looked at Whumpee with pain in their heart and started stumbling towards the house. Like in an airplane: take care of themselves first, then the rest.
Inside, the house felt like another world. Completely normal, bathed in the sunlight. It was the blood dropping on the kitchen tile that made them focus on the task. They limped to the bathroom, grabbed the medical kit and opened it. Ripping out their shirt and sitting on the ground, they haphazardly placed the bandages. They would surely get lose pretty soon, but they just needed it to stop bleeding for now.
Caretaker gave themselves ten seconds. They could rest for ten seconds, then they’d get up and help Whumpee. They leaned against the cold tub and it felt fantastic against their flushed skin. The adrenaline was starting to come down, which could not mean great things for their pain. So once the ten seconds were out, they grabbed the kit and stood up. They grabbed the couch’s blanket and brought it with them.
Back outside, not much seemed to have changed. Whumper had sunk their claws at the ground, their back arching and their chest filling and emptying in unsteady huffs.
It was Whumpee who worried them, though, because they were uncharacteristically still. They were still breathing, but the puddle of blood around them didn’t look promising.
Caretaker laid the blanket down and, thank the heavens Whumpee was out, rolled them into it. They grabbed two sides of it and started pulling. Their middle complained, red stains blossoming in their fresh bandages and stars dancing on their visions. They took a couple of seconds to breathe and pulled again. And breathed and pulled again. Somehow, they managed to only fall on their back steps. Caretaker leaned against the house and breathed and breathed and breathed and kept their hand on Whumpee’s head, as a reminder they had to stay awake, there was still work to be done.
They didn’t know how long it had been, but they got up and dragged Whumpee up the stairs. They looked ridiculous on the kitchen floor, still half wolf, still massive, covered in fur and blood and dirt and leaves. Caretaker opened the medical kit and fumbled and fumbled, unsure of what to do. They weren’t a vet. They were hardly even good at taking care of humans. And whatever had happened to that shoulder was far from their possibility.
So they covered the wound with the blanket to try and stifle the bleeding and sat next to Caretaker. They must have dozed off once or twice, because the sun was traveling up the wall in front of them.
Caretaker blinked, noticing Whumpee was murmuring. They looked down, the transformation almost done now. Whumpee was covered in sweat. Their bite was still pretty bad, but bone was no longer showing, which Caretaker considered to be a good thing. Supernatural healing, then. That’d be good.
They got up and almost fell back down. They pain brought tears to their eyes and they had to grab to the kitchen counters to stay upright. Breathe. In. Out. They dragged themselves to the backdoor again and looked out. The Whumper was still there, also almost human again. Their bites would take longer to heal. They weren’t as deep, but there were many. Caretaker wanted to be a worse person, but they weren’t.
So they went outside and grabbed the older man by the armpits, dragging him to the garage. They left them in the corner near a sink and pulled out some tarp to cover them with. Whumpee was always cold when they woke up. And thirsty and hungry and in pain. But there was only so much they were able to do right now, especially without knowing if this would come back to bite them in the butt. The door to the outside would be unlocked. But Caretaker went back inside and locked the door to the house.
They were able to make it to the couch. The stars that had been jumping around in their vision were taking over. Alright, a break then. Just a break. Three minutes. Then they’d check on whumpee.
---
This was getting pretty long, so I cut it where it was. I'll try to post the rest tomorrow since it's already pretty late here. I wanted to get it out as a belated Christmas present. So merry Christmas!
I still have three other requests on my inbox. As usual, my request box is always open, I just take a long time to get to them.
Hardened and no-nonsense (can come across as callous/exasperated) Medic + inexperienced and slightly terrified Whumpee, and Whumpee needs stitches or other painful field treatment without pain meds available?
I went with firemen, because they are a blast. Haha! Get it! Anyway, love this trope. Thanks for requesting it.
A building had collapsed. Again.
Caretaker barely noticed it anymore. It was just a part of living in a world of superpeople. They broke things to “save the city”, then ran off when it was time to pay the bill. And today seemed to be some major battle because the earth had been shaking more than usual and calls had been coming in from everywhere.
Before they left, the Caretaker saw the rookies getting ready. It would be their first mission. They looked so excited: eyes gleaming, hands nervously checking their equipment. Caretaker hoped they would get a good first run: something chill, to ease them onto the job. They would have many years like Caretaker had to regret going into this career. They could have a couple of days to believe they were heroes.
The building was pretty standard. Most people were already outside. Caretaker stayed out to help with first aid. Some of their comrades went inside to search for the rest of the victims. Everything was running smoothly: people were being put into ambulances and evacuated, bit by bit.
Which, of course, was when the world went to shit. Figures.
The Caretaker’s walkie-talkie blared. Their team was going to be split in two because they were the closest location to the attack. Supervillains trying to destroy City Hall. Caretaker didn’t know why they kept building that place up since it got blown up all the time.
“Some of ours were inside.” Said dispatch as the Caretaker got into the truck. “The rookies. They were picking up donations for last week’s victims.”
Caretaker swore. The truck lit up its lights and sirens and they raced to city hall. Another truck had arrived and was already trying to put out the fire. Caretaker runs inside, with two others right behind them. One separates once they enter the hall. The ceiling has a gaping, flaming hole, which isn’t very encouraging.
As they went from room to room, their colleague gathered the people who could walk and started walking them back to the entrance. Caretaker was alone. But that was fine. That had happened many times before.
Caretaker helped a worker whose desk had fallen on her and handed her off through the window to a colleague. The rest of the floor was mostly evacuated. Then, as they walked past the elevator towards the stairs, they heard whimpering.
“Hello?” They called out.
“Here!” They heard, from below, through the elevator doors. Caretaker quickly took out the tool and got the doors opened. The elevator car was halfway here, halfway down. The cables were all twisted and it looked like it was the only thing holding it in place and keeping it from breaking down. “I- I’m here.”
Called the person again. Caretaker carefully looked inside. At the bottom of the car, laid one of her rookies, Whumpee. Boxes and boxes of donations were around them on the floor under the little light coming from her flashlight. Their body however, was on the floor. An insane amount of blood covered the floor of the elevator.
“They had—” They tried to say, eyes so pained they were unfocused. “They had donations— The… the elevator.”
“Shh. It’s fine. I get it. Let’s get you out of here.”
Caretaker assessed. Down was always better than up, especially in a flaming building. They raced down the stairs into the basement until they found the entrance to the elevator. Luckily, the doors were already opened there.
As soon as they arrived, they noticed the rookie was breathing too fast.
“Stop that.” Caretaker said, drier than they meant to. “You’re going to hyperventilate.”
The rookie looked at them with tears in their eyes.
“I thought you’d left.”
“Why would I leave? You’re stuck with me. Now, where are you hurt?”
They pointed.
“My leg. It’s pretty busted.”
One look confirmed it. It was badly dislocated. But not broken.
“We need to get you out of that elevator before it falls. Got that?”
Rookie shook their head.
“I don’t want to.”
“I didn’t ask. Give me your arms.”
Caretaker pushed the boxer aside and grabbed the Whumpee’s arms, slowly dragging them. Whumpee yelled, but didn’t squirm. Caretaker grabbed them by the shoulders and finally got them out of the elevator, grabbing their knees before they fell.
That, of course, didn’t help their injury, and they yelled again, staring to hyperventilate again.
“Hey, hey. No. None of that.” Caretaker placed them down on the floor. They took out the cylinder of oxygen at their back, opened it and placed the mask on their face. “This is a burning building and we have to get out of it, right?”
Whumpee was looking at Caretaker as if they were speaking Greek.
“Right?!” They pushed.
“Right.” Rookie said in a small voice.
“And what to we need to make that happen?”
Rookie blinked and then looked at themselves.
“For me to walk?”
“Fantastic. And how do we do that?”
Caretaker placed themselves in front of their dislocated knee.
“No.”
“Yes. Count to three.”
“No! You’re going to do it on two!”
“They give you too much training on that school! One!”
“No, no, no, no!” Rookie cried, hiding their face, but otherwise firmly secure by Caretaker’s experienced hands.
“Two!”
“Just go already!” Whumpee yelled, read in the face!”
“Three!”
“You’re supposed to go on two!”
“Four!” Caretaker pulled the leg back in its place and Rookie screamed in pain. Whumpee slumped back, their eyes rolling back, their body covered in sweat, breathing heavily.
Caretaker slapped their face lightly.
“Hey. Wake up. This is still a burning building. We have to get out.” Whumpee blinked, in pain, their breathing difficult. Caretaker held the mask closer to their face. “Deep breaths, rookie. You can do it. I’m right here.”
Caretaker sat them down. Whumpee slumped, looking like they would fall. Their hand grabbed the mask and they took two deep breaths before nodding they were ready.
Caretaker stood them up, one of their arms around their shoulders. They were carrying the Rookie more than helping them, but it was alright. They stepped once. Then twice and Caretaker had to use their injured knee. They gritted their teeth and gave another step.
Together, they would make it out of this burning building.
Thank you for reading all the way here! Reminder I take requests, I just take a VERY long time to get through them.
GIVE ME NICE WHUMPER!! GIVE IT TO MEEEE!! Open... the nice whumper vault. Stop... having it be closed. D : asdfghjkl
Hhhhhhhhhhnnnngggg… Fine! Just this once.
---
“I’ll be right here when you come out, alright?”
Whumper’s voice was always the last thing Whumpee heard before everything went to shit. They tried to remind themselves it wasn’t Whumper’s fault. But it was damn hard not to hate their guts when it hurt like this.
The tests were a stepping stone on the way to a cure. A cure for humanity. Whumpee just had to suck it up. They were the ones who had begged to join the program anyway. And Whumper always said their life meant nothing when compared to the survival of the species.
First, the new drug would go into the bloodstream. The effects of each one were always a fun surprise. The disease took over the entire body, with symptoms that varied from case to case, with a few common ones. More than just a cure, they helped develop medicine for the symptoms. Only one thing was always the same: the burning sensation spreading through their flesh as the liquid travelled.
“Steady,” Whumper said, holding Whumpee down as they struggled against the uncomfortable restraints that held them to the table. There were still bruises where they had been held down before. The restraints weren’t enough. When the drug spread… every instinct they had yelled that they had to leave. A spasm made Whumpee try to pull their arm away and Whumper slammed them down. “Steady, now!”
“I heard!” Whumpee spits back, trying to hold still. It was like trying to keep smoke inside. You can do it for a while, but one the burning gets too intense, builds up too high, you have to let it out or it consumes you.
The burning was on their chest now, their breathing getting labored. Sweat covered their entire body within a few minutes. Ah, so this was what they were trying to treat this time…
“Hey. Don’t fall asleep.” Whumper gave them a little slap to the cheek. Whumpee held back the instinct to bite them.
“Wasn’t… planning… on it.” Whumpee managed, as their throat kept closing up.
“I mean it. If you embarrass me, I’ll stop giving you extra pudding.”
“No… You won’t.” Whumpee’s back rose off of the table as a new wave of searing pain crossed their chest as if scorching iron was being touched to the skin and let out a pained scream before falling back down, breathless. They felt Whumper cleaning their face with a glorious cold compress. “You… hate… pudding,” Whumpee continued, as if nothing had happened, although dark spots were swimming around their vision.
“That’s true.” Whumper always seemed casual during these sessions. Whumpee didn’t know if it was all an act, or if they were truly this able to ignore another’s feelings. Whumper held them by the neck - not hard, but enough to cut the limited supply of air. “That doesn’t mean I can’t make your life much worse if you don’t fight.”
Whumpee fought. They rose off the table, banged back down, revolted against the retraints until they felt blood. Whumper pulled back with a smile, raising their hands. Whumpee saw it as if they were seeing it on the other side of a tunnel. They let go, closing their eyes and focusing on their breathing.
They opened their eyes a second before Whumper was about to slap them again.
“One day…” Whumpee said. “W-w-when… This is all over. When this… When we get this cure…” Getting the words out was a struggle on itself, but this they had to say. “I’ll kick your ass.”“And if when we do get this cure, I’ll let you.” Whumper said, leaning closer and raising an eyebrow. “There’s an incentive to stay alive.”
---
Listen, this one BROKE ME. T'was the reason for me collapse. I could not conceive of a nice whumper even WAS. I was in shambles, not thinking myself worthy of this community.
But I have returned and FACED MY FEARS. There's your nice whumper!
And as usual, my requests are ALWAYS open. I might take over a year (like I did with this one), but I'll get to them eventually
Vampire Whumper stealthily turns Whumpee into a vampire as well. Those turning pains disguised through torture, the heightened senses dulled by concrete, low lighting, and no exposure to anything else.
Whumper feeds Whumpee blood through the meals, not even bothering to disguise the taste. Whumpee won’t notice anyway, it’s the only thing they’ve had to eat in days.
Whumpee keeps track of the days, the weeks, the months, the years… how long until they notice something is off? Their body isn’t aging like it should be, or is that because their perception is distorted from being trapped underground for so long? How long until they taste the blood in the food? How long until they see something out of the ordinary, a mouse perhaps, and realize they can see and hear everything? That they can hear the blood pumping, the heart beat, and that it sounds so… appetizing?
Whumper, of course, loving Whumpee’s obliviousness, and the slow, gut-wrenching realization. “How long since I was human?”
One of my favorite whump things is when the whumpee is trapped. Doesn’t matter how. They could be trapped:
Underneath the rubble of a collapsed building.
Pinned to a wall or the floor after being impaled by something.
In a broken elevator.
In a closet or smaller room.
In an industrial freezer.
In a mineshaft.
In a snowstorm or an avalanche.
In a car that ran off the road into a body of water.
With their leg stuck under something veeery heavy.
In a dream/nightmare/vision.
In another realm/reality.
The possibilities are endless! It’s the fear of being unable to escape or move and also their teammates or loved ones desperately trying to get to them, to free them. I just love it.
Could you do another one of your werewolf whumpee? Maybe one where Whumpee has to protect Caretaker?
You know, it’s been years… but the prospect of writing about my werewolf whumpee brought me back from the dead.
This is an unofficial series about a Werewolf Whumpee and their Human Caretaker. If you want to read more about this duo, you can do so HERE, HERE, and HERE.
When things didn’t make sense, Whumpee always tried to follow their last memories. Establishing a timeline usually helped to calm them down.
Everything started that morning. They had kissed Caretaker good-bye in the car. CT had driven them home. Whumpee had been spending the night more and more at Caretaker’s house. It was wrong. They knew it would end badly at some point. But if it was the only pleasure they every knew, they were selfish enough to try, at least for some time.
Once Caretaker had left, Whumpee had cleaned the house, readied their pills for when they were back to their human for, locked away what could hurt them. Then, when night started to fall, they went outside, already panting, muscles burning, to wait. They had changed and ran into the woods.
It was harder to hold on to their memories until then. They were so common, so painfully domestic that their brain usually just deleted them. What came later was much clearer.
Near morning, they had started walking to Caretaker’s house. It was a habit even the wolf in them had picked up. Usually, Caretaker came outside, pet them. Sometimes Whumpee would go inside and turn back in there, where they had a change of clothes, painkillers and coffee ready. Other times, Caretaker told them to go home, because they knew Whumpee didn’t like them to hear the pain of turning.
That night, Caretaker wasn’t home. Which was odd, because Caretaker was like a grandparent. They slept early and rose with the sun. Then Whumpee had smelled the blood.
No. It took a second for them to understand. It wasn’t human. It was cat blood. And there was a trail leading into the woods. A trail with Caretaker’s scent all over it. The timeline got confused. Wolves are not the best at coherent thought. But it was clear something had gotten their cat and Caretaker, the cat parent, had followed right behind, probably forgotten that it was a full moon.
Whumpee had broken into a sprint, trotting around the woods, frantically sniffing the air for a more recent scent. The screaming came before they could find it. Whumpee raced towards it. The overwhelming scent of human blood hit them and Whumpee jumped into the clearing with claws and teeth already out, catching a black wolf by the dewlap and forcing them down. The black wolf bit back, barely missing Whumpee’s paws. Their muzzle was coated in red. Cat blood. Human blood. Their human.
Clawing at the black wolf to keep them down, Whumpee bit their neck. Whimpering, thrashing, and fighting for their life, the black wolf managed to escape Whumpee’s weight and bite their shoulder back. Whumpee roared, scratching at their chest. Black wolf’s teeth dug deep into their shoulder before they pulled back and went for the neck. Whumpee pulled back before that bite, but jumped ahead once more, trying to push them to the ground to gain access to their belly.
The black wolf stumbled, but jumped around, going for Whumpee’s back legs. Whumpee took that opportunity to scratch at their chest and send the flying back.
“Whumpee, watch out!”
Caretaker’s voice came from the dark. Whumpee whirled just before a white wolf crashed onto them and forced them down. Their bitten shoulder hurt like hell and their struggled to try and bit at the white wolf’s paw. White wolf didn’t budge, they were bigger and stronger. Took them half a second to have Whumpee’s neck around their teeth and pull to rip the flesh.
A howl of pain escaped their throat. The black wolf was suddenly back, biting at their belly, not matter how frantically they thrashed their paws. Black spots danced in their vision, the smell of their own blood coating their muzzle enough to drown out all other smells.
Then, there was a thud and a wave of light. Whumpee fought back to consciousness in time to see Caretaker standing up. There were bad bites on their abdomen, bleeding. But on their hands there was a flaming stick. Something ancient in Whumpee said run run run run run fire fire, but the human in them saw the other wolves thought the same. They were snapping their jaws, trying to circle them, to steal the fire and put it out.
They didn’t have much time. The stick wasn’t long. It wouldn’t last forever. Whumpee forced themselves up. The pain on their shoulder made them waver, consciousness slipping away by the second, but they didn’t fall. Whumpee growled at the other wolves, too far gone to recognize any of them. Caretaker was looking from them to the other wolves, shaking, their free hand holding his bleeding side.
Whumpee touched their head to CT’s leg, gesturing towards themselves. Caretaker looked confused and shook their head. Whumpee grabbed their pant leg and pulled carefully until Caretaker understood.
“No, you’re hurt.”
Taking advantage of their distraction, the white wolf tried to attack. Whumpee put their body between Caretaker and the wolves. They growled at Caretaker for them to hurry up. They still thought for another second before swinging the stick at the wolves and mounting Whumpee, who started to run away with the second’s advantage they had.
They had talked about it before. Caretaker, in their endless admiration for life and the supernatural side of Whumpee, had suggested doing that, to what Whumpee had forbidden them to do. Now it might be their only chance, thought it wasn’t a very good one. The black and white wolves were already tailing them. Whumpee had managed to wound the black one, but the white was unharmed and it was running fast. And pain was travelling up Whumpee’s bones. They felt their life draining away as blood oozed from the bite in their neck, from the scratch at their shoulder.
But they didn’t need to go far. If they reached the sunlight, the three of them would turn back to human. And Caretaker would be free. Dawn was breaking already. They only had to leave the woods.
Whumpee felt themselves loosing speed, the pain on their shoulder worsening. The sound of snapping jaws at their sides kept them going, but every second they weren’t sure it would be enough. The white wolf was back, shoulder to shoulder and it pushed Whumpee to the left, so they would have to lean worse on their shoulder. Caretaker yelled something and kicked the white wolf hard, pushing them away. In a second they were back, biting at Caretaker. They kicked again, hitting the wolf right at the nose, sending them back whimpering.
The black wolf was on the other side of Whumpee, gaining ground despite their wounds. Their jaw was snapping just a breath away from Whumpee’s ear and they were smart enough to dodge Caretaker’s kicks.
Whumpee’s vision was darkening around the edges, but they forced their legs for one last sprint. They could see the sunny outline of Caretaker’s yard just ahead. Both of them burst through the covering of the trees, Whumpee clawing the ground to stop. Caretaker fell off their back, rolling through the grass until they stopped near the vegetable garden at the side of the house.
Once the sun finally hit them, Whumpee felt the fur starting the recede inside the skin. Their bones started melding back down to their original much smaller size. The entire process would still take hours. Behind them, they heard black wolf try to go back into the woods, but their yelp of pain revealed they, too, were turning back.
Whumpee let themselves lay down. Unconsciousness claimed them to the sound of Caretaker crying and clinging to their fur, telling them that everything was going to be alright.
I still have three other requests on my inbox. As usual, my request box is always open, I just take a long time to get to them.
But dare me to write to comfort to this hurt, DOUBLE DARE ME and I’ll do it.
The whumpee had escaped a long time ago, and they’d grown so much as a person- the only thing haunting them is the person they left behind. Saving the other whumpee would’ve gotten them both caught and the whumpee was still looking for a way to break them out, but they didn’t even know what the whumper did to them after they realized one of their captives had escaped.
