Byte's Whump Sideblog

hiiii hi hi hiiiiiii i’m rebooting one of my wips i left to collect dust and this is the pitch post. yay :)

initially named “metamorphosis” (title to be redetermined), the story follows our protag, ryouhi fukenaga, who is living out in the early aftermath of an apocalypse. she lives in an alternate universe in a planet that was once brimming with magic. after wreckage caused by a nuclear war, the planet’s magic has corrupted and become dangerous. the planet has been left in ruins. humanity has dwindled and in its remnants parasitic, demon-like creatures have taken their place. curses, some call them, and the last existing bearers of magic.

ryouhi has been possessed by a parasite after a run-in with one of these creatures as a child. the parasite takes the form of her dead twin sister, and calls itself kageko. it torments her every waking hour, haunts her. she very badly wishes to rid herself of it. on some days, she can’t tell if it is indeed, her sister, or just another one of those demons.

as a teen, ryouhi is forced into servitude to a woman named lady mahuya, nobility. she takes a liking to ryouhi specifically from the batch of girls she was apart of, and takes her back home with her. it’s there she meets another girl, aster. he’s lady mahuya’s right hand, and has been so since he was a toddler. he’s also a host to a parasite, just as she is. ryouhi regarded more as a pet and aster a weapon, the two are lady mahuya’s biggest objects of affection, and her favourites. the two are very close.

the promise of freedom hangs over the two of them constantly. it will be granted to them if they manage to break their curse. but as aster & ryou both age into adulthood, it becomes extremely clear that it was never going to be an option in the first place.

anyways!! that’s my little concept blurb n_n there’s also a knights situation going on and another important main character is odesa, a knight that works for mahuya. aster is also a knight but to a lesser extent because of aforementioned living weapon situation. aaaaa i haven’t talked about these guys in a while but i’m very excited to develop them moreeee. ryouhi & kageko are my oldest ocs ever i’ve had them since i was 13. might post some writing sometime soon?? definitely some art i need to draw my (now) girls again.

like, in the prompts and scenarios you'd see around, it would never be "caretaker" it'd be "medic", "teammate", "friend", "s/o", or whatever, something more focused on what the character doing the helping is to whumpee outside the moments when the whump is happening. Like the specific word caretaker wasn't really used at all when I was new to whump, though I couldn't tell you when it started being common

Your last paragraph really hit the nail on the head.

A lot of what makes whump compelling as a storytelling device gets lost when these dynamics stop shifting. A medic who sometimes gets hurt themself, who gets too stressed and turns snappy when they shouldn't, and still has a bond with the victim where they mutually support one another when no one else does is far, far more intriguing than 'the one whose role is to be a one-way, endless source of comfort-giving, full stop'.

There has been a noticeable shift towards “tropification” of stories. Like, I was a fan of TVTropes back in its heyday but this is an extreme. It feels like now people are actively seeking out specific tropes and creating based almost solely on strict interpretations of those tropes. And with that has come a certain subset of folks who seem to get upset or even offended when their preferred tropes aren’t “done right” or don’t go the way they want or expect.

(Caveat: I’m not saying this mindset didn’t exist before, but the predominant way fandom operates nowadays is strongly influenced by this sentiment in a way that it wasn’t before.)

Tropes aren’t rules. They’re not even guidelines. They’re just patterns that repeat across stories.

Me: I should write a fic where they snuggle and get taken care of

When it isn't quite total control. When you have to sit in the passenger seat of your own body, feeling yourself move against your will. When you can fight, strain against the control, every second of hesitation a victory. You're dragged around like a puppet by its strings, each movement a tug of war between you and Whumper. Better not lose.

When it is total control. Watching days slip by behind a pane of glass, losing touch with what part of you is still you. Watching your body obey Whumper's orders, hearing your voice speak Whumper's words. Your thoughts, desires, needs completely disconnected from the actions your body takes. Someone else living in your skin while you watch helplessly.

When its a complete blackout. You blink on the battlefield and suddenly you're in a prison cell, defenseless and confused. Whumper walks in and you blink again, and suddenly you're doing dishes on a cold winter night. Blink, and you're outside in the springtime with Whumper. Blink, and there's a bloody knife in your hands and your friend's bodies at your feet.

Hand on the throat — not choking, just resting there, a reminder of how easily it could turn.

Crowding in close — shoulder to the wall, breath hot in the ear, nowhere to move.

Weapon pressed flat — knife laid cold against the skin, unmoving, just waiting.

Mocking calmness — a soft smile, quiet words, while holding them pinned in place.

Dragged into the light — spotlight or flashlight shoved in the face, no shadows to hide in.

Hands behind the back — wrists twisted just enough to ache, captor murmuring threats.

Forced stillness — someone grips their jaw tight, turning their face where they want it.

Interrupted silence — no strike, no shout, just someone leaning close and whispering: “You know what happens next.”

Cut off from escape — blocking the doorway, boots planted, arms folded, waiting for the panic to rise.

Pain without strike — pressing a thumb into a fresh bruise or wound, watching for the flinch.

Looming presence — circling like a predator, slow steps echoing louder than words.

Mock vulnerability — letting them go, daring them to try to run, promising what will happen if they do.

Dragged to the ground — knee planted on the chest, pinning with effortless weight.