This is my whump intro! I have a lot of names- on my main blog I go by cozy- but I guess Ophelia and Cosette fit this blogâs aesthetic more! (she/her) Iâve liked whump ever since I was a kid.
Favorite Whump Things:
minor dehumanization
sickfics
lab experiment
blindfolds, gags, tied to chair
humiliation
mild torture
knifepoint, gunpoint
hostage
crying
screaming
collars
Things You Wonât Find Here:
intimate/creepy whumper (in stories I mean)
whump romance (caretaker x whumpee, etc)
noncon whump
role reversal
nsfw
whumper turned caretaker
superhero whump (TUMBLR PLEASE STOP RECOMMENDING ME THIS. I DO NOT HATE THE GENRE IM JUST NOT INTO IT. AHHHH)
team whump
Favorite Whump Stories
(order isnât personal just in the order in which I discovered them)
The Crow and the Dove by @there-will-always-be-blood
Chimera Children by @melpomenelamusa
Fawn and Hunter by @whumping-valentine
Fish Out of Water by @bilightingwhumper
Belonging to Nightmares by @bilightningwhumper
The Winged Servant by @rainbowsandwhumperflies
Espada by @cepheusgalaxy
Destroyer by @paingoes and its sequel Rubies and Destroyer (Vol. 2)
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Hey, are you planning to put torture in your story? It is important to remember that torture does not work. There are a lot of reasons why torture happens, and some people do perform torture thinking that it is effective, but it is not. All the research says otherwise. People lie, make things up, dissociate, panic, become cognitively impaired, or resist out of spite, fear, loyalty, or trauma. Torture actively impairs memory and recall as it occurs, and torturers are typically not good at picking out lies from truths.
Also, don't underestimate the damage and trauma that 'clean' tortures can cause. If your story takes place in a modern setting, 'clean' tortures are much more common. You can still die from them. You will still likely have life-long complications, physical or mental, from them. This is also true for non-contact torture. People who have experienced torture are significantly more likely to go on to develop chronic illnesses and mental health conditions. Survivors do not all react the same way. Some become fearful and withdrawn; others become emotionally numb, angry, hypervigilant, dissociative, or outwardly functional.
Also, torture harms both the torturer and the person being tortured. Organizations that utilize torture are usually very dysfunctional within the unit(s) that it is being performed in. PTSD, moral injury, emotional dysregulation and damaged self-control, interpersonal violence, and mood disorders are common in torturers and the larger group they are typically operating in, whether that is as sanctioned and organized as the police or military or on a much smaller and less organized scale. Organizations using torture often become less trustworthy internally. Fear, secrecy, corruption, scapegoating, dehumanization, and normalization of abuse tend to spread beyond the interrogation room. Dominance, power, revenge, ideology, and poor emotional regulation are often the core drivers behind torture.
If you are writing a character and want an alternative to them using torture that actually is shown to work, rapport-building, patience, consistency, and offering safety or dignity are historically far more effective interrogation methods than coercion.
If torture works instantly and cleanly in a story, it can unintentionally reinforce myths that real governments and abusive groups have historically used to justify torture.
You can have torture in your stories! I do. But it is important to know whether and how torture apologia might accidentally be in your work, as it is very mainstream.
The whumpee and caretaker are both held captive by a cruel, sadistic whumper.
The whumper singles out the whumpee for torture. They don't lay a finger on the caretaker, but they brutally beat the whumpee every day.
They force the caretaker to watch.
As the wounds pile on, never having the chance to heal properly because the whumper never stops, the caretaker starts begging the whumper to hurt them instead.
Helpless, desperate, they promise anything. Just let the whumpee have a break. Just please don't hurt them today.
The whumper smiles. They say that yes, of course, since the caretaker's been asking so nicely, they'd be glad to do as asked and switch them out for a while.
But the whumpee has to want it, too. The whumpee has to say that they want the caretaker to be hurt in their place.
The caretaker's eyes land on the whumpee, shivering on the floor and barely able to move. "Please. Tell them you want me to be hurt."
There's silence. In that silence, the caretaker's heart aches, because they know what the whumpee's going to say.
"N...no. Don't hurt them."
"Please! You can't take much more of this. I can't stand watching you suffer!"
"...no."
The whumper chuckles, and kicks the whumpee's side. They shoot the caretaker a merciless grin. "Well, you heard them. The answer is no."
Whumper has Whumpee at their mercy, and notices the latter's nervousness at what's to come. To calm them down, Whumper gently takes Whumpee's trembling hand in theirs. They caress it gently like a parent would comfort a child.
Before immediately snapping Whumpee's fingers backwards with a sickening 'crack'.
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hey! can we get some extra info or stuff abt Adam and Asa bc they r my new obsession
Yeah, totally! Thanks for asking! ^-^
(This is gonna be a long info dump, prepare yourself.)
What's Adam's Deal?
So, Adam was born in the south of India in the second century. He was born with an incredibly rare Light (power): immortality. He can heal from pretty much anything, and he stopped aging at about 30. (I say "pretty much" because there are theoretical exceptions. If you took him to the bottom of the ocean, the pressure would turn him into paste. Same thing with space. Basically, if it destroys his whole body all at once, it'll kill him.)
Adam's birth name was Aditya, though he's taken on countless different identities and moved around a lot over the centuries to hide the fact that he isn't aging. Over the course of his long life, he's made countless friends, lovers, and children. He's loved all of them dearly, but no matter what, eventually he always loses them. They die and he keeps living.
That pain wore down on Adam over the years. He tried to withdraw himself from human connection, but realized that that just drove him mad with lonliness. So he deduced that the only way for him to be happy was to have a companion that was immortal too. Someone that wouldn't ever leave him.
He tried with his children, but none of them ever inhereted the immortal Light. A couple of them were born with other powers, but not the right one. Adam realized he needed to study why some people are born with Light and some aren't, in order to try and force it. So he founded the Light Research Association (LRA) in the late 1800s. This company began to hire the best scientists in order to study kids with Light.
The research was slow going without many breakthroughs, but Adam was determined to make someone immortal, even if it meant engaging in... unethical experiments.
Then, inexplicably, without any of Adam's intervention, in 1931 Adam's most recent fling had a child... one with a healing Light! The child's name was Isaac. Adam was ecstatic at first. Finally, a child with a healing Light like him! But Isaac was not like him. While Adam could heal himself, Isaac could only heal others. And unfortunately, Adam was already attached.
Adam tried for years to "evolve" Isaac's Light, to turn his healing inward so that he could be immortal too. But nothing worked. Isaac tragically died at 18 years old, leaving Adam completely and utterly in despair. That's when he fully lost it.
He threw himself into his research, cutting off the outside world and trying to figure out the secrets of the human genome. He tried cloning experiments, using Isaac's DNA as well as his own, implanted into embryos and incubated by various women, most of whom did not know that Adam was using them. (Evil, I know. Adam is a bad man.)
Most of these experiments failed, and Adam pretty much gave up. But little did he know, one of the women he impregnated actually did successfully give birth. She gave birth to a healthy baby boy that she named Asa. And Asa, unlike any child Adam had has before, actually inhereted the immortality Light.
But Adam didn't know this. He wouldn't find out that Asa was even born for another 13 years, when Asa finally gets caught by the LRA.
When Adam hears of the seemingly immortal boy that looks just like him, he can hardly believe it. He wants to introduce himself to Asa and finally be a father to someone that won't die, but he's hesitant. He doesn't actually know how immortal Asa really is. He doesn't want to get attached to someone who might die and leave him behind. So, Adam hired Dr. Jamie Hamlin to experiment on Asa and stress-test his Light, to determine if Asa truly is immortal. (This hurts Asa. A lot.)
When he's finally sure that Asa is immortal, Adam takes him from the LRA and tries to get him to see him as a father, but when Asa finds out that Adam was behind his suffering at the hands of Dr. Hamlin, Asa tries to run. Adam can't let Asa leave him. He's done being alone. So he imprisons Asa in his penthouse and gets to work on part 2 of his plan: "saving" humanity by bringing immortality to the rest of the world.
And as his first and only successful experiment, Asa's blood is the key.
---
Yeesh that was long ^^; hope that answered any questions you might have. Let me know if there's more you want to know!
something i never see explored with caretaker or friend characters is what it's like to grow up surrounded by traumatised people, but have no trauma of your own. it feels like you're on the outside of this club that you can only get into by going through something Really Bad, even though the people inside the club are happy to welcome you anyway, you know you'll never actually fit in.
and fucked up as it sounds, you want to fit in. you want the awful things to happen to you. you feel envious of what they have, even if that thing is memories of the most awful things known to man and consequences that run your daily functioning into the ground.
you're not sick enough to relate to the sick people, but you've seen ever so slightly too much to fit in with the "normal" people. your problems seem so minimal compared to these life-altering horrors that the whumpees have been through, yet you're not coping anyway. so either you admit that the problem is yourself, or you find a reason to react that way.
give me caretakers that sit through whumpee's stories and swallow back envy. who actively go looking for danger and dodgy people in the hopes that they'll go through something that can put them on whumpee's level. who plan out how to make things worse in precise, structured detail, then get angry with themself because what the fuck are they doing and it doesn't count if it's fucking orchestrated.
Photos of whumpee's brutal injuries are used in a textbook as examples of horrific torture. Whumpee happens across this book by accident, decades later.
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[ID. A drawing of Kaki, with his neck supported on a white neck pillow, sleeping soundly on a chair. His skin is covered by scars and the light bathing him is warm, and someone out of view says: "Shhh. He's resting. End ID.]
Questions from this ask game by @/paingoes and inspired by @/whumpawaydarling's version!
(cws: Implied child abuse and implied deaths, though non-permanent, and including suicide.)
Featuring: Ev (they/she, 14yo). My dear immortal whumpee that has recently taken over my brain <3
âââ
The room is round and tall, finely decorated by a variety of pale sofas, all of good taste. They are spread around its shiny hardwood floor, which sparsely appears by the gaps of an extensive fluffy carpet. All the white is complemented by soft auburn pillows lounging over the seats, the warm morning sky being shown through a tall windowâyou had meant to make them comfortable, and by the kid's demeanor, it seems to have worked.
Evangeline wears a pink sleeveless sweater and shorts, fit for the weather, seeming comfortable. They'd asked to allow in some air. The faint breeze coming in sways her hair, and she isn't looking at you.
You flicker a pen and take out your clipboard, clearing your throat to draw her attention.
May I? You ask.
They don't look embarrassed in the slightest at having ignored you, but don't drag it out any longer at the question. The kid just stares back, prying her eyes away from the window and shrugging with a nod, settled on one of the round cushions spread around the room. It looks soft.
1. What emotion do they experience most often?
Ev seems to think for a while.
"I don't know," she concludes. "I don't exactly remember. It allâŚ" she wanders off. "It all seems to blend together after a while."
"In the beginning, though, I think it was this heavy clawing feeling at my chest," they point out to it, mimicking the motion. "I don't know what to call it. It made it hard to breathe."
2. What do they dream about?
She averts her eyes from you, falling back in the sofa with a muffled huff. You try not to be offended. "Hm," she wets her lips. "A dream? I want a birthday party. A big one," she settles in, as if just deciding it. "But Eli has to be there. Since it's my birthday." They stare at the ceiling, not sounding that energetic about the idea in a way that makes you think they don't really believe it'll be real. "Though that won't happen. She doesn't always can."
3. How is their pain tolerance compared to the average person?
They hum, thinking it over, still laying down with their belly up. "Good, I guess. I'm used to it."
4. Whatâs their least favorite kind of pain?
You catch them tensing up in their spot. Evangeline rolls over on her side.
Her voice is low when she says, "fire." They don't move for a few moments. "I don't like fire."
5. Would they rather be hurt or humiliated?
She groans. "Neither. But I won't combust or anything, so it's whatever."
6. What could they be threatened with that would make them genuinely panic?
A little squeaking noise leaves their mouth, but it's low. "Don't tell her," she pleads, the sound starting to come out strangled. "I don't like the Chamber. I don't like it when she locks me there." You think you see the border of tears beginning to form on her eyes. "It'sâI don't like it. I don't like it," she repeats. "I know I onlyâIt's only when I deserve it, but I don't like it." Their voice breaks at the last words.
7. How do they feel about caretaker?
That makes the girl snap her eyes back at you. She sits up, rising her arm at her eyes to wipe them.
"She's the coolest person on Earth," she states, matter-of-factly. There's a glimmer of pride in there, despite how she sniffs. "My sister is smart, and she's very talented," they nod, smiling. "Did you know she rules NAIPE all by herself? And she raised me all alone," the grin on her face is fond. "I love her."
8. How do they feel about whumper as a person?
Evangeline seems confused. "But I just said that," she answers, legs crossed. "I love her."
9. Do they rationalize their pain at all? How do they cope with it?
They blink. "Do I what?"
You put down your clipboard and start explaining it to them. They make a face.
"It's nothing," she puts her elbow on her knee and supports a cheek on the hand. "I just get rid of it."
There's a pause.
"When she lets me."
10. If they could go back in time, what would they do differently?
Evangeline starts swinging back and forth, legs still crossed on the sofa. "Hm," they purse their lips. "I would be better." They look down. "I guess."
She doesn't give any further explanation. You aren't sure what she is talking about.
11. Would they trade places with whumper?
"No!" They answer, quickly. Then, looking a bit embarrassed, continue, "I could never be like her. Eli is strong, and smart. I'm not like that. Bâbesides," she looks down, playing with a lock of her bangs. "I'm the only one that can stay as is. If it wasn't me thenâ" their voice breaks again, and they take a while to recover it. "I can survive. I can bear it."
12. What do they think about while theyâre resting/healing?
"Sometimes it's about wanting to go out again," they ponder, with a grimace. Their arms rise up to hug themelf. You don't think she notices it. "I know I shouldn't when Eliah says I can't, butâ" they bite their lip, averting their gaze again. "Sometimes it's too much," they mumble. "And I wish she'd let me die."
Then there's a shrug. She seems to want to get rid of the thought. "I'm a good sibling, though. I don't disobey her. I⌠just. I eventually am fine."
13. Who do they trust most?
They don't miss a beat in answering. "Eliah."
14. So, what did they learn?
"Ah," you think their gaze is almost bitter for a second. It's quickly gone.
"To win points," she says. "I mean, not exactly points, but if I'm good today, I can, like, get the syringe in another, you know? It's the best. You don't even feel it, and it leaves nothing when you come back," she smiles softly. You feel a little uncomfortable and decide against asking what the syringe is. "When I can't have it, though, sometimes Eli lets me do it myself. I like it when she does. Even the phantom pain that stays isn't as bad, somehow," she shrugs. "So, yeah. If you're good, you get nice things."
She still doesn't look at you.
---
[Editor's notes:
Question #6 â "The Chamber" refers to a certain punishment applied by Eliah Nuray [their legal guardian) in the circumstances in which Evangeline misbehaves, albeit more rarely than other "disciplining techniques". The employee we consulted was hesitant in providing further details as to what exactly "the Chamber" entails, so it remains unclear.
Question #9 â Here, they are referring to the particularity of their power to retain the pain of death even after they come back. (They are also referring to it when they talk about "phantom pains" in question #14.) Evangeline often deals with this by merely dying a second time in a more painless way, making it so that the new death overwrites the first and its (minimal) pain replaces the previous one as well. It seems such technique is sometimes forbidden by her sister. (Also what they are referencing in question #12.)
Question #14 â Ev seems to be referring to a substance named pentobarbital, a type of fast-acting barbiturate, used in the process of painless euthanasia.]
First Evangeline drabble :D Nothing huge but I'm happy
-> Evangeline's masterlist
[CWs: Immortal whumpee (comes back from the dead type), lab whump, medical inaccuracy, probably, child whumpee, compliant whumpee, not graphic but explicit gore I think? + some slighttt dissociaton, needles and hospital setting and blood and vivisection the like, lmk if I missed anything.]
The blood gushed, sucked into the needle and pooling into the bag. Vivid, dense, and, despite what the one assistant to the back seemed to be hoping for, still red.
Ev swayed a little when they felt the sting of it going out, a little bead of blood poking out of the puncture, trying to leave as well. She felt dizzy. Dr. Var put the bag away, heavy and soft with all the liquid inside, noting down something on his clipboard. Reports to review later, maybe. She hadnât tried to peek at them since she was little.
âSecond load of genetic material,â a woman called. She wasnât new. Which didnât exactly mean that Evangeline remembered her name. In response, gloved hands approached and held their arms still, as if waiting for them to try and writhe away. They werenât a kid.
Their gownâthe new one, after Dr. Kevin ruined the last on Saturdayâhad its sleeves rolled up (something they could do on their own, but okay) to reveal the pale flesh underneath. Dr. Var was still on the back, unclipping a pen and labelling the blood pack theyâd drawn. Evangelineâs legs dangled from the ground as they felt the sting.
She didnât close her eyes. The pain, as always, just washed over them, retreating to the back of her mind. It wasnât nothing sheâd have to be restrained for. The one holding the scalpel halted, maybe in surprise. Which was kinda silly. Dr. Var had warned them, prior.
Sheâs used to it. Donât worry.
As the guy got himself together and started peeling a couple centimeters of skin from their arm, revealing the warm, throbbing flesh underneath, she couldnât help but feel a chill. The sterile air of the room always felt weird against that. The dizziness faded into nausea. Ev just stared at the ceiling.
Third load.
Hair didnât really hurt. She tried to keep still and restrain herself to only send a glare towards Var to remind him to not mess it up. Last time, Eliah had let her off and just told them to gather the strays from the hairdresser, but even she couldnât put it off forever. If it was Dr. Marcus, heâd give her a lollipop for the trouble. Oliver Varish wasnât Dr. Marcus, and that was precisely why Ev did not like him very much.
They did not say that, because they were polite.
At some point, theyâd tried strapping her down, which was a little rude. Dr. Var had the grace to just remind them it was unnecessary and ask her to lay down for a bit. She did, because she wasnât rude, but her opinion of his new team wasnât really going very well. To her luck, it wasnât often he was in charge of her. So she tried not to mind.
Fourth load.
They breathed in. Let their mind wander for that, for the fifth. Not long, she reminded herself. Huy was coming tonight. The cook said sheâd make pizza.
Sixth. Seventh. It was a little uncomfortable to have the bone meeting the chilly airâeverything meeting the chilly airâand when it happened, it stung. Ev had gotten good at not screaming. Her breath only hitched when she felt hands aroundâ
âDr. Var,â they called. âThe gag. Please.â
Someone startled at her voice. They didnât roll their eyes. The doctor perked up at her request, and he gestured at someone. Thankfully, there wasnât a lot of time left. She wouldâve played with the hem of her gown to wait, but movement made everything light up a little bit worse, so she kept her hands to her sides. They would probably have made a fuss if she did, anyways.
They bit their lip. He wouldnât get mad if they made noise. They just really, really, really didnât want to. It was going to get harder. She could tell.
The unpleasant, familiar feeling of the antiseptic-tasting leather settled itself between her teeth, and Ev adjusted its grip on her mouth. There. They relaxed a bit. The reaction sent a painful signal through the poor nerve endings on her exposed belly, but that was now taken care of. So.
They settled themself and allowed the deep, piercing agony to make its way through every inch of their flesh. It was damp and warm, not so damp and warm now that it didnât have the skin to protect it. Another bit of tissue was collected. They twitched. It was involuntary, and something they wished they hadnât done. Something choked came out of her throatâwhich was currently in one pieceâbut the gag did its job. Another pang came. The next gloves were stained with red.
They wouldâve made themself keep breathing for it, but then they reached it. Evangeline held itself still. It hit her. Stronger, constant, and someone went to remove the gag so they wouldnât choke on their own blood, but they shooed her off. It was already ending anyway. She didnât like choking, yes, but the alternative wasnât really that much different.
As it always did, it took a painfully long amount of time.
The vitals she had been ignoring faded out of her hearing, and the familiar cold settled in. The heaviness. Everything went away.
Everything but the hard table her back still met, the chill air making her skin and everything else tingle. And the pain. When she was little, it scared her. Not so much now. Not at all. You just had to remember that there was no moving now, remember to not panic. You just had to wait, swimming in the sea of unwavering pain, until you were dropped into nothing and released. You just had to remember that there was no breathing now, and no light. That it was gonna get over soon. You just just had to wait. And wait.
And wait.
Theyâd counted, once. A couple times, just to make sure. But not anymore. It lasted only a quarter of a minute. Not however long your failing mind tried to convince you it lasted. They had counted. They could tell. A quarter of a minute in this limbo, where she couldnât quite speak nor move nor hear, only feel and feel and feel, and then, blissful, it came.
If Evâs lungs had been working at that moment, she wouldâve let out a sigh of relief.
When she came back, her body was in one piece. She sucked in a breath, winced. Okay, that was loud. Maybe not that much in one piece. There was a very nauseating churning around her middle that told her not all the organs had gotten around to it yet. But it was fine. They could already move.
Andâthe light assaulted herâsee, too. The silence itched. Then they realized there was no hearing. Moving? That was all right. Evangeline rolled to their side.
The resting room. She didnât name the relief at the realization that they were doing just one round, today.
It was only a little disorientating, dulled by the familiar environment. They mustâve poked around her brain, maybe. She usually recovered senses before moving. This was gonna be weird.
They hoped their sense of taste wouldnât get fucked for too long.
The sun was already setting from the open window. Well. Not open. Evangeline had gotten their right to open windows revoked a few years ago. But the glass was clear. When she was steady enough to sit up, she stared at the sky head-on.
Orange. Soft.
Her cognition was a bit muddy, maybe.
The pain choked her, then. Evangeline was good at navigating itâit always, always was there when they came back, ready to greet themâbut at times, they slipped. She tried drawing a breath, but it was ravishing. Burning, piercing and sharp and dull all at the same time. Metal sinking into the organs inside. Tissue being grabbed and pulled. Not all of it was memories. Evangeline expelled a load of air. Air. Right. Her lungs were working by now. The lump constructing her throat was just a ghost. As everything was.
Though it was not like it mattered.
The orange had nearly faded into night when the door opened. Or maybe her vision wasnât really that great yet. The bracelet around her wrist, as always, alerted them to her waking up, but her ears werenât working to alert her of their presence. Heri, one of the nurses. He was moving his mouth, and their vision was just a bit blurry. That was less the ongoing healing and more the after-effect. They had quit moving. It was too overwhelming, right now. No sign of being able to listen to anything, Ev tried to gesture. He interrupted himself. If they tried to speak, they could feel the vibrations of their own voice in their skull, but couldnât really witness if the words would come as intended. Oh well. It should get the memo.
When she opened her eyes again, she was in the car. Somebody had dressed her. Evâs head slowly started pounding from the roar of the tires meeting street asphalt. Ah. So that was back.
âYou passed out,â a voice said from the seat just beside. Evangeline blinked, still battling the army of phantom pains for dominance and trying not to lose. She fell a little forward. The seatbelt had been strapped to her chest. Ev turned their head to look to the side.
Eli.
âOh,â they said. Her hair was tied up. They held their breath for a while. Slowly pushed it out. Not better, but itâd have to do. ââKay.â
âHuy is waiting,â she informed, not looking up from her tablet. Still working on something, always working on something. Ev didnât mind. Sheâd been across the state for the entire week. They missed looking at her face. âI heard your hearing hadnât come back? It seems to be working.â
They just mumbled something in way of yes. Eliah hummed, smiling. It was as if it took the pain away for a bit.
đżHello! Gen. question: I was wondering why do so many whumpers write about abuse on minors? Most of the content I see in the tag revolves around children being harmed by adults (i.e: slavery, kidnapping, inc*st stuff, etc.) I know you've mentioned before that it can be a form of exposure therapy to those who have experienced things like this in the past (exposure therapy is super helpful) but I see a lot of stories that just kinda come off as fetish content. (I hope this doesn't come across as a stupid question, I'm still new to the genre so I just wanna know what to look out for)
Ok so answering this question is going to call me out repeatedly so lets have funđ
I was a minor when most of my abuse happened so it's relatable. I was also abused as a young adult, so I also write YA whumpees.
One important message that whump fiction sends is "you did not deserve it." And it's easier to see that with a younger character.
Younger characters have a shorter history to write and fewer physical problems. They can bounce back from injuries quicker with fewer complications.
Specifically with rape: adults that have been raped often hear "why did you stay in that relationship?" "Why didn't you call the police?" When it's a child it's easier to start drawing those lines. They trusted the rapist, they were afraid to call the police, etc. and it still wasn't their fault.
Fetish content--Romance has the same issue. Basically, if the ultimate meaning in the book isn't conveyed properly, it looks like it's just smut. The meaning needs to be a strong recurring chord throughout the whole work (I think most writers pull this meaning to the forefront as they work through their 2nd draft--it's not always apparent when you're writing it the first time.)
Speaking of fetish and romance --think of how many books and movies feature underage protagonists in romantic relationships. But as long as the meaning of the book supercedes that, it doesn't matter, because the story is leading us through these relationships to reach this ultimate, important goal--communicating an abstract truth that could only be spoken through 60,000 words of fiction.
The truths whump authors are searching for are so deep that they require the most powerful, intense narrative tools to reach them. Good luck to us.
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yâknow what I want to see more of with whumpees?
Dissociation
like most of the Whump I see has whumpees who remember everything clearly and are always crying and shi.
but what abt whumpees who dissociate heavily? Whenever they were tortured or whatever they mentally checked out of the situation, their mind somewhere far away from the pain.
and this carries over to when theyâve been rescued. Say Caretaker accidentally triggers them and instead of crying their eyes glaze over, mind already somewhere far away where they canât be hurt
idk itâs just something interesting
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