the five hottest things a fictional man can be are 1. highly intelligent 2. terminally ill 3. emotionally unavailable 4. full of trauma and regrets 5. lying about their identity
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@whump-softie
the five hottest things a fictional man can be are 1. highly intelligent 2. terminally ill 3. emotionally unavailable 4. full of trauma and regrets 5. lying about their identity

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best kinds of characters either:
is/has been an active suicide risk
doesnât or cannot consider suicide a real option and so is left with an inarticulable feeling of circling the drain
After being rescued, Whumpee can't even laugh anymore.
Laughing is an automatic response. When it happens naturally, you can't really control it. It bursts out against your will, no matter how stoic you pretend to be.
Screaming in pain is also an automatic response. Experience enough pain, and the body releases sounds to try and relieve the anguish. It claws its way out, no matter how stoic you pretend to be.
And now that Whumpee is free from that, it's hard to let their body have an uncontrollable, natural response. Like laughing. Feels like losing control. Losing autonomy. Like they're right back in it again.
How cruel, to ruin even happiness. Even after it's all over.
mind controlled whumpee who is still fully conscious and aware of what theyâre doing, even as they are made to commit violent acts.
He was trained so well.
He doesnât flinch, doesnât speak, doesnât move, perfectly positioned just as heâd been told.
Standing in the corner of the living room, hands clasped behind his back, as life moves on around him.
Miss had tried to trick him, before. Patting the sofa seat next to her, an offer to sit down. Holding out a cup of tea, saying it was still warm. All these little temptations hadnât worked. He knew better, he was better.
He was safer, there in the corner of the room. His joints ached and his muscles burned but his mind could go blissfully blank. Most of the time.
But todayâŚ
Miss had a friend over. They were talking quietly in the front room, he couldnât hear what might be said but that wasnât his business anyway.
When they both walked into the room, he stiffened further, casting his eyes to the floor.
âDo you really thinkâŚ?â Miss whispered to her friend, and he hoped it wasnât anything to do with him, but when they both looked up, directly at him⌠that hope was gone.
âHoney?â
âYes Miss?â
âUm- I want you to come sit in the chair there. Go sit in that chair.â
She pointed to a big, squashy, luxuriously comfortable looking chair, diagonal from the couch.
His heart dropped, but he nodded. This was an order, no mistake about it. If he was punished for following an order, then- then it wasnât really about obedience then was it? And thereâd be nothing he could have done anyway.
He crossed the room, and carefully, carefully, sat down. It was harder, to be poised and keep his posture correct, if anything, it was more painful than standing, but he would do it.
Miss looked to her friend, mouth open slightly, as if shocked that he had obeyed. He felt faintly embarrassed, like he needed to prove now that he was obedient, this was just the first real order heâd been given.
âOkay,â she turned back to him, âNow, um⌠I want you to relax. Lean back, whatever is comfortable, please. Relax, thatâs an order.â
He had to hold back a wry smile at that. Authority didnât seem to come naturally to her, butâŚ
He tried, he really did, to relax. His back popped audibly as he leaned back, and both Miss and her friend raised their eyebrows, looking⌠worried?
It feltâŚunnatural. Vulnerable. To be sitting, ârelaxedâ, with them standing only a few yards away. He hoped they would sit down.
âGood. Good job, youâre doing great, thank you.â
Her voice was gentle, genuine, and now⌠oh.
Suddenly he was holding back tears. It had been⌠it had been so long since heâd been goodâŚ
Miss and her friend sat down, exchanging a look he didnât understand, and switched on the TV.
He was glad for that. He needed a moment, before he fell apart, a moment to fight back tears before they could fall and give him away.
A few minutes passed, and he had almost gotten it under control whenâŚ
Miss turned, face falling as they accidentally locked eyes.
âOh- Honey, Iâm sorry, I didnât mean to upset you-â her voice dropped with concern, and despite years of practice, he couldnât find the threat in it.
It felt real, and his logic couldnât fight that, or the tears that overcame all his restraint.
âSorry-â was all he could manage, before Miss was up and too close-
He flinched.
All his training was falling apart, even as he kept his hands at his sides, tense as a bowstring.
âNo, no donât be sorry, I-â she dropped to her knees beside his feet, looking back at her friend as if for help before looking back at him, âI was just trying to figure out what to do, how to help you⌠If you donât want to sit, you donât have to, you can stand, anything you want-â
Tears were forming in her own eyes, which confused him further.
From behind Miss, her friend stood up, coming over a few steps but still keeping a few feet between them.
That seemed to have a kind of effect on her, she looked over, taking a deep breath and wiping her eyes, then looked towards the ceiling for a moment.
She let out a breath, looking back at him. âIf thereâs something wrong, or uncomfortable, I want you to tell me.â
An order.
He swallowed hard, and answered truthfully. âThere is nothing wrong, Miss.â
âThen why- Please, tell me why youâre crying.â
That one was harder, it wouldnât be something she would understand, which would mean more questions, more opportunities for errorâŚ
âI am-â he choked for only a moment, âI am glad to be good.â

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Newly captured whumpee has been left in a locked room/basement/cell for a while when whumper opens the door, but they don't come in- they simply let carewhumper, whom whumpee has never seen before, enter and lock the door again.
Carewhumper does not speak, nor acknowledge anything whumpee says. They do not look them in the eye. They simply give them water, clean them up, check for and treat any injuries whumpee may have, and then lead whumpee to a chair and tie them to it. All the while, their touch is gentle. If whumpee refuses to move, carewhumper gently, wordlessly coaxes them to, never pulling harshly but never letting up either. If whumpee lashes out, carewhumper shields their body but does not retaliate (and they have no key or weapons on them). Maybe they are physically frail as well- regardless, whumpee cannot bring themselves to really harm them. Perhaps whumpee shouts, perhaps they plead, perhaps they speak calmly, but their words are ignored. And when they finally let carewhumper restrain them, be it after minutes or hours, carewhumper rewards them with a pat on the head.
And then they go to the door, and send a signal for whumper to return. Once the door is unlocked, carewhumper leaves without a backwards glance... and whumper steps in.
Conditioned, over-anxious whumpee being embarrassingly jealous of Caretakers dog. It had a bed and bowls for food and water and clear expectations, why couldnât Whumpee? Why did they have to play this mind game of âhow are you feeling?â and âwhat would you like?â? They would give up the bedroom, the dinners at the table, everything, just to let their mind relax, to follow orders, to not feel the constant dread of doing something wrong wrong wrong⌠To lay their head in caretakers lap, to be cooed at and praised and petted, they would give up so much just for a few minutes of peace.
Conditioned Whumpee kneeling in front of who they think is their new master, eyes squeezed tightly shut, expecting to be struck or worse.
But Caretaker has no idea what theyâre expecting or why theyâre doing this, so they kneel down too to meet them eye to eye.
When nothing happens for a moment, Whumpee dares to open their eyes, and blanks when they meet Caretakers.
Character A zoning out with a worried look stressing out and going quiet and Character B tilting their head to look at them with a soft smile and voice saying 'hey, where'd you go?' that's it that's the whole post I need a minute
"pathetic" is almost the hottest thing a man can be, second only to "in pain"

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Defiant whumpee who thinks that caretaker is their new master suddenly getting very sick or very hurt, and in their pain and desperation, they âcaveâ.
Crawling at caretakers feet like their old master would have wanted, head down and eyes full of tears and shame, pleading for help, promising that theyâd behave, please, please it hurtsâŚtheyâd do whatever they wanted, just make it stop, pleaseâŚ
Ooh, new thought, then they assume that the only reason Caretaker helps them, is so gentle and good to them, heals them, is because they gave in.
Now, not only are they struggling against fear to keep rebelling, but also the temptation that⌠it could be so easy. They could give in, give up, and be taken care of better than they ever had been. Was freedom really worth giving that up?
I really really appreciate the words âwhumperâ and âwhumpeeâ for their ability to change a scene due to their intrinsic meaning. âwhumperâ will always mean âthe one who causes harmâ and âwhumpeeâ will always mean âthe one who is harmedâ. Because of this, simply using the words at all will provide some level of context and understanding to the reader. A short scene that is only fluff will take on an entirely new meaning when âwhumperâ and âwhumpeeâ are used, rather than normal names. Suddenly, even if the scene has nothing to imply an underlying level of abuse or manipulation, without the author having to state anything about the relationship between the two characters, the context of abuse is known to the reader. It can change a happy, normal scene to a scene that only appears happy and normal due to whumpee being manipulated, conditioned, etc. Itâs such a fascinating way of providing information that has developed within the whump community.
Whumpee with Midas powers (everything they touch turns to gold).
Whumper hand-makes golden gloves for them to wear 24/7. Theyâre gorgeous, but uncomfortable.
Whumper has Whumpee touch something when they want to make some money. Or for decoration. Or just when they want to see Whumpeeâs power in action.
Whumpee accidentally touches something, and Whumper is furious that they used their power without permission. Whumper is the only one who decides what is or isnât gold.
Whumper has Whumpee touch the torture instruments before theyâre used. The knives glitter brilliantly, but hurt just the same.
Whumpee canât eat with their hands, so Whumper feeds them leftovers in a doggy bowl, forcing them to eat on their hands and knees, face-deep.
Inspired by this song.
Immortal Whumpee that has seen multiple generations of Whumpers live and die.
Whumpee was young when he was captured, sure, but as the years went on, it stopped seeming like a prison and more of just... his life.
The first Whumper was kind. She was gentle where it mattered and handed out numerous rewards and gifts. She was Whumpee's favorite, he thinks.
The rest? They only got meaner and meaner. Crueler in their adjustments, more disgusting in their taste in punishments.
Whumpee forgot how long it was. He thinks he kept track in the beginning, but the years wore on, and he started tracking in generations instead. He doesn't even want to think about the number.
Best place for a whumpee to be: jail cell separate from but visible to a friend.
Medic and whumpee captured together, medic desperately trying to walk Whumpee through first aid before they pass out from blood loss, unable to get to them.
Leader whumpee getting beat to shit in clear view of their team and none of them can help.
Rivals/enemies captured together, watching the other get hurt and realizing in the worst way possible that some part of them cares for the other.
Holding hands through the bars.
Blood going cold when the other hand goes limp.

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Fairy Whumpee has one thing in this world, and thatâs their freedom. It has been stolen from them in the form of Human Whumper, who has hacked off one of their wings and uses it against them.
Fairy wings are their very life force, and any sort of pressure or man-handling, affects Whumpee.
The lightest, delicate touch is a godsend. But Whumper never uses that little restraint. They will crush, and rip, and squeeze Whumpeeâs wing until there isnât much left of it.
It feels like their heart is being plucked from Whumpeeâs chest. It is like their limbs are being pulled every which way, painfully contorting them into something unrecognizable.
Of course, it has no physical effect on Whumpee besides pain. There are no marks, no bruising or scratches on their delicate skin.
Whumper revels in this. Silently crushing the wing in their hand, they watch Whumpee writhe in agony beneath them.
Whumper giving mixed signals.
They're completely genuine while saying all of this:
"Don't eat that. It has ---. Aren't you allergic to that?"
"Sorry, I don't have that fruit you like. I'll get it next time."
"Isn't that guy the one who constantly insults you? That's not a good friend. Just sayin'."
"You'll start hallucinating soon if you keep staying awake. Do you really want to make this worse for yourself?"
"Do you like this book? You referenced a character from it last week."
But, at the same time, they're also so very cruel when hurting Whumpee:
"Woops, were you already hurt there? You sounded so good though. I'm going to do it again."
"Wow, that's a new record. You've never screamed that loud before."
"Hey, hey. Don't pass out. We're not done yet."
"You're scared of fire, right? I'm going to help you get over it today. It doesn't even hurt that much."
"Sorry for not visiting you for a week. I forgot you were here."
Bonus points if Whumper is aware of their hypocrisy, but is so morally and emotionally detached from what they do that they don't even care.