by June
Editor’s Note: this article was first published by June on Tumblr. It was perfect for Wince, I thought, and so I dropped June a line to ask if we could publish it. They agreed, on the condition of adding an addendum.
Mind control might be one of my favorite kinds of whump, both to read and to write, and over time I’ve realized something about making this trope work:
It doesn’t matter what the mind control is (magic, sci-fi tech, drugs, superpowers, etc) so much as how it works.
That is, what exactly is happening to the whumpee?
There isn’t really a “wrong way” to do mind control, but different kinds make more sense for different settings and tones, and will evoke different feelings for the reader. And if it’s written inconsistently, it can kill all of that.
So, here’s my guide to writing good mind control whump—specifically, figuring out what works best for your story and how to use it.
(Note: There’s an exception to just about everything. If you can make it work, then do it.)
The Basic Categories
Regardless of story setting (and thus things like magic vs. tech and whatnot—I’ll be calling these methods), any mind control whumpee is gonna roughly fall into one of four categories, based on how the mind control affects their consciousness (for short, I’ll call these types.) These are almost more of a continuum, however, and you may find ways to combine and mix them. No one type is “better” than any other, but certain ones will be better for certain stories.
Marionette: Not mind control per se. Debatably. The marionette remains completely conscious and stays their normal self, but their body is being moved against their will. Usually they can still talk and express emotion normally. At its worst, it’s cumbersome and more like comic relief, but if used carefully, you can really freak out your whumpee this way.
Observer: A step up from Marionette. Unlike the previous type, Observers can’t give away or communicate that they’re being controlled. They’ll act and talk as they’re commanded to, but deep down they’re aware of what’s happening—observing their actions but powerless to stop them. This one can lead to a lot of good emotional whump (either through 1st POV or in the aftermath), but if scary and shocking is what you’re going for, it may fall flat.
Blank Slate: This time, the whumpee is completely unaware of what’s happening while they’re being controlled. There’s a good bit of room for variation here—are they completely unconscious, or just really out of it? Do they seem normal in their actions, talking and everything, or almost robotic, just doing what they’re told? Sometimes this type feels expected or even cliché, but some attention to detail is all you need to really make it pop.
Never Been Better: This may or may not be my personal favorite. The whumpee is conscious, but they’re not quite themselves—their mind has been warped not just to do what they’re told, but to love it. You can really go wild with describing the thought processes here, ranging from general dazedness to subtle shifts in how the whumpee views their controller and friends to full-on overwhelming euphoria when they do as they’re told. This one can get a little OP, and lends itself to certain clichés, but it’s also one of the most frightening for the whumpee, their friends, and the reader.
Again, some of these categories mesh well—a Blank Slate Marionette would have its own distinct feel—while some are incompatible—the whole point of having an Observer character falls apart if you throw in some Never Been Better. There are also method limitations: Magic and tech can do about all of these, but if you wanna drug your character, Marionette and probably Observer are off the table. But there are further elements to be considered:
Can the whumpee fight back?
In terms of the basic types, the answer is always “hypothetically, yes, unless they’re not strong enough or there’s some other reason they can’t.” In this case, you’ll have to turn to the actual method—magic can be resisted through willpower, drugs cannot.
That being said, the categories are still helpful when considering if/how your character will fight back, and if/when they’ll give in.
Marionette: Unless you’re trying to be funny, the Marionette will probably be putting up a constant fight. They might pass out from exhaustion, but if they can try and get control over their body back, they will. The question is not so much “what will overpower the whumpee and make them give in?” and more “what will overpower the whumper and break the control at least a little?” If your whumpee has a strong enough will, they can start to gain at least some control over their body, though this can result in a struggle that’ll put physical strain on the whumpee (not that that’s something to be avoided per se…) Basically, the contest of wills has a slightly different dynamic, because unless you have a really good reason, the whumpee shouldn’t ever just give in to this type.
Observer: This type’s efficacy (that is, does it incite the feels?) is all about powerlessness. Odds are your whumpee can’t fight back on this type when it’s initially done to them—the mind doesn’t really need to be coerced into cooperating, it just needs to be pushed aside a little so the whumper’s will can keep it there. Because the act of initiating this mind control is relatively quick and not really a whole process (though there may be an exception or two), the actual fighting usually takes place once the damage is done, and the whumpee is struggling to get out. At that point, you just have to decide if they’re strong enough to do that—though keep in mind that it’s usually more satisfying to at least let them do something of consequence before they break free (in fact, the cognitive dissonance that comes with doing that action might be what lets them break out…)
Blank Slate: In the previous two categories, the battle of wills takes place once the control has set in, because it tends to set in quickly and fairly easily, and the whumpee is still fully conscious. With Blank Slate and Never Been Better, neither of those are true, so any fighting back is going to be about keeping the mind control from setting in at all. There’s a threshold, and once it gets crossed, there’s no turning back. In the case of the Blank Slate, it’s usually not a struggle against any specific command—it’s just a struggle to stay awake. Depending on the method, they may or may not be able to, but in any case, it’s always fun to watch them put up a good fight—or to watch them helplessly pass out under the whumper’s power. Your call.
Never Been Better: This type is similar to Blank Slate in terms of fighting back, as mentioned before, but now there’s an added level of temptation. The whumpee is no longer just fighting their controller—they’re fighting themselves. Now, if your whumper is skilled enough, there may be no struggle at all (we’ll get to that later). But if you do have them fight, keep in mind that nagging feeling that’s telling the whumpee to just surrender, wouldn’t that be nice, no need to worry, you’re totally safe… it adds a whole new dimension to the struggle—how long it takes, how hard it is, how late the whumpee even catches on that they’re being controlled, how this affects the whumpee afterwards, etc.
Should the whumpee fight back?
In those last two types, I mentioned the option of there being no battle of wills at all. With the other types, something like this can work as well; maybe they want to fight back, but no matter how they try, they just can’t. These scenarios work really well, but only depending on the role that hope plays in your story.
Sometimes you want to encourage hope. Sometimes you want the reader to root for your character and cross their fingers that they make it out alright. So you center the focus of the story on that goal. You can always crush that hope later, but you’ve still made it easily available. And there’s value in doing that.
But sometimes you don’t want to.
Sometimes, in your story, you want to make hope feel out of reach. Knowing, of course, that the reader will still hope for things to turn out ok. There never comes a point where things are 100% hopeless (and there shouldn’t), but there does come a point where it sinks in—this is a dangerous place. Things have consequences. Things can go terribly, terribly wrong.
When the whumpee fights a valiant fight against their controller, doing everything they can to stay free, that’s one thing. When that same whumpee suddenly drops the tension in their shoulders and smiles, half calmly and half menacingly, that’s another.
Terror is the fear of what’s going to happen. Horror is the fear of what’s already happened. Which do you want to evoke?
What makes the whumpee cross that threshold?
We’ve talked a little about the point where a struggling whumpee can’t keep it up any longer and gives in to the mind control. Often in stories, that threshold is crossed once the whumper has been persistent enough and the scene can’t be dragged on any longer. But consider adding a little more impact to that point by asking yourself what would push your whumpee over that edge.
What’s the one thing they dread hearing about themselves the most? The thing they “know” is true but hate to admit? Could it be used against them, to weaken their morale?
What would convince them to cross the threshold? What could you promise them that would make them give up control? What could you say to make them believe they‘re not giving anything up at all?
Answering questions like these also adds some good ol’ character development to your story—two birds with one stone.
Are the whumpee’s friends involved?
There’s a whole bunch of potential extra whump if friends are involved, and this post is getting pretty long, so I’ll just sum things up: Marionette is the least emotional—it can get emotional if you try hard enough, but not a whole lot of tugging at the heartstrings here. All the other types can lead to that classic dissonance between the whumpee and their friends that we’re all here for, just in different ways. The Observer’s friendships could end up with the most long-lasting damage, because they act the most normal while being controlled, and unless the whumper slips up and makes them behave in a way they normally wouldn’t, the whumpee will have a lot of explaining to do—and there will be angst. The Blank Slate usually doesn’t cause this kind of confusion (although it can if you play your cards a little atypically); the emotional whump will come from what harm your whumpee deals out to their friends, and the uncaringness with which they do it. The Never Been Better is in a similar boat, but with more ambiguity regarding whether or not it seems like mind control (thus possibly hurting the friendship ifs the friend doesn’t know what’s going on) and even more guilt on the whumpee’s part for what they did.
How do I do the scary?
This is the hard part—you’ve got everything worked out in your head, but on paper it sounds cheesy or unimpactful. There are a few ways to address this. As you’re writing, if something strikes you as particularly cliché, make a note of it, then try changing the words but keeping the same core meaning. Usually the wording, not the sentiment behind the wording, is the problem. “Your will is mine” can become “You don’t have to want anything anymore. I can do that for you.”
Which brings me to another tip: d e t a i l s. If what you’re writing sounds flat or uninteresting, odds are the problem is in depth of description. Obviously you don’t want to go overboard, but don’t gloss over anything either. Add some in-depth looks at how the whumpee feels, what they’re thinking, or how it all looks to an outside observer.
So… that’s about all I’ve got for now. TLDR: Plan a little before you whump, so you can avoid weird contradictory clichés and really up the tears and fears potential (new whump synonym right there). Thanks for reading!
ADDENDUM
Hi! Junebug here again. Looking back on this guide, I think there are things I could have explained better or things I would now change, so here’s my addendum, over one year later:
First off, I got really invested in this idea of the different types as I was writing this, and I’d bring home the point now that this isn’t meant to be a comprehensive system or anything. Yes, these are probably the most common major categories of mind control in fiction, but feel more than free to mix these up and do weird things with them, or come up with new types entirely.
Going off of the different kinds of “battles of wills” that go along with the different types, I’d isolate that from the type system and make it its own point: what’s the dynamic between the whumper and whumpee here? What themes do you want, and what particular flavor of mind control would mesh best with them?
Do you have a defiant whumpee who’ll push themselves to their absolute mental limit to stay in control? Then think about how you can show the reader that fight. Perhaps through the panic and anger that’s still showing on their face even as their body slowly starts moving against their will, hands shaking as the whumpee tries to pull them back? Or maybe through the frantic internal dialogue of trying to resist the temptation of an enchantment spell that keeps growing stronger… Maybe their mental exertion takes a serious toll on them later, something you could use in a scene with a caretaker later on—or in a scene with the whumper, trying to reason with the whumpee, convince them that all their effort to fight back is just going to make things more painful…
Is your story focusing more on the whumper’s power? Then think about how you want to demonstrate that power. With a slow, subtle, almost hypnotic breaking down of the whumpee’s initial convictions, bringing them to their side bit by bit to where they hardly notice they’ve been brought under the mind control until it’s over? With something much faster, much more sudden, a tsking of the tongue and a nonchalant snap of the fingers that knocks the ordinarily strong and stoic whumpee right out when both they and the reader least expect it—and then the subsequent shock of the whumpee then opening their eyes, able to act but clearly unaware of it?
Is this meant to be a tug-on-the-reader’s-heartstrings story? Then find ways to show the whumpee’s perspective. Maybe keep them fully aware, but unable not only to control their actions, but to communicate in any way that they’re not in control. Keep them trapped inside their own mind, and let all the fun angst bubble up there—especially once they finally regain control and see, perhaps, someone close to them looking at them in horror at what they’ve done to the people they care about.
I could go on. Find the dynamic or theme you want, and then think about what’ll best serve it.
I spent most of the original guide talking about the mind control itself, but less than I would’ve liked talking about the actual writing. In some ways, getting a solid sense of those themes will help a lot in the long run, but sometimes it’s just tricky to do the scary right.
Find the dynamic or theme you want, and then think about what’ll best serve it.
If you’re writing from the whumpee’s point of view, which can be really fun for situations where the character is aware (and especially if their mind is still getting hella warped), there’s a fairly simple trick I use. Not just for things like this, by the way, but for any experience or emotion you’re having trouble describing the feeling of. And that is: imagine the scene from that character’s point of view and really try to get immersed in the scene, to the point where you can almost start to feel yourself what it would feel like for the character. That always helps me to find the right words.
From a story I wrote inspired by a comment on that original guide:
“She looked up and met Marshall’s eyes. That was all it took for the spell to hit, and it hit fast—a sinking feeling in her body, a floating feeling in her head. And then the sudden shock of what felt like a door being slammed shut between the two. The tensions in her chest unraveled all at once.”
I’d struggled for quite some time to find the right words for what I had in mind, and I had to run through those few seconds of a scene some 20-odd times before I figured out what it was exactly that I wanted to describe—a feeling that was both heavy and floaty, then a sudden impact when the spell took its effect, then a general feeling of relaxing and settling into the spell. And I got there by taking some time with that scene, trying to really tune into what it would feel like.
Sometimes, of course, it’s enough to say something like “it felt… off.” If the focus of your story (or the method of mind control you’ve chosen) doesn’t revolve so much around the physical or emotional feelings and you feel it’d be best to tell and not show them, putting a focus on the whumpee’s thoughts can fill the same role. Fear, exhaustion, disbelief, temptation, the space between waking and sleeping—again, step into that character’s shoes a bit and think about what they might be telling themselves.
Now, if it’s the whumper’s point of view, and you still wanna keep the horror of the mind control as the central point, then think about what you can describe physically and use that as a jumping-off point for other things. So the whumpee’s afraid—what does their expression look like? What’s the look in their eyes? Is it a pleading look, or a look of sudden realization, or are their eyes darting around for an escape? Are they frozen still? Shuddering? What if this is a “Never Been Better” type of mind control—what does it look like when that look of fear slowly, almost unnaturally, becomes one of sleepiness, or enjoyment?
And how does the whumper respond to it? Is this something they’re used to, and so they find the whumpee’s enthusiasm pathetic, maybe even boring? Are they relishing in the moment of success, as their new technique to control the mind has finally worked just as planned? I recall a favorite story of mine by @the-modern-typewriter in which the whumper was driven largely by feelings of anger and betrayal, and in an add-on by @coppercreationcreator those feelings turned into regret and fear. There’s a lot of potential stuff to work with.
I’ll close this out with one final tip: If you’re really interested in and passionate about writing this kind of whump, or any kind of whump, or really any kind of story, think about where that passion comes from, and how others can relate to it.
Things messing with the mind has been my biggest fear since I was young, and the way horror movie buffs are about horror movies, I am about stories with mind control or enchantments or manipulation or what have you. But someone who doesn’t have the same interest can still relate to, say, a fear of the inevitable. Or a fear of losing the trust of others. Or of losing one’s own trust in what they can perceive. Or maybe a desire to let one’s guard down in a world that makes that seem far too dangerous, to let go and feel something intense, or to just not have to worry about anything.
Find what about this really, truly *does* it for you, and always keep that with you as you write.
I think that’s more or less all I have to say! I hope this helps—best of luck in all your whumpy endeavors ^^
About the Author: June (she/they), who also goes by Junebug and Weasel on their Tumblr blog @whump-goes-the-weasel, is a writer and worldbuilder with a love for all sorts of tug-at-the-heartstrings whump. While she may enjoy making her characters suffer, she enjoys sharing appreciation and advice with the online whump community just as much.
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