willowtreewhump

[willowtreewhump]

10 Flaws to Give Your Perfect Characters to Make Them Human

If you're tired of the usual vices like arrogance or impatience, here are some unique (or at least less basic) character flaws to give your perfect characters: 

Pathological Altruism

A character so obsessed with helping others that they end up doing more harm than good. Their inability to let others grow or face consequences creates tension.

2. Moral Narcissism

A character who sees themselves as morally superior to others, constantly justifying selfish or harmful actions because they believe they have the moral high ground.

3. Chronic Self-Sabotage

A character who intentionally undermines their own success, perhaps due to deep-seated feelings of unworthiness, pushing them into frustrating, cyclical failures.

4. Emotional Numbness

Rather than feeling too much, this character feels too little. Their lack of emotional response to critical moments creates isolation and makes it difficult for them to connect with others.

5. Fixation on Legacy

This character is obsessed with how they’ll be remembered after death, often sacrificing present relationships and happiness for a future that’s uncertain.

6. Fear of Irrelevance

A character-driven by the fear that they no longer matter, constantly seeking validation or pursuing extreme measures to stay important in their social or professional circles.

7. Addiction to Novelty

Someone who needs constant newness in their life, whether it’s experiences, relationships, or goals. They may abandon projects, people, or causes once the excitement fades, leaving destruction in their wake.

8. Compulsive Truth-Telling

A character who refuses to lie, even in situations where a lie or omission would be the kinder or more pragmatic choice. This flaw causes unnecessary conflict and social alienation.

9. Over-Identification with Others' Pain

Instead of empathy, this character feels others' pain too intensely, to the point that they can’t function properly in their own life. They’re paralyzed by the suffering of others and fail to act effectively.

10. Reluctant Power

A character who fears their own strength, talent, or influence and is constantly trying to shrink themselves to avoid the responsibility or consequences of wielding it.

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks? 

Looking for writing tips and tricks to better your manuscript? Check out the rest of Quillology with Haya; a blog dedicated to writing and publishing tips for authors! Instagram Tiktok

PS: This is my first short-form blog post! Lmk if you liked it and want to see more (I already have them scheduled you don't have a choice)

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Whump community Reblog if you hate AI

it ruins the whole point of art

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dug this indulgent thing out of my folders and knocked the dust off of it till it was presentable

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10 Quiet Ways Your Character Is Breaking Their Own Heart (And Pretending It's Fine)

These are the betrayals that aren’t loud. They don’t come with fireworks or screaming matches. These are the small, slow deaths. The ones that your character lets happen... while smiling politely.

» They say yes when they desperately want to say no. Every. Damn. Time. They show up when they're exhausted. They agree to things they hate. They make themselves smaller, softer, easier, because "good people" don’t make waves, right? (Spoiler: they're drowning.)

» They keep chasing people who only love them halfway. It's not even subtle anymore. They know these people leave them on "read," show up late, make them feel like an afterthought. But they cling anyway, spinning every scrap of affection into a story about hope. (It’s not hope. It’s hunger.)

» They refuse to believe good things are meant for them. They’ll hype everyone else up. They’ll believe in everyone else's dreams. But when something finally good lands in their lap? They’ll panic. Push it away. Tell themselves it was a fluke. (Because being disappointed feels safer than being lucky.)

» They’re waiting for closure that will never come. An apology. An explanation. A miracle where someone says, "You were right, and I was wrong, and I’m so sorry." They wait years. Decades. Lifetimes. But deep down, they know: some people never come back. Some stories just end without punctuation.

» They’re hoarding all their "almosts" like treasures. The job they almost got. The love that almost worked. The version of themselves they almost became. They replay those maybes like a greatest hits album. (Meanwhile, real life is slipping by while they mourn possibilities.)

» They’re performing a version of success they secretly hate. Look at the Instagram. Look at the LinkedIn updates. Look at the shiny exterior. It looks like winning. But every trophy they collect feels heavier, not lighter. Every promotion tastes a little more like ash. (Turns out, chasing someone else's dream is still losing.)

» They forgive people who aren’t sorry. Not because they’re enlightened. Not because they’ve healed. But because it’s easier to pretend it didn’t hurt than to sit with the fact that it did—and that the person responsible doesn't care. (Some wounds scar better when you stop pretending they were accidents.)

» They punish themselves for still being soft. The world told them, again and again, that soft things get broken. And they believed it. So every time they feel too much? Every time they cry or hope or trust? They tell themselves they’re weak. Stupid. Embarrassing. (They're not. They're just still alive.)

» They downplay their own magic. They call their talents "lucky breaks." Their beauty "average." Their intelligence "no big deal." They shrug off compliments like they're dangerous. Because deep down, they've been taught that being remarkable makes you a target.

» They cling to the idea that if they just work harder, they'll finally be enough. They believe in meritocracy like it’s a religion. That if they hustle hard enough, self-sacrifice deep enough, burn themselves to ash perfectly enough, someone, somewhere, will finally say, "You're worthy now." (They were always worthy. The system is just broken.)

[willowtreewhump]

10 Lies Your Character Believes About Themselves (And They’d Die Before Admitting It)

These aren't the fun, Disney Channel lies like “I'm just a regular girl” while literally being a secret pop star. These are the ugly ones. The ones that get in your character’s blood and start rewriting their whole life without them noticing.

» “If people really knew me, they'd leave.” Not "might." Would. No question. So they smile bigger. They edit harder. They keep conversations surface-level. All while carrying this bone-deep certainty that love is conditional... and they are dangerously close to failing the test.

» “I have to earn every good thing.” Rest? Happiness? A day without guilt? They treat those things like prizes at the end of a brutal obstacle course. No one told them they could just have good things. No strings. No blood price. (So they keep bleeding anyway.)

» “I'm too much.” Too loud. Too intense. Too sensitive. Too complicated. They know it. They've been told. So now they pull themselves in, hold their breath, bite back everything real until they barely take up space at all. (And ironically, they still think they’re being "too much.")

» “I'm not enough.” Neat little trick, right? They’re both "too much" and "not enough" at the same time. Magic. They're convinced everyone else got the secret manual for how to be lovable and they somehow missed it.

» “If I'm strong enough, nothing can hurt me.” They call it resilience. Other people call it stubbornness. Reality calls it self-destruction. They've mistaken numbness for healing and independence for invulnerability. But hurt still gets in. It just hits harder when it’s been bottled up for years.

» “I’m responsible for everyone's happiness.” Caretaker. Peacemaker. Therapist friend. Emotional sponge. They’ve appointed themselves as everyone's safety net, believing that if they don’t hold everything together, everything will fall apart. (Newsflash: it's not their circus, and it never was.)

» “I don't need anyone.” Need is a dirty word. It’s weak. It’s dangerous. So they white-knuckle their way through life, collecting scars and pretending it’s freedom. But late at night? In the dark? They’d sell their soul for someone to just... stay.

» “I'm the villain in someone else's story and they might be right.” They know they've hurt people. Made bad calls. Left damage. And no matter how much good they do now, some part of them whispers, You don’t get to come back from that.

» “My best days are behind me.” Whether they peaked in high school, lost their shot at something important, or just carry a chronic ache of nostalgia, they believe it’s too late. That nothing good can be built from where they are now. (Which, ironically, makes them waste even more time.)

» “This is as good as it gets.” They settle. For bad love. Boring jobs. Half-dead dreams. They tell themselves it's "realistic." "Mature." "Practical." But underneath? It's fear. It's heartbreak. It's the quiet belief that hope is something they can’t afford anymore.

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Unhealed Wounds Your Character Pretends Are Just “Personality Traits”

These are the things your character claims are just “how they are” but really, they’re bleeding all over everyone and calling it a vibe.

╰ They say they're "independent." Translation: They don’t trust anyone to stay. They learned early that needing people = disappointment. So now they call it “being self-sufficient” like it’s some shiny badge of honor. (Mostly to cover up how lonely they are.)

╰ They say they're "laid-back." Translation: They stopped believing their wants mattered. They'll eat anywhere. Do anything. Agree with everyone. Not because they're chill, but because the fight got beaten out of them a long time ago.

╰ They say they're "a perfectionist." Translation: They believe mistakes make them unlovable. Every typo. Every bad hair day. Every misstep feels like proof that they’re worthless. So they polish and polish and polish... until there’s nothing real left.

╰ They say they're "private." Translation: They’re terrified of being judged—or worse, pitied. Walls on walls on walls. They joke about being “mysterious” while desperately hoping no one gets close enough to see the mess behind the curtain.

╰ They say they're "ambitious." Translation: They think achieving enough will finally make the emptiness go away. If they can just get the promotion, the award, the validation—then maybe they’ll finally outrun the feeling that they’re fundamentally broken. (It never works.)

╰ They say they're "good at moving on." Translation: They’re world-class at repression. They’ll cut people out. Bury heartbreak. Pretend it never happened. And then wonder why they wake up at 3 a.m. feeling like they're suffocating.

╰ They say they're "logical." Translation: They’re terrified of their own feelings. Emotions? Messy. Dangerous. Uncontrollable. So they intellectualize everything to avoid feeling anything real. They call it rationality. (It's fear.)

╰ They say they're "loyal to a fault." Translation: They mistake abandonment for loyalty. They stay too long. Forgive too much. Invest in people who treat them like an afterthought, because they think walking away makes them "just as bad."

╰ They say they're "resilient." Translation: They don't know how to ask for help without feeling like a burden. They wear every bruise like a trophy. They survive things they should never have had to survive. And they call it strength. (But really? It's exhaustion wearing a cape.)

[willowtreewhump]

one thing i never really appreciated about whipping is how you are very literally unable to take care of it yourself afterwards. someone else has to treat it for you because you physically cannot reach it. i just think thats neat.

[willowtreewhump]

Even after finally escaping the whumper, and even after being reassured countless times that they’d be safe, the whumpee still couldn’t help but go back to old habits. The whumpee would suddenly become silent, would hide in small spaces, or cry if anyone spoke too loudly. The whumpee couldn’t help it, but they hated the reminder that they were, in their own eyes, broken.

[willowtreewhump]

a character who isn't used to being cared for or treated kindly being gently and tenderly cared for for the first time in years or maybe ever. save me

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I want to write a book called “your character dies in the woods” that details all the pitfalls and dangers of being out on the road & in the wild for people without outdoors/wilderness experience bc I cannot keep reading narratives brush over life threatening conditions like nothing is happening.

I just read a book by one of my favorite authors whose plots are essentially airtight, but the MC was walking on a country road on a cold winter night and she was knocked down and fell into a drainage ditch covered in ice, broke through and got covered in icy mud and water.

Then she had a “miserable” 3 more miles to walk to the inn.

Babes she would not MAKE it to that inn.

[willowtreewhump]

As someone with a few years experience in martial arts with sparring, I would like to explain some

Realistic reactions to being struck

Punched in the gut:

yelp of pain--like "ah!" And then a groan like "ohh" as the nausea hits

Curl protectively over their gut

Arms out to stop any incoming punches

After expelling air from the impact, they may not be able to breathe in. They may just lose some of their wind, or all of it.

If whumpee is trained (or used to it!) they may know to breathe out a little on impact, softening the blow and reducing the amount of air they lose

It hurts, so victim is going to be at least grimacing and guarding their stomach

Losing your wind is disorienting and panic-inducing, even for someone with training

A hard enough punch may be enough to drop whumpee, especially if: they are skinny (less padding), their body is trying to conserve oxygen (like they lost ALL their wind at once), they are panicked/outmatched (to protect themselves), or they're going to puke

Puking can also happen a bit afterward

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woah this character is so cool i wish they were covered in blood their whole body trembling with a look of absolute horror on their face as theyre struggling to breathe in panic

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Once again, for the umpteenth time, whumpees with fevers:

Whumpees feeling a little shivery and worn out, not thinking anything of it

Whumpees growing more restless as their mind races relentlessly, trying to figure out why they can't get to sleep let along think straight

Whumpees feeling colder than ever all of a sudden, despite the burning just under their skin

Whumpees finally managing to sleep, but their rest is disturbed by rambling and terrifying dreams

Whumpees waking up much later than intended, with a parched throat and aching joints, so tired and shaky they can barely sit up on their own, let alone stand

Whumpees with sore, burning eyes, lymph nodes tender and swollen

Whumpees' vision swimming, growing dizzier and more lightheaded as the fever gets higher

Whumpees with chattering teeth, unable to stop shaking under a mound of blankets

Whumpee unable to eat but so, so desperately thirsty

Whumpees having to keep a light on through the night because the dark plays tricks on their feverish brain

Whumpees waking up not knowing where they are, feeling like the whole room is swaying around them, their bed shrinking and expanding, everything happening too much

Whumpees having to shakily change shirts because they're drenched in sweat (and leaving the old one on the floor by their bed because they're too weak to fold it)

[willowtreewhump]

not doomed by the narrative but saved by the narrative. yeah i know you'd rather die than keep suffering but the story doesn't actually care what you want. you have to keep going, even when it hurts. even being erased from existence won't stop you from being salvaged from the wreckage of un-being. get up. keep pushing. keep bleeding. keep living.

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Chosen One Whump

You're exhausted, you're not recovered from your wounds, but you have to go and fight the latest threat anyway. You're the only one who can.

You disguise yourself, making yourself seem as small and ordinary and nonthreatening as possible, so that people don't recognize you, because the hero worship feels so uncomfortable.

Your sworn companions are the only ones who treat you remotely like a human, but even so, you can see the distance and fear in their eyes when you return to them soaked in blood.

You're used to hard travel, long days walking or riding, short nights sleeping in a bedroll on cold, damp ground, taking shifts to watch for threats.

The people in the city who take you for granted, laughing about how threats will never touch them, not with you to protect them.

Worse, the people who whisper behind your back about how you're not doing enough.

The smartest and most cunning of your companions has a plan in place to defeat you if you're ever corrupted into evil. You smile and nod, knowing it wouldn't work. You would crush all of them like ants under your boot. You suspect that your companion knows it, too.

The healing magic drains you, leaving you feeling like a hollow shell, but you have no choice but to use it. Healing your wounds the normal way would leave the city vulnerable for too long. You feel as if your body is barely stitched together by magic.

You must attend meetings and balls and diplomatic events, awkward in uncomfortable formal clothes. You're there as a weapon, as a threat, and everyone knows it.

Every two-bit villain and their lackeys wants to kill you. You can't go anywhere without the threat of assassins in the dark and poison in your food and drink.

You've nearly died so many times, and each time the threat of death is more of a relief. You don't want to think about what that means. If you die, everyone else will too.

Your sleep is full of nightmares of all the things you've seen and done. Even in sleep you can't get a respite from fighting.

vaguely inspired by FFXIV

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tenderness