Put The Hurt In Hurting

A whump blog where I deal hurt. Sometimes I deal comfort.

[workinthehurtin]

"Now do you understand what happens when you don't do as I say? Oh, don't cry, pet. You brought this on yourself. If you'd just do as I tell you, you would be good. You want to be good, don't you?"

"Y-yes."

[workinthehurtin]

I've started work on my whump fic (only like 300 words so far) and whenever I feel like I'm losing my grasp on inspiration I just read the poem Invictus by Wiliam Ernest Henley

[workinthehurtin]

Question aimed mainly at those in the TF fandom: who would make a good torturer? Obviously Vortex is an option but he's just on the wrong side of fucked up that I'm too scared to use him, and Shockwave isn't an option– this is my TFA Sentinel Prime whump fic but I am 100% willing to pull baddies from other continuities

[workinthehurtin]

Hey, was just wondering. are you still taking suggestions to break a character? I have another idea but it's mostly psychological than physical. And i don't know if i should reblog again coz that might bother you.. and it's also more plot heavy than can be freely added to something and i really dont know.

I am always taking suggestions for this: please, tell me more.

[code-dy]

Uh, okay so- A scene where Character X’s abuser, Y gets into a crash/accident/something and gets their memories wiped. Clichè, I know but listen, what’s more of a slap in the face to the victim than giving the villain a clean fresh start? Especially if no one knew what happened to the victim?

Everyone would care for Y and ask X to help them because they’d been in an accident, X, and you two were really close, right?

X being confronted with a good Y wondering if all the things X went through were even real and the only one who could confirm that everything did happen is looking up at them for guidance. X flinching from a hug from Y and trying to play it off as something else. Y asking to go to certain places that held bad memories for X and were they even memories?

X doubting themself because how can Y do any of those things when this Y feels guilty for not saying ‘excuse me’ to a cat on their doorsteps? X trying to persuade themself that maybe none of those things happened. Maybe they got those scars because they really did fall down the stairs. Maybe the black-eye really was from walking into a pole. Maybe they really weren’t lying about that busted lip because X was always clumsy and forgetful and Y is so nice and polite and sweet and- the corner of Y’s lips pulled downward ever so slightly that X was thrown back to that cold pit in their gut, pupils blown wide, and shivering.

Y asking X if they’re alright because they were smiling not a second ago. X wanting to confront Y but not knowing how to start and really, how can you prosecute someone who had no idea what they did? How can you ask justice from someone with only your word as proof that they hurt you? Ignorance of the law excuses no one but the the burden of proof is on the one who declares, not on one who denies.

It can start scenes like:

“I wanted you to die. Did you know that?” X stated staring at the cracks on the pavement. “I prayed that your plane would crash and you’d die. I wished- I hoped that you’d suffer as the plane crashed to the ground. Its warped metals dug in your skin and the heat charred you. I prayed for that damned plane to crash into the ground and crush you in it.“ They looked up at Y and gave a grin, “And it did. Everyone in that plane died. Except for you.”

Or-

“I wanted you to die- I wanted you to suffer even a fraction of what i did under you. I wanted you to ask why. Why is this happening? What did I do? Why me? Because I did,” they sobbed. “but here you are! Given a second chance. A clean fcking slate. Out of all the people in that fcking plane, it was you who had to survive.“

Maybe a

“Why do you get to have the perfect life while I get haunted by nightmares of what you did to me? Why is it that you have the happy ending? What about me? Why can’t I be happy?”

Top it all off with something like this in the middle:

“No one knew what you did to me.” X laughed bitterly, “Even you don’t know what you did to me.”

And that’s it. I dunno what to add or how to end this.

[workinthehurtin]

Gorgeous, absolutely beautiful. The whump fic I intend to (eventually) write is about TFA Sentinel Prime, so this scenario doesn't quite fit, but now I'm wracking my brains trying to find someone for whom it does fit. Perceptor? Ooooo actually that sounds good let me write that down

[workinthehurtin]

Hey, was just wondering. are you still taking suggestions to break a character? I have another idea but it's mostly psychological than physical. And i don't know if i should reblog again coz that might bother you.. and it's also more plot heavy than can be freely added to something and i really dont know.

I am always taking suggestions for this: please, tell me more.

[pythagoreanwhump]

The two main types of whumpees: submissive or stoic

But you know what I love? The stoic whumpee who know it’s in their best interest to obey the whumper, and they do it, but they wil not become a mindless submissive. The fall to their knees with a thump within a split second of the whumper ordering them to, but they will do it with their head held high in pride. When the whumper takes them down to the basement for the next round of torture, they follow without the slightest hesitation, letting the whumper do whatever they want with them. But when the knife digs into their flesh, they grit their teeth and they don’t scream. They don’t give the whumper that pleasure. They just sit there, and they take it. They never beg for mercy, even though they know they want to. And after the whumper wipes the blood off the knife and asks the whumpee what they need to say, they stare ahead emotionless and say a flat “thank you, sir”. They may obey the whumper’s every word physically, but deep down, in their heart, they are rebellious as ever. But they’re smart, and they know never to directly resist

[maniacal-ramblings]

Thiiiiiiiis! This is my favorite type of whumpee! They’ll obey but they wont whimper or whine, not dumb enough to get themselves hurt more than necessary, bidding their time for their opportunity to escape. 

And then that moment where they slip, it becomes a little too much. A little beg slips out, the “thank you, sir” actually grateful when the pain finally stops, leaning against the whumper’s gentle touch before they catch themselves and reel backwards, trying to forget how nice it felt to be good.

[workinthehurtin]

To my whumper fellows out there: I have a plan to completely break a character (and heal him in the aftermath), and I need ideas on how to do it. Anything goes except sexual violence and gaslighting. Please offer suggestions.

[code-dy]

I heard you wanna break someone, i would like to suggest that the one you’re breaking (let’s call them A) be in an immaculate state/condition. Not a dirt in sight. Then put them in a scene where they will have to confront or interact with another (let’s call them B) who had been physically broken/tortured. Broken bones, missing eye, dislocated shoulder, etc.

Then make B pity A. Not in a vindictive and prideful way, no. Make B be genuinely concerned over A. Let B look at A and be horrified and shocked by what they saw. Make the person, dirty and injured and hurt as they are, look up at the one standing and ask, “oh no, what have they done to you? What did they do to you?”

As B try and reach up to A, make A wonder how this defeated beggar looks at A, in their crisp and clean state, and sees something worth pitying. Let B show A how broken and destroyed A actually is. Make B craddle A with offers of protection and camaraderie. And let A, for the first time in a long while, actually feel safe.

[workinthehurtin]

To my whumper fellows out there: I have a plan to completely break a character (and heal him in the aftermath), and I need ideas on how to do it. Anything goes except sexual violence and gaslighting. Please offer suggestions.

[workinthehurtin]

"You are a machine."

"I'm a machine."

"You are a weapon."

"I'm a weapon."

"You are less than flesh and blood."

"I am less than flesh and blood."

"What are you?"

"Nothing."

"What are you?"

"A machine."

"Who are you?"

"No one."

"Why were you made?"

"To serve."

[workinthehurtin]

do you have an archive of our own account? i love your work and would love a chance to read more

I do, but I haven't posted anything more than a Detroit Become Human fic on it– if you're into that, the account is tiredpraxian

[artemis-crock]

1x04 / 1x09

[workinthehurtin]

Data being the captive of Kavis Fajo had and has the potential of being way more whumpy than it actually was.

[workinthehurtin]

That one guy on the team that no one likes. The madman with the gun who antagonizes and yells and gets into fights. When they all get captured, the rest of the team hopes he won't antagonize their captors, make everything worse for everyone. But he does it anyway. Yells insults, draws attention to himself. Attention, and beatings that would have been directed at someone else.

No one realizes. That's okay, he doesn't want them to know. It's easier to pretend he's spitting out blood and holding his aching ribs because he's a dumbass freak who won't keep his mouth shut. Because he's a masochist, always looking for a fight.

Not because he cares.

[workinthehurtin]

"Shh, that's it, hold the knife like- yes, yes, that's it. Now press down, gently. You ever use a box cutter on paper? Like that. Yes, good, good. Don't cry, my dear, you're doing very well. Do it again, just here. There we go.

"And deeper, now. Like cutting up a hamburger patty. Don't give me that look, my dear, we won't do that. This is not art of the culinary type.

"Yes, that's it. Now, just- just here. See how the eyelid flickers? A thin membrane, so delicate. Can you remove it without harming the eye beneath?

"Don't start being stubborn now, my dear. You know how I get when you forget yourself. Now do as I say, and wipe away those tears. That's it. Shall I help you? Come on, then."

[workinthehurtin]

The whumpee often suffers from sleep paralysis. The kind where they're half dreaming, where they're trying to move but can't, where they can just see a figure in the corner of their eye but they can't turn their head, or open their eyes against the sunlight streaming through their window.

It's all a dream, they reassure themselves.

But when they fight their way through, they find that it isn't. It wasn't sleep paralysis holding them down.

[workinthehurtin]

Lying in the dark, unsure whether it was the blindness of his eyes or simply lack of light. The pain in his leg was unmistakeable, however. Lukas had broken enough bones to tell.

He considered crying out for help, but what would it do?

The darkness pressed against his open eyes like a heavy blanket, pressed against his broken leg. He'd never walk quite right again. But only if he got out of this.

No one was coming to save him, this he knew.

No one ever came to save him.

Lukas had always saved himself, and he would do so again.

Just as soon as the darkness stopped smothering him...

[workinthehurtin]

Those heart-wrenching, soundless screams. The ones that force all the air from the whumpee's lungs without making a sound. The kind that the onlookers can feel, can almost hear. The silent sound of agony, high and hoarse.