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Do y'all also experience the queue limbo? Where you've queued a post for, say, 8.35 and at 8.38 it's removed from the queue but hasn't been published yet and this was a post made in tumblr drafts so you don't have a backup and you're just waiting and hoping it didn't get eaten and-- oh thank god there it is.

#it took 5 minutes #tumblr shenanigans

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One of my fave whump writers writing robot whump is so real yes u r everything i am very normal ab it and not at all overjoyed to an unnatural extent i promise

Making one of your fave followers so happy with a smol thing <3

I had a lot of good (evil) ideas before bed, and of course, I didn't write them down because "I'll remember them tomorrow". Yeah.

I don't have drabbles yet, but I'm gonna set up a prompt list :3

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Me googling Prison movies, for research purposes, and seeing all these gritty serious dark movie posters and then all of a sudden, bam! Paddington 2.

#and I mean yeah it's true

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How about some robot whump, where Whumper is going all out on it with Caretaker forced to watch.

The android assures Caretaker, "Not to worry. I cannot feel it. There is no pain."

But that doesn't mean that Caretaker stops yelling at Whumper to stop tearing their friend apart in the most brutal way. Appendages ripped from its torso, wires sending sparks up, the humanoid features slowly but forcefully removed. Oil drips out, leaving dark puddles not quite unlike blood.

All the while, the android keeps diligently updating on its status:

"Sensory functions failing."

"Emotion recognition centre damaged."

"Visuals reduced to 30%."

"It's okay!" Caretaker shouts. "I can still fix you. I can fix it all!"

"Oh, can you?" Whumper croons, fingers teasing over loose wires and smashing a hammer to the core.

"Memory storage compromised," the android croaks, it's voice failing.

"Maybe you can fix it, Caretaker," Whumper says, raising the hammer again. "But will it get you your friend back?"

-

General whump taglist: @firewheeesky @myfriendcallsmeasickwoman19 @whumpawink @painsandconfusion @auroragehenna @chaotic-orphan @lolrpop (huh not sure if these tags are working..)

#self reblog #help #I can't stop thinking about robot whumpee caretaker angstt #I have #awakened

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Whumpee slips a note into a stranger’s palm, hoping they’ll understand the cry for help hastily scribbled on the scrap of paper.

But the stranger only smirks and hands the note to Whumper. “You should watch them a little closer.”

#!!!! #oho imagine the punishment #the dread

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Content: Caretaker-turned-whumpee, forced to watch, beatings, recapture, captivity, PTSD/trauma, recovery.

You know what I love? Whumpees being dragged back into captivity, but their caretaker being brought with them. For near a year, Caretaker has been watching the long-lasting affects of what Whumpee went through. As they got more comfortable around them, Whumpee started to open up about it. The trauma. The pain. The control that they were under and the things they were forced to do as a result.

But Caretaker never thought they'd have to witness it firsthand. They can see how utterly humiliated Whumpee is as they're beaten into the ground; their punishment for leaving. They can't bear to look Caretaker in the eye, often averting their gaze to anything else or staring up at the ceiling until it's over. They're ashamed to have put someone they've grown to care for in such danger. They never thought anyone from the outside would see the hell they lived in for so long.

#yeahhhhh #this is my jamm #recapture plus all this

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How about some robot whump, where Whumper is going all out on it with Caretaker forced to watch.

The android assures Caretaker, "Not to worry. I cannot feel it. There is no pain."

But that doesn't mean that Caretaker stops yelling at Whumper to stop tearing their friend apart in the most brutal way. Appendages ripped from its torso, wires sending sparks up, the humanoid features slowly but forcefully removed. Oil drips out, leaving dark puddles not quite unlike blood.

All the while, the android keeps diligently updating on its status:

"Sensory functions failing."

"Emotion recognition centre damaged."

"Visuals reduced to 30%."

"It's okay!" Caretaker shouts. "I can still fix you. I can fix it all!"

"Oh, can you?" Whumper croons, fingers teasing over loose wires and smashing a hammer to the core.

"Memory storage compromised," the android croaks, it's voice failing.

"Maybe you can fix it, Caretaker," Whumper says, raising the hammer again. "But will it get you your friend back?"

-

General whump taglist: @firewheeesky @myfriendcallsmeasickwoman19 @whumpawink @painsandconfusion @auroragehenna @chaotic-orphan @lolrpop (huh not sure if these tags are working..)

#whump #robot whump #android whump #forced to watch #caretaker #sadistic whumper #emotional whump #robot gore? #angst #whump writing #my writing

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They are here for me

Prologue

-

“Dead men don’t just pop out to stretch their legs, Ava!”

“Don’t you shout at me! God, I came here to watch a movie, not to you ambushing us with conspiracy theories!”

Lucas opened his mouth to retort, but had none. Okay, yeah, he had kind of ambushed them on their weekend outing. But he had no other choice. Barging in on her at home was too dangerous. And she wouldn’t have taken that well, either. Hell, staying at his own home was too dangerous. But he needed someone to confide in. Either he was going paranoid, or he really was being watched. And neither was good.

He sat back and, to avoid Ava’s accusing glance, let his gaze roam over to the little girl now happily scurrying along the candy lane. She had been easier to pacify than her aunt; a promise of a later movie with a bag of candy to go with and she was happy to give them some time to discuss things.

A trait she probably hadn’t inherited from her aunt, or well, maybe she had… Always make a good deal. That was Ava’s motto, pounded into him ever since he started working with her. Ava wasn’t easily bought. Even at the office, if he’d try to get her in a good mood, seeing her favourite coffee drink waiting for her on her desk was only met with suspicion. Like it wasn’t just coffee but a bribe.

She was on his side here, but god, he needed something to convince her. Without sounding paranoid.

Ava followed his gaze, the girl now intensely focused, finger running over the containers trying to decide. “You owe me for this. That girl ain't stopping until that bag is full.”

“Yeah, fine, okay. Here’s ten bucks.” He slapped a bill on the side table. “And take this as well.” He carefully but deliberately placed a thumb drive on top of the bill.

Despite her anger and doubt, Ava didn't hesitate. She folded the bill over the drive, neatly packaging it, and tucked it away in her wallet. Only her voice carried her suspicion. “What is this?”

“Everything I have on that man. Files show he should have been released years ago, yet his body was brought in to the morgue directly from the prison. And now he’s gone. Nothing adds up here.”

“You couldn’t wait ‘til Monday—" Ava started, but a voice over the speakers interrupted her.

“Ladies and gentleman, at the request of the police we have to ask you to please evacuate the building through the main exit. We are deeply sorry for the inco—"

Lucas ignored the announcement at first, thinking they were just calling for the next movie to start, but at the word ‘police’ he jumped up. He flew towards the railing of the second floor, overlooking the main lobby of the movie theatre, nearly crashing right into it and leaning over.

At the floor below, people were already making their way out, flanked by a troop of military police who checked everyone leaving the building. A smaller group made their way inside, pushing through the confused crowd. Lucas watched it all unfold, equally confused by the spectacle yet also in total disbelief, ignoring the alarm bells blaring in his head.

A tall man in a long black coat who appeared to be the leader effortlessly made his way through, following his men. He oozed authority, striding his way past the crowd, his manner relaxed and calm, determined, and signalled with a single gesture of his hand for the men to split up and take the surrounding staircases up.

Lucas glanced back towards Ava, who quickly called her niece back to her and stood, ready to leave. He shook his head, gesturing for her to wait just a bit. Because this couldn’t be happening. This was proof he was just paranoid.

When he looked down again, his breath caught.

The tall man, the leader, was looking up. Straight at him. Eyes met. Narrowed. Widened, in Lucas’ case. And he knew.

The man called something out to his troopers but Lucas already pushed himself away from the railing and shot back to Ava.

“They’re here for me—” he started.

“Oh, Lucas, don’t be so dramati—”

“No. Listen. They are here for me!” he said, emphasizing each word. “I don’t have time. Take that drive and get out! You can go through the main entrance. I need you on this, Ava, please!”

And before she could even protest any further, he ran off towards the back, hoping to find an unguarded back entrance.

Useless, really. The building was probably completely surrounded by now, all escape routes cut off. But he had to try. He wasn’t going to surrender himself to them and attempt to talk this out. If they were willing to go to such lengths, in public… there wouldn’t be much to talk about.

He ran through the long hallway connecting the theatres, stomping over the red plush carpet, trying the doors to make for the emergency exit inside, but the doors had already been locked. He cursed a desperate note, continued running. His only way of escape was probably through the double doors. The main entrance, guarded by men who hopefully wouldn’t recognise him if he could just blend in with the crowd and get out, meet up with Ava.

He screeched to a halt as a rumble of heavy footsteps sounded from the end of the hallway, getting louder, getting closer. He turned on his heels and shot the other way. Heard shouts of recognition behind him. Panic seared through him and he nearly stumbled over himself in his haste to get away. Came to an abrupt halt again as two more men blocked his path from the other side.

They were armed… but they didn’t even bother reaching for their guns.

He froze for a second, fell a step back. Nearly tore his neck as he looked back; the other group now slowly closing him in. This couldn’t be happening. Right?! He glanced back and forth at the two groups of men not letting up, advancing on him as if he was a wild animal, as if he was the one who carried a weapon.

He was trapped. Completely trapped. The only option left was…

Fight! His body screamed, adrenaline bracing him, tensing his muscles. Push through!

Surrender! His mind countered instead, turning his limbs to lead with paralyzing fear as if it was already prepping to make him sink to his knees. Don’t make things worse.

Torn, he shot another glance back and forth. And made up his mind.

With a desperate scream he launched himself at the two men, hoping to bulldozer through.

They didn’t even blink.

He crashed right into them. Like crashing into a solid wall. Not giving him one inch.

One caught him by the elbow. An arm slid around his torso. A sharp pain exploded in his knee and he collapsed at their feet, half held up by his arm that was now twisted to his back. He hissed. Pain shot through his shoulder, forcing him face-down to the ground. Where he saw more combat boots drawing nearer.

“N—Get off, get—!”

He struggled with all his might, knowing full well he couldn’t throw off two trained men with their full weight on him. He flailed, begged, screamed. Bucked and twisted to get free. Managed to pull one hand free and driven by this small success, he doubled his efforts.

He vaguely registered slower footsteps drawing nearer, but with another knee forced onto his back he couldn’t look up. His chest pressed into the soft carpet. He trashed again, a final attempt—

When suddenly a harsh grip snared in his hair. His head was pulled up and before he could even realise what was going on, everything exploded in pain as his forehead slammed into the floor.

He couldn’t move a muscle for a few agonising seconds. Heard a distinct click. Made to try and bring his hands to press against his head, but something stopped him. He couldn’t see a thing, nothing but a white flash slowly fading to red, the red of the carpet that scratched his forehead as he stuttered back to life and slowly shook his head with a moan.

Two pairs of strong hands grabbed him by the upper arms, pulled him up. He followed with a groan, slouching in their grip, half bend-over, legs protesting against the weight forced on them. Blood gushed from his nose, dripped over his chin and splattered onto the carpet. His vision was still blurry. He blinked hard, trying to focus, his gaze stuttering over to the man still towering over him even now that they’d scraped him from the floor.

He barely had the strength to raise his head, merely stared straight ahead, eyes at chest height. He tried very hard to focus on one of the shiny buttons of the man’s long black coat until he was pulled upright. His gaze followed up, searching for the man’s eyes. They were the same cold eyes that had looked up at him from the lobby, now looking down with a certain cold condescension.

The man’s hard stare snapped to his subordinates.

“Take him away.” And with an equally cold harsh nod, Lucas was half carried along, down the stairs, the toes of his shoes scraping over the carpet every now and then as he struggled to keep up.

There was no mercy of a quiet exit by the stage door. The unit marched him right down the lobby, through the double doors of the main entrance, clearing a perplexed crowd to carry a bloody, half-conscious man to a police car.

He spotted Ava outside, hand in front of her mouth, eyes wide and fixed on his face. He tried to smile at her, but it probably came out as a twisted grimace. With bloodied teeth, perhaps. Not the reassurance he had in mind.

They deposited him like a limp rag in the back of the police car. The door slammed shut and he sagged against it, taking the pressure off his bound hands. The man getting in the front turned in his seat to look back at him. He could barely make out his face, but it was the man who had smashed his head in. His lips moved. Did he just say something? There was no concern in those eyes whatsoever, so Lucas doubted he asked an ‘are you okay?’.

The car blurred, the world turned to silence. And as the car rumbled to life, his vision joined gave in, everything turning black.

-

Still untitled prison whump project tag list :) @gala1981 @chaotic-orphan @lolrpop

#self reblog

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English added by me :)

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They are here for me

Prologue

-

“Dead men don’t just pop out to stretch their legs, Ava!”

“Don’t you shout at me! God, I came here to watch a movie, not to you ambushing us with conspiracy theories!”

Lucas opened his mouth to retort, but had none. Okay, yeah, he had kind of ambushed them on their weekend outing. But he had no other choice. Barging in on her at home was too dangerous. And she wouldn’t have taken that well, either. Hell, staying at his own home was too dangerous. But he needed someone to confide in. Either he was going paranoid, or he really was being watched. And neither was good.

He sat back and, to avoid Ava’s accusing glance, let his gaze roam over to the little girl now happily scurrying along the candy lane. She had been easier to pacify than her aunt; a promise of a later movie with a bag of candy to go with and she was happy to give them some time to discuss things.

A trait she probably hadn’t inherited from her aunt, or well, maybe she had… Always make a good deal. That was Ava’s motto, pounded into him ever since he started working with her. Ava wasn’t easily bought. Even at the office, if he’d try to get her in a good mood, seeing her favourite coffee drink waiting for her on her desk was only met with suspicion. Like it wasn’t just coffee but a bribe.

She was on his side here, but god, he needed something to convince her. Without sounding paranoid.

Ava followed his gaze, the girl now intensely focused, finger running over the containers trying to decide. “You owe me for this. That girl ain't stopping until that bag is full.”

“Yeah, fine, okay. Here’s ten bucks.” He slapped a bill on the side table. “And take this as well.” He carefully but deliberately placed a thumb drive on top of the bill.

Despite her anger and doubt, Ava didn't hesitate. She folded the bill over the drive, neatly packaging it, and tucked it away in her wallet. Only her voice carried her suspicion. “What is this?”

“Everything I have on that man. Files show he should have been released years ago, yet his body was brought in to the morgue directly from the prison. And now he’s gone. Nothing adds up here.”

“You couldn’t wait ‘til Monday—" Ava started, but a voice over the speakers interrupted her.

“Ladies and gentleman, at the request of the police we have to ask you to please evacuate the building through the main exit. We are deeply sorry for the inco—"

Lucas ignored the announcement at first, thinking they were just calling for the next movie to start, but at the word ‘police’ he jumped up. He flew towards the railing of the second floor, overlooking the main lobby of the movie theatre, nearly crashing right into it and leaning over.

At the floor below, people were already making their way out, flanked by a troop of military police who checked everyone leaving the building. A smaller group made their way inside, pushing through the confused crowd. Lucas watched it all unfold, equally confused by the spectacle yet also in total disbelief, ignoring the alarm bells blaring in his head.

A tall man in a long black coat who appeared to be the leader effortlessly made his way through, following his men. He oozed authority, striding his way past the crowd, his manner relaxed and calm, determined, and signalled with a single gesture of his hand for the men to split up and take the surrounding staircases up.

Lucas glanced back towards Ava, who quickly called her niece back to her and stood, ready to leave. He shook his head, gesturing for her to wait just a bit. Because this couldn’t be happening. This was proof he was just paranoid.

When he looked down again, his breath caught.

The tall man, the leader, was looking up. Straight at him. Eyes met. Narrowed. Widened, in Lucas’ case. And he knew.

The man called something out to his troopers but Lucas already pushed himself away from the railing and shot back to Ava.

“They’re here for me—” he started.

“Oh, Lucas, don’t be so dramati—”

“No. Listen. They are here for me!” he said, emphasizing each word. “I don’t have time. Take that drive and get out! You can go through the main entrance. I need you on this, Ava, please!”

And before she could even protest any further, he ran off towards the back, hoping to find an unguarded back entrance.

Useless, really. The building was probably completely surrounded by now, all escape routes cut off. But he had to try. He wasn’t going to surrender himself to them and attempt to talk this out. If they were willing to go to such lengths, in public… there wouldn’t be much to talk about.

He ran through the long hallway connecting the theatres, stomping over the red plush carpet, trying the doors to make for the emergency exit inside, but the doors had already been locked. He cursed a desperate note, continued running. His only way of escape was probably through the double doors. The main entrance, guarded by men who hopefully wouldn’t recognise him if he could just blend in with the crowd and get out, meet up with Ava.

He screeched to a halt as a rumble of heavy footsteps sounded from the end of the hallway, getting louder, getting closer. He turned on his heels and shot the other way. Heard shouts of recognition behind him. Panic seared through him and he nearly stumbled over himself in his haste to get away. Came to an abrupt halt again as two more men blocked his path from the other side.

They were armed… but they didn’t even bother reaching for their guns.

He froze for a second, fell a step back. Nearly tore his neck as he looked back; the other group now slowly closing him in. This couldn’t be happening. Right?! He glanced back and forth at the two groups of men not letting up, advancing on him as if he was a wild animal, as if he was the one who carried a weapon.

He was trapped. Completely trapped. The only option left was…

Fight! His body screamed, adrenaline bracing him, tensing his muscles. Push through!

Surrender! His mind countered instead, turning his limbs to lead with paralyzing fear as if it was already prepping to make him sink to his knees. Don’t make things worse.

Torn, he shot another glance back and forth. And made up his mind.

With a desperate scream he launched himself at the two men, hoping to bulldozer through.

They didn’t even blink.

He crashed right into them. Like crashing into a solid wall. Not giving him one inch.

One caught him by the elbow. An arm slid around his torso. A sharp pain exploded in his knee and he collapsed at their feet, half held up by his arm that was now twisted to his back. He hissed. Pain shot through his shoulder, forcing him face-down to the ground. Where he saw more combat boots drawing nearer.

“N—Get off, get—!”

He struggled with all his might, knowing full well he couldn’t throw off two trained men with their full weight on him. He flailed, begged, screamed. Bucked and twisted to get free. Managed to pull one hand free and driven by this small success, he doubled his efforts.

He vaguely registered slower footsteps drawing nearer, but with another knee forced onto his back he couldn’t look up. His chest pressed into the soft carpet. He trashed again, a final attempt—

When suddenly a harsh grip snared in his hair. His head was pulled up and before he could even realise what was going on, everything exploded in pain as his forehead slammed into the floor.

He couldn’t move a muscle for a few agonising seconds. Heard a distinct click. Made to try and bring his hands to press against his head, but something stopped him. He couldn’t see a thing, nothing but a white flash slowly fading to red, the red of the carpet that scratched his forehead as he stuttered back to life and slowly shook his head with a moan.

Two pairs of strong hands grabbed him by the upper arms, pulled him up. He followed with a groan, slouching in their grip, half bend-over, legs protesting against the weight forced on them. Blood gushed from his nose, dripped over his chin and splattered onto the carpet. His vision was still blurry. He blinked hard, trying to focus, his gaze stuttering over to the man still towering over him even now that they’d scraped him from the floor.

He barely had the strength to raise his head, merely stared straight ahead, eyes at chest height. He tried very hard to focus on one of the shiny buttons of the man’s long black coat until he was pulled upright. His gaze followed up, searching for the man’s eyes. They were the same cold eyes that had looked up at him from the lobby, now looking down with a certain cold condescension.

The man’s hard stare snapped to his subordinates.

“Take him away.” And with an equally cold harsh nod, Lucas was half carried along, down the stairs, the toes of his shoes scraping over the carpet every now and then as he struggled to keep up.

There was no mercy of a quiet exit by the stage door. The unit marched him right down the lobby, through the double doors of the main entrance, clearing a perplexed crowd to carry a bloody, half-conscious man to a police car.

He spotted Ava outside, hand in front of her mouth, eyes wide and fixed on his face. He tried to smile at her, but it probably came out as a twisted grimace. With bloodied teeth, perhaps. Not the reassurance he had in mind.

They deposited him like a limp rag in the back of the police car. The door slammed shut and he sagged against it, taking the pressure off his bound hands. The man getting in the front turned in his seat to look back at him. He could barely make out his face, but it was the man who had smashed his head in. His lips moved. Did he just say something? There was no concern in those eyes whatsoever, so Lucas doubted he asked an ‘are you okay?’.

The car blurred, the world turned to silence. And as the car rumbled to life, his vision joined gave in, everything turning black.

-

Still untitled prison whump project tag list :) @gala1981 @chaotic-orphan @lolrpop

#whump #whump writing #failed escape #public whump #manhandling #stoic whumper #captured #chase scene #restrained whumpee #my writing

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A character who's been shot is captured by enemies/bad guys. They're bleeding badly, and their captors need them alive. The bullet is removed, and the wound is poured with alcohol and bandaged tightly - none of it is done gently, and, being tied up (and maybe gagged), they can do nothing but scream and cry out in pain while enduring the rough treatment.

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If you're going to write pet whump, can you at least tag it appropriately?

I don't write pet whump?

#maybe some can be interpreted as it #but i don’t consider my stuff pet whump #if you just ask nicely and point out the piece then sure I'll tag

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whumpee is captured and held for some time---but eventually, they're rescued, with whumper having fled. whumpee seems mostly unharmed, and tells only a story of simple imprisonment, not having been particularly mistreated. this surprises team---but, hey, it's not necessarily a bad thing, right? even if it doesn't align with how whumper seems to function? eventually, team moves on, just glad to be reunited.

until they confront whumper again as a team. whumpee seems normal---until whumper just says the word, and whumpee immediately starts attacking their friends like a vicious feral animal. that's essentially what they are now; an animal, made to do whatever whumper orders them to, never to disobey.

even if that order is to "blend in".

#yoooooo?????

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Whumpuary 2024 Day 12

12. (Jan 23-24) "You're awake" / Rescue / Unfair Fight 

cw physical whump/injury, captive whumpee, intimate whumper, suggestive, mention of starvation, emeto, beating, choking 

“You want me to do what?” 

“Hit me,” Whumper said with a smirk. “Go on, I know you want to.” 

Whumpee shivered, remembering the last time they had tried to fight back against Whumper. Their stomach turned at the memory of how easily Whumper had gotten them under control—beaten them senseless until Whumpee was a crying, shaking mess. And that had been back when Whumper had first taken them. When Whumpee still had their strength, mentally and physically. They couldn’t imagine how much worse they’d fair now in a fight against their captor. 

“What are you waiting for?” Whumper asked, closing the space between them. They looked down at Whumpee with amusement. “Ah...are you scared of what I’ll do to you, honey?” 

“Please, I don’t...” Whumpee tried to step away, but their back hit the wall behind them. “I can’t. I don’t want to.” 

Whumper nodded in mock sympathy. “I know you don’t.” They grabbed one of Whumpee’s wrists and held it up roughly. “Look how frail you’ve gotten, darling. I doubt you could even hit me very hard...” 

When they blinked, the tears began to spill from Whumpee’s eyes. “P-Please, don’t make me do this, you know I—” 

Whumper silenced them with a kiss, their other hand grabbing onto Whumpee’s hair and holding them in place as they squirmed. Pulling back, Whumper said, “I know. You’re scared of trying to take me in a fight. But don’t forget what happens when you disobey me. I promise, it will be much worse than a beating.” 

Whumpee’s breath caught on a sob, and Whumper took a step back. They towered over Whumpee, tall and muscular, with strong arms that could easily break them. Whumpee felt dizzy, hands trembling where they clenched into fists at their sides. 

“Come on,” Whumper said with a laugh. “Let’s see what you’ve got. If you impress me, maybe I'll try not to make you bleed.” 

Whumpee had to stand on their tiptoes in order to reach Whumper. They hissed in pain when their fist landed wrong, barely drawing a reaction from Whumper but leaving their knuckles sore. They didn’t know how to fight, they didn’t know how to throw a punch, but that didn’t matter. Whumper didn’t want a fair fight—they wanted to humiliate Whumpee, and they wanted an excuse to hurt them back. 

“Is that all you’ve got?” Whumper taunted as their captive cradled their hand against their chest. “Aw, now don’t give me those pathetic eyes, honey. You look absolutely miserable.” 

“Please...” Whumpee tried again. But that word was as far as they got before Whumper’s fist connected with their face hard enough to knock them back into the wall. Whumpee groaned in pain, trying to stay on their feet. 

Whumper grabbed their wrists and pinned them above Whumpee’s head, able to hold both in one hand. “Have I not been feeding you enough? Seems like you’ve gotten thinner since the last time we did this. Weaker.” Their other hand curled around Whumpee’s throat, strong fingers cutting off their air with ease. “Yeah, look at that. You used to be able to struggle more.” 

They were right. Whumpee thrashed against their hold, but it didn’t do any good at all. Whumper had broken them down so much they didn’t have the strength to fight back. The hand on their neck pulled Whumpee forward before slamming them back into the wall. Whumpee’s vision blacked out when their head hit the concrete, and their lungs burned with each gasping breath as they crumpled to the ground. 

“Fucking pathetic.” Whumper said it almost fondly, kicking Whumpee in the stomach. “I won’t lie, I’ve missed this. You’ve been so good for me lately, I haven’t had much reason to hurt you. I forgot how fun it is.” 

Whumpee made a soft noise of pain, struggling to push themself up onto their hands and knees. They were aided by the hand tangling in their hair and yanking them up the rest of the way. “N-no more,” they begged, voice barely audible. “I can’t...” 

Whumper chuckled. “But I’m enjoying this so much, honey. Unless you can think of another way to entertain me?” 

Whumpee nodded desperately, which made their head spin. Fingers grasped at Whumper’s thighs because they couldn’t get the words out, chest tight and voice choked with sobs. 

“Hm,” Whumper hummed thoughtfully. “You don’t usually give it up that easy. Must really be feeling it, huh?” 

Another boot to the stomach made Whumpee double over, shoulders heaving as they puked. 

Whumper took a step back and watched them with amusement. “Poor little thing,” they cooed. Whumpee was shaking, arms curled around themself protectively. “I don’t think I'll ever get tired of you.” 

taglist: @morning-star-whump ((if you want to be added lmk!))

#hm lovely #unfair fights my beloved

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fullmetal alchemist fans will say shit like 'tbh him getting impaled was one of my favorite moments in the story' and they will be talking about their beloved protagonist.

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newbie fic authors, shooting themselves in the foot: This fic is bad haha I suck at writing lol I am being mean to myself in the hopes that you will be nice to me but actually am dissuading anyone from even clicking on my fic because all I have done to advertise it is tell you why you shouldn't read it

me: I am King Big Dick of Fanfic Mountain and I have arrived in your fandom with the Express Intention of writing my Very Favorite Fics, which I will generously allow you to read. You're welcome.

#asdgjefalkfk #be king big dick folks