i've got a river running right into you

// writing & RP blog for custom written antisepticeye // // multi-ship+verse // // heavy whump / nsfwhump themes // // sideblog to @uurynn // // 18+ //

[antipsichotic]

some of the music and books I've been reading and listening to have been reminding me of anti

ugh I want to write him so badly

[antipsichotic]

[it-is-whumptastic]

Hit Me Back Whump

"Hit them back, Whumpee!" Voices shouted from every angle, through screens, and through nightmares, and through horrified faces that were just out of reach.

Whumper straddled Whumpee, forcing their back into the hard floor, every single vertebrae resting painfully against the concrete. Blood decorated their knuckles as they smiled, oh so kindly, at Whumpee.

"Hit me back." Whumper cooed in a gentle mock, knuckles soothingly grazing along Whumpee's face, smearing fresh blood across their canvas. "Go on. Hit me back."

[whump-in-the-closet]

“Did you miss me?” Whumper circles the kneeling captive, gloating. It had been months since they had escaped. Their hair had grown out and some scars had healed.

Not all, because whumpee is shaking. They’re still, oh so scared of whumper.

Whumper presses one hand down on Whumpee’s shoulder and with the other, grabs a handful of dark hair and twists their head up.

Bright, shining eyes.

Whumpee is laughing. In little, breathless gasps, they’re laughing too hard too speak.

Whumper is taken aback. They frown, and twist harder.

Whumpee’s laugh is cut off mid-breath.

“What’s so funny, whumpee?”

Whumpee gasps for air. With forced breathing and a horrible grin, they spit out. “Im not scared of you. What they— did to me— you’re nothing compared to them.”

Whumper doesn’t know what to feel. Still furious. “Who?”

[pain-in-the-everywhere]

Breaking a glass trope but it's Whumper's glass:

"Clean it up," Whumper ordered, their snake tongue darting over their lips in barely concealed glee. Whumpee opened the cupboard for the dustpan. "Not with that."

Whumpee got on their knees and started scooping up the shards with their hands.

"Not like that either," Whumper snapped. "Use your teeth."

"What?" Whumpee asked.

"You heard me."

Whumpee hesitated before obeying. The glass cut their tongue and scraped their face as they struggled to pick it up from the floor. Eventually they clamped a piece between their teeth and began to shuffle over to the bin. Whumper stopped them with a tut.

"Oh no, Whumpee," they said. "That's not the trash can. You are." Whumper smiled. "I want you to swallow it."

[promptsforwhumps]

Mafia boss whumper version 2

Whumper winning whumpee in a card game from caretaker. (both are undercover cops and it was not supposed to go this far)

Whumper refusing to give caretaker another round/chance to win whumpee back.

Whumper making whumpee their little pet.

Whumper taking the time to find the perfect muzzle for whumpee

Whumper giving whumpee a new name and has to train whumpee to recognize and respond to it.

Once whumpee recognizes their new name whumper goes between spoiling whumpee and being cruel

Whumper branding whumpee with his family's name or symbol.

Whumpee's hands being bound so tightly they can't use them.

[antipsichotic]

i've got anti on the other end of a leash and he's whining and crying and bouncing around and begging like a hyperactive puppy

[promptsforwhumps]

A whumper kidnapping and dragging a whumpee to an abandoned hospital.

[promptsforwhumps]

Whumper putting whumpee in a straight jacket.

[leneemusing]

send [ WITNESS ] for receiver to kill someone in front of sender.

send [ OBSERVED ] for sender to kill someone in front of receiver.

[whumpy-bi]

“They need to take a statement from you, alright? No, don’t worry, there’s no wrong answer. Just…just tell them what you told me, about what Whumper did. Whatever you can remember.”

[whore-babyy-deactivated20221130]

[rpmemes-galore]

the violently protective … sentence starters  lots of mentions of violence and death throughout 

the protector 

“Of course I killed them. they hurt you.”

“They made you cry…? Where are they?”

“Don’t feel sorry for them, they deserved it.”

“Don’t worry, they won’t be bothering you, again.”

“These bruises are worth it to make sure you’re safe.”

“Why would you want to protect them? They hurt you.”

“Who did this to you? No, don’t lie to me… who did this?”

“If they even step foot near you, again, I’ll take care of it…”

“No, they don’t deserve any mercy. Not after they hurt you.”

“I swear to god, I’m going to rip him/her/them apart for this.”

“Stop? Why? Don’t you want them to pay for what they did to you?”

the protected 

“Make them hurt for this… please.”

“Stop! Stop, don’t hurt him/her/them!”

“There. That’s the one who did this to me.”

“Violence doesn’t solve anything, just let this be.”

“They made me bleed. Maybe you should return the favor.”

“I don’t want them dead, I just want them to leave me alone.”

“Why did you do this? Why…? I never asked you to fight them.”

“No, I don’t want you to fight them for me. It’s not that big a deal.”

“I don’t care what you do to them, just keep them away from me.”

“I’m not worth you risking your life for… for what? Getting even for me?”

[discordantweave]

Radio Static and the Glitch

Al had been watching his target for some time before deciding it was time to begin. Anti was no stranger to drugs. In fact, he used them quite regularly. Too regularly for any human, really. But that was alright. Al had access to enough to knock out an elephant. Was it too much? Perhaps. He knew the glitch was between playthings, but Al hadn't realized just how much Anti needed those as a distraction, and thus how much Anti was already taking. No matter. Dead weight is still dead weight. As long as the glitch didn't die, and... well, even if he did, Al could always find him when his little holiday topside was over.

It had been decades since he'd originally died and landed in Hell. Very nearly a century. But here he was. Not really alive, but looking like he had all those years ago; tall, thin, short brown hair that swept up and to a point on one side in the front. His eyes were brown, but there was a red tint to them in certain lights. He wondered if he'd still look as he had in Hell when he returned. Idle thoughts to distract himself as he settled Anti in. This was going to be quite entertaining.

The room was underground, plenty insulated by earth and stone and concrete. Several reinforced doors along the underground hallway lead to the only way out. The glitch was strong, Al knew, so heavy restraints would be necessary. Securely fastened both to Anti and to the solid walls and floors, depending on where Al chose to position him. He had a few places prepared, and if he thought of any more, he was certain he could make it happen. To begin, though, the bed made the most sense.

Stepping back, he admired his work, on hand to his pointed chin, his head tilting slightly. He'd taken off the black suit jacket and left it on the back of a wooden chair while he'd worked. The sleeves of his deep red button-up were rolled up to his elbows. with his other hand, he brushed and straightened first bis black vest then his bow tie.

[antipsichotic]

"I've never had anything to be afraid of. I'm not going to start now." He glared up at Al. "I hurt myself for fun. I don't think anything you've got in mind is going to change that."

[discordantweave]

Al stood there just grinning down at him for a long minute or two before his smile widened even further. "Your enjoyment of what is to come will be a thrilling new experience, for the both of us, I see." His cheery tone, his crisp pronunciation of his transatlantic accent, the volume; it all came out as a voice that wanted - no, demanded - to be heard. He reached down to once again pat his new pet's head.

[antipsichotic]

As Al's hand made contact with Anti's head, he held back the instinct to lunge at him. Though every fiber of his being yearned to jump at the man at every given opportunity, there was little he could do in the moment. His energy was still low, and he was well restrained.

Instead, a low growl rose in his throat. His eyes fell to the floor, avoiding eye contact. An empty threat.

[discordantweave]

Radio Static and the Glitch

Al had been watching his target for some time before deciding it was time to begin. Anti was no stranger to drugs. In fact, he used them quite regularly. Too regularly for any human, really. But that was alright. Al had access to enough to knock out an elephant. Was it too much? Perhaps. He knew the glitch was between playthings, but Al hadn't realized just how much Anti needed those as a distraction, and thus how much Anti was already taking. No matter. Dead weight is still dead weight. As long as the glitch didn't die, and... well, even if he did, Al could always find him when his little holiday topside was over.

It had been decades since he'd originally died and landed in Hell. Very nearly a century. But here he was. Not really alive, but looking like he had all those years ago; tall, thin, short brown hair that swept up and to a point on one side in the front. His eyes were brown, but there was a red tint to them in certain lights. He wondered if he'd still look as he had in Hell when he returned. Idle thoughts to distract himself as he settled Anti in. This was going to be quite entertaining.

The room was underground, plenty insulated by earth and stone and concrete. Several reinforced doors along the underground hallway lead to the only way out. The glitch was strong, Al knew, so heavy restraints would be necessary. Securely fastened both to Anti and to the solid walls and floors, depending on where Al chose to position him. He had a few places prepared, and if he thought of any more, he was certain he could make it happen. To begin, though, the bed made the most sense.

Stepping back, he admired his work, on hand to his pointed chin, his head tilting slightly. He'd taken off the black suit jacket and left it on the back of a wooden chair while he'd worked. The sleeves of his deep red button-up were rolled up to his elbows. with his other hand, he brushed and straightened first bis black vest then his bow tie.

[antipsichotic]

"I've never had anything to be afraid of. I'm not going to start now." He glared up at Al. "I hurt myself for fun. I don't think anything you've got in mind is going to change that."

[discordantweave]

Radio Static and the Glitch

Al had been watching his target for some time before deciding it was time to begin. Anti was no stranger to drugs. In fact, he used them quite regularly. Too regularly for any human, really. But that was alright. Al had access to enough to knock out an elephant. Was it too much? Perhaps. He knew the glitch was between playthings, but Al hadn't realized just how much Anti needed those as a distraction, and thus how much Anti was already taking. No matter. Dead weight is still dead weight. As long as the glitch didn't die, and... well, even if he did, Al could always find him when his little holiday topside was over.

It had been decades since he'd originally died and landed in Hell. Very nearly a century. But here he was. Not really alive, but looking like he had all those years ago; tall, thin, short brown hair that swept up and to a point on one side in the front. His eyes were brown, but there was a red tint to them in certain lights. He wondered if he'd still look as he had in Hell when he returned. Idle thoughts to distract himself as he settled Anti in. This was going to be quite entertaining.

The room was underground, plenty insulated by earth and stone and concrete. Several reinforced doors along the underground hallway lead to the only way out. The glitch was strong, Al knew, so heavy restraints would be necessary. Securely fastened both to Anti and to the solid walls and floors, depending on where Al chose to position him. He had a few places prepared, and if he thought of any more, he was certain he could make it happen. To begin, though, the bed made the most sense.

Stepping back, he admired his work, on hand to his pointed chin, his head tilting slightly. He'd taken off the black suit jacket and left it on the back of a wooden chair while he'd worked. The sleeves of his deep red button-up were rolled up to his elbows. with his other hand, he brushed and straightened first bis black vest then his bow tie.

[antipsichotic]

When Anti noticed Al had somehow closed the gap between them, his brow furrowed.

"Interesting? No." He said flatly. "You know, I don't enjoy a hoverer." He scooted himself backwards and away from Al just a bit. The bed groaned underneath him as he did so.

[discordantweave]

Radio Static and the Glitch

Al had been watching his target for some time before deciding it was time to begin. Anti was no stranger to drugs. In fact, he used them quite regularly. Too regularly for any human, really. But that was alright. Al had access to enough to knock out an elephant. Was it too much? Perhaps. He knew the glitch was between playthings, but Al hadn't realized just how much Anti needed those as a distraction, and thus how much Anti was already taking. No matter. Dead weight is still dead weight. As long as the glitch didn't die, and... well, even if he did, Al could always find him when his little holiday topside was over.

It had been decades since he'd originally died and landed in Hell. Very nearly a century. But here he was. Not really alive, but looking like he had all those years ago; tall, thin, short brown hair that swept up and to a point on one side in the front. His eyes were brown, but there was a red tint to them in certain lights. He wondered if he'd still look as he had in Hell when he returned. Idle thoughts to distract himself as he settled Anti in. This was going to be quite entertaining.

The room was underground, plenty insulated by earth and stone and concrete. Several reinforced doors along the underground hallway lead to the only way out. The glitch was strong, Al knew, so heavy restraints would be necessary. Securely fastened both to Anti and to the solid walls and floors, depending on where Al chose to position him. He had a few places prepared, and if he thought of any more, he was certain he could make it happen. To begin, though, the bed made the most sense.

Stepping back, he admired his work, on hand to his pointed chin, his head tilting slightly. He'd taken off the black suit jacket and left it on the back of a wooden chair while he'd worked. The sleeves of his deep red button-up were rolled up to his elbows. with his other hand, he brushed and straightened first bis black vest then his bow tie.

[antipsichotic]

Anti let out a small huff when he was praised.

Once Al's back was turned, Anti looked around the room, taking in the environment.

"Sort of." He responded bluntly, his sight not returning to Al. "I prefer to consume human meat. It has a certain.. taste of misery you can't find in anything else." He spoke as though he were talking about a simple diet preference. "..especially when it's still alive."

[discordantweave]

Al let out another hearty laugh, turning on his heel to face Anti once more. "I should have asked whether you need to eat. Not that I couldn't supply that, but I'd prefer not to leave you alone for longer than necessary. Unless that was your hope, in which case I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you."

[antipsichotic]

Anti's attention remained away from Al. He didn't notice when the man turned to face him again. He gave a light chuckle. Even when captured, he was snarky and secretive about himself.

Yes, food would become an issue after a few days. He couldn't let Al know this, though. In the event he was unable to escape in a timely manner, food may have become a weapon of torture. A weapon Anti knew his way around quite well.

"I don't plan to be here long enough for food to become an issue." He mumbled, reaching to pull on the chain around his wrist. He yanked on it a few times before bringing it closer to his face in inspection.

His vision was then brought up once more, eyeing around quickly before falling onto Al.