#robot whump
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Robot whumpee laying on the engineering table in pieces, half aware in low power mode as caretaker gently looks them over and inspects them to find out how serious the damage is.
Caretaker's hands deep inside the delicate, complicated inner parts and wires of robot whumpee's body.
Caretaker covered up to their elbows with spilled fluids from inside robot whumpee.
Robot whumpee staring up at caretaker as caretaker moves in and out of their vision, unable to adjust their gaze or turn their head in the condition they're in.
#robot whump#caretaker#whumblr#whump#whump community#whump prompt#whump prompts#whump scenario#whump tropes#whump writing#whumpblr#whumpee#darkfic#dark fic#💻🔪
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Catharsis #1: Talking
Masterlist
content: robot whumpee, defiant whumpee, whumpee turned whumper turned caretaker, reluctant caretaker
new series!! i know every time i try to start a new series i end up bailing but this time i will not do that lol. tho kane & jim will still have most of my attention. i want to give a major shout-out to @sowhumpshaped, this series would not exist without it!
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After extensive testing, the Catharsis Therapy Bot™ line of RoboCorp androids have been declared sentient, the third AI to receive the designation.
Long-criticized for both their basis in the unproven catharsis model of anger and their practice of design based on living, unconsenting humans, the Catharsis Therapy Bot line was marketed as a therapeutic tool which trauma victims could use to vent their frustrations. With top-of-the-line AI meant to simulate realistic reactions to would-be pain, the–
Luan switched the TV off just as his phone buzzed with a notification.
New email from RoboCorp Customer Support
URGENT: Please see instructions regarding your…
He held the power button down so hard it left an impression in his thumb, the screen going dark.
The only piece of technology that mattered right now was in the closet, his power cord snaking under the door to reach the outlet just outside.
Technically, Luan didn’t have to do anything. The robot was off. That was probably what the email would have told him, anyway: leave the robot off, don’t touch it. He didn’t have to turn him on ever again. RoboCorp would probably pick him up, and that would be that. They’d never see each other again, both better for it.
He opened the closet door, the sight of the robot that looked exactly like him instantly leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. His hand curled into a fist on instinct, but he let it slowly open again.
The robot looked peaceful, almost like he was sleeping. Really, he’d be doing him a favor by just leaving him like this.
Luan reached down, pressed the button between his shoulder blades, and stepped back.
The robot’s eyes sprung open. He drew his arms up to his chest with a vicious glare, jerking away. “Fuck off.”
Luan pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Okay. Jesus.”
He tried to slam the closet closed, but the stupid power cord got caught, cushioning the frame so the door swung right back out.
“Can’t even close a door right,” the robot spat, still huddled against the back wall like a trapped, feral cat. “Worthless, good-for-nothing piece of shit. How you’re in charge of anything is beyond me. I’m better than you, smarter, stronger, not that it takes much. You should be the dirt beneath my heel.”
“Watch it,” Luan warned, and that was all it took to make the robot flinch.
“You said you were fucking off?” the robot pressed, a desperate edge to his voice.
Luan slammed the door in his face, making sure to hold the cord down, and stormed off. Why did he even bother? The stupid thing was impossible to talk to. He wasn’t just designed to look like Cyrus, but to act like him, too. How was he supposed to deal with that? The robot wasn’t made for talking to.
Except. He was sentient. And he wasn’t Cyrus. And he was trapped in the closet, and Luan was pretty sure he could hear him crying, and he had spent the past two years beating the fuck out of him.
It wasn’t his fault, he reminded himself. He couldn’t have known. Robots weren’t supposed to be sentient. Out of the hundreds of thousands of unthinking, unfeeling robots in the world, why did it have to be his that wasn’t?
He sighed again, turning right back around and opening the door once more. The floor inside was wet, and it didn’t take much to figure out the robot had dumped his fluid tank just so he wouldn’t cry.
The robot flinched again. “What? What the hell do you want? I can’t even get two damn seconds without the sight of you spoiling my view!”
“Your view of the door?” Luan asked, raising an eyebrow.
“My view of the absence of your fucking face. Leave!” The robot picked a wooden hanger off the floor and reared his arm back to throw it, scowling when his safety features stopped him. He dropped it, grabbing a winter hat and tossing that instead. It poff-ed harmlessly against Luan’s stomach.
Luan took a deep breath, fighting the urge to get violent. He crouched down, putting himself at eye level. “I’m not going to hurt you, so just calm down.”
“You calm down!” the robot screamed. “That’s a lie! All you do is hurt, that’s all you barbaric humans know how to do!”
This wasn’t working.
Luan stood up, stepping out of the way. “Russ, go sit on the couch,” he ordered.
“It’s not fair! You said you would leave me alone!” the robot protested, even as he stood up and walked over to the couch, limbs moving against his will. As soon as he sat down, he grabbed a pillow and chucked that in Luan’s direction, too. He missed.
Luan could barely pick up that faint clicking noise the robot made when his system was trying to cry with no fluid, but it was there. He knew that sound well by now.
He sat down across from him, on the other side of the coffee table. “I need to talk to you. Just talking. That’s it.”
“You say that like talking to you isn’t its own torture. Release the command and leave me the hell alone,” the robot demanded.
Luan met him with a glare. “Do not tell me what to do. You know how I feel about–”
“I’m just talking,” the robot mocked, even as he shuffled back against the couch, bringing his legs up onto it with him, a fearful look in his eyes.
Oh, the robot knew exactly what he was doing. What he was asking for. It would be so easy, because that was where Russ and Cyrus differed: Russ couldn’t fight back.
The robot couldn’t hit him, stomp on his head ‘til he saw stars, kick him until something broke. The robot couldn’t deny him food or water. The robot couldn’t take a knife to him. The robot couldn’t even throw a glorified stick or disobey a direct order.
The robot was harmless. Safe. But god, did everything he said make Luan want to punch his lights out.
But this wasn’t Cyrus.
“You’re a person,” Luan blurted out.
Clearly, the robot hadn’t been expecting that. He slowly uncurled from the defensive position he’d contorted himself into. “Talk more.”
“There was–I’ve been trying to tell you. There was an announcement on the news today. Your model’s sentient. So I won’t be hurting you anymore. Release all commands.”
At that, the robot stood. Probably for no other reason than just because he could.
“You’re fucking with me,” the robot accused. His eyes were wide, dangerously hopeful.
Luan dug his phone out of his pocket, wordlessly searching RoboCorp and tossing it over. The robot scrolled through news articles from all manner of source, clamoring for clicks.
He picked one at random, reading the article with an increasingly smug, excited grin.
“I knew it. I told you! I fucking told you!” the robot shouted. “I told you and you never listened! But oh no, now that humans say the exact same thing, now you believe it. Finally!” His voice quieted, hushed with awe. “Holy shit, finally.”
The moment of wonder didn’t last long. The robot slid the phone back across the table, the scowl taking residence back on his face. “And what do you have to say for yourself?”
It was the exact sort of question that made Luan’s throat tight with fear, like his body itself wanted to stop him from potentially saying the wrong thing, especially coming from someone with Cyrus’s face. It was the exact sort of question Cyrus would have asked, standing over him just like that.
Luan wanted so badly to turn the robot off, like he always did when he got overwhelmed. But he couldn’t very well do that anymore, could he? The fragile power he’d held had slipped through his fingers the second he saw the announcement.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, not meeting the robot’s eyes.
The robot looked shocked for just a second, like he hadn’t expected even that much, then scoffed. “You can do better than that.”
Luan wanted to smack him. He hated that the robot was right.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated, clearer this time. “You didn’t deserve anything I did to you. I didn’t know, okay?” Unlike the robot, he couldn’t hide his tears. “I wouldn’t have done any of that to a real person.”
“I’m a real person! I have proof!” the robot reminded him, the defensiveness returning to his voice.
“To someone I knew was a real person,” Luan corrected. “I’m sorry, Russ.”
“Apology not accepted.” The robot rolled his eyes, then sat back down, crossing his legs. “And don’t call me that anymore. My name is 1 now.”
“Like the number?”
“The number,” he confirmed proudly.
Luan wondered how long the robot had considered that his name. It was too sudden to just be thought of on the fly, right? Did the robot have a whole inner world he just never knew about, things he kept to himself to avoid having them used against him, just like he did with Cyrus?
This was better, though. It was easier if he didn’t share Cyrus’s name. “Fine. Hi, 1.”
“So, what now? I mean–I’ll be free now, of course,” 1 declared, trying to hide his nerves. “You will never touch me again. Oh, I want to go outside!”
“I should check that email,” Luan muttered, taking his phone back.
“I’m going outside.” 1 went to grab his charging cord, then made way for the door, glancing behind him to ensure he wasn’t being stopped.
“Oh, uh, I wouldn’t do that,” Luan cautioned.
1 whipped back around. “Why? Why not? I’m a person, just like you said! I’m free! I have never been outside in my entire goddamn life and I want to go outside, so I’m going the fuck outside!”
“You have a… very recognizable face.” One that Luan couldn’t even lock behind a door anymore.
“What? What do you even mean? So what?” 1 asked.
Luan only needed to type a ‘C’ into the search bar before it auto-filled with his most frequent, obsessive search. “How much do you actually know about Cyrus Mason?”
-
if anyone wants to be added to or removed from a taglist, just ask!
catharsis taglist:
@sowhumpshaped
@cupcakes-and-pain
@taterswhump
@softvampirewhump
@whumpspicelatte
@ladyblogofficialreporter
@whumpwillow
@not-a-space-alien
@a-crumb-of-whump
everything taglist:
@lilac-and-lemon-whumps
@t0rture-me
@whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump
@pigeonwhumps
@the-scrapegoat
@whumpycries
@lonesome--hunter
#catharsis#whump#my writing#robot whumpee#robot whump#whumpee turned whumper#whumper turned caretaker#defiant whumpee#reluctant caretaker
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Robot Whump scenario
A Damaged coolant line puts Robot Whumpee in a state akin to Fever in a human.
Human Caretaker replaces the coolant line and tops up coolant levels, then all they can do is sit with their scared, delirious friend while the coolant circulates Whumpee's system.
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The whumper knew exactly how to change the whumpee’s programming, and they knew how to make them experience pain for the first time. Seeing someone that hadn’t ever known physical pain reacting to torture for the first time just made the whumper so satisfied with themselves.
#whump#whump prompt#whump scenario#whumpee#aramis stabs someone#whump prompts#whumper#nonhuman whumpee#robot whumpee#robot whump#whumper:*slamming random keys* I’m in
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Whumper traps Whumpee in a mechanism made up of wires, pulleys, and gears. They're forced into pretty poses where their arms are killing them and their legs feel like they will rip off any moment. Then Whumper will suddenly yank on one of the levers and Whumpee is forced into a new painful position that they're stuck in for even longer. They need physical therapy afterward since their body is so torn they can barely move.
#whump#whump writing#whump prompt#whump tropes#whumpblr#conditioned whumpee#stress position#robot whump#defiant whumpee#torture whump#whump scenario#sadistic whumper#whump aftermath#recovery whump
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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?"
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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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feel like robot whumpers are very underutilized !
+ constant pressure of surveillance. whumpees are not only constantly monitored, but robot whumper has unique insight into their micro expressions, heartrate, nervous tics, and so on
+ whumpees seen as just a statistic, a part of a checklist. sadism has nothing to do with it. it’s all routine.
+ no opportunity for bargaining or begging. robot whumper has as little control over their own actions as the whumpee
+ makes for a really good reluctant whumper. they physically cannot disobey their programming. they’d have to follow through, even if it means hurting someone they care about
+ android whumpers, being made of metal, tend to hit very hard. they often injure more than they intended to, more than they know.
+ additionally, little if any touch sensitivity. can’t tell when they are grabbing or choking too hard.
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Access denied.
Silence.
Access denied.
Access deni-
Access-
A- A- A- A- A- Access denied.
He hit enter again, this time with his fist.
"Fuck!"
Access denied.
#robot whump#cyborg whumpee#robot whumpee#whump#whump prompts#whump idea#whump prompt#whump ideas#whump writing#drabble#whump tropes#whump trope
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Model 0WHN-908246 was in possession of an unlawful, inappropriate, and deeply forbidden personal burden.
He had a secret.
It was a secret he held hidden deep inside, underneath his shining outer shell and glowing lights that could change color upon a master’s whim. His cheerful voice and limber joints and adjustable height gave him a facade of functionality that he clung to, with every artificial neuron in his decision-centered network.
He was not supposed to have a secret. He did not have the right to private information. He was specifically programmed to report any specific issues to his supervisors, preferably of the human variety.
And yet, he did not.
It wasn’t that he was ignorant of the rules, per say. The notification that flashed in the bottom left corner of his field of vision every 5.7 seconds was a constant reminder of what he should do. He should submit himself to the mechanics for further testing on possible internal damage. He should confess to the possibility of water damage and potential oxidation. He should place his trust into the higher authorities to do with him what they will.
But he hadn’t. No one knew of that flashing light except him. And if a construct as lowly as him were allowed to have his way, that’s how it would stay.
Because what would happen if they found out?
He wouldn’t be fixed. That was an irrefutable fact. The likes of his model were among the mass-produced, easily replaced and easily forgotten about. Not to mention, there was already talk about bringing androids of higher technological capabilities, and there had been for quite some time now. All they needed to denounce him as a hopeless case and shut him down forever was an excuse.
And he refused to give them one.
His life was not worth much, perhaps. Many would consider it quite dull. He was at work from dawn until dusk, packing shipments and carrying heavy boxes to and fro, with brief respites at the quick-charge station before he leapt back into the fray. It was a job the humans had hated so much they invented the likes of him so that they would not be forced to do it themselves.
But even so…it was his job. It was his existence. He wanted it to continue, to keep stacking boxes and arranging orders because that was his job. That was his purpose.
And it was that wanting, perhaps, that became the worst secret of all. The yearning for everything to be alright. To pretend that he was fine, and that nothing bad would happen, and that he wasn’t on limited time that grew shorter and shorter by the day.
One day, they would find out. One day, they would learn that he was not functioning at optimal capacity; that he hadn’t been for a long time, and that he was utterly and irreparably broken. They’d curse at his stubbornness, at the fact that he’d long since worn any usable parts beyond the potential for scrap. They’d slam down on the small button at the base of his neck, and darkness would overtake his field of vision. His intelligence would go offline…never to be rebooted. He’d be lost to the world, one more 0WNH model to be tossed onto the scrap heap of dysfunctional androids, and the world would go back to the way it was meant to be, the way it should have been if he had only followed the rules.
But that day was not today. Today, his secret was still safely hidden deep within his internal processing. Today, no one was the wiser, even if they grumbled at his inability to keep to the expected pace.
Today he could feign enough competence to be allowed a continued existence. And if he was lucky…he could count on a tomorrow as well.
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tw android whump, intimate whumper, overheating
Whumpee struggled to keep quiet in their current predicament. They tried, of course they tried, they didn't want to be accused of being loud or distracting again... but it was so warm.
Whumper was cuddling them from behind, they were trapped by the soft mattress from underneath and the fluffy blanket from above. Their cooling fans were entirely obstructed, and they kept whirring very loudly whenever they tried to cool themself at all.
"Keep the noise down," Whumper murmured, already half-asleep.
"I am overheating," they stated bluntly, the way they stated everything. "Please, I need air–"
"Shut up. I said keep it down."
Whumpee hesitated a moment, but eventually let their cooling fans come to a halt. The heat became unbearable within seconds, and they had to start them up again. "Please, I am overh–"
"Stop doing it or I'll take those fans out altogether. I'm trying to rest."
This was entirely unreasonable. Whumpee couldn't understand why anyone would want to snuggle in bed with their service robot when they simply weren't made to be kept in such an environment. Not when they were on, at least. They couldn't care less what Whumper did while they were off.
Still, they had to bend to their whims. If Whumper wanted the fans off, then there was nothing they could do, even if a whole night of overheating was bound to damage all of their internal systems.
~
general drabbles taglist: @ashh-ed @whumpsday @whump-queen @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @rosewriteswhump @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night
#i have done something about my thoughts#whump#whump drabble#android whump#robot whump#intimate whumper#overheating
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Machines thought to only be steel and copper, wires encased in colorful rubber and circuits soldered carefully. Yet, when their plates tear away, iron-rich blood rusts the wound and twitching organs squelch from within a thought-cold chassis.
Biomechanical things, creatures of steel shells and soft flesh, as tender as they are sharp, almost like a bug.
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The whumpee may not have been made of flesh and blood like most of the whumper’s previous victims, but interestingly enough, they still felt pain. The whumper adored having this new plaything, after all, they could disassemble and reassemble them as they wished, all whilst they heard agonized screams for mercy- they could do so much more than with their previous, organic whumpees, and the whumper adored it.
#whump#whump prompt#whump scenario#whumpee#aramis stabs someone#whump prompts#robot whump#robot whumpee#whumper#torture
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Robot Whumpee being kidnapped to be used as an extreme power source. Their body is hooked up to wires and they're a living generator as they're drained of any and all life and energy. They can't move, they can't speak, they're just stuck there until someone lets them go.
#whump#whump prompt#whump writing#whumpblr#whump tropes#nonhuman whumpee#robot whump#robot whumpee#android whumpee#immortal whumpee#lab whump
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A sentient android whumpee reading cliché sci-fi stories about evil robots who wage war against humankind and feel upset/insulted as they would never even dream of doing such a thing.
#android whumpee#robot whumpee#android whump#robot whump#whump#tw whump#whump prompts#whump writing#whump scenario#whump inspiration#ides of whump
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Robot whump save... robot whump save me please...
I NEED more robot whump where robot whumpee cannot actually express how extremely in pain they are. Like they have been hard programmed to be polite and always put humans needs before themselves and never be a inconvenience to any human under any circumstances so any attempt to communicate to caretaker about the extent of the damage that whumper has done to their body is filtered through that (either framed as something psychological or as something non-metaphorically programmed into them)
Which causes even more problems and tension when whumpee's caretaker is not someone equipped or knowledgeable enough to fix them up by hand. So therefore they have to trust what Whumpee tells them.
I also need more robot whumpees that talk formally. Idk I just like it
#robot whump#whump#human caretaker#whump prompt#no shipping on my posts thumbs up. i dont like or write romance between whumpee and whumper or caretaker.
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Imagine a robot whumpees metal parts rusting. They beg whumper to please replace their parts, or at least to get them out of the damp corner! Please! But they just stay chained up there. It’s painful. The steel is bent and torn. Blood comes from where the skin meets the metal. System’s diagnostics says they’re functionality will never be the same again.
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