five dialogue prompts for characters who have a hard time resting :)
"Don't sit up. You'll rip your stitches."
"You need to calm down. Your heart rate is spiking."
"Stop trying to get up. I don't want you fainting again."
"Lie back down, please. Your fever is too high for you to be moving around."
"I know we have to keep moving, but if we don't treat that wound now, it'll slow us down even more."
Whumpee held captive in a cell and unconscious from the infected wound on their side. Whumper coming in and apathetically pouring alcohol/antiseptic on it. Whumpee screaming themselves awake, their body writhing from the agonizing pain.
OR
Whumpee slouched against a wall with a hand pressed to their wound, blood seeping through their fingers. Caretaker coming over with a rag, a bottle of antiseptic, and gauze. Apologizing to Whumpee but that it needs to be done. As the wound is disinfected, Whumpee throws their head back against the wall with a hoarse shout, losing consciousness as a single tear falls from beneath their lashes.
a watched nut never busts. or something. i dont fucking know what you people find funny anymore. 9/11.
“So this is what you do? You find little broken dolls, fix them up only to break them again?”
Warnings: dehumanization, degradation
"You are completely useless," the Handler chided as the weapon prostrated themself at the Handler's feet. "Boss gave you one job and you can't even do that right. One simple job. You are a useless waste of space."
"Yes, Handler. Of course, Handler. A waste of space," the weapon repeated. They tried to make themself as small as possible. Tried to make the Handler see how sorry they were for failing. Tried to do anything to avoid punishment.
"As far as weapons go, you are the least useful. Weapons are lesser beings of course, but you," the Handler sneered, "you are the worst of them all. I have half a mind to throw you away."
"Please," the weapon begged, "don't throw me away. I will be better. I can be better. I promise. Please, Handler."
"Then prove yourself worthy," the Handler said coldly. "Finish what Boss ordered you to do and I won't throw you in the trash. You aren't a soldier. You aren't a human. You are a weapon. And you better make yourself useful. Useless weapons are to be discarded for better ones."
Tags: @mousepaw @jumpywhumpywriter @knightinbatteredarmor @piplupfluffwritingstuff2 @anightmarishwhump
@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @celestialsoyeon @st0rmm @ay5ksal @pedro-pedro-pedro-pedro-pe
@pepeniascat @sowhumpful @whump-till-ya-jump
Hey, don't cry. Go ahead and take that whumpee by the hair and slam their head against a sturdy surface and you'll feel a lot better <3
Poisoning method of choice? (Injection, ingestion, inhalation, etc)
Ugghhh...all of the above...im such a whore for poison and drugging
I love it all
Force it in my mouth
Maybe by kissing me
Strapping my arm down and slowly pushing it into my veins
Holding my face while you make me breathe it in...
fuck my stupid baka immortal test subject life ⚠️⚠️⚠️
fanfic writing culture isn’t “oh dang! I wanted to write about this prompt with this character but someone else already wrote it, so now I can’t”.
fanfic writing culture is always “two cakes is better than one. the more the merrier. there can ever be enough fics of this character with this prompt!”
Holy Jesus Christ In Hell WHAT IS THIS BEAUTIFUL THING 😲
My touch burns? Oh, no, Father, I'm so sorry. Do you want me to stop...? No? Of course you don't. Shh, shh. It's alright. Does it hurt when I press myself against your back? No? Oh, don't squirm like that, Father, don't be afraid.
I'm cleansing you of your sin. My hand around your cock is helping relieve you of everything pent up inside of you. See how you're already spilling into my hand, and how your hips shake? Of course it burns, it's like putting alcohol on a wound. It's only to purify. No more build up, no more desires, just let go and let me help you.
Your voice is so sweet, Father. You sing your hymnals so beautifully during service, of course your moans carry as well. Shh, shh, let me draw your desperation out of you. That's it. That's it.
Cry for God all you want. He can hear you. He knows you're on the path to righteousness. All it takes is you cumming in my hand and your vision going white. Really, quite easy if you asked me. Then my touch won't burn anymore. You'll be clean.
A whumpee who was brutally tortured for information on their master, is eventually returned to their master who then proceeds to brutally torture them for potentially giving up valuable information.
❌ Whump Prompts | Fics ❌ Sebastien | Pagan 35 ❌ He / Him | Writer / Artist ❌
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