#gagged tw

[i-can-even-burn-salad]

Chapter 35

Glass Shards

Warnings: Lady whump, restrained, gagged, forced to watch, attempted rape, crude/explicit language, emeto (not overly descriptive but sure related to:), suffocation, broken ribs (implied), beating, blood, so much blood, a cut throat, impalement and burns, like, severe life ending burns to the face, which brings us to the next part, death death death (yes that’s 3 deaths)

So, uh. I think (outside the two nightmares) this has by far the most warnings for any Glass Shards chapter. I don’t think any of those are a surprise after the last one, though :’)

If you are concerned about the sexual assault, there’s a slightly edited version of this chapter here, where it has been mostly cut out.

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“Leave her… alone.”

Damien’s voice was weak, trembling. The barely concealed terror in it made Merridy’s own fear all the more real. 

The bandit leader dropped her head and stood up. “Or what?” When he didn’t get a reply, he laughed, reaching for Merridy’s bound feet. “Don’t worry, you can watch.” 

He dragged her along, closer to the tree Damien was tied to. The rope around her wrists got caught on something, almost tearing her arms from their joints as she was dragged on. This time, she was sure it was blood she could feel running down her fingers.

The moment the man let go of her feet, she kicked him. Without enough room to move, she barely grazed his knee. He didn’t even waver. Instead, he kicked her in return, and her world shattered in pain. It felt like a lance of fire was tearing her apart. Her chest refused to expand, no matter how desperately her lungs were begging for air. Writhing on the ground, trying to escape the pain, she could only focus on getting small gasps of air past the gag. 

Shouting, muffled at the edge of her consciousness. She knew that voice. The shouts turned into screams, sending a shiver down her spine. 

Damien.

She forced her eyes to open, blinking until her vision cleared and she could see him. Blood dripped off his chin, and his eyes gleamed purple with murderous rage. But she knew him. She could see the terror lurking behind. She had seen it so often, every time he awoke screaming, every time he lashed out in fear. 

The rope around his neck had started to turn red, the skin beneath it rubbed raw and bleeding. It wouldn't take long for bruises to form, just like the area around his left eye was already swelling. It wasn’t only his nightmares she was reminded of. 

Don’t hurt him.

Her jaw felt like it was breaking apart. She rubbed her cheek over the ground, hoping to dislodge the cloth, but it was bound too tightly.

“Gods, I can’t wait to cut your fucking throat,” the man said, kicking Damien in the stomach. “But first, you can watch me fuck your woman. I’m gonna show her what a real man is.”

He drew a dagger, and all color left Damien’s face. Merridy swallowed. The way he pressed himself against the tree broke her heart. For a moment, she remembered every single scar on his body. She was almost glad as the man turned away from Damien and crouched down in front of her. She was less glad about the gleeful grin on his lips as he grabbed her feet and cut the rope apart. He wasn’t careful about it, slicing the skin on her ankle as well.

The moment her legs were free, she kicked him again. She had aimed for his head, but only managed to hit his chest, earning her a disgruntled groan—and a fist to the face. It was the second hit that made her heart stutter, as her attempt to draw breath fell short on a bubbling feeling in her nose. When she tried harder, blood started to burn in her airways, running slowly down her throat.

Merridy threw her head from side to side, trying to shake off the blood, hoping, praying that he hadn’t broken her nose. The man hit her a few times more, but the pain faded against the panic that had taken over her mind. The world turned dark around the edges, wadded in cotton.

A voice. Begging. Pleading. Crying. 

Damien.

With her cheek pressed against the ground, she managed to suck in just enough air to stay conscious. A veil of blood and tears tinted her vision pink. It turned Damien’s tear-streaked face all blurry as she finally found him again.

She kept her gaze fixed on him as the man pulled down her pants and pushed a hand under her shirt. The touch of his fingers on her stomach didn’t feel real. The way he grabbed and squeezed her breast didn’t feel real. Nothing felt real. It felt like her mind and body were breaking apart. Like Damien was the only thing stopping her from giving up, from losing herself.

When the man shoved two fingers inside her, she closed her eyes. She didn’t want Damien to watch this. She didn’t want to see him watching this.

She knew she should fight, but she had no more strength left. Her body was shaking against her will, a bone deep chill creeping into her limbs. The man’s taunting words were lost on her, more so than on Damien. Somewhere, far away, she could still hear him cry in response. It made her cry as well.

The fingers vanished. Nothing happened. Seconds passed, every single one dragging on like an eternity, and still, nothing happened.

A strange, guttural noise finally made Merridy open her eyes, terrified of what new horrors she would find. The man knelt between her legs, one hand wrapped around his erect penis, a look of absolute horror on his face. He made another noise, this one sounding almost pitiful.

“What the fuck, Marek?” one of the other men called over from the fire. “We know your puny dick is a terrible sight, but you should be used to it by now.” 

The two men laughed. Then they started to scream.

“No no no no no no no!” Panicked movement near the campfire. Jumping, flailing. “Fuck! Ah, fuck.”

Merridy couldn’t help but look, finding one of the men doing a grotesque dance next to the fire, while the other was scrambling back from it on all fours. Her own terror was almost forgotten, the gag the only thing that stopped a hysterical laugh from leaving her lips. What was—

The realization hit her like lightning. She whipped her head around, to see Damien staring grimly at the scene, his eyes glowing purple, a look of utter concentration on his face. 

She should use the opportunity he gave her, but she couldn’t move. Her limbs had lost all strength, and she couldn’t form a clear thought. She was still shaking uncontrollably, and the more she tried to suppress it, the worse it got.

The man in front of her scrambled away from her. When he came too close to the fire, he yelped, looking around in a panic. He looked from his hand to his crotch and back to his hand, sobs shaking him as he felt for his face.

She knew it was an illusion Damien was weaving. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know what the man saw.

“It’s not real.” 

The voice from behind the fire grabbed her attention, making her turn her head.

“It’s a fucking— ah fuck, ow! It’s not real. Listen to me. Listen, for fucks… ow.” The only man who was left standing bent down to pick up a sword. Despite the pained expression on his face, his eyes were hard and cold. “Kill him, then it’ll stop.”

No!

Merridy jerked around, trying to move between Damien and the man. She had to stop him. Helpless as Damien was, he would just kill him. The terror of losing him was stronger than the pain, stronger than the need for air, at least for a moment.

She wasn’t fast enough. The man sidestepped her easily, lifting his upper lip in a sneer as she sank down, a sob getting lost in the gag. The need to breathe caught up with her, and she couldn’t fulfill it quickly enough. Her chest was fluttering, her vision fading. She turned her head, unable to stop crying. If these were going to be their last moments, she had to see him.

But Damien was gone.

Merridy was still staring at the empty ropes hanging off the tree when a wet gurgle sounded. Where a moment before the man had been mid-stride, he was now frozen on the spot, a look of disbelief on his face. The sword clattered to the ground as he reached for his throat, blood bubbling between his fingers.

Damien stood behind him, the bloody dagger in his hand matching the blood on his skin. He kicked the man in the back of his knees, so he would collapse faster, then bent down to pick up the sword. It was his own. He weighed it in his hand. The look on his face could only be described as murderous rage.

“You… fucking.” The man at the fire—the bandit leader, who a moment ago had tried to rape her—was scrambling to his feet. “I’ll gut you like a fucking pig.” 

Perhaps the dead one’s warning words had reached him, or Damien’s concentration was fading. It was obvious that the man wasn’t able to fully shake off the illusion, but it was enough for him to draw his dagger.

Damien took a step towards him, to face him. With the sword, his reach was longer, but he was obviously in pain and unsteady on his legs. The bandit leader easily dodged his attempted strikes, each new one clumsier than the last.

Merridy looked around, searching frantically for anything that might help her. Her gaze fell onto the dead bandit. The dagger Damien had used to cut his throat was lying in the puddle of blood that had spread under him. If she could reach it, she might be able to free herself. Determined, she started to shuffle towards it, only for her muscles to lock up as a fresh wave of pain tore through her chest. Tears of frustration welled in her eyes. Instead of using her shoulders, she tried to drag herself forwards with her legs. She had to move. To free herself. To help. 

A gloating cry made her whip her head around. Damien had taken too big of a swing. The man evaded his blow, moving to his right side, where he tore the dagger across his ribs. Damien sank to one knee. He held onto the sword for one more moment, then the man kicked him in the chest, and Damien crumpled. With a triumphant howl, the man ripped the sword out of his hand.

“Mhmhm!” Merridy tried to shout, but no word made it out. She could only watch in horror as Damien clutched his bleeding side, seemingly unaware of how the man raised the blade. Move, move, please, move. She sobbed into the gag, knowing that there was no way he’d be quick enough.

The sword came down, and Damien vanished.

Carried by the momentum, the man stumbled a step towards the fire before he managed to catch himself. Damien, suddenly kneeling behind him, rammed his shoulder into the man’s thighs. It was enough to make him lose balance, a terrified scream on his lips as he fell headfirst into the fire. 

He instantly tried to get up, away from the flames, but Damien followed, throwing himself onto the man’s legs. He shoved him back down, getting his knees under him so could use his hand to push down on the man’s back. Damien’s arm was trembling, his face so close to the fire, some of his hair started to crinkle in the heat. 

Agonized screams turned into choked wheezes as the man’s frantic movements slowly stilled. Damien held him down until he stopped struggling, and then a few seconds longer. When he eventually let go, sitting back on his heels and rolling the man out of the embers, the bandit was all but dead. His hair was gone. Where once his face had been, there was only melted, charred skin. His body still twitched in mindless panic, but even if his lungs weren’t already burned as well, no air made it past what was left of his mouth and nose.

Merridy had barely started to comprehend what she was seeing when the smell hit her. She turned her head away, staring up to the canopy, trying desperately to fight back the rising bile. If she threw up now, it was over. She would die, just when it looked like they had a chance to get out of this alive.

The moment she thought she had the nausea under control, she turned her head to watch Damien. Half of his shirt was already drenched in blood as he picked up the sword one last time. He walked over to the third man, who hadn’t joined the fight at all. Cowering on the ground, a tree at his back, he had wrapped his arms around himself, mumbling mindless fragments of words. Damien stopped in front of him and, without hesitation, rammed the sword into his stomach.

Merridy winced as the blade got stuck in the wood, staying upright, even as Damien let go of the handle. When the man tried to reach for the sword, Damien kicked his hand aside, then stomped on his fingers. Without giving him a chance to try again, Damien repeated the procedure with the man’s other hand.

With her heart hammering up to her throat, Merridy watched as the bandit convulsed around the blade, blood foaming at his mouth. She should feel something about it. Pity, perhaps, or at least disgust. She couldn’t.

Damien turned towards her, his face so terribly pale, his eyes dull. His steps were unsteady as he started to walk, as if he could crumple at any moment. The tattered shirt at his side fluttered, revealing crimson blood and pale white where a deep cut had split the skin.

After all that had happened, after all she had seen, it was this that drove her over the edge. Seeing Damien’s ribs made a new wave of nausea wash over her, one she was powerless against. Bile burned in her throat and in her airways, while the lack of air set her lungs on fire. Weakly, she shook her head, as if that motion could succeed in dislodging the fabric, when nothing else had. Vaguely, she was aware of a shadow falling over her, her vision already fading.

Help me. Help me help me help me.

Damien fell to his knees next to her and grabbed the piece of fabric holding the gag in place. In his haste to rip it off, his fingernails scratched her cheek and he tore out some of her hair that had been caught in the knot. With trembling fingers, he pulled out the gag as well, wasting no time with being careful. The moment her mouth was free, he grabbed her shoulder, to turn her to her side. Coughing and spitting, Merridy curled up, sobs alternating with desperate gasps for air.

For a moment, Damien kept his hand on her shoulder, holding her steady and keeping her from collapsing into the spit beneath her face. Only when she had calmed down a little did he let go. She watched as he picked up the dagger from the puddle of blood, then closed her eyes as he cut the ropes that bound her wrists.

It was over. It was over.

When she opened her eyes again, her gaze fell on his bloodstained shirt, and on the blood dripping off the hem. It wasn’t over yet.

Damien, she wanted to say. Her voice failed her. “Da… en,” she tried again, as brokenly as if she had screamed all this time, not merely tried to.

Merridy propped herself up on one arm, ignoring the pain in her shoulder and the trembling of her hand. She reached for his arm, and her touch finally made him look up. Fuck, fuck, fuck. His face was basically white.

“You’re. Bleeding.” Moving hurt, but she managed to sit up, even if she was still so out of breath, she couldn’t go five seconds without another coughing fit. “Damien?” With her hand on his arm, she tried to catch his gaze. It went straight through her. 

“Damien.” Her voice became shrill as despair gripped her heart. “Damien!”

He didn’t react. Instead, he collapsed into her arms.

[ID: The top image is a banner covered in colorful glass shards. Across it is written the title of the story, glass shards, in a white to bright cyan gradient with a black outline. The font looks like written with a broad paintbrush. All other images in this post are purely ornamental lines. End ID.]

It’s fine. It’s just a little several inches long cut that goes to the bone :)

Also, if I was still doing my BTHB, which I am absolutely not, this would be the fill for “Burns” :)

[whumppmuhw]

Whumptober Day 28: Peer pressure*

tw: multiple whumpers, group whump, gagged, restraints, blood, weapons, beating, slicing/cutting, hesitant whumper, (newly) sadistic whumper, long post

*alternate prompt

Multiple whumpers but everyone except the main two characters (whumper and whumpee) have names so it's less confusing :)

also more neopronouns!! because my characters deserve it

...

The music stopped, and the host of the party stood on a chair. She whistled loudly to get everyone's attention. Whumper didn't know her, he had only come to this party because of his friend.

"Alright everyone, time for the main event. Jonah, could you bring them out, please?"

Two guys, one supposedly Jonah, unlocked the basement door and headed down. While they were retrieving whatever was down there, the host and her friends closed all of the blinds and turned off most of the lights. Someone unrolled a worn out rug in the center of the living room, and the lamps around it were the only source of light.

Whumper was suspicious of...well, he didn't really know what was happening. He felt slightly anxious, and wanted to know what the hell was going on.

With impeccable timing as always, Whumper's friend Micah appeared beside him. Zhe was grinning, in an almost malicious way. "Are you ready, Whumper?" zhe whispered.

"Ready for what? Why did you drag me here?" he whispered sharply.

"Well, I know you enjoy parties, and the ladies here are very pretty-"

"You know that's not what I meant." Their conversation was interrupted by one of the host's close friends, telling the pair to find their places in a circle of everyone sitting around the rug. The two sat down next to each other, looking around at their fellow partygoers.

Micah chuckled softly. "Yeah, I know what you mean. So you know how you like all of those violent games, ones where you beat people up and get to mess around with them?"

"Yeah..." Whumper didn't think he would like where this was heading. They were just games, after all. Right?

"Well, you never seemed completely satisfied with how those games go. I thought you would appreciate the change for something more...realistic."

"The fuck do you mean by 'real-'"

He was cut off when everyone turned to watch Jonah and his friend drag someone up from the basement, kicking and struggling. Ae was covered in scars and wearing only a tanktop and shorts, which were torn and bloodied. Aer mouth was gagged, too tightly, preventing aem from screaming.

Whumper was mortified when everyone around him oohed and ahhed, including Micah. His heart dropped to his stomach when they dragged aem into the middle of the circle and tied aer arms and legs together. The party host stepped into the circle and planted her foot on aer back.

Whumper wanted to think about literally anything else, even for a second. He leaned into Micah, asking, "What's her name?"

"Carly. I thought I told you. Now shut up and pay attention."

"Everyone, I want you to meet Whumpee." Carly dug her foot deeper into aer back, making aem whimper under the gag. "Ae/aem. I want you all to be respectful of aer pronouns, it's the only respect I think ae'll get tonight."

A few people chuckled. Whumper wanted to get up and run, but the atmosphere of the room told him he was just as trapped as Whumpee.

"Thank you, Jonah," Carly stated as the stronger of the pair who had brought Whumpee up dragged a trunk full of weapons towards the group. Blades of all sorts, a whip, ropes, anything meant to make someone hurt. Micah was looking on with glee as zhe took a sip from zhir drink. Whumper thought he was going to faint.

"How we're going to play this: I'll draw a name from the hat with all of the guests' names in it, and you'll get a minute to do whatever you want. You can take something from the trunk if you want, but anything's fair game. Oh, except for killing. I want aem alive at the end of the night. Everyone ready?"

The guests started cheering, and Whumper clapped so he wouldn't look out of place. Someone handed Carly the hat, and she pulled out the first name. "Drew!"

Carly stepped away as Drew got up, a scrawny guy in a dress shirt and slacks. He peered into the trunk for a moment, pulling out a baseball bat. He grinned and walked over to Whumpee, who was curled in on aemself.

Whumper started to dissociate as the bat came down. People were cheering, Micah was enjoying it, and Drew seemed to be having the time of his life. Whumper's eyes were fixed on Whumpee, and he wanted to free aem more than anything. Whumpee didn't deserve this. Whumpee didn't deserve this. Whumpee didn't deserve this..

"Whumper!"

He snapped out of it. At some point Drew's time was over, and he had put away the bat and sat down. Whumper didn't really remember that, or why Micah was patting his back and people were cheering for him to get up.

"I don't feel so well, Micah."

"That's okay. Go release some of it. Come on, get up!"

Whumper got to his feet, feeling dizzy. He couldn't bear to look at Whumpee, so he went to the trunk and moved things around before pulling out a short dagger.

He hazily walked over to Whumpee and knelt beside aem. Aer eyes were wide, darting between Whumper's face and the blade.

"I'm so sorry," Whumper whispered, and Whumpee didn't look like ae believed him. Why would ae? I'm just going to hurt him, the same as everyone else here. I'm a monster.

Whumper brought the dagger up over his head, gripping tightly. He made the first slash and watched the dagger glide as it opened skin and fresh blood poured out. It had cut Whumpee's arm deeply, and ae tried to pull away.

For some reason, he wasn't exactly sure, Whumper didn't want that. The people around him were cheering, and some part of him told him he wanted more. The blade came down again, slicing Whumpee's lower back.

Everyone was watching in awe. Blood splattered all over Whumper's hands and clothes as he hurt Whumpee again and again. I wonder why Micah didn't bring me here sooner, he thought. I don't know why I was so scared. This is so easy; better than any video game.

He didn't want to stop when Carly called time; so to finish he stood up and kicked Whumpee right in the first cut, making aem squirm. His thoughts blocked out the cheers as he dropped the dagger in the trunk and took his spot next to Micah.

Why did that feel so good? Why did it have to end, would this be the last time?

"Dude, that was amazing! I told you you would love it." Micah was smiling, and Whumper wondered why he felt bad in the first place.

He was giddy. So, so giddy. He cheered the rest of the night, even louder when Micah got a turn. When it was over, Whumpee was wrapped in a towel to prevent blood spilling everywhere as ae was brought down to the basement and guests started to leave, thanking Carly for the amazing evening.

"Don't thank me, thank Whumpee!" she would say, and Whumper laughed the first time he heard it.

He and Micah volunteered to help clean up and were the last to leave. They chatted with Carly when everyone else left, revisiting the greatest moments of that night. Micah brought up dragging Whumper there at one point, then sat back and watched the conversation unfold.

"Wait, so you're telling me this was your first time?" Carly asked.

"Yeah, I wasn't sure I wanted to do it at first, but I'm glad I did."

"You did amazing!" Carly smiled, and Whumper blushed. "I'm glad you did, too."

"Why do you have aem down there in the first place? What'll happen after tonight?"

"Mostly just keeping aem down there and having some fun myself until I have some friends over or another party. It's fun, but you lose people quick when others are involved, and I don't know how much longer Whumpee will last."

"Well, I think it'd be a real shame if Whumpee had to die." Whumper wasn't sure where he was going with the conversation, but tonight he really didn't care.

"You're right," Carly said with a mischievous look. "I'll need to find someone else to bully soon anyway, and it'd be nice to have aem off my hands." She was waiting for him to respond, same as Micah. Zhe had never seen zhir friend like this before, and zhe think zhe liked this new Whumper.

"Well, I know someone who could take aem." Whumper smirked. "My basement is looking pretty empty right now."

"Ooooh, alright," Carly said playfully. "Ae's yours. How about I keep aem until next week, a final goodbye, then I'll help you set aem up."

"Sounds good to me. Micah, would you like to help me with my new friend?"

"You know I would. Though, if ae's going to die soon like Carly said, the body's yours to take care of."

"Deal." The three talked the night away, having a wonderful hell of a time at Whumpee's expense.

[a-reader-and-a-writer]

Miles Miller GIFs (Part 16)

Spoiler GIFs Below Cut

Masterlist for Whole Movie

TW: Gore, Blood, Tied Up, Gagged, Gun

[hurlyburlytopsyturvy]

a homestuck-ified meme bonanza

↓ ↓ references belooooww ↓ ↓ 

[aeonophagic]

[invincible]

[autocrats-in-love]

Prompt 233

"So, how have things been going?" the villain asked shyly.

The hero let out a muffled groan and rolled their eyes.

"Oops, sorry."

The villain pulled the gag down and leaned back against the interior wall of the armoured truck.

"So, tell me about yourself." they said.

[jammysworks]

smut request for reader giving conrad head?

smut after the cut

18+ MDNI

warnings: oral (make receiving), language, dacryphilia, hair gripping, throat fucking, gagging, deep throating, no matter how mean he seems conrad is a sweetie pie <3

word count: 0.4k

imagine the way conrad would go insane when you give him a blow job. he’s received them before but the way you do it is incomparable; tongue lapping at his tip and tracing the vein on the right side of his cock.

his absolute favorite part is when he can hear the light gagging sounds releasing from your throat when you dive your head down; your lips coating his length in drool.

like the gentleman he is, he used his hand to hold your hair in a makeshift ponytail, but went feral when you pulled yourself away from his cock—hand still jerking him off—when you told him to fuck your throat. you knew what you said did something to him but you didn’t think it would end with your mascara streaming down your face while he moved your head up and down in a fast motion.

the vibrations of your own moans shooting straight into his core, his tip leaking pre cum into your mouth while his hand released the back of your head, allowing you to take control again. a deep groan erupting from conrad’s kiss bitten and swollen lips when your tongue flattened against the bottom of his length and trailed it’s way up, reaching his red tip and kitten licking the area. “fuck..quit teasing me shit.” he chuckled ending with a gasp as you took all of him into your mouth at once. his orgasm producing in his lower abdomen as you continued to deep throat his cock.

you could feel his tip hitting the back of your mouth but you kept pushing him deeper down your throat until your gag reflex would appear and then you’d bring yourself back up, moving into the same position as before, until you felt his release coat the inside of your mouth and dribble down your throat. you swallow every drop, sticking your tongue out to show him as you jerked him off to help outride his orgasm. “damn that was good, baby.” he groaned as he guided you into his lap pampering kisses all over your face.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

I'm so sorry I'm pretty sure your bard au is supposed to be serious but oh my god I couldn't help but get strong Men In Tights and Monty Python and the Holy Grail vibes

Especially bc of Barnaby I would not put it past him to make a "your mom's a hamster" reference

no no it Is very silly. how can it not be when you've got the neighbors as the characters? silly central. ALSO YOU'RE SO RIGHT VERY STRONG MP&HG VIBES I FUCKING LOVE THAT MOVIE HERE'S SOME REFERENCES

but it is also real. when it's silly its silly and when it's serious!

it's serious.

[just-whump-and-suffering]

My Home Hero Ep 09

[kutiee]

&TEAM ↺ WAR CRY M/V

[whumppmuhw]

Whumptober Day 27: Forgotten, locked away

tw: major character deaths, murder (by stabbing), (unintentional) neglect, restraints, chains, gagged, rotting corpse

...

Whumpee was getting impatient, and a little angry. Whumper, that cruel, sadistic asshole, at least had the decency to consistently give them plenty of water and two meals a day.

It had been two days since Whumpee had seen them, let alone hearing them move around. They couldn't yell out due to the gag in their mouth, which was dry and sticky. Their limbs were chafed from being chained to the wall, and there was little give on the restraints for them to struggle. Their muscles were sore, their stomach was in constant pain, and if this was some awful game, they didn't want to play it anymore.

They tried screaming, even with the gag, but they were took weak to let out more than a pathetic mrrphmrrrmmm.

Whumpee let themself fall limp. They hated waiting, but they had no choice.

Right outside of the room Whumpee was locked in lay Whumper's corpse. The blood seeped into the wooden floor from multiple stab wounds. Whumper's killers had done it quickly and quietly, and would take it to their graves. No one was coming for them.

...

Whumpee had never been so lightheaded in their life. They were passing out spontaneously now, which made them all too aware of their situation, but at least it was passing the time. Speaking of time, Whumpee had no idea what day it was or how long they had been left alone. If Whumper wanted to kill them, they would have certainly done it in a showier, more personal way than just neglecting them, right?

Whumpee heard their stomach rumble for the umpteenth time and wished they had anything at all to eat. If Whumper would even care to come in, even if just for taunting and insults, Whumpee would sincerely beg for a glass of water and a meal. Hell, they would do anything Whumper wanted forever if it meant not having to go through this ever again.

Whumpee spent their waking hours imaging being Whumper's servant, pet, or plaything and getting adequate nutrition and care for it. The daydreams weren't always pleasant, but oh, Whumpee would give everything to be with Whumper forever if it meant they would be taken care of.

Whumper's corpse was rotting. The ants and the bugs had started to come in and pick at it, and it smelled putrid. Whumper had no close contacts, which meant no reports of a missing person. Before their death, Whumper had "taken care" of Whumpee's close contacts. No one was going to miss them.

...

Whumpee wondered when they were going to die. They didn't believe in an afterlife, but if they turned out to be wrong they hoped they wouldn't find Whumper there.

Whumpee tried to reflect on their life, but their excruciating physical condition took up most of their attention, making it hard to think. They hoped they lived a good life, even if that just meant making one person happy. They believed they did, and that was enough for them. Suddenly, death didn't seem so scary anymore.

At one point, Whumpee closed their eyes never to open them again. Their heart stopped beating, their mind stopped racing. A twisted definition of peace.

Whumpee joined Whumper in the dark abyss of death: a grave-less, lonely, terrible end.

[a-reader-and-a-writer]

Miles Miller GIFs (Part 14)

Spoiler GIFs Below Cut

Masterlist for Whole Movie

TW: Gore, Blood, Tied Up, Gagged, Gun

[serickswrites]

Lump in my Throat

Warnings: collar, gag, pet whump

"Aren't you just lovely?" The Master said as they circled the Pet, fingers ghosting along the thick leather collar at the Pet's throat.

The Pet swallowed. It was all they could do with the ball gag in their mouth. The Master had shoved that into their mouth when they talked back earlier this morning.

"Things could be this nice if you would let them, my Pet," the Master said as they wrapped their arms around the Pet and inhaled. "You could be so well cared for, my Pet. Better than most. You just have to let me."

The Pet would rather die than let the Master care for them. But they didn't have a choice. All they could do is sit there while the Master cooed and touched them.

[whump-softie]

Whumpee that has to take medication.

Whumper forcing the pills down their throat and then closing their mouth and rubbing their jaw to get them to swallow … like you would an animal.

Whumpee doesn’t like how the meds make them feel, but it makes Whumper happy, and that is ultimately the goal.

Do they actually have to take these meds? Or are they just drugs Whumper makes them take to make them sluggish, tired, agreeable?

Whumpee in withdrawals, gagging and sweating, shivering even while burning up. Whumper can either leave them be, they’ll be fine… or they can nurse them back to health…

Whumper is actively allowing Whumpee to hide the pills under their tongue, spitting them out later in secret. Whatever they want to do is fine, but Whumper can’t wait to see the side-affects.

[nachomori-3]

But can you out-Pizza the Tower

[Click for quality, closeups under cut]

[marsdeathdefiances]

Achilles: I just wish that you’d admit that you made a mistake.

Patroclus: *stubbornly* Well, maybe I like my coffee with salt. You don’t know that.

Achilles: Pat, I can make you a new cup.

Patroclus: *taking a sip and promptly gagging* it’s fine the way it is.