#grave torture

[amazingmrcinema007]

My October watches part 3. Martin was a big surprise. I really loved that one. I really wanted to like The Slime People but it was pretty dull outside of the neat monsters. I had to cap off Halloween with at least one of the Halloween movies and it was a Halloween II kind of night I was feeling.

Murders in the Rue Morgue (1932): ★★★/5

Talk to Me (2022): ★★★.5/5

The Return of the Vampire (1943): ★★★.5/5

The Slime People (1963): ★/5

Martin (1977): ★★★★★/5

In a Violent Nature (2024): ★★★.5/5

Dressed to Kill (1980): ★★★.5/5

Cemetery of Terror (1985): ★★★.5/5

Grave Torture (2024): ★★★.5/5

The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms (1953): ★★★.5/5

Halloween II (1981): ★★★.5/5

[horrorvillaintourney]

HORROR VILLAIN TOURNEY 2024, ROUND ONE MATCH TWENTY-SEVEN: The Lady (Strange Darling) vs. Sita (Grave Torture)

[1day1movie]

Siksa Kubur (Grave Torture) (2024) Joko Anwar.

[moviereviews101web]

Grave Torture (2024) Movie Review

Grave Torture – Movie Review Director: Joko Anwar Writer: Joko Anwar (Screenplay) Cast Faradina Mufti (Impetigore) Reza Rahadian Widuri Puteri Muzakki Ramdhan (Gundala) Christine Hakim (The Last of Us) Plot: Telling about the punishment of the grave which occurred after a man was buried. Runtime: 1 Hour 57 Minutes  There may be spoilers in the rest of the review Story: Grave Torture…

[soullessjack]

your idea of domestic tfw2.0 is a gated community gay couple with an estranged/absent uncle. my idea of domestic tfw2.0 is sam banning violent video games in the bunker because jack keeps trying to do MK fatalities on monsters when they go hunting and dean won’t stop doing the narrator voice to encourage it. We are not the same

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Cruel and Unusual Punishments (the PSA episode).

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[gothghostiie]

pussy torture with one of the boys??

cw: pussy torture (slapping, light punches, squeezing, biting), ambiguous partner, afab!gn!reader

he's tying you down, ankles tied to the headboard of the bed behind you, fully exposing your wet, precious folds to the cool air. sitting in front of you, thick fingers mindlessly tracing every curve, every nook and crevice of your chubby pussy before suddenly coming down on it harshly:(( you yelp, the slap sounding through the otherwise quiet room, followed by a low chuckle from him. he does it a few times, hand growing heavier as your lips heat and swell, your chest rising and falling quicker. another harsh slap, but this time his hand stays on your cunt - just to dig his fingers in and squeeze, grip slowly growing tighter. he release when he draws a whine from your throat, just to immediately squeeze again, much, much harder.

you can barely move in your binds, barely able to squirm, let alone escape from his cruel hands. he doesn't go as hard as he can - he doesn't fully wanna destroy your poor cunt. not just yet anyway. when he lets up you finally breathe in again, already trembling, you want nothing more than for him to finally play with your clit or your hole at least; but those dreams are quickly destroyed when he rubs his knuckles over your sticky outer lips. you watch intently, pressure increasing, the bumps giving you a weird sense of pleasure - until he lifts his fist and brings it down. its more of a firm tap really, but the surprise makes you gasp nonetheless. he chuckles again, shaking his head and raining down a few more light blows, trying to see how hard he can go - testing the waters for another time, he says.

you're wincing and squirming, begging for him to finally touch you properly, to give you anything, he smiles. "poor thing, so impatient, aren't you?" he grins, dipping his head. your eyes light up, relief washing over you at the mere thought of his tongue running over your swollen clit - all the hope just vanishes when you suddenly feel teeth on your sensitive cunt. he nibbles, placing love bites all over your cunt, some more gentle, others leaving teeth marks. you writhe and whine, tears pricking at your eyes, the sight makes his hard cock twitch in his pants.

he straightens up, putting both his hands on your sex, thumbs spreading your sticky lips apart to reveal your aching clit and drooling hole, you swear can see his cock harden just a bit more. you think youll finally get the release you want, getting fucked stupid on his cock; little do you know what you're in for now.

[kentjohnson91]

i’m back with memes again

[swiftmitsu]

Erm my excuse is. Erm. Emotions :3 *i emote my way outta here

Nothing against u grizzly barbecue<3 all on me

SUNNYYYYY

WHYYYYY

I CANT ESCAPE IT.

THEYRE BOTH STUPID.

THEYRE BOTH IDIOTS.

I LOVE THEM.

[greenliar]

TW: BLOOD

I can feel

The discomfort in your seat

And in your head it's worse

[horrorvillaintourney]

now why is sita the villain of grave torture what did i miss

ok so the reason why is THEE most embarrassing thing I have done after running these polls for a year and a half���. It usually takes me weeks to drum up submissions from you guys and I didn’t have that time so I just went off Wikipedia plot summaries. I am so sorry I guess sita sounded like a villain based on the summary, I haven’t seen grave torture yet but I will. I’m sure she’s a lovely woman.

[coriphallus]

Dark Urge 🤝 Astarion

Giving each other the comfort they wish they received in their time of need

[varpusvaras]

Dick: What happened to you? You used to be so cute :(

Jason: Puberty

[auspicioustidings]

Soap isn't proud that his first reaction is bitter jealousy aimed towards some poor omega he doesn't know before his brain catches up and it switches to abject horror.

Philip Graves has a bite mark on him. It's small, he'd guess some little female maybe. Soap doesn't have any claiming marks, practically nobody in their line of business does. It's not right, not when an omega can feel everything their pack goes through, not when intense pain transfers. Even him, an omega but one prepared for pain and death, has never dared suggest any claiming bites to his team. They would say no anyway no matter how much they loved him or wanted him. It's a cruel fate being an omega tied to soldiers.

They've been torturing him for information for hours.

"Whit the fuck did ye dae Phil?"

"Couldn't help myself after she tried to run. She should have known a predators instincts are to hunt."

[holnnetd]

Kidnapped!Graves

I'm sorry but I like my husband less authoritative then me. Also I would gnaw on him.

(not proof read, sorry. I will get to it.)

It's not the amount of blood that gets to him. It's not the fact it's his blood he's spewing out of his mouth on the dirty ground. It's not the pain drowning his operative system at every hit.

Nooooo, no, no. It's the frustration spreading on your face as he refuses to say a word. It gets him going. That's what makes him even respond verbally. Look your way.

"You have a weak hand." He says, blood dried beneath his nose. Slightly wetter now that he tried to lick his upper lip clean thanks to the human urge to get rid of something on your face when you get reminded of it.

"I'm taking pity on you." You retort. Both of you knowing it's not the truth.

Neither is the fact you throw a weak punch. It was enough to break his nose. It can't be that weak. Yet, it might have always just been your imagination. He probably did feel someone hit him harder. He's been around.

"Am I pretty enough to take pity on me?" He clicks his tongue, looking up at you with a half sarcastic smirk and mock puppy eyes. He's bleeding from a lot of holes on his body. Predominantly his mouth.

His eyes are bloodshot, ears ringing, hands burned from rope and throat sore and ablaze from the lack of hydration.

It's been 3 days. The Shadows are out to find him soon and you don't know how to get any information out of him.

"I take the silence as a yes."

"How are you still so willing to talk bullshit?"

"Can't order me around, sweets. I'm not made of that."

How did he survive so long in his career is beyond everyone. Big mouth, big ego, pretty face, stubborn attitude. There are so many out for his neck and he prances around with a red ribbon around it, showing it off to everyone, daring.

He's untouchable.

Now more then ever. And he can't even move from the damned chair. He wouldn't be able to even if he was untied. Not enough nourishment to keep him going. Pure adrenaline that's fueling him.

"Stop fucking around Graves. I'm sick of you." You groan, grabbing his hair, staring at the bleeding hairline before meeting the bloodshot eyes. Still so fucking pretty through the blood...

"Hm..." he smiles lazily.

Whoosh..

And that's one straight to the face again. His poor poor nose.

First comes out a guttural scream, groans, pants, a lot of cursing and even more tensing and shifting.

His chest heaves as he thrashes again, trying to ground himself through the pain.

"Talk."

And through a lot of drool dripping down the side of his lips he grins, teeth barring as he laughs through the pain.

"Cheap hit." He finally pants, finding this amusing. Hitting a broken nose is a low blow.

"I should give you expensive hits then, huh? Suits more your CEO title." You scowl back at him with annoyance, this time moving to grab your holstered knife.

He doesn't seem to look too scared of it, adrenaline pumping through his veins as the pain throbbing through his nose doesn't seem to stop.

"What are you gonna do with that oversized thing?"

"Compensating for my micro-dick." You sneer, pushing the sharp edge to his cheekbones, knowing the fatty tissue is the least there. It's just brings out more delicious pain.

"Don't worry, the 'oversized' toy isn't anything you couldn't handle. You took bigger things to you."

[bmtillerbabe]

Ooo, would you be interested in writing some super whumpy Ghoap where one of them is captured (maybe by Graves?) and the other one is forced to watch in person or sees over a live feed until they can break them out?

Oooooooo yes!! This sounds fun! 😍

Hope you enjoy, dear 😘

✨

CW : People getting beat up, some torture, blood, hitting, kicking, Angst, Ghost is gonna have Hella revenge..... 🫢

Take care of your mental health! I tried to keep it descriptive, yet vague - because torture is one of my triggers and I typically get so pissed at the character inflicting it!

But rest assured - Ghost is gonna kick this mother fucker's ASS off! ❤️

---------------------------

Ghost rattled the chains that bound his fists behind his back, thrashing against the metal that locked him in place.

He growled loudly, pulling his arms with every bit of strength he could muster - screaming, yelling, crying out as he tried to break free, but to no use.

His jeans were filthy and his knees ached, strained from the Heft of his weight being on them for so many hours; mud and shit and sludge caked into his denim and the patches of skin that poked through the holes torn from the concrete beneath him.

Distant sounds of creaking and groaning gave him no clues as to where he was currently being held, and the room itself was dome-shaped and dark with no windows and no views of the outside world.

If he even was outside.

It was dark, dirty, damp and disgusting - meant to isolate and incite panic.

Meant to.

Ghost cussed himself with a grunt, trying to concentrate on getting at least one of his wrists free, (debating on how stupid is would be for him to break his wrist or a couple fingers to slip free....), instead of counting each steady drip-drip-drip of the leak overhead.

He should have known better than to hesitate when he and Soap got to the Exfil location, and nothing was there. He'd sensed something was wrong in his gut right then, but ignored it; choosing to be ever the obedient solder instead of following his gut.

And now he was paying the price for it.

He'd been in situations like this before, sure. He'd been trained on how to remain calm, and trained in hundreds of ways to break free of traps and bonds. He'd been trained to keep his mind cool, and his breathing in check.

He'd been trained not to fear for his life.

..... But it wasn't his own life he feared for, now.

It was Johnny's.

And he hadn't been trained for that.

Ghost yelled in anguish, pain evident in his voice, eyed locked onto the staticky, cracked screen on the curved wall above of him.

And Johnny - his Johnny - was on it.

And it was his fault.

"Soap!" Ghost screamed at the top of his lungs, wondering, hoping that maybe, just maybe, their rooms were close enough for the to hear the other. "Johnny!"

But the Scot didn't move, his eyes darting around, taking in his surroundings and struggling against his bonds much like his Lieutenant.

Ghost was left helpless, angled in such a way that he was forced to watch Soap breath heavily and anger flash over his features.

He could see the fire in his Sargeant's eyes, could see his mind racing with plans of his escape, and taking in anything he could about his surroundings.

Any other day, Ghost would have beamed with pride at seeing just how far the Scot had come in the short time he'd been enlisted.

But today was not the day.

Ghost was just about to make the decision that a broken wrist could heal eventually - when the flourescant green light of the room, and the TV screen, suddenly shut down.

He froze his movements, going still and quiet in the shadows.

Drip..... Drip..... Drip....

A power play, no doubt, he knew. Just reminding him who was really in charge, and that it wasn't him.

Several seconds later, only the TV flicked back on, fuzzy feedback whistling and crackling through the empty space. Ghost's eyes were locked to the screen, and he felt his face flush with rage when he saw another face appear as it adjusted the angle of the camera and came into focus.

"Well, lookie here."

Ghost would recognize that nasty, southern drawl anywhere.

"Seems I've managed to catch both the Ghost and his little guard dog."

Graves.

Ghost released a heavy, throaty growl at the mere sight of the blonde traitor who flashed a crooked grin at the screen, yanking against his chains like a rabid beast ready to maul him to shreds. He wasnt sure if the American could hear him, so he didn't speak.

But it didn't take long for Grave's twisted lilt to fill the space.

The man loved to hear himself talk.

"Now. I bet you're wonderin' why I got you both tied up an' bound like this." Graves proclaimed, almost proudly, sauntering over towards Soap. The Scot eyed him with pure disdain, his face twisted in a putrid scowl as the man neared.

Ghost watched through the screen as Graves went over and gripped Soap's chin, tilting it side to side, up and down, like he was inspecting goods.

"Well, see..... We caught you snoopin' round where you shouldn't be." Graves smirked as he leaned near Soap's face with a devilish grin, knowing damn well that Johnny could do absolutely nothing with his hands chained to the ground behind his back.

He could spit though.

Making a sound as he did so, Johnny reared back and spit a huge glob into Grave's eye, glaring at him. Graves reared back in shock, but once he processed what happened, his brow furrowed and he reached down to give Johnny a good slap across the cheek - hard enough that spit flew from his mouth.

Ghost yelled as he watched the impact from his side of the screen, his eyes wide and pained, trying again to break free of these damned chains---!

"Is that all ye got, ye pussy?" Johnny managed to chuckle darkly, shaking his head and spitting out a good bit of blood. He stared Graves down without an ounce of fear. "I've had new recruits hit harder than tha'."

Graves shook his head, but returned the smile to the Scot before facing the camera - facing Ghost.

"See the disrespect in this one?" he shook his head. "Should've kept this dog on a tighter leash, there, Ghost."

Ghost couldn't help but bite out an angry yell at the screen, though he knew it was probably useless. "Graves, I'll fucking kill you!"

Johnny kept his eyes trained on Graves as the man circled him, his breathing heavy and lip oozing a tiny trickle of blood. The American stopped and stooped down to Soap's eye level and clicked his tongue.

"Now, lookie here, Soap, the way I see it, we got two options."

Soap didn't respond.

Graves continued.

"We can either do this the easy way, and you tell me just where that laptop yall stole from that K-27 base is...... Or I can just rip the answer right from your throat. Quite literally."

Ghost was breathing heavily, watching the crappy screen helplessly, knowing exactly what Soap was about to say. His heart ached and time seemed to stop around him. He watched Johnny lean in to Graves and utter,

"Go ta hell."

Graves let out a barking laugh, licking his lips as he stood up full height.

The without warning, reared his leg back and kicked Soap right in the gut with what looked like his full strength.

Ghost screamed in the dark silence, willing the chains to break free so he could get out and punch that fucker face through the back of his skull - might even wear it over his balaclava after - eyes locked onto the screen, unable to do much else but watch.

Graves walked behind Soap as he was catching his breath, gripping his mohawk and ripping it back to Soap was now looking directly at the screen.

"See, we thought you might choose the hard way." Graves drawled with a grin, patting him on the cheek several times. "And that's why we're making your buddy there, watch...... And why I'm gonna have a lot of fun with this."

Soap didn't even have time to prepare or react before Graves was in front of him and punching his jaw, landing blow after blow on the bound man.

Ghost had done his fair share of torture. Hell, he was typically the one that most people feared based on reputation alone. He himself could withstand any amount of pain inflicted upon his body, or mind. Had the years-honed ability to dissociate, even welcome the pain.

But never had he been subject to a torture like this - - being forced to watch his Sargeant, his best friend - his lover - take the wounds that should be going to him instead.

It was his job to make sure this didn't happen, it was his job to make sure that his team and his men got home safe and alive. And yet, here we was, yelling angrily at the expanse as he was forced to watch Graves pummel into Johnny.

It pulled his heartstrings when Soap, already beaten bloody, spit out what looked like a tooth, and eyed the man before him.

"All this time, and ye still fight like a bloody girl."

Graves seemed to have had enough and landed another series of blows across his face and chest. Gripping Soap's cheeks, he forced him to face the screen again.

"You about ready to talk yet?" He drawled with a pant.

Ghost knew he wasn't talking to Soap.

Graves was talking to him.

When no answer came through, Graves just shook his head and sighed, turning back to Johnny.

"Sounds like your friend there don't much mind if you die in here."

Soap glared at him through a swelling eye already turning purple, thrashing against his chains. Graves merely chuckled and looked into the camera again.

"You just let us know if you decide his life is worth that laptop of yours."

Soap coughed up blood when Graves kicked him again, no doubt having broken a rib.

"N-no! Ghost! Simon! Don't listen to him! I can take it, I can---!" He ended with a kick to the gut before Graves walked over to a shadow in the background and soft clinking sounded through the fuzzy speakers. He pushed over a small cart full of different knives and..... Tools..... Lifting each on in the air to inspect them.

Ghost couldn't remember the last time he cried.

Hell he couldn't even remember the last time he even felt sadness.

But this sight damn near broke him in two - a single tear slipping through his long, blonde lashes, obsorbing into the balaclava.

The cries and screams of pain from his friend - his Johnny - kept his eyes glued to the screen, forcing himself to watch; taking a mental note of each and every injury Graves inflicted onto Soap :

Because not only was he going to get himself and Johnny of here alive - he planned to inflict every wound back to that fucker tenfold

.

.

. Hope yall enjoyed, reblogs and comments and hearts are SO appreciated - always! ❤️