#new punching bag

[glittergummy]

[artschoolglasses]

Americans not giving a shit about the wildfires burning down forests and homes in Canada until smoke starts spreading across the border. Meanwhile Indigenous communities across the country are far more likely to be impacted by the fires and I’ve seen all of one link to a charity and about nine million memes. 🙃

[pieruru]

fuckass creature

[whumpzone]

Linden & Colton - 29

(masterlist)

CW: pet whump, dehumanisation, vague allusions to past noncon, self hatred

-

Colton woke. His palm was sweaty and hot. A headache was slowly draining from his skull. There was no morning light, and no… bedroom. Instead, there was the dark living room. He felt as if he had slept for years. 

Shifting slightly, he realised two things: he was sweaty all over, his palm particularly so because his Master was holding it loosely. 

Col’s eyes followed Master’s arm up from his hand, and he saw that he was unmoving, breathing evenly with his eyes closed. 

Safe for now, he lay back down. He was absolutely exhausted, although he had no right to be. All he’d done was cry and slept- slept- on the furniture. 

He gasped, then pressed the knuckles of his free hand to his mouth to shut himself up. He felt so dizzy and disoriented. What time was it? Why was it dark? What on earth had he been thinking, getting up on Master’s sofa like some stray?

He suddenly realised he was squeezing Master’s hand, and Master, in his dream-state, was squeezing back. It shouldn’t have, but it made Col calm down. 

He had made an absolute spectacle of himself. Crying, howling, begging Master not to leave him. 

And Master had kept his promise. He was still here. Col felt a surge of gratitude, different to how it usually felt. The familiar gratitude that ran through him when he was allowed food, or sleep, was utterly eclipsed by this. Master had no need to stay. Col knew that his old Master would have kicked him in the stomach until he shut up, or just gagged him and locked the basement door.

Here, Col had been held, comforted, and now Master was still with him, like he was protecting him from something. 

His old Master’s friends. He winced as he remembered exactly what had set him off in the first place. No, no. I don’t want to remember. 

It was just what bad dogs got, but Master had seemed so genuinely disgusted- with Col? Disgusted that his pet was even more used up than he’d thought?

His mind whirred until he felt his brain would overheat. Master was horrified about what happened, part of him said, the part that was softer and further away, that was so naive it made Col cringe. He pictured himself - his most pure, real self, his sanity - curled up in his mind, shielding his face with his arms, his legs pulled up to protect his stomach. Things didn’t hurt as badly as they could when he was like that. If he started to believe all of the kind words that Master said, and the thoughts he sometimes had in his weaker moments, it would be like letting his inner self relax, just a bit. Taking away some of the tension in his legs, maybe even lowering his arms to look out at the world. Once he did that, it would hurt so much more the next time. Col wouldn’t let that happen. 

He frowned deeply and tried to regain some composure. Master had fallen asleep out of tiredness, not because he had granted Col’s plea to not be left. It was Col who had engineered this, who’d taken advantage of his Master’s kindness and spent the entire night curled up beside him, holding his hand like a loved one when he was, in fact, nothing. Master would wake and be so sickened that he would finally kick Col out. 

And Col was weak. He was cowardly and scared. He just couldn’t handle it, not yet. Not yet, he repeated. Soon he’d come up with a plan. He’d figure out what his next steps would be once Master made him leave. 

He once again became aware of the feeling of his hand in his owner’s. Master’s grip was light with sleep, purposeful enough to be holding him, but not pressing into his injuries or pulling or hurting. That could, would, change when Master woke up. How could he ever think he was safe? How deluded and complacent had he become? 

You’re not a lap dog, he reminded himself, although it was his old owner’s voice he heard. You’ll never be one. You’ll never be loved, or treasured. Do you understand that, Pet?

Yes, Master, Col had replied when he was first told this. The words hadn’t stung. It was important that he knew. 

Good boy. You know your place. 

His training was starting to stumble, now that he was in Master’s house. He so wanted to believe all of Master’s kind words, to slip into them like a quilt and bury himself in their warm folds, sinking deeper, deeper, believing that he hadn’t deserved what happened at those parties. 

You hadn’t, the other voice said again, and Col screwed his eyes up, because it hurt to have to fight it off. But what choice did he have? 

Slowly, hardly daring to breathe, Col slid his hand free of his Master’s. The only sound was his own heart, pounding at the sudden tension. How could he have woken up and ever felt calm about this? Why had he lay there, thinking, deciding what to do next as if he ever had a choice? His own hatred for himself was growing in density. He hated the darkness, and the silence. He had endured enough of both to last him forever. Things were so much more simple when it was daytime, when the sunlight spread over the house like a balm, and his Master was happy and calm and talking to him.

God, but it was night and he was alone in the truest sense of the word, and he just couldn’t stop fucking thinking.

He unfolded his stiff legs (they used to always be stiff, from kneeling or being bound for hours on end, but now Master let him walk and stretch them, and he was taking that for granted too) and carefully lowered his hands and knees to the floor, praying that nothing would creak. Nothing did. He tried to breathe at a normal pace again. 

His eyes had adjusted to the pitch blackness by now. There was a dip in the sofa where Col had been lying, but there was nothing he could do about that. Besides, he wasn’t trying to conceal what he’d done. He was just trying to mitigate it, because he was a good boy. 

A dog, he corrected himself. A slave. God, why did you do that? You know how ugly you are when you cry. You’ve seen yourself in the mirror, it’s horrifying, it’s like a monster. You looked like that for a good half an hour last night, and Master saw, he saw everything and he’ll never forget. 

And your body looks so bad. He’ll have looked away from your face and seen your body instead. Oh my god, why would you put him through that? 

You swore you’d keep it together in this new house, you’d be good and make it work, but you fuck everything up. Everything you touch gets ruined sooner or later. How can you even go upstairs to the room he lets you stay in? 

Col stared at the floor. If Master had a basement, he’d go there. But then again, if Master had a basement he would never have needed to give up his spare room. Col could prove that he shouldn’t have gone to the trouble. 

There was a neat little space in the corner of the living room, between the wooden TV stand and the wall, where Col would fit nicely. He crawled over and nudged himself into place. There he knelt, watching as Master slept. He would probably be angry that he’d spent all night on the sofa, but Col didn’t dare wake him up. 

He hoped he looked like a good slave, on his knees and ready to serve. It must have been the dead of night, because he didn’t make it to morning. He fell into sleep with his head resting against the wall, and although kneeling was second nature, it wasn’t the position he would have chosen if he had let himself have that freedom. He would have chosen to curl up on the floor, with his legs to his chest, and his arms around his face.

-

taglist part 1:

@newbornwhumperfly @whumpadump1939 @firewheeesky @whump-me-all-night-long @captain-seconds @grizzlie70 @unicornscotty @lave-whump @princessofonwardsworld @cupcakes-and-pain @bumbumbea @whumpfigure @yet-another-heathen @secretwhumplair @whumps-up @as-a-matter-of-whump @getyourwhumphere @itzagoodthing @whumpymirages @soapparentlyilikewhumpnow @the-monarch-whumperfly @penny-for-your-whump @legallylibra @angel-stars @loyds-of-registry @tears-and-lilies @badluck990 @rosesareviolentlyread @vickytokio @neuro-whump @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @whumpsy-daisies @control-whump @theydy-cringeworthy @starnight-whump @cursedandtired @jo-doe-seeking-inspo @justabitofwhump @glamrockgregory @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @genesissane @justbreakonme @addyez @httyd-chocolate @littlespacecastle @haro-whumps @extrabitterbrain @neverthelass @downrivergirl914

[macabrecravings]

I’m still a Korn Listener if y’all were wondering. Here’s a thing I just drew in an hour (12am-1am) while listening to Dirty on repeat 🫡🦅 Sorry Ren!

[ndostairlyrium]

"Is butter a carb?" energy

[g004]

[clowningaroundmars]

i still cannot get over The Twins like.

imagine.

you have another version of you out there arguably living a life just as difficult as yours, if not more, that you can talk to at literally Any Time! and they're You so you basically already have half a convo down anytime you decide to pop on over via a portal

1610 and 42 stepping out of their respective portals side-by-side just to stroll out of an alleyway like nothin happened just going:

1610: LOUD SIGH

42: rough day too huh?

1610, brushing debris off of his shoulder: yeeep. another run-in with the rhino. again.

42: you didn't lock his dumb ass up like, last month? how'd he get out?

1610: don't know, don't care. so done with this week, i just wanna... i dunno. hibernate til spring 😮‍💨

42: man, what a mood.

1610: what happened to you? you look like you had a rougher day than me!

42, covered in visible bruises and cuts along with his bandages: mannnn... rougher week more like. well... rougher life. but. anyways.

they both nod at each other in Understanding

[mara-xx217]

I LOVE Ending H so much. Can request my husband Pav being the one nonconed by a contestant reader? It's so rare to see the reader being the aggressor.

Okay so I was throwing around different ideas and I could technically write two different versions of this, both with a gender neutral reader! I've decided on this version, so if you or anyone else would like to see the other just send an ask and I'll gladly write it 😉

(I'm sorry, it's just like the Woodsman's little... 'situation', so you know it's gonna be freaky lol)

Warnings: Noncon, Genital... Mutilation? (Sort of), Parasitic Infection, Graphic Description, Pav is Gods' Bravest Little Soldier, Yandereish, Vomit, Blood and Violence, Necrophilia...ish

Moonscorched, or were you something else now?

You were too close to comfort. Sure, maybe a few hours ago, Pav wouldn't have minded the close proximity... When you weren't changed in such a hideous manner. Something had gotten a hold of you and tore your clothing to ribbons. As much as Pav would have killed for such a view before, now his entire body was tensing, and his arm was already snapping towards the holster at his hip.

"S-Shit-!" His eyes snapped open as you grabbed his wrist, twice as fast as he was to the draw and leagues stronger than he could have ever hoped to be.

"H-Hey... W-Wa-aiiiit...~"

CRUNCH!

Pav's eyes nearly bulge from their sockets as his wrist is snapped 180 degrees in the opposite direction. His diaphragm cramps, forcing a yelp of pain and shock from between his clenched teeth. So fast... So strong-! He can't even grab his knife with his other hand before you are on top of him, body quivering and convulsion expectantly as you leer at him with glossy eyes and a watering mouth.

There wasn't just something wrong with you. It was on you, inside of you. He caught a glimpse of it in between your legs when he had nearly ran face first into you in the alleyways of Prehevil. Thin, spider-like appendages dug into your pubic region, attacked to whatever Rher-born parasite that had attached itself to your genitals. Pav wasn't able to get a clear look at it, but he could smell it and Gods...

He'll vomit-!

"Saw h-ho-ow you were l-looking at meeeee....~" Your voice was listless, flat and without inflection or variance in your tone. Your skin was pallid, fingers stiff and cold as you gripped his broken wrist and pawed at his face, as though fascinated by his features. You might as well be a walking corpse, enslaved to whatever was in between your legs.

And judging by how insistently you were grinding against him...

"F-Fuck-! FUCK-!"

Pav punched you in the side once, then twice, then repeatedly as he tried to elicit any sort of response from you. Pain, a simple flinch, something- Fucking ANYTHING-! ...but you remain steadfast, as though totally ignorant to the fact that he had surely lacerated your liver with the amount of times he had knocked it against your ribcage. He hit you square in the chest. Nothing. He punched you in the throat. Nothing. When you released his jaw and started to pull at his trousers, Pav felt, for the first time since arriving in this shithole, something akin to primal fear.

"W-Whu- Why struggle? I jus- j-just wanna make y-you feel g-go- gooood, sweetheart...~"

Throwing his own words back at him... Pav couldn't help but to laugh. What a shitty fucking joke... Instead of killing the Kaiser and fucking some cute stranger in the middle of assfuck nowhere, he was going to be raped by some monster wearing your face.

Heh... Haha...

"HAHAHAHAHA!!! OH- FUCK YOU!"

THWUMP!

CRACK!

CRUNCH!!!

You didn't react to a single one of his hits. Fear and revulsion had Pav's heart slamming against his chest and his throat tightening until he couldn't breathe. You had managed to tear open his trousers, pulling free his semi-hard cock and clasping it in your death-cold grasp.

"S-SHIT-! FUCK-!"

He almost had it. Pav had fingered his holster with his good hand, but the gun was flung out of reach as you suddenly yanked both of his arms above his head with a single hand. His heart sank into the depths of the abyss as he watched it skid against the paved street. It's right there! RIGHT FUCKING THERE-!!!

He just needs to-!

"FUCK-! Just stop! FUCKING STOP-!" His body was reacting beyond his control, hardening in spite of the fact that he did not fucking want this.

Huh, so this is what it's like, huh?

Just a grim fucking comedy... My shitty fucking life... Pav had no room but he still tried to jerk his hips away as something sticky and hot rubbed against his shaft. Whatever was attached to you, it was warm. Alive, unlike the husk that it was attached to. It was almost soft, but not in the pleasant way that a wanting vagina or a well prepared anus were. It was... foul, like rubbing a finger against the split skin of rotting fruit. A mass of pulsating meat, mocking a set of pursed lips that were attempting to persuade him to allow them to envelope his more desired part.

No. Fuck that!

No. No, no- No! No-!

"NONONONONONONONOFUCKINGSTOPWHATTHEFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKNO-!!!"

SQUELCH!!!

Pav retches the moment he is enveloped by the creature attached to your genitals. Bile hits the roof of his mouth and he nearly inhales it as he chokes. It burns his sinuses and causes his eyes to water, another involuntary flex of his diaphragm and his throat causing another wave to come spewing from his mouth as you start to bounce on his wilting cock.

Every attempt Pav made to pull away from you was met with you increasing your pace and the force behind your hips. He can't move-! Why can't he move?! He was a fucking soldier, Gods damn it! He was a man! He was s-strong! He always took whatever he wanted and he made the hard choices because no one else would! So why?!

Why was he fucking helpless?!

You were so fucking hot and wet... But it was revolting, like he was forced to stick his dick into... fuck. Pav gags repeatedly as he kicks his legs out. It was like you were glued to his body, an unmovable object he had no hope of escaping out from under. You panted and tried to moan, but it didn't sound right. It was forced, merely a performance but a shitty one at that. Pav gritted his teeth so hard that he heard them shift in his head and tasted blood amidst the bittersweet bile that filled his mouth.

"You were r-right... You do h-have a big c-cock...~" You croaked above him. Whatever his dick was in, it was pulsating around him, almost moving in rhythm to your bounces. Pav's once softening cock was hardening once again, and as much as he fucking hated it-

"G-GURRK-!!!"

He screwed his eyes shut as it started to feel good. No, not good. It was just forcing that reaction out of him. His body was chasing the sensation, bucking into the parasite in between your legs even though he wanted nothing more than to throw you off of him and run the fuck away as quickly as he could. Pav felt hands all over his body. On his partially exposed chest, on his face, in his hair... Pain shot up his arm and settled in his tightening core as his fingers twitched. His good hand was grabbed and was carelessly slapped onto your mostly bare chest, a silent invitation for him to touch you and reciprocate.

Fuck...

...

Fuck it-

Pav forced himself to breath through his nose as he grabbed at your chest. He found one of your nipples, totally soft and ice cold to the touch, and clumsily pinched it in between his fingers. You gurgle deep within your throat and if he kept his eyes shut and tried really, really fucking hard, Pav could almost imagine he wasn't being raped by a corpse-possessed parasite.

His cock twitched inside of you- Inside of it. He forced his hips to roll skywards, suppressing the need to gag as it feels like he punctures one of the walls his cock was rubbing against. It felt like there was no end in this thing, no ceiling, like it merely led inside of your bodily cavity instead of whatever innermost area of the creature attached to you.

Don't think about it. Don't fucking think about it...

Pav grabbed your hip and tried to deepen his thrusts. Just get it over with... his other arm laid limply at his side, partly outstretched and utterly useless. any sort of movement was agony, but the pain was better to focus on than the building pressure in his cock and lower gut.

He did want to fuck you, ever since he first laid eyes on you. Would you have let him, or would he have to take it by force? Both options were attractive to him. he would have liked it if you dropped to your knees and begged for his cock, but pinning you down and fucking the resistance out of you was equal in Pav's mind...

"F-Fuck-! URP-! Godsdamnit-!"

"BANG!!!"

The moment he pulled the trigger, he exploded, both out of relief that he nailed you in between the eyes and because in spite of how utterly disgusting this was, a cock would cum even if it was fucking a lukewarm pile of rotting meat. Pav started to laugh again. He got you... He fucking got you! HA-!

His arm was useless, but he could still move it, and pain wasn't going to stop Pav from surviving. Pulling the gun close was easy. Keeping you distracted was much more difficult. He couldn't believe it was that fucking easy. Should have just gave in and given you what you wanted. Your body was heavy on his lap and Pav huffed and shuddered as he cummed, holding your body up with his good arm and pushing you to the side before you collapsed on top of him. Fuck... Fuck this. And fuck you, too-

"-?!"

The parasite tightens around his softening cock and your hips suddenly begin to grind against his lap once again. A rush of fluids leak out from in between your legs, soaking through his uniform until it was covering his bare skin. Pav gasped and tried to pull his arm away, screaming in agony as his arm is snapped at the elbow.

Your head is heavy, whipping side to side as you struggle to sit upright. A bullet hole leaks dark blood from your forehead, a gentle trickle in comparison to what's happening between your thighs. Pav's voice hits a pitch it never has before, not even when he saw the aftermath of destruction at his village in the wake of the Kaiser's passing through, as you start to fuck him with vigor once again.

"Give it t-to me... Like how y-you p-promised... Over a-and over and o-over and over a-and-"

Pav isn't convinced that he woke up in the Sulfur Pits whenever that fucking train decided to stop.

@prettycutebunny, @infinitewhore, @kennbb, @cherrysodalite, @space-arsonist, @pink-soft-shadow, @sinlessdesire, @hoemine, @memoryofheather @horny-3

[quick-catton]

HAPPY ST PATRICK'S DAY INDEED. GOOD GRAVY

[wispisstillverybored67]

“We have got to get more cringe and unapologetic about our interests” Can you even handle Hellaverse fans??

[tj-crochets]

I would like to both thank and blame tumblr for the phrase "turn slow tigers into fast tigers with this one neat trick!" Like, I am grateful for it as a mnemonic that stuck that reminds me to go punch the punching bag* when I get too stressed out and can't function well from acute stress, but also I can no longer refer to it any other way because when I get that stressed I have trouble with words Which means today I was putting on my wrap gloves and my brother was looking at me like "what are you doing?" and all I could say was "turning slow tigers into fast tigers" *I think the original post was about taking a short run or tensing all your muscles and then releasing them? But my response to stress is very much not flight lol

[primordialruin]

Sorry for my venting 😞 I received a vicious ask on my art blog that insulted my take on my muse. I haven't gotten hate in many years and it has honestly really thrown me off. I didn't expect the anti fans to be like this. It affected me a lot more than I thought it would.

[just-an-inchi-dent]

devastated for yuki but so so happy for liam. life is hard rn for the lawsunoda nation

[hellaverseposting]

Should I just start keeping a collection of Hellaverse antis admitting that they only shit on Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss because they’re acceptable “cringe” targets in current fandom culture or are people still so deep in denial about it that my efforts would be meaningless.

[thursdayinspace]

already *done* with today. typical monday only five times worse 😂