#tw suffocating

[blueequin0x]

Goretober 2022 - 8] Computer Virus // Art + Speedpaint

They probably shouldn’t have opened a file named ‘Virus.mp3.exe’ …

Can you tell by the total time that I’m not used to drawing Protogens? Also this is my 3rd attempt at this prompt because I kept hating the idea I had, then completely changing the concept of the drawing lmao. I had far too much fun making the glitched bluescreen with the repeating text, it’s basic but it just feels fun to do lol

CONTENT WARNINGS: character suffocating/choking, some blood, possible animal death? [animal in question is a protogen], a murderous computer virus // please tell me if I missed any :]

First image is the version without blood, Second image is the version with blood

IMAGE UNDER BREAK

DO NOT REPOST // DO NOT REMOVE CAPTION AND CONTENT WARNINGS

total time taken: 11 hours 40 minutes + however long it took me to do the on-paper sketch

link to the speedpaint: https://youtu.be/iiqVbWx0DAU

zoomed in versions:

[infamouslydorky]

Honestly upsetting how many issues would be solved if billionaires were content with having their income capped at 999,999,999.99 and the rest of their profits went to taxes but instead we have a situation where they're almost trillionaires and people are dying in the streets because of poverty and negligence

[conspicuous-clown-car]

pushing boundaries

[hellonerf]

this was supposed to be a really late day 3 goretober asphyxiation thing but it's not really gorey at all. okay

[thetrinitytest]

[4rk4n4]

tw - descriptions of abuse

If you have never been suffocated by a person close to you, then it is hard to comprehend how terrifying it is to experience it or why it’s so difficult to overcome or why it’s so hard to forgive someone who does this to you…

The harm done to Silco by Vander’s hands is very brutal. It leaves permanent scars on Silco’s body that he has to face on a daily basis. It significantly damages Silco’s ability to trust other people and more importantly, to feel loved and cared for. That is part and parcel to the unhealthy relationship he has with Jinx, who he views as his daughter, but this isn’t about that specifically.

This is about suffocation.

The act of suffocating someone produces such a visceral response. It’s important that people understand that you cannot think or act logically when someone prevents you from breathing. You cannot think. You cannot talk. You cannot cry for help. All you can do is struggle. When that person suffocating you is a person you know and recognize, it adds a significant layer of fear and anguish to that struggle that you simply do not have the time to process because you are fighting for your life. You may also have to hurt them in order to live. In that moment, mind and body disassociate.

One of my parents almost suffocated me to death via positional asphyxiation. They knocked me down chest to the floor and put their body weight on top of me for several minutes so that my lungs could not expand. I tried to stab them with a fire poker, but I couldn’t reach my arms up. In the aftermath, I couldn’t sleep laying down for days because my lungs hurt so bad. I couldn’t talk either.

I received the shittiest apology. No one took accountability. No one understood how brutal and painful that was.

Similarly, I don’t think Vander truly understands what he did to Silco. I don’t think he understands how Silco carries that betrayal in his body. I don’t think he understands the mental and emotional toll it continues to take on Silco. Forgiveness cannot be freely given by someone who still has to suffer the consequences of being brutalized by someone close to them. Forgiveness cannot be forced by guilting and shaming the victim. Forgiveness is paid for by the perpetrator through accountability and restorative acts and that price is determined by the victim.

That’s why I can’t forgive the person who hurt me, and why Silco shouldn’t have to forgive Vander in the main timeline… or even in the alternate universe without Vander putting in the work.

[mjfass]

Now, where do we stand?

[colorfulplasma]

[PREV]

With a burning of light, a Shadow is born

[bloodmoonlich]

Chappell Roan for W Magazine (April 2025)

[thesewingmachine]

let’s think about drowning.

- whumpee being held by the hair, pulled back out and dunked in repetitively

- blood from previous injuries dribbling into the water as whumpee struggles underneath

- shivering and shaking once dragged from the murky depths

if anyone would like to add anything then please do feel welcome to share :)

[serickswrites]

Ready Set Go III

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Warnings: captivity, restraints, torture, suffocation, asphyxiation, strangulation, unconsciousness

Everything was hazy and Whumpee couldn't really focus. The room was spinning and they couldn't concentrate. They could only focus on breathing and getting a breath in. But it took everything in them just to do that.

Whumper.

Whumper was talking. Talking and talking. They should probably listen. But that would require energy and focus. And Whumpee had neither of those things.

"You're doing so great," Whumper cooed in their ear, forcing Whumpee to listen.

"Pl-Pl-Please," Whumpee gasped.

"You did so wonderfully! We're up to a minute thirty-five this time." Whumper cupped Whumpee's cheek.

Whumpee couldn't. They couldn't do this. They were so exhausted. This was all too much. This wasn't fair. "Pl-Pl-Please," they tried again. They needed rest. They needed to breathe. They needed Whumper to take away the Godforsaken bag.

"It's a record for you, Whumpee. Let's see if we can break your record! I bet you can do it! You're doing so wonderfully."

Whumpee let out a sob as Whumper pulled the bag over their head once more. They didn't care that Whumper praised them. They didn't care that they were holding their breath for longer and longer. They just wanted it all to stop.

But as their world grew dark as their lungs burned for air, Whumpee realized they weren't sure if they were as confident in their abilities as Whumper was. They could only hope that they would open their eyes again soon.

Tags: @rubyjewelqueen@goureblogs@bisexuawolfsalt@1653-archive@whump-allthe-way

@forest-theory@echo-of-umbra @ubelkkeit @royc4n @lit-list

@mypersonaldarkworld@thathurt-doitagain @orangeduckweed @devourerofcheesecake @whumpthyme

@whumperstorm @whumpobsessednarwhal @cuteangsty @whumpitisthen @pigeonwhumps

@whumpndump @st0rmm @notsobeautifuldisaester @whumperdumper @wh-wh-whumpified

@sink-the-ship @antipsichotic @writinggremlin @whumpsday @whumpyangstydestruction

@watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

[one-time-i-dreamt]

I was piloting a Lego-style spaceship with two humanoid dinosaur skeletons wearing Jurassic Park t-shirts. They didn’t have brains because they were skeletons, so naturally they were very stupid. They decided to pull the lever labelled as ‘turn the air off’ to see what happened. They forgot I was human and needed air, and before I could warn them, I suffocated to death.

[deadliterarysociety]

I am unfortunately just like other girls. I like psychological thrillers, kafka, plath's fig tree analogy, poetry, trashy music, retail sales, cannibalism as a metaphor for undying devotion, constantly fighting between never wanting to be like my mom but having deep empathy for her, rotting in the bed till my body feels nothing like my own, bleeding out silently in the dark, leaving people before they leave me, screaming in the pillow till my throat is raw.

[patheticpretending]

This song really reminded me of James for sum reason..... So I made this,,,

[fallenwhumpee]

Back Home

• Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Masterlist •

Warnings: Non-human whumper, blood, suffocation.

Leader sighed and pushed themselves up. They would never be able to relax without knowing what the sound was anyway.

Grabbing their dagger and cape, Leader slid out from the tent. They threw a few logs into the fire before litting their torch and taking a quick look around. It was quiet. Too quiet for a forest. Leader shivered again, pulling their cape more onto their shoulders.

Hesitantly, they started checking the opening. They didn't want to stray away too much. The team would worry.

Then they heard it again. The wind blew hard enough for their torch to blow out, drenching everything in darkness. Leader turned back to lit their torch again, but they couldn't see the campfire.

"You are too easy to lure out."

Leader swung their dagger quickly, spinning around. They felt flesh split with their motion, only for pain to sting on their back. They hissed and tried again. This time, there was nothing.

"Coward," Leader taunted, leaning their back to a tree. Their back hurt with the motion, but they ignored. "Face me," they forced out. They pulled their dagger to moonlight, just to see it covered with a black liquid. What the hell was that?

A low chuckle echoed through the trees, the sound threading through the wind like a whisper. Leader's grip on the dagger tightened. The black liquid dripped onto their boots, thick like oil, but the scent was wrong—sharp, metallic, and bitter.

A branch cracked behind them.

Leader twisted to strike, but this time, nothing was there. Only shadows shifting between the trees. Their pulse pounded in their ears. Whatever this was, it wasn’t human.

"You should have stayed by the fire."

The voice came from everywhere and nowhere at once. Leader’s breath misted in the cold air as they crouched lower, dagger steady. They didn't understand at all. There wasn't supposed to be anyone in the forest.

"What do you want?" Leader called, keeping voice even. They had to stay calm and get back to their team.

"To see if you’re worth breaking."

The wind howled, and the thing moved—fast. Leader barely had time to register the shape lunging toward them before they threw themselves aside, rolling hard against the frozen ground. A searing pain tore down their arm. Claws? A blade? They couldn't tell.

Leader pushed up on shaking limbs, gasping through gritted teeth. Their vision blurred for a moment before steadying. The moonlight flickered as if something enormous had passed in front of it, then the world stilled.

Silence.

Leader swallowed hard, pressing a hand to their bleeding arm. Whatever this thing was, it wasn’t attacking outright. It was playing with them. Testing them.

And Leader refused to be prey.

Straightening, they locked their stance, dagger shining under the light. "Show yourself!"

A chuckle slithered through the air, curling around the trees like smoke. "Brave," the voice mused. "And foolish." 

Leader didn’t answer. Their pulse pounded in their ears, breathing steadily despite the sting in their arm. They had to end this quickly. They couldn't afford to be dragged into a fight they didn't understand—not alone. 

A shadow shifted to their left. Leader caught the movement too late. Something cold wrapped around their wrist—long fingers, too many of them. The dagger nearly got torn from their grip, but Leader twisted, driving the blade downward. 

It struck something solid. 

A low, wet hiss filled the air. Leader barely had time to register it before they were thrown back, slamming hard into frozen rocks. Pain jolted through their ribs, but they gritted their teeth, forcing themselves upright.  Their head throbbed, and they tried to find their footing while striking blindly. They weakly leaned to a tree when they managed to get a grip, their body aching.

The thing - whatever it was - stepped forward from the shadows.

This time, Leader saw it clearly. It was tall, taller than any human, its form draped in something that shifted like tattered cloth but moved like a living shadow. Its limbs were too long, fingers curling and uncurling as if testing the weight of the air. And its face—  It had no face. Just holes of darkness where features should have been. 

The thing tilted its head, the motion too slow. "You wound too easily," it murmured, voice making Leader's skin crawl. 

Leader forced their stance steady, ignoring the pain. "What are you?" they demanded. 

The creature’s fingers twitched. The wind whistled, and Leader had only a second to brace before darkness slammed into them, ice-cold and suffocating.  Leader tried to stand up, but a hand wrapped around their throat.

Darkness crowded Leader’s vision. They tried to cut the arm, but the dagger hit metal, Leader's grip failing.

Then it stated. Its nonexistent eyes dug into Leader's. Leader struggled, but their strength was failing. They could only state back as fire reflected on the creature's face.

That fire.

Leader wanted to look away from the memory, but they couldn't. They felt their skin heat up, the healed places throbbing. The creature screamed, and Leader felt themselves drop, the impact jarring, but the air rushed back into their lungs. Leader gasped, coughing against the freezing air.

Leader barely had time to think before the thing staggered back, its form distorting like smoke caught in a storm. The fire had hurt it. 

Leader forced themselves onto their knees, breaths ragged. Their hands trembled, but they tightened their grip on the dagger, forcing  through. The creature’s body flickered, parts of it pulling apart and reforming like shifting shadows, but Leader didn’t miss the way it curled slightly inward. The way it hesitated. 

It was hurt. Maybe Leader could do it again.

Leader gritted their teeth, pushing themselves upright. The fire. Leader laughed. So absurd, so irrelevant. The warmth against their skin had felt real for a moment—too real. But it wasn’t. It was just a memory. 

The creature straightened slowly, its faceless gaze locking onto them again. It was studying them, curious. Maybe even confused from the reaction.

Leader couldn't stop laughing. They were out of breath, against something they didn't understand, and the thing was afraid of what broke Leader in the first place. 

The creature shifted, its movement now less deliberate and more… uncertain. Leader’s laughter died on their lips slowly, replaced by a raw, ragged breath as the chill of that touch seeped into their bones. They tried to be still, not being sure if they would be able to get back to their feet if they fell.

Then, almost as if to tease, the creature drew closer. Its long fingers brushed over Leader’s arm with the tenderness of a lover. Leader’s heartbeat thundered in their ears as a twisted smile formed despite the pain— acceptance of the absurdity of their situation.

“You laugh when you should fear,” the creature hissed, its voice a dissonant melody echoing in the frozen air. Its tone held an odd mixture of amusement and cruelty.

The creature paused, head tilting as if weighing the value of its next act. Slowly, it extended a hand - no, a tendril of shifting darkness - toward Leader’s chest. Leader swhung the dagger to cut it off, but the darkness dissolved, only to reappear as it went through Leader and embraced them. The creature’s touch grew colder, a creeping frost that invaded every fibre of Leader’s being.

A mocking chuckle vibrated through the air as the creature’s fingers traced patterns on Leader’s skin. “You’ll make a good offering for them,” it murmured, voice now tinged with a melancholy that betrayed ancient sorrow. “But you're not broken enough. Not yet.”

Before Leader could muster a defiant retort or retreat, the creature’s grip shifted. In one fluid, almost graceful motion, it pressed down on Leader’s neck. A pressure that was neither purely violent nor gentle—just a force that made out of shadows, but somehow solid, drawing the very life from within.

Leader’s vision began to blur. Their fingers loosened around the dagger, the reassuring weight slipping away. The mingled sensations of searing cold and numbing heaviness battled inside them, and the creature’s strange tone faded into a final, echoing whisper.

With one last ragged breath, Leader’s body slumped against the rough bark of the tree, their vision succumbing to the darkness that had been creeping in from all sides. The creature withdrew its grasp slowly, as though savouring the victory, leaving Leader to fall into the darkness.

Leader’s breath was shallow, their body numb with cold. The red-tinged sky blurred above them, and for a moment, they weren’t sure if they had truly woken up or if they were still trapped in the creature’s grasp. The world felt distant, unreal. 

But the pain, dull and spreading, was real enough. 

With a sharp inhale, Leader forced themselves to move, their limbs stiff as if frozen solid. Their fingers dug into the frozen ground as they pushed up onto unsteady legs. The world tilted, and they caught themselves against the rough bark of the tree. Their ribs throbbed, and their arm - where the thing had clawed them - burned beneath the drying blood. 

Had any of it been real? 

They blinked, scanning the treeline. There were no signs of the creature. No shifting shadows, no whispers curling in the air. No marks of claws. Just the sound of the wind sighing through the branches, rustling frost-covered leaves. Their dagger was still clutched in their trembling fingers, and as they lifted it, the blade gleamed faintly in the rising dawn. The black liquid was gone. 

Leader swallowed hard. Maybe it had been a nightmare. A fevered illusion from exhaustion and cold. But the wounds were still there. 

They had to get back to camp. 

Limping forward, Leader focused on each step, their boots crunching over frost-laced grass. The walk back felt longer than before, their body heavy with fatigue. Every breath was a struggle, and every inch of them ached, but they pressed on, driven by the distant glow of embers still burning at the campsite. 

The camp was silent when they arrived. The fire had dimmed, leaving behind only weak flickers of warmth. Right Hand, Healer, and Youngest were still curled up inside the tent, their breathing slow and steady. None of them had stirred. 

Leader exhaled, slow and careful. They didn’t want to wake them. Not when they had no answers. They slid out, walking to the river.

Grimacing, they knelt by the water, reaching for the supplies tucked beside their packs. Their fingers fumbled as they unwrapped a cloth bundle, pulling out herbs and a cloth. The wound on their arm wasn’t deep, but it stung as they poured water over it, washing away dried blood. Their ribs were worse—aching with every movement—but there was little they could do besides bind them and endure. 

As they secured the bandage around their arm, a sound broke the stillness—a quiet rustle from the tent. 

Leader glanced up sharply, heart pounding. Right Hand came out of tent, groggy. Leader quickly fixed their clothes, splashing water to their face.

"Good morning," Leader muttered. Right Hand followed the motion, dunking their whole face. They then yanked the cloth from Leader's hand, luckily the clean one. Leader let the blood soaked one go, the river taking it away.

"The water is freezing," Right Hand gasped. They wiped their face, finally turning to Leader. Their face fell immediately, their eyes fixating on the bandages Leader wrapped on their shoulder. "What the hell happened?"

[autocrats-in-love]

Prompt (195)

The villain had accepted this is how they would die. They stopped struggling against the arms pushing them underwater. Everything was hazy. The villain closed their eyes as their lungs burned.

And then the arms came off them and different hands reached down, snatching the villain's collar and hauling them to the surface of the lake.

The villain took deep breaths of air and started coughing. They were dragged a few metres to shore and laid down. They turned over and threw up water and bile onto the grass. They opened their eyes and things were very blurry.

But they were sure they saw the hero standing in front of them, protectively.

"Stay away from them," the hero snarled at the villain's attacker.

The hero's grip tightened on the blood-covered crowbar in their right hand.