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#it only gets worse from here

coelii · 6 months

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So for those who aren’t fully acquainted with me yet - I’m old.

Not old old like a boomer, I’m just a millennial- but I’m old enough to remember the birth of the internet and the days before tumblr. In those days we had Livejournal.

I made a tumblr in 2007 when it came out and while I still have it the posts are all gone (I think I deleted them myself in a bout of shame prolly). But what HAS survived was my Livejournal. I won’t link it because it definitely doxxes me but I WILL share with you a curated selection of what a 17 year old Coelii was like. Content Warning: he was an angsty boy. :P

Here was his first post:

Mmmmm that tasty beef ramen. But hey, he was enjoying the Brisket game! She totally wasn’t his favorite character or anything or made him feel strange things a cis boy shouldn’t be feeling.

Yes, I’m sure you can’t quite put your finger on why this game is so incredible. It’s certainly not a favorite among trans girlies for a reason.

But hey - for any of you disbelievers here’s some proof that Castlevania was and remains my favorite game series.

(by the way I’m really hoping you’re taking notes to listen to all these songs and let me know how lame they are now :P)

Playing with her….playing gunbound that is. 🤮

Fun fact about KNK - she’s about to become my first girlfriend :O

More to come~

#coelii.cringe #livejournal #it only gets worse from here

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blondeaxolotl · 3 months

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My Brain After Your Arts Influencing Me:

Dollrice vs CielDoll

DOLLRICE VS CIELDOLL

Also me:

Lol Joker and Dagger trying not to murder hearing dudes like Doll

Sighs ykw since I accidentally started Dollrice might as well embrace it and make it worse

When we're talking canon Dollrice (like black butler not red butler), it's not hard to believe Maurice thought Doll was a guy, but it'd be funnier if Doll herself also thought Maurice was a girl, and both probably thought that for a while until a third party was like "You do realise Doll is a girl/Maurice is a guy" and you just see them stare at eachother like:

Thing is, Doll is definitely aware of the fact she looks like a guy and sometimes purposely messes with people (Hell, I myself headcanon her as bigender). But I believe Doll, never in her own life would've thought that she would ever get confused over someone else's identity than the usual other way around. Must've been a wild experience.

in long story short: Both Doll and Maurice are so gender-breaking norms that they ended up fooling eachother by pure accident, they're the definition of "Handsome Girl" and "Beautiful Boy".

#never thought id write dollice headcanon thingy but here we are #it only gets worse from here #black butler #kuroshitsuji #maurice cole #black butler maurice #black butler freckles #black butler doll #dollice #maureckles #doll x maurice #freckles x maurice #art #my art #doodles #mono ask

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idoweirdcrap · 25 days

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i hate adding the colours (so boring)

As he retreated to his room, Lance considered his options. He could try to get over Keith. He could sit in this bedroom for days, trying to make sense of the situation at hand. Or he could lock himself in this bathroom until the problems solved themselves.

A few minutes turned to hours, hours turned to days, and the Paladins became concerned. After all, this was Lance we were talking about. Lance was always happy, always laughing, always extroverted. But not anymore. He hadn't left the bathroom for three days and was surviving off tap water (it’s filtered. He’s not a COMPLETE heathen). He couldn't go much longer without food though, so the Paladins worked in shifts to sit outside Lance’s room so they could catch him as he left.

Lance never did.

It was Allura who entered the room first, Pidge assisting her in overriding the door’s code. There Lance sat, curled up in a ball, eyes wide and unblinking. He was high. On what, though? There weren't exactly many drug dealers around this part of the Universe. But Keith knew because he had felt this way before.

Lance was high on despair.

#klangst week #it only gets worse from here #hehehehe #klance #keith kogane #lance mcclain #klance pants

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mcondance · 4 months

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cw gunplay

fontaine’s eyes are as dark and menacing as the gun pointed at you right now. hardened and terrifying, you bear witness to a slice of the part of fontaine that has people around the glen scared to even look at him wrong. you asked for it, asked to be put down like this, and you shake with the gravity of what you got in return. “get yo’ ass up.” he says, grills glimmering like even they have adopted his vile demeanor. you obey him on shaking legs, barely on your feet before he’s putting the gun to the middle of your forehead, glowering as you try your hardest to face him and not cross your eyes on his gun. moving ever closer, metal against your forehead, he speaks. “i could put a bullet in yo’ pretty ass head right now. ha' them brains all over the floor."

#it only gets worse from here #fontaine x reader #fontaine smut #not even the full thing but i wanted to post it and rip the bandaid off SHOUT OUT TO INDY #fontaine x black reader #fontaine x black!reader #fontaine x you #cw gunplay #plus there's some character work i wanna do but i'm taking my ass to sleep so #look forward to that

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stvrchaser · 2 years

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destined or doomed?

( pairing ) : five hargreeves x reader

( about ) : five makes a discovery about his future self and the life he’s setting himself up for

( warnings ) : angst, five being oblivious so they’re kind of a mess (don't worry, there’s fluff at the end. they stressed me out so i thought they deserved a happy moment before i inevitably destroy them)

( words ) : 2600

( note ) : you know that scene in ep4 where five finds out his future self invents the place that literally made him a killer who had to live with the guilt of every life he’s taken but then they never talk about it again? yeah. here’s my take on the mental breakdown that could have ensued after that. (oh and watch out for a pt2. did you really think i was gonna end the pain here?)

edit: here’s part 2 !!

“All that will be left is… oblivion.”

It’s a chilling warning to begin with, a prophesied forthcoming of the end — the end of everything. Uneasiness pricks at your skin, your mind unsure of how to process what you’re seeing and hearing. Here lies the creator of the sole protector of order across the timelines and he’s… unanticipated. He’s a simultaneous friend and stranger.

He’s Five Hargreeves, decades into the future, the barely breathing image of Death.

“What do you mean?” Lila inquires, similarly baffled by the scene at play.

“This is what you have coming,” Five tells his younger self. Of all the abnormalities you’ve been dealing with in the past couple of weeks, this takes the cake by far. In between supernatural abilities, the end of the world, and all the moments in between, this seems the most ridiculous, somehow. You would have never imagined, not in your wildest dreams, that Five — so full of fire and life for as long as you’ve known each other — would someday be reduced to gaunt remains to power the ruins of the Commission. It’s just not right. Five is meant to see the world, to immerse himself in the wonderful things it has to offer. He’s not supposed to be tied down to a machine, stripped of life and humanity.

“Listen to me, you ass,” Five begins. Frustrated, he seems tempted to throttle himself for answers. “I just spent the last 20 days running around, saving the world from apocalypses, only to keep trying to save the world. Now I’m stuck in this pubescent body, my hormones are raging, and all I wanna do is go out and buy a 1970s Corvette Stingray.” He speaks through gritted teeth, low and intended entirely for himself. You hurt for him, really. He’s so tired all the time. He deserves a break, you figure. All versions of him.

“Take it easy on him, Five,” you say. Is it strange to feel sympathy for this distant imitation of the Five you know? It should be, considering he’s lived years ahead of the man you’re familiar with. He’s barely even looked at you. Should he matter to you? Is it possible that this version of Five doesn’t know you? But regardless of whether or not you’re acquainted, they’re the same, aren’t they? Five Hargreeves will always be stubborn, and it seems heroics are also in his nature. He intends to repair, to salvage. He wouldn’t live his last prolonged breaths in this facility if he didn’t have a greater purpose.

“Maybe they’re right,” Lila agrees, giving you a weary look. “He’s hanging by a thread. It might be best if—”

“This is between me and myself, so stay out of it.” Under different circumstances, you might berate him for being rude, but you understand his distress. Instead, you stay silent, settling for giving Lila an apologetic look. “Thank you,” he mutters, appreciative.

The second that he turns back to you, you try to look calm. You try to show him the unconditional support he’ll always have so long as you’re around, hoping to somehow communicate it as genuinely as humanly possible. If it works, you’re not sure. Five turns away almost immediately.

“Now, this Kugelblitz, it isn’t some tiny leak that we can fix by patching a couple of pinholes. It’s a giant trash compactor which is grinding up the universe and consuming it whole. So tell me how you stop it!” Guiltily, you watch him tremble with rage. A part of you, despite wanting to grant him space and privacy, feels helpless. You want to help, but Five has always insisted he do things alone. If you were to offer, would he even accept?

“Whatever you do,” his older counterpart gasps, the steady beeping of his heart monitor gradually quickening, “…don't save the world.”

What?

Now, that doesn’t sound like the Five you know. What happened to the man so desperate to save his family? What happened to that insufferable determination to live?

“Dont… or you will lose everything that matters.” For a second, you think the older Five purposefully turns to you, almost as if he’s talking directly to you. For the first time, he meets your gaze. Unexpectedly, he looks mournful. Why? What does he have to mourn? He’s the one dying, not you. What is he grieving? Suddenly, you think you did know each other, after all.

Until when?

“What do you mean, don't save… Five!” he panics as the whirring of the machine starts to die down. His older self has gone still, eyes blank and his body lifeless. “No,” Five starts again. “How do I fix this?”

You reach forward, searching for a pulse. You flinch at the contact but don’t find the steady rhythm you’re hoping for. This confounding remainder of a man, despite passing merely seconds ago, feels cold. He’s completely and utterly lifeless and his lack of consciousness is almost tangible. It was almost as if you could feel that his soul had parted with his body.

“He's dead, Five.” He inhales a sharp breath like he might start crying. Expectedly, he turns away from you. He hides. Five has a tendency to seclude himself behind a set of walls that you insist aren’t necessary. He turns to them anyway, a constant companion and a trusted salvation.

“Can I have the room?”

“Five, do you really think that’s a good idea?” You know it isn’t. It isn’t healthy at all to let anyone bottle up their emotions the way he does. Still, you respect his decision when he inevitably declines the offer. He’s grieving. He needs time. What he needs, you’ll give.

“Y/N, please. I need the room.” You sigh.

“Alright. I’ll be right outside if you need anything.”

ミ★

Five hasn’t talked about it since you left. He insisted on coming back to the hotel. Immediately. Yes, you decided to grant him his respite, but you assumed he would at least bring it up. Why won’t he bring it up?

“I know you want to ask. Go ahead,” he offers. Turned away, pouring himself another glass of wine or vodka or whatever the end of the world has to offer for refreshments, Five is impossible to read. His voice doesn’t betray any hint of emotion and neither will his face.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” You bristle.

“What’s the point of letting me ask if you’re going to lie to me anyway?”

“I just watched myself die.”

“I know, Five. I was there. Why else do you think I’m so worried?” He turns in his chair, still emotionless when he meets your gaze. If two opposites are supposed to neutralize each other, you’ve defeated the odds. He’s too calm, uncaring, and it makes your blood boil.

“What do you want me to say, Y/N?” He doesn’t even snap at you. Sure, he sounds exhausted but that’s all there is to it — tiredness. Not at all does he seem interested in solving the issue at hand. He’s not calculating the odds, mind almost loud enough to be heard, not like he was the first two times he’d tried to save the world.

“Well, how do you feel, for starters?

“I was… what? One-hundred?” he dismisses, incredulously considering the circumstances, “I’d lived an entire lifetime ahead of myself now. What do I have to sympathize with? Chances are he barely remembers anything from this point in time.”

“What do you — what do you have to sympathize with?” you echo, outraged. “It’s you, Five! You just watched yourself, fifty or so years into the future hooked up to machines. And for what? So you could keep the Commission running? You know what that place can do to a person. Aren’t you upset about that?”

“Apparently not, seeing as I created it.”

“And nothing about that seems off to you? I mean, not just for yourself right now, but what about everyone else? What about others, people like me and Lila, who were… that place robbed us all of everything, Five. Do you honestly believe that you could make the Commission knowing all that you do right now?”

“We don’t know what will happen between now and then.”

“If we don’t even try to save the world, we’ll never find out.” He takes a moment to consider your point. At least, you hope that’s what he’s doing, not forming another argument.

“Why does this mean so much to you?” It’s your turn to hesitate. Why does it? Mean so much to you, that is. If the Commission is established in this timeline, the guilt isn’t placed on you. You won’t be repeating history. Five will.

But why should he? You don’t think it’s a decision you’ll ever understand, certainly not one you’ll ever agree with. But when he does, what happens to the two of you? Is this how you lose each other?

Because I never would have let you do this to yourself all over again, you want to say. Because the only reason you could have ever done this is if I wasn’t there to stop you.

“Why does it mean so little to you?”

“I would have never met you if it weren’t for the Commission,” he says, and it stings because he’s right. The two of you would have never met. But what does that matter in comparison to the universe at risk? Five could live on without you. He already has.

“That price… in exchange for the life you should have had. If you gain the power between now and later to start the Commission, you’ll have the power to go home, Five. You can fix the problem before your younger self even finds out about it. There doesn’t have to be an apocalypse. Viktor doesn’t have to be the catalyst. You don’t have to be the savior. You wouldn’t have to worry about all this.” You try to contain your tears, blinking rapidly to keep them at bay. “You can save yourself. You can save your family.”

“You know that’s not how it works. I can’t meddle with time for my own benefit. That’s not the purpose of the Commission.”

“This isn’t about the Commission, it’s about you! The whole point of me starting this conversation is because I care about you!”

Five internally, but visibly, battles with himself in the futile attempt to understand what this entails. You care about him. You care about him? To the same extent that he cares for a good bottle of whiskey or a fresh brew of black coffee? Care in the same way he cared about preventing the apocalypse twenty days ago?

Or could it be possible that you care about him as much as he cares about you?

“You… care about me?” he asks, hesitantly. You scoff because it’s absolutely ridiculous.

“How could you possibly not know that by now?”

“What does that even mean?” he asks like the wind has been knocked out of his lungs.

He’s an idiot. That’s the only way to explain how this is all unfolding.

“You’re really gonna make me say it right now? Mid-argument?”

“Say what?”

“That I love you!”

Five can feel the world stop spinning beneath his feet. Or maybe it’s spinning too fast. He doesn’t know, and he doesn’t give a shit. Maybe the Kugelblitz had come early and he’d experienced a death so merciful that he didn’t even realize he was dead. He’s in the afterlife, isn’t he? It’s the only plausible explanation. But, wait. That can’t be. He never particularly liked making you angry. Mean, maybe, but never angry. Especially not with him.

“Hello? Earth to Five? What? Did you short-circuit or something?”

“You love me,” he echoes without much thought. It isn’t that he doubts the meaning. He just needs to hear it again, from his own mouth, to make sure it’s real.

“Yes, I fucking love you!”

“Why are you angry?”

“Because you’re pissing me off!”

Something about the passion, albeit unideal for a love confession, sparks something in him. He feels it bloom in his chest, climbing his veins and enclosing his entire body in thrill and relief all at once. Before he can consider what it means, he’s surging forward, pulling you in for a kiss.

Your open mouths collide and he isn’t too sure if it’s because you’d initially intended to welcome the kiss or if he'd interrupted your attempt to yell at him some more. If it’s the latter, your better judgement goes flying out the window because fuck if this doesn’t feel as good as you’d always imagined. He’s so warm and so gentle and so endearingly clumsy that it only makes you want to pull him closer. He tastes like good coffee — only the best — and you decide right then and there to let him have as many as he’d like if he’ll let you taste it on his lips again.

Five forgets how to think altogether.

“I love you,” he confesses in the split second that your lips part.

“What?” You freeze.

Oh. He’d said that out loud.

“I—”

“This isn’t… We shouldn’t. I shouldn’t be doing this.”

Five thinks he’ll fall to the floor and beg if it meant you could do it again.

You pull away, ashamed that you’ve forgotten how vulnerable he is. Five had just seen something unimaginably traumatic and, here you are, taking advantage of the situation.

Five doesn’t mind it so much. He doesn’t mind it at all. In fact, he’d entirely forgotten about the matter at hand. What had you two been fighting about? Is it the annihilation of all mankind? Is it the Commission?

“I’m so so sorry. You just watched yourself die, Five.” Oh, there’s that, too. “I don’t think this is the time. I didn’t… I wasn’t thinking.”

“The time? Y/N, this is all the time we have,” he reminds you, his tone urgent while he continues to catch his breath.

“Not if we keep trying! We could have so much more than — what? Two days? We could have years.” Five sighs guiltily, and his stance on the subject is clear.

“If I try to save the world, that only means I live long enough to witness something worse than this — something terrible enough to make me want to create the Commission. You were right. I don’t want that any more than you do.” He takes a breath, his shoulders shaking as he does, and gets ahold of your hands, rubbing circles onto the back of your palms in attempt to calm you or himself, possibly both. He doesn’t look up again, just stares at your hands intertwined. “Besides, seeing as I live until… At some point, you’re not going to be there. I don’t want to have to live through that. I love you too much for that.”

You step closer, freeing one of your hands from his grasp to tilt his chin upward. Forced to meet your gaze, he stills, afraid. The expression is so foreign on his face and you want to wipe it away, forbid fear from marring someone so wonderful. So, you press a soft kiss to his lips, reveling in the feeling once again. This time, there’s less tension — only passion as you memorize the curve of his mouth and the languid caress of his hand across your cheek.

This is heaven. This is peace. You will take as much of it as you can, freed of the fear that, one day, either of you will have to live without it.

“You won’t have to. I won’t let that happen.”

#they’re so messy idk how that reflects in my mental state #it only gets worse from here #the umbrella academy #five hargreeves x reader #number five #five hargreaves x reader #number five x reader #number five x you #number five x y/n #five hargreeves x you #five hargreeves x y/n #fluff #angst #tua season 3 #tua netflix #tua3

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memyselfandmya · 3 days

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11 days until JWCT

Something that always has me dying with humourless laughter is in Last Day of Camp, when they're on the monorail talking about all of their plans when they get back home.

Like, you sweet little naive kids.

#you have no idea what's coming for you #this is only the beginning #you don't even know #it only gets worse from here #jwcc #jurassic world camp cretaceous #jwct

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closet-of-bones · 5 months

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Okay the tsams space pirates au is happening I've thought too much about it, have a story to tell and two character designs done already - working on the next one effective immediately. I have the ideas planned for 11 characters already...I have to draw 11 of them because I am a masochist

Man I already have some semi-cohesive world-building for this stuff. I started rambling on and on to myself in my notes app like any sane person would. The beginnings of the story are being set. And a way of including y/n's if anyone's down to interact with the funky space robots. Just let me get started I'm already on a roll-

Maybe I should just go to therapy... ( . _.)✍️

#closet talk #tsams au #mmmm so many ideas #so many thoughts #and feelings #and im in too deep now #i needed smth to do anyway #i have two characters drawn already #once the refs are done I'll start on a comic i think #not vouching for the quality of any of this btw #i am not very good at this stuff #but screw it im doing it for me and whoever else may derive joy from my silly little things #space pirates #robots in space #can you tell im invested yet?#it only gets worse from here #i have 'sending the entire cast of tsams into space' brainrot

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mara-xx217 · 11 months

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Ending H (Fear & Hunger) Ch. 2- A New Dolly

Why does this game unlock a fucked up part of my brain FR-

It's no fun when he's left all alone after the torturing is done... Why not make himself a soft, sweet little doll that can keep him company in the monotonous breaks between his thrilling work?

Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Physical and Psychological Torture, Bondage, Rape/Noncon, Experimentation, Amputation, Mind Break

That frail looking, disfigured torturer managed to catch you unawares. The blow to your head had knocked you unconscious and while you were out cold he managed to haul you onto the flat table in the torture room and bound your hands in place. Even as your head throbs and your eyes struggle to adjust to the unnatural dark of the dungeon, you know that you are totally fucked. You don’t need to see the implements that the little freak was fondling and drooling over to know that your death will be a slow and painful one.

“Yesch, Yesch… So many different ways, s-sso little time…” He was mumbling to himself, picking up one thing only to hesitate and set it down before picking up another. The soft metallic clank of the tools repeatedly tapping against the sheet the torture devices were displayed upon constantly played upon your frayed nerves, making you twitch and jump at every little noise that echoed off the stone walls of the torture room.

You couldn’t see much from the angle you were laying. Not only were your wrists and ankles bound, but your head was strapped down so that you couldn’t turn your neck at all. All you could do was stare at the torturer’s hunched back, waiting for the inevitable. When he turned around to face you, your stomach dropped.

Everything about him was grotesque. You couldn’t stand to look at him but looking away into the pitch blackness wasn’t a good alternative either. Panic began to numb your mind as the torturer looked over your body. He seemed to still be debating to himself on the best place to begin your torture.

“Too little… Too little…” You jumped and tried to shrink away from his touch, the tips of his brittle and cracked nails touching your bare hand had your skin crawling and a chill racing down your spine. A pathetic whimper bubbled up from the back of your throat. It was all you could do to not burst into hysterical sobs. The anticipation of pain and suffering might be the worst kind of torture, you thought. But you didn’t know cruelty like this miserable creature did…

Trortur was scrutinizing every little detail of your body. Your bone structure, your weight, the suppleness of your skin… He pinched the skin of your cheek, pleased with how soft it was and how it quickly snapped back into shape. You pressed your prettily shaped lips into a thin line as his fingers traced around their edges, but it wouldn’t stop him from prying them open so he could look at your pearly white teeth. All there, in pristine condition…

“F-Fine s-specimen… S-sso…” The words got lost in his throat as he fished for his trusty knife. It was an old favourite of his: sharp enough to flay a man but also sturdy enough to cut through the pesky leather straps that held your armour together. The look of terror on your face went straight to his core as he sliced through the first strap with a flick of his wrist.

“W-Wai- W-Wait a moment-!”

Trortur hummed to himself as your struggle against your bindings renewed. The whimpers and cries of despair and defeat are so sweet on the ears… Yours were no different from the others, yet the thrill it brings him is already enough to cause his hands to tremble and he has yet to cause you any real pain yet!

Cut.

Your chest plate is peeled away like a layer of skin. With every breath you took, your chest heaved. Sweat soaked through your tunic and your eyes were pinpricks with fear. Trortur placed his hand on your chest so he could feel the beating of your heart.

Ba-dum-ba-dum-ba-dum-ba-dum-

Quick, just like a little rabbit’s… He stroked the slope of your chest, his own heartbeat quickening as your body shuddered and tears formed in your bloodshot eyes.

“Do you know when a p-perschon dies?”

No prisoner has ever engaged Trortur in his little musings, but he never really minded. Your eyes were fixated on him, never wavering, never blinking, as a look of pure terror was etched onto your face. You were paying attention and that was more than most afforded him.

“I-Isch it w-when their heart s-stopss beating?” His hand swept back up your chest, laying to rest over your heart that slammed persistently against your ribcage.

“Or w-when the blood i-is drained from their body?” He raises his hand and places it on your head, a searing pain suddenly causing you to hiss and wince in pain. When Trortur brought his fingers to your face, you could see a smear of blood painted on his sickly yellow skin.

“I-I think there i-isch another kind o-of death… One where the m-mind goess but the b-body remains…” The blood from your head wound is wiped across your lips. Your mouth twitches and you instinctively licked the blood from your lips. The look on the torturer’s face shifted into something that made the corners of your vision blacken and caused a faintness to wash over you. You were on the verge of blacking out from fear and terror but to Trortur, you were a swooning beauty.

It was common for arousal to be associated with pain. It was something that Trortur was… intimately familiar with, but it wasn’t only him that experienced euphoria where pain was involved, whether it be from experiencing it or inflicting it onto others. Over the years that he’s been a torturer, he’s seen men and women alike, no matter their birth status or the religion they followed, they all experienced pleasure in the harm he caused them. Shaking, quaking orgasms in the midst of brutal torture…. Of skin being stripped away in neat strips, bones being broken, being sawn in two… It was the pain and trauma that killed them all, but would it be possible for the pleasure to be an equally devastating force? He had to know the truth and now he had the perfect test subject for this little experiment…

The kiss to your lips was clumsy and full of teeth. You couldn’t shrink away from it nor could you turn your head in protest. His lips were chapped and rough yet covered in foul smelling and tasting saliva. You clenched your fingers into a fist and screwed your eyes shut. The torturer pulled away, cackling maniacally as his body trembled.

“Hrrrm-! Mmm-! Oh yesch… You will do perfectly…” He purred as he scurried away from your side. He went back to the tray and picked up… a bone saw- Oh no- No no no no no no- NO! NO NO NO NO NOOOO-!!!

Your pleas went on deaf ears. A tourniquet was placed on one of your legs, in the middle of your upper thigh, the pressure so tight and cutting that you cried out and began to scream hysterically before he even began to press the blade into your flesh. Trortur needed to take a moment to steady his breathing before he began the procedure.

“D-Don’t worry… There will only be a slight-”

The moment the saw’s teeth bit into your skin, something primal broke inside of you. It was like the world was in slow motion; you thrashed and screamed but you couldn’t hear your voice over the beating of your heart. The first drag of the saw cut through your clothing and sliced into the skin of your thigh. The second cut deeper into your flesh, hot pain shooting up through your body and warm blood spilling down your leg and pooling under your body. The third had your body quivering and sobs spilling from your lips. The fourth, however, hit bone and what you felt was indescribable.

You felt like you were dying. To say it was painful would be a grave disservice to the utter agony that you felt. The initial pain seemed to last forever, like it was one hellish moment that would stretch on for the rest of eternity. This is what you imagined the Sulfur Pits to be like. This unbearable pain forever and ever with no relief in sight. You lost count of how many times your leg was sawn into. It all blurred together until the white-hot pain had numbed you completely. You must be in shock, right? Your entire body felt wet and cold and hot at the same time. You didn’t know it was over until a chill ran down your spine and the torturer held his hand in front of your face.

“Ohhh… S-See thisch?” Something slick and musky smelling was rubbed underneath your nose. You didn’t have the energy to react. Only a few stray tears ran down your cheeks.

“Pleasure really is tied to p-pain…” Your sweat and blood soaked hair was smoothed down with a trembling hand.

“O-Only three more to go…”

W-What…?

It started over again on your other leg. Then again on one of your arms. By the time he started on your remaining limb, you had no more tears left to shed. You couldn’t feel anything other than the throbbing of your heart where your limbs once were. This is when you die, right? There’s no coming back from something like this. You have no arms, no legs… All you can do is stop breathing…

But you didn’t.

Something broke inside of you that day. Whoever or whatever you were before entering the Dungeon of Fear & Hunger was no more, only a shell was left behind that was nothing more than a living doll to the torturer, Trortur.

Anything spark of defiance that remained in you was quickly demolished once the real torture began. Every moment that he wasn’t with another ‘subject’, Trortur was with you, inflicting every conceivable form of pleasure that his sick, twisted little mind could conjure up.

Even in your mostly unresponsive state, he could still pull moans out of you whenever he would stroke you with his tongue or when he would plunge his fingers inside of you. With time, it’s become easier and easier to get you to cum. No longer did you fight against him and hold back. Now you would come unraveled with the gentlest of touches. And when he fucked you? Utter bliss… Your moans and cries were so sweet… just like how you would clench around him and milked his cock for all it was worth.

All you would be for the rest of your life is the fuck doll of a demented torturer, kept locked up and hidden away so that no one other than him would be the one to break you over and over and over again. There is no comfort in the moments you have alone as you sit in utter silence and dark, nor was there when that deformed man was hunched over you and humping away at the hole between your legs. Nothing felt like anything anymore… Not when the agony of existence was constantly numbed by the pleasures of the flesh.

Ending H- A New Dolly

@prettycutebunny, @infinitewhore, @kennbb, @slutwithadegree, @dead-bxxxtch-walking, @space-arsonist, @pink-soft-shadow, @sinlessdesire, @hoemine

#fear and hunger #fear & hunger #fear & hunger x reader #fear & hunger ending h #fear & hunger trortur #tw non con #tw amputation #tw dead dove #it only gets worse from here #idk why this pathetic little freak fascinates me so much ok?

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paper-lilypie · 2 years

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LILY, LILY, I STARTED READING CCRT AND NEARLY CRIED IN THE FIRST SECTION OF CHAP. 1, I LOVE IT SO MUCHHHH-

OH DARLING DONT CRY—

#holds you there there #it only gets worse from here #snshshshsj #fnaf #post fire au #ask lily

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l3xdrigo · 4 months

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Day Two

(Let's go Melania!!)

(Sotheby's going through it rn)

(Ha! Deserved lol)

(At least the President is dead but.. I think each of them had different targets right?? Marian wouldn't kill Schneider.. Right!)

(Horrorpedia is losing it and Mesmer is most likely losing a shit ton of sanity by this interaction)

(May all of them be at peace, except for the president, I just realize as I was saying this that Schneider and X has killed people and The president is the only one without a kill count.. That's ironic..)

(I can't fit all of night two sadly🥲)

#reverse 1999 #Reverse1999 #Hunger games:Reverse 1999 edition #This day went..well not great but not the worst #it only gets worse from here

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ultramantr1gger · 5 months

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showa ultraman is like watching paint dry

#it only gets worse from here #|blazar stone|

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crazywolf828 · 2 years

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New chapter of the ff/EMT au is up! Have fun suffering :)

#it only gets worse from here #rwby #bmblb #bumblby #bumbleby #yang Xiao long #blake belladonna #yang x blake #blake x yang #fics #fanfiction #my fics #don't mind me