#fucked up shit

[optimisticunicorn]

the woman of his dreams

#almond cookie #truffle cookie #cookie run #cookie run art #cookie run ovenbreak #cookie run kingdom #crob #cr #almondtruffle #fucked up shit #walnut cookie

[hel7l7]

There was (ofcourse) something that I liked about it. After all, how much time had really passed? I still liked the adrenaline, the way everything suddenly seemed more focused - sharper. I felt very alive. I thought I could fight you. Envisioned the way my knuckled would hit your cheekbone. Thought about the blood dripping over your lips, your hand wrapping around my arm dragging me down with you. Just like you always did. I don't think I could fight you - not really. I didn't like any of it. Not really. But for a moment, a short moment; I felt so alive.

#bpd #actually bpd #trauma #ptsd #abuse #vent art #fucked up shit #:)

[rapidhighway]

I like surge but every time I see a piece of content with her and sonic I hit the ground with my fists crying going "this could've been metaaaaall if they gave a shit about him!!!!! TOT"

#there's just lots of i think really similar themes there... #but they won't let him try and ahave a life of his own #i man this is just going to be a post about me complaining #i wish if they won't have him rebel in some way they would go to the extreme woth him being a super loyal soldier who does some really #fucked up shit #but they just have him stand thereeeeee TOT #LET HIM KILL!!!!!

[tinfairies]

Anyway. I want to force Feitan to be my little boy.

He's so short and stunted in growth, I want to call him my little boy and tell him he's too small to do anything by himself.

His cock is so small and he gets mad when I point it out. Squeezing his little balls and laughing when he squeals.

No one has ever touched him like this and he doesn't know if he likes it or not.

I wanna force him to take a bath and give him a good cleaning. Making him cum over and over in the bath just by sticking my finger into his foreskin and rubbing his tip.

Then laying him on the bed and fingering his little ass until he's drooling and can't even try to fight back anymore

#feitan #Feitan portor #Fucked up shit #TW md/lb #Tin smut #tin talks #Idk man #I've been thinking about this all morning

[ultimateplaylistmaker]

OR ALTERNATIVELY

"do you want to die?"

"been there, done that. wasn't my style, maki-roll."

(they don't talk about the way maki can't feel the pulse beneath her fingers as she grips his neck.)

Kokichi absolutely twists his head in a way it shouldnt, moves in ways normal flesh and blood cant, because he doesnt need to be bound by that anymore as long as hes careful to not rip what he cannot force his body to heal

#ndrv3 #anon chaos #FUCKED UP SHIT #schrodinger's kichi au

[lary-the-lizard]

A Little Life is like: What if victims of severe trauma were lovable the way I want them to be and their trauma violent in a way I feel is easy to validate? What if trauma victims were graceful and understood they are forever tainted and corrupted by their past so I don’t have to question their role in society or their morality? What if victims of severe trauma were worthy of my unconditional love? What if I made trauma something easy for me to understand? What if your painful story was made beautiful and edible for me? What if your painful experience was actually about me?

#a little life #fucked up shit #shut the fuck up #the voice of the privileged #say the pretty pretty words #so they think they know what it’s like #they think their crying makes them compassionate #and makes you feel safe and understood

[carlossainzwho]

isa made a tiktok with the 'we need cash' audio on tiktok and on the line that says 'but mcdonalds isn't thrifty, much' isa says donaldson

as in, rebecca donaldson

WOAH MY GIRL IS MAKING A COMEBACK and i ain't complaining

here is the link: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGJpCB1Bh/

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #f1 #isa hernaez #formula 1 #formula one #rebecca donaldson #fucked up shit

[bl00000g]

In the interest of making my multi-fandom blog easier to navigate, all of my Ace attorney/phoenix wright stuff will be tagged ‘ace attorney’ and all of my star wars stuff will be tagged as ‘sw shit’ art tips and writing tips will both be tagged as ‘art tips’ everything else goes as ‘miscellaneous’

As of yet, I am not finished with the tagging system but I got through a decent amount of them.

Any changes will be updated to this post.

We good? Good.

UPDATE!

I have some reddit refugee mutuals (which is to say I adopted them).

Here are my children:

@please-dont-use-rachel-slurs

@weedeadindeehead

@justadragonn

@frozenhusk

@caffeinated-octopus

@schermit

@patlen123

@gildedgremlin

Consider giving them some love!

GOT MORE, BITCHES!!!!

ALSO

Unless they do something bigoted, abusive or harmful:

YOU FUCK WITH THEM, YOU FUCK WITH ME.

————————————————————————-

Due to the very nature of the internet, I have added a new tag ‘fucked up shit’

It is exactly what it says it is.

———————————

UPDATE: someone posted a CRAP TON OF ART BOOKS

#UPDATE #ace attorney #sw shit #miscellaneous #art tips #fucked up shit

[wingsfreedom]

hey, wanna hear a joke?

[X]

#fucked up shit #palestine

[spritzyfae420]

TW - Sagutoyas, grooming

Sagutoyas being a groomer has ruined my day tbh. Really admired her and looked up to her as an animator.

I hope her victims are adjusting well

#sagutoyas #art #animation #warrior cats #fucked up shit #grooming

[ragingcuuuuuunt]

The fact that a few days ago I was alone waiting for the bus and my heart started racing; when I saw a man stopping immediately as he saw me. So I called my brother to come and stay with me until the bus arrived (I don't usually call anyone, but I was too tired to have to deal with that, that day). And when he was there with me, he looked at the man and then at me.

"That is the scary guy?" He asked, and I couldn't figure out his tone. I nodded.

"He seems fine to me." He said, and I looked at him not with disgust just with tiredness.

"They all seem fine at first sight." I told him, he didn't answer.

I will never know if that man was fine or not, but my reaction as a young woman, and my brother's, as a young man, speaks for itself.

#i love being a woman #fuck men #fucked up shit #i hate men #so fucking much

[fertilize-my-eggs]

Me when I see some dark theme content or fanfics:

#dark theme fics #dark content #anime #fanfic #minors dni #mha #bnha #smut #shigaraki x reader #fucked up shit

[aphroditesacolyte]

Meryl and Diosia P23

Ch 23. // Perfect Prey // Read on AO3

Masterpost

Summary: Does love kill?

Content warnings: Indefinite/possible character death, character being eaten whole and alive, general themes of possessiveness, heavy desire, dark infatuation, morbid/violent desires, cannibalism but not technically cannibalism because they're sort of different species, please read at your own discretion, thank you!

*Note: another short one but also a chapter/concept I've been going feral over for a long time. As to whether I've properly articulated the balance between the desire to destroy your own object of affection, the balancing act between love and dark, all-consuming (quite literally :p) infatuation, and uh, cannibalism I'm not entirely sure. This'll probably be a chapter I come back to and edit often in order to better capture the concept, but I hope even if it isn't perfect yet, y'all still enjoy! <3

~Approx word count: 1,437 words

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“I’ll let you try.”

His fingers traced over Meryl’s hands—hands so trusting in the way they curled into his own, somehow a sweet, nostalgic memory to him even if he weren’t so sure he had ever experienced this before. It was familiar—loving. He caressed each finger tenderly, fascinated by their curves and form, the slight angles at which they would bend, and the softness of his palms and skin. He lifted up Meryl’s hands, a kind reverence in his movement and gaze, and pressed his lips to one while still gently cradling the other. With a slight adrenaline trickling into him, his tongue traced the bare remnants of flavour from his kiss.

He took his gaze to Meryl, the buzz and hesitance building up in his core. “You’re certain?”

“Yes. I want to know, Diosia.”

Excitement crackled and tingled throughout his whole body, through his insides and into his heart, and an almost violent fluttering resided in his stomach. This was what he had been waiting for, what he had plotted—salivated over—for almost ten months now. Months of calculation and coercing, nudging his little mer ever so closer to him, drawing him oh-so-slowly into his jaws, and now he could just about sense the taste on his tongue.

The mer trusted him to do this.

He had done it, hadn’t he?

His plan had worked.

He had won.

The silk of blue eyes brushed over him and met with his own, and every worried crease in Meryl’s expression told him that he ought to take this chance, or else the little mer might take it away from him.

He closed his eyes, slowly twisting his hands around Meryl’s, until he wrapped around Meryl’s wrists and could pull them forward—into his mouth. Fingers flinched and struck along the nerves of his lips, brushing against them in an ever-so-slight motion of defiance. However, Meryl settled with him, and soon his palms quite willingly, albeit stiffly, rested upon his tongue. He prodded gently, as if to tell Meryl to relax, and swallowed on, a murmur of delight purring through him as the taste began to truly seep in.

His hands doted over Meryl’s wrists for a moment more before he left them to be swallowed all the same, and placed his hands at Meryl’s waist. His mind became a frantic blur, and before he knew it, he was swallowing up Meryl’s arms and he had reached up gently, planting a grasp in sugared, brown curls, guiding Meryl’s head down so that it might soon join the rest of him.

The weight was already so pleasurable, feeling tired and empty space fill with the dulcet warmth of Meryl’s presence. Each swallow drew Meryl in closer, until at his chest Meryl finally lost his tension and allowed for Diosia to bear all of his weight. If not for his full throat at this he would’ve purred again, delighted even by the insignificant fact that now his jaw carried slightly more weight than it had before.

It was odd, very strange of him indeed; however, he wrapped his arms around his twitching—although compliant—repast and hugged what remained of the mer. He craved several sensations at once, that of a full stomach, and that of full arms. If he could devise a way to wrap around Meryl in every which way he would. It was at that point, as Meryl’s waist passed his lips, that he realized something:

If I kill him… he is gone.

It was a simple thought, a quiet little phrase muttered between every ravenous instinct that screamed and roared in ecstasy, but it struck him so harshly that he almost gagged on it. He had become so carried away with seizing his opportunity, that he hadn’t considered if he should’ve at all. The very thought frenzied his mind, its swift movement so easily obscuring affection and violence into one. After all, was love not for one’s object of affection to fill one’s very veins, to be spilled and to bleed out, filling another’s cup with such a fine red liquid fermented by love?

To consume, to destroy, to love.

A growing, boiling frustration splashed about such a beautiful picture—a silver platter serving a beating heart—its temporary state, the way love would so quickly decay if so ravenously devoured, and yet Diosia could not help this. He needed Meryl. In twists of carnal desire and a long-nurtured lust for violence, however, Diosia knew no other way.

This was what he was meant to do; the purpose he was divined for was to consume, to kill. The rapid assimilation of another being into his own had been but a casual code for so long that he hardly knew what it was like to not eat.

Eating was so familiar, and yet, he felt macerated beyond any reasonable amount, as if his lover could fill all he had lost in so many ways.

To kill Meryl, however, would perhaps prove as sabotage to his purpose. Bondi would inform the colony, a hunt would begin for him, and he’d be forced to run away from all the creatures he was meant to kill.

And, beneath a need to fulfill his purpose, there was something else there—the kind of heat Meryl brought to him and the overwhelming appeal he held—it would be hellish to dim it. He couldn’t bear to be without company, and he was certain he’d never find another siren if he tried. So, not only was Meryl his prize, but he had incidentally become his synthetic siren, a substituting partner. Or at least, Diosia told himself that was all it was.

The meaning of the word love, whether or not it graced his throat or his chest, his eyes, or his ears, was foreign to him—at least for now.

He brushed the thoughts aside for a moment, reasoning with himself that if he were this committed already that he ought to (at the very least) finish what he started. His thoughts gushed out again in complete admiration of his catch as so smoothly and pleasantly, Meryl’s scales slid into his mouth and down his throat. The salt and subtle scrapes that the scales gave only added to his buzz, something akin to being high.

The moment he could he gasped out in pleasure, a raw growl in his voice that foamed up into a bubbling mix of savagery and ardor tugging through his chest, dragging across his heart before leaving his throat. Fullness and a sense of gratification washed over him next as he huffed and growled like a feral wolf, still adjusting to a stifled ability to breathe. In the same bane of rapture, he flopped over onto his back. His hands grazed over the bulge in his core, utterly enamored by the figure underneath and the sensation it brought him. He was captured by his own sadism.

Helpless to his own instincts now, reveling in a place most insignificant to him—a place he hardly paid mind to now—he sat there and purred aloud, whispering sweet-nothings to likely-deaf ears. Once he sat up, his euphoria hadn’t faded, however, reason had come to join it, and so he decidedly stood up and stole away. Discarding his previous location, he sought out a place he knew very well would be perfect for the occasion.

The estuary quickly grew out of sight, and with it any chances of Bondi interrupting him, and he became temporarily comforted by the thought. He would have a time with his perfect little mer that not a soul could take away from him now.

Meryl was his and no one could change that.

After his celebration had calmed, he stopped by his collection of things, plucking up every soft item he had. He hauled everything—stolen blankets and pillows, and other little things that were very much so his favourite, up higher in the cliff he lived, creating a nest within a private, inaccessible crevice. It was well and peaceful—so much so that Diosia might’ve never chosen to leave if he could’ve. Here he curled around his lover, contented and cooing in his nest.

Despite his comfort, it was bound to end one way or another, that he knew. He had to make a choice—let the little mer live or keep him forever. However, soothed by his pile, curled up with his eyes closed and a radiant warmth cradling him, he decided now wasn’t the time.

He would decide tomorrow night—yes, that sounded much better.  

The time to decide would come… later.

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#original characters #original writing #fantasy writing #acolyte's stories: meryl and diosia #oc story #romance writing #oc: diosia #oc: meryl #original story #oc writing #fucked up shit #love meets violence or something along those lines #uhhhh #god what do you even classify this as

[jawnmccain]

Us💖

#relationship goals #fucked up shit #dark k1nk