one being tortured as it should be

anonymous asked:

If that person can't handle the elves being the best, defining race of the game series that's their problem. They should have never added the content for the Dwarfs and qunari fanhards to begin with. And I can't wait until BioWare makes an elf only game so you people can be forced to play one. It was torture playing Hawke. I hope theres an end game option where Solas and the elves can make them suffer for what they did to the Dalish. But of course don't post this we all know how you feel

Alrighty then. Since we have had a multitude of comments on this, we think its time to shut off anonymous for awhile.  Is it a full moon or something?  Please scroll down to read how we will be dealing with this in the future. 

And incidentally, we played all the races here at Dragon Age Confessions and we pretty much think they are all awesome in their own way and they all have strength and weaknesses in their own way.

Elorcan fanfic Part 1: Back in Morath

PART 2 3 4

Summary: Elide begins to get nightmares again and finds help from the last person that she’d expect. 

Please read! This is a multiple chapter, smut will come later, share and give me feedback! This is my first time writing fic and this one is a little short…


It had been a long day, but Elide didn’t mind, she liked working. Labor took her mind off of everything that she was trying to run from. She knew that even with Rowan’s valiant efforts, the search for Aelin was not going well. Elide couldn’t help but blame herself for what was happening to her queen. It should have been her. Elide should have been in that coffin, Elide should have been being tortured.

Keep reading

Ok, here it goes my pre-defense of Daryl and why I do think is actually a very interesting thing that he might actually agree with Richard’s plan in the first place and only change his mind once he realizes is carol the person he is going to kill.

First, from a story perspective, thinking like the characters:

he is completely blind by revenge. He wants to take down negan at all costs. He was already telling Rick they should blow up the sanctuary, even though knowing that there were people there just like him. He wants that man down no matter what, because he saw Glenn and Abe being brutally killed in front of his eyes and his own family being tortured by this guy as well (plus the whole torture he suffered himself). He is in a very dark place indeed. And from his perspective (and of course, depending of what Richard tells him), it’s one person vs taking down the man who will kill many more people. That’s it. It’s worth it for him. Is it beautiful? No. Is it something admirable? Certainly no. There is something cruel about leading the saviors to a person who is innocent and had done absolutely nothing and watch this person being killed? For sure. There is absolutely no denying that this is a turning point for Daryl, or would be, in case he had followed with it.

But then he finds out the person he was going to kill, is not just a random person with no name, no face for him. Is actually the person he probably loves the most in this world they live in. Can you imagine exactly the realization that will fall upon him the moment he realizes what he was about to do? That he was about to kill Carol? I think this will have a huge impact on him, yeah. Because he will realizes exactly the consequences of his action. A random person might mean nothing to him, but it certainly does mean the world to someone else, and he will feel it, when he realizes what could have happened.

Now, from a writing perspective and viewer as well:

This, this is the sort of storyline I wanted to see for Daryl for so long. This is the sort of thing I wanted to see explored in his character. Daryl is not a super hero, Daryl is not perfect, Daryl is not this angel that came to earth to just ride his bike and use sleeveless shirts while showing his arms. That’s not the reason why many people loved Daryl, and in the wrong notion that this was what made him be who he is in terms of popularity, TPTB turned him in a shadow of himself. A character that had almost no connection to reality. By putting Daryl in situations where he beats up a man that was already in surrender, who was not a threat, by putting Daryl actually agreeing with this plan, agreeing with killing someone because in his mind is worth it, only for him to realize that person is Carol, you are actually showing a human side of this character that was absent since season 3.

We had glimpses here and there of great storylines we could explore, but the writers never went with it. And don’t get me wrong, I don’t think this arc will be groundbreaking or even well done enough in a way that Daryl deserves. Still, I love to see his character being discussed because of actions that bring certain questions and how far you are willing to go in a war, and what exactly are you willing to lose. And how the tables turn when it’s not a nameless face that it’s at risk, but instead a person you love.

Sometimes I think certain people wouldn’t survive a day watching shows like How To Get Away with Murder, where you start an episode loving Annalise, hating her in the middle and finishing it without knowing exactly if you agree with her or not lol.

seriously do not read the comments on shia labeouf’s facebook. I can’t even imagine how it would feel to read thousands upon thousands of truly brutal, hate-filled comments telling you that you’re a washed up has been, untalented, “piece of shit human being,” idiot, no one cares about you or takes you seriously, and that you should kill yourself. these people seriously want him dead, I swear. shia is clearly one of those tortured artist types who’s been going through heavy stuff and doing some soul searching for a while now. like, he admitted to having a legit existential crisis. of course, I don’t know him and people with talent or celebrity status shouldn’t be given special treatment when they do crappy things.. but…. as a fan, I just can’t give up on this guy for some reason. I just think he’s too talented and… special. (I can’t think of a better word) but, he’s just a rare kind of person & talent to me. and the fact that all these people are telling him to hang his life up basically, is pissing me off. if he goes and kills himself or something, or just ends up tragically dying soon somehow, GOD FORBID. (I hate to even say that but I just worry ok) it’s not gonna be funny.

I keep having flashbacks to amy winehouse. everyone was so mean to her while she was alive even though she was clearly in pain/struggling. people still say horrible things about her even in death and it makes me SO SAD. I’d like to think that shia is the kind of person who will try to rise above it.. but, when you have so many people telling you that you’re a joke and an embarrassment and straight up saying they used to like you but now they hate you and personally blame you for ruining movies all the time, etc …..that seems like an impossible climb :( like the stuff you’ve done is completely irreversible and there’s no way you can ever redeem yourself or earn people’s respect. so why bother?!

Just watch something like season 2 of project greenlight, for example. (It’s on youtube, he comes in at Ep. 5) It’s one of my favorite things he’s done. he’s just so special!!! it’s undeniable. once you see those glimmers of promise within him, you can’t help but root for him. I really do think he’s a good person who’s been through A LOT and has subsequently done some very unfortunate things and messed up his path in life. I just wish him well, honestly.

Leah Betrayed: After The Ceremony

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Part one of two for the final saga of Leah, the poor student kidnapped by her teacher and enslaved for future sale. Leah was fantastic, letting me write her fantasy and everyone should thank her.

More stories coming. Keep the ideas coming, and thanks again.

 

12 HOURS AFTER THE CEREMONY

Leah sleep was restless and unfulfilling. Her dreams were constantly plagued with images of slavery, and torture. She didn’t see the girl that had just left, she didn’t see Tomiko, she didn’t see pussy licker, she saw herself. She saw herself as a slave, not an unwilling slave being tortured, and beaten into submission. No her dreams were plagued where she was a slave and completely willing, completely obedient and submissive.

It was a never ending horror story looping through her subconscious mind. She would wake up pulled out of her sleep by the horror. She would be hyperventilating and breathing was made that much harder by the masks that she wore. Eventually sleep would come once again, and it would seem as if she was thrust right back into those horrifying dreams.

She was finally brought out of her sleep by the vicious stroke of the crop upon her ass. She screamed and set up, only to receive another set of flows across her bare ass, and she heard Samantha say, “you were warned slave.”

Two more blows came down across her ass, and somehow Leah was able to keep from screaming out in either anger, frustration, or beg for mercy.

Apparently this was satisfactory to Samantha who didn’t bring another blow.

Leah heard Samantha say, “very good slave, it took the others that I’ve trained much longer to realize what was required. You figured out very, very quickly. I knew you were a natural.”

That wasn’t what Leah wanted to hear, and she seethed underneath the mask she wore. Samantha didn’t seem to notice, however as she said, “all right slave, it’s now time to begin your training.”

With that, Leah felt the collar she wore being detached from the wall, but not before Samantha had locked cuffs around her wrists locking her arms behind her, and others cuffs around her ankles.

She was pulled to her feet by the collar and led, blindly, to her new destination.

Leah realized quickly, that if the only time she was going to be free from being locked to some stationary object was when she was blind handcuffed and wore leg irons, escape was going to be much, much more difficult.

Eventually they reach whatever destination they had and Samantha said, “stop here slave.”

Leah heard Samantha moving around for some time, then heard the door close. Finally, she felt Samantha zip open the eyeholes of her mask, and she tried to open her eyes.

The light was blinding however, and she closed her eyes as quickly she’d open them. She heard Samantha chuckled, “eyes sensitive to the light, aren’t they? Maybe next time it will be a little more obedient, and I’ll, perhaps, then let it sleep without the blinding mask,” after a pause she said, “Actually I can guarantee it will be more obedient in the future.”

Slowly, Leah opened her eyes and Samantha was standing right before her. Leah remembered the lessons from yesterday, and quickly lowered her gaze.

Samantha raised arm and Leah flinched slightly thinking she was about to be struck, but Samantha simply adjusted her hair and said, “good job slave, you remembered your lesson. However,” the riding crop tapped, her ass and Samantha said, “never flinch. A slave must never flinch, for the same reason it is not allowed to cry out when struck. To flinch, or to cry, is a sign of a slave looking for mercy. A slave is not entitled to mercy, a slave exists for the pleasure of its owner and the entertainment it’s pain brings.”

She grabbed Leah’s chin and forced her eyes to look at her as she said, “you are primarily three holes, and the biological necessity used to sustain them. The holes, are used for pleasure, the rest,” she grabbed Leah’s nipples, “is used for the entertainment value bringing it pain will give. That is all it is worth. That is all it will ever be worth. To try to interfere with either is a gross violation of its purpose, and will be severely punished.”

She tapped the crop against her own leg gently and said, “does this slave understand?”

Leah nodded, as Samantha smacked her ass and said, “when a slave is asked a direct question, whether gagged, or not she is expected to answer. The proper answer is, ‘yes mistress this slave understands.’”

She looked at Leah expectantly, and Leah was thinking, how am I supposed to know these rules if you don’t tell me? But instead she simply said, “yes mistress, this slave understands.”

Samantha smiled, and said, “very good slave, like I said, I knew you were a natural.”

Leah again seethed internally at that, she was not a natural, she was not going to be a slave. She was going to escape.

Samantha didn’t seem to notice Leah’s look of defiance, as she began to explain, “I want it to study this room carefully, as it will spend a lot of time here,” she waved her arm around the room, “I’ve perfected a form of automated training, it will allow me to help train it on the more mundane aspects of its new existence, I have a lot more important things to do with my life than waste it teaching you basics.”

Leah heard the unspoken message, she wasn’t even worth the time for Samantha train her personally. It was insulting even though it further demonstrated the fact that to Samantha, Leah really was just an animal, or maybe not even that, just the thing.

Samantha again either didn’t know, or didn’t care about the look in Leah’s face as she continued her explanation, “this slave will train two hours every day in the morning when it wakes up in position and rules. These are the fundamentals of its enslavement. The rules a slave must follow and how to display itself in a variety of pleasing ways. The computer will indicate different positions, that it is expected to duplicate. At the same time, it will quiz it verbally on the rules of slavery.”

Leah couldn’t help but look at her quizzically at Samantha said, “first thing we need to do is program the computer to the appropriate positions for your body.”

Samantha pulled out something and said, “this is a training belt, it will wear this anytime it isn’t specifically bound, it’s to help remind this slave not to do something stupid like try to attack me,” she wrapped a belt around Leah’s waist as she continued, “I’m not just bigger and stronger than it is,” she said condescendingly, as she locked the belt in place, “I also have a black belt in several martial arts, fighting me would not go well for this slave.”

She told Leah to spread her legs as she pulled the second half of the belt down between the cheeks of Leah’s ass and over her crotch.

Leah couldn’t help the blush that she felt spread as the woman worked on her crotch. Samantha obviously noticed and said, “Better get used to me touching it. I own this now, and can touch it in anyway, and whenever I choose.”

To punctuate this, she pulled the belt away and slipped her finger into Leah’s pussy. Leah gasped involuntarily at the intrusion, and received a slap to her tit for her trouble.

“Silence slave,” Samantha said harshly, “I thought it was learning, I guess I’ll have to punish it a bit more,” she shoved the plug of the belt back in place and continued to make adjustments to the belt, yanking more harshly now, due to Leah’s outburst.

Leah clamped her lips closed, not just because she wanted to beg not to be punished, but also because she still felt a near overwhelming need to scream at the older woman. She was so tempted to punch her right in the face, threat of martial arts knowledge or not.

Leah didn’t want to wear this belt, or these fucking cuffs. She didn’t want to be here, she didn’t want to be a fucking slave, she just wanted to go home!

Somehow, by sheer force of will, she controlled herself, just barely, as Samantha finished what she was doing.

Once she was finally satisfied, Samantha stood and stepped back and said, “now for a demonstration,” with that she pulled a small device from her pocket and hit a button and Leah felt a searing electrical shock right to her clit.

Leah went to her knees from the pain, and again couldn’t help but cry in pain, receiving another shock for the effort.

She took a few more before she was finally able to clamp her mouth shut enough to not cry from the sizzling pain.

Samantha smiled at last and said, “Again, good, it’s learning to deal with its punishment appropriately. I’m sure it will require much more pain and punishment to fully learn this lesson, but we have time.”

Leah almost glared at her but didn’t, instead remembering to keep her eyes down, not wanting anymore shocks.

Samantha smiled and said, “the belt has a battery in the plug and a receiver in the waist. I can shock it anytime I want, from anywhere, even if I’m not home.”

She gave the girl a few moments to consider that statement, and let the knowledge sink in that she wouldn’t even need to be home to punish her new slave severely.

After another moment of letting that sink in she said, “I figure the slave understands the belt fully,” Samantha asked cruelly and Leah responded, “Yes, mistress, this slave understands.”

It was muffled, due to the gag, but Samantha apparently understood and smiled, “Excellent slave,”

She then moved forward to remove the cuffs, and said, “the slave should also know that the belt has several settings above what it has just received and can work with a verbal command as well through the house’s wi-fi and voice pickups that are mounted throughout. I do so love technology.”

Leah just stared for a moment at that and nearly slumped, once again realizing how difficult escape was going to be.

Samantha didn’t know of the internal byplay going on in her slave’s head and didn’t care. Instead she simply handed her a series of 8 cuffs and said, “put these on the appropriate area slave, now.”

Leah took a moment to examine the cuffs and realized they were all labeled: left knee, right knee, right ankle, left ankle, right elbow, left elbow, right wrist, left wrist, waist, throat, forehead.

It took some fumbling, and a few smacks from the riding crop by Samantha, but eventually Leah had all the straps on and adjust properly. After that Samantha pressed a few buttons and the small door in the corner opened.

“Get in,” Samantha ordered simply.

Leah, once again, did as ordered and stepped in. When she did this, she saw that she was in a 6’ x 6’ room, the walls, ceiling, and floor covered in a strange grid pattern except for a proximally 7 feet off the ground and directly in front of her, was a small monitor screen.

After a moment, Samantha’s voice came through a speaker from somewhere and said, “okay slave, this should be simple even for an idiot,” her voice said condescendingly, “on the screen it’s going to be shown various positions, slave positions that it is required to learn, memorize, and duplicate perfectly. The computer will show the position, it will give 10 seconds to get into the position and then freeze. At which point it will measure that it is in the correct position based on the readings that we’re going to take now. Failure to be an appropriate position will constitute disobedience. Disobedience will be punished.”

Samantha paused for a few seconds, giving Leah a moment to think before continuing, “I’d ask if it understood, but whether it does or not doesn’t change the fact that were going to continue. Keep in mind slave that it will be punished if you are not in the appropriate position.”

To demonstrate this there was suddenly a searing shock that seared into her clit. Leah couldn’t help but scream at the pain, and was rewarded with another shock, this one obviously for making noise without permission.

Samantha said, “the slave is still disobedient when it comes to noise. It had better learn to stop doing that otherwise I will cut its vocal cords.”

Leah shuddered in shock at the threat, having no doubt in her mind Samantha with carrying out.

She didn’t have much time to think about that anymore as the screen came to life and flashed a position. The woman on the screen was on her knees, her legs spread wide, and her hands resting, palm up, on her thighs.

Leah instinctively recognized the inherent exposure of the position and shuddered at the idea of people seeing her displayed in such a manner.

Absently she wondered who the girl in the photo was, if she was a slave now too, and if so, how long she’d taken before she was broken enough to allow these photos to be taken of her?

Leah shook those thoughts from her head as she tried to get into position, but was slower than the 10 second timeframe and received another shock. This one wasn’t quite as strong as the one before, but is still stung.

“You need to be faster than that slave,” Samantha’s voice said, “we also need to make a few corrections. Open the legs wider, wider.”

Leah did as ordered, then Samantha’s voice said, “arch the back more, that’s it,” there was another positive voice said, “Raise the chin. More. That’s it. Now hold that position and do not move a millimeter or I will fry its clit.”

Leah sat there frozen, the seconds ticking away. She could feel her muscles already beginning to protest the odd position and was afraid she was actually going to move when finally Samantha’s voice said, “okay slave, that position has been programmed. I suggest it memorize this, because if it’s not in this exact position the next time it will be scored as a failure. Now let’s move on to the next one.”

Over the next hour and a half Leah was put into a total of 16 different positions. Each one in its own way humiliating, all of them would leave her fully exposed if done in front of other people, which she figured was the entire purpose. A way of both demonstrating Samantha’s dominance over her, but also a way of displaying what was essentially in Samantha’s mind the product to be sold.

Throughout the entire ordeal Leah constantly considered resisting, refusing to cooperate. Each time that thought even began to enter her head she remembered the electronic device strapped to her clit, and remembered the agonizing pain she could be subjected to.

It was frustrating, but she was determined not to let that frustration bring her down. She wasn’t going to let herself be defeated.

Samantha was obviously smart, and had done this before. But everybody made mistakes. Leah determined that rather than constantly offering up little resistances that would do nothing, but get her hurt, and sap her strength, she would wait. She would bide her time, she would cooperate as much as was necessary to prevent punishment, and wait for the moment when she could make her move.

Samantha was a human being, she wasn’t perfect. She’d make a mistake and that was when Leah would move. That was when Leah would strike. That was when she would make Samantha very, very sorry.

*****

12 DAYS AFTER THE CEREMONY

Today began just like every other day. The mind-numbingly repetitious training that was slowly driving Leah insane. Every morning, she woke and was forced to focus on the ridiculous position and rule training.

She’d misjudged her time the first day, trying to decide whether to put the training belt on. Trying to get over the fear of knowing what it could do to her, versus what would be done if she didn’t cooperate.

As such wasn’t in the training room at the specified time. That was when she learned that if she wasn’t in the room at precisely 5 after seven, the door locked and wouldn’t let her in. Two hours later, when her training was supposed to be over, Samantha realized that she hadn’t done it and she had beaten Leah’s ass viciously, after binding her to a frame for that purpose.

“This slave is expected to be in its training area at precisely 5 minutes after it wakes up,” Samantha seethed, “I will not accept a slave that is lazy. I will beat the laziness out of it first.”

The rest of the day had been spent in various forms of punishment for her failure in the morning. When Samantha had bound her so she could use a strap to whip Leah directly on the pussy, she was sure she was going to die.

Leah had gone to bed sore and completely demoralized, and had made an absolute promised herself that she wouldn’t let it happen again. The next morning, when the alarm went off, she scrambled from her cage, put the belt on as quickly as possible, and practically ran into the room to make sure that she was on time.

Samantha had been pleased that she had learned her lessons so quickly, and told Leah that she was very pleased that the slave was learning so well.

Leah had not taken it as a compliment.

With regards to the training itself, she’d at first tried to occupy her mind with something else, but she’d quickly learned that lack of focus caused her to make mistakes, and those mistakes were punished, severely.

So, she trained, focusing entirely on making sure she recited the rules perfectly and molded her body into the proper position, as required by the unforgiving computer. She could feel how she was being dehumanized, how she was being programed, and she hated it.

She needed no further evidence than two days ago, when, unexpected, Samantha had screamed, “Position two, Rule four.”

Immediately Leah had dropped to the correct position as she recited the rule perfectly.

Her face couldn’t hide the shame and humiliation even as Samantha had laughed in utter delight and complimented the slave on, “learning it’s lessons so quickly.”

After the morning training Samantha, would put her through various sexual training, teaching her specifically how to please a woman, telling her, frighteningly, that eventually she’d be trained to please men as well. Leah didn’t want to know how that training would work.

It was hard to tell time for Leah, since, when she was out of her room and in the dungeon, there was no clock, obviously, and no windows. That meant she had no idea about the passage of time and it sometimes felt like a day would never end.

But eventually it would and she’d be taken to the cage room, she’d be fed by the computer, then she’d crawl into her cage and wait for it to start all over again.

‘Hell, is repetition’, she had once read, and she was in hell.

The last couple of days one thing had changed and that was when Samantha was taking her to the cage room she was using a minimum amount of restraint to transport Leah. Usually just chains attached to the belt around her waist and attached to the manacles Samantha had locked around her wrists.

She didn’t even bother to attach a chain to her ankle manacles usually.

Today was no different, as Samantha attached the wrist chains she turned to access the computer that she used for Leah’s training and began typing. Leah knew this test, having been burned by it before, and knelt obediently next to her mistress, having learned in the last 12 days not to move unless told to.

Samantha started cussing in frustration and finally said, “slave, go to the cage room and wait for me, I will be there in a moment.”

Leah rose from her kneeling position and headed off obediently to the cage room, having already learned there was no point in resisting; and that’s when she saw it. 

Every day, Samantha had come in and made a point of slamming closed the door that led to the rest of the house. The door was obviously very heavy and had a key code pad next to it. It was surely locked and could only open with a code that of course, Leah didn’t have.

Today, however, Samantha had seemed distracted. Engaging in training then sometimes breaking off, leaving for some reason. She’d come back later somewhat focused but still not as strict, not as unforgiving as Leah was used to.

Apparently, something else is going on, and it all culminated in a dreadful mistake on Samantha’s part, the dungeon access door was open.

Leah took a step back and looked at Samantha once again. Her captor was still focused on the computer, trying to solve some problem. Leah realized that the bitch had finally made a fucking mistake.

Leah crept quietly, but quickly to the door. Once there, she pushed it ever so gently with her hand fear lancing through her body at the thought of what would happen if Samantha caught her.

Luckily the door didn’t make any sound as it opened and revealed a narrow staircase.

Leah looked once more over her shoulder, and then padded up the stairs as quickly as her feet would carry her. She was surprised at how much out of balance she felt as she climbed the stairs and she was using her arms to maintain her balance, or at least as much as she could with her wrists attached to her waist by 6 inches of chain.

That didn’t matter though because she had more than enough movement that she could turn a doorknob if he had to.

When she was at the top of the stairs she bolted the only direction available, which was down a long hallway. Once she reached the end of it she looked left and right and to the left she saw exactly what she was hoping to see, a door.

It looked like any other front door you would see in someone’s house, it was so normal that she was shocked, so much normalcy in what was anything but normal.

Not wanting to look this gift horse in the mouth Leah didn’t even look back as she made for the door as fast as her bare feet could carry her.

She was approximately 20 feet from the door when a strange computerized voice said, “unauthorized slave presence on upper level. Threat neutralization engaged.”

Leah had just enough time for a sinking feeling to enter her stomach when her entire body felt like a lightning bolt had hit it. She tried to jump up as she felt electricity coursing up through her bare feet, but her muscles had already locked.

With that muscle control lost she collapsed flat on her face like a statue, and when she did she felt the manacles around her wrists and ankles lock themselves to the floor. It took her a moment to realize the floor was not only electrified, but, apparently, magnetized as well.

Samantha obviously took her security very seriously.

Leah continued to try to struggle, to free her limbs, to escape but every time she moved she was hit with another shock of electricity. It didn’t take her long to realize that any movement would trigger the punishing shock, and, that the shocks were getting stronger.

It seemed even squirming earned her punishment, even when Samantha wasn’t present.

Finally, she stopped moving all together and just waited, the tears streaming down her face as she stared forlornly at the door. The door that led to freedom, that lead back to her life, that lead back to some form of sanity.

A door she would never travel through.

Leah heard the clicking of Samantha’s heels and she felt fear course through her body as Samantha’s voice said, “computer deenergize punishment, maintain restraint.”

Samantha came into view and said, “this slave is so fucking stupid.”

She knelt down next to Leah and seemed to actually smile in sadistic satisfaction, “did it really think I was that fucking careless,” she laughed, “I knew it had been thinking about this, somewhere in the back of its ignorant mind it still thinks it’s a person. That there is a chance to escape. I set this up to see if the slave would be stupid enough to try. I really thought that after everything that I have shown it, it would realize that there was no escape ever. I guess it needs another lesson. A very serious one.”

Leah was shuddering in abject terror at the thought of what she might have in mind. It was obvious now, it had all been a set up. Looking back, it had all been so obvious but she’d let herself be blinded by the temptation.

Now, she was going to pay the price.

Samantha wasted no time in locking chains on her ankles so there was no chance she’d be able to run. Leah was crying miserably, and, for a moment, even considered begging. She knew however that there would be no mercy with begging; in fact, it would just make things worse.

When she was sure of the restraints, Samantha released the magnetic locks and then dragged Leah to her feet by a chain wrapped around her neck and dragged her back down to the dungeon.

Once there, Samantha wasted no time in binding Leah even more severely than she had when she’d beaten her ass when this training nightmare had first begun. That fact wasn’t lost on Leah and it made her even more frightened, if that was possible.

Once Samantha was finished Leah was hanging off the ground, legs held wide by a spreader bar attached to her ankles, and nearly four feet in length. Her wrists were attached to a similar bar and hung from a different hook in the ceiling. Her arm and leg bars were close together but, with an additional strap around her waist, Leah was hanging with her legs spread wide, her ass and pussy fully exposed and her tits and back also accessible.

In this position, she realized, Samantha could literally torture any part of her with relatively easy access.

Once she was fully bound Samantha said, "I am going to hurt this pathetic piece of shit slave in ways it’s never imagined. I’m going to make it scream in agony and beg for mercy, even knowing that begging is just going to make it all so much worse.”

She picked up the dreaded sensory deprivation helmet, or something that looked like it, only worse and said, “This is going to be a learning experience that will finally drive home the simple fucking truth it needs to learn,” She smacked Leah’s exposed ass with her hand, “I’m not a fucking amateur I know what I’m doing and it is going to learn that now.”

With that she strapped on the helmet, plunging Leah into total darkness, deafness, and muteness.

This was a much severe disciplinary helmet that plugged Leah’s ears completely, had extra padding on the eyes making, sight even less likely than before, and the gag in her mouth tasted horrible as it was inflated.

Incredibly, Leah felt the entire helmet itself inflating and after a few short moments she was moaning in pain as it felt like her head was being crushed.

Once Samantha was done there Leah felt clamps applied to her labia, and used to pull her open, exposing her pussy completely to anything Samantha wanted to do to it. Leah shuddered at that as she knew some of what Samantha was capable of.

Then she felt something cold and creamy being spread over her labia, inside and out, and all around her clit hood and asshole. It felt like Samantha was spreading some kind of cream over her.

She didn’t know what it was for but she felt a sense of dread fill her.

Samantha was shoving dildos into Leah’s pussy and ass as the heat first began to build.

By the time the dildos were inserted and Samantha had finished pumping them up, Leah was squirming and starting to cry in agony at the heat and pain coming from her pussy and asshole.

Then, things got even worse when she felt something moist coming from both dildos and a few seconds later deep inside her pussy and ass started to heat up as well.

5 minutes later Leah felt as if everything, her asshole, inside her ass, her pussy, her pussy lips, and her clit had been lit on fire. She was sure it couldn’t be more agonizingly and painfully burning if she had been dipped into molten lead. Everything burned and it was sheer agony unlike anything she had ever felt in her entire life.

She fought, twisted, and bucked like a wild animal, using every bit of her strength, and even more, as pain and adrenaline fueled her. She was screaming constantly at the top of her lungs in utter agony.

As the seconds ticked by it just got worse and worse as it felt like her most intimate areas were literally being burned off her body.

Then, incredibly, Samantha found a way to ratchet up the agony and make things worse as Leah felt that damn leather strap as it was laying stripe after brutal stripe of searing pain across her pussy with one stroke, and then across her asshole with another.

At this point, truly coherent thought was impossible for Leah, but two thoughts did somehow find a way to sear themselves into her pain overloaded brain. The first was that escape truly was impossible and it was time to accept her place, the second, was that she truly was in hell.

*****

12 WEEKS AFTER THE CEREMONY

The slave formerly known as Leah woke with her 5 AM alarm. She quickly crawled out of her cage and prepare herself for her daily training. Taking a few moments between now and when the training would start to think back over what had happened these last few months.

Samantha had punished Leah brutally for her escape attempt. Samantha, or rather Mistress Samantha as she would always be in Leah’s mind now, had whipped her pussy, clit, and ass brutally for hours, pausing only occasionally to inflict some other abuse upon either her tits, her thighs, or some other part of her helplessly exposed body. Even the soles of her feet and the palms of her hands were not spared some form of abuse.

By the time, it was all over, there wasn’t one square inch of Leah’s body that was not, in some way marked by either welt, bruise, or chafing. Through it all had been the agonizing torture of the paste Samantha had used on her crotch.

Every half hour or so, as the burning sensation would begin to ease, Mistress Samantha would add another dose. This served to keep Leah in constant squirming agony and had her convinced, underneath her blinding hood, that her body was being ruined for life.

That thought carried with it multiple fears. Not just the prospect of being mutilated, but knowing full well that Samantha had her only for the purposes of selling her for profit. If Mistress Samantha punished her to the point where she was no longer worth selling, Leah shuddered as she could only imagine what her fate would be.

Leah shook off those thoughts and remembered the agonizing days and weeks that followed her escape attempt. Once Mistress Samantha had finally finished punishing her disobedient slave, Leah was introduced to new levels of degradation, pain, and humiliation. Samantha immediately fit her with a new belt, equipped with metal plugs that went deep into her ass and pussy. Her clit was pinched and surrounded by a metal ring also attached to the belt.

In addition, Mistress Samantha forced what she called “ballet boots” onto Leah’s feet, and showed how they locked in place. Leah couldn’t even stand in them at first and Mistress Samantha had taken great sadistic pleasure in laughing at that fact, and the way Leah was forced to crawl around on her hands and knees, like an animal.

Samantha explained, plainly, that the belt and shoed were specifically designed to punish her slave and to teach it a lesson it would never forget. In addition to that, she went the extra mile to fit Leah with a catheter. This, along with the inflatable aspect of the ass plug meant that even her ability to go to the bathroom was now controlled solely by her mistress.

The first night was the worst. Rather than deny her food and water as might be expected as a form of punishment Samantha went the other direction. Leah received extra rations of both. Having already learned that not eating and drinking every bit of her food would lead to further punishment Leah had had no choice but to do so. That however left her distinctly uncomfortable, bordering on painful cramps when she finally went to the sleep, because a Samantha had not removed her plugs to allow her to go to the bathroom.

By the morning, Leah was in constant agony as her need to piss and shit was nearly overwhelming and her calves were screaming at their inability to relax from their flexed position. She was still required to perform her two hours of position and rule training, plus an additional two hours Mistress Samantha said would be her continuing punishment for her defiance.

It was at this point that Leah learned other aspects of the new belt she was required to wear. Every mistake she made either in position or rule resulted in a viciously shock, not just her clit or pussy, but her ass as well and the shocks were much more severe than they had been before.

Unfortunately for her, in her condition of concentrating more on the fact that she needed to go to the bathroom Leah made nearly constant mistakes and because of the boots she couldn’t do any of the standing positions at all.

After the four hours, she was a crying mess that would’ve literally done anything, literally anything, to use the bathroom and get the boots off.

Eventually Mistress Samantha came in and allowed her to use the bathroom but told her the boots would remain, telling her, "this slave will learn that it’s mistress controls every aspect of its life, from its ability to go to the bathroom, to its ability to even stand.”

Leah desperately wanted to tell her that she understood, between the punishment, the torture the day before and now this she was ready to do what she was told.

Unfortunately for Leah, Samantha did not afford her the opportunity to do so.

Once Leah had relieved herself, and crawled to the dungeon as a most contrite slave, Samantha had explained some of what had been done last night, specifically the paste that had been used. She explained to Leah that it was a concoction of something called capsaicin, the active ingredient used in pepper spray, and what makes hot foods, such as jalapenos, hot.

Samantha went on to explain that in it’s pure form, the substance scored on the scale that is used to measure such things at nearly 16 million. To give Leah perspective, Samantha explained that police grade pepper spray scored it at approximately 2 ½ to 5 million. Samantha took great delight in telling Leah the paste that she had used scored at about 1 million on this scale.

The next time she felt Leah and needed a firm lesson in obedience she would double its intensity and the timeframe when she used it on her. Leah was absolutely certain that if she had not just used the bathroom she would’ve pressed herself right then.

From that moment on any of Leah’s active resistance had effectively been destroyed. Not only was she in a situation where any escape attempt was doomed to fail, but Mistress Samantha had proven she was capable of inflicting horrific pain and not leave a mark on her. She could, theoretically at least, torture Leah like that every single day and still sell her with a, more or less, pristine physical appearance.

Mistress Samantha was specific in explaining that to her slave in very precise, and extremely graphic detail.

Samantha had studied the newly broken look as she stared into her slave’s eyes. While she liked what she saw, she knew the slave’s will, while having taken a serious beating, was nowhere near broken yet. There was no doubt about that, and more lessons would be needed, although surely not nearly as brutal as this had been. Just the future threat of the hot torture would be more than enough, likely, to change any slight attitude Samantha might get.

If necessary, she could always hit her with it again. It was a very effective way to get through to a slave just how worthless, and helpless they truly were.

From that point, Samantha stepped up the training the adding extra hours to the, morning training Leah was required to do, taking two hours of sleep away from her, daily. Also, the slightest hesitation or improper positioning or mistake in the rule was punished much more severely than before. Again, explained as no longer giving the slave any breaks. In reality, the punishment would have increased anyway, but now, Leah would blame it on her own failure. Another chink in her mental armor that could be exploited.

The probes were now permanent, removed only once in the morning and once in the evening so Leah could relieve and clean herself. It was an effective means for sending random punishments to the slave, making her acutely aware that her mistress always had her under control, even when she wasn’t in the same room.

The boots were also removed once a day, to make Leah clean her feet, and put powder on them to help keep down odor, and prevent bacteria growth.

The first time she was made to put the boots back on after cleaning she couldn’t help but cry like a child. She wanted to beg not to be forced to put them back on, her feet hurt so much. Mistress Samantha simply shocked her on her clit and waited for her to comply.

Putting those boots back on, and lacing them up tightly before Mistress Samantha locked them back in place felt like one of the hardest things Leah had ever done, and the most defeating.

After six weeks of training Samantha was certain that it would be impossible for Leah to stage another escape, even if the opportunity presented itself with a near guarantee of success. For six weeks, she had been repeatedly punished and brutalized for the first escape attempt, now Leah’s psyche and will would never allow her to try such a rebellion once again.

Since she’d achieved that, Samantha moved on to the next stage of Leah’s training in full. The art of being sexually pleasing and, of course, she would start with the woman.

For the next month and a half, every day of Leah’s training now included an hour of learning how to please her Mistress by licking her pussy, ass, and tits. Leah proved to be a quick and able student on this issue, either because it was something she’d already enjoyed, or the use of the crop whenever she failed to please Samantha in the way she wanted. Samantha didn’t care which one it was, as long as the ultimate goal was accomplished; another level of debasement to hammer home the fact of what the slave had become.

Leah entered the training room and began her four hours of training. She performed almost flawlessly, as the computer had never, yet, given her a perfect score, but she only received 10 shocks in the four hours that she trained today, a new record.

When she had finished her training, she quickly ate what the computer had put into her bowl, and then waited obediently at the door for her mistress to open it so she could move on to the rest of the days training.

Which consisted of sex training, quizzes on position and rules, and basically explaining to her repeatedly how she was nothing but what Mistress Samantha wanted her to be, and nothing else.

Deep inside, Leah was disgusted with herself at her eagerness at the appearance of her Mistress. She actually felt herself moisten at the prospects of being allowed to please her Mistress.

Leah wondered what was happening to herself, at the same time understanding all too well what it was.

She had not enjoyed her psych class but she had done well enough, and remembered enough to realize that the repetitive actions, the constant demoralization, the punishments for the slightest infraction, all programming her psyche into exactly what Samantha had said she would be. It was a classic form of what was commonly called brainwashing.

Even understanding what was happening, however, and knowing what was being done, had proved to be no defense at all against her unwilling reprogramming. In fact, all it seemed to do was always seemed to do was add a new level to her humiliation. She was an intelligent woman, understood exactly what was happening, and yet was still too weak and, some corner of her mind snidely insulted, pathetic, to stop it.

Leah shied away from these thoughts, but she had noticed they were becoming more frequent, and, more horrific, louder. Some part of her mind almost seemed to be working against her, decrying her sad efforts to resist and promising things would get better if she just let herself go.

It was even telling her to just let her name go, after all, as Mistress Samantha had already explained, ‘Leah’ didn’t exist anymore. So there was no point in remembering the name.

Leah wasn’t ready to listen to that part, she thought angrily. She would not give in.

Sadly, even in that conviction she heard a single word echo from even deeper in her bruised psyche, ‘yet.’

She blocked out all thought at that point as she heard her Mistress approaching.

Samantha opened the door and found the slave in the exact position she was expected to be. If she were willing to give compliments, she would note that the position was absolutely flawless. Her arms, her knees, even her chin and eyes were all perfectly positioned. Of course, instead of doing so, she sent a mild shock into its pussy and told her, “I expect your back to be straighter slave.”

Of course, there was no way that her back it could be straighter, but it allowed her an excuse to punish the girl yet again, but smiled as the girl seemed to try to straighten even more.

She studied the girl for a second, and handed her the chains that connected her wrist and ankle cuffs that she was now required to wear anytime she was not in her cage room. The punishment for her previous escape attempt.

Samantha led her slave out, and over to a piece of equipment that she had not used before. Leah felt an immediate sense of trepidation, even as the newer part of her mind seemed excited at something new with her Mistress. Again, she tried to crush that down as she remembered that, in her experience, anything new wasn’t going to be good for her.

She told Leah to bend over after climbing up onto it and Samantha began the process of securing Leah to the device. When she was done, she was basically in a hands and knees position, bent over. Her arms weren’t quite even with her knees, but instead were slightly higher.

Her legs were spread wide as straps secured them at calf and ankle. Samantha finished the bondage, by locking a strap around her waist, and then locking her wrists into place.

Samantha said, “I know you’re expecting sex training again today slave, and that will be happening, although not as it has in the past.”

Leah would have looked at her Mistress in confusion if she could have. Samantha seemed to knows this and bent down so she could look at her slave’s face as she said, “it has done a fairly good job of learning to please me.” Samantha noted pride and hidden anger and revulsion warring on the girl’s face. It was humorous to watch her still fighting what was happening to her, knowing how disgusted she must be with herself that she’d feel any pride in what she was being forced to do.

Once again Samantha was reminded of how the final surrender of this one was going to be one worth celebrating, she’d chosen well.

She mentally shook herself from those arousing thoughts and instead said, “but now it’s time for it to learn other aspects of sex training,” strapping a ring gag into her slave’s mouth as she did.

Leah tried to open her mouth enough to get the gag out but couldn’t, then she glanced to her right as Mistress Samantha went to the door of the dungeon.

With that, Samantha left the slave sitting there and went to the door of the dungeon, opening it wide and stepping aside.

Leah watched her Mistress open the door and the fears that had been boiling inside Leah’s mind came to fruition as three large men walked into the room.

All three men were dressed only in shorts and T-shirts, and greeted mistress Samantha pleasantly. Samantha said, “gentlemen, I appreciate you answering my ad, and agreeing to come here.”

One of the men said, “of course Mistress Samantha, we know will your reputation, and were eager to help.”

Another one said, “the price was too good to resist. And now that I see what I’ve paid for, I would’ve paid twice as much, easily.”

The third man nodded his agreement and said, “I would have as well.”

Leah was in utter shock, she had known, intellectually, that Mistress Samantha sold her slaves to men as well as women. That would of course mean that the slaves would be used by men, would be raped by men. Somehow, however her mind had rejected what that naturally led to, and had basically not allowed herself to consider that it would happen to her. She never thought that Samantha would bring men here. Not here. Not for this.

Leah’s stared in shock as the men and Samantha continued to talk about her assets, and her body. Samantha pointing out different aspects about her, different areas where she was most sensitive, or the way to cause her the most discomfort and pain, without doing any damage.

Finally, Samantha said, “the next two hours it is yours, gentlemen. I ask only the you do not do anything permanent to it, other than that, punish it however you see fit to get the desired performance that is require.”

Samantha looked at Leah and said, “well slave, I hope it is as good at pleasing cock as it is cunt or its going to be a very sore indeed. If I don’t receive a satisfactory report from these men, it will be very sorry.”

With that Samantha turned and stalked out of the room and left her slave to the mercies of the three men.

Unfortunately for Leah, as she struggled against the bonds, despite knowing she’d be punished, she suspected that these men did not possess a single shred of it.

She learned how right she was when the first of them, without preamble, walked up and stuffed his cock down her throat as he began applying a whip to her ass and said simply, “suck, slave.”

Human Again;Sherlock x Reader

Requested by two lovely Anons: 

-y/n is johns daughter, and she begins to learn from deduction and stuff from Sherlock. she gets pretty good at it and actually helps out with their cases, until it puts her I danger.

-Hi! This is my first time requesting/messaging anyone! I think that you are such an amazing writer, and whenever you have the time could you please write a Sherlock x reader one-shot where after a year of the reader being missing Sherlock finally finds her. She had been kidnap by Moriarty and for that year Moriarty would beat and torture her and now she as a form of PTSD, one night she has a particularly bad nightmare and when she wakes up sobbing Sherlock holds her and they get it on? Thank you

Changed each of the requests slightly, but this should all work out in the end

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anonymous asked:

i seem to recall you enjoying talk about how palps fucked with vader's suit to ensure maximum pain. you should watch redlettermedia's top 10 things you didnt know about darth vaders suit. it's hysterical.

WEAK they haven’t even touched on the disgusting vader ecosystem, how unfortunate. it gets lonely being, like, one of three heathens. 

i still stand by the fact that the suit is masterful in its purpose both as a torture object and a weapon of intimidation, and i think that might be my favorite of sheev’s evil plans. it’s just so well executed. good job, my guy. i can rest assured that this evil villain worked for his place in the tower of evil villainy 

I am seriously wondering why D&D went through so much trouble to give Sansa Arya’s storyline and basically make it fanfiction and have it make no sense whatsoever. Seriously I’m wondering why.

It started when Sansa took the place of Jeyne Poole marrying Ramsay (and also being tortured way less). And right here it already doesn’t make sense. Sansa is still married to Tyrion, this marriage can only end if it’s revoked and also if one of them dies leaving the other a widow. Or (again) if it is revoked by the high septon. Which it hasn’t been because they were accused with kingslaying (false accusation though). But because of that they can’t go to the high septon without being arrested. So D&D go ahead with it anyway because Sansa should suffer some more so that when she wants to become queen (again, just like when she was little, only now she wants to rule the North instead of all of Westeros) she is empowered and people are happily rooting for the pretty girl with the even sadder backstory getting what she wanted when she was a whiney brat. But at least now she is doing it to get back at her rapist (who wasn’t even supposed to be her rapist like I said) and everyone that did her wrong, and to regain the Northern roots she never cared to have until the south decided to completely turn on her.

D&D can’t seem to allow any female “winners” without them being pretty and sassy, what is the problem with giving at least one female that isn’t a supermodel, that always know just what snarky thing to say, an interesting story (like in asoiaf). Just like when they replaced boring, not gorgeous looking Jeyne Westerling with fierce, pretty Talica and made Robb look like a douche in the process (but that’s another rant that someone else already perfectly explained). And now replaced Jeyne Poole (fake Arya) with sassy Sansa. So apparantly Northern looking Arya isn’t pretty enough to be interesting.

So then Theon saves Sansa instead of some nobody which actually was supposed to be his redemption. Then Sansa goes to find Jon and finds him on her first try with hardly anything stopping her. On the way she picks up a nice crew (Brienne and Pod) they pledge their loyalty and service, and she finds Jon,  they reunite and she decides to take back Winterfell while reminding Jon that she can do it alone and that she has the Stark name while he doesn’t… uh no? You actually don’t have the Stark name. You’re either a Lannister or a Bolton. And Robb disinherited you as well which will definitely keep you from ever being queen in the North if anybody finds out. In that same will he also declared Jon his heir. And considering you don’t have an army and will have trouble finding one now, you really can’t do it alone.

Also, why lie to Jon (about Littlefinger)? He’s already helping you with his wildling army (how does it feel to be the one with less power?). Keeping him in the dark about this type of stuff is how you make yourself untrustworthy again. Sure you apologized for torturing him all those years (which is basically nothing in comparison, but whatever he accepted), but this isn’t really a great start to working together. I feel like this might come back to bite her in the ass later. Or if they continue with this fanfiction it will just help her in getting everything she wants.

And out of everyone Sansa is the least likely to be getting any support from the North. She looks Southern, she acts Southern, she basically betrayed Ned for as far as they know, she has been disinherited by Robb, she always pissed on Jon and Arya who actually did look and act Northern, and she basically didn’t give a shit about the North until the South rejected her, and now all of a sudden the North decides it is independent and wants it’s own rulers, and tada Sansa’s childhood dream can become a reality for her, and she is a Northern warrior queen with more strength than you’ve ever seen.


On an end note: some things I said about what Sansa’s motivations are or stuff like that are obviously not the entire reason or hardly a reason at all and just sarcastic. But I was ranting so I’m obviously not going to be politically correct about everything. However I still believe that some of the sarcastic reasons I mentioned played some part in her thinking process.

Also there is more stuff but I feel like these are the most fundamental things that D&D messed up just to help Sansa. And I just don’t get why. They made Robb look like douchebag (it actually started with the Jeyne Westerling-Talisa switch-up  but that was not so directly related to Sansa as it was to the parallel with Theon saving Jeyne Poole, but still Robb looking like an idiot for marrying this hot chick he’d seen, Talisa, instead of the Frey girl also had to do with Sansa’s changed storyline), they took Theon’s surprising redemption and turned it into one that you’d expect and could see coming, and they gave Arya this dragged out boring storyline in Braavos. Why? So that they can all serve their Northern queen? Anyway if I list all the things that D&D did to boost Sansa’s personality and her entire storyline I wouldn’t be done tomorrow.

One of Them (Voltron: Legendary Defender)

Based on this post by @littleconan . Give all due credit to the original artist, please!

One of Them

Keith holds his breath.

He shouldn’t. He shouldn’t, because he knows that nothing good ever comes from expecting things to go well. Especially when something as complex and easily-broken as a relationship is on the line. Especially when the thing he hopes others will accept is so abhorrent that even he has a hard time accepting it sometimes. Especially since he’s spent the past ten years bracing himself for the worst whenever someone finds out, and he’s never been wrong.

Especially when the one who discovers him this time has spent twelve long months being tortured by the species he doesn’t want to call his own.

But something has told him that maybe, just maybe, this time could be different. He trusts them. They’re his friends. And, despite that, when they find out, he runs.

He should have stayed. Then, maybe, he could have calmly explained what had happened and why he hadn’t told them. Then, maybe, they would be more likely to realize that he isn’t some Galra spy. Then, maybe, his normal self would shine through, past the purple skin and furred ears and yellow eyes, and they would know that it’s Keith.

Then, maybe, he wouldn’t have ended up here, arms wrapped protectively around his middle as he glares across the room, anticipating judgment from the one person he fears can end his life without breaking a sweat.

Keep reading

Elfen Lied

they’ll tell you that it’s an ecchi guro yandere bait. boobs, bloodbaths, 2edgy4u killer girls.

they’re wrong.

the government genetically engineers little girls to be superweapons via a process involving torture, isolation, sensory deprivation, complete and utter dehumanization. most of them died. the rest of them should have… the Diclonius.

one was left for dead as a baby and taken in by an orphanage. her name was Lucy. perhaps she would have lead a normal life but a side affect of the genetic mutation- two horns sprouting from the head- lead to a lifetime of a different type of incessant unending torment; bullying, social ostracisation for being different from her guardians and her peers, simply for being different.

her only friend throughout her childhood was a dog, a puppy who lived in the woods near the orphanage, who loved her because she brought him food and gave him care, attention, love. the other children found the puppy and forced her to watch them beat it to death. the other main side affect from the mutation, an infection who took on its own personality, Kaede, murdered the children in vengeance before crawling back into its shell, leaving Lucy alone again.

Lucy- Kaede- killed to survive. Lucy was hungry? Kill and steal food. Lucy was cold? Kill and steal blankets and clothes. Lucy was alone? Kaede was there. They didn’t know any better; their only interactions with humans, with Them, the Hornless Ones, were that they were all evil, vicious monsters who didn’t care about anyone but themselves and did not deserve to live… until Lucy met Kouta.

Kouta didn’t care that Lucy looked a little bit different from everybody else. He saw a lonely, frightened little girl, and extended his hand in friendship. She took it… and she fell in love with him. Not a perverse, sexual love, nor a typical schoolgirl crush. This human, this Hornless One, this… boy… cared about her like it was nothing in the world to him. She wanted to stay with him forever, to spend her life in his company, to always know this feeling of pure, innocent love… but like all good things, it couldn’t last forever.

He had to leave, to go home. He swore that they would see each other one more time. But Lucy became acquainted with a new feeling, one she didn’t know how to deal with, how to process, so she let Kaede handle it. Lucy learned of jealousy and of the fear of loss- not of meager, earthly possessions- but of a friend. She saw him with his cousin Yuka, his family- and Kaede snapped. Kaede took Lucy by the hand and shrouded her in false promises and deceit; Kaede would take care of everything. Kaede would make sure that nobody in the world would take Lucy’s Kouta away from her. Kaede loved Lucy, in a bizarre, sick, twisted sense of the word, but everything Kaede did it did for what it felt was Lucy’s benefit, as the infection does for any Diclonius. Kaede killed, and killed, and killed… and killed.

Kaede came to the train Kouta was returning home on. He was there with his father and his sister, and they were alone but for Kaede. Kouta and his sister quarreled, they fought as siblings often do, but things escalated. Kouta told his sister he hated her… so Kaede killed her. And then Kaede killed his father. And then Kaede let Lucy back in. Kouta couldn’t have truly cared about Lucy, he clearly cared about his family, but even then he didn’t care about them, for why else would he tell his sister he hated her? Surely an act of cruelty could only come from a human who was cruel, as Humans are wont to do… but Lucy spared Kouta’s life out of the love she had for him, and she left.

The government tracked her down. They locked her away. Stripped her, beat her, starved her, shot her with cannonballs, broke her bones, electrocuted her, poisoned her, stabbed her, trained her to become the ultimate heartless soulless killing machine. And it worked. Lucy gave up all control to Kaede… and it waited. Naked, afraid, restrained and helpless, Kaede waited and waited, for six long, painful, grueling years it waited, until the opportunity came to escape.

They made a mistake, and containment was breached. Hundreds of soldiers were dispatched, and hundreds of soldiers were dismembered, mutilated, crushed, eviscerated. Murdered by Kaede. She killed everyone but one man, the man in charge of the project… and she almost escaped, but for one spanner in the works put in place by Kaede: a sniper rifle bullet to the head. Kaede, Lucy, fell off a cliff and into the water.

Six years after his family died in a… train accident… Kouta, now living with his cousin Yuka, finds a strangely familiar unconscious (and nude) girl washed up on the beach. She cannot communicate but for one word: Nyu. The mind of a child, the body of an adult. She can’t survive alone, so Kouta and Yuma care for her. But if Nyu is struck on the head, her buried personality comes crawling back to the surface: Nyu is Lucy, and Lucy has let herself become Kaede.

Lucy is a victim of the environment she was raised in, of the experiments done on her mother while she was in utero, of a society that adamantly refuses to collectively pull its head out its own ass just far enough to accept even the slightest physical difference from that of the majority. She’s not a fucking lovesick yandere. She’s a mentally ill abuse victim who did not receive the love and care that any person or being of living consciousness anywhere in the world needs to survive and thrive in this world. Lucy is not an anti-hero. She is not a hero. She is a scared little girl who was forced to grow up way too fast.

Yes, there is nudity. Classical art pieces in the opening screen depicting themes of innocence and purity. Bloody, intense torture scenes. And a bath house scene, which being Japan, a culture different from white Euro-merica, is contextually not sexual. Melancholic. Bittersweet. Sadness porn. There is no sexy fanservice. There are young girls who behave as young girls typically do, which western audiences may dub as Moe, which can be considered fanservice (albeit a non sexualized version) among certain circles, but this is no ecchi anime. There is no sexual content. There is a character in the manga with bladder problems that is… probably fetishistic in the proper lenses, but this passage is about the animation. There is blood and gore, and lots of it, but no more than is enough for simple shock value, representation of events that occur, and artistic contrast… and anatomical correctness. It’s on the borderline of gore porn but it is not trying to be exclusively gore porn.

It’s not an ecchi anime, it’s not a guro anime, and for God’s sake, it’s not a goddamn fountain of Deviantart, Hot Topic, Black Veil Brides lyrics, Anime Music Videos, Liquid Eyeliner, Sexy Pink Wigs, Invader Zim Merchandise, Self Diagnosed Asperger’s, Horrorcore Shit, and Weeaboo Bait. Treating it as such ignores the central themes of the author’s original intent. It’s a feels trip, not an Emo Carousel of Garbage Tier Anime Tropes.

-steps off of soapbox-

Insecurities in Friendship

I’ll walk willingly into the abyss,

If that’s what it takes to get away from this.

This brutal torture of uncertainty,

Of wondering if you really care about me.

Trying to sleep, but awake for hours,

Insecurity taller than the tallest towers.

I overanalyze everything, my biggest flaw,

As well as being annoying, ugly and a bore.

It seem illogical that anyone would bother,

But you held my hand and treated me like a brother.

And, despite the cruel voices in my head,

The ones that call me ugly and say I should be dead,

I want to be believe that you care about me

As much as I care about you, honestly.

I wish insecurity could be wished away.

Forgive me if I sound a little cliché,

But you’re the best thing that’s happened to me.

For @ssihimu and @xfanboy789x

oathgrowth  asked:

there should be a discourse bot. not one that auto-generates discourse. just one we mainly send discourse to. like how you're the shitpost bot because everyone shitposts to you. discourse bot. it would be nice to see what horrible, tortured, conflicted "personality" it would develop with all the collective sins of tumblr being sent to it. (not saying the social justice movement is bad btw just that a being entirely devoted to it with a tumblr slant would be very, very unwell)

Crazy noisy bizarre town.

wolf-queen  asked:

😉 What are my muse’s fetishes/kinks?

“Miss Wolf lady is a pervert.. Wanting to know about the doll’s playtime. Tsk tsk. Very well minty lady.. There’s the being covered in victims blood that really gets me going.. I am pretty sure Zia likes it to because normally after eating he wants to play.. Then there is the knife play.. Zia’s aggressive nature.. Tell him your going to take me away from him and watch what happens. I should feel bad for torturing him but I don’t.. There’s a few more things but I shared the more important ones. Ya pervert.”

@wolf-queen / @ziasilverstar

gotham-quinntet  asked:

I'm not fighting with you about a fictional character. I'm just saying calling someone a psychopath isn't cute. Obliviously you're too immature to understand that. It also looks like you just want attention by saying "looks like I got into a fight on my 2nd blog 😂" I'm not wasting my time with something so dumb. Also you should go outside for once and get some air.

I never once said being a psychopath is cute. That’s what he his if you haven’t noticed by the countless people he’s presumably killed/tortured. Obviously you’re to immature because you’ve continued arguing over this. Almost 40 people have both liked and reblogged the original post, so as you can see, other people are enjoying it without any hate. I certainly don’t need or want attention drawn to myself, but if it’s a hilarious situation as this one, then I’d be happy to share it so other people can get a laugh as well. If you dislike my content that’s fine, not everyone will like what I make. I hope you have a good day, and get out and enjoy the weather as well. ~Emily

You know what’s actually so nice and cool and doesn’t get talked about enough:

Killian Jones is disabled - the guy only has one hand. But, instead of it being a disadvantage, he uses it as a HUGE advantage. It’s his trademark, his signature, an integral part of him - and a lot of people fear what it represents. He’s never been looked down on, he’s never been pitied, no one has ever looked at him and said, maybe you should stay back… You know… Cause of the hand.

And how great that the woman he loves, Emma Swan, finds so much comfort in that hook. That when she was weak and tired in Camelot, she held onto it for dear life. That when Hades was torturing him, the villain used it as a way to play mind games with Emma, knowing how much it meant to her. That it pictures from 4x12, Emma is holding onto the hook just like she would hold onto his hand. Emma doesn’t see it as a shortcoming, she sees it as an extension of Killian, and loves it like she loves him.

I guess I just love how much of a non-factor the hook is. People don’t give it any extra attention (except when Killian uses it to hurt others) and don’t treat him differently because he’s extra special.

Drown
jikook
1,476 words
mentions of abuse, character death

Inspired by this post and written for jamkook because she’s jikook trash and I love her


Humans always say mermaids have the sweetest of voices, that they are owners of the most enticing of music but Jimin begs to differ. The most beautiful voice is on land and he knows this because hiding among the numerous voices of his fellow kinsmen there is one that catches his attention, that filters into his ears and enchants him to the point that he follows the sound, swims all the way to the shores that the elders always say they should avoid.

Keep reading

Considering the fact that FromSoftware keeps dropping references to Berserk in their games, be it items like the Dragon Bone Smasher from Demon’s Souls being described as ‘much too heavy to be called a sword’ to creatures resembling demons and monsters from the series(case in point, the baby Great Ones from Bloodborne resembling the baby Casca produced post-Eclipse Arc or the Messengers resembling the demons that came for Griffith after he was tortured), I think that Miyazaki should seek out Miura for the license and make a Berserk game already. Not sure how they’d go about doing it, but I’m willing to bet that not only will it satisfy the Berserk fans, it’ll also attract fans of the Souls series who weren’t already into Berserk and encourage them to get into it.

Can we just #Save all six girls at this point?

Alison is being tortured in more ways than one, scrambling to figure out what’s real and what’s in her imagination.

Hanna is trying to grasp onto any last shred of her A-free past from those five years.

Emily is practically breaking down because she’s so desperate to protect Alison and, basically, she should be desperate to do so.

Spencer doesn’t deserve any of the emotional/relationship shit she’s dealing with and needs a fucking hug already. 

Aria is finally understanding that she’s human, has made mistakes, and, honestly, she just needs protection.

Mona is being ignored and casted aside once again. Truly, she was a shitty person in the past but, much like Alison, the other girls need to forgive Mona already, damn.

How Would the Companions React to Sole Being Tortured, Knowing they are Next?

Ok, this is a really angsty, drama laden and quite graphic react, so putting it under a read more with a few warnings: Rape, Torture, and Graphic Violence.

Reader discretion is advised. I mean it IS fallout, but I figured rape should be a big warning.

Keep reading

Black Eyed Angel // my-malleable-muse

@my-malleable-muse

(*)

It wasn’t that Frank was proud of being a demon. In all reality, he knew he should be ashamed of what he was. But he wasn’t ashamed, nor was he proud. He just deemed his new self as useful and went about causing some controlled chaos among those who deserved punishment.

Bo one was too big or little. If they held true hatred or evil within themselves, then they needed eliminating and Frank was more than willing to do the job. CEO of a big chain condones the torture of children who aren’t straight? Dead. High school teacher who’s a secret member of the KKK and trying to subconsciously spread his racism through his students? Dead. Neighborhood nice lady planning to kidnap and murder someone? Dead. Dead, dead, dead, and Frank made sure they suffered too. It was only fair.

Right now he was within a quaint little town, following the thick stench of a pedophile nearby. The bastard was planning his very first victim, was almost salivating at the thought of harming one of the children that played on the playground frequently, and Frank was almost salivating about tearing the asshole limb from limb. Rare that he could kill a pedophile before they could get their hands on a child for the first time, but the demon knew how to savor it.

Nearing the end of the trail, he found it led to a church. Curious, he went inside and sat himself at the very back as the sermon was about to begin. Don’t let anyone say he was a rude demon in the supposed “House of God”.