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#PSYCHOLOGICAL TORMENT!!!!!!!!!

arowrath · 1 month

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u know when u get a word/phrase stuck in ur head and it just repeats over and over and over again and rhere is nothing u can do about it

i have heard this phrase in my brain hundreds of times today. Psychological torment

#text #PSYCHOLOGICAL TORMENT!!!!!!!!!

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prefer-to-be-vilified · 1 year

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Enid: Wednesday if I died would you get a new girlfriend?

Wednesday: If you died I’d immediately kill myself.

Enid:

Enid: Actually?

Wednesday: I wouldn’t even double check. You could have just been taking a very deep nap. Only to wake up to my bloody festering corpse staring right at you. The gory image of my devotion forever immortalised in your mind, haunting you for the rest of your days.

Enid:

Wednesday:

#wednesday psychologically tormenting her girlfriend: I’m getting really good at this whole romance thing #wednesday #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #wenclair #enid x wednesday #wednesday netflix #wednesday 2022 #incorrect wednesday quotes #incorrect wednesday addams #incorrect wednesday #incorrect wenclair #ptbv

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cringefailvox · 3 months

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alastor being cagey/skittish about his deal around others + freaking out about it alone

#i love my men psychologically tormented and mentally unstable #i need to know more about him so fucking bad #alastor #zestial #husker #hazbin hotel

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tarantulasnot · 4 months

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Okay fine I'm a stalker

Like bad.

But whatever a girl can dream.

Sub! Leon Kennedy x Fem! Stalker! Reader smut lolzzz

Dark content! Stalking, exhibitionism, voyeurism, elements of stockholm syndrome, Leon doesn't ask for help cause he's Mr. Independent so his brain messes with him, reader does come in, Ada mentioned if you squint your eyes like 9999.99999%, Leon just doesn't know wtf too do with himself, my crk account got lost so now I'm torturing Leon

©©©

He was a trained military officer, he had survived countless injuries and perilous situations both willing and unwillingly. Of course he knew there was someone there, at all times.

He went to the store? There was someone there, watching him as he made his purchases. Were you that interested in what he was eating for dinner?

Even when he was eating it, he felt it from somewhere outside of his dining room window. It inspired him to stand up and close the blinds, however it was too late and his appetite was ruined.

Over time he felt it more and more as that strange presence seemed to adjust to his schedule, one he wasn't fully aware he had. Like how he always took the same roads to go to his part-time job, never taking a single detour. Or how he stopped at the same gas station every day to get one of three drinks, always settling on the same one every Wednesday. This was something he didn't notice until you made him notice.

Then you started hitting a little too close to home. Or rather, in his own home.

Whoever you were, you were good at what you did. He would come home to his dishes washed, or maybe his clothes. With a couple of things missing of course.

He thought about calling the police, but who was he kidding? He was the police. He can't just hit up his co-workers about something a trained military officer can't do. Well, maybe one. But she wasn't all that helpful. So, he started doing his own little investigating.

However, the paranoia was so relentless. He couldn't dress without thinking you were there, watching him, maybe not even through human eyes. Cameras maybe? The man couldn't even eat without throwing up because of the anxiety you caused him. Constantly forcing him to imagine what you were planning.

How could Leon be reduced to this? He was a man of power, of status... and yet here he was quaking in his boots over some person who he could probably kill in one swift kick to the temple.

But you weren't physical, you weren't tangible. You weren't something he could pin down and fight. Were you even real?

You seemed to notice him looking into it, and that omnipresent energy seemed to sputter at the knowledge. Like usual though, you had accustomed yourself to it. He had accustomed himself to it too. Maybe, the reason why the energy seemed to shift was because he simply was being paranoid. Maybe it was the trauma from always having his life threatened, maybe it was just his memory going bad.

Or maybe, there was someone out there.

Maybe you didn't want to hurt him at all.

You never seemed to do any harm, whoever you were. In fact, you seemed almost helpful sometimes. Even though it was odd that something he'd mutter under his breath, barely audible, would somehow come to reality- it was still free in the end.

So why was he being so serious about this? It was probably no big deal. Maybe he just needed to relieve some stress, clear his head a little.

But what would that make him? Normal for wanting a little bit of self care, but what about the fact he's doing it with his window wide open, facing the woods he feels like someone's in?

Maybe it was something in him that liked this, liked the danger, the anonymity of the eyes. Maybe he dreamt about it one time, the pretty girl he found out was stalking him was maybe a little too pretty. Maybe she was an ideal, maybe he wanted those keen eyes watching him.

As he sat on the edge of his bed, facing the open window, he could practically feel the inquisitive nature about you. He could feel your gaze on him.

His member strained against his pants. He had refrained from touching himself, from doing just about anything because of the extreme obsession going on within him. But you weren't so much of a stranger anymore. At this point, you had been in his home, in his life- you were a part of him he'd struggled to accept.

But he was accepting it. Maybe he even craved it.

You were so normal to him, so comforting, like a last resort. He really had no one else. His blue eyes fluttered shut and his face bloomed red as he slid his fingertips over the ache he'd been denying. Already the pressure made him sigh, his long lashes resting against his cheek as he teased himself.

What was he doing? This was just to prove that there was no-one there, there was nothing to be afraid of, but what if there was?

He gasped as he heard something outside, and he accidentally squeezed himself in surprise. He'd be lying though if his dick didn't twitch. Jesus... maybe he wanted something to be there- someone? Someone just to prove he wasn't going crazy, he wasn't just imagining things. Why couldn't he make up his mind? He kept thinking to himself as his other hand lifted up under his shirt to pull it up a little.

You were loving the display. His eyes weren't fixed on you, they were above you to the treeline you were crouching in front of. You weren't even in a bush, you were just sitting on the ground in a very black outfit in a very dark forest. You weren't sure what he was doing when he sat on the edge of his bed like that. You almost debated the fact he might just call out to you. He had been investigating you, in fact you helped him. You gave him a false lead on some random girl who had no clue who he was.

How clever. He thought it was some silly girl with a strange obsession for him, he would never suspect his coworker.

His coworker, that's why your fingerprints were on his things. You'd redirected him so many times. When you'd come over, he'd stare outside to the treeline, where you weren't, but usually would be.

But now, you were right in front of him, with his big hand lifting up the black fabric of his tank top- gasping and subconsciously rutting into his hand. Ever so cautious, as Leon pretends to be when he's all alone.

In the safety of his own home.

You teased him, shifting just once, just to test his reaction. It's the best decision you've ever made because the sweet little gasp he makes as he suddenly grips himself is priceless. You'd record him if the stupid light attached wouldn't give you away.

However, he's right back at it. This time, he's panting, and his thighs are twitching.

Leon swears he means to have some shame, or maybe he's pretending because he can't seem to rip his pants off fast enough. He grabs the lotion beside him and puts it on his hand. God, the slut even puts on a show. Dragging his calloused hands over his thighs before he reaches his aching base and he gives it a light squeeze, bobbing it in the air. Teasing you.

Or what he believes to be that girl from Kansas. "F-fuck..." After having no contact for so long has him laying on his back now. He pumps himself slowly, small strokes to get him fully hard before he starts to speed up a little bit. The cold air blowing through the window reminds him of how exposed he is right now, and the thought makes his fist move faster. His other hand comes up to swipe his thumb over the tip, forcing a huff from himself. God it feels Soo good- so good!

He hopes someone is watching now, or he did all of this for nothing. All this worrying, all these late nights looking around his room, all this whining against his palm as his hips jump into his own fist. his knees rub together as his back arches. His muscles flex as he furiously strokes himself, his eyes rolling back in his head while he tries not to cry.

He's so humiliated, but it turns him on so fucking much. He wants to be seen, noticed. He loves this-

And you know he does, you know he's in his own little world. Because you're leaning against his house now, just under his windowsill as he cries and whines, too conflicted but so overwhelmed with pleasure. He's so overwhelmed in general.

His knees tap against each other as his hand leaves his lips to accompany his other palm on his member, stroking in two different directions. The squelch fills the air as he becomes louder, heaving and groaning furiously as he gives himself what he's been denying for so long. Yet, you tease him one more time. You make yourself openly known for the first time. You knock on the side of his house.

The sound sends a frigid chill down his spine, but it's replaced by a searing hot heat. Someone was watching him pump himself to the thought of a stalker. But he realized he loved it- he loved everything- it slammed him over the edge and his eyes roll back into his skull. The coil in his stomach bursting into a climax with an intensity he's never felt before. "Oh FUCK!! 'm cummingg!!! I'm cummin- f-fuhuhhhck!" He's sobbing as wave after wave of his orgasm slams into him, his hand is squeezing himself and the sheets for some sort of purchase to cope with the way he's practically screaming. "Ohhhh- mnh! FUCK! can't stohp-!" God, he wails like a fucking bitch. His back is arching off the bed and he explodes into his own hand, he's terrified but fuck, fuck, fuck he's cumming, and he's cumming hard. His cock pulses as the ropes of cum spew out like some dumb teenager. Fuck you're right there- you're watching him- he should be hiding, calling someone-

"Please!" He cries, and you know what he wants.

You both know what he wants, even if he doesn't admit it out loud.

So he closes his eyes, and he hears your footsteps. He's covered in his own cum, he's whining and crying- all he's saying is please over and over again, his body twitching with every footstep. Pleading you to leave him alone? To not look? To touch him? Fuck if he knows, he just wants something from you, but his brain's all fucked up from the months of psychological torment.

You're on your knees now, and he's basically hyperventilating. You take his sensitive shaft into your hand, and you lick the underside. The lotion makes your tongue buzz, but you dont care. Lotion is temporary, having a braindead Leon is forever.

LOL IM THE KING OF UNFINISHED FICS!!!

#sub leon #stockholm syndrome #stockholm syndrome leon #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #stalking #stalker reader #fem reader #psychological torment #rizz takes days to complete #stalker victim leon #dark content #stalker smut #smut

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clowndensation · 11 months

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there’s a question to be asked i think about to what extent “getting out” can be conflated with “being saved” in this show, and what freedom actually means to any of these characters.

like you can argue that shiv saved ken by voting against him on gojo, but what if your intent behind saving someone is to inflict a worse punishment than if you’d just left them trapped? can a child weaned on poison survive on milk, or are you just sentencing them to a death by inches, starved of the only thing they know? and if you save someone specifically because you know that being saved is the worst thing that can happen to them, is that kindness or cruelty? at what point does a good thing become a malicious act?

and you can say that roman is finally free, but what exactly is he free from? the company? his father? does unlocking a cage mean saving a dog, or are you allowing him out on the street knowing there’s a kill shelter nearby? if the driving anxiety behind roman is that he’s an idiot and a failure—that he’ll never amount to anything, and trying will only lead to pain—and he’s finally cut loose once all of those anxieties have crystallized into cold hard fact in his mind, what has he actually escaped from? if the cage is in your mind, is it even possible for somebody else to unlock it?

the fundamental truth of a tragedy is that even being saved can be a death sentence, if the characters are incapable of escaping the thing doing them the most harm (themselves and their childhoods)

#'what about shiv' if i think about shiv i'm going to kill myself. she needs her own post. there's too much there to get into.#anyways seeing a tremendous amount of At Least Roman Is Free <3 tags that have me going. right. for sure. free from what?#because it's certainly not the intense amount of self disgust that has driven him in circles this entire time.#i fear he may feel the weight of alienation on his soul for the rest of his life. and he won't even try to alleviate it anymore.#and ALSO the idea that shiv went out of her way to save kendall as an act of like. altruism. like it was a sacrifice on her part #which i feel is a very toothless perspective on shiv and the psychological torment that's been weighing on her essentially since birth #like her choice in regards to gojo is one of the meatiest most harrowing bits of character work i've ever seen #and while of course there was love inside that action (because nothing these characters do is entirely divorced from love)#i don't think it was necessarily a kind or forgiving or sacrificial love #like this was an intense vitriolic snapping from a dog that has been kicked by her dad all her life.#and who absolutely refuses to accept that from her brother (because that would mean acknowledging that kendall takes the mantle of Dad-#and that she's subservient to him. which is the one thing she absolutely will never do #because it's a level of degradation that's finally a step too far)#anyways. um. insane season that i still can't look at directly or i'll perish on the spot.#succession

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foldingfittedsheets · 4 months

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Oh my god. Our DM sometimes… fundamentally misses how traumatic things can be? So in tonights session we got sucked into a trap made by a beholder. We had a normal NPC with us, an old god who had lapsed into obscurity and powerlessness, and four adventurers.

It turned out the beholder wanted to keep us in a person zoo, and the DM stripped us of all powers and magic while in this prison. Our only food was unlimited doughnut holes, grape juice, and water. There was also a mimic trash can but no toilet.

So we ended up dumping our waste into the mimic which just. Ate it.

Eventually we decided to try to ramp up the old gods powers by believing in them really hard to try to escape. We played games of chance and prayed to them for luck.

It started as card games and roulette wheels of tea, escalating in insanity until we ended up using the mimic as a piñata. With one extremely good whack to it it puked up the piss and doughnut holes we’d fed it.

And that was really funny! Haha! Now how long are we gonna be stuck in here? Not that long, right?

This continued for two. Months. (In game). No food but doughnut holes and grape juice, no magic, my dragon couldn’t even transform for some reason, all while under constant surveillance from a sociopathic beholder.

When we’d finally powered up the god enough to break out of her plane all of us players were just:

And we were like, “holy fuck, we need therapy.”

The DM then laughed and said, “Oh, you’re adventurers, you don’t need therapy! It wasn’t that bad!”

#ramblies #dnd story #three of us immediately were like EVERYONE DESERVES THERAPY #BUT ALSO YOU BROKE THE GENEVA CONVENTION ON US #this same person watched RWBY volume 9 which is chock full of suicidal ideation and some of the most fucked up situations and went meh this #isn’t that dark #what he considers dark is like no subtlety fighting and not psychological torment

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hoofpeet · 2 years

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Thinking about trans Ingo again (--> X ) ,Local trans man is being tormented by a weird dog thing but the dog thing is still an #ally and totally willing to be in on the bit. for fun

#hoof draws #replacement ingo au #they're both vaguely genderfuck #spice finding out ingo's trans like hm ?? oh humans have a word for that bc they can't shapeshift lmao #yeah you're a man whatever. [keeps trying to torment him]#<- diversity win ! the zoroark trying to psychologically tormenting you respects your pronouns

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goldrushenthusiast · 10 months

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Wednesday: I hate gay people. Why are they like that?

Enid, sitting on her lap, just finished kissing her:

Wednesday: and do they have to be smiling all the time? It gives me headaches

Enid: *whispers in her ear*

Wednesday: Yes, I’m well aware I am queer. Everyone at Nevermore has told me how odd I am.

Enid: *whispers again*

Wednesday: Oh! Yes, I suppose I do like kissing girls. Fine, kissing girls makes me gay.

Yoko: She’s a little confused, but she’s got the spirit!