Down Comes the Night (слэш)

Pain.
That is all he feels, all he will ever feel, now that this is his lot.
It tears at him, agonizing and inescapable. It drowns him, smothers him, steals the breath from his lungs and the screams from his parched throat; dries his tears before they can even fall.
It consumes him until there is nothing else. No night, no day, no sense of direction or time, no identity or purpose.
And still, it continues, that endless, incessant drip, drip, drip of venom onto his upturned face.
 
A Thorki spin on the Loki’s Punishment myth