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#the agony
artsy-waffle19 · 2 months
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actually the Erik plotline is so sick and twisted like- imagine finding out that the person you've been putting on a pedestal all your life, who felt like your only friend at times in your life and whose approval and guidance you seek even after their death, might have been fundamentally against you and actively supported the mocking, humiliation and hurting of you and anybody like you. And they cannot change or explain themselves to you or make it up or do anything to make it better or make you understand. And you cannot even be mad at them because they're not around anymore and you miss them too much to be angry.
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mikakuna · 3 months
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the way that nobody noticing, for who knows how many years, that jason broke out of his coffin implies that jason's grave was rarely, if at all, visited, and when it was, nobody in that family of brilliant detectives stayed long enough to notice something was off
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68spidey · 6 months
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A little 2009 Soapghost to soothe my soul because I'm still recovering from the campaign...
Soap turned out a little too big but that's what happens when all you have are pens and can't make corrections. Oh well!
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jellys-compendium · 2 months
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Trigun fans waiting for word on the Trigun Stampede English blurays and the release of the Deluxe Trigun/Trigun Maximum manga
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leaflessfae · 26 days
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The Harper brain worms are taking over
Pairing: M!Harper x F!pc
Content. MDNI. Noncon, kidnapping, jealous Harper, a sprinkle of yandere Harper, p in v, unprotected, sedated pc who's half-conscious, some hallucinations (I wanted to write more hypnotic stuff but that would've made this way longer so I'm holding back. For now.), tentacles but only for a liddol, fingering, (pc's cum) tasting, and hopefully that's it.
A/N. Snickering to myself as I write and lie 'Harper is a good doctor' kdkxksk
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"It's looking..." There's a sharp intake of air, then a click of a tongue before Harper is finally turning to you, what you assume to be your documents in his hands, "pretty bad."
A grave silence prevails over every corner of the room that seems to only tighten and suffocate you in its white walls. Harper stays silent for a few seconds, only running his eyes over your bewildered, yet concerned, countenance. "Wh... what's looking bad, doctor?" Eventually, you inquire, a brow raising skeptically, "I'm feeling okay?"
He breathes out, turning to set the documents on his desk and taking a moment to force his features to soften, to demolish every attempt of a smile coming out before he turns to you again, a frown drawing his brows together slightly. "Have you been taking any medications without my supervision lately?"
You have. "No, I haven't."
"Well, your tests say you have. You wouldn't lie to your doctor now, would you?" He shakes his head, "because that would be pretty disappointing."
His tone makes you visibly reel back in your seat, a grimace fighting its way to your face. "It's just painkillers." You lie through your teeth, keeping your head held high and alert. You've never taken a liking to the doctor standing before you; always has he given you unpleasant vibes that screamed at you to bolt out of his confined room of an office. You've trusted your guts at that time and changed your doctor, only to notice that something is very wrong with the way your body feels lately. Doctor Harper, very unfortunately, was actually good at his job (or so he appears), and so you reluctantly made your way back to him, only to remember why you changed doctors in the first place.
"Don't underestimate medicine, sweetheart. What have you been taking?"
You've fallen silent once again. All plans of actually fixing whatever the hell was up with your body thrown out the window; you just wanted to get out of here. And so you lie again. "Maybe the tests are wrong. I'm feeling totally fine, and I haven't been taking anything."
"You haven't been attending your weekly checkups." His hands are already dressing up in medical gloves, eyes aren't even on you as he scolds.
"I'm just busy."
"Busy changing doctors?" A final snap announces the gloves are in place as he glances up at you, gaze fixing you in place.
Your lips thin into a line, hands gripping the edge of the bed you're sat on. Harper sighs before you can retort back, shaking his head. "I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed. Look at where you've gotten yourself." He shrugs his hand at you, gesturing to your body, "Now we gotta fix you up, don't we? You wouldn't have gotten into this in the first place were you to listen to me."
"I-I'm late for my shift, actually. Let's discuss this later?" You scramble to get off the bed once he starts approaching. "Next week–"
"No, you don't know how dire your situation is. We have to take action immediately."
You don't even think as you bolt for the door upon noticing a syringe filled and ready in his hand, your hands gripping the handle and harshly tugging. The door rattles in protest and refuses to budge, so you tug it again in case you didn't force it enough the first time, but it only meets your efforts with macabre immutability. When the hell did he lock–
"Trust me, darling, I'm not very happy about doing this either." You would've believed him if it weren't for his breath picking up, a foul grin stretching his lips. "I would've been able to detoxify your body with you conscious, but your test results are extremely alarming. I'm going to have to sedate you for this."
"No. I'm good!" With the door being completely out of the escaping picture, you resort to using what you always use in the streets. You swing your fist at his face once he's close enough, placing a great amount of strength in it; half of it induced by fear, and it works. Harper doesn't seem to expect your sudden attack as he stumbles back, clutching a hand to his bleeding nose. It buys you enough time to run to the windows, not caring if the jump would break your fucking legs.
But a surprisingly strong hand yanks you back by your shirt, sending you tumbling back and hitting his desk in the process. Harper lunges at you before you can lunge at him and wrestles you to the floor, seizing your wrists in a firm grip and sitting over your body, rendering you immobile. He was stronger than he looked, and it terrified you to think what he might also be in hidden sight.
"Stay put. You wouldn't want to hurt yourself further now, would you?" Harper's grin only widens as you struggle and writhe underneath him, blood smeared across his face and dripping on your skin. "I'm only trying to help you out."
"I would rather fucking die!" You spit, fiery eyes glaring and legs kicking– trying to kick.
Harper clicks his tongue several times in disappointment as if you were a child who needs to be disciplined. "Such foul words. You shouldn't say that to a doctor. It wounds them." He produces the syringe again, punctures your skin before you can scream in terror in hopes for someone to come running for your aid. "Shh...sh...I've got you." He's got his hand glued to your lower jaw to drown out every screech for help you could utter until your eyes grow impossibly heavy, body falling limp beneath him.
-
When you awaken, it's not at the hospital.
None of the bleak white walls and glaring lights greet you when you flutter your eyes open, head feeling heavy as ever as you struggle to make sense of what could've possibly happened. It's dim in the room, the only light being the street lamps filtering in through the window. It's– wait. Street lamps.
You would've jolted up in the realization that it's nighttime were your body functioning, but all you can feel is– nothing. You can't feel your legs. You can't feel your arms, your hands, your fingers. Panic settles in your veins, your heart palpitating faster with each passing second. You're quick to feel lightheaded with anxiety, heart drumming loudly in your ears. Where the fuck were you–
"You can't move, doll. Don't bother." A soft voice that could only belong to Harper rings out from beside you. Terror-stricken yet unable to move, your eyes flit to your side, and there he is. A gentle smile adorns his rather gentle features as he lays beside you. "Don't worry, it's going to wear off eventually. You're safe with me."
You're anything but safe with him. Your eyes can only follow his hand as he moves to toy with a strand of your hair, idly twirling it around his fingers before bringing it to his face, breathing in deeply then kissing it. He sits up, twisting around to grab a glass of water and a pill from the nightstand. "This will make you feel better."
You press your lips together at once, jaw clenching and refusing to open your mouth as he presses the pill to your lips. He frowns, pushes it further until it clashes against your teeth. "Yeah?" He says, before forcing your jaw open with a hand clenching the sides of your face. "Should I really teach you a lesson to listen to your doctor?" He forces the pill into your mouth before hurriedly holding the glass to his lips. Soon are his lips on yours, passing the water through his mouth and tipping your head in a way that would force you to swallow.
"There we go." He pulls away then immediately yanks at your skirt, pulling it all the way down your legs. Your panties are pushed to the side and, despite how dry you are, your pussy welcomes his finger. He only glides it along your folds, but you feel yourself getting weirdly wet way too quickly.
"Did you really think you could fool me?" He huffs, out of breath already even though he's barely touched you, a manic grin spreading his lips. He isn't even trying to hide it the way he usually does at your appointments. No. There's no need. Not when he has you all for himself, all docile and vulnerable for all his fantasies and wicked intentions. "Did you think I wouldn't notice when my favorite patient starts frequenting other doctors? You're so cute. So dumb."
Then he pushes his finger into you, and he moans at the sight, at the sensation of your warm cunt, and at how your pussy makes those adorable squelching sounds when he starts fucking his finger into you. An exhilarated laugh leaves him when you start making small whimpery noises, which only leads him to push another finger into you.
Whatever he made you swallow was taking a toll on your mind. Harper was starting to look blurry, hazy, and even a bit disoriented. You blink rapidly, trying to clear your vision but only starting to see something taking shape around him. "Mmh.." You blabber as if to alert him, but he only chuckles in that frightening tone of his.
"What's that, darling? I can't understand you."
"Mnngh..." another trial that only proves your tongue to be too heavy to form actual words. Harper suddenly fingers you faster, forcing moans out of you, and then you feel it. Slimy and wet and sticky, sliding across your legs and all the way to your thighs, slipping under your shirt and caressing your tummy. Your breath shakes, both from Harper's assault and fear. Blobs, thick and thin, taking multiple shapes and sizes, vaguely resembling tentacles, surround you.
You feel them getting closer to where Harper is coaxing fluids out of you. You feel them circle your nipples and latch onto them. You feel them snake around your thighs and spread them further, or that might be you gaining some control in the sense that you can slightly move your body, just not upon your conscious command.
With a strained voice, you whimper, both scared and on the very edge of climaxing. You don't know if you want to push him away - if you had the strength - or to hold onto him in fear of the tentacles. "H-Ha..pa.."
"That's my name."
Then you're gushing around his fingers, pussy squeezing them so delightedly and covering them in your sweet sweet slick. "Oh yes– fuck, fuck yes. Squeeze my fingers like that!" Harper might be hyperventilating with the way he pants, his usual self-control nowhere to be found as he hastens to pull his hard cock out of his pants, his hand wrapping around it and pumping in time with the clenching of your walls.
"Sweet doll." He withdraws his fingers at last, laughing as he presses them together only to spread them apart, watching your slick form sticky threads between them. He brings his fingers close to his mouth, lolling out his tongue and moaning loudly as he twirls it around them before sucking them completely into his mouth.
He takes his time tasting you, savoring every drop with a moan, not bothering to hide how hard he's getting and how his flushed tip leaks precum on your thigh. Meanwhile, you're fighting the urge to cry, to wail as something else plays with your slit. Slimy and thin and you feel it fluttering around your twitching hole. Harper doesn't react to it, as if it's not even there, but you can very clearly feel it. It must be there!
"Mm, so..." Harper says, finally letting his fingers out and giving them a last lick, "so sweet. Here. Taste yourself." His fingers dip into your cunt so suddenly it makes you jolt a bit, and he gathers your cum and slick before it's pushed into your mouth. "See? You taste good."
He doesn't stop there. Toys with your tongue like it's his right, feeling the warm muscle beneath his fingertips, not taking his fingers out until he's sure you've cleaned them of your cum, and covered them instead with your saliva. Harper is entranced as he watches you as if he's the one under the influence; his eyes are half-lidded as they drink you in, and his lips are slightly open, face so flushed and tinted deep red.
His hands grip your hips and he drags you closer to him, his cock nudges at your entrance and suddenly the tentacles that were invading your vision disappear. You gasp, blinking up at the ceiling then at him in confusion, and he smiles so wide when he sees your gaze on him, his ears flushing redder than they already were.
"I'm gonna make you feel good," whispers as he holds your panties to the side and slides in, feeding his cock into your tight slippery hole, his jaw falling slack and eyes rolling back, throat rumbling with a long "fuuuuck..."
He pulls you up, cradling your body against his as he bottoms out. "So– shit, so much better than I imagined."
Harper is up in a second, lifting you with him by his hands that dig into the plush of your ass. "I've always wanted to try this," he whispers before you're lifted until only his tip is snug inside you, then brought down until he's fully enveloped again, cock hitting so deep in your cunt. "Fuck– ah, h-hold onto m– right, you can't." He laughs out of breath, then you're slammed against a wall, weight distributed between him and the cold wall against your back.
He lets one hand move up to shrug your arms around his neck, telling you to be good and try to keep them there. "You can do that, no? Some of that strength must be back by now." He whispers in your ear before he's drilling into you, moaning loudly directly in your ears, even drowning out your own moans with his. "You– have no idea how much I waited for this."
He kisses you, tongue first, licking into your open mouth and groaning with wild abundance. Harper never falters in his thrusts and never makes you feel as if you're about to fall, his grip firm and stronger than you thought him to be. He bites your lower lip as he pulls away then smiles at you. "Do you know how hard it was to hold back? To stop at a few invasive touches but never go far enough to satisfy?"
He angles his hips, hitting spots you didn't know would send you squealing. "To see your cute little ass trot into my office, to sit so fucking prettily, and to talk my ear off about worthless scums trying to get a piece of you when all I can think about is how pretty you'd be split on my dick?"
He slithers his hands from your ass and to the back of your thighs, holding you by them and spreading you open, his gaze falling down to where his cock disappears again and again, getting sucked so hungrily by your greedy cunt. "F-fucking hell. Look at you taking me so well! I knew you could take it."
But then his tone changes, and his thrusts turn harsher, rougher without the usual care he carries. "But then you go off and think you can avoid me by seeing another doctor." He hisses, eyes blown with infatuation yet frustration, "It's okay. Hah, it's okay. You'll always come back to me. I'll make sure of it."
It's only then that you notice. That your eyes focus a bit and zero in on the stains on his shirt. Some of them are brown and dry, but the fresher ones– the fresher ones are tinted crimson, spread about chaotically as if something was squirted messily and splattered his shirt. Harper notices your gaze and laughs, loud and breathless.
"I did it for you. " He stutters and plunges deep within you, pressing into your body as close as possible while his seed splutters your insides, pumping you full of his cum as you moan and follow very close behind, clenching around him and milking him of every drop he's worth. Harper holds you against the wall for a while, until both of you almost catch your breaths.
Your eyes barely stay open as your head lays on his shoulder, more exhausted than you originally were. This time, you notice a small card on the nightstand. Your heart suddenly picks up again when you focus on it, recognizing the bloodied ID as the doctor's you frequented a few times, confirming your suspicions.
Harper seems to know that you're looking directly at it, and he smiles. "I told you I'll make sure of it."
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A/N. Once my writing skills evolve and I can write mind break (and be satisfied with it) it's over for yall
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silliemop · 8 months
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couldn’t make my hand draw anything super dazzling so i just drew a tiny comic
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faithghoul · 9 months
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mugentakeda · 3 months
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how i look as i go back and forth a million times between the canvas and the five different reference pics i have just to draw fire nation armor
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thwackk · 1 year
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get ponied, idiot
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circusofshrimps · 3 months
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everything looks better through rose colored lenses
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mikakuna · 2 months
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you ever think about jason feeling guilty for being the only one in crime alley to make it out, to get adopted by a wealthy person. do you think he feels guilty for messing up his chance, a chance that any crime alley child could only dream of, by dying?
do you think about the guilt that must've coursed through him when he was younger, sitting at the wayne family table eating a single meal that could've fed other crime alley children for a month? how many sleepless nights must he have had, shifting from his luxurious new bed to the floor because he couldn't remember the last time one of the other children slept in actual beds?
do you think he felt guilty about going to one of the richest schools in gotham knowing that most of the crime alley children would never be able to even step foot in a school, too busy worrying about more important matters? he must've had those moments where he was so happy sitting in class because finally i can go to school and i love it i love it so much but then the regret suddenly hits and he remembers those teenagers who loved school and were so close to making it out, yet eventually they'd be spotted on street corners or running drugs.
the guilt must've weighed so heavy on his little shoulders.
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dramoor · 1 month
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The Agony Philosophers have measur’d mountains, Fathom’d the depths of the seas, of states, and kings, Walk’d with a staff to heav’n, and traced fountains: But there are two vast, spacious things, The which to measure it doth more behove: Yet few there are that sound them; Sin and Love. Who would know Sin, let him repair Unto mount Olivet; there shall he see A man so wrung with pains, that all his hair, His skin, his garments bloody be. Sin is that press and vice, which forceth pain To hunt his cruel food through ev’ry vein. Who knows not Love, let him assay And taste that juice, which on the cross a pike Did set again abroach, then let him say If ever he did taste the like. Love is that liquor sweet and most divine, Which my God feels as blood; but I, as wine.
~George Herbert (1593-1633)
(Image via Pinterest)
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kristxrt · 3 months
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stressed izu for a comic i'll never finish
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matchafroggy · 2 months
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vox struggling to put on a screen protector has been living rent free in my brain for too long
i had to get it out
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[made in procreate] [3/3/2024]
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chipswsalsa · 11 months
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oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no
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amateur-selfshipper · 10 months
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We talk a lot about struggling to come up with a self insert but nothing can ever prepare you for when you have TWO really good ideas for one and you have to choose between them.
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