#did things i didn't wanna

[cianmarstoo]

wip wednesday

getting yall before you can get me - it's literally 4:06am

heres a snippet from my next chapter on Did things I didn't wanna!

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Derek distracted Alex with different bath toys, bubbles, and bath bombs, while Meredith added a box of pull-ups to the cart underneath the clothes so Alex wouldn’t see: he hadn’t used them so far, but they were required to have them for him considering his drop age.

“Do you want this bud? You can have one in your bath tonight.” Derek pointed at the pack of different bath bombs, one of which was a shark which had caught Alex’s eye.

Alex bit his lip, then shook his head, sadly. “They girls ones.”

“Bath bombs are for girls?” Alex nodded and Derek forced himself not to frown, he kept his voice soft, “Bath bombs aren’t just for girls, Alex, they’re for anyone.”

“Nuh uh, Jimmy said girls.”

“Who’s Jimmy, Alexander?”

Alex frowned, staring at the bath bombs, the shark was glittery, but it looked cool; a big white with sharp teeth and a big red tongue. “... daddy… he gone.” 

Derek pressed a kiss to Alex’s forehead. If he ever saw the guy he was going to kick his ass, though from what Alex said, and his file which hadn’t mentioned Jimmy by name, he hadn’t had a thing to do with Alex since he was young. “That’s very silly of him. You know I like bath bombs, sometimes I use ones Meredith has, and I used to use ones my sisters had when I used to live at home: I’ve never seen any as cool as these ones though.”

“.... you have them too?”

“Uh huh, I do. They’re a lot of fun- you get to watch them swirl around, and they change the color of the water. I think these ones are cool, what have we got… a shark, a turtle…”

“Fishy.”

“That’s right, a fishy, what’s this last one… is it a bird?” 

As expected, that silliness made Alex laugh, “Nuh uh, crocodile!”

Derek smiled at the adorable way he’s said crocodile, like ‘cwock-id-aisle’. “Ahhh, of course, a crocodile, silly me! How about we get this one, and one of the bubble baths, theres a cool space one, or a car one-”

“Piwate!”

Derek grinned, picking them up with the hand which wasn’t holding Alex, “Good choice, you can have them in a bath after dinner tonight, before bedtime.” 

“Don’ need bedtimes.”

Derek couldn’t help but smile, considering this was the most awake he’d seen Alex in days, and he was normally fast asleep before it even hit 7pm. “Sorry, Alexander, that’s just one of the rules we’ve got to have so you’re safe and healthy.” 

Alex let out a sigh and pouted at him, “I doc-tor.”

“And you’re a very good doctor when you’re big, sunshine, but you’ve got to follow rules at the hospital, right?” Alex frowned confused then nodded his head, “well, you’ve got to also listen to the rules me and Mer made, Alexander,” he smiled as he walked over to the cart where Meredith had finally hidden the boxes, “but, maybe we can pick out some more books today, then one of us could read you a bedtime story?”

“... any book?”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

No pressure tag-

@anewkindofme (ha got u before you can get me lol), @pocketspencer , & @bobadiin

[hijacksecrets]

I couldn't draw the frosty cheeks without giving Jack something to blush about xD

[tapeworrmart]

Foresight 📼🩸

[kaitobromota]

[Blows the dust off this blog] Long time no see...

Back in the Danganronpa pits... have some silly doodles for an...AU? or like, slight canon divergence/missing scene? I got to chapter 5 in my THH replay and was thinking about the part where these four are alone in the gym dismantling Monokuma all night.

I know realistically it's supposed to be because they were paranoid and extra careful about taking it slow so nothing went wrong... but like... their alibi is from 10pm to 7am? In my heart of hearts it actually took the whole night because they kept getting distracted and chit-chatting and got into a bunch of shenanigans once the actual dismantling part was done. Like Byakuya says they went to the bathroom in pairs?? Not to mention you'd totally expect him to make a comment about how insufferable it was being stuck together for like nine hours. And Hina says they played rock paper scissors to decide who brought back breakfast???

You can't tell me they didn't bond at least a little bit. A friend pointed out it'd have the vibes of a 4am discord call and that's exactly it. Emotional confessions about personal fears and insecurities to dumb physiological debates that become inside jokes forever. Etc.

[bixels]

While I do think anon was rude, I do think it's pretty shitty to set up all this stuff you were going to add the au and then just drop it. It's disappointing. Definitely unfollowing.

Bye.

[zecoritheweirdone]

hey do you guys wanna see a comic for a msa au me and my friend ascel came up with? trick question yes you do. anyway- hehehehehhhoo body swap au <3.

okay quick context for this rq- this is an au where it diverges after freaking out- instead of possessing the truck, lewis ends up chasing the gang for a while, maybe a week or two? arthur and vivi don't know why this random ghost they met ages ago keeps going after them, but one things for sure- he really, really wants arthur's head on a spike.

cut to the present- arthur got separated from vivi and mystery, and lewis ends up chasing him into the woods!

[magicaldreamfox1]

KINNPORSCHE TWO YEAR ANNIVERSARY EVENT

— Ep 4: Favourite Location/Set

[rawbin-hsr]

OMGGG Your latest smut fic is so amazing!!! The smut is absolutely delicious! but....the angst is breaking my heart so...could you please write a continuation or part two where the reader confronts Aventurine's dark internal thoughts and comforts them? A fic where they actually get him to believe that they love him for real, where they tell him that he's not a monster and that he wasn't ruining them.

You've got it ! (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

Aventurine x Reader

You treat Aventurine with more respect than he deserves. (Part 2)

Read part 1 here !

CW: dehumanisation (internal, thoughts Aventurine has of himself, referring to himself as a “monster”), lots of mentions of death, passively suicidal Aventurine, violent imagery (through metaphors, nobody is actually physically harmed), intrusive thoughts, Aventurine thinks kind of vicious things about you (refers to you as "stupid", "brainless", "naive" etc), cursing.

Lmk if there’s anything else I should warn about !!

Small note: Spoiler alert sorry, but you will not completely fix Aventurine in this fic. Making any real progress would take YEARS. The trauma he's gone through and his beliefs about his own humanity are EXTREMELY deep-seated, just one conversation would not be enough to make him truly believe he was loved. Super sorry since I'm sure that's not what you wanted (you specifically requested they "truly get him to believe that they love him for real", but this does still end on a hopeful note so I hope you won't be too disappointed (•ᴗ•,, ) )

Sometimes Aventurine gains enough clarity to remember where he stands. More importantly, he gains enough clarity to remember where you should stand. That is to say, as far away from him as possible. Unfortunately, you are never keen on doing that. 

In these moments of clarity, he distances himself. If you won’t do it, he has to. He needs to. He needs to even when he can feel the little pieces of him that you’ve managed to haphazardly glue together splinter into tiny shards again, even when it feels like every step away is a step walked on shattered glass. He can hardly be called a ‘person’ anyways, what does his suffering matter? He has already lost so many good things, why not add another loss to the tally?

He reads your texts, but he doesn’t respond. He hangs up on you the moment you call. By doing this, he makes sure you know he is alive. Both because he knows it would devastate you if you thought he died, but even more so to make sure you know he is intentionally ignoring you. He hopes at least some part of you hates him. He thinks part of him hates you.

But he can never stay away for long. Like a werewolf called by the full moon; like a vampire to blood; like a siren to a sailor. Thoughts of you always cloud his mind too much to do what is right. He reminds himself he will destroy you. He comes back anyways. He is too selfish not to. 

And you welcome him with open arms every time. Sure, sometimes you yell. Sometimes you berate him. Sometimes you cry. But he never does something beyond the bounds of what you’ll forgive, even though he tries to. You’re patient to a fault. Though he feels bad, he never takes it fully seriously, because you always hold him with so much sweetness, even when your words are filled with righteous anger and justified hurt. You always end it by reminding him that you love him. Something clenches in his chest; something that is not his heart, because he has none. He claims he is sorry, but you both know he will do this again. He always does. You know he will hurt you over and over, even if you don’t know the extent. You know he will test you, that he will ignore you, that he will cling to you and that he will taunt you. You don’t know he will drag his claws through you and tear you to ribbons; you don’t know he will sink his teeth into your neck and drink all your blood; you don’t know he will lure you to sea and drown you. You are never aware of the true danger you are in. 

Maybe that’s why you one day feel comfortable enough to corner the creature that has taken on the appearance of a lover. You sit down next to him in bed one evening after one of his many attempts to push you away, your expression grim. You look straight ahead, right into his dead eyes, unaware that a monster is towering over you. 

“We can’t go on like this,” you say. For one moment, the crushing relief and devastation threatens to consume him, and he’s not sure which of the feelings is stronger. For one moment he can’t breathe. 

He hacks our a laugh, his skin straining. Something is shifting beneath his flesh, something ugly and dangerous. He needs to leave and he needs to do it quickly. 

“You’re right, we can’t,” he agrees, his voice a lot more steady than he feels. He feels the urge to grab you and shake you until you pass out. He feels the urge to suck out your life force until your body is an empty husk. He feels the urge to slam your head into the bathroom sink in the next room over. He feels the urge to shoot himself in the head, because he does not want to do any of that. 

“I love you,” you say, unexpectedly. Or maybe it’s not unexpected. You always say such stupid, brainless things. (You say it with sweetness. The only sweetness he can offer in return is the sweetness of bacteria digesting rotting meat. Is the flesh his, or will it be yours?) He laughs again. 

“I thought we were breaking up,” he says. Smirking, as if it’s funny. (It isn’t.)

“No, we’re really not,” you say firmly. He snorts. 

“Maybe we should.”

You don’t answer. Instead, you come closer. 

Get away, he thinks. Run, you fucking idiot. 

You don’t have many flaws, but the ones you do have are insurmountably big. You are too forgiving, you are too kind, you are too selfless, you are too naive. You will kill yourself doing this one day. You will let him kill you.

Your arms wrap around him. He can’t help but relax. The thing lurking under his human disguise grows more restless. 

“I don’t hate you,” you say, unexpectedly. And this one really is unexpected, because what made you say that? Your arms squeeze around him tighter. “I thought I was being obvious enough about that, but you’re so bad at understanding it.”

The feeling he has is the same as the feeling he gets when he realises a deal is going awry. You are the highest risk stakes he has ever made a bet on: will he ruin you, or will you ruin him? What you could do to him is so much more serious than death. He knows that he is holding a losing hand. He doesn’t even know what he stands to win.

You kiss his neck. He shudders. 

“Why are you so scared of me?” you ask. 

Scared? He is not scared. What an outright laughable concept. Neither of you are scared, but if one of you was, it should be you, but you aren’t, for some reason.

“What gives you that idea?” he chuckles, but his voice is not as steady this time, and he can feel his smile slipping. (What is wrong with him? He doesn’t want to think about it. The answer is always ‘everything’.)

“Your hand is shaking.”

It is, but that is not because he is afraid. Fear is a human response, borne from the desire to live. It is instinctual. It means kicking and screaming, it means clawing your way out of hell for the chance to see another day, it means fighting for the life you don’t want to end. He cannot die, you see. Death cannot occur twice. Just because his body reacts, that does not necessarily mean he can truly fear any longer.

(Then again, maybe his reaction does not come from the thought of his death.)

“I’m not scared,” he says, and his voice sounds a lot weaker than he had expected. You pull him closer, cradling his head against the crook of your neck. His blood is pulsing too quickly.

“It would be okay if you were,” you murmur. “I know you don’t know how to be loved. That’s okay. I’ll teach you. You just have to let me.”

Squash. Slice. Tear.

Maybe you are the monster. He can feel your claws prying his chest open; he can feel your teeth dig into his flesh; he can feel something that is not air fill his lungs. The biggest difference between you and him is that he devours, while you give. You painfully shove something back into the cavity meant to contain his soul, you pump blood back into his system, and you fill whatever gaps are left in him with something that is first cold but quickly warms. 

(He realises, belatedly, that something is pumping inside his chest again. But it can’t be a heart, can it? He lost that so long ago.)

“I’ll kill you,” he manages through gritted teeth, claws digging into your shirt. It is not a threat. It is not a warning. It is just the truth.

“You think too much,” you admonish him. Your tone is as gentle as your words are cutting. “I wish you would trust me more. You’re so determined to ruin your own life, and I don’t like it.”

“That’s just how I am. Deal with it or leave.”

“I’ll deal with it, then.”

Like a werewolf called by the full moon; like a vampire to blood; like a siren to a sailor. He will destroy you. But you accept it. 

He has tried time and time again to push you away, but he is weak. So incorrigibly weak, and though your flaws are insurmountable, his are all-consuming. He is a monster in all the ways that matter. But you stubbornly will not leave despite that. 

(Maybe that makes him a little more willing to try to change his nature. Just a little. Just for you. If you will not leave anyways, maybe he could try to make his presence a little less torturous.)

“Just… please stop ignoring me,” you sigh, nuzzling into his hair. Tenderly, tenderly, tenderly, so tenderly it makes his skin crawl. Your claws are softly piercing into him and he is helpless, unable (unwilling) to fight back. “I can deal with everything else. I just hate it when you do that. I can’t keep going weeks without speaking to you. I know you have some kind of… weird ideas that I’d be better off without you, but that’s not true. I love you, and I love being around you. I can’t help you when you cut me off at every corner.”

Cut, slice, slash.

Something in him breaks. Something he knows cannot be salvaged. Something he knows you would not want to salvage. Something he is not sure if he wants to salvage either, now that it is broken anyways.

He breathes a shaky breath, his fingers — his fingers, not claws, not this time — digging into your back. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, and he does not feel the urge to bite down. Though his eyes feel wet, it would not be enough water to drown you. 

He knows your line of logic is wrong. He knows the fact remains unchanged: he is a monster of a man. He will ruin you. But maybe your presence sparks enough electricity to keep his heart pumping, just for a little while, and maybe he can wait until things actually start going downhill before he lets you go. Maybe he can remember how to be a human for a bit, maybe he can pretend he is. 

“I just… don’t want to do something I can’t take back,” he whispers. “Not with you. You’re the… the only good thing I have left. I don’t know what I’d do if I…”

“That’s sweet, but I’m not as weak as you think I am,” you reply. “I’ve held out this long, haven’t I? Put more faith in me.”

He smiles.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

---------------------------------------------------------

My inbox is open, feel free to send in asks or requests, I'd love to ramble about things <3 Also reblogs are EXTREMELY appreciated the final push I needed to finish this was from a very kind individual who reposted and analysed my writing I've been riding that high ever since they did that ily bro

[raiiny-bay]

the kids released a new album

[eff-plays]

AA wives: Astarion's asshole is the wrong color!! My self-insert would never eat his ass if that were this color. You're not letting me roleplay eating Astarion's ass even a little bit. This isn't a roleplaying game anymore it's a morality simulator. You're forcing morality into the game by making a point about only eating a certain color of ass. Also you're kinkshaming me so much. I'm an adult. I will harass you about this until you give in.

Larian, on their hands and knees wearing a dog collar: Yes ma'am right away ma'am please send us the exact hex code of the color you want it to be and we will change it posthaste

[cianmarstoo]

Chapter 19 of Did Things I didn't Wanna is currently in progress.... and its gonna be a chunky one (not yet finished writing it but so far...

[kagooleo]

finally got my fluffyrice keychain tests in! these guys turned out much bigger than I anticipated (and after noticing a very specific error on one of these 😅) but they honestly turned out pretty nice!

[jq37]

no but seriously the whole david thing was so fucked up, and it's especially wild how it comes right after book 19 and cassie's deal with aftran, where we are shown the "humanity" of the evil brain slugs, and then right afterward we get three books showing just how evil these kids have become just by virtue of the way they've been forced to fight (do you think they'd turned fourteen yet, when they exiled a kid their age, because they'd forcibly recruited him just as they'd been recruited, and he didn't handle it like they did?)

This has been sitting in my ask box for a bit because I wanted to fact check my memories but woof. I don't know that I would have handled David any better at 14 or now for that matter.

Especially after the Saddler incident. Like we saw some humanity from a Yeerk in book 19 and then some REAL Yeerk behavior in David choosing to steal this poor kid's identity and life--literally throwing him down an elevator shaft to finish him off. Not just any kid either--Jake and Rachel's cousin. Their obnoxious cousin who sucked but still. Their flesh and blood family.

The thing that really gets me about The Solution is, at the end of the day, it's Cassie's plan. Cassie, the kindest most empathetic member of the group, is forced to use that empathy with brutal efficiency to figure out how to play emotional chess with this fellow kid huge amoral liability and it works. It works exactly according to plan.

But she has to live with that. Cassie, the tree hugger, the vegetarian, the one who was willing to sacrifice her life for one stranger three books ago has to live with the knowledge that she did this (knowing full well what the lifespan is of a rat as opposed to a human boy) and she has to live with that knowledge for a long, long time.

Anyway I don't know about evil, but ruthless? Oh yeah.

[synthshenanigans]

The Mind but wearing some pjs that I own cos it seemed very mind like to me

eepy mind real

[Alt versions cos I always make those lol ↓]

[harbingersecho]

[thedreadvampy]

sometimes I forget that my experience has been. um. not 'your experiences are not universal' vibes but more like 'your experiences are EXTREMELY atypical'