#i looove him <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[kazz-matazz]

hi guys.

me when im silly ⬆️

[lemongogo]

[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

[gubbly]

my dollies

[luck-of-the-drawings]

[<==PREV PAGES] [NEXT PAGE==>(not out yet.wait a year.or maybe more.imagine.]

saw alot of comments on prev pages; saying 'i HATE that mean teacher! im gonna FIGHT HIM!!' & i LOVE the energy!! it WOULD be nice. to have that catharsis. but the story of young tidestrider is Not one of catharsis. it is a story of being so small and so special and sucking so bad.

[hecksupremechips]

Akihiko becoming a cop is something that simply doesn’t happen in the coma route cuz Shinji would see that shit and be like Aki what the actual hell is wrong with you

[risingsunresistance]

I think Skyblock, at its core, is the ultimate challenge in resource management. You spawn on a tiny island in an empty universe. All you have is a tree, some supplies, and some dirt to stand on. You have to treasure every dirt block, because if one falls into the void, there's no way to replace it. And as you carefully navigate your absurd circumstance, you gain a new appreciation for the few things you have as you meticulously use them to their fullest effect. With nothing but some ice, lava, and saplings, you slowly transform this empty expanse into a world of your very own. Skyblock teaches us that, no matter how ridiculous the odds may seem, within us resides the power to overcome these challenges and achieve something beautiful---that one day, we'll look back at where we started and be amazed by how far we've come.

[jentlemahae]

MARK LEE / POLO RALPH LAUREN WKOREA BEHIND

[zazikels]

"I grow tired of these false faces. Every corner we turn, another - and now it's my face they use to turn Minsc against us."

[vinyldiskk]

pure white angel whose actions are worse than most demons <3

[shewki]

my katsu who plays real drums on his phone when he's bored or when he cant sleep <3

[automatonknight]

id: a digital drawing of izzy, an original character. she's a humanoid robot with square glasses, a headset, a mohawk and a mostly white chassis with metal elements. on a drawing more to the left cyber is pictured laying down, kicking cybers legs while rolling around a martini glass with one hand. he's talking on a pink rotary phone, holding the earpiece with her other hand. she's looking up and appears happy. the other drawing is to the right of the canvas and partially covers up the previous one. in this drawing, izzy is standing up, holding the phone up in its right arm and the martini glass in its left hand. it's holding the earpiece to her cheek using its shoudler. on both drawings izzy is dressed in a pink, flowy nightgown lined with fur, as well as fluffy pink slippers. the background is white with hot pink stars on top of it. end id

izzy uses any pronouns!

[moominpopzz]

Sorry guys just got full fledge body slammed with the idea of Ashe not actually making it through the Trickster leaving her body.. an AU where there was too much unbelievable strain because of the long lasting period she was possessed, the fact it was so sudden. The way her body was thrown around. The way the Trickster split parts of her open to make room for itself.

An AU where when Mark’s holding her body, rough textured from bright red scars and the faint burned in lettering of ruins, blood seeping onto his hands from her skin, from where it was ripped open to accommodate the Trickster yet it no longer resides, she’s not breathing. Her body was pushed well too far past her limit, Mark’s holding his child, but his child’s not there. She’ll never wake up again, with her mother now. Possible been with her for months - who’s to say she was somewhere still in her body the whole time? The Trickster doesn’t need an extra soul with him, all he needed from her was the girls body.

Au where the boys were fighting for the girls corpse without even knowing it. She’s still being puppeted so how should they? Where Mark starts screaming and wailing when he realizes she’s not breathing, no heartbeat to be found, her blood staining his clothes and hands and arms. She isn’t even allowed to look peaceful, body in shreds from the takeover.

They all fought so hard. They were supposed to have their friend back, Mark was supposed to have the only thing he ever fought for back. Instead they have her body. Her body but not her, they’ll never have her again.

[itoshi-s]

Pussydrunk!Rin. That’s it 🏃🏻‍♀️

OHHHH ........ pleaseeeee i am like 100% sure this is canon behavior for him. it really is. once rin gets into it - gets into you - he drops into this mindset where the only thought left in his head is how good your pussy feels around him :(

he loses count on how many time he's made you cum. but it's definitely a lot, judging by the way you're crying for him, body growing putty in his grip :( frankly, he's not sure how many loads he's stuffed inside of u either. but you're dripping, soaking the sheets with all the filth, and each n every thrust feels like you're sucking him in even deeper. he's flushed, from the tips of his ears down to his chest, mouth parted and he DROOLS. HE DROOLS !!!!! you can't tell me otherwise :( gets so into the zone he literally loses control. groans a lot and vocalizes every single thing he wants to do to you. makes sure u know how good you make him feel. he lets his mouth run sm, has no filter at all :(

nnnghghhhhh this makes my mind reel he's literally SO needy it's insane. he's insane for u he rly is !!!!

[rosalinesurvived]

Hey shout out to Doc in Stormbringer. My man got his MD and his doctorate before the age of 25, is American, probably bilingual, described as extremely sickly looking despite being a physician, and was recruited by Mori because of the shared traumatised shitty doctor college kid vibes. He’s saved 800 people. He’s killed 800 people. He’s even religious!

[chilei-the-hotsauce]

my beloved durge icarus uwu