#i think 18 btw

[rainbowsunshinegeesus]

be honest how old do u guys think his exact age is

[rawbin-hsr]

Aventurine x Reader

You treat Aventurine with more respect than he deserves.

Read part 2 here !

Only barely proof-read, guaranteed to have lots of grammatical errors, English is not my first language and I am experimenting with my writing style <3

CW: smut, handjob (Aventurine receiving), dehumanisation (internal, thoughts Aventurine has of himself, referring to himself as a “monster”), feelings of inadequacy, hurt/very little comfort, crying, mentions of death, at some points this seems like dubcon because Aventurine speaks of feeling “dread”, but it’s NEVER intended to be read as him not wanting to receive touch from reader, it is meant to convey how little he thinks he deserves this. The smut is soft and gentle, but Aventurine’s internal thoughts definitely are not <3

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

18+, minors will be blocked <3

Your touch is so kind. Soft and gentle, as if he is made of the finest porcelain, as if he is a fragile flower, as if he is delicate. It is cruel, he thinks, that he has made you think he is any less than a monster. It is cruel that he hasn’t pushed you away, when he knows he will devour you. It has become part of his nature.

But how can he push you away when you are so persistent? How can he push you away when you roll with his punches, when you go along with each and every one of his pushes and pulls? It is hard to keep you out when you insistently pry your way into what’s left of his soul, when you gaze upon the rotten corpse that he is and still claim him to be beautiful. He thinks you must be blind at best and naive at worst.

“You’re so pretty,” you whisper reverently, and though Aventurine knows his body is, he also knows that is not the part of him you’re referring to. Not when your hand rests on his chest, above the empty cavern where his heart is meant to be.

You kiss his neck and he shivers. There’s a pit in his stomach, knotting his insides with dread.

He should tell you to stop, should warn you that he’s deceiving you, that he’s not the person you think he is. Should show you that he is a wolf in sheep’s clothing, that he is a bad omen. But he can’t bring himself to. Not when being with you feels so good, not when he’s self-indulgent to a fault, and he can’t help himself with you. He is the worst mistake you could ever make, in part because he can’t even stop from letting you continue to make it.

His hands rest on the back of your neck, fingers tangled in your hair. It is unfair how good your touch feels, his back arching just from mere caresses upon his skin. You play him like he’s an instrument you’ve practiced for years, despite never having fucked him before. He digs his heels into your back as your hand wraps around his dick, and he whines into your shoulder when you lovingly stroke it.

“I love you,” you murmur as he pulls on your hair, as his nails dig into your skin, and he wants to cry. He will destroy you from the inside out, he knows, or maybe he will kill you before he gets the chance to. He can never keep the things he loves alive.

Your lips kiss his skin, and he moans brokenly as your thumb glides over the head of his cock, pushing down on the tip. His hips rock up to meet your hand, and he feels ashamed of how blatantly he allows himself to enjoy you, how blatantly he allows himself to use you. You deserve so much better, but you are the best thing that he has ever managed to get his bloodstained hands on, and so he can’t help himself. He wants you to remain unaware of how much better you could do. He wants you to stubbornly remain by his side even when he makes it hard for you to do so. He wants to bare every part of his being to you so you can see how little worth he is to you. He wants you to run from him before it’s too late.

But part of him knows he already has shown you himself, that you’ve seen who he is and you still love him. You must be stupid.

“Use me,” he begs you, wishing you’d do something with him to alleviate the guilt he feels, so it would at least be mutual. His hands cling to you, and he whimpers pathetically when you lean back to look down at him. “Use me, please. Please…”

And your eyes are so kind. Your eyes are so sweet and soft and human, and everything he is not.

“Shh,” you hush him, tenderly pressing a kiss to his lips. He sobs, feeling embarrassing tears fill his eyes as you press closer to him, the touch so caring and innocent yet so lewd as your hand tugs at him. “Just let me make you feel good, okay?”

And you do. You always keep true to your words, unlike him. It’s barely a minute later that his breath hitches and he keens, nearly wailing into your neck as he comes undone under your too loving hands. It’s obscene, and he feels filthy as his semen paints your hand and splatters on his lower stomach. He has soiled your perfect skin, has dirtied your perfect body. He hopes you will let go of him and wash yourself up, then leave him here, broken on the bed in the mess he’s created. That you will leave him to pick up the pieces of himself he has left. He is undeserving of you.

And yet he only feels your love swaddle him when his body relaxes, adoring praises and sweet words tumbling from your perfect lips as your perfect hands gently stroke his body, soothing him as if he is deserving. Your perfect body presses closer to him, no doubt getting his mess on your perfect abdomen as you almost lay yourself flat on him. You pepper perfect kisses all over his face, and he realises belatedly he’s crying. For the first time in ten years. Fat tears rolling down his cheeks, and he doesn’t know for what reason.

But you seem like you do know. You look so understanding, wiping his tears with an achingly kind, perhaps slightly sad smile, and you don’t ask him why.

“I’ve got you now, it’s okay,” you say instead. And you do, because you always keep true to your word.

And he is selfish, because he doesn’t stop you. He lets you clean him up, lets you kiss his tears away, lets you take care of him. Lets you climb into bed with him afterwards, unaware that you have brought the monster under your bed up into your loving arms. He hasn’t felt so much love since he was nine.

And he is selfish, because even though he can already feel his claws dig into your flesh as he holds you in return, he cannot bring himself to pull away. He can only hope he won’t dig in his heels when you eventually see reason and try to leave. He can only hope you will have the time to get away before he kills you.

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My inbox is open, feel free to send in asks or requests, I'd love to ramble about things <3

[freaky-flawless]

The De Nile sisters!

[robby-bobby-tommy]

The parallels that hurt so much

They both jinxed the most important event in their lives trying to help...

They both lost their closest friends to this....

And both were abandoned and hurt in the worst way possible by the sibling they've looked up to....

They had good intentions, they were so young......

And they're the monsters others have created.

[lunarharp]

What led to this (orufrey comic, cw an uncomfortable/creepy scene)

[couch-house]

essential part of my stc sonic characterization is that hes gay and so so repressed about it. hes got some internalized shit to work through and it really bothers him when gossip rags start suggesting he's gay for not publicly dating any women. so he does that. for funsies, i designed sonic's six comphet girlfriends, and yeah, he's a piece of shit to all of them.

btw those lines next to them are sonics relative height. short king.

[nomstellations]

something i've been thinking about A LOT lately is a pred that just. constantly hints at and teases about eating someone they're interested in without actually doing it. a few lines about how good they'd taste or how delicious they look here, maybe a couple moments where they pin them to a wall and make them listen to their grumbling stomach there...but they don't actually do it, at least not yet they don't. they just build up the anticipation and dread in their prey...

[starryjkoo]

It’s really funny when people are like - but JK hung out with x person 10 times this year! - and it’s like, okay, and then he chose to spend the next 18 months, 547~ days with Jimin? 😭 You might really want to rethink that argument friend. JK had other options, other people he could have gone with, other programs he could have tried for, a later date he could have enlisted on, and yet he chose JM, and vice versa. They didn’t even have to enlist with anyone, they could have gone individually like everyone else in the group. No one was expecting them to enlist together. And this is also probably the furthest thing there is from company content or fanservice considering we’re not even going to be seeing them for the next 18 months and I doubt they’ll even talk about their time in the military. It’s just so silly. “JK and JM were never together this year!” buddy, they’re literally together RIGHT NOW 😭

[zinniapetals]

seeing how Atsushi was in the orphanage his whole life, I bet he went absolutely crazy for train stamps; like taking Ranpo out to the train and noticing the stamp booth and asking 'whats that?' and Ranpo explaining the system and Atsushi immediately buying a notebook to get his first stamp! (he downloads the app for the local line stamps which offer digital stamps) then him freaking out that the metro does stamps as well?? cue him always agreeing to go out with Ranpo and the other Agency members taking him along and bringing a page of the train stamp if they ever leave Yokohama without him

[azidoazide-art]

memorialization of a couple favs from my first (failed) Nuzlocke run. loved these guys

[some-pers0n]

Adderall isn't enough I need a 700lbs grand piano precariously dangling 30ft above my head in order to get me to write

[bugtoast]

Post-canon II au where the characters live in a gay little commune (suitcase uses her money to build a tiny town on the island) on their gay little island (Inanimate island) dreamed up by a gay little man (Mephone4)

Call it Baxterville cause none of them could think of a name, and lightbulb was like “lets name it after my crab :]”

[fiendishartist2]

2 years post-canon designs anyone?

[crimson-constellations]

Lil zuko i drew on my notebook yesterday

[thesesoldierboysarebi]

Will mostly be reblogging for a while I think, but I’m gonna be real, 70 percent of my reason for making this blog in the hopes of writing was that I noticed a big chunk of CoD x reader posts on this hellsite have readers with like…concerningly low ages. There’s a lot of reader character minor-coding going on, and it’s weirdling me out (no shade to young writers, I know a lot of the reason is that a majority of CoD fanfic writers are 18-25 here, which, yk, fair that you wanna see self-inserts with similar ages).

But as I said, it gives me the ick, so if/when I end up writing x reader, I wanna go ahead and make it clear that I will not be writing a reader character in a romantic/sexual position BELOW the age of 25 at most. Most of the Call of Duty men are, like, 28 at the youngest, and I’m more inclined to write reader characters with matching ages, especially afab readers.

In other words? I’m gonna write milfs and dilfs. I’m gonna write top!reader. I’m gonna write unhinged women that leave the various men of TF141 screaming crying throwing up. I will NOT be writing virginal, innocent, or overly naive reader characters; I do not do minor-coding. Y’all have been warned.

[inamagicalhallucination]

did i already share it? well ill share it again ig

dazai after oda's death wandering around yokohama, a mess becuz someone so precious to him died, unable to understand the very human feelings he's feeling, perhaps feeling something so strongly for someone for the first time (at least whilst being aware that he is)

its night time now and he's crumpled up in some alley way not knowing what to do or how to process anything when someone calls out to him

he ignores it

they come near him

he reaches for his gun, angry at being approached by who ever the fuck-

"are you okay?" the voice asks, and dazai's so caught off guard even tho he shouldnt be - there r only two ppl after all - ppl who dont care and ppl who ask if ur okay to pretend that they do

oda was always an exception

he thinks he says fine and that should be the end of it and it is becuz the voice leaves and dazai tries to go back to breathing

except it comes back a while later with the familiar rustle of plastic bags and suddenly someone's in front of him, not touching, but close enough dazai cant ignore him, his hand tightens on his gun

"you look like you havent eaten" and in front of him, in a plastic bag, riceballs, water, and napkins

he stares

"you're well dressed" the voice says "so you probably have somewhere to go to" he doesnt "but you look hurt, covered in blood. if it was one of my students i would want someone to help them"

when dazai looks up the person in front of him doesn't look older than him

he's got long blond hair tied up, glasses, dressed in a black button up, a tan coat, and a stern look on his face

"i dont" dazai says even though he doesnt know why he's telling this strange man anything - but its true he has no where to go (chuuya's? but something stopped him before he could; ango's? that... if ango had been here... maybe oda wouldn't have-)

"dont what" dazai doesn't reply but the man seems to understand - his face falters for a second

"youngins these days, they never plan out anything. why would you spend money on expensive looking clothes and not rent out a place? my first priority was an apartment! i bought non necessary clothes after" the man scolds gesturing to his coat, dazai wants to reach for his gun again "whatever, you can stay with me for the night - i have a spare couch! this is a one time thing though! you better rent out a hotel room tomorrow!"

dazai stares at him in surprise, at his offer, his contradictory tone, voice, and words or simply the fact that someone can show such... kindness - dazai isnt sure

he doesn't remember agreeing - but he must have

must have agreed and followed the man back to his apartment, must have cleaned up the blood (odaodaoda) in his bathroom, must have eaten his food, drank his water and fallen asleep on his couch because thats where he is in the morning

its still dark out when dazai wakes up in an unfamiliar place and remembers the man

he has a feeling that the man will scold him for not immediately finding a place but let him stay for longer, but he cant stand to be here any longer

he needs to leave

go far far away from oda, the mafia, this man who showed him kindness for no reason as if oda was still here watching, making sure - he needs to go

there's only a brief hesitation when he sees the man's coat, so familiar to the one oda wears, hanging by the door, easy to grab and leave

he doesn't feel guilt when he takes it with him

he thinks of the man a few times here and there in the two years he spends wandering, waiting

he meets him again eventually, walking into the ada office with a fake backstory - he's there with the person he was told was the boss

when he looks over his eyes linger on the coat, a touch of something but not recognition

this is fine with dazai who puts on his best happy mask

"hey there! i'm here for a job interview! my name's dazai"

"Ah yes. My name is Fukuzawa, I am the president of the Agency. This is one of my employees, your future coworker if it all works out, Kunikida"