#idk i want to take requests?

[sillymandan]

wade's winning :)

[fanfic-gremlin-ft-trauma]

i make my return with the humble offering of batfam content

[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

[thestirringpot]

Anyone with a carton of milk, perhaps? Milk and milk related items are good for figuring out what to draw :> unless you lactose-imagination-intolerent (idk what that means but here you go a whacky suggestion) jdiajickekshfjfjdk

it started off so innocently... and it went downhill fast.

id thought id do a carton of milk study but then i was afraid it would be a lil bland .. so i searched up 'milk advertisement' and OH BOY DID THAT GET WEIRD ...

so i present you... moon persuading you to drink milk... im sorry, the inspo is under the cut.. im so sorry

the 'got milk campaign' was a strange way of advertising milk...

[mc-tummy-blur]

I’ve been so busy with other stuff but I really want to get back to drawing WHF art so I went and cleaned up a wip. Not sure how I feel with some of the angles but I just needed to get this out of my system

Based off of this clip

Click for better quality

Check my pinned post to see links on how you can help the people in Palestine

[kiwi]

This is going to sound weird but in relation to your last post, when I had terrible art block and the joy felt leeched out of making art, drawing fetish art is what actually got me creating again. It felt fresh and fun and genuinely like playing instead of forcing myself to make art because “that’s just what I do” So idk, if you have a fetish try making some art of that and see what happens? Or ignore this.

genuinely i have been considering this lol

[achillean-knight]

Desperately need Michael angst. Pretty pleaseeeeee?

The Bite of 87

[sososcareds]

CUTMAN!

on it boss

[silverware-is-interesting]

I'm sick rn but hey. i can still draw. with only mild inconvenience!!

i fucked up eucerin a bit but i think it's good for using no ref

here. have some ms pain too

[reginamillls]

I work hard on my icons is the thing, and I know other creators do as well, they're small edits but they're still edits

It's finding the perfect screen shot, its lighting and coloring and even more!

then we put them nicely onto a rebloggable post, give people different color options and shapes, throw in lil graphics to give it a certain flair

All. For. Fucking. Free.

the least you can do is like the post you take your icon from, the best thing you can do is reblog them

I stopped making icons for months because my posts would get like 13 notes (most of them likes) and yet I'd see the icon be used by more than 13 people - NONE OF WHICH LIKED OR REBLOGGED THE POSTS

I've even seen people take my icons (again who didn't like or reblog the original post) and edit them and use them for something else WITHOUT MY PERMISSION or give me credit

its exhausting, please support the content creators on this website

[cin3maa]

Hey!! This is just a message to all of the people on your blog…..

LISTEN UP SHITHEADS. Cin is being nice enough to accept requests from you guys. She’s taking the time out of her day to draw stuff for you guys FOR FREE. She’s not getting any payback for her labor except for a few compliments and internet attention. No money. No treats. No nothing. The least you guys can do is respect her and read her boundaries. If you aren’t going to respect her then you don’t deserve to get free art in the first place. Spamming her with requests isn’t going to change her mind if you’re requesting something she already stated she wasn’t going to draw. All you’re getting yourself is a big wide opportunity for her to block you.

Respect my little sister. I don’t care if you hate on me for being a rude, harsh bastard. I will not tolerate anyone being an asshole to her.

thank u sm bro.. i really hate blocking people but i literally have no choice when ppl keep like !!! bothering me!!!!???

i dont want to have to stop taking requests altogether but it doesnt take that long to just click the 'keep reading' and skim the top few words!!!

thank you to everyone who does read it i appreciate u guys sm and im hugging u (if thats ok if not then im fist bumping u)

[cutie-lumi]

ATTENTION BOOBA ENJOYERS!!!

i made an account to post BOOBA! it's @lumi-cherries

feel free to send me asks about femstars boobas and things like that! i'll be posting more suggestive content there as well, so if ur over 18 and wanna see some BOOBA art then follow me there😌💖 thats it thank u for ur attention

[satorimachine]

:// com_z edits (for funsies) :// all f2u with credit Hey why cant i make the whole thing green. every time i try it just blacks out the letter to the left of the one i fix. i give up

[majorproblems77]

Breathe again

tw - Mentions of torture, aftermath of such torture, I bully sky and this is the result

If you'd have asked Warriors a year ago about the sounds he hated to hear it would be the sounds of his people screaming. Their cries haunted his nightmares for longer days than he could count.

Now?

The sound of his brother crying, made that list. The sound of them breaking down into apologies that they had to come back for him.

Today it was Sky. The skyloftian's Hands clawed into his tunic as tears welled and snot dripped from his nose. Rocking him from side to side he kept his breathing slow and steady.

Sky, the infallible. Sky was the one with who everyone could shoulder their burdens. And now Sky Was crying in his arms.

The others were here, nearby. Sounding off gentle sounds of encouragement at the skyloftian. Sounds like finality, finally letting him relax and breathe again.

He'd been taken hostage, tortured by the cultest of Hyrule's world. When they'd found him he was bloodied and bruised. He couldn't speak and was in all words. Dead to the world. The pain in his eyes.

The captain knew that pain.

Which is why he was here. Holding Sky tightly and promising to never let him go. Promising to never let him fall into the darkness underground. So that he could always see his namesake that made the man feel so safe.

The captain was never seen as a hugger by the others. That usually befell their resident skyloftian after all. But right now. Seeing him bundled underneath Twilight's pelt, his own Royal scarf and the sailcloth made him think. Just how vulnerable the man was.

How they all were.

Sky was all of twenty. Twenty. And he'd gone through so much to get to where he was. Brought his people to the surface and changed the course of Hylian history forever.

When he was twenty he was in the middle of a civil war. Changing the course of history... There seemed to be a theme here.

Sky took a shuddering breath as he curled inward. The movement made the captain grip him tighter as he could hear the shuddering cries of the man below him. The babbles of apologies long since faded.

the captain didn't feel the need to speak as he weaved his scarf around the skyloftian again. Settling more against the tree he was leaning against. Tightly holding the skyloftian as he settled into a sleep brought on by an adrenaline crash.

Sky might have been twenty, but right now he reminded the captain of a small child he had found in the depths of the castle ruins. Cold and broken he carried the boy back to camp where Impa had taken him to the castle, where he remains to this day.

As sky's body relaxed as he fell into a slumber, breathing deeply. The captains did too. Trying not to make the skyloftian feel too restricted. His eyes looked up to Time who had settled beside them, and placed a hand into the Skyloftian hair, a gesture they often used to calm the skyloftian down.

They remained like this for the remainder of the night, one by one the rest of the chain had joined them, wind and four draping themselves over the skyloftian while the rest huddled around the sides of them.

At least the skyloftian seemed to be breathing properly again.

[offorestsongs]

more fem!lilyarrow because i really wanted to draw their full outfits. and also give Rook a hat. it really bothered me that i forgot to give her a hat the first time

(and yes. fem!Lysander would be taller than normal <3)

[moeblob]

I vote for Argenti! I hope you feel better soon!

Thank you ! I do feel much better (though I admit I hurt a little for very much my fault reasons but it's mostly manageable through light pain meds).

Take an Argenti o7 I got lazy and didn't draw the roses I was gonna draw to the left so there is now a wide open blank spot.