Tumgik
#angst with an ending
folk-ever-lore · 2 years
Text
Abandoned
“Are you kidding me?” She yelled, finding it hard to believe that someone could really be that stubborn. But Bruce Wayne always did find a way to surpass expectations didn’t he? “I know you don’t like me and all that, which is your call, but those are your sons. Are you really going to abandon them like that?”
“I’m not abandoning them,” Bruce hissed, angry spitting from his words. It was clear to anyone in the room, even if it was just the two of them at that point in time, that he couldn’t stand her. Although he’d actually had decent reasoning to hate her in the past, he had no such reasons now. If he could get on with Harley and Ivy then he could get on with her. “You’re a villain. You’re just telling me this in order to distract me so that you can go through with another one of your plans.”
“Goddammit,” Marinette yelled, disbelief showing evidently on her face. But he wasn’t looking, didn’t care. All he cared about was himself. As always. How anyone could ever remotely consider him a good parent was beyond her. She was very glad that Dick had taken on the role of parenting Damian, because hell if Bruce had ever done it. “In case you haven’t noticed I’m dating Damian, one of your sons, one of the good guys in this scenario, and I haven’t hurt anyone who wasn’t one of your rogues in over a year. You’re just too stubborn to see past your big head to see that your kids need help.”
He shook his head. She’d made false attempts to change in the past, only to later betray them and he wasn’t going to start believing her and her lies now. All that would do is put him at risk for further betrayal. “No,” he said harshly, typing on his computer, doing nothing in particular just to show that he didn’t need to pay attention to her. To show that he was the superior one out of the two of them, that he didn’t need to listen to her. “This is what you do. You lie, you gain our truth, you betray us, you steal and the cycle starts again. I can’t trust that you won’t do the same again now. And I can’t believe you’d come up with such a ridiculous lie. My sons would never put themselves in a situation where we were the only ones that would have the power to save them.”
“So you’re not going to help me save them then?”
“I will not support you in anything that you will use to betray us once again with.”
“I thought you were all about giving your villains chances for redemption.”
“I am,” he agreed. “Just not when they’ve exploited those chances as many times as you have.
“Fine then,” she hissed, venom dripping from her words, begging to kill, to attack. “I’ll save them myself.”
***
She may have been anxious to go and recover her friends, and her boyfriend, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have common sense. She had to take the time to formulate a plan rather than rushing in immediately. Her first plan of action was to head down to her nearest safe house and use the resources she had there to help her search and narrow down where they could be.
And who had them. But she could guess who that was though, there was only one person who’d semi-recently broken out of Arkham and hated their entire family more than anyone else did. Who else would it be but the Joker? No one else would dare kidnap the Bat Family, or at least not that many members of it at one time.
She grabbed anything she thought she may need to rescue them, including but not limited to some of the guns Jason had left over from one of the he’d visited to get away from Bruce (those would certainly be helpful if she wanted to shoot Bruce is he ever showed up), a spare miraculous to wear (but hopefully not to use) incase something happened to the cat one and some bataarangs that she totally hadn’t stolen from the Batcave. She also decided to pick up some of Damian’s daggers that he’d left with her in case anything ever happened to his main stash.
After that she sat down at her computer and began her work on finding her friends; she wouldn’t leave Damian, or Tim, or Jason, or Dick at the hands of the Joker - not like Bruce had. Especially not after what happened last time Jason had been locked in a warehouse with the psychopath. She didn’t have much time to spare, and she wasn’t willing to waste a second of it.
First, she looked into the many warehouses in Gotham. It was the classic villain place to hold hostages, she’d certainly held a few hostages in a warehouse before. There were a few Joker branded ones that he tended to have used a lot in the past, but after quickly checking those over Marinette soon decided that he would have found a whole new place to store the bats he’d managed to collect today, so that he’d have more time to play with them.
After what felt like far too long, she finally found where the Joker had taken them. A warehouse on the east side of Gotham. It had been abandoned for the last couple of years, but every so often some street kids would find it and use it for a bit, so she’d placed cameras inside so that she could help any that made their way to the warehouse.
She may have been considered one of Gotham City’s Rogues, but that didn’t mean she was a completely horrible person (even if Bruce couldn’t see that). After all, she’d been a hero for years, she couldn’t have done that if she didn’t care about helping people.
It was even one of the main reasons why she’d ended up being classed as one of the many rogues of Gotham. She’d moved to the city in order to make a difference and help the people that lived there, but when she’d tried Batman had only told her that he didn’t accept help from outside heroes. So she’d started using the cat miraculous instead of her normal ladybug earrings, started going by Lady Noire instead and stole what she could from the obnoxiously rich and gave to the street kids who needed the money to survive.
Of course, over the past couple of years, she’d used some of the money she’d stolen on herself, but that’s all Bruce focused on when he was making her out to be the bad guy. Honestly, it hadn’t even been that much. Only enough to support her in the months when she wasn’t getting as many commissions.
Not that the oh so great Batman had ever noticed what she’d really been up to, all he’d cared about was that she was a thief in ‘his’ city. His kids had figured out what she had been doing though, and then soon became her friends. Or, in Damian’s case, became her boyfriend -  much to Bruce’s disgust.
With the information she needed to go save her friends, Marinette called her transformation, grabbed her supplies and headed over to the warehouse as fast as possible.
She couldn’t be too late. She couldn’t be. She refused to be too late. She refused to be.
If she was too late … she didn’t want to think about what could have happened in the time it had taken her to find them without the superior resources that Bruce kept locked away in the Batcave just because he was a controlling, prejudiced asshole.
She wouldn’t be too late. She wouldn’t be.
She’d arrived. But was she too late?
The door to the warehouse had obviously been locked, but she had no time to waste trying to undo it using the ‘proper’ Batman approved techniques. “Cataclysm!” She muttered as quickly as she could in order to avoid the Joker noticing, calling her power to destroy the door as quickly and efficiently as possible.
As the door crumpled into dust, she moved to a blind area in the cameras to transform and recharge Plagg. “Eat quickly,” she begged the kwami, “we don’t have much time to spare.” And soon enough Lady Noire was ready to rescue those that had been abandoned by the oh so great Batman.
She didn’t exactly sneak in as the collapse of the door had caused a bit of noise but she was as quiet as she could be, but it seemed like it was safe to say that if the Joker hadn’t really noticed her at all, he wasn’t paying too much attention to anything but his captives.
Dick, Jason, Tim and Damian had all been tied up and hung from the ceiling with their bodies tied with rope, so that they didn’t stand a chance of escape on their own. That didn’t matter anymore. She was going to save them, unlike Bruce.
Marinette hated to think of how the Joker could have gotten his hands on all of them. What had that mad man done to those she loved? How had he hurt them? She was going to kill him (and Bruce) if she got the chance.
She used the darkness of the miraculous to almost blend into the shadows so that she could get closer to her friends without alerting the ignorant Joker that she was there.
“Damian,” she whispered as she got closer using the baton provided by the miraculous to carry her voice upwards, quiet enough so that only he could hear her. “I’m going to get you down from there but I need you ready to land safely and be ready to fight while I get the others down. Can you do that?”
There was as big a nod as he could manage while tied up without alerting the Joker.
“Excellent.”
She brought the baton back down so that she could hold onto the end before elongating it to  use it to propel herself upwards, to Damian’s height up in the air. Pulling one of her boyfriend’s daggers from her suit, she used it to cut the rope holding him up. Once free, Damian slid down her baton in order to make a safer descent to the floor and pulled one of his daggers from his utility belt and made a start on attacking the Joker.
Meanwhile, Marinette focused her attention on freeing the others. First Tim, then Jason and finally Dick. When she moved onto Dick, it was easy for her to tell that he’d been injured the most, probably because he’d been focusing on protecting the others than himself like usual,  so she made sure to keep hold of him as she freed him, and brought him down towards the ground by changing the height of her baton once his ropes had been cut.
“You’re safe,” she repeated to Dick when he looked at her with a confused look on his face. “You’re safe, Tim’s safe, Jason’s safe, Damian’s safe. You’re all safe now. He can’t hurt you.”
“Thank you,” he managed to say slowly as she sat him against the wall so that he didn’t take part in the fight with an obviously very broken leg.
She nodded, “of course,” before heading off to join the fight.
Once everything was over and done with, the Joker sent back to Arkham and those she cared about as safe as they could be, she got help from Damian to carry Dick over to her safe house. It was much nearer than the stupid Batcave, and hell like she was going to let any of them head over there anytime soon.
“We should go to the Batcave to get medical assistance,” Tim had argued when she’d told them where they were going to spend the night, at least the night longer if she had anything to say about it.
“Not a chance in hell,” she’d hissed. “You will go back to that cave over my dead body.”
Damian had simply sighed and inquired, “What has father done now?”
“He abandoned you,” she admitted after a couple of seconds of glares from them all. “I told him what was happening and he refused to help.”
“He abandoned us, what a big surprise,” Jason retorted. “What else is new?”
“Come on,” Marinette sighed, leading them in the direction of her safe house. “Let’s get you all to safety.”
345 notes · View notes
nkogneatho · 3 months
Text
Toji has never once shown his vulnerability towards the scar he has on his lips. He never even talks about them. But you know he is somewhere insecure about it when he stops and stares in the mirror while shaving, green eyes scanning the scar. Or when he purposely rests the right side of his face in his hand so the palm hides it. He thought he was being subtle with it, but you noticed. You noticed how deep down he was scared to even talk about it, let alone wear it with pride. That scar was a nightmare and he hated how it was visible to him, to everyone in the most obvious place.
"Toji?" you cooed from behind, walking into the hall while he was watching TV.
"Yes, baby?"
"I bought a new gloss, and i want to test if it's transfer proof."
"Don't know what that is but c'mere, lovie. Sit on my lap while you do it." You smiled and plopped yourself on his laps. Before he could finally look at you, you pressed your tinted glossy lips at the end of his lips where the scar settled.
he tried opening his lips to catch yours but you didn't really kiss his lips. he was so confused why you were pecking one spot.
*one peck. two peck. three peck. smooches tightly*
"D'ya know? I love this." You ran your thumb over the skin. "It makes me realize how strong you are, Toji. Sooo strong. Please don't hide it. It makes you look more handsome." He couldn't form words. The sudden love bomb opened a can of bad memories. Yet, oddly, he was comforted by your words. For a man so big, he was still weak over you and your love. Because you determined his vulnerability. Which is why your relationship was perfect. He is not the kind of man to be vocal about his issues but you read him like an open book. You understand him before he even has to spell it out.
Toji rested his forehead against yours, inhaling and exhaling with his eyes closed. God. He feels so in love, it kills him. What would he do without you? Everyone picked his flesh till it was just his heart exposed in the dirt, still struggling to beat. But you found it. Not to pick anymore flesh(there was none left). But to rip open your ribs and keep that heart locked in you forever. Safe and sound.
8K notes · View notes
imfinereallyy · 8 months
Text
you can pry happy endings from my cold-dead hands. It can be the most heart stopping, gut wrenching fic that has every existed and I will read every drop of it if I get my happy ending. I have had enough painful endings in real life, give me happy in my fantasy world. It can be at the last second, it can be a single sentence, even a single word. Give me all the angst and hurt in the world for 500,000 words, but please give me the comfort I need in the ending. please and thank you.
15K notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
Friendship never dies in FNAF..
5K notes · View notes
ambrosiagoldfish · 2 months
Note
I've never sent a request before, but I'm fiending for more adam, like anything, anything at all
Benefit of the doubt
Tumblr media
Adam x 3rd Spouse! Reader
Viewer discretion is advised
Warnings: Angst(?), Not exactly fluff at the end but it gets better, typical Adam TW’s, reader low-key high-key has a complex about being loved, this is set way before the show, and Gn! Reader. (Also Y/n isn’t used, which also surprised me, the author, LMAO)
Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
Request Box: Open
Word count: 1760
A/N: Hi! Thanks for the request! I haven’t had a chance to write something that was originally my own idea in a while, so this was very refreshing! I’ve had this idea since I’ve watched the show so I hope you enjoy it!
I’m entirely up for making a small series from this oneshot, but I would need to know y’all’s opinion on it! (So don’t feel scared to let me know if you want some more of this idea in my Request box/the replies on this post!!)
Also Adam may be slightly OOC but please just chalk it up to him not yet getting his ego’s dick sucked 24/7
Anyways, I hope you all enjoy, let me know if you do!
Proofread but of course could have left mistakes!
You’ve existed for almost all of human existence, Almost.
You were the 4th being to be created during the time of Eden. But unlike the other 3, you weren’t human. In fact, you technically never lived before. An honestly hopeless existence, yet it was so beautiful in every way. But for what purpose? Well…
You were created shortly after Eve ate the apple, before she and eventually Adam committed the first act of sin that caused evil to latch onto humanity like a leech.
The reason for your existence was simple. To be Adam’s new spouse, except for when after he died. From the very moment Eve bit the fruit of temptation, it was already decided she would hold no place in heaven. Adam was given mercy due to him not possessing any knowledge of the fruit Eve had shared with him, he trusted her wholeheartedly. Which is exactly why heaven gave him mercy… no, pity would be a better choice of words.
Upon your creation you learned immediately of the happenings before your existence. About Lilith and Eve, and about Lucifer
And so, after Adam and Eve were casted away from the Garden, they continued to live their lives, fostering the existence of mankind for the rest of time. And when they eventually died, Adam was given pity while Eve was thrown to the wayside, the vast unknown.
You thought it was finally your time to experience existence with the one you loved, the one you were made for. Of course you never would know life as he did but surely your life never-after life could be just as meaningful as his.
How excited you were, how completely enamored by the thought of it. But there was a problem with that, Adam had grown into a new person, he was meant to of course, he was human. But he had grown selfish, abhorrent… insecure.
You understood why, to be betrayed by not one but two of his wives for the same person. You couldn’t possibly imagine what he could be feeling. Before you were to meet your future husband, Sera informed you that he had asked for a mask, and once on, he has refused to take it off.
That didn’t bother you, it’s irrelevant to your love for him. You've only heard descriptions of his features. Short Brown hair, gold eyes, bushy eyebrows, some scruff on his chin. All in all, he sounded perfectly fine, ordinary even. But even then it’s his choice to wear the mask, so you’ll respect it.
Finally, the time he arrived in heaven, and when Sera finally introduced you, his new spouse, the one to whom would be by his side for the rest of forever.
He rejected you outright.
“What?” Your breath hitched as you stuttered over the word, the sharp inhale of your lungs through your mouth flicked through the air.
Sera looked just as shocked as you but she quickly regained her composure “What is the meaning of this Adam?”
“If you think I’m going to let my life get fucked over by another one of your “gifts” well, you’ve got another thing coming!” He crossed his arms and shook his head defyingly. “I’ve already learned my lesson with those last 2 bitches.”
“Adam I’m sorry that happened to you but I would never-“ almost like lightning his finger shot to your mouth, shushing you.
“Save it, Sweetcheeks, I really don’t care what you have to say, so just stay there and look pretty, k?” His hand fell and grabbed the sides of your face, squishing your cheeks together, his LED mask flashing a sharp smile.
You saddeningly looked down at the clouds below you.
“Adam!” Sera’s voice sounded through the air, still soft but firm, she continued, placing a hand on your shoulder, “Divine judgment allowed you to be the first human soul in heaven, so I gave you the benefit of the doubt. I expect you to give your new spouse that same grace.”
Slowly your eyes looked up at Sera with a soft smile. Adam only groaned “Ugh, Fine but don’t be fuxking annoying, capiche?” You nod your head quickly.
“Very good, glad we have it settled.” Sera gives a quick smile, “now, I have some business to take care of so I’ll leave you two alone to get to know one another” With that, Sera flew away leaving the both of you alone.
The silence was thick in the air, the only sound being the occasional wind breeze blowing past. The sunlight creeps in through the clouds painting an orange sky above you both. In every sense of the word, it was perfect.
It was almost funny. You had waited so long to finally meet him, your true love, the one you were made for. All the things you dreamed about, the laughs you’d have together, the warm embrace of the person who you loved. But now… you didn’t know what to say…
“I’m… happy to finally meet you.” Your voice is quiet, almost non-audible. “I’ve been waiting for you since… well, forever…”
He doesn’t respond. He seems to be transfixed on something below you both. You train your eyes on whatever he’s watching only to see the dark cavernous abyss below you. Finally he breaks his silence.
“The fuck is that?” He asked pointing down, a sound of genuine intrigue hidden behind his abrasive voice
“That’s hell?” You stated confused “where would-be sinners will go to be punished, didnt you k-“ you suddenly realized that perhaps Adam really didn’t know what hell was. It was only created relatively recently, after Eve and Him ate the apple, of course he wouldn’t know. “it’s also where Lucifer-“
“Don’t fucking say his name.” Adam spoke, his voice rough in his speech. LED mask putting a harsh frown on his face. “Let’s get one thing straight M”Kay babe, if you’re my “new spouse” that’s something you should remember.” The “new spouse” was said with a tone clearly meant to mock you.
“Sorry…”
“Ugh, It’s fine, just don’t do it again.” He groaned before a wicked smile crept onto his mask “Sooo, that means he’s going to be stuck with all the wasteful beings of existence, HA fuxkin’ hilarious. Guess that makes them the losers and us the Winners!”
His laugh filled the air, the sound was like music to your ears, sure maybe it wasn’t really what you’d hoped he’d fine funny, but you loved it all the same but eventually his laugh died down
Silence again… in admits of all of it you suddenly was sparked with a thought “oh!” Adam looked confused at the random exclamation. “I had almost forgotten… I brought you something, as a welcome gift or was it a nice to meet you gift? Both? Eh, it doesn’t matter but the point is-“ you suddenly snap your fingers.
Golden light began shining, the light seemed like liquid hot magma as it moved and molded slowly into a shape. Light seemed to be overlapping and churning into itself, forming your desired outcome. With one final snap of your fingers, the gleaming gold liquid took hold, and quickly hardened to a solid.
The object that had formed quickly fell down, landing in your arms with a light thud.
“I’m still learning this creation stuff, so I’m sorry if it’s not perfect but-“ you hold out the object in your arms as an invitation to grab it “I learned from Sera that you liked to play guitar when you were alive, so I thought you might like to have one here…”
Adam looked at the instrument in your hands. The base color was gold, the neck was pearly white with gold strings. To be honest it looked more like a harp then anything, like if a guitar and a harp had a baby.
Silence again. Did he not like it? Did he hate it? You go to pull it back to you and apologize when suddenly it’s ripped out from your hands.
“Holyshit, this is sick as Fuck!” Adam immediately started playing some rifts on the new guitar. The sound wasn’t what you were expecting but you guess Sera was right about his talent with the instrument. The whole time his mask had a wide and sharp smile as he mimicked guitar sounds with his voice, the occasional laugh leaving his mouth.
“I’m really glad you like it” you say, a sigh of relief leaving your body.
Adam looked at you, one you missed. He saw how relieved you were, how nice you were being. No person who supposedly loved him ever gifted him something, well, one other did. Someone he trusted and loved more than everyone, anyone. But look how that ended, with them being removed from the garden, away from an eternity of happiness until he died. All from someone giving him what he thought was nothing but love, a gift.
But he could see that this was different, you were different. When Eve gave him the apple, she didn’t explain what it was or why she wanted him to eat it, even when he asked her she didn’t explain. But with you, you had not only given him something you knew he liked but also expressed the reason behind it. Yes, you were different, even Adam could see it.
“Anyways, thanks for the axe, I guess…” Adam for the first time was stunned, but quickly he continued “What was the thing that Sera chick said about me and “divine judgment” or whatever the fuck? That she gave me the “benefit of the doubt…”
You were a bit confused but continued listening, “I guess I should at least try to give you a chance, since you got me this sick ass guitar an’ shit.” Your face lit up, you about began to speak before you were, once again, shushed “B-B-But-” his finger tapped your lips with each repeated syllable ”-only a chance. If you betray me like those last 2 bitches then you’re done, got it?”
To say you were overjoyed would be an understatement, a smile quickly plastered across your face as you quickly nodded your head
“Alright good, so uh, what do ya say about showing me the best places to get a bite to eat around here, I could really go for some ribs right about now.”
“ I’d… love to, thank you Adam”
“Yeah don’t mention it Sweetcheeks” Adam quickly wrapped his arm around your shoulder and you two began walking.
Maybe you will get your eternity of happiness.you can only pray you do.
2K notes · View notes
arminsumi · 6 months
Text
「 🔴 RECORDING 」
Tumblr media
found footage of satoru's student years... recorded on the camcorder that he carried around everywhere.
warnings : heavy angst, fluff, implied death, not proofread
Tumblr media
[ the first footage is one minute long. there's two blue eyes widening comedically on the screen. the resolution is low and the audio is tinny. ]
"Ooo it works... well hellooooooo there... i'm... GOJO!! SATORU!! and this is... suguuuuruu getooooo... oh look at that walk, you're such a model."
[ the camera is on suguru, who's walking with bad posture. he doesn't like the camera. ]
[ he has his old hairstyle; this was recorded before his hair was long enough to be in the bun style. he hides his face from the camera. ]
"... aw, he's a model that doesn't like cameras. anyways... this is the beautiful... STUNNING... hot... talented... playing-hard-to-get... (haha kidding)... y/n~"
[ the camera pans to you. you can hear the flirty tone in satoru's voice. ]
"... we are currently walking through the gates of hell..."
[ the camera pans to the school. the resolution clears for a second to show a blue sky with slowly drifting clouds. ]
"okay. we have arrived in hell; look there's satan himself—"
[ the camera pans to yaga. ]
[ the footage ends with yaga confiscating satoru's camera and scolding him. ]
Tumblr media
[ a video starts off shaky. the camera is dropped on the train floor and suguru sighs. ]
"satoru...... did you just break it after having it for one day?"
[ satoru picks it up and gives a toothy smile to the screen. ]
"nah. she's all good. not even a scratch. ooh... suguru we look so hot. and look how hot y/n is... she's so scandalous — sittin' next to me on the train. this proximity's got me sweatin', baby... kidding kidding... don't gimme that look!"
Tumblr media
[ suguru gives the middle finger to the camera and satoru's iconic laugh sounds beautiful even through the crap audio quality. ]
Tumblr media
[ there's a 3 minute video that's half-corrupted of a party happening in your apartment... of just you, satoru, suguru and shoko. lykke li's "i follow rivers" is playing loudly, satoru is screaming the lyrics in broken english and suguru is recording you and him dancing like maniacs. shoko is offering her cigarette to the camera and blowing smoke into the lens. ]
Tumblr media
[ there's a 25 second clip of satoru aggressively kissing you until you laugh. ]
Tumblr media
[ there is a photo of satoru crouching to pet a cat. he's holding an umbrella. ]
Tumblr media
[ there is corrupted footage of laughter and a flicker of the video shows a tiny pot on a stove with ramen cooking in it. ]
Tumblr media
[ there's a photo of you, satoru, suguru and shoko. you and satoru are looking at each other like lovebirds. suguru is giving the finger to the camera. shoko is laughing with her eyes closed. ]
Tumblr media
[ a long video of satoru waking up in a hotel bed. he looks like he just woke up. he blinks at the camera, bleary-eyed and cute with puffy lips and messy hair. ]
"goodmornin'."
[ his morning rasp is strong. ]
"i'm awake... but miss sleepy head and mister sleepy head are not, as you can see..."
[ he zooms in on your face. you're laid at his right, and suguru is laid at his left. ]
"here's the sleeping angel... and here's the sleeping dragon... anyways... WAKEY WAKEYYYYYYYYY!!! IT'S A BRIGHT NEW DAY!!!"
[ suguru's wakeful groan sounds groggy and disturbed by satoru's loud, piercing wake-up call. you scrunch your face as you wake up, seemingly out of a dream. ]
"satoru... what the hell is the matter with you..."
[ it's an ultra close-up shot of your nose as you mumble this. ]
"i was lonely being awake by myself, gosh. you're so mean!"
[ he experiences a voice crack. suguru gives a sleepy, murderous look at his best friend. ]
"satoru... i swear i'm gonna throw that camera into traffic one day."
[ suguru's mumbling into his pillow too softly to be taken seriously. ]
"wanna say that to the camera?"
[ suguru looks grouchy. ]
"i'll kill you."
"WOW... buddy, this is evidence if you ever do kill me... the police will find this footage... 'n put your FLAT ass in jail. aw... y/n fell back asleep look look... aw she's so fucking precious."
[ suguru and satoru admire you for a bit. there rest of the footage is corrupted. ]
Tumblr media
[ footage of a breakfast in the same hotel. sunny side eggs are zoomed-in on. and there's only eggs. ]
"we're too broke to buy bacon, isn't that cool?"
[ satoru gets a nice view up his nose as he tilts the camera to himself. then he turns the camera to you, who's sleepily eating this miserable breakfast. ]
"... so we just have eggs to eat... heyyyy hot babe..."
[ satoru flirts with you and you roll your eyes in response, smiling and chewing on your egg, fork in one hand. ]
"wanna hear a joke?"
"mhm."
"if you ever broke up with me, what would you call me?"
"an idiot?"
"your eggs."
[ you groan and stop eating because his pun was so awful, but you've got a big smile on your face and satoru is laughing heartily. ]
[ the video ends with you and satoru leaning in for a big kiss and a sleepy suguru walking into the room, itching his tummy under his shirt. ]
Tumblr media
[ there's a clip of you, satoru, suguru and shoko yelling happy new year and watching fireworks explode into blazing, brilliant colors. suguru winks at the camera as you hold it and you giggle flirtatiously back. there's clearly tension between you two that neither satoru nor shoko acknowledge in the moment, because the fireworks distract them. ]
Tumblr media
[ there's footage of you, satoru and suguru kissing. it ends with satoru kissing the camera as a joke. ]
Tumblr media
[ most of the footage is corrupted after this. in the next video, satoru seems a bit older. ]
Tumblr media
[ there's footage of a solo satoru, who's been enlightened and and burdened with being the strongest. he's on a mission alone, keeping the camcorder on as he exorcises a curse. he trots over to the camera. he seems less enthusiastic compared to the other videos. ]
"aaand that's what the strongest looks like while he's at work."
[ satoru looks smug and goofy, but something is off. his features look worn and tired. ]
[ there is already that slightly disingenuous liveliness showing in his demeanor just in this small video; the version of satoru that his students would know as just normal gojo sensei. ]
[ his smile falters as he rambles about y/n and suguru. ]
"i'm gonna give y/n a big kiss when i get home. miss you, angel. haha... why am i talking to a camera all by myself... that's so sad. i'm gonna film myself gettin' that kiss at home, just to prove i'm not some lonely idiot. i have a hot fiancé..."
Tumblr media
[ one of the last photos taken on this camera is dated; august 2009. it's of you and satoru sharing a big kiss... neither of you knew it at the time, but it was your last kiss. ]
Tumblr media
[ the next piece of footage is from 2018. it's a 28 year old gojo, his features show his maturity and the weathering of all the years he's endured living without you and suguru.]
"i found this camera while cleaning up. if i look 'n sound funny it's 'cuz i've been crying haha......"
"...... i miss you two..... haha... i can't shove the camera in your faces like i used to, now can i?"
[ he awkwardly smiles at the camera but then his face trembles and contorts into an ugly-cry as if he just remembered every single memory of his youth. ]
[ the footage ends with a broken, barely audible "fuck..." falling from the teacher's lips as he starts to cry and drops the camera to the floor. the rest is corrupted footage... just heaving sobs of the man who has no more memories to record with suguru and y/n. ]
Tumblr media
© arminsumi
I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.
This is fictional work.
3K notes · View notes
lovedumbandbroke · 2 years
Text
A concept in my head that been rolling around a lot:
Hanahaki, but instead of it being triggered by unrequited love, it's triggered because all the love you have for a person turns inwards because you're too afraid to show it.
So it kills you, not because someone doesn't love you back, but because you don't let it out and all that love you have stored, that could grow into something beautiful, turns on you and turns your insides beautiful.
Love is growth, and without any place for it to grow outside, it grows in. If you confess, reciprocated or not, the disease goes away because it's no longer trapped. It gives self-destruction a new meaning.
33K notes · View notes
lazylittledragon · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
i promised a happy ending for alt dads <33
5K notes · View notes
talaok · 19 days
Text
The sweetest remedy
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!pregnant!reader
summary: Joel has a bad day at work, but you know how to make him forget all about it
warnings: Joel is very much in love with his pregnant wife, a bunch of fluff, smut| oral sex (f receiving), Joel takes care of himself but you still swallow, fluffy smut, Joel being the pussy eating king that he is
Tumblr media
"what's wrong?"
He'd taken one step into the house and you could already tell something was off
His forehead was creased with lines of annoyance and exhaustion, and by the way he was discarding his boots and jacket you knew he was pissed.
You were on the couch, your body turned towards the entrance, towards him, the tv muted behind you
"nothin'" he grumbled, setting his keys on the counter
"baby" you cooed, pouting softly "c'mere"
And of course, he did
Seeing you was all that made him survive these types of shitty days at work
Especially when he knew you'd be waiting for him in those flimsy summer dresses you loved to wear in the summer,
and especially since he'd gotten your belly to swell with the gift of a child.
You were five months in, and he fell in love with you all over again every time he looked at you
He had you straddling his lap the moment he sat down, his hands on your waist and his eyes all over you.
"tell me what's wrong," you asked again
You hated seeing him all troubled, he deserved nothing but happiness this man of yours, 
because that's what he brought to you every single day
He sighed, before nodding slowly
"it's jus' the guys at work babygirl," he said "nothin' you gotta worry about"
you didn't pay attention to the last part
"What did they do this time?" you asked, softly caressing his chest to try and soothe him
"one of 'em didn't show" he grunted, the palms of his rough hands starting their journey from your pregnant belly to your butt and thighs
"Again?" you raised your eyebrows, annoyed too now "I don't understand why you don't just fire them and get new guys"
The first little smile since he first came home tugged at his lips
"what a coldhearted little boss you'd make" he joked, smirking softly.
You rolled your eyes, biting down a grin of your own
"you know I'm right"
He pushed you even closer to him before responding, wanting to feel more of you, all of you
"I know you are babygirl" he nodded, his forehead to yours now "but you know how I am... I know these guy's stories and evrythin'- I jus' don't have it in me"
Ah that's right
Who could have ever expected such a rough and tough exterior to be hiding such a softie
"you're too nice for your own good, Miller" You couldn't help but smile, softly kissing his cheek
He only grunted in response, losing himself in the scent and feel of you
"'m gonna have a talk with him Monday, I'll see what he has to say for himself"
You nodded, watching him closely
"that's a good idea" you murmured as you let him guide your mouth to his, impatiently kissing you as he'd dreamed of doing since he took the first step out of the house this morning.
You let him taste you, his tongue in your mouth and his beard against your skin, until you both needed air and had to lean away
But something seemed still off, usually, he only needed to feel your lips on his to forget all about his day, but today... today that little shadow in his eyes was still lurking in his iris
"baby" you pouted, your hands reaching for his cheeks to gently take his face in your hands "what can I do to make you feel better?"
And in retrospect, you didn't even know why you asked,
Your husband might have been a gentleman and a hard worker and everything else in this entire world... but he still was just a man.
A man that happened to love the taste of his wife more than anything on this earth
Which is why he didn't waste a moment before murmuring
"y'know what I need babydoll"
God but the way his voice always dropped an octave and that sweet southern drawl got more noticeable every time he needed you was more than enough to impregnate you all over again
"you're insatiable, Miller" you shook your head, laughing that light laugh of yours that made him feel summer breeze and sunshine all over him even on the coldest day of winter
But he didn't laugh, oh no, Joel Miller didn't laugh, he only looked at you, admired you, as you made your decision
"alright" you smiled, getting off his lap with a low groan, before laying on the couch, propping a pillow on the armrest so you could set your head on it to not have your belly cover the best part of the show, which of course, was your husband between your thighs.
just like he was now.
Good Christ and heaven all tougher did he look fucking hot like that,
his eyes fixed on your clothed core, his pupils big and dark with lust, his hands gripping the outside of your legs, his breathing almost as quick as yours...
His eyes found yours as his nose plummeted to your core, his nostrils flaring as he did what would make any woman self-conscious,( that was of course, if they weren't married to such a depraved and pussy obsessed man), he smelled you, he smelled you like you would with a good meal before devouring it, the tip of his nose ever so gently rubbing against your clit in the process.
You whimpered like you always did, and, like he always did, he only continued with his torture.
His tongue felt good even though the soaked material
"Joel" you whined now, as he licked slowly and thoroughly,
He resisted the urge to make you come like that, although he'd proved times and times before that he very well could,
he only stopped when there wasn't a spot on your underwear that wasn't drenched, and your chest was rising and falling faster than the speed of light
That, only that, was when his fingers reached for the fabric covering your core and pulled it to the side, his eyes falling to the work of art between your legs
he didn't say anything, he couldn't, he only groaned before he was devouring you whole
"oh my f-" you cried, your back arching from the couch as his hand seeped underneath your dress to get to your belly, his eyes finding yours again "f-fucking god baby"
He groaned again, his tongue drinking up everything you gave him, swirling over your clit over and over again, getting you utterly desperate just to tease you and fall to your hole, threatening to enter and forcing a gasp out of your mouth
your thighs squeezed around his head just like he liked it, robbing him of almost all oxygen as he buried his whole face into your weeping cunt.
"Joel- baby- p-please"
but he was back at sucking your clit, and all the words in your vocabulary got replaced by mindless, animalistic moans as one of your hands shot to his hair, gripping his hazel locks tightly as your hips started grinding onto his face, his nose, his mustache, his everything
And fuck if he didn't love it, if he didn't live to see you use him for your own pleasure, drenching his face and the couch beneath you with all your sweet juices as you whimpered and moaned what alternated between curses and his name with that irresistible desperate voice of yours.
Yeah, there was nothing that could ever beat this,
the feeling that he got every time you came apart like this was something that could have only been described as a glimpse of heaven, with the angels singing and everything too.
"f-fuck" he knew that high pitch cry, oh he knew it really fucking well "baby I-"
And you didn't even have to tell him, he already knew.
He continued feasting on your pussy, letting you chase your own high, and before you knew it, your head was thrown back and a wildfire of pleasure spread through your whole body, from your toes to the ends of your fucking hair.
You would have guessed you'd just run a marathon by how fast your heart was beating
"you're the most gorgeous woman on this planet" Joel murmured more to himself as he kissed the inside of your thigh, sending a shiver down your spine, before crawling up to ghost your lips "with the sweetest fuking pussy too"
You could only let out a silly laugh before he kissed you, letting you have a taste of that sweetness.
But when you didn't feel him grind what you knew must have been a rock hard erection underneath his jeans, on your core like he usually did, you frowned, as you watched him sit up instead
"baby?" your forehead creased even more in puzzlement once you watched him undo his zipper and pull out his aching cock, not looking even remotely interested in making a move to position himself at your entrance
"what are you doing?" you finally asked, sitting up too now
He wrapped a hand around his dick as he answered
"You're still sore from this mornin'"
What does that have to do with anything?
"but-"
He shook his head, watching you closely with that honest care that he only showed you "no but" he declared "I don't wanna hurt you babygirl"
And although you would have liked to argue, you knew that since you'd gotten pregnant, his protective side had somehow gotten even more hard-headed, and changing his mind was damn near impossible, which is why what you did instead, was change the tactic
"I still have hands... or a mouth, you know?" you cocked an eyebrow, eyeing his manhood
You didn't miss the way his member twitched ever so little at the proposal,
but then again, he had always refused you going down on him since the pregnancy, not because he didn't want to, fuck- god only knew the unspeakable things he'd do to let that pretty mouth of yours take care of him, no, the reason was he simply didn't want you to go through all that just for him, for his insignificant pleasure.
"All you gotta do is just sit there and look pretty, sugar" he murmured, finally starting to stroke himself, groaning lowly as he did
Your breathing faltered at the image, his large hands fisting his cock hard, stroking up and down in a way that looked incredibly natural and incredibly intimate at the same time.
And even if he'd ignored your proposal, you couldn't help but smile before pressing a kiss to his neck, right where his pulse was fighting against his skin.
And while you did that, now softly peking every inch of skin not covered by his shirt, you started undoing the straps of your dress, letting them fall down with the top of it once you were done
"like this?" you asked, biting down a smirk as Joel let out a desperate moan at the image before him.
God your tits looked even fucking better now, so full, so soft, so- so fucking perfect
"sweet Jesus" he groaned, his eyes panning between your mouth and your boobs as his strokes got faster, more desperate
You felt his hand sneak up your body and finding your tits, grabbing at them softly, gently caressing each one with all the care and amazement in the word, until he was whispering, begging "fucking-come here" and pulled your mouth to his, leaving a wet, filthy kiss on your lips as he continued palming your front.
the sound from his work on his dick was obscene, but neither of you cared, especially when the words coming out of your mouth happened to be even obscene.
"You're close?" you asked, feeling his heavy breath fanning over your mouth
"yeah doll"
You kissed him again quickly before speaking
"come inside my mouth baby"
Again, Joel Miller might have been as incredible as you wanted... but he still remained only a man,
a man who had to fight with everything he had in himself not to bust his load right there
"Good fucking Christ-" he groaned, closing his eyes as he threw his head back "fuck me"
"I would if you'd let me" you joked, placing another kiss beneath his ear
He laughed softly, opening his eyes to find yours "you want me to come in your mouth sugar?"
"yes" you nodded without missing a beat "I need it" you cooed, stroking his beard as his breathing became more and more uneven, his cock on the verge of exploding
"I need you to fill me up baby, if not my pussy, my throat at least"
"fuck"
you always knew what to say to get him going
"fucking- damnit" he groaned, tugging hurriedly at his cock as he ordered you to "don't move- open your mouth" until he was kneeling beside you on the couch, grunting and moaning soft curses or that's it-good girl, looking down lovingly at you till his warm seed was filling your whole mouth.
It took him a moment to come back to life, to the real word, but before he knew it, you were kissing as he held you close to his chest.
"Feeling better?" you finally asked
"I don't even remember what I was mad about babydoll"
1K notes · View notes
hairmetal666 · 2 months
Text
Steve doesn't date, not anymore. He goes to bars, clubs, picks people up and makes it clear it's just for the night; that it can't, won't, be for anything more.
He falls too fast and too hard; wants so badly to be loved that he loses himself to it. So, he doesn't date and he's fine. More than fine, actually. Not worrying about finding someone, about falling in love, lets him truly enjoy his life; maybe for the first time since childhood.
He goes with Robin to visit her parents in Hawkins, wakes up at the ass crack of dawn to go for a run. With the sun barely up, he doesn't expect to come face-to-face with Eddie Munson, smoking on a park bench.
They startle each other in the early Hawkins quiet, Eddie jumping hard enough that he drops his cigarette into the dirt at his feet.
"Christ, Harrington!" He snarls a little.
"Fuck, Eddie." Steve fights to catch his breath. "What are you doing out this early?"
He glances up, finds Eddie's eyes raking over this body in a way that makes him go hot all over.
"Haven't been home yet." Eddie smirks. And he can see that's true, Eddie is fully dressed, faint lines of mascara trail across his cheeks.
"Had a show?"
"Something like that." Eddie's cheeks pink, and he pulls a chunk of hair over his face.
Understanding dawns, and Steve points at him, delighted laugh bubbling in his throat.
"Don't--"
"You had an all night Hellfire meeting?" Steve cackles.
"Shut--Harrington, shut-up." But he's smiling too. "I'm in town this weekend. Dustin insisted!"
"You can tell him no, you know?" Steve giggles.
"Like you ever could."
Eddie stands then, and they hug, quick and tight. He practically crumbles into his friend's body, but then, that's nothing new. Steve breathes him in, immediately comforted by the familiarity of tobacco and leather and sweat and weed.
"I'm at Rob's. Come say hi?"
Eddie nods and they trek back together. They kept in touch, after Vecna, and their chatting is easy, like it's not been six months since the last time.
Eddie stays for breakfast tells them with a smile, "I was gonna call but--I'm moving to Chicago. That's why I'm crashing at Wayne's for now, stopped on the way--"
The rest of his words are smothered by the force of Steve and Robin's hug, Steve's heart beating an elated rhythm he doesn't bother investigating.
--
When Eddie makes it to town, they hang out as constantly as an adult with a day job and a touring musician can. It's nice, good, to see Eddie sitting on their couch. To watch him smoke a joint on the balcony. To hangout in his bed as he works on new music. It's just like the summer of '86, before they all went off to find their futures.
They're closer than they've ever been. Crashing at each other's apartments, sharing clothes, meeting for coffee and drinks and meals. There's not a day or night when they're free that they don't spend together.
Steve knows he's falling for Eddie; was halfway there already, and now--well, Eddie's beautiful and funny and smart and talented. He doesn't make a move, though. Because Eddie'll leave, like they all do, and losing Eddie will crush him more than anyone else ever has.
--
In June, Eddie's gone for a month, touring across the midwest. The day he's expected back, Steve's in the kitchen, rolling up fresh pasta, simmering sauce on the stove.
Robin stomps in, eyes flashing. "What are you doing?"
"Making dinner?" Steve raises an eyebrow.
"Steve."
"Robin."
They glare at each other across the kitchen. Steve breaks first. "What's wrong with making our friend dinner?"
"I don't want either of you to get hurt."
Steve freezes, swallows. "I'm not--I'm--I wouldn't."
"Just. Promise you'll be careful?"
He nods, squeezes his hands into fists. "Course, Rob."
And he means it, he really does, but when Eddie lets himself in, Steve runs to the doorway to pull his friend into a tight hug.
Eddie huffs out a burst of air on impact, laughing lightly. "Miss me, sweetheart?"
"So much," Steve whispers. He presses his nose into Eddie's neck, breathing him in, and he doesn't miss the way a kiss is pressed into his hair, the way Eddie's breathing him in too.
They fall into their natural rhythm immediately, Eddie following him to the kitchen, cooing and posturing that Steve made him dinner.
As Steve serves up the food, Eddie wraps his arms around his waist, leaning against his back. God help him, but Steve can't help relax into the hold, turning his head until their eyes meet.
Desire bleeds from Eddie's gaze, and Steve's breath hitches. He wants this so badly, knows he shouldn't, but he lets himself lean in until they share air.
But--he can't lose Eddie. He can't.
He turns away, lets the moment die. Eddie doesn't stay over that night, and Steve pretends like it doesn't make his stomach hurt.
--
They aren't as close after that.
Steve keeps telling himself it's because they're busy. The school year's starting up, Steve's got lesson plans to write; Eddie made an EP, it got interest, he's taking meetings in New York and LA. It's okay that they're spending less time together.
Until Eddie stops returning his calls.
He tries not to worry. But one call becomes two, becomes three, and he can't help it. He goes over, dread a knot in his stomach. Eddie opens the door, and he's shirtless with sweatpants slung low on his hips, hair loose and streaming around his shoulders. He looks happy.
"Steve? What are you--"
"You weren't answering my calls, and--can I come in?"
Eddie winces. "It's not a good time, Harrington."
He stands there for a second, stung, not sure what to say.
"Eddie, I--"
"Babe?" A voice calls from inside the apartment. "Who's at the door?"
Steve freezes. Can't think, can't move. He hopes it isn't obvious that his heart is shattering, but Eddie's blinking at him, panic written in the lines gathering on his forehead.
"Steve, Stevie, please," Eddie is saying, but he can't do this. He can't do this.
He walks away, all the way home, numb to everything around him.
The phone's ringing when he gets to the apartment. He ignores it. Goes to his room, locks himself in, crawls into bed.
The phone keeps ringing. He keeps ignoring it.
It isn't supposed to be like this. They weren't dating, weren't trying for a relationship; Eddie's supposed to be his. He curls into himself, sobs until his ribs hurt, until his eyes are as heavy as his heart, and he falls asleep.
--
Steve startles awake, disoriented, to someone knocking on his bedroom door. He has no idea what time it is, how long he slept, but he expects Robin to be waiting in the hall.
It's Eddie. Hair in a messy bun, face flushed, eyes too bright.
"I'm sorry," falls out of Steve's mouth before he can think of anything else.
"Steve, I--I don't--" Eddie shakes his head. "Do you want to be in a relationship with me?"
"Yes," Steve whispers. "But I can't lose you, Eddie."
Eddie reaches out, slender hand, cupping Steve's jaw. "I need you to really listen when I say this, sweetheart. You will never, ever lose me. Not a chance."
"You can't know that," Steve says. Tears break free, cascade down his cheeks. "I used to think who could ever leave me? You know, back before Nancy. But I realized that actually no one would stay. And I can't--with you I can't--"
"Sweetheart," Eddie chokes on a sob. "I'm yours. Have been for years. I will never, ever leave you, no matter what we are to each other. But I can't be in some of a relationship with you. You have me wrapped around your finger, and I--I need it all, Steve."
"I want you to have it, Eddie." He presses his hand to his heart. "This belongs to you, but I--I couldn't survive you leaving."
"I would stay, Steve. I will. I promise on everything I have, everything I am, that you would never, ever lose me."
Steve stumbles into Eddie's arms, totally gone, and their mouths meet in a clumsy kiss. It wrecks Steve, tears him apart, renders him down to his smallest parts only to build him back together. He knows now for certain that there is no one else in the world for him.
They break apart, but don't move out of each other's orbit. "I love you," Steve whispers.
"Stevie, sweetheart, I love you more than anything." His fingers wind their way into Steve's hair, gentle, holding him. "I promise you'll have me for forever--fuck, longer than forever. My soul will find yours wherever we end up. I swear it."
1K notes · View notes
jelluf1sh · 2 months
Text
౨ৎ — alt. ending!
there were few things gojo loved about life. a handful of simple joys that made his — frankly, tiring — existence as the world’s strongest sorcerer just a pinch better.
one of them was your face. a vague first, and he knows that, but that doesn’t change his answer.
“satoru, look. look how many there are!”
look at you, fascinated with something as simple as jellyfish, your eyes illuminated by the blue luminescence of the bubbling tank, your palms pressed to the glass as if you’d never even heard of a sea creature before. he’d never given a second thought to things like that, but he’d buy you the entire aquarium to keep that smile on your face.
“mhmm,” he murmurs, "real pretty.” not once had he taken his eyes off you. even with six of them, he could never get tired of the way your cheeks stretch and your lips show off your teeth.
the second thing was the way you looked at him.
or maybe, he'd told himself countless times, times late at night when his thoughts raced with you, times when he felt his heart ache and pull against his ribs, begging his lips to spill words that his brain told him to keep in, maybe you look at the whole world like that. he wouldn’t be surprised if you did. the way your eyes gleamed when you stared at something you loved — satoru gojo never thought he could be jealous of an inanimate object until he met you.
the third thing was the fact that you didn’t know how he felt. it was a bittersweet, slightly addicting feeling, like candy with a sour coating and a sugary aftertaste. he’d thought out how to tell you: that was why you were at the aquarium right now, though he’d disguised the very obvious date as another hangout when he’d first texted you.
“i didn’t know there were so many different kinds,” you continued to ramble, your hands still pressed to the tank. then you turned to him with that look. that look of wonder. like a child — and gojo hated children, but when you looked at him like that…
“do you think we’re jellyfish in some other life?” such a stupid, random question, and yet his heart pounds, and he prays you can’t hear it. white lashes flutter under his sunglasses, all six eyes focused on the shape of your lips as they push out sweet words. the strongest sorcerer, prodigy of the gojo clan, reduced to something of an elementary school kid with a life-sized crush.
“…yeah,” he mutters, clearing his throat awkwardly when his voice nearly cracks. “yeah, probably.”
the rest of that day was spent in a comfortable bubble, just you and gojo, wandering around staring at fish. it was simple, and he’d not have it any other way. for a few hours, he could forget about it all, take in your face and feel his tiredness die out like a bad dream.
...satoru gojo swore the gods must have hated him.
he couldn’t even lift the tarp. it was white, practically red now that unimaginable amounts of blood had soaked it through. your eyes were closed now, courtesy of him — because you deserved to rest in peace, and because he couldn’t bear to see the fear preserved in them as you lay there on the table. as a reminder that he wasn't there to save you.
'killed in action'. three fucking words, and his world was turned on its head.
if had he known the aquarium was the last place you two would've been happy together, gojo would've given anything to make that day last just a few minutes longer, so he could spill his guts, pour his heart out, told you that you could be jellyfish in your next lives like he should have.
but in the end, you died without ever knowing he loved you.
2K notes · View notes
ririarts · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
What have you become, my love?
Were you ever anything else?
One day, will I hunt you too?
I'm playing Astarion origin with Wyll romance, but I ascended Astarion. Wyll was very disappointed.
3K notes · View notes
hellomayu · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
in the end, i couldn't save you
2K notes · View notes
fox-guardian · 8 months
Text
hey guys did you know that um. did you know. first of all did you know i'm losing my mind, secondly, do y'all remember in tma how when someone reads a written statement, they don't really Stop unless they're interrupted? and they read the whole thing easy cheesy, no issues with reading whatever words are there? like. jon literally could read french for a whole statement and was Fine. granted, that's Jon, but like nobody else struggled with pronunciations and whatnot (that i can recall)
presumably, this is an eye thing. either as employees of the institute, or because everyone there is just also eye-aligned in some degree (melanie had the ghost hunting show, the eye is fond of martin, etc)
and then there's tim in season 3 ep 86
[Sigh] Statement of… uh, Benjamin Hatendi… Hateendi? Regarding a… [papers rustling] a blanket. Dead friend. Monster. Regarding his unavoidable and gruesome end. How he tried to hide. He couldn’t. Statement is from… 1983, March 2nd. And I guess… [long sigh] I guess I’m doing this one. Tim Stoker. Archival assistant… Archival prisoner at the Magnus Institute.
correct me if im wrong but i don't recall anyone struggling with pronunciations before this bit. but that's not even the biggest thing here, that's just a lil Taste, a lil Flavor.
note the phrasing there. "Regarding his unavoidable and gruesome end." why would he say this when the written text on the statement says this:
Uh, right. Benjamin Hatendi’s account of… [rustling pages] oh for… a, a strange encounter. Er, statement date, March 2nd, 1983. Melanie King recording. Apparently.
"a strange encounter". that's it. nothing about an unavoidable death, just a "strange encounter". Tim Why Did You Say That.
why would our dear timothy bimothy, who is being pushed to the brink, who is becoming rapidly more depressed and losing hope, say this?
this isn't the only time he's said some weirdly grim shit tho (ep 104)
There was never really any hope for me, though, was there? This was how it was always going to go.
and then there's this bit from elias apparently having Looked into tim (also 104)
TIM All right, hit me with your X-ray eyes then, boss. What do you see? ELIAS Disruption. An unpredictable, angry man with nothing left but the desire to feel in some way revenged. TIM [Sarcastic] Ooh, terrifying! Surely only magic could have let you see so deep inside my very soul.
"nothing left" but the desire to feel revenged. and tim doesn't dispute this, because it's true.
when he first joined the institute he did so in order to look for answers about danny, but then he stopped seriously looking. and now that the circus is back, this is all the drive he has left. not looking for answers, just wanting revenge. closure. an end, if you will.
this is Literally It For Him. a couple lines later he suggests elias kill him, he's At The Breaking Point.
he is so tired, he's lost all hope, and he's saying all this grim shit about "unavoidable death" and "this is how it was always going to go" like hmmmm sounds familiar doesn't it. DOESN'T IT (<- is going insane)
(ep 11) [....] despite the rapid response of the paramedics and how much of his medical history I had immediately to hand, there was nothing I could do to save him. (ep 11) I have no responsibility to try and prevent whatever fate is coming for you. Based on my previous experience, such a thing is likely impossible anyway,[....] (ep 121) There. That was it. That was our fate; where we would always be.
hmmmm sounds a bit like oliver huh? everyone's favorite ex-accountant avatar of the end?? right??
but then there's this last bit i have from ep 86.
why did he stop reading the statement
Statement. “My parents never let me have a nightlight. I was always afraid, but they were ju–” Ugh, this is stupid.
why did he do that. again, correct me if im wrong but when else has someone just Stopped Reading like that without someone or something else interrupting them? why could tim just stop himself?
my theory is this: at this point, tim is completely gone from being aligned with the eye. he no longer seeks to know what happened to danny, he just wants closure. he doesn't wanna do any statement work, and he keeps mentioning these tidbits about hopelessness and the inevitability of terrible events, specifically death.
the eye isn't compelling him to read the statements like it does the others, because it doesn't have as strong a hold anymore. the grip is slipping from him. and by the time the unknowing rolls around, maybe it's lost him for good. maybe he finally fell into a different power he never meant to serve, and yet, he does.
and maybe. just maybe. because i'm so not in denial. but MAYBE. he did die in the unknowing. but maybe he got better.
basically end!tim truthers rise up, this is how end!tim kayaking with his bf oliver banks can still win, etc etc I'm Going Feral <3
3K notes · View notes
sonicposting · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
smile
2K notes · View notes
feyascorner · 4 months
Text
until I come back alive
summary. in which you come back injured from a particularly unlucky battle, and Astarion realizes his feigned affections for you are not feigned at all.
warnings. angst, fluff, Astarion being bad at feelings
pairing. Astarion x GN!reader
a/n. this is super long omg ALSO TYSM for the love on my previous fic! It was my first post so I didn’t realize more than like two ppl would see it!! Kind of scary but also I can write more astarion so oh well 🙏
“The way they look at you is different from the way they look at us.”
Astarion raises a brow at this, glancing at Karlach who adjusts a log in the campfire paying no heed to the flickering flames brushing against her skin. She smiles to herself, genuinely, and he questions if she’s finally gone mad.
“So have you said the big ‘L’ word yet?” she asks excitedly, turning to him with a big grin. He shifts away from her, the increasing heat radiating off her body but she doesn’t seem to care, too busy staring at him expectantly.
“The what?”
“You know! The ‘L’ word,” she says the last part in a hushed whisper, as if it’d be a sin for anyone else to hear. Occasionally it baffles him how childish she can be, though he’d never voice these concerns out loud considering she could snap his poor body in half if she really wanted.
He also knows that she’s more emotionally capable in how she approaches these relationships (though one could argue it’s just innocence)—in ways he’s lost over the past 200 years. Though, he makes an effort to shove these thoughts to the deepest corners of his brain for the sake of his own sanity.
“If you’re speaking of ‘love,’” He emphasizes it with a strange accent. “No. I have not. Nor have they.”
She appears puzzled. “Why not?”
He sighs irritably, bringing a hand to adjust the cuffs on his hand. “Must everything be put bluntly? So glaringly obvious?”
“You love each other, don’t you?”
At this, he falters, just the slightest before plastering his usual grin that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Love is a wide spectrum, dear. Tav and I are whatever they want us to be.”
A late night partner would be the most positive thing he could refer you to. A fling, an amusement, or whatever words people described the arrangement between the two of you as, he didn’t care for it. He’d given himself to you, and you to him—-physically, at least, and you’d seem more than content with it. In return, he received protection, which was a sufficient payment in return for his hushed words of affection and kisses. A fair trade, he deemed.
Sure, he could’ve chosen anyone else in the camp. But he’d seen the way your eyes lit up at the sight of him, surely dazed at his flirtatious tendencies. You’d been an easy target. A survival tool.
And yes, maybe he’d played with your innocent feelings, but could you really blame him? He’d given you the nights of your life, for something so simple in return. It was a transaction.
Karlach waves a dismissive hand which brings him back to the present, propping herself on her arm behind her. “Life’s too short for that bullshit. Either you love someone or you don’t.”
“Fortunately for me, I have all of eternity,” he snorts. “Unless I were to suddenly lose the unwanted visitor inside my head and step into the sunlight, I’ll be here to watch the world fall and rise a dozen times over I’m afraid.”
“But they don’t,” Karlach frowns. “Tav doesn’t have eternity.”
He ignores the way his jaw clenches. He’s afraid, he thinks, of losing the freedom he’s just gained.
“Did you call me?”
Both the vampire and tiefling turn to your voice, where you stand blankly with an armful of logs clutched to your waist. Karlach opens her mouth to respond, but Astarion is faster.
“Nothing, darling. Just answering a few curious questions from Karlach here.”
“Oh,” you blink at him, shrugging before setting the logs beside the fireplace. “Well, Gale, Shadowheart, and I are going to the village across the forest tomorrow morning to check on the goblins appearing there recently. Won’t be back till noon so don’t wait up.”
“Don’t worry,” Karlach laughs. “I’ll keep the camp in order while you’re gone. If Astarion tries to bite Lae’zel, though, his fate’s inevitable.”
He rolls his eyes, opting to stand from his spot and take your hand. “Come along, darling. Any longer near this damned fireplace and my skin may melt.”
You nod with a smile, waving at Karlach before you follow him into his tent without a word of protest.
Easy, he thinks. Too easy.
He soon finds himself staring up at you from his place, laying his head on your lap as you read through a few scrolls you found throughout the day. He clicks his tongue and you look down, offering that sickeningly sweet smile again. “What’s wrong?”
“You have the most handsome person in this camp on your bloody lap and you want to read?”
You snicker at this, setting the scroll down beside you. “What do you suggest I do? Worship the very eyelashes on your face?”
“My body deserves much more praise than just the eyelashes.”
“Hm…” you pretend to be in thought. “That mole on your face is very obvious too.”
He gasps, immediately shooting upward as he grabs at his own face. “Tell me you’re lying.”
Your laughter rings throughout the tent, airy as you pull his hand away from his face. “I’m kidding, mostly.”
He stares at you as you recollect yourself, finding himself gazing at you far longer than he’d like to admit. Quickly, he adjusts, fiddling with the hand mirror he always keeps under his pillow as he watches you through it. “Karlach spoke of something ridiculous today. She said you were in love with me.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really,” he rolls his eyes. “That woman lives in a fairy tale I tell you. How she went through 10 years in Avernus is beyond me.”
There’s slight hesitance in your voice, and if he’d not learned your body language early on in your arrangement, he wouldn’t have even noticed it. “Astarion, have you ever been in love?”
He pauses at this, meeting your eyes head on now. There’s a heavier thickness in the air between the short distance between the two of you, and he immediately gauges what you want him to say. A lie readies itself at the tip of his tongue, his gaze searching yours for whatever fantasy that lives behind them.
Instead, your expression is blank. He finds nothing.
“No.” He’s not sure why he responded honestly, but it’s too late to take it back. “Have you?”
You look to the side. “I’m not sure anymore.”
“Anymore?” He shifts his head when you turn your chin further away, avoiding confrontation. “Has someone captured your impenetrable heart as of late? How intriguing—do tell.”
His teasing tone drops when you don’t smile at his usual antics. He’s not stupid—far from it. He knows you’ve begun to fall for him. It’s an obvious result from the 200 years of instinctive flirting he has tucked away in what remains of his soul, and it’s what he intended. What he needed.
The more enraptured you are, the longer he has protection.
He gently tilts your chin toward him, his fang visible through the grin that stretches across his face. “Tell me, pet, do you love me?”
Your eyes drop to his lips. “Do you want me to?”
A bunny caught in the fangs of a fox. It would be so easy to indulge—to go as far as to make you nothing but a puppet he toys with for his own personal gains. He can sense the way your finger twitches, itching to lace them with his own, and the crueler side of him forces his hand to stay put.
He wordlessly leans toward you, his lips grazing against the side of your neck. You shiver at the touch and he smiles wickedly to himself, drinking in the gasp that escapes you when he tilts your neck to the other side, where he usually drinks.
He doesn’t even have to ask. “Just—be gentle. Please.”
“Of course.” He unhinges his jaw, ready to plunge the knives of his teeth into where the sweet liquid gold rushes to your face, his shoulders finally relaxing when—
“I love you,” you whisper under your breath.
He stops.
Though unsure why, he freezes. Completely and utterly freezes.
“Astarion?”
He pulls away slowly, staring at you for a long moment before offering another smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.
“You look exhausted, my dear. I think that’s enough for tonight.”
“But you didn’t even feed?”
“I can handle myself, darling, as much as I appreciate your worries,” he stands and holds the flap of the tent open, practically a silent demand for you to leave.
He should be ecstatic. Gleaming with joy from being offered a drop of your blood, but instead, he feels knots forming in his stomach. And the longer he watches you, the worst they seem the get.
Hurt flashes across your face and he ignores the sudden tightness in his chest.
“Okay, well,” you say, stepping out hesitantly. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, my dear.”
And as he lies wide awake in the middle of the night with nothing to accompany him but his own thoughts, he finds that all of them are overruled by his endless need for warmth. Not just anyone’s but the one he’s become accustomed to the past few months. No matter how much he curls up in his bedroll, all he can feel is the chill of his own body.
And he hates it more than he expected.
——
By the time he awakens, you’re long gone.
He’s rather productive. Taking walks, gathering supplies, catching up on his reading, he refuses to sit and lie around as the others await for you and your companions to return from the goblin village.
He even entertains sitting through one of Karlach’s dances, which somehow ends up being more entertaining than he’d imagined. While she didn’t fall flat on her face (which he admittedly looked forward to), it burnt through time regardless.
The peace is broken when he hears footsteps rushing toward the camp. He’s memorized everyone’s intervals when sprinting or pacing, so he’s quick to identify Gale and Shadowheart. He listens keenly for your own footsteps.
There are no third pair of footsteps at all.
Shadowheart stumbles into the camp, in a panic compared to her usual self, as she points toward a spot on the ground and snaps at Gale to put something down.
He only sees when she moves out of the way that this something, is rather someone.
You’re writhing in pain, eyes shut in an unconsciousness that’s surely preferable to what you’re feeling. You’re sweating, groaning in your sleep and everyone is immediately rushing to you.
His face would’ve gone pale, if it weren’t for the fact that he was already as ghostly as a sheet.
“What happened,” Lae’zel demands in place of him, and he opts to mindlessly push Gale to the side, who doesn’t say a word from the expression on Astarion’s face. He doesn’t know what he looks like, but from Gale’s reaction, it’s better he never know.
“Damned poison arrows,” Shadowheart hisses. “I’m completely out of magic for today. I need to make an antidote by hand before their condition gets any worse than it already is.”
Astarion brushes the back of his knuckles against your cheek. The creases between your brows soften for the slightest moment before they’re back again.
Lae’zel and Shadowheart are arguing again—something about how one thing would’ve happened if another thing hadn’t. He’s not even sure what they’re arguing about, but in an instant, rage flickers in his chest.
“Do something!” He snaps, suddenly making the camp go quiet. “Or are you just going to stand there and watch them die?”
He suddenly feels a hand grab his, and his eyes shoot down to see your own. Even in your sleep, you reach out to him. Even in the deepest part of slumber, you search for him. It makes him feel like the shittiest and luckiest person alive, especially as the your hurt expression from last night flashes in his mind.
“Help them,” the words spill out against his will, his tone breaking down into something more desperate. “Do something. For God’s sake, anything.”
In the moment, he doesn’t care about protection. He doesn’t give a shit about any of that because the second he’d seen you in genuine pain, it was all he needed to completely forget about the stupid reasons why he approached you in the first place.
All he cared about was your life.
Everyone glances at one another knowingly, but even Lae’zel doesn’t break the silence. Shadowheart spares him a furrowed glare before rushing to gather the antidote.
You only awake hours later. Certainly during the middle of the night, to the ceiling of a tent that’s certainly not your own. You slowly urge yourself to sit up, a pounding headache ringing in your skull, but your worries about it vanish when you hear his voice.
“Quite the nap, darling.”
You snap around to see him on the other side of the tent, albeit only a few feet away from how crunched it is. Fascinating, he thinks, that even with your disheveled hair and bloodshot eyes, he finds you more beautiful than before. “What happened?”
“You nearly died.”
“…how?”
“Poison,” he’s fiddling with his dagger, refusing to look at you. He can’t. In fear of what he might say. “Caused a reasonable panic too. Seems like our companions have grown more attached to you than anyone’s expected.”
You purse your lips, and he quickly mortifies at the exceeding need to part them with his own. You don’t seem to notice. “You too?”
“I was certainly worried our esteemed leader may kick the bucket earlier than anticipated, yes.”
“No, I mean,” you scrunch your eyes sheepishly, and he thinks it’s adorable. Gods he must be going insane. “Have you…grown attached?”
He raises a brow. “You just woke up from a life threatening experience and that’s what piques your interest?”
Your cheeks turn a shade darker. He wants to touch them. “I just…I was worried all day. About us. I got too distracted and of course, that’s on me, but one of the goblins took advantage and—“
He wants to climb into a coffin, guilt eating away at what remains of his organs. But when you fidget with the ends of his bedroll blanket, he can’t tell if his stomach is churning from shame or something else.
You stop, close your mouth, then open it again. “When I passed out, I was just thinking about how I would hate for us to part like that. I didn’t want last night to be our last moment.”
“No,” he says firmly. “While you’d been asleep, I’ve had quite some time to think, darling. And more time to wallow in my self pity for being stuck with an actual weirdo. I mean, do you hear yourself? Worrying about such a stupid encounter while on your deathbed? You should’ve been cursing me with all the strength you had left if you were going to think about me of all people!”
You smile a bit, and he grits his teeth at the way his throat goes dry. “I’m just glad.”
“For getting poisoned?”
“No,” you roll your eyes. “I’m glad I didn’t scare you off by telling you I loved you. I was afraid we wouldn’t talk like this anymore.”
His body wills him to freeze up again. To push you away, and to force the fantasy that his feelings towards you were nothing but manipulative. That you were nothing but a way to survive to him. But no, he couldn’t stand such cowardice any longer. Not after nearly losing you.
You offer him a pathetic laugh. “I don’t expect you to say it back, nor for you to feel the same way. I just—felt like you needed to know. It doesn’t change anything between us I hope. It just felt wrong to keep it to myself any longer and the way you reacted just made me regret it so much-“
He wraps his palm in front of your mouth, his other hand pulling you closer to his side in an instant. With your faces inches apart, he sighs irritably. “As much as I’d like to keep hearing your voice, I can’t stand its contents any longer I’m afraid.”
He lowers his hand, staring straight at your wide eyes as he narrows his own. “I do. Like you, I mean. A lot more than I’d like to admit, quite frankly.”
You blink as if you’re staring at a miracle.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he mumbles with a scoff. “I’ve had these feelings for a while now, I just didn’t wish to face them. When you said that to me yesterday, I just didn’t know how to respond, and for that, I am sorry. But losing you—I’m not sure what I would have done, but it’s certainly not a pretty sight.”
Your eyes soften and he’s certain he can lose himself within them for years. “I’ve never heard you sound so—sincere.”
He raises your knuckles to his lips, keeping them close even as he speaks. “I approached you out of necessity, I’ll admit. But it seems you’ve grown on me in a way I haven’t experienced since I’ve turned into a spawn. What you are to me—it’s difficult to describe.” He pauses. “Sometimes, I can still feel my heart beating with you.”
As your fingers brush against the side of his face, he swears he can feel it again. He almost feels warm, maybe even safe. And he’s sick and tired of denying himself of your embrace when death is around every corner.
You’re soon curled up into his chest, with his chin atop of your head. He’s not sure how much time passes—maybe hours, or even days as he continues to observe your face, committing each and every detail to his memory. And when your breathing steadies, falling into deep slumber, he finally has the courage to whisper the words against your hair.
“I love you.”
2K notes · View notes