#two endings

[orewolf]

The Marimo kiss

Same start, 2 endings.

Zoro became multiple green fuzzy balls.

-> Ending 1 -> Ending 2

Which ending is better? For me, it is both.

[hennski]

The Price of Excellence (186.930 words | complete | university au fic)

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[liillyliilly]

Favorite Movie +

kuroo tetsurou x reader words; 2574 synopsis; two realities, one happy ending. (one where he works in a movie theater and one where she works in a movie theater)

...1...(the one where he works at a theater)

[With boys to go around, one has to wonder, where she’s disappearing to outside of the cluttered conundrums]

It was another night at the most popular movie theater in Tokyo. People flooded in, watched their movies, and then rippled back out like the tide of the ocean. Kuroo always thought it was funny how when the people came out of the different auditoriums, they looked bug-eyed and seemed like zombies coming out of a trance. As nice as it was to work at a theater, Kuroo always judged people based on which movie they were going to see.

The theater he worked at was popular because it showed a wide range of films. Depending on the day, there would be a theme for the type of movies they showed. Tonight, were superhero films. All of the classics, and the newest one that just recently came out from a big box type of studio. Kuroo works the ticketing and directs people to their different theaters. As much as he enjoyed working at the place, it annoyed him to no end that they had to wear black dress shirts with matching black dress pants as their uniform. It seemed much too dressy for a movie theater.

After dealing with a small family who was going to see some children’s film in theater seven, Kuroo decided to be productive. Rolling up his black dress shirt’s sleeves, he begins to wipe off the ticketing counter he’s standing at. Kuroo can hear the laughs from the audience in theater number three, it sounds ominous and slightly horrifying. When he’s done cleaning up, he tries to roll down his sleeves.

“Aw, don’t do that! You have such nice forearms.”

Kuroo rolls his eyes, before looking behind Y/n to see her date trailing behind holding a bucket of popcorn and a soda. This is the fourth time this week that she’s dragged an unsuspecting fellow to the theater. Y/n likes to bring them to watch their choice of movie, but then ditches them halfway through the film. Kuroo wonders if he should even call them dates, it is much more like a forty-minute fling than anything.

“Don’t let your date hear you say that L/n.” He doesn’t unroll his sleeves, leaving them bunched up at his elbows. He takes a second to take in what Y/n is wearing. Just a normal t-shirt and a pair of jeans, but he still thinks that she looks amazing. She always looked amazing in his eyes.

She looked amazing to others as well. Just like movies, she could enchant people. Creating beautiful and curiosity filled delusions. Her chemistry and down-right skill of working the machinery that is also known as the male species creates illusions for each and every single one of them.

“Hey, he’s about as dense as a rock, he wouldn’t even notice.” She takes a bite of cherry licorice and smiles, the red artificial dye slightly staining her teeth, making her look like a killer. If Kuroo wanted to go out one way, it would most definitely be by whatever means Y/n deemed appropriate for him.

He wonders why she does this. Why she only comes to his theater, why she always toys around with boys who never even understand her. Kuroo feels like she is always there, but disappears before he can get to close. Like a bird sitting on a tree, but when you start to approach, it flies away.

[When there’s terror in the thought she’s found with another]

When Y/n’s date for the night finally makes his way up to the ticket booth, Kuroo wishes he could bare his teeth. But instead he just smiles and takes the tickets.

“Theater number one, right down there.” Kuroo points down to the left hallway.

“Thanks man.” The date says, before taking Y/n’s hand. The pair of them starting the walk down the hallway. Kuroo looks down at the tickets. It just some stupid action film. When Kuroo looks back to Y/n, she had already turned around to face him, she winks before sticking out her tongue at him in her usual playful manner.

Kuroo runs a hand through his hair and looks up at the ceiling and lets out a long shaky sigh. Watching a movie with Y/n seems like such a simple thing. If all these other guys can seemingly get caught in her web, and get a date with her, why can't he do the same? He doesn’t want to dumb himself down for her. He just wants to be with her. Is that so far out of the realm of possibility for him?

He starts a stop-watch on his phone. He stops the clock when he sees Y/n walking out with the soda in hand, the straw covered in her lipstick prints where she had been sipping. He looks down at the timer. The poor guy didn’t even make it past forty minutes. Y/n throws away the soda and saunters her way over to him. Putting her hands on the edge of the counter, she bites her bottom lip.

“What went wrong with this one?”

“He tried to kiss me. During the scene where the girl gets her head chopped off.” Y/n uses her hand to fake slice her throat, then she cringes and continues, "He also had a horrible case of pizza breath. Not at all like you Kuroo.” She grabs his tie and forces him to lean in close to her.

“You always have minty fresh breath.” Her whispers surround his head encircling him until he feels like there’s a cobra tightening its body around his head, her being so close to him makes Kuroo feel punch drunk. His palms are sweaty as he tries to discreetly wipe them on his pants. She lets go of his tie and waves, "See you tomorrow.”

[You think she’ll think of you; she won’t]

Kuroo still remembers the first time he met Y/n. He had just gotten the job, and was trying his very best to show extemporary customer service, but mainly only because he wanted the employee of the month bonus. When Y/n walked in, chewing on that damned licorice, he was a goner. When he saw the bubbly boy next to her though, he immediately felt crushed. Of course, she has a boyfriend, she looks like a literal goddess.

After getting Y/n and the boy all settled, Kuroo felt resigned as she walked away. But something in his hands told him that it wouldn’t be the last he saw of the girl. He just didn’t expect it to be forty-five minutes later when she walked out and started a conversation with him.

“You're cute.” She ran a finger along his jaw.

“Excuse me, you're not supposed to touch the employees.” He choked out, his voice squeaking like the swings on an old playground.

“Just don’t tell on me then.” She slid her finger down his throat, his skin lighting on fire from her touch. Her finger traced his chest for a moment before it landed on his nametag. “Nice to meet you, Kuroo. Just letting you know that I like licorice. So, keep it in stock for me.”

When she exited the theater, Kuroo chased after her. She had barely started down a busy street when Kuroo grabbed her hand, panting slightly, “What's your name?”

“L/n, but you can call me Y/n since I like you.” She reached up and patted his cheek. That was the moment he fell. He fell so fast and so subtlety he didn’t even realize it until she had begun to flood into his thoughts like the groups of people entering the theater on a busy Friday night.

[Congratulations, ignore my arbitrary conclusions]

When Y/n stops coming to the movie theater, Kuroo thinks he’s done something wrong. Any sort of resolve he has gets taken away from him as he feels himself slipping into a distraught state. He misses her.

She does end up coming to the theater again. With yet another boy. Something feels different about him though. They both chew on some of the cherry licorice. He whispers in her ear and she laughs. This is the first time Kuroo has heard a non-sarcastic laugh uttered from her. When they kiss, his daydreams fall apart at the seams that he had carefully stitched together.

“Hey, here are our tickets.” The guy says, passing the tickets to Kuroo. Kuroo finds it ironic, it feels as though this passing of tickets resembles the exchange of his possession of Y/n to this guy. But Kuroo has to remind himself that Y/n was never his to possess in the first place.

“Theater number four. Right down the left hallway.” When Y/n and the guy walk off, Kuroo doesn’t even hesitate before looking back at them. He awaits some sort of action from Y/n. But none comes. She keeps her head straight looking forward. No winks, no tongue sticking out to tease Kuroo, no peace sign, no half heart with her left hand.

He listens in as he hears her utter a small phrase in excitement.

“This is my favorite movie!”

[I guess he’s done it for you, I guess he’s done it for me]

...2... (the one where she works at a theater)

It was a sunny day and the heat of the sun’s rays threatened to melt any person in sight. But for one of the least popular theaters in Tokyo, it was nice and cold inside the building. Not just from the absence of customers but also because they had only one employee on duty, and she liked it to be cold inside the theater. Groups of people walked past the theater, enjoying the chilly air that escaped from under the door, but they never went inside because they had better things to do than watch a movie.

Sitting on a tall chair, resting her elbow on the high counter, her face leaning on her knuckles, Y/n scrolled through her phone. As much as she enjoyed getting paid for doing nothing, she would like it if there was at least one person to talk to. Otherwise she felt like the theater was haunted. And while she did have a fondness for ghosts, she did not like being left alone for eight hours. The absence of human contact was making her feel like some sort of outcast, thrown to the side because she had a summer job.

But when she heard the way the customer cleared his throat a blithe smile creeped onto her face. Even though not many people came to the theater, there was still one person that Y/n could rely on to come visit her at least once a week. Kuroo Tetsurou. He never failed to be a great person to talk to, considering he was easily flustered, but in the week that had passed, his confidence and casual responses had improved and therefore allured her.

“One ticket for any movie.” Kuroo extends his arms out and gives an exuberant shrug.

“At this point Tetsuro, I’m starting to think you come here just so you can talk to me.” Y/n sets her phone down and leans towards him. Eyeing him as his Adam's apple bobs up and down slightly. He is dressed in some sort of valet get-up, wearing a red button up shirt with slightly wrinkled black dress pants.

He grimaces before giving a shy smile and continuing, "And if that was true?”

She reaches over the counter to ruffle his black hair, messing it up in the process. Giving a smirk, she bares her teeth and runs her tongue over the top row. Kuroo swallows thickly, loosening his collared shirt. Even though the theater is cold, the space that encircles them has risen in both temperature and tension.

“I would say to try and flirt just a little bit harder next time.” When Y/n goes back to sitting up straight she rings him up at the register, “That’ll be eleven fifty.”

“Actually, make it two tickets.” Kuroo puts his hands on the counter and puts his face in close next to hers. “You go on a break soon, anyway right? Let’s blow this place and go on a date.” His flirting would have worked on her, had it not been for the intense blush climbing up from his neck and reaching down from his ears.

She kisses his nose before pushing him back with her pointer finger, breaking his balance after being stunned by the kiss. She giggles before adding the additional charge to his purchase. Ringing up another ticket she slides the ticket stubs across the counter and grins with a collected manner, switching to her customer service mode. “That’ll be twenty-three dollars then.”

“For the kiss or for the tickets?” Kuroo slyly offers, slipping the tickets into his pant pocket. She gasps slightly before hopping off her chair and walking around the counter to close some distance between them. Raising her eyebrow, she puts a hand on his chest before gripping his shirt and pulling him in closer.

“Which one did you want it to be for?” Tilting her head to the side slightly.

Y/n hopes it was just the tickets. Even though she had displayed a certain demeanor around him, she really did hope he was earnest in his attempts to ask her out. Falling for Kuroo wasn’t planned, but he made her feel like she wasn’t weird or overly bold, or even trying to hide insecurities by flirting. Flirting with Kuroo was fun, light-hearted, and real.

“Considering I’m basically broke from buying all those movie tickets, the least you could do is give me,” He rubs his chin slightly, in mock thought, "Let's see, carrying the seven, you should give me thirty kisses to be in proper compensation with all the tickets.”

“You only bought ten tickets though,” Y/n pouted. Kuroo felt his body subconsciously try to get closer, close enough to kiss her. There was no reason for him to not want to get close to her, he likes her. If his attraction was purely on Y/n’s looks, he would like her, but since she had her unique personality his attraction towards her expanded tenfold.

He had endured weeks of teasing touches and had undergone numerous bouts of self-doubt as he paced back and forth in front of the theater. Running his hand through his hair as he glanced through the glass of the door to get a glimpse of her. The least she could do was give him a kiss. Getting the kiss would be the easy part, getting her to go on a date with him would be the challenge.

“I said to carry the seven.” Kuroo cupped the back of her neck with his hand, using his other arm to pull her in by her waist.

“Ah, never mind, carrying the seven does total up to thirty kisses.” She smiled, laughing slightly before lightly brushing her lips against his.

He pushes his face up close to hers, their noses rubbing into each other. “A real kiss.” Kuroo’s voice is low and quiet, rumbling slightly in his chest.

“What's the magic word?” Y/n closes her eyes and puts her hands on his shoulders pulling him in closer, if that was even possible considering how close they already were.

“Please.”

[writer-rider-flirty-thirties]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Marinette is so tired of everything. When given the chance will she stay? Or will she go?

3/3 Chapters

28/30 of the Thirty in One series

Commissioned Art for this fic:

Post by @writer-rider-flirty-thirties · 2 images

💬 1  🔁 85  ❤️ 449 · "It's a happy ending." He assures though. "A very happy ending." I commisioned these wonderful pieces from @carolgpr fo

Post by @writer-rider-flirty-thirties · 2 images

💬 0  🔁 44  ❤️ 275 · They say the three of them achieved all their dreams and are still the best of friends til this day. They say the blond

[cloudycaffeinatedcryptid]

i am disgusted i am revolted i dedicate four days to our lord & savior Markiplier & this is the thanks i get???

[i-did-not-mean-to]

May I request an angst about Maedhros? Gender neutral/Fingon whom he is courting. He's saved from Angbang, but through all the trauma and self hatred he believes they are better off without him and let's them go? Cries and tears as they tries to explain to him that can work out together? Maybe 2 alternative endings? Fluffing ending and angst ending? Please && Thank you for your time 😊

Dear anon, I do not do angst very well, I am very sorry.

BTW, I went with gn Fingon 🤷🏻‍♀️ looool

I've given it a shot, but I like them a lot and I truly hope you'll be choosing the ending under the sun banner rather than the one under the night banner...

Words: 1,5k

Characters: Maedhros x Fingon

Warnings: I've tried my hand at some (very) light angst

At first, the silence was deafening.

It took a good moment before his dazed mind could pick up on the small sounds and noises filtering through the deceiving hush that was habitually drawn like a veil over sickrooms and households struck by tragedy.

The heavy, quick steps screaming their impatience were Tyelko’s and the nervous humming vibrating against his sweat-sheened skin let him know that Maglor was dreading this confrontation; he had no doubt that they were all there, waiting for the heavy door to be tugged open so they could heap their worry and anger in a tangled ball of but half-baked emotions onto his crumbling form.

It had ever been thus, and he would not have had it any other way.

In his younger days, he had often wondered why he had grown so very tall, but now he knew: his body was the shrine and sepulchre of his brothers’ most precious memories that had to be left behind when the world around them fell apart. In his blood, he kept samples of their tears – helpless, frightened, angry tears shed over mishaps and quarrels – from a time when they had still cried, and his skin was a map of the imaginary adventures they had set out on back when they could not even have imagined what terrible actions lay in their future.

Maedhros looked down on the tightly bandaged wrist and he saw that hand that was no more; it would leave bloody prints on everything henceforth that might be invisible to everybody else, but he’d know.

This hand had been Fingon’s, their love had been etched into every line, and – for a single instant – he wondered if the Enemy would peruse the epic, desperate, monumental story he had marred with a mocking smile. He remembered the blades and talons opening each cherished scar on his once so beautiful body to befoul the memorial of a youth spent as a protector and friend; he had been stripped of more than his dignity, he had been robbed of his very purpose.

The person staring back at him from the blurry looking glass was a stranger wearing his skin, a threat arrayed in familiar colours, and he took a deep shuddering breath. He had not merely been injured and poisoned, no, he had been turned into a well of toxic hurt himself so that he might defile everything he touched.

Boundless and merciless was the Enemy’s guile and cruelty.

A sudden blur of movement startled him into stumbling back like a frightened beast, teeth bared and lone remaining hand lifted as if to strike, but then he realised that it was his beloved – crouched in a corner of the room like a ghost – who had come forth to check on him.

“Your brothers are here,” they informed him gently, just in case he had not deciphered the thousand sounds that had been the melody to his life as much as his own heartbeat echoing in his shapely ears.

“They may wait,” he croaked – his voice a jumble of sharp-edged shards grating along his windpipe – and cleared his throat a few times in vain, “I need to talk to you first.”

He could see in the eyes of the one he had loved with such a self-evident ease all his life that Fingon knew what was to come; they always did and that was part of why their relationship had been so effortless – despite the shifting sands of treacherous circumstances – hitherto.

“I shall leave with them.”

“You are too weak to travel!” Fingon’s eyes flashed with indignation and a fear he had never expected to discern in a soul so valiant.

With a sigh, he repeated himself slowly; he would not stay around to see the corruption implanted into his flesh hatch and devour what he held dearest in this life. Selfishness had never been a luxury afforded to him and so, he knew only too well what sacrifice was to be brought in order to save his beloved Fingon.

Your destruction ends with me, he thought bitterly, I shall curl up around the wounds wrought upon me and feast on the darkness gnawing through my being in solitude; the endless circle of desolation you’ve embedded into my flesh and bone – one cut at a time – shall find no other outlet, you are now my prisoner.

Tears sprang into Fingon’s eyes with that sudden energy that always came so naturally to their strong body; but then, they stilled as if stricken by sudden cold, as if wrenched back onto the icy wastes they had crossed to find their half-cousin, as if death itself had wrapped its cold arms around them.

Angsty ending

“We can figure this out together,” Fingon said then, a sigh like a gust of wind weaving through their words, “I can’t lose you again.”

“It’s not again, love,” Maedhros replied in a hollow voice, gravelly with regret and disuse, “you’ve cut my body off the rock, but you couldn’t carve the corruption out of my soul lest you dig right through me.”

“NO!”

Fingon had such faith; they had forgiven the burning of the ships and the suffering it had brought, and – of this Maedhros was almost certain – they’d accept and embrace this danger with as much foolhardy eagerness if it would just keep him by their side as well.

“I can’t,” he sighed, “I have to look to my own now. My brothers need me.” They are enmeshed in my doom anyway, he thought, and it will cost me my life – whether in a singular burst of agony or in tiny torturous increments – to uphold the many vain, but binding promises I’ve made out of love or despair. 

He knew that it was vicious and unforgivable, but he did not bring up his doubts about soiling the purity of Fingon’s soul which was so very important to him for it reminded him of all the good things he was fighting to protect; his lover would rail and protest, and he’d be swayed by their loving arms and words.

No, this burden was his to carry in silence and in solitude.

He had to cut this golden tether to a better future before his doom would drag Fingon down along with him; he had to try to save as many of the remaining beacons of hopes of his grandfather’s people as he possibly could. He was too jaded now to believe – even for a single moment – that it would counterbalance the crimes that were yet but festerineg seeds within his core, ready to burst forth to choke out life and light, but he would struggle against those malicious vines tirelessly until they devoured the last remnants of his essence in their insatiable greed. 

“Call them in, please,” he declared as he felt his soul wither and die within a pale, seizing chest; the dice had been cast and he would follow the path he had been chained to without looking back lest he succumb to the temptation of fleeting, sweet happiness oft promised and ever out of reach.

Fluff ending

“We can figure this out together,” Fingon said then, a sigh like a gust of wind weaving through their words, “I can’t lose you again.”

Maedhros understood; too often had they taken leave from one another to face unfathomable dangers without knowing if they’d ever get the chance to lay eyes upon that beloved face, distorting into a tiny, blurry dot in the distance, once more.

“I love you more than this,” they pleaded, “and I am so sorry about your hand, but – you of all people must understand this – there are promises so sacred that no sacrifice, no matter how gruesome, will keep one from fulfilling them.”

“Which terrible oath have you sworn then, my dearest heart?” Maedhros asked warily, rubbing stiff fingers over an expressionless face that adamantly concealed the turmoil under the surface of that scarred and mutilated skin.

“To love you, to be by your side,” Fingon replied calmly, “you are not the only one to have pledged your life blood to another. Leaving me equates killing me in the most heartless of fashions, Russo, for I’d wander lost in the unending darkness forevermore.”

I’ll die at your side, they thought peacefully, so it was written and so it shall be done.

“Oh Finno!” Finally, the dam broke and tears – his and all the ones he had preserved within the depthless well of his immortal soul – spilled forth like ink in which Fingon’s whole life had been scribbled down haphazardly; they threw their arms around the one they loved beyond reason and self-preservation.

“We’ll be alright,” they promised, ever believing that good faith and even better intentions would end up saving the day.

“Eventually,” Maedhros quipped without much conviction.

“Now,” Fingon opined, “or at least very soon. Let your brothers see you, we were all much afeared! Soothe their worry; you are back, and none of us will ever let you face the darkness alone again.”

It was weakness, pervading and insidious, that made the tall elven lord shiver in the tight embrace; he knew what price Fingon would have to pay if he didn’t manage to send them away, but he could not bear to let go of the last vestige of innocence and hope that had not yet been wrested from him by unfeeling hands.

With a soundless sigh, he pressed his lips upon that devotedly upturned face and nodded ponderously; he’d do better than his father, he’d keep those he loved most close, he’d keep them safe, he’d keep them alive at all costs. 

Dear anon, I hope this has satisfied you; I've given it my best shot...

I am sorry if I am not the angsty type of author 😬

Lots of love from me <3

[gothimothi]

Hehe. Hiiii

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[brookewritesyk]

Cheating or Not ➪ Tom Holland

Summary - Is Tom cheating or was it a big misunderstanding?

Warnings - Swearing, suspicion of cheating

818 Words

"Haz give me my phone back you twat!" Tom yelled at him as you can clearly see dear friend Harrison. "Why are you so protective of it?" He teased furrowing his eyebrows holding it above Tom's head like a child. Brooke laughed but slowly stopped as she realised Tom looked actually frustrated. "Wait, Tom what the fuck?!" Harrison exclaimed genuinely confused looking at his friend's phone. "Why have you been texting Olivia?" He asked looking at him and Brooke. "Olivia? Olivia Bolton the Olivia Bolton?" You asked Harrison still processing what Harrison just said. "Yeah! You know his ex!" He said looking at Tom with what-the-fuck eyes. "Umm I just need to go book a plane ticket to fly into a side of a mountain so will you excuse me." You said tearing up as it hit you like a brick wall he was cheating on me and not just that with his ex. You dash out of the house and got in your car. "Babe please." Turning your head you saw a desperate looking. In response, you rolled your window up and drove off. As you drove you heard Tom yelling off.

━━━━━━━━━━ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━

Alternative ending 1 (happy)

You arrive at yours and Toms apartment, as soon as you opened the door you collapsed onto the sofa still heavily crying. Suddenly, you heard a knock on the door and you knew exactly who it was. "Babe open up!" Tom yelled through the locked door. "No!" You yelled back your voice hoarse and cracking. "Baby please just let me explain!" He begged sniffling. You heard the sniffling and you thought maybe there is are the reason and it was just a misunderstanding. Therefore you got up and slowly unlocked the door. "Huh thank you, darling." He said relieved and sighing. "Explain." You said simply crossing your arms waiting for a response. "She was nagging me constantly and she said should stop if I started replying so I did and it just got worse." He explains whilst sobbing. "Oh honey, why didn't you tell me?" You soothe pulling him into a hug and playing with is brunette hair. "I don't know I-I was scared.” He whimpered tears staining your now navy blue shirt. "It's okay baby, it's okay I wasn't your fault." You cooed kissing his cheek. "But I should have told you or blocked her-" "It's okay I forgive you." "I love you, Brooke." "I love you too Tommy."

Alternative ending 2

You arrive at yours and Toms apartment, as soon as you opened the door you collapsed onto the sofa still heavily crying. Suddenly, you heard a knock on the door and you knew exactly who it was. "Babe open up!" Tom yelled through the locked door. "No!" You yelled back your voice hoarse and cracking. "Baby please just let me explain!" He begged sniffling. You heard the sniffling and you thought maybe there is are the reason and it was just a misunderstanding. Therefore you got up and slowly unlocked the door. "Thanks, babe." He said relieved he looked extremely guilty. "You cheated on me didn't you?" You asked pulling your sleeves on your blue shirt and wiped your eyes. "I'm sorry-" "YOU DID." You yelled hitting his chest weekly while sobbing. "I didn't mean it," Tom said desperately pushing you away so you wouldn't hit him. "No, of course, you didn't," You said regaining your calmness. "You didn't want to get caught." With that, you ran to your bedroom and rooted through your draws and grabbed as many closed and putting it in a suitcase. "What are you doing?" Tom asked nervously but deep down he knew what you were doing. "Leaving." You stated simply "W-what?" He said quietly get very anxious. "I am leaving, we're done so I'm leaving." You said again emotionless. "One more kiss," Tom begged. "Huh?" You said baffled. "One last kiss and I-I will let you go I promise." He said hoping that the kiss would win you over. "Fine." You huffed you leaned forward and kissed him for the last time. A few seconds later you tried to pull away. "No please don't pull away," Tom begged against your lips. You pulled away even though his constant plea not to. Turning around you picked up your suitcase and headed for the door. Then, Tom dropped onto his knee and pleaded desperately "Please, my baby Brooke don't leave it was a mistake and a mistake I will never make again just please don't leave I need you, I love you." "You know what Tom?" "What?" He sobbed "I loved you too."