#mysterious ending

[aventurineswife]

The rain was relentless, a cold, steady downpour that made the world around you blur into muted shadows and shimmering reflections. The alleyway where you had led Aventurine was eerily quiet, the only sound the gentle hiss of raindrops against the concrete and the distant rumble of thunder.

You straddled him, your knees pressing into the wet ground as you held the cold steel of the knife against his neck. His eyes—those damn eyes—were locked on yours, a mesmerizing swirl of intensity and mystery. The tip of the blade gleamed in the dim light, its weight a constant reminder of the task you had set out to complete. The task you had promised yourself to finish.

But now, as you looked at him—really looked at him—you couldn’t deny the truth that had slowly crept up on you.

You had fallen for him.

Aventurine's lips curled into a faint smile, that all-knowing, cocky grin of his that never seemed to fade. He didn’t look scared. Not really. If anything, he looked... intrigued. Amused, even.

"My best enemy is you," he said softly, his voice almost drowned out by the storm.

Your heart clenched at his words. He always had a way of twisting everything, even now, as your knife hovered over his throat. Your fingers tightened around the handle, but you couldn’t bring yourself to strike. The reality of what you were about to do weighed heavily on you, a crushing burden that made every breath feel shallow, every thought fragmented.

“Shut up, or I’ll slit your throat open.” you hissed, trying to keep your composure. But your voice wavered, betraying the turmoil within you.

Aventurine’s smile softened, almost imperceptibly, but his gaze never wavered from yours. He reached up slowly, his fingers brushing the side of your face, his touch light but deliberate. The warmth of his hand made your breath catch, a sharp, involuntary response to his touch. You flinched, a reflex you couldn’t control, and he noticed. His fingers lingered in your hair, tucking a wet strand behind your ear as he whispered, “You’re beautiful…”

The words were gentle, and they cut through the storm in a way nothing else could. His voice, low and sincere, felt like a knife to your chest. You felt everything—his warmth, his tenderness, and yet... everything you had worked for, everything you had planned, suddenly felt so fragile.

You pressed the knife harder against his throat, the cold steel against his skin a tangible reminder of your mission. But your resolve was slipping. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He was the enemy. You were supposed to end him.

"Don’t... don’t say that," you whispered, your voice trembling despite yourself. "I’m not... I'm not who you think I am."

Aventurine’s eyes softened for the briefest of moments, a flicker of understanding in his gaze. His hand remained in your hair, the touch lingering, as if he knew the battle raging inside you.

For a moment, there was only the sound of the rain, the distant thunder, and the beating of your own heart. The world seemed to slow, the decision you had to make hanging in the air between you like a fragile thread.

And then, he whispered again, "You don’t have to do this."

You wanted to believe him. You wanted to so badly. But the knife in your hand was the only thing that felt real, the only thing that tied you to the life you had chosen. The life you had to live.

But even as you wavered, even as your heart screamed at you to stop, you knew it was too late. You had already crossed the line. There was no turning back now.

You pressed the knife just a little harder, feeling the tension build between you, both of you trapped in this moment of conflict and pain. The rain soaked your clothes, plastering them to your skin, but it couldn’t wash away the weight of your decision.

Aventurine's smile never left his lips, even as your hand trembled, poised to strike.

And in that instant, you wondered if he had known all along. If he had always been playing the game, just like you.

"Goodbye..." you whispered, your voice barely audible over the storm.

You closed your eyes, the knife ready to deliver its final blow, but then you paused.

What if, in that moment, you weren’t the only one playing the game?

The rain fell harder.

I'm not sorry 🏃‍♀️💚💛

[thankstothe]

eat him alive <3

[weevmo]

Just felt like doodling some senseless cute Mush starring my favorite pooch! And his Momma! I cannot wait to learn more about them -

[scribz-ag24]

What if the Time Gears had actually threatening guardians.

[time-woods]

EMOTIONAL WIN ! ! the bug lets his emotions make decisions for once !

[canisalbus]

I swapped them around in a silly doodle

.

[somnoir]

How to pull a Batman by J. Constantine

John Constantine wouldn't say he was quite fond of children. He's not fatherly by any means so he knows that he's not suitable for raising children. It's just that he somehow ends up with a young girl at his front door (how she found the house of mystery, he's not sure). The little girl looked normal but she felt off. Too drenched in death to be a run-of-the-mill child. Her red hair seemed to turn into flames at the tips, and her eyes were eerily teal and glowed. Everything about her seemed wrong.

"Hello." She murmured, "Clockwork told me to come find you."

And she was just blinking, looking utterly uncanny as John reluctantly welcomed her into the house. "Master of Time?" He hesitated, knowing that amongst the many powerful beings he'd met the ancient of time had been one of them. A mirthful entity who seemed amused by the chaos and order of the multiverse. 

"He told me to give you this!" The girl fished out a glowing green paper from... y'know, he's not sure. 

And in mocking calligraphy the words:

"You owe me :). p.s. there's more."

was directed at John like a fucking signal. 

Great... Being indebted to the cosmic entity of time has made him a father.

He thought it'd happen one time. Just once. Little Jasmine was adept at the occult and got along well with ghosts, often playing peacemaker when one of them tried bothering Constantine. She was concerningly liminal for a twelve-year-old child, but she brushed it of for the fact that her siblings were either halfas or very liminal. Was he concerned, admittedly yes. 

It wasn't until there was a pounding at the door again did he start praying to any god willing to listen. But no. The sentient house practically dragged him through the halls and led him to where Jazz was eagerly waiting, a grin on her face. 

"My baby brothers are here!" She excitedly says, eyes practically sparkling as she grabs him by the hand. 

"Slow down, darlin'. They won't bloody leave if we slow down." He sighed in exasperation, before pulling the door open. Two pairs of eyes stared into his very soul, making his breath hitch.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. What the hell was Clockwork sending him?!

"Danny! Dan" Jazz squealed, dragging the two halfas into the house. One with green eyes and another with red. 

"Clockie wasn't kidding when he said he's a sad guy in a trench coat." The one with green eyes muttered, still floating and staying close to Jazz and his twin. 

"Clockwork slept with that?" The red-eyed one unabashedly judged. "Another fruitloop..." The boy snarled.

John Constantine could already predict the future at this point.

Daniel and Dante take to the house immediately, haunting it to their hearts content.

In the course of four years, the hellblazer drowns in the depths of fatherhood, making sure that no one could find out about his children. No. Not even Batman.

He'd be damned (even more) than let anyone involve the best parts of his life in contingency plans and whatnot. 

His kids grow up to be a rowdy and peculiar bunch.

His eldest, Jazz, was turning out to be one hell of a magician. Especially in necromantic arts that he's tried not to touch many times.

The twins, Danny and Dante were little hellions that made him want to tear his hair out. Its later on when Clockwork comes to visit their children (because its joint custody now) that he's informed that one is the crown prince of the realms and to be king upon the expiration of his mortality, and the other was an alternate version of him and was dubbed the world destroyer. 

His fourth child and second daughter had come in the form of Sam, who had popped up in the house and was decorating it with plants he from different dimensions. Also, she was apparently a green witch that now had the powers of the spirit known as undergrowth. The house was green.

His fifth child came in the form of a boy with a red hat and a laptop clutched against his chest. Tucker had seemed so harmless and sweet compared to his older siblings... until John found him performing ancient egyptian rituals and casually hacking into the Pentagon for fun. 

His last (Thank god) daughter was a zoomie toddler. Little Elle had arrived three years after Jazz did. A five year old with such intense wanderlust that he was tempted to buy one of those harness leash thingies parents had their children wear. Also, like the twins in which she was the clone of, she was one hell of a child being directly connected to the speed force.

So in conclusion, John Constantine was the father of three children on the verge of becoming Ancients, a highly intelligent girl with a very deep connection to death, the successor of fucking Undergrowth, and a boy who could effortlessly hack into government systems whilst being a pharao-in-training. 

Batman must never know.

In the far future, John Constantine battles it out with Bruce Wayne, who's children thought it was a good idea to start flirting with his hellions.

Constantine: TO HELL WITH YOU IF YOU THINK IM LETTING MY PERFECT JAZZY PANTS DATE YOUR FLIPPY SON!

Bruce: SHE'S GOOD FOR HIM!

Constantine: YEAH WILL IS HE GOOD FOR HER?!

And then it gets worse once John catches the Red Hood displaying some ghostly courting behaviour towards Dan. And he's just.

Constantine: Tell your children to back off.

Bruce: You think I haven't tried???

Then comes Danny and Tim with their unhinged behavior. Constantine isn't even mad about the fact that his son is dating one of the Bats. He's just concerned about the chaos with these two.

Bruce: okay, that one is not allowed. How do we get them to break up?

Constantine who's already witnessed Danny making plans to brutally murder Ra's for some spleen: Yeah, no. Good luck with that one.

By the time it's just Sam, Tucked, and Elle, he's praying it's not one of the Bats.

He really is.

Tucked is emmersed in his work but that didn't stop him from befriending Bart Allen and the current Kid Flash. Time travel is the one they usually discuss. (Dante and Constantine were very much on the same page when it came to keeping them just friends.)

And then Sam somehow ends up catching the attention of a daughter of Zeus. By this point, Constantine was preparing to fight god again and would have to ask his ex for a favor.

He's just so happy his precious princess Elle was being a sweet fifteen years old and wasn't daring crazy people.

(Damian was being rather suspicious...)

[beetlbi]

GF au where Stan died/disappeared under ~mysterious~ circumstances just before breaking Fords science project. The only thing left behind was a still running perpetual motion machine and an empty bag of toffee peanuts

[flavoredmagpie]

[Part 2]

Ben’s death in the original timeline has more to it than it seems… Turns out its a key event meant to always happen in every timeline… The siblings realize that Ben’s body serve as a portal to another realm of dangerous entities that are bent on coming to this side… it doesn’t help that their Ben is escalating…

[Part 1] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]

[qiu-yan]

he would never actually do this, but i like to imagine that at jin guangshan's funeral, jiggy arranged for jin guangshan's casket to "accidentally" slip out of the pallbearers' hands and slide down all 200+ of the jinlintai stairs. bump bump bump bump bump bitch

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Let the revenge games begin.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[poirott]

AGATHA CHRISTIE'S POIROT series final scene 13x05 "Curtain"

"Words really can't express how much that obsessive, kindly, gentle man with his mincing walk, his 'little grey cells' and his extraordinary accent had come to mean to me. To lose him now, after so long, was like losing the dearest of friends, even though I was only an actor playing a part." - David Suchet, Poirot and Me

[ineffectualdemon]

How many times over the years do you think Shen Qingqiu has painted Binghe? How many pictures does he have of his white lotus? How many of his husband?

Does he have a Binghe cupboard where he keeps them?

When he was mourning Binghe in the Abyss did people come in to see him sad in a house covered in portraits of his disciple?

Because you cannot convince me this man who waxes poetic about Binghe's eyes every chance he gets didn't constantly try to capture that while being master of the Arts Peak!?

And of course he would never acknowledge that he's done this in his head because self delusion is his super power

Which gives the image post marriage of Binghe crying and asking if Shizun really loves him while in a house plastered with portraits of himself from age 14 to that morning

[scribz-ag24]

partner calls out grovyle over that teeny tiny detail he forgot to explain about the plan to save the planet.

[sgt-dignam]

aren't there 12 notes in a scale? what'd you say? music. my mom was a piano teacher. she used to say that music is the universal language.

FROM | 3.10 - Revelations: Chapter Two

[canisalbus]

Hypothetically if. If they had a kiddo. A puppy. Does that hypothetical child have a design in your genius artist head anywhere

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