#it hath struck again

[nopeferatu]

gen xers and old millenials on tiktok are eating borax now, for some strange reason, and i just can't believe that these are the same people who made fun of kids for eating tidepods back in like 2017

#the forbidden fruit that is laundry agents hath struck again

[feliciadraws]

Waka...training with his swords...in a bamboo forest...shirtless...uuuuuhhhhhhh 🥵

It's been way too long since I posted shirtless Waka on here, and I already posted a wip sketch of this so here we go baby! AAUAAUAUAhhdhggfjgfjhifsf LOOK AT HIM 🥵🌙

Tagging fellow Waka appreciator @riichigo, since she's just as weak for shirtless ponytail Waka as I am, hehehe, also @mrslittletall for blessing my simpy eyeballs with something remarkably similar from Twitter!

#okami #okami waka #waka #okami fanart #my artwork #THE SIMP QUEEN COMETH #THE SIMP QUEEN HATH STRUCK AGAIN MUAHAHAHAHA! #But no really for real it's been way too long since my sexyman got some appreciation #but ahahahshhhashdfeuiuin #fjkhfhukinuifdhuirhuiehiehi #GOING FERAL #*foams at the mouth* #ugh you hot hot sunovabish

[iron-sides]

wonder woman movies have bad greek mythology incident 10 dead 4 wounded

#my thots #lol tried to watch the 2016(?idfk the first one) wonder woman and um #WOW GIRL THAT IS NOT WHAT THE GREEK MYTH ABOUT HUMANITY IS #hholy shit. holy fucking shit. i can never watch that movie again huh? this is just like marvels thor..... #>:T #augh. anyway. tragedy hath struck but ill live ig

[poisonpeche]

Hi I just followed you bc you showed up on my dash and I love your art!! But then I saw this LMAOOO

Oh my god hello & WELCOME.🖤🖤🖤

Be prepared for one shit show after the other on this here blog o’ mine.

Thank you so much for your kindness & there will be oodles more art to come your way! TRUST.

Thank you so much for giving Rave Bunny GTA Hooker Levi some love!! I see you!

THAT PIKACHU MAN IS A SUBLIMINAL MESSAGE AWAY FROM CREEPING INTO MY NIGHTMARES. I’m THROUGH.

Tumblr, we have had ENOUGH, ya hear me??

Lmaoooxndndns so happy to have you & thank you so much for the follow, my dear!!

#new friends #pikachu man hath struck AGAIN #they won’t give us new useful tumblr features but they will give us…whatever the fuck that thing is #welcome!!! #🖤🖤🖤

[py-dreamer]

So... I know I'm late...

But yea! I said I was coming back with some stickers and I kept my word! I would've hoped that I could've completed the sheet in like a day but as you can see...that didn't work out

I know I've been a bit MIA lately but burnout sucks. I do have a lot of WIPS I really want to work on but again, it seems that the ProcrastiNation hath struck my feeble mortal brain again.

But anyways:

I headcanon Aroace Mei, just a personal headcanon (disagree if you like) I also like lesbian Mei but thought I'd give some aroace appreciation

Silktea was only given 1 episode but OH BOY did it fuel our wild shipping habits. And I jumped on the bandwagon. It's a reference to that scene in She-Ra where Scorpia tells Catra she 'didn't want to do this' then wraps kitty up in the blankey and cradles her like a wee baby. And Sandy would do that for any friend, I will die on this hill

Saw a fanart where Mk had a pig nose themed pacifier and I just yoinked that idea. The pig hoodie and the pacifier seems like something Tang would do for Pigsy (also to get away with free noodles cause who can say no to that face?~)

Mac showing Wukong the lantern. What can I say, mans' fascinated by them pretty lights. Though our little performer's eyes seem to be straying from the show (^u ')

I know many people have issues with shipping with Nezha and such and I know the two had a rough history but y'know what fans do; they love to make the people who kill each other soulmates (platonic, romantic or otherwise) Even if it wasn't romantic, I still love the idea of them being buddies and just chilling, the danger noodle prince and the angy prince snuggle and watch a movie (mainly from Nezha 2019 but I also saw New Gods and can I just say, I want those two twinks to bicker then kiss awkwardly and I want Yun Xiang to BEAT. HIS. ASS) but in case anyone asks, I do perceive Nezha to be a consenting adult in general outside shipping drama and if the two are adults, it does make my heart squeal when I see these two hold hands and whatnot

HOW COULD I EVER FORGET MY SPICYBOIS, inspired by that one Ponyo kiss scene. I was actually gonna make a bigger piece but then I saw someone do it already in a much better fashion than I ever could and I just gave up on the idea but Ig here, its just like the two cakes mentality and I gave it a go. Hope I could do the concept justice

Have spider queen or scorpion queen ever interacted before? No. But they are both queens and I believe Spider Queen's confidence could rub off on Scorpion Queen and she'd appreciate the company of Spider Queen's children henchmen. Also she give yummy food so lesbian venomqueens for the win

Redraw of that moment with Peng and Azure. I normally detest that bird but these two do get some gears grinding and whatever anyone says. Neither of those two are straight. I'll tell ya that.

Toxicinsanity is another rarepair that had like 1 sec screen time. I don't think they'd ever work out in canon and had virtually no chemistry. I still love all the fluffy ship content I can find of them though and if it ever were to happen. I think the mayor would scare the sh!t out of Syntax

Let's get at least one hetero couple here, Chang'e and Hou'Yi are a couple of favorites ngl, I took most of their outfits from Over the moon cause both of them looked stunning, Chang'e especially. I've seen people ship mah girl with other people and while I do agree it's healthy to move on, in my heart she will always long for Hou'Yi

Also irl, on valentines, my mum took us out for lunch, she treated us to bubble tea and donuts. We walked home so I waited to drink mah drink in my room while I drew and I accidentally finished it all... I'm so sorry mum

f*ck I forgot ironbull. Uhh....I'll draw something later, rn I need to go to bed before I get yelled at...

click pic for less sh!ty quality!

#lmk #my beloved #lego monkie kid #pog champ #py's_art #lmk mk #lmk red son #happy valentine's day #lmk fanart #spicynoodles #lmk mei #lmk wukong #lmk macaque #lmk pigsy #lmk tang #lmk sandy #lmk huntsman #lmk syntax #lmk spider queen #lmk spider demons #lmk mayor #lmk scorpion queen #lmk nezha #shadowpeach #silktea #lmk freenoodles #Inkyfeathers #toxicinsanity #venomqueens #lotusdragon

[seneon]

senation lore part two : ice kingdom

WAR AFTER WARS... the kingdom of senation remains powerful and strong under the leadership and ruling of king sen, their mighty and conquering king. however, one day, the king felt silly and decided to venture away from his piles of paperworks. no weapons, no nothing. just a silly little letter addressed to his loyalest greatest servant.

so he ventured as he said he would. for hours he walked in the forest like a baka, not knowing where to go or what to do. just keep walking, tripping, and praying to the lord that he didn't even get up from his throne. he is lost. oh but! there's a giant magical portal there 😧😧😧

mighty king sen is curious. he then ventured through the magical blue / white portal in the middle of the woods. why? all out of the interest of skipping paperwork duties. he might be a might king in battle, but irl, he's lazy about paperworks. anyways.

a white light flashed before his majesty, revealing a beautiful woman in all glistening white. there is a flower in his hand, coincidentally, so he knelt down and offered the flower to the beautiful fairy. however. when she took the flower, she immediately FROZE. then the king flashed his eyes opened.

"heavens! what a realistically artistic image of a maiden in completely glorious and heavenly white garment that i just hath in my brains!!"

fast forward ⏩⏩⏩

people of the ice found the king venturing alone in the snow. of course, he is confused. however, they explained to him and said "great lord! you are our saviour! save us from cold hell!!!" and the king replied "of course! i am conquering sen overall! i shall save thee kingdom!!" he realised he has some cool gears on with an ice sword that never breaks, and realised that this.... is his time to shine. literally.

the ice people then prepared for war and they summoned their secret trump alpha monster card to assist king sen in the war. one of them then led the king to the ice palace, where the evil dark ice lord is.

together, they set out for war after regathering with the rest.

duudududud

WAAAAAARRRRRRR!!!!!!!

HIYYA

HUACKS

UEGH

EUFK

SHING

KACHING

RAAAARRGGGHHHHHH

WE FIGHT FOR FREEEDOOMMMM!!!!!

in the end... dark ice lord lost with the @saewako ice blade struck through his chest... and the ice nation...?

"MIGHTY SAVIOR SEN! MIGHTY SAVIOUR SEN! MIGHT SAVIOUR SEN!!!"

mighty and conquering sen once again saved the world (a land he didn't know how or why he got involved in but it's ok it's all good.) the ice people then thanked him and helped him prepare for his journey back to senation.

they bid each other goodbye, and that is the end of it. back in senation, general @milyz found the king stranded in the forest and immediately took king sen back to his palace. while king sen told the story to the general, the general laughed it off as the king being exposed too much poisonous plants in the forest and all that he needs is rest.

does the king know he killed the only king of the ice kingdom while all the ice people are evil...? well. that is for you to figure out.

𝖑𝖔𝖓𝖌 𝖑𝖎𝖛𝖊 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖘𝖊𝖓𝖊𝖔𝖓.

STARRING. @milyz @saewako @amourlyns @wishmemel @saelestia @atrirose @rinzsu @omitea @hyoismbbg @todorokies @kaiser1ns @rizzmin @steleir @noirflms @peaktora @iluvies @sugurustattoo @bfajax @saturvue @honeydewsblue

note: hope u guys enjoyed pt2 of senation lore. read part one here. once again, this is pure crack 😭😭 pls don't kill me btw i spun the wheel to determine your roles mooties

#⋆ ❨ writing ❩ ֢֢֢ ۟ #⋆ ❨ sennies ❩ ֢֢֢ ۟ #senation lore

[choicesmaychallenge24]

MAY 2024 PROMPTS

Have fun! Take liberties! Be weird!

Playlist Inspo

SPOTIFY || YOUTUBE

Deity Inspo

(extensive list of Dieties can be found here)

Zeus

Power, Oak tree, unfaithful

"Statistically, you've got better chances being struck by lightning"

Hera

Marriage, revenge, peacock

"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned"

Poseidon

Ocean, earthquakes, horses

"stormy eyes"

Demeter

Wheat fields, middle child, poppy

"...moods that changed like the weather"

Apollo

Harp, medicine, prophesy

"...like they were the sun"

Artemis

Wilderness, moon, archery

"lets go lesbians, lets go!"

Ares

War, strength, hated

"Don't be a boar"

Athena

Wisdom, strategy, owl

"You're giving me a headache"

Hephaestus

Inventive, disability, overlooked

"...Like a volcano about to erupt"

Aphrodite

Pearls, swan, passion

"You know ___ is an aphrodisiac"

Hermes

Guide, messages, travel

"That's just an eloquent way of saying, 'fuck you.'"

Hestia

Home comforts, Eldest Daughter problems, gentle

"Sometimes a family is (insert found family here)"

Dionysus

Wine, celebration, mania

"I heard it though the grapevine..."

Nyx

Mysterious, rest, starlight

"Goodnight, My Love"

Hades

Rich, death, responsibility

"who's a good puppy?"

Quotes

"You wish to be considered righteous, but not to act with justice." (Eumenides)

"Talk sense to a fool and he calls you foolish." (The Bacchae)

"Isn’t it delightful to forget how old we are?" (The Bacchae)

"I was born to join in love, not hate - that is my nature" (Antigone)

“I have no love for a friend who loves in words alone.” (Antigone)

“Have you ever been struck by a sudden desire for - soup?” (The Frogs)

Dionysus [doing everything wrong], "Like that?" (The Frogs)

“If you try to cure evil with evil, you will add more pain to your fate.” (Ajax)

“Which would you choose if you could: pleasure for yourself despite your friends, or a share in their grief?” (Ajax)

“I ask this one thing: let me go mad in my own way.” (Electra)

"Oh, it is easy for the one who stands outside the prison-wall of pain to exhort and teach the one who suffers” (Prometheus Bound)

“In childbirth grief begins.” (Medea)

"I'll take care of you."

"it's rotten work."

"Not to me. Not if it's you." (Euripides)

“Love, stealing with grace into the heart you wish to destroy, love, turning us blind with the bitter poison of desire, love come not my way. And when you whirl through the streets, wild steps to unchained rhythms, love, I pray you, brush not against me, love, I beg you, pass me by.” (The Love of the Nightingale)

“There is a time for many words, and there is also a time for sleep.” (The Odyssey)

“Be strong, saith my heart; I am a soldier; I have seen worse sights than this.” (The Odyssey)

"Any moment might be our last. Everything is more beautiful because we're doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again." (The Iliad)

FASHION INSPO

From Dolce & Gabbana

STORY INSPO

Many of these stories have different tellings and variations, embrace whichever version you most enjoy.

Echo and Narcissus (painting) (story)

Pandora's Box (painting) (story)

Arachne (painting) (story)

Hades and Persephone (painting) (story)

The Gorgon Medusa (painting) (story)

Cygnus (painting) (story)

Theseus, Ariadne, and the Minotaur (painting) (story)

Daedalus and Icarus (painting) (story)

Eros and Psyche (sculpture) (story)

Orpheus and Euydice (painting) (story)

Myth of Sisyphus (painting) (story)

Cassandra (painting) (story)

The Fates (painting) (story)

Atlas (sculpture) (story)

[highvern]

I’m rereading one of my favorite series from my childhood and it got me thinking about

magi-zoologist wonwoo who comes to visit your magical creature preservation to research the rare dark species living on the land

You get it. They’re fascinating things littered across the hundreds of acres your family has maintained for generations and the awe is never lost on you when you spot the more elusive ones come out from time to time but the last thing you need is to baby sit some nerd when you’re already dealing with constant chaos

Wonwoo isn’t bad at first. He’s incredibly enthusiastic about the revenant living in the abandoned marsh at the far end of the property. He says he observed one at the preserve in Africa and nearly lost his mind from getting a smidge too close but they’re so hard to learn about because you can’t get too close but it’s just so fascinating despite the very real threat of going catatonic.

It doesn’t inspire your confidence but Wonwoo continues to list off facts and knowledge you couldn’t care less about bc you’ll be damned if you take him anywhere near that thing when he’s already getting into trouble with all the other creatures he keeps trying to study because yes there is a fog giant bound to the southern end of the preserve and NO you cannot cross through the wraith’s territory to see the village of triclops isolated in the cliff side Jesus Christ are you trying to get us both killed? how have you survived so long?

When you tell him you don’t even visit some parts of the preserve because the creatures there are better left alone he almost looks at you with pity because they’re fascinating! Magic is fascinating! How can you not even be the smallest bit curious about what goes on out there?

But what’s worse than saving him from trolls and goblins are all the fairies and sprites living in your garden constantly trying to flirt with him (not that you’ve paid much attention)

And it certainly doesn’t help when Wonwoo looks at them with star struck eyes, sketching the rarer species in his journal with precision, because they’re incredibly vain and wait in line to preen their wings or show off their magic for him with the hopes they impress him enough to maintain his attention

so when he cuts his admirations short to discuss another excursion on the grounds with you they get jealous. And hell hath no fury like a fairy scorned because while they can’t technically attack you unprovoked they can make your life incredibly inconvenient. Some grow vines across your usual path in an effort to trip you or angle a sun beam that just so happens to hit your eyes and several outright snuff you when you come outside, flitting away into the woods until wonwoo joins but if he realizes he doesn’t seem to understand because his head is lost in his journal again

And isn’t until your taking Wonwoo to meet the herd of centaurs living on the preserve (he hadn’t shut up since you accidentally let it slip one morning) that you understand yeah he’s a bookworm but he’s more useful than he lets on because you stumble upon a pack of drumants way too close to the house than they should be, disturbing their nest and causing them to attack and without Wonwoo they would have easily taken you down because the little buggers are nearly invisible and while you can handle one or two, Wonwoo knows the tricks to unveil them and it’s Wonwoo who carries you back to the house after your bitten and administers the antivenom and the entire time he’s calm, spouting more facts about how lethal they are as if you aren’t losing color and almost passing out and when he does look at your face and realize he’s freaking you out he tries to crack a joke but your still wondering who the hell is this man and what did he do with Wonwoo who fell into a pile of basilisk shit because he didn’t watch where he was going two days ago

So maybe you start to understand why the fairies are so smitten with the man and you start taking him on more trips into the more dangerous parts of the preserves because you clearly underestimated him

And when it’s time for him to leave to another preserve for further research you won’t admit you’ll miss him but he promises he’ll write you with all the interesting findings and you nod along trying not to be upset because this was the inevitable end to his stay here and you knew from the start he’d be leaving

You’d swear he was blushing as he steps outside the door and you click it shut behind him but then there’s a knock not 20 seconds later and you open it to find wonwoo standing there looking at you the same way he stares at all the magical creatures, like you’re the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen and he wants to immortalize you in his notebook because he needs to know more

Um anyway!

#brain rot #Wonwoo #Jeon wonwoo #svt #🫡 highvern

[barrenclan]

THE DREAM CURSE HATH STRUCK AGAIN

After a while of hoping it would happen it did. And it was bonkers.

Okay so BeeFace and PlumStripe discovered they had latent superpowers. Like, they could fly and shoot lasers out of their paws. And after a few days of the discovery, they just have a big epic blockbuster movie level fight in the camp. So PinePaw, the little detective he is, does some digging. It turns out MallowStar is a cuck and Bee and Plum’s real dad is a supervillain.

THE DREAM CURSE AND ALL THAT

Beeface and Plumstripe with even more power sounds like a terrifying alternate reality. Also DAMN, poor Mallowstar.

#ask #anon #the dream curse

[ardentprose]

Candlelight Candor

A/N: This is the first public one shot I've written in a very long time so bear with me as I find my footing again.

Type: just sweet and simple fluff; Foggy Nelson x reader

Length: 4.8k~ | 20 min

Warnings: cursing; minor suggestive thoughts; fem!reader

Feel free to message me if a necessary warning isn't mentioned.

Summary: the worst storm of the decade, an unreliable old building, and being alone with your crush, Foggy Nelson

Hell hath no fury like a New York Nor’easter. It didn’t matter whether you had grown accustomed to the brutal winters in the city that never sleeps, because each summer lulled you into a false sense of serenity before winter struck again, the sky darkened, and ten inches of snow were threatening to bury the streets.

Any sane person would be hunkered down in their home, buried under an appropriate amount of blankets, and soundly sleeping away the precious hours gifted by the closing of the workplace.

Any sane person not in love, that is.

When you got the call that Karen was trapped north of the city, as the town she was investigating was hit with the storm first, you were tempted to hang up and go back to sleep. But how could you say no to:

“Good morning, sunshine!”

It took an embarrassingly small amount of convincing for Foggy Nelson to coax you from your haven and come to his law firm to lend an extra hand in the last day leading up to a case. The enigmatic lawyer had you wrapped around his finger and he didn’t even know it.

As you tugged on your heavy duty winter coat and forced your triple socked feet into your boots, you dearly wanted to curse the man for taking advantage of your infatuation. Of course, in his mind, he thought you were just a dedicated friend, and while that may be true, it would be more honest to say you were at his beck and call because you were in love with him.

Consequently, you find yourself hunched over a small desk in a small law firm with poor heating, hoping the feeling in your fingers returns.

And that was before the lights went out.

Precarious flames flicker among documents scattered across whatever surface area could be spared. Careful of the two candles flanking your papers - one cinnamon spice and another the supposed ‘scent of rain’ - you hunch lower and squint, trying to make connections between the paragraphs of legal precedents and other such jargon in the wavering light.

You don’t know how much longer you can strain your neck, scrounging every line of text for a loophole or mistype that will get this case thrown out. The ache in your neck grows insistent until you are forced to lift your head and roll your shoulders to appease the pain for a moment. Your eyes, sore from reading in dim light, fall on the lawyer across from you, taking in the welcome sight of him compared to dull printed texts.

Albeit, Foggy sits across from you in a similar position, muttering from down-turned lips as frustration pinches his expression. Occasionally, he heaves a sigh or grunt through clenched teeth as he hits another dead end. Even still, you allow yourself a small smile at how the orange flames cast warmth on his blond locks, causing them to shimmer like spun gold between the shadows.

A prick of alertness wakes you from your dreamy gaze and casting your eyes around you for the sixth sense of being watched, you find the other partner of the firm, Matt Murdock, smiling in your direction as if he could see you.

Your smile falls immediately, though the endeavor is fruitless as your remaining blush gives you away. Despite not having vision, you knew Matt caught you making heart eyes again at your ‘strictly professional legal friend’. It wasn’t the first time Matt sent you an impish smirk or raised his brows in question at your obvious pining. Especially when you laughed too loudly at Foggy’s quips. But what about it? You liked a sense of humor in a man and Foggy Nelson was a comedian in your enamored eyes.

The maddening thing was Matt doesn’t even pause his reading, skirting over lines of Braille with the same urgency as Foggy muttering out paragraphs of legalities.

You roll your eyes and Matt’s grin widens, but you choose to ignore him, checking your wrist watch for the time.

Your glance never makes it to your wrist, but diverges instead to the window when a sudden bang knocks the glass within it’s frame. The forceful wind rattles the glass with vengeance until it settles into an ominous vibrato. It wasn’t the first time that hour, but the three of you jump in your seats all the same.

“For Pete’s sake, this case better be able to fix that goddamn window.” Foggy curses, rubbing a palm over his heart from the abrupt break in silence.

“We have to win the case in the first place.” You lament, heaving a sigh to regain a normal heart rate.   

“We have less than an hour to find a reasonable cause to dismiss this case. But I’m pretty sure I’m reading algebra right now for all the good these candles are doing.”    Foggy groans, tussling his hair into a visible display of his perturbation. Your eyes follow the motion, happy to see something other than poorly lit paper stimulate your vision, though you sympathize with his annoyance.

“Justice never sleeps.” You quip and Foggy matches your wry smile.

“Of course the courthouse is open.” Foggy continues, flipping over another page. “Hell has frozen over but did the courthouse care? Did they reschedule? Of course not! Why indulge the safety of their tax-paying citizens when they could freeze them to death instead?”

“Whoa there, Foggy, is that the hangover talking or just you?” Matt teases, his fingers hesitating over some lines as conversation picks up.

“If anyone is hungover it’s you and your stupid smile that somehow thinks it’s appropriate to make an appearance right now.”

“I’m not the one who suggested shots last night.”

“I’m not the one who drank them all.”

“Hey, I’ve been quiet and well-behaved this entire time.”

“Guys…twenty minutes…” You interrupt, your own sense of justice dwindling by the hour.

You were more than accustomed to the bickering between the two law firm partners. Despite not being a lawyer yourself, your paralegal abilities were usually called into action since being acquainted with Nelson and Murdock over a previous case. You didn’t even work for them, yet you found yourself here more often than your own office. You also found yourself playing referee alongside legal assistance. At this point, you had helped Foggy and Matt win so many cases and stay friends while doing so, that you were an honorary member of the firm.

Foggy flips a page before him, chin resting on his fist. “I say we call the courthouse and tell them we were trapped inside. Couldn’t open the front door cause of all the…”

He squints.

His eyes go wide.

“Fuck! I found the damned thing!”

A groan of relief resounds from Matt and he throws himself back into his swivel chair, spinning to the side slightly. You break into a smile, watching the candlelight twinkle in Foggy’s eyes with his newfound ecstasy.

“Will it help win the case?” You ask, voice soft if only because of your overwhelming affection.

“This piece of evidence - or should I say lack thereof, will get this case thrown out into the nearest dumpster!” Foggy exclaims, meeting your eyes with his own mirth. Your smile grows larger at this revelation.

Matt tilts his head and once more you feel that devil grin, but you refuse to meet his invisible gaze. However, your up-tick in heart rate betrays your fear of a much bigger revelation being exposed by the brunet lawyer.

Matt seems to spare you from your fears, speaking instead of the case at hand.

“Foggy, I don’t know what we’d do without you. I don’t know how I missed such an obvious detail right in front of me.”

As he stands up, Matt compiles his own version of documents into his briefcase.

“What an oversight on my part.”

He grins expectantly.

You throw your head back and groan, then lift your head in order to glare at Matt.

“That’s the last one, Murdock! You’ve hit your ‘blind’ joke quota for today.”

Matt pouts, jerking on his winter pea coat.

“It’s my law firm, I can make as many jokes as I want. Who am I offending?”

“It’s our law firm, buddy.” Foggy comes to your defense. “And your jokes are in poor taste only because they’re not funny.”

“Hey,” Matt lifts the strap over his shoulder and slides out from behind his desk. “I’m funny.”

“Funny-looking.” You tease. Foggy snorts and points the tip of his pen at you in approval. You bite your lip to keep your grin from spreading into ‘infatuated’ lengths.

“Now, I can’t help that,” Matt gestures to the glasses in his hand before slipping them onto his nose, “given, you know, that I’m-“

“No more!” You point your finger at Matt in warning.

“Alright, jeez. Tough crowd.” Matt grins, still clearly proud of his sense of corny humor.

Before he makes his way to the door, he turns partway to explain his departure.

“I’ll head out first to meet the client early. It’s gonna be hell catching a cab in this storm. Plus the traffic will be worse…you get it.” Matt sighs and snatches his cane from where it rests beside the entryway. He lifts it as a form of dismissal.

“Good idea. I’ll revise our argument first then head over. It shouldn’t take more than a few quick amendments.” Foggy says.

Matt nods and turns to leave.

You turn back to clean up your work, but your head snaps up when you hear Matt fall against the door.

“Are you okay?” You blurt as Matt pushes himself upright on the door.

“I misjudged the space between myself and the door.” He chuckles. “Can’t see anything with the lights out.”

“Leave.”

You turn your back on Matt and his snickering.

“I don’t know how you put up with him.” You say once he’s gone and Foggy rolls his eyes in similar exasperation.

“I’ve learned to stop questioning my life choices when it comes to Matt.”

You laugh, humming in agreement. You lift your gaze to hand Foggy the collected papers across the desk and find his eyes already on you.

Before you can contemplate why his eyes take their time traveling down your face to your outstretched hand, the his easy smile lowers into contemplation once he accepts the papers. He licks his lips and begins scribbling down notes with fervor. Now that the essential information has been found, you’re left with nothing else to do but leave it in the capable hands of the brilliant lawyer before you.

Before you realize it, you’re in a candlelight-induced trance, watching Foggy’s eagle sharp gaze flit back and forth. A small, petty part of you wishes his eyes held the same concentration on you instead of the paperwork. You knew from experience how nice it was to have Foggy’s attention on you.

Meeting Foggy Nelson was like the sun breaking through the clouds after a rainstorm. He had come into your life with undeniable presence and charm, which mostly stemmed from how Foggy was unapologetically himself in all contexts. He didn’t put on the airs of the egotistical disposition that many lawyers were known to have.

That’s not to say he didn’t speak up whenever he found himself in an immoral situation,  but more often than not, Foggy reserved his speeches for retelling the repertoire of stories he loved to share with those who spared him an ear. You, always a listener at heart, and therefore his dedicated audience, were usually in hysterics by the end of his theatrics.

Foggy never just told a story. No, he incorporated gestures, voices and facial expressions that brought the characters - real or not - to life. Karen and Matt had heard every story ten times over, but being the newest addition to the friend group, you took in every detail as if there was going to be an exam.

It was his larger-than-life personality that drew you in, but it was his quiet observations that captivated you. Foggy never used his social prowess to embarrass others - Karen and Matt excluded - only ever making himself the butt of jokes. If he teased you, it was only to tease you out of your shell. His questions were genuine and his gaze, reading your body language and expressions, hung on to every answer you offered him.

The first real conversation you had with him, he asked you about your background.

“So what gods - sorry, Matt, God - above orchestrated for you to be doomed with us as friends?” He asked, curiosity making his sincerity clear.

You told him your abridged life story - including the small role you felt you played, despite it being your own life. Foggy’s smile had waned into a wrinkled line and when you finished he looked at you as if you had just admitted to being from another planet.

“You are the sweetest person I know, with a beautiful heart, and I don’t think you know it. But the rest of us sure do.” His eyes sought yours long enough to ensure you believed his sincerity, then he quickly moved on to throw a jibe at Matt,, and the conversation returned it’s levity. You, however, were left reeling from his compliment.

And absolutely in love.

Doomed, more like. You muse, halting the trip down memory lane before you fell down the well-trodden path of self-doubt and hatred. You have been around long enough to hear stories of the women Foggy had dated, slept with, or fantasized about being with. You didn’t think you made the cut. You had no reason to. Foggy was an extraordinary friend but that didn’t qualify you to wish he did more than friendly things to you.

You focus back in where your eyes had taken the opportunity to stare at Foggy fingering the edges of documents while twirling a pen in his other hand. He settles the pen between his soft, pink lips, tapping it before he bites the cap, completed focused on the phrasing of his task.

A hair falls between his eyes, causing him to wrinkle his nose into an unbearably cute expression.

You send the chair stumbling backwards when you stand, and that focused gaze flies to you.

“I…um..I am…What time is it? I think we should start to head over.” You attempt to clarify.

Foggy removes the writing utensil from his teeth as his eyes analyze your abrupt movement. You feel exposed the longer he stares and start to grow nervous he somehow could hear your wayward thoughts about the dexterity of his fingers.

“Yeah…good call.” Foggy clears his throat. He stands up to gather his things and you step forward to help him.

Handing him a file, his fingers brush the back of your knuckles and your eyes flutter in response.

Cheeks warm despite the cold, you turn from Foggy and set about blowing out all the candles until you’re both left in the dark.

You walk to the door and rest your hand on the doorknob. Turning your wrist, you pull the doorknob out the socket.

Wait.

What?

You glance down at your hand.

“What the hell?” A sense of dread fills you.

“What’s wrong?” Foggy asks, immediately reacting to your alarmed tone.

When you don’t respond, he navigates his way around the desk and chairs in the dark to come to your aid.

You turn back to the door and stare at the vacant hole with consternation until you feel Foggy’s chest brush your left shoulder.

“What happened?”

The weight of the doorknob feels condemning in your palm. Foggy leans down, squinting through the dark. His cheek is inches from yours, his height enshrouding you as he peers at your hands, and any other time your heart would be beating out of your chest.

Well, it was, but for the wrong reason.

“Oh.” He says. “Shit.”

“I have no idea!” You insist before he can even turn his grave expression on you and ask. “I guess the other side of it came loose and just fell off.”

“Well. That’s just fantastic.” Foggy hooks his index in the hole and tugs hard. The door jiggles with his attempts but holds fast.

“So we’re locked in our own office?” you conclude.

Foggy growls in frustration. He stalks back over to the desk, muttering curses to himself.

“Perfect. Just perfect. Of course…worst day of my life…”

Foggy pats his waist down, pulls out his phone, and then hits the first speed dial button.

“Hey, Matt.” He says sharply. “…Yeah, the fucking handle fell off the door.”   

Morose, you glance down at the knob still in your palm.

“No, I don’t- Y/N turned the knob and it just fell off!….Yeah, I already did that.”

Foggy sighs, hums in affirmation before his shoulders drop.

“You sure? Yeah…ugh…fine yeah, okay.”

Matt must have asked for the new evidence Foggy was supposed to bring, you assume, as Foggy proceeds to explain the needed information and confirm Matt understood it all.

“Good luck, buddy. Don’t lose.”

Foggy hangs up, ceasing his pacing. His hand runs through his now tangled locks then drops to his waist. He looks at you with resignation.

“Matt says he can handle the case by himself. It’s not a full blown hearing so…he’ll come back as soon as he can. The case has already started so he doesn’t have time to run back here.”

“Oh.” The prickling sensation of tears burns behind your eyes. The last thing you want is to ever be the cause of Foggy’s stress. Hell, you spend most of your time trying to be as valuable to him as possible.

Foggy searches around him until he finds matches. He lights the nearest candle and then sits down behind his desk.

He frowns once he sees you haven’t moved from your tense stance near the entrance.

“Hey.”

Your eyes flit to his face and find Foggy smiling at you with his recognizable optimism. The kind of smile that feels like he’s sharing a secret joke with you. He drags your previous chair around the desk, beside his.

“C’mere and sit back down. We have at least three hours before Matt returns.”

You hum in assent, still clutching the doorknob as you make your way over.

Coming around the desk, Foggy’s hand darts out, shielding your hip from the sharp corner when you almost don’t clear it.

You jump at his fingers against your waist. Foggy jerks back just as quickly, his grimace apparent.

“Sorry! I didn’t want you to run into it. That corner in particular bruises like a bitch.”

You laugh, hoping the airy chuckle doesn’t betray how his fingertips ignited a reaction far from displeased within you.

“I appreciate it. And I assume you’re speaking from experience?” You sit down. Your knee brushes his, tingling with proximity. You’ve never had a reason to sit so close to Foggy before, even in the booths at bars, and without the light, you sense more than see his presence within your personal space.

Foggy snorts. “Yeah, of course. Matt does it all the time.”

“Oh, so you have practice holding his waist too?” You don’t know where this brazen energy arises from, but you blame it on the intimacy of being secluded in the office with Foggy and your only light source being a small flame that smells of cinnamon.

Foggy’s lips split before curving into a smirk. He narrows his eyes.

“Are you accusing me of making a grab at you?”

You shake your head frantically.    “No! Sorry, that was stupid. I-“

Foggy laughs, waving your apology away.

“I would hope you think more highly of me to at least buy you dinner first.” He reasons, pursing his mouth into an easy smile.

You bite your lip, eyes widening at the suggestion. Was he serious? Or were you letting your feelings cloud an obvious joke?

“Of course I think highly of you, Foggy.” You say, settling into the chair. You set the doorknob on the desk. Your brow furrows as it reminds you of how Foggy was trapped here with you instead of at the courthouse winning the case he’s worked so hard on.

“Y/n?”

“Hm?”

“Seriously, don’t feel bad about the door. This whole shitty place is falling apart.” Foggy gestures vaguely around him. Foggy must have mistaken your silence as guilt. He’s correct in assuming so, but why did he have to read you so damn well?

“No, I know…I just feel bad for you because you deserve to be in that courtroom.”

“Ah, don’t sweat it. Matt’s got it handled. I’m sure they prefer the handsome lawyer down there anyways. Case will go in our favor that way.” He chuckles.

“Handsome?” You frown, not getting the punchline.

His eyes flicker over your face as if to gage how serious you are being.

Foggy shrugs. “Out of the two of us, Matt’s the better lawyer, both in the legal department and looks department.” His half-hearted laugh fails to win you over.

“That isn’t- that’s not true.” You stumble over your words, because it would be foolish to deny the attention the brunet lawyer garners on a consistent basis. However, you weren’t about to accept Matt’s good looks at the cost of denying Foggy’s attractive features either.

Foggy snorts. He shakes his head, hair brushing his shoulders as he does so and you’re overcome with an intense need to make him realize just how important he is to everyone. To you.

“Foggy, you’re incredible to watch in action.”

Foggy’s frown is near comical with his exaggerated pout. You lean in, determined to convince him.

“Foggy, you’re a hell of a good lawyer, too. If Matt is so talented then he wouldn’t partner with someone who wasn’t on his level. The two of you have your own firm. Matt’s not your boss. He’s your equal. That goes for the ‘looks’ department as well. You’re an attractive, generous, compassionate lawyer and it’s a privilege to work with you.”

Foggy’s expression is unreadable as he listens to you rant. His eyes search your face, flitting back and forth with thoughts known only to him. His brow falters slightly and you fear he’s uncomfortable with your impromptu speech.

But eventually, that full mouth of his turns upwards.

Unfortunately, the smile he wears accompanies a glimmer in his eye that makes you lean back into your own chair.

Foggy follows you, invading your breathing space with the heady scent of his aftershave and a hint of shampoo akin to vanilla.   

“What other traits do I possess?”

All at once you realize how revealing your compliments are. Blooming crimson, you attempt a verbal retreat that Foggy has no intention of allowing.

“Oh, um…I didn’t-I just mean…”

“C’mon, tell me! Attorney client privilege.” Foggy winks, his grin upheld and only growing bolder as he rests his cheek on his fist, full attention on you now.

Well, you did wish for that.

“Technically, to be your client I would need to pay you first.” You throw out, if only to prolong the inevitable corner of confession he was backing you into.

“Aha! So you do learn a thing or two around this office. I’ll only charge you five bucks.” Foggy retorts easily enough.

“I don’t have money on me, but since you’ve been known to accept fruit baskets, would you accept other forms of payment?”

“What do you have in mind?” Foggy’s grin is downright devious.

Your eyes widen as you effectively have backed yourself into the corner you were trying to avoid.

A nervous laugh bubbles from your racing heart as you shake your head, waving your hand too for good measure.

“Nothing! I’m kidding, Foggy.”

“Blood money? Was it blood money?”

“No?…No, it was a stupid joke.”

“Tell me.” Foggy sits up, his demeanor becoming serious.

“Please?” He whispers.

You chew on your lower lip, trying to swallow down the thundering of your heart as silence permeates the dimly lit atmosphere between you two.

Maybe it’s the influence of the warm fire painting Foggy’s gaze in such a soft, accepting light, as if he already knows what you’re thinking - or is even feeling it too. Maybe it’s the months of holding back the truth from someone you would tell anything to in a heartbeat. Maybe it’s the hope that ultimately outweighs the anxiety that causes you to admit it.

No longer do the candles, blizzard, or darkness feel like a hindrance. Now they feel intimate, cozy, and warm.

Romantic.

“I was gonna say…something super corny like, “just my undying affection.” You feel like an idiot, grimacing with the confession.

Your eyes dare to check Foggy’s expression, knowing he’s probably gonna reel back in aversion.

Instead, Foggy scoffs, shaking his head slightly. “You’re affection? Jeez, now that’s nowhere near corny.” He purses his lips and his hair brushes his cheek as he shakes his head.

“Earning your attention, let alone your affection - damn, I would win a hundred cases for you, guaranteed!”

You want to blame the playful words as an excuse to ignore the sincerity in his tone, but your body reacts before you can, heart leaping with a thrill of joy and your lips begging for more.

“Guaranteed?”

“Nothing drives a man like his unwavering passion for the woman he adores.”

You must look crazed, in the throes of shock as your brain tries to process the meaning behind his words. Foggy adores you? Really?

Your mouth continues to take the lead.

“You mean that?”

Foggy lifts his hand in the distance between you, which is scarce, and hesitates a second before placing his warm hand atop both your hands picking at each other’s fingertips. The weight of his palm and the comfort of his grip squeezes your fretting hands still. You release a soft exhale.

“Y/n, I’ve never been more serious.    I’ve adored every detail of yours since you graced my office.”

You don’t know what to say, so you nod.

You keep nodding until it dawns that your feelings are reciprocated, perhaps more than you dared hope for.

And then you’re smiling, beaming, and still nodding, as Foggy brings the hand up from your grasp and cups your cheek, smoothing his thumb over in a silent hello before he presses his lips to your mouth.

You press in, feeling him wholly as mint overwhelms your senses. Your lips move with his, chin lifting as you chase his mouth and he meets you once more, applying pressure before he withdraws, and releases your bottom lip from his teeth.

You can’t see much in the dark anyways, but right now you can’t see a thing. Only spots that accompany the ringing in your ears. You might be light-headed too.

Your dazed silence breaks when Foggy’s whisper begins to escalate.

“Before I have a heart attack…tell me I didn’t screw this up. If I read it wrong and you were just joking-“

“No, no! It’s just…I can’t believe you like me back.” Your laugh is a soft exhale before a sharp intake of breath.

“This isn’t some ‘lights go out and we’re vulnerable in the dark confession.” Foggy says as he cups your face once more.

“I mean every word I say in the dark.” He kisses you again and you welcome his eager affection before he pulls back. You open your eyes just in time for the lights flicker on with a stumbling hum as the building regains power.

“And the light.” Foggy tacks on to his previous statement.

You snort, biting your lip in vain to stop your giddy smile.

“That was pretty fucking cool timing if you ask me.” He says, the same elated grin on his flushed visage.

“That was, I’ll admit.” You laugh. You run your tongue across your lips, savoring the taste of his kiss.

“I wish someone could have witnessed it.” Foggy continues to rave, basking in your growing smile of amusement.

“I did.”

Matt stands in the doorway with a wicked grin.

“Missing something?” He asks. Your eyes flit down to his hand.

The other side of the doorknob.

Matt waltzes over to the desk, grabs the doorknob, then returns to the entry and slides it back into place.

Your frown deepens when he unpockets a screw. Within ten seconds the door is fixed with a good rattle to test it out.

“Lucky thing the case got canceled. You guys would have been stuck in this room all night.” Matt says, passing you both on his way to his office. Presumably to start the next caseload.

Foggy breaks first, swiveling in his chair to jab a finger at Matt’s retreating back.

“You bastard!”

Matt spins around once he’s behind the door of his office. He gives ample time to leave his smirk on display as he closes the door in a slow, dramatic fashion until it clicks with finality.

And with it, a realization of his strange behavior today.

You gasp.

Matt never left the building.

#foggy nelson #foggy nelson fluff #foggy nelson x reader #foggy nelson x you #foggy nelson x y/n #foggy nelson daredevil #foggy nelson fic #foggy nelson one shot #arden's prose

[blindmagdalena]

Hello! It is I again! The fabled anon #286451 ! It hath not been long but today at work I was struck with a headcanon/idea I thought would fit perfectly to how you write the stinky rat stink man!

I personally hate the repetitive summer love songs that repeat every hour on the radio (Since I have to listen to them a lot sadly!) and I like to imagine Homelander absolutely despises them as well. (Especially since it's the same shit every year-)

Until reader (vought employee who he mayheps has a crush on maybe idk???) Comes along and now he thinks about her whenever he hears one of those shitty love songs-

And suddenly they aren't quite so shitty anymore...

As mysteriously as I have appeared, I shall disappear once more! I hope my silly little summertimetune idea doth not bother! I wish thee a great week, great writer of the terrible, blonde menace!

Bestestest regards,

Anon #286451

hello dearest!! i'm so sorry to be responding so late! not a bother in the least. i love love love this headcanon!

i'm always a sucker for readers who sing, so i like to imagine it was them singing these goofy songs under their breath while they work that turned him around on them.

they do it too softly for anyone but him to hear, which makes it feel like something secret and special between them, even if he's the only one out of the two of them that's aware of it!

so now when he hears those songs, he thinks of them. their smile, the slight sway of their body to the music. he's been watching them, listening to them for weeks, falling in love with all these little isms before the two have even had a proper conversation. and ofc he doesn't really realize it until they're in an elevator together one day and they start humming along to even the elevator music.

his heart jumps and oh, he's got it bad.

#sorry i can't help but turn everything into lowkey stalker!lander #anon 286451 #thank you sm for this!!! #homelander x reader #homelander x you #darling anon #ask and you shall receive #homelander headcanons

[afieldinengland]

looking in the mirror at twenty and asking no deeper wrinkles yet? hath sorrow struck so many blows upon this face of mine, and made no deeper wounds? flattering glass. like to my followers in prosperity, thou dost beguile me. was this face the face that every day under his household roof did keep ten thousand men? was this face the face that, like the sun, did make beholders wink? is this face the face that faced so many follies, that was at last outfaced by bolingbroke? a brittle glory shineth in this face. as brittle as the glory is the face; for there it is, cracked in an hundred shivers. mark, silent king, the moral of this sport. how soon my sorrow hath destroyed my face. (the shadow of your sorrow hath destroyed the shadow of your face.) say that again. ‘the shadow of my sorrow’? ha, let’s see. ‘tis very true, my grief lies all within

#whatever #richard ii

[futureslaps]

The Captive - Chapter 10

Chapter 9. Chapter 11

Chapter #10! I never thought I would write so much! I’m by no means a big writer, but inspiration hath struck!

Enjoy 💙

Spider moved quickly through the village, making sure Jake would lose track if he followed him. He had truly tried his best to make it through the entire conversation, but once Jake had started asking about his time with Quaritch, he couldn’t stay anymore. The mix of fear and guilt had been too much.

He felt the Na’vi around him staring as he ran across Awa’atlu’s network of bridges. Normally, he’d try to keep a lower profile among the Metkayina, but he didn’t care at the moment. He just had to get away from that conversation.

Once he was sure Jake wasn’t behind him, he began to slow his pace. He didn’t stop to catch his breath until he was out of the village, away from everyone. He finally came to a stop on a small beach, and sat on the sand with a sigh, holding his head in his hands as tears started to form.

Yet another shameful low.

He was ready to cry, but he stopped himself when he heard footsteps approaching. His heart started to race. Had Jake really followed him all this way?

But as they drew closer, he realized they were lighter than Jakes, and more fluid. It was Kiri.

“Spider, I’ve been looking for you all day! I have something for you.”

Spider forced a smile on his face and turned around.

“I thought you might want some blankets so I…” concern suddenly replaced Kiri’s smile. With a jolt, Spider realized he still had tears in his eyes.

“Spider? Are you okay?” Her voice was filled with worry.

“I’m fine.” Spider hastily replied.

He got up and prepared to leave, but Kiri took one of his hands in hers.

“Spider, don’t go.”

Spider closed his eyes. He was struggling to even keep Kiri’s hand in his. It felt wrong after everything that happened.

“I’m sorry Spider. Please stay, just for a little.” Kiri’s own voice sounded like she was on the verge of tears.

He sighed. He couldn’t bear to run away from her again. He forced himself to sit back down on the sand. Kiri sat next to him, still holding his hand. For a while, neither of them said anything. They watched the sunset in front of them, both letting out the occasional sniffle. It was almost like old times. But, despite their hand holding, Spider still felt like the true distance between them was as wide as the ocean.

Finally, Kiri broke the silence.

“I’m sorry for yesterday, Spider. I’m sorry I upset you. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

The words filled Spider with guilt. He knew Kiri was just trying to help him.

“I know everything must be hard for you Spider.” Kiri put a strong emphasis on “everything”, making Spider’s chest feel slighter tighter. She didn’t know about Quaritch, but it still made him nervous.

“You know…about…” Kiri started to elaborate but stopped herself.

“I…I shouldn’t…I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Kiri quickly said, her face scanning Spider’s for signs she’d upset him.

Spider’s heart sank further. He felt horrible, seeing her clearly walking on eggshells, trying not to hurt him.

She shouldn’t do this. She doesn’t know the truth. You don’t deserve this.

Spider tried to change the topic of conversation.

“What’s going on with the blankets?” He asked, gesturing to the blankets now in Kiri’s lap.

“I…just wanted to bring you a few. I thought you might want some since, you know..” Kiri explained, a bit of her usual peppiness back in her voice.

“Thank you, Kiri.” Spider replied, forcing a smile. He felt bad accepting them, but at least he’d be more comfortable tonight.

I could bring one to Quaritch…

Spider almost punched himself for the thought. But he kept smiling as he picked up the blankets. They both began standing up.

“I tried to bring them to you last night, but you weren’t there.” Kiri said nonchalantly. “Sorry I couldn’t bring…them…”

She stopped when she saw Spider freeze. His suddenly pale face bore a look of horror. 

“Spider? What’s wrong? It…it wasn’t a big deal…” She began, trying desperately to think of what she’d said wrong. The words snapped Spider back to reality.

“Thanks for the blankets, Kiri. I’ll go set them up right now.” He replied. His face returned to a smile, but he was still pale, and his words were still rushed.

“Okay…Spider.” Kiri replied, still disoriented by the sudden swing in Spider’s demeanor. Spider nodded and turned to leave.

“Tell me if you want more, okay?” She called after him. If he heard the words, he didn’t show it.

(..)

Kiri thought about her conversation with Spider as she returned to her Marui. It had gone better than the one before, at least. It was still clear that Spider wasn’t okay. He’d been in tears when she found him. She wanted to ask him more about what was wrong, but after he’d practically broken-down last time, she didn’t want to risk hurting him again.

His last reaction still puzzled her. Kiri had barely even given thought to his absence, assuming that he was probably off doing his business, or sleeping on another root. But Spider had been mortified when she told him she’d tried to find him last night.

In fact, Kiri had never seen Spider look so scared in her life. The only other time that she could compare was…

the ship.

Kiri cringed when she realized she must have somehow brought up a memory of that night. She still had nightmares about it herself. The flames. The demon growling at them, his gaze full of hatred. Spider under her mom’s knife, her eyes maddened with grief and hatred of her own.

Kiri shuddered. She couldn’t imagine how much it was haunting Spider.

That entire day felt like a nightmare. Her own parents seemed happy pretending it never happened, but the long scar across Spider’s chest was an ever-present reminder of how real it had been. She balled her fists as she drew close to the Marui.

It wasn’t fair.

Was she the only one that could see how much Spider was hurt? How wrong what they did to him was? Was everyone around her going to keep pretending that everything is fine? She didn’t know how to talk with Spider about it, and everyone else seemed happier ignoring him. She had been asking her dad for days to talk with Spider.

Did he even remember?

As she finally entered the Marui, her eyes went to her father.

“Hey, Kiri.” He gave her a smile.

“Did you talk with Spider, dad?”

“Actually, I did.” Replied Jake.

Kiri thought for a moment. The answer took her off guard. When had they talked? But then, she remembered the tears on Spider’s face…

“And how did it go?” She asked, her voice already holding an edge of anger.

Jake looked down for a moment, like he was deep in thought.

“It went…okay. I think he’s doing alright.” Jake answered. He smiled, but his voice was unconvincing.

Kiri rolled her eyes.

“I think he’s doing alright.” Kiri filled her voice with as much sarcasm as she could. “Really?”

Jake didn’t miss the implication. His face lost it’s smile.

“I’m sorry, Kiri, I know things aren’t easy. Spider just needs some more time.”

Unbelievable

Kiri growled in exasperation before walking to her corner of the Marui.

“Kiri, come on. We’re all struggling. Don’t be like this.” Jake called after her.

Kiri ignored him, crossing her arms as she lay down.

“We’re still a family, Kiri.” Jake said. His voice was meant to sound authoritative, but it came off more as pleading.  

“Spider was family.” Kiri replied, before making a point of turning to face away from her father.

Thanks for reading! 💙

Apologies if this didn't have as much Quartich and Spider as usual. This fic is Spider-focused, but I didn’t want to keep the Sully family in the background. They are a big part part of the story and Spider's life after all. Besides, Jake and Kiri aren't doing so well either, and in my view, the more angst the better 😈.

Also, Kiri has an important role to play in this story. Expect some good angst and fluff with her! That’s all I’m saying for now 🤐

Taglist: @buzzing-honeybee @yesthisismycurrenthyperfixation

#Kiri is an emotional teen but she's trying ok #Jake doesn't know what he's doing #avatar #avatar 2 #atwow #avatar spider #avatar jake #avatar quaritch #avatar kiri #spider socorro #miles quaritch #recom quaritch #jake sully

[neutron-stars-collision]

Waiting for the Night

Bruce Wayne x F!Reader

Chapter 7 - Unravel

Masterlist; Chapter 6 Summary: Thursday, October 31st... It's Halloween night in Gotham, and what happens tonight changes the course of everything. Warnings: Swearing; slight dose of angst (thanks, R 😒) Author's Notes: Here we are, the movie hath officially began. That means these two are going to have one hell of a week. It also means things are about to get intense. In every sense 😌 I need to thank the bts team for taking that photo and showing it to the world. It's been quite the inspiration. Finally, thank you to everyone reading, sharing and commenting on this story. Your responses keep me going and make me believe it's worth it. Hope you'll enjoy and tell me what you think? Taglist: @thecraziestcrayon, @kookiewastolen, @imimsy, @tuskens-mando, @sugarcoated-lame, @blue-aconite, @hypnoash, @rabbitdictionary, @lauftivy, @nicklet94

You never liked Halloween. Even as a child, the holiday struck you as strange and forced. Then its close correlation with your father’s death only made the dislike stronger. You always turned down the party invitations and ignored the festivities, occasionally choosing to roam the city streets, unusually crowded for October. Sometimes that was the only answer, saving you from the disappointment awaiting in your thoughts and loneliness hiding in the shadows in the corners of your apartment. Outside, with the cold breeze and the rain hitting your face, you were not alone. And there was no time to think as you wandered the streets, observing the people gathering for the party in the central square. The variety of costumes did catch your eye, typically resulting in an eye roll or a smirk if particularly clever. And it did not seem like the rain was an issue to them either, crowding the city the closer you were to the Gotham Square.

Sometimes, especially when locking eyes with a lovey-dovey couple, it was difficult to escape the loneliness. To ignore the fact that there was a reason you wanted to hide from your thoughts. To deny the feelings that were always there, just brewing under the surface. Because no matter the 24 hours passed, your heart still ached as the tired brain went over the same few sentences, again and again. Stuck and helpless. Unable to accept the fact that perhaps it really was over. That Bruce did not want anything that had to do with you now that the case was closed. And no kiss or sweet smile could change it. But why was it so hard to let it go?

Looking up ahead, you could see the crowd beginning to block the street. Just a few metres more, and you would have to squeeze past the partiers if wanting to move deeper into the core of Gotham. Yet you kept on walking, too desperate to find an answer within the puddles on the road or the ache between your ribs. It never used to be like that. Sure, idiot boys and stupid girls had broken your heart before. Sure, sometimes it was a little hard to get over, needing months to heal and find hope again. But how could your heart be broken when it was never involved in the first place?

Your brain only caught up with the fact that you had walked into the crowd when you felt someone’s elbow jab your shoulder. Looking around, you saw only a moving sea of people, the tide dragging you with them deeper into the cyclone’s eye. The fleeing instinct kicked in just the right moment as you pushed through the mass until you could run to safety, randomly choosing the first dark alley to hide. As your back hit the wall, you hid your head in your hands, breathing heavily. The question was still the only thing you could focus on. Its incessant nature buzzed underneath your skull like a pesky fly. But you could not swat a thought. You could only face it. The heartache had a reason. The reason was called Bruce Wayne, and you did like him. And there was no way of assuring it would not develop further. Fuck.

Panic rose as you internally weighed options. To return home and get drunk in hopes you could forget you ever realized the truth in the first place. Or to keep on walking, praying that the weariness and the rain could wash away the fragility and weaknesses. Sudden noise coming from the other end of the passage made you jump up in fear. It was difficult to see anything within the shadows, but you tried anyway as you steeled your posture for whatever danger could await. With fists tightened in the pockets of your coat, you tried to deepen your breath with all your senses heightened. Another noise, like the sound of heavy footsteps heading your way. From the dense darkness, you could almost see a figure appear, walking in your direction with measured, slow steps. Two options: bolt it or be the hyena you always wanted to be. Curious, brave, and ambitious. Now or never.

Before you could bite the bullet, the mysterious stranger spoke in a deep, masculine tone:

“What are you doing here?” before the question was finished, he crossed the remains of space, making the breath hitch in your throat.

You had often wondered what it would be like to meet him. What does it feel like when a masked vigilante dressed as a bat stands in your path. Yet you never expected it to be exactly like this. Your eyes wandered over his form, the black armour highlighting muscles and strength. The cowl revealing half of his face with a sharp jawline. And the eyes, intense in their stare. There was no question why he had terrorized half of Gotham within the last two years. Feeling the heart still pounding in your chest, you took a half a step back for good measure and addressed him with a frown:

“You’ve scared me” there was no point in lying, was there? “Vengeance, is it?” a final measuring look up and down his body.

Only because you could hardly deny yourself the pleasure. He was tall, towering over you without effort. The array of gadgets and weapons you could easily see attached to the suit told you he knew what he was doing. Yet you were not a criminal, and he was still here, observing you with a sharp gaze. As if reading your mind, the man spoke:

“It’s dangerous for you to wander alone. Especially in dark alleys” he returned your taxing gaze and glanced at the darkness of the surroundings.

He did have a point. But the anger towards Bruce won over reason as you felt the familiar flare of irritation light up your heart. Who was he to tell you what to do?

“Why? Are you sexist, Mr Vengeance?” the sickly-sweet tone accented the ire as you added, “The last time a guy told me not to roam the streets at night, it turned out he was a bit of an asshole” your heart ached at the memory, as you let the annoyance take control to ask, “Why is it your business anyway?”

From the way he averted from your piercing gaze, you knew he understood that you did not appreciate the protectiveness. Not from strangers, anyway. Not tonight.

“I protect the city,” the vigilante offered his argument with a delay, supporting your suspicions and rousing a sardonic smile to appear on your face.

“Yeah, and it’s going splendidly,” you scoffed, unwilling to hold back if it meant he would leave you alone.

The gods had listened. Just as you replied, the man looked up at the sky. His mouth parted as you followed the gaze. The signal had been lit. He was needed. Before he could speak up again, you interjected:

“It’s fine, I’m not that important,” a wave of the hand as if to tell him that he need not care about you, “Never was,” the bitter chuckle died in your throat.

The next time your eyes wandered to the man, he was gone. You let out a long breath and closed your eyes for a beat. It really happened. But you were alright. Well, kind of. Home did sound good, after all. You slowly traced your steps onto the main road, where the crowds had long moved on. It would be a long walk back to the apartment, but you did not mind. Your phone buzzed in the pocket of your coat, making you stop in the middle of a street and take it out. It was a text from a coworker, one that usually covered murders of high-profile citizens. You held your breath as you read the message:

“Mitchell has been murdered in his house. Come here ASAP, looks like it’s a big one,”

Oh. Maybe the universe offered distractions exactly when you needed them?

***

By the time you found your way to the mayor’s house in Crest Hill the crowd had already gathered. It was mostly reporters and journalists with a few curious passersby who did not mind the rain and the late hour. The white stone building was cordoned off by the GCPD, who checked the ID of anyone trying to cross the iron gate and trespass inside. Without an issue, you found the group of your coworkers and exchanged pleasantries, hoping to hear the familiar speculative buzz. That is how you always caught the scoop, listening to the people gossiping and whispering because, in every spoonful of nonsense, there had to be a grain of truth. You did not have to wait long…

“Mary says he was decapitated!” an excited whisper carried through the crowd.

You snorted at the ridiculous rumour, just as someone else opposed it in an affronted tone:

“What? No, that’s bullshit” the man lowered his voice to a confidential whisper, adding his theory to the mix, “I heard the killer used a poker to hit him in the head and then severed his hand,”

A disgusted frown placed itself on your lips as someone raised their voice in a palpable reaction:

“Ew. What is he, a fetishist?”

Laughter rang out around you, as more people joined the crowd waiting for the official statement to come through. Until then, terrible jokes and idiotic theories were all you had. Sadly.

“Maybe he wants to clone our dear mayor,” it was the decapitation enthusiast speaking again “Don’t you think that’s suspicious with the election so close?” even before the question fell, you knew what the reaction would be.

The statement was bold, after all. However, it was also the first thing that came to your mind, unable to ignore the Tuesday voting about to take place. You listened closely, tuning out all the other noises to catch more information. Anything could be true. And you needed something to offer Bruce if- Wait, no. That story was over. Or you wished it were.

“You think Réal sent someone to kill him?” someone suggested the answer, only to dismiss it after a beat, “As if that wouldn’t come out after the election,”

Bella Réal did not seem like the type to pay for an opponent’s assassination instead of hoping the polls swing to her advantage on Tuesday night. But then, looks did deceive. As impressions did.

“It would’ve solved her problem, though. Now she’s got the win in her pocket,” the sensationalist’s tone dripped with nonchalance.

You had to give them that. But a dirty political move in a city like Gotham did not seem quite believable. There was always more to the story.

“I heard Mitchell was never the family man he always wanted us to believe he was,” your ears perked up as someone voiced their theory, “Apparently, the guy had a whole string of lovers, all young girls” another shocked gasp ripped through the gathering.

That one made even more sense. You shuffled closer to the speaker just as someone else joined in:

“Yeah, I heard that too. He used his ties to silence the rumours, but nothing ever dies for good in this city” a deep breath as if he was about to drop a bombshell, “And then there’s this business with Falcone? You know, he-”

You never got to hear the story. The crowd erupted with more excitement and camera flashes before silencing completely as Commissioner Savage came outside the iron gates, followed by cops and what looked like the victim’s family. Your gaze swept over their shattered faces, taking in the heartbreak and grief shining through the cracks. As your eyes landed on the little boy holding the hand of the mayor’s wife, you felt a prick of pain pass through your chest.

“The son found him” another whisper reached your ears as you observed the child, unable to let go of the memories.

He must have been seven or eight. Too young to lose a father. Just like you. Your eyes squeezed shut to prevent shameless tears from trailing down your cheeks. Because how could you explain it? That the past got a little too real? Between one heartbeat and the next, you made up your mind. In the morning, you would go back to Bruce and offer your help on this case, should he want it. Your help, your attention, your heart- Well, he had those already. The reason? Because Bruce understood. That’s all.

Before you could spiral further into the dangerous thoughts, the Commissioner approached the makeshift platform and started speaking:

“Tonight, a son lost a father. A wife lost a husband. And I lost a friend,” the woman wailed, comforted by a member of staff, as Savage continued, “Mayor Mitchell was a fighter for the city, and I will not rest until his killer is found. This was a truly senseless crime, and we are actively pursuing every investigative lead we have in order to identify the perpetrator and hunt him down” the man highlighted every word with an authoritative look and a fist hitting the lectern “I’ve spoken to the governor, and he’s promised to send reinforcements to help us find who is responsible and make sure justice is delivered” a final hit of the fist on the stand, accentuating the meaning.

Only those corrupted to the bone spoke of justice that highly. But who were you to know? Around you, the crowd had started to disperse with a disappointed sigh and animated chatter. Tonight, rumours would be made, theories conceived, and in the morning, Gotham would wake up without a mayor and with yet another nightmare. Your eyes landed on the boy again. There was no sense of hope in your heart, but you had to try. For him. For yourself, too.

***

The moment you approached the Wayne Tower, armed with the set of keys in one hand and an umbrella in the other, you could already feel it coming. That mild yet incessant heart thrashing in between your ribs. That knot tightens in the pit of your stomach. Because it could go either incredibly well, or awfully bad. And you were not sure which outcome was which at that point. Letting out a heavy sigh, you climbed up the steps and reached for the handle, only for the door to open before you slipped in the key. With wide eyes, you watched as four men dressed in identical grey suits fell out into the steps, returning your surprised look with a glare of their own. What even? In bewilderment, you observed them as they walked down the steps and onto the pavement, each carrying a black leather briefcase. Before you could find the needed words, a familiar voice spoke from the doorway:

“You’ve just missed out on entertainment” looking up, you met Alfred’s warm smile as he beckoned you inside.

Returning the grateful smile, you quickly climbed the remaining steps and entered the foyer, pocketing the keys back in the coat.

“Let me guess… Lawyers?” arching an eyebrow, you threw a final glance at the closing door and grinned.

The butler chuckled, giving you a quick welcoming pat on the shoulder, before answering the riddle:

“Accountants”

“Damn it,” groaning with faux annoyance, you followed him into the elevator.

The sooner, the better, or something.

“From the Enterprises. Bruce never goes there, and there were papers to sign, so…” Alfred shrugged, offering you a background of the events as he closed the crate and pressed the button.

The flash of gratitude was inescapable. Because you could never ask, yet the curiosity was always there, eager to understand the daily life at the Wayne Tower. Or anything that had to do with the heir of the fortune.

“He was joyful, I bet” contrasting the image of Bruce against that of the men in suits, you chuckled lowly.

What you would have offered to have been able to see it.

“As were they” Alfred’s addition only made you laugh harder as the elevator stopped.

The nerves were nearly gone now. Only the heart was still fluttering anxiously, unable to process what you were about to do. Silencing the noise, you asked Alfred a final question:

“How are you tolerating this for so long?” you did not need to elaborate.

As soon as your eyes met his, Pennyworth smiled knowingly. He did not need long to find an answer.

“Love” within the depths of his grey eyes, you could see the feeling reflected without measure or uncertainty, “I brought you a guest, Bruce” you followed him into the study, feeling the well-known tension take hold.

As your eyes wandered over the space to locate the man, you urged your heart to calm down. And stop being pathetic, ideally. He was not seated at the table or in one of the armchairs. Instead, you found him on the wooden staircase, with the elbows resting on the bent knees and the hands tightened into fists, touching his mouth. Thinking hard, or, alternatively for Bruce Wayne, sulking. With the damp hair falling over his eyes and a permanent frown etched onto his face, you knew whatever was going on was important. And there was no turning back anyway.

You threw a final glance to check whether Alfred had already left you alone (he did) and cautiously approached the first step, feeling the watchful gaze pinned on your face. The moment you raised your head to meet his eyes, Bruce was waiting. The blue irises pulled you in as you reached out to find a steady grip on the railing and sent him a small smile.

“Hello, sunshine,” the voice got stuck in your throat, resulting in a whisper as you gathered the courage to say what was necessary “I know you don’t want me here, but… I got some information on Mitchell that could help you if you’re working on that case too” it all came out in a rush, unable to find a rhythm or conviction.

Because with each word hitting the breach between you, you faltered. It was one thing to ignore the reality and try your luck again. Another to be rejected twice.

With Bruce’s steady gaze still fixed on your face, and the silence echoing in the room, you felt the fear rise. Not the fear of losing, but the fear of never getting to know what it could be like. What you were missing out on.

“Why do you care?” when he finally spoke, you could hear the hostile edge in his voice.

As if Bruce was expecting to catch you off guard and find you not worthy. You did not need to be told twice to make the next sentence count.

The only trouble was that you had almost forgotten how to use words.

“Our mayor wasn’t someone I admired at all, but… His son found him” the image from the previous night flashed before your eyes as you allowed the feelings to speak, “I looked at that kid and I… I guess it just hit a little too close to home. That’s all” once you could meet his gaze, you raised your head, adding “So?”

What you found reflected at you only made everything harder. It took one look shared between you without any walls or pretending to know that you were right. Bruce did understand.

“Fine,” he nodded his head once, nothing but courtesy.

Yet it was exactly the confirmation you needed. Your heart sped up again as you grinned, unable to stop the rush of adrenaline from hitting your system. Because, although entirely tentative and promising nothing, Bruce allowed you to work with him a while longer. And that was enough. Ignoring the alarm sirens in your head, you quickly climbed the steps separating you from Bruce and stopped between his knees. Without waiting for him to act, you gently tipped his chin, studying the memorable face with care. Only the frown between the eyebrows deepened, and the lips parted as he responded to your actions. The mild confusion within the blue eyes mixed with shades of longing you had seen before. Acting on instincts, you swept the hair away from his face before leaning in to press a kiss to his forehead, allowing your lips to linger a little longer. If only to make sure he got the message. When you met his gaze again, Bruce stared at you with astonishment. Quite like someone who would never expect tenderness. Let alone from you. It was another good reason to widen your grin and squeeze his knee before announcing:

“C’mon honeybun, we’ve got a killer to catch” without checking the reaction, you ascended the staircase heading for the library.

You’ve got this. Right?

***

It was hard to say when the tension appeared. And even harder to tell what it meant. Only sometime within the hours you spent discussing the murder with Bruce, something shifted. Sure, he still reacted to your theories and offered insight as you presented the evidence. In this case, you were eager to back some of the fellow hyenas you met last night and place your bets on the infidelity side of the debate. It might not have been the motive but could have been one of the reasons for the why. That and corruption, naturally.

Bruce still seemed present in the room as you worked alongside him. But after you told Alfred that you would spend the night in the tower and not return home alone at night, something was different. It was that strained edge in his voice. That conscious effort not to meet your eye. That inability to stay perfectly still. And then it snapped.

You were going through a biographical entry on Don Mitchell Jr, taking notes on parts that seemed relevant, when within the corner of your eye, you registered movement. Bruce stood up from the armchair and wandered over to the table, radiating unease. You did not have to wait long for it to make sense.

“I’m sorry,” he spoke suddenly, throwing you out of focus with a jolt.

The moment you met his gaze, you knew he meant it. That type of earnest look could not be faked. And you were not sure if you liked where it was heading.

“For?” putting the laptop away to show interest in the conversation, you arched an eyebrow.

It was obvious. But you were never the one to let people get off easy. Especially not after such a heartache. Yes, heartache, denied one, but still.

“You know,” Bruce seemed to curl in on himself, eager to close off and end what he walked straight into.

Which only made you more desperate to push him further. A tiny smirk curled your mouth as you leaned forward in the chair, resting your arms on your knees, watching him intently.

“I do, but I want to hear you say it” there it is.

You did not think he could get stressed even more. And yet. Bruce covered his face with his hands for a beat, all the while pacing around the study as if unable to stop even for a moment. The curiosity peaked as you waited, feeling the jitters reach your system as your foot started tapping the parquet in an anxious rhythm. Because whatever he wanted to apologise for did not seem unimportant to him. Because it could offer answers to questions you were too afraid to ask. Suddenly you were glad Alfred bid you both goodnight a while ago.

Finally, after what felt like ages, Bruce faced you again and took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry for being rude towards you. For pushing you away for stupid reasons…” the regret was painted all over his features.

In the troubled, blue eyes that looked at you as if you mattered more than you ever thought possible. In the frown etched between the eyebrows drawn together. In the loosely tightened fists resting at his sides. Despite the mind urging you to keep the pressure on him a little longer, your heart let out a pained thump, reminding you of your secrets. Of all that was unsaid, and yet motived your every move for the past few weeks.

It was the heart that made you ask:

“There are reasons?”

There had to be. He said so himself. As you waited to hear them, a part of your logical brain knew it was one of those moments when something changes for good. Like that morning when your father left for work, and you never saw him again. Like the night you decided to scout the murder scene and met Bruce instead.

No matter what it was, you had to hear it. Unable to keep still, you stood up and joined him by the table, keeping the safety gap necessary to function. Meeting Bruce’s gaze over the space, you knew he felt it too. He took another moment to gather courage and spoke in a quiet, strained voice:

“The fact that you look at me and you see it all. You see me as I am and not as I want to be” his body grew even tenser as he seemed eager to flee the scene without giving you time to react.

As if he was fully expecting rejection. Laughter and ridicule. As if he never anticipated what you had to say in response. And that was simple.

“You’re missing a crucial part of the equation there” a gentle smile as you took a step closer, desperate to make him understand there was no danger awaiting here, “I see you exactly as you are, and I like it. I like you” as you whispered the words, the conviction grew.

You meant it. That was obvious. You did like him. Despite the sulking, the drama, and the differences. Even though he made no sense, and confused you beyond logic. Even though you were never looking for another chance of heartbreak.

What you found in Bruce’s gaze only made everything easier. His eyes widened as he let out a shuddered breath through the parted lips. The denial was bubbling on the surface as he seemed unable to accept your statement. You closed the gap before he spoke, carefully taking hold of his hand and relaxing the fist to entangle your fingers with his. With the other palm, you cupped his cheek, brushing the skin with your thumb. Bruce swallowed a sharp gasp as he choked out the protest:

“You can’t-” another pang in the heart.

It sounded familiar. As though his mistakes and shortcomings could change what you felt. As if getting to know him could only mean you changing your mind.

He had to know how wrong he was. You took another step closer, blocking his way out with his back against the table edge. After all, he could push you away anytime he wanted. And yet it still gave you the necessary bout of courage as you whispered the counterargument:

“I do” you rose on the toes to press a kiss to his cheek, replacing the touch of your palm.

Bruce let a sharp hiss and froze as you slid your hand to the nape of his neck and pulled him a little closer. It was easy to let go, trailing careful kisses to the corner of his mouth and then down towards the edge of the sharp jawline. It was a simple act of confirmation, signing off the confession and proving you meant it. Your lips glided over the edge of his jaw, feeling the burn from his stubble and how Bruce shuddered, responding to your caress. He still did not push you away, evidently battling the wants and fears in the quiet of his mind.

You had to make sure he understood there was a way out. Leaning back, your eyes swept over his remarkable features and over the closed eyelids to place a final sentence right before him. To solve the dilemma, he could be trapped within.

“If you want me to stop… I will” that simple.

Bruce opened his eyes with an audible exhale. The sea blue irises pulled you in, overwhelming your senses with the depths of feelings visible underneath the cracked surface. Want was there, dilating the pupils and making his breath grow shallow. Fear was there, too, in the light tremors of his fingers, secured in your grasp. Yet it was the need to let go that seemed most fascinating. The desire to forget about everything holding him back and embrace what could be. What you wanted to give him, even if for a moment. The past was inescapable, but one could always ignore its existence. You knew Bruce understood.

He placed his hands on your waist, pulling you close again. The warmth of the contact spread over your body as he hiked up your shirt to touch your bare skin. It was enough to remember what you wanted. To remember to forget about everything that wasn’t Bruce. Easy. Boldened by the feel of his fingers exploring your upper body, you pressed your lips to his neck. Leaving thousands of kisses over the skin. Gently catching his skin between your teeth to make him gasp and whimper. Licking over the damage to make him melt into you, consuming you with warmth and need. To make him unravel underneath your hands and mouth. To make him remember this if nothing else.

The old clock in the hallway had struck midnight. The loud noise broke through your haze, making you pull back and meet Bruce’s wild gaze. His lips were parted, cheeks ablaze. Whatever you did had an effect. But it wasn’t enough. Not yet. Not like this. Because taking what you wanted never felt good. Because this time, you actually cared. And that changed everything. Guilt gnawed at your heart as you took a step back, making his hands fall to his sides. Only now did you realise how cold it was with the fire long gone.

“I should probably go,” it was the head speaking this time, silencing the heart, “Goodnight, Bruce,” forcing out a gentle smile, you quickly picked up your belongings and headed for the door.

“Goodnight,” Bruce spoke quietly, making you stop in the doorway for a split second.

If he asked, you knew the answer. It wasn’t fear. It wasn’t that you didn’t want him. It’s only that you want him too much. And that is enough.

#the batman #robert pattinson #the batman x reader #the batman 2022 #the batman x y/n #the batman x you #battinson #battinson x reader #battinson x you #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne x y/n #batman #batman x reader #batman x y/n #batman x you #robert pattinson x reader #robert pattinson x y/n #robert pattinson!batman x reader #robert pattinson!bruce wayne #waiting for the night

[labratboygirl]

The Tism™️ hath struck again………

#NOOOOO #I DONT WANNA LET GO OF MY TWOMP FIXATION #I MEAN I LOVE GHS AND ALL BUT #I DONT WANNA LET GOOOOOOO #HELPPPP #my art #get grinkled boy

[demon64]

So, a while ago I got started on a Hades/Darksiders crossover fanfic. I got two chapters out and then it went on hiatus essentially. Lately, I have been itching to get back to, so I got started on chapter three. Here's the beginning parts of chapter three of Hades Hath No Fury...

"Augh, damn it!" Said Zagreus.

So close, yet still so far. Having lost to the Rider of the Black Horse once again, Zagreus pulled himself out of the House’s pool of Styx water. Cracking his neck and catching up with Megaera and Thanatos, the prince would go for another run through the Underworld. He felt that this time he could defeat Fury, he had succeeded in beating her but she had also succeeded in killing him. Jumping out of the courtyard/balcony window and down to his father’s doorstep, the prince met his first Olympian for this run, Ares.

“Hello, my kin. It has been a while since I last saw you here. Making it to the surface well enough, I presume. ” Ares spoke, his last line almost like a question.

“Not lately. Fury is still in my way.” Zagreus said out loud, more to himself since he presumed Ares could not hear him. What he had not noticed was a small raising of Ares’ eyebrow, as if he was baffled by that battered state of Zagreus’ body.

Closing his eyes and taking a boon, Zagreus felt a surge of Ares’ power flow through him, a lust for battle rolling through quickly before settling. Dashing forward, he struck the shade, a sword of crimson energy quickly appearing before stabbing downward. Doing the same to the other nearby shade, the ever-dying god would be let through to the next room of Tartarus. Forward and up he went, grabbing another boon or two from Artemis, Athena, and Aphrodite.

“Don’t be afraid to give a big shout when you call.” Said Artemis, her voice tinged with… something.

“Sometimes a good defense is the best offense.” Said Athena sagely and emotionless.

“Tell her that Aphrodite sends her regards.” Ominously spoke the Goddess of Love, as if she had a bone to pick with someone.

Zagreus wondered what was up with all of them. They looked after him, may even be a bit more than just family to him, but there was something else. Something for him to wonder more about after his next duel with the Wielder of Scorn.

Stepping inside the “arena,” Zagreus saw Fury stretching before turning around as the door thudded shut. Both once again had a staring contest before charging at each other. Fury jumped with her whip at the ready, lashing out with it as Zagreus dashed, the boon he got from Athena activating and sending the hit right back at the Rider of the Black Horse. The Horsewoman grunted in pain before turning quickly and getting a good lash in at Zagreus as he stood. In pain yet not ready to give up just yet, he started going on the offensive. Back and forth they traded blows, the two ending up with many wounds from the attacks. Zagreus had even called upon Artemis for help, yet all it did was leave the Horsewoman more angry. 

Panting and barely holding themselves up, both combatants ran forward, Zagreus dashing at the last second to activate Athena’s boon, only for Fury to dodge backwards as he did so. She aimed to counterattack, only for Zagreus to dash again and cast his boon from Aphrodite, leaving the Nephilim weak for but a second. Long enough for Zagreus to deal the final blow.

... And there we go! Hope you enjoyed this couple paragraphs of what I wrote! I got a couple more things to write for this and then chapter three will be up where I posted the fic. I'll probably self-reblog the post I made that links to the actual fic.

#darksiders series #darksiders #hades #four horsemen of the apocalypse #fury #zagreus #ares #artemis #athena #aphrodite #crossover fanfiction #fanfiction #crossover