#working on getting my last pieces while some are temporary

[vaard]

After 7 years in the same mog, I'm finally retiring Vaard from the 7th Legion set and retiring him from the Stormwind forces as a whole. He's finally getting that coffee shop and moving to a more basic adventuring armor set that I can show off later once I get the last pieces for it.

Lore-wise it probably happened around the end of BFA after getting injured in a Warfront, preventing him from cannonically going to Shadowlands. That 6 year downtime between that and Dragonflight's a good enough time as any. I've been thinking about it for a long while and that stretch of time feels right

I'll get a reveal and sketches soon! RNG needs to be kind on me for this last belt in which only the vault can help me with.

[kianamaiart]

tattoo tour!

got some asks about my own tattoos! i've talked about em on my other blog but not here i think

opihi shell

this was my first tattoo! when i was little, my grandma would call me her "little opihi" because i'd stick by her side all the time and i thought it'd be an appropriate and meaningful tattoo to get.

________________________

team rocket rose

another tattoo i designed along with @/loinktattoos on insta. dedicated to my love for jessie, james and meowth. it's a rose with a blast off star and a "TR" in the leaf~

________________________

tsuta mon

my japanese side of the family's crest! my brother, mom and i all have it~

________________________

lignum vitae flower

a tattoo of jamaica's national flower to celebrate my jamaican heritage. tattooed by @/loinktattoos and designed by @/sablingart on twitter

________________________

doughnut

it's the doughnut from the kpop girl group twice's song "doughnut" LOL. it's maybe my favorite song ever (?). they also raaarely play their japanese songs outside of japan but i got to hear it live and it solidified my love for the song

________________________

arbok tattoo

much like how i love team rocket, i love arbok. i sometimes draw jessie with an arbok marking tattoo on her chest and i considered doing that too but doing it on my wrist seemed like a nice placement. plus i can make my hand look like a snake and i think that's fun

________________________

brushstroke tattoo

my first purely aesthetic tattoo and also my biggest piece! i found @/reina.asami's work on instagram and instantly fell in love with their style. a lot of their work centers around japanese culture and specifically japanese american culture. i had such a lovely conversation with them about being mixed and my experiences. we also talked about the irony of honoring our japanese heritage with tattoos haha

________________________

botan hanafuda card

one of my favorite games to play with my grandparents on my japanese side is hanafuda! i've always loved how pretty the cards looks and all the different flowers. each suit corresponds to a month and the botan is for june (my birth month)

________________________

bat

i like bats hehe. i had a tattoo themed birthday party last year where my friends made "kiana themed" tattoos and we put them on temporary tattoo sheets. but also @/loinktattoos was there to give anyone who wanted a real tattoo a real tattoo. and i got a bat designed by one of my best friends @/ghostbri, who shares my love of bats~

________________________

botan

i came across @/miyookstatto's instagram a while back and reaaaally wanted a tattoo from her at some point. problem was she was based in seattle. however! i had a wedding in seattle coming up and tried to see if i could book an appointment the day i landed and she happened to have a spot open!

________________________

wobbuffet

my most recent tattoo and maybe one of the most special. my brother and i have been wanting matching tattoos for yeaaaars but couldn't really think of anything to get. our love for pokemon was always something we had in common but he models and can't have anything copyrighted on his body. however, one of his favorite pokemon is ditto and i got the idea to just do its face because you could argue that it's just a smiley haha. so i decided to get just a wobbuffet face to match! what made it special is that we were able to tattoo each other! he did stick and poke for mine and i got to use a machine which was rad.

that's all for now!! i want more so badddd. definitely want a back piece at some point and would also love to get a little shooting star to commemorate making "i don't want to be a magical girl"

[rasha-ahmed2002]

On the morning of October 7th

Gaza woke up to the sound of bombings and explosions, as if the sky had opened to rain fire that would never stop. In a small neighborhood filled with simple dreams, lived Ahmed, a hardworking man trying to provide for his family, his loving and patient wife Rasha, their one-year-old daughter Mariam, and their newborn baby Suleiman, just a month old. 🏠💔

As the bombings intensified and houses collapsed around them, Ahmed realized their home, the place where they built their memories, was no longer safe. In a moment of panic, he grabbed his two children—Mariam, who clung to him crying, and baby Suleiman, too small to understand the chaos. Rasha, her hands trembling, tried to pack whatever she could—diapers, a milk bottle, and some warm clothes. Everything happened so fast, as if they were racing against death itself. 🏃‍♂️👩‍🍼

They fled south, where they were told there might be temporary safety. But the journey was a nightmare. Ahmed walked with a heavy heart, every step feeling like a piece of his soul was being torn away. 💔 Mariam sobbed in fear and hunger, while Suleiman whimpered weakly in his arms. Rasha followed closely, carrying a small bag, her eyes filled with tears, terrified of losing everything.

After hours of walking, they arrived at what was described as a "safe place." It was nothing more than an open field crowded with families who had also lost their homes. They found shelter under a tree 🌳, feeling like their world had collapsed. With only a thin blanket to protect them from the cold, Mariam fell asleep in her mother's arms, while Suleiman cried out of hunger—there was no more milk left. 🍼❌

Ahmed sat at a distance, staring at his family with helplessness. He remembered his small shop, the place where he worked every day, and how Mariam used to run to greet him with a smile when he came home. Now, he had nothing left—no home, no job, not even hope. 😔

Rasha, despite her pain, tried to stay strong. But every night, she cried silently as she looked at her two children, wondering how she would feed them or keep them safe. The days dragged on, each one heavier than the last, bringing more despair with it.

One day, Ahmed received news that the shop where he worked had been completely destroyed. It felt like another knife had pierced his heart. He didn’t know how he could start over again or rebuild his life in a world shattered by war. 🏚️💔

As time passed, all they had left were memories. Memories of their small home that once held them together, Mariam’s first laughter, and the sweet scent of newborn Suleiman. These memories became their only treasure as they faced an uncertain future.💔💔

The war had stolen everything from them, but it couldn’t steal their love for one another. ❤️ Every night, Ahmed would tell Rasha, “We will rebuild everything one day. Not just for us, but for Mariam and Suleiman. They are our only hope.”

But even that hope seemed like a distant mirage, a glimmer of light in a desert of pain. ✨

Amidst this suffering, we need your support, whether through donations or by sharing this message to reach as many people as possible who can help.

Every contribution, no matter how small, helps make this hope a tangible reality.

Even with just a 5€ contribution, you can help build hope for a family in desperate need.

Let’s work together to ease the pain and light the way for those who need it. Share, donate, and be part of this change.

Please help my family🙏🏻🥺🥺

vetted by

[alphajocklover]

what do you think about nerd jock hybrids where a nerd is forced to join the football team where his nerd body is turn into a jocks body but remain fairly nerdy in manner, an intellectual at heart but have the body &  confidence  of a jock

No offense man, but I think you maaaay have read just a few to many of these stories. While many of the people who get transformed into jocks end up like the stereotype, dumb, cocky and toxic, but in reality there are plenty of people who have both brains and brawn. Not to mention, I have actually transformed someone into a jock and let them keep their mind before. Actually I didn’t transform them, but I did report on their transformation. They were one of the rare people to find the revert mind setting in instaJock, something I think the Master put there specifically to mess with people. From what I know now he’s doing pretty good now. Their new body left them with some startling new urges and a manly musk he can’t quite cover up, but they’ve been able to overcome that and put both their body and mind to good use. He and I became pretty good friends, and last I heard he was talking about becoming an astronaut. But I should probably stop with the update and get down to brass tacks. What you’re really asking is if it’s possible for you to become a smart jock, and I’m happy to tell you that it is! While making someone into a stereotype is easier, it's not that hard to change a few things, and I’m certain at least someone in the tf community could give you the body and the confidence without the intelligence loss. The only thing we really need to do is decide how. Normally I’d go over the options, but I’ll admit I’m not sure if any of the tf methods I’ve mentioned so far would really work. Lucky for you, I have a couple new tf methods that I haven’t even used yet that I’ll let you choose from! Your first option is, well, steroids. I know, steroids will make your muscles grow, what a shock! But these are special steroids, ones from the future. I had to take another trip there recently, and picked these up. It turns out steroids get a lot stronger in the next 30 years or so. They don’t have as many negative side effects as regular steroids, and work much faster, but there is a bit of a downside. Mainly anger. Yes, while the balding and acne is no longer an issue, roid rage still is. The difference is its less of sudden burst of rage, and more of a permanent alteration to your personality. You’ll become more aggressive and competitive, more manly and possibly a little toxic. You won’t get any dumber, but you will change. So if you're not one for anger and competition, you might need to pick another one.

Your other option is a piece of candy. As I’ve mentioned before there are a lot of transformation companies out there, and one of my personal favorites has to be Conversion Candy. It's a pretty small shop, one that sells a variety of magical and delicious products, including Himbo Cotton Candy, Muscle bear gummy bears, and Beefy Bull Choco-bites. Personally I’d recommend their version of M&Ms, Muscles and Mind, since those let you get buff and confident while keeping your mind. The only caveat is that they, like every treat from Conversion Candy, are temporary, so you’d have to buy some every week. If you want it to be a one and done type of deal, we need the other option.

So, steroids or sweets? The choice is yours. Either way, I hope you enjoy a life of both beef and brains. Not a lot of people get that, and to be honest not a lot can handle it. Good luck.

[gatitties]

War & crack II

—Task Force 141 x young!reader

—Summary: more headcanons with your team as you being chaotic

—Warnings: none

Part One / Halloween special

yeah, I didn't finish my brainstorm and I bring more things from this sudden idea 🫣

─ Listen, you have a lot of problems.

─ And we are not talking about your jokes about death biting your ass anymore.

─ Price's going to go bald before he retires, how the hell are you still alive today? It is a mystery to them.

─ Everyone noticed during a mission where they had to stay in a safe house for a few weeks that you had the same concentration as a fly, empty thoughts behind your eyes lost in a distant point of reality.

─ You looked like another person when you were a simple civilian, Gaz had to pull you so you wouldn't get run over a couple of times for not looking at the traffic lights.

─ Price needs to put on videos of crunchy slime or Subway Surfers so you could hear what he was saying, (Soap won't admit that it also helps him focus).

─ They discovered that you can sleep in any position, seriously, whether it's standing up, in the bathtub, your body bent in an unusual way, now they understand why you complain so much about back pain.

─ Everyone looks in silence when they give you little impulses to do stupid things, like, last time you were walking to see the area and you found a woman walking her dog, you asked her if you could pet it and when she said yes you pet the woman instead of the dog, Ghost dragged you away murmuring an apology.

─ The following days they decided that you would stay at home, they simply fed your stupidity, every time they arrived you received them with the phrase 'where have you been, loca?' while playing a wolf howl in the background.

─ Luckily it was time to return to the base, during the trip you were listening to music, despite having your headphones you had the volume so high that everyone could hear it, Soap stuck to you because he liked what you were listening, the others decided to drown out the noise with some light talk.

─ Once you returned to the base you relaxed, returning to your working state, you focused again, which relieved all.

─ One day they decided that you needed a nickname since everyone had it except you, so they began to investigate your record as a cadet and even your years in the military school.

─ You kicked and fought because you were something else a while ago, but it was inevitable to find an old report where it said that you were violent with some classmates.

─ And in your anger for probably some nonsense, you ended up biting the ankles of a guy, or a group of guys, or even one of your lieutenants...

─ Soap and Gaz cried with laughter because there was a video of what was evidenced and you looked like a rabid chihuahua attacking its worst enemy.

─ Nibbles, at least it was temporary because you didn't entirely agree with the nickname.

— Since you were now known like that, you went from friendly punches to friendly bites.

─ Once you got kidnapped and you returned to the base the next day because your captors couldn't stand having you sing old Justin Bieber songs or listening to you talk about all your obsessions, they tried to cover your mouth but you just kept making too much noise, the information was not worth it.

─ You arrived in the middle of the meeting they had to prepare the rescue, having the courage to enter the room asking who they were trying to rescuing.

─ Price casually replied that they were looking for you until he did a double take, realizing you were there.

─ You were buried in a mass of muscles after the realization.

─ When you're depressed at random times (because you don't understand how your brain works and you feel bad out of nowhere), everyone will quickly notice, like even though you're not the most talkative person all the time, you usually drop some stupid comment, but on your bad days you are simply a piece of flesh and bones that walks without knowing where it's going.

─ The first time they saw you like this they tried to do something to cheer you up, Price gave you a few days off hoping your mood wasn't due to work overload, he even wrote some of your reports.

─ Soap bought stickers and decorations to your liking to decorate your prosthesis, he also told you that he could draw you a design to have your personalized arm.

─ Gaz tried to talk to you but you just didn't want to open your mouth, he chose to just keep you silent company, maybe you hug him, you need a little physical support.

─ Ghost will leave objects scattered around knowing that you would find them, knowing that they were things that you liked or had been looking for (because the poor guy always has to pick up what you forget around the common room).

— Nothing seemed to work until a stray kitten snuck in and lit up your face, so the easy answer was any baby animal would brighten your day, it was free therapy.

— You once dyed the boys' clothes pink by accident, but at least you told them that now they could go see Barbie with you.

— You promised you'd take them to see Oppenheimer, and that's why they agreed.

— You created a group chat just to send shitpost and teach them the meme path.

— Price just leaves it on seen, Ghost has the group muted, Gaz answers from time to time and Soap is the most active, he learns fast about today's shitpost.

— You really resist the urge to trim Price's beard to make it heart-shaped.

— You use the radio to sing parts of songs when you take too long to jump into action, Price scolds you for it.

— You complain that he seems constantly in a bad mood and you open a profile for him on every dating app you know, even on Grindr.

— You found Ghost's profile browsing Tinder and Soap's profile on Grindr... you decided to use it as a weapon in case you needed any favors.

— Gaz caught you red-handed, but you made a deal and he wouldn't say anything if he can profit from the manipulation.

— You hide it like you're hiding war crimes.

— Why does Price have so many likes from single moms?

[vrystalius]

hello! your halloween event sounds super cute, can i please request going trick-or-treating with gyutaro shabana? 🩷🩷 love your work and really admire you as a person and a writer, please take care!

Trick or Treating with Gyutaro.

The only day of the year where he can feel a little more confident in his own skin.

Pairing: Gyutaro x gn!reader

Gyutaro was staring at you while you were leaning closer towards your mirror, trying to paint the birthmarks of his perfectly onto your face. You wanted to match with him while going out to trick or treat, much to his surprise. He thought you might be ashamed to go out with him or go out with Daki. But after asking his sister if she’d like to go out, she bashed him for treating her like a child. He beat himself up for upsetting his sister like that, so you suggested you two could go together! Gyutaro looks a scary and special, like a really cool costume! What he would’ve taken as an insult any other day was now perceived as a compliment. The excitement especially started bubbling up in his stomach while watching you try to match him so badly. You spend hours trying to mix up the correct foundation colour on his palm until you finally managed to kind of recreate his skin colour.

After an hour of work, you and your boyfriend were finally matching! Although your posture and body type is not exactly the same, the resemblance was still there. Now all you two have to do is wait until the sun goes down and he is finally able to leave to house. But until then, Gyutaro has gotten awfully cuddly. He didn’t bother to explain why the sudden affection because you were to distracted trying to shield your face to not smudge your make-up. He couldn’t stop staring at the black spots and markings you copied. They made him feel like you two were bonded now, like soulmates. You had a piece of him marked on you now, even if it is just temporary and supposed to be a scary costume, it still made him feel all warm and fuzzy how hard you were trying to imitate his marks.

After night finally came, Gyutaro kept snickering and laughing at the sad excuses of costumes some random kids put together. Your boyfriend also found immense joy in scaring toddlers. He straightened his back to make himself even taller and would flash his teeth, giggling and silently showing off his sharp nails. Those poor kids ran back to their mother or to wherever they came from. Why are there even kids in the entertainment district?

You were a little envious at how much candy Gyutaro was scoring. His success was either because people found him to have a very convincing costume (with his waist looking so inhumane and his skin looking so sickly all over his body), or because he was silently threatening the home owners to hand over all of their remaining sweets. That way you can enjoy the most amount and no other stupid kids can eat them. Maybe you can hand out some candy in Daki’s brothel if you don’t want to keep the multiple buckets of candy. Gyutaro saw how little candy you were getting in comparison to him and proceeded to slip some over into your bucket everytime you’re not paying attention. It was making him happy seeing your eyes lit up when glancing into the bucket and finally noticing how your amount increased by a lot. That last guy sure gave you a lot of candy, huh? Or at least that’s what your boyfriend made you think to keep you happy.

“Here, t-take my stuff. I can’t eat it anyway… B-But can I watch you sort it through though? I wanna s-see what kinda candy I can get ya for the f-future…”

I’m going to be real with you, one of my closest friends has the EXACT same pfp as you, and when I saw the notification that you started following me, I thought you were her 😭 I was really confused and scared for a day or two XD (my friends aren’t aware of this blog yet). Also, don’t be shy to send in some requests for this event! <33

Anyways, I love Gyutaro, but also EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

Take care of yourselves <3

Here’s my event masterlist 🎃

Here’s my Trick or Treat event 🎃

[takusan-no-ai]

Well, aren’t you a cutie

PAIRING: Jane x Male Reader (Romantic) (Suggestive)

SUMMARY: (Y/N) meets Jane Doe, and a simple friendship becomes something more.

You’re an officer working at New Eridu Public Security, having been a member for some years now. The top of your class in the training academy, and past roommates with Seth, it’s safe to say you had connections in the industry.

Those connections led to you being entrusted as a “thug” for an undercover operation. Naturally, you were entrusted to work with your new temporary boss, Jane Doe. And boy, she wasn’t anything you were expecting.

For starters, she was a flirt; “Hey there handsome, nice to meet you. Think you can carry my luggage to the car? Your big strong arms can handle it~”. It was never ending with this woman. And the worst part is that after a while it started to work; being complimented just felt good, especially when it came from her.

You’re pretty good at undercover work, so you were effortlessly able to keep up with Jane’s choices and adapt accordingly. It built a nice camaraderie between you two. Fortunately, this didn’t stop after the mission was done.

Letting out a grunt, (Y/N) stretched in his chair, ready for his shift to finally end. Someone knocked on his desk beside him, though he already knew who it was. Jane Doe, who was now leaning over his chair to face him upside down. Her rat tail swaying back and forth.

“I have another mission next week. I was hoping you’d be my underling again.” She said. (Y/N) smirked, seeing an opportunity to get back at Jane for all that teasing last time.

“As much as I enjoy being under you, I don’t like mixing work and pleasure, Jane. You should pick someone who’s more qualified rather than someone you just miss.” He teased. Jane hummed before sitting on his lap and taking a bite out of the apple he was saving for later.

“I can’t help it. A guy with such charisma like you is all the pleasure I need. Work with me, and make me happy~” Jane countered his attempt without even trying. A blush appeared on both of their faces; one anxious, and the other excited.

“I’m starting to think you’re talking about more than work, Jane.” (Y/N) said cautiously. Jane smiled, getting up while her tail wrapped around his waist.

“Nonsense. I simply mix work and pleasure.” She walked off, giggling. (Y/N) chased after her, only to be met with a crumbled piece of paper smacking him on the face.

“Call Me. - JD”

- Fin

[ginnyruin]

Altered State by ginnyruin announcement:

TL;DR: I’m rewriting my fic and will be posting two chapters a week until we reach the new update, Chapter 55. I’m excited to share the changes, including new characterizations and scenes, and new artwork by Nurchie.

long message:

Hi everyone,

I’ve been working on a rewrite on and off since I took a break last year. There were times when I wasn’t sure I’d continue — burnout can be tough— but revisiting the old chapters slowly drew me back in. What started as fixing a few things I wasn’t happy with eventually turned into a full rewrite. 

I initially intended to release Chapter 55 without sharing the rewrite first, especially since I know some readers have been waiting for a continuation of the story. I really didn’t want to disappoint. However, I realized that wouldn’t do the story justice.

I thought it might be best to release two chapters a week until we reach the new content with Chapter 55.

Subscribers on Ao3 won’t be getting any emails about these updates.

Just one email when the fic is first taken out of the collection because Ao3 does that automatically, and another when Chapter 55 goes live. I’ll be updating the date of the fic whenever a new chapter of the rewrite is posted, so it may appear in the tags for anyone who’s looking for it.

I might post update news here... but I really don't want to annoy people.

I won’t be deleting the original chapter webpages (since I deeply treasure your comments), but for now, they’ll serve as temporary pages even if it's empty. I know the word count and chapter count might look odd, but I hope you all understand.

I’ve deleted and rewritten entire chapters, reworked characterizations (Abraxas Malfoy for one, is so much more the original Death Eater you expect him to be). The atmosphere has become a little darker, everyone is slightly more miserable, but there will be some more humor too. While the essence of the story and most of the narrative progression remains the same, it feels like a deeper, more complete version now.

I’m also incredibly excited to share that Nurchie has repainted some of the older artwork, adding new details that reflect how her art and the story have evolved together. She’s also painted some jaw-droppingly gorgeous, brand-new pieces for the rewrite scenes, which I can’t wait for you to see. I’ve been eagerly following her progress with each new piece, and her work never fails to inspire me. She’s also my beta reader and has been such a huge source of encouragement and joy, and I couldn’t be more grateful.

Nurchie and I are both doing this purely for the joy of it in our free time. It’s a passion project for us, and we’re genuinely excited to share it with you. We’re not active on social media and aren’t making any money from this. It’s just something we love to create. 

Thanks so much for your ongoing support—whether you choose to revisit the rewrite or wait until it’s all finished, or not read the rewrite at all, I truly appreciate every bit of engagement. Your comments and thoughts here and on Ao3 have motivated me more than you know, and I’m excited to share this updated version with you.

[sunshinereddie]

Do you have any like domestic, established relationship reddie headcanons? I have one where like after living together for a while Eddie starts this crazy beef with one of their neighbors in like a passive-aggressive midwestern way (kind of like Peggy and Minh, actually, if you've seen King of the Hill). Like theyre always smiling and chatting with each other but then Eddie gets home like 'I CANNOT believe her. She thinks she can put up her tacky ass Live Laugh Love garden rocks and then have the nerve to tell me my fescue is looking a little DRY????' And Richie is like 'uhuh thats nice dear' and its 100% going in his next special

LAAAAWWWRD YES THIS IS WHAT IM TALKING ABOUT

i absolutely love eddie having insane passive aggressive beef with his neighbour that’s perfection. adding on to that, richie purposefully brings up stuff the neighbour did (“i saw her watering her lawn for like 20 minutes yesterday, what did she forget we’re in a drought or something???”) just to get eddie’s reaction 1. because richie loves the drama 2. it’s cute to see eddie get worked up over something so inconsequential and 3. he needs new material for his next show

in the same vein as eddie’s neighbour beef, love imagining the opposite where richie has a mad feud going on with the squirrel that keeps stealing all the bird seed richie puts out FOR THE BIRDS. he’s given the squirrel a name and everything and complains to eddie about it and now eddie is the one like “that’s nice dear. now let me fucking tell you what linda said about my tulips”

but more on domestic reddie hcs:

richie always makes eddie lunch when he can bc he knows that eddie won’t make lunch for himself and will be so busy at work that if he doesn’t have something to eat he’ll skip lunch all together or just drink 2 extra cups of coffee as a replacement and then be all hangry when he gets home. so richie meal preps him lunches or makes sure to pack him leftovers or even sometimes brings eddie lunch at work bc hangry eddie is scary eddie (also richie wants to make sure his husband is well fed and gets all his daily nutrients. but hangry eddie is scary too)

richie as a celebrity living in LA definitely has some……….. interesting interior decor choices. so after they move in together eddie’s like “please we have to go shopping. why the fuck do you have a statue of [insert weird modern art thing that richie bid way too much money on at an auction] in the living room. that couch is horrendous did you find it in the dumpster. when was the last time you vacuumed your carpet.” and so they go shopping together for furniture and decor and richie finds that it’s actually fun to design and create his and eddie’s home. like it’s their home. their home together. there are pieces of richie’s style and pieces of eddie’s style and pieces of richieandeddie’s style because it’s their home that they are creating together. he’s having a blast. meanwhile eddie is yelling at the furniture store employee because what do you mean you don’t have this couch in more than one colour, what kind of business are you running. also the colour you do have is ugly as shit, who made that choice.

neither of them are good at dealing with the temporary long-distance whenever richie goes away on tour. sometimes eddie’s able to take a day or two off work and DIY a long weekend to go with richie when he can, sometimes eddie is able to fly out for the night if the show is close enough but most of the time when it’s time for tour richie is gone for days sometimes weeks and they are BOTH really grumpy about it. but even when they’re both tired after work, even when they’re in different time zones, even when they’re both busy, they make time to facetime every day, just to hear each other’s voices and see each other’s faces, even if they’re only chatting for 10 mins before richie goes on stage or right before eddie falls asleep, that 10 mins is the best part of their day. and whenever richie gets back, they are always super clingy with each other for the next few days. they love each other!!!!

i just think that they deserve to be happy forever and ever and ever and ever

[hashimasims]

Absalom: I brought you breakfast.

Elucea: I'm not hungry, that's why I didn't stay to eat.

Absalom: Please eat, just a little?

Elucea: You don't care that I came back in here.

Absalom: Is that a question or a statement?

Elucea: Statement. Sorry I didn't mean to rummage through your head.

Absalom: You're welcome any time, that's why I leave the door open. Everyone knows you're a bit overwhelmed right now and don't expect you to interact with them. Well, except Kan anyway, he's being a bit of a grump-fish. What are you doing?

Elucea: Just checking things on the internet. The news you told me not to look at. I just want . . . I don't know what I want. Draining and drowning that woman sounds too merciful. And come look at this! I got an email from someone named Devin Villareal asking me to join them in Tartosa for a reality show: "Changingplumbob's Dating Deanna". Hey isn't that the one Kaye was telling us about?

Absalom: I think it is, not as a contestant I hope.

Elucea: No, as a guest judge. I don't think I want to go. There's too much going on here I . . . I don't think I could handle it right now.

Absalom: Go. Kan and I can hold down the fort here for a little while. It looks like the dates they need you are after the School's birthday so you wont miss it. If it would make you feel more comfortable then take them with you and hire a nanny for while you're there. I know you don't like the idea but it's only temporary. You need to go. Unwind, have some fun, decompress and get away from the Llamashit going on here right now.

Elucea: Kan wont like it.

Absalom: Woohock him! He and I need to have a chat anyway about last night and I'm mentioning how he makes you feel like a possession. I think I need to talk to Paka'a as well, some things were said that don't sit well with me. I don't like the idea of you being away either but you need it. Give Devin a call and then I would like to speak to her, see if she'd be willing to boost security for you. I'll pay for it of course.

Elucea: I don't need any security

Absalom: After last ni-

Elucea: It was all in my head remember?

Absalom: Don't care, I'll feel better if you had it.

Elucea: You really think I should go?

Absalom: You're not a prisoner here El, and I won't let you stay locked away. You promised to talk to Hypnos professionally and I will hold you to that but maybe getting away for a while, away from us, will do you some good too.

Elucea: OK. I'll call her right now

Absalom: When you're done Nitäl has a surprise for you downstairs

Beginning|Previous|Next

BTW: Thank you @changingplumbob for giving me a reason I didn't have to think of myself to send El off on her own for a little while! She was eventually going to end up in Tartosa (on her own preferably but I did write snippets to work off of in case that didn't happen). I knew it was going to be after the children had their birthday but between "story boards" for the future of the Glynnan story and writing (and rewriting) the flashback pieces I never actually figured out the reason for her being there besides that's where she meets a couple new characters or the actual time table of her adventures there.

[notthefirstfallenangel]

Memories II

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, mention of injury, amnesia, alcohol mixed with meds

Summary: You had your memory wiped after a messed-up mission. All that you remember is your childhood and fragmented glimpses of your teenage and adult years. Poor Simon, your would-be hubby, is left to pick up the pieces when you can't even recall his existence.

Words: 1.8k

A/N: I had so much fun writing this! Hope you like it🤍

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4

It was close to 8 o’clock when Simon lit a cigarette, the red end glowing in the darkness. The smoke curled up above him into the starless night, forming swirling patterns as it dissipated. He sat on the cold roof of the barracks, his legs stretched out before him and his back resting against the wall. His mask was rolled up to just below his nose, exposing his full lips set in a stoic expression.

The back of his head hurt, his muscles ached, and his stomach rumbled. He had a crick in his neck, and his butt was numb. He had been up there for almost an hour now, and the pack of cigarettes laid empty next to him. It had become a habit for him to go up there after visiting you in the hospital, a temporary escape from reality and a way to manage his worries.

His hands were rough and callused, strong, sturdy, and dependable. His hands cradled the cigarette. The tip of the cigarette glowed red hot in the night air; the paper began to burn his fingers. The heat felt good, the only sensation on his body that told him he was alive. The smoke rose slowly and smelled good, almost relaxing.

His expression was grim as he gazed into the distance. There, in the darkening sky, he saw a streak of lightning in the distance, and he thought of you, lying alone in that sterile hospital room, unable to remember him. 

The only rule he had up there on that roof was not to think about anything about your condition — it was like a game of Taboo, and he had lost again.

He mumbled a curse under his breath.

When the doctors told him that you had suffered a traumatic injury to the hippocampus, he felt like the worst kind of monster was released from his cage. His heart sank and did not stop falling. He blamed himself for not being there when it happened.

Your childhood memories were still intact, but everything else seemed blurry and disjointed. Even some of your teenage years and early adulthood felt like a fog, leaving only fragmentary recollections in their wake.

The only tangible proof that the love you two shared for each other existed was the band of gold around your finger. He had stored it away carefully like a hidden treasure after you handed it back to him with tears in your eyes, telling him that you didn’t know who he was.

 “Mind if I join you?”

 He turned to see Price standing behind him, a cigar between his fingers, igniting the end with a few flicks of a match.

 “Be my guest.”

 Price sat beside him; their two forms a perfect contrast in the dark. While Simon appeared troubled, Price was relaxed, his expression peaceful despite the gloomy surroundings.

“The storm’s almost here,” Price blew a plume of smoke. “But it won’t last for long.”

 “But until it does, it’ll be a bloody mess.”

 “How’s she holdin’ up?”

 “It ain’t good.”They sat silently for a while, the only sounds being the gentle rustle of the leaves in the wind and the quiet but steady pattern of raindrops hitting the pavement.

Price took another drag from his cigar, sending a cloud of smoke into the air. “You want my opinion?”

 “Sure”

 “You’re pushing too hard.”

 Simon stared at him in silence. He couldn’t deny that Price was right — but he was struggling to accept it.

“She doesn’t remember a bloody thing,” he said. “At times, she acts as if she’s trying like there’s something in the back of her mind. But then nothing.” He tossed the cigarette over the edge of the roof and continued. “I try so bloody damned hard, but no matter what I do, it doesn’t work. And then she gets pissed off at me.”

 “I know... but giving up isn’t an option, is it? I know you’re not like that.”

Simon rested his hands in his pockets and stared at the distance, contemplating. The rain kept dropping lazily around them while the storm threw its wrath over the city.

Then, finally, he spoke. “No... no, I don’t want to give up. But it’s so hard, Price. Got nothin’ to cling on to,” He muttered under his breath. “I... I jus’ wish I could do much more.”

 Price’s voice was low and soothing, as if he were carefully measuring each word before speaking. “You can’t make her mind rush to remember. It’s gotta sort itself out in its own time.”

 Simon fell silent. He wanted to believe Price’s soothing words—he really did—but his own anxiety and frustration made it difficult, if not impossible.

 Price crushed his cigar under his foot.” C’mon. Let’s go back inside. Come on, mate.”

 As he stood, an unspoken understanding passed between them. He extended his arm in a silent offer of assistance; Simon hesitated, then leaned forward and clasped Price’s hand, letting the other man haul him to his feet. 

 They headed back inside; the barrack’s warm lights and dry air were a welcome contrast to the cold outside.

“You okay?” he asked again as Simon shook off the rain.

“Yeah. I’ll be fine.”

“Go home, get an early night.”

Simon knew he should argue and tell Price he didn’t need special treatment. But he couldn’t. He was too tired.

“You’re right. I’ll head home.”

—

Coming home was particularly hard for him. The silence was deafening; it felt like it was drowning him, just as the memory loss was drowning you. 

As he opened the door to his house, a wave of cold emptiness washed over him. The home that was once filled with laughter and love seemed empty without you there. He missed the familiar sound of your voice as it echoed through the halls, mocking him in its absence while coming back from yet another hospital visit. All of your memories were tainted by your illness; your happiness had been swallowed up by the silence of your lack of speech and his inability to bring you back to yourself. His heart ached as he remembered the woman you'd been before the terrible accident and wished that he could bring back the person you used to be.

To make the atmosphere more bearable, he adopted some strategies that helped to create a better atmosphere in his house. One of them was to keep the TV always on with an old show like Buffy or some other show playing. You’d never go to bed until you had watched at least one episode.

He tossed his clothes onto a chair, the mask on the floor and climbed into bed wearing just his boxer shorts. His body ached from the long day, but it was the throbbing in his head that gave him the most problems. He sighed heavily as he lay down, trying to will away the pain.

The bed creaks and groans as he moves in it.

The sound of the TV fell on deaf ears. He couldn't hear anything but the echo of your voice in his head. It haunted him.

Lying there, he remembered the feeling of being close to you. He could feel your body against his, the curves of your shoulder and hip pressing into him, and the softness of your skin as he traced his fingers down your arm or ran them lightly through your hair. He longed to feel that closeness again, to be enveloped in the scent of you. He missed the sweet smell of your hair filled his nose as he buried his face in your neck.

Your perfume lingers in the sheets, like a ghost clinging to the pillows. 

He reached out and ran his hand along the empty space beside him, imagining that you were there. His heart ached for you, and he felt a lump form in his throat. He couldn't bear the thought of losing you forever. The realisation that he might never have you back brought tears to his eyes, and he struggled to hold them back.

He closed his eyes and let out a deep breath. He couldn't force you to remember, no matter how hard he tried. As he drifted off to sleep, he knew that the only thing he could do was to love you, always and forever, no matter what.

It took some time for him to drift off, and even then, he would wake up. Because there was no escape, he was forced to relive the mission that left him broken every night.

The sound of your crying and screaming, begging for your life.

He heard them every night. He heard them over the gunshots and the sound of grenades. He heard the sounds of your yelling at him to let go of your hand and save himself. Then, the screams went silent. He woke up like every night, drenched in sweat, the sheets wrapped around his legs.

The TV was loud, and Sarah Gellar was battling some vampires. Simon shook his head, wiping the sweat away from his forehead before shutting off the TV.

“Bloody hell...” he muttered.

He ran his hand harshly across his face, desperately trying to erase the image of you being thrown backwards from a powerful explosion and your body lying motionless on the cold ground. He could smell the scent of burnt skin and matted hair. He shivered in horror, reached for the small bottle of whiskey kept on the bedside table, and took a swig directly from the bottle.

It doesn’t help, he told himself; it never does.

The bottle was nearly depleted, having been his faithful companion during the weeks of solitude.

His head was spinning painfully, and his body was cold.

You’re a mess.

He grunted as he stood and stumbled towards the bathroom; the hardwood flooring felt cool against his bare feet.

He opened the cabinet, deliberately not looking into the mirror. His fingers found a bottle of Nembutal, and he grabbed it, his palm slick from the whiskey bottle. He tossed two pills down his throat, hoping for a dreamless sleep.

 —

He jolted awake some hours later to the buzz of his phone and immediately regretted it. A throbbing ache exploded behind his eyes and spread throughout his head and neck. He groggily fumbled for the device, holding it up to his ear without shielding his eyes from the harsh light of morning streaming through the window. 

“Who’s this?” he croaked.

“Mr Riley, it’s Doctor Badel...” The tone in his voice was tired, exasperated. “She’s not cooperating with their prescribed treatment plan.”

The words felt heavy in the air, and the silence that followed was thick with tension. It was as if the entire room was holding its breath.

Simon cursed under his breath, muscles clenching and his jaw tightening. 

“ I’m on my way.”

Tags: @8sy-errah8 @yyiikes @spencerreidisbae123 @oranoyaora @sae1kie

[obeymeshallwedateaddict]

Hello! I was wondering if you would be fine with doing another request based around my last request, where the cast entered another world where MC was the Future King of Devildom?

Context: MC was sucked into a magic portal Solomon made while the cast were together. Before anyone could kill him, MC popped out of the portal, causing everyone to rush towards him in relief, only to be pushed back by a powerful force from MC, who is now wearing an outfit fitted for royalty. After some time, the cast understood that this MC is from another world where he is the next king rather than Diavolo, and understand the switch is temporary, meaning they had to wait it out.

During the time, the cast comes to relax that this MC is far from their compassionate troublemaker they grew to love. Rather, this MC is standoffish, an enforcer of the rules who is not afraid to be violent in order to defend himself. With time, they came to understand that this MC had to behave this way in order to remain alive. Soon, the sharp edge faded away, reminding them of their MC.

When it was time for MC to leave with great reluctance, they ask MC to be not afraid to connect with his people...

Thank you!

Your requests are always so interesting! Omg thank you!! Anyway ignore me getting excited. Enjoy!

Btw it turns out I'm posting this on Solomon's birthday!! So happy birthday to our lovely chef and sorcerer Solomon!!

Male!MC x cast

You can find more of my work here: Masterlist

You can find the other similar request here

MC is the king??? Again???

The room froze in stunned silence when MC emerged from the portal, adorned in an outfit befitting a ruler. The rich fabric gleamed under the light, intricate patterns laced with gold thread, a gleaming circlet resting on his brow. Before anyone could approach him, an unseen force erupted, sending the cast stumbling backward.

"Stay back," the otherworldly MC commanded, his tone clipped and authoritative, eyes cold as a winter's gale.

It didn’t take long for Solomon to piece it together. This MC was not their mischievous friend and confidant but a ruler-in-training from another dimension—one destined to inherit the throne in place of Diavolo. A magical mishap had caused the switch, but Solomon assured them it was temporary. They had no choice but to wait.

From the start, it was clear this MC was vastly different. He carried himself with the weight of someone accustomed to command and distrust. Gone was the easy smile they knew, replaced by a steely gaze that seemed to assess every move. The warmth and mischief they associated with MC were replaced with calculated precision. He enforced the rules mercilessly, and any attempt to test his limits was met with swift and occasionally violent retaliation. Even Mammon learned the hard way when his usual antics earned him a bone-rattling shove.

But as days passed, they began to see the cracks in his armor. This MC wasn’t just cold and unyielding for the sake of it—he had to be. The stories he shared, reluctantly at first, painted a picture of a world far less forgiving than theirs. A place where hesitation meant death and kindness was seen as weakness. The loneliness that flickered in his gaze was achingly familiar, and slowly, the sharp edge dulled.

It started with small things. A faint softening in his expression when Luke baked him a cake. The way he stood a little closer to Beel during meals, seeming comforted by his quiet presence. The flicker of amusement in his eyes when Levi rambled about his latest obsession. Bit by bit, the wall he had built around himself crumbled, and beneath it, they saw glimmers of the MC they loved.

When the time came for him to return to his own world, the cast stood together, reluctant to say goodbye. He was no longer the imposing stranger they had first met.

"Do you really have to go back?" Asmo asked, his voice uncharacteristically small.

MC gave a faint smile—his first genuine one since his arrival. "My people need me."

"Just... don't forget everything you’ve seen here," Mammon said, trying to sound casual, though his voice wavered. "You ain’t gotta do it all alone."

Lucifer stepped forward, his gaze steady. "Remember, strength isn't just in enforcing the rules or keeping people at a distance. It's in building connections. Trusting those who stand beside you."

MC hesitated, his mask slipping for a moment to reveal uncertainty. But then he nodded, resolute. "I’ll try."

As the magic of the portal enveloped him, he looked back one last time, his expression softer than it had ever been. "Thank you... for reminding me."

And then he was gone.

The room felt emptier without him, but they knew their MC would return soon. And when he did, they were determined to remind him how much he was loved, no matter the world.

[ejzah]

Ain’t it a Kick in the Head, Part 18

***

Deeks ignored the pain arcing up his ribs in favor of continuing to kiss Kensi. He probably would regret it later, but in the moment it was a perfect distraction. Pushing the limits of his mobility, he stretched up to get closer.

“Well, bed baths have sure changed a lot since the last time I was in a hospital,” a voice said from behind Kensi. She immediately pulled away as Deeks groaned internally, recognizing the voice.

He saw Kensi’s face was flushed again right before she turned around to face a gray haired man in a suit.

“You have the worst timing,” Deeks told him, adding to Kensi when she frowned in confusion, “Kensi, meet my boss, Lieutenant Bates. Bates this is Special Agent Kensi Blye. My temporary partner from NCIS.”

“Nice to meet you, Sir,” Kensi said formally.

“Uh-huh.” He looked Kensi up and down, clearly assessing, and she shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“No,” Kensi said quickly. “No, I was just—I need to check in with my team leader,” she finished evenly, barely catching Deeks’ eye on her way out.

“So you and the NCIS agent. You certainly now how to pick ‘em, Deeks.”

“You know I go method when I’m undercover,” he said, going for nonchalant. Or as much as he could while in a hospital bed.

“You’ll method yourself right into an early grave,” Bates warned him.

“So, should I be worried you actually came in person?” Deeks wondered. “Or do you need me to sign off on some super important paperwork?”

“I came because the big guys get upset when they hear a detective nearly bled out on company time.”

“I’m touched.”

“Quit being a smart ass. You took down a couple of nasty drug dealers and got us the information to arrest a couple more,” Bates said, and Deeks would have thought he looked almost impressed if he didn’t seem so annoyed. “LAPD commends your dedication. You did good work.”

“Thank you, sir. That appreciation doesn’t come with anything tangible doesn’t it? Say a bonus,” Deeks said.

“Don’t push your luck. You took a risk going in with almost no backup and injured to boot,” Bates said, shaking his head.

“Well, what fun would it be if I didn’t almost die,” Deeks drawled, trying to shift without wincing.

“You’re lucky you didn’t bleed out, you smug idiot. Whenever you get back from this, you’re on desk duty for an extra two weeks. Maybe that’ll shake some sense into you.”

So a slap on the wrist. Deeks hadn’t expected much more. The undercover unit wasn’t exactly bursting with applicants and burnout was high.

“That’s not very appreciative.”

“I never said I appreciated you,” Bates pointed out, though his heart didn’t seem in it. He tapped the end of Deeks’ bed. “Take it east and try not to get killed.”

“Aw, see you do care after all,” Deeks joked.

“You’re a piece of work.” At the door, Bates paused to turn and look at Deeks. “Don’t mess it up with the federal agent.”

[gilverrwrites]

♡ Be respectful when sending anything in, just remember I’m a person, not a search engine or an AI chatbot.

♡ Don’t ever copy, re-post, plagiarize, edit, or translate any of my works.

♡ If you get blocked, you will be blocked forever.

♡ Blocklist: Minors, kink-shaming, cringe-shaming, knowingly using or supporting generative AI, and rude, mean, hateful, or offensive attitudes.

♡ Have never, and will never promise to respond to everything I am sent, it all depends on whether or not it sparks joy and/or inspiration. Nor do I promise to respond to everything in order.

♡ No requesting lengths.

♡ Don't be greedy with requests. If you send in 3, 4, 5+ requests, then my requests will close faster, and that's 3, 4, 5+ people who wouldn't have been able to make a request because there were no spots left.

♡ No requesting "anything for [this character]" give me a plot, a dynamic, a piece of dialogue, something from the prompt tag! Without direction I will flounder.

♡ Try to use 2nd person when sending things in about characters. Character/You not Character/I or Me. Y'know?

♡ If you think you’ll get upset by me not responding to you exactly how you’d envisioned, please just don’t send anything at all.

♡ If you want an anon name, please don’t ask me to name you. Just check my existing list of anons and name yourself something that isn’t on there.

♡ Requests sent while requests are closed, or that break any of my rules or limits will be deleted.

No-Yeses No, except for. ♡ Scat, NO (piss/watersports/omo, yes!) ♡ Bestiality, NO (pet play, yes!) ♡ Pedophelia, NO (age gaps between adults, yes!) ♡ Incest, NO (Mommy or Daddy kinks, yes!) ♡ Extreme gore, NO (Light gore, yes!)

No-Nos: To each their own, but not for me. ♡ Step/Pseudo-cest ♡ Adult babies ♡ Student/teacher ♡ Alpha/omega-verse ♡ Misgendering

Temporary Nos: They'll be back again, but I'm burnt out from writing a lot of the same stuff, and need some variety/self-care right now. ♡ Bat-Fam characters ♡ Dom!Reader ♡ Threesomes/group sex/throuples/group relationships

"So, who can I request?" ♡ Bat or Flash Rogues♡ Green Lanterns♡ Superman Family♡ Flash Family ♡ Arrow Family♡ Marvel Characters Favourites include but are not limited to: Roman Sionis, Harvey Dent, Slade Wilson, Leonard Snart, Axel Walker, Roy Harper, Guy Gardner, & Wally West.

Last updated: 27/04/2025 (UK)

[lets-try-some-writing]

Oooh, okay. How about Halley’s Comet (or some other comet out there) is a baby Titan floating around. And when Earth sees them: Earth: Can we keep them!? Moon: Yes darling! Unicron: No! Why would you- Moon: Earth. Gets. What. She. Wants. Comet Titan: Hello! I like to explore!

Hello yes time for more lore.

Titans ceased to be forged shortly after the fall of the Predacons. No one knows why, but some suspect that the reason is simply because Primus decided there were enough of them. Long lived as they are, Titans are not exactly prolific. But they don't need to be. They serve their purpose until they no longer have the ability. They are, in a sense, a temporary thing to give the rest of Primus's children a safe haven until they can stand on their own pedes.

Halley's Comet broke the long agreed upon understanding that Titans were no longer being forged. She was forged with the last generation of sparklings to emerge from the Well. At the time, she was about the size of a warframe. She grew up alone in the remnants of abandoned cities and starports and saw the ravages of war as she grew larger. The lack of energon made her small. Her systems couldn't support more than a few dozen citizens at most. This upset her a degree, but it instilled in her a desire to seek out somewhere she could serve. She was the size of the Arc, and while not a shabby size at all, she did not match up to even little Pluto. She vaguely sensed that she was too small, but to her young mind, that was alright.

When the Exodus occurred, Halley fled with the rest. There was no use hiding any longer, not when those who would make her a tool were no longer present. She did not know what she was, but she was fine with that. She took to the stars eager to understand herself and explore. What base coding she had told her that there were others like her scattered in the void beyond. As such, she was excited to begin her hunt for her as of yet unknown siblings.

She travelled the stars, pausing only to rest and recover in the orbit of passing stars. She passed by worlds where Titans gave their lives to establish Cybertronian colonies. Some were active and greeted Halley with reverence. Others were long dead. Those ones Halley took time to traverse until she found the shell of her deceased brethren. From the dead she took pieces of their plating to graft into her own. She soon became a living memorial to the glories of times long past. She took pride in her work.

Eventually. she found a Cybertronian starship headed in the direction of Earth. She did not know that at the time, but having explored the surrounding sectors, she decided to tail the ship. She followed from a safe distance and only broke away when she spotted Pluto doing his usual patrol. Their interaction went about as well as expected.

Pluto: YOU! STOP RIGHT THERE!

Halley: Oh! Hello brother!

Pluto: Brother? Wait, are you one of us?

Halley: I am not too sure! But you feel like a brother of mine!

Pluto: *Pluto exe is not working* I need to get Mars. Don't go anywhere little Titan.

Mars: *literally just woke up from a nap* WHAT IS IT-!

Halley: Hello! :D

Mars: ...

Mars: I suppose we have a little sister now.

Halley doesn't stay too long. She still likes to travel. But she stops by when she can. She adores Earth, and Earth loves her in turn. Earth may or may not have quietly adopted her, much to Moon's agitation since he doesn't like sharing more attention than necessary. Halley has continually praised Moon for his choice in partners because of her adoration for the green covered world. Moon is warming up to her slowly.

Quietly, he calls her Daughter of my Beloved and Sister of my Spark.

Halley does not know this, but when she needs a place to rest, Moon will gladly offer the dark side of his frame for her to get some much needed recharge.

[hollandorks]

haven

battinson! bruce wayne x f! reader

chapter four

Summary: After the sudden deaths of your mother and grandmother, you’re forced to return home to Gotham…and to the man who broke your heart three years ago. Back in Bruce Wayne’s inescapable orbit, you vow to get to the bottom of your former best friend’s new cold personality. But Bruce’s secrets aren’t what you’re expecting. a

a/n: had today off work so I wrote two chapters while watching the film for the *checks notes* millionth time. Anyways, in this chapter we get to see why the reader hasn't figured out Batman's identity...and it's because she as one (1) braincell to her name.

Series Masterlist

word count: 2.6k

“No,” he said. He went to walk away, the lines of his body rigid, but paused. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he said over his shoulder. 

She wondered if it was true.

The next morning, y/n woke up to good news in the form of an email from her editor granting her a leave of absence and temporary assignment at the Gotham Tribune. The editor there had been cc’d and asked her to call at her earliest convenience.

Then she saw the small package on her nightstand, delivered by Alfred sometime while she’d slept. Her phone had been returned and his short note told her to check to make sure everything was in order.  

She immediately called the editor of the Gotham Tribune. 

“Jansen,” he said in a gruff voice. 

“Hi, this is y/n, we emailed about my temporary assignment?” She absently spread the articles about Batman across her bed. One of them was a huge picture of some sort of…light signal against the night sky. Her brain turned that picture over while she spoke. It looked like a bat. She almost laughed. Subtle. 

“Oh, right!” She could practically hear the editor, Jansen, sitting up eagerly. “We heard about your attack, but your identity is being protected by Gotham police. What are you proposing? A tell-all?” 

“Well, I’m glad they’re tight-lipped. You heard one of them got away?” A noise of assent. “And a tell-all is only part of it. Part tell-all, part investigative report, part vigilante op-ed. I want to investigate who was murdered and why. I have a hunch that this was…not your run of the mill hit. There were four of them, two victims bound and gagged. And then this bat guy–I assume you know plenty about him–he steps in and tells me to run.” 

Jansen paused for so long she was afraid he would tell her no and hang up. “That’s a lot of work,” he finally said. “But if you do it right…hell of a piece. Front page, at least.” 

“You’re not going to tell me my hunch is made up? Or tell me not to go after the Batman?” She raised her eyebrows. Part of being an investigative journalist was getting the boss to believe in it enough to pursue the story–and part was pursuing it even after being told no. 

Jansen scoffed and said, “Fuck no. My source at GCPD is thinking the same thing about the murders. One suspect may have ties to the Gallo family in New York. All three who were caught lawyered up real quick without a word. And the Batman? Three years this guy has been around, even made national news last year, and you know what I have on him? Squat.” 

Y/n scrambled for a pen and flipped over the picture of the light signal to scribble notes. “Can you get me that source’s name?” She wrote out a note about the Gallo family and underlined it twice. 

“Nope.” He popped his lips on the P. “But I heard that Gordon took a shine to you. Batman’s right hand man.” 

She hummed and wrote another hasty note. “I preemptively asked for an interview but he told me to shove it.” 

“Sounds about right.” 

“Listen–can I work from home? Since the fourth suspect got away, I…don’t really want to be out and about in the city if I don’t have to be.” She would go into the Tribune offices if she had to, though, but working from home would also offer her a lot more freedom with the article. She was concerned about her safety, sure, but really she needed free reign to do what she wanted. 

Jansen chuckled darkly. “I get it. Sure. Send me updates as you get them and weekly summaries of your work. If I come across any leads, I’ll send them your way. Are you in protective custody right now?” 

She glanced around her room and thought about all of the security Wayne Tower offered. “Yes,” she said, and it wasn’t a lie. It just wasn’t the police protecting her. It was the Wayne legacy. 

“Well, be careful. If it is the Gallo family and they’re trying to set up here in Gotham….” He didn’t need to finish the sentence. 

“I will be. I have a lot to research right now anyways. And thanks–this helps me out a lot.” 

Jansen outright laughed this time. “Listen, kid, if you turn out right about any of this–or even manage to get more information about our friendly neighborhood vigilante–it helps me out a lot. I’m not being altruistic here.” 

“Thanks anyway,” she said with her own laugh. She had known as much when he had agreed to the assignment. It was a big thing, and she was willing to tackle it. She knew how the business worked. She could make the paper and its editor look really good if it worked out. “I’ll be in touch.” 

“I’d tell you to be safe, but we both know you investigative types aren’t like that. So I’ll just say this: don’t die before you get me a story.” 

They hung up. 

Y/n immediately opened her laptop and typed up everything she’d learned from the phone call. Then she made a list of research topics: the Gallo family and their potential ties to Gotham, how to get the GCPD to feed her information, the Batman, and a whole lot of other things that may or may not be connected. 

Her eyes fell again on the picture of the light signal–to the bat in its center. 

She chewed her bottom lip as she stared at her phone on the bed. Gordon wouldn’t give her an interview, at least not yet. 

The idea was a flash of lightning. 

Officer Martinez, with his mustache and wide eyed wonder at the home of Bruce Wayne. 

She did a quick internet search but couldn’t find any contact information for him specifically. There was, however, a general call number for the GCPD station he worked at. 

“Hi, I, um, had you guys come out for a robbery not too long ago and this really cute–” She gave a fake giggle, “–officer came to take my report…I’d like to send him an e-giftcard, you know, to say thank you? So if you have an email or something I could use…I promise it isn’t a scam. This is so embarrassing, I’m sorry–” 

The woman on the other end of the call sounded like she mostly just wanted y/n to hurry and hang up. “What’s the name?” she interrupted. 

“Officer Martinez. Cute mustache and–”

“I know the one. Hang on.” The sound of a keyboard clicking filtered through the call. “Here’s his official work email. So no funny business, alright? Or we’ll trace it back to you.” 

Y/n typed the email address in as the woman gave it to her. “Oh thank you so much!” 

Before she even finished hanging up she was writing the email. 

Officer Martinez–

You came to Wayne Tower after I witnessed a murder, and I was just reaching out because you seem trustworthy. I know that one suspect got away and, honestly, I’m afraid. If you have any information you can give me it might help with my peace of mind. Another truth? Lieutenant Gordon intimidates me, so I definitely can’t ask him.

Anything you can give me would really help. 

Feel free to email me–I know giving out any more personal information would be unprofessional and I really respect what you do. I don’t want to get you in any trouble. 

Sincerely, 

Y/n 

She read through it and wondered if she was laying it on too thick. But she knew, the same way she knew this case was big, that Officer Martinez would be a willing source. Even if he didn’t know that that was what he was doing. 

–

Y/n spent the rest of the day in a deep research hole, her eyes aching by the time the sun set. She hadn’t seen Bruce or Alfred either time she’d left in search of food or caffeine. 

She was in the study again, feet bare against the chilly hardwood floors, staring at a spot that looked like faded…white paint? She frowned as she ate her sandwich one-handed. Since when had someone painted on the floors? She tried to make out what it said, but almost all of it was scrubbed away. Maybe it was leftover from the bombing investigation. There was a section of flooring and a window that were much newer than everything else. 

It was late again, nearly one in the morning. Time always passed quickly when she was deep into a story. Her back and eyes hurt, her wrists cramped, and her brain was mush. But she hadn’t thought about her grandmother all day, and the ache in her chest was a little better than it had been the day before.

She leaned against the nearest window. She wanted to go out, but she would be lying if she said she wasn’t still scared. 

She rested her forehead against the window as she finished the last bite of her late dinner. Something bright caught her eye.

The light signal. The one with the giant bat. 

She straightened. What had that article said? A way for the city to call the vigilante when in need? 

She stared at the light. It was cloudy, which made it almost easy to trace the path of the light down, down, down…

She could see the half-built tower in the distance. Wayne Tower had a perfect view of it, in fact. 

A thrill ran through her blood. 

Forget staying in–she needed to get to that light before it was turned off. 

She ran down the hallway, the sound of her footsteps reminding her of a million games of tag, half of which had ended with a sleepy Alfred scolding them for waking him. She slowed her steps automatically. She didn’t want to be caught now, either.  

She grabbed her shoes, jacket, phone, and pepper spray then ran back out again. 

The elevator ride felt like it would never end. She was afraid that she would step outside and the light would be gone. 

But no–when she stepped out to the chagrin of the security, whom she had to remind weren’t there to keep her prisoner–the light was still bright in the sky. 

She held a hand out for a taxi. Thankfully one was passing by. 

Maybe her luck was turning, she thought as she got in. Things had to go right after going wrong so often, right? Especially lately. That was one thing she believed in her life–things would always revert to the mean. A lot of bad meant a lot of good would come to even out the scales. Bruce had broken her heart…then she’d accepted an offer for her dream job in Bludhaven. 

“Where to?” the cabbie asked as he scrolled Instagram with one hand. 

“Um,” she said, smushing her face against the window and trying to estimate the distance. “Can you just take me like ten blocks straight that way?” She pointed.

The cabbie set his phone down and looked at her skeptically. “Whatever you say, lady.” 

The ride was quick, made quicker still by the lack of traffic. She paid and got out, eyes on the sky. The cabbie muttered about crazy rich people as the door shut. 

It was harder now that she was closer, but there was an entire city block nearby that seemed to be under construction. And there were two really tall buildings there, each still only half-finished. 

She jogged down the sidewalk. One hand clenched the pepper spray while the other held her keys between the fingers. It wouldn’t be enough if a murderer wanted to shoot her in the head, but it was all she had. Maybe it was stupid, coming out so late when she was probably the target of a mob hitman. But she couldn’t let it go. 

The block under construction was surrounded by a huge fence topped in barbed wire. The only way in, as far as she could see, was a gate that required a code for entry. She cursed under her breath, the words fogging in the chilly air. 

There was a roar from behind her. 

She whirled and ducked behind a trashcan in the same breath. Her heart stopped as the noise came again. 

Headlights pierced the air and a car sped straight up to the gate. 

Calling it a car was like calling a dinosaur a lizard. It had armor or something on it and an honest to god rocket on the back. It was less of a car and more of a tank. She could see the bones of it underneath, some type of semi-familiar sports car. Bruce would love a car like that, she thought. He loved adding ridiculous modifications to cars. 

She shoved away the thoughts of Bruce and quickly took out her phone to take a couple of pictures, just in case. She’d left her actual camera in her room and silently cursed herself for it. 

The gate slid open and the car sped through. The gates started to slide closed almost immediately. 

This was her chance. The signal light was still on for the moment and she doubted many other cars would drive into a construction zone at nearly two in the morning. 

She ran through the closing gates. 

They clanged shut behind her a second later. 

Okay, now what? she wondered, glancing around. One of the tallest towers was to the left, another one to the right. Now that she was almost directly below them, it was nearly impossible to tell where the light was coming from without circling the whole block. It looked like it was coming directly from the spot where she stood, but she knew it was only because it was coming from somewhere close. 

She chewed her lip and glanced around more carefully. And–there. That weird tank of a car was parked beneath the tower to the right. She heard soft clanking and then a caged elevator started to lift on the outside of the building. 

Bingo. 

She ran over, wishing she had more skills suited for being a secret agent. Her footsteps were anything but silent and her breath gasped through her teeth as she ran. She kept to the shadows as best she could, which was made easier by the lack of lights on the whole site. But if there was anyone else around, she wasn’t being that stealthy. 

She looked up. 

The light switched off right as the noises of the elevator faded. 

Double bingo. 

The elevator was descending, empty now. 

There was another car, too, half-hidden. 

An unmarked police car. 

She took a picture of that for good measure. She knew for sure now that she was on the right track.  

That fire was back within her. She was so close to finding out if her hunch had been correct. She was close to…well, something. She knew it. 

She went to the elevator and stepped inside. One button, and she was headed to the top. 

Her palms were sweating. The long ride up gave her time to think, which was bad. She had fucked up. She realized that now, but hitting the button to go back down did absolutely nothing. She really should have thought things through more. 

She had no idea what–or who–was at the top of the building. She had no idea if the Batman was actually a nice guy or not. He could very well take one look at her and toss her off the edge. Her mind spun with possibilities, including her death being ruled suicide, the trauma of the deaths of her family too much. 

Or what if the murderer who’d gotten away had lured Batman up there? Or what if they were in cahoots? What if that editor, Jansen, was in on it too? 

She really, really should have thought this through a bit more. 

The doors opened with a noise so loud she winced. 

When she looked up, she was face to face with a gun.

Next Chapter

taglist:

@ktficworld @grunge-n-roses5 @anon-cat-posts @projectdreamwalker @slovakshadow @warsaur @lachillona02 @crazyunsexycool @doetic @alexiris @that-girl-named-alex @harry-bowie-mercury @vaniasagitaa