#god. god. I know everyone talks abt it but something abt the way these two died in the first day of high school

[thistle-caster]

latching onto the way that kristen tells gorgug that she died again and one of the first things gorgug says is “I’m sorry I wasn’t there”

their friendship means sm to me I am eating drywall as we speak /j

[kavehater]

I mean this from a social perspective not a health one : why does everything feel weird right now. Like yes I’m heartbroken about the reality of my position in the lives of my so called friends but now I just feel confused. I don’t understand why I’m not important and why I can’t change to be important to others, nor what makes a person important either.

[mingoooossii]

Little things you do that makes ATEEZ feel soft.

Ateez!maknae line x reader

Warnings: fluff and just the boys being whipped <33

A/n: i kinda let this marinate in my head but I think it's been too long. Also the song, not inspired but I was listening to it while making this.

Hyung line. Ateez masterlist. Masterlists.

San.

Tugging his sleeve.

• ok so, ik this is a bit confusing but hear me out.

• this is a thing you do often, grabbing his sleeve for a sense of comfort, to get him to come with you to somewhere

• or simply just...to get his attention.

• for you it's a habit that brings you a sense of familiarity and security that is so comforting.

• you don't even notice it when you do it, it just feels so natural.

• but for him? He never felt so soft before.

• he knew this was a sort of comfort to you and was glad that he could provide it to you.

• and god, you were so adorable.

• that cute expression you wear when you seek for him and that small smile that find its way to your lips when you find him?

• *internal screeching*

• dies a little inside everytime you do it and the next thing you know, he's pulling you into a bear hug.

"Damn it! Why are you so cute?!"

"???"

• good luck trying to escape him now.

Mingi.

Covering him when he's about to bump into something.

• as we all know this man can get quite clumsy.

• so it is not uncommon that he bumps into stuff, especially the kitchen counter corners, and gets bruises.

• he doesn't even notice it most of the time.

• you, however, do notice it and gets worried.

• you tried to tell him before but to no avail, he never even noticed.

• so you made it your mission instead. Covering the sharp corners with your hand whenever he was about to bump into it.

• you did it so often that it was almost instinctive now.

• he, however, took a while to notice this

• and when he did, he was so touched 😭

• he felt like those female leads from those kdramas

• he felt so so special like-

• and now, he sometimes does it intentionally to see if you'd react the same way.

• and gets giddy when you do. (Imagine him giggling with his crescent eye smile 😭 I'm gonna cry-)

"I have something to confess. I'm in love with you."

"... Mingi, we're literally dating."

"I know and I love you."

Wooyoung.

Listening to him.

• this isn't new information but he loved to talk.

• it just comes naturally to him, wanting to share anything that makes him happy.

• now, he knew that not everyone might like this habit of his but it didn't really matter to him.

• not when you looked at him like he put the stars in the sky.

• And you weren't the most extroverted person.

• it just... wasn't your thing so you appreciated him doing all the expressing for you.

• now, he knew you genuinely liked to listen to him (even if it's something random, you'd still listen to it like it's the most interesting thing)

• but he was curious. Why exactly did you like it so much?

• he asked you this one day and you responded,

• "You look happy when you talk, so i wanted to listen because it makes me happy too."

• ...he swore, he just fell deeper in love with you.

"I'm gonna marry you."

"...?!"

Jongho.

Giving him little gifts.

• more specifically, hand-made gifts

• you were big on crafting

• knitting, origami, bead making whatever it is, you loved doing it

• and you also love giving it to him. Whenever you two hang out, you always had something to give him

• and he loved it.

• Even though he pretends to complain abt it at times

• you had often found him staring at your little creations with a soft smile

• though he had always denied it whenever you tried to confront him

• you know that he truly appreciates it

• to him, these were little tokens of your love and that is enough to melt him

• he always has one of your little gifts on him like a charm (because it makes him feel like he's with you even when you two were apart)

• he's also kind of protective over it

• never lets any of the members touch any of the charms (que the members teasing him for it) but he doesn't really care

• he loves you so that's all that matters

"... It's been...a while."

"Admit you love it, then I'll make you another one."

"...I don't know what you're talking about."

[wonderwomanfantasy]

okay but imagine a jealous Miguel who's been absolutely obsessed with you but was to scared to say anything. One day he comes over to your house to tell you how he feels about you but he notices you're wearing an old hoodie from your ex(who you obviously don't care about because you've been madly in love with mig) and he just goes feral and rips it off you, he says sm nasty possessive shit while he fucks you in full nelson✋ I'm sorry I've just had brain rot over this man and saw your asks abt him

oh baby I'm obsessed. this is nasty so it's going under the cut ^^

Miguel is 100% the type of guy who will refuse to admit he has feelings for you while everyone else knows. Yeah, he brings you coffee almost every morning, it is not to see you smile he just uh… made extra? He likes it when you rely on him, he likes being your hero even if he’s just buying you pads. He’s touchy too, when he passes behind you he puts his hand on your lower back even if he has plenty of room, or wraps his arm around your waist while the two of you are in a crowded place together so he doesn’t lose you. God speaking of crowded places if the two of you are ever in a loud place trying to talk he’ll lean in close so he can hear you speak and if his proximity makes you flustered, all the better.

 Miguel knows deep in his heart that it’s wrong how jealous gets, and realistically if you two were just dating he’d be able to just chill the fuck out but since you aren’t he can’t help but worry that someone else will catch your eye while he’s busy working out how he feels for you and wondering if he’s selfish enough to pull you into his dangerous world like that. The realization that you’re already in too deep makes his stomach churn. Even if you’re not dating you’re easily the person he’s closest to, everyone in the multiverse knows about his weak spot for you… if there's danger you’re already in it, if he really loved you he wouldn’t just keep you at arm's length, he’d cut you out of his life completely.

It’s a surprise when Miguel stops by. You’ve told him a thousand times that your home is open to him anytime but he always at least calls beforehand. Not this time. You can tell right away that something is off, he doesn’t hug you when he comes in and he’s got this weird look on his face like something eating at him but he won’t say what's up.

Miguel really did come over with intentions to tell you that he can’t spend time with you anymore, that it was too risky and too painful… then he sees the goddamn hoodie you’re wearing. And he recognizes it. He knows in that moment that he isn’t going to leave you, he isn’t going to let you go and let some other man have you. You are his, in this universe and in every other. 

“Is that your ex’s?” you’re a little tripped up by the suddenness of the question, and before you can answer it he’s looming over you, one of his clawed fingers hooked in the collar of the garment.

“Are you thinking about him again or what?” Miguel demands of you and really he doesn’t even care to hear the answer. “I could treat you better, why don’t you fill your pretty little head with thoughts of only me?” as if at that moment you could think of anything else. Not with his pretty eyes looking at you like that. Not with his big sharp fangs biting and ripping your clothes off of you. All you can think about is him. 

You’ve never been scared of Miguel, not the way other people were, but at that moment when you see the hungry look in his eyes all you can think is “god he’s going to eat me alive” and it sends a shiver down your spine. 

He carries you like you weigh nothing to him. And honestly, you’ve seen this man bench press a minivan, you probably don’t weigh anything to him. Miguel holds you in front of a mirror and makes you watch as he presses his big dick into you and uses your body like a fleshlight.

“See that? See how good you take me?” he whispers into your ear “You’re mine now, no one else gets to fuck you, no one else gets to hear the sweet noises you make, just me.” he says while bitting your neck

He has your legs over his arms and he really is just bouncing you up and down on his dick, he pushes your head down and makes you watch as he pushes into you for the first time before he pulls your head back to look at yourself in the mirror. 

“Wanted to fuck you like this for so long, now that I’ve got you here I don’t think I’m ever going to stop,”

And he doesn’t stop. Not until a mix of his cum and yours is dripping down his thighs and your legs are twitching. When he finally pulls out he scolds you for not keeping his cum inside of you and pushes the mess back into you with his fingers. 

He asks if you feel empty without him nine inches deep in you (you do) he asks if any other cock could ever make you feel full again (not likely) he asks if you’ll forgive him for being so rough with you, and if you’ll let him do it again.

[sitkainsnow]

Desperately need a fic from a police officer’s pov and they watch SuperBat interactions bc like all the cops either hate or love Bats, but are still kinda terrified of him, but ofc Supes is all sunshine and smiles and “He’s my best friend y’all!” And they KNOW bats probably totally has kryptonite and an attitude worse than the devil.

So they end up in a situation where they’re working together and Batman in taking with the police and Superman’s standing behind him waving and smiling at everyone while Batman is giving single-word or just huffs for answers. And then Superman freezes and cocks his head and to everyone’s surprise grabs Batman by the shoulder and whispers something in his ear and then what’s more surprising is Batman doesn’t even mind as he wraps his own arm around Supes and then they’re gone in a blur of blue and Black. All the cops are just left standing there like 🧍‍♂️shocked bc Bats didn’t mind Supes touching him.

Or another instance where it’s after this big battle in Gotham and it’s with whatever villain but Superman is there too and the villain had kryptonite. Anyways so after the battle Bats is talking to the police and handing over the villain and Superman comes over after talking to the civilians, picks Bats up by the scruff mid sentence politely nods to the officers he was talking too, and moves him a couple feet away and just starts yelling at Bats abt how stupid it is for him to run around jumping in the way of heavy blows EVEN if they have kryptonite and Bats just scoffs and turns his head away and all the police on the area watch as Superman and Batman argue about how stupid it is to risk your life to save the other (they both did it) completely oblivious to their audience and the police whose POV it’s in just thinks “god they sound like a married couple. Wouldn’t it be crazy if the two of the worlds greatest hero’s were actually a couple lmao. But that’s crazy they’re just really good friends”

Gordon watched all this trying not to blow his fuse bc yes, Batman does need to be yelled at, and yes, he does need to prioritize his safety more, but NO, you don’t need to be having your lovers quarrel in front of the whole damn GCPD.

Or in another instance Batman racks up a bunch of charges on him for whatever reason and the GCPD by luck manages to arrest him and so here comes Superman trying to bail his partner(in more ways than one) out of prison and the police are like “we’re really sorry Mr. Superman sir but we can’t legally do that” and Supes goes “what the hell did he even do” and so the officer goes “Property Damage, unlawful violence, arson, punched a cop in the face and broke his nose, caught carrying weed which is illegal in the state of New Jersey, multiple -and I mean multiple- unpaid speeding tickets. Oh, and the DMV wanted us to talk to him about his unregistered Batmobile and Batbike.”and Supes is about to cry as he quietly asks “Okay, so how much is bail” And the officer looks away and mumbled “sixteen grand” and Supes gasps and cries out “I don’t get paid enough for sixteen grand!!”

However thirty minutes later Supes is back at the GCPD station shakily counting out bills bc he can’t use a check or card (obvi) sweating heavily and looking extremely pained. The cops don’t even ask where he got all those bills so quickly and just watch him and another 30minutes later Bats is out and Supes is shaking him by his shoulder shouting “so who’s gonna lag me back!! Who’s gonna reimburse me for for 16k?? Whose gonna apologize for the heart palpitations you gave me?? Whose gonna apologize for all the gray hairs this is going to give me?? You’re giving me gray hairs all the time B!! I can’t do this!!” And Batman just sighs and pats Superman on the back as they walk out of the station and Superman is mumbling about bank credit and loans and how bad he looks with wrinkle lines and gray hair sounding like he’s about to cry.

Meanwhile the police try not to loose their minds throughout this whole interaction and Gordon’s just staring at the door blankly smoking a cigar and the police whose POV it’s in looks at the cigar a little bit closer and goes “That smells like weed” and Gordon looks at her and just says “I feel for Superman a bit more than I want to”

[tyunn1ngz]

hueningkai nsfw alphabet

cw: gn!reader i think ? to the best of my ability anyways and no gender is stated regardless

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

total softie!!!!!!:( wants to be held and wants to hold u and its just oh-so delicate and tender just two lovers in ur own little safety bubble— giggles w hushed pinky promises that u will meet in ur dreams that night

b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

on himself his lips and his fingers— his lips on urs, his fingers in u; his fingers in ur mouth, he’s obsessed w it all, he likes it so much

on u ur thighs and tummy!!! marking u up all over and squishing the skin under his fingertips, rubbing over ur tummy when hes inside u just to watch u squirm and gasp .. ( ；∀；)

c = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

his cock gets so wet when hes hard n he cums a lot its so cute really especially cuz he’d get so shy abt it <3

d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

gets off to ur voice sometimes— like listens back to voice notes u’ll send him even if all u r doing is talking abt ur day and gets himself so hard out of nowhere he loves hearing u

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

a big virgin w no idea what hes doing before u but thats ok!!!!! thats what practice is all abt !!!!!!! more fun for u especially bc hes such an eager learner <3

f = favourite position (this goes without saying)

spooning or riding — spooning is so intimate and he can feel up ur thighs and tummy so nicely that way, or dip his hands to bring u more pleasure to ur sex; and u riding him means u can take the reins and he’s very into that! use him to get urself off honey!

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

silly for the most part, its more relaxing and comforting that way, sex isn’t some performance between u two. but sometimes it feels like his brain just melts and pours out his ears so thats when it’ll seem more serious, bc u’ll have just a soft big eager puppy on ur hands then :<

h = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

for my own personal bias. No shaving. all his body hair in tact. everyone listen to me bc that is SEXY. his happy trail ohhgod

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

very intimate, has to be touching u at all times it’d be like chopping a limb off if u told him he wasnt allowed to touch u. loves rubbing his cheeks against urs idk thats just a thing in my head

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

cracks knuckles what do u guys know abt PLUSHIE HUMPER kai who steals sprays of ur perfume or lets u cuddle a specific one so it’ll smell like u when he fucks it later and cries ur name softly … what do u KNOW!!!!!!!!!!!!

k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

nipple play. make this boy cum from just playing w his nipples i swear to god. and when hes more on the dominant sides of things definitely dacryphilia imo

l = location (favorite places to do the do)

just the bedroom !!! but maybe a quickie in the bathroom at a party could be up his alley too whos the say ;p

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

watching u get changed or get ready in general, defo also gets so hard when u do smth as simple as sit in his lap and move a little too much hes just too easy !!!!!!!!!!

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

nothing too rough and violent, and not heavy on the degradation either. just a tiny bit sometimes but hes more abt praise!! dont b too mean to him he’ll get stuck in his head :( not too fond of too much degradation towards u for this reason too! just a little if its what ur into but he prefers being nice to u its just in his nature no matter how bratty u get w him </3

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

a giver, bc it means he can make u feel good and also be between ur thighs which make for great earmuffs! not very good at it sometimes but his eagerness makes up for it!!!! other times he’s absolutely expert w his tongue its insane

he does love receiving tho!!!!! as much as he won’t admit it bc he thinks it’ll make him selfish for some reason Σ('◉⌓◉’) loves when u take him especially deep— rly makes his thighs shake and u have to keep ur hands on his hips to keep him from practically fucking ur throat >_>

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

gentle but kinda fast ? he gets so desperate and pathetic that he needs it to be faster but he can’t hurt u so he’s gentle by nature. he’ll get a lil rougher when he’s closer to cumming tho or if u rly push for it<3

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

don’t happen often but when they do they’re the hottest thing in the world. he either goes so dumb hes basically melted into ur arms and pleading, almost in tears or! he’s finally treating u like u won’t break and just taking what he wants, whispering how good u feel and how a little part of him wants someone to walk in and see u breaking in his hold :3c

r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

a little! nothing crazy but if theres a more tame fantasy u wanna try he’d defo be down, and he’s happy to tell u his own fantasies, even if his face burns up w embarrassment w every word. not too fond on risks, not big ones anyway but little thrills r always fun!!!! ฅ/ᐠ. ̫ .ᐟ\ฅ

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

doesnt last long the first round especially but he’ll go as many rounds as u want. obsessed w how u feel when u cum on his cock so if u orgasm once and its not w him inside u ur gonna be going again and even then it might not be enough he’ll be overstimulating the both of u to the heavens— just be aware of that !

t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

lowk vibrator obsession, loves watching u use it, loves using it on himself, loves using it on u, u using it on him— u both using at the same time, pressed up against either side of it and crying into each others mouths .. could also see him loving the idea of having a fleshlight. Gulps. ＿|￣|○

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

teases u a lot when hes in charge just to see ur glassy eyes and pretty lips form a pout, but hes pretty hypocritical bc he doesnt like to be teased and he’ll get so pathetic when u do .. sigh

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

louder when hes closer to cumming, whimpers and gaspy moans that grow louder and higher in pitch the closer he gets, probably likes to stuff his face in a pillow or plushie to keep himself quiet bc he gets so embarrassed but he sounds so pretty :((((

w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

never really puts u in ur place when u act bratty but one time he just snaps and ur legs were trembling for a good two days after; good thing he was back to his little angelic self and carried u everywhere

x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

big hes hung asf. personally im a little more interested in the 50 pounds of ass he carries around but ig his cock is also important in this category

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

HIGH! .. once he gets a taste of sex— of you, he is insatiable woooo boy

z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

hes not conking out until ur asleep first!!!!!!! so however long ur awake for after all is done, he’s up too!!!! no matter how hard his eyelids try to droop closed ok and if ur not sleepy hes not either (he is but just keep talking ok he’ll keep fighting it off)

[beescake]

PLEASE PLEASE MEGADUMP THE ARASOL!!! PLEAAASEE MR BEESCAKE I AM ON MY KNEES BEGGING YOU

HFHGHD GLADLY aaa i’ve been adding notes to it here and there for months but just hesitant to post it bcs im 🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂

also this is just my own takeaway of the events, it doesn’t necessarily comply to the Ultimate Truth of Canon-Alignment or represent the actual facts of what hussie intended! v sentimental smh but hopefully its still interesting to read

i love when characters inform each other by proximity, it's one of my fave things to see in media :') it feels even more significant when two characters deliberately choose to stick together, so that when one operates, you can tell the other is similarly aligned in associative solidarity.

sollux is a keystone of this trope — whoever he aligns with is a wordless statement, a nod of approval. this stood out to me bcs the main four humans were alr friends by default, but once you reach hivebent you realize the trolls can actively choose who they want to hang out with.

and as we all know, after assessing every troll's biases/loyalties, sollux is the only one who maintains his selective preference for innately Good 👍 people.

aradia is such a beautiful character honestly, she evokes such incredible feelings in me. she might not have been consistently written with care but the best parts of her character are truly stunning. i think it's easy to remember sollux as the self-sacrificing one bc he's so open about it (and his friends frequently react to his Moments) but when you compare him to aradia, it's always struck me

how much more. raw it is

to be so alone as an agent of time, having to orchestrate immeasurably harrowing events nobody understands or gives a fuck about

with your role painted in the story as one who must tend to the needs of the narrative, responsible to match every next note

because when you're given the capabilities, it becomes your duty to carry it out.

it becomes expected of you to keep experimenting and arranging the machinations to work for everyone, dusting off hundreds of necessary failures to keep going

and having to be so unwavering in your drive knowing miserably that there's no one who can help you but yourself.

or alternatively: to make things fun! so other people won't think twice about letting you go off on your own.

sure she's had some very good buds, notably thanks to Team Charge v Team Scourge antics.

and yet, at the end of the day, the one friend that kept choosing her time and time again was the friend with the highest standards.

i can see why people like to define arasol as moirails/matesprits but surprisingly i find the nondescript, unlabeled aspect of their relationship more straightforward to understand.

there's no shortage of people who would accommodate sollux. most of the surviving trolls are his oldest friends bcs he’d chosen them well. his transparency with his feelings had built him strong friendships that won’t falter or break, regardless of how much of a dick he can be. they’ve already seen and accepted him at his worst, and they still like him for who he is.

contrast that with aradia, who'd been so approachable, friendly and reliable in her exchanges it was super fun to talk to her. but the moment she became depressed, all her connections broke down.

her friends became hesitant to interact with her (until she became god tier, “happy” and amicable again) because her gloom and resignation didn’t serve them. she dealt with it alone.

there’s def something of note here abt the disparity between the way male & female characters are written+perceived in homestuck (esp parallel arasol with davejade) but i won’t go into that lmaoo

with this in mind i like to think of sollux as a gift to her, a loyal companion given to complement and commend her resolve. she's capable of doing so much alone but hussie took the time to build her and sollux's relationship as one of a unit; a set.

the ambiguity of their status does complicate things, but i do believe it makes sense with their characters. aradia's relationship with romance is a rocky one, the dubious stringalong equius had with her is a pointed reminder that her feelings of attraction are ultimately controlled by the author writing her.

unlike the other trolls who can openly address and own up to their crushes, aradia had romantic emotions forced upon her (especially when hussie implies 'she kissed equius back on her own volition'). and it seems like her character is so intrinsically neutral abt attraction that even when forced by the almighty powers above, she's unable to retain it wholly.

however, looking back to pre-game when she could actually "choose" her own feelings, she did have a crush on sollux.

their soft spots for each other were so obvious to the point where other people could see it.

taunting aside, when vriska comments on their unit as bf/gf it actually informs the audience that arasol's relationship is romantic in nature despite not aligning with the quadrant system.

even while dead, aradia could still describe her care for sollux, expressing that she would like to see him happy. if they had more time to explore their relationship on alternia, it's possible they could've settled in a quadrant once they grew older.

but going back to the lack of labels, their dynamic was affected once more when aradia became god tier.

to me, her ascension was both the perfect culmination and possible closure of her character. it's the light at the end of her journey toiling through countless of timelines where she had to actively assess and participate. that's why it's cool to see her being silly and having fun giving guidance, passively exploring and watching other people do their parts.

and yet the joy of her freedom makes it hard to explore further introspection. if we take her by her word, she'd already come to terms with the hurt she's been through and forgiven those involved.

i can't help feeling attuned to how impersonal and detached it can be, to devote and meld your identity so completely with your designated position as Maid of Time until you've become hard for your old friends (and even some readers!) to personally connect to.

idk post-canon but i assume there’s some degree of similarity to be bridged here with aradia's god tier and how the hs2 humans' Ultimate forms was described as a consolidation of all their possibilities. since aradia's classpect is inherently of service to Time, going god-tier may have elevated her beyond personhood with the "game construct" possessing her entirely. sollux doesn't realize the extent of it bcs he's still mortal, but a part of him may have subconsciously understood this.

i think there is a core aspect to aradia that was lost to the dehumanizing glory of god tier — a core aspect that may have contained an element of why sollux enjoyed talking to her in the first place.

to him, aradia hadn't just been a nice girl, she was a cool girl. despite not having much in common, he's still willing to chill next to her so she's not alone while she does what needs to get done.

back on alternia, they held a mutual and equal-level regard for each other that could've definitely settled into something permanent. but now, he's placed himself in a position where he can be kept around or left behind at will. the parameters of the relationship are largely in aradia's court, so any label she suggests to identify their relationship with he's likely to accept.

but that's why it's so difficult to label it. because god tier aradia may not necessarily Want quadrants or relationship labels. rather than the initial romantic attachment, their commitment to each other had evolved into one fundamentally of companionship.

no label? ok fine. no matter what, he still thinks she's a good soul worth latching on to. the best, actually. aradia > everyone else.

even if it gets stilted at times. there's an unexpected struggle to connect when sollux's go-to default for talking points is his feelings about things, and aradia may not want to talk about emotions all the time.

not to mention god tier aradia became an observer, especially of chaos. but sollux's avoidance of involvement comes partially from his innate pressure to get involved if something goes wrong. and he can't always tell when something goes wrong, because aradia doesn't mind if things go wrong anymore.

it's a non-negotiable preference that causes them to take the occasional time apart, a new boundary that wouldn't have existed before the game and aradia's god tier.

but just like how his friends tolerated his moods, sollux accepts aradia as she is. with no quadrants, their connection doesn't break down because there's no implicit romantic expectations to be disappointed by or resentful over.

sometimes when i see hs content that deliberately distances sollux from aradia, i assume this is the dissonance people might have felt. people might find it "easier" to be cynical about them bcs of this strange tension.

but idc lmao. grab that shit by the neck

lack of easy resolutions and cleanly tied ribbons is pretty standard of homestuck and imo it doesn't make arasol's dynamic any less incredible. with the right affection and consideration, there's still so much potential to develop the nuance of their relationship outside of the popular quadrant-based depictions.

hs has a lot of really great character compatibilities but the way aradia and sollux are in their own special orbit is why i can write this much about them in the first place. it's that frail innocence between first loves that makes it so sweet to me, two kids who grew up too fast playing guesswork without being clear where they're going.

ultimately i do think you're meant to feel a little tragedy for just how much they care for each other, even if they can't quite establish it in simple terms.

maybe they keep taking breaks to progress their own paths. maybe they remain as anchor partners while seeing other people. but even if you decide to separate them, they're still (awkwardly) texting each other updates all the while. and when they reunite it feels like coming home.

and well. more than anything, i like to believe that they do want to be exclusive.

they're just afraid. after all, they're still learning how to love, beyond the projections of the foursquare quadrant system they had inadvertently distanced themselves from since young.

they might not have everything figured out, but they'll get there eventually if you just hold them together and write them there.

optional post-canon segment:

one of the limitations of main hs is that (monogamous) relationships are often written as the go-to solution to wrap up character growth; it's an easy "patch" to imagine characters getting their happy ending because they have a partner, and those who don't end up with someone don't get that closure (most notably jade).

hs2 reaffirms this by suggesting that aradia's character cannot progress without letting sollux go, because happily settling in a relationship automatically locks your potential.

that pathetic panel of sollux staring emptily into the sky is still my fave hs2 spoiler ngl i find the impact of their parting so emotionally provoking precisely bcs they were written in original hs to be each other's forever, coming back together again and again

but now, they're subject to the decisions of the post-canon authors who might choose to deviate from that.

it's not new for them to part, but now there's an underlying worry that her dropping him off this time might be the last time. while i think the prospect of shattering their stability to make them grow separately sounds fun on paper, no amount of me desperately hoping for a good execution is gonna guarantee it

idk. i guess prediction-wise im expecting sollux in classic dramatic-hs2 fashion to tell dave to back off aradia LMAO. otherwise it's just gon be sollux and karkat pathetically watching aradia and dave from a distance swimming in their unresolved feelings for narratively-powerful time players smh obvs it sounds corny as hell but who knows its still plausible

srsly tho i hope they take the opportunity to develop arasol's relationship in a fresh direction that doesn't hurt me too badly...... and i hope they force sollux out of his comfort zone. i like watching him struggle :-)

[whore4abby]

heyyyy vannyyyyyy i love u sm i promise i'm not being a lurker

what abt model reader and abby at like a designers party (yk the devil wears prada 👀)

i'm too obsessed with everything u write is there like a support group or something for whore4abby addicts

ferny fern ur brain !! this idea is so yummy 😵‍💫 i love u MORE !! thank u for this hope u don’t mind me switching it up a lil mwah mwah !! NO ONE would join that damn support group bffr wrote this at 3am let’s not talk abt it

high fashion;

kinda a part two of this !!

warnings; smut - sex in a public bathroom, strap-on usage (r!receiving), choking (with abby’s tie), mdni

wc; 1.7k

“abs…c’mon, baby…we gotta leave in a few minutes.” you call out to your wife who’s spent the last 30 minutes making sure she looks absolutely perfect, not one hair out of place in her braid, making sure her new tux was absolutely spotless.

“i’m coming, doll…gimme a minute.” she calls out softly and you laugh and roll your eyes playfully at her antics. the ongoing joke that she spends way more time getting ready than you do slowly but surely starting to become a reality.

you smooth out the fabric of your almost sheer, black satin dress and slip on your jimmy choo heels, grabbing your purse from the dresser before looking up just as abby walks out from the bathroom. you swear you feel your eyes turn into little heart shapes as you see her.

she looks nothing short of absolutely perfect in her sleek, tailored black tux paired with her shiny black dress shoes, her muscular forearms filling out the sleeves of her suit jacket and her long hair slicked back from her face. you're absolutely smitten as you rush over to press your lips against hers repeatedly, “god, you’re so pretty…” you sigh, words coming out as a breathless whisper as you press your face against her chest, closing your eyes and breathing in her familiar scent.

before you know it you’re gathered in a spacious studio for a small, intimate gathering of some couture designers to showcase their new up-coming works. you’re surrounded by mannequins displaying gorgeous designer clothes, along with an assortment of clothes scattered around the room, from elegant ballgowns to sophisticated suit jackets.

the windows are covered in velvet drapes, allowing a small amount of natural moonlight to flood the room. everyone whispering discreetly amongst themselves, scanning the surroundings and taking in all the lavish clothing and glittering accessories.

you wander off away from abby for a little while, you’re quietly minding your own business checking out some artist sketches that are carefully hung up on the wall when you feel a presence beside you. “beautiful aren’t they?” a heavily accented voice causes you to look away from the framed pictures and you turn your head to see a familiar italian designer.

“yeah…they’re gorgeous! are they for the new spring-summer collection?” you query, you head tilting curiously in his direction. “yes, that’s correct…these pieces should be out within the next couple of months.” he smirks and leans in closer to you.

“i was actually just thinking about you.” he places a hand on your shoulder and you resist the urge to shudder in disgust. “oh, please…i’m not that special.” you force a stiff laugh and shake your head, after all this time you still find it hard to believe that you have become a well-known, household named model.

“im serious! i saw you at that runway show a couple weeks ago…and let me say, it’s been driving me crazy ever since. ive been dying to get in contact with you-“ he chuckles, his gaze drifting down towards you body. he takes your hand in his, a cunning smile spreading wide as he leans in to kiss your cheek. you shake his hand curtly before pulling your hand back and jerking your face away from him.

he continues to flirt with you, his eyes finding yours and locking onto them. “perhaps you’d be interesting in catching a drink tonight?” he looks down at your shoulder and casually caresses it with his hand. “my hotel is just a couple blocks away, and i know you’re staying in the city the whole weekend. so whatdya say?”

you start purposely clinking your perfectly polished wedding ring against your half empty champagne glass, hoping he gets the hint. “i’ll actually be busy with my wife….in our own hotel room, thank you very much.”

you catch a glimpse of abby across the room, she instantly feels a pang of jealousy as she watches him openly flirt with her girl practically right in front of her face.

her brow begins to furrow and she discreetly ends the conversation she’s having and makes her way over to you, she obviously saw the guy kiss you, and she’s clearly not happy about it.

you watch his smile falter a little at the mention of your wife, and he directs his gaze towards abby as she approaches, obviously intimidated by her height and stature. “everything okay, my love?” she asks, her eyes still watching the designer. you lean in to kiss her briefly before pulling away and nodding, wrapping your arm around her bicep.

he finally gets the hint and laughs, taking a step or two back. “hmm, well isn’t that a shame?” he says with a grin. he turns to walk away, before stopping and turning back to face you. “well if you ever want to get in touch, here’s my card.” he holds out a small business card with his details on it and smiles at you, abby quickly pushes his hand away and speaks in a passive-aggressive manner, “my wife and i won’t be needing that, thank you.”

he laughs cockily, obviously slightly amused before turning on his heel and walking off to probably shamelessly flirt with another married woman.

abby leans into you, resting her head against yours, taking the champagne flute out of your hand and placing it on a nearby silver side-table. her eyes still watching the designer as he saunters away. “i don’t like how he was looking at you, darling.”

you roll your eyes at her comment, giggling slightly. “babe, calm down,” you say, squeezing her hand. you look over at her and smirk at her. “but you’re really the only one who i’ve got my eyes on, okay?”

“you’re mine…all fuckin mine~” her voice is rough, and she still can’t shake her jealousy from that designer looking at you. abby leans in and kisses you on the neck, her lips gently sucking and nibbling at the sensitive skin.

abby smiles wickedly at you, before grabbing you by the hand and quickly dragging you to the back of the boutique. you find yourself in a fancy, private bathroom and abby quickly locks the door behind you. she pulls you in for a heated kiss and you can feel her firm body pressing against yours.

abby’s tongue gently plays against yours, her hands caressing your face and your body, slowly pulling you closer to her. she bites down on your bottom lip slightly, but not hard enough to hurt you.

she pulls away for a second before diving back in, kissing you passionately and with more force than before. “all mine~” she whispers in your ear, her breath hot on your neck, her fingers finding their way down to hike your dress up over you ass, bending you over in the sink counter.

you hear the zipper of her pants being yanked down and the rusting of her shirt being untucked before she pulls your panties off your body and discards them onto the floor before nudging your legs apart with her knee.

you whine as she swipes the tip of the strap-on through your sticky folds, gathering up your slick before pressing the head of the dildo against your slit. “say it…tell me who's the only one who gets you this wet~” she pushes in slowly, groaning at the sight of your pussy greedily taking her cock. “you, abs…fuucck- only you!”

she thrusts herself fully inside without warning, all seven inches of black silicone right up to the hilt making you cry out, feeling every vein and ridge flush against the walls of your cunt. the stinging stretch causing your face to contort in a mixture of pleasure and pain as she pulls out until just the tip remains inside, then slams back in. she roughly manhandles you, slamming you back on her cock. “nnhhggg…a-abby~”

you hear her fumbling with something before you suddenly feel pressure around your throat, the silky material of her tie digs into your neck as she wraps it around your throat and yanks you back to make eye contact with her in the mirror. “look at me while im fucking you, yeah?” she growls through gritted teeth, her eyes dark and filled with jealousy fueled lust.

you’re gripping onto the marble counter so hard that your knuckles are starting to lose their colour, strangled moans leaving your lips, the perfectly applied lipstick now smudged around your mouth in messy splotches.

she drops the tie onto the counter and you gasp for some much needed air. she snakes her free hand down to rub at your clit lazily as she snaps her hips into yours at an eye-rolling pace. “a-abby! oohhh…my god…fuck…” the fingers of her unoccupied hand dig into your hip, holding you in place as she starts to pound into you relentlessly, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoing in the small bathroom.

she groans, picking up the pace, the friction from the harness against her clit making her moans grow louder and more desperate, hips grinding into you in-between thrusts as she chases her own release.

you thighs start to clench and shake as her pace picks up even more, leaving you gasping and grabbing at any surface you can find to ground yourself. “you feel that? only i can make you cum like this, yeah?” you’re babbling incoherently as the the head of her cock keeps bumping into that sweet spot until it has you letting out a loud pleading cry as you cum on her cock.

she keeps thrusting, prolonging your release as she helps you ride out your own orgasm, her thick fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise.

“fuuccckk~” she pants heavily, leaning forward to rest her head against your back, the harness still grinding against her clit and making her cum hard whilst still buried inside you.

she lets out a loud groan as she pulls out with a pop, looking down at the mess between your legs and the cum dripping from your clenching cunt. you turn back to face her and she brings your mouths together in a brief, heated kiss before pulling away and carefully helping you clean yourself up.

she tucks her strap-on back into her pants and neatens her tux up before picking up your discarded panties and shoving them into her pocket before holding her arm out for you to take. “c’mon, baby~” her chivalrous action a stark contrast to the way she just fucked you into oblivion not even five minutes ago.

you smile coyly, adjusting your dress and grabbing onto her forearm as she leads you out of the bathroom and back out into the main studio space, not even caring about the skeptical looks and the un-approving stares of the people around you.

an; model!reader has me in an absolute chokehold right now😵‍💫if u have any ideas for more PLSSS leave me a request !!!!

[alizalayne]

Whats the ventilation and heat like in the suit head? I can't tell if it would be warmer or more cool to wear in compaison to a faux fur fursuit head. The only thing I worry abt is how durable needlefelting is and if it can be cleaned like a traditional fursuit head. That being said I really hope you continue making these, they're cool as hell 👍🔥👍

Okay first of all I'm super jazzed to be able to talk about this with people, and I kind of went overboard answering this, but thanks for asking! Putting this up in case anyone else is curious.

The main answers to your questions are 1: wool is cooler than acrylic fur and less stinky

2: A fursuit head is a swamp and i am snorkling in it.

I mentioned this in my behind the scenes post and there are pictures there but I literally just made a snorkel out of a snorkel mouthpiece and two collapsible automotive funnels, the kind that you can bend into a shape so that you can get goo into a weird part of your car.

that snorkel piece goes straight out of a vent hole in the inside of the ear and I felted a pink skin flap in front of it and then felted white fiber into that so it just looked like a tuft. it worked perfectly, it's just that I couldn't talk in it that well. But I'm definitely going to keep using it if I can't think of a better mouthpiece for it because as SOON as I breathed inside the head instead of through the snorkel I was like oh my god everyone is living in hell.

You can see it in this picture a little bit. nobody noticed it at all!

My friend had made a much more traditional head with a bigass electric fan in it and he was having more heat issues than I was, because I cannot stress enough that acrylic fur is like, one of the most horrifically hot fabrics you can wear. I don't know how everybody is even alive!! and there's a layer of ACRYLIC BACKING on it! Also check out how "short-pile" my fur is, most of the head is only an inch thick, it's a half-inch bucket head made out of foam covered in maybe 1/3 of an inch of wool? the less space you have between the fibers the less heat gets trapped. I was shocked by how comfortable I was, and I was having migraine symptoms that day and was extra sensitive to heat. The con where we were had the air turned down and it was chilly outside, but I was shocked when I took the head off and shook my hair out and I wasn't even sweating. I had long hair in a wig cap under that thing and I wasn't sweating. It was crazy.

As for cleaning the wool, I cannot find anyone else who has done this who has cleaning tips for me, but the foam is what I'm worried about. After a few hours of wear there's nothing wrong with the wool at all, but i can TELL the foam is ever so slightly nasty, because the foam is polyurethane and wool is what you make hiking socks out of. I have some wool cleaner coming in the mail that's made for delicate needlefelted items like scarves and deposits lanolin, which is what keeps wool "alive" kind of like how you have to care for leather. It's definitely an experiment! Nothing ventured nothing gained!

I don't have an idea in mind for a second head right now and the next thing I want to make is a cowl so I can wear lower-cut tops with this head, but I might try something else if I think of an idea! I'm probably never gonna sell these because I'm weird about selling sculptures for whatever reason. They're like my living beasts.

But I definitely hope this encourages other people who might be interested in bringing needlefelt or other fiber art sensibilities to this space, that would be a massive complement and a high honor to give people a new way to enjoy a hobby that I know means a ton to a lot of people.

[cyber333angel]

thinking abt camboy!jj hmm.. from other fics I’ve read they describe him as the type to not show his face and only video tape himself from the neck down and I think that’s so real.. like him in the daytime playing like call of duty or some shit and THEN at night he sits in the same chair where he jerks his dick, in front of a camera to make some extra bucks like. I had wrote this as an ask before but if you were maybe a babysitter for jjs little siblings and after putting them to sleep, you go to tell jj that your heading out but when you open the door to his room he’s in the middle of a stream, you just pause and stare at his dick in his hand and you feel your cheeks starting to heat up so you break out of the stare and try to walk out the room but before you could leave jj stops you and takes your hand . he manhandles you to his wall and is js so rough with you “say a fuckin word about this and I’ll make sure you get fired from this little babysitting gig okay princess?” and instead of you being scared of him in this moment your just turned on by being put in your place 🤫 just having your eyes go half lidded and jj seeing you get so small and submissive from the way he talked to you, he decides to tease you, gripping your jaw hard and forcing you to look directly at his face “you gettin turned on from this shit? have some fuckin degrading kink or something, what the fuck is wrong with you sweetcheeks?” he takes his knee and pushes it between your thighs where your wearing no shorts under your skirt , you gasp at the sudden contact and stutter out “n-no! m’sorry I really didn’t mean to interrupt you jayj!” unfazed he comes up with an idea “if y’re really sorry you’ll come help me out won’t you?” not wanting to lose your job or be hated by jj you agree and nod “of course .” not knowing he meant stripping you of all your clothes and putting you into doggy style in front of the camera screen, letting your face be shown to the little posse of fans on his stream while his face is still kept out the camera..muscular abs and arms being the only thing in frame of him while you on the other hand show your whole body and face, he has you stuttering on his cock “m-mph fuck jj your making me feel so g-good! oh god!” him loving the praise, speeds up the pace making you unable to even get out a response . only plap-plap-plap and wet squelches from your now sloppy cunt . his pelvis connecting to the fat of your ass every 2 seconds makes you know for a fact that your back is gonna be sore tomorrow morning . “gonna let me cum in this pretty pussy hm princess?” not thinking with your head but the heartbeat in your lower body you nod and beg him to cum inside “y-yes jayj! don’t pull out, wan your cum hngh please!” jj also only thinking with his dick, releases a load of warm semen into your cunt, putting in some last thrust until he fills you up. “fhuuck..” he says almost forgetting about the stream he remembers he’s getting paid to put on a show . “show them how I just filled this pussy, cmon now dollface” he manhandles you until your sitting on his gaming chair with your pussy facing the camera, he takes one hand and puts two fingers near your hole . he stretches it apart to watch the cum leak out, the other hand grasps your face still forcing you to look at the camera , leaving you twitching and crying but with a satisfied smile, you hear various sounds and beeps coming from the computer seeing how everyone enjoyed your little show.

[thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels]

And I will call it home, this curse of ours (despite, despite, despite)

Day 7 of The Long Halloween - event masterlist here

pairing: tim drake x reader (gender neutral)

length: 8.2k

genre: horror, fluff kinda, hurt/comfort

warnings: vampire timmy, werewolf reader, reader gets shot and it's pretty bloody, lots of blood talk actually but in a vampire way, fade to black rooftop smut scene idk guys

a/n: pls god I hope everyone likes this one I fell asleep with my face on my desk writing it. but it's the classic !! I had to finish the event with the classic. ask me abt the jason todd cameo that I couldn't find a place to fit in

"Oh, god, not this again." You're walking down one of the endless streets of Gotham, your hood up and your shoulders hunched, when you hear someone sigh and groan while the person she's with goes on and on.

"No, I'm serious. There's something wrong with those Waynes -"

"You're just jealous because they're rich and they run the city. Come on -"

"No, I mean it," he insists, stopping to stand on the sidewalk and frown at his friend. You stop abruptly, too, nearly bumping into them from behind before you make a sharp turn to veer around them to keep walking. Thankfully, they don't pay you any real mind. "They're vampires - I know it. If you would just listen to me -"

"When are you going to stop believing in those ghost stories? They're not real," the woman is insisting, but you've trailed too far away by that point to hear the rest of her sentence.

The Waynes.

The biggest vampire coven on the coast. The only vampire coven left in Gotham.

And yes, they run the city, you think dryly as you continue to weave through winding, narrow streets and look up at the sliver of moon that just barely shines through the damp, foggy night. Yes, you think, they're unbeatable - and they've got the nasty, self-righteous responsibility of keeping this city in check.

A bat flies somewhere overhead and you flinch before huffing and shaking your head. Stupid, you think as you drag your feet. Stupid to move to a place that drove out your kind centuries ago. Stupid to come here knowing that it would carve a bloody target onto your back. Stupid to think that you could just keep your head down and stay hidden and let the rest of the world pass you by.

"That's impossible," Damian says indignantly, sniffing as he crosses his arms. His eyes glow in the dull glint of the Cave and a swarm of bats fly overhead.

"It's not," Dick huffs, frowning down at his brother. "People have been talking about it, I'm telling you."

"There are no werewolves in Gotham, Grayson," Damian snaps, stomping away. "Father's made sure of that." Dick looks to Bruce as Damian disappears in the shadows of the Cave, swept up by the darkness and the crushing echo, and Bruce just sighs thoughtfully. 

"It's a war that we won centuries ago, Dick," Bruce says in a smooth, deep rumble. "The wolves were driven out of my city a very long time ago."

"I know," Dick snaps. "That's why it's - Don't you think it's strange? What people have been saying? Wolf prints in the forests by the manor, rumours of people seeing some kind of creature in the city at night, it's -"

"I'm not saying I don't believe you, Dick," Bruce says placatingly as he holds up his hand. "I'm only saying… if this is true… if wolves are back in Gotham, that means war is back on our doorstep. We need to tread carefully, that's all."

"Might be fun," Tim chirps, silently slipping into the conversation between the two of him, his fangs glinting as he grins. "I've always wanted to really see one."

"Don't be reckless, Tim," Dick groans. "They're dangerous. Don't go out and get yourself -"

"If there really is a wolf out there," Bruce continues, ploughing over Dick and Tim's squabble, "it'll do us no good to have people grow suspicious. This needs to be dealt with quietly. Those of us in the shadows… must remain in the shadows. You know this."

"Yea," Tim snaps his fingers and turns to Dick. "How's that, uh, situation with the gargoyle doing, hm? You dealt with that one yet?"

"I'm working on it," Dick snaps, crossing his arms and letting his fangs glint through the darkness. 

"This coven is stronger than we ever have been before," Bruce continues, ignoring the feud in front of him. "There's no reason for this to get out of hand. However… we'd be fools to think this thing has really come here alone, and killing it quickly will only bring the rest of the pack. Tim," Bruce spins to face him and Tim straightens under the attention. "Find the creature - track it, find out what it's doing here."

"What - me?" Tim splutters. Bruce merely turns and begins to walk further into the Cave, leaving the two of them in shadow and the echo of his words.

"Of course," he says without looking back. "You wanted to see one up close, after all. Just watch its teeth."

Werewolves, fortunately, have a smell incredibly distinct from humans, so it doesn't take long for Tim to pick you out from the crowd. He's trailing after you as you wander down one of the many twisted streets of the city, keeping you in his sights as you move quickly with your head ducked low. 

You're nervous, he realizes quickly - because he can hear it, the frantic beating of your heart and the blood pumping through you. Tim finds himself running his tongue over one of his fangs and tipping his head back for just a moment, letting himself take his eyes off of you for just a second. But then he refocuses and you're suddenly…

You're gone, disappeared from in front of him. Tim freezes, staring at the spot where you'd been before glancing around. Night rose hours ago and, at this ungodly hour, the streets are deserted. It had just been the two of you out here and now, he thinks as he listens to the sudden silence - now it's just him. 

The silence stretches on. A street lamp somewhere flickers and a bat flies overhead.

The vicious, rumbling snarl that he hears from behind him isn't enough warning before the force of a wolf slamming him to the ground knocks the wind out of him. Even with his heightened reflexes, he wasn't fast enough to dodge before the two of you are tumbling across the empty road with snapping jaws and clawing hands. 

You roll, the both of you, through the yellow, pooled light of a street lamp and into one of the dripping, dirty alleys of the city, and that's where Tim finally rights himself. He smooths his hands through his tousled hair as he hisses at you, baring his fangs as the creature in front of him snarls and snaps dripping, yellowed teeth back at him. 

But you don't lunge again - not yet, at least. You circle him, keeping your pale, moonlit eyes focused on him as you growl and shake your fur out from the ordeal.

"You're the wolf," Tim blurts out, and you pause, faltering at the obviousness of it all. Tim crouches in front of you, cocking his head to the side with a curiosity that outweighs any fear that he should feel in this situation, and the action makes you stop completely and square yourself with him. 

"I've always wanted to really see one of you," he murmurs, staring at you with sharp, red eyes. "Can you do that whenever you want? I'd always thought it was just… on the full moon." Tim reaches for you then, like he's entranced by whatever morbid curiosity he's wrapped up in, and the sight of it all makes your hackles rise as you bare your teeth.

It's when you finally lunge at him, aiming for his outstretched hand, that Tim snaps back to the present moment and jerks back, up and onto the safety of a fire escape and away from you. He leans over the railing and watches you circle him from below for just a moment before he tips his head back and stares at the blotchy, darkened sky. 

"I think," he says slowly, beginning to tip his head back down, "that there's a lot more I'd like to learn about you before this is through." But by the time his eyes are trained on the ground again, you're… gone, disappeared into the blackened night again and leaving him alone. 

The next time that Tim comes after you, he feels like he's learned. Dick had chastised him properly when he'd told his brother about his first wolf encounter. He'd reprimanded Tim for not realizing that werewolves are just as supernatural as the vamps - they're fast and deadly and a lot harder to catch than humans.

So, this time around, Tim feels that he's learned. He's trailing you from the rooftops, sticking to vampire domain and staying in the skies as he watches you wander down below, weaving through streets and alleyways. 

But he finds himself… confused again. Because you're acting the way that you did on that first night - sharp and skittish and nervous, looking over your shoulder and keeping a hastened pace. 

But it can't be because of him, Tim thinks. So what…what are you so afraid of? 

Tim glances down to secure his footing for just a moment, but it's long enough for you to have disappeared a second time.

"Fuck," he spits, rubbing a hand over his forehead. "Oh my god, Dick's gonna kill me -"

"You're sloppy." A voice makes him whirl around and it's you standing there, your breath heaving with the effort of climbing up onto the roof. Your hands are clenched at your sides and your feet are braced like you're ready for a fight, but Tim just cocks his head to the side and stares at you.

"How'd you do that without me noticing?" he asks. You grit your teeth,

"You're not the first vamp I've hunted. Doubt you'll be the last," you snap, but Tim just hums and nods and turns fully to face you. 

"I'm not sloppy." He says it slowly, like he's unsure of the insult. You smile menacingly and something that feels a bit too much like fear crawls up Tim's spine. 

"The Waynes have ruled unchallenged for too long," you continue. "You don't know how to hunt anymore. You're sloppy, careless - can't even corner a lone werewolf properly."

"Ah," Tim responds, his voice hardening. "So it's true. You are here for a fight."

"No," you shake your head. "It's just an observation. I'm here," you say clearly, stepping towards him and quirking a brow when he takes a step back, "to tell you to stay away from me. Leave me alone."

"And leave you to come after us? Yea, no chance," Tim scoffs and you just glare at him.

"I don't have anything to do with your family and I don't want anything to do with your family," you snap. "I'm just trying to get away from all that."

"…What?"

"There's no war in Gotham City anymore. That's…that's what everyone says," you say quietly, your voice tapering off. "I just…I'm just trying to get away from it. I just wanted to find somewhere where no one would follow me."

When you dart off the roof, then, heading to the edge and kicking your legs over the side to drop down into the abyss below, Tim finds himself too bewildered to stop you. Your words turn over and over in his mind and he finds that he can't quite grasp why someone would come here willingly. He can't quite understand why someone would flee to a place as cursed as this. 

The game of cat and mouse that the two of you begin to play is a bit too much for Tim to want it to end, and he finds himself slinking off, away from the Cave and his prying family more and more often just to chase you down. 

He's shocked, startled into frozen silence when he finds you one night hidden in the corner of a deep, dark alleyway. You're plastered against the rough brick wall, unmoving and holding your breath, and when you lock eyes with Tim he sees how wild you look - like an animal caught in a snare. 

"What -" Tim begins, but you press a finger over your lips to shush him silently and you look at him desperately, your eyes wide and heart hammering against your ribcage. He slinks into the shadows next to you, keeping himself hidden as he watches you with furrowed brows and concern clouding his eyes. But he listens, nonetheless, straining to hear any sort of sound beyond the typical ruckus of the city.

He does hear something when he really listens, and it's enough to make Tim freeze, a cold sort of terror seeping into him. He can hear it, the bickering conversation of a group of men - and they're talking about you. They're asking where you went, following the trail of your footsteps and the sound of your howls. And Tim can hear it, the sound of a silver bullet clinking in the barrel of a gun. He can hear the grating clank of a wooden stake pressed into someone's palms.

Hunters.

There are werewolf hunters in Gotham… and they're here for you.

Tim stares at you, at the way your eyes squeeze shut in panic and you gasp in a shuddering breath. He stares and something burns in him. 

There have been no hunters in Gotham for centuries. The Waynes have been too powerful for too long for anyone to try to go up against them, especially humans with pitchforks and burning torches. 

But now… one lone werewolf is enough to bring all of that crashing down. One small person is enough to drag that fear back into their lives, even if it was against your own will. 

Tim grabs you by the collar of your shirt, tugging you toward a fire escape. When you resist, when you dig your heels in and shake your head, he hisses and bares his fangs. 

"Would you rather I hand you over to them?" he snaps. "It's me or them. Choose." There's a sort of betrayal that flashes through your eyes, then, but you knock his hand off of your collar and begin climbing up to the roof, anyway, trusting him to follow after you. 

The night sky, when you make it to the top, is as shrouded and dark as ever, the moon large and looming past the fog that bears down onto you. You stand with your back to Tim, your fists clenched as you take deep breaths and stare out toward the narrow, twisted city. 

"You've endangered us all," Tim spits, and your fists clench tighter.

"I'm sure you can handle it."

"No, that's not the point," he snaps as he reaches for you, grabbing you by the shoulder to make you spin and face him. "Why are they after you?"

"Because I'm a werewolf," you say dully. Tim grabs onto the collar of your shirt again and shakes you just a bit.

"Don't be stupid. You have to tell me what's going on or - or… just - please. Tell me," he trails off at the end, keeping you close to him with his fingers bunched into the fabric of your shirt. You put your hands on top of his, your warm palms meeting his ice-cold skin, and when Tim glances down he startles. 

He'd never seen you in just a t-shirt before, he realizes, and he sees it now - long, jagged scars on your arms. He knows what they're from - he recognizes them from what he's learned. They're scars from werewolf fights, deep gouges from claws and teeth marring your skin. 

"How," he falters. "What - you…"

"You're not supposed to leave your pack," you respond quietly, letting your hands rest atop his as he keeps his grip on your shirt tight. "It's… it's a crime, in a way. You're not supposed to run away."

"Why did you…" Tim looks up at you desperately, something akin to anguish flashing through his cold, red eyes, and a frown tugs on your lips as you try to understand why he's so upset by it all. "What…what happened? You have to tell me what happened."

"Well, I -" you shift on your feet. "I left, Tim. I - there's a war going on out there. My kind and - and yours - we're slaughtering each other. I… I left. I ran away from it. I ran away." Tim lets go of you, then, stumbling back and running his hands through his hair while you continue. "The… the rest of the world isn't like Gotham, Tim. Not all of us have the protection that you do."

"Why Gotham?" he asks abruptly, snapping his head back up to stare at you. "Why come here? You're not safe here."

"I'm not safe anywhere," you point out, but then you sigh and walk to the edge of the roof to sit with your feet swinging over the edge. The frigid winds of autumn are beginning to waft through the city, but the blood that pumps through you keeps you burning always and Tim, as he sits next to you slowly, finds himself unaffected by the cold against his frozen skin.

"There was a time," you continue to explain, "before the bats took over Gotham, when it was still lawless and… and wild. There was a time when my kind was still welcome here. It was… it was centuries, I know, but… I don't - I don't know. In a way, I guess, it's… it's just like coming home." You laugh then, a bit hysterically, at the trap of it all. Through generations and generations, the city has tugged you and pulled you harder and harder and harder until you couldn't help but stumble here. You couldn't help but try to begin to build a home here. 

"I…" Tim begins slowly, like the words are being tugged from him against his will. "I know what it's like to be… lonely. I - I know what it's like to feel like you don't belong somewhere."

"Is that so?" you sigh, tipping your head back as a patch of clouds part and the light of the moon shines down onto you. 

"I do," he insists rather earnestly. "I… I felt like that. When - when I was human." That makes you pause, makes you tip your head back down, abandoning the light of the moon to look at him, instead.

"You're not… upset about being bitten, then?"

"No, I -" Tim laughs. "I wanted it. I begged Bruce for it."

"Who would ever want such a thing?" you murmur, but there's no real accusation in your voice as you watch him. Tim just shrugs, clenching his hands in his lap.

"It's like I said, I… I was lonely. I didn't - I wasn't anybody or anything. I - I just… I just wanted to belong somewhere. That's all."

"Ah," is all you say in response, tipping your head back again to face the sky. But you're just a moment too late, this time, and the clouds have already swarmed to cover the moon again, leaving the two of you in heavy, damp darkness once more. 

Tim, meanwhile, stares down toward the ground, letting his eyes trace over the maze of streets that form the city that he's grown to love. It sort of burns when he remembers it, what it was like to be alone and lost and desperate for a soft place to land - desperate for a place to call home. 

"I don't get you," he says suddenly, his voice heavy as it cuts through the night.

"Hm?"

"You gave that up. You had that and you gave it up."

"Tim, I -" you sigh. "No… it wasn't like that. It wasn't that simple."

"Then explain it to me," Tim says quickly, as he turns to face you, propping a leg up on the ledge of the roof so that his knee presses against your hip and you can feel the coolness of his skin seeping into you through your clothes. "Make me understand."

"Why?"

"Because, I -" Tim trails off, staring at you like he's just realized the truth, himself. "Because, I… I want to understand you. I want to know you."

"I… did have those things," you sigh, reeling from Tim's confession and bulldozing on so as to not think about it. "I had a pack and a family and a… a purpose, I suppose. And I did - I gave that up. But it's not…it's not our war, Tim. It's not mine."

"Of course it is," he says immediately, but you sigh and place a hand on his knee, your thumb brushing against his inner thigh.

"No, listen. We are puppets, Tim, fighting a war that doesn't belong to us. Do you know how it started? Do you know why we're sworn against each other?"

"Well…" Tim says slowly. "No, but… I - I just don't remember. But I'm sure it's… I'm sure…"

"You don't even know why you're fighting anymore, do you?" you say gently, and Tim feels a bit like all of the air has been punched out of him. "What do you really believe in? What do you really want to do with those teeth of yours?"

"Well, I don't," Tim begins, and the panic that he feels makes a defensive sort of venom drip from his fangs and pool in his mouth. "I don't want to live like you, shivering alone in an alleyway in a city that you don't belong in while you're - you're hunted like an animal."

"I am an animal, Tim," you smile gently, and a guilt begins to eat at him while his head spins. "We both are."

But he finds that he's not listening to you very well now, too busy spiralling and reeling and feeling the world tip around him as your words ring through his mind over and over and over. 

Because you're right, he thinks. You're right because he's sitting here on a rooftop with you, his sworn enemy, and you're warm and kind and looking at him like you care about him. Your shoulder's brushing against his and the warmth of your palm is seeping into his thigh and all that he can think about is how lovely you look under the pale light of the moon.

"Maybe you have a point, though," you laugh, and it's a humourless, hollow sort of thing. "What's the point, really, if… if you're alone?" He wants to scream at you when you say that, wants to grab you by the collar and shake you and say that he gets it now, just a little bit. Because what's the point, really, of living, if you're living someone else's life?

But you're just sighing and closing your eyes and tipping your head back again and Tim finds that he can't speak. He finds that the words get caught in his throat on the way up. 

"Curled up in a corner of the world and left with nothing other than survival," you murmur, your eyes still firmly shut. "God, what a life. What a… a lie. What a way to pretend."

"You're not pretending," Tim blurts out, and his hand shoots out to wrap around your wrist and hold onto you, anchoring your palm to his thigh. "You're not because - because this is living, right? This is - you're doing it, aren't… aren't you? Isn't it - isn't this what it means to be alive?"

"Alive?" you say quietly, having opened your eyes to stare at him and watch his outburst unfold. "Do you… remember what it was like to be alive?" 

Tim lets go of you like you've burned him when you say that. He winces, curling into himself as he feels like he's collapsing under the weight of it all. He can feel his own cold, pale skin and the press of his fangs poking against his bottom lip. He can hear the sound of your heart beating, the rush of your blood through your veins. He can… he can remember - almost, what it was like to have his own beating heart.

"I'm… sorry," you say quietly, looking away from him and making an effort to tug your hand away. "I shouldn't have… I don't mean it like that. I'm sorry." Tim watches as your hand leaves his thigh, as the warmth of your palm melts away and the cold sets in. Looking out toward the endless, looming city, Tim wonders if it was ever really worth it - being alive here.

"Well, maybe…" he begins slowly, choosing his words carefully. "Maybe neither of us are really living. Maybe we - I don't know, maybe you always want what you don't have… or - or something."

"I guess," you laugh, and it's a hollow, lifeless sort of thing. "I guess I… I don't know, it's…" You pause, chewing on your lips as you weigh your words. Tim watches, letting his eyes flick over your lips.

"Lonely?" he offers quietly. You turn to look at him again, shifting so that your sides press together a bit more.

"I'm… I'm not lonely right now," you say quietly, your voice so soft that he's sure he would've missed it in another life where he hadn't turned into this thing. "Are… are you? Lonely, I mean. Right now?" Tim looks at you carefully, weighing your words in his soul as he listens to the unsteady beat of your heart and feels the warmth rolling off of you in waves and splashing onto him.

"…No," he admits, and it feels like a confession of sin, like an unholy action… to find love in an enemy and peace in the middle of a war. "No, I… I'm not - I don't feel lonely right now."

"It doesn't really make sense, does it?" you muse quietly, and as you lean back onto your palms, he finds himself missing your warmth desperately. When he chases after it, following your movement with his own and leaning over you, you let him, a lazy sort of grin slipping across your face. 

"What doesn't?" he murmurs in response, although the more he leans into you, the more his mind hazes over and he finds it difficult to listen to reason.

"This," you offer. "This… feud. This war. Are we not just… the same? Are we not creatures of the night, both of us?"

"Creatures, sure," Tim says easily in response as he flashes his fangs at you. You just roll your eyes in response and he listens for the scared uptick of your heartbeat that just… never comes. It's a steady, even beat and he feels it drawing him in and in and in until he's leaning so close to you that your noses are almost touching.

"There are real enemies down there," you murmur, but your voice has grown sombre and your heartbeat has jumped in a way that makes him snarl, all fangs and flashing eyes. You reach to tangle a hand into the hair at the nape of his neck and press your forehead against his. "Those hunters… they never stop, you know. They never slow, they never give up. They'll circle endlessly until they find me."

"I won't let them get to you," Tim says in a rush, his words jumbling together in his haste to promise himself to you. You smile ruefully, like you can't quite believe it and you're too tired to try.

"Why?" you challenge.

"Because you're mine."

"Your… enemy? Right…? Right, Tim?" 

"Yes," Tim says haltingly, leaning closer to you. Your lips brush against his and a shiver wracks through him.

"I don't think so," you whisper. "I don't think there's any need for us to fight each other. I don't think there's any need for us to fight this…"

That's all it takes, really, to have him lunging for you. Tim's lips are ice cold against yours and the grip that he has on your hips is firm, anchoring you to him. It's only when you reach to tangle both of your hands into his hair that he moves, cushioning the back of your head with his hand as you fall backwards until your back is pressed against the rooftop and he's pressed against you.

"Are you… sure?" he asks tentatively, breaking the kiss to skim his lips down the column of your throat and let his fangs scrape against your skin. "Are you sure you want this? You  - you want me?"

"Well, who else?" you quip. "Would you rather I let someone else do this to me?" That's enough to get another snarl from him before his lips are back on yours, taking and taking and taking.

"My love," Tim's voice wakes you slowly, his hand shaking your shoulder gently as you blink your eyes open.

"Hm?"

"The sun will be up soon… I have to go," he says, a bit sullenly. You huff and move to sit, rolling your shoulders out from the hard rooftop as he watches you. There are loving bruises from his lips and fangs littering your neck and collarbones and Tim smiles when he sees them, reaching forward to brush a thumb over some of them and delighting in your shiver.

"You should get out of here," you murmur, your voice thick with sleep still as you lean into his touch.

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"You…" Tim pauses, frowning at you as he glances around the rooftop. "Those hunters are still out there. You need to be careful. You need - you need to be protected."

"I can protect myself, Timmy," you assure him gently, standing and stretching out your back and shoulders. "I've been doing it for a long time."

"But you don't -" Tim shoots to his feet to look you in the eye while he speaks. "You don't have to - not anymore. I'll… I want to - I just want to look out for you."

"Look out for yourself first," you quip gently, eyeing the light just beginning to crest over the horizon. "You need to get inside. And besides…"

"What?" Tim cocks his head to the side. You shoot him a sympathetic look.

"I'm not sure it's me you should be worried about. What do you think he'll do? Bruce, I mean. What - do you think he'll be happy about this? About you spending the night with something like me?"

"He…" Tim falters. "He doesn't know. Of course, he doesn't know. I wouldn't - I wouldn't do that to you."

"I…" you sigh, stepping forward to press a kiss to the corner of Tim's frown. "I didn't mean it like that. I just need - I want you to be careful. You'll get yourself into trouble if he finds out."

"He won't," Tim assures confidently. "He… he won't."

Tim thinks, as the sun sets once again and he slinks out of the Cave, that he's probably a coward. He considers it as he makes his way out into the crisp, cool air of the night and chases after you - he thinks back to all of the lies that he's begun to tell Bruce.

Your words ring through his head over and over, claims that you have to stand on your own two feet and carve your own soul swarming around him as he thinks of how small he's gotten under the shadow of someone else's war.

He thinks that he has to talk to you about it, has to fall to his knees and ask for guidance, ask for a direction to throw himself into. He thinks -

He smells blood. He sees blood, splattered across the pale concrete of the sidewalk and dripping from a nearby street lamp. He smells it, sweet and thick and heady and… it's yours. He knows it, can taste it in the air. It's your blood… and there's lots of it. 

It's a bit of a mad scramble, then, to chase after you. Tim’s senses, usually sharpened to perfection and designed to hunt, become fuzzy as waves of nauseating panic roll over him. He stumbles a bit, tumbling into an alleyway as he follows the scent and the sight of your blood smeared over the cracked, winding roads of this cursed, darkened city. He stumbles and he lurches and then… and then he comes face to face with you.

A great wolf, snarling and snapping and curled into the corner of a shady alleyway, pressed against the rough, brick wall as a silver bullet sits embedded in your shoulder. Tim sort of… freezes at the sight, at the blood oozing from the open wound and the way the smell of it hits the air, his tongue pricking and his fangs pressing against his lip. 

"My -" he lurches toward you. "My love, I - holy shit." He falls to his knees before you, the jaws of a wolf snarling and exposed above his head as he stares at the bullet and the silver poison that seeps into you from it. He can hear it, the scattered, frantic beat of your heart - he can hear the wheezing of your lungs and the slowing of the blood pumping through you.

You're dying, and all he can do is fall to his knees in front of you like a prayer. All he can do is curl into himself and grip onto his hair like he's going mad.

"Aw, Timmy," your voice is quiet and shaky and Tim's head snaps up to look at you, now curled on the hard, cold ground in your human form, a pool of your own blood seeping into you. "You look awful."

"Speak for yourself," he snaps weakly, but he reaches for you all the same, dragging your trembling form into his arms as you sway and your eyes blink sluggishly. You wonder, somewhere distant and unimportant, if you're here because you really trust him enough to save you, or if you just… have no choice. 

You wonder it as you see him pull his hand away from your shoulder to stare at the blood on it, at your blood, and when his pupils dilate and his tongue swipes over his bottom lip, you think that this must be a cruel, cruel way to die. Not by the hand of a hunter, but by the hand of your partner. Not by the hand of hate, but… but by the hand of love.

"I'm going to save you," Tim says, though, and the force that rings through you as his words knock the little bit of air that you have left from your chest. He grips your face with a bloody hand, forcing you to look at him and shaking you slightly when you try to let your eyes flutter closed. "I'm going to save you."

"I'm not sure you can, Timmy," you murmur, your voice heavy.

"Hey, no," he taps against your cheek to keep you awake. "You need to stay with me. You need to tell me - I need to know. Who did this? Who did this to you?"

"This isn't really the moment for vengeance, don't you think?" you offer in lieu of an answer. Tim groans and hunches over you, the smell and the sight and the near taste of your blood making his mind spin and his body sway with dizziness. 

He gets a bit too close, he realizes, when his fangs are suddenly scraping against the exposed skin of your throat. It's intoxicating, he finds, the feel of it all. But -

But then he feels it, the weakening flutter of your pulse under his tongue, and it's enough to make his head spin for an entirely different reason. 

"I'm going to save you," Tim repeats, and this time he's pulling you further into his arms as he stands, holding you securely against him. "I … I can't do this on my own, but - I'm… I know someone who can. I'm not going to let anything happen to you, right? I - I promised you, didn't I?"

"Sure," you say sleepily, your words a bit jumbled together as you cling to him. "But who really expects it, hm? A creature like you or me to keep a promise? Who really believes there's a life for things like us?"

"I do," he responds quickly, holding you closer. There's an earnest tilt to his voice that you've never heard before and you wonder, somewhere far, far away, if it's the first time that he's heard that from his own voice, as well. "I - I believe it," he continues. "I believe in a life for my- for you. I… I do. I believe in a life for myself."

"Well, isn't that nice," you murmur, and you mean it as much as you can right now. "I hope you get that, Timmy. I… I really do."

"We'll get it," he pleads with you, and there's a pain in him that feels new to you both. There's a love and a loss that feels so human, so alive that it's sort of… foreign. It's almost out of place coming from a dead thing like him. 

It's sound that first greets you when the beginnings of consciousness begin to stir inside you. It's the sound of water dripping from stalactites, of a waterfall crashing somewhere and a rushing river flowing against rocks. It's the sound of bats chirping and squeaking as a thousand wings flutter and flap somewhere high up. It's the endless echo of it all spinning and spinning and spinning and -

And it's Tim, sitting next to you and picking at his nails nervously.

You can smell him, of course, with that animal nose of yours. Just like you can smell… the cave that you're in, wet and damp and dark, reeking of vampire. Vampires beyond just your nervous, stressed-out lover.

The realization makes you shoot fully awake as you rip your eyes open, struggling to sit up right away and wincing at the searing pain that rips through your shoulder. Tim makes a panicked, strangled sort of noise and reaches for you, shushing you gently and trying to coax you back into a relaxed, lying position.

"Tim," you say earnestly, and there's a panic in you - a fear in you that feels as if it's about to crawl up from your throat. "Tim, I'm -"

"It's ok," he says soothingly, smoothing a hand over your hair as he pulls you into his chest, trying desperately to get you to relax as agony blooms from your bullet wound. "Shh, shh, it's alright. You're safe, I promise."

"I'm in a vampire cave, Timmy, I can't - I'm - it's not -"

"It's ok," he says again, firmly this time as he clamps you against his chest, forcing you to stop your struggling and squirming. If you weren't so hurt, if your head wasn't spinning and your eyes weren't blurring, you'd be able to fight back. Especially now, when the full moon hangs overhead, miles above this endless, blackened, twisting cave that you find yourself lost in. 

"Timmy," you all but whine, tired and trembling and curling into him as he holds you, shushing you and smoothing a hand over your hair and pressing kisses to the crown of your head.

"It's ok," he repeats. "It's alright. You're… you're safe here, I promise. Nothing's going to hurt you in here."

"You can't know that," you say quietly, pushing against him just a bit. He sighs and readjusts himself so that he can look down to you.

"I  - I said I would save you, didn't I? I said I'd bring you to someone who could save you," Tim says earnestly, tightening his grip on you. You freeze at his words, staring up at him with wide eyes as the pieces of your ill-fated night come back to you in burning, painful flashes.

"Who… Tim. Tim, who - what happened? Who…"

"It was…" Tim shifts, looking away from you pointedly as he twists his fingers with yours nervously. "Bruce. It was Bruce."

"It was… Tim -" You laugh a bit hysterically, the sound echoing around the endless, looming cave. "Tim - no, it's… No. he didn't."

"He did," Tim insists. "He did. He… I don't know. I don't know why."

"Is he… is he here?" You shrink a bit as you say it, pressing against Tim's chest as he frowns and wraps his arms around you a bit tighter.

"No," he assures, shushing you again gently. "He's out - they all are."

"For what?"

"Well, see, there's a bit of a pest problem in Gotham," Tim drawls, a hint of mirth in his voice that makes you narrow your eyes. "Werewolf hunters. Nasty things, I'm sure you know. The rest of the family is just… doing a bit of clean up."

"You're -" You squirm out of Tim's grip just enough to sit up and he takes the opportunity to drag you into his lap, your legs wrapping around his waist as you smooth a hand over the hair on the nape of his neck. "Your family is out… to go after werewolf hunters?"

"Yes," Tim says plainly. You give him a withering sort of look. 

"Bruce Wayne, King of the Vampires, saved the life of a werewolf and now he's out, running around under the full moon and tearing apart hunters?" you say dryly.

"Yes," Tim repeats. "It's his city, after all. It's his job."

"It's not," you say quickly, frowning as you tilt your head back to look at Tim, at his red eyes and pale, cold skin. "This is… this is something else. Timmy, you've - you've got to tell me what happened."

"Well - it's," Tim shifts where he sits, looking away a bit bashfully in a way that makes you follow his gaze with your own and narrow your eyes suspiciously. "I don't think he's ever seen me like that before," he continues quietly, a trembling sort of quality making his voice waver. "I've never… I've never begged him for something like that. I don't - I don't think I've ever cared enough about anything to beg like that. It - I don't know, I think maybe it scared him."

"It didn't scare you?" you say gently. The smile that Tim gives you is pained and frail.

"It terrified me so much that I swear to god my heart started to beat again for the first time," he whispers, curling against you so that he can press his face to your neck and feel your pulse against his tongue. 

"Oh, my love," you offer gently, curling your fingers in his hair as you pull him closer. He laughs a bit wetly and pulls away from you just enough to look down at you again, smoothing his hands over your hips to pull you closer on his lap.

"But, you know, I…" Tim pauses as he cocks his head to the side and you watch as the thoughts roll through his mind. "I think, maybe, he… I don't know - maybe Bruce wanted me to, just a bit."

"What… what do you mean?" you ask, cautiously.

"Well, I - I don't think I'm a very good liar. I don't think there's much that really happens in this city that Bruce doesn't know about." Tim shrugs. You straighten as you stare at him.

"So you're saying he - what, he knew? The whole time?"

"I don't - I don't really know. I'll probably never know for sure. Bruce doesn't -" He cuts himself off with an echoing sort of laugh. "He doesn't really share. But - I don't know… I feel like I saw something in him when I showed up with you. I feel like he was almost… proud." Tim shifts in his seat and looks out to the endless darkness of the cave. "I feel like he was proud of me, maybe, for going out and starting to lie. For… I - I don't know, maybe he was proud when I went out and started to become something beyond a shadow of this place."

"Tim, I'm -" you start, your heart flipping in your chest at his confession, at the earnest waver in his voice. 

"It's lucky, you know," he barrels on, like he can't stop all of it now that it's started, like he's split open his chest and cracked open his ribs and can't keep his unbeating heart contained anymore. "Bruce said that it's lucky, I mean. Because it's the full moon. It's - he said that if it was a different time in the cycle, if you hadn't been as strong, you wouldn't have…" He trails off, then, holding you tighter to his chest as he makes a choked, painful sort of sound somewhere in the back of his throat.

"But, I… I didn't" you offer gently, letting him hold you against him as tightly as he needs. "I didn't leave you. I wouldn't - I won't." Tim laughs a bit frantically, burying his face into your neck.

"What an odd thing," he murmurs, his voice muffled, "to belong in such a place."

"Yes," you agree, "but what a place to belong. What a place to call home."

"I don't think you should be here," you quip without looking back, and you hear a sigh in response before Tim breaks out into a jog to catch up to you where you're strolling down one of the endless, darkened sidewalks of Gotham. "It's too late - early. You don't have much time until the sun comes up."

"Was I close this time?" he asks rather sullenly. You pretend to think about it for a moment.

"I only caught you, hm… three blocks ago? Not bad," you shrug. He groans and reaches to tug you to him, holding you against his chest so that he can bury his face into your neck and nip at the delicate skin there with his fangs.

"I don't think you should be out right now," he murmurs gently and you sigh, patting him on the head.

"The new moon happens every month, Timmy," you placate softly. "I'll be ok."

"You're not at your strongest right now," he says in defence and you can't help but shrink a bit under his piercing, red gaze when he pulls his head back up to stare down at you. You don't look well, you know, the effects of being so far from the full moon wearing on you as the dark circles under your eyes grow and your hands tremble.

"It's only temporary," you offer soothingly, pulling him against you to let him wrap an arm around your shoulder as you continue walking down the cracked sidewalk. "It will pass. It always does." And it's true, you think as you step one foot in front of the other. It will pass, it will pass, it will pass. It always does. 

And it's made easier, of course, by the sturdy weight by your side and the arm that holds you so steady. It's made easier, somehow, by the fluttering of a bat's wings overhead and the looming, watchful gaze of a Vampire King. 

"Temporary," Tim huffs, grumbling under his breath. You reach for his hand so that you can tangle your warm fingers with his cold ones and press kisses to his knuckles.

"But you're here, right? Hm? What could possibly happen to me?" you ask teasingly.

"Nothing," Tim answers seriously, and you smile gently as you squeeze his fingers with your own. "Nothing. I'm here - always."

"Well, isn't that nice," you say, and you mean it. How nice, you think, to have something constant- something permanent, even as the world shifts and changes around you. How safe to have something so sturdy to fall back on. 

"I don't mind it, really," you continue as you tip your head back and look up at the empty, blackened sky. "It's just a part of it, you know. It comes… and it goes."

"Like… like all things, I suppose," Tim admits a bit stiffly. You offer him a loving smile.

"Like most things," you correct. "Not… not you. Not us."

"Never us," he responds quickly, his arm around you tightening as a cold breeze blows through and you shiver slightly. "Never us. I - I… I love you. And that's - I mean… that's as constant as anything can be."

And how odd, you think as you stop abruptly so that you can pull him in by his collar and kiss him, to find safety in the arms of a vampire. How strange to have the heart of your enemy pressed against yours and to feel it come back to life just so that it can beat in time with yours. 

How right it all feels… despite, despite, despite.

Because it's one thing, you suppose, to trust him when you're at your strongest. But it's another thing entirely, you think, to trust him at your weakest, to place your glittering heart into his undead hands and watch him hold it with tender care. 

How interesting, you think, to build a home in this of all things. But it is home, you consider as he presses his cold lips against yours and holds you ever so gently against a darkened alley wall. And the home that you build is found where you least expect it sometimes.

Home is the open blue sky and the full moon hanging in it. Home is deciding where you belong and carving a space for yourself into the night. Home is the crisp, cold air of a cursed, tangled city that never sleeps and never really dies.

[whorediaries-09]

ok so i had a thought, i want to write this but im not sure if its good, what if reader was like no. 1 ambassador of hookup culture and remus was an old-school hopeless romantic and these two would be like best friends and remus would like take her home while she's drunk and everything and one day they both just talk really flirtily while being tipsy and kiss on the road and fuck and start to date but then remus gets insecure abt whether reader thinks he's just a fling but then reader tell him i love you while being piss-drunk and vomits on his jacket right after and he just knows it was meant to be?

wolfstar variant you say?

burning flames or paradise;

pairing- remus lupin x reader warning(s)- hurt/comfort, substances. a/n- i left out the vomiting part cause it kind of gives me the icks. sorry!

little train.

'you didn't kiss me,' you say, pouting your lips. the taste of cherry wine lingers on your tongue. his amber eyes stare into yours, hot breathe craning your neck. amongst the drunk giggles of your friends and the party background, your ears stay perked solely for his words.

'you're too drunk,' he says, half bored, half bemused. it was no tell tale or word of mouth that you were flirty with literally everyone. the 'femme fatale'. the 'brand ambassador of hookup culture'. those were the nicknames that were notoriously famous for you during your school days.

but not once had you ever flirted with him. until tonight, when the cherry wine was high on your tongue, your words not in your control. he tried to reach out for the glass in your hands. you laughed, the sound contagious as always, pulling the glass away from his reach. he watches the liquid swirl before he stares into the glossiness of your eyes.

'won't you kiss me, lupin?' he shakes his head.

'why should i kiss you?'

you flatter your eyelashes, puckering your lips. as if asking for something. he's afraid he's way too sure about what you want.

and he might have just given it to you if you weren't so pissed drunk.

'because you don't actually want me to kiss you.'

you put the glass on the table. resting your back on the pillar behind you. he walks closer to you, so that he can hear you over the barring noise of the speaker.

'i think, lupin, its rather the other way around. its you who doesn't want to kiss me. you treat your mouth as if it's heaven's gate,'

'why should i kiss you anyways?' he asked. 'i don't remember us being in a relationship of that sort.'

you stick out your tongue, blowing a raspberry at him.

'at least take me home?'

*-

the lights in your apartment are revolting and far too loud. the dopamine of last night still lingers. so does the ever present feeling of headache after a lot too many drinks. you rush through the drawers of your nightstand, searching for painkillers. otherwise you fear, you might just burst your head.

your eyes fall on a glass full of water, a coaster used as a lid to cover it. on top, there's a sachet of pills and a note with scribbled with a handwriting you recognize all too well.

you take the pills, sliding the note from between the wood and the glass.

'you fell asleep by the time i brought you home. take these pills. i know you'll need them.- love, lupin.'

the sunlight filtered through your curtains. a strange figment of fear crossed your heart, boiling it with trepid heat. you realized you'd fallen for your friend a few weeks ago-at least had a little crush on him.

you took the pills, chugging down the water. your drunk memories flashed in your head like a film. the faded memory of you asking him for a kiss popped in your mind. so did the one with him declining the offer.

did you mess up your friendship? god you hated yourself.

you crammed your face into the pillow, muffling your scream.

*-

remus was surprised when he found you at your doorstep, wearing the scarf he'd knitted you on your birthday, flowers in your hand. and his favorite kind of chocolates.

'hi,'

'you should've said you were coming! i would've cleaned up...'

'come on you fold your socks, lupin. what are you on about?'

he smiled, an awkward curl of his lips. you leaned against the doorway. the smell of soup was distinct, stains on his apron visible. you noticed he wasn't wearing a t-shirt. just an apron. your eyes fell on scars on his shoulders, each telling a tale. some terrible, some horribly terrible.

'so you're just gonna stare at me or?'

fuck, you got distracted.

'you didn't ask me in,'

'you know you don't need to be asked in,' he said, moving as your footsteps faltered on his carpeted floor.

'what are you cooking?'

'sweet corn soup and some toast. didn't feel like making much,'

'lupin, that'll be my 5-star michelin cuisine if i had the energy to make that. now these, are for you,'

'for the record, you take your whiskey neat. and you take your coffee black at three. and what for?'

'you're drunk on life, and i think that's great. and these are as an...apology.'

he walked to the kitchen, turning off the stove.

'an apology...for what exactly?'

'oh, you know because i asked you to kiss me,'

'you asked me to kiss you. you didn't force me.' he says, sitting down beside you. there's a pregnant pause before you keep your hand on his thigh, letting your touch linger.

'it's okay,' he whispers. 'you were drunk.'

'i wasn't. i take my whiskey neat. a little bit of cherry wine does nothing to me.' he chuckles.

'you were piss drunk. you fell asleep on the way home! i had to call a cab midway.'

'accusations accusations,'

'are they?'

you stay silent. you let the charge in the air linger. you let embrace you, entangle you in its ruins. your eyes travel to his face. his dusty blonde hair tangled across his face. lips chapped, pale skin rosy with the bits of chilly air of autumn.

'why didn't you kiss me?'

'what?'

'i said, why didn't you kiss me?' your grip tightens around his thigh. 'i really like you, you know?'

'come on, don't be a bitter liar.'

'i'm not lying.'

he neared your face, hot breathe scanning your face.

'i would love to kiss you,' his hand cradles your cheek, finger on your lip, 'taste these beautiful, soft lips. but i'm afraid, i can't. i can't be a fling for you,'

'who says,' you whisper, nearing his face, touching your forehead with his. 'that you're a fling. i'm not lying. i really do like you. hell have you seen me hooking up with anyone recently? i do like you. just trust me, for once.'

'hopefully,' he says brushing his lips against yours, 'i can.'

'you can,' you confirm, thrusting your lips against him, your tongue loitering in his mouth, tasting him.

he really did treat his mouth like it was heaven's gate.

****************************************

taglist - @reggieisfit @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @jamespottergf @eternallybipanicking @fictional-magic @iamgayforyourmom1510

(if you want to be tagged please send a request through my inbox.)

****************************************

[kdwg]

Medicine Pocket x Reader : “Isn't it good to be a dog?”

i wrote this at 1.4 China sever, I know Medicine Pocket here might be ooc, i didnt know Chinese, everything i knew abt Medipoc through using ggl translate their story. MediPoc in my fic using he/him pronouns (in game Medicine Pocket said i can call whatever pronouns i want for him so...)

---English Version---

Medicine Pocket finds you very annoying. He doesn't know if it's because of all the drugs he's taken recently, making your baseless babbling deafening. “Like a fly”, that's what Medicine Pocket bluntly told you, unfortunately you didn't even bother and continued to cling to him like a horseshoe crab.

Today is even more so, Medicine Pocket is almost drowning in a sea of ​​reports, dense numbers filling the mind, and even reprimands and reminders from sources above, even, one must say, Medicine, who had always ignored public opinion, was now exhausted as his brain was constantly repeating the cruel and disdainful judgments of some of the researchers who had chatted in the kitchen a few minutes ago. I don't want to pay attention, but somehow people always pay attention to how others comment on them. Medicine sighed, he raised his hand to rub his temple very roughly, threw the pile of papers on the table, he slid off the chair and lay on the floor. Closing his eyes, feeling the darkness weakly trying to cover itself in the bright light, he wondered where you were now? Honestly, sometimes listening to you talk silly is more entertaining than having a very social and fake conversation with a co-worker. You've warned him so many times, so many times that just by remembering it, he can see the image of you angrily waving your index finger to remind him that no matter how much he hates people, he can't call them assholes, then step on their foot and leave.

“Hey, what do you think?”

Medicine was startled from the impending sleep. Seeing your appearance, he was a bit surprised. Medicine didn't respond and simply looked at you with wide eyes.

“What's wrong, did you fall asleep?”

You were a bit confused when you asked two questions but still no scolding to kick you out of the room was uttered.

Medicine lay half on the floor, his upper body raised, looking at you in bewilderment like a puppy that had just met its owner a few times. You tilted your head to survey the situation. Could Medicine have tested something strange on himself again?

“Medi?”

"Yes?"

You walked closer and crouched down to Medicine's level. The eyes are still normal, the skin is a bit pale, the lips are not pale, overall you can evaluate Medicine as being fine.

“Give me your hand.”

You spread your hands. Without hesitation Medicine Pocket placed your hand on it, you took off his gloves trying to find something unusual, but everything was fine, the temperature remained stable and the warmth of his skin made you feel strong. The heat in the room also gradually increased. You gently squeezed his hand. When you raised your head, you still met his dreamy eyes from before. You couldn't help but giggle, breaking the silence:

“Are you a dog?”

Medicine was silent for a few seconds, he looked away from your face and then shifted his gaze down to the five fingers embracing his hand. His eyebrows furrowed thoughtfully, he really took it as a serious question. Medicine stroked his chin and sighed softly and answered without any excitement:

“Isn't it good to be a dog?”

This time you couldn't stop yourself from laughing out loud, oh my god, what were you thinking? You reached out with your other hand to pinch Medicine's nose. Instinctively, he angrily glared at you and coldly pushed your hand away:

“Don't laugh.”

“Why do you think like that?”

“See if I were a dog, everyone would definitely love me. I also won't have to find a way to please anyone, not to mention I'll be very cute.”

“You've always been cute.”

You wrapped your arms around Medicine's neck, this time he didn't pull away, he let you bury your face in the crook of his neck. Medicine Pocket does not have the scent you like, on the contrary, it is very unpleasant to smell, but it sticks to him for so long that the smell of antiseptic and rubber soon becomes an indispensable part of his daily life.

Medicine felt itchy when you whispered under his throat, he felt your warm breath stick to his skin, it was so annoying that he couldn't stop.

“What's wrong, does this great scientist care about what other people say?”

Whenever he gets caught talking about something, Medicine tends to react violently and deny it, but when it comes to you, he simply stays silent, indifferently avoiding your gaze. This time too, you didn't get his answer. You raised your head to look for his eyes, but Medicine looked at you. It's a look of boredom and acknowledgment, somewhere a little sulky, indicating why you haven't pampered or comforted her yet. “It's no different than a puppy that forgets to be petted.” That's the first thought that pops into your head. You leaned forward, your hands cupping Medicine's face, gently placing light kisses on his cheeks.

Medicine still didn't seem very satisfied, his ten fingertips wrapped around your hand, his eyelashes drooped down in a state of confusion, he tried not to look into your eyes but in the end he couldn't resist. Medicine remembers the words that want to be buried deep in the throat:

“Do you think like them?”

Your two noses touch, you smile:

“Of course not, if talking to them makes you feel that bad then just step on their toes and leave.”

“You call them stupid?”

“They deserve it.”

Medicine Pocket let out a dramatic sigh. After that, he kisses you.

---Vietnamese Version---

Medicine Pocket cảm thấy bạn rất phiền phức, anh không biết có phải do đống thuốc bản thân vạ miệng uống gần đây khiến những lời lảm nhảm vô căn cứ của bạn làm đinh tai nhức óc. “Như một con nhặng”, đó là điều Medicine Pocket đã thẳng thừng nói với bạn, tiếc rằng bạn còn chẳng bận lòng mà tiếp tục bám lấy anh như sam.

Hôm nay còn hơn cả vậy, Medicine Pocket gần như chìm trong biển báo cáo, những con số dày đặc lấp đầy tâm trí, và cả những lời khiển trách nhắc nhở từ những nguồn chi phía trên, thậm chí, một người phải nói là luôn bỏ ngoài tai dư luận như Medicine giờ đây cũng mệt nhoài khi bộ não của anh đang liên tục lặp lại sự phán xét coi thường ác ý của một số các nhà nghiên cứu đã tán gẫu ở nhà bếp mấy phút trước. Anh không muốn để tâm, song con người một phần nào đó luôn chú ý về việc người khác bình phẩm mình ra sao. Medicine thở dài, anh đưa tay lên day thái dương hết sức thô bạo, ném đống giấy lộn lên bàn, anh trượt khỏi ghế và nằm dài trên sàn. Nhắm mắt lại, cảm nhận bóng tối yếu ớt cố gắng bao trùm trong ánh đèn sáng chói, anh tự hỏi bây giờ bạn đang ở đâu? Thành thật mà nói, đôi khi nghe bạn nói ngớ ngẩn còn giải trí hơn là có một cuộc trò chuyện hết sức xã giao và giả tạo với đồng nghiệp. Bạn đã dặn dò anh rất nhiều lần, nhiều đến mức chỉ cần nhớ lại anh có thể thấy hình ảnh bạn cáu kỉnh vung ngón trỏ nhắc dù anh có ghét người ta đến mức nào cũng không thể bảo họ là thằng lỗ đít, rồi dẫm vào chân và bỏ đi.

“Này, em nghĩ gì đấy?”

Medicine giật mình khỏi giấc ngủ sắp ập đến. Thấy sự xuất hiện của bạn, anh có chút ngỡ ngàng thái quá, Medicine không đáp đơn giản chỉ tròn mắt nhìn bạn.

“Sao thế, em ngủ quên à?”

Bạn có chút bối rối khi hỏi đến hai câu mà vẫn chưa có lời mắng mỏ đòi đuổi bạn ra khỏi phòng được thốt ra.

Medicine nằm nửa người trên sàn, thân trên nâng lên ngơ ngác nhìn bạn hệt như một con cún mới gặp chủ vài lần. Bạn nghiêng đầu dò xét tình hình, Medicine không lẽ lại tự thử nghiệm thứ gì kì quặc lên bản thân nữa rồi?

“Medi?”

“Vâng?”

Bạn tiến lại gần và cúi xuống ngang tầm với Medicine. Tròng mắt vẫn bình thường, da hơi nhợt nhạt, môi không tái, xét về tổng thể bạn có thể đánh giá Medicine vẫn ổn.

“Đưa tay cho chị.”

Bạn xòe tay. Không chần chừ Medicine Pocket đặt bàn tay lên, bạn cởi găng tay anh cố gắng tìm kiếm một điểm bất thường, song tất cả mọi thứ đều ổn thỏa, nhiệt độ vẫn ổn định và hơi ấm từ da thịt anh khiến bạn cảm thấy sức nóng căn phòng cũng dần tăng lên. Bạn siết nhẹ tay anh, khi bạn ngẩng đầu lên vẫn chạm phải ánh mắt mơ màng ban nãy, bạn không nhịn nổi mà bật cười khúc khích phá vỡ khoảng lặng:

“Em có phải là chó không?”

Medicine im lặng vài giây, anh hết nhìn vào khuôn mặt bạn lại chuyển tầm mắt xuống năm ngón tay đang ôm trọn lấy bàn tay mình. Đôi lông mày anh nhíu lại đầy nghiền ngẫm, anh thực sự coi đó là một câu hỏi nghiêm túc, Medicine vuốt cằm khẽ thở dài trả lời không một chút hào hứng:

“Là chó thì không tốt sao?”

Lần này bạn không thể ngăn được mình cười thành tiếng, ôi trời suy nghĩ gì thế này, bạn đưa tay còn lại véo mũi Medicine. Theo bản năng, anh cáu kỉnh lườm bạn và lạnh lùng gạt tay bạn ra:

“Đừng có cười.”

“Tại sao em lại suy nghĩ như vậy?”

“Chị xem nếu là chó, mọi người chắc hẳn sẽ rất yêu quý tôi. Tôi cũng sẽ không phải tìm cách để làm hài lòng bất kì ai, chưa kể tôi sẽ rất dễ thương.”

“Em luôn dễ thương mà.”

Bạn vòng tay qua cổ Medicine, lần này anh không gạt ra, anh để bạn vùi mặt vào hõm cổ anh. Medicine Pocket không có mùi hương bạn thích, trái lại còn rất khó ngửi, nhưng bám dính lấy anh lâu đến nỗi mùi thuốc sát trùng và cao su sớm trở thành thứ không thể thiếu hàng ngày của bản thân.

Medicine thấy ngứa ngáy khi bạn thủ thỉ dưới vòm họng, anh có cảm nhận được hơi thở ấm áp của bạn dính vào da thịt mình, vô cùng phiền phức đến nỗi không thể dứt nổi.

“Sao thế, nhà khoa học đại tài nay lại để ý đến người khác nói gì sao?”

Mỗi khi bị bắt thóp chuyện gì, Medicine thường có xu hướng phản ứng dữ dội phủ nhận nó, nhưng nếu với bạn, anh chỉ đơn giản là im lặng, thờ ơ né tránh cái nhìn bạn. Lần này cũng vậy, bạn không nhận được câu trả lời của anh, bạn ngẩng đầu để kiếm tìm đôi mắt anh, nhưng Medicine nhìn bạn. Đó là ánh mắt chán chường và thừa nhận, đâu đó có chút hờn dỗi ra ý rằng sao bạn còn chưa nuông chiều, an ủi mau mau đi. “Không khác gì một con cún con quên được vuốt ve.” Đó là suy nghĩ nảy lên đầu tiên trong đầu bạn. Bạn dướn người, bàn tay ôm lấy khuôn mặt Medicine, nhẹ nhàng đặt những nụ hôn phớt lên má.

Medicine có vẻ vẫn chưa hài lòng lắm, mười đầu ngón tay của anh bao bọc lấy bàn tay bạn, lông mi cụp xuống hết sức thất thểu, anh định không nhìn vào mắt bạn song cuối cùng không cưỡng lại nổi. Medicine lí nhỉ những câu từ muốn chôn sâu dưới cuống họng:

“Chị có nghĩ như họ không?”

Mũi hai người chạm nhau, bạn mỉm cười:

“Đương nhiên là không, nếu nói chuyện với họ khiến em cảm thấy tệ như vậy thì cứ dẫm vào chân họ rồi bỏ đi.”

“Em chửi họ là đồ ngu?”

“Họ xứng đáng.”

Medicine Pocket thở dài một cái hết sức kịch tính. Sau đó, anh hôn bạn.

[skyesdaisys]

Hi! Love your work, could you write a dick Grayson fanfic abt him and a quiet female reader warming up to each other (set between season 1 and 2)?

yes, of course!!!! god, i've wanted to write for titans on here so bad i just didn't have the inspo so thank you<333

—

talk to him

titans dick grayson x fem!reader

sunmary: you weren't exactly much of a people person. especially since you were 1 of 2 adults living in a huge tower in san francisco, watching over 3 kids you don't really talk to outside of training. and the only other adult being closed off so who knows what'll happen when he decides to talk to you out of no where

cw: not much, there's just some fluff with a teaspoon of angst because of communication issues (they both suck at small talk and beyond)

a/n: idc what anyone says about this show, it's given me so much comfort and a lot of fun and likable characters. so i'm so glad i can write for them as long as you guys send requests for them. as well as other characters from other shows like yellowjackets and etc. also i love dick grayson, even though he can be a bit annoying in this show (that i can admit) but he's hot so ajsjfndmfmf. also, i'm sorry it took sooooo long, writers block got to me badly these past few months, so i apologize if it's cringey and awkward. but i do give the benefit the doubt here because this story is suppose to be like that (also the fact i'm projecting my "bad at small talk" trait here). two grown adults that can't seem to have a normal conversation, like at all

after the trigon incident you were dragged in by circumstance, you were the only other adult to volunteer to help dick with... whatever he was doing. you didn't have any life to go back to anyways, and you made a connection to everyone else so why part ways and it be unlikely to see them again. sure, you weren't particularly close with the kids, but, what are you supposed to do in order to bond with them? so that left dick in titans tower, but he wasn't as much of a talker as you outside of training.

everyday for the past few weeks have been, eat, train, sleep, repeat on a loop, no 'how was your day' questions, because the days are always the same so there wasn't any point of asking. and you could tell the kids were getting bored of it, very fast, and you could not blame them. being stuck in a repeating pattern with nothing else happening started getting old after the first couple weeks. so, you didn't really know how long it would take til something changed, it couldn't be like this forever.

during this time, you admired the grayson from afar, he was attractive, what else could you say? you weren't an idiot. and you also were aware of his previous entanglements with kory and you didn't wanna be involved in that. and, well... you felt like a teenage girl having a crush on a guy who was going through some shit, so it was better not to bother him.

and not being much of a talker doesn't make the conversation about feelings be any better. like, maybe this was attraction and nothing more? you were aware of the difference between liking someone physically and liking them emotionally (specifically in a romantic sense). but even as you admired him, you learn things about him, paying attention to the little things. deep down, he cared for other people, if he didn't, he wouldn't have taken rachel in and helped her, and he wouldn't have done the same for gar or jason either. people just have their own way of showing their love and care.

but your admiring wasn't exactly subtle. rachel had noticed it when you were looking at dick from across the room, talking with jason. the roth wasn't sugarcoating anything when it came to this, "you keep staring, you're probably gonna be capable of shooting lazers from your eyes." and you knew she was joking around but she caught you by surprise, making you face the young girl. "why is it any of your business?"

"because it's kind of sad seeing you pine for him like this." she points out, "and also, gar and jason made a bet whether or not you'd confess. we have eyes, you know?" and she lightly bumped your shoulder with hers with a smile on her face, "and i'm sure dick feels the same way, though he's not very good of showing it."

"that is ridiculous." you shake your head, "one, i don't like him. not like that. i just think he's cool."

"are you sure about that?" the roth rose her eyebrow, "talk to him." but you were not moving from where you were so rachel decided to take matters into her own hands, she then gave you a push (a literal one) towards him, and now you couldn't run away. all you could say was, "hey..."

"hey." he responded. jason just stood there awkwardly in between the two of you, "okay, well uh—" he pretends to look at a watch that's not even on his wrist, "look at the time, i must be going." and he had immediately ran out of there before dick tried to stop him. there was an silent pause and you were trying to figure out what to say, but before you could, he asks, "do you want some coffee?" all you did was nod. after that, there was even more silence, you two haven't had a conversation that wasn't training related in like, a while. it just felt like you were both strangers who didn't know each other nor were you fond of one another.

"you're just as bad at small talk as i am, huh?" you finally had spoken up. and dick just shook his head, "i don't know what you're talking about, i know how to make small talk."

"oh really?" you rose up your eyebrow, "okay mr. 'i know how to make small talk', what do you wanna talk about? and please, don't let it be training related. because if i have to hear you talk about that one more time, my head is gonna explode." you tried to look irritated, but he could notice a small smile on your face. then he immediately went into the 'deep, emotional' stuff, "you never told me why you came here. you just did, and i'm surprised you stuck around as long as you have."

you answered it anyway, because why not, "well, it's not like i have anywhere else to go." you set down your drink, making direct eye contact at him, "besides, the second i got here, and realized how big this place is and i have my own room... what, did you expect me to pass it up?" and you ended up making him laugh, which was surprising, "what is so funny, i'm just being honest." you were unsure why he was laughing, so you just took a sip of your coffee. he explained, "your honesty is refreshing, that's all."

"really?" and he nodded as a reply. you just sighed, taking your coffee and leaving. it's not like you had anything else to talk about and just sitting there would make it more awkward, so you just left. does it make it any less weird? absolutely not.

you guys didn't talk much after in the next few days, up until you decided to play hero on solo when you see a woman getting mugged by this guy in a mask. it was like one of the many movie cliches that you see brought into reality.

too bad it didn't turn out like expected, where you got shot in the leg. thankfully, the kids were able to track you down and bring you to the infirmary, gar was trying his best to patch you up and rachel was there for emotional support. as for jason... there wasn't much else he can do than just stand watch, up until dick had walked in with a worried expression, and the three teens immediately rushed out of there as soon as he walked in the room. you could've left if you wanted too but, obviously you couldn't.

"jesus fuck, you could've gotten yourself killed, what were you thinking?" all of his emotions were being let out in that moment, it was the most emotion you've seen him express towards you in like... ever. yet you couldn't help but be a bit sarcastic, "yeah, keep yelling... it's not like i'm literally a few feet away from you or whatever."

dick sat on the edge of the bed and started to explain, "sorry, it's just... when i heard what happened, i didn't know how to feel, or express it correctly." he gently set his hand on your injured leg, softly, "just if anything happened to you, i—"

"i'm tougher than you think, grayson." you reassured him, and you noticed a tiny smile creeping up on his face.

"i know it's just... i don't wanna lose anyone else."

you lean up a bit to set your hand on his shoulder, "i'm not going anywhere, dick." you then stopped for a second as you come to realize, "and we just had a conversation that didn't involve small talk. maybe i should get myself hurt more often." you were obviously joking at that last part, but dick's reaction to it was priceless, "i'm kidding. you are just... not what i expected."

"the feeling is mutual."

a part of you wanted to kiss him, that it felt right, but another part was saying how the timing of it all wasn't. and maybe these feelings you're having are actually real. because now, there was something in your heart that was growing that wasn't just admiration, and it felt weird, but a good weird.

maybe when the timing is right, they'll get to it, but until then, your growing friendship in the moment is enough for now.

[tree0frog]

hiya!! i was wondering if i could ask for rosie, lucifer, charlie, and angel with a teen reader who’s always very sweet, charismatic, and soft spoken, but suffers with a sad past:(

it’s a wonder to everyone why she’s in hell in the first place, she never talks about her life back when she was alive

one day *character* walks in on reader having a ptsd induced panic attack, once reader calms down, for the first time ever she opens up about her past life. her dad abandoned her at a young age, her mom committed suicide, then the man who adopted her when she was 13 just abused her and pimped her out to his friends until she killed him n ran away for the sake of her own survival which was the sin that landed her in hell:/ something additional is the panic attacked being caused because reader ran into her abuser, even in death she can’t escape him.

also all characters have a platonic relationship with reader ofc, rosies like a mom, charlie and angel are like a big brother and sister, and lucifer is an eventual dad figure, reader being the one who changes his mind abt sinners

p.s this isn’t based on irl or anything (thank god) it’s just kinda an oc request but i understand if it still makes u uncomfy that rlly isn’t my intention:(

hi so sorry this took so long i wasn't sure how to write this so I do apologies if this is wrong by any means!!

tw~hell breaks down blood swearing self-harm Abuice

You were the youngest siner within the hotel it sadden some of them{mainly Charlie} that you were down here so young, the group had learned that you didn't want to talk about why you ended in hell and respected it.

that was until

Charlie

now i see charlie as someone who as much as she wanted to help you can be she will end up crying along beside you even if you don't know why she is crying she is.

loves hugs as a form of comfort but will understand that sometimes they can be too much for you and will settle for just sitting beside you if you let her.

She will play music if you write to her.

and will help you clean up any mess that you may of made from yourself or by slowly messing up your room.

is a good listener and will let you draw or write how you are felling if you are not up for talking.

Rosie

omg she is the best out of them all!!

if you have hurt yourself before when you are having an episode she will sit with you and hold your hands or remove anything that she thinks you could use to hurt yourself or someone else away from your reach.

will give you tea and let me tell you she makes the best tea.

she will play classical music to calm the vibe down and tell you it's alright and not your fault.

the best advice you will ever get is from this lady trust me.

she would kill for you and you know that.

Angle

i feel like he would go two ways

one leave you alone and go work out how to talk to a crying kid

or OR he would pick you up and give you the best hugs and tell you its ok

now I fell like out of everyone he would make you fell the most better about the other sinners as he isn't hell-born like the others you know.

best comfort

he knows what it's like to deal with shitty people and knows a little of what you're going though

he seems himself in you.

will let you cuddle him until you fall asleep

and will let you sleep over on those harder nights.

Lucifer

ohoho the big man well let me just say one word

DUCKS!!!!!!!!

he will make you a duck every time you are having a hard time or just cos he can you know

if he finds out your mother is in hell we she would of wished the angles got to her first

and see you as his second child.

he will let you put his hat on

if you end up hurting yourself he will kiss each cut, bump, bruise or scrap better.

will play the violin and sing you to sleep.

[amarylliasky]

Aaand number 1 is a sorta crack au post?

Au: Everyone’s a Regressor!

- Just what the title says. Everyone (except the villains ofc) is a regressor. Including Cale. Who just happens to be a regressor, transmigrator, and reincarnator. Basically the same plot of Cale lived his first life in tboah and then reincarnated as krs before regressing and transmigrating into his original body after dying as krs. Plot twist though, most everyone else is also a regressor and he has no idea. He has memories of his first and second lives. Including the novel he read before he died, and doesn’t know why everyone is acting so different from what he knows!

- Why is his family being so nice and talking to him?! Why is Ron giving him so much lemonade?! Why does that Punk Choi Han act like he knows him already?! He and Ron and Beacrox know each other?! When did they meet this early?! Who are all these people in his house?!

- Okay? So his father is reinforcing the walls and they are making a navy in the Ubarr territory??? This is great. The heroes and his family are preparing for the war and he doesn’t even have to lift a finger!

- He does still carry out his plans though. Getting the ancient powers, saving Raon and coincidentally finding On and Hong, and helping Taylor and Cage. Speaking of which, Taylor stops his search for the vitality of the heart and just relaxes in Puzzle city with Cage for a bit before they meet Cale. Of course, the god of death still tells Cage abt the benefactor, who was not present in their past life. Cage is shocked to hear from the one who abandoned them in the last life, but still listens to him for Taylor’s sake.

- Deruth doesn’t want to send either of his sons this time, but he is shocked when Cale offers to go. Despite both his parents and Basen trying to deter him, he convinces them to let him go. They agree, only because Choi Han and the Molan duo will accompany him. Deruth doesn’t like the idea sending the person who beat his son to protect him. Much less the ones who betrayed his son to go off and play hero with the offender; but he knows how strong they are. If anyone can keep Cale safe, it’s them.

- Choi Han doesn’t hate Cale, but he doesn’t really like him either. He’s come to respect the younger during the time they spent as allies during the war, but the Cale right now hasn’t faced his future tragedy yet. He’s still young and immature, and acts like trash….right..? Wait- not right?! What is with this kid? Why does he act so different from before?! By all means, he should still be trash, soo why is he acting completely different from their past life? And why does he know things he shouldn’t know at this point in time? Or any point in time for that matter?

- He doesn’t seem to remember their life before, so why is he acting so strange?

- Cale is just trying to make it seem like he doesn’t know half these people so he won’t look suspicious, but why is everyone acting like they know him? He knows he’s never met the crown prince in this life, so what’s with that melancholy look?

- Meanwhile, Choi Han is just trying to find a way to find Rosalyn and Lock without seeming too suspicious. Luckily, Cale sent him away first.

- The vow of death never happens.

- “ I can’t tell you everything, but I can share two truths.” “Oh, there’s no need Cale-nim. I trust you.”

‘Wha..? How can you trust me? We’ve only known each other for a few weeks.’ “Don’t you want information on that secret organization?”

“It’s alright, Cale-nim. I’m sure we’ll run into them again soon.”

‘This punk…Does he know something?’ “Choi Han, do you know something about them?”

‘That’s not possible. Choi Han should have only encountered them once by this point.’

“No. I. Don’t. Know. What. You. Are. Talking. About.” ….

‘Was Choi Han always such a bad liar..?’

- Cale doesn’t get the annual rings right away. Why? Idk, consistency with Tcf plot?

- Everyone knows that everyone has regressed except Cale. Bc it’s funnier that way.

- So we got all his family members tiptoeing around him, trying to see if he remembers but also trying not to jog his memory if he doesn’t. They know the last life hurt him and they don’t want him to have to carry the burden of their deaths. (He does. And he’s not gonna make the same mistake twice).

- The Radish is still a hassle to deal with. Obviously they didn’t see all his powers from the last life as they were completely overwhelmed by the enemies, but with Cale’s help and their experience from the past, they are much stronger and more prepared. By the time the Indomitable alliance comes to the Henituse territory, there are even more secret weapons coming out of the woodworks. Seriously, the enemies are so confused. So is Cale. So is everyone else. Clopeh never stood a chance. It’s like the pointing Spiderman meme. And the enemies are a bonfire in the middle; being reduced to ashes while everyone else is being stunned by each other’s collective strength.

- The only enemy they have a bit of trouble with is the White Star. Not because he’s too strong, no, he’s already no match for Choi Han, Rosalyn, and Lock fighting against him altogether, but with the aid of Eruhaben, they now know that he’s a reincarnator. They have no idea how to kill him for good.

- So basically, they keep encountering him and injuring him further while trying not to actually kill him. Of course, that’s not to say that the rest of the WS allies are a joke, rather, they are just slightly challenging as literally everyone in the two continents speed runs getting stronger to prepare to combat his forces.

- To make it even more fun, none of the enemies retain their memories. Also, the citizens are random on who has memories of their past. Some do, some don’t. It creates chaos.

- Adventurer Bob remembers his past life where he died on his first adventure. He doesn’t know how he came back to the past, but he’s determined to use his knowledge of the future to his advantage! (What knowledge? Bro literally died on his first expedition).

- A middle aged baker in Rain City vows to live his life to the fullest this time! He’s going to build a Wyvern bunker! He’s going to save up funds! And he’s going to make up with his daughter who ran away to become a sword master! He’ll support her all the way this time. They may not be enough, but even if she doesn’t reach that level, who is he to stunt her only chance at survival in the upcoming war?

- Rookie Knight Jeffron has had quite a strange day. He woke up only to hear three of his comrades spouting nonsense about wars and fire and wyverns..? Just what is a wyvern? Must have been quite the nightmare. Psssh! As if! The Henituse territory would never fall to enemy soldiers! And attacking from the sky? Yeah right! What’s next? The Sun god accepts the darkness attribute? Hah! Jokes these days…

- Really, half the city seems to have had too much to drink. Or too little…? What has happened to Young Master Cale?! Some citizens could have sworn he had still been trash in the past. So what has happened to make their young master change so much? He doesn’t seem like he remembers? He doesn’t…right?