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thisgirlnamedblusy · 2 days ago

Note

Can i ask for insecure reader x Donna?? Maybe before reader met Donna, the girls in the village teased her about her looks because they were jealous of her beauty. Reader can't believe that someone like Donna would like her. She notices that the reader cries every night and can't stand the sight of it so confronts reader.

Can it be a smut???

Yesss!!!! Thank you for request!!! I hope you like and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :))))

P.S: To the anon who made a question to me yesterday. I'm sorry, I deleted your question by mistake but I remember it so:

To the question "what does G!P mean?" Well, I know it's not well written, yk, maybe GP! (girl penis) sounds more familiar to you.

Idk why I always write it like this. I made a mistake once but I didn't fix it. I guess I like it that way, like my own style or smth. I hope I've solved you doubt, take care of yourself!!!

Beautiful?

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Smut, Minors DNI, fluff, angst, hurt and comfort, hurtful mockery

Word count: 8,162

Summary: You've started to think they were always right about your ugliness

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

“Hey, (Y/N),” you heard.

Behind you, putting a hand on your shoulder, was a young man you knew, one who always smiled when he saw you.

“H-Hi, Ivan,” you said with a shy smile, turning around. “Aren't you with your friends?”

“Well, I saw you pass by and I was wondering if…” the boy said, scratching the back of his neck. “Um… Have you tried Mrs. Grescu's apples?”

You smiled, shaking your head.

It had been a long time since someone approached you to talk and you weren't stupid, in that shy smile there was more than the innocent intention of spending time with you. Having some boy approach you was strange enough to notice that you weren't really interested.

“Not really,” you said with a friendly smile.

“Well, then you won't have any problem in…”

“Oh, Ivan, I was looking for you,” a girl who appeared from the shadows interrupted the boy, drawing your attention.

You had tried to stay away from her, from her and her friends, but, apparently, it hadn't been possible.

“Miriam?” he asked, frowning after the sudden approach of the young woman. “I was talking to…”

“Hey, aren't you bored? The party is over there,” she said, hanging on to the boy's arm, looking at you out of the corner of her eye.

“No, it's just that…” he stammered, being dragged by the girl while you stood, completely ignored in that remote corner.

“Hey, he was talking to me!” you protested, not because you actually liked that the boy seemed interested, you really didn't, but because you knew the way that girl acted.

“Surely the lack of light has confused him, hasn't it, handsome?” Miriam joked, blinking seductively, leaving the villager speechless and with a silly smile.

“Um... well, if you say so...” he murmured, looking at you for the last time before disappearing, leaving you, once again, alone.

You sighed and sat down on an old bench. That the meeting had been short shouldn't surprise you, they all were, thanks to them.

“Oh, wow, poor (Y/N),” a cocky voice startled you and your body began to shake.

Two girls appeared out of nowhere, pretending to pout. They weren't friends of yours, but they were acquaintances, unfortunately.

“Leave me alone,” you whispered, frowning and crossing your arms.

Trying to escape was already difficult enough, as they seemed to want to corner you.

“Are you enjoying your solitude?” one of them said with a sinister smile. “Well, I shouldn't be surprised that you like dark places, right, Alicia?”

“It's true, this place is made for you, (Y/N),” the other girl said, resting her arm on your shoulder mockingly. “A dark place, where no one can see you…”

“Why don't you just go away?” you asked, removing the hand and getting up from the bench. “Don't you have anything better to do?”

Alicia pushed on your shoulder, forcing you to sit back down among unpleasant laughs.

“Shhh, where do you think you're going?” she threatened, looking at her friend. “Do you think we like being here? No, (Y/N), we're doing altruistic work, right, Olga?”

“Yes, it's true,” her friend said, sitting next to you with a disgusted look. “Have you seen what time it is? There are still children on the streets and instead of having fun, we have to watch you.”

“That's good,” you whispered, starting to get nervous.

No, not again.

“If we let you go with the rest of the decent people, you could cause them a trauma,” Olga said. “With that face you could make even the lycans flee.”

You should have protested, been enraged by that insult, but you were used to it, too used to it.

“Well, Ivan isn't a lycan and he wanted to go for a walk with me,” you said with dark eyes, looking towards the snowy ground, trying, pathetically, to say something in your defense.

“Of course, because he can't see you well,” Alicia said, sighing and running a hand over your shoulders. “As soon as the light illuminated your shitty face, he would surely run away.”

“P-Please, leave me alone,” you stammered, with tears in your eyes, unable to escape from that horribly common situation.

“Please, please…” the girls mocked, pretending to pout. “Oh, are you going to cry?”

“She's going to cry,” Alicia mocked. “Spare us the suffering, (Y/N). I don't want to have nightmares.”

“Hey, come on Alicia, it's not okay to laugh at (Y/N), she has to look herself in the mirror every day,” the girl commented while you made an effort to keep the tears in your eyes.

“It's true...” she whispered, rolling her eyes. “Although I doubt she has mirrors in her house. What for?”

“Well, for her parents and...” the other girl commented, putting a hand on her lips. “Oh, sorry, you don't have parents, do you?”

You, wishing the ground would swallow you up, shook your head, starting to sob.

“Olga, don't be cruel,” Alicia said, getting up from the bench and gently hitting her friend. “What would you do if you had a daughter like her?”

“I would have probably wanted to die,” the girl replied cruelly. “What a shame...”

“Enough!” you shrieked, clenching your fists and abruptly. “Leave me alone!”

“Don't shout, stupid, your voice destroys my ears,” Alicia joked, covering her ears comically.

“Jeez... even her voice is horrible,” Olga protested while you began to tremble, letting the tears fall into the snow. “She's crying again, you're pathetic, (Y/N).”

“Pathetic and ugly,” the other added, nodding with her arms crossed. “Hey, do us a favor and go to your lair, monster.”

“Hey, look,” one of the girls said, hitting her friend's shoulder and pointing at something with her head.

The two looked at each other and gave you another mocking smile before moving away from you.

“Anyway… have fun, ugly,” they joked, walking away from you.

The silence was a relief, only broken by your sobs. Teasing had always been in your life. That trio of witches had always enjoyed torturing you, insulting you, and making you think that everything they said… was real. You could never understand what you had done to deserve those insults, to deserve the constant mockery that made your life a hell.

No matter how much you wanted to get away from them, even from the village itself. That was impossible. In that lost place, guarded by the Black Gods, there was no escape.

“Hello,” an unknown voice startled you, waking you up from that nightmare, from those tremors and tears.

You looked to one side, to the other… Nothing, you saw nothing. You thought that maybe you had gone crazy, that all the suffering was starting to take its toll on you, but that wasn’t the case. You looked down and couldn’t help but step back.

On the ground, illuminated by the dim light of a street lamp, was what at first seemed to be a girl, but in reality wasn’t.

Of course you were no stranger to the Lords or to Mother Miranda. Everyone in the village respected and feared them. You knew that figure, that sinister and almost dark smile: the Angie doll, inseparable companion of one of the four guardians of the village, of the youngest Lord: Donna Beneviento.

For a moment you thought about running away, but you froze. Of course, having a Lord so close, or well, part of one, wasn’t a good sign.

“What are you doing? Help me up,” the doll said, gesturing for you to sit her on the bench.

Afraid of the consequences of not doing so, you grabbed the puppet with a hesitant gesture and followed her order.

“That's it, well done, villager.”

“M-M-Miss Angie,” you murmured, wiping away your tears and lowering your head in a gesture of respect. “What are you doing here?”

“My Donna and I don't like crowds,” the doll answered, watching you from very close. “Hey, silly, silly, are you crying? Do I scare you that much?”

“N-No... it's just that... n-never mind,” you said, scared, but with the feeling that this puppet had nothing to do with the three girls who made your life miserable. “I-I don't like people very much either.”

“I see that,” Angie said, swinging her legs comically on the bench. “Why? You’re beautiful and you should be surrounded by stupid boys.”

At that comment, your eyes widened. No one, ever, had told you that you were beautiful, much less, someone like her.

“Beautiful? Me?” you asked confused, pointing at yourself. “No, I'm not…” you sighed, believing that, just like the girls, that doll was laughing at you.

“If you say so…” the puppet sighed. “Hey, hey, hey, silly, do you want to play?”

“What? Play?” you asked, shaking your head.

“Yes, that way we kill time for the festival to end,” the puppet suggested. “Do you know how to play chain words?”

“I-I think so,” you stammered. “S-Sorry, Miss Angie… it's just that I've never been so close to… someone… someone like you.”

“Well, you'll get used to it,” Angie whispered, getting a little closer, still looking at you. “Hey, lonely girl, I think my Donna would like you…”

Unintentionally, by chance, that meeting preceded by a horribly bitter moment was the beginning of your new life. The lady in black appeared shortly after to take her doll, who seemed to have escaped.

If Angie hadn't existed... well, none of that would have happened. The doll's insistence to its owner to meet you was a bit exaggerated, but... to your own surprise, it worked. You didn't know what that veiled lady had seen in you, but you didn't reject Angie's proposal to get to know her better.

You couldn't deny that you were afraid, you were, and very much so. Lady Beneviento was described by the village as an extremely dangerous, sick and unhinged woman, but... to you she didn't seem that way. It was impossible to know what was under that black cloth and hypotheses were always part of the village's rumors.

Despite that, it didn't take long for you to find things in common with that woman. She didn't seem like a ruthless creature but... a normal, ordinary woman, or at least, on the surface. A lover of art and literature, cultured, sensitive, intelligent... Donna was the opposite of what the rumors said.

She was a woman wounded by her past, consumed by the loneliness of her dilapidated mansion, but somehow, your presence made it not seem like that. Her voice, a voice that no one had ever heard before, rang out only for you on one of the afternoons you spent with her, drinking tea, like two unknown souls dying to know each other.

Everything happened so fast that you couldn't control it. Your feelings, the sensations you had when you were with her became overwhelming in a very short time. She wasn't laughing at you, she was nice to you. The monster that the rumors spoke of was, to you, an angel in a world of demons.

Her beauty was special, undeniable, stained by a scar that covered part of her face. Again, you could feel privileged to admire what was hidden, but you didn't have much time to do so, as her lips suddenly landed on yours, showing that Donna felt the same as you.

Everything seemed perfect, incredible. The relationship you started with Donna was a good reason to start leaving your past behind. You believed that this tangle of kisses, whispers of love, caresses, could tear down what seemed like an eternity of suffering.

In part it was like that, smiling was no longer too hard a job for you, but, to be honest, you didn't forget as much as you thought.

Sometimes those dark shadows came back. It didn't matter if it was day or night, those words echoed in your ears, preventing you from forgetting your complexes, those words that, after being too many years in your head, seemed like an immutable truth.

It wasn't strange that you wondered what that incredible woman was doing with you, what she could have seen in a horrible, ugly girl like you. Looking in the mirror, you came up with dark reasons for it. Maybe her complexes made her settle for the first girl who didn't run away, or simply, she felt better with someone uglier than her.

Deep down you knew it was nonsense, that none of the arguments your brain made were true but… after so much suffering, you just couldn't help but think it.

Two years later, that relationship continued. Donna was perfect, simply perfect, and you had a hard time understanding why perfection had set its sights on you, but it did, and the reasons mattered less and less to you.

You couldn't stop sadness and the past from coming back to attack you, causing you to cry in front of the mirror for no reason, looking at the reflection of what must have been… a monster.

Of course, your past remained hidden in the depths of your soul. You didn't want her to know about your misfortunes. You were afraid that, if she did, she would recognize that the love she felt for you was nothing but spite.

No, you couldn't tell her anything, you didn't want to worry her or expose your insecurities, besides there was no reason to do so anymore. In those two wonderful years, you didn't return to the village. You were convinced that, with time, you could stop crying.

“Hi,” you said with a slightly fake smile, erasing the tears from your face as you entered the workshop.

The lady in black didn't turn to look at you, but she made a loving gesture with her hand for you to come closer. You did, leaning down to kiss her cheek, to get that shy laugh that drove you crazy out of her lips.

“Mm, ciao, tesoro...” she whispered, turning her head so your lips crashed against hers, stealing a tender kiss from you. “Are you coming to keep me company?”

“Yes,” you said amused, enjoying the contact of her skin with yours, letting her hands grab your body, sitting you on her lap. “What are you doing?”

“Making dolls,” she said, looking back at the work table as you settled on her.

“Yes, I see,” you said amused. “Can I?” you asked, reaching out your hand to pick up the porcelain doll she offered you, looking at it lovingly. “It's very cool.”

“Grazie, (Y/N), but it's just like the others,” Donna said as you ran your fingers along the seams of that little dress. “Well, almost… Look, I decided to add some ruffles.”

“I gave you that idea,” you said with a sincere smile, sighing at the sight of the creation that came, in part, from your imagination. “What is she?”

“She's a fisherman's daughter,” she said, moving as she lovingly caressed your hair. “Look, see the little fish I embroidered on it?”

“Yeah, wow, that’s fabulous work, Donna,” you said, nodding in admiration at your girlfriend’s underappreciated work.

The lady smiled, looking at you, proud of your compliments, but that smile suddenly faded, bringing a hand to your chin and slowly lifting it.

“(Y/N), your eyes…” she murmured confused, studying your gaze.

“W-What's wrong with them? A-Are they ugly? Don't you like them?” you asked nervous, looking away from her.

You were starting to think that time would never heal your insecurities.

“Mm? Di che cosa stai parlando?” Donna asked, shaking her head. “Your eyes are beautiful, tesoro but… they're red… What's wrong? Have you been crying?” she asked with a worried tone.

“Oh, no, no,” you said, shaking your head effusively, rubbing your eyes. “It's just that… I think, I think I have an allergy to… to dust.”

“Allergy?” Donna questioned, frowning. “Really? W-Well, maybe I should hire a maid and…”

A maid? A beautiful girl in uniform working for Donna? A girl surely much more beautiful than you? A girl that the lady in black would notice, realizing that you were hideous? No, thank you.

“No,” you said abruptly, making her blink in confusion. “No, Donna, it will pass.”

She smiled, nodding.

“You're right, besides, I wouldn't like to have another girl in the house, you could fall in love with her,” the lady in black commented, whispering in your ear. “That would kill me.”

“Don't talk nonsense,” you said, laughing at the tickling her lips were starting to do on your neck. “I could never fall in love with someone other than you.”

“I like that you say that. I like knowing that you're mine…” she purred playfully, but before you could perhaps get carried away by passion in the workshop, the phone interrupted, making you two sigh in a complicit manner.

“Hey, you two!” Angie shrieked, interrupting the kisses that were beginning to heat up. “Are you deaf or is your blood not reaching your head? The phone is ringing!”

“Ugh, Angie,” Donna protested, pushing away the doll, who was already beginning to tug impatiently at her dress. “Behave, please…”

“Pick up the damn phone!” Angie shrieked, creating, along with the sound of the phone, a chaos in the normally silent workshop. “Let that silly thing go and get up!”

Your smile faded when you heard the doll talk about you as a… thing… The memories came back to haunt you.

“Angie, taci,” the lady growled, not obeying her puppet. “Pick it up, will you?”

“Always me! Angie, do this, Angie pick up the phone,” the doll mocked, making the lady laugh.

“Do it,” Donna growled, still kissing you, calming your nerves with her hot lips.

“You damn clingy fool…” Angie grumbled, leaving the workshop and obeying her owner.

Anyway, she couldn't do anything else, Donna created her.

After a while in silence, only accompanied by kisses, hugs and increasingly suggestive caresses, the doll returned, making you, with a knowing look, move away before your clothes began to disappear.

“It was the Duke,” the doll said, climbing onto Donna's lap, trying, unsuccessfully, to push you away from her. “He says he couldn't come this afternoon.”

“What?” the lady asked, frowning. “Why not?”

“I'm sorry, Miss Angie, personal matters,” the puppet said, imitating the merchant's voice. “What personal matters? Lose weight?”

“Cavolo…” the brunette lamented, passing a hand over her forehead. “We need flour.”

“So?” Angie protested, without being able to move an inch. “Send the fool to get it.”

“Yes, well… (Y/N), would you do me a favor and go to the village?” the lady asked, causing you to suddenly get up from her lap, nervous.

“M-Me? To t-the village?” you asked with difficulty pronouncing the words.

Two years had passed, two happy years without setting foot in the village. All your demons were still present, but, somehow, far away. Returning to the place where you suffered would only make things worse and besides, they would still be there, you were sure.

“Yes, you,” Donna said, frowning, surprised by your reaction. “Do you mind going?”

“Um, well… I… it's been a long time since I've been to the village and…” you murmured, looking away, somewhat embarrassed by your irrational fear.

“Ha!” Angie laughed amused. “Are you afraid of getting lost or something? Please…”

“No, of course not, it's just that…” you said nervously, noticing how sweat was beginning to run down your hands.

You couldn't, you didn't want to go back. Away from that place you had been safe. You just didn't want to go through the same thing. You couldn't do it, unless… Donna accompanied you.

“O-Okay, but… Donna, could you come with me?” you asked with a pleading look.

Being accompanied by a powerful Lord changed things. Maybe if those stupid girls saw you with her they would change their minds, or, at best, they would get the scare of their lives.

“Io?” she asked, pointing at herself. “No.”

“Why not?” you asked approaching the woman in black, who maintained a cold gaze. “How long has it been since you left the house? I think you could use some fresh air.”

“If I want to get some fresh air, I would take a walk around the grounds, like I do with you. I'm sorry, (Y/N), but I don't want to go to the village,” she answered with a dry voice, shaking her head. “I just need flour, the other things can wait. It's not that big of a deal.”

“It's not that big of a deal?” you asked more nervously, looking for somewhere to look. “Donna, I…”

“What's going on? Why don't you want to go to the village, (Y/N)? Is there something you haven't told me?” the lady asked, slowly getting up from the chair and holding your gaze with her eye half-closed.

“Um, no…” you sighed, lying again, unable to show the root of your problems, of your insecurities. “No, but…”

“Then obey, silly,” Angie said, with a severe tone camouflaged in a sinister laugh.

“I… O-Okay,” you said, without further arguments, defeated by that curious look that threatened with one of her interrogations. “I'll go.”

“Fine,” Donna said, arching her eyebrow and sitting down again. “Don't be long, tesoro.”

“N-no,” you murmured, biting your lip and slowly leaving the workshop.

As you walked, you thought about everything happened in that place, everything you had been through: the death of your parents, your loneliness, the cruel teasing of the girls… Everything had been generated in that sinister village. If there was a place you hated, that you never wanted to return to, it was that one.

Luckily, there was tranquility among the houses. No one noticed you as you walked towards your destination. Maybe, just maybe, those girls were no longer there, maybe you were worrying in vain. After all, two years had passed.

Everything seemed to be going surprisingly well, as you made the purchase relaxed, without awkward questions, as if you hadn't disappeared. For a moment, you had the hope that the demons that tormented you had disappeared with the passage of time. Unfortunately, it was a fleeting thought.

“(Y/N), what a surprise,” you recognized that voice immediately, freezing but forcing your legs to keep walking.

“Hey, where are you going so fast?” Olga insisted, grabbing your arm roughly. “Look, Miriam, Alicia, the monster is back.”

“(Y/N), you look ugly, as always,” Miriam said while you struggled against Olga’s grip. “What has happened to you these two years? Apart from being more horrible, of course.”

“Yes, (Y/N), we thought you were dead,” Alicia said, stopping you from moving forward.

“Leave me alone,” you whispered, pushing them away with your shoulder, trying not to hear their hurtful comments.

“What's wrong? Were you petrified by seeing your reflection? Have you hibernated? What happened to you?” Miriam insisted, with that petulant tone that reminded you of your horrible past.

“It's none of your business,” you growled, walking faster, escorted helplessly by the three girls.

“Well, we like to know where the monsters are, right, Olga?” Miriam commented, laughing mockingly. “So we can hide.”

Maybe telling the truth wasn't such a bad idea.

“You want to know where I've been? Huh?” you said, stopping abruptly, tears in your eyes again. “I've been living with Donna Beneviento for two years, she's my... girlfriend,” you said, faltering.

“What?” they asked in unison, looking at each other confused. “You must be kidding.”

“It's not a joke, so... stop, stop messing with me or I'll tell her and...” you said, pretending a threatening tone you weren't able to emit.

“Oh, what will she do to us? You're pathetic, (Y/N), of course, if anyone had to be with the crazy doll lady, it's you.”

“Don't insult her,” you hissed nervously, cornered again.

“Yes, surely that nutcase has noticed you because you're even much uglier than her.”

“Shut up!” you shrieked, shaking the bags in your hand. “I'll tell her and…”

“They say she's more horrible than a lycan,” Alicia hissed, approaching you with a smug smile. “That she has five eyes and claws in her mouth…”

“No, shut up,” you said, noticing how your legs were starting to fail you.

“Alicia, don't mess with the monster's girlfriend,” her friend said, with a cocky pose. “It's the most (Y/N) can aspire to.”

“It's true, although well, she probably hates seeing her face every day, that's why she sends you on errands, right?” she said, making tears return to your eyes.

“Well, a deformed being like her could only be with another deformed being like you. It's nature, but… well, maybe it's not a good thing,” Miriam commented, leaning uncomfortably on your shoulder.

“What do you mean?” one of the girls asked.

“It's obvious. That relationship won't last. Lady Beneviento will probably commit suicide for having her around, just like her parents... or, and yours,” Olga said with a dangerous tone.

“My parents died of an illness,” you growled nervously, looking everywhere, looking for some help.

“Yes, the illness of having an ugly as hell daughter,” the girl laughed, those laughs that didn't leave your mind even when you couldn't hear them.

“Relax, (Y/N), nothing will happen to her when she realizes how ugly you are, she probably won't take long to get rid of you, but... when she does, if you survive, don't go near the village, okay? You give nightmares to the children,” Miriam said.

Unable to defend yourself, you decided to run, to flee, while the three girls laughed amused. You didn't want to blame Donna for not being with you, for not making those stupid girls swallow their words, but you couldn't help but do so.

When you returned home, you didn't give any explanation, you just wanted to cry. You needed to. Your nightmare was far from over and your reflection in the mirror was becoming more and more distorted. It had been a while since you'd seen a person, but a monster.

“I'm telling you something's wrong with her, Donna, can't you see it?” you heard Angie say as you went up to the dining room.

The crying had exhausted you and you had masterfully avoided your girlfriend's questions.

“Yes, she was tired,” the lady whispered, setting the table while you listened, hidden in a corner.

“You're stupid, Donna, it's obvious that she's been crying,” Angie said, tugging at her dress. “I've approached the bedroom and heard sobbing.”

“If (Y/N) has any problems, she would tell me,” Donna said, sure of her words, ones she didn't know were a lie.

“Maybe the problem is you,” Angie murmured. “Donna, you are as understanding as a glass of water, why don't you ask her and…?”

“Oh, (Y/N),” the lady said when she saw you appear, with a tender smile, one that you returned with great effort. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yes, I just needed to rest,” you murmured with your voice broken by crying, letting the lady kiss you quickly before accompanying you to the table.

“Mm,” she murmured with a sweet smile as she sat in front of you, thus beginning another of your romantic, silent dinners. “Angie told me you have been crying.”

“Oh,” you sighed. “T-the allergy, you know.”

“If something worries you, (Y/N), you must tell me. You haven't said a single word since you came back from the village,” Donna commented, glancing at you out of the corner of her eye as she poured you a glass of wine.

“Nothing's wrong with me,” you said, feigning confidence, stopping eating for a moment and looking at the lady, who was frowning. “Hey, Donna, you… you love me, don't you?”

“Of course I love you, amore mio,” she sighed, reaching out her hand to caress yours. “I see tears in your eyes, tesoro. Please tell me what's wrong.”

“Nothing, I just sometimes wonder what you're doing with me,” you said in a sad tone, returning to your dinner.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Donna said amused, thus showing her lack of ability to understand emotions, something she wasn’t guilty of.

Poor Donna had been alone almost all her life. She wasn’t able to see the glow that indicated there was something wrong.

“Everything was delicious, Donna, but I think I'll go to sleep, I'm kind of tired,” you whispered after dinner, getting up from the chair.

“Wait,” she said, grabbing your wrist before you left. “(Y/N), I'm sorry about not going with you. If you're upset about that, I beg you to forgive me.”

“Oh, don't worry,” you said with a fake smile, kissing the back of her hand. “I have nothing to forgive you for.”

“Yes, but…” the lady said hastily, getting up and cupping your face in her hands. “I want to make it up to you. Tomorrow I have a meeting with my siblings and maybe, well, maybe you want to accompany me.”

“Do you want me to accompany you?” you asked, blushing at the proposal.

“Yes, um, the only bad thing is that you would have to wait outside, but I could give you that walk through the village, do you fancy it?”

“Sounds good, thanks, Donna,” you sighed, kissing her cheek with hope resurfacing in your chest.

Maybe, finally, you could get your revenge, scare those stupid girls, show them that they couldn't mess with you, that Donna was by your side, that she loved you, and that she didn't think you were horrible, because she didn't, right?

Luck didn't seem to be on your side at all. The next day, you walked with the veiled lady through the village.

There weren't many people on the street and they all lowered their heads as soon as they saw you. You clung to Donna’s arm, keeping her close, looking with your eyes for those girls, who seemed to resist appearing.

You finally reached the entrance of the cathedral, where you would have to wait. You were disappointed for not having been able to fulfill your objective, but you were patient, since there was still the way back.

“Well, well...” that voice, that voice again.

“What are you doing here, (Y/N)? Have you come to ask Mother Miranda to end your suffering?” other girl asked while you read quietly under a statue.

Unconsciously, you looked at the cathedral, looking for a help that wouldn’t come.

“I'm afraid there is no remedy for you, (Y/N),” Alicia said, letting herself fall next to you. “You are so ugly that not even the Black Gods could fix you.”

“Leave me alone,” you whispered, without taking your eyes off the door.

“Has your girlfriend committed suicide already? I would if I had to wake up every day next to a monster like you,” Olga commented, imitating her friend's gesture. “Now it's time to go after another Lord, isn't it? How about Moreau? You two look quite alike.”

“Yes, you'd make a good couple,” Miriam mocked, opening her eyes wide immediately.

“Ladies... Do you think it's fun to mess with my sister's girlfriend?” a seductive, velvety voice appeared behind you, the lady of the castle, Alcina Dimitrescu.

“My lady,” the girls repeated, standing up and bowing.

“Gods... How inelegant you are, my dears,” the lady in white murmured, placing a huge hand on your shoulder. “Maybe a few days in my castle will teach you some manners.”

“No, my lady, we're leaving now, my lady,” one girl said, terrified, walking backwards.

“Get out...” Alcina whispered, shaking her head. “Get out!”

You were nervous, sobbing, watching those three demons flee in terror. In other circumstances you might have laughed, but not at that moment.

“My dear… How do you let them say those things to you?” Alcina asked, sitting down next to you as best she could, running a hand over your tear-wet cheeks. “Can't you defend yourself?”

“I-I've been hearing them say that for so long that… that…” you said hiccupping, succumbing to your complexes, ones they created. “They're right.”

“They're right? Please,” she sighed, putting her arms around your shoulders. “You must be blind, dear. Those three stupid girls are just jealous.”

“I have nothing for them to envy… I'm a monster,” you sobbed, covering your face with your hands.

“Maybe you and I have a different idea of what monsters are like, my dear,” the lady of the castle said, shaking her head and patting your back. “I assure you that I have rarely seen a girl as beautiful as you. You must believe me, I know a lot about beautiful girls.”

“No, that's not true, that's…” you stammered, ignoring the compliment. “It's a lie.”

“Hey! Keep your claws off our (Y/N)!” Angie shrieked, appearing next to Donna and threatening the vampire.

“Your (Y/N)?” the lady in white asked, standing up elegantly. “My dear… If she is really yours, you should care a little more about her.”

“What happened? Why is the fool crying?” the doll asked as the lady in black approached, bending down to lift your chin, a touch you rejected.

“Three undesirable vermin were mocking poor (Y/N). Donna, you disappoint me, how can you allow them to say such things to your girl?”

“Cosa?” the brunette whispered raising her gaze and abandoning her touch on you. “Mocking?”

“Sì, cara mia… Allow me some advice: protect what is yours if you want to have the guts to call yourself a Lord, because if you don’t… well, I suppose there will always be room in the castle for this beautiful young woman, right?”

“Who did it!?” Donna shouted, frantically, comically pulling on Alcina's white dress, making her laugh amused. “Who did it!?”

“Mm, three young girls, they went that way,” Alcina pointed with her head.

“Come on, Donna!” Angie shrieked, walking in that direction. “It's been a long time since we had some fun.”

“Wait!” you screamed, grabbing the doll maker by the hand. “Leave it be, Donna, let's go home, please,” you begged, sobbing, wanting to disappear from that scene.

“No,” she hissed, pulling away from your grip. “They will pay for it.”

“No, no please, Donna!” you shrieked, pulling the lady under the watchful gaze of her sister. “It doesn't matter, I just want to go home, please.”

“What did they say to you, (Y/N)? Why were they making fun of you?” Donna said nervously, putting her hands on your shoulders. “What did they say to you?”

“It doesn't matter, Donna, really,” you insisted, resisting her nervous grip, her nails digging into your skin.

“They've hinted to your girl that she's… ugly, which is nonsense in my opinion, don't you think, Donna?” the vampire explained in an indifferent tone.

“Ugly? Her?” the lady in black asked in a confused tone, looking at you slowly. “But…”

You sobbed, hurt, deeply hurt, and turned around, running away from the women, returning home with a heartbroken cry.

There was nothing to do. Donna had discovered your problems, and you couldn't, nor did you want to wait to hear how she might agree. You wanted to cry, scream, but above all, you wanted to be alone.

You couldn't tell how long you were crying against the pillow, in the dark bedroom, hearing in the background a tireless knocking at the door.

“Apri la porta, (Y/N)!” Donna shouted from the other side. “Do it! Do you dare to disobey me?”

“I want to be alone!” you shouted, resting your head on the pillow. “I don't want you to tell me they're right, I don't want to hear it!”

“Cazzo!” Donna shrieked, banging on the door harder. “Why are you repeating that nonsense!? Open the door! Ugh…”

“No!” you screamed childishly, glancing at yourself in the small mirror on the vanity table. “You want to leave me? That's it, isn't it? You'll leave me because I'm ugly!”

“What the hell are you talking about? (Y/N)… open the door,” the lady hissed, getting impatient. “Please, I can't stand to see you cry, I know it's not the first time you've done it.”

“What do you care if I cry? You'll leave me anyway,” you said, sitting up and rubbing your stinging eyes. “Say it already.”

“What? What do you want me to say?” It was heard from the other side.

“That I'm horrible!” you shrieked, opening the door and running away from the lady, who grabbed you tightly by the arms.

“You're pissing me off, (Y/N)…” she hissed, not letting you escape. “Now you're going to tell me what's wrong with you, why you don't stop crying day after day if you don't want me to get really angry, you don't want that, right?”

You could only shake your head.

“Well, talk, what's all this business about those girls? Why do you cry every night?” she asked, in a calmer tone, wiping away your tears. “Tesoro, you're so ugly when you cry…”

“I'm always ugly,” you murmured, sitting on the bed and playing with your hands. “T-Those girls…” you started when the brunette sat next to you, ignoring your self-pity. “…T-They were never my friends but since I was very little they were always… harassing me, insulting me…”

“(Y/N)…” Donna whispered, nodding for you to continue.

“I know I'm not beautiful, but they... they're always reminding me and laughing at me and... even when some guy would come over, they would talk him out of it, telling horrible lies and...”

“I don't get it, (Y/N), what's this about you being ugly? I'm sorry, but I can't understand,” she stammered, frowning, confused.

“Stop pretending! Look at me!” you shrieked, pointing at your face. “They're right, I'm horrible...”

“Are you sure about that? Are you completely sure?” Donna asked, pulling your hand, lifting you from the bed and dragging you to the mirror, sitting you roughly on the stool. “Look, (Y/N), look!”

“D-Donna...” you stammered scared as the lady grabbed your face, forcing you to look at your reflection.

“Look at yourself, (Y/N). Look at your face, your eyes, your lips…” she whispered, fixing her eye on your reflection while holding your head. “I've never seen a girl as beautiful as you.”

“Y-You're just saying that to cheer me up,” you murmured, lowering your head. “It's not true, I…”

“I can't believe you, (Y/N), even my sister has noticed that you're beautiful, do you really think she offers anyone a room at the castle? Please open your eyes, look at reality.”

You shook your head, looking at all your features, features that, you began to notice, weren't those of a monster.

“If you think you're horrible, (Y/N), what am I?” she hissed, pointing at the deformity of her face. “You've never needed to cover your face, have you? You don't need a veil…”

“Donna, I didn't mean…” you said regretfully, blinking. “It's just that they…”

“They? They're just bitches!” the lady shouted, cursing like never before. “Do you know what their only problem is? That they'll never be as beautiful as you.”

“S-So… you think that…”

“They're just jealous, (Y/N), jealous of you, but you know what? You shouldn't care, all you have to do is… look in the mirror and acknowledge the facts. You're the most beautiful girl in the village, and I don't have enough gratitude for the Gods, because someone like me is lucky enough to have you.”

“Donna,” you said with tears in your eyes, believing her words, forgetting the insults, the years of teasing, realizing that she was right, that boys were approaching you in droves, interested in you and scared by those stupid girls, just out of jealousy because they would never be like you.

“Come here,” Donna whispered lovingly, lifting you from the vanity table and grabbing you by the waist. “Promise me that you will never believe a single word again. You must believe me, tesoro. I will always tell you the truth.”

“I... I don't know what to say,” you stammered, excited because, for the first time, Donna had managed to calm your fears, because you realized that you should have always trusted her, that this nightmare would have ended if you had told her what was tormenting you during those nights of crying.

“Mm, then don't say anything, just kiss me, bella,” the lady whispered, slowly approaching your lips, devouring them in a wet and warm kiss, comforting and salty with tears.

It was a long, deep kiss, animated by the silence, by the nervous breaths your lips emitted while they caressed each other. Her hands grabbed your waist, bringing you closer to her body, letting all her warmth embrace you slowly, without hurrying, while you had fun messing up her black hair, letting it fall on her shoulders.

“I love you,” you whispered, keeping your eyes on hers, running a hand over the scar that deformed her face, discreetly consoling her own insecurities. “I love you…”

Donna smiled, closing her eye so your hands caressed her soft skin, letting only you have that privilege, only you realize that she was a beautiful woman, that her beauty was only for you.

The doubts, the insecurities disappeared little by little, with each step you took towards the bed, with the voices of your demons camouflaged by the wet sound of the kisses, of the steps on the wood. Donna let her body rest on yours as her hands clung to your face while her lips reluctantly moved away from yours kissing your skin slowly, whispering things you didn't understand, but tickled your flesh.

“Beautiful... the most beautiful girl in the world,” she whispered in your ear, her hips betraying her desire, her fingers caressing your collarbone and her lips refusing to abandon the softness of your skin.

You laughed at the compliment, wanting to give her that affection too, running your hands over the perfection of her body, her waist, her chest covered by what at that moment seemed to you to be a horrible black dress.

“Donna...” you gasped when those innocent hands stopped being innocent, when they attacked the ties of your dress and pulled it down your body while you were distracted by her kisses, with her shy tongue bristling every inch of your skin. “Donna…”

She didn’t answer, since worshipping your body was a task that always required all her attention. Her legs settled on either side of your hips and her fingertips undid the annoying bra that covered you.

You gasped again, letting yourself be carried away by the subtle movements of her body, with your hands struggling to make their way over her chest, to undress it, to delight your eyes with her naked and perfect body.

Her kisses went down little by little, without it seeming important to her the hand that slipped through her dress, the hand that caressed her chest softly, a chest that rose and fell nervously, anxious to know what your fingers would do to it.

She pulled away from your lips, sitting up for a moment to look at you, with a cold, thoughtful look. You wondered what was going through her mind, what she was thinking about while her two hands passed over your naked skin, stopping at your breasts, squeezing them in a dominant, but kind, respectful way.

“Il tuo corpo è bellisimo,” she whispered slowly so you could understand her and blush while laughing shyly.

Your smile provoked hers, and without knowing what you wanted, the lady in black stopped being so, taking that annoying dress off her body, staring at you.

“If you say those things to me... I won't be able to control myself,” you said amused, with a mischievous look, grabbing the back of her neck and bringing her lips to their only possible place at that moment, kissing yours.

The kisses heated the atmosphere like a fireplace in winter. Your bodies danced tirelessly, more and more exposed, naked. The caresses became subtle scratches, claims of ownership as you panted on her lips.

Your hands became jealous, they wanted to touch her, to feel her bare chest as it rubbed against yours, to delight in the perfection of her figure always hidden, always ashamed.

No, Donna had nothing to be ashamed of. She was a terribly beautiful woman even if she refused to recognize it. Then, you realized that your frustration must be similar to hers.

Two women in love unable to recognize each other's beauty; you seemed predestined, it seemed that the only thing you could do in your sad life was to be together, to love each other, to kiss each other, to fuse your bodies into one and tell the world that you were both making love with beauty itself.

You protested with a moan when you noticed how her lips left yours, how her silky hair tickled your skin and her hands grabbed your legs, moving them at will.

Your fingers searched for each of the corners that disappeared little by little, they searched for her breasts, to make her nipples stand up like she had done with yours. It was the least that a Goddess like Donna deserved, but she didn’t allow it.

Her lust had other plans, her lips wanted to kiss your breasts, your belly, your thighs… She didn't want to let you think that there was a single inch of your body that wasn't worth worshiping.

“Donna…” you moaned, relaxing your body as you felt her lips on your wetness, her tongue caressing your most intimate area while your hands desperately sank into your hair.

She laughed against your skin without stopping her wet feat, running through your folds, playing with your clit and gently stimulating it so the pleasure wasn't overwhelming. She wasn't making love to you; she wasn't giving you oral sex, no… Donna was worshiping you.

Her kisses weren't fast or anxious, they were slow; they were made to enjoy the taste of your arousal, to get those soft and erotic movements of your hips. You wanted to protest, to demand a place between her legs too, but she didn't let you.

“Shhh, this is just for you, amore mio…” Donna whispered into your skin, adding her hands to the fun, trying to stimulate the parts her tongue abandoned.

You wouldn't feel cold, you wouldn't feel neglected, she was there to make you enjoy as she thought you deserved.

Your childish grunts and protests began to drown with moans of pleasure, with intense shivers, when one of her fingers followed the path of her tongue, impregnating itself in your wet core, playing with your eager entrance.

“Donna, please,” you said without wanting to, involuntarily begging for that pleasure to materialize, to stop being superficial.

The lady heard you, pressing her lips to your skin for the last time and climbing your nakedness, allowing you to taste yourself in her kisses, in a terribly erotic way.

There was barely time to enjoy that sensation, as her fingers entered you without wasting any more time, curling into your trembling core, one that was already unbearably hot.

Her movements were soft, careful, perfectly timed by her kisses and caresses, by subtle moans that came from her lips, by the pure and almost innocent pleasure of giving you that altruistic passion, one just for you.

The moans soon got out of control, causing your imperfect nails to scratch the perfection of her skin, marking her back to cushion the waves of pleasure you felt. Her fingers were harmonious, tireless, tender and passionate, running along your walls in a unique way, entering, leaving, caressing…

“Donna! I’m…!” you screamed when your hips jerked sharply, when your interior kept her fingers still at the same time your entire back tensed, accompanied by a very scandalous moan.

Of course, your release wasn't going to put an end to that pleasure. Without giving Donna time to protest, you threw yourself at her, immobilizing her, not allowing her to embrace you without returning the favor first.

Clumsily, but with desire, you imitated her movements, you sank into her eager wetness, which seemed to call you, to turn you on just with her scent. Your tongue, your lips… everything she gave you came back in the best way you wanted, making the normally shy and silent Donna Beneviento unable to help but scream.

She had her release and the kisses returned, rubbing your bodies tirelessly, brushing your wet core with her thigh while she did the same, hugging each other, looking into each other's eyes, loving each other in a hot, erotic and unmatched way.

“Donna…” you sighed once the action ended, collapsing in her arms after a second orgasm, with your demons far away from you. “I love you…”

She laughed, kissing you on the forehead and rubbing your back, but suddenly she frowned, pushing you away.

“Where are you going? Come here, my love,” you said with a sad look, watching how the lady got out of bed and started to get dressed, with a frivolous, almost dark face.

“Stay here, tesoro, I'll be back soon… I have to talk to three stupid girls…”

#donna beneviento #donna beneviento x reader #re8 donna #re8 village #oneshot #requests

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thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels · 2 days ago

Text

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.

#smsn.writes #smsn.events #tim drake #tim drake x reader #tim drake x you #tim drake fluff #tim drake smut #tim drake imagine #tim drake fic #tim drake fanfiction #red robin #red robin x reader #red robin x y/n #red robin x you #red robin imagine #red robin fanfic #dick grayson #bruce wayne #damian wayne

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lebensmudewing · 3 days ago

Text

This is worse

Trigger warning: birthing fetish

My birth video ended up on a fetish subreddit because of my husband

Throwaway. Although my husband will probably see this here anyway. Maybe this can be the conversation starter?? I don't know! I just need to get this out somewhere and have people validate that my feelings aren't crazy!

I'm sorry if this is all over the place. I am a mess.

My (F33) husband (M36) is the most wonderful and caring person I've ever met in my life. I thought. Almost overbearingly sweet. He's always concerned with how I'm doing, how I'm feeling, how is my mental health. He's an excellent father to our two children as well.

I had a difficult birth with my first child. My hospital experience was bad. I felt traumatized afterwards. When I got pregnant with my second, I knew that, barring any issues, I wanted a homebirth. My husband was all for it. He's a nurse, so I felt doubly safe with him plus my midwife to support me.

The midwife filmed and we also had a professional photographer taking pictures. Everything went great. It was so emotional and beautiful. I'm trying not to give too many details away since it's apparently available to ANYONE for their viewing pleasure right now.

I have been pretty possessive of that birth tape. I never uploaded it anywhere. After I downloaded it onto my computer from our camera's sim card, I uploaded it to a USB, deleted it off my computer, and I keep it in a little "hope chest" to watch when I'm feeling sentimental. It is so beautiful and important to me, and I wasn't interested in sharing it. I have several friends who put their whole birth on YouTube, but I wasn't interested in doing that. My birth didn't need to be shared with the world. It didn't need to be a teaching moment. It didn't need to exist to make others feel better. After my traumatic first birth, it was mine and i cherished it.

My husband didn't feel the same way and sometimes had light arguments with me about it. He was never pushy, but several times, when I would watch it, he would comment "this is such an excellent birth video! You are so happy and calm! I really think you should post this. Homebirths get such a bad rep and this could put so many women at ease." I would tell him absolutely not. This is private. Stop pestering me about it. Its my body. He eventually dropped it and hasn't brought it up since.

My husband and I have never been controlling. We don't have the passwords to each other's phones. I've never felt the need to check each other's phones or computers. I trust him implicitly. Well. I did anyway. I know he has a reddit. We both reddit pretty often. But i don't know his profile or what he does on here. Idk I've just never thought about it.

A few days ago, I was in one of my parenting subreddits and came across a disturbing thread about birth videos getting posted nonconsenually in a birth fetish subreddit. I thought to myself, that is exactly the reason I didn't want to post my birth video. The commenter posted the link to the fetish sub and I'll admit curiosity got the better of me and I went to look. I wanted to know if any of my friends videos wound up there so that I could tell them.

Well their videos DID wind up there. Every single one. The sub has several vast g drives linked to birth videos. But then I saw it. MY FUCKING BIRTH VIDEO. It looked like it had been a YouTube video at one point?? Idk I don't understand how this works. I cant find it on youtube anywhere, so idk. I'm so fucking ashamed and horrified. There is a closeup of...well EVERYTHING down there in a fucking fetish site. My baby taking his first breaths. Me breastfeeding. It doesn't even cut off after the birth. It shows my baby getting weighed, and just...held. If this is a birth fetish sub, why does it feature so much of just...my CHILD. This seems like waaayyyy more than just a birth fetish thing. Idek how to report the video.I reported the post and reddit says it doesn't violate anything.

I am bawling as I type this. Like wtf. Only ONE person knows where that tape is: my fucking husband. I don't even know how to broach this subject with him.

"Hey did you fucking violate my privacy and post OUR BABY'S BIRTH ONLINE, or did you submit it straight to a fetish site, because that's where it is right now."

I don't know what to do. I can't believe I even have to have this discussion. Wtf even if he didn't submit that video straight to the fetish site, he uploaded it somewhere else where they found it, and now his actions have led to THIS situation. He exposed ME to perverts online. He exposed our newborn infant to perverts online!!!

Our marriage will NOT survive this and I am a wreck. I should have known he had SICK intentions when he was being so weird about wanting me to post this. WHY? WHY WOULD HE DO THIS?? I'm not even that angry about those sickos seeing me, but every time I think of my sweet little baby's face in there...I feel like I'm going to throw up. Surely this is illegal?? Surely newborn babies can't be featured in content that people are...sexualizing!!! Can they?? I'm also just....absolutely gutted by the fact that so many other women have had this special moment bastardized by that sub. How many of them are in my shoes? Or my friends shoes. I'm horrified. Do I press charges against my husband?? I can't believe this is how my family is going to end. What will I even tell people. What will I tell my kids!!? Idek what to do!!

TLDR: Husband posted birth video online and it wound up on a fetish site. I don't know what to do.

Update: just a quick update. I left and took the kids to my mom's house. Idk how long we'll be here. I didn't tell my husband anything. I just wanted to get the kids the fuck away from him. Even if he didn't share that video directly with those creeps, I don't want him around them.

TLDR: Husband posted birth video online and it wound up on a fetish site. I don't know what to do.

Update to: birth video in a fetish subreddit

I just...need to vent I guess. This isn't a happy update.

As I mentioned in my last post, I went over to my mom's house. She was bewildered about why I was there. I couldn't fess up to the reason why I was so upset. I am still so embarrassed. I didn't want her to go looking for the damn video either. Thinking of my mom searching around a porn sub to find my BIRTH VIDEO made my skin crawl. I was hysterical. Still am. I couldn't really hide that. I just told her something bad had happened and we needed to stay for awhile. I'm going to have to tell her, but every time I think about doing it, I just start crying more. The situation is even more complicated now, so I'm just scared people will be mad at me for doing what I'm doing, even my own mom.

My husband called and texted over and over for hours. We haven't spent a night apart in years. I gave him no warning. I texted him once and said we were visiting my mom and would be back later, but that I needed a break. I was worried he'd call the police, but he didn't. He continued to text sporadically, pleading with me to talk with him about what was wrong.

I went back over to our house the next day around the time I figured he'd be off work. I took one of my mom's old phones and used it to record our whole interaction. Turns out he'd called out of work he was so distressed. He ran up to me and immediately started asking what was wrong, asking where the kids were etc. He was SO understandably upset. Seeing him like that just made me start crying too. When I started crying, he started crying. He tried to hug me and I stepped away which just made him more upset. It was such a mess. I was finally able to compose myself enough to ask him to watch a video on my phone. He was confused. More so when he realized it was my birth video. A few minutes in, he interrupted to ask why I was showing him. I ended the video, and a hundred other birth videos in the g file folder appeared. He still just looked confused. I exited the folder and pointed to the name of the sub I was in. He took my phone for a better look and I just started bawling and bawling. After a few minutes, he started raging about how we needed to mass report the post and call the FBI and blah blah blah. He kept repeating "we'll fix this. Holy fuck. This is so sick." I tried to get his attention by asking "how did they get that video?" But he just kept pacing around ranting. I just started repeating over and over "how did they get it!?" Until I was screaming at the top of my lungs. He eventually stopped and just stared at me. Neither of us said anything for a long time.

He started crying and told me that he had started a "Daddy Blog" a year after our first was born. He posted about being a dad and eventually about his experience with my second pregnancy. He had posted the video on youtube to link to his blog. He felt like there wasnt enough resources out there for dads regarding pregnancy. He didn't know I didn't want it posted until a week or two after baby was here and I was so vehement about not posting it and getting it tucked securely away on a usb. It was up for about TEN fucking months before he finally took it down. He was waiting to see if I changed my mind, and was reluctant to remove it because he'd received so many messages from thankful dads about how educational and helpful his blog/vlogging was. I had 0 knowledge about this blog. I didnt even know people blogged anymore?? We had both expressed many times how we didn't want to create a massive digital footprint for our children because of SITUATIONS JUST LIKE FUCKING THIS, so I this is such a fucking weird surprise. There's hundreds of pictures of our family on this thing.

Anyway, we got into a huge argument about how this was a breech of trust and privacy. He maintained that he thought my reaction about not wanting the video posted was over the top, and how I never told him I didn't want to share it, how he didn't even think of it as a big deal because he deals with that kind of thing every day so it was just not a big deal to him and blah blah blah. His excuses were stupid and I don't care. My birth wound up on a fetish subreddit because of him and we are getting a divorce.

When I told him it was over, we had another big screaming match. He went through several different emotions. Crying, wailing, begging, and finally anger. I hadn't said ANYTHING about custody arrangements, or my plans besides divorce, but he started threatening full custody and how he was going to put up a huge fight, how it would just be "he said/she said," how he has the better job, etc. Whatever. I didn't tell him I recorded anything (legal in our state). I eventually just walked out.

So yeah. That's where I'm at today. I need to consult with a lawyer about what comes next. I am moving as quickly as I possibly can. Sitting down to write this update was probably a stupid move, but I received SO many heartfelt messages from people concerned for me that it felt necessary. I honestly just...needed to vent and have people tell me I'm not crazy or awful for doing what I'm doing. I told a few friends, and they all just seem...weird. They're concerned about the videos I found in the fetish group, but nobody has reassured me that I'm making the right moves in regards to the situation.

I am in an incredibly bad place right now. I'm worried I'm making the wrong decision. Do i let him see the kids?? I don't know what to tell my family. I don't know if i need to contact the police. I don't know if i want to. The most stupid part of me wishes I could call my best friend and talk to him about it, but uh...yeah I'm divorcing him. What a stupid feeling to miss him so badly and knowing that I will never be with him again. I just keep thinking that I'm doing something stupid, and i feel like so many people will see it that way.

On top of everything, my birth video is just...in a fucking fetish sub. Every time I think about that, I get choked up. I've reported it a million times in just the few days since I posted. I've made alts to try and report. I've had friends report. My other friends,with their birth videos ALSO posted non-consenually in there, have tried reporting. It doesn't matter. I sent the link to the FBI. It doesn't even really matter anyway. They're g drives. If the post got removed, if the whole sub was removed, my video is still in the possession of some sicko using it for fap material. My baby's sweet little face in there...I am sick. I am defeated.

They have a post up in the sub about how their previous group was removed because of pedophile content. No shit. No fucking shit. Your fetish inherently involves children. They ask that "karens" please leave them alone now. They acknowledge that pedophiles lurk in their sub, yet continue to steal content with children in it for sexual purposes. I do not understand how something like this is legal. I don't know how many other dark places on the internet my video has ended up.

The most special moment of my life is now just this fucking smear of shit all because I decided to try and capture it for memory's sake. Something that was supposed to bring me unending joy, now leaves me weeping. I keep looking at my sweet toddler and just...breaking down. He didn't deserve this. I wish I could go back and never have recorded that video. I took my USB and fucking smashed it into a million pieces just to feel like I did something. I am tired.

There's not going to be another update for awhile. I am in a very dark place.

Link

he needs to die

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