#dc comics#dc#batman#bruce wayne#dc fanart#tim drake#dick grayson#batfam#batfamily
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Drafts Box
Real quick note on replies owed -littleheadofhellsing -trashman-of-hellsing -ponyridesanddarkness -miseriapromus -moon-lit-heroine -ironcladvalkyrie
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I stirred slowly, memories in my head that couldn't possibly be real, but as I moved, I sensed more than felt him. It was the radiating heat of his body, the slight heaviness on the other side of the bed. Seeking out that warmth, I slung an arm along his waist and pressed close, my eyes cracking open as I did so. His skin was decorated in marks, from deep scrapes made by fangs to dark bruises where my fingers had not been so tender. It was a gorgeous sight, and I recalled him giving as well as he'd got, but nothing ever left a mark upon my body. Not even silver, which just made my skin ache but never blister. Even if it lightly disappointed me, perhaps if this rough trade of bedding a vampire pleased him, he would be open to crueler delights.Â
I yawned, curled around his body, and dozed back off with a sly grin gracing my lips. Whatever happened in the morning's pale light, the night had been glorious and well worth the wait.Â
trashman-of-hellsing replied to your post:Five more minutes (I don't even know what this is for) ((*Cries* I didn’t even know there were more things to chose from.))
XD Yes, I was highly amused that everyone chose the same thing, misleading others to think it was the meme. Sneaky fuckers. <3
Five more minutes (I don't even know what this is for)
[omg, XD It was just a list of sentence starters and everyone seems quite taken with "Five more minutes".]
"Right, I'll meet you inside." I sighed quietly as I cut him a sympathetic eye. His fingers were trembling around the filter of his cigarette as he brought it to lips that looked sore. I wondered if he were still thinking of the reason why.Â
trashman-of-hellsing replied to your post:Red string of fate At least it aint crack xD
Still...spooky on far too many levels.
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"What do they want with us?"
"God only knows," I drawled as I watched the Iscariot agent enter Arthur's office. Continuing with a wicked grin, I lightly nudged him with a shoulder. "Go play the good servant, get 'em tea or whatever the fuck Catholics drink, and eavesdrop."
Espresso.
It was an hour before we'd be driving to the approximate location of the night's quarry. My partner looked exhausted, and that would not do. He's run himself ragged with mundane service, and I would never know if Arthur was so demanding or if the Angel were just that damned stubborn. Likely a mix of both.Â
I was not a completely uncivilized creature and was able to prepare coffee in a small perculator designed specifically for making espresso. When he found me in the kitchen he favoured with me with a faintly wry, cutting remark to reflect his agitation born of exhaustion. I brushed it off with a light chuckle, poured the brew into a mug for him, and thrust it into his palm.Â
"Good to hear your tongue is so sharp despite the tiredness lining your eyes. Drink up, though. I want more than your tongue sharp tonight."
3
For every " <3" I get I'll give tip on how to win my muse's heart.
 Marietta likes to be admired, to be respected and noticed. Like any woman, she enjoys being doted on — though not entirely spoiled. A simple sign of acknowledgement will do. And while she will do her best to mask it, she is capable of feeling envious/jealous of other women; especially if they receive more attention from the one she loves/desires than herself. Attention even in small doses does wonders.
