#v;reformed

[corvidamned]

The detective's hands locked her wrists; they were pinned over her head and finally against the book shelf: his body instantly hugging hers, then pushing back to close down the whole figure against the large shelf (a couple of books fell from the collisions). After several seconds of silent staring into each others eyes, the intelligent man leaned into her neck in search of her ears && in the next moment his lips parted to whisper. " I had a dream, just like this. And.. " A long pause.

   It took her a second to get her bearings, pressed against his collection. To be guided incited suspicion. To be moved made her bubble up and grin at his audacity. To understand the longing in his eyes, a longing she felt a night so long ago in similar close quarters, she sighed, and nuzzled against his cheek to coax out an answer, whispering sharply back, “And just what did I let you do to me?”

[voicesasclearasday]

No Remedy for Memory || Jack/Harley

Not for the first time,Harley had found herself sitting at the Joker’s grave. It’d become a bit of a habit over the last few months. Ever since her release from Arkham. She never said much, maybe a hello, if she could manage, but for the most part, she would sit there in silence, just thinking. Remembering. The doctors didn’t approve. Thought it would send her into a relapse. And Bats was rarely ever far behind when she came around. Occasionally she’d see a shadow, or hear a swish of a cape. The sight always brought a bitter smile to her lips. She didn’t blame him, per-se. But she still held a bit of a grudge for the part he’d played. He hadn’t known him like she had. None of them did. All they ever saw was the crazed clown. They didn’t know about the rest... they didn’t see the softer side. The saner side. They didn’t realize that those times were the reason she stuck around. And the closer it’d gotten to the end...the more those moments.. that side of him... came out. And that was what she missed. Not the chaos, or the insane plans or destroying the city and certainly not the abuse. She missed those quiet moments, Those moments where they laughed and danced.. where they were just together. Happy. Where things felt.. almost normal. As those memories drifted through her mind, she dropped her gaze to the single flower sitting in her lap with a sad smile and a sigh. Already, she could feel her throat grow tight. “I really miss ya, J...” She croaked.

A few silent tears escaped then, and she found herself, in that moment, wishing she could see him again. Just once. Even if it was for a few seconds. Even if it was just to say goodbye...Just one last time.

[riddle-factory]

@robinreturns

“ --- Oh, how the mighty have fallen.”

“Let me guess. You want my help.”

[corvidamned]

@pcrplexus | ⊗

 With a squeeze, Kira leaned on her toes to plant a loving peck on his cheek, marking him with the red of her lipstick. She only came for one of her own books, a massive tome on the history of odd occurrences and strange characters in Gotham, anything to clue her in on when metahumans came to their shores. Quickly getting distracted by the cut of a toned derriere, she had to grant some affection before returning him to his very important case.

[riddle-factory]

Rebecca is, has been, and no doubt will continue to be quite the puzzling conundrum. A paradox with bright red hair and a scarred and freckled little body, all armed with poison words and teeth and claws. In Gotham, people like to adopt personas -- compare themselves to concepts, creatures. But Becky isn’t like that, couldn’t be like that, because there are no creatures or concepts complex enough to which one could liken her. Perhaps a wendigo or a werewolf, frozen mid-transformation, aware of her madness, actively fighting it, trying to protect everyone around her from it. Except she doesn’t need a silver bullet.

Right now, at least, she needs Edward’s tongue in her mouth and his hand inched a little further up her thigh. Carefully so.

“That does it for you, hm?” a low growl, now, the grin on his lips audible in the tone of his smug, stupid voice. “I should make you solve a riddle first.”

@scarestress | cont

[riddle-factory]

8. adjusting his hair/clothes without asking :^)

Be still his little riddlesome heart. 

Here they are, standing outside the office building of the next lead in their investigation, and she’s brushing his hair out of his face and fixing the kilter of his necktie. To an outsider, they must look dreadfully domestic – and, for a split second, he lets himself enjoy the likeness they’re giving off to a 1950s housewife sending her man off to work. Granted, Rebecca would sooner tear his throat out with her teeth than be a housewife. Consider that another perk.

“If you keep doting, I might just get used to it, Miss Albright.” 

Cue that lovestruck lean, utterly destroying her personal bubble when his nose brushes the tip of hers.

“I don’t suppose I could negotiate a kiss.”