Being a demon, Tim had never thought he’d see anything pure. Vacant of evil deeds, of the lingering touches of the darkness influence. Tim had always believed angels were something he couldn’t possibly witness, that they were beings outside of his grasp.

His skin was marred with pitch black swirls. The black markings started along his back, lining his spine, the markings themselves swirled out, curling around his body as if the darkness was to prevent him from reaching above. From reaching the purity that were angels that flew high above the clouds, always out of sight but never out of mind.

His tail, pitch black, flicked and tingled whenever an angel came flying overhead, sensing the purity his inner demon wanted to devour. His nails— claws just as black itched to be painted with the gold color rumored to be an angel’s blood. It was evil, stomach twistingly devastating. As if the whispers of the devil’s wrath still lingered in his mind despite having been cursed with the life of a demon.

Tim was admiring the stars above, watching as they twinkled in the dark sky, the moon shone brightly, almost blindingly. His tail curled around his leg, his claws were shortened, retracted. His forearms pressed against the railings of the balcony as he admired the view of the night sky.

Suddenly, tingles shut up his spin causing his tail to stiffen and his claws to extend. An angel was approaching. He held his breath as he looked upward. His heart dropped when he watched a gorgeous angel, clad in white silk cloth, blooded after having your wings torn out from the bases on your back, fell from the sky. Your clothing began to seep gold as you fell.

Time slowed as you go closer to the ground, to Tim. Tears dotted the air as you fell, as if they were nothing. Tim choked on air as he watched you roll down the hill the Wayne Manor was sat on. He silently cursed himself, made a mental note on how pissed Bruce would be before he jumped over the railing.

Hd slid along the hill, following after your unconscious form. He knelt down next to you, brushing your hair out of your face. And-

Oh, how gorgeous you were. Pure, sweet. Your skin was flawless, and your hair felt like silk underneath his fingertips.

“It’s okay, angel,” he whispered softly, as if speaking in your presence would taint your purity. “I’ve got you,” Tim murmured as he carefully wrapped his jacket around you and lifted you up. “I’ve got you, sweet one.”