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berry-potchy · 5 months ago

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Dad's Best Friend!Miguel part 2

Summary: Your dad shows up unannounced, interrupting your romantic dinner with Miguel. He plants seeds of doubt in your pretty little head that Miguel is more than happy to snip off

Tags: DBF!Miguel x F!Reader, age gap, college age reader, P in V sex, size difference (smaller reader), brief under the table footjob, spanking, insecurities, vague mention of Miguel’s past relationships, uncomfortable relationship talk with your dad who means well but ends up making you feel like shit anyway

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: Surprise! The second part actually exists. It’s been almost a year since part one and I kept teasing part 2 but I couldn’t think of a way to end it. I considered just abruptly cutting it off and post it but I just couldn’t do it. BUT HERE IT IS NOW. Hope you guys still enjoy it!

Part 1

It has been a week since Miguel has caught you masturbating to the thought of him. A week since you found out that he wanted you just as much as you wanted him. A week of absolute depravity that you thought only happened in porn. He fucked you all over the house; no room, furniture, or surface was left untouched during your vigorous lovemaking.

Unfortunately, his “sick leave” had to come to an end and so did your self-imposed break from uni. He’s going back to work the next day so you decided you were going to do something special and make the most of the last evening of his leave. Of course, there’ll be more times to fuck but you feel the need to give him something special before he goes back to his workaholic mode. Maybe it’ll encourage him to start coming home earlier.

You had everything planned. You and Miguel had a lovely early dinner that he helped you prepare. The way it was so easy to fall into a domestic routine made your heart flutter. You’d have to ask him if you can do this with him more often when he’s not so busy with work. You also had wine that Miguel picked out for both of you. You trusted his mature tastes even though you knew he preferred hard liquor. And for dessert, well…

“That’s it, gatita,” Miguel grunted in your ear, a deep growl rumbles from his chest as he rams his fat cock relentlessly into your greedy cunt. “Taking my cock so well. I’m gonna miss this when I’m at work tomorrow. Gonna think about your tight little pussy while I’m in a boring meeting.”

You can’t form any coherent words from how aggressive his thrusts were. Each thrust drove his cock deeper into you, his tip kissing your cervix, knocking the air out of your lungs and the words out of your little cock drunk brain. Your legs were wrapped around his waist and your arms holding his broad shoulders for support, hands desperately clawing at his back. You clung to him tightly as he fucked you standing up in the middle of the kitchen. He took full control of your body, his large hands on your waist, moving you up and down his cock as he pleased, like you’re his personal living cocksleeve.

“My little slut can’t even talk anymore,” he laughs at your pathetic whimpers and whines “Taking my cock like a good girl. Going to make sure you feel it until tomorrow.”

You bury your face in the crook of his neck panting, mumbling “please” over and over again against his skin. Your tits are pressed against him, sensitive nipples rubbing against the dusting of dark hair on his chest with every movement. The burning knot in your stomach is threatening to come undone.

“You’re gonna cum for me, princesa?” he said as his thrusts grow frantic. “Wanna feel your pussy milk my cock dry. She’s so greedy for my cum. Sucking me in so good I can’t even try to pull out.”

You arch your back as you feel your orgasm rip through you, making you see white for a second. Miguel catches you, an arm around your waist and the other around your shoulders to keep you from falling over as he keeps on rutting into you to chase after his own climax. He pulls you closer to him to capture your mouth into a kiss as you feel his hot cum coat your velvety walls. You moan against his lips, giving his tongue access to your mouth, making you melt in his arms.

You reluctantly pull away to catch your breath, resting your sweaty forehead against his. He coos at how absolutely wrecked you looked, the pretty makeup you did for him all smeared and messed up. The red of your lipstick is no longer on your lips but all over Miguel – on his lips, cheeks, neck, chest, trailing all the way down to the red ring near the base of his cock.

Miguel sets you down on the dining table, hands keeping your knees apart to watch his cum dripping out of your sloppy hole. Your hands grab your breasts, squeezing them together for his viewing pleasure. Miguel moans at the sight. You are so perfect to him.

“I’m going to see your dad again in the office tomorrow,” he says, kneeling in front of your spread legs, ready to eat his dessert. He licks his lips and rubs his large hands up and down your thighs “I’m sure he’s going to have questions. I’ll make sure to tell him how good you were, taking care of me and making me feel so much better.”

He was about to dive in when the doorbell rang. You hear him growl a string of Spanish curse words under his breath as he reluctantly stands up from where he was kneeling. He tries to calm down and you sit up to wipe the sweat and lipstick off his face. You help him put on his shirt, straightening it out as much as you can with your hands as he tucks away his half-hard cock in his sweatpants. You brush his messy hair back away from his forehead, trying to make him look presentable for when he answers the door.

“I’ll be quick,” he sighs, kissing you on your temple as he pulls away and walks out the room. You can’t help but be a little curious as to who is looking for Miguel this late in the evening. You try to stand up, snatching the silk robe you were wearing earlier to peek at the visitor when you hear an all too familiar voice echo in the halls.

“Miguel! You look like shit!” The loud booming voice of your father makes you stop dead in your tracks.

“Hey, I didn’t know you were coming over?” Miguel said, trying to act normal as you hear him letting your dad in. “You should’ve called.”

“Well I did try to but neither you nor my daughter were answering,” he said “Anyway where is she? I brought you guys your favorites for dinner. I’ll even set up the dinner table for you.”

That got you to snap back to reality. Shit, shit, shit!

You start running to your room, careful not to leave a trail of Miguel’s cum on the floor. You try to wash off any traces of sex with a quick shower and change into a simple shirt and unfortunately with a bra and shorts on this time. Can’t have your dad know you parade around the house half-naked for a man twice your age.

Downstairs, Miguel’s boner is fully killed. He didn’t even get to clean you up with his tongue. Shame. Your dad is talking about work stuff but he’s only half-listening. He helps him set the table for your second dinner of the evening, not able to turn down his best friend lest he gets suspicious. He eyes a few white drops on the table and reluctantly wipes it with the hem of his shirt. His eyes meet yours as you enter the room, drying your hair with a towel. You give him a tight-lipped smile before going in to greet your dad.

You have an okay dinner together: Your dad did most of the talking, which is usually what happens between him and Miguel anyway. He also is still under the impression that Miguel was actually sick so he got a pass. You however have to pretend you aren’t annoyed that the night you planned is ruined as you answer his questions about uni.

“No boys? Partners? I told Miguel not to let you bring any around,” he says smugly to which Miguel smirks, taking a sip of the whisky your dad brought over.

“Dad, please,” you groan, sliding down on your chair, which makes him laugh out loud. You steal a glance at Miguel, pouting, and he’s laughing along. Traitor.

“I just wanted to be sure my baby’s focusing on her studies,” he says, putting his hands up in surrender before adding “and that I don’t end up a grandpa too soon.”

They keep laughing but thankfully, Miguel changes the topic. You give him a look of relief and rub your foot on his leg as a silent thank you. He keeps talking to your dad, pretending not to feel your foot stray further up until it rests on his inner thigh, the tip of your toe toying with the outline of his cock. He grabs your ankle but doesn’t stop you. He instead moves to sit a little closer to the table so you can rub the sole of your foot against his clothed length.

You’re playing a dangerous game. Your dad is right there he could look under the table and find his precious daughter giving his best friend a footjob in front of the dinner and alcohol he so graciously brought over. But you were feeling petty about your ruined plans and Miguel doesn’t seem to mind the attention to his cock.

You bite your lip, feeling his cock harden under your touch. He must feel sticky and uncomfortable under his sweatpants after not being able to wipe his dick of your combined fluids when your dad barged in. You wish your dad decides to leave early so you could get on your knees for Miguel and lick him clean.

Miguel eventually excuses himself, coughing that he needs to go to the bathroom, probably to jerk off and shower. You start clearing up the table and your dad offers to help.

“So,” he starts wiping the table “I see the way you look at Miguel.”

You freeze, trying not to drop the stack of plates you’re holding.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You start loading the dishwasher, trying not to make it obvious that your hands are shaking.

“Hey, no need to get defensive. I know what I saw,” he says “And I mean, you’re a young single lady and Miguel is this handsome, cool, older guy that’s a constant in your day-to-day. It’s not wild to have a crush on him. I’m just…”

Silence.

“Sweetie, I’m worried about you. I don’t want you to get hurt when he doesn’t return your feelings,” he sighs as he leans his hip on the counter next to you. He’s trying to look you in the eyes, trying to let you know that he’s being sincere. “Believe me that man has no time for romance. He’s all busy with his work. Plus I’ve seen the women he slept with before. All supermodel looking and yet… well they never last long.”

“Thanks for the confidence boost, dad,” you roll your eyes at him, trying hard to ignore the feeling of wanting to throw up. You don’t want to think about that. About the specifics of what you and Miguel have going on. You’re just trying to enjoy Miguel’s attention right now. For the longest time, you didn’t even think you had the chance. Is it really that bad to just accept what he’s willing to give right now?

“I’m not saying you’re not beautiful, honey! Of course, you’re beautiful! You’re my daughter,” he tries to lighten the mood but turns serious when you don’t laugh. “Just might not be his type. Besides, he’s twice your age. He's too close to your old man’s age. Are you sure that’s something you’d like? In a few years, he’d be just as uncool as me while you’re still young and should be enjoying your life.”

He puts a hand on your shoulder and pulls you into a side hug. You both stay silent for a few moments. You think about Miguel and try to look for signs. Signs that say he just wants sex or that he wants something more. All you can think about is how sweet he always was with you even before you had sex. Even more now. You blush remembering how Miguel peppered your face with kisses this morning to wake you up because he wanted to cook breakfast but didn’t want to leave you in bed.

“Okay, but what if he does?” you countered, suddenly gaining a bit of confidence. “Would you be okay with that? If we get into a relationship?”

A painful few seconds of silence that felt like forever.

“I know that look in your eyes,” he finally says, shaking his head, and sighing. “It’s your “I’m going to get what I want” look you got from your mom. You’re gonna get hurt.”

You cross your arms and pout, never one to back down.

“And if he does end up liking you,” he starts again and you side-eye him “well… good thing he doesn't.”

You groan as your dad messes up your hair, laughing as he sees Miguel come back, fresh from his shower. Your dad finally decides it’s time to head out and let the sick man rest. He gives you a tight hug and a kiss on your forehead before leaving.

You’re left alone with Miguel again in the kitchen. The earlier conversation with your dad soured your mood and left you zoning out. Miguel slips himself between your parted legs as you sit on the kitchen counter, large, warm hands kneading your thighs, fingers slipping under the hem of your shorts.

“What’s on your mind, princesa?” He leans in to press his forehead against yours. “Tell me.”

You try to turn away but he brings a curled finger under your chin to make you face him. His brows are furrowed, worried. You try to look at him and your heart stutters. You don’t want whatever you have with him to end. You’re not sure if you actually want something serious with Miguel but the thought of just being a bedwarmer to Miguel is upsetting.

“Just thinking,” you start, trying to get the words out without sounding jealous or spiteful “My dad said you used to date? Sleep around with? Whatever. The girls you were with before were all… supermodel looking. They’re probably tall and skinny and drop-dead gorgeous huh? Is that your type?”

“And where is this going, nena?” Miguel whispers, pulling away and giving you a stern look.

“Well, I’m just not like that?” you say sheepishly, pursing your lips and shying away from his gaze. “I don’t know why you gave me the chance. I’m just-”

Miguel’s gentle touch on your chin turns into him gripping your cheeks, making you shut up. You nervously look at him, a deep frown on his face.

“Don’t you ever put yourself down, cariño,” he says, his eyes sharp. He makes you keep your eyes on him while he uses his other hand to pull you closer, making you wrap your legs around his waist. “You know, at the start, I offered to let you stay here just because I wanted to mentor you when I had the time. I know you’re a brilliant girl, so intelligent, following in your dad’s footsteps. What I didn’t expect is for you to consume my thoughts day and night for the past few months. You’ve grown into such a beautiful lady, cariño. You are such a temptation, making me think about your pretty eyes looking up so innocently at me. Those lips tempt me every single time you pout at me to get your way.”

He growls, finally letting go of your face to move his hands to your ass. He suddenly bucks his hips against yours making you gasp out loud, your clothed cunt rubbing against his growing bulge. You try to move your hips to gain friction on your throbbing cunt but he keeps you still.

“Don’t even get me started on this body of yours,” he buries his face at the crook of your neck, kissing, licking, nipping at the sensitive flesh making your head roll to the side to give him more access “So perfect for me. Made for me to grab, to fuck, to worship. Dios mio, nena, I can’t get enough of you.”

He sounds drunk from your scent and taste, mouthing at your neck, hands kneading your flesh. He grabs handfuls of the soft fat of your thighs, your ass, your tummy rolls, your plump tits, and back down, committing each curve to memory. You wrap your arms around his neck, eyes rolling to the back of your head in pleasure when he laps at your pulse with his skillful tongue.

“So I don’t wanna hear any of that nonsense comparing yourself to women I didn’t care about then and I sure don’t care about now,” he growls as he picks you up and flips you around. He bends you over the counter, stomach against the cold marble top and the rounded edges digging at the tops of your thighs. Your feet can’t quite reach the floor so you settle for trying to wrap your legs around Miguel’s own. He yanks your shorts and panties down to your knees in one aggressive motion.

“My silly beautiful girl getting jealous over old flings and exes,” he hummed, his large hands massaging your ass, kneading the cheeks, spreading them with his thumbs. “They’re not here anymore, are they? Didn’t work out with them and they’re not in my life anymore. And I prefer it that way.”

You feel him spit on your hole, dripping down to mix with your own wetness. You drop your head onto the countertop, the heated skin on your face making the marble feel icy. He takes your wrists, securing your hands behind your back with his own large hand while his other still massages your ass. Your eyes flutter, enjoying the sensation when you hear a loud smack cut through the momentary silence.

“Mig-” you yelp as you feel a sharp sting on your right ass cheek. His hand goes back to massaging, trying to soothe your reddened skin. You whine as he gives your other cheek the same treatment. Two matching red handprints bloom on both your cheeks.

“You shouldn’t be listening to your dad about my type when I was much younger,” he says, his voice low and serious as he leans down to press his sculpted chest on your back “Because right now there’s nothing I want more than this pequeña prinscesa whose toes can't even reach the floor when I bend her over the kitchen counter. You love that too don't you? How I’m much bigger than you? How easily I can carry you around, bend you over, and fuck you whenever I want? Love folding you in half and using your pretty pussy- no, my pretty pussy. This is mine. Mine to fuck. Mine to breed. Isn’t that right?

You nod enthusiastically not trusting your voice to speak. the words he growls at your ear going straight to your cunt. You feel another hard smack go down your ass, the impact making you slide a bit on the counter. His hands pull you back by the waist to press his erection against your dripping cunt, your wetness soaking through his sweatpants.

“Use your words when you answer me, nena,” he growls, grinding himself against your folds. The friction from the fabric of his sweatpants feels heavenly against your puffy folds.

“Yessss,” you whine, pushing your ass back against him “all yours. Need you to fuck this pussy please, please, please!”

“How can I say no when my baby girl is begging so nicely?” he coos, pulling down his sweatpants to free his cock. He takes it in his hand and presses the tip in. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull as your velvety walls welcome him back, still stretched out from your earlier activities.

“Perfect,” Miguel groans as he wastes no time to fuck into your slutty little hole that’s sucking him in so lewdly. “Made for me. Mi princesa needs to learn that no one can compare to her. She’s so perfect. And she’s mine. Only mine. And I am hers.”

“Yo-urs– M-ah, Miguel,” you whimper as he keeps hitting all the right places, his tip hitting your sweet spot with each hard thrust until you’re once again pushed over the edge of sweet release. Your gummy walls contract, milking Miguel’s cock as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm. He follows shortly after with a deep moan, his cock coating your insides with his warm seed.

Miguel makes no move to pull out. Instead he peppers your shoulders and neck with kisses, humming in contentment, whispering sweet endearments. Your heart fills with warmth and before you could even think about it, the words just leave your mouth.

“I love you, Miguel”

Silence. Anxiety starts to bubble in your chest as you start to think that you’ve read all the signs wrong. But before you could take it back, Miguel turns you to lie on your back, facing him. He leans down to capture your lips in his, his hands pulling you closer as if he was afraid you’d leave if he lets go. He mumbles “I love you” against your lips over and over again for the rest of the night making sure you never doubt his feelings for you ever again.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel ohara #potchy-writes #dbf!miguel #dad's best friend miguel ohara #dilf miguel ohara

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kaminocasey · 2 years ago

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Joyride

Summary: You and Hunter have been ignoring your feelings for each other for a year, but can't any longer when you're sent on a mission together.

Pairing: Hunter x f!Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI; Angst, Enemies to Lovers, SMUT, Sex on a speeder bike, unprotected p in v (wrap it up friends), Cid (lol)

WC: 3.2K

A/N: OKAY don't be mad at me for having Cid in this bc I started writing this way before that finale and before we knew that Cid was a traitorous asshole, so I'm sorry about that. BUT sex with Hunter on a speeder bike should make up for it, right?? (Also, if you saw me post this earlier on my main, no you didn't lol.)

TAGLIST FORM │Bad Batch Masterlist

“Dark and Broody, Mopey… You two will be going on this one alone.” Cid points at you and Hunter.

That’s what Cid calls you, Mopey. Even though she’s known you your whole life and absolutely knows your name. You moped about Hunter to her one time and now the name has stuck.

“What?” You and Hunter ask, simultaneously and then look at each other uncomfortably.

Crossing your arms, you glare. “We don’t do alone missions.”

“That’s not my problem. I need a couple who won’t stick out too much.” Cid starts to walk away toward her office, knowing you’ll follow. “It’s easy. In and out. Get the drive. Bam. You’re done.”

“A couple?” Hunter asks, still trying to catch up.

“Yeah, a couple. Ever heard of the word?” Cid sits at her desk, rummaging through her drawers. “Two people who are together.”

“We aren’t together, though.” Hunter glances at you as you lean in the doorway with crossed arms, looking at you as if you have some sway here.

You’ve known Cid your whole life. She apparently used to run with your mom back in the day and when your mom passed, Cid took you in. She looks up at you, knowingly and you shake your head, walking out so you can leave Hunter to argue with her. It was a lost cause arguing with her. You learned that long ago.

“Good luck.” Echo tells you, smirking from the bar.

You flip him off and then look to make sure Omega wasn’t watching. Thankfully, she and Wrecker are in a heated Dejarik game while Tech watches over Wrecker’s shoulder. You can’t help but be grateful for this little group that you and Cid found a year ago.

“You know, you’re pacing.” You tell Hunter from the co-pilot’s seat as the ship travels through hyperspace.

It’s quiet without the rest of the Batch, you notice. Too quiet. It occurs to you how little time you and Hunter have been around each other without any of the others around.

“Yeah. And?” He snips.

You prop your feet up in the seat in front of you, your dress slipping up to your thigh slightly. He looks down only for a second and walks off to the bunks to do something. With a roll of your eyes, you pull up your datapad and send off a message to Echo.

You: He’s impossible.

Echo: What do you want me to do about it?

You: Just complaining I guess?

Echo: You mean being mopey?

You: Fuck you.

Echo: LOL

You sigh and toss your datapad back into the seat, groaning in frustration.

“What is it?” Hunter stands in the doorway.

“Nothing.” You turn your seat around to look out at the blue hues of hyperspace.

“Right…” Hunter disappears again until right before you come up on Coruscant.

“So the plan-” Hunter stands in front of you when you land.

“I know the plan.” You stare up at him.

“Right. Okay then.” He sighs as he hands you your ear piece, giving you a curious look as he stares down at you.

“Okay.” You nod and open the hatch.

You leave the ship together, coming up on the speeder that one of Cid’s people left for you. He looks at the speeder bike.

“Don’t even think about it.” You grumble and point at your outfit. “Dress, remember?”

He chuckles. “Right.”

With a slight roll of your eyes, you get in the passenger side of the speeder. As he takes off, you try your hardest to not look at him in his nice outfit. He’s wearing a dark red collared shirt, the top two buttons undone, slightly revealing his tattooed chest, dress pants, and a gold chain you didn’t know he had.

You find yourself wanting to ask him about the chain and about the tattoo that was clearly a continuation of the half skull on his face. You’re tempted to question him if it goes all the way down…

“What?” Hunter picks up on your staring.

You go warm in the face instantly and look out your side of the speeder as he continues to drive. “Nothing.” He chuckles. “If you say so.”

Arriving at the casino, Hunter starts to get out but you stop him, leaning on the edge of the door. “What are you doing? Keep the speeder running in case I run into trouble. Thought you’ve done this before?” You smirk.

“I have.” He scowls at you. “You’re gonna go in alone, dressed like that?”

You raise your eyebrows. “Really? We’re gonna have this conversation?”

He thinks about it for a second. “Look… I know you can handle your own-”

“Great, then I’ll see you in a few minutes. Keep it running, I’ll be in and out.” You ignore him and walk away into the casino.

“Nothing wrong with backup, you know?” He grumbles in your ear as you walk up the steps to the second floor.

“Hush.” You tell him, smiling at the coat check person, politely.

You can feel some eyes on you as you walk onto the casino floor.

“You’re breathing heavily.” Hunter complains in your ear on the comm as you make your way through the casino full of people.

“No I’m not.” You roll your eyes. “You just have supersonic hearing.”

He chuckles. “I think you mean ultrasonic.”

“Maker, you’ve been hanging around Tech too much.” You shake your head to yourself.

Stars, why does his voice sound like that? It sounds like pure sex and it feels like he’s practically purring in your ear. And it’s going right to your-

“You good?” His voice pulls you out of your thoughts.

“Yep.” You take a wine glass off a waitresses tray and gulp it down in one go, trying not to think about what Hunter’s voice does to you.

“Please try not to get wasted.” He warns you.

“How did you know-” You put the empty glass on a passing tray and keep moving through the crowd of people who were clearly rich and well off.

“‘Supersonic’ hearing, remember?” He teases, lightly. “You… ahem… swallow loudly.”

He coughs and you try to not think about what he could be thinking of.

“Focus, Sarge.” You smirk, just trying not to argue with him for once. It’s really not a secret that you two don’t really see eye to eye, but that’s not your problem. It’s his. He’s the one who always starts the arguments. Like now, complaining about your breathing and your swallowing. If anyone deserved to complain, it’s you. You’re in this ridiculously snug dress and stupid heels and you’re ready to peel them off.

“Miss?” You hear a man’s voice behind you.

When you turn around, you find a handsome, young gentleman with a blue scarf that you’d been looking for. He’s supposed to be the one who gives you the drive.

“Hi. Luc?” You smile.

Easy mission, thankfully. In and out just like you told Hunter, making him wait out in the speeder.

“That’s me.” He grins. “They didn’t tell me that a beautiful woman was supposed to be meeting me. Could I buy you a drink first?”

You try to not roll your eyes as you keep a fake smile plastered on your face.

“Wow. What a tool.” Hunter’s voice fills your ear.

“That’s alright, thank you. Just the drive please.” You start to hand out your hand.

“Pity… Well in that case, I’m supposed to tell you,” He suddenly pulls a blaster out, keeping it low. “Cad Bane sends his regards.”

Kriff. Of course.

Acting quickly, you shove his hand away at the same time that he releases the trigger, sending blaster fire up into the air. You elbow him in the throat, making him double over in pain, gasping for breath, as you try to knock the blaster out of his hand. Suddenly, more blaster fire starts coming your way and you realize you’ve been set up.

All around you people scream as they scramble for safety in the casino.

“What’s happening?” Hunter’s voice is in your ear, panicked.

“Don’t worry about it. Keep the speeder running.” You grunt as you make for the balcony across the room, just hoping your heels hold up, pulling one of your blasters out and shooting at the people that are shooting at you.

“Don’t worry about it, she says, as blaster fire is literally firing around her.” Hunter mutters.

“Will you please shut up?” You snap as you start to climb over the side of the balcony, shooting toward the top of the building.

You look down for Hunter in the speeder but see him on a speeder bike instead.

“Where’s the speeder?” You yell.

“This is quicker!” He calls back.

With an annoyed groan, you stick your blaster back into your thigh holster and slide down the rope landing in Hunter’s lap, straddling his thighs while facing him. He lets out an ‘oof’ and takes off as people come running out of the lobby, shooting at the two of you.

“You could have let me climb off to get behind you.” You glare.

“No time. Hold on.” He revs the bike and starts going even faster through the undercity of Coruscant, causing you to press yourself to his chest.

You roll your eyes. “We were set up.”

“Yeah, no kriff.” Hunter rests his chin on your shoulder so you can see.

It almost feels natural… having him against you. You quickly push that thought away as you go to argue with him again.

“You know what-” You’re cut off as you realize people in speeders are after you, still shooting at you.

“A little help here would be nice.” He grunts, taking a sharp turn, trying to buy you some time so you can grab your blasters.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m on it.” You pull your blasters out of both thigh holsters.

When you try to situate yourself so you can shoot better, you only realize you accidentally brush up against Hunter’s crotch when he lets out a soft groan.

“Sorry…” You try. “Just shoot.” He says, through gritted teeth.

You immediately start to take out each shooter, precisely hitting each person so well that you can’t help but let out a chuckle.

“Crosshair would be so proud of me right now.” You compliment yourself.

“I’m sure.” Hunter grumbles as he shoots through an alley and then takes a hard right up into some sort of abandoned warehouse. When he thinks the coast is clear, he finally leans back, breathing heavily. You can’t even tease him about it, because your chest is heaving against his. With the deep glare that he’s giving you, his hate for you becomes evident.

“You know, you may hate me… and still not trust me… but I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me for the long haul.” You shrug, tucking your blasters back into your holsters.

“I don’t hate you.” He rolls his eyes.

“Then why-” You start but he crushes his lips to yours, shutting you up.

Every nerve ending in your body stands straight up and you fight between the urge to shove him off of you and also wanting more of him. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him closer and he grips your hips, grinding you against his hardened length, straining in his pants.

“You feel what you do to me?” He rasps against your lips, his voice full of need. “So, I don’t hate you, I’m-”

Without another word, your hands fall down to his zipper and pull his length free. His sentence is cut off as you rest your foreheads together, watching your hand expertly start to pump his cock. He’s thicker than you imagined he’d be. You’re definitely not complaining though.

“Fuck, mesh’la…” He groans, gripping your hips tighter.

The rumble of the speeder sends vibrations to your core and you can’t help the wetness that gathers in your panties, begging to coat Hunter’s perfect cock.

You raise up slightly, moving your panties to the side as you sink down on him and he lets out an incredibly loud groan while he grips you so tightly that you know you’re going to bruise. Maybe that’s what he’s going for. To remind you of today, no matter what happens when you get back to Ord Mantell.

You let out a soft gasp when his hands roam down to your ass and start to raise you up just to pull you back down onto his cock harshly. You’d been lying to yourself… You don’t hate him. You want Hunter just as bad, if not more.

He pulls your body flush against his, kissing your shoulder. “Been waiting for so long for this.”

You can’t help the needy whimpers that escape your lips for this man. The two of you had been fighting your urges for so long that you’d been convinced you hated each other. But now…

“Feels so fucking good… So perfect… made for me.” Hunter babbles incoherently and you grind against him as much as you can. You pull away to make sure you’re not slipping but he grips your chin and pulls your gaze back to his own. “Keep your eyes on me. I’ve got you, you’re not going anywhere.”

And fuck, if that isn’t the hottest thing a man’s ever said to you…

He takes your fingers and pulls them to his mouth, taking them in his mouth. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire. He knows exactly what he’s doing because he smirks around your digits before guiding your fingers down to your clit.

“Fuck… Hunter.” You groan, keeping your eyes on him, lips parted as the sounds echo off the metal walls of the warehouse as you rub your clit for him.

“That’s it, mesh’la… need you to cum for me so I can fill this pretty little cunt up.” He whispers gruffly and you nearly come apart just at those words alone. “If… if that’s okay with you.”

“Please.” You gasp with a desperate nod.

You’d never known Hunter had this side to him. Sure you called him dark and broody as a joke, but this was something else entirely. He’s looking at you with such voracity, that you don’t think there’s any coming back from it. You want him to look at you this way forever.

Pulling Hunter back in for a kiss so vehement, while still rubbing your clit, you near your edge. Your mind goes back to what he was saying earlier about not hating you. He didn’t give you a reason for acting the way he did.

“Hunter…” You whimper.

“What?” He rests his forehead against yours, still fucking you amorously.

When he looks at you, it’s with such a softness that you can’t help but melt.

“What…” You groan as he pushes you back on the speeder, reaching deeper into you with his cock. “What were you going to say… you don’t hate me… and?”

“Right now?” He asks, looking down between you with a breathless chuckle.

You nod as that familiar heat pools toward your warmth. “As… good a time… as any, right?”

The way he’s fucking you is absolutely ethereal. You don’t think you could go back to how things were before even if you wanted to. And you definitely don’t want to, right?

“Maker…” He grits with a breathy chuckle as you clench around him. “I’m- fuck… I’m in love with you, okay?”

As if that’s all you needed to hear, you cum, making his name sound like an entire prayer. Because that’s what coming around Hunter’s cock feels like. Absolutely spiritual.

He grins down at you and pulls you back up into his lap, wrapping his arms around you, fucking into you mercilessly, overwhelming both of you.

When his hips falter as he grips your sides, digging his fingers into you as he fills you up so fully that you spill out over the both of you. You can’t help but let out a soft laugh and then he lets one out as well.

“If I knew you’d react like that when I declared my love for you, I would’ve done it sooner.” He winks and you playfully slug him.

“You’re very lucky I don’t actually hate you.” You lean in closely and the breath in his throat hitches.

“I’ll say.” He agrees before crushing his lips to yours.

Neither of you are sure what’s next for you, but you’re already feeling more hopeful. Maybe it’ll help that you won’t be arguing for once when you break the news to Cid that the mission failed.

“I uh… actually wanted to show you something while we’re on Coruscant.” He coughs, awkwardly.

“Okay?” You look at him curiously.

He grins as he helps you off the bike to sit behind him again. You feel the slight run of cum start to drip down your thigh.

“Oh…” You look down and Hunter looks at your thighs as well, his grip on the handlebars tightening.

“Do you want to run by the ship and clean up before I show you the surprise?” He smirks.

“Please.” You nod, going warm in the face as you hop on the back of the bike. “I’d also like to change. These heels are the worst.”

He chuckles and relaxes into you when you wrap your arms around his waist and then takes off back toward the Marauder. It’s a strange feeling being so close to him after having so much distance between the two of you the past year.

“So, what is it with you and speeder bikes?” You ask him, resting your chin on his shoulder.

He shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“Yes you do.” You start to release his waist but he quickly grabs your arms and pulls them against him again.

“I’ve always wanted one. Since I saw one of the Alpha’s with one on Kamino when I was, you know, a “kid”.” He admits with a shrug.

“That’s sweet.” You kiss his shoulder. “We’ll get you one, one day.”

He pulls one of your hands up to his lips and kisses it and you can’t help but smile.

When you pull back up to the Marauder, Hunter helps you off the bike, like a gentleman.

“Didn’t know you had such a sweet side to you.” You tease as he pulls you against himself, looking down into your eyes with his own warm brown ones.

He smirks as he kisses you again. “Maybe we can shower… together… before I take you to that surprise.”

You find yourself desperate to have his mouth somewhere else.

“Yes please, Sarge.” You wrap your arms around him and he starts to lift you up but pauses as his ears perk up toward the Marauder and then pulls away to grab one of your blasters out of your holster, pointing it toward the hatch.

“Hunter, what is it?” You whisper.

All of a sudden, you hear a blaster shot come out from behind you and feel a bolt of electricity travel throughout your body. By the time you drop, you realize it’s too late and you’ve been stunned. The last thing you see before you pass out is Hunter going into attack mode.

TAGS: @twistedstitcher27 @misogirl828 @rebel-finn @rexandechosandwich @madameminor @dumfanting @rain-on-kamino @corona-one @tecker @ladykatakuri @brynhildrmimi @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @zoeykallus @maulslittlemeowmeow @littlemousedroid @arctrooper69 @rexxdjarin @agenteliix @padawancat97 @hated-by-me @sleepingsun501 @quigonswife8 @idlenesses @redheadgirl @themcuwriter @ashotofspotchka @sunshinesdaydream @crosshairsimp73 @ariadnes-red-thread @rosmariner @heyitsaloy @starstofillmydream @high-ct5555 @echos-girlfriend @sleepywych @nekotaetae @justanothersadperson93 @brownstalebread @aconstructofamind @book-of-baba-fett @chopper-base @palliateclaw @501st-rexster @dead-poolz @nahoney22 @where-is-my-mind-tho @jediknightjana @erishimoon @witching3 @queen-of-many-fandoms

#tbb hunter #tbb #tbb fic #tbb hunter x reader #tbb hunter x you

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redflagshipwriter · 8 months ago

Text

Reassembly 2

link to first post

Masterpost

(the one where Peter Parker wakes up post-snap in a LoA lazarus experiment)

It was New York City. Peter thanked his blessings and the transportation gods. He didn't wait for the train to stop because he was kind of afraid that it wouldn't and he'd get carried somewhere else.

If he'd been a regular teen, it would have been like, super dangerous to jump off of the top of a moving train and land on cement. Peter rolled like he'd been taught and came up safe. He shook his wrists a little as he straightened and tried to figure out where he was exactly.

Okay. Operation solo hero was a go. Here he was, in NYC. He didn't have any help. But he was Spiderman. Peter tried not to feel discouraged about losing all his tech, his friends, and his mentors. He could remake his web shooters and a suit. He needed access to materials, but he could do it. His first formula had been made in a school lab.

'But I wasn't homeless and undocumented then.'

Oof, that felt bad.

'Can I even keep my name? I can't exactly go to Midtown and tell them to make Peter Parker plural.'

Yikes. That was a whole lot of yikes.

Well. One problem at a time, right? He needed to get himself into a more stable position for survival first. Now that he knew where he was, he could change his strategy from calling for help to becoming self-sufficient.

He wasn't exactly sure what to do. The first thing that came to mind was that he needed more clothes. Even if he had liked this outfit, he definitely needed more than one set. This was gross. And honestly? He was kinda cold. And he was increasingly uncomfortable about not wearing underwear.

'I don't have any money and I can't borrow some. I can't steal from anyone. What can I do?'

Peter racked his brains. Go through the donation bins for a thrift store? That seemed wrong. But … stores throw things away.

'Department stores get new things all the time. They must be throwing away old clothes. If I check their dumpsters, I bet I'll find something.'

With a plan in mind, Peter made his way to the closest big store he knew about. Even though he was stranded, at least he was in his city. New York City was way more comforting than Metropolis had been. He navigated by memory to a store he knew called-

Huh. The store was where he thought it would be, but it had a different name. Peter quietly read it aloud, wondering if this place would have the same bland, safe fashion as where he'd meant to go.

Well. There was only one way to find out, and it wasn't by going inside. They were locked up for the night anyway.

He found the dumpsters. Peter braced himself for a moment, taking a deep breath.

He didn't feel good about this. He didn't. Not morally- if it had been thrown away, it didn't belong to anyone– but looking at the outside of a dumpster really hammered in the desperation he was in. He was poor. He had nothing and he had no one.

Peter shook that off. "That's not true," he told himself. Hearing a human voice, even his own, helped a bit. "I have a great sense of humor and a positive outlook."

Still, uh, he was ready for a lifestyle that included underwear. He carefully lifted the lid and rested it against the wall so that it didn't make any noise. Then he hopped up onto the rim and squinted into the bin.

There were big plastic bags full of fabric. His first impulse was to tear them open and look, but he refrained. It would make a mess for the garbage workers. Instead he painstakingly untied the string at the top and opened a bag. Then he pulled clothes out one piece at a time and examined them.

His heart fell. He'd been right. These were all perfectly good, unused clothes with the tags still on them, so he could even sort by size. But someone had taken scissors to them all before throwing them out. Peter held up a t shirt and squinted at it. It wasn't that bad, really. They hadn't been super thorough. This one had kind of a snip through the middle.

…it wasn't like he didn't know how to sew. He'd done lots of repairs that way, and even made a Halloween costume one year.

If he just stitched that up it would be kinda obviously repaired. That was okay, but Peter dug around until he found another T shirt in a different color. It was hard to tell in the darkness but he was pretty sure it was blue. It had a similar cut.

"Okay," he planned aloud. "I cut them fully apart, even out the edge, and then sew them together so it looks like being bi colored is a fashion decision."

He dug around for a couple more shirts, trying to get four different colors that in the daylight he could hopefully mix and match. Then he shoved everything back in that bag and tied it up. He hung his haul over the edge of the dumpster and started opening bags on a hunt for jeans. A pair of jeans and a pair of sweatpants was basically all the wardrobe a teenaged boy needed, anyway.

It took four bags until he found some, and they were too big. But the next bag under that had his size range. These had been snipped too, but Peter huffed a laugh. So what? Lots of jeans had tears in them as a style choice. He dug out two pairs and wiggled into them one after the other to check the fit. It was a relief to have his legs covered. They were kinda long but he was expecting a growth spurt any day now, so that was great. He was pretty sure one was black and one was blue, so that was a good variety.

He wanted underwear and socks. Maybe a heavier coat, if they had one. He searched and searched and came up with nothing. He did find a shoulder-strapped canvas bag that had probably been returned- there was a subtle stain on the inside. Peter would have preferred a backpack, but he shoved the clothes inside the bag anyway. This was a lot better than just walking around holding a handful of fabric. He put the little bag from the guy’s locker inside of it. He still hadn't even looked at what was in it.

Still. He stared mournfully at the clothes. No underwear, really? He was willing to compromise on socks, but underwear and shoes that fit were a big deal.

"I guess they don't need to seasonally change those so much." Peter sighed to himself. "Wait- no. That can't be right. For socks maybe but shoes? They must throw out a ton of shoes."

Just not today, apparently.

Disappointed, he closed the dumpster back up and adjusted his haul over his shoulder. He left without looking back. He was already churning through possible solutions for his outstanding problems. Socks, shoes, underwear, and a sewing kit so that he could use his changes of shirts.

'Fancy hotels have those little repair kits as part of the free goodies.'

Oh, man. Peter steeled himself for social embarrassment. He was going to have to wander in and out of hotel lobbies by himself, take a repair kit, and leave.

'Maybe they'll think I'm a guest,' he thought hopefully. 'I don't look that bad. I look kinda like I'm going to school or traveling light.'

Oh. That was an idea.

'Lots of hotels have free breakfasts. I could just walk in, eat, and leave. Even if the desk staff thinks I'm probably not a guest, they probably won't say anything.'

It seemed kinda wrong. But it was a buffet. Leftovers were going to get thrown away. And he only had to wait until the morning.

Peter tabled the idea for later. It was going to depend on just how hungry he got. He was already really hungry, if he was honest about it. Whatever bodily numbness he'd gotten from the green jello stank tank had worn off.

'I'm going to get too hungry to manage before too long even if I have a huge breakfast every day. I’m used to running on a lot of calories. What would happen to my ability to be Spiderman if I can’t eat enough?'

He shoved the realistic part of him down and tried not to feel discouraged by his demanding metabolism.

Focus. The first thing was fixing the clothes.

'No,' grumbled a mental voice he knew he should recognize. It was coming through a fog of distortion. Shelter is first, Spiderman. Shelter, water, food, and then supplies like clothes.'

He frowned and rubbed at his temples. He didn't know how to solve that problem. It seemed more practical to address the problems that he knew how to fix first.

Well. A hotel buffet would probably have drinks as well, but they wouldn't be open for a while. He didn't know what time it was but it was actually night.

At least he had a tentative plan for it.

Peter steeled himself for embarrassment and started looking for hotels. The first one he found was too fancy- the amenities weren't placed in the lobby. He walked in and his attention was immediately caught by the soft golden gleam of a bell on the reception desk. It was under a strategic light.

'This one won't be good for breakfast either, there's nowhere for a buffet,' Peter noted. Thankfully, no one was waiting at the desk. He walked back out and realized that would probably be the case for most places at this time of night.

He felt better going into the next hotel. This one had amenities out, but not a sewing kit. Peter took a toothbrush, two of the packets of wash products, and a cheap razor. Maybe this would be the time his facial hair started to come in and he'd need to shave.

'I really need a wash,' he noted, not for the first time. 'So bad.'

The green stuff didn't smell …too bad when dry. It definitely didn't smell as sour as it had tasted. But his skin itched and his hair was crunchy.

The third hotel was the winner. He had the idea to look for a cheaper hotel aimed at business class travelers. It had free wifi, what was definitely going to be a breakfast buffet from 5:00 am, and it had the sewing kit that he needed. Peter took one gratefully, wondered if it would have enough string, and then took a second kit just in case.

Okay. Next priority was getting clean. That would double up with getting water- now that he'd thought about it, Peter was thirsty enough to drink shower water from the faucet.

He looked for a gym. He found a fashionable 24 hour one and dismissed it. Entrance was clearly only by key cards there. He needed someplace older. At least this was his city. He could guess the general area that would have what he wanted. Peter walked around until he found one and wiggled his way up to the third floor, heaved open a window, and went in search of a shower.

"Good thing I grabbed this," Peter said, stripping all of his clothes and palming one of the tear-open packets of individual soap and shampoo. There was absolutely nothing in the shower in terms of amenities. Gym patrons probably brought their own stuff.

He took the longest shower of his life, wished he had a washcloth or two, and ended up using both packets of soap to get his body clean enough. Then he hauled his clothes in, all of them, and washed them as best as he could using what was left of the shampoo. He wrung them all out and then put on his new jeans, totally damp. It didn't feel great on his skin. But at least it was clean. For now, he put on one of the black t-shirts. He'd apparently managed to grab two in black, one in red, and one in blue. This t-shirt had a v- shaped cut on the stomach, but he pulled the brown jacket over and zipped it up enough that it didn't show. It was all damp and very weird, but they'd dry quickly on him since he was moving around, right?

When he looked at himself in the mirror, Peter looked like himself. Sure, he was damp and messy haired. But he was clean! He shot himself a thumbs up.

He left the rest of the clothes hanging to dry and wandered the gym. It was eerie but also really interesting. He'd never spent much time in an actual gym.

That might be a cool hobby to take up. If nothing else, he could maybe find some classes.

Oh! A clock. Peter squinted at it in the dark. It was 3:42 AM. It wasn't actually that long until the hotel breakfast bar opened, then. He'd been walking around all night.

'I need a way to tell time on my own. There's not that many clocks in public.'

The first thing that he came back to when he thought of his problems was money. Money, money, money. He needed it. And he needed ID- did the ID come before the money, or the other way around? He needed tech to be Spiderman and to live in general– man, it was weird to be without a phone– so, how?

His first thought was to go to school and use the laptops there. But he wasn't a student. That would probably freak people out- or worse, draw attention to him. Was it more illegal to exist without documentation, or to be a minor who wasn't in school?

Peter shuddered. Yeah, no high schools.

But a public library? That had potential. The computers were always pretty old but they were free to use.

That was most of an itinerary for the day, then, he realized. It made him feel better to have a plan. He was going to wait a while for his clothes to dry (should he point the blow dryer at them?), and shove them in his bag. He'd go back to the business hotel for breakfast and probably more soap, then go to the library.

'I need to eat a lot at that buffet.'

His stomach rumbled in agreement. Oh man, this was kinda bad. He had no idea how to get another meal today.

Well. He could look into it when he was at the library.

He ended up turning the blow dryer on his clothes to get them dry. They didn't seem any dryer than they'd been when he wrung them out. That made for a tense hour of pointing the little machine while his arm got tired and he kept jumping at sounds that might be someone coming to open up the gym.

Stupid, Peter chastised himself. Of course a couple hours in a humid room wasn't enough to dry anything. They'd get moldy first.

He got them dry enough to fold up and put in his canvas bag, and then he went out by the same window that he'd come in.

'I hope they don't start locking that. If I don't have a place to stay soon, I'm gonna really need these showers.'

It didn't take him long to get back to the business hotel. It was somewhere between 5 and 6, which meant that the buffet was fully out but not busy. Peter walked in and beelined to the food, trying desperately to look like he belonged.

Nutritionally, it was pretty good considering the circumstances. Peter grabbed an apple and a banana from the fruit bowl and got a glass of milk as well as orange juice. He wasn't going to get scurvy, at least!

Glass containers had a selection of baked goods that honestly all just looked okay. He picked out a couple of plain rolls and then something that had walnuts in it. For protein, his options were some queasy looking sausages and a tray of scarily yellow scrambled eggs. He took a generous portion of both and finally started eating.

Whoa. As soon as he'd had a few bites, it was like the dial turned up on his hunger. Peter ate at record speed and caught himself looking back at the buffet.

No one was looking. There was only one other person in the buffet area, a young woman staring grimly into a cup of coffee and using her phone. The receptionist wasn't paying attention at all.

Peter felt worse, somehow, about going back for seconds than he had about coming here in the first place. But he was too hungry for shame. He grabbed two bagels and toasted them at the same time and stuffed his pockets with cream cheese packets.

'I could take a bit of this with me. A roll or two and maybe a banana? Ugh, it's weird, but the cream cheese has protein in it…'

He put another couple of packets in his pocket. No one was going to count and realize he was taking two of them out the door.

While he waited for the bagels to toast he refilled his drinks and added a coffee and an apple juice. He felt ridiculous with four drinks, so he drained the milk and put the empty cup in the clean up bin.

He filled a second plate of sausages and scrambled eggs (they weren't that bad) and piled the bagels on it as soon as they popped up.

Once he'd eaten his second serving, Peter felt a lot more human.

He also felt exhausted. Like, he was beyond tired.

'I didn't sleep at all so that figures. And I don't have any idea where I can sleep today. So… maybe one more coffee while I wait for the food to give me energy I can use?'

He couldn't quite stand the idea of gulping down all that liquid right then. It seemed like a good time to see what was in the little bag he'd gotten from the probably evil scientist's locker.

'The guy worked somewhere that stores human bodies in rancid green jello. If he's not an evil scientist, it's only because he's an evil janitor or receptionist or something.'

That… It wasn't ideal but it made him feel a little better and a little braver.

The instant he unzipped the little bag, Peter realized that the guy basically had his whole life in the bag. That included a phone, which was either turned off or dead.

"Whoops," he muttered. He considered turning it on but paused. Would that be safe? He might need it. But what if someone realized it had been stolen and tracked it?

He left it alone for now and looked at the wallet.

The first thing was a Metro City transit card. Peter looked at it and put it back in place. There were a couple more cards- credit or debit, an expired gift card, membership cards to three different pizza places and a gym, and an ID. Peter glanced around guiltily to be sure no one was looking before he checked the name and photo.

Richard DeWitt was blonde, apparently 5ft 10 inches, and 170 lbs. He had a lopsided smile and dead eyes in his photo. Brown eyes.

DeWitt was 37- no, Peter corrected internally. He grimaced. He was 5 years in the past, so DeWitt was only 32. One of the ID cards was for work, which was a goldmine. Or it could have been, if the company name had been written instead of the initialism LOA.

Better than nothing, at least. He memorized the letters and logo.

The debit and credit cards were no good to him. Peter made a mental note to destroy them later, so that no one else could pull them out of the garbage and use them later.

He paused for a long moment over the cash. He felt like a spotlight was about to shine down on him and an announcer would call him a thief. But he counted it: 87 dollars. That wasn’t Tony Stark money, but there were a lot of problems it could solve for him.

'The money isn't the same as back home.'

His eye caught on the one dollar bills. He picked them out of the pile to look at them more closely, like an inspection was going to make them change.

Assuming DeWitt didn't have fake currency on him, the US dollar was different.

Peter stopped. He belatedly processed that.

There was no way in a million years that the picture on the dollar had changed in the last five years. It had always been the same guy.

But here it was, unmistakably a US dollar with a man Peter didn't know printed in the center.

That changed things.

'I"m not on my earth, unless this is a hallucination. Where else could I be!?'

He would like to stop having paradigm changing realizations, any day now.

The only thing that kept him from having a total nervous breakdown was that he was in public. Sort of. There was no one directly looking at him, but that would probably change if he went into the fetal position and started wheezing.

This was bad. This was really, really, bad, actually.

He needed to go back to the drawing board. For all he knew, there was no Peter Parker here, no Tony Stark, no one he could go to for help.

And the people who had kidnapped him-

Oh, hell. They could be anybody for all he knew. Heck, what if that was a government thing? If they didn’t even have the same presidents, he couldn’t assume this was the same country, in a sense.

‘I need to look into that, as soon as possible. What if I’ve got the universe equivalent of like, HYDRA or something looking for me? That would be a bad surprise.’

He had the address of that building, at least, and the name of an employee. That was something to go off of.

Peter forced himself to exhale long and slow. He picked up his mess. He didn’t finish going through the guy’s wallet but he didn’t have the nerves for it right now. He stuffed it back into his satchel and left with a nod at the desk clerk.

He needed information, and that meant the library was even more urgent. It was the only way he knew to access the internet.

The walk wasn’t too bad. His nerves were a knot in his throat as Peter crossed morning traffic on what had to be a weekday, but his memory of NYC didn’t lead him wrong. He bounded up the stone steps to a big library two at a time, shot a queasy smile at the man behind the desk, and ducked his head as he walked in and did a little tour of the place.

There were three floors. The first floor had a dedicated computer lab for students, and long desk with four computers for public use. Near it there was a little table with pitchers of coffee, water, and paper cups with a sign encouraging free usage. There was also a reading corner, a collection of tables for quiet group projects, and rows of media like DVDs. Wow, so old. Peter marveled at that on his way up the stairs. There was a huge papier-maché wolf on the stairwell for unknown reasons. He patted it on the head as he passed.

The second floor had that intense library smell to it and a lot of signs strictly enforcing absolute quiet. He craned to see tall rows upon rows with labels like science and law, as well as a sign for reserved meeting rooms and bathrooms. The third floor was apparently mostly for group collaboration. Each table had a sign begging people not to bring in outside food and to leave their drinks on the table. Peter glanced over to the only table that had someone at it already, spied her huge coffee cup, and suppressed a snort. He didn’t see anything, but he could smell bacon and eggs. His stomach twisted into a knot.

Still, she didn’t seem to be causing any terrible destruction with her breakfast sandwich. He noted that she had four different colored highlighters next to her notebook, but tore his attention away before he felt like a creeper.

Okay. He had the lay of the land. It made him feel weirdly better. This library was now his base of operations, the center for his information gathering campaign and the subsequent plan… construction …campaign?

He’d workshop a name later. For now, he jogged back down a floor and went to the modern history section. He just read titles for a while, trying to paint a picture of what shared history he could confirm.

He saw lots of familiar country names referenced, and a few of the names that cropped up were familiar as well. The eerie feeling that he wasn’t home just got stronger, though, because there was no reference to half the modern wars and much less on WW1 and 2 than he'd expected. They were shelved in with books about the Justice League.

Justice League?

There was a whole lot of scholarship on that, whatever it was. Maybe it was like the U.N., Peter guessed. He flipped open a book and flipped pages randomly, scanning for words that stuck out. Ah, nope, there’s a reference to the U.N. So, this was a different thing entirely.

Okay, well. That gave him a starting point of something to look up.

He went back to the first floor and started a session on one of the public use computers. He had to write the time and his name on a check in sheet. He started to write ‘Peter’ out of force of habit and scrawled to a stop after writing the Pe.

For all he knew, that could be a bad idea. He shouldn’t leave any record that actually led back to him.

‘...So what else starts with Pe?’

It took him an embarrassingly long time to come up with Peyton. He wrote that down, exhausted and relieved, and then realized he needed a last name too. Oh, heck. He wrote a random letter -K- and then searched his brain for a plausible sounding last name. He came up with Kensington and then sat down, idly wondering if that was actually a name or just like, a place in the U.K. or what.

‘...I only thought of that because it ended in ‘ton’ like Peyton,’ he had the delayed realization. ‘It sounds kinda cheesy together. Fakey.’

Okay. Realistically, no one was ever going to look at that register. So it was fine that he wasn’t good at lying on his feet. He probably needed to sit down and come up with a couple of fake names to use in future.

Well. Maybe he didn’t have to be that creative. He opened a window and searched ‘Tony Stark.’ His heart fell as he scrolled through the results.

Tony Stark didn't exist here.

There had been people with that name, don’t get him wrong. But they weren’t Mr. Stark. There was no Mr. Stark in this universe. He tried looking up current billionaires instead, just in case Mr. Stark had a different name. He flipped through their photos with a sinking heart. That guy was too bald, Mr. Stark would never have a mustache that silly, Mr. Stark wasn't that jacked, no, no, no.

He tried other names- Happy Hogan, Jamese Rhodey, Virginia Potts (he initially forgot that her name wasn’t really Pepper and ended up on a site for kitchen goods).

The result? No result, more like. Not great.

He tried celebrities. Musicians, actors, philosophers, everyone he could think of. Weirdly, lots of them popped up.

The difference seemed to be around 1940. Historical names came up the way that he would expect them to. But anyone who was modern just didn’t.

Out of extremely morbid curiousity, he googled Anne Frank. He found a semi successful novelist in her 90s who lived in Prague.

Peter put his face in his hands. Okay. Okay, he knew approximately when the universes or whatever had diverged. That was wild.

His hands were shaking. He got up, realized he didn’t have a reason to stand, and then went to pour himself a paper cup of the complimentary water so he didn’t feel like a crazy person.

This was a whole different world. He couldn't assume that his background knowledge was helpful.

That made him feel so safe and secure. Thanks, universe.

#marvel dc crossover #red reassembly #peter parker

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lemonpils · 4 months ago

Text

You Can Take It - Scaramouche x Lumine +18 NSFW

Authors Note: THIS IS SCARAMOUCHE, NOT WANDERER LMAO, this is before he was redeemed n shit lol. no tickling this time, just smut!! enjoy dom!scara btw

Summary: The fatui had finally caught Lumine, whilst she was chained up, a certain harbinger finds her and has a little fun. MINORS DNI PLS

She had been chained down for what seemed like hours, her arms above her head, legs spread to each corner of the table. She was still in shock, wondering how this all had happened...

How did this happen?

Lumine, in short, bit off more than she could chew.

The adventurers guild had requested help in finding a missing person, a young boy, blonde. And no, it wasn't Aether. Lumine had went to speak with the person that posted the advert, it was a young girl, the boys sister.

So naturally she felt her pain, and wanted to help in any way she could, the young girl explained that her brother wandered off down a trail near Chinju Forrest, she told Lumine that there was a Fatui camp near that specific trail. Lumine cursed to herself, the fatui had always been up Lumine's ass when it came to helping the people of Teyvat, and the fact that it was a young boy who had gone missing only made her anger build.

So there she was, sword in hand, walking down said trail as she looked for any signs to what had happened. She followed the freshest footprints she could see, and saw that they veered off the trail, down to the water.

"Shit." She thought, could he have drowned?

She hurried down to the water, looking for blood, pieces of clothing, anything. It was then that she saw something, a person. He was small, blonde. A sigh of relief washed over her as she approached him, though the expression on the boys face wasn't anything to what she was expecting, it was a fearful look, he seemed to be looking right at her.

"Did you get lost? Your sister has been looking for you sweetie." She spoke kindly, though his face made her worry.

The boy didn't speak, his expression lingered once more, she studied his eyes, and at that moment she realized...

The boy wasn't looking at her.

He was looking behind her.

She swiftly turned around, making eye contact to who ever was standing behind her. She only caught a glimpse before a syringe was injected into her arm, causing her vision to grow fuzzy, and her knees to buckle. She fell onto the sand, able to make out the mask of a fatui pyro agent as her eyes closed.

Now, where were we? Ah, yes.

She had been struggling in the chains, using any elemental power she could, but there was no budge. It seemed they had been preparing for her, the chains were immune to her abilities, shit.

Her arms tried to yank down, but the chains kept her taught and spread as she squirmed. She was almost about to call for 'help' when she heard footsteps walking towards the doorway of the room.

"Fuck, oh god, who's coming..?" She thought.

A voiced pierced her ears as the stranger spoke, though, it was no stranger, she knew exactly who it was.

"Well, look what we have here." It was none other than Lumine's least favorite pain in the ass, Scaramouche. He walked over to the table where she was bound, her milky skin glistening under the one lightbulb that hung in the middle of the room. His fingers reached towards her, but before he could even make contact-

"Don't fucking touch me." She snipped.

He smiled, that sadistic little smile. "Don't act like you don't love it."

She gulped, a tint of pink hitting her cheeks as he called her out, for some reason, this guy always made her lose her cool, made her feel- smaller, did she like it?

Yea, probably.

And he knew that, all too well. Scaramouche was anything but stupid, he noticed whenever they had their disputes that she would fumble her words, and that she let her eyes wander. He knew that there was something more to it, maybe this was a good time to test that theory?

"I'd ask how you ended up getting caught, but I dont really care." He chuckled. "All I care about now, is what I'm going to do next." He flashed that signature smile, that smile that sent tingles up her spine.

"You're sick."

"And you adore it." He nipped back, making her blush in defeat.

"Let's state the facts Lumine, you're stuck, you lost. You cant be for sure that you'll get out, so why not accept it and join the winners?" His voiced was laced with something, something lustful.

It made her quiver as his breath hit her neck, since when did his face get so close?

"I wont submit to your little game." Her voice was shaky, oh how that turned him on.

He chuckled, "I knew you wouldn't back down so easily, maybe I need to convince you then." Lumines heart sank, thoughts raced through her mind as she kept her eyes on him.

She felt a hand grab just above her knee, where her boots ended and her bare skin began. She whimpered. "Scara- dont fucking touch me- nHh!" His hand moved up, taking a handful of her thigh.

"Lumine, you need to learn when to shut up." His eyes were drinking her figure up as he spoke. Something about his tone caused her to stop speaking, hmm, weird.

Lumine let a moan slip out as Scaramouche massaged her inner thighs, caressing her silky skin. "My, what embarrassing noises you're making, you dont like this do you?" He smirked as her face reddened, only proving his point more.

She liked it, fuck that, she loved it.

"S-Scara... wait-" She felt his hands travel under her dress, resting on her hips as his face was still lingering above hers, the eye contact was maddening. "Dont speak." He ordered.

It was if she was finally realizing her own fantasies, and how this man made her feel, she felt dirty, she felt sleazy, but yet so, so turned on.

Her mouth closed as she nodded, a smile appearing on his face. "Glad you understand your place." His hands traveled up her dress, tracing the undersides of her breasts, he admired the softness of her skin with his fingers, and how she reacted to the smallest of grazes.

"Mmhh! Nhh.." High pitched moans seeped out like smoke, echoing through the room. "Oh? Did I find a spot?" He smiled, bringing his fingers up to pinch her nipples, which were already hard. "GhH-!"

She arched her back, only for his hands to meet her hips and slam her back onto the table. "Keep still, dont fucking move."

She nodded, and dissolved into moans once more as he began pinching and tweaking her nipples from under her dress, watching as she fought the urge to arch and squirm. "Look at you, this must suck huh? Unable to move, unable to stop me, and I just get to play with you till my hearts content. But, who am I to say that you dont fucking love it?" He chuckled, a whimper seeped out as she knew he was right.

His hands pulled out from her dress, but were soon back on her as he ripped said dress apart, straight down the middle, revealing everything. She shuddered as the cold air met her skin, leaving tingles in its trace. The tingers were suddenly replaced with a warm wet sensation on her chest.

His mouth had met her right breast as he sucked on her nipple, while his hand toyed with her left one. Lumine moaned hard, she threw her head back to help process the sensations.

"That's it, writhe in pleasure." He said between sucks, pinching her left nipple a bit harder.

"Scara-! Please- fuck..!" She moaned, followed by a hand meeting her throat, not pressing too tight yet. "Please what?" He eyed her.

She gulped, tears pricking her eyes.

"P-Please... Dont make me wait..." She whimpered, she wanted to feel him.

He scoffed, tightening his grip on her neck as she choked in pleasure. "Who the fuck do you think you are, making demands?" His free hand moved down, tracing along the line of her panties. "You dont get to make the decisions, as long as you're on that table." He glared, his fingers traveling beneath her underwear as he spoke.

"Do you understand?"

"Y-Yes..."

She moaned as two fingers brushed against her wetness, tracing the outside of her folds as she moaned. "Hhh-!" She gasped, feeling them massage and toy with the outside, barely giving her what she craved so dearly. His eyes kept their gaze on her pussy, and how it quivered when he teased it so lightly.

"What a slut, you're already soaked, see?" He held up his two fingers, already coated in a layer of her juices. She looked to see, but it was too late as she inhaled sharply as the same two fingers slipped into her entrance, not moving just yet.

"GhH!"

"Hmm, you're looser than I'd thought you be, you must be really into this huh? What a pathetic slut."

Fuck that turned her on.

She moaned as his fingers began pumping slowly, he pulled them all the way out only for him to push them back in. He kept a smooth pace, watching for her reactions. "Mhh-! Ah..! Fuck-!" The slowness of the speed was killing her, she wanted him to make her cry, maybe she was a slut, she didn't mind if it was for him though.

His pace began quickening, he pumped faster as his slender fingers felt her walls, and how they let him in so easily. "Mm, you like that? You like me fucking you with my fingers? Tell me Lumine, tell me you crave my touch like a fucking drug." He sped up, placing his thumb onto her throbbing clit as he began massaging it.

"I love it-! Fuck! Your touch- mhh! I crave it! Please-!" She moaned through her words as she obeyed, she had never felt so defeated, but in the best way possible. Scaramouche smirked as she spoke, never letting up the pace.

His fingers curled, finding that soft spongey place that made her almost weep. "Scara-! Please- fuck!" She pleaded through her moans. His pace, the never ending feeling of his fingers pumping into her, massaging into that soft spot, his thumb vigorously flicking against her clit, it was all so much.

"Please what? Please go faster? Harder? Use your words whore."

He scoffed, the hand that held her throat finally let go as it traveled to her chest, tweaking her nipples once more.

"Nhg-! Please- fuck..! Break- please! I need a break!" She pleaded, though her moans and body language told a different story.

His gaze was cold but sadistic, the words he spoke after almost made her cum immediately.

"Hmm, nah. You can take it." He torturously massaged into her aching G-spot, watching the tears spill down her cheeks as his thumb kept its place on her clit. He watched as she whimpered, her body almost begging for release.

"Archons-! Fuck... I cant- hhh!" Her voice was shaky and full of pleasure, knowing full well that he wouldn't let her cum so easily. "What's wrong? Dont tell me you're already done." He smirked, his face closing down on hers as his fingers worked away. "Scara please- oh fuck..! I cant- Im gonna cum-" Her words were cut off as the hand that was on her chest slapped over her mouth.

"If you cum without my say, Ill make you orgasm so many times you wont even be able to fucking think. Am I understood, slut?" He spoke with a certainty that almost terrified her. She nodded as his fingers continued to pump into her, on the verge of becoming numb with pleasure. "Good." His hand pulled off of her mouth, allowing her to take a large inhale before moaning loudly once more.

All Lumine could feel was the overwhelming pleasure of Scaramouche's skilled hands, how they so effortlessly fingered her cunt and forced her to buck her hips, how his thumb only had to gently massage into her clit to make her cry in ecstasy. She was well aware he was turned on by her suffering, and that she was turned on from his torture.

He took in her expression, her cheeks were stained with tears and her eyes were puffy from crying. He loved it, though he thought he would strike a deal, not without him having some fun first.

He paused his hands for a moment, giving her a small breather. "How's this, if you can last without cumming for thirty seconds, I'll give you the orgasm you so desperately crave, sound good slut?" He smirked, he was planning something.

She nodded, unable to speak as her voice was only able to produce whines and whimpers.

"Alright, lets begin."

At first, he just began fingering her again, two inside, his thumb on her clit. She moaned hard, followed by a sharp inhale, she suddenly felt something strange, it seemed to come from his fingertips. Wait, was that...

....electricity?

Scaramouch chuckled as he began sending little shocks through the tips of his fingers, zapping her throbbing clit and her soft spongey insides. Lumine screamed in pleasure.

"Fuck-! Nhh! Ah-! Scara- please! Ahh!" At this point she was sobbing, the overstimulation was too much, her hips bucked and her back arched, the torturous sensations continued their onslaught.

"Twenty seconds left." He said bluntly.

A pained moan escaped her as she nodded, trying her hardest to keep the build up inside. She wailed in pleasure as he focused the shocks on her clit, the sadistic bastard...

He watched her fight through it, and how she looked so fucking hot writhing in agony.

"Ten seconds."

She moaned hard as he continued the onslaught, somewhat impressed with her ability to stay so strong. He increased the shocks during the last five seconds, watching her scream.

"Times up, now cum for me slut." He smiled devilishly.

And with that, Scaramouche fingered her cunt through her climax, watching it spew out between his fingers as he moaned in overstimulation.

She gasped for air as she felt his fingers finally pull out from her, dripping with her cum. "My, quite the mess you've made." He shoved his fingers into her mouth, making her taste herself.

"Better clean them up then."

Her mouth closed around his fingers, feeling her own essence drip down her throat. He pulled his fingers out, enjoying the messy sight before him.

"You did better than I thought." He smiled.

"...thanks." She said with a hoarse voice.

It was then that his lips met hers, a tender sloppy kiss ending the night.

He pulled back, walking to her wrists and unchaining them, as well as her legs, he watched her instinctively curl up into a ball, probably sore from being chained up for a few hours. He thew her a spare set of clothes from a chest in the corner, speaking more softly then before.

"The room is going to be unmonitored for another few hours, once you leave, I'm going to say you escaped, understood?" His hand cupped her face.

"...huh? You're letting me go?"

He scoffed, "What, surprised slut?"

She pushed her hair back, taking in his expression. "Somewhat, I didn't really think you would-" She was stopped as he kissed her again, pushing back onto the table.

"God you talk too much, are you going to fucking leave? Or am I going to have to make you orgasm again." He scowled, but his eyes were much sweeter than normal.

"I will, but..." She pulled him into another kiss.

"...in a bit."

#genshin impact #smut #genshin smut #dom!scara #sub!lumine #degredation kink #genshin fanfic #scaralumi #wanlumi #edging kink #overstim kink

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pianocat939 · 3 months ago

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I haven’t posted in a longgggg time. Mostly because I’ve been on the grind for some video games + money to buy a new saxophone because my girlie is LIVING on tape rn ;-;

Anyway, this is just…a random idea I’ve thought of. I don’t have big plans yet, but just a little something to get me back to writing again.

So this idea is inspired by both Monster High and Monsters University. And the thing that might make this a shitpost is acrually the heavy design inspo from Mike Wazowski…save me from my brain-

Tw: Drugging, Needles (very brief), no consent mini surgery (installment of a device), implied stalking

So, MC is at university doing whatever studies they wish. Of course, they get assigned to a dorm to make transportation easier.

(MC can be human or any creature you choose, I’m bullshitting here)

Upon first entrance, their roommate happens to be some cyclops dude trying to cut his hair. Just…casually cutting his hair. Miserably. The more he cuts, the more it looks like a bowlcut.

(Now, unlike Wazowski, he actually is tall and has a proper body and head. More similar to the Ancient Greek myth than Mike. However, minus the giant part.)

MC is kind of feeling awkward but tries to introduce themselves. But he’s just snipping away, while talking. He’s quite friendly, but more quiet.

It’s only until he’s about to chop off a huge chunk that MC offers to do his hair since it’s about to be a borderline disaster. He agrees.

So somehow MC is stuck with trimming hair while they get to know him better.

He talks of how he’s a computer engineering major. How he’s building some grand PC of his own to game on.

Then he mentions how his family immigrated from Cyprus and has been living in [country idfk] ever since. Then goes on a ramble how despite his family’s culture he is the biggest hater of olives. He mentions mother complains to him he is avoiding his true nature.

But then, he asks MC, “If you had to offer your heart to let someone survive, would you?”

Of course, MC is stunned and is confused why he’s asking such a question. But answers soon enough.

He smiles. His one eye squinting with happiness.

“I would. I absolutely would. Especially since it took me so long to find you.”

Before MC could question him, they feel his hand quickly grasp away the scissors. His agility is a mystery. He then gets some form of spray can bottlefrom his hoodie pocket and sprays their face.

A suspicious, cheap looking can. MC starts freaking out: the chemical smell, his strange statement and question, and even his facial expression creeping them out too.

But then, they start feeling woozy. Weak. Extreme weakness you could call it. Having to settle themselves on the nearby seat. Their mind shutting down quickly.

And in moments slump over the backrest of the chair like they’re sleeping.

The cyclops just continues to smile. Before reaching to pet their hair. “I lied. I never was a computer engineering major. I’m actually a chemical engineering major.” He swishes a hand through his hair. He then comments, “Not bad at the cut.”

Before he drags them to a different room. The room is already decorated with things they would tend to enjoy. The colours, furniture, and items.

He tucks them into bed. Before leaving the room briefly, getting a tiny device (like lady bug small) with a needle attached to it. He leans down and pricks their neck, installing the device. He settled it deep enough to hide, but not enough to cause permanent damage.

He finished the installment off with a bandaid. Giving one last pat to their head before leaving the room.

——————————————————

Similar to what I said before, this isn’t a fully established idea. Just something I thought of while doing random things.

Now, just a bit of explanation because that’s what I love doing. So, he has in fact been stalking MC before this event. I’m not sure how/when yet, but definitely for at least a year.

The suspicious can of chemicals he had is actually something he engineered himself. It’s just a chemical that can knock someone out for less than half an hour, while also having the side effect of losing their recent memory.

The device he installed is a tracker. A very detailed one.

I don’t have a name for him. And idk if I’ll ever will, but just know he is in fact evil Mike Wazowski. /j

I’m thinking to add other characters to this idea I have. Including more ladies because I realized I rarely ever write women. And we need some.

Alright I need snoozers.

- Celina

#yandere #yandere x reader #Yandere imagines #cyclops #yandere cyclops #Yandere ideas #it’s giving Mike Wazowski but evil

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thenanbakacorner · 3 months ago

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Hello! Welcome back! So good to see you again! How have you been? May I please have a scenario with Juugo and Musashi when another one of The Man With The Scar's experiments comes to the prison with ice abilities? She doesn't want to start trouble, but her power is directly connected to her emotions (like if she's scared, entire glaciers form in the immediate area). She's cooperating with Yozakura with his investigation. Then one night, Elf comes and activates her power so she can't control it, and the prison is encased in ice. How would Juugo and Musashi handle it if they thought the only way to break through is to kill her, but then it's suggested that "you're not alone anymore, we're here for you" and a tight hug is enough to pull her out of the despair?

Haiii! I've been good, thank you!! (´∀`)

Ooh interesting idea! I snipped it down to the point where Elf shows up, otherwise this post would be wayyy too long (^^ゞHope you enjoy regardless!

I/N = Inmate's Name

* * *

🔓🔥 "You're not Alone." - Musashi + Jyugo comforting Ice Powers inmate Scenario 🔥🔓

Musashi and Jyugo first heard of I/N after word got out between the inmates about how she encased half her building's block in ice, and it was also rumored on how she was experimented on to lead to these powers manifesting.

Both Musashi and Jyugo talked about whether or not it was possible that she had been a victim of the Man with the Scar, and they agreed- yeah- it's quite possible.

One day, Elf shows up while she's in training, and causes her powers to go haywire. Starting with Building 5 where she had been, the prison quickly becomes the equivalent of Antarctica, ice covering nearly the entire island.

Chaos ensues, and when Momoko realizes the situation at hand, she orders for the other experiments- Jyugo and Musashi- to be sent to the inmate's location. Perhaps being people who underwent experiments like she had, they might be the key to stopping her, one way or another.

Hajime and Kenshirou rush the two inmates to the ice spike-covered training ground, where I/N was on the ground, clutching her head as ice continued to spew out, covering the ground and area all around her body.

Hajime suggests killing her, stating that this situation is too out of control, and he doubts there'd be any other way to stop it. Kenshirou however shuts that idea down, saying there must be another way other than needless violence and bloodshed.

Jyugo during this conversation is staring out at I/N, heartbroken to see her like that. He understood her pain, and he just couldn't stay on the sidelines. He runs toward her, calling for Musashi to follow.

The pyrotechnic is hesitant for a moment before darting after Jyugo, and the guards watch, quite stunned to see the two going right into the danger zone with seemingly no plan.

Jyugo dodges patches of ice and spikes as they nearly impale him, getting a cut on his arm in the process. Musashi follows directly behind Jyugo, relying on his own heightened senses to keep him from harm.

When Jyugo and Musashi get to I/N, she's sobbing, telling them to back away before they get hurt-- that she can't stop. That it hurts. That she's scared.

Jyugo's heart shatters with each cry, and he thinks as hard as he can, unsure what to do to help-- but there had to be something. Anything.

Musashi ends up speaking after a moment.

"I/N.. it's okay. You're okay." He steps closer, kneeling down in front of her. "You gotta try and calm down."

I/N sobs out that she can't calm down. That everything is too much. She's so scared, she's alone-- nothing can help.

Jyugo, following Musashi's lead, kneels down as well.

"You're a victim of.. him, aren't you? The man with the scar?" He gently asks, reaching out a hand toward I/N cold, ice ridden body. "We are too. We're here to help you. You're gonna be fine."

I/N manages to open her eyes, the tears in them freezing as they drip down and solidify against her cheeks.

"That's right. You're not alone anymore. We're here for you."

Musashi nods at Jyugo's words, his own hand coming out to gently grasp I/N and pull her in towards them. He and Jyugo hug her tightly, ignoring the way the ice on her body stung their skin.

I/N is still for a moment before whimpering and hugging them back, sobbing against their clothes. Slowly, the ice around them starts to melt, and her own body starts to warm up again.

Hajime and Kenshirou are left speechless as they watch it all melt, the mess that had become of the prison fading away with each passing second.

Eventually, everything is calm again, and the ice has completely melted. Jyugo, Musashi and I/N remain in their embrace as Kenshirou turns to Hajime, telling him to report to the Warden.

With a nod, Hajime turns, making a fast paced journey back to the office to let Momoko know that the situation has been resolved. He just can't believe that those two managed to stop her the way they did. At least there won't be a massive cleanup; saves him some extra work.

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thylacines-toybox · 5 months ago

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Hello! My name is Arden :>

You seem pretty knowledgeable about plushies so I thought I'd ask you about some stuff I've been having trouble with.

My build-a-bear Vaporeon, Pearl, has gotten a little worn. Her legs can't quite hold her up anymore. Do you have advice on trying to add or move stuffing so she can stand again?

I've been wanting to make custom plushies (one of my favorite human character, an alien cat, and a worm-on-a-string type oc) but I can't run a sewing machine or make patterns. I also only have limited fabric patterns and textures and have no clue where to begin.

I wanted to start a side blog similar to this one, but I'm not sure how to photograph my plush, because all my photos come out with bad lighting and innacurate colors. How do you do your photos?

Thank you for any advice! I really appreciate it!

Hi! Well, let's see...

Moving stuffing inside your Vaporeon is definitely possible, even without any sewing! See here for a little guide on how I do that with just a long needle. However, if she does need topping up, a Build a Bear is easy to add stuffing to as the closing seam where they were stuffed originally is easy to find again. Find it and carefully snip the thread, then shove stuffing down into her legs and add a little more on top, and sew her closed again with a ladder stitch.

For learning plushie making, well, you don't always need a machine or pattern making skills to get started (and really, who has pattern making skills before they begin? That comes with experience and trying things!). Hand sewing takes time, but with patience it can do anything a machine can do.

There's definitely human and cat patterns out there to buy or for free that can be edited to suit you. And a worm would be simple to try yourself, you'd probably only need one shape x2! Even if your dream designs are a bit complex for now, just try making up a simple little guy from someone else's pattern, and you'll probably just get a new OC out of it... And if you're very, very new to sewing, make a tiny square pillow!

You might be wary of jumping right in with fancy fabrics, and that's fair. Try out something like fleece which is cheap, but fairly cuddly, stretchy, and very forgiving for beginners. Minky is pretty good value and also easy to work with too! Nice faux fur is expensive and hard work honestly, the longer it is the more annoying it is...

For photos, honestly I can relate to lighting struggles! My room's windows are a bit small and especially in the winter it can just be too gloomy. I will always try to take my pics during the day with as much natural light as possible, usually on a backdrop of fabric smoothly draped over my desk chair or side table, and I'll usually step back and zoom in slightly to get a nicer angle. Honestly, I just have a pretty decent phone camera... I'll usually tweak the colours and brighten up the shadows a bit before posting.

#thyl-ask-ine #not toys #plushie advice

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the-apocrypha · 7 months ago

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Anything you'd like to share on CC8?

(for the WIP game)

Weelllllllll. CC8 was originally going to be a series of short vignettes post-wolf heart that would touch on various little moments. Instead I ended up writing 5k on one particular moment, and have not actually moved on to any of the others. In order to not too obviously spoil what this first 5k vignette is about, you can have a deleted scene instead!

“Also,” Dream says. “Perhaps. I have been reorganizing the larder.”

“What, little by little, each day?” Hob says, incredulous.

“Yes.”

“We can’t possibly own enough food to even fill a shelf, let alone require four days of organization.”

“Perhaps,” Dream says stiffly, “I am trialing different layouts each day.”

“Why?”

“An excellent question,” Dream snips. “For as soon as you have the mobility to do so, you will doubtlessly return the larder to the chaos that you prefer post haste.”

“It’s not chaos,” Hob protests immediately. Familiarly. “I know exactly where everything is. There is a method.”

They’ve done this particular bit to death and back again. It feels simultaneously surreal and thrilling to bring it back to life again, here, in this new place.

“Then explain the method,” Dream says, as he is supposed to.

Hob’s line: “It doesn’t need explaining.”

“It does. Or rather, by definition, in order to be a method it must be capable of explanation, and since you cannot, we are therefore forced to conclude that you do not actually have one.”

“But you can’t deny that it works,” Hob counters.

“At ensuring no one but yourself will be able to readily locate the ingredients they need? Yes. Very useful, indeed,” Dream says drily, in his turn. “If, for example, we ever need to stop a stranger from assembling a stew too quickly? Or something similarly life-saving?”

“Just because it’s too complex for you to understand—”

“And to be explained, apparently.”

“—despite decades of royal education—”

“My tutors did not cover peasant lunacy.”

“—the fact is that the organization of the larder,” Hob says regally, “falls to the person who uses it—”

But he stops, because the script suddenly mismatches, and reality realigns.

The larder is no longer Hob’s domain. He hasn’t even stepped foot in it. He hasn’t been out of this bed yet.

“Most,” Dream finishes.

“...Yes,” Hob agrees.

“Which would be me, for the foreseeable future,” Dream continues, sliding silkily into the regality that Hob had so abruptly lost. “And so I will organize it as I like, and enjoy this brief holiday of rationality, before you drive it back into madness once more.”

Hob scowls. “Don’t get too comfy in there.”

#cottagecore verse #dreamling #sandman #this is v unpolished but hopefully still entertaining

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rivnedell · 5 months ago

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I'm so excited to see your writing! Would love a snip of "Under the Stars" and also "Until the Sun Rises" if you're feeling generous! :)

Omg thank you, so happy you asked for Under the Stars ✨

A bit of context : Ben Kenobi has been hiding on Tatooine since after the Purge, and the Inquisitors are after him. One especially. Reader has met him on their way back from work to their respective shelters, and the Jedi may have become fond of her. Like a lot.

Your two bodies ended up being pressed against one another, some shelves on your left were obstructing you from any movement and the sliding door was sealed on your right, wrapping you into absolute darkness. You felt your chest rising and falling under the scope of struggling breathing, though you found the strength to whisper,

“Why did you drag me here ?”

You had no idea of the tightness you had been put in, until when Ben responded to you, and when you felt his breath, grazing your cheeks and on the corner of your lips.

“I- I wanted to protect you,” Your legs melted at his words, and your lips pressed together to suppress a soft moan.

The warmth of your two bodies began to make you feel dizzy, and intoxicating when Ben’s hands caged you against the wall. The reality of the situation brought back you to why you were standing there, and you freaked out. You knew Reva was here and what she was capable of. You saw her before.

Your eyes opened wide, seeing nothing, when you heard what you remembered as her weapon, a blinding red lightsaber. Even the sound coming from it was like a grunt of anger and agony.

Tears started to came wet your eyes, your breath to become unheaven.

“Ben, why do they want you ? Why does she want you ?” You sobbed, your palms landing on his chest. Your fingers curled again on his tunic, never wanting to release him.

Lost in your tears, you felt him embracing you, his strong arms creating a shield around you, a hand of him coming caressing your hair, and his beard chin landing on the top of your head. A long sigh came out from your mouth as the warmth of his body was soothing you and your eyes closed, your face buried in his chest.

“Fear, Anger, and Hatred,” He muttered, grave, calm and straight. You gulped as you felt his lips landing on your forehead, causing a wider mess in your heart.

✨

There it is ! I'm so nervous, I never shared a bit of my stories, ty so much for asking, hope you liked it ! @split-spectrum I've already posted a reply with something for Until the Sun Rises if you're curious (just the general concept of the fic) ☀️

#fic: under the stars #ask game #ask reply #wip game #writing community #writing wip #my writing #star wars #fanfic #ben kenobi #obi wan kenobi #sw fanfic #ben kenobi x reader #writing snippet #text post #mine #my fic #star wars fanfiction

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jasntodds · 1 year ago

Text

Petrichor [10]

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader (little bit of fwb)

Words: 17,399

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, angst, canon drug use, drug use (don't do drugs), blood, bruises, injuries, look the anti-fear drug turns perfectly innocent people into raging murderers and makes them do things they would never do and that's all I'm gonna say for that one, canon violence, violence, mentions of abuse

Summary: ❝Pylades: I’ll take care of you. Orestes: It’s rotten work. Pylades: Not to me. Not if it’s you.❞

Gotham is home, not just for Jason but for you, too. And now that you’re both finally back home, together, you’re ready to see where this next chapter brings the two of you. He’s your best friend and you’re his. And you both might want a little something more with being back home, the place you both feel most comfortable. Surely, nothing could possibly go wrong now.

A/N: I'm sorry this is extra late lol some personal stuff happened and editing has been hard lol then I was sick so here we are I'm so sorry!! You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

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Instead of providing Dick with any sort of explanation you can think of, you decide you'll meet up with Jason instead. Dick knows he's alive and he's going to want answers which means you're going to be the one interrogated by him. But, Jason tried to kill Dick tonight and that is sending up a large red flag that almost makes you want to tell Dick everything. So, you figure you can meet up with Jason and hope he gives you a good enough reason to either keep your mouth shut or to spill what you know to Dick. Something is off and it's more than just Jason coming back from the dead.

You head outside to the front steps of the Manor. The only people awake are just you and Dick anyway, but you want to be outside for this one. You take out the burner and press redial.

"Shouldn't you be getting some damn sleep?" Jason answers.

"Shouldn't you?" You quip back. "Heard you had an eventful night."

"Fair enough." He remarks but he sounds tired.

"Can we meet?" You ask bluntly.

"Now?" Jason huffs, looking around his hideout that's lit up with lamps on the floor.

"Yeah, now." Your voice is flat and usually Jason can read what you're up to but not now.

"Why?" His brows knight together as the word is slow to leave his throat.

"I can't want to see you after you just fought the Titans?" You ask, a slight snip in your voice.

"You gonna bitch about it?" Jason quips back getting the idea maybe Dick told you what happened or Gar.

"No." You lie.

"Fine. Remember that alley the day we did that bust at the warehouse in Crime Alley?"

"Yes?"

"Meet me there. Leave now." Jason says quickly before hanging up.

You pull the phone from your head, looking at it. Now that's also a bit uncharacteristic of him. He always says it. He always tells you he loves you before he hangs up. Your heart plummets to your stomach. You made the Pet Sementary reference to him but you didn't think it would be literal. Now, you're starting to think maybe it is.

The idea that just because you can bring someone back from the dead, doesn't mean you can bring someone back from the dead. Something about them is different, there's a change. Like a part of their soul or something gets left behind. The good parts of them stay behind but everything else is what gets to come back. You know that's not entirely true because of how he was with you when you met up the first time. That can't be it. But there is something. And it's eating at you.

Jason, on the other hand, he knows you. He knows you want to meet up to check on him, yes. You’ll always want to check on him after any sort of fight with anyone. It’s what you do. But, he also knows you’re going to have questions about him attacking Dick and the other Titans. You tipped him off, sure, but maybe you didn’t think he was going to actually attack them. He knows you’re going to question him about it, probably lecture him. He doesn’t want to listen to it. He can’t listen to it. A part of him will want to break if he does and he knows it. He knows he will if he goes there clean. So, he doesn’t. He hits the inhaler and pockets it before heading to the alley.

Jason gets there first, hiding in the shadows until you show up. You’re on your bike, completely suited up. You don’t want anyone seeing you with him. Not the real you. Red Hood is pissing off a lot of people and you already have enough shit you’re dealing with. The last thing you want is a target painted on your civilian self for being seen with him.

You dismount the bike, popping the helmet on the handlebar as you look around. Jason walks out from the shadows, wearing the suit and the helmet. Of course, he is.

“I’m fine.” Jason states. You don’t like how the helmet makes him sound.

“Yeah, well, had to see for myself.” You let out a breath as you close the rest of the distance between you.

“You don’t have to worry about me anymore.” Jason takes the helmet off and he isn’t smiling or grinning. His expression is flat and your heart starts to sink.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean, Jay?” You shake your head, Jason getting a hint of annoyance in your voice.

“I mean I’m fine.” He rolls his shoulders, his voice flat.

Your eyes are scanning over him and it’s dark but you’re pretty sure he doesn’t have any bruises. It seems either the helmet and suit did a good job of protecting him tonight or Dick didn’t get a hit in. That’s at the very least a small relief but Jason Todd has never been fine. You’re starting to think he doesn’t actually know the definition of the word.

“Right. You have said you’re fine a hundred times and not once have you actually been fine.” You cross your arms over your chest.

Jason’s teeth grit for just a split second. “Don’t fucking worry. I told you. I got this handled.” Jason holds the helmet on his hip, his stance strong and sturdy.

He’s different than he was yesterday. He was grinning and smirking because it’s him. Whenever he claims to be fine, he gives you a grin as if that’s going to melt your worry away. But, not tonight and he seems bored and defensive.

“Why are you being so…weird?” You raise a brow at him.

Jason brushes you off, thankful for the drug coursing through his system. He’d never be able to deal with this without it.

“I’m not weird.” Jason defends.

“Yeah, you are. You’re acting weird.” You argue.

You don’t get it and maybe you won’t ever. But, this is him now. He’s not acting weird because this is the new him. Red Hood, fearless. He has no worries or fears anymore, just a mission. Jason swears he’s not acting weird, you’re just expecting the old him.

“This is just the new me.” He lets out this sort of chuckle that doesn’t sit well in your stomach.

“Uh-huh. Right. You seemed…kind of normal last time but now you seem…off.” Your eyes scan over his face and your heart is in your throat, the formula running through your mind.

“Just glad to be doing what Bruce couldn’t.” Jason holds his head up high with ease.

“This conversation is going fucking nowhere.” You let out a sigh as you look to the ground.

You came here with the intent to be sure he’s fine. It was to get some sort of answer. A real, solid reason not to tell Dick anything. Dick is going to have so many questions when you get back tonight. All of them will be about Jason and what his new plan is now that he’s alive. You need a reason to keep what you do know to yourself and Jason is giving you every reason to be worried enough to talk to Dick.

“So, go home.” Jason scoffs but he’s not even offended or upset. It’s like he doesn’t even care.

Your attention snaps back to him. “What the fuck? I’m worried about you and you don’t even care?”

It’s not that he doesn’t care. The drug numbs part of that but not entirely. It can’t otherwise they wouldn’t be able to have a plan in the first place. Jason has to be able to care about the city and the people he’s trying to protect otherwise there is no plan. It’s not that he does not care, it’s that he doesn’t care to go through the arguing in circles game while you dig for information.

“What else did you want? I know you want something else.” Jason dodges the question on purpose, knowing he won’t even feel guilty about it.

A lump forms in your throat as he dodges the question. He comes back to life and is, generally, normal but now he’s not? How is that even possible?

“Dick knows you’re alive.” You swallow the lump and if he’s going to pretend like this doesn’t hurt him, fine, you’ll do the same.

“Yeah, broke my other helmet, had a backup though.” Jason looks down to the helmet on his hip and then back to you with ease, the very corners of his mouth twitching into a grin.

“Oh, I’m so glad you have a spare helmet, Jason.” You snark through a scoff. “Unbelievable.” You look down and this is not how you wanted this to go. “Why did you try to shoot him?”

“He was in the way.” Jason answers casually.

The Titans are going to get in the way and Dick is the leader. Without him, the Titans will fall apart. Crane is right about Dick. He thinks he’s better than Jason. He thinks he’s the golden child, and he always was to Bruce. Bruce couldn’t even be bothered to kill the Joker for Jason but he would have for Dick. Dick dropped him from a skyscraper. Dick got him kidnapped and tortured. This all comes back to him and Bruce.

Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head and you’re sick of the games with him right now. “Are fucking joking!?” You finally yell. This isn’t funny. Dick is his brother, he’s your friend. He could have killed him. What the fuck is wrong with him?

“Nope.” Jason gives you a grin. The drug loves confrontation.

This is not the Jason you once knew.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You glare up at him. “He’s in your way? Well, damn Jason, maybe don’t attack the fucking Titans.” You gesture your hands out as you shrug your shoulders.

Jason’s blood starts to boil as you yell. You swore you weren’t working with them but from where he’s standing, it sure as shit seems like you are. Crane said you would. Crane said you’d start working with them the second you found out what he was doing. Maybe he was right and it’s pissing Jason off. You’re supposed to be on his side.

“I thought you weren’t fucking working with them.” Jason seethes. You lied. You lied to him. Of course, you’re working with them. Maybe Crane was right about you, too.

But you tipped him off.

“I’m fucking not! But I give a shit about them. In case you forgot, Dick saved my life twice. Gar is our best friend. Conner saved your life. Kory fucking tried to save our lives. I know you care about them. Why the hell would you go after them?”

“Dick treats me like shit. I’m fucking no one to him. He thinks he’s so much better than me.” Jason scoffs. “You said Rachel was his lap dog, but look at you now.” Jason laughs cruelly as he closes some of the distance between you. “You’re the one screaming at me and defending him.” Jason shakes his head, looking down at you.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he were trying to intimidate you.

Maybe you don’t know better.

“You tried to kill him! He pisses me off sometimes, too but I don’t want him dead! I’m not his damn lap dog, either. I just don’t know what the hell is going on. And you won’t fucking tell me.” You grit your teeth, standing toe-to-toe with him.

“That’s because it’s none of your fucking business, but don’t worry, babe, you’ll see soon enough.” Jason offers this grin that you can’t tell is him taunting you or threatening you. And from here, with him nearly standing on top of you, you can see his eyes better.

His pupils are dilated and your heart is suddenly in your throat. On the one hand, making a drug and selling it to innocent people is really bad and you were hoping that was not it. But, on the other hand, a part of you thinks him taking something is worse in a way. The formula screams from the back of your head and Dick’s general concern about it, Jason’s weird and erratic behavior before he died. Him going after the Joker. He’s definitely high and you have no fucking idea how you missed that either or what even lead him here.

“Literally, are you high right now?” You question him, hoping against all odds whatever he’s on will make him tell you, like an overconfidence thing. “Because the Jason I know wouldn’t be laughing and trying to kill the Titans. The Jason I know wouldn’t be being such a fucking dick to me right now.”

Jason lets out a laugh, ignoring your question because he’s not playing into your hand. “So, go home.” There’s a wicked look in his eyes as he looks down at you. And it hurts. “This is me, new and improved.” There’s almost something threatening in the way his eyes darken to the deepest shade of evergreen you’ve ever seen.

“If you think this an improvement, I have news for you. The new you sucks.” You spit back.

It’s like the drug loves confrontation. It’s as if confrontation triggers something. The drug is supposed to suppress fear. That’s the point of it. But it seems to do a few other things. If confrontation starts, it’s like Jason gets an adrenaline boost but not in self-defense, instead, it’s more like skydiving. It’s actually fun, it doesn’t matter who the confrontation is with. It’s fun. Thrilling. Jason doesn’t realize that maybe that was Crane's plan. He’s a mad scientist. Maybe the drug is meant to suppress his fear but maybe it’s meant to control other parts of him in just the right way to do his bidding. Like using confrontation as another drug. Jason doesn’t see it. He can’t see it because the drug, at the end of the day, is Crane’s creation. Because Crane is the one pulling the strings behind the curtain.

And unfortunately for you, you’re kicking up the confrontation.

Jason’s smile falls as he shakes his head. There’s an anger that sparks across his eyes, something you’ve never directed at you. “Really? Not what you fucking said yesterday. Not what you said earlier today when you tipped me off.”

“You weren’t like this yesterday or earlier.” You argue, holding your ground.

Jason steps forward, making you take steps back until your back hits the alley wall behind you and your heart spikes. Your head isn’t throbbing but a very small part of you, is a little bit scared. This isn’t him. Jason wouldn’t try to kill Dick. Jason does not threaten you. But there’s a look in his eyes and if he’s willing to kill Dick and attack his friends, what’s he willing to do to you?

“Go. Home.” Jason warns.

The anger is flooding every aspect of him and he wants to give in. His brain says it's gonna be fun. It'll feel good to fight and argue. It'll be great to say everything that's crossing his mind right now. He won't feel guilty or fear or worry. It's it's own little high if he just gives in. Just a little bit. But the other parts fight hard with his teeth gritting together. He fights against the anger. Because it's you.

"What-what are you gonna do if I don't?" You lack venom in your voice because you're actually curious and worried what he'll do. For the first time in knowing him, you're worried what he might do. You know he won't do anything. You know he won't. If he were going to, he would have already. But it crosses your mind anyway.

His eyes are locked on yours and he wants to fight so bad. It's going to be fun and thrilling, it'll make him feel something incredible. But only for that moment, until the high wears off. That part of him that's still him, is banging and foaming at the mouth with a wailing cry, begging him to let it go and turn around. It's as if the drug is keeping the good parts of him locked away in a prison and Jason has to decide which side he's going to be on.

But it's you.

It's never really a thought at the end of the day.

Jason takes a step back, his fists balling at his sides. Not you.

"Just go and don't fucking tell anyone." Jason warns. "You promised you wouldn't and you said you don't break them. So, fucking don't." Jason uses your own words against you.

Relief starts to come over you and you've never seen him look at you like this. Dick is right. You hate that that thought is what comes to mind. Somehow, Dick is the one that's right here. This is not the Jason you know and love. He's high and something bad is coming from this. You're going to figure out what's going on, the full story, and you're going to get him back or die trying. He's in there, yesterday proved it.

"Fine." You agree because you aren't about to argue further when he's high. You don't want to see where this is going to go or how bad it can get. "But get your shit together, Jason. I'm serious." You move past him.

"Don't do anything stupid. I'm doing this." Jason huffs.

You shake your head and Dick can handle himself. You turn to face him. "You leave me and Gar the fuck out of your shit with Dick." You warn.

"Fine." Jason agrees. He never wants to hurt Gar anyway.

"Okay." You let out a reluctant sigh. "You know," You start as you turn to fully face him. "I'll figure it out, right? You know I will. I don't know what you need to do to prepare for that, but I will. And I'm gonna get you back." You hold your voice steady.

Jason raises a brow at you. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Jason swears you can't know what's really going on. You know about the formula but Jason also knows he left a code in it to throw you, specifically, off. He doesn't think you'll figure it out and he's not entirely sure how you know anything else. He wonders if he's really acting so differently that it's sending up enough red flags.

"I know you better than anyone. I'll figure it out." You turn around. "Not giving up on you, Jay." You grab your helmet from the bike and he should be angry.

He should be scared but all he can do is laugh and there he is. There's the Jason you know. The real Jason would find you being nonchalant and casual right after that exchange amusing. It's why you did it. He's in there somewhere and you're gonna get him back. You just saw him yesterday and Dick showed you the formula. You don't like that he has to be right but he clearly is. So, you'll get him back, you're certain.

"You gonna stay outta my way then?" Jason gives you that signature grin of his and something about it eases some of your own worry.

"Guess I'll have my hands full while I figure it out so..." He can't see it, but you're smirking under your mask and helmet.

"Good fucking luck." Jason states as you start up the bike. You nod your head once before you peel off into the street.

He should be worried you'll figure it out. But he isn't and not just because of the drug. If you're busy digging into him, that means you won't be around the Titans. That means he can continue on with the plan without having to make sure you're safe. He can be as free as he wants to execute the plan in whatever way is necessary. You won't be the one caught in the crossfire. Jason is confident you won't figure it out because you have too much faith in him. You'll never believe he went to Crane.

Or maybe that's just the drug talking.

When you get back to the Manor, you meet Dick in the kitchen who's still awake trying to figure out how the hell Jason is alive. You didn't provide any information and announced you'd be back before you just left him standig inside of Jason's grave. He's hoping maybe you're willing to give him some information now since you're the one that asked to talk.

Dick places a cup of coffee in front of you as he takes his own seat in front of you at the one of the kitchen counters. "What do you know?" Dick questions, cutting right to the chase.

On the way back, you bounced back and forth on what you'd say and what you wouldn't. Jason's using and that's a problem. He's attacking the Titans which is also a problem. And he's acting weird towards you. You like to believe you can handle most things on your own but it's never really gotten you anywhere and you can't afford to fuck this one up this time just because you're stubborn and loyal to a fault.

"Look, my loyalty lives and dies with him." You state before you raise your brows. "Well, I guess lives, dies, then lives again." You roll your eyes. "And I'm not gonna betray him but...I actually don't know much." You state. "I just knew he was alive, not really anything else. He called me yesterday and asked me to meet up with him. I did. And it was him."

"How did you know it was him?" Dick asks and he isn't sure if he should believe you. You left abruptly, likely to meet up with Jason and now you want to talk? But, he's willing to listen.

"You and me." You answer. "Something we always said. He mentioned the necklace he gave me." You state as Dick glances to the infinity charm around your neck. "There's a tracker in it but only he would know that. Bruce didn't know. At least, we don't think he knew Jason did that. Few other things but that was the big one." You chew the inside of your cheek. "He, uh, he seemed...normal all things considered."

Dick's eyes narrow and he finds it hard to believe that's all you know. Dick knows the two of you were thick as thieves and you'd both go to the ends of the Earth to defend each other. But, you did admit to knowing you knew when Dick asked and Dick is getting the feeling you aren't lying this time.

"And you don't know anything else?" Dick pushes.

You take a sip of your coffee before straightening your back and clearing your throat. Dick already knows about the drug and suspects Jason is using so telling Dick that sucks, but he already knows. It's just confirmation and telling Dick how Jason is alive doesn't seem too bad. It's a Lazurus Pit, that can't be too much information. But, you decide to keep Jason having a partner to yourself. It seems safer that way. If they're dangerous like Jason thinks they are, it should be safer to keep that to yourself. But, telling Dick everything else, might be helpful in getting the old Jason back. You hate yourself for it. You hope he'll understand one day, you hope Jason will forgive you for it.

You don't think you'll forgive yourself.

"Lazarus pit. That's what he said. He said he doesn't really know how it works but someone put him in it and brought him back. That's all." You leave out him working with someone, figuring maybe that's for his own protection.

"Ra's Al Ghul probably." Dick lets out a scoff.

"League of Assassins, right?"

Dick nods his head. "Yeah."

"Think they have something to do with it? Besides the Lazurus pit?"

Dick shakes his head. "No, they would have no reason to bring Jason back, and Ra's isn't even in Gotham."

"Alright, well what are you thinking?" You ask in hopes maybe Dick has some insight. At the end of the day, you know you have a bias. You know your emotions can get in the way when it comes to Jason but Dick can put all of that aside to see what he needs to.

"You said you know him better than anyone." Dick nods his head. "Was he using? When you saw him?"

You hang your head before you offer Dick a solemn expression. "I don't know if he was using before he died. If he was, he hid it well but..." You roll your shoulders, chewing the inside of your cheek and you really hope Jason understands one day. "He was high when I met up with him." You admit, catching Dick off guard. "He wasn't yesterday but he was tonight. And for the fucking record," You state harshly. "That is the only fucking reason I'm telling you anything."

Dick didn't want to believe Jason could be using either. It's a hard pill to swallow and the confirmation does hurt him. But, Dick isn't too surprised. He found the formula and that would explain why Jason went after the Joker and how you don't know much of anything. Jason wouldn't want you involved.

"He must have been high. Maybe that's why he went after the Joker that night. Maybe he was high." Dick keeps his voice level as you roll your eyes.

"Yeah, probably." You scoff with the shake of your head. "And I missed it all which is shit. But, you know," You suck in a breath. "There's more to it and I know you know that. Him making the fucking drug and then taking it is weird as shit even for him. With his mom and shit...it just..." You shake your head. "Doesn't make any sense."

"Maybe it's a favor for someone." Dick offers, agreeing that the drug use and making seems a bit uncharacteristic.

Jason said he's working with someone and you think maybe the drug is a part of that. Whoever he's working with had to be the same person that brought him back which means they'd have to know he died in the first place. Likely would know he was going out to die which also means the Joker plan was actually a plan. You run it over in your head and the more you think about it, the more it sounds like whoever did this, had him killed on purpose with the intention to manipulate him. If the drug is linked then so is everything else.

"He'd need a good enough motive for that though." You suck in a breath. "So, if that's true, it has to be the person who brought him back, right? But, I don't know who that is. Jason didn't say shit."

"Why wouldn't he tell you?" Dick asks. "He told you a lot, didn't he?"

"Yeah, fucking sucks being left out." You snip back. "But, yeah, I don't know. He just said he can't and that was the end of it." You shrug. "Jason has only kept things a secret from me out of self-preservation that's actually just self-destruction or to protect me. So, not too big a fan of this."

"Okay well, I need you to meet up with him again and talk to him." Dick states. "We need answers and if you keep pushing him, maybe he'll tell you more."

"That's not....that's not fair. Talk about what? You want me to meet up with him and tell him to stop fucking around? And tell me everything as if I didn't already do that?" You huff. "What do you think I went to do tonight? I went for fucking answers and got none besides finding out he's high which he did not tell me. It was just obvious."

"If anyone can get to the bottom of it, it would be you. Like you said you know him better than anyone. He didn't tell me or Gar he was alive. He was shooting at me. But, he got you to meet up with him and told you first. You already know more than any of us so even if this is a new version of him that came back, the old Jason is in there somewhere. Enough to trust you." Dick tries his best to reason with you even if he knows it might be a waste of his breath.

"So, you want me to betray him?" You quip back, guilt rattling your bones like a storm cellar in the middle of a tornado.

Jason trusts you and that's not something you would ever take lightly. The one thing the two of you have always had with each other is trust. From the very first day, there has been this trust between you. It's just how it is and you getting any information and telling Dick, would be a betrayal of trust. Anything Jason says to you, you know without him even saying anything, is in confidence because it always is just as it is for you. You do not want to ever betray him, not after everything.

"No," Dick shakes his head. "It's not betrayal."

"He's gonna tell me not to tell you shit. And we both know I will listen to him." You urge and you do not want to be in the middle of it but you can't betray him. Everyone always does and you will not be like everyone else. "You want me to pick sides and look, okay? I know you guys are good and cleared up your shit and you're brothers but you are the like...leader of the Titans. That's where your loyalty lies. Gar, Kory, Conner, Dawn, Hank, they're all Titans. They will side with you. They all would follow you no matter what. Who the fuck does Jason have? That's what this shit always boils down to. He doesn't have anyone, Dick. It's just....him and me." You roll your shoulders.

"What if it saves him from himself?" Dick nods his head.

"What if it gets him killed permanently?" You question.

"You can still try. You don't have to turn on him. If he doesn't tell you not to tell us, you can come back and tell us." Dick offers, trying his best to be a voice of reason. He knows this is hard but Jason is out there killing people, innocent people, and now he's targeting the Titans. He needs to be stopped, regardless on how you feel about it.

"It's always shit said in confidence though. That's how it always is. If...if I do that, hard if, how are we supposed to come back from that? I would have been another person that betrayed his trust. It doesn't fucking matter what he's doing. I can't do that." You shake your head as you plead with Dick. "I'm not a Titan right now. My loyalty is still with him. And I don't want in the middle of it." You state. "Look, I don't even really disagree with him. He said he's cleaning up Gotham and like I said, Bruce's ways don't work. Jason, clearly, is on the same page."

"But you're having this conversation with me right now and that tells me at least some part of you doesn't agree."

"Yeah, I don't agree with him coming after the Titans and I'm worried about the drug side of this. That's the only reason we're even discussing this. I will always be on his side. I don't know if there's anything he can do that would make me quit. And this is hard enough as it is, Dick." You chew the inside of your cheek, tugging your sleeves over your hands. "I don't think he'll forgive me for telling you anything and I can't....I can't betray him more than this."

You know, without a doubt, if the roles were reversed, Jason would never give up on you. You won't do it to him, either.

"Do you believe this is all Jason? He woke up from the dead and chose this?"

It's something that's been bothering her. Him waking up and choosing this is not far-fetched. Him dying, choosing this, and neglecting to tell anyone including her about it, that's the weird part. Sam doesn't know what happened when he died but she has to believe that there is more going on. There has to be more than him just dying and neglecting to tell her anything. There has to be.

"I don't know." You shrug. "I did. He died and I chose this. So, I don't know." You clear your throat because as much as you want to believe this is all Jason, you know there's more. And you're terrified it's going to get bad. He went after Dick and this is more than Jason just trying to fight him in the Tower. "Okay, look, yeah I think something bad is going on. It is weird. I didn't decide to become a crime lord and make a drug. If, hard if, he tells me something I think I can get away with telling you, I will. But only if Jason gives me a reason to." You shake your head deciding that would be okay. Jason has to give you a reason though.

Dick nods his head and he knew it would be a long shot. "Okay."

Dick hopes you'll actually tell him anything. He needs answers and he'll keep digging himself, but you would be a big help in all of this. But, he knows the two of you have loyalty that runs deeper than the Titans.

"But," You suck in a breath. "This stays between us. I don't want the other Titans to know. They'll freak out. Well, Hank and Dawn anyway." You roll your eyes. "You know Gar, he'll believe Jason is in there somewhere. Conner doesn't know him well enough but he'll probably side with Gar or follow you anyway. Kory was the only one who didn't accuse Jason of anything. So, but if you tell one of them then you have to tell everyone so...stays between us."

You do not want Jason to figure out you're even having a conversation about working with Dick. That can't happen because you already said you won't work with the Titans. There is a reason Jason wants you out of it. If the Titans know you already knew and Dick and you had a conversation, that'll send up a red flag if it gets back to Jason somehow. And the Titans trust Dick. It has to stay between you and Dick.

"Deal." Dick sticks his hand out and you shake it. "I know this is hard but you're doing the right thing."

"If you say so." You roll your eyes. "That also means you have to get Gar off my back though. I can't go trying to meet up with Jason and Gar is right there. He won't tell me shit if Gar's around."

"Can you stop killing people?" Dick questions as he raises his brows.

You narrow your eyes. "Just while you're in town and while we sort this shit out. Got my hands a little full with Jason's shit. I still have a whole hitlist to get through, though." You raise your mug at him.

"That's not funny." Dick wanrs.

"It's not a joke." You chuckle. "I know you don't agree with me but I promise I'm not killing people who don't deserve it. I can give you their endless rap sheets. Guy I killed tonight while you guys were busy was lacing drugs and selling directly to kids and I mean like middle schoolers. He's been put away ten fucking times. They just keep letting him out. He's gotten over a hundred kids killed. Those are the fucks I'm killing. You don't have to agree with me but you should try to understand my point of view of it." You point a finger at him.

"I do." Dick nods his head. "Less kids people like him can kill but where do you draw the line?"

"Do you want to know? I have a line. They have to meet certain criteria otherwise I just scare the ever-living shit out of them and rough them up real bad."

"You have criteria?" Dick asks, his voice a mix of being appalled and confused.

"Yeah, I agree with you. We can't go out playing judge, jury, and executioner all the damn time. That's not justice. But, the system fails to protect people like me and you and Jason and Molly. It always has. It didn't protect my dad, who albeit is still a piece of shit probably, but he was hooked when he was in school. It didn't help Jason's mom. It looks at us and laughs in our faces and tells us to deal with it because we can't do anything about it. I'm doing that and hey, Jason's off his damn rocker, but he's targeting some bad people."

"Are you going to be able to live with yourself with their blood on your hands? I think that's why Jason stopped you from killing Jerry. He didn't want you to have that on your conscious."

"You know," You furrow your brows as you shake your head. "I killed some of CADMUS. And uh, I mean, I feel bad about it a little. I killed people, that's a heavy thing to carry. But, they tried to kill me, Gar, Conner, and Krypto. They tortured them. I feel bad because I'm not a monster but I also know it's what had to be done. I kill these guys and it's like...I feel bad. Someone out there gives a fuck about them. Someone out there is going through what I went through when Jason died. I feel bad for them. And I feel bad for taking a life but then I look at how many people they've either permanently hurt or killed, and I'm keeping track. I'm keeping track of every person I save by killing them. And I feel less bad about it. I feel bad because they were a person with a life and a beating heart. But, I can live with it because of the list of people I'm saving in the process. That sounds a little, uh, egotistical but it's true. That's why there's a criteria. Killing one person by accident doesn't mean they get to die. That's not justice. It's gotta be bad. Batman walks the streets and it doesn't stop these fucks. I feel bad about it, but....it's better than them killing and torturing people with no reason to stop."

"So, you think Bruce was right for throwing all of his morals away to kill the Joker?"

You let out a snort. "No, but that's not because of his morals and shit. I think anyone is capable of throwing their morals away for certain shit without it actually changing their moral compass, like Bruce killing the Joker." You explain as you sip your coffee. "But, I think it's fucked Jason had to die. None of the other people mattered enough to do something permanent about him. It took Jason's brutal murder for him to finally do something and I gotta problem with that. If anyone should have killed him, it should have been me. He killed my mom and he took Jason. Bruce only did it for Jason. I think, if you're gonna kill people for the greater good, it shouldn't be because of one single person. It should be for the greater good. There should be a list of reasons why you're killing someone. A list of reasons why they have to die. I gave Bruce all of those reasons and those weren't enough. Jason was. And that's not fucking fair to every other person that had to suffer by the hands of the Joker. So, no, fuck Bruce for killing him now. What's he gonna do? Come back and welcome Jason with open arms as if he isn't the reason Jason was murdered in the first place? Fucking stupid."

"Have you been thinking about all this this whole time?" Dick can't help but chuckle.

"Yeah," You shake your head. "And Jason but....that's been a topic I don't so much like to think about lately. So, I made a hit list." You smile softly. "Got a list of bad people to get through that Bruce won't do shit about."

"So, what you gonna go off after the Penguion next? Does he fall under your criteria since the Joker's gone?" Dick quips back, mostly digging to make sure you aren't planning on doing something like Jason.

"Nah, I think he's a fun little guy." You let out a laugh. "Something about him makes me laugh. He's bad, too sure, but he's not...that bad in the grand scheme of shit. Ya know? Penguin, sometimes helps here and there. He's not evil."

"You've had the pleasure of meeting him, then, I'm guessing?" There's a smile tugging at Dick's lips.

"Oh yeah. We went after him for something with Bruce once and I just thought he was funny. He was so serious and somehow not. If the camp genre were a person, it would be Penguin. So, I start actually laughing which then made him really mad and naturally made the whole thing that much funnier to me. So, Jason starts bursting out laughing at the top of his lungs. We're both doubled over and Penguin's face starts turning all red and he was stomping his foot. He starts yelling at Bruce to get us to stop and take him seriously and we don't know who we're messing with." You shake your head mockingly as you laugh. "His goons were trying desperately not to laugh with us!" You say through a hearty laugh. "I thought Bruce was gonna blow. But, I think he wanted to laugh, too."

"Yeah, he's always been a fun one to deal with." Dick chuckles softly. "I used to give him hell. Make fun of him. When I was Robin."

"Good, it's a lot of fun." You laugh. "I mean, he's like you. He goes by fucking Penguin and you go by Dick. You guys are setting yourself up for the jokes."

"I can't believe you just compared me to Penguin." Dick deadpans before a small smile cracks the corner of his lips.

"Facts don't lie, Dickolas."

You take another drink of your coffee and Dick is trying to be a better leader. You're going through it. Somehow, you're the one stuck in the middle of everything and you're the one most likely to be hurt in this mess. The person you care about most died and is now lying to you and fighting your friends. This can't be easy.

"Really, how did it go with Jason?" Dick asks, earning an eyebrow raise from you. "I'm asking for you, not for information."

"You being caring is kind of freaking me out." You chortle before you shake your head as a side smile starts to come to your lips. "Good, I think." You nod. "Ya know, Jason remembers everything. About us..." Your brows furrow tightly as your face falls. "And he said he remembers dying. So, there's that. Uh, but he seemed...mostly normal, actually besides the hair." You gesture to the front of your head as you crack a small smile.

"Yeah, I saw that. What's up with that anyway?" Dick chuckles. "At least he seemed okay. He told you he remembers dying?"

"Side effect of the Lazarus Pit, I guess." You shrug a shoulder. "He didn't want to talk about it, remembering dying I mean. But he said he remembers." You clear your throat. "So, that's a little worrisome. Ya know, given how Jason deals with trauma which is that he literally does not." You roll your eyes. "But, at least he's alive ya know? Being a shithead again but alive."

"Yeah, that's true. Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah, just need some time to process it." You clear your throat. "When you tell the Titans and half of them inevitably flip out because I knew, let them. I'll be fine." You hop down from your seat. "Like I said, they trust you. Keep it that way. They won't trust me regardless. We all know my loyalty is with him. They can't know you knew I knew. I'll be fine. I've told them off before." You start your walk to the doorway. "Night, Dick." You offer a soft smile and a nod before you spin on your heels and leave Dick alone.

Gar wakes you up the following day, saying Dick has called a meeting with everyone. You know exactly what the meeting is about and everything starts to ache from the pit of your stomach. It sucks that they're all going to know you knew and didn't tell anyone. And it sucks because that also means they'll know it's Jason under the Red Hood and maybe they won't be so forgiving. They never have been with him.

But you walk with Gar to the main living room anyway. You take a seat beside Gar with Krypto sitting at your feet and the other Titans are scattered around. Dick stands in front of all of you with his arms crossed.

Once everyone is gathered, Dick starts telling you all how he broke Red Hood's helmet last night and it was Jason. He follows it by saying he dug up Jason's grave to verify it was him. You find it weird no one even bats an eye at the grave digging but of course they don't. You keep your stare on Krypto as you pet him, knowing one of them is going to accuse you of knowing as soon as Dick finishes his explanation. You can feel Gar's stare on you and without even looking at him, you know he figured it out. And it nearly kills you because you feel like you betrayed him and that's not fair. Jason put you in the middle of it.

"You knew, didn't you?" Hank glares directly at you.

You look up to him and suck in a breath. "Well..." You shrug, scrunching your nose.

"What the hell?!" Gar yells. "And you didn't tell me!?" Gar stares at you in disbelief and you can handle Hank. He's an ass anyway but Gar? You'll never forgive yourself for keeping it from him even if it was just two days.

"Well, kind of yeah." You chew the inside of your cheek, looking away from Gar.

"And you didn't think to tell any of us?" Kory demands.

You chew your lip. You know you or Dick will tell Kory the entire story eventually and she'll understand but it hurts anyway. "He asked me not to and you all know how deep my loyalty runs with him." You glance to Dick and he doesn't like that this is what they're doing. They're not going to trust you.

"Did you know he was going after the Joker that night? Was this the plan the whole time?" Dawn questions.

It's better that they don't trust you. It's easier for you to pick a side. You need to work Jason's angle but you cannot do that if they know. Jason is smart and he'll figure it out. So, you have to swallow your guilt and stick with being solely and entirely on Jason's side just as you always have been.

"You think I knew?" You scoff. "Like that whole thing? You think I knew and just...let him do it?" You look to Dick again, as if waiting for him to add something in. He's the leader.

"You knew he was alive." Dick adds in.

"Knowing he's alive and knowing what he was up to are two very different things." You state.

"Why should we believe you?" Hank demands. "You've been lying to us the whole time!" Hank fumes as if that's going to get him anywhere.

"Because? I wouldn't let him get himself killed. In case you forgot." You retort as you scrunch your face. It is actually ridiculous Hank thinks you knew Jason was going after the Joker and let him do it. The anger starts to wash over any guilt you had just minutes ago.

"Hey! We apologized for that shit!" Hank yells. "How do we know you didn't know he was going to get killed on purpose and get brought back. Pretty convenient, isn't it?" Hank spits.

You can feel your blood start to boil. You knew this is what was going to happen but it's annoying anyway. It's the fact they think you would let him get killed. It's the fact they think he would go out and get killed on purpose. They didn't even really know him. They don't really know you. They think your grief was all fake. You get they don't believe you, you can see why. But it's also absurd. They should be mad you didn't tell them, but they should believe you would do everything in your power to stop him from going after The Joker. They should believe Jason wouldn't get killed on purpose. This is all so absurd and you aren't going to let them drag you and Jason through the mud when they don't know anything.

You nod and let out a dry and narrowed chuckle. "You know how you can believe me? Call Bruce, hunt him down, hunt down the phone records or whatever, listen to the phone call." You look to Dick. "You can ask Babs if she thinks my reaction was fucking fake. You can ask Molly who found me on the bathroom floor. I don't care but I didn't fucking know and fuck you for thinking I did." You look back to Hank with glassy eyes. "Do you know what it's like to try CPR knowing it's useless? I was covered in his blood. I didn't fucking know and he didn't get killed on fucking purpose."

"You really didn't know." Gar says quietly.

"Nope." You shake your head. "I found out two days ago."

"What about the drug? Did he say anything?" Dick asks, hoping that can calm the room down. He doesn't think you knew any of it.

"Nope. I wouldn't let him make a drug. Ask Bruce, I told him I was gonna call you and have you bring us back. Bring him back kicking and screaming if we had to."

"Are you supposed to believe this shit?" Hank yells out, gesturing a hand towards you. "Dick, come on, she's been lying to us this damn whole time. He was prepared for us to show up last night. She tipped him off!"

"Hey, fuck you!" You scream back. "Maybe he was just fucking prepared. It was a damn code! I didn't tip him off!"

"I don't fucking believe this shit!" Hanks storms.

"That's a you problem then." You quip. "Can I go now? This is you guys problem."

"No, we're not done here." Hank boasts.

"Okay, so finish up." You snark back.

"Look, Jason did this to himself and we need to find out what else he's planning." Hank crosses his arms. "He needs to be stopped."

You let out this laugh that sounds both heartbroken and pissed. "Okay."

"I always knew something was off about that kid." Hank scoffs.

"Fuck." You yell. "Seriously?" Your eyes start to water. "What the fuck is...." You pause, looking to Gar. "You know what, you're not fucking worth it. You're just gonna sit here and victim blame anyway. Have ya noticed the rest of the room is simply...confused and not losing their shit? That's just you, pal."

"He isn't a fucking victim!" Hank scoffs with a laugh. "He got himself into this mess. He could have walked away!"

"How can you say he isn't a victim? I know he told you! His mom being an addict and neglectful, yeah, victim. His dad was abusive, victim. The system? In and out of shitty foster homes, victim. Bruce took Robin away without ever having a conversation about it, victim. You...treat him like shit, victim. All of you made him want to kill himself, victim. The Joker murdered him with a crowbar, victim." You scoff. "You're not a fucking hero and I think you're the one that needs to hang up the cape and mask if you can't grasp the simple concept of a victim."

"We all have bad experiences but we're not looking to get ourselves killed and start killing." Dawn states softly.

"I'm not out there killing people." Hank grits his teeth at you "He needs to be stopped and whoever the hell he's working with, whether you like it or not, kid." Hank scoffs as he moves towards the hallway.

You aren't done yet though. You do not like Hank and if he's really going to point the blame at Jason for everything that led him here, you're going to get under his skin.

"Before you go, if I did know more, I wouldn't tell you guys anyway. I'm killing people, too and you guys don't have an issue with that. Just Jason. So, uh, you guys are on your own with this one. I'm with him." You grin back at Hank and you want to push him further. Really drive home the point you're not with them. You also just don't like him. His apology seemed more hollowed and like he was doing it because Dawn said it was the right thing to do.

"We're not playing fucking games here!" Hank yells and Dick wants to know what you're doing. You could have let him walk off and let it rest. But it is you. You don't usually do that when it comes to Jason.

"Oh, I'm not playing games either. But I know him better than anyone so while you guys are thinking poorly of him, I'll be on his side actually listening to him like I always have which then I'll get more information and I'm not sharing." You shake your head with a grin.

"Hey, kid, we're not messing around." Hank threatens. "You're gonna tell us what you know, or we're switching teams. You won't like that."

You let out a booming laugh. "Yeah, Hank? And uh, what the fuck are you gonna do about it?" You question him with a sinister grin as you get to your feet. "Gonna fight me? Torture me? Threaten to kill me? Go for it. Here's a statistic for you: Torture doesn't work. It's been proven. People are more likely to give you false information just to get it to stop. And considering the fact I was tortured for a year and nearly murdered twice, that shit does not scare me. You'll have to kill me before you get to him. And if it comes down to that, I'll have given him the heads up."

"Unbelievable." Dick sighs.

"Told you, I'd hide a body for him."

"I don't want to kill him." Dick states.

"I will." Hank scoffs. "If it ends up him versus me, kid's going down."

"So, we're killing Jason now?" Dawn questions, almost appalled. She's confused by the whole thing but you're right. The Jason you all know isn't a murderer. There is something else going on and they don't kill their own.

"Jason's always had his issues but he wasn't a full-blown psychopath." Kory adds in.

"I still think he was using. The Batcomputer didn't find anything but I found the place he was cooking." Dick states.

"He wrote his own ticket. He starts taking people out, game's over." Hank scowls.

"And you'll have to go through me, Hank." You step past Krypto, taking a few steps towards Hank. "You're not gonna kill him. I might not be able to take on Dick, but you?" You laugh. "In my sleep." Hank steps forward, Dick stopping him. "Ohhh, scary." You mock him. "I'm not fucking afraid of you." You mock him and then it hits you.

The conversation with Jason, a cure for fear. You said it would affect his adrenaline. He wouldn't care for things. It would have side effects besides just getting rid of his fear. He made a drug. He's working with someone. The way he was acting weird yesterday. He attacked Dick. Jason went after the Joker and missed the Joker right behind him. Drug that cures fear would also block out basic instincts like someone lurking behind him. Drug that cures fear.

You're gonna kill him.

You shake your head. "Here's the deal, figure it out yourselves because I'm not fighting him and I'm not betraying him. Ever. I don't fucking care. Now, I've got some shit to do so if you'll excuse me." You walk up to Dick. "You have that formula?"

Dick eyes you with confusion, pulling the paper from his pocket. "Why?"

"Told you, I'm gonna figure it out and I'm not sharing." You snatch the paper from him and leave the Titans to themselves.

"Thanks for the backup, man." Hank turns to Dick.

"Let it go, Hank." Dick lets out a sigh. "I believe her. You should, too." Dick leaves the room.

You head to your room and sit down on the bed with the formula. You pull out the tablet and start working on it. You do research into some of the files Bruce has, trying to figure it out. You make a lot of progress on it but there's a part of it that doesn't make sense. It's not a chemical or a compound. It doesn't actually mean anything. And you're thinking Jason prepared for this.

You think Jason prepared for someone to find it. Dick did it his first day which means he didn't really hide it. Jason is smart. And clearly likes codes. Maybe he should have teamed up with the damn Riddler. That might be better than what you're thinking because you have suspicions this missing piece of the formula is a code for something he didn't want anyone to figure out. And you were never very good with codes but you know someone who might be.

You make your way inside of the restaurant where you see Mr. Drake behind the counter. You offer him a kind smile, stuffing your hands deep into your jacket pockets.

"Hey, haven't seen you in awhile. The usual?" He asks.

"Uh, yeah, but um...I was actually wondering if, uh, if Tim were around? I promise I'm ordering the usual." You let out a soft laugh as you roll your shoulders.

"Yeah, of course." Mr. Drake looks over his shoulder. "Tim! Come out here, please."

Tim walks out a few seconds later, stumbling slightly over a box. Tim sees you and he's surprised to see you. Tim is very observant and he knows something that no one else has been able to figure out. He thought you might be down and out for a while because of it.

"Hey." Tim greets with confusion.

"Hey, do you like puzzles? Like codes." You rush out, trying to make it sound casual. "Genius."

"Uh..." Tom chuckles softly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, I guess. Why?"

"Can you help me with one?"

Tim walks from behind the counter, resting a hand on your arm and moving you both off to the side. "Are you okay?" Tim questions and he's known you a little through the years, not really well. But, he thinks he knows you well enough to know something weird is going on. Your boyfriend just died. "I saw Jason...on the news." Tim states.

Your eyes widen, somehow forgetting that naturally all of Gotham who watches any bit of the news or keeps up with things on social media would know Bruce Wayne's newest son was killed in a 'tragic accident'. Of course, Tim knows that.

"Right, yeah, no, uh, it's been really fucking hard. I, I just can't focus on it. I'll start crying. Thank you though." You brush it off and you wish you didn't have to lie so damn much.

"Why do you need help?" Tim's brows furrow, not buying it.

"It's a game kind of." You roll your shoulders. "I mean, you're really smart so..."

"Don't you live with Bruce Wayne? Isn't Dick Grayson back, too? They're really smart. Why are you coming to me?" Tim crosses his arms and he's definitely digging for information.

"If you can't help, that's fine. But I thought it was worth a shot." You shrug and you used the Batcomputer to look into him.

You've talked every time you've come to get food. You don't have many friends. And Molly is smart but not like this and you can't risk Molly going to Dick about it. Tim doesn't know any of them well enough to go back to Dick. And Jason probably won't figure out you went to Tim given you tend to keep Jason's secrets locked away with all of yours.

"Come on." Tim gestures for you to follow him and you offer him a wide smile.

You follow Tim into the side door through part of the building that leads into a hallway. Tim opens a door further down the empty hallway and walks right in with a sense of pride. You see an entire set up of computers and crime boards. On the walls, he has pictures of the Titans and Robin and Batman. He's definitely doing research into all of them and you think it's funny. You both always talked about who Batman and Robin could be but you did expect him to literally be putting together actual research, not like this. Him looking into Batman and Robin is kind of whatever at this point, but the Titans has your interests piqued.

"You looking into the Titans?" You gesture a finger lazily to one of the walls with pictures and news articles.

Tim holds his head up high. "I know you're a Titan." Tim holds the most confident grin you have ever seen.

You do a double take. "What?"

"You're a Titan. Acid generation, I'm guessing combat clairvoyance, too." Tim explains with ease.

Your brows furrow and you have no idea how the hell he even knows that. He hasn't been able to figure out Batman and Robin for years, but he figured you out in only a few months? A part of you is actually offended. You swore you did a better job of hiding your identity than Dick and Jason did.

"I'm not a Titan? They're from San Francisco and I'm definitely born and raised right here which you know." You raise.

"But you were uprooted, two years ago to San Francisco." Tim walks over to a desk and pulls out a file, handing it over.

You take it cautiously and you hope he knows this whole thing is weird. But, you open the files anyway and it contains information on Jerry and where you moved to. Which only makes you question how he got this because those records are supposed to be sealed.

"How the fuck did you get this?" You close the file, waving it slightly.

Tim shrugs. "I'm good with computers."

"You hacked into CPS and the GCPD to get this?" Your eyes narrow and he's definitely completely insane for this. What if he were wrong? You do admire the dedication though.

"And SFPD." Tim adds in. "Jerry was beat up pretty bad but it was just...brushed off. I think it was you. They found someone there, but it wasn't you."

"Okay, there's so much wrong with all of this, like you know that, right?" You ask. "And why the hell were you looking into me? I'm not a Titan and this is weird."

"I know it's you. The acid really gives you away. And I recognized how you walked." Tim explains. "And I've been looking into all of the Titans so..."

"You...what? You know how I walk? Do you know how insane that sounds or?" You're trying desperately to think of a lie for him to believe but at this point, you're not sure there's anything you can really say. He has it all figured out with you.

"I have a photographic memory." Tim states. "And the acid isn't some run-of-the-mill acid. It's a specific chemical compound. It's like a fingerprint."

"Okay, I'll humor this for a minute. If you live in Gotham and the girl you're thinking is me is from San Francisco, how exactly do you know the chemical compound of Bluejay and the Titan are the same?"

"The internet." Tim scoffs. "There are forums dedicated to you guys."

"Haven't you ever heard not to believe everything you read online?"

Tim chuckles softly. "Okay, I also know who Nightwing is, Batman...Robin." Tim looks to the ground with the last word and your face falls.

"Yeah, you sound insane," You let out a huff but if Tim does know this might be a problem for Dick later so you'll humor this a little longer. "I am interested in all of this though, so how do you know all of this?"

"Dick Grayson is Nightwing, former Robin. Robin1.0. Dick Grayson was in the Flying Graysons and he can perform a certain trapeze trick that only two people in the world could perform. Dick and his father. You know who else can do that trick? Nightwing and Robin 1.0." Tim explains with excitement as if he's been dying to share this with someone. "Bruce took in Dick and if Dick is Robin, Bruce has to be Batman." Tim continues. "I knew another Robin came in because the fighting style was different, the way he walked, the height difference."

"That's what I pointed out, too, to be fair." You point out.

"Exactly, well, Bruce Wayne took in Jason Todd." Tim looks away. "And...well..." Tim sucks in a breath.

"Robin 2.0 and Jason died around the same time, right?" You fill in what Tim doesn't want to say.

Tim nods shyly. "Yeah, and I recognized how he walked, too when you introduced us that day." Tim clears his throat. "So, if Dick is Nightwing, he's a Titan. Jason would have also been a Titan. That's how you met them. Now you live with Bruce during the same time Bluejay shows up."

You think about it for a second and actually, how has no one else figured that out? It is actually so obvious. But, you can't tell Tim that. He might be your friend but there's a lot going on and Dick and Bruce's secrets aren't yours to tell, even when you're mad at Bruce. It's not your place. And, honestly, you're a little worried what would happen if Jason ever found out Tim knew, especially right now. Would it paint a target on his back? To know Red Hood is Jason Todd? You won't risk it.

"Solid theory, I'll give you that but I also know Bruce and Dick. And uh, Bruce isn't a hero and Dick is a good detective, that's all. I'm just trying to survive. So, your math is a little off. But, I do need your help so we can keep going back and forth or you can help me." You change the subject before Tim gets any further into this. Dick is going to lose it.

"Alright, what is it?" Tim lets out a sigh but he knows he'll come back to it.

"Okay, I have this bit." You hand him a piece of paper where you traced the letters. "I don't know what it means but I know it's a code for something. And I think some of these chemicals are codes for real chemicals or something. They're not real so..."

"What's it for?" Tim quirks a brow as he gives you a grin.

"That's for me to figure out after you tell me what it means." You smile cheekily at him.

"You want my help but you're not gonna tell me?"

"No." You laugh. "It's just a project, it's not relevant."

"Okay." Tim sighs, walking over to one of the tables and you follow him.

Tim is definitely being so forthcoming because he knows he's right. He's helping a Titan right now. He's so sure of it and that's why you won't tell him anything. He had his suspicion of you and Jason. When you both came in, you both usually had some sort of bruise on you. And Tim had already figured out Jason was Robin. You were an easy puzzle piece to place after that. And he's definitely going to help a Titan.

"Got some of the chemicals for you." Tim states after a few minutes, showing you some of his work. You spent an hour on that and couldn't figure it out. How does he do that?

You look over the paper and you recognize a few of the chemicals but nothing rings a bell. "Huh." You mutter. "Anything else?"

"What are the chemicals used for?" Tim questions.

"I don't know." You shrug, only half lying. "I'm not a chemist." You quip. "What about the actual title? I mean that has to be a clue."

Tim works for what only seems to be a minute before he slides the paper over with pride. "Fear." Tim states, Tim leans back in his chair with a confident smile but he watches as your face falls.

"What?" You question as you look at the paper hastily.

"Says fear." Tim states. "That's the code."

You look back at him. "You sure?"

"Positive. Why? Is that important?" Tim raises a brow as he watches you carefully.

You were really hoping you'd be wrong but a drug leading to fear, Jason is working with someone that's dangerous. He won't tell you anything. Of all people and of all things Jason would be doing, he's doing this shit?

"Oh, that fucking dumbass." You grit your teeth. "Thank you, this is very helpful. I'm gonna go grab my food and be on my way." You let out a sigh, hopping down from the table as you grab the papers from Tim.

"Wait!" Tim calls after you as you're already headed for the door.

"I can pay you if you want, for your time. Really, I really really appreciate this." You let out a sigh.

"No, not that." Tim shakes his head. "What is it?"

You look at his board with all of the Titans and he's got it all figured out. He'll be fine. "You're really smart. Thank you. Don't do anything fucking stupid, though and be careful. Looking into that shit, might get a little messy." You pause and he's got it figured out. There's no stopping him but you aren't going to risk Scarecrow of all people, figuring out you involved him. "Hey, seriously, do not tell anyone we had this conversation. I was here for food, the usual, end of story. No one."

Tim nods his head. "Are people--"

"Nope, it's, uh, it's a-a murder mystery game we play." You lie. "Everyone is just trying to get my mind off it, ya know?" You suck in a breath. "And don't go telling people you think Bruce and Dick are the heroes. They'll also think you're insane and you'll get yourself committed."

"Isn't that cheating?" Tim raises.

"No, using my resources but they may not see it that way which is why you can't tell anyone." You grin before you turn on your heels and head out.

You head to the place you found Jason sneaking off to before he died. You caught him doing something and you hate to think this is what he was doing behind your back. Making a drug. It's insane to you. Jason was desperate but you had no idea he was that desperate. Of all the things for Jason to do, make a drug and possibly work with Jonathan Crane. He's the maker of the fear gas and he's dangerous. If anyone can make an anti-fear drug, it would be Crane. And you just can't believe Jason would be desperate enough to go to him but you have to know for sure.

Inside the room, you see he does in fact have his own lab. Dick wasn't lying. He really was here, behind your back, making this drug. You're so mad at him. How does he resort to this? How? Because of Robin? He never should have thought Robin was all he'd ever be good at. Jason believed Robin gave him magic. It starts and ends with Robin and Bruce. That's what this always boils down to and you're so angry at Jason and Bruce for it.

Your heart breaks the further you walks into the room, checking out the table where he still has everything laid out. And you still can't believe it. But, you need to know. If you're wrong, you can deal with that on your own. Jason is your responsibility. But, if you're right...you don't think you can keep that to yourself. You don't think you can handle that, not alone. It's going to be more than just getting Jason clean to get him back home. You aren't sure you can do it on your own. You know it's bad science but there's only one way to know for sure without bringing anyone else into this. Jason won't tell you anyway so you lay the formula on the table and get to work.

Jason did the hard part. And he didn't cover his tracks which you can't figure out why he wouldn't. If it was so dyer no one knows what's going on, why would he leave everything out? Why would he even leave the formula out with a clue? Unless that was the point. Jason likes to play games. It's what he does. Maybe that was the point. He coded the formula, leaving it out on purpose just to fuck with Dick and Bruce. You're surprised Dick didn't figure it out but again, maybe that's because even Dick wouldn't think Jason is crazy and desperate enough to go to fucking Scarecrow.

You finish the drug within an hour, the orange liquid loaded into an inhaler Jason left behind. You hold it up and debate it. Taking an unknown drug is a terrible idea. Taking any drug is a bad idea. And this could be a setup. Jason could have left it on purpose, knowing someone would figure it out and maybe take it to see. But you find that to be a long shot because what insane person finds a formula to make a drug and then takes it? Dick wouldn't do that and if this is about Dick, given Jason just tried to kill him, Jason would know Dick wouldn't just take a dug.

You know Jason better than anyone and Jason knows you. You put yourself in Jason's shoes, deciding maybe he'd know you'd figure it out eventually and do something completely idiotic like follow his footsteps which means this wouldn't be a setup. You settle on that logic and put the inhaler to your mouth before pressing the canister down and inhaling at the same time.

Your pupils dilate, your iris turning a bright shade of yellow-orange. And it all melts away.

The guilt you feel with not pestering Jason, him dying, not following him. Everything starts to fade away. The sadness of it all is there but it's more like a distant echo in a deep underground cave. There, but just barely. The guilt feels more like walking through fog instead of barbed wire ripping your throat to shreds. And, for the first time since you left Gotham, you aren't paranoid. You don't feel paranoid or scared. It's all completely gone. Every ounce of it. There's still this small sense of worry but the sadness, it's more of an echo.

The sadness, guilt, paranoia, and worry are caged deep inside the darkest parts of your mind. Screaming and howling to be let free again but the drug stands guard, laughing over their desperate cries. A sinister cackle echoing over everything else, clouding them so they can't break through. And for the first time, you get how Jason got here.

This is nice. You don't feel like you're weighted down anymore. In a way, it actually feels freeing. To not be scared and paranoid and consumed with worry and guilt. It's actually really fucking nice to not feel so damn heavy. But, that feeling of being free doesn't last long before it starts to fade into red-hot anger.

You think about how Jason lied to you, went behind your back. You were supposed to be a team and he left you. He left you to go after the Joker, he died, he made this dug, he became Red Hood without ever having a conversation with you. Jason just tried to kill Dick. He doesn't loop you in anymore. He made this drug that is so damn freeing and he never bothered to offer it to you. He never offered you a cure. He gets to be cured of all of his fear and paranoia while you're left here to suffer. And that pisses you off.

You're just furious with him so you get up and make your way to the Gotham City Gym thinking maybe that's his hideout. That's where you met up two days ago, it has to mean something and you do not care at all what's going to happen. You don't have the fear of consequences anymore. You aren't scared what's going to happen because you showed up there looking for him. It'll be fine, you assure yourself. It'll be the two of you, and Crane will never have to know and if he does, that's fine. You will go after him yourself because even though you're mad at Jason as you make your way on the bike, you still care about him. The love you have for him is still there, wrapping your bones like barbed wire, desperately clinging onto the old parts of you that aren't affected by the drug.

You don't want anything to happen to him. But you're mad. And the drug is letting anger win. So, you get to the old gym and walk right inside.

You find Jason in a room leaning over a chair and all you see is red, missing what he's working on. All you care about is getting answers and letting him know you're pissed and he's not just getting off the hook this time because you love him. This is fucked.

"What the fuck!?" You scream as you shove Jason away from the chair.

Jason turns to face you quickly. "What—" Jason eyes you with confusion, dropping the scalpel on the floor. "What the fuck are you doing here!?"

"Crane!?" You yell as you throw your arm out to the side. "You're working with Jonathan fucking Crane?!"

Jason takes a step back and he's never seen you like this before. Your nostrils flare and your jaw squares. Your pupils are blown and you look ready to kill him.

Oh no.

You figured it out. You took the drug. You figured out the formula. You took it. Why the fuck would you do that?

"How the fuck do you know that?" Jason seethes and he still has the drug pumping in his veins, too. What would normally be fear is clouded with anger.

"I figured it out! I told you I would! And I'm fucking offended you thought I wouldn't! You went to fucking Crane for an anti-fear drug!? Are you insane?!"

"Fuck you!" Jason screams back. "Did you fucking take it!?"

That was not part of the plan. Jason didn't want you involved and that included you taking a drug. It makes him a hypocrite and he knows that but he doesn't care. This is his problem, not yours. This was his decision and he didn't want this for you. If he did, he would have just told you.

"Yeah! And I gotta fucking say, it is nice not dealing with fear and paranoia and shit so fuck you for not telling me and giving it to me!" Your fists ball at your sides, Jason getting a glimpse of your knuckles changing color under the pressure.

"That's a load of shit! You're just saying that cause you're fucking high!" Jason yells back, the drug isn't as fresh for him as it is for you. He's thinking a little clearer than you are.

"Look who's fucking—" You pause, finally looking at the chair and seeing a passed out Hank shirtless with an open cut on his chest and a device lodged halfway into the cut. You shake your head looking back to Jason. "What the hell did I just walk in on?" Your voice comes back down.

"How did you figure it out?" Jason spits back, ignoring your question. He really doesn't want you involved with this one.

"Your erratic behavior before you died. The formula had a code. And you like to play games." You quip back and you see the hint of smirk come to his lips. "Exactly."

"You hate codes. How'd you figure it out?" His voice is a toxic mix of amusement and threatening.

"I'm resourceful. Don't worry, I didn't fucking tell anyone." You spit back. "Hank?" You gesture again as you blink at him.

He doesn't believe you. You're good at a lot of things but cracking puzzles and codes is not one of those things. It's why Jason was careful so that way if you found out, you wouldn't get anywhere. He knows you went to someone for help. You swore you don't lie to him but now you are. The line is being drawn in the sand and Jason decides he might as well throw you the bone. He wants to see exactly where your loyalty actually lies because the drug thinks that's going to be fun. It pumps him with everything Crane has filled his head with, tricking him into thinking it's true. And that includes you not being on his side.

"Putting a bomb in his chest. Wanna help?" Jason shrugs as a grin pulls at his lips as he picks the scalpel off the floor and goes back to Hank.

You watch him for a few seconds and you actually think about it. The drug clouds your judgment and lets you feel anger above everything else. You're pissed at Jason but you're still mad at Hank for earlier. Hanks wants to kill Jason and maybe that's what Hank came here to do. Maybe Hank was going to kill him. Jason is just taking it a step further because it's Jason. Nothing is ever so easy. But, a few seconds go by and you're still mad at Jason. You don't want Jason dead but you do want to piss him off because he pissed you off. An easy way to piss Jason off would be save Hank's dumbass from him.

"Fuck you." You bark, gaining Jason's attention and he thought you might actually take up the offer. He's not sure what he would have done if you did. "No, I'm not gonna help fucking kill him! Have you lost your damn mind? Who the hell are you?!" You scream again and you're starting to question if you're mad enough to kill someone you consider an ally. Hank is not your friend but would you take up the offer, right now, if you weren't so mad at Jason?

"I'm who I've always been!" Jason yells back. "What? Don't fucking like it?" Jason taunts you and he really hopes this will get you to leave.

If you're not going to be on his side, he wants you gone. You being around drives him insane because it's like two sides of him are at a war within him and they can't settle on where to sit or what to believe. They fight hard and fast, one side knowing you can be trusted and Jason loves you. He has to protect you at all costs. No matter what. But, the other side of him is high out of his mind and believes Crane really cares about him and wouldn't lie to him. Crane wouldn't just be using him and manipulating him. Crane is telling the truth and that includes you. Both sides are so torn and it drives Jason completely insane. This thing would be easier if you would just go the fuck away.

"You're not a murderer!"

"You're fucking a hypocrite! You're killing people! Crane was right about you." Jason sneers, closing the distance between you and you don't move even an inch as Jason looks down at you. "I'm fucking better and you hate it." It's like a game of tug of war in Jason's head and the Crane side is winning.

You grit your teeth as more anger starts to flood into your system. He told Crane about you? "Fuck you. Crane knows me? Really?" You huff up at him. "I liked you before."

"When I was fucking weak." Jason sneers. "You always just wanted to fix me. Well, I'm better and I'm not fucking scared. And you can't stand it." Jason lets out this horrid cackle.

You let out a loud groan as you look to the ceiling and even in your clouded state, you know Crane has to be using him. "He's fucking using you and manipulating you. He doesn't give a shit about you. We all do though." You mimic the laugh.

"Fuck you!" Jason huffs. "You don't know shit!" Jason doesn't want to fight with you but he can't help it. He should walk away and he knows he should but it's as if his feet are glued to the floor below him.

"Yeah, been there done that, right?" You look up to him. "He's using you. You just can't fucking see it." You shake your head. "He's a terrible, horrible, shit fucking excuse of a human and I can't believe you think he gives a fuck about you." You aren't sure if you're saying it to hurt him or if it's because it's true. You know there's no way Crane actually cares about him, there's no way not when Jason just made an anti-fear drug. There's more to that but you don't know if you're telling him because he needs to hear it or if you're just trying to hurt him.

The drug loves confrontation.

"You can't stand that I'm better! You hate that I don't need you anymore." Jason shakes his head, his nose scrunching in frustration. "I know what I'm doing and he cares about me unlike you and Dick and Bruce!" Jason screams and he doesn't mean it and he says it anyway. Maybe Crane is right. What if he is right? "We were a fucking mistake! You used me and tried to make yourself feel better by being with me!"

You pause and...that hurt. That still hurt. But instead of heartbreak, it fuels your anger. With the drug, your heartbreak gets confused with anger and all you want to do is hurt him back.

"We were a mistake?" You ask through gritted teeth.

The anti-fear drug doesn't just wipe away fear, it turns perfectly good people into hollowed and cruel skeletons of who they used to be. They're puppets under Crane's control once he says one sentence. Jason being desperate and feeling abandoned led him to Crane but the drug keeps him believing Crane. The drug keeps him in line. And you're having a similar side effect because normally, you'd never even think about hurting Jason but that's all you want because he hurt you. The drug turns perfectly good and decent people, into evil and malicious and calloused versions that are unrecognizable to everyone else.

Jason shrugs his shoulders. "Weren't we?" Jason questions and he doesn't mean it. But the panic and pain and fear is replaced with anger so he fires. "I'm worse, right? Nothing got better with you. I fucking died on your watch." Jason scoffs.

"I didn't get you killed, fuck you." You scoff.

"That all you got? Did I hurt your little feelings?" A grin pulls at Jason's lips and the voice echoing in the back of his head lets out a loud cry and it cracks the sturdy glass the drug creates. He knows he'll regret this. He doesn't mean it. He swears he doesn't mean it.

"I don't even know you right now and I don't think I want to." You shake your head and even when you know you should hold back, you don't. The words come out in a hasty rage before you can even process them because they'll hurt him. "This why Rose lied to you? Maybe it was to protect herself from you, right? Get close and you lose your shit and hit below the belt."

"Fuck you! Yeah? What about Gar? You say I don't tell you shit, well now you know how he felt. How do you think Molly feels right now?" Jason snaps right back.

"Gar is my friend and he's waiting back at the manor for me." You shrug your shoulders as you look Jason up and down. "Where's Rose?" You quip back. You don't mean it. You don't mean any of it. You don't even know why you're thinking it. It's not true. This was a bad idea. The drug was a bad idea.

He knows. He knows deep down you don't mean it because he doesn't either. He'd never say any of this to you and he doesn't even think any of it. But Crane is in his head and he makes so many good points, and you're making him so fucking mad. And if it weren't for the drug, he knows, he'd be terrified of what's going to happen when Crane finds out you know. What Crane is going to ask him to do. He'd be scared for your life. And your well-being. He loves you but he can't see through the anger and the numbness. He can't see through it. But, there's still that pecking for you right in the back of his head, right in the stitched letters of your name on his heart. Not you.

"Leave or let me do this. Two fucking choices." Jason sucks in a breath before he turns around and heads back towards Hank.

"You're not killing him." You move towards Jason and yank him back by his hood, just enough to stop him.

Jason stumbles back, eyes locked and angered on you. "You gonna stop me?" Jason scowls, holding a scalpel in one hand.

You won't let him kill Hank. The drug says it'll be fun and then Hank will be out of your hair. You won't have to defend Jason against him anymore and he won't be annoying. He'll be dead. That'll be the end of it. Hank won't be a bother to anyone anymore but stopping Jason will piss him off and something about that seems a little bit more fun. But, there is a small pecking at the back of your head. Jason yanking you off of Jerry because you shouldn't have blood on your hands. The memory flashes like a flashbang against everything you should be thinking while high and you swear you won't let him. It's time to repay the favor, high or not.

Jason's formula was always a little off. The drug Jason is taking now is upgraded, it's better because Crane manufactured this with Jason's help getting the supplies. Your version is a little off.

"Only if you make me have to." You shake your head, blocking Hank from Jason.

Jason hesitates. If you were anyone else, you wouldn't have gotten this far into an argument and he's pretty sure you know that. And he also knows that with the drug, even his version of it, you won't back down.

"Hank has always treated me like shit. You don't fucking get it." Jason shakes his head.

"And killing him is gonna make it all better?" You quip back. "Cause that's shit. He's a fucking ass to me, too but I'm not trying to kill him."

"Because you were always a coward." Jason's voice lacks the venom this time as if he knows what he's saying isn't true and it's not right.

"Maybe." You shrug. "But at least I'm not someone killing an innocent person." You scoff. "So, what does that make you?" You ask and even in this state, you just want him to be the Jason before he died. It's all you want.

Jason shakes his head. "I'm not scared anymore." His voice is level this time and honest. The venom has evaporated and even in this state, your heart breaks. How did he fucking get here?

"Is it worth it? Losing your friends? Dick, Bruce, Gar?" You pause for a second. "Me?"

Jason shakes his head and you'll never get it. "You don't get it." He can't let you get in his head and that's what you're doing. Jason shuts his eyes for just a second before he shakes his head, snapping himself out of it. "Now move and go the fuck home."

You nod your head and Jason is the one drawing the line, not you. You have given him every chance and opportunity to give you a reason to side with him and he will not do it. He only gives you reasons to be against him and you hate it, even in this state.

"No." You shake your head and cross your arms. "You're gonna have to fucking fight me, Jay."

Jason moves forward, looking down at you and for a second, you think he'll let it go. But, instead, he shoves you to the side. Not hard, but enough to get you out of the way. Jason swears he's not going to be the one to fight you first. It is his one fucking line he has been able to not cross and he swears he can't do that. Not you.

You fire back, shoving him harder and further away from Hank.

"All you got, babe? Thought I taught you better than that." Jason taunts.

"Yeah, well, I learned from Dick, too and I'm not throwing the first punch." You stand toe-to-toe with Jason. "You'll have to do that, Red Hood."

"Out the fucking way." Jason shoves you again, this time a little harder than before.

"You get the fuck out of the way." You shove him harder, this time Jason falling to the ground.

He looks up at you with so much anger, it nearly breaks you. He's never looked at you like that before. And maybe if he weren't high, he'd find it impressive and endearing. But he is high and he doesn't give a fuck. He swings his leg, tripping you and you fall to the floor.

Jason is back on his feet before you, quickly moving to Hank and trying to get the bomb readjusted. You move closer to him, kicking Jason in the back of the knees and sending him to the floor which gives you enough time to get to your feet.

"Wake the fuck up, Hank!" You shake him quickly, trying to wake him up but Jason trips you again, this time taking one kick to the back of the knee and then the front.

You look at Jason as he's still on the ground. You're not going to get anywhere if all you two do is keep tripping each other. And the drug loves a good fight.

"Okay, fine. Do you really wanna do this? You really wanna fight me?" You question.

"You're the one that wants to fight." Jason huffs.

The part with the drug would love to fight you. He knows he will win but you'll put up a good fight and it'll be fun. But, the better part of him, the part that always wins when it comes to you, wants to kick his heart through his ribs and onto the cement floor. He can't fight you. He can't do it. Not you. Anyone but you.

"You're the one trying to kill someone." You quip.

"You're not gonna fucking stop me."

"I have to fucking try!" Your voice finally cracks as you yell.

"Good luck." Jason barks as he gets to his feet.

You don't really want to fight him either. Like Jason, you have that part of you that still doesn't want to cross that line, no matter what. But, Jason can't come back from killing one of your own. The Titans will never forgive that, regardless of his reason. It doesn't matter if this isn't really him. They won't forgive him because it's Jason. You don't want that for him. If your options are to fight him or let him kill Hank, you really only have one choice.

And the drug is thrilled about it.

You get to your feet, keeping a few feet between you. "If you go down for five seconds, this is it. Got it?" You offer him.

Jason lets out a cackle. "Fuck no."

"You're a better fighter, right? What the fuck are you so scared for?" You say it on purpose, knowing it'll get him to fight.

Jason eyes you for a few seconds, knowing he can't possibly say no now. The drug is winning over the logical side of him and he has to agree. But, he also knows he'll still pull his punches. Maybe you can go a few rounds and you'll get tired. Jason remembers how it feels when his version of the drug wears off and how long it usually lasts. He's not sure when you took it but he's hoping maybe a few rounds and it'll wear off a little, make you too tired to continue then neither of you have to fight your hardest. He doesn't want to and he's betting you don't either.

"Fine. Five seconds. You, too. You go down and I can finish what I started without you getting in the fucking way." Jason nods his head. "No weapons and no acid."

"Deal." You nod your head as you lift up your hoodie and unbuckle the belt with all of your knives, dropping it on the floor.

Jason pulls both guns from his holsters, walking over and putting them on a table. Then he starts pulling his own knives out of his pockets and boots, resting them with the guns before he walks back over. Jason stands three feet in front of you who's eyes haven't left him.

"Two outta three?" Jason questions and all he can hear is his heart in his ears.

"Fine." You agree, sucking in a breath. "You and me."

Jason's jaw locks. "You and me."

You and Jason stand a few feet away from each other. The two of you take a few seconds, almost contemplating if this is a good idea. This was a line Jason swore, no matter what, he'd never cross. It's you. He doesn't want to fight you but he has to do this. He doesn't have a choice. That's the thing about the anti-fear drug. He's easy to manipulate when it comes to Crane and he doesn't feel anything. Not just fear. So, he takes the first step forward and goes to trip you again but you dodge him, taking the first official swing to his face.

The two of you fight a little harder against each other than you normally do. You know you'll lose. You always did. It doesn't matter. He's better, he's faster. And the clairvoyance has a loophole. Apparently, a lot of it is rooted in fear factor, adrenaline and the anti-fear drug diminishes that. Fighting Jason without the clairvoyance is more difficult. You can't tell where the next hit is coming from and you have to be completely on defence. Maybe you should have trained a little more with Dick after all. But, you try and strike as hard and as fast as you can. You put up a good fight.

Jason is pulling his punches. You aren't in the suit. You have nothing to protect you and even though he should care more, he is not careless. He doesn't want to hurt you so he pulls his punches, despite knowing you'll never forgive him for it. And the more he pulls his punches, the better chance you stand on tiring yourself out by the time the drug starts to wear off. Jason is just buying time so he can finish Hank because he needs to. It's part of the plan. Crane said it has to happen and he has to listen. So, he keeps fighting until you go down twice, coughing and gasping.

Jason counts but it's slower than usual as you try to use your remaining energy against him to no avail. The drug might tell him this is fun and thrilling, it'll be worth it in the end. But, the real Jason hates every single second of this. It never should have been like this and if he weren't high, he would have walked away. If you weren't high, you probably would have, too. But, now you're both here bloody and bruised fighting over fucking Hank Hall.

"Five." Jason heaves from above you. His jaw is squared and he hates himself for it. "We had a deal." Jason takes in a full breath, watching your expression soften and fall, your pupils returning to normal.

You look up at him, blood pooling in your mouth and leaking from a gash on your head. Jason has blood splitting his lip and drips dropping from his nose. But, he's foggy and distant. You tried. You tried your absolute hardest and your eyes are heavy while your limps feel like the blood has been replaced with cement.

You sit up, your head spinning slightly but not the way it usually does with a concussion, this is different. You rest your hands on the floor, scooting back until your back hits the wall and you lean your head back, closing your eyes.

You're so tired. You're exhausted and all you want to do is sleep. But, the fear starts to creep back into your system. The numbness you felt is being washed away like a sandcastle on a beach while the tide comes in. And everything starts to hurt.

Everything you just said to Jason, everything he said it you. It all hurts and then fear comes in and now you're terrified you messed everything up. What happens if Crane finds out you know? Is Crane going to think Jason did it? Is he going to find a replacement? What if he wants you dead and asks Jason to do it? Where does that leave him?

Jason glances over to you as he gets the bomb readjusted. The gash doesn't seem deep, there isn't too much blood and the blood from your mouth is from a small cut on your lip. It's nothing worse than what either of you got from sparring with each other and Gar and Rachel. But, Jason watches you for a few more seconds, just being sure.

"You okay?" Jason finds it himself to ask as he places the bomb in position.

"Tired." Your voice cracks and you think about what the Titans are going to say when Hank dies.

This is your fault. You weren't fast enough and you weren't good enough. Hank is going to die because Jason was manipulated and used and put a bomb in his chest. And you were too weak to stop him. Even while high, you still pulled your punches because it's him. They're never going to forgive either of you.

"It's wearing off, isn't it?" Jason asks, his voice stern as he places the bomb in Hank's chest, following the blueprints.

"Yeah..." Your voice is so small, making Jason look back over at you. He's definitely burning that lab down.

You wonder if this is normal. If it is, how did you miss it? You wonder how much Jason actually used it for you to have not noticed. Maybe he only used it a few times and only when he was out. The drug definitely didn't last very long. You just wish you would have noticed something was wrong.

"You'll feel better in a bit." Jason states as he closes the skin around the bomb.

You fall silent, keeping your eyes closed. This can't be what a normal comedown feels like. You're somehow both so exhausted you could sleep for a week and you're terrified. Every piece of fear you had before is amplified and you're stuck between wanting to sleep and wanting to run away from everything. If you thought you could get up, you'd run out of Gotham and away from this mess. But, your head is spinning and your arms and legs hurt while your chest feels like it's going to collapse on itself.

Jason calls your name, glancing over to you again.

He knows what happens with his version. There's a comedown and it's rough. Every fear and mistake and regret floods back in a tidal wave, taking over all of the relief the drug provided all while making it impossible to stay awake. It doesn't last long, twenty minutes but Jason swears it's always long enough to keep him going back to the drug to not feel that way again. The new version has a similar effect but instead of a crash, it's slower like a stranger in the night following him and waiting for the perfect moment. With every step, he grows more uneasy and home seems further away. But, you didn't take the new version, so he keeps glancing at you just to make sure you're okay.

Maybe this whole thing was a bad idea.

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