Its a David’s Tea Perfect Mug that I picked up at the beginning of spring. I just checked their website and unfortunately it looks like they have phased it out for this season. Sorry!
Okay so Dungeons and Dragons group is coming together.
I'mma tag all the people in group so far because it is easier that way. I believe the edition that was agreed upon was 5e. Hopefully more people with join with us. Anyways we need to get together so we can set up a good time and what would be best for us to use for this thing. :)
FOR THOSE WHO HAVEN'T JOINED, PLEASE JOIN. If you are nervous, to make you feel better, I completely new to this edition as well so come screw somethings up with me.
You-know-who here, Okay so my ban got upped by a month because my computer died (which it does frequently and I've said repeated that it does. it's kind of crap) But during the trial I immediately tried to log back on and got the banned for a month message.
Part 2:
"Earl here, I had some questions as to why my one month ban was doubled. Someone said that it was extended because my laptop died during the trial. I tried to log back in immediately after my restart and got a "1 Month Ban" countdown. So I assumed that was the end of the discussion. I wanted to check how much time I had l left this morning and it was extended."
Okay. You realise we didn't, and had no way of knowing this, yes? We checked the server console, and it said disconnect: disconnect, so we knew it wasn't due to lag/internet connection issues. Asides from that, and considering the way you had been acting, we were under the impression it was deliberate on your part. Also, apparently you were on a skype call with an online player at the time, and they didn't mention anything...till yesterday.
Basically, we've heard different things from different people, and have no way of knowing what, if any, of those things are correct.
Though what particularly doesn't help your case is that it's been 13 days, and this only gets mentioned now? We also don't appreciate you getting people to play messenger for you, evidently you know how to contact us directly.
This is one that's been floating in my head for awhile and I hope it's angsty enough for you: Something goes terribly wrong at a lab and Tim gets superpowers, the catch is that now he's highly radioactive (think Red Star) and is toxic to be around. Jason knows the risks and would rather have a shorter life from radiation poisoning/cancer than leave Tim.
Here you go, sorry for taking a while~
---
Tim cursed at himself and banged his head against the wall. He hated this, all of it. Goddammit, he has been avoiding everyone he knows since the incident.
He was supposed to finish going through the lab reports without any trouble when an explosion was heard. He of course needed to see what happened instead of evacuating. The explosion had been in one of the research parts…he became affected with something. Something that gave him powers, something that made him dangerous, poisonous.
He closed his eyes out of frustration when he heard the apartment door open. Of course all the forces of the world would be against him. Or maybe he’s overreacting there.
The dip in the bed didn’t make him open his eyes nor did the soft lips against his own.
“I told you, leave.” He said slowly, tiring and finally opened his eyes to look at Jason in front of him.
“And I told you, there’s no way in hell I’m going to leave you.”
Sighing softly, he pecked Jason’s lips, not smiling. He wasn’t happy with this…but there wasn’t anything he could do about it.
Jason shook his head and pulled the cover away and gestured at the bed. “Go to sleep, baby bird. You haven’t slept for two days already…”
Tim punched his arms lightly with a scowl on his lips but he shifted so he could crawl under the covers without bothering to remove his clothes.
He curled in on himself once Jason crawled in behind him and spooned him from behind.
Shortly after he fell asleep, even though the worry of killing Jason was still there.
(A/N: I am still working on the prompts and having a lot of fun with them.)
The first thing he noticed was the light. He was still regaining consciousness when a blue-white glow flooded his vision. It burned his eyes and followed him as turned his turned his head. A groan fell out of his throat in frustration.
“It appears Mr. Grayson is responding to stimuli.” And the voice above him seemed pleased by the development. The simple penlight clicked off and Dick’s senses were slowly coming back to him. Confused blue eyes darted around the room as he tried to figure out what had happened.
The small room was white and meticulously clean, and the smell of fresh paint still lingered in the air. His hand refused to move when he tried to rub at the dull ache in his head. Leather and metal rattled at he struggled against the straps binding his wrists and ankles to a metal operating table. He couldn’t find anything to pick the lock. He could see that his clothing had been changed to a pair of thin gray hospital pants. New bandages covered up cuts and scrapes from being pulled out of the wreckage hours earlier. The last thing he remembered was blacking out before he had the chance to escape.
Tim had sent Kon in to rescue him, after all he never intended for his brother to die. “Good morning Dick, or should I say ‘good evening’?” The teen joked with a smile as he checked the IV imbedded in his brother’s wrist. He was pleased that fluid and heart levels were all within safe operating ranges.
“Tim? Wha-what the hell is going on?” Dick stammered, suddenly frightened by whatever mystery chemical was lazily dripping into his veins. “Where am I?” He demanded to know. The teen seemed confused by the question, tilting his head to side like a puppy. “Home” He said suddenly, like the word was a new concept “at least for now.”
A machine started to hum outside of his field of vision and Tim sat beside him in a wheeled office chair. He had time to kill while it warmed up. “Don’t worry, it just saltwater and a little something to keep you relaxed.”He said, taking note of his brother’s concerned look. The real danger was already brewing in his bloodstream. Sedated blue eyes quickly perked up as if remembering something important, “Oh, do try not to fight the nanobots too much. Raises the chance of nosebleeds, brain damage-that sort of thing.”
Tim frowned as his brother’s heart rate spiked as he did just the opposite of what he wanted. “Nanobots? When?” Dick exclaimed.
The teen’s face split into a cat’s grin, proud that he outsmarted a house full of detectives. He could have laughed at how easy it was and that none of them bothered to remember that who helped build the medical scanner in the first place.
“Remember when both of you got poisoned at the night club, and the whole thing seemed too easy?” The chair rolled over so Tim could tap at his brother’s forehead as he said “The hallucinations were just a cover, so I could place thousands of little nanites that are now crawling around in your skull.” He wanted to see what they would do with the chance to kill him, and Jason’s behavior afterwards was…unexpected to say the least. Unexpected, but not unpleasant.
“You’re going to brainwash me.” Dick said horrified at what the teen was capable of.
“I like to call it ‘reprogramming’” He said with a shrug and started to explain, Dick deserved the truth “Being at Greenvale, going through the electroshock, the therapies, and the medication…I have such a great sense of clarity now.” The incessant humming stopped and a light on it turned from red to green. Tim noticed and took a blue tub off of a shelf, toying with it in his hands. “I spent so much time and effort trying to get everyone to like me, but I realized that don’t really need to. I don’t have to change myself to make someone love me because I should be with someone that cares for me the way I am. Even if they need some encouraging.” He said with a smile.
The nanobots took time to alter the host’s mind. The process with Conner took months, but he didn’t have long before someone noticed Dick was gone. There was a way to speed things up, but it was less than pleasant. He unscrewed the lid off of the tub and applied the cold salve to Dick’s temples. It was funny in a way, the electroshock machine that cured him would now cure them.
He considered doing the same to Jason, but any good relationship needs trust to stay healthy. At least that’s what his doctors said.
So what if he lied a little during therapy and drove a few nurses insane? It was scientific progress.
Nightwing realized in horror what he was being prepped for and that escape was hopeless. His only option was to keep him talking and pray that there was some sanity left to appeal to before it was too late. In desperation he begged, “Tim let me go, you don’t want to do this.”
There was a look of hurt that flashed before the boy’s eyes and for a brief moment he could see the younger brother he lost. He started speaking softly as if he was trying to convince himself of what he was doing, “Soon we’ll be a family again and maybe you’ll even enjoy it, like Kon did.”
The diodes were applied to the vigilante’s temples and Dick braced himself for the pain of a lightning bolt crashing through his skull. The blow was stalled when Tim wrapped his arms around his brother’s neck, placing a small kiss on his forehead. “I wish I could say that it won’t hurt, but I promise to make it up to you when it’s over.” The teen gave him a hopeful grin, further highlighting the vast disconnect between an innocent mind and cruel hand. The moment Tim’s hands left his face, the torture began. A burning heat shot through his body and his back arched in pain.
The agony lasted for less than a second, stealing the air from his lungs. A white light flashed before his eyes, and he swore that they threatened to burn out of his skull. His chest aching like he had been struck as he fought against the binds with every drop of strength. His wrists and ankles became bruised from the struggle. The echoes of screams he couldn’t remember rang in his ears. Tim would barely let him catch his breath before he flipped the switch a second time. As the jolts reached double digits, years of training and discipline abandoned him along with any hope of rescue. He cried out in anger and suffering, swearing and begging for release.
He didn’t know what to say to make it stop. Sometimes he called the teen awful names and others he was pleading forgiveness. Veins were lit on fire as the cycle continued.
Each jolt hurt him worse than the last, tearing down his defenses and searing deep enough to leave a brand on his mind. There was a buzzing in his skull as his personality was fractured a sliver at a time. Thoughts and memories were ripped from his head during what felt like an eternity. The teen’s hand stilled for a moment, letting his fingers rest on the switch. Dick’s heart beat wildly in his chest like a trapped bird fighting against its cage.
Was the sudden reprieve the mercy or forgiveness that the teen spoke of? He sobbed openly in his torment, cold tears ran down a too-warm face. He wanted to give in, to do anything to make the pain go away. He wished his heart would fail him now to spare him the living horror of being trapped inside his own head. A pounding worse than any relentless beating tore at his consciousness. Voices murmured outside of his senses and he tried to discern if it was a product of his ringing ears. The room spun when he tried to look around. His teeth seemed to vibrate in his mouth.
Shaking hands touched his damp forehead and was surprised not to find blood. He could feel hair wet with sweat and knew that his skull was still in one piece, even if the contents were not. The crying and gasping slowed enough for him to form one thought: Run.
He rolled off of the table and hit hard tiled flooring in a heap. He did not question why the binds were suddenly gone. The hard surface was frigid in comparison to the hot torrent of blood flowing just under the skin. A wave of sickness over took him when he tried to stand. His stomach dry heaved in protest and his hold on the table was only thing keeping from falling again.
If he fell now, there would be no getting back up.
His legs were weak underneath him, but he managed to find the will. Gray shapes blurred and swam as moved forward, using his hands to steady him as he tried to find the exit. He couldn’t find his captor and prayed that he wouldn’t for a long time. He went past a door and found that the building seemed to fall apart beyond it.
If he was well, he would have heard a phone ringing when the torture stopped. Kon held out the phone so the teen could talk as he wiped the blood of his hands. Dick had bitten his lip halfway through the torture, delirious from the thousands of volts bouncing around his skull.
Bruce had called, asking how he was adapting to being back in Gotham. He could have screamed, taken the phone from his hands and called for help.
The operating room gave way to what was left of an abandoned apartment building. Paint chips fell from the walls and crunched under his bare feet. Some doors were boarded up with molded wood and forgotten for what looked like decades while others were brand new. Decay fought against floral perfume and he found that he could no longer hear the voices.
Hurrying, he chose a door recently used and as blue as the sky. His hopes were raised and dashed in an instant, it was a bedroom.
The room was like stepping into a dream untouched by the horrors just beyond the walls. A large canopy bed stood serenely in the far corner with its translucent sheets pulled shut. Glassy eyes followed him as dolls and stuffed animals were scattered on all surfaces and covered large sections of the floor. Black wires blended in with orange and stripes. Unbeknownst to him, the toys were gifts from Kon knowing that his master enjoyed them but not the reason.
Cables and cords crossed the exposed carpet like the roots of a tree. They lead him to a series of computers and monitors, old and new with servers connected by cables that spanned the room. Machines were broken open and cannibalized to create the teen’s network. He saw red dots moving on a GPS screen. Briefly he wondered if that was what Tim felt like, a bunch of unmatching pieces sewn together.
He gulped thickly as he passed the bed, frightened by what it might mean. He thought of what happened to Jason and walked past it on edge, waiting for something inside to move.
The broken hero looked over the mess of computers briefly, thinking that it shouldn’t be that hard to find a way to shut it down. Frantic hands searched for connections and started pulling, metal was bent with the force and cords sparked in protest.
Tim was standing in the doorway and watched the violent act with mild interest, his crutches tucked under his arms. The minor act of defiance was cute to him, like a puppy chewing on his owner’s shoes. Any damage his older brother made could be fixed in a matter of hours. “It’s not nice to barge into someone else’s room.” He said abruptly, seeing how Dick’s body froze in fear at being caught. Blue eyes glanced around the room to search for a weapon. “You’ve had a big day Richard, I think it’s time you got some rest.” He said pleasantly, as if Dick was an excited child that just came home from Disneyland.
Dick’s hands twitched as his side, he could fight back. He had been trained to know over a hundred ways to take someone down in an instant. After everything he’s done, killing Tim would be a treat. That train of thought was dashed the moment Conner stepped on the scene.
It was a fight that Nightwing wanted to avoid, but one look in his eyes told him that that wasn’t an option. The clone was too far gone to ever be right again. “What did he do to you?” He asked his former ally with no response.
Tim watched the scene, allowing his friend to dirty his hands instead. It was hardly a struggle as Dick was drugged with a syringe to his throat, slumping down over the bed. The unconscious man was as boneless as a rag doll when he was picked up. There would be more surgeries before the process was complete. The teen went on ahead to get the tools ready, eager for how loving Dick would become.
Kon hesitated as he still held his master’s brother in his arms. He was not threatened by Dick or Bruce, their roles in the teen’s heart were clearly defined. They would be little more than animate versions of the dolls that decorated his room. But Jason was different.
He was self-centered and arrogant, and he would never want Tim the same way he did. The man could not appreciate the feeling of scars on his back or Tim’s fingers running through his head. He would not ask to be reprogrammed.
Conner’s knuckles cracked as he made a fist, he could force him. He had seen the procedure enough times to perform it by heart. The wayward robin would be fixed or die in the process.
…
It was harder coming here this time despite having a key. This was the last place he should be but his addiction called out to him, fevered and hungry. The apartment was still as quiet as a tomb and maybe it was. He found the teen on the bed, idling with a textbook in one hand and a yellow marker in the other. He came home from work not long ago. Jason was sober this time, no longer needing the alcohol as an excuse.
His hands were on the boy in an instant, tangling in his hair and crushing their lips together. The book was taken out of his hands and tossed across the room. Tim laughed like it was some sort of game.
He’d been calling Dick for hours without an answer. He shouldn’t have snapped at him like that or this never would have happened. He wanted to apologize for being stupid, for being weak, for everything he could think of. But it felt so good when he was around Tim.
If he brought it up, the teen would’ve said they were making a mistake again and he didn’t want to be left alone with Dick’s disappointment. A thin tee-shirt was pulled up just enough for Jason’s teeth to find his nipples. “Don’t leave me”, he pleaded weakly and was unwilling to say it out loud.
He wanted everything the boy had to offer.
Tim had never wanted to change him, never looked at him like he was something broken. He loved the man as he was and adored every scar. The teen didn’t mind being late for class and never said a word of protest as jeans were pulled off of slim hips. A brief question flashed through the haze, could someone in Tim’s position even give consent?
Hands and mouths fought for purchase as claimed every inch. Everything about this was rougher than it would have been years ago. The beginnings of bruises marked where his mouth was moments before. A part of him was still angry at him, even if he refused to say it. If it wasn’t for the boy’s bewitching ways his family wouldn’t be leaving him now.
But Tim never stopped wanting him, no matter how much he wanted the scars on his wrists to go away.
He thinks that he can control the boy, keeping him in line with rough sex and bubblebaths. There was adoration and a warning in these meetings. He wanted Tim to know how small and weak he was as an oiled finger was pushed inside of him. The boy was loved and knew his neck would be snapped the moment he was seen as a threat. Jason was the one in control now or as far as he knew. “Congratulations” His conscience said, “You can force yourself on a crippled and mentally-ill nineteen year old.”
Jason thought he was abusive and Tim couldn’t stop grinning.
He welcomed the firm hand and treasured each hit. A joyous scream tore its way out of his throat when Jason was finally inside. His legs wrapped tight around his lover’s waist, holding on as the bed was groaning underneath them. Adoring every minute of the push-pull sensation it created. Jason made him promise to be his and to never hurt him again, the boy vowed wholeheartedly.
He didn’t know that the boy could kill him with a push of a button or reprogram him into the perfect pet-boyfriend. Luckily, if Tim wanted perfect he wouldn’t be interested in the most damaged man he ever met.
The boy’s body arched dramatically when he finally came, mewling and begging as hot seed was pumped into him.
They were left sweaty and sticky from their sins, the missed class altogether forgotten. They panted and kissed, when it was over Tim thanked him for the affection.
