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greenishghostey · 2 years

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It's Fantasy, babe

Pairing: Eddie Muson x fem!reader

Summary: You decide to indulge in a fun fantasy with your boyfriend: Eddie, sneaking into your room and cumming inside you.

Warnings: This fic contains graphic 18+ content. Please do not engage with you are underage! Unprotected sex, penetrative sex, rough but with lots of love, established relationship, fingering, fluffy smut, Eddie cannot shut up ever, enthusiastic consent, Eddie just trying rock your world as best he can

A/N: This is the first smut I've ever written and I promise I tried my best. The idea had been rolling around in my head for a while so I bit the bullet and just tried it. DO NOT REPOST OR EDIT MY WORK

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The discussion between you and Eddie had been a long time coming. You’d found a particularly filthy romance novel about a princess and her noble knight. They’d shared a night together rolling around in her royal quarters, and he came in her until she was dripping, full and shaking. He had snuck into her rooms after the castle fell asleep, embraced her in her soft, flowing nightgown and showed her heaven and hell simultaneously.

You wanted that too. You wanted to be the princess. You wanted Eddie to push your legs back, knees to your ears and fuck his cum into your cunt as many times as he wanted to - possibly even making love to you at the same time. You weren’t going to be too picky. You wanted your soft pastel blue bedsheets to be stained and sticky under your ass as he. Just. Kept. Going.

Eddie had jumped at your request for him to sneak in on Friday night after your parents fell asleep. They’d had busy weeks at work. They wouldn’t be stirring until at least 10 am the next morning.

And that was how you found yourself under the gorgeous weight of Eddie’s naked form. He was smiling down with immeasurable happiness. He was so warm and solid and beautiful. Dreamy was the word that came to your mind. So dreamy, so pretty, and all yours.

His thick, calloused fingers were deep in your soaked cunt, massaging and stretching your puffy walls. Eddie always did this thing with his middle and ring finger, crooking them up to push you to the edge of orgasm and keep you there for a while. You said he only did it to show off his guitarist fingering skills; he said he did it because he just loved you that much.

“Gotta get you ready for me, princess. You wanted a long night, and you’re gonna get it.” He teased before licking a long, fat stripe up the column of your neck. “God, babe, I’m gonna slip right in. She missed meeee.” Eddie chuckled as you gripped his fingers and wiggled your hips. He had to appreciate that his being a little goofy during sex still got you squirming.

“Eddie,” you whined, groping your tits and gazing up at him through half-lidded eyes, “Hurry. Up.” You moved to knot your fingers in his shaggy hair, now grinding desperately on his fingers - one of his rings bumping against your clit and fuck. You came with a muffled moan, Eddie having quickly silenced you in a deep kiss. He made sure that his tongue tasted every pretty noise you were making for him.

Eddie’s chest heaved as he pulled away. Like it was agony.

He ran the head of his swollen cock up and down your hole, pressing the tip in ever so slightly to have you claw at his forearms. You were going to draw blood from the bats, but, shit, it felt phenomenal. Nothing got his blood running hotter than seeing his lady all desperate. Craving, yearning, maybe even a little feral, much like himself.

“My girl wants it so bad, huh? My dick, my cum, me. Fuuuck, I love you.” He groaned, continuing to push his angry tip in and out of your cunt. He liked the tease of sex with you. The raw feeling of pushing both of you to the point of nearly mauling each other.

“Ed - Eddie, come on, please. I need you. I’ll ask so nicely if you want. Just-“ your pleas and begging were cut short by the glorious stretch of Eddie’s cock as he seated himself fully inside. It usually took some time for him to get in fully, but he was right; he slid right into the hot, sticky bliss. Your head slammed back into your fluffy pillows, and you had to bite your hand to contain the urge to scream. After two years of being together, he was still just so big. Fucking perfect, but still big. It would be best if you guys had done this at his place. Sure, the entire trailer park would find out that the Munson boy was getting his dick wet, but you would be able to be loud. However, the fantasy required your soft double bed and floral bedspread - your “chambers” that he would sneak into.

The pace that was set immediately was brutal, like animals, like in the book. Yes, God, yes. It was all skin slapping skin and the obscene squelch of fucking without any barriers. Eddie leant down to press his forehead to yours so he could pant, whine and grunt into your mouth. He was so considerate when he was at your place and knew you guys had be quiet - well, quieter.

“You’re so so tight, baby. Is this what you wanted?” he whispered, hot breath fanning across your burning cheeks, “raw and fucking filthy in your nice, cosy bedroom, yeah?” He laughed breathily and moulded his full lips to yours. The slam of his hips never faltered as he grabbed and rubbed your waist - still maintaining a level of tenderness while splitting you open on his cock. He was chasing his orgasm with more desperation than usual. You made it clear that you would need to be leaking and creamy to fulfil this fun little fantasy, and who was he to deny the princess her requests? You’d been so damn polite when asking him for this too.

“You said you wouldn’t laugh, Eds,” you murmured, pulling away from the searing kiss by literal millimetres. Legs wrapping around him and feet digging into his ass, he wasn’t going as deep as he could, and that needed to be changed. You could feel yourself gushing with every hard thrust, dangling on the precipice of cumming.

“Would never laugh at you. I’m having the time of my goddamn life here.” He sighed, a wide beaming smile spreading across his sweat-covered face. He was glowing under the light of your bedside lamp. Wow. Eddie’s big hands moved from your waist to the backs of your thighs. Yes, yes, yes, he hiked your legs up and back until you were folded in half. If you wanted deeper, then he was going to go as deep as physically possible. Eddie needed you to feel him in your fucking stomach.

Never in your life had you been so thankful for getting rid of your old spring mattress. Because the force behind Eddie’s thrusting was insane. He prided himself on having impressive stamina that only seemed to come out when he was inside you - quite frankly, Eddie never wanted to leave your cunt. That was especially the case now, with your toes accidentally tangling in his hair. “Oops, sorry,” you muttered, breaking away from your sex-induced haze to angle your feet differently. It would have been awkward, but this was with Eddie. Awkward was never even part of the conversation.

“You could kick me in the head right now, and I’d say thanks, don’t worry.” Eddie giggled, running a thumb over your sweaty cheek. He shifted slightly to get more comfortable for what he had planned - it might be a little risky, but it would be worth it. You reached up to fix the hair you’d messed up with your feet and giggled, but Eddie’s face showed that he was deep in thought about something. Before you could ask if anything was wrong, he spoke, “What’s on the other side of that wall?” He nodded his head towards the wall behind your metal-barred headboard.

“Linen closet, why?” you asked, the gears in your head turning quickly and figuring out his plan. He was calculating risk; you were so proud of him.

“And how far away is your parents' room?”

“Other end of the hall.” Your breathing had moved onto panting now. The headboard had already started to knock against the wall a little, but Eddie was about to make it a whole lot worse.

“Perfect. Hold these pretty legs back for me, please?” He was grinning like a horny maniac. You did as he asked almost a bit too quickly, holding your legs back and as wide as you could get them in your current position. “Atta girl. First load’s gotta be an extra special experience, right?” One of Eddie’s hands got a strong grip on your headboard while the other moved to flick and massage your clit in tight little circles. You whined at the contact, knowing that your fantasy was about to reach the first of several climaxes.

Eddie started up his almost punishing pace again. But this time, he had more leverage to force his cock into you and mould your walls to the shape of him. The squelch of fucking was somehow even louder than before. Now mixed with the sloppy sound of Eddie playing with your clit and grunting like an animal in heat. You weren’t much better with your whining and mewling. Reaching up to hold his ecstasy-coloured face as best you could.

“Aw, she’s all sensitive and weepy for me, isn’t she, babe?” Eddie groaned straight into your ear. Your legs had started to shake from just how deep you could feel his cock as it pounded into your g-spot. The reply he got from you was a sniffled nod and your big wet eyes staring up into his. “You wanna beg for it? I think you wanna beg for me to fill you up.” Fuck, he was so right. You hated when he was right.

“I-I need you to cum, Eds. I wanna feel it so fucking bad,” you hiccuped; it felt like you were on the verge of crying from how deliciously overwhelmed you were. “I’ve been good.” Eddie’s gaze snapped down to meet yours, and the look on his face was beautiful. His big eyes widened, and his jaw was slack as he whined at your comment. You had been such a good girl for him. You always were.

That did it. Eddie slammed into you with a few more, and his rhythm was pretty much gone by that point. When he came, he silenced his guttural wail by biting down on your shoulder hard. Normally, you would have scolded him for leaving a mark, but right now? It made the whole experience so much better as you came with him.

The two of you stayed together, panting, for a while after that. Eddie didn’t want to pull out of you until he absolutely had to, and you relished in feeling his sweaty weight press you into the mattress. The intimacy for the moment was your favourite. For all that Eddie tried to make the world believe that he was mean and scary, he was far from it. He was practically purring as you ran your fingers through his hair and massaged his scalp - a big dorky smile on his face and everything.

Eddie untangled himself from your body and sat up, scraping his hair out of his hair and fanning himself. The demon head on his chest was staring at you like it was proud. Bastard. Before you could form words to ask if Eddie needed water or anything, he flipped you over onto your stomach and pulled your ass up, back arching all pretty how he liked it. He stared at his cum oozing from your cunt in fascination. Yeah, you guys were going to be doing this again.

“Good for round two, sweetheart?” Eddie chirped, giving your ass a sharp smack. You whimpered and nodded - words wouldn’t be possible for the rest of the night; you could feel it in the throb of your clit.

#my writing #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #stranger things #fic #fluff #smut #i hope this doesn't suck TOO much

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insanelyadd · 10 months

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#LetSansRest Day!

Hello everyone and welcome to year two of Let Sans Rest Day! Same as last year it's August 9th.

Before we get into some prompts, a little bit of a mission statement. Last year I said this day was for everyone who's a fan of Sans Undertale or anyone who's tired of every image they see of him being him Suffering. This is still true, but I do want to additionally address something I saw a few different people mention.

I have actually received criticism for daring to suggest that Sans not be tormented to the point of insanity, and that this day where I implore people to make realities where Sans doesn't become a creepypasta insane murderer man from the agony he is subjected to, isn't a stand against ableism like Let Papyrus Say Fuck Day is. *stares in bipolar psychosis and PTSD directly into your eyes* Obviously that's a load of shit, and even though Sans is more popular than Papyrus (I say, as a Papyrus Enjoyer) a lot of the content around Sans is very specifically about him suffering. So simply out of spite for these comments (including someone who saw last year's announcement and directly commented "No <3" on the post) I will be continuing this holiday indefinitely, just like LetPapyrusSayFuck Day. Die mad about it.

Just like how I have ADHD and relate to Papyrus and see the way the fandom treats him as the infantilization of neurodivergency like autism and ADHD, I can look at works in this fandom of Sans that demonize traits of mental illness like trauma, hallucinations, delusions, and mania. And I can say these are both bad actually. Not going to call anyone a bad person for engaging in these things, of course, that would be a bit goofy of me, I'm just saying the imagery used for these things is Very Loaded and a lot of people are mishandling them.

So anyways August 9th is the day we let Sans Undertale out of his Torment Nexus so he can:

Have lemonade at the beach or pool

Go stargazing while camping out in the woods with friends and family

Get smothered in cute baby kittens and puppies

Go to therapy and play with one of those magnetic sculptures all therapists seem to own

Take a nap on an inner-tube on a lazy river

Get to see the leaves change color for the first time

Play basketball with Papyrus

Fall asleep in a basket of freshly dried clothes

Go to a public greenhouse to look at all the different flowers on the surface

Perform stand-up for humans who all love his terrible puns

Please tag the post with #LetSansRest, #Sans, and #undertale as well as any other applicable tags for characters, relationships, etc. This day is primarily for classic Sans but it's not like I can stop you from drawing Fell Sans not being subjected to his own, personal, goth-themed Torment Nexus.

This is meant to be a day for everyone who wants Sans Undertale to go to therapy and feel better. People who want to put him in a hamster cage with plenty of things to prank for enrichment. People who want to win him one of those massive stuffed animals at the county fair.

If you want to participate please be mindful of some things:

I will be monitoring the tag to reblog things! I have ptsd and would appreciate if ships involving Papyrus or Frisk (and similar) with Sans are avoided. This is simply for my mental health and I greatly appreciate it. <3

Do Not post angst to the #LetSansRest tag. It is meant to be an angst free tag for him.

Don't worry if you can't participate on the exact day! Just like with #LetPapyrusSayFuck Day you can use the tag and post to it any day! :>

Hope you're able to participate and have fun! <3

#letsansrest #undertale #sans

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sky-kiss · 8 months

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Okay hear me out. This isn't exactly a request unless...👀

But the Raphael x Tav dynamic where he is the only one who can poke fun or give them a hard time is eating my brain.

Like "I can call them a vapid little fool, but if anyone else does the exact same thing it's hellfire and brimstone for them. For a hundred years."

He'd call it affection if it was in his vocabulary.

A/n: This is short, but I’ve been doing a lot of Carrot!Raph and not a lot of Stick!Raph. Some gore and torture ahead. XD Also I don't think this is what you wanted RIP.

__________

“All this caterwauling! You should really feel blessed, little lamb! I rarely sully my hands these days.” Raphael folded his hands at the small of his back. Isolated from the scene around him, the devil would have appeared perfectly genteel: his doublet remained pressed, hair immaculate. Only the eyes were different, violently bright in the prison’s omnipresent gloom.

Souls and prisoners howled around them, some in agony, some in a desperate attempt to catch the Master’s attention. He didn’t hear; only his guest mattered.

The cambion stopped, lingering just outside their field of vision. They’d finally stopped screaming, lapsing into hiccuping sobs, slumped in on themselves. Not his finest work, he’d be the first to admit, but the rage had come upon him too abruptly for a more cerebral punishment. He reached out, fisting his hand in the sweaty mass of their hair, and tugged their head back. Terror flooded their eyes; their mouth tried to curl back in horror but failed to manage it. His claws left the cheek a ruin of tissue. He tapped a nail against the wound. They knew better than to twitch away.

“Remind me why I’m entertaining you, little one.”

It took three attempts before they could finally choke the word out: “Duchess.”

“Ah, yes. How forgetful! You will have to forgive the indiscretion.” Raphael stepped closer. He’d made quite a mess, honestly. Bones jutted from strange, haphazard angles; he’d removed a few in a fit of pique. He didn’t believe they were essential, but it was always so difficult to tell with mortals. He yanked, and the little thing screamed their anguish. “And what was it you said? Be specific; your life depends on it.”

“W…whore. Whore queen. Raph…” they winced. The mouth couldn't form the words, an ever-increasing disconnect between the body and brain as blood loss took its toll. “Your cunt.”

“An inelegant summation.” He wiped his hand on the thing’s shoulders, glancing across the chamber. “Care to vouch for them, duchess?”

His pet chuckled. What a sight! His finest treasure, her gown set with gems, gold chains hanging about her horns. He had created art with her. “It is they say, my duke.”

“And that bodes well for you, little one.” Raphael knelt beside them, stroking hair back from their face. They turned their face into the motion, an awful pantomime of intimacy. “Though…perhaps not as well as you might have hoped. I guard my treasures so zealously, and she is first among them. You understand, don’t you?”

They nodded, miserable.

“But I am not without mercy. Should you apologize to her…we could start fresh. Would you like that, little one?” He pitched his voice lower, speaking as if in conspiracy. Two friends, ready to make peace. They released a shuddering breath and nodded. Raphael held out his arm to his duchess. She came to him with vibrant eyes and a smile, a pretty reflection of all he’d accomplished. His conquest, his might, his pretty love. “Begin, wretch.”

“Beg…beg forgiveness, dutchess. Please…gods, please, forgive us…”

His duchess hummed. “You are forgiven, wretch.” And to Raphael, “My love, must you play with your food? Are you nearly finished?”

“Very nearly, little mouse. First,” he withdrew a vial from his doublet, a draught of restorative waters. He held it to his guest's lips. Like magic, flesh mended itself! Wounds shrunk and disappeared! In a matter of moments, they were whole once more.

“Merciful King, kind lord,” they sobbed, crawling towards him. The wretch painted the toe of his boot with kisses. “Never again. Not a word against you or the lady will pass my lips.”

“No. I imagine not.” He nudged their ribs with his boots. “Alas, our fresh start will have to wait. My duchess requires me.” The imps crawled forward, hungry and eager. “I leave you in my staff’s ever-capable hands.”

#raphael bg3 #bg3 raphael #raphael x tav #asks #my fic #cw: torture #cw: gore #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction

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kittyadore · 1 year

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Hi Hi 👋🏼 can you please do an earth 42 miles x reader when it's Halloween and they go out trick or treating together 💟

halloween

—𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘦!42 𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘴

—𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵

—𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵; 1,4𝘬

—𝘢/𝘯; hi lovelies, thank u so much for the request !! i had fun writing this, i really think e!42 miles is a cutie. sum e!1610 miles coming soon hopefully, please leave requests so i know what you guys want to read. also thank u so much for the 140 (i think) likes under my previous post, as its my first ever, it means a lot to me💝💝

As October descended upon Brooklyn, whispers of Halloween's approach filled the air. Your eyes sparkled with anticipation, and you couldn't contain your excitement for the upcoming festivities. But Miles, with a furrowed brow, scoffed at the idea, preferring solitude over celebrations.

Undeterred by Miles' grumpiness, you decided to transform his home into a magical realm of Halloween delight. His mother approved of your brilliant ideas, so the boys' opinion couldn't change anything. Armed with a vivid imagination and an overflowing box of decorations, you set out to infuse the flat with the spirit of the season.

While you took your time adorning his bedroom with ghostly figures, cobwebs, and some pumpkins, your boyfriend observed you from a distance, a skeptical expression etched on his face. Despite his reservations, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of curiosity as your enthusiasm filled the air.

Subsequently, you transformed the living room into a haunted haven. With Rio's help, you strung orange and black streamers, hung paper bats from the ceiling, and carefully arranged a display of glowing jack-o'-lanterns. Miles' grumpiness wavered as he watched your infectious excitement, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

As the evening came, you turned your attention to cute couple Halloween costumes. You spent hours crafting intricate outfits-a brooding vampire for Miles and a whimsical fairy costume for yourself. Miles grumbled about the discomfort of wearing a costume, but deep down, he couldn't deny the sparkle in your eyes, even though he tried to fight it.

"You're trippin, ma." The boy intervened firmly as he shook his head in disbelief. "I am not wearing that, no way." The sharp tone of his voice struck through your heart, slowly breaking it into pieces. You knew he wasn't the type to participate in adorable couple activities, but you didn't understand why couldn't he spend his time with you, at least during such fascinating time.

"Oh come on, Miles, why not?" You pouted, crossing your arms as you looked at him with a disapproving gaze. You were sure of his opinion, but deep down, you still had some hope, that the captivating season could soften his heart, even the tiniest bit. "It's like you don't love me anymore, Miles. You never do anything fun with me, we barely even spend time together. You're always out doing your 'important work', putting off our plans" You snapped at him, with slight wrath audible in your voice

"I get it, you might not be a fan of all those 'cringy' couple activities, but please, can't you enjoy your time with me for once?" You continued, your gaze shifting from his face to his torso. You could notice the confusion on his face, as you weren't the type to talk to him like this. "But alright, if you don't want to, I can just go out with someone else. You have fun here"

Miles made his way up to his bed, sitting down beside you, letting out a sigh, as he entwined his hands with yours. Staring into his eyes, you could see them filling up with agony, clearly hurt after hearing your truthful speech.

"Look, mami. I'm sorry I haven't given you enough time lately, you know, I just cant explain it. I want to keep you safe" Your boyfriend started the same answer you hear every time you would bring up his job. It was different though, he never really genuinely apologized to you. Sure, a quick 'my bad' or 'i'll do better' usually left his mouth, but you've never heard him say 'i'm sorry'. He put his head down as he continued.

"I'm sorry that you feel that way, you know I'm not happy about me canceling our dates either. I can dress up and go trick-or-treating with you, ma. I hate seeing you like this, I'll do better, princessa."

Miles stole a quick kiss on your lips, then on your forehead as he got up from the bed, reaching over to your Halloween costumes. His lips shifted into a soft smile as he felt a wave of warmth strike through his heart.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, you two emerged from his house, you adorned in vibrant fairy costume that shimmered under the moonlight. You fluttered your wings, casting a spell of enchantment that swirled around Miles.

Miles, reluctantly participating, donned a simple costume, a bloodthirsty vampire. Deep down, he couldn't resist your excitement, and a flicker of curiosity ignited within him, as you took the lead.

Hand in hand, you set off into the moonlit streets, where houses were adorned with cobwebs, glowing pumpkins, and haunting decorations. Children, disguised as witches, superheroes, and ghosts, giggled and chattered as they darted from door to door.

You, with your infectious laughter, skipped ahead, your voice like a melody in the night. Miles trailed behind, his grumpy attitude slowly giving way to the passion he hadn't felt in years.

At each house, children eagerly showcased their costumes, their eyes shining with anticipation. Your eyes danced with delight, and your laughter filled the crisp autumn air. Miles, though initially skeptical, found himself chuckling at your excitement, realizing that Halloween held a joy he had long forgotten.

As you continued your journey collecting candy, you arrived at a house unlike any other. It's porch was adorned with shimmering lights, and a melodious tune drifted through the air. You approached, your hand entwined with your boyfriends' and your eyes wide with wonder, and rang the doorbell.

The door creaked open, revealing an elderly man dressed as a magician. With a flourish of his wand, he produced a basket overflowing with candy. As he handed you a treat, he leaned in and whispered, "May the magic of this night bring joy to even the coldest of hearts."

Miles was taken aback by the man's words. Perhaps there was more to Halloween than he had ever realized. A seed of enchantment had been planted within him, sprouting into a newfound appreciation for the night's festivities.

Eager to share this newfound delight, Miles' coldness dissipated like mist in the morning sun. He engaged in playful banter with fellow trick-or-treaters, admiring their costumes and sharing in the joy of the evening.

As the moon reached its zenith, you approached the final house on your route. The porch was transformed into a whimsical wonderland, complete with floating candles and mystical creatures. Your eyes sparkled, and Miles' heart swelled with anticipation.

You knocked on the door, and it swung open to reveal a woman dressed as a fortune teller. Her voice was soft and melodious as she greeted you. Miles exchanged glances with you, feeling as though you had stumbled into a magical realm.

The fortune teller handed you each a small, golden envelope. "Open these when the clock strikes midnight," she whispered, her eyes twinkling with mystery.

With a sense of wonder pulsing through your veins, you and your boyfriend bid the fortune teller farewell. You made your way back home, your pumpkin buckets filled to the brim with sweet treasures.

As the clock neared midnight, you sat on the couch, in the decorated living room. With a hushed countdown, you opened your golden envelopes in unison.

Inside, you discovered handwritten notes, each containing a heartfelt message from the other. Words of love, appreciation, and gratitude spilled from the pages, filling your hearts with warmth.

You and Miles exchanged smiles, your souls intertwined in a magical moment. You realized that the true enchantment of Halloween was not just in the costumes or treats, but in the bonds that were strengthened and the love that was kindled.

As the clock struck midnight, Miles took your hand in his and whispered, "Thank you for showing me the magic of this night, ma. I'm sorry for being so harsh with you and canceling our dates so often. If they are as amazing as this one, it will never happen again." Your eyes shimmered with happiness and you let out a quiet laugh at his words.

Under the moonlit sky, the two of you shared a tender kiss, the magic of the night enveloping you. In that moment, you knew that love, laughter, and the spirit of Halloween would forever illuminate your lives, casting away any shadows of coldness that may try to linger.

#miles morales #miles x reader #prowler miles #prowler miles x reader #prowler!miles #prowler!miles x reader #across the spiderverse #earth 42 miles #earth 42 miles x reader

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blazingstar400 · 2 months

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[Clavell trying to understand everyone better]

Clavell: Tell me about your friend group, Florian.

Florian: If I explain all that we’re gonna be here for a while… where do I even start?

Florian: Hm… well… I guess I can go ahead and start with Carmine. She’s tough, smart, hot-headed, hard to read, and scary as heck sometimes. But I think she’s secretly nice.

[Flashback]

Carmine: Tell me who has me for Secret Santa.

Juliana: What? Noooo! That takes all the fun out of it!

Carmine: *glares daggers at her*

Juliana: It’s me. I got you a scarf. It’s blue and ugly. I can return it if you wan—

Carmine, snatches the gift before she can finish: Well now it’s my blue and ugly scarf! Back off!!

[End of flashback]

Florian: Next I guess is Nemona. She’s hyperactive. Not the most brilliant, but she works harder than anyone else. She doesn’t have the best aim or grip on things though.

[Flashback, Nemona unwraps a muffin, then drops it on the ground.]

Nemona: Awww shoot! My muffin!

[As she picks it up, she smacks her head on the table.]

Nemona: Ow! My head! My muffin and my head!

[End of flashback]

Florian: Penny’s probably the most brilliant when it comes to tech and stuff. She was the Leader of Team Star. Gets underestimated because of her looks, so she’s always trying to prove she’s tough.

[Flashback, Penny puts hot sauce on her sandwich. She looks up to see Florian watching her.]

Penny: You think I can’t handle this much hot sauce? I can handle way more than this. *she empties the hot sauce on her sandwich and takes a bite*

Penny, in agony: In... your... face.

Florian: ...I never said anything…

[End of flashback]

Clavell: What about Arven?

Florian: Arven’s probably like the big brother of our group. And he cooks for all of us. If it weren’t for him we’d probably all eat unhealthy or starve…

[Flashback]

Kieran: *is eating a chocolate bar*

Arven: *quickly snatches it out of his grasp and crushes it*

Kieran, now slightly annoyed: Hey!! I was eating that!!

Arven: Not on my watch!! You have been eating nothing but chocolate and candy for the past few days! Don’t you know how unhealthy that is??

Arven, bringing out a well seasoned salad: Here! This would be a lot better for you to eat!

Kieran: *looks down at the salad with a disgusted/grumpy look*

[End of flashback]

Florian: Kieran is the shy and sweet one in our group but at the same time… he’s also really emo and edgy. Also, I think he’s secretly down bad for Juliana but he’s in complete denial. He’d probably kill me if he figures out I told you so just don’t tell him I said that…

Meanwhile, Kieran is in his room petting Furret but suddenly pauses: Why do I feel like Florian is out there somewhere… telling my deepest, darkest secret?

Clavell: And Juliana?

Florian: Juliana’s the strongest trainer in our group. Also, she’s the one with the purest heart. Loves music, helping others, saving the world, stopping then forgiving bad guys, and solving puzzles. The only puzzle she hasn’t seemed to solved though... is how to grow up.

[Flashback]

Florian: Stay here while I get more supplies for our up coming trip okay?

Juliana, beaming: Don’t worry, Florian! I’m not going anywhere!

Florian, closing his eyes and sighing: You better. This store is like a maze. So just stick close to me so you don’t get lost okay?

Florian: …

Florian: Okay?

Florian: …

Florian, opening his eyes: …Juliana?

[He sees Juliana rushing off in the distance after a butterfly]

Juliana: Heeeey!! Come back here!!

Florian, watching with an unamused look: I should have known…

[End of flashback]

Florian: And finally there’s me. I’m really just a typical average person. Not much to say about me.

Florian:

Florian: Honestly, I feel like I’m the only normal person in my friend group….

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novarowan · 1 year

Text

Sagau draft

This is just a snippet of something that I wrote a couple of months ago, and I just want to know if anybody wants me to write more. I had a lot of fun writing it. Anyway, let me know what you think.

‘Well, isn’t this ironic?’ You think to yourself. You had just been reading SAGAU fanfics, (cause lets be honest, who wouldn’t want to be an ultimate creator god?) and now you find yourself running away from angry NPCs.

You gasped when you felt cold pain on your back. One of the knights had caught up to you and hit you with his sword. Choking from the sudden agony, you felt the adrenaline kick in and ran faster. You were coming up on the top of Starsnatch Cliff, and if only you could just jump into the ocean below, you could get away.

You heard them shout something at the same time that something popped up in your line of sight. You had no time to look at it though, and you couldn’t hear what they said. Your breathing was too loud to hear anything but your lungs working overtime.

There, THERE, THERE.

Without hesitation, you jump. The ocean was fast approaching, and you prayed that you would be able to make it out of this alive. If you entered wrong, it would be like landing on concrete from this height.

Feet first, you dropped into the calm waters.

You broke the surface with a gasp and began swimming to shore, laying on the sand in exhaustion.

“I can’t b-believe that fucking worked.” You let out a short, hysterical giggle before what looked like a black rectangle appeared in the corner of your eye. “What now?” You groaned. Today had been a long day already, and you had only been awake for an hour at most.

When you concentrated on it, it filled your vision.

“Welcome to Teyvat! As the creator of this version of Teyvat, your leveling path will be slightly different to the characters you have come to know. I am your handy assistant, Tutor, who will help you accomplish your ascension.”

“Uh… ok. At this point, I don’t think anything can shock me.” A little red dot appeared at the top of the rectangle, and a little arrow appeared on the right. You lifted your hand and touched it, a new message popping up.

“Quest one: Increase all elemental and physical resistances.”

“Hint: To increase resistances, you must experience the elements.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Your eyes shifted over to a new tab that came into existence after you finished reading. Touching it took you to a screen with a lot of stats.

Max HP: 3,027

ATK: 89

DEF: 94

Elemental Mastery: 0

Max Stamina: 240

A new message popped up on the message screen. You quickly switch back over.

“ +1% Physical Resistance.

Total Physical Resistance: 1%”

You stare in disbelief. You had no idea what you could have done that you give you any sort of resistance. It wasn’t until your wound started to throb that you put the pieces together. “Are you fucking kidding me.”

“I have to literally get attacked with every element to complete this quest?”

“Correct.” The message came through on the screen before disappearing.

“So you can answer my questions.”

“Within reason. That is why I am called Tutor. I am created by the system to help the chosen players.”

“So there are others like me?”

“Correct. There were 1,000 players chosen to take this path.”

“Would you like to see your current talents?”

“Um, yeah. Sure.” A new tab appeared, and you moved over to that screen.

Resurrection: In case of death, Player will resurrect within 24 hours in a safe location.

Blessing of nature: Taking damage will increase resistance to that type of damage permanently.

“There’s only two.”

“Indeed. As you grow and ascend, you will receive more.”

“There is a chest 127 feet to your left that contains a dull blade. Please retrieve it to complete your quest.”

You blink and the screen disappears. You can see a little black dot in the corner of your eye. You quickly figured out that focusing on that dot opened the screen, and looking elsewhere closed it.

“Well, let’s get to it then, shall we?” You couldn’t say that you were necessarily excited about the prospect of intentionally being attacked, but if it helped you out, then it helped, end of story.

In the distance, you could see a little wooden chest. Upon opening, it did contain a sword, along with a couple of miscellaneous items.

“There they are!”

You whipped your head around to see a group of knights and…

“Oh shit.”

The acting grandmaster. Well, you were screwed. Might as well see if Resurrection worked like it was supposed to.

Standing your ground, you watched warily as they approached you. Your back was still hurting you, but you tried not to let it show.

“Imposter.” Jean spoke with authority. “Stand down and come with us peacefully.”

‘I have to get her to attack me.’ You thought and put on an arrogant air.

“And why would I do that, exactly? Have I committed a crime?”

Jean didn’t waver, or show much emotion other than the stern animosity on her face. “You are being charged with the heresy of impersonating our creator.”

“That’s a little bit overplayed, don’t you think?”

You swore that you had read so many SAGAU fics that you could quote every reason they had for killing you before they could say them.

“What?” Jean’s eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.

“I mean, do you really think that it’s my fault that I just so happened to get this exact face? You should blame my parents for being horny and conceiving me.”

Her mouth dropped open is shock and disgust. “Watch what you say, imposter.”

“Hey Jean, guess what?”

She glared at you.

“Your creator must be an insecure little bitch to have you guys kill anyone who looks like them.”

She moved faster than you thought she would. One second she was standing ten feet away. The next second, she was right in front of you, sword glowing teal and murder in her eyes.

‘Oh shit.’

A line of pure anemo energy slashed across your abdomen and chest, painting the sand red and drawing a scream of pain from your lips.

“+1% Anemo Resistance.

Total Anemo Resistance: 1%”

Searing pain unlike anything you had ever before. Distantly, you thought ‘Oh come on. Only one percent?’

“Is that all you got?” You grinned through the pain. She lifted her sword and swiped it across your face. Everything went black. She must have gotten your eyes. “C-come on, Jean. Really go at it.”

Sharp pain in your shoulder and your arm went dead.

“Physical Resistance +1%” “Physical Resistance +1%” “+1% Anemo Resistance. “Physical Resistance +1%” “Physical Resistance +1%” “+1% Anemo Resistance. “Physical Resistance +1%” “Physical Resistance +1%” “Physical Resistance +1%” “+1% Anemo Resistance. “Physical Resistance +1%” “Physical Resistance +1%”

“Total Physical Resistance: 10%”

“Total Anemo Resistance: 4%”

Resurrection activated

23hrs 55secs

………

10secs

You shot up into a sitting position, gasping for air and clawing at your chest. Your eyes darted around you, zeroing in on the weak light pouring into the cave you woke up in. You sighed in relief and flopped back down, accidentally hitting your head on a pebble. “Ow, What the fuck?”

“Geo Resistance +1%

Total Geo Resistance 1%”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You rubbed the back of your head and groaned. The humor of it wasn’t lost on you though, and you let out a giggle. “Hey Tutor?” The message box opened.

“How can I help you, Player?”

“If I sit under a waterfall, will that give me hydro resistance?”

“Yes, the flow of hydro energy would suffice to give you resistance. Note: The rate of resistance gain would be slower than if you were hit with pure hydro energy.”

“Thank you.” The message box disappeared. It was time to find out where you were and what to do next. Crawling from the little cave, you struggled to stand. Your legs were stiff and wobbly. Craggy cliffs and clouds filled your view. “Liyue, huh? I wonder who I’ll pick a fight with next?”

It took about two days to reach Liyue Harbor, but before you entered the city, you checked your screen.

Total Pyro Resistance: 0%

Total Hydro Resistance: 3%

Total Electro Resistance: 0%

Total Cryo Resistance: 0%

Total Dendro Resistance: 1%

Total Geo Resistance: 4%

Total Anemo Resistance: 11%

Total Physical Resistance: 15%

You had obviously run into some monsters on the way to the harbor, and that had increased your resistances. Not much, but at least if you ever ran into Xiao, it would hurt a bit less when he beat the shit out of you. Come to think of it, that seemed like a very likely possibility while being here.

#genshin impact #sagau #sagau villain au #sagau impostor au #genshin jean

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johannestevans · 1 year

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i wanted to write a BIG essay on disability in House MD but the thing is that as it goes on the show plays and delves with the themes a bit differently - like in s1 they begin to introduce some addict stuff but not too much, and much less of the big grapples with house's own medical agency etc by his friends and coworkers

so i think i'm gonna do an essay series, set up some main themes around disability and autonomy in house

the first things will obviously be about the nature of house's own disability, firstly talking about his physical disability - yes, the lack of mobility from his leg and his reliance on his cane, and also the chronic pain that that comes with, but also specifically noting that house became disabled later in life and was previously extremely physically active

while the themes of house being an addict are extremely overstated because of the us' manufactured opioid crisis and its dehumanisation of addicts due to its racist and eugenicist "war on drugs", it's also noteworthy that he used to exercise all day every day on top of fucking and playing with substances on the side. no one minded this because his "addiction" to exercise was fun and sexy and healthy, bc he was making his own pain-killing substances rather than taking a pill

and then also talking about house's mental health issues - evidence of his autism and the way that people hate specifically his autistic traits, even when they're not actually causing them problems, and the way in which house masks and performs certain emotional responses, but more so like. his depression and his loss of identity as a disabled man, and his difficulties being OKAY with his disability when everyone around him hates disability

so apart from that evidence, the points of house grappling with this stuff will be:

house bonding with other disabled patients - in cases of chronic pain, lost physical mobility, and also mental illness and/or neurodivergence

and house specifically understanding disabled people's perspectives, or thinking about the PRACTICAL needs of the person they're treating or engaging with rather than what society cares about or what the hospital thinks is "appropriate" or "proper"

house bullying abled people for being Weird

times where house makes commentary about the injustice of the system (when he points out that the hospital is designed not to treat the poor, chronically sick, etc)

house being anxious and defensive of his own bodily autonomy (eg when ppl are trying to control his pain management or force him into systems that don't work, take over his medical autonomy, in general try to physically control his behaviours)

esp bc season 1 culminates in the stacy episode where we find that like... so much of house's trauma is not just being disabled

but the fact that stacy OVERRODE his desires, waiting for him to be put into a medically induced coma so that she could make "the best" decision for him and literally being the cause of his current disability. esp bc like...

she specifically went for the middle ground that he rejected, she was NOT a doctor

and in so doing she. invented his chronic pain. like there's a reason that in that same episode, we see the volleyball player who gets an amputation and is able to go back to sports - yes, house is a lot older than that volleyball player, but like

if he had either treated the infarction successfully or just got an amputation so that he could later work with a prostheses, house thinks he would have done much better

and so much of his TERROR around trusting others - not just stacy but wilson, cuddy, anybody else - is because of that. the one person he loved and trusted overrode his desires and created the hell he lives in where he's just in constant agony and he hates it, and the worst part is like

everyone tells him it's his fault. no one cares about what stacy did to him, that she manipulated him. every day they tell house how terrible it is that he does that to others, but when it's what happened to him and he lives in hell, it's on him because he's Mean and Too Autistic and he should just Stop Being In Pain etc

god it kills me.

BUT YEAH i think. season by season is gonna be a lot better to track the development of these themes and the way they shift and change from season to season - also idefk if i'll be able to stick with like. the last three seasons bc they just suck so ba dhfskjjgh

BUT WE'LL SEE

#house md #gregory house

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imreadydollparts · 9 months

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Phoebe and the BunchEms

Have you heard of BunchEms? These little plastic balls covered in hooks like Velcro that you stick together to make shapes and stuff?

The first I heard of them was when I came across posts about getting BunchEms out of little kids' hair...

That is horrifying.

Now, I am someone that is Good at detangling and retexturing synthetic doll hair. I saw an American Girl Julie on shopgoodwill.com with BunchEms in her hair and got curious.

Are they really THAT hard to get out of hair, or were the people doing it just not that great at detangling?

I'll spare you the suspense and say that yes, they really are that horrible. I think it would be more humane to just cut the child's hair and let it grow out again rather than make them sit through an attempt at removing The Devil's Dingleberries.

I didn't win the auction for Julie but was talking to my doll friends and said that if I ever happened to find BunchEms and a doll I didn't care about at Goodwill at the same time, I'd grab them so I could experience this hell for myself.

Enter Phoebe.

This is a Battat Our Generation (Target's version of American Girl) Phoebe. You can't really see her before-hair well, but it wasn't in too bad of condition. It was matted in a couple spots, very dirty, and had grass stuck in it.

I do wish I'd cleaned and detangled her before I did this. The dirtiness had everyone in the house sneezing.

But wow was that exciting. I enjoyed being the destroyer instead of the fixer for once. That was fun.

Removing them again was not. That was the opposite of fun.

It took me about a month because I had to stop for a medical emergency and was only able to work on her again last week. Since I'm going through a series of surgeries I've had a lot of non-productive time. I just finished her hair up today.

The BunchEms were very difficult to remove. It took a lot of careful, slow, agonizing combing and brushing, picking and pulling, some ripping and tearing, to get the hair free from each little ball's many, multidirectional teeth.

What's worse is that as I would work on the balls nearer the ends of her hair, the ones closer to her face got tighter and tighter into her hairline.

They were pushing against her skin at this point.

I'd get some hair free, put it to the side, and discover it had reattached to different BunchEms on that side.

It was tedious. If Phoebe were a real girl, she'd be in agony from all of the pulling and combing and how tightly the BunchEms were pulling up into her hair.

I did eventually get them all out again. She lost a ton of hair. Battat OG dolls are rooted with the locked loop method, which means that if ONE loop pulls free, then they can all pull free in sequence. A lot of her hair loss was full plugs coming out of her scalp, and a lot of it was breakage. The hair that was left was a mess.

It wasn't tangled at all and was rather soft, though. I guess if you were desperate, a BunchEming could help emulate the texture of 4c hair? There has to be a better way to give a doll 4c hair than this self-torture, though.

A good bath, shampooing, three conditionings, and straightenings later and...

I had to cut out a few inches (I am bad at cutting shh), and her hair still has a lot more texture than it's supposed to.

I do not ever want to do that again.

She's going back to Goodwill to see if someone else wants to adopt her, and the BunchEms are going in the trash because they're full of doll hair and that's kind of gross.

#bunchems #doll hair #doll repair #our generation #our generation dolls

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pizzaboat · 25 days

Text

Might as well make a list of fun (sad/horrific) things to explore. Headcanons for the motivation I have to write with. Like a reminder list.

TW I suppose

Eda has C-PTSD from all the shit that's happened to her, and maybe BPD too

She still struggles with depression after the show. Her life just doesn't suck half as bad anymore

Massive SI pre-ending that got worse in the time skip

All she has is nightmares, she doesn't dream (that's basically canon)

She's always tired and fluctuates between insomnia and extreme exhaustion that makes it hard to keep her eyes open.

She has had so many panic attacks. Eda is pretty prone to them. She's actually quite an anxious person

What Gwen did for all those years was abuse. Like, emotionally that would fuck anyone up. Same with Lilith

Eda forgives easily in perspective to the crime done to her because she's terrified of being alone. She doesn't see anyone putting in the work to actually make things right with her and stay with her because she's so "difficult to love" so she leaves the door open to her heart constantly

Having detachable limbs has saved her from her mother's "cures" more than once

She's had so many horrible exs, and she chose to date some of them to feel something other than alone and numb. Eda thought she really deserved it with some of them

Eda has spent so long not crying or getting angry when she really wants to, so when she can cry or be angry, it surprises her

She's touch starved and gets separation anxiety from her family now

Eda doesn't feel pain the same anymore. Her threshold is so high that she could break a rib or have internal bleeding and not notice. Really not notice. That's not a curse thing, that's her body adapting to agony for decades

She flinches at loud noises behind her. She flinches during arguments with people. She's on the offence so she doesn't have to be on the defence and Raine points that last bit out to her because they're determined to show her she's safe with them

Eda will start crying over something and not be able to stop. She's super emotionally disregulated

Eda can't sleep for the longest time after the events of the show without being held. Doesn't matter who. She has to hold or be held and not be alone.

Raine spends a lot of nights spooning and doing protective cuddles because Eda falls asleep the fastest that way, and they're worried about her sleeping

Making money was hard at multiple points in her life, even with the door, so she was used to skipping meals to let King, and then Luz, eat and she doesn't see anything wrong with skipping multiple meals in a row. Raine, Lilith, everyone is so concerned, and Raine has to insist that she's maybe making the curse worse this way from the stress of starvation

Raine gently pulls Eda aside to talk about what she tried to do in the woods that day and they check to see if she still feels the same and Eda starts crying. Not because she is, but because she's overwhelmed

Eda always feels overwhelmed

#the owl house #toh #eda clawthorne #toh eda #edalyn clawthorne

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theoraclesystem · 3 months

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I would really appreciate people stop fakeclaiming systems just because they have a TikTok and once again spreading the misinformation that DID is "incredibly rare" and systems do not devote their time to making TikToks.

While sure, there are likely many fakers, it isn't right to just fakeclaim people you have never personally met and know nothing about other than the 15 second video they record.

Systems make TikToks to cope, because they are bored, or to spread awareness. We made them quite often about a year ago to cope, and while we do it a lot less now, we do it because we can and because they are still a coping thing - though we are a lot more hesitant to make TikToks because we do not want to end up on those cringe "faking disorders" YouTube channels (ABLAZE, I am looking at you).

DID is not always sunshine and rainbows, it is so, so far from it. Though we can still have moments where we can just... be. Where we are not stuck in traumatic memories and revolted with the idea that we exist and are alive.

Why can we not have fun just like anyone else and make TikToks? Why do we have to constantly be suffering and in agony for you to believe we are real?

DID is not as rare as you think, either. It is not less than 1% of the world's population, it is 2-3% of those that are DIAGNOSED. Many people go their entire life without being diagnosed, so there are more. 2-3% is the same number of red heads in the world, and about 140 MILLION people, and those are just the diagnosed people. There are many more.

Are you going to say I - a natural red head - am faking being a red head because it is "too rare"? No, that is preposterous.

And systems can be aware of one another through therapy and trauma work. lt is ridiculous to say it is impossible to know you are a system or being aware of your alters.

Please just shut up.

- 🧿

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rxqueenxgirl · 1 year

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HOW IS YOUR LIFE GOING TO BE IN 10 YEARS ? ♡

if you want a reading more in depth you can massage me on private or you can know more about my paid readings here!

take a deep breath and pick a pile!

pile 1:

in 10 years you'll accomplish a lot of knowledge. Your life will be stable and you'll know how to properly balance it. Your obstacle will be your financial freedom and the first steps to become independent. In this process you'll overcome some roots from relashionships in your life, what once was so traditional suddenly doesn't feel right to the new person you're becoming, it doesn't includes a big harm, just a brutal change in the way you saw them.

In your path, the positivity comes from realization. You worked and studied a lot, went through hard phases and all you have are reasons to be proud of yourself. Nonetheless, the people you'll meet are the source of negativity. Your workfield or friend circle makes a significant part of your life, you'll be trapped for the fact you all work for something bigger than you. They will demand too much, they will feel jealous, they will use their time on bad energies. Be careful.

pile 2:

In 10 years your life will be chaotic, like a battlefield with angels and demons. Something (maybe a big tragedy) will change the way you see the world around you, you'll see all the things that had been hidden from you. At first, you'll hit your lowest point, but you'll soon realize it was necessary to open your eyes and you will have a new purpose. You become a little too ambitious due to your rebellion, that can have a moral or religious meaning behind. You feel free, but don't set limits on danger and start to think that everything that was prohibited before is a blessing when it can actually be dangerous.

But you are finally free. You'll look back and have many regrets, but never of what you became. Maybe you'd be a little less inconsequential if you had the chance, but you'll see it was so liberating at the time you wouldn't think like that.

pile 3:

In 10 years your life will be very dynamic, full of extreme choices, some might take you to riches and fun stories, but with danger in the corner. Gladly, you'll overcome the excess and materialism brought by the start of that adventure. You'll dive deeper into a relationship, you love your romantic interest and submit yourself for them, this is where the bad things in your life will come from. You'll feel more mature and more flourished, but all along you're just in a tiring position you can't get out of for the sake of "something bigger", which is just something to keep you impotent.

There is prosperity on your way, but no freedom. You reap the fruits of happiness, but not the quantity you really deserve.

pile 4:

in 10 years you'll find a new love, something or someone that overflows your feelings. At first, there's so much excitement you just turn blind to everything around you, but you'll have to learn how to put that emotion in its place so you can grow better and look at things objectively. You'll turn insecure, full of jealousy, resentment and anger, but at the same time you're still aware of the world's wonders waiting for you.

You sacrificed many things to mature at once, and you might regret it sometimes. Life had to open your eyes in the worst ways, it brings you a new agony that you weren't aware you could even feel. You'll grow up out of the pain of a broken heart.

#tarot community #tarot reading #spiritual community #pick a card #pick a pile #free tarot reading #tarot #10 years #in 10 years #tarotblr #paid tarot readings

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raepritewrites · 3 months

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If Heather were ever to write a memoir about being a superhero, she was going to include an entire chapter about what to do when you get sucked into a portal, because it was a surprisingly frequent hazard of the job and was confusing as hell if you didn't know what you were doing.

Fortunately, she’d been through this song and dance a few times, so she started with gathering the basics. Who, what, where, how, and when?

First, who? Some c-lister villain who called himself Vibe. The team had been working on a case of break-ins where banks would be robbed through some sort of portal technology. In and out, easy as pie, with almost no trace left behind. The guy was slick she could give him that.

Nightwing had theorized the guy might have a teleport ray, judging by the tachyon readings they were getting. Further investigation, however, and a quick conversation with Flash had revealed that Vibe was a meta created from the particle accelerator explosion of Central City, which had given the speedster his own powers. It hadn't been too hard to track the guy down from there.

Second, what? Well, bad guy plus warehouse equals superhero fight. It had just been Nightwing, Superboy, and herself who went to track down and capture the meta. The rest of the squads had all been busy on other assignments, and really, how hard could it be to take this guy down with three of their heavy hitters on it?

Apparently, harder than they'd thought.

Vibe, it seemed, was just as slick at evading capture as burglary. The idea had been for Nightwing and Scarlet Spider to wear the guy out and keep him distracted until Superboy could get in a final hit. It had briefly worked, and then everything went wrong.

Scarlet probably shouldn't have antagonized Vibe so much, but it was fun winding bad guys up. She and Nightwing had come up with some good lines as they danced around the teleporter. She had so much experience fighting alongside Nightcrawler that she assumed she could guess this guy's next move without any trouble. He would zig, she would zag. She'd been... a little too confident. Her spider sense had warned her of the danger as she swung towards Vibe for one more kick to the gut, but her momentum had been too strong, and there was no avoiding the inevitable.

Vibe had realized the game they'd been playing with him and grabbed Superboy as he'd tried to sneak up from behind, flinging him over his shoulder and into her. They'd crashed into Nightwing in a pile of tangled limbs and curses.

By the time Scarlet Spider looked up, Vibe had a new portal open behind him. "As fun as this has been, I'll be taking my leave now. This earth has always been a little too hero-happy for my tastes," the man smirked and saluted them, stepping backwards into the swirl of blue and white light.

If Heather had a nickle for every time she made a very stupid last-minute decision, she and Bruce Wayne would be in the same tax bracket. This was just another five cents in her fictional bank account. She sent a webline to the ceiling, propelling her up and off of her teammates and into the portal, which promptly closed behind her.

Third question, where?

On the other side of the portal, it dawned on Heather very quickly how stupid she was as she found herself free-falling. High-rises and skyscrapers rushed past her in a blur as she struggled to orient herself.

Some part of her brain that sounded a lot like her step-father screamed at her to throw a webline, and after two desperate attempts failed to land on anything, her third try caught a gargoyle. Her arm wrenched in its socket from the abrupt change in trajectory, and she gritted her teeth to stifle the howl of agony that crawled up her throat. She looked around desperately and spotted a rooftop not far away that she could reach.

Her landing was less than ideal, tumbling head over heels before rolling to a painful stop on the tarmac. She lay for a moment to let the panic subside, panting heavily from the spasms radiating from her arm and down her torso. She stared up at a smog filled night sky and the glowing neon sign of an office building as her brain rebooted.

Once she could hear more than just her own heartbeat thundering in her ears, she took stock of her situation. While she'd torn a few muscles in her arm, the damage was minimal compared to being a smear on the sidewalk. She'd twisted her ankle when she'd landed, and it throbbed in a familiar way - not broken, but definitely sprained. Everything else seemed negligible; cuts, scrapes, and general bruises. She would deal.

She sat up slowly and frowned at the office building's sign, declaring it to be one of Wayne Enterprises' headquarters. Why Vibe had thought running to Gotham was a good idea was anyone's guess.

She checked her comm, but only received static in reply, no matter what frequency she tried. Maybe it had been damaged in the fall? Her phone worked, but had no signal at all, not even wifi. That was strange; WE had public wifi available at all there buildings. She needed to reach the team somehow to let them know her status, and that despite her best (very stupid) efforts their suspect was in the wind. She wasn't sure where the closest zeta beam was from here, but maybe she could reach Nightwing a different way.

Did Heather feel bad breaking into the department store? Yes, a little, but desperate times and all that.

She'd grabbed a pair of jeans, a belt (because of course the jeans didn't fit right, but she didn't have the luxury of time on her side to find a pair that did), and an oversized sweatshirt. She dropped a pre-paid credit card on the counter with the tags of the items she was stealing, hoping the owners wouldn't be too mad at her. She then made triple sure that all the cameras she'd covered in webbing were still technically functional -just ineffective for a few hours - and grabbed a shopping bag from the register to stuff her gear into it.

Outside the store, it had begun raining, because this was Gotham and she had Parker luck. It was only natural. After trudging through the rain for a few blocks, Heather finally hailed a cab in a more populated part of the city. The clock on the dash of the taxi read a little after four am, and the driver looked like he wasn't thrilled to have found a customer.

"I need to get to Bristol," Heather told him, trying to be short but polite.

The cabby raised an eyebrow at her, blowing smoke from his cigarette out his cracked window. "That's going to cost you, lady," he told her flatly. "If you hadn't noticed, this is the Diamond District, that's a long drive."

"If you can get me there quickly, I'll pay you double the fare in tip," Heather promised.

Both eyebrows went up at that. "You're the boss," he shrugged and pulled away from the curb.

Once they reached Bristol, Heather had the cab drop her off at the Drake Estate, a few miles from Wayne Manor. She didn't think the cab driver really cared about where this woman in ill-fitting clothes was going at the crack of dawn out in the most expensive neighborhood in Gotham. But just in case someone asked him about it later, she didn't want him saying he'd dropped the weird woman off at Brucie Wayne's mansion. Never could be too careful.

True to her word, Heather had tipped extra generously, and the cab had taken off as soon as she was out of the backseat.

She glanced down the Drake's long driveway to where their modern estate could be seen peaking out between the tall trees and frowned distastefully. Shaking off her feelings towards Tim's parents, she settled into a fast walk and headed towards Wayne Mansion in the thinning rain.

By the time she reached the front gates, the rain was just mist that was slowly being burned off by the morning sun, and she was soaked to the bone. Wiping water off her face, she buzzed the intercom and hoped Alfred wouldn't be mad at her for the early morning call.

"Wayne Residence, may I help you?" His British accent came through the intercom sounding slightly tinny.

"Good morning, I need to speak to Dick Grayson or Bruce Wayne. It's Heather Reilly."

There was a long pause, too long. "Do you have an appointment?"

Heather frowned. "No, not exactly. Listen, I know it's early, but I really need to talk to Dick or Mr. Wayne."

"Master Wayne is a very busy man, young lady," Alfred began, in a clearly dismissive voice.

"Wait, please! It's..." she frowned harder, brow furrowing as an uneasy feeling filled her gut. "It's Heather, Mr. Pennysworth. You know, Heather? Dick's friend? We've... I mean, don't you know who I am?"

"I'm afraid your name is not familiar to me, and young Master Dick no longer resides here at the manor. Good day, young lady." The intercom clicked off and Heather stood blinking at it for several seconds.

"What the actual fuck?" She finally muttered.

Alfred Pennyworth did not know who she was. He had dismissed her with the same polite but frosty way she'd seen him dismiss hopeful gold diggers who hung off of Bruce at parties. As her brain processed this information, something else occurred to her as well.

Vibe. He had said something just before he disappeared. That their earth was too hero-happy. Their earth. As if there was more than one.

"Well, shit," Heather sighed sharply, rubbing at a pounding headache that was beginning to build behind her eyes.

Apparently, Vibe wasn't just a teleporter like her fiance, and perhaps their assessment of him as a c-lister villain was a bit hasty. Because apparently the sucker could warp not just around the world, but also apparently around the freaking multiverse?! And Heather, dumbass extraordinaire, had followed him to a parallel universe. Which meant that the only way she was ever going to get home was to find the bastard again, and there was no way she'd be able to do that on her own.

Fourth question, how?

Heather felt significantly more guilty sneaking onto the Wayne Manor estate than she had breaking into the department store.

She hoped that her Dick and Bruce - if she ever saw them again - would understand that she hadn't meant to memorize the defenses around the estate. Really, it was more Bruce's fault than hers.

She'd spent so much time working for the man, digging through the batcomputer's files and doing the menial grunt work to help hone her skills, that of course at some point she'd gotten bored and started studying the layout of the grounds and where all the motion detectors were hidden. She was only human... well, kind of. Sort of. Not important right now.

She didn't know for certain that this version of Bruce Wayne would use the same layout for his home's defenses. Hell, she wasn't even certain that this version had even become Batman. Maybe the man actually was a clueless socialite in this universe. But Heather had a gut feeling that she couldn't shake.

Like, sure, maybe there were universes out there where that was true. But... could there really be a universe where Bruce Wayne had never become Batman, and yet he'd still taken in Dick, who then would coincidentally also have a falling out with the man and move to Bludhaven? The whole reason her Dick had moved to that awful city was to establish himself as Nightwing.

Heather knew she was holding onto a thin string of hope here. But if she was wrong, she might never make it back home, and that possibility was too terrifying to even consider.

Her universe had found multiple ways to kick her in the teeth and drag her down, over and over again. Yet, that universe was her home, and she was still standing. She'd gotten back up each time with the help of her family and friends. She would figure this out, and she would come home to them.

There wasn't an option for failure.

By the time she was standing in front of the massive doors of the manor, her shoulder and ankle were starting to throb in time with her heartbeat. The sun had burned off the remaining rain and she estimated it was closer to six or seven am now. Despite knowing she looked like a drowned rat, Heather attempted to have some dignity as she straightened her clothes, pushed back her slick hair, and reached up to knock.

"I'll get it, Alfred," She heard a young male voice on the other side of the door, and she had just enough time to think Tim when a seventeen year old boy with dark hair opened the door.

Heather blinked. This... was not her Tim. Her Tim was still thirteen and only recently reached her shoulder in height. Yet, the haircut, the blue eyes, the sharp features, all of it definitely screamed Tim Drake.

The boy frowned at her. "Can I help you?"

"Uh," Heather floundered for a second, unsure. She hadn't anticipated speaking to anyone other than Alfred, Dick or Bruce. "Yeah, I'm sorry. It's um, it's been a rough night. My name is Heather Reilly. You're Tim, right? I'm a friend of Dick Grayson's, and I really need his help."

"You again?" Alfred was suddenly behind Tim, wearing the most severe frown she'd ever seen on the man.

It immediately made her step back a half pace and her shoulders hunch. No one, not even her own parents, could make Heather feel like a small naughty child the way Mr. Pennyworth could. There was a reason even Batman deferred to him. "I was quite firm young lady. How did you manage to get past the front gate?"

Translation: How did you avoid all of Batman's security? Heather thought, but of course they wouldn't know that she knew about any of that.

"Please, Mr. Pennyworth, if you just let me explain the situation," Heather began, trying not to wither under his stony stare.

"How do you know Dick?" Tim interrupted. He looked just as suspicious as Alfred, but there was something else in his stare, curiosity or something like it. Tim, like Bruce, was a detective and Heather could tell she'd piqued his interest.

"Dick and I are old friends," She said quickly, latching onto Tim's interest like a lifeline. "We met when we were teenagers. We, uh, had a lot in common. Listen, if Dick isn't here could I at least use your phone? I lost mine, and if I can't talk to Dick, then I need to try and call another friend."

"Are you in trouble?" Alfred asked, looking a modicum less severe than before.

"Very much so, sir,'' Heather nodded, shifting her weight only to wince as she placed too much onto her bad ankle. "Shit," she hissed, unable to keep the curse in.

"What happened?" Tim asked, opening the door wider.

"I... fell," She said lamely, scratching the back of her neck. How could she explain that it was from a height of several stories? Oh, right, she couldn't. "Twisted my ankle. It's fine, I'm a fast healer."

Tim and Alfred exchanged a long look, and only years of working with the bats helped her parse out its full meaning. They didn't trust her, clearly. They thought she might even be lying, but they weren't going to leave someone soaking wet and obviously injured outside on their doorstep.

Alfred hummed, still displeased, "You may use the phone in the library, follow me. Master Tim, would you please bring me the first aid kit?"

"Sure, Alfie," Tim sent one more scrutinizing stare her way before disappearing into what she knew was a supply closet.

She followed the butler into the library, wincing as she dripped rainwater onto the expensive rugs. He led her to an antique secretary desk with a rotary phone on it, because apparently in every universe Bruce Wayne was that kind of old money rich, and insisted she sit down on the oak desk chair. Tim reappeared shortly, carrying both a first aid kit and a towel, the latter of which Heather took gratefully as she sat her plastic bag full of gear onto the floor.

Heather carefully squeezed water out of her hair, mindful of her shoulder as Alfred looked through the kit. "If you would remove your boot, Miss Reilly, I will check your ankle."

"Oh, I mean, you don't have to-" Heather began, the towel now draped over her shoulders.

"I insist," Alfred said firmly but not unkindly.

"You might as well let him look," Tim said with a chuckle. He was leaning against one of the many floor to ceiling bookcases. "He won't take no for an answer."

"Right, I knew that," Heather muttered, shaking her head. She missed the puzzled frowns Tim and Alfred shared as she reached down and started unlacing her combat boots.

Spider-Man and her father preferred their costumes with matching boots and gloves, the web design visible from top to bottom. But she'd long ago chosen steel toed black boots and fingerless black leather gloves for herself. She liked that it made the uniform her own, along with a modified version of her father's blue hoodie - cropped, slightly darker in hue, and made of a resilient Kevlar. The Scarlet Spider silhouette was still recognizable as the one Ben Reilly once wore, but she'd made it hers, and she knew her dad would have approved.

She got the boot off and peeled off her wet sock, hissing as the fabric stuck around the swollen ankle joint before finally coming free. Of course, it was the ankle she'd broken previously, that was just her luck.

"Okay, it's a little worse than I thought," she admitted quietly as Alfred examined the injury.

"You seemed pretty confident it was just a sprain," Tim observed casually.

Bruce hasn't taught him all his tricks yet, Heather thought as she considered how to answer Tim's obviously prying question. "Not the first time," she said as she watched Alfred pull out a roll of bandages. "I'm clumsy."

Before Tim could form his next question, a voice called out, "Drake? Pennyworth?" This was followed shortly by a boy, maybe fourteen years old, coming into the library. He was also dark haired, but much tanner than Tim and his eyes were brown. There was something oddly familiar about the kid that Heather couldn't put her finger on.

"Who is this?" The boy demanded.

"Manners, Master Damian," Alfred chided him as he finished wrapping Heather's ankle. "It's best you remove your other boot as well, Miss, to give them a chance to dry out."

Heather nodded, "right, thank you, Mr. Pennyworth."

"Damian, this is Heather. She says she's a friend of Dick's," Tim explained.

"Richard has never mentioned you," Damian said, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. He spoke with the slightest accent, something Middle Eastern that Heather couldn't pin down, and the more she looked at his face the more she was sure she knew him from somewhere.

"We're, uh, very old friends," Heather explained awkwardly. "We haven't seen each other in a long time." Or ever, in this universe's case.

"Tt," Damian scoffed, sharing glances with Alfred and Tim. He wasn't even attempting to hide how suspicious he thought she was. It was sort of refreshing. "Richard isn't home. He's running errands with Father."

Now Heather was narrowing her eyes, her head tilting to the side as a memory came to her. Of a painting that hung in her universe's version of Wayne Manor featuring Thomas and Martha Wayne posing with their young son. Bruce was solemn, even as a child, and Damian had the same set to his jaw.

"Oh my god," she breathed as it clicked, suddenly standing as she pointed at the boy. "You're Bruce's kid. Like, his bio kid, aren't you?"

The others gave her various confused reactions. Alfred raised one eyebrow, Tim frowned, and Damian crossed his arms haughtily.

"Of course, I am," the younger boy snapped, like he thought Heather was an idiot. Which was fair. She kind of was most days, even she could admit that. "How do you not know who I am?"

"I -" She dropped her arm and rubbed her neck. "Right, yeah, that's an excellent question." She sighed. "Okay, truthfully? I am friends with Dick, but... not your Dick?" They frowned at her, and she couldn't blame them.

"Look, I'm going to level with you. I'm not from this universe. I work with Dick on my earth with a team of heroes. We were fighting this guy - Vibe? I did something monumentally stupid, and I ended up here. I didn't realize until I was already talking with Alfred that I was even in the wrong universe because my Alfred has known me for years. I worked with Batman for a while when I was a teenager, back when Dick was still Robin, and-"

"What are you talking about?" Tim interrupted her nervous ramblings. "Why do you think we know anything about Batman?" He added angrily. Damian looked ready to commit murder, and Alfred had disappeared at some point.

Heather groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Look, let's just cut past the song and dance, okay? I know all about Bruce, I have for years. In my universe, he gave me almost full access to the batcomputer's files. I trained with Robin in the batcave. I know about the entrance behind the grandfather clock in Bruce's study-"

Heather realized a few beats too late that was probably not the best way to break the news.

Damian was suddenly in her face with a knife at her throat pulled from seemingly nowhere. She reacted instinctively, grabbing the boy's wrist, twisting it down until he dropped the dagger. She pushed him into Tim, who'd been pulling out his collapsible bo staff. She'd turned with the intention of escaping through the library's other exit, but only made it a few strides when the sound of a shotgun being loaded stopped her dead in her tracks.

Right, that would be Alfred, she thought numbly, lifting her hands up as high as her injured shoulder would allow before dropping to her knees.

"Do not move," Alfred ordered.

"Yes, sir," she said.

"How did you disarm me so easily?" Damian demanded, stomping around to glare at her.

Heather gave him a small smile, which only made him angrier. "You remind me of my sister," she said instead of answering.

"I don't know what your game is," Tim told her, "but we're not playing. What do want with Dick?"

"First, poor word choice," Heather smirked at him over her shoulder. He glared back at her flatly, and she rolled her eyes. "My Tim has a much better sense of humor. I already told you exactly why I'm here. I'm in the wrong universe, and I need Batman and Nightwing to help me get home."

"Why do you keep insisting my father is the Batman?" Damian asked.

Heather sighed. "Look, we could keep going around and around on this all day, but I don't have that kind of time. Either call up Dick and Bruce so we can discuss this like adults, or-"

"Or what?" Alfred asked, suddenly reminding her there was a very protective butler with a gun pointed at her.

Heather pursed her lips, considering. "Why don't you take me down to the cave? You guys probably have a holding cell like my Batman does. You can keep me under lock and key until I can convince you I'm telling the truth, or until you can get someone from the League to come down who can wipe my memory if I can't."

"Or we could take you to Arkham Aslyum now," Damian suggested.

Heather took a deep breath, trying to be patient. Not like it could hold me. "It's up to you," she finally said.

Damian walked behind her so the three could share a whispered conference. Heather tried very hard not to hear them by humming under her breath, but it was a lost cause. Damian was coming up with some very creative forms of interrogation tactics, but was ultimately overruled by Tim and Alfred.

"Alright, let's go," Tim finally sighed. "Hands behind your back, and just keep in mind Alfred is a very good shot." She saw him pulling a pair of handcuffs from the corner of her eye.

"You're going to want to use something stronger than that," she told them mildly as Tim grabbed her wrists and yanked them behind her back. Tim hesitated for a moment, before Damian handed him something she couldn't see. She bit back a hiss of pain as they used what felt like metal cording from a grappel gun to bind her hands, then used the remaining cord to wrap around her arms and chest.

Better, she thought as Tim and Damian pulled her to her feet, but still not enough. Ah well, I'll let them have this one.

They blindfolded her before taking her to the batcave, maybe so they could still have plausible deniability. Heather let the boys lead her to the elevator, her spider-sense keeping her aware of Alfred's shotgun aimed at her chest. When the elevator stopped, her bare feet were treading the rock of the cave's floor as the boys prodded her along, her injured ankle really resenting the cold seeping into her bones. She couldn't surpress a small shiver, suddenly aware of her still soaking wet stolen clothes that were clinging to her.

"Relax, we're not going to hurt you," Tim murmured, misinterpreting her shudder.

"Unless you give us a reason too," Damian added, less meanly than he could have.

Huh, maybe the kid wasn't as blood thirsty as he seemed. I wonder who his mom is? I don't think it's Selina. He doesn't look anything like her. Heather pondered this little mystery until she heard a metal cage door opening and she was gently pushed inside the holding cell. Someone pulled off the blindfold before they locked her in. She blinked her eyes to help them adjust to the new lighting, taking in the somewhat familiar landscape around her.

"Good to know the giant penny and t-rex are consistent in every universe," Heather observed. "Still ridiculous, but consistent."

"Master Bruce and Master Dick are on their way," Alfred said, lowering the gun slightly but not putting it away.

Heather nodded. "I figured. So... bio kid, huh?" She added, conversationally.

Damian narrowed his eyes at her, but didn't reply.

"I totally see it now," Heather admitted, taking a seat on the cot in the cage. She brought her legs up to fold beneath her, trying to get comfortable. "I thought at first that Bruce's adoption habit was worse in this universe."

"What makes you think I'm adopted?" Tim asked, taking a seat on a stool he'd brought over.

Heather blinked in surprise. "Oh, my mistake, sorry. My Tim Drake is, so I guess I assumed."

"What happened to your Tim's parents?" Tim frowned, but there was something in his expression that Heather couldn't read.

Heather pursed her lips, considering how to explain. "They were very neglectful. At first, Bruce just had emergency custody of Tim while the state investigated why he was being left alone for long periods of time with only a maid checking on him. When they realized how shitty the Drakes were, that's when he put in the paperwork."

"So they're... still alive?" Tim asked in a much quieter voice.

Heather's heart stuttered painfully. "Oh... I'm so sorry."

Tim shook his head. "Not your fault," he said it like it was something he told people a lot, which only made Heather feel worse.

"I really am sorry. This world is so different from my own," Heather said, mostly to keep the conversation moving. She'd always hated awkward silence. "My Tim is younger, and I've never even met him before." She tilted her head towards Damian. "I mean, he might exist on my earth. Who's your mom?"

Damian tutted again, which she was beginning to suspect was a habit. "Not that its any of your business, but my mother's name is Talia Al Ghul."

Heather blinked and sat forward. "I'm sorry - the daughter of the Demon's Head is your mom? One of the most dangerous women in the world, and the next leader of the League of Assasins?"

Damian gave her a haughty nod. "I see my mother's reputation precedes her even in another universe."

"Okay, mental note," Heather muttered. "Interrogate Bruce when I get home to make sure he actually knows how condoms work."

Tim let out an involuntary snort and Damian's pride disappated back into disdain as he muttered something in Arabic that she was sure was unflattering.

"Alrighty, anyway," She sighed. "I'm assuming you have questions you want me to answer?"

"I am not sure what we could ask you that could prove your worthiness," Damian snapped. "You are a stranger to us."

Tim nodded reluctantly. "I've never heard Dick mention anyone like you." He picked up the plastic bag they must have brought from upstairs that had her gear in it, pulling out her mask and frowning at it. "What's with the spider webs?"

"On my earth, I'm called the Scarlet Spider," Heather explained, waiting for any hint of recognition on his face, but nothing came. "You know, ally of Spider-Man? Friend of the Avengers?"

"Who?" Damian asked.

"Whoa, okay, I didn't think our earths were that different," Heather shook her head. "Wait, if Spider-Man and the Avengers don't exist in this world, does the Justice League exist?"

"Of course," Tim and Damian answered almost in unison, then glared at each other in annoyance.

"That's a relief. So the team must exist too," Heather said, only to receive another frown.

"You mean the Teen Titans?" Tim clarified.

"No...? I mean the team. We work for the Justice League? But, like, covertly. We handle missions that the League doesn't want a lot of attention on, but that still needs a lot of skill." Heather explained, "There's me, Nightwing, Superboy, Miss Martian, Robin, Batgirl, Bumblebee, Beast Boy-"

"I only recognize some of those names," Tim admitted.

"Weird," Heather muttered.

"This is a waste of time," Damian exclaimed, "She's clearly lying, Drake, we should take care of her before she can reveal our identities to anyone."

"Let's pump the breaks on the murder, alright Shortstack?" Heather couldn't help but snap. "Does your Batman actually kill? Because that's seriously messed up."

"He does not," Alfred confirmed, giving Damian a reprimanding glare.

Damian rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, muttering to himself. Tim and Alfred couldn't hear it, but Heather could perfectly. "This never would happen with Mother and Grandfather."

Tim's phone suddenly chimed at the same moment Heather heard tires crunching on the gravel outside the manor. "I'm guessing Bruce is here?" She asked Tim as he checked his phone.

"How did you-?"

"Lucky guess," Heather deflected.

Alfred finally lowered his gun and left, presumably to meet his employer and pseudo son at the door. Damian seemed to take this as an invitation to take out another dagger from some pocket and begin fiddling with it. Heather guessed this was his way of intimidating her, or it could have been a nervous habit. She didn't have the heart to tell him it was more cute than anything else.

The kid looked like he'd barely hit puberty. He reminded her of her own little brother and sister, which just made her homesick. She wanted to pull her phone out, just so she could see her photos and reassure herself that they were still out there, waiting for her, but she stopped herself from snapping her restraints. She needed this world's Batman to trust her, or she'd never get home.

"I'm assuming you're a meta human?" Tim asked her after he finished sending another text. He put his phone in his pocket so he could focus his attention on her fully.

"In a sense," Heather said reluctantly. "It's complicated."

"I have a friend who's the daughter of a demon, try me," Tim challenged.

"It's not that I'm refusing to answer the question, it's just seriously complicated," She explained. "Does this world have stable cloning technology?"

"Are you somebody's clone?"

"No- well, yes and no," She shook her head when he gave her an exasperated sigh. "Complicated! Ugh, okay, so my story starts way before I was born. On my earth there's a hero called Spider-Man. He was a regular guy who was bitten by a radioactive spider, giving him super powers."

"Usually when someone has a backstory like that, they turn to a life of crime, at least in my experience," Tim commented.

"Yeah, well, he didn't. I mean, he used his powers to win money in wrestling matches at first," Heather admitted, rolling her eyes. "He was young and dumb, don't worry about it - not important. The important thing is years later, Spider-Man gets a new rogue who called himself Jackal. The guy was crazy, but brilliant."

"We are familiar with the type," Damian commented quietly.

Heather snorted. "Trust me, I know, but unfortunately he was way less Nygma and his puzzles, and more like Crane with unethical experimentation. The guy manages to clone Spider-Man, except - plot twist - Spider-Man suddenly has a case of amnesia and he and the clone can't remember which of them is the real deal."

Tim whistled, "complicated."

"Oh trust me, tip of the iceberg," Heather complained, shaking her head. "I'll skip forward, or we'll be here for hours. The clone, he went by the name Scarlet Spider, eventually comes to a truce with Spider-Man and they become allies. In the meantime, Scarlet Spider and the woman who was once Spider-Man's fiance fall in love. Eventually, they have a kid." She shrugged as much as her restraints allowed her to.

"That was you," Damian guessed.

"Yep," Heather nodded. "Again, I'm going to skip forward for brevity's sake. I developed powers as I aged, but then suddenly one day my body freaks the fuck out. My DNA wasn't completely stable, being half human and half - er, clone slash radioactive meta slash freak lab accident." She sighed. Sometimes she couldn't believe this was her life. "My body mutated."

"It didn't kill you?" Tim asks, surprised.

"It almost did," she admits quietly. "Spider-Man saved my life. I was only nineteen."

"How old are you now?" Damian asked, almost politely.

"Almost twenty-four," Heather smiled. "My fiance, Kurt, is trying to plan a surprise party for me with my Dick Grayson's help. They're not succeeding, but it's adorable to watch so I'm letting it go for now."

"You weren't lying when you said you were close with him, were you?" Tim said, almost sounding like he was talking to himself.

"Robin was always one of my biggest heroes," Heather admitted. "When we finally met, he became one of my closest friends. He's practically my brother."

"That's why you were sure he would help you," Damian concluded.

"He's my best shot," Heather admitted as Bruce finally stepped into the cave, Dick right behind, followed by an Asian woman with short dark hair, and finally an African American teen about Tim's age.

Heather tilted her head at the woman and teen in confusion. The woman only smiled mildly and waved, while the teen mirrored her frown. Well, that's definitely new. Maybe this Bruce does have more of an adoption problem than mine.

"You got my message?" Tim asked.

"Yes. We've been watching the security cameras," Bruce muttered, eying Heather like she was one of the Riddler's newest puzzles. Which, ow.

"Hello," Heather said, giving a cheery smile despite the increase in suspicious eyes on her. "I'd get up to greet you, but..."

"Oh, this one has jokes," Dick said, coming to gently take Damian's dagger away. "That's refreshing. Last time we got someone from a parallel universe, they weren't any fun. Remember Bruce? The Stephanie doppelganger?"

"Dick," Bruce reprimanded before his eldest could go off on a tangent.

"Oh yeah, no, that one was no fun," Tim agreed, ignoring Bruce’s sigh. "This one says she's known you since you were Robin."

"Hey, I have!" Heather protested. "C'mon, we were all getting along so well. I mean, aside from the stabby child over there... but I have a feeling he's like that with most people?"

"We're trying to break him of the habit," Dick commented dryly.

"Did Damian stab her?" The black teen asked.

"Not quite," Tim shrugged. "She's fast."

"Aw, thanks Tim" Heather beamed. "That's like the nicest thing you've said to me all day. When I get home, I'll be sure to tell my Tim you were nice. Even if you do need to lighten up a little."

"What makes you think you're going anywhere?" Dick asked, but Heather couldn't hear any real threat in the words. She had a feeling this Dick had just as big of a heart as her world's.

"Look, obviously me being here is upsetting for multiple reasons. You guys love your privacy, and you hate having someone around who compromises that, I get it. Not to mention, it's probably not a good idea for someone from the wrong multiverse to stay here long term. I mean, I'm a biochemist not a theoretical physicist, but I'm assuming it's probably bad," Heather shrugged as much as her bonds allowed. "So, the way I see it is, you help me get back home, and we're all happy in the end. Right?"

"How can we trust that you're telling the truth?" Tim asked again, but she could tell Bruce was thinking it over.

"I don't know what you want me to say, Timmy," Heather told him honestly. "I mean, I could sit here all day telling you things that are true of my universe? Like, I know that Dick’s first pet was Zitka, the circus elephant. I know that my Tim basically blackmailed Batman into making him Robin. I know that my Alfred never uses cloves in his cooking because Bruce is allegic, which is why he never drinks the eggnog at the Justice League's Christmas party. Is any of that true in this universe? I don't have a clue. What I do know for certain is that you all are my only shot of getting home. If you won't help me..."

Heather swallowed, staring at nothing as the despair of that possibility hit her full force. "I'll never see my family again, and Kurt will never know what happened to me. Please, I'm begging here, help me get home."

Bruce crossed his arms and looked at the Asian woman that hadn't said a word so far. The woman looked to be in her early twenties, a little younger than this world's Dick. Heather had tried not to let it bother her, but the younger woman had been watching her intently the whole time they'd been talking. Heather couldn't help feeling like she was missing something as she watched the woman turn to Bruce and smile.

"Not lying. I trust her," She finally said.

The words were stilted in a way that normally Heather would associate with learning a new language, but the woman had a distinct Gotham accent. It almost reminded Heather of how her little sister used to talk when she'd started speech therapy, like the woman wasn't sure how to put her thoughts into spoken words.

"Okay, as much as I appreciate the vote of confidence, I have to ask - who are they?" Heather asked, unable to hide her curiosity.

"You don't have a Cassandra Cain or Duke Thomas in your world?" Dick asked.

Heather shook her head, "Doesn't ring a bell, but that doesn't mean they don't exist. Like I was saying earlier, my timeline seems a little skewed from this one. My Tim is younger, and as far as I know, my Bruce doesn't have a bio kid. It's just Dick, Tim, Babs and me around."

"What about Jason Todd?" Bruce asked quietly, and if she hadn't known another version of this man so well she might not have heard his trepidation for the answer.

"That's... I mean..." Heather blew out a somber breath. "Jason was murdered by the Joker," she admitted reluctantly. Every face in the room fell, but there was an air of recognition to the grief. Clearly, the same fate had befallen their Jason as well.

Heather continued after a moment, "That was a few years ago. Recently, he, well... came back. Things are still a little delicate, so he's been staying with me and Kurt for the time being."

"Why isn't he home with us?" Dick asked.

Heather grimaced. "You have to understand, he wasn't in his right mind. He - well, he attacked our Tim and hurt him pretty badly. They're both doing better, but Jason hasn't forgiven himself and still has things to work through, and Tim needs time to recover mentally and emotionally. We're giving them both space until if and when they're ready to be in the same room."

"Wow, what a concept," Tim deadpanned, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. Bruce and Dick looked uncomfortable. Heather narrowed her eyes but decided not to ask. Not her circus, not her monkeys. She could only do so much for the Wayne family in her own universe; she couldn't possibly fix an entirely different one as well. Especially when she didn't have the complete picture.

"Ya know, I kind of wish we had a version of her," Duke spoke up. "That's like the most level headed decision I've heard from someone in this family in... no, scratch that, ever."

"Don't give me too much credit," Heather smiled, but it was self-derogatory. "I've had my fair share of screw ups, too. Sometimes, you just need an outside perspective." She sighed, wishing she could rub her eyes. "Look, I get that this is a lot to ask, but I have to track down Vibe before he disappears from this world, too. I can stay right here if it makes you all feel better, but I need help finding his tachyon signature so I can catch him and make him take us home. The batcomputer is my best chance."

"Quick question," Dick lifted a hand, frowning at her. "What do you mean by 'make us feel better'?"

Heather clicked her tongue and stood up, walking to the far wall of the cage, opposite the door. She flexed her muscles, snapping the metal grappeling cord like it was dental floss. As the cord fell into a pile on the floor, she reached forward and using two fingers on each hand, bent two of the steel bars towards each other into an 'x'. She stepped back from the cage wall and put her hands behind her back, shrugging sheepishly.

"You could escape at any time, couldn't you?" Duke guessed.

Heather nodded, chewing her cheek.

"You could have broken in here without alerting anyone, gotten what you wanted, and left without a trace," Tim added. "Just like how you got passed all of the security on the grounds."

"Well, I don't know about completely leaving without a trace," Heather hedged, rubbing the back of her neck. "I'm not Kurt, I can't teleport, and I don't have invisibility either."

"Hn, perhaps you could explain your powers to us in detail while we start searching for your missing rogue," Bruce said.

She didn't know this Bruce or what had happened in his life to alter it from the man she did know, but she could hear the world's greatest detective in his voice and it made the anxiety in her chest melt. They weren't going to abandon her, they were going to help.

The only question left, was when?

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