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There was something beautiful in the green of the pits. Toxic and deadly, capable of great magic at a cost of sanity, no wonder it filled even the Ra's Al Ghul with respect. A man that bathed in it's waters for centuries, would know to fear that which kept him alive. Ra's was possibly the only man on earth that could say he knew the true Lazarus, the entity whose opened veins spilled the green waters into the underground, into the cavers of the caves. No magic as great as this one could be a matter of simple coincidence, no, it was divine intervention that breathed life back into so many and yet so few.
Tim himself never entered any of Ra's pits, despite nearly dying in a desert and loosing his spleen. He should have been grateful, he saw what happened to Jason, he saw what Lazarus possession looked like. Eyes filled with hatred, deep ancient fury that delighted in spilling guts, green as the waters that remade him. There was no such thing as Lazarus Pit madness, but the possessions where the closest thing to it. Jason would loose control over himself, the Pit whispering it's desires into his mind, mixing them cleverly into his thoughts so they looked and sounded like his. But it was not like Jason couldn't refuse, it just took a certain strength of character that the man lacked.
Tim only once saw that kind of beast in Ra's eyes, when he was throwing him out of the window, but he knew that even without the monster's influence he would have tried to kill him. Tim was too much of an annoyance at the tail end of their partnership, he proved himself too clever, too cunning to be left alive and wandering the earth.
Except Ra's didn't succeed, and strangely enough no other assassinations attempts came. Tim waited for them, put multiple contingencies in place for when the deranged man would come back. Ra's rage was not a short lived thing, it could fester in his mind for decades to come, even when the reason for retribution no longer existed. Not to mention that Lazarus could feed it with it's own magic, the being revealing in chaos.
Maybe that should have been Tim's first warning. Instead he waited like a fool for a sign, one too real to be ignored.
That's how the dreams started.
Logically there was no possible way for these dreams to occur, as frequently as they did — Tim shouldn't be having them at all, never mind in such a vivid detail. He tried to remember when he might have touched even a drop of the Lazarus waters, and couldn't come up with anything. Getting a sample was hard enough when Ra's still believed Tim could turn out to be his heir, now as his sworn nemesis it was downright impossible.
And yet.
It often started like this, with Tim refusing to enter his REM cycle for far too long, getting by on pills and energy drinks. Human body needed to enter the REM sleep to function properly, and even if Tim was buying himself time but never fully sleeping, the entity would come back, stronger, furious at being denied. He could postpone the meeting but he could never run from it.
He would wake up, wake up in a dream.
The place of his awakening would differ, depending on Lazarus's mood but there was always that unmistakable green vapor, caressing his body,curling the ends of his hair. Some days the dream would end here, with Tim spending hours reduced to a comfort plush or a dress up doll for the entity that attached itself to him. It was not half bad, those days — he would wake up rested, and for a while his skin would have that perfect shine to it no matter how dirty he got. Small favors, buried under the horrifying reality Tim was subjected to.
Today was not one of the pleasant dreams, it had been entirely too long since they seen each other for that. With Tim running Wayne Enterprises, a vigilante life and his responsibilities as a member of Young Justice, he didn't manage to catch enough sleep. Meaning that for at least a month, his REM cycle was disturbed. And the monster grew hungry with the absence.
Tim opened his eyes as soon as he closed them and found himself in a half caved in cave. The only source of light in the space was the drying Lazarus Pit, still hot with magic but unmistakeably on the verge of its death, the water not even moving let alone shimmering with anger of the entity inhabiting it.
Oh so it was pissed but not enough to punish Tim.
"You left me alone, abounded me for weeks"
It hisses, like a snake but with thousands voices instead of one. Using the voices of every person that ever stepped into the Pits. Tim can hear Jason's raspy baritone, Ra's smooth and cunning tones, Talia's melodic but cruel song.
The green water started to rise from its bed, taking a vague form of a person. There was not enough of it to fully give it shape — there were holes in the torso, dripping with the green, and its entire left hand was missing.
"It was a busy month." Tim shrugs his shoulders and averts his eyes from the creature, slowly making his way over to him. Tim could fill vomit gathering in his throat, just from catching a glimpse at the entity. It was trying to summon a body now, the water getting replaced with rotting flesh, skin peeling off from the bones. The cave filled in with the smell of the corpse, constantly joining in with the odor of the Lazarus Pits.
"And I never want to see you, anyway"
The cave shook with the hissing laughter coming from the creature, falling apart on itself. It's skin bulged like it was filled with crawling maggots and Tim swallowed down the acidic saliva gathering in his mouth.
"You don't get a choice, pretty thing"
With a last furious glimpse in its eyes, directed at Tim, it felt apart. The skin, flesh and bones, all of it was gone and laying in a puddle on the cave's floor. The splash was what did it to him, Tim falling on his knees, holding his turning stomach to vomit. The smell got even more terrible, Tim dizzy with it, stuck in the nauseous cycle.
"Poor thing"
Thousands voices cooed at him, from all around the cave, the source of them coming from everywhere. A truly headache inducing experience. Tim digged his fingers into his scalp, squeezing painfully to cast the incoming migraine away. All it does is makes his head hurt even more.
"Leave me alone!"
He screams, starting to sob. Lazarus is not punishing him yet, this is how their standard meetings go, but without doubt it is dragging the cave part out. Usually Tim doesn't want to skip to the next part, but today he would take it over the smell of rot and vomit.
It growls at him, deep and loud like a beast from hell.
"Ungrateful boy, you have no idea of sins committed by others just so I would show them the same affections I have shown to you"
It's too loud, it's too loud in here, Tim thinks hysterically while his head gives another painful pulse. He is half tempted to smash it against the rocks in here.
"You are so stubborn. I shall ought to teach you a lesson"
The world spins around on its axis, shapes and colors blurring together. For a short moment Tim is as light as a feather and then he comes plummeting down. There's darkness all around him and he is falling, falling down and fast towards nothingness. It doesn't last long. He still has to remind himself that he cannot die here, forcing his racing heart to calm down.
Huh.
Maybe he can die here, having a stroke during sleep is not unlikely to happen. Tim wonders if Lazarus knows that, or will he kill him accidentally one day.
Is there even such a thing as dying, when the being obsessed with you can bring you back?
He hits something plush and soft, like he just fallen into butter. There's an unmistakable feeling of touching silks, the fabric slipping from his fingers when he tries to catch it in his hands. He is naked, aside from something cold and tight around his neck. His hands wander to feel it out, carefully stroking his fingers along the edge. It's thick, not restricting his movements, but still uncomfortable. There are inscriptions, symbols carved into it, made with a long dead language, probably from Lazarus place of birth. Just under his chin is something circular, big like hoop earrings. Tim has a sudden realization, that somewhere in this place, his tormentor might have a leash.
A collar, he is wearing a fucking collar.
Tim opens his eyes and finds Jason looking at him. He sits up on what he can now see is a huge oval bed, surrounded in see through drapes. There's blinding light behind them, so its impossible for him to say where Lazarus took him. Or when.
Tim knows that its not really Jason lounging next to him, also naked save for shining green veins, raised at least an inch from his skin, bulging with the Lazarus power. The Pit can take whatever form it wants, Jason is just convenient for it, the form familiar after taunting Tim with it so many times.
"Look at me"
Its not Jason's voice, its something older, ancient, neither male or female. Powerful, Tim is hopeless, he has to obey it.
He takes it's whole form in, lounging against the pillows without a care, like its their honeymoon, a sick celebration of Tim's imprisonment and Lazarus love. There's nothing weird about their body, aside from the disgusting raised veins, it even looks like what Tim glimpsed of Jason in the communal cave showers. Perfection made by the entity currently stealing the image of his brother.
Lazarus smirks up at him, that same dimpled smile Jason gives when he wants to be an asshole.
"Look down, my awaited"
Tim, compelled by its voice, looks down their body, expecting to see a hard and leaking cock. What he finds instead, when Lazarus opens it's legs, is a cunt, with coarse hairs sitting on top of it, lips hidden, the clit barely peaking out. There's something golden glistening on the dark forest, guarding the opening. Lube perhaps?
Tim swallows audibly. He doesn't want to be here, but he always desired Jason. He longs to see the man's fury, usually directed at killing him, being used to keep his struggling body from escaping Jason's hold, while Tim and his cunt weep. Lazarus knows to use his desires against him, it must know that in Tim's fantasies Jason always has a dick. There's no reason to suspect that Jason is trans just like Tim, there was nothing of such nature in his files.
"Stop thinking so loudly, Timothy"
There's a huge hand guiding him down between the man's legs.
"Rejoice in the feast I have prepared for you"
Tim has no idea, whatever its the magic's fault, or should he blame his own desire for the way he dives into the entity's cunt. He pulls its legs further away, over his shoulders, to see the treasure hidden behind the dark hairs. Some of that golden liquid falls down to the opening hole and Tim licks it up with his tongue. The taste that hits his taste buds is sweet and thick — honey, the golden liquid on the Lazarus cunt is honey. Tim moans, louder than he ever did in his life and throws himself into cleaning out the honey. He doesn't think about it, if he brings pleasure to the monster using Jason's image, if he is forced to participate in whatever sick fetish it has, he can indulge himself. Tim licks and sucks only the skin where his dessert is. Sometimes the creature moans, but he barely hears it.
"Eager, arent we?"
Tim nods dumbly, and Lazarus laughs, shaking Tim away from its cunt. He whines, unhappy to be separated from the sweetness. He looks up at Jason's face, still smirking but red from pleasure.
"You like your appetizer, my awaited? Come here, let me taste you"
Tim climbs up its body, guided by a strong hand on the nape of his neck, squeezing hard. The creature wearing Jason's face doesn't kiss him, not at first. What Lazarus does instead is lick his lips, collecting the honey and its juices. It does it again and again, humming softly with its eyes closed. Its enjoying itself.
Tim, tiring from the weird sensation, catches Lazarus tongue with his teeth, sucking it into his mouth. Blood burst behind his teeth and Lazarus wraps its hands around his head, pushing him closer, forcing him to bite harder. There's a wet sound, as Tim's bottom and upper teeth connect. Realization hits him after the bitten of tongue hits the back of his throat and Tim chokes. He tries fighting off the hold of Lazarus, desperate to breathe, to spit the appendage out. He sobs loudly and shakes his head, but it doesn't help — Lazarus only holds him tighter, fingers keeping his jaw together.
"Swallow"
There's magic behind the command and so Tim is compelled to obey — he swallows the blood, the tongue and the sweet honey still sticky in his mouth. Lazarus lets him go when he feels it go down his throat, squeezing his neck.
"Good boy"
It turns them around while Tim is busy catching his breath and spitting whatever blood there is left in his mouth. He ends up on his back, head hitting the pillows. Before he can raise himself up, there's a weight on his chest, tights bracing against him. He looks up and sees the wet folds, still covered with honey, right before his eyes.
"WAIT..!"
Tim doesn't get to finish before Lazarus sits itself on his face, suffocating him. The juices from its cunt fall down into his open mouth, into his open eyes. He starts trashing, trying desperately to breathe.
"Eat me, Timothy. Torn my skin apart with your teeth. Let us become one, as we were meant to be"
He sobs but still follows the order. Tim bites its clit first, the first thing that he could reach, and he bites down hard. The blood hits him first, before his lips can close around the torn out flesh. Vomit comes up at the taste and the feeling of having a literal body part in his mouth but he swallows it down along with the clit. Tim cries harder, choking on his sobs but goes back to work.
He spends hours down there, swallowing the flesh down, tasting blood. With the honey still clinging to the cunt's lips it was more bearable, but as soon as Tim ate those the metallic scent overtook everything.
"I cant stop, make me stop"
His please are unheard, ignored in favor of Lazarus screaming its lungs out. The nightmare doesn't stop.