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guilty-ff · 3 months ago

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𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐏𝐭.4

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏 ˚⁎⁺˳ .

Previously: Y/N, restrained and tortured, learns from Francis that her regeneration causes others to suffer in her place. As the pain intensifies, she weakly mutters his name before passing out.

This story takes place between the second and third movies (warning: not 100% movie/comic accurate)

Pairing: Wade Wilson/Deadpool x Reader

Genre: Angst, revenge, Fanfiction, Marvel

Warnings: Movie Spoilers! Explicit content, swearing, torture, mental health, weapons

Word count: 3927

Wade was a broken man, trapped in a relentless cycle of despair and obsession. His life, once marked by chaos and humor, had become an endless string of sleepless nights and futile searches.

The warehouse, which had once been a safe place of his independence and creativity, was now a pitiful reflection of his deteriorating mental state. It was cluttered with stacks of documents, photographs pinned disorganised on the walls, and maps dotted with red circles and frantic scribbles. Every inch of the space was covered in evidence of his failed search for Y/n, and the air was stuffy with the odor of stale coffee and unwashed clothes.

Wade's physical appearance mirrored his mental decline. He had lost weight, his once muscular frame now gaunt and sickly. His suit, once his pride, was now old and stained. The red and black fabric was faded, a wretched testament to his endless struggles.

His face, usually masked by his signature humor, was now painted with deep lines of exhaustion and despair. His eyes, once sharp and full of mischief, were now hollow and bloodshot, reflecting the sleepless nights and relentless guilt that hunted him.

The daily routine was monotonous and the same.

Wade would spend hours looking over the maps and documents, his fingers stained with ink and coffee. He would pace the warehouse, muttering to himself as he memorised every detail of his search. The endless cycle of hope and disappointment had messed up his sanity. Every time a lead turned out to be a dead end, it felt like another nail in his coffin.

Weasel had tried everything to break through to him. He had been by Wade's side through every failed attempt, every new lead that went nowhere. But as the years wore on, his patience began to wear thin.

Dopinder, too, had grown weary. He had watched Wade's descent into obsession with a heavy heart, and the silence in Altheas apartment was often emphasised by the sound of Weasel's frustrated sighs.

One evening, after yet another dead-end search, Weasel finally exploded. His face was flushed with anger and exhaustion as he stormed into the room. The narrow space, filled with the waste of Wade's obsessive quest, seemed to close in around him.

He slammed a stack of papers onto the table, the documents scattering and fluttering across the floor. "Wade, this is fucking insane!" he yelled, his voice cutting through the oppressive silence. "We've been at this for years! We've gone through every fucking corner of this city and beyond, and there's nothing. She's gone. You need to accept that!"

Wade, hunched over the table, looked up with hollow eyes. His face was pale, his expression a mix of desperation and confrontation. "Don't you fucking tell me that! She's out there. I know it. I can feel it. I promised I'd protect her. I can't just fucking let go."

Dopinder, who had been standing quietly, finally spoke. His voice was steady but laced with frustration. "Sir, he's right. This obsession is making you lose your mind. As you know, I once felt similar to Gita because of my cousin. It's time to face reality. Kidnapping Bandhu and going after her as you told me was not the move. She's not coming back."

Wade's face twisted in torment. "I can't stop. I made a promise to her. I have to keep looking. If I stop, it means I failed her."

Weasel's anger softened into a weary sadness.

"Wade, look at yourself. You're barely holding it together. This obsession is destroying you. It's okay to accept that she's gone. You can't keep going like this."

The argument had reached a fever pitch when Althea, arrived unannounced. She entered the room with a smirk sensing a suffocating atmosphere.

"Well, well, well," Althea drawled, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Look at you, Wade. You're like a fucking stray dog, clawing at every lead and getting nowhere. Pathetic, really. You've been digging through garbage for years, and what do you have to show for it? Nothing but a dirty room and a broken spirit."

Wade's eyes flared with anger and pain. "Shut up, Althea. You have no idea what this is like."

"Oh, I have an idea. You're just like a cockroach, scuttling around in the dark, hoping for a crumb. And look at you now- your obsession has turned you into a fucking joke. A pitiful, little joke."

The cruel words cut deep. Wade's resolve finally began to crumble under the weight of his guilt and the relentless pressure from his friends. He slumped into a chair, his body shaking with the intensity of his emotions. Tears streamed down his face as he realized the immensity of his failure.

Weasel placed a hand on Wade's shoulder, his voice soft but firm. "You did everything you could. It's time to take care of yourself. You've been searching for years. It's okay to let go."

Wade's voice was a broken whisper. "Fine. Fine. She's dead. I get it. She's gone." The admission felt like a knife twisting in his gut. "I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking sorry."

The room fell into a heavy silence. He sat alone in the dim light of the warehouse, feeling a hollow emptiness that no amount of searching could fill. The dream of finding Y/n and making things right had ended in crushing defeat.

Guilt catching up on him, eating away at whatever was left of his sanity. He should have been there for her, should have protected her. He would failed her, just like he had failed Vanessa.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•

As Wade's search faded into a resigned acceptance of her death, Y/N's reality became one of unending horror.

Francis, the man responsible for her capture, took pleasure in her suffering, using her as a pawn in his twisted game of revenge against Wade.

The sterile, metallic walls of her prison reflected her pain back at her, a constant reminder of the nightmare she could not escape. And as the torture escalated, so too did her resolve- she would survive this, if only to make sure Francis paid for what he had done.

Each day, Francis would enter, his footsteps echoing down the corridor before the door creaked open. He was always methodical, almost clinical in his approach, but his eyes betrayed a sadistic pleasure in what he was about to do.

He would start with the physical pain.

The tools varied- sometimes it was the sharp blade of a scalpel, cutting into her flesh; other times, it was the searing burn of heated metal pressed against her skin, leaving behind the burned smell of charred flesh.

But no matter how much she bled or how deeply the burns seared, Francis always had more in store for her, never satisfied with just one form of torture.

As Francis stood over her, his expression cold and unfeeling, a stark contrast to the cruel image that flickered in his eyes. His hands moved quickly as he secured the straps around her wrists and ankles, ensuring she could not move even an inch. Y/n's breaths were shallow and weak, each one a reminder of the agony her body had endured.

"Comfortable?" Francis asked, his voice dripping with mockery. He leaned over her, his face close enough that she could see the sick pleasure in his eyes.

Y/n managed to muster a weak glare, her voice a raspy whisper, "Go to hell."

He smiled, a cold, predatory grin that made her stomach turn. "Oh, we're already there, sweetheart." He nodded to one of his servants, who stepped forward with a large, filthy rag and a bucket of water. The sight of the bucket made Y/n's heart race, a surge of primal fear washing over her.

"Let's see how long you can hold your breath," Francis said, his tone almost casual, like they were discussing the weather.

The servant threw the rag over Y/n's face, the old fabric scraping against her raw skin. Her world became dark, the air around her thick and suffocating. Panic set in immediately, her body instinctively struggling against the restraints, but it was useless. She was trapped, helpless beneath the weight of the rag and the knowledge of what was coming next.

Francis stepped back, savoring the moment before giving a slight nod. The servant tilted the bucket, and the water poured out in a steady stream, soaking the rag and filling her mouth and nose. It was cold, a shock to her already trembling body, but that was quickly replaced by a more immediate terror.

Y/n exhausted, her body screaming for air, but all she could do was choke on the water. It felt like she was drowning, like her lungs were filling with liquid fire. Her mind screamed at her to breathe, to cough, to do anything to expel the water, but it was impossible. The rag was an unforgiving barrier, the water relentless as it flooded her senses.

"Do you know what the worst part is, Y/n?" Francis's voice cut through the roaring in her ears, his tone conversational as if they were chatting over tea.

"Wade's not coming for you. He's probably already forgotten you, moved on to the next whore who'll get caught up in his mess. You're nothing to him now. Just another casualty of his fucked-up life."

His words were a blade, slicing through the last threads of her resolve. Y/n wanted to scream, to tell him he was wrong, but all she could do was gag on the water that filled her throat, her body arching off the table in a desperate attempt to escape the suffocating torture.

Francis watched her struggle with cold detachment, his hands clasped behind his back. "He's not worth this, you know," he continued, his voice low and insidious. "You're suffering for nothing. For a man who doesn't even have the decency to keep searching for you. How long do you think you've been here, Y/n? Days? Months? Years?"

Her mind spun, disoriented by the lack of oxygen and the overwhelming need to breathe. Time had lost all meaning in this place, each moment stretching into an eternity of pain and fear. She did not know how long she had been here, but it felt like forever. And the thought that Wade had given up on her, that he had moved on... it was a torture all its own.

Francis nodded again, and the water stopped. The rag was ripped away, and Y/n gasped, coughing violently as her lungs finally found air. Her body shaken violently, trying to dodge the water that had nearly drowned her, each breath a ragged, painful gasp.

But Francis was not done. He leaned down, his face close to hers, his voice a poisonous whisper. "He's not coming for you. No one is. You're all alone, Y/n. And this... this is your life now."

Her chest heaved as she struggled to breathe, her body trembling with exhaustion and fear. But somewhere deep inside, buried beneath the pain and terror, a spark of defiance still flickered. She would not let him break her. Not like this.

Y/n turned her head, her eyes meeting his with a fierce determination. "Fuck... you," she spat, her voice hoarse but filled with venom.

Francis straightened, a cold smile tugging at his lips. "We'll see how long that fire lasts," he said, stepping back as the servant prepared for the next round of water.

And as the rag was placed over her face once more, Y/n braced herself for the flood, for the darkness that threatened to consume her. But she would hold on to that little hope, no matter how small it was. Because it was all she had left.

Days turned into a blur of pain and despair. The cycle of waterboarding became just one of many methods Francis employed to break her spirit. The physical torment was relentless, but it was the psychological warfare that truly triggered her. He seemed to take a perverse pleasure in ensuring that she remained as mentally shattered as she was physically.

Francis knew how to break a person from the inside out. He was a master of manipulation, weaving a web of lies and half truths designed to trigger her spirit.

He would lean in close, his breath hot against her ear as he whispered cruel taunts. "You really thought Wade would come for you?". He would say, his voice dripping with malice.

His words were like poison, getting into her mind, making her question everything she had believed. She tried to resist, to cling to the hope that Wade was still out there, searching for her, but with each passing day, that hope vanished.

The isolation, the constant pain, and the relentless psychological assault began to wear her down. Francis took every opportunity to remind her of how alone she was, how forgotten she had become.

He had a way of getting inside her head, twisting her thoughts until she did not know what was real anymore. He played mind games with her, altering the timing of her torture sessions so she could never expect when the next wave of pain would come. Sometimes he would leave her in darkness for days, the silence broken only by the distant echoes of other prisoners' screams, a constant reminder of her own doom.

As the years dragged on, Y/n changed. She had lost track of how long she had been trapped in that hellhole. The days had bled together in a blur of agony and despair. The torture had done more than scar her body- it had twisted her mind, turning her into something she barely recognized.

The physical pain was constant, but it was the psychological torment that truly broke her. The things Francis had done to her, the things he had made her believe about Wade, had planted a seed of hatred in her heart, one that grew with every day of her captivity.

The isolation was suffocating. Y/n found herself questioning her own memories, her own worth. The lines between reality and the lies Francis fed her began to blur. She started to believe that Wade had forgotten her, that she was not worth saving. The thought of him moving on, living a life without her, filled her with a rage she had never known before- a rage that Francis eagerly thrilled.

Six years had passed in a relentless blur of pain and suffering since the accident, leaving Y/n in the dark, cramped cell. Her bruised body and broken spirit showed the unending cruelty she had endured.

The cell was a dark, oppressive space, highlighted only by a sliver of moonlight that struggled through a foggy window. Y/n laid crumpled on the cold concrete floor, her body twisted in exhaustion.

The air was heavy, the stench of old blood and sweat mingling with the scent of despair. Her clothes, once white, were now an old and torn mess, barely clinging to her damaged frame. Her skin was marked with bruises and burns, each one a testament to the relentless cruelty she had faced.

Breathing was a struggle, each inhale short and shallow, as if her lungs were weighed down by the enormity of her torture. Her eyes, hollow and unfocused, drifted across the cracked walls. She mumbled to herself, her voice barely more than a whisper, choked by the weight of her guilt and despair.

"They're... they're suffering because of me," she murmured, her voice breaking with the weight of her own realization. "They're dying... and I'm... I'm still here..."

Her thoughts were a mess, separated by the horror she had endured and witnessed. The echoes of distant screams and cries seemed to mess with her mind, though she knew they were not her own. Each cry, each plea for help, was a stark reminder of the suffering she had become intertwined in.

She tried to push away the images and sounds of others' suffering, but they seemed to get into her consciousness, an unending reminder of the pain she had without intention caused.

"Why... why can't I stop this?" she mumbled, her voice stammering. "Why am I the one who's still alive, when they... they're not?"

She felt a intense sense of disconnection from reality, as if the walls of her cell were closing in on her, pressing her down with the weight of her guilt. The thought that her continued survival meant the maintenance of others' suffering was unbearable. She was a vessel of pain, a curse that dragged others into hell with her.

In the silence of her cell, the only sound was her quiet mumbling and the occasional shudder of her body. Her thoughts swirled in a chaotic blur, a never- ending loop of self-blame and guilt. Despite the crushing weight of her situation, a small, flickering hope remained. It was this tiny spark, barely noticeable that drove her to plan her escape.

The day of Y/n's escape had finally arrived, though its outcome remained uncertain. Her heart pounded in her chest as the guards dragged her into a dark metal room, the weight of her chains clinking with every step.

As she was forced to lay on the cold metal table, her body trembling from the effects of the latest torture, a spark of resistance still burned within her.

They had locked her in a small, dark box this time, the temperature slowly dropping until she could see her breath in the air, until her fingers went numb and her teeth chattered uncontrollably.

The cold seeped into her bones, turning her blood to ice. She could feel the frost forming on her skin, tiny crystals of ice biting into her flesh. It hurt- God, it hurt- but she refused to scream. Screaming would only give them the satisfaction of knowing they had won.

The box was so small that she could not move, could not even shift her position to relieve the pressure on her aching joints. The darkness was suffocating, pressing in on her from all sides. She could not see anything, could not hear anything but the faint sound of her own breathing, growing shallower as the cold tightened its grip on her lungs. She focused on that sound, using it to ground herself, to keep from slipping into the abyss of madness that threatened to consume her.

When they finally pulled her out, her body was shaking so badly that she could barely stand. They threw her back onto the table, chaining her wrists and ankles so tightly that the metal bit into her skin. She could feel the blood trickling down her arms, warm against the chill that still clung to her. Francis stood over her, a smug smile on his face as he looked down at her shivering form.

"You're stronger than I expected," he said, his voice cold and clinical. "But everyone breaks eventually. It's just a matter of time."

Y/n did not respond. She did not have the strength to. She lay there, her chest rising and falling in shallow, rapid breaths, her eyes half-closed. To Francis, she looked like she was on the brink of passing out, just another victim of his sadistic games. But Y/n was far from unconscious. She was waiting.

Francis turned away, motioning for the guards to prepare her for the next round of torture. They moved around her, their footsteps heavy on the concrete floor. Y/n waited until one of them leaned in close, unlocking the chain around her wrist. In that split second, she struck.

With a surge of adrenaline-fueled strength, she grabbed the guard's arm and yanked it toward her, using his own momentum to pull him off balance. Her hand found the sharp shard of ice she had hidden, formed from the frost that had coated her body during the freezing torture.

She drove it into his throat with all the force she could muster. The man gurgled, blood spurting from the wound as he collapsed to the ground, the life draining from his eyes.

"Fuck, she broke ou-"

The second guard barely had time to react before she was on him, the makeshift weapon flashing in the dim light as she drove it into his chest. He staggered back, clutching at the wound as blood poured from between his fingers. Y/n did not stop to watch him fall. She was already moving, her body fueled by a desperate, animalistic need to survive.

Francis turned, his eyes widening in shock as he saw her standing over the bodies of his guards, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "You-" he started, but she did not give him a chance to finish. She lunged at him, the ice shard slicing through the air, aiming for his throat. But Francis was quicker than she had anticipated. He dodged to the side, catching her wrist in a vice-like grip.

She struggled, but he was stronger, his hand tightening around her wrist until she could feel the bones grinding together. Pain shot up her arm, but she refused to let go of the shard. She twisted, bringing her knee up into his gut. He grunted, loosening his grip just enough for her to pull free.

Y/n did not waste any time. She turned and ran, her bare feet slapping against the cold floor as she sprinted down the hallway. She could hear Francis shouting behind her, calling for more guards, but she did not stop. She did not look back. All she could think about was getting out, getting away from this place and the horrors it held.

The facility was a labyrinth of sterile hallways and locked doors, but she knew it well. She had been dragged through these corridors enough times to memorize every turn, every exit. Her breath was coming in ragged gasps, her lungs burning with the effort, but she pushed herself harder, refusing to let the exhaustion slow her down.

Finally, she burst through a door and into the open air. The night was cold, the sky a dark, starless void above her. But the chill was a welcome relief after the suffocating confines of the facility. She did not stop running, her feet pounding against the ground as she made her way toward the fence that surrounded the compound.

She could hear the guards behind her, their shouts growing louder as they closed in. But she did not care. She was almost there, almost free. With a final burst of strength, she launched herself at the fence, scrambling up the chain-link like a wild animal. Her hands were slick with blood and sweat, making it hard to keep her grip, but she refused to let go. She hauled herself over the top, her body crashing to the ground on the other side with a painful thud.

She did not stop. She could not. Ignoring the pain that shot through her limbs, she pushed herself to her feet and started running again, disappearing into the night, leaving the facility and Francis behind.

But the damage had been done.

As she ran through the darkened forest, the memories of the past years haunted her, flashing before her eyes like a twisted film reel. The torture, the pain, the manipulation- they had all left their mark on her. She was no longer the woman she had been when she first entered that facility. That woman was dead, buried beneath the layers of trauma and hatred that now consumed her.

And as she ran, one thought burned brighter than all the others: Wade Wilson had abandoned her. He had left her to suffer, to be broken by Francis and him.

#fanfic #deadpool #deadpool 2 #deadpool 3 #deadpool x reader #fiction #marvel fanfiction #wade wilson #wade wilson x reader #marvel angst #marvel #marvel fic #deadpool x you #deadpool x y/n #deadpool 1 #angst #x men

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tiredofthehumanlife · 20 days ago

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Oh baby my baby you're in your seventies and can't beat the dementia allegations

Can you say "Jesus Christ ell could you make a longer tilte"? And I'll tell you yes I could've but I didn't for your comfort you're welcome btw

Barbie dolls: Five Hargreeves x gn!reader

Word: 2.9k

Summary: uh right so you were with five during the apocalypse and then it's like set in season 2 but you like forgot all about your life and shit and five findz you and yada yada it's cute I think

Warnings: I said you were born is 2006 BUT IT MAKES SENSE I DID MATH FOR THIS OKAY OKAY YOU GUYS ARE THE SAME AGE, I made a timeline if you need it, you're married to him, five makes a half joke Abt you being an escapee from the insane asylum, it's a lil sad bc Five loves you and you don't even remember him but whatcha gonna do?, you ogle a stripper/burlesque dancer I KNOW THEY AREN'T THE SAME BUT LEAVE ME ALONE I DODNT EVEN KNOW HOW TO DRIVE, five ogles a stripper/burlesque dancer, open ended ending bc I got tired of writing about a season we've all already watched, that's it I think

Something has always felt off. You couldn’t remember anything before five months ago. There were faces around town that made you tilt your head because you were sure you knew them. Even the people you lived with hadn’t met you before five months ago. They found you standing on the sidewalk down some road, looking around like you’d never even seen a town before. They let you in. You got a bed and a roof all for free. They were taking care of you out of the goodness of their heart. You didn’t have the guts to not give them anything back so you got a job within your second month of living there.

It was a fine job. You worked in a diner. It wasn’t anything crazy. It had milkshakes and a fine paycheck. It had red booths and a box pattern on the floor that you pretended was hopscotch when it hit a lull. Sometimes customers were rude but you spit in their food sometimes so you considered the world balanced. It was just a diner in the simplist terms. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Something about it all just seemed off. You’d get songs stuck in your head that no one knew. You’d get Deja vu about things you couldn’t place. You’d see people stare at you like they knew you and when you walked by they seemed sad. You didn’t know who they were. You’d get this feeling like you missing something. You were homesick for a home you couldn’t remember.

You were currently listening to your coworker telling you about his day as you scribbled into your server pad. You had a flower in the bottom corner and you were starting a new spiral. The bell above the door rang. You kept listening to your coworker.

“Sit anywhere you’d like and we’ll be right with you.” You said, eyes still on the pad. Your coworker paused his spiel. You looked up from the pad to see what made him stop. A man who appeared to be your age walked straight across the diner floor. He was in a school uniform that you didn’t recognize and his eyes were set on you. His hands were shoved in his pockets as he walked to the counter in front of you. He sat in the barstool right across from you and smiled at you. He looked you up and down before sighing.

“Hi.” He said it like a weight was lifted off his shoulders. It sounded like he was seeing an old friend again. His face gave you that same sick stomach feeling. You tilted your head, staring at his face to see if you could place it. Nothing.

“What can I get you started with?” Your coworker said, picking up your slack. The man glanced over at your coworker and rolled his eyes before looking at you again.

“Have we met before?” You asked, leaning onto the counter to give him your full focus. His smile fell a little, sitting back. He gestured to his chest subconsciously.

“You don’t- you don’t remember me?” He asked, looking hurt. You shook your head.

“No, I had a mishap five months ago. I can’t rember anything before that, so if we’ve met I’m sorry I’ve forgotten.” You said, shoving your server pad into your apron. The man’s eyebrows furrowed. He hummed.

“That is horrific news.” He muttered. You shrugged.

“Yeah.”

“Well, I’m not sure what to do now.” He said, looking down at the counter.

“You could order and I’ll give you my number before you leave so you can call me and maybe reinform me?” You said. The man looked up and nodded. He sighed and tapped the counter.

Days later he was standing in the bedroom that was temperaily yours with a blackboard behind him. He turned to the blackboard writing something at the top. He pulled back and let you read it. ‘Your life for the past 50 years’ You snorted at his joke, looking over at him to see if he was laughing too. Your smile fell at the very serious look in his eyes. You tilted your head to the side. He pressed his lips together and shrugged.

“Right, first things first. You’re in your seventies.” He said, clapping his hands together. You stared at him, realizing you might have let a crazy man into your home.

“Right. You can tell by my loafers and shaw.” You muttered. He shrugged.

“Second thing my name is Five.” You actually laughed at that. You had officially let a crazy person into your home. You leaned back on your bad, staring at the ceiling to laugh harder.

“Course I’m seventy, and your name is Five. What’s next you’re going to tell me you’re a time traveler?” You joked, snorting again at your own joke. “Five” avoided your eyes and sighed. You gasped.

“You are going to tell me you’re a time traveler.” You said, staring at him in shock. He turned back to the blackboard. His hand shot out, making a line across the board. “Five" drew a small vertical line at the start. You heard the chalk writing and then he pulled back. On top of the vertical line was ‘Birth (2006)’. Your eye twitched.

Hours later the board was full to the max, Five was breaking a sweat, and you felt like your head was going to explode. You stood from the bed, pacing back and forth as Five pulled off his top blazer and rolled up his sleeves. He really was selling the substitute teacher look now. You huffed and faced him.

“So just to recap, We got stuck in the apocalypse for 45 years. Then we were hired by basically an assassination team. Then we time traveled back to the ‘present’ which at the time was 2019. Then we didn’t stop the apocalypse and time traveled again so we didn’t all die. Your time travel shit knocked my memories out of my ear or whatever. We got trapped in the 60s and you just got here. There are 5 other people in this town who are also time travelers. You and your siblings have superpowers. And there’s another apocalypse coming. Is that right?” You said, counting on a finger at each new event. Five hummed, tapping the chalk against the side of his face and turning back to the board. He looked at the chalkboard covered in white lines. It was honestly hard to look at and you were curious as to how either of you were still standing up right. Five clicked his tongue.

“Oh! Also, we’ve been married for decades. Coming up on 36 years or something along those lines. It’s a little hard to keep track with all the time travel but once I get my hands on a calendar I can let you know specifics.” Five said, adding another note to the board. You stared at him for a moment. He turned around and gave you a small smile.

“Well, isn’t that wild? What a life huh? You know not to be rude but if all of this is true, and that’s a major if, why would I want to go back to a life like that? I mean running from apocalypses, apocalypsi? Ends of the world. Actually, I'm an assassin. I know it’s a lame life but I think I’d rather work at the diner.” You said, sitting down on the edge of the bed again. Five chewed on his lip, setting the piece of chalk down. He settled next to you sighing on his way down and making you believe the 70-year-old spiel a little more.

”If you want to stay here, you can. I won’t stop you. I’m not going to force you to come with me. I just want to remind you that your life here would only last 10 more days.” He said. It was subtle and quiet but you heard the break in his voice at the end of his talk. You hummed and stared at the carpet. You looked over at him to see a dusty white patch on the side of his face. His head was dipped down like he was trying to hide the fact he was crying. You reached over and wiped the chalk off the side of his face. Five turned his head away from you, wiping at his eyes. When he faced you again you were holding out a tissue to him. He pulled back, staring down at the tissue.

“Where’d you get that?” You scoffed, waving it at him. He snatched it out of your hand.

“Stop asking me questions, I’m clearly in a fragile mental state. I just learned I’m 70 and married, it’s a lot to take in. Especially now that I know I have to help stop the end of the world for the second time apparently.” You muttered, looking back at the carpet. Even though when you first walked into the room you felt like you were going to throw up just looking at the color now you thought you might miss it. Five sat up.

“You’re not staying?” He whispered, scared if he pulled his tone up you’d change your mind.

“Well, I don’t know you. I used to. And when I did, I trusted you enough to marry you. And not divorce you for the thirty years after that. I think if I had my memories, I’d trust you enough to follow you to the end of the world.” You said. Five sighed and looked at your lips. You had no idea what it felt like to stare your lover in the eyes and see unrecognization staring back at you. You felt an awkward pain of ‘I don’t really care but I should’ hit your heart. You leaned back and reached your hand out. You awkwardly patted his shoulder. He pressed his lips together and nodded.

“Yeah, it’s you. It’s still you.” He muttered before standing up. He held his hand out towards you. You looked between his face and hand, staying seated.

“Right.” Five dropped his hand and spun around towards the door. He gestured over his shoulder to follow him. You looked at the chalkboard and assumed he didn’t care enough to fix it. You followed after him.

“Where are we headed?” You asked once you were both halfway down the street from your temporary home. You should’ve asked earlier but you were focused on keeping pace with him. Five glanced at you from the corner of his eye.

“Strip club.” He said blatantly. You clapped your hands together once.

“Ah. What was I thinking? Of course, we’re going to the strip club. Perfect first date if you ask me.” You said, waving your arms in the air. As a lady in short heels and a blue dress walked past you, you spoke to her. “Where are you off to? We’re off to the strip club! I think I’ve associated myself with a madman!” You said, shaking your head around and throwing your hands up. Five reached back for you, pulling you away by your elbow. The woman looked at you both with disgust as she slowly walked backward away from you both.

“So sorry. They’re an escape from the asylum. I’m taking them back now, pay it no mind.” Five said. He gave the woman a polite smile. You turned back to him gasping and holding your finger up.

“That’s what the P in Marsha P. Johnson stands for!” You said, facing ahead again. “Oh, how I love that woman.” You muttered. Five kept his attention on the woman.

“See? They’re making up historical figures. Cuckoo.” He waved his finger around next to his ear and faced the front again. You smacked his shoulder. He pulled you away faster, picking up his pace.

Initially you thought he was kind of kidding when Five said you were going to a strip club. But you were now starting to realize you should stop assuming he’s joking about things. You sighed in the rather uncomfortable chair as you both sat near the stage. Your chairs were pressed together, by Five no less. The second you made it inside he was shoving a chair up against the other one, the armrests pressing into each other. You watched the lady on stage, wondering how much money she was making and wondering how hard burlesque would be to pick up. Five leaned over the arm of his chair, his hand hovering over his mouth as he spoke into your ear.

“You know this isn’t our first date right? Not even a date really.” Five said, watching you intently as you turned your head to face him. You were so close you could easily count the number of hairs forming his peach fuzz on his face. You didn’t because that would be a waste of time but you could. You shrugged.

“I mostly said it as a joke but yes I would assume our first date wasn’t to burlesque. Seeing as it was the apocalypse.” You said, shaking your head and looking back to the woman. You thought of dropping the conversation but knowing the specifics of your relationship would be so nice.

“What was it though? For research.” You added an excuse like he didn’t fully know you were lying. Five shrugged and stared at the floor.

“We had a table and chairs made out of these rocks we found. It was hard work getting it set up but we had an apocalypse dinner. Which basically consists of Twinkies and other food that cannot perish no matter how hard it tries. It was actually quite nice. We didn’t really have a whole lot of time to just be normal people so even just sharing a Twinkie over our rock tables felt refreshing. Our dates after that were really just us sharing the same dirt pile as our bed and keeping each other alive. Then when we got back to 2019 I actually took you for a half-decent date. We went out and got takeout from the greasiest place imaginable and ate it at my father's extremely expensive table.” When he spoke a smile met his face like an old friend. He kept his eyes on the floor because he knew even though you were sitting next to him you wouldn’t return the nostalgia ridden smile.

“You really loved me. I can’t believe I just realized that because you talked about Twinkies.” You said, looking at the floor like it could feel your surprise too. Five hummed.

“I love you, not loved. It’s not in the past.” Five said, staring at you to make sure you saw the severity. You furrowed your eyebrows when your stomach swarmed. You raised an eyebrow.

“I wish I could tell you I love you back but I don’t know you in that way. I don’t even remember your favorite color.” You said. Five hummed and rubbed the side of your cheek with his thumb.

“It’s okay. I know you love me, even if you can’t remember it. I’m almost entirely certain we fall in love in every single timeline. Not to mention we’ve had plenty of time together. I know you inside and out. I know the color of your 13th birthday cake. I know what you look like when your body has aged 50 years. I know all I need to know about you to love you till the day I die and onward. You know these things about me but they’ve settled like dust in your brain. Someone just needs to kick it up and you’ll know my favorite color again. You’ll know what it was like to share a Twinkie over a rock table.” Five said, his thumb dipping down to your neck. He pulled his hand away, holding his head up with his hand instead.

“How could you say something so nice while a woman’s tits are shaking on a stage next to you?” You asked, glancing at the now mostly naked woman on the stage. You looked back to Five. His eyes were fully set on you. His head was tilted in a way that made you think he was thinking of you before you lost every memory. He pressed his lips together.

“I’m looking at someone gorgeous, why would I waste my time letting my vision slip to her breasts.” Yeah, Five might feel that way, but you don’t. You looked past him, dropping your jaw when you saw the move she made to slip her stocking off. With your dropped jaw, Five turned his head too. You both stared at her as she started to lose more clothes. A man stood behind Five’s chair. You reached out to Five, hoping he was down for conflict. The man leaned down towards Five’s ear. He whispered something and looked over at you. He smiled and gave you a light wave. You awkwardly looked around your surroundings, staring at the floor again.

“They lost their memory. It’s okay though, I have a theory it’ll come back. Family meeting on the corner of Commence and Knox by the way, today at 10 pm.” Five said before standing up.

“Come on, love. We have four other people to find.” Five said. Snatching your hand off the chair and dragging you away. He must’ve realized he was holding your hand by the time you left the building, dropping your hand immediately.

“She was about to lose her pants.” You said. Five smiled but pretended he didn’t, sighing and shaking his head. You snorted and followed after him.

#number five #five hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #five x reader #the umbrella academy #tua five #tua s2 spoilers #tua s2 #tua season 2 #max hargreeves

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cloudcountry · 2 years ago

Text

muse of mine (spoilers for book 3)

Genre/Tropes: No notable ones.

Summary: Azul sees you staring at him and scribbling in that stupid sketchbook of yours time and time again, and he doesn't know why. The worst part about it? Jade and Floyd both know and they won't stop teasing him.

Author's Comments: Azul's Overblot form is really pretty. I want to give him a kiss. Also I made reader extremely chatty and very willing to show people their art because I thought that'd be very interesting with Azul because he's so reserved.

~~~~~

You were staring again, and it was really starting to creep him out.

He was used to the piercing gazes of Jade and Floyd when they wanted something from him or found something new to mock him about. This was different because it was you.

You’d been coming to the Mostro Lounge for weeks now, having considered yourself acquainted with Azul and friends of all things with the eel twins. You never brought any schoolwork with you, but you always had a sketchpad and a pencil. You’d order the same drink, show Jade or Floyd (whoever brought you your drink on that day) what you’d drawn most recently, and then stare at him for the remainder of your visit.

Granted, it wasn’t constant. It just felt like it. Azul would look over at you only to find you sketching away. But then you’d look up, make eye contact with him, and he’d whip his head around like he’d never looked at you at all. Jade and Floyd thought this was hilarious, occasionally bragging about what was in your sketchbook that Azul hadn’t seen. He didn’t want to see what was in your sketchbook if it was something the twins found funny—it was probably weird and disturbing anyways.

And yet you wouldn’t stop staring at him.

“I’m going to do something about this.” he muttered to himself as he paced the VIP Room for the fifth time this week.

“Yeah, good luck Azul. I don’t know if you could handle what’s in that sketchbook of theirs.” Floyd hummed, his tone light and teasing.

“Indeed. It’s quite interesting, if I do say so myself.” Jade chuckled.

Azul ignored them. “They’re a paying customer, so I can’t very well throw them out. Should I just confront them?”

“Ohhhh yeah. Totally! I vote confront.” Floyd laughed loudly, Jade chuckling politely beside him.

Azul rubbed his temples, opting to just ask you what you were doing. What was the worst thing that could happen? You could say something outlandish and he could throw you out. He'd be losing some of his profit, but he had plenty of other paying customers, and you were driving him insane. He’d get some sanity back by just talking to you.

“Jade, Floyd. Bring them here.”

Neither of them said a word as they nodded and left. Floyd definitely found this funny if he didn’t complain, which worried Azul even more. Clearing his throat, he straightened his glasses and sat down at his desk. Maintaining his carefully crafted businessman facade, he waited for you to arrive.

A knock on the door almost made Azul jump out of his skin. He responded with the usual “come in,” staring at you over the rim of his glasses as you were escorted into his room.

“Azul, if you’re going to ask if I want a deal, then it’s a no. I’ve told you I’m not interested.” you said, smiling as you stood next to the guest chair.

Azul said nothing, but motioned for you to sit. You sat, brow beginning to furrow in confusion as Jade and Floyd left your side.

“They’re going to begin their shift. Don’t mind them.” he adjusted his glasses again, “Now, I’m going to ask you something and I want you to answer honestly.”

“Okay…?” you tilted your head to the side, still clutching that stupid sketchbook to your chest-

“Why do you stare at me so much?” he gritted his teeth, narrowing his eyes at you, “I’ve noticed. It’s not a constant thing, sometimes you’re staring and sometimes you’re not. Are you planning something? Searching for a weakness? You say you don’t want a deal, but why would you be so fixated if you didn’t want something from me?”

“Azul…actually, wait. I haven’t shown you any of my drawings, have I?” you lit up, scooching closer to the desk, “Here, let me show you-”

“I don’t care about what’s in your sketchbook.” he stated calmly, resting his hand on top of it to stop you from opening it.

“I’m telling you, Azul, it’ll answer your question.” you patted his hand gently, a gesture that made his heart stutter, “Will you let me show you?”

Reluctantly, he pulled his hand away. If this was a waste of time or a deflection, he would just stop you. Simple.

“Okay, so…” you opened to the first page, flipping through a few drawings before you stopped a little less than halfway through, “I’ve been documenting things that I love about this place just in case I go home someday. That way I won’t forget anyone’s faces even though a few years may pass. I’ve got Ace and Deuce and Grim and- well, you don’t care about that.”

You were right, he didn’t care about your Heartslabyul friends. The only time he cared was when they were working for him.

“So…well…I mean, I’ll just show you.” you looked excited as you turned another page and pushed your sketchbook towards Azul.

He blinked, not sure of what he was looking at, until he saw it.

You’d drawn him.

He was standing in his dorm uniform, one hand outstretched and mouth open as if talking to a client. His hat was tilted in his head, his hair curled like ocean waves. Swirling octopus tentacles bordered the page, with little heart doodles that Azul didn’t even want to think about littering the background.

“May I…?” he gestured flipping through the pages, to which you nodded enthusiastically.

He flipped to the next page, surprised to see a drawing of just his side profile this time. There was one of him smiling, him annoyed, him smug…

The next page. Him in his bean camo.

The next page. Him in his Halloween costume.

The next page-

His Overblot.

“I’ve been documenting things that I love about this place…”

“You drew…this form?” he recoiled, dropping the sketchbook on the table as if he’d been burned.

“Azul…” you sighed, staring at him with eyes full of an emotion he couldn’t bring himself to acknowledge, “I thought it was beautiful. Not that you were about to die or that I was about to die or that Ruggie and Leona and Jack and Ace and Deuce and Grim and- sorry, you get the point- I didn’t think your suffering was beautiful, I thought you were. You're still the prettiest boy on campus in my opinion. I know you don’t like your merform, and that’s why I was hoping I could really do it justice someday, so that you could look at my art and say woah! That’s beautiful! I love looking at this! And recognize it because if it’s not exactly like you then it won’t be as beautiful as I want it to be.”

“If it’s not exactly like you then it won’t be as beautiful as I want it to be.”

Azul’s face was aflame, and by the look on your face you definitely thought he was upset. Of course there was a part of him that thought you were mocking him, but the bigger part of him knew you weren’t that type of person.

“Buttering me up won’t help you get something out of me.” he mumbled, hoping his face wasn’t as red as it felt.

“Oh, you’re flustered! Not angry. Good, because you turned the same shade of red as Riddle does and I was really worried you were going to blow up at me. I’m glad you didn’t though!” you laughed, but returned to your serious state from before, “I’ll seriously stop drawing you if it makes you uncomfortable. I guess I just got in the habit of drawing things I like and-”

“It’s fine. Draw me as much as you want. Just-! Make sure you show me. Next time. When you draw me.” he refused to meet your gaze, but he saw you light up in his peripheral vision.

“Of course! Thank you so much, I’ll make it even better next time!” you nodded vigorously.

“You may take your leave now. Thank you for meeting with me.” Azul bowed his head as you left the room, humming an unfamiliar tune as you let the door shut behind you.

Azul sat in silence for a few beats.

He slowly took off his hat.

And he screamed into it.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #fluff #lots of pining #azul fluff #azul ashengrotto deserves so many hugs #azul x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader

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modelbus · 1 year ago

Text

Who else could I possibly do this for except Wilbur? And does this even count as fluff?

Pairing: Cc!Wilbur x Gn!Reader

Flufftober 28 - History has its eyes on you

Wilbur’s hunched over a map, furiously scribbling on it. The sight makes you wince. Not because he’s defiling a priceless map of the country—he is—but because of what a mess he looks like. Unkempt hair spills wildly into his eyes, glasses smudged and dirty. His usual elegance and fashion is nowhere to be seen, leaving him in simple pants and a mismatched sweater.

You’ve been at war for 131 days, going on 132, and he’s been like this for all of them. It’s what war does to someone in charge, you assume. The leader of a country that was fighting for its life.

Everyone expects your country, and him, to lose. Wilbur’s determined not to let that happen.

“I brought tea.” You announce, setting the cup directly on top of the map.

“Thanks.” He murmurs distractedly, reaching for it and taking a drink. Wilbur pauses, narrowing his eyes and looking up at you. “This is—“

“Chamomile.” You confirm for him. “You need sleep, Wil.”

“I need to be strategizing. I need to be right here, doing everything I can.”

This is a familiar routine. In the midst of war, you enjoyed these familiar things. New and old.

“You’re of no help if you run yourself to death. A nap, Wil.”

“I really should start making you call me by title.” He grumbles, unmoving.

“And I really should start just dragging your ass to bed.”

Rounding the table, you stand next to him to stare at what he’s looking at. You manage more of the financial side of things, not the actual fighting, so all the lines and marks look like nonsense to you.

“I’m thinking we need to defend here more heavily. Our exports rely on it.” Wilbur taps a city along the water with his pencil end. There’s already loads of marks around the spot. “But that’s leaving this spot open. We can fill it by delegating soldiers from here, but we’re spread thin then.”

He was going to drive himself to the brink of insanity.

“Just take a break, please.” You implore. Although you’ve been regularly bringing him meals and water, sleep is a necessity too. “A nap. Two hours. I’ll even wake you.”

“Do you have any idea how many places can fall in two hours?”

“None, because your generals are the very best. Trust them.”

Wilbur scowls at nothing in particular, making you sigh.

“Let someone else take the reins for now.” You coax, hoping you’ll be making it somewhere.

“History has its eyes on me, not anyone else. Their failures are my failures.” He retorts.

You’ve known him since childhood, yet never would’ve imagined him in this situation. In charge of a country at war.

“History can wait.”

His head snaps up, and he finally turns his entire body towards yours. “No it can’t! We’re making it right now, and we need to…”

Wilbur trails off as you wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. After a long moment he relaxes into it, dropping his head on your shoulder and wrapping his arms around your waist.

“I can’t leave my country without me.” He murmurs into your ear.

“You won’t.” You promise. “I’ll get work done while you sleep, how about that?”

“Not for long.” He argues. Somewhere along the way, this turned into a negotiation rather than begging. You’ll take the progress.

“Eight hours.”

“One.”

“Five.”

“Two.”

“Five.”

“Three, and that’s final.”

“Deal.” Three is more than you expected from him, so you’ll take it. “Now, respectfully, get your ass out of here and into bed.”

Wilbur laughs softly into your shoulder. You can feel his smile pressed against your skin, which, in turn, makes you smile.

“Just another minute of this?” He implores quietly.

“Anything that you need.”

History does have its eyes on Wilbur, and unfairly so. But you’ll make certain his name in the history books will be gilded with gold, esteemed highly.

After a deep breath, Wilbur pulls away and straightens. He gives a longing glance back at his map, one you intercept immediately.

“No.” You deadpan. “Go.”

“And here I thought I had the highest position.” He grumbles, heading towards the door. He pauses there, looking back at you. “Thank you.”

“I’m not your best friend for nothing, Wil.” You reply softly.

He nods his head, then vanishes. You look around the room, taking in the multiple dull pencils and maps. There’s maps on the floor even, making your cringe. You said you’d get work done while he slept, and you will.

But first, you’ll clean this mess up for him.

#dsmp #mcyt #mcyt imagine #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot #Wilbur x reader #wilbur x you #Wilbur mcyt #Wilbur dsmp #wilbur imagine #wilbur

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valiantphantomangel · 10 months ago

Note

Could you write a fic about Y/N being new to acting and shes really nervous about it? She feels like shes going to mess it up or something. Ler!Tom Hiddleston or Ler!RDJ (You can pick the ler!)

Nerves

"Hey love, ready to start filming?" Tom Hiddleston asked as he walked into your trailer.

"Yeah let's do this" you said with a fake smile and stand up from your bed where you were sitting on.

"What's wrong" he asked knowingly as he walked over to you.

"Nothing is wrong, I'm totally fine"

"You leave me no choice then" Sighing with fake sadness and tackling you onto the bed and prodding into your ribs.

Your giggling quickly turned into high pitched screaming laughter as you squirm around "Tom stop itHIHIHIHIHI"!!!

"No I don't think I can darling, not until you tell me what's wrong and start to smile again like you mean it" Tom said with a smirk as he leaned down and blew a raspberry in your neck.

"GHAHAHHHA NEVERHHIHIHIH" you screamed through your laughter now seeing it as a challenge.

"Never huh? We'll see about that" He switched places and tasered your sides before scribbling over your tummy.

"NHAHHAHAHAH" you throw your head back in laughter as you squirm around before doing something stupid.

You reached up and tickled his sides.

Tom let out a surprised laugh before looking down at you with the iconic Loki smirk "You shouldn't have done that" he pulled your back to his chest and wrapped his arms tightly around you before burying his face in the crook of your neck, blowing raspberries and rubbing his small beard over the side of your neck.

You went INSANE, laughing so hard that your face turned red until you were reduced down into a giggling mess which hung limply in his arms.

"Now are you gonna tell me what's wrong?" He asked as he stopped torturing you for a second.

"yeshihihihihi" you said through the remaining giggles.

He let up his tickles and cuddled you against him comfortable.

After a while of getting your breath back you spoke softly "I'm just really nervous that I'll mess up or do something stupid".

"Oh darling" Tom said with a soft and understanding sigh "There is nothing wrong with being nervous or messing something up, everyone does it because it's human nature, even the greatest actors or actresses mess up sometimes and just laugh about their mistakes because that's what they are, mistakes are simply learning curves Love".

"I know" you murmur as you cuddle against him.

"You are one of the best actresses that I've ever worked with and trust me when I'll say that you'll go far in this world because you deserve it" Tom said lovingly as he gave you a kiss on the cheek.

You guys lay there for a while before your nerves finally calmed down and it was time for filming.

And The Tom Hiddleston never let you forget how amazing you were.

#ler!tom hiddleston #ler!tom #tickle fic #marvel tickle #lee!reader #ticklish!reader #ticklish ribs #request #sweet #fluffy #marvel fluff #cuteness #marvel cast tickle #marvel cast

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dickgraysonwayne · 7 months ago

Text

Today? Yesterday?

Ao3

Summary: Of all the things to kick off a time loop…

@dickgraysonweek 2024, Day 3: DILF Dick Grayson | Apologizing To Dick | Time Loop

Day 0

Dick knows it’s bad news when the man shrieks “A curse upon you!”

He changes course mid-flip, trying to predict where he’d be hit. He feels nothing, so he lands on the ground steadily, looking up at the platform where the man stands: finger pointed in his direction and a wild look on his face.

“Whoa,” Dick says, putting his arms up. “I didn’t know we were rolling like that.”

For all he had figured, this was supposed to be a quick grab-and-go rescue of a Blüdhaven mayoral candidate. She’d made a promise to clean up the city and, of course, certain groups weren’t very pleased with the concept.

Instead, he’d run into an armed-to-the-teeth gang that were not making this rescue any easier. So, he’d opted for a more subtle approach, sneaking around on rooftops until he was able to maneuver his way into a large warehouse. He’d wandered through, found a locked room in the corner, and then—

And then he’d run into…whatever this was, and the situation turned from guns&gangs to curse&magic territory.

He really hadn’t been ready for curses.

“Okay,” Dick says, eyes darting around. He needs to get to that door. “So, um. When you say curse, do you mean a plague on both your houses lamenting type curse or may you turn into a frog type curse?”

The man doesn’t clarify. “A curse,” He screeches again. “May you never find satisfaction in validation. May you be locked in a cycle of discontent. May the one who you need the most from—”

The man squacks as he’s interrupted by a Batarang to the head. Stunned, he falls backwards onto the platform and stays there.

Dick puts his arm down. “Well,” He says. “That was more…high minded than curses usually are. Very psychological.”

He hadn’t seen any physical indications of anything actually happening, but you can never be sure with this kind of thing. He hopes that whatever this was didn’t take.

“Okay,” He mutters to himself. He wishes Roy would’ve seen this, he would’ve found it hilarious. “Let’s finish this.”

He runs towards the door probably holding the promise for Blüdhaven’s future, hoping that the rest of the day goes by without any further incident.

Day 1

They’re not even in costume when it happens.

Hell, they’re not even working when it happens.

Instead, Dick finds himself making the long trip to Gotham the next morning, called in to assist with something Tim is working on. It’s something from your files, back in the day, Tim had said over the phone. Can you make your way over?

He’d slept in a bit, hoping to enjoy his Sunday. But getting to spend time with Tim is always great too, so he had agreed to make his way over.

It had taken maybe a few minutes to explain the case (Two-Face, now that was a time), before Tim had gotten what he needed. “Thanks, Dick,” Tim says, scribbling down in his notes. “I think I just need to set up a trap, and then we’ll be all good here.”

“Need any help?” Dick asks, tapping his fingers on the table, feeling restless.

“If you’re staying,” Tim says. “I’ll be going out at, like, 2300 so. You sticking around?”

Dick shrugs. “Sure,” He says. “Since I’m here. B around?”

“Yeah,” Tim says, sitting back into a stretch. “He’s workin’ on something else, I dunno.”

“Look at you!” Dick says, messing with his hair. “Solo mission guy over here!”

“Quit it!” Tim says, batting his hand away. “I’ve been solo mission guy!”

Dick laughs. “Hey,” He says, getting off of the chair. “You wanna go get some burgers or something? There’s still a long way to go til 2300 hours.”

“Sure,” Tim says, languidly getting up. “Man, I feel like I’ve been sitting here for ages.”

And that’s when, whilst heading over to grab a burger in town, Dick tells Tim about his encounter the day before.

“It was pretty insane,” He tells him as they pull out of the manor’s driveway. “The whole curse thing made me a little nervous, not gonna lie. That stuff gives me the heebie jeebies. But I got up just fine today, everything totally normal. So either the dude didn’t actually get me, or he was talking a big game.”

Tim frowns. “That’s a little weird,” He says, taking a sip of water from his Robin branded water bottle. “You should be careful though. You never know with magic.”

Dick nods vigorously. “Exactly!” He says, making his way to the manor’s large gate. “There aren’t any rules or anything to watch out for. You just gotta wait and see for something to happen before you can do anything about it.”

Tim’s frown only deepens. “I don’t know about that,” He says. “Maybe you should go talk to Zatanna. I dunno, I wouldn’t mess with this stuff. Have her check you over or something.”

“Yeah, but it’s not even a guarantee with her,” Dick says, waiting for the gate to open. “Sometimes magic doesn’t show up or whatever even when she checks. It’s a total crapshoot. But the smart idea still would be to check anyway—”

He jumps as Tim loses his grip on his water bottle, spilling it over his lap and the seat. “Ah, shit!” Tim says, hurriedly picking the bottle back up.

“No worries, Timbo,” Dick says, grabbing some tissues from the side of the door. “It’s just water.”

“I know,” Tim says. “Even so, though, I’m sorry-”

Everything stops.

Day 2

Dick wakes up.

He blinks up at his apartment ceiling. Damn, he thinks, yawning deeply. That was one hell of a dream. He feels around on his bedside table for his phone, then blinks at the numbers on top: 08:04

Damn. Slept in.

That curse must’ve really been playing in his thoughts, to follow him into his dreams like that. Unless it was a curse about dreams, which means it was now starting to work…

Dick shakes his head. He can’t think like that. If he does, it’s never going to end.

He levers himself up, stretching again. He’s going to enjoy his Sunday morning before updating his reports on the night before, maybe figure out what to do about the whole curse thing…

His phone buzzes, and he picks it back up. Tim.

Curious, and trying to push away the ominous feeling in his gut, he answers.

Okay. So this is a little weird. But, hey. It’s not like he’s never had a dream about hanging out with Tim before. It’s a perfectly normal thing for him to do. Plus, well, he has been keeping an eye on Gotham. Maybe he’d subconsciously known that something was going on, that Tim would reach out to him for help…

And then it had gotten weirder. But. Still explainable. If he’d been keeping an eye out on Gotham, maybe he’d figured out somewhere back in his mind that Two-Face was going to be the problem…

“Thanks, Dick,” Tim says, scribbling down in his notes. “I think I just need to set up a trap, and then we’ll be all good here.”

“Hm,” Dick says. He taps on the table, feeling off. “Okay.”

“Dick?”

He looks up. Tim is looking at him, concern in his eyes. “Everything good? You seem a little…distracted.”

“Oh,” Dick says, trying to pull himself together. “Yeah. I’m good. I’m just…you know. In my head a little. There’s a whole—” He waves it off. “I’ll explain later. Um, you gonna need any help on your mission?”

“If you’re staying,” Tim says, still eyeing him with concern. “I’ll be going out at, like, 2300 or so. You sticking around?”

The Deja Vu hits him even harder. “Sure,” He says. “Hey. Is this a solo mission?”

Tim gives him a small smile. “Yeah,” He says. “I’ve been doing them for a while now. B’s working on his own thing, I’m working on mine.”

“Nice, Timmy,” Dick says, finding a smile for him in return. “Hey, wanna go get something to eat? I’m hungry. Let’s go eat.” He shoots to his feet, needing to move, needing to do something.

“Um,” Tim says, stumbling up with him. “Yeah, sure. Yeah let’s get…let’s get burgers, or something.”

Dick nods, fast walking his way out. An icy feeling grows in his stomach.

“What were you saying earlier?”

Dick starts, looking away from the slowly opening gate. “Hm?”

“You had a whole,” and Tim makes a circle gesture with his hands. “Thing you were thinking about. What was it?”

“Oh,” Dick says. “Well. Um. I had a little…run-in yesterday. Some guy yelled that he was gonna put a curse on me. And, like, I didn’t feel anything off or anything like that. But today…I don’t know. It’s all weird today. Like majorly Deja Vu or something.”

Tim frowns. “That’s weird,” He says, taking a sip of water. “You should be careful though. You never know with magic. In fact, you should probably—”

“Go to Zatanna, I know,” Dick says distractedly. “I will. I think I should. After our mission today, I will. It’s just…nothing specific, you know? Just an off feeling.”

The gate opens, and Dick quickly turns to the side. “Hey—”

He catches Tim’s water bottle, just as Tim drops it.

“Oh!” Tim says, flinching back. “Hey. Nice catch.”

Dick hands it back to him, mind spinning.

“I don’t know what happened,” Tim continues. “I wasn’t paying attention, I guess, sorry—”

Everything stops.

Day 3

Dick wakes up.

He shoots up in bed with a gasp. He throws his sheets off of him then lunges at his phone, unlocking the screen to check the day and time. Sunday. 08:04.

He falls back into bed, phone clutched tightly in his hand. Okay, He thinks, slightly hysterical. Okay. This is…this is probably the curse, huh? This is probably the curse.

What had the man said again? Something about…validation. Satisfaction in validation. And a cycle of discontent.

Well. That’s the cycle part figured, then. He’s gonna keep resetting until he breaks whatever curse this is. So, all he needs to do is figure out exactly what it is that’s going on that’s causing the resets, and he should be good to go. Right?

“Okay,” He tells himself. “Okay, what were the factors that set this off? What made me reset?”

The obvious answer, is, of course, Tim.

He thinks on this for a moment. He’ll need to tell Tim everything, brainstorm through the issue with him. He’s smart, he’ll probably help him figure this out…

His phone rings. He looks down. Tim.

He picks up.

“Hey, Dick,” Tim says. “So, I’m working on something—”

“I’m on my way,” Dick says, running to his closest to grab something. “Just gimme a—”

“Hey,” Tim says, confusion clear in his voice. “It’s okay, there’s no emergency or anything, I just need your help with something.”

“I know,” Dick says. “And I can do that. But I need your help with something too. Buckle up, it’s a weird one.”

“Time loop?” Tim says, eyes wide.

“Time loop.” Dick confirms with a nod.

Tim sits back in his chair, baffled. “Well,” He says. “The good news is that you’ve only just started on this, I guess. Maybe you won’t have to deal with it for much longer.”

Dick groans, going facedown on the table’s surface. “Don’t do that,” He says, voice muffled. “You just jinxed me.”

“Shut up,” Tim says, but he sounds distant. “What did the guy say again?”

Dick lifts his head. “He cursed me with never finding satisfaction in validation,” He says. “And told me I’d be stuck in a cycle of discontent. And then he started saying something about a person I’d need it from before I stopped him.”

“Hm,” Tim says, steepling his fingers together. “And when you went through the days with me, it reset at about the same time both times?”

“Yeah,” Dick side eyes him. “You’ve got your I-have-an-idea face there, Timbo.”

“I do not,” Tim says, making his I-have-an-idea face. “Well. I do have an idea…not a very specific one, but still.”

Dick raises an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“There’s a specific series of events,” Tim begins, “That lead to your reset. I speak with you, you come here, we discuss the case, we go out to get food, I drop my water, and then you wake up. Is that right?”

“Yeah,” Dick says. “That’s right.”

“So,” Tim says. “What if we disrupt it? We break the chain of events. And then we can see from there. It could be time related. Did we leave at about the same time both days? Did the reset happen at about the same time both days?”

Dick thinks about it for a second. “You know what…” He says slowly. “Yeah. It did. Around…12:30, I wanna say?”

“Okay,” Tim says. “So let’s stay in. And then wait for 12:30. Disrupt the chain of events, and then see if you reset or not. And if you don’t…we’ll know it’s not time dependent, and we can try to work on it from there.”

“Timbo,” Dick says, beaming at him. “That’s a great idea. You’re great!”

Tim blushes. “Come on,” He says. “Stop it. It’s just an idea. I didn’t even think about what the actual phrasing of the curse could actually mean.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Dick says, grinning. “It’s a start! And if I don’t reset at 12:30…it means we’re making progress! And maybe I won’t have to be stuck in this, which I would very much appreciate.”

Tim smiles back. “Well,” He says. “If you do reset, come find me, okay? We can pick up where we left off, and you can explain everything we’ve tried so far.”

“You’re the best, Timmy,” Dick says. He checks his phone. “I think we’ll find out soon, anyway. We hit 12:30 in about half an hour, so. We’ll know then.”

Tim nods at him. “Okay,” He says, sighing. “So. We wait.”

Half an hour passes with the speed of molasses. Dick can’t sit still the entire time: his knee jumps constantly, he fiddles with anything he can get his hands on, he gets up and paces on occasion.

Fifteen minutes in, Tim looks at him askance. “That isn’t helping you, Dick,” He says, clearly trying to be patient with him. “Sit down. Nap, or something. Wait, actually don’t. Go watch puppy videos on your phone, or something.”

“As cute as that sounds,” Dick says. “I don’t think that’s gonna help.”

Tim sighs. “You’re so fidgety,” He complains. “You must have been such a nightmare child. I feel like apologizing to Bruce on your behalf.”

“I wasn’t that bad,” Dick defends. “If anything, Bruce needs to apologize to me for not being able to manage my energy.”

Tim grins. “Well,” He says. “Can’t say I disagree with you on that.” He checks his phone. “Okay,” He says, countenance turning entirely. “Minute to go. Tell me if you start feeling weird, or something.”

Dick nods, shifting nervously. “Will do,” He says, then starts counting time in his head. 60, 59, 58…

He makes it to the last few, 4, 3, 2, 1, then braces himself.

Nothing happens.

Dick turns to Tim. “I feel normal,” He tells him. “No resetting feeling or anything going on from here!”

“Let’s wait a little longer, Tim says, eyebrows furrowed. “Maybe there’s a specific time to the minute or second to hit, and we haven’t gotten there yet.”

Dick groans. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” He says, sitting down again. “Okay. Let’s wait.”

Another fifteen minutes pass. Then twenty.

And still nothing.

Dick turns to Tim again, eyebrows raised. “It looks like I’m still good,” He says. “I think we can say that I’m in the clear?”

Tim nods. “Looks like,” He says. “So it’s not time dependent. Nor chain of events dependent. There has to be a trigger here. We have to find out what it is.”

Dick nods, tapping a finger to his knee. “Satisfaction in validation,” He mutters. “So that means…it’s something where I got validated for something? When did that happen in the previous resets?”

Tim frowns. “Let’s try to go through your day,” He says. “Specific things you did. Specific things you said. Maybe we’ll figure it out that way.”

Dick sighs, running a hand through his hair. “My memory isn’t as good as yours,” He says, running through his days in his head. “And…I don’t know, the details are kinda fuzzy. But I’ll try.”

“I know, Tim says, not unsympathetic. “It’s not easy, sorry—”

Everything stops.

Day 4

Dick wakes up.

Shit, he thinks. It’s unnecessary at this point, but he checks his phone again. Sunday. 08:04.

He taps his phone to his chin, frustrated. Right. So, it clearly isn’t a Tim-specific problem. Or, maybe it is? Maybe it’s the combination of location and person?

If that’s the case…maybe if he just doesn’t go, then he doesn’t reset.

Satisfaction in validation.

He still isn’t sure about that one. But if he can hack it by breaking the curse without figuring that out, then he’ll take it.

Anyway, if he stays away from Tim for the day, he might figure out how long it’ll let him go before it resets. Will it go on forever, until he sees Tim. Will he have to avoid him for a while? Can’t let that happen, He thinks. That would be ridiculous.

He really should give Zatanna a call. She might be able to break the curse without even needing to figure that part out.

His phone rings, and he picks up without even looking the screen. “Hey Timmy,” He says, deciding not to try to tip him off that anything was amiss. “How’s it going?”

“Hey Dick,” Tim responds, “I’ve got something here—”

“Okay Tim,” Dick says, going to get his day started (again). “If you need my help with something, I’m all in. But I’ve got something I gotta go do, so I can’t actually come over. Is it something you can send me? Promise I’ll help out.”

“Sure,” Tim says, sounding a bit taken aback. “Yeah, no worries. Thanks for the help, Dick. I’ll send it to you now. Standby.”

“Thanks, Timmy. See ya.” Dick says, disconnecting, and feeling a little bad about the whole thing. He’d usually jump at any opportunity or hang out, which Tim knows. He doesn’t think he’d hurt his feelings or anything, but he still does feel a bit guilty for blowing him off like that.

It’s for a good cause, He thinks. I’ll come by to see him when all this is over.

He thinks about Tim’s directive to come see him during the next reset. Sorry, buddy. Maybe if I reset again. So, what can he do? How does he go about solving this problem?

He gets ready, thinking about how to go about his day. Maybe I should call Zatanna, He thinks, putting his jacket on. And hopefully she’ll be able to see me now.

Dick heads out of his apartment, not having a particular plan in mind. He pulls out his phone, considering giving Zatanna that call. He scrolls through his contacts, hovering over her name, conflicted.

As he goes to open the doors to his building’s stairwell, they suddenly swing open in his direction. Startled, he steps back, just about missing being flattened by the door.

One of his neighbors emerges, almost bumping into him. “Oh my god,” The man says. “I didn’t see you there, I’m so sorry—”

Everything stops.

Day 5

Dick wakes up.

Sunday. 08:04.

He sighs, leaning back against his pillow. Take 5, I guess.

Right. Okay, so. It’s pretty clear what’s causing this now.

Satisfaction in validation. Apology.

If he receives an apology, no matter who it’s from, then his day resets.

He can’t believe he hadn’t noticed before. Both times with Tim and the water bottle, he’d apologized to trigger the time loop. In the non water bottle day, Tim’s “sorry” had triggered it. With his neighbor, the apology from the door had triggered it. Getting it from a new person had really brought it home.

So, solutions?

He sits back up, holding his phone, waiting for Tim’s call. The obvious play would be to just…not receive any apologies. While it’s easier said than done, it would definitely give him an idea of what’s going on, and help him test how far this loop is going to let him do. Could he go days, weeks, even years without an apology, then receive one and loop back around? That would be a problem.

Well. Maybe he can test it out, just for today. A no-apology-day.

The phone rings. He picks it up. “Hey, Timmy,” He says. “How’re you doing?”

“Hey Dick,” Tim responds, “I’ve got something here—”

Well. If he wants to be left alone today…

“Oh yeah, Tim,” Dick says, trying his best to remember his earlier statement. “If you need my help with something I’m ready. But I’ve got something i have to do today, so I can’t actually come over. Can you send me the files and I’ll give you a call about them later? I’d come if I could, promise.”

“Sure,” Tim says, and he sounds the same as last time, excellent. “Yeah, no worries. Thanks for the help, Dick. I’ll send it to you now. Standby.”

“See ya Timbo,” Dick says, disconnecting with a sigh. It’s more waiting, then. And this time, he’s gonna have to do it alone.

Staying away from people all day is difficult.

He knows he’s got a reputation as a people-person, but that’s only because he has the fortune to be in probably the most socially awkward family in history. He actually doesn’t mind a little alone time every now and then.

This, though? This is total isolation. And, while he’s wired and worried and anxious, is a tough thing for him to overcome.

He spends the first part of his day working on the stuff Tim sent him. He’d seen it all before, of course, but he makes sure to really pour over the information, adding a lot of very detailed explanations and analyses. He hopes this doesn’t make Tim suspicious (who is he kidding? Of course it will) but hopefully he won’t have enough time to actually act on his suspicions before Dick can hopefully move on to phase two of his curse-breaker plan.

After he sends all his notes to Tim, he finds himself left with hours and hours of time and people to avoid. Which, actually, is harder than he’d anticipated.

He spends the rest of the day from late afternoon fielding calls. As a general rule, Dick always picks up (just in case. You never know who’s using a burner). But man, he hasn’t realized exactly how many people call him until he wanted to avoid talking. After checking to see if anyone was in any immediate danger (they were not) he’d make his excuses and hop off swiftly before anyone got it their minds to give him an apology of some kind.

Not to mention the texts. And half of them aren’t even work stuff: just Wally sending him memes, or Donna sending him memes, or Babs sending him another article on the activities of the Red Hood, or Amy sending him memes, or Clark sending his weekly “good afternoon 😊” texts that he somehow manages to stick to every single week. Dick doesn’t know if apology-by-text would count here, and it is a minefield navigating conversations to make sure that the word is never sent from the other end.

“Sorry” is, in Dick’s opinion, very overused.

As for the rest of his time in self-induced isolation, he tries to keep himself busy. The TV is on, and he scrolls through all the things he’d put on his watch later list on streaming services (he watches nothing). He picks up a book he’d planned to trying (only to put it down minutes later, unable to concentrate). He tries stretching and running through some gentle warmup exercises (this one takes).

Overall, it’s not an experience he’s keen on repeating. If I make it 24 hours without looping, he tells himself firmly. I’m going to call Zatanna.

It probably would’ve been smarter to start with her, like Tim had said, but hey. The more info he can give her about how this works, the easier time she’ll have lifting it.

He makes it to the evening, and then into the night without further incident. Thankfully, Tim hadn’t tried to call him back. Nor did, to his relief, Bruce. Bruce would probably see through him in a heartbeat, and involving him in this would be a headache and a half to deal with.

As time ticks down to midnight, Dick feels exhaustion wash over him, thanks to the nervous tension he’d held on to the entire day. No he tells himself, staring at the blurry numbers on his phone. Stay awake.

Once midnight passes, maybe he can take a nap. Then he can figure out what to do next.

He rubs at his eyes, glancing at his phone again. 23:59.

Well, he’s almost done with the full day. This should give him a good idea of how this curse wo—

12:00

Everything stops.

Day 6

Dick wakes up.

Sunday. 08:04.

He doesn’t even wait for the phone call this time. Instead, he scrolls through his contacts, tapping on Zatana’s name with a determined finality.

“Ah. Well, that seems like an issue, doesn’t it?”

Dick groans, putting his head in his hands. “Yeah,” He says, voice muffled between his fingers. “It really is. Thanks for coming to help break it. I couldn’t risk going out to you.”

A hand pats his head. “No problem,” Zatanna says, sounding amused. “And, look. Could be worse. You’re, what, a week in? Not too bad. And with the myriad of curses out there? This is a pretty light one, comparatively speaking.”

Dick sighs, dropping his hands on his lap. “I guess,” He says. “So. What’s the deal here? Can you break this…whatever it is?”

“Let me check,” Zatanna puts a hand on his head and closes her eyes. Her hand glows into a warm, white light, and he feels a sense of peace wash over him…

She takes her hand away. “There’s definitely something there,” She says, sitting back down across from him. “But. I’ll tell you right now, it’s more risk than it’s worth to break from my end.”

Dick frowns. “What’s the risk?” He asks.

Zatanna shrugs. “Since I don’t know the magician, or the source of the magic,” She says. “I’d have to go with a general curse break. It would require a lot of energy from both our sides, and then you would need to keep feeding the break from your own energy. It takes too long, or you don’t have enough? Well…it would be risky, let’s just say that. It wouldn’t be worth it for a relatively low stakes curse like this.”

“Okay,” Dick says. “Yeah. I see your point. So,” He crosses his arms. “What do you think? How would I break this and resolve the time loop normally?”

Zatanna goes over to his fridge, pulls out a water bottle. “Here,” She says, giving it to him.

Dick takes it, confused. “Will drinking this solve it?”

Zatanna laughs. “It’s just water,” She says, sitting back down next to him. “You look dehydrated. Okay. I need your memory recall.”

Dick takes a sip. “Okay,” He says.

“We need to go through the exact wording of the curse,” She says. “Figure out exactly what you were cursed with, and then resolve it. Probably the best way to deal with it would be to confront it directly.”

Dick frowns. “Okay,” He says, going through the memory. “Exact wording? I went through this with Tim earlier. Um,” He thinks for a moment. “May you never find satisfaction in validation. May you be locked in a cycle of discontent. May the one who you need the most from—” He stops. “He cut off there.”

“Huh,” Zatanna says. She looks elegant even when she’s confused. “That’s…verbose.”

“Tell me about it,” Dick says. “Anyway. I think I’ve figured out what the first two parts mean. Satisfaction in validation probably refers to the apologies, because every loop occurred right after I got one. Cycle of discontent is probably the loop, because, well, I’ve been looping. The third part got interrupted, so I don’t know if it went through…”

Zatanna gives him a piercing stare. “Interesting,” She says. “Wait a moment. Let me try something.”

Dick nods. “Go for it.”

She looks directly at him, mouth curled up in a slight smile. “I’m sorry,” She says.

Dick flinches, slamming his eyes shut. A moment later, he opens them to find Zatanna still sitting across from him, eyes sparkling.

“Why’d you do that?” Dick demands, heart pounding. “At least warn me first.”

Zatanna laughs. “I know,” She says. “I needed to check something. So. It looks like the apology needs to be sincere in order to trigger the reset.”

“Oh,” Dick says. “Okay. I see what you did. So this is better, right? Just hearing sorry won’t be enough to catapult me back?”

“Yes,” Zatanna says. “I have to tell you, though. I think this just made the curse break a lot more complicated.”

Dick frowns. “How so?”

“Well,” Zatanna says. “The third part of the curse. That’s the key to breaking it. He may not have finished the phrase but he started it, which should’ve been enough to make it stick. It looks like you’re gonna have to hear an apology from a specific person, a sincere apology, in order the break the curse.”

Dick breaks out into a smile. “Thanks, Z,” He says. “Should be easy enough, right? I have to tell you, I was expecting something a lot more—”

He trails off at the sympathetic look on her face. “What?” He asks, an ominous feeling settling over him. “What is it?”

“Well,” She says. “The wording says ‘the one who you need the most from’ is the person you’ll need to get the sincere apology from. Tell me, who do you think that is?”

Dick turns it over in his mind for a moment, then…

Bruce…A voice in his head whispers. It sounds like his own, but not.

He freezes. “Oh no.”

“Yeah,” Zatanna says, exuding sympathy again. “I think we both know who that should be.”

“How do you know?” He asks, heart pounding. “Are we even thinking of the same person?”

“Oh, please,” Zatanna says. “Who else could it be? We can confirm it though. Does he dress like a bat and fight crime?”

Dick groans. “Oh my god,” He says. “How am I even gonna do that? Get a sincere apology from him? I can’t even talk to him most of the time.”

“You’ll have to, to break the curse.” Zatanna says. Dick takes another sip of water. “And remember, you only have til midnight of the same day to do it.”

“A deadline,” Dick says, despairing. “Even better.”

“Right,” Zatanna says. “So you have a plan, then? Know where you’re going?”

“Yeah,” He says. “I just have to come up with an idea…”

“You’ll probably need the full day,” Zatanna says. “So allow me, okay? Good luck.”

Dick frowns at her. “What do you mea—”

She looks him right in the eye. “I’m sorry.”

Everything stops.

Day 7

Dick wakes up.

Sunday. 08:04.

He groans, considering just going back to sleep and dealing with this again tomorrow. Today. Yesterday. Whatever.

Because, well. Getting Bruce involved? That’s gonna be a whole ordeal.

Not to mention, getting Bruce to give him a sincere apology in less than a day? Talk about an impossible task.

He might as well get started now. He’ll need all the time he can get.

The phone rings.

“Hey, Timbo,” Dick says. “How’s it going?”

In many ways, this day plays out a lot like the first one.

He shows up at Tim’s invitation, then takes him through the case that he now knows like the back of his hand. Tim’s shocked but impressed, and it’s really amusing even though he’s kind of cheating.

“Thanks, Dick,” Tim says, scribbling down in his notes. “I think I just need to set up a trap, and then we’ll be all good here.”

And here’s where the divergence has to happen.

Dick nods. “No worries,” He says. “Hey. Bruce around?”

“Yeah,” Tim says. “He’s around here somewhere, probably down in the Cave. Why?”

“Gotta talk to him,” He says, standing up. He ruffles Tim’s hair on the way. “See you later.”

He can’t tip them off. If the apology needs to be sincere, Bruce cant be aware that it has to be, or the sincerity is gone. Right?

It’s gonna be a challenge either way, and he takes the route down to the cave in a grim sort of silence.

He taps on the large wall twice as he walks in, sound echoing across the cave. “Hey, Bruce,” He says, heart pounding. “How’s it going?”

Bruce is sitting at the computer, staring at bits of data that only make sense to him. “Dick,” He acknowledges, without turning around. “Working on this. You been hearing about what’s going on in New York?”

“Hm?” Dick goes through his non-time-loop-related memory bank. “Oh. You mean…the alien incident? Yeah. Why, is that relevant to us?”

“Maybe,” Bruce says, still staring at the screen. “Possibly. There’s something there…”

He trails off. Dick is familiar with the pauses, so he waits patiently.

He’s putting it off. Time is of the essence, and he’s putting it off. But goddamn. He really does not want to do this.

The only thing he can think of doing at this point is to go in bluntly. He doesn’t have time to plan a more nuanced approach, and Bruce’ll probably see right through it anyway.

Here we go, Dick thinks, before taking a deep breath. “Bruce,” He says, and he can barely get the words out. “We need to talk, okay?”

He’s not sure if it’s the words or the tone that gets Bruce’s attention, but it works. Right away, Bruce whirls around in his chair. His focus, previously fully on the screen in front of him, is now concentrated entirely on Dick. “What is it?” Bruce asks, and he staring at him like he’s able to see right into his brain, like he’s reading through his thoughts one by one.

The weight of his attention is almost too much to bear. “Um,” He says, taking another breath. “It’s. Well. It’s kind of a long story.”

Bruce isn’t moved. “You’re sacred,” He observes, leaning closer. “What is it? What’s happened? What’s wrong?”

Dick lets out a shaky breath, trying to regain his composure. “Do you trust me?” He asks.

This probably doesn’t help with Bruce’s concern. His eyes narrow. “Why?” He asks. “What’s wrong?”

“If you do,” Dick says. “I need you to trust me on this. Um. I need an apology, okay?”

Whatever Bruce had anticipated he’d say, it was clearly not this. “What.” He says flatly, more of a statement than a question.

“I…” Dick says, feeling like he’d made a mistake with his approach. “I need you to say sorry, okay? To me.”

Bruce is, uncharacteristically, shocked into silence. He sits back, face impassive, eyes confused. “For what?” He finally asks, when Dick doesn’t elaborate further.

Of all the questions…“Anything,” Dick says, and he feels his face grow hot. “Pick something. There’s a lot… I just need a verbal apology from you, okay? And you need to mean it.”

Bruce’s face finally cracks, settling on a frown. “What is this?” He asks, voice rising. “Where is this coming from?”

“You trust me, right?” Dick says, an edge of desperation to his voice. “I need you to do this. Please.”

He thinks the plea will be enough. It isn’t.

Bruce just stares at him. “What is this?” He repeats, then: “Tell me this: how old were you when I fired you?”

Dick’s stomach drops. “Bruce,” He says. “It’s me. I’m me, you don’t need to check—”

“How old?” Bruce snaps. Dick can see his hands drift to his belt.

He exhales. “Seventeen,” He says, conceding defeat. “It was after I got shot.”

Bruce’s hands pause right before they get to his weapons. “Then,” He says. “Why are you asking this? You’re not making any sense.”

“I know,” Dick says. “But…I’ll explain later. I just need this from you. Please.”

Bruce grits his teeth. “I can’t do that unless I know..”

Dick stares at him. “You won’t?” He asks. “You’re not gonna trust me on this?”

Bruce doesn’t answer, still eyeing him suspiciously.

Dick tastes defeat on his tongue. Embarrassment, rage, and sadness battle in his throat. “Fine,” He says shortly, turning around. “I’ll…I’ll go then. See you tomorrow.”

Bruce doesn’t go after him.

Dick gets back home and goes right to his apartment, slamming the door shut as he enters.

He’ll need another plan tomorrow. Today. Yesterday. But, for now…

For now, he sits and stares at the time until it hits midnight.

Day 8

Dick wakes up.

He doesn’t even bother to check the date and time, jumping out of bed and grabbing for his clothes.

Okay. New plan. New approach. But what? Straightforward isn’t going to work. Subtle isn’t going to work. What’s left to him now? How can he possibly get Bruce to apologize to him and mean it?

He freezes in the middle of putting on a sock. Maybe…maybe he wasn’t doing enough earlier. Maybe he needs to get more straightforward. God knows Bruce can pull out sincerity when he needs it. Maybe hearing that the world is in a time loop that only he can break will do enough.

Grimly, he pulls the rest of the sock on. He’ll be able to tell Tim this way too, and maybe the both of them can convince Bruce of doing this together.

The phone rings. He grabs it. “Timmy,” He says. “It’s Two Face, by the way. Your case. You’ll just need to set your trap for tonight, and you’re golden.”

There’s a short silence, then: “How did you know that?” Tim asks, baffled. Dick can practically hear him peering at all corners of his room. “How—”

“I’m on my way, okay?” Dick says, grabbing his keys. “I’ll explain everything when I get there.”

“Time loop?” Tim says, eyes wide.

“Time loop.” Dick confirms with a nod.

“Damn,” Tim says, shaking his head. “And I told you to keep coming to me to figure this out and you didn’t? Lame. This could’ve been over by now.”

Dick huffs a laugh. “Honestly,” he says, shrugging. “You might be right.”

“How’re you gonna…you know?” Tim says, giving him a sideways glance. “Get Bruce to agree? Think cluing him in to all this is gonna help?”

“It has to, right?” Dick says, sighing. “I mean, asking him to do it didn’t work. If he knows it’s a time loop, then he’ll try.”

“But what if trying is the problem,” Tim says, and Dick stops him before he can continue.

“I know,” Dick says. “I considered that one too. But we have to try. The other way didn’t work, and if this does then we’re golden. If not…then I guess I’ll have to try something else.”

Tim rubs his head. “Well,” he says. “At least you get a bunch of do overs, free of charge. It’s not even a this-place-kinda-sucks Groundhog Day situation.”

Dick can only laugh. “Yeah,” He says. “We’re only on round 8, too. Haven’t even reached double digits yet.”

“Light work,” Tim scoffs, then stands up. “C’mon. Let’s go tell Bruce now.”

“Yeah,” Dick says, the familiar dread starting to form in his stomach. “Okay, let’s go.”

When they make their way down to the Cave, Bruce is exactly where Dick had left him. Staring at the a screen, contemplating the information within.

“Dick,” Bruce says, almost like an announcement. I know that you’re there. “Come take a look at this. You been hearing about what’s going on in New York?”

“Yeah,” Dick says, making his way over. He doesn’t look at the screen. “I couldn’t tell you if it’s relevant or not to us, though. But, Bruce. Listen. I need your help with something.”

“Hm?” Bruce says. His eyes stay on the screen, but Dick can tell that he’s listening. “What is it?”

Dick gives a side glance to Tim. Tim gives him a thumbs up. “Well,” He begins. I seem to have found myself in a…time loop situation. Groundhog Day style.”

This interests Bruce enough that he turns around, pinning Dick with a very familiar searching look. “Time loop?” He asks, then. “Report.”

“I got cursed,” Dick says, keeping it short and simple. “In Blüdhaven. I’ve completed about 7 resets so far. The loop triggers whenever I get an apology, and when the day ends. I spoke with Zatanna during one of the resets, and she told me that I essentially got cursed with needing to hear a sincere apology from…well, you. And if you do that, it’ll stop the loop.”

Bruce barely flinches. Dick’s kind of impressed despite himself. “Hm,” Bruce says, eyeing him critically. “Is this verifiable?”

“It is,” Tim chimes in. “He knew about the thing I’m working on. Knew the questions I was gonna ask him before I was able to do it.”

“Interesting,” Bruce says. “Well. An apology, you say?”

Dick shrugs. “Yeah,” He says, “Should be easy enough, right? It had to be sincere to work, though. The word itself doesn’t trigger anything. It’s more like the word plus the intention.”

Bruce considers him further. “Right,” He says, almost to himself. “Well then. My apologies.”

Dick waits. Nothing happens.

“You have to mean it, Bruce,” He tries. “Just…anything. Anything you have any guilt about. It should work.”

Bruce looks him in the eye, holds contact for a few second, then darts a glance to the side. “I’m sorry,” He says. It sounds somber, real.

Another beat. Nothing happens.

“Are you sure?” Bruce says, and Dick makes an annoyed sound. “That this is supposed to be me?”

“Pretty sure,” Dick says, already tired of the conversation.

“Why?” Bruce says. He gets up, clearly getting into detective-mode. “What did the curse say exactly? I need precise details.”

Dick sighs. “Bruce…”

Tim sidles up to him. “Dude,” He says, sympathetically. “Sorry.”

Both their eyes go wide at the same time before—

Everything stops.

Day 9

Dick wakes up.

He knows what’s gonna happen, but feels the need to check anyway:

Sunday. 08:04.

Great.

Well. He’s still chasing this Bruce angle, so he needs to up back to the manor for take 3 there. One more round of loops, and I’ll hit double digits. He thinks.

The straightforward approach didn’t work. Telling him the situation didn’t work. So he’s going to need to be more subtle with it, try to manipulate the situation into getting an apology.

Dick shakes his head. How is he going to do that, when Bruce has never apologized to him for anything big that he’d done?

Well. He doesn’t have a choice, does he? If this fails, maybe he’ll make a PowerPoint presentation of all the relevant points, and maybe Bruce will be convinced enough to apologize…

He’s getting ahead of himself. He should just try this round and see…

He grabs his phone, dials Tim.

“Hey!” Tim picks up. “I was literally just about to call you.”

“Oh, great,” Dick says, grabbing his shirt. “What a cool coincidence. I just wanted to check with you if Bruce is around, I wanted to talk to him.”

“Yeah,” Tim says. “Mind if I pick your brain before you go in?”

“Sure,” Dick says. He doesn’t want to alert Tim’s suspicions. “I’m on my way.”

Dick stops right outside the Cave, indecision burning away at him.

He needs a battle plan. If he doesn’t go in fully prepared, Bruce is gonna pry him apart in seconds.

Okay, He thinks to himself. Be friendly. Be open. Be helpful. And then…pick a fight. But don’t yell. Act hurt. And see

Oh, this is gonna go great.

Before he can talk himself out of it, he saunters into the cave, tapping at the wall twice. “Hey, Bruce,” He greets. “What’s up?”

“Yeah,” Dick says. He approaches the screen, actually looking at the information this time. “Why? Think it’s something we should look at?”

He tries to include himself in the discussion, signaling to Bruce that he’s here to help.

It works. “Maybe,” Bruce thinks. This time, he gestures to Dick to come forward. “If you look here,” He points. “The origin of these beings seems…oddly familiar.”

Dick nods, barely processing the information. He keeps looking for a way in, a way to fall into an argument. “Sure,” He says. How is he going to do this? How is he ever going to get Bruce to say sorry? “You think it’s…uh….”

The words get stuck in his throat.

Bruce looks at him. “Dick?” He asks.

His voice sounds so genuine in that moment that Dick almost can’t handle it. “I’m good,” He says. His voice cracks. “Yeah, I’m good. Just…uh. I’m good.”

Oh boy. This is going great.

Shut up. He tells himself. Pull yourself together.

He looks down at his hands. They’re shaking.

He feels himself being pushed into a chair. “Dick?” A pair of hands grabs his face, lifts it up. He sees Bruce peering into his eyes. “What’s going on?”

Dick chuckles between breaths. “Nothing,” He says, trying to get himself back under control. “I’m good.”

“Clearly not,” Bruce eyes him. “Hold on. I’m going to do an assessment.” He pats Dick’s shoulder. “Stay calm.”

“I am,” Dick insists. He’s mostly embarrassed, really. His hands are still shaking.

In no time at all, he feels his head being yanked back over the top of the chair. A bright light is shined in his eyes.

He hisses, the sudden change in position confusing him. Pain radiates through his neck. “Sorry,” Bruce says, offhandedly, peering into his face. “Need to do this. You don’t look like you have a head injury…”

But Dick…

Dick has…

Sorry…

The word echoes in his head. Did he just…

He gets a feeling like a bucket of ice water has been thrown on him. Everything around him comes into focus with a scary amount of clarity.

Bruce clearly feels a difference, because he pauses. “Dick?” He asks again.

Dick blinks. Once. Twice. “I’m okay,” He gasps. He thinks he means it this time. “I’m okay.”

Bruce had been reluctant to send him home after that.

Dick doesn’t blame him. He’d completely fallen apart right then and there and probably scared the shit out of him, so.

And, well. His panic had been clear in the fact that. That he’d apologized. And…and it may have broken the curse? He thinks? He’s no expert, but there’s only one way to find out, really.

So, Bruce’s absolute insistence that he stay the night didn’t push his buttons the way it usually would. Instead, he gives in to the pushing. He’s too tired not to.

Plus, once Bruce got Alfred involved…there was no way he was gonna get away after that.

That’s why Dick finds himself in his childhood bedroom hours later, staring at the stick-on glow-in-the-dark stars and moons on the ceiling.

Satisfaction in validation. He thinks, then. Suck it.

He should probably go back to the warehouse anyway. Can’t have the dude going ahead cursing other people willy-nilly. Next time, he’ll bring Zatanna.

Bruce apologized. He thinks. It still blows him away. He actually apologized.

Not for anything major, either. Just…just in the moment, not even thinking about it. The words slipped out, just like that. Like he did it all the time.

Dick thinks he should be feeling some type of way about that. That it should resolve at something inside of him, at the thing that’s been there ever since he was seventeen years old.

May you never find satisfaction in validation..

He shakes it off. Maybe he would feel differently if it was a bigger apology. Or maybe it hasn’t quite sunk in yet. Either way. He’s pretty sure that the curse has lifted, but he’s not gonna count it a done deal until he hits the next day without incident.

May you never find satisfaction in validation…

Dick keeps an eye out on his phone, trying his best to stay awake.

The time ticks down…

12:00.

He draws a breath, then another. He waits.

Monday. 12:01.

He drops his phone on the bed, breathing deeply. I did it. He thinks. I did it.

May you never find satisfaction in validation

He swallows all the feelings still simmering below the surface, then drops off to sleep.

#dickgraysonweek #dick grayson #nightwing #Tim drake #Robin #Bruce Wayne #Batman #speaks

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craacked-splatters · 9 months ago

Text

"I know"

"Do u want to see what I added today?"

"Sure buddy"

(insane rambling below!)

Scrapbooks! Scrapbooks! Hell yeah!!

Hello to the 5 ppl seeing this👋 Ima be real Im running on 7 hours of sleep after 5day grind brain mushy rn and I scribbled everything maniacally by memory at 3am after having one of those revelation moments so I have no idea what I'm missing lmao. This is actually the first time drawing them like this 2. Really proud of it

and B4 u ask anything hear me out.

So like tmnt2012 mutant apocalypse am I right?

Yeah it's flawed and pacings off and stuff BUT! The implications it left behind are haunting and it has been stuck in my brain for years. One of the things that stuck with me was the fact that Raph and Don had stuff like April's tessen, Mikey's stuffed bear head, The Creeps containment jar, and Casey's skull(horrifying btw) with them and that it's like :((

I fully believe it was Donnie who collected and carried them everywhere in their car. Not only for Raph(to help with this memory)but also for himself.

Why? Well maybe I'm reading 2 much into it and it's also partly a HC of mine but also bc canonically Donnie has a bit of a hoarding habit collecting trinkets and pictures and stuff. He likes to keep things around that hold a lot of significant value to him.

We see this in The Creeping Doom during the intro

AND I swear he's got a literal wall of family photos in his lab somewhere I can't for the life of me find it but I know he did! He even took some to the farmhouse with him when they escaped during the invasion.

They're memories yk? Reminders..

Ok im having difficulty expressing this shit rn words r failing so like give me ur brain 4 a sec.

Imagine ur donbot.

You're stuck in a cold metal limbo for the rest of ur last remaining family members life. Everything and everyone you knew and cared about is dead and gone. Over thousands of species and ecosystems that made ur world unique wiped out. No more animals no more wild things no more blue clear skys. Death can't come for you. Not in a way that matters anymore.

And no matter where u go you are haunted by shadows of what once was. There are so many echoes and ghosts and cultures and stories and lives that were buried & left to rot by the gaping maws of fear & the desperate need to survive. No one cares for the past and the only other person around you can't remember it. Time will claim its domain again and there will be nothing left except empty metal husks to show sentience even existed in the first place.

Like holy shit he was just a kid bro and he never got the chance to even reach full adulthood!!! I can't possibly imagine the grief and guilt he must've carried with him all those years. He lost EVERYTHING

His family. His home. His world.

Did Donnie even get the chance to mourn??? Do u think his new body allowed it? Do u think he even ALLOWED himself to mourn? He had a hurt amnesiac brother who still needed to eat, who could still starve and bleed and die if they weren't careful enough.

So between his habits and the ✨Angst✨ and human pollution, him hoarding random ass things Wall-E style and making these shitty little scrapbooks or keepsakes didn't seem so far fetched to me. I also highly doubt there was enough time or resources to build shrines or graves in the middle of apocalypse. But yk honoring/preserving the memories of the things and ppl we love is natural for us so like SORRY if its a bit cringe of me wanting him to have SOMETHING to comfort him during the really bad days.

Even if its more bitter than sweet

Bonus doodads cuz I was indecisive:

The 1st was purple tinted cuz of donbot vision get it hehehe

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read-weep-repeat · 2 years ago

Text

A Letter of Affection (1)

Summary: A letter you never thought would be read turns your life upside down.

Warnings: Age regression, use of title “daddy”, pet spider.

_____________________________

The laptop burned bright luminescence at red eyes, signaling its bitter need for rest. You ignored the woeful cries of your battered keyboard. Pages needed to be written and editors needed to be satiated so that they could take red pens and slash through ideas, plots, characters, hopes, and dreams. You were on the final page of this month's deadline, perfectly timed for a much-needed vacation.

You finished as the sun rose and pressed send just as the clock struck seven. You leaned back into the plush comfort of your couch and looked across the room.

“Hanging in there, webster?”

Webster burrowed further into her substrate, only fuzzy legs visible. The tarantula's pink toes wiggled around the dirt before finally stilling. You smiled, eyes pinned on your companion as she started to snooze.

You moved your laptop to the side and fell back into plush pillows. You had no more work, no place to be, or responsibilities to fill. Webster's water bowl was full, Editors had their new pages, and you were free to do as you wanted. You sighed. Pulling yourself off the couch, you shuffled to your bedroom. A pink box stared at you from under your bed, waiting for you to slip and fall into its contents. You obliged and slid it across the soft carpet into the living room.

—--

"He's gonna love this." You whispered.

You threw the marker cap down onto the pink rug below you, that you were kneeling on. You had on a shirt two sizes too big, a unicorn displayed proudly on the front. fuzzy pink socks covered your feet while you rubbed them together to soothe your buzzing nerves.

But what if he didn't like it? What if he threw it out? Sure, the stickers were pretty, the glitter sparkly, and the contents sweet, but what if that wasn't enough?

"He not gonna love it." You cried, fat tears welling in your eyes. You wrapped your hands around your legs, burying your head in between your knees. Your shoulders shook as you whimpered.

Suddenly, through your bleary sight, you saw a glimpse of pink beneath the table. You pulled your head out from between your knees and bent down to the floor.

An envelope! Small and pink, it stuck out from the pile of crafting supplies strewn haphazardly across the floor.

You pulled it from the pile and set it atop the coffee table proudly.

"He gonna love. Gotta love. Daddy."

You caught yourself as you stuffed the letter full of your sweet words.

"He not daddy. Don't have daddy."

You shook your head, trying to focus your thoughts as you licked the envelope.

"Don't need daddy." You grumbled, stumbling up to your front door.

You wobbled as you put on your slippers. The apartment complex had four floors, the mail drop-off box being on the first.

"Ok," You whispered, "I can do this."

"I'm a big girl."

----------------------

"Do you want to go through fan mail?" Hoseok asked, sipping a coffee as he slumped into the couch in Namjoon's office.

He looked up from his notebook. The lyrics weren't flowing like they needed to. Only a chorus had flowed from him in the 3 hours he'd been holed up. A break didn't sound so bad.

"As long as we go by the cafeteria." He eyed the cup in Hoseoks hand.

Hoseok gave him a slow nod and pulled himself up.

"Let's get going."

-----

Hoseok scoffed, tossing another letter in a pile of torn envelopes and thick pages.

"Some chicks are actually insane, man."

Namjoon hummed, fiddling with the half-empty cup. he moved the latest letter to the side, his pile a neat stack compared to Hobi's maimed mountain of parchment.

He grabbed the next without a glance and brought it forward.

A pink letter.

"Interesting." He mumbled, twirling the letter forward to see the bubbly handwriting.

“What’d you say?” Hoseok asked, sparing a glance up from scribbles on notebook pages.

"Oh, Nothing." Namjoon sputtered. He carefully opened the letter, trying his best not to rip into the handwriting.

He pulled the contents from the envelope, spraying pink glitter onto his sweatpants.

"Fuck." He whispered, brushing it away. Most of it fell to the floor, but pink sparkles still winked at him from his lap. He flipped the pages open. A scribble caught his eye.

Dear Mr. Joon!

The exclamation point was written in a blue glitter pen.

Cute. He thought. Creative. I haven't heard Mr. Joon before.

He kept reading.

Your music really helps me be small. I make things too! Big me is a writer, and my company isnt always super nice about my ideas. But I really like listening to your music, hopefully, your company is nice. I hope. Dont want you to be sad like I am sometimes. But its not like sad sad, being small makes it better. I get to watch cartoons and use a sippy and take a lot of naps. I even got special clothes!! Im wearin my unicorn shirt right now! I really like it.

Do you have things that make you feel better? I hope so. you deserve to feel nice! you seem like a really nice daddy man mr. joon. have a good day!

(y/n) (l/n)

He read it over. He read it over again.

I've never gotten a letter from a little. He mused, leaning forward in his seat. He put his chin in one of his hands and let his eyes wander to the sides of the page. Little stickers littered the edges. There were stars, pink flowers along the sides, and a small pink gemstone sticker in all four corners.

She's so sweet. He read it again. Daddy?

Does she not have a caregiver? He thought, eyes widening.

How sad. She seems like she'd be really nice and behaved. Not that brats are bad, I'd still take care of a little that was a brat. Only one as sweet as this though. He nodded to himself. Only one as sweet as this.

"You ready to go? I think I've had all I can take." Hoseok groaned, leaning back in his chair as he yawned.

Namjoon's head shot up. "Uh... Yeah." He cleared his throat. "Yeah, let's go."

As they made their way out, that pink letter crept into his pocket.

—-

“Goodnight, Hyung.”

“ ‘Night, Koo.”

Jungkook slipped into Namjoons arms. Affection was common in the family they built in dorm rooms, tours, and countless hours with no one but each other, and this was no different. Namjoon pulled away first and patted Jungkooks shoulder.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He said. His hands were on his doorknob, already twisting it open before Jungkook could respond. He barely saw Jungkooks mouth twitch before the door was shut and locked. The letter was burning a hole in his pocket, pink turning to a fiery red as he threw it onto his desk.

Why this letter? He read at least 100 others before he got to it, it shouldn’t bother him like this. He shouldn’t be writing out a reply. He shouldn’t be asking about you. He shouldn’t be writing a return address. This was his real address, what the fuck was he doing?

He kept asking himself that as he snuck down the hallway, waiting until all the lights under his bandmates' doors went dark. He knew what they’d say if they caught him responding to fan mail. They’d snatch it from his hands, lecture him, give him the silent treatment, or read it. He didn’t know why, but the latter thought annoyed him most. This was for him. She wrote to Namjoon, not BTS.

The letter made a faint thump as he slid it into the mailbox. Stickers and a small tea bag added more substantial weight to the envelope. He sighed, nerves and contentment spread along his skin and raising goosebumps.

“No turning back now,” he whispered, before closing the mailroom door.

—----

You pulled your coffee mug closer to your chest, mittened hands encasing the warm glass. It was all you could do to keep from throwing it across the room. You stared at the mail on your kitchen counter, bills and junk mail spread out around a single blue envelope.

It couldn’t be. You had kicked yourself when you realized what little you had done, but decided that it would be fine. They didn’t actually read fan mail. No harm, No foul. Right?

Apparently fucking not. Your hands shook as you put down your mug and slid off your mittens. One finger gently reached out to graze the looping scrawl of the envelope's return address. This wasn’t the HYBE office. You remembered how you searched for the fanmail address in little space, distracted by toy ads and BTS fancams. This address was entirely new to you.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as you peeled away at the envelopes. You worked slowly at the paper to not rip it. Slowly, the contents revealed themselves. A sweet, honey-scented tea bag fell onto your counter. Then, a small sheet of stickers emerged. Little blue koalas stared back at you as you giggled.

“This is so cute.” You breathed. You dropped the stickers, letting them fall onto grey granite as you pulled a smooth paper from its blue container.

You slowly unfolded it, and your breath hitched.

Dear, (y/n)

#letter mc #bts x reader #namjoon x reader #tw age regression #yandere bts x reader #yandere namjoon

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somefoxwithahat · 25 days ago

Note

Enrique nodded satisfied Fundy's answer. Shame a crying shame, very well he hope it doesn't needed to resort to this but alas Fundy force him. He needed to push Fundy a little bit. As he slowly retrieve a small audio tape. He smiled gently at Fundy as he play it. Let the show begin. As he gently scribble a few words down on his notepad.

"Do you blame yourself?" The distorted voice spoken on the audio tape. As Enrique continue to scribble down questions on his notepad. Acting he doesn't hear the distorted voice speaking.

"Well its quite common in this situation for a person to feel kind of guilt." The distorted voice spoken yet again As santos continued to act nonchalantly as he continue to write questions. Eyeing Fundy for any reactions.

"The accident." The distorted voice spoken, as the audio tape ended. Enrique smile warmly pretending to finish the new questions on his notepad. As his other hand went and slowly grabbed the other audio tape recorder and slip it back inside his sling bag. As he smiled at Fundy and spoken.

"Are you ready to continue the interview Mister Fundy?" Enrique spoken as he wait for Fundy to respond.

(God i feel so evil it was vile and stomach twisting. I'm never gonna do this again.)

Fundy looked around with confusion, trying to figure out where it was coming from. What the fuck- What the fuck- Why wasn't anyone reacting?- Why- Why- Crap- He's probably going insane or something, shit- Their breathing rapidly increased. No no no no no no no- Don't panic, don't panic, don't panic, don't panic. You can't panic, you have a job. Don't. Don't. Don't. Don't. Don't do it. No. No. No. No.

'The accident'- What- What accident- What the fuck-

No, no, no, no, no, you can't panic, can't, you can't. Please not here, please not infront of people, he can't handle that-

"You don't.. You don't hear that..?-" He asked just incase, trying to calm down his quickly rising breathing. He probably thinks he's crazy. They're just hearing things- That's all.. That... That's it.. Nothing else.. They're just hearing things.

#dsmp rp blog #fundy #fundy rp blog

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were-michael · 1 year ago

Text

Uncle

Henry Emily stared at his old friend's home. The Afton household looked dull, cold, reflecting the tragedy that befell the residents that once lived inside.

Police tape flowed gently in the light breeze. They had abandoned the investigation. Why? Henry was still fighting for that answer

The man found the door to the home unlocked, revealing the abandoned family home. Everything had been left. Like nothing had been touched.

Maybe something here could give some closure to what happened to his friend, his family and maybe even Henry's own daughter. He hated the thought but all signs pointed to William being the killer.

Henry rummaged through old cupboards, bedrooms and filing cabinets

Nothing.

That left the basement. Michael had told him William vanished in there a lot. Evan added to that, stating he heard weird noises at night from the basement

William's workshop.

The man had always claimed to have one but never let Henry see it. It worried Henry but he respected his business partner's privacy

Tense with anxiety, Henry slowly pushed open the door to the basement. The dark staircase greeting him.

The man slowly descended into the basement. He was greeted with a sight that was the complete opposite of the upper half of the house.

The place had been trashed. Paper had been made into a carpet as it sprawled over the cold, blood stained floor.

That was another thing. There was dry blood. Stained over the floor, desk and what looked liked a ruined chair

What had William been doing here?

Henry crouched down to the paper cover floor and picked up one of the loose sheets.

Scribbled notes had been written on it. Rants about something called Remnant and the diner.

It froze Henry to his core. Had the business he and William worked so hard for just a lab experiment?

He rummaged through the desk's drawers finding mainly scrap metal and random tools. An odd mess for such an organised man.

Then his hand hit something. Paper, it felt like. A stack of it. A file.

Henry pulled it out and was greeted with the word "Failed" in bold red pen.

Yet up in the corner it stated RE-001 BR

Some sort of test?

Henry placed it on the table and opened it wide. He read the first page. William was going on some rant about eternal life and how he could discover it.

Then the next page went on about animals and their Remnant, a substance William had apparently discovered. One someone could collect after the death of something living.

Then there was the diary entry

October 25th 1983

I have successfully gained some Remnant.

I harvested the substance from a bear cub that had given its life to my research. I am one step closer to my success thanks to the animal.

Now, to get the subject in place.

Henry's confusion only grew. William killed a cub before all of this and for what? Some substance he believed would make him Immortal.

Afton had always been strange but this was taking it to a new level. Henry's friend, business partner, was insane

He flipped the page.

October 27th 1983

Remnant Experiment 1. Bear Experiment.

Subject was reluctant to help. He's always been like that. Gets it from his father. Stubbornness.

He fought back but I was able to get the Remnant in place. His body accepted it nicely at first, healing anything it could.

Then the change began. He began to shift into a bear-human hybrid. It was interesting to say the least but not the result I wanted.

Do not use animal Remnant again. Michael was bound to be a disappointment anyway.

Michael? William's own son? The man Experimented on his own son?!

Henry could feel his blood boil. Not only had William potentially killed people but he Experimented on his son like he was some form of lab rat.

That's when Henry heard a noise behind him. A clang of metal.

A snarl of an animal was heard after.

The man turned to see a brown bear huddled into the corner. Shredded clothing, leftover food and a blanket lay by its paws.

It looked scared. A chain had been tied around it.

Henry could believe what he was seeing. It was exactly how William described. A Bear-human hybrid.

"Michael?" Henry called out to the creature.

The bear's ear twitched as it cried out.

"Jesus Christ" Henry gasped. "What did he do to you?"

The bear or Michael rather, sniffed the air and cried when he smelt something new. Henry couldn't imagine how long he was down here

"It's ok, Mike. It's me" Henry slowly approached the boy. "It's Henry"

Michael slowly approached and sniffed Henry's hand, crying more when he realised who it was.

"It's ok, Michael. Let's get you out of here" Henry spoke, moving to the chain. Michael carefully watched him as he unwrapped the chain around his leg.

As soon as the chain left, Michael leaned down and began licking his back leg much like how a dog would.

"There we go, Mike" Henry said softly.

Michael then let out a loud yell, making the man jump back.

Horrifyingly, the bear began morphing back into the boy. His bones and body parts cracking and reshaping.

There, laying in front of Henry, was a scared bare Michael Afton.

"Holy shit" Henry gasped. He quickly took off his long coat and wrapped it around the teen.

Michael looked up at Henry, tears staining his eyes.

"It hurts" Michael began. "It hurts so much, Uncle Henry"

His voice was harsh, dry, and painful. He sobbed.

"I just want it to stop" Michael cried. "Why me? Why did he do this to me?"

Henry pulled the teen into his arms and was quick to console him.

"You're ok, Michael. I've got you. You're safe now, ok? Ill take you home and I'll watch over you" Henry spoke. "Is that alright?"

Michael nodded almost instantly.

"Come on then. Let's get you home"

#five nights at freddys #michael afton #werebear #micheal afton #wereafton au #wereafton #henry emily

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ticklishshenanigansau · 2 years ago

Text

Sleepover Shenanigans - Part 2

Mod Yosh asked me if I would expand on her Sleepover Shenanigans story, and I finally got around to it! - Kitty

[Part 1] by Yosh Based on [this picture] by Secret

It could still all be just a prank. He managed to glimpse the shining numbers on the alarm clock beyond the horde of toothy grins. Only barely past midnight — there was no way their interest wouldn’t fade in an hour at most.

The legion of fingers landed; scribbling, squeezing, pinching, raking. The swarm of physical sensation was overwhelming enough, but the accompanying flood of intent was a new layer of panic-inducing torment entirely — a mix of voracious appetites probing him for reactions, chipping at his blasé mask.

Sans bucked and twisted with a squeal, but there was nowhere to go, his small frame pinned by legs and magic. “wahaaaaaiiit—! aaahaaa! ohgahaaa—aaaahahaaaa!” Despite the onslaught, it wasn’t at all hard to pick apart the people behind the techniques.

“FFffuhuu—! Dang, Sans, you are INSANELY ticklish!” Undyne laughed boisterously, scratching roughly all over his ribs, quickly leaving the unfortunate skeleton nearly breathless already.

“That’s why he tries to keep it such a secret,” Papyrus commented with a bit of a snicker as his familiar, pointed fingertips traced the weak points under Sans’s arms.

Frisk’s soft hands squeezed at his spine with malicious purpose, fingerpads poking between his sensitive vertebrae. “Hehe, just like he keeps it secret that he thinks it’s fun, right?”

“H-he likes it?” Alphys asked, slightly shocked, her shyly skittering claws at his feet faltering.

“noho no!” Sans protested, wishing he had the power to wipe the silly, wild grin off his face. He knew how to present an intimidating front, and there was no way he could pull it off like this.

“While it is impressive you are still able to resist, there is no longer any need to fight so hard, brother,” Papyrus pointed out. “The challenge is over, and you are free to laugh to your SOUL’s content!”

Sans was getting used to letting his guard down with his brother, sure, but his former captain? His science study buddy? Even the human knowing how vulnerable he was to this was a bit unnerving in its own way. Besides, he’d done a pretty decent job overcoming even half the dare — which now that he thought about it was incredibly slanted against him compared to the rest of the playful challenges that had gone around. That had to count for something, right?

“ahee made it through five rounds, ghh~haahaa—! sh-show some mehercy…!” he entreated, turning his head from one side to the other.

“For warriors, it’s all or nothing, punk!” Seeming to double down, Undyne rubbed fiercely at the sides of his ribs, prying a frenzied howl out of him.

“aaaaaaaaaahaaaaahaaa—! ahaaa! staahaaap ohstop!” Almost nothing could make Sans fight harder than strong gargalesis against his ribs, instinct blaring from his very core to protect himself. Yanking on his limbs, he actually came close to unseating the smaller of his companions.

“Ahh—! M-maybe you sh-shouldn’t be s-so rough with him, Undyne,” Alphys chided gently.

“Psh. If he’s not passing out, he can take it!”

“U-Undyne….”

“Ugh, whatever. You got lucky, this time, Sans.” Slowing her speed, she switched to a surprisingly mild kneading massage.

“hahhhh….! ahhaaa….! khh~hh!” A little wheezier after the harsh attack eased up, Sans suddenly found himself unable to hold back anymore, his defenses shattered too far to even hope to pull back together while they all continued to tantalize his magical nerves. “heheeeaa! ahahaa! nnhn~! aaahaahaa!”

“Can we do the last round of Truth or Dare?” Frisk asked, moving from Sans’s spine to his hips. “It was supposed to be my turn to ask someone next.”

“I do not see why not!” Pleased to see that his brother was starting to give into the sensation, Papyrus agreed to the request cheerfully. “I believe everyone exhausted their truth eligibility, so whomever you ask must complete a dare!”

“Yay! Okay, Alphys, I dare you to make Sans say something really embarrassing, hehehe.” The child giggled mischievously.

Even through his current duress, Sans still managed to be somewhat startled. But of course, he’d made Frisk say silly things through time-travel shenanigans. It stood to reason a little revenge was in order. Not that he really minded saying anything really goofy, especially if it got a chuckle out of someone.

And maybe he’d be able to escape after this….

“Oh, hmm….” Alphys looked down in thought, then smiled, taking inspiration from her Kissy Cutie printed pajamas. “I want S-Sans to proclaim his love for tickling—”

All said skeleton’s thought processes stopped.

“—just like how Mew Mew proclaims her love for snail ice cream in the beach scene and just gushes about how it’s so good even though her friends thinks it’s really odd, but they don’t actually mind because they’re all so close and don’t mind each other’s differences and—”

“nahat a chance in h-hehell!”

“Fuhuhu…. Make Sans say it, or you’ll be joining him,” Undyne warned in a low tone.

“M—!... M-me…?” Alphys squeaked, then gulped, shuffling with a blush flaring across her face. But in another second, her lids lowered and she grinned. “I kn-know what’ll get to him….”

The wandering fingers retreated for the moment, but Sans felt no relief as everyone's interest piqued. Alphys's tail was already whipping past the doorframe before he could make use of the break to stall her – the lizard monster could move fast when she was excited. "hh–! nnmh….” Mustering a pout, he tilted his chin back, looking at Papyrus above him.

Do I really have to do this?

Gloved fingers gently patted the crown of his skull, his brother breaking away from shared conspiratorial chuckles, heeding Sans’s unspoken question. Cheekbones perked, his expression somehow combined radiant, innocent joy, with a sly, questioning squint.

Do you really not want to?

Sans quickly broke eye contact, SOUL fluttering in his chest. What he really didn’t want to do was confront the truth….

Shuffling back into the room, Alphys was now cradling something clearly mechanical in her hands. Sans jolted as he noticed bristles jutting from one end of the thing.

“What’s that?” Frisk asked curiously before anyone else could.

“It’s a scale p-polisher.” She ran her claws through the brush. “Soft, but also f-firm, for exfo-foliation, ahah…. And it goes up to twelve r-p-s!”

"gh–!"

Undyne's brows scrunched. "R-p-s? What kind of nerd talk is that?"

"Oh! It st-stands for 'rotations-per-second'," Alphys clarified. "That means the brush sp-spins fully around twelve t-times in a single second."

"Only twelve!? What a slacker! You want me to whip it into shape for you?"

"Trust me, this will be p-plenty." Seeming in a rare self-assured mood, Alphys settled herself down on the floor beside Sans, her tail curling up around herself. The tip wagged a bit. "Frisk, can you bunch up his knee and hold it st-steady for me, please?"

"Hehe, okay!"

"hey, hey! get off!" Sans cringed, fruitlessly fighting against the hold on his leg. His brother may have been prominently pinning him – magically and physically – but Sans still felt a bit pathetic that he couldn't hold his own against a mere child. Especially in front of Undyne.

“I-if you admit it now, I won’t use it….” Alphys hovered a thumb over the power button.

“...nothin’ to admit.” As if any of them were going to let him evade a torturous working over at this point.

“It seems my brother likes tickling SO much that he WANTS you to use it!” Papyrus cheerfully chimed in.

“pap!”

“Ehehe, w-well, if that’s the case, then….” The room was filled with a noisy drone as the brush head began to spin, whirring faster until it reached peak speed. And then Alphys pressed it to his knee.

Sans’s leg jerked, the rest of his body instantly contorting. "gghrrgg! aahaa! oh noho! ghh–! haaa~ahah! get ahaff!" Getting hit with such a strong shock of sensation instantly put Sans on edge. He couldn't distinctly make out the rotations with how fast the brush was moving, but the sheer force and vibration of the tool was horribly overwhelming. “hnnn–! aahahaa! aahahaha!”

He was saved any further protests as the machine suddenly powered down, though the buzzing was still ringing in his ears – and worse, deep tingles continued to wrack his knee.

“Hey, why’d you turn it off? He hasn’t confessed yet!” Undyne pointed out, clearly unsatisfied.

“That was just a warm up. I was t-testing to make sure it actually would tickle h-him, ehee…”

“hehh, c’mon…,” Sans panted. “ya hardly needed t’ prove that i’m weak in the knees….”

A disgruntled noise burst from the younger skeleton monster, and he glared down at Sans. “...Alphys. Destroy him.”

“Oh, I will, but first, I n-need Frisk to climb on both his legs now, a-and Undyne, you should probably hold his ankles.”

“Like this?” “Hell yeah!”

“P-perfect!” Now, knowing the true power she held, Alphys went for the ribs.

“ohgaahaa–!” For a moment, the wind was knocked right out of him, pressure building up in his chest until he exploded into screaming laughter. “aaaaahaaahaa! naaaaaaahhahahaa~aaaaaahh!” He couldn't have been louder if she'd been wielding a power saw. "ahaahaaaal! al! ahal! al! staaaahahaaahaaaaa–!!"

"Oh, no, is it hurting him?" Frisk asked in concern, now hesitant to hold onto the thrashing skeleton.

"He's just fine!" Papyrus assured. "He's saying 'Al', not 'ow'!"

“ahee’m sahayin’ stahahaaap!” Sans managed to wail coherent words. “aaaaahahaaaa! s-sahahaave me, kid!” he begged the only one who seemed slightly sympathetic to his suffering.

Seeing that Sans was ultimately all right, or at the very least not dying, Frisk giggled with a head shake.

“Say that you like it, Sans!” The lizard monster was truly engrossed now, tilting the polisher against the curves of his torso with an increasingly heavier hand.

"ghgg–gkh! nonononahaahaaaaaa!!" he defiantly howled.

"And here you were scolding me for going all out on this punk! You're ruthless!" Undyne relinquished one of Sans's ankles to lightly clap Alphys on the shoulder, hand lingering and raising to a poised claw. "Or … you're just that determined to not face the same consequences…"

Beads of perspiration broke out over the scientist’s temples, and she stuttered out an unintelligible rush of squeaky syllables. The looming threat spurred the familiar feeling of working under pressure; now the only thing that mattered was getting results.

Hardly about to get enough breath before, Sans wheezed thickly as Alphys's intent strengthened against him. The polisher was so much more devastating than he had imagined, attacking him with perpetual, revolving motion that seemed to penetrate to his marrow. But still, as long as a speck of dignity remained to his name, he could not bring himself to say what they all wanted to hear from him. Literally, he couldn't anyway, as any word he tried to form now was lost in strained gasps that could hardly be recognizable as laughter anymore were it not for his expression of coerced mirth.

Papyrus leaned forward towards his current tormenter, a hand to his mouth while he whispered something that Sans couldn’t quite make out. Which was saying something because, great as he was, Papyrus was terrible at keeping his voice down. Sans could hear the tool’s buzzing straight in his skull, so that wasn’t helping either.

Mercifully, Alphys switched the polisher off, just as Papyrus sat back upright with an encouraging smile. “Let him go for a moment!” his brother ordered, and soon all the restricting hands and magic were off of him.

“...ohhhhhh….” Sans groaned out the shape that he was curling up into. His torso throbbed everywhere that the brush had touched, tingles seeming to float and bounce inside his chest cavity.

Expecting a bit of respite, Sans jumped as tentative claws traced over his thoroughly sensitized ribs.

“T-tickle tickle! Hehe!...” It wasn’t hard for Alphy’s to keep up with his pathetic attempts to protect himself. Though not pinning him, she hovered closely enough that he could catch a whiff of her New Mew brand bubblegum-scented lotion. "Tickle tickle tickle!" His ears rang with the teasing word, making his SOUL flutter and jump.

Through squinted watery sockets, he could make out a genuine toothy smile through the glow of her blushing magic, and for a moment – with all of his senses so full – he forgot everything else. Giggling under the fingers of his friend, he was just Sans; Sans the ticklish skeleton.

“ohho! aahaha! stahappit!” he gasped out breathlessly, rocking in place with a large, goofy smile. “ohho~ahahahaa! haa~haha, ahee can’t take this!”

Papyrus snickered. “Wow, brother…. That would be SO much more convincing … if you were actually TRYING to get away.”

“hck–!” Sans could feel all the magic rushing to his cheeks – burning in his chest along the way.

“Yeah, no one’s holding you down anymore!” Undyne reiterated the obvious, just to rub it in.

Alphys laughed in nervous relief, no longer feeling quite so doomed. “C-come, on, Sans, it’s really obvious now, s-so just admit it, ehee….”

Hands rising to hide his eyes, Sans gulped and whined as he caught his breath, finally sputtering, “i…. i reh~heally … love….. h-hheh….”

He could feel all four of them bending closer with bated breath, as if even an exhale would chase away his admission.

"i … love…. snail ice cream too." Sans blew out a sigh, sliding his hands down to reveal his terribly amused expression. "phew! ya'know i'm really glad to finally get that offa my chest, eheheh!"

The others remained in an even heavier silence than before, eager anticipation replaced with shock and a boiling indignation.

Sans could even swear he saw steam rising from the Captain's ears.

“ATTAAAAAACK!” Undyne screamed, shoving Alphys down beside Sans, the lizard monster’s shrieks joining his through the rest of the night.

#Undertale #Sans #Papyrus #Undyne #Alphys #Frisk

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faint-petrichor · 7 months ago

Text

I couldn't resist the opportunity. I'd played Alan Wake, so for a moment I became worried I might be an instrument in some supernatural scheme. Instead I said fuck it, and picked my pen back up.

"All wars ended, poverty abolished, climate crisis averted, fully automated luxury space communism achieved. Humanity enters a neverbeforeseen era of peace, discovery and flourishing."

Then I took the book and burned it, with the hopes that would be the end of it. At first, nothing happened. My friend wouldn't stop yelling at me, waving his arms around and running himself out of breath. I stood still over the fireplace, gazing past the fire. My pulse was red hot and there was a pit in my stomach. Was I really so arrogant to think I could save the world with a few scribbles on a page?

"Look buddy I know you got big ideas, but isn't that a bit fuckin reckless? I've seen the movies, I know how this shit goes. There's always a catch! Always!

The monkey's paw is gonna curl on us and it's all gonna go to shit. Couldn't you just have asked for a car or something?"

A few days passed and nothing seemed to happen. Then months, and then a year. Everything seemed to be going the way it always had. At least I didn't set the world on fire, I thought. I started to doubt the whole thing, maybe we were both wrong that night. I'd spend all day doing nothing but checking every news source I knew for a shred of a hint. Years went by this way, and I'd whittled myself away to nearly nothing.

I hadn't heard from my friend since that night. He sort of just vanished off the radar, left his wife and kids and everything. We did everything we could to find him, but there wasn't a trace. In distress I confessed to his wife it was probably my fault. I probably would have been tried for murder if she didn't think I was insane.

But then, he called me.

"Hey Charlie, we're doing it man! We fuckin did it."

I didn't know what I was hearing, I thought I was dreaming. I was nearly sure I was, as much as my confidence in reality had deteriorated these years.

"What?"

"It's me, Gio, man! Look, after that night I had an epiphany. I thought ok, maybe the world's gonna burn down—but what if it doesn't? What if this shit just keeps going day after day while I sit around worrying about it doing nothing? So I packed my shit and joined the revolution.

No no no, I'm serious. We've been fighting the feds and the cops for years.

Of course you didn't see it on the news! You think they'd let people know real shit's going down? No way. Just shooters this, vandals that. We seized the fuckin capital man. We're gonna dissolve the US and put up a provisional government.

No I'm not fuckin with you, listen! Something happened that night. Not just to me, seems like a bunch of people. We all had the same epiphany. I don't know if it's some woowoo shit with that book or what, but it happened. We were turnin out numbers left and right. Next thing you know, there's a real movement. It was like electricity, man. I tried to contact you but you never answered."

It felt like the world was closing in around me. But it turned out everything he was saying was true. It didn't happen smoothly, but one thing after another, it all started coming true. A decade and many losses later, war was over. With the international people's republic established, humanity was now free to prosper. First came the advances in energy, medicine and production. Then the advances in space travel. I wound up retiring in a cozy little colony orbiting Mars, something I only dreamed possible as a child.

The only thing I regretted was sitting back doing nothing. Gio never let me hear the end of it with all the tales of his war days—He left out the part where he lost an arm and a leg. I was content to spend my days caring for him and writing stories to teach the next generations. It was the least I could do... No, it was what I wanted to do.

“Please stop writing! The very next thing you write will actually happen!”

#azazaza #writing

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buraisu9009 · 10 months ago

Text

(WHAT IF "VENOM" BECAME "CARNAGE"?)

So if you read the title you're probably a little bit confused but I promise it'll make sense as everything goes on but welcome any and all to the viewers of the Multiverse as we asked the wonderful question of what if.

In this story, we're going to be asking the question What if Venom became Carnage

Cletus Cassidy is by far one of the most ruthless and evil super villains to ever exist in the Marvel Universe, and he became even worse when he bonded with the Carnage symbiote It would have events that occurred differently what if Cassidy had bonded with different symbiote would he be just as ruthless or perhaps would have been transpire in such a way the but not only caused Cassidy to well have to rethink his life choices but also give rise to a brand new type of hero Let's dive deeper.

Ravencroft Penitentiary was home to some of the worst of the worst most people came to this Asylum looking for help hoping Beyond hope that perhaps with time their minds would be able to heal and they'd be able to rejoin Society at Large however one of these inmates saw the entire thing is just a giant joke in fact he didn't plan on getting quote unquote well at all no the only thing he was thinking about was how easily you would be to just break out of this cell and start killing every single person he could lay his hands on and then once he got out all the delicious decorative ways he'd be able to assemble his victims in his grotesque sense of Art.

That was the mind of Cletus Cassidy even from a young age he wasn't exactly well in the head I just aged seven he pushed his grandmother down the stairs and took her life at age 10 he took the life of his beloved pet and throughout his teen years he was in and out of juvie may or may not have caused the death of both of his parents and then began a life of crime systematically becoming one of New York's most notorious serial killers. Yet Dr Kafka one of the leading Physicians and psychologists here at ravencroft was hoping that maybe she could get through to what little Humanity had taken root in the man yet every time she tried it was met with little to no success every single session Cassidy would either just ignore her try to kill her or just laugh about the entire thing.

" you don't get it do you doc, you see there's nothing wrong with me nothing at all I'm as healthy as a horse and a insane of Mind as a newborn baby and speaking of a baby I think that maybe just maybe once you give birth to yours I'll strangle you with the umbilical cord maybe then we can have a more tempting discussion".

Kafka held her pregnant belly as if that would somehow protect her from the madman. With each passing discussion it just got worse and worse until eventually Kafka had to walk away signing Cassidy over to another physician and even stating that perhaps there was nothing to save as a doctor Kafka felt like she was giving up on Cassidy but there was a difference between trying to save a human being who was regretful and wasting your time trying to redeem a monster. Little did Dr. Kafka know that when she left that night, she was not only saving her life but the life of her child as the Asylum would face its worst experience in its existence.

Cassidy was doing what he always did at night, scribbling on the walls and thinking to himself about all the ways he was going to kill someone he heard a loud crash just outside his prison window.

Curious he peeked his head out of what he little he could see through the bars apparently the Shockwave was so loud that it alerted all the guards and other inmates in the prison several going out to check what had happened. Just outside the Prison Walls, a small meteorite had crashed landed, and the landscape still scorched burning around it. A few of the guards carefully observed the area.

" think it's Radioactive?"

" Don't know whatever you do, don't touch it, still hot."

But as the guards contemplated what to do with the space Rock Cassidy began feeling strange something was on his hand that on his arm then going down his body and For The First Time in Forever he began hearing a voice a very tempting voice.

"Cassidy, we could help you Cassidy together we can help everyone relieve them of this card snowflake become one with us. We will bring Carnage throughout this land~

Cassidy cackled as he heard this.

"Hahahaha well well finally something who's speaking my language I think you and I are going to get on like a house on fire my friend but together I usually prefer working alone I do my best work like that but I think in this case oh I think I can make an exception"

And just like that, Bone's broke body reshuffled Cassidy screams feeling Halls of craving Croft as his body was more or less torn apart and restructured to the strange Invaders liking.

Soon, guards burst into Cassidys cell to see what was going on.

" Cassidy, what's going on in here?!"

"Hahahahaha, Cassidy is gone, long gone~, but you can call us, Carnage!"

Black tendril shot stray through several of the guards that had entered the cell scoring them as the black creature tossed them aside and began making its way through ravencroft there was a Slaughter any inmate or guard that dare given the creatures way was quickly done away with bones broke bodies being flung in every which direction Carnage in His Manic sense of laughter even tore certain cells open just to get at the inmates inside that were cowering in fear Cassidy was a monster on his own but now with this Invader from the Stars latched on to him he was even more dangerous than ever before perhaps not just a New York but to the world.

But it is manic Slaughter he didn't realize that subconsciously the Symbiote was beginning to rethink what it had just done it thought that it was saving Cassidy didn't even believe some of the words that it was saying what it latched on to him it didn't come to earth-seeking slaughter it simply came here to hide but now it was latched on to a maniac it had to do something anything in order to stop him but it was too late now the symbia was already weak when it had bonded to Cassidy it didn't have enough strength to control him if anything Cassidy's manic state of mind and his own willpower was keeping the Symbiote contained but it could do one thing in order to fight back.

Thus Cassidy begin slaughtering his way through ravencroft the Symbiote using what strength and willpower it had left replicated itself and sent it spawn far away from ravencroft having it latch on to one of the guards with only one instruction go far away seek help find someone who can kill Cassidy. Luckily when the spawn latched on to the injured guard that Cassidy had just skewered through the chest and managed to save them not permanently the guard was going to die the Symbiote was the only thing keeping him alive but he would last long enough in order for the Symbiote to find some help and thus it stumbled out of the broken prison with the screams of Slaughter far behind it.

Months would pass the story of the slaughter of ravencroft would spread quickly throughout New York saying that some kind of black Jagged tooth monster ravaged the entire prison much of the inmates and Guardsmen were slaughtered the only inmates that wasn't accounted for was one Cletus Cassidy now the entire city was fearful that Not only was this monster on the loose but one of the worst serial killers in its history was also out there somewhere.

Peter Parker couldn't help but find the entire thing disturbing as he read the newspaper on the way to school. His Uncle Ben had always instructed him to be wary of people to always make sure that when you have power you use it for the right reasons otherwise we can become something ugly something monstrous like that of Cassidy.

Peter though was quickly taken out of his inner thoughts by his girlfriend chat coming up behind him and giving him a hug she was worried about Peter asked a few weeks have been a little Troublesome for the young man just not in the way that you would suspect. Peter was a bright kid you had Straight A's in school he often helped tutor the more popular kids that honestly couldn't do a paper to save their life and he always tried to do right by people yet unfortunately has he put it the good old Parker luck kept catching up with him seem like every other day the biggest jock in the school Flash Thompson would shove him in a locker steal his gym clothes and one time he even pushed Peter down the stairs Parker nearly broke his arm in the process.

Peter felt alone at school for a long time hell there was some days he didn't even want to go back and what reason did he have to other than his education the only friend he did have there was Harry Osborn but ever since he and his family moved to Europe I'm just kind of seemed pointless. Then like a guardian angel coming down to save him he just happened to run into chat one morning literally ran into her while he was trying to catch his bus despite the awkward and somewhat painful first meeting the two got on pretty well both were kind of outcasts kind of did their own thing they bonded over that eventually one thing led to another and chat being the independent type was actually the one to ask Peter out, to which he accepted.

As time went on Chat even began to view Peter's house is somewhat of a second home, she got on great with uncle Ben and aunt may, especially with may whenever she let her help her in her garden which was her pride and joy. She especially loved helping and may feed the squirrels and birds that would frequent her garden, though she would also have to help me make sure that the squirrels have been snatched all the produce before I could grow fully

All in all, Peter and Chat looked out for one another, but on this day Chat could tell that there was something going on in the young man's mind. Peter was just out of it lately is Uncle Ben had just recently come down with a really bad illness despite everything they tried the doctors couldn't figure out what was wrong with him and it was putting a lot of pressure on both him and his aunt not only that but school didn't exactly help usually Peter would see it as a distraction but flash just wouldn't leave him alone. Chat hated how flash seemingly picked on Peter for no reason, a couple od times she even got in the middle of the two, once getting a black eye becuase of it bit, she didn't care, she wished Peter would fight back, teach Flash a lesson.

My mom in the back of his mind Peter would love nothing more than to give flash a piece of his own medicine he also remembered what his uncle always taught him when you have power use it wisely defend yourself but never attack, and he would honor his wishes.

Luckily for the young couple they would get the relief and somewhat distraction they were both hoping for as the school was planning a field trip to the local Museum today and with any luck Peter would be able to get some distance from Flash and maybe even asked some of the school staff if they knew any way that his uncle could get some help.

So is the two boarded their school bus and then the rest of the students piled in no one realized that other occupants was surveying the area the Symbiote that it escaped the prison Slaughter was still bonded to the security guard but the guard was losing energy quick the symbia wouldn't be able to sustain itself on the guard for much longer it had to find a new host or it would die too get us the bus drove off into the distance it could sense something it wasn't like Cassidy not the same chaotic energy but something pure understanding almost it wasn't able to follow the bus on foot but it might be able to follow it back to its source.

The rest of the day played out fairly normally the field trip was a welcome distraction Peter got pretty enthusiastic explaining to chat how the giant telescope in the museum worked and well chat didn't exactly understand everything that Peter was talking about she still was happy that at least he had a smile on his face for the first time in a while.

But that night when the two came back to the Parker residence it was quiet really quiet Peter looked around and eventually found a note on the fridge unfortunately his uncle had gotten worse and on May I decided to take him to the hospital to get checked out there was dinner in the fridge and hopefully both of them would be back by morning if not they would call.

This just sent Peter into another Spiral he was already worried about his uncle, and now he was even more so. Chat decided to stay with Peter to keep him company, and the two settled in. Peter decided to go to bed early he wanted to stay up, but he just couldn't keep his eyes open. Chat decided to stay up in case his aunt or uncle had called. Is Peter latest head on a pillow sleep quickly caught up to him? What he didn't realize is that there was something else in the home with them.

The symbiote had managed to follow Peterson back to his home it watched both his aunt and uncle leave it would have followed them but it couldn't sense the same presence from the two they were Noble sure but he could tell that both were elderly and one was not in good condition so I decided to wait and see if the same presence of felt would come back but the guard's body eventually gave out and now the Symbiote was left without a host luckily the presents it felt Peter's presence had returned to the property symbiote didn't have any other option maybe it was making a rash decision but it had never felt presence like this granted it only had been alive for a couple of months but at this point it was either Bond or die.

So how's Peter slept the Symbiote slowly and carefully began bonding to the young man but as it did Peter began to have strange dreams he heard screaming so monster tearing apart everything and everyone around it and then it stared at him cold white lifeless eyes looking back at him soon the creature morphed into the form of Flash Thompson he began spouting off names calling Peter weak saying that he'd be nothing that he was nothing and that he would always be nothing Peter eventually screamed out in his sleep and in his shock and anger he soon realized that not only had he woken up he was now standing on the ceiling.

Chat had heard Peter scream out and ran up the stairs to see what was wrong. Then she opened the door and was completely shocked to see her boyfriend standing on the ceiling

Both teens were completely freaked out and didn't know what was going on but, in the Symbiote rush to find a host, it didn't realize that by doing so, it would have a serious consequence. Cassidy had been slowly making his way through the criminal underworld killing off big names and making a name for himself it wasn't just about righteous Slaughter anymore after all if you kill everyone in the world who's around to appreciate your work no no no no he was going to make sure that everyone knew the name Cletus Cassidy but as he was tearing through some magia Safe House he suddenly sent something a presence that was similar to his own he couldn't quite place it and didn't even fully understand it but one word kept ringing out in his head, Threat!

" ooh now what's this some pray finally decided to grow a pair and challenge me well this just got a lot more interesting let's see if we can find you shall we" he then dumped the body of a torn apart Thug and jumped a nearby window to find his prey.

Back at the Parker residence, Peter and Chat were trying to figure out how to help Peter had been able to stand on the ceiling neither one of them had any sort of solution Peter being the scientific type was going through every idea or explanation in the book but there was no explanation there was no way, it didn't make any sense. But as the two continued to try to figure out what to do, the Symbiote that it bonded to Peter suddenly sent something that monster the monster from the prison it was coming?!

The Symbiote took control briefly as Peter without even realizing what he was doing tackle chat out of the way as the monster burst through his bedroom wall.

The two were absolutely terrified as they stared up at the creature that was looming over them large bulky, completely black jagged tendrils coming out of its body large razor-sharp teeth in the form of a smile.

"Hahahahaha well well what's this have I interrupted a little lovers moment oh I do so enjoy young and makes it so much more delicious when I tear them apart the screens are Symphony to my ears but that's not good ahead of ourselves I'm looking for something kiddos and I think from the smell of it it's in this room so where is it" the monster growled as if morphed ots hand into an axe.

"W...where is what?! What are you talking about? There's nothing here I didn't do anything" Peter stammered out. Chat too in shock to say a word.

" are you talking boy so you do have a voice good" the creature grabbed Peter by the neck and squeezed, threatening to snap his neck like a twig.

" now I'm going to ask you only once where is it, where's my prey?!"

Chat was terrified yet a part of her was also Furious that this creature was manhandling Peter just like flash had done almost every day for the past few months something inside her snapped has she screamed with all her might at the creature.

"LET HIM GO!!!!!!"

The Shear force of the scream caused Cassidy to stumble back and pain but then yet another strange occurrence happened as every single window in the Parker household began breaking and soon the door of the room flew open as flocks of birds bats bugs and every other sort of night time creature flew straight at the monster doing everything they could to tear him apart. Chat and Peter huddled together as they watched the chaos unfold. Cassidy fled outside and into the street doing everything he could to get the creatures to go away soon and oncoming car came straight at him and in his rage he picked it up and swatted at the creatures eventually causing them to disperse before throwing the car at a nearby house it exploding soon after.

Those Peter in chat were utterly terrified just huddle together in the remains of Peter's bedroom as they waited prayed for morning to come.

Eventually it would but the hits they wouldn't stop coming. Because it turned out that the very same car that the creature had picked up to defend itself was the car that held both Peter's aunt and uncle returning from the hospital and when said creature threw the vehicle with the elderly couple inside and into the nearby home it claimed them both.

Was in a single evening Peter had lost everything his home was torn apart his aunt and uncle were murdered and he was powerless to do anything he felt weak useless those same words that flash had threatened with and those dreams he began to believe them as he stood looking down at his aunt and uncle's Graves trying to find answers but there's no answer to have there was nothing he could do.

Chat didn't feel much either she hated Peter like this not that she could blame him he lost so much but at the same time she was also racking her brain as to what had happened that night not only with Peter but with herself how did she scream like that and what was with the birds were they answering her?

She didn't know. She was scared, scared for herself, for Peter, she wished she could make all just go away.

After the funeral luckily Peter was able to get some sort of reprieve chance parents had always liked Peter so instead of him going into foster care Peter was taken in by Chats Family. The two were already close so it seemed like the most logical choice. Eventually things will try to go back to normal Peter was now even more distant in school than he ever was he was even beginning to distance himself from chat which is the last thing that she wanted but she understood it all culminated with Peter simply going to his locker and feeling a presence come up behind him and of course it was Flash. The job tried to get a word out but Peter wouldn't have it he had lost everything and he wasn't going to take flashes b******* any longer he grabbed him by the hand and slammed him into the lockers screaming in his face to leave him alone hadn't he already done enough!

Flash was shocked that Peter suddenly had this strength but all he could say was he was sorry for everything.

Peter didn't even respond he had no more tears to shed no more Agony to let out he just felt hopeless. So he let flash go, walking away, passed teachers and students and even Chat who tried to go to him but, was helped back by her friends.

"Give him some space girl, let him cool off".

Peter decided to return home he just couldn't be at school right now you couldn't be around people he just needed time to himself time to think time to process but a part of his brain asked him what left was there to process that monster was still out there it came after him for some reason and he still didn't know why but it killed his uncle the only family he had ever had besides Chat of course but it wasn't the same. Throughout all of this the Symbiote that had bonded to Peter was going through its own mental crisis it felt responsible for causing Peter's anguish because it decided to bond to Peter it brought and nothing but pain and it felt everything that Peter felt the anguish the uselessness the sense of just wanting answers it had to do something after all it had come to Peter for help and maybe if it helped Peter, Peter could help it.

So one night as Peter was sitting alone in his room, a voice began speaking to him.

"D..daddy?" Peter was immediately taken aback.

"What, whose there?"

"Don't be mad daddy, we didn't mean to hurt you, were sorry".

Soon something began forming out of Peter, a red and black looking tendril that closely took the form of a face that seemed similar to the one of that of the monster that had attacked Peter months before. It's teeth were Jagged and small scared white eyes stared back at Peter. He immediately freaked out and went to hit the thing but, it screamed in terror.

"Don't hurt us please daddy please!"

Peter flinched, daddy? Why did it keep calling him that?

"Chat. Can you come in here!" Chat hearing Peter call her came In.

"Pete, you ok?"

"I.. don't. Know. Close the door please".

"Ok?" Chat closed the door as Peter showed chat the creature connected to him which caused chat to scream in terror casuing the Symbiote to scream back, it looked terrified. Yet chat however, began, sensing something about it. She couldn't explain it but, she somehow simply knew that it, whatever it was, wasn't going to hurt them.

She slowly walked over to Peter and knelt downqs the creature looked at her.

"It's OK, we won't hurt you" She said slowly holding out her hand as the Symbiote brushed against her. Peter seeing all of this was still abit shaken.

"What....what are you?"

The Symbiote looked up at Peter.

"We..i... don't know. We run from monster monster heart people tear them to tiny pieces we run from monster find help we come here looking for help we find you you help?"

Chat began to put the pieces together.

"Wait, you ran from the monster, Peter the paper article, that thing that attacked ravencroft, it's the same thing".

Peter felt his heart sank, as if things had gone from bad to worse, but, there was another part of him that began bubbling up, he had felt it for only a moment with flash, now, it was coming back again, Rage. He clitched his fist.

"You brought it here, your the reason my aunt and uncle are dead?!" Peter tried lashing out at the young creature but, chat stopped him.

" Peter stop it look you're angry you're hurting you're upset I get it but this thing whatever it is it came here to hide it didn't know that it was going to be followed whatever that thing is that attacked us that destroyed ravencroft it must be able to sense Where We Are and this thing that's attached to you, I don't think it knew, look at it".

Peter did and the Symbiote was terrified, shaking, despite its liquid slimy apperance he could see those same white Jagged eyes but, they weren't lifeless like the one from before, they were terrified, of the monster, of Peter.

Peter finally just collapsed into Chats arms and just cried, he didn't know what else to do, as Chat fought her own tears as she held him, the Symbiote, feeling sympathy and just wanting to help let its instincts take over as it bonded back to Peter and did what it could to sooth his body, calming his nerves, loosening muscles, similar to what the previous Symbiote had done to Cassidy but, no where near on the same level, just enough to ease the young man. Peter could feel himself calming down as he finally sat on his bed and the Symbiote came back out to look at him.

Peter, looking tired but, determined asked the Symbiote one question.

"You said you wanted my help, but, how, how can I help you against that thing?".

"We like monster, not bad, but, strong. We get stronger, stronger than monster, then we stop monster daddy, we be free!" The Symbiote said in a giddy voice, which caused Chat to giggle causing Peter to look at her confused.

"Well Pete, hate to say it but, I think you've got yourself a goo baby~"

This was going to be really weird going forward Peter thought. But where doesn't always mean bad for as the days went on Peter the Symbiote and chat began testing themselves and their new abilities with the Symbiotes help Peter realized that he was able to not only become stronger but he could climb walls he could hear and sense things better he was more agile and he could even use tendrils from the Symbiote like ropes or webbing almost.

Chat on the other hand was coming into her abilities and more unorthodox ways it was strange she had always been an animal person she always felt like she got along better with animals than she did most people but this was on a different level whenever she went for a walk she could almost understand what the birds chirping above her were saying it seemed that no matter where she went animals would just flock to her squirrels Birds Ducks swans dogs cats even rats, the last one she could've done without.

But to go along with this chat also realize that some of the traits that animals had she was also able to tap into for example the high pitched scream that she used against the monster was similar to a bird's call she also tested that if she could scream like a bird she could also fly like one but that didn't really end up working out and also ended up with Peter having to save her as she attempted to jump off their roof. However she was able to hear similar to a dog's hearing she was able to see things that usually only certain animals would be able to see in different spectrums and so forth. Needless to say her five senses that being smell, touch, hear, taste and smell were all enhanced, combined that with her ability to almost commune and understand animals, Chat was beginning to truly love her new powers.

Peter was also beginning to find his footing with his new passenger the two despite getting off to a rocky start we're beginning to trust one another Peter still didn't fully understand why this creature was calling him it's Daddy but eventually it just grew on him even though he continually told it to just call him Peter. Chat however seemed to kind of like the dynamic with her even giving the creature the cute nickname of Squishy, and Squishy beginning to call Chat Mommy. It was a cute little family Dynamic the three had going in a very Twisted sort of way but still.

Yet as the three were beginning to come to terms with what had happened to them Cassidy was Furious he had been so close to finding his prey to finally finding his worthy challenge yet for whatever reason he was forwarded by a damn flock of birds and now he was having trouble finding his prey again that's scream that the girl had let out had done something to him she had actually heard him at this point Cassidy had never actually been harmed since he bonded with whatever the creature was.

But he began to realize that that kid that he had almost killed somehow was the presence that he was sensing he didn't fully understand how or why but he began to conclude that maybe that kid was like him maybe he was hiding something maybe a creature similar to the one that had gotten on his skin was in the kid and if that was the case he needed a way to draw it out.

" so you like me well then let's see if we can get your passenger to come out and play~ but first I'm going to have to relieve you of your bodyguard hahahahaha"

Cassidy quickly put his plan into action for his chat was walking back from the store one day she quickly was attacked by Cassidy being wrapped up before she could scream or do anything and when Peter returned home from a walk, he found a morbid message written of the houses door, written in blood.

"Come get your little bird~"

At this moment something just completely snapped within Peter sure he had managed to keep his rage under control and yes he and Squishy were able to work together but this rage that Peter was feeling was different because it wasn't just coming from him it was coming from the Symbiote both of them unanimously Feeling Just Pure and utter anger and rage this monster Cassidy or whatever he was now not had he slaughtered hundreds of innocent people not only had he killed Peterson and uncle but now he had attacked Peter's second home taken the love of his life and as far as squishy was concerned the only family it had ever known this was the final straw as Peter's form slowly began changing morphing his skin becoming red and black blood vessels bursting body parts rearranging he didn't even feel the pain in agony rage was a hell of an anesthetic. Soon a different creature was standing in Peter's place 6 ft tall lanky red and black creature with razor sharp claws and those same Jagged white eyes stared at the message on his door.

" we won't let you work anymore innocence we won't let you hurt our friend we won't let you kill our family we are poison to you and your poisoned our life poisoned everything, that's why from this day on, we are no longer weak, not just Peter or Symbiote, now, We, are Venom."

Peter now Venom quickly began tracking the scent of Cassidy they weren't able to do it before they could always somehow sense it but never had a reason to go after him but now things were personal if anything they were acting on pure rage and instinct no more rational thinking Peter and the Symbiote or squishy both of them were in control yet they weren't in control at all it's as if their body was moving on autopilot all they could think about was one thing save chat and kill Cassidy.

Meanwhile in an abandoned shirt not far from the chat's home Chat found herself strung up by black tendrils right on top of a cross overlooking the church in a similar manner to how Jesus was staked, the monster cackling at her from below.

" oh this is all so perfect we have the Damsel in Distress and very soon oh so soon we'll have the naive and foolish night and shining armor come crashing through the door to save his lover and I will finally have what I've been craving these past few months as a matter of fact something I've been craving for my entire life a worthy challenge and once I rip the flesh off his bones I'll be able to finally prove that there's only one alpha predator in this town!"

As if on cue, the doors if the church burst open and chat was shocked at what she saw, a creature similar to the monster, but, slimmer and with a red and black color, yet she knew who it was.

"Peter?.."

" Let Her Go you bastard!" Venom growled, it's claws sharpening on the floor.

Cassidy just cackled.

" finally this is what I was looking for and you look glorious!"

"Shut up, you've taken everything from us! Our home, our family, even our new family, no more. No more killing, no more suffering, we may have been your spawn, but, now you die by Venoms Hand!"

"Spawn ehh~ so my passenger had a baby before we met, well then "Venom", ready for some father son quality time?!" Cassidy smirked as he morphed his arm into a large scythe as Venom charged at him, dodging a quick slash from Carnage only to slash him against the face, following it up with grabbing a pue and smashing him over the back with it. Carnage yelled in anger but, also, sadistic laughter, he was enjoying this, he'd enjoy killing this one.

He takes the first strike, massive tentacles sprouting from his back and striking at Venom laughing manically as he did so. Venom is unphased and retaliates, delivering a powerful punch to Carnage, knocking him back. Before Carnage can get up, Venom delivers a series of slashes to Carnages face, tearing the monster apart. Peter could feel himself losing control the more that the Teo fought but, he didn't care. This mad man had taken everything from him, Chat, even Squishy, he had to pay, he had to Die!

Carnage however, manages to block Venom's last strike. He then retaliates by grabbing one of his arms, breaking it causing Venom to screech out in pain, only for his free hand to become a mallet as he strikes Carnage in the face, sending the black monster hurling into a line pews, as he manages to mend his arm, flesh and bone cracking and popping back into place. Chat tried to scream for Peter, he muffled voice barely reaching the red heros ear, he looked at her and then Carnage as he got up. Summoning his strength he sprouting several tendrils at the remaining pews in the building before bringing them crashing down on Carnage. With the monster distracted, Peter jumped up and freed Chat, cutting her loose.

"Pete...is that, really you?" Peter's face appeared from within the mouth of the creature.

"Chat...your..parents, he..." Chat just shook her head, she already knew. "Not now, we have to stop him, let me help, can you find a way hold him down, o think I have an idea"

Peter listened as Carnage finally broke free from the debris pile, causing Peter to drop Chat and looked back at her. "Be ready" he said, his human face disappearing inside the maw of Venom as he readied his talons as the hulking black form of Carnage came charging back at him.

The two continue fighting as chat stands back waiting fir an opening. Carnage continues trying to squash Venom with his massive weaponized hands, one an axe and another a mallet, while, continously trying to stab slowly the hero with his black tendrils. Venom struggles to dodge the tendrils, looking for an opening in the monsters defenses. Eventually, Carnage lands a powerful kick to Venom's chest, knocking him back. He then pulls Venom toward him again, tightening his tendrils around the young hero and continuing to injure Venom with his strikes. Venom begins to weaken, struggling to break free, the Symbiote slowly failing.

"Your finished "son"~" Carnage cackled.

But, no, it was him that was finished. "Not yet monster, Now Chat!"

With that, chat screamed as loud as she could at the two symbiotes, both screaming in pain. Peter managed to web himself to the ceiling to escape the brunt of the strike though the vibrations still hurt him badly. Meanwhile Carnage, Cassidy was in agony, every nerve was fire, it felt like his body was being torn apart from the inside out, he felt himself weakening, his other half was dying. Chat kept the assault, she felt like her voice was going to give out but, she couldn't stop. This monster had to die, her family, Peter's family deserved justice!

Eventually it was too much and the black monster that was Carnage disappeared, and all that was left was the nude and twisted form of cleus Cassidy, without the Symbiote to hold his body together, he gave out, dead and at last, all his victims, old and new, were avenged.

Peter came down to the ground and could think of nothing else than to simply hold chat in his arms.

Word spread quickly throughout the town and eventually the authorities showed up at Chats house. Peter and Chat knew that they had to come up with some kind of story to convince the police, and they did, stating that they were both attacked but, some red man helped them, chased the monster to the nearby church, and killed it. Under normal circumstances the police would have thought that they were lying but given the destruction and everything else around them he wasn't exactly going to call them out on it but now the two were faced yet again with another problem both of them have just lost their family their homes and it looks like they were going to be thrown into foster care or worse little did they know that they had a hidden Ally.

That's the officer turned to leave a woman with long red hair and a professional looking outfit walked up to the two she wore a warm smile and introduced herself.

"Peter Parker, Sophia Sanduval, my name is Raven Darkholme, and I believe we can help eachother, I'm deeply sorry for your loss. But, if you'll allow me, i think I know just the place where you both can be safe".

And just like that one chapter ends and another begins.

To be Continued.

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