#Binding Wire Use

[srjsteel]

From Foundation to Finish: How Binding Wires Support the Strength of Super Rings and TMT Bars

Every structure relies on strength beneath the surface — and that starts with binding wires. Found wrapped tightly around TMT bars and Super Rings, these seemingly minor components play a pivotal role in reinforcing core elements and maintaining load distribution from foundation to finish.

While much attention is given to choosing the best TMT bar or high-performance Super Rings, the true stability of a reinforced frame depends on how securely it's tied together. Binding wires aren’t just accessories — they’re structural enablers, linking the skeleton of a building into a singular, high-resilience unit.

Awareness Stage: Why Binding Wires Deserve More Attention

Binding wires act as the invisible threads holding together the very framework of reinforced concrete structures. They tie intersecting TMT bars at junctions, ensuring no displacement occurs during the concrete pour. A poorly tied bar can shift even a few millimetres and compromise the structural geometry — a risk that multiplies in multi-storey and seismic-prone constructions.

These wires, when correctly chosen and applied, maintain the spatial arrangement of Super Rings and TMT bars, guaranteeing structural accuracy and load-bearing performance as intended by the design.

Technically, binding wires are made from soft annealed steel, allowing flexibility without compromising the grip. Their ductility helps them twist around the intersection of bars without snapping, which is crucial during dynamic movements like concrete setting, vibration, or formwork removal.

Consideration Stage: Binding Wires in Sync with Super Rings and TMT Bars

The introduction of Super Rings into reinforcement systems has transformed structural integrity — their high tensile strength and precise shape improve load transfer at critical junctions. But without precise binding, their advantages are diminished. Proper tying ensures that these rings remain in exact placement during installation, preserving the intended reinforcement density.

Similarly, the best TMT bar — known for its strength, elongation, and bonding ability with concrete — depends on its correct alignment and spacing. This is where binding wires silently take control, anchoring bars to each other and to Super Rings. Consistent tying maintains design clearances and ensures the cage structure doesn't distort under pressure.

Choosing poor-quality or inconsistent binding wires can result in slack ties, rust formation, or even structural failure over time. On the other hand, high-carbon content wires, correctly annealed, provide both the strength to hold and the softness to wrap efficiently.

Site engineers often note that stable reinforcement cages reduce errors during concreting. This directly improves the bonding between concrete and steel, enabling the best TMT bar to deliver its rated performance in terms of ductility and stress management.

Decision Stage: Why Quality Binding Wires Elevate the Entire Framework

In large-scale construction projects, every material must justify its presence. Binding wires, though inexpensive compared to TMT bars or rings, affect the precision, safety, and longevity of the entire steel framework.

High-quality binding wires resist early corrosion — which is critical since rust at the intersections can reduce grip and lead to premature degradation. Their uniform gauge and tensile strength ensure equal pressure across ties, reducing the risk of partial displacement during formwork handling or vibration.

When paired with the best TMT bar and trusted Super Rings, these wires enhance the lifespan and resilience of the structural skeleton. Projects that overlook their importance often face reinforcement misalignment, uneven stress distribution, or compromised seismic performance.

On sites where quality control is rigorous, binding wires are selected just as carefully as other reinforcement materials. Their performance under wet concrete load, resistance to environmental stress, and compatibility with various bar diameters directly contribute to the overall integrity of the build.

Binding wires may not carry the load, but they hold everything that does.

[kapilasteel]

A Guide to Choosing the Right TMT Saria Manufacturer and Binding Wire for Your Project

Selecting the proper TMT Saria manufacturer could make the difference between a creation mission that stands the test of time and one plagued with structural troubles down the road. The spine of current production, Thermo-Mechanically Treated (TMT) metal bars, provides the essential reinforcement that offers concrete systems their strength and durability. Alongside excellent binding cord and well-set-up dowel bars, these substances form the hidden basis upon which construction fulfillment rests.

Understanding TMT Saria: The Building Block of Modern Construction

TMT saria, also called reinforcement bars or rebars, undergoes a specialized production system related to speedy quenching and self-tempering. This creates a unique shape with a more difficult outer layer and a softer, extra ductile core. The end result? Superior energy-to-weight ratio, terrific ductility, and astounding seismic resistance.

Quality binding wires enhances these steel bars with the aid of securing reinforcement cages with precision. Too regularly, contractors forget this reputedly minor factor, but wrong binding can result in displacement during concrete pouring, compromising the entire shape.

Similarly, dowel bars play a vital role in moving masses across concrete joints. These specialized metallic components save you differential agreement and enlarge pavement lifestyles considerably. Proper choice and installation of dowel bars often separates professional-grade projects from newbie endeavors.

Evaluating TMT Saria Manufacturers: Beyond Price Considerations

When getting to know TMT saria producers, looking beyond cost well-known shows the real value proposition. The steel industry homes manufacturers throughout numerous first-class levels, and distinguishing among them calls for attention to numerous key elements:

Certification and Testing Protocols

Reputable TMT saria manufacturers maintain comprehensive quality control systems with regular third-party verification. Look for certifications like ISO 9001 and compliance with local building codes. Ask potential suppliers about their testing frequency and protocols—manufacturers confident in their product quality readily share this information.

"I've seen projects where contractors saved 5% on materials only to spend 30% more fixing structural issues later," notes Rajiv Sharma, a veteran structural engineer with 25 years of experience. "The right TMT saria manufacturer provides documentation proving every batch meets or exceeds specifications."

Manufacturing Technology

The quenching process represents the heart of TMT saria production. Advanced manufacturers utilize computer-controlled cooling systems that ensure uniform properties throughout the bar length. This consistency translates directly to structural predictability—exactly what engineers rely on when calculating load capacities.

Binding wire quality similarly depends on manufacturing precision. High-quality annealed binding wire demonstrates consistent ductility without brittleness, allowing secure ties that maintain position during concrete vibration.

Real-World Performance

Construction sites offer the ultimate testing ground. Speaking with contractors who've used products from specific TMT Saria manufacturers provides invaluable insights. Questions about workability, bending performance, and consistency across deliveries reveal patterns that specifications alone cannot capture.

One mid-sized apartment complex in Gujarat faced serious construction delays when inconsistent rebar quality forced multiple rejections at the site. The project manager later admitted, "Switching to a premium TMT saria manufacturer added 1.2% to material costs but saved weeks on the schedule."

Binding Wire and Dowel Bars: Essential Companions to Quality Rebar

Quality binding wire complements premium rebar by ensuring the designed configuration remains stable during concrete placement. Black annealed, galvanized, and PVC-coated varieties each serve specific applications:

Black annealed binding wire offers excellent workability for standard applications.

Galvanized binding wire prevents corrosion in exposed or high-humidity environments.

PVC-coated binding wire eliminates the risk of rust staining on architectural concrete.

Dowel bars require equal attention, particularly for pavements and industrial floors. These specialized components require precise coating and installation to function properly. Premium dowel bars feature expansion caps and basket assemblies that ensure proper alignment during concrete placement.

Making the Final Decision: Integrating Quality Materials into Your Project

The decisive moment comes when comparing quotes from different TMT saria manufacturers. Beyond the bottom-line price, evaluate these critical factors:

Material consistency—Does the manufacturer guarantee chemical composition within tight tolerances?

Delivery reliability—Can they meet your construction schedule with dependable deliveries?

Technical support—Do they provide engineering assistance for complex applications?

Traceability—Can each batch be traced back to its production data if questions arise?

For binding wire and dowel bars, similar scrutiny pays dividends. These components represent a tiny fraction of the overall budget but significantly impact structural integrity.

The most successful projects treat material selection as a strategic decision rather than a procurement exercise. By partnering with a reputable TMT saria manufacturer and sourcing quality binding wire and dowel bars, construction professionals create structures that stand as testaments to their commitment to excellence.

When structural integrity cannot be compromised, the initial investment in premium materials pays dividends throughout the structure's lifetime. The right choice today prevents costly remediation tomorrow.

[angelofrainfrogs]

Just an Attraction: Ch. 1

~Coauthored by @zeitghest~

Fandom(s): Five Nights At Freddy’s: Security Breach

Description: The first thing Gregory knows is the place he landed gives him the creeps. A rundown building with crumbling walls and a generally unkempt appearance, only the blinking Fazbear Fright’s sign belies this is indeed part of the mega corporation slowly taking over the world. Even the night guard seems to match the ambiance, with his body all wrapped in bandages. This doesn’t stop Gregory from recognizing him though, and he can only hope this iteration of Michael is a bit less crazed than the last one he encountered.  

Rating: T

Read on Ao3

----

Looking for more? Check out the entire Wires that Bind Us Series on ao3!

[kay2xenox]

What holds your world together? The Invisible strength of kay2 wirebond

Like the invisible thread that ties everything together, Kay2 binding wire connects every element of your construction with unyielding strength. It may be unseen, but its impact is undeniable

[thyfleshc0nsumed]

TME people really do throw out the tactical ''bro' on purpose in online arguments. Like they're setting a trap and they win either way. I don't think it's always a cognitive decision, but they fucking know somewhere that's what they're doing. The options for the doll are to either take the punitive misgendering, or object and get made out as the crazy, angry tranny cuz they have plausible deniability.

Trans women truly are at the intersection of trans ness and womanhood, like this is the same fucking playbook every anti feminist man-on-the-street video has used for the last 15 years at least: say something inflammatory but plausibly deniable in a calm tone, get the woman to call you on your bullshit, and say "woahhh calm down I'm just asking questions." Then everyone who is feminist-in-name-only gets to go "I'm a feminist/I don't even agree with this guy/etc. , but this woman is CRAZY," and bam, the provoked is sold as the provocateur. It's the same exact shit my drunk of a mother did to me as a teen--it's the double bind, you react, you lose, you don't react, you lose.

And like the thing is, I do believe people when they say they bro people all the time. I call people "girl" all the time, like ill refer to my cishet dude friends as girl, like "girlllll why did I say yes to this..." But like if I were experiencing 'good-faith' conflict with one of them, I wouldn't be calling them that, not even cuz it would be "misgendering," but because it would feel like talking down to them and showing them a lack of respect, like I wouldn't be calling them 'bro' in that moment either. So like, when you're having a conflict with a tranny, you get to talk down to her, show her you don't fucking respect her, and misgender her, AND you get to do it consequence free. All that's missing is coffee and a blowjob.

Idk, it just frustrates me to no end that so many fuckin "queer, fuck terfs, trans women are women types" are so stoked that they have acceptable targets to bully and push around like they just got a Daily Wire gig.

[kemystery-chemicals]

Exploring Different Types of TMT Bars and Their Applications

In the realm of construction, TMT (Thermo-Mechanically Treated) bars have become the backbone of structural integrity, offering superior strength and resilience to concrete structures. However, within the category of TMT bars, there exist various types, each tailored to specific construction requirements and environmental conditions. Let's delve into the different types of TMT bars and their diverse applications.

1. Fe-415 TMT Bars:

Description: Fe-415 TMT bars are the most commonly used type, characterized by their moderate tensile strength and ductility.

Applications:

Residential buildings

Low to mid-rise commercial structures

Small bridges and culverts

2. Fe-500 TMT Bars:

Description: Fe-500 TMT bars offer higher tensile strength compared to Fe-415 bars, making them suitable for structures requiring increased load-bearing capacity.

Applications:

High-rise buildings

Industrial structures

Heavy-duty infrastructure projects like bridges and flyovers

3. Fe-550 TMT Bars:

Description: Fe-550 TMT bars are engineered to provide even greater tensile strength and durability, making them ideal for structures subjected to extreme loads and harsh environmental conditions.

Applications:

Seismic zones

High-traffic areas such as highways and airports

Power plants and industrial facilities

4. Fe-600 TMT Bars:

Description: Fe-600 TMT bars represent the pinnacle of strength and resilience in TMT bar technology, offering the highest tensile strength among commonly available TMT bar grades.

Applications:

Specialized infrastructure projects with stringent safety requirements

High-rise structures in earthquake-prone regions

Heavy industrial applications

5. Corrosion-Resistant TMT Bars:

Description: Corrosion-resistant TMT bars are specially designed with additional alloying elements to enhance their resistance to corrosion, making them suitable for coastal areas or structures exposed to aggressive environments.

Applications:

Marine structures such as seawalls and docks

Chemical plants and refineries

Water treatment facilities

6. Weldable TMT Bars:

Description: Weldable TMT bars are formulated to facilitate easy and reliable welding, allowing for efficient construction processes that require the joining of reinforcement bars.

Applications:

Prefabricated construction

Retrofitting and repair work

Large-scale construction projects with intricate designs

In conclusion, the diverse range of TMT bars available caters to the varied needs of construction projects, offering solutions for everything from residential buildings to heavy industrial infrastructure. Understanding the characteristics and applications of each type of TMT bar is crucial for selecting the most suitable option to ensure the structural integrity and longevity of the built environment.

[sofiaswrittendelusions]

“Mine again.”

Synopsis: After rescuing you from your kidnappers, Caleb decides to teach them a valuable lesson: No one touches you.

warnings: Fem! Reader, no use of y/n, mentís of kidnapping and torture, Caleb kidnaps and tortured your kidnappers and tortures, mentions of death, medical inaccuracies

“Do you know,” Caleb murmurs, his voice almost gentle, “how long it takes for someone to suffocate when their lunges collapse under their own weight?”

The man’s body convulses against the invisible force pinning him just inches above the bloodstained floor.

Just enough to hurt.

Not enough to kill.

Not yet.

Caleb’s voice was calm. Too calm.

The kind of calm that came right before something broke.

The kind of calm that should have been a warning.

But the man dangling in the air couldn’t see it.

He was too busy choking. Gasping.

The invisible force twisted tighter around his chest, the gravity bending in on itself, pressing down—squeezing just enough to make every breath a battle. His legs dangled uselessly, arms pinned at his sides by a weight he couldn’t see, couldn’t fight.

But Caleb wasn’t watching his struggle.

He was watching his face.

The terror. The veins bulging in his neck as the oxygen drained too fast. The way his lips parted, bloodshot eyes wide, panicked, already searching for mercy.

But there would be none.

Not tonight.

Not after what this man had done.

Caleb’s face was expressionless as he knelt, close enough that the heat of his breath ghosted over the man’s cheek. His bionic hand flexed once, and the gravity shifted—just slightly—easing enough to allow one ragged inhale.

One.

And then—

Crack.

The weight surged back, hard enough to splinter ribs.

The man screamed.

It wasn’t satisfying.

It wasn’t enough.

Not when all Caleb could see—when he closed his eyes—was you.

Tied to that chair. Wrists torn raw from the wire binding them. Blood trailing down your temple. The way your chest had heaved, fighting for every breath, lungs damaged because of them.

Because of him.

He hadn’t gotten there fast enough. Hadn’t stopped them from hurting you.

But he could stop this.

And so he would.

The man coughed violently, blood speckling his lips as he convulsed under the weight.

Caleb didn’t blink.

“You enjoyed it, didn’t you?” His voice was quieter now. Darker. “You watched her suffer. Watched her scream while you strapped her down and put your hands on her—“

“Please—” The word broke from the man’s throat, a shattered whisper, but Caleb twisted his fingers, and the weight surged again.

Cutting off the air.

The man’s body arched, bones grinding audibly.

Good.

Caleb leaned closer, voice lowering into something jagged.

“I felt it. Every scream you ripped out of her.” His breath hitched, chest heaving as the memory sliced deep, raw and bloody. “The videos. You made sure I watched—”

His teeth clenched so hard his jaw ached. The weight pressed harder. The man’s face purpled, veins bulging.

And still—

It wasn’t enough.

The bionic hand snapped forward, clamping around the man’s throat with mechanical precision. His boots never touched the floor. He couldn’t struggle.

Couldn’t run.

But Caleb wasn’t done.

His voice dropped lower, almost a whisper.

“She cried because of you.”

The pressure built.

A rib cracked. Then another.

The man sobbed, clawing weakly at his throat, his nails scraping futilely against the metal plating of Caleb’s grip.

“I should crush you right now,” Caleb hissed. “But that would be too easy.”

The man choked, barely able to speak now, his lips turning blue as his body spasmed violently. But the look in his eyes—the fear—was enough to keep him conscious.

Caleb made sure of it.

The pressure shifted.

Not just around the man’s chest now. Inside.

Gravity coiled deep beneath the skin, inside his lungs, pressing inward.

The scream that tore from his throat was ragged, primal—like his body was fighting itself, ribs straining against the collapse.

But Caleb didn’t care.

He wanted the pain.

Because it was nothing compared to the agony of seeing you like that.

Strapped down. Fragile. Bleeding.

Breaking.

Because he hadn’t gotten there fast enough.

Because he’d failed you.

Another rib gave way with a wet crack. The man was sobbing now, words incoherent, lips moving around gasped pleas for mercy—

And Caleb’s hand didn’t move.

His voice was a whisper.

“You deserve this.”

And then—

A sound.

Soft.

Barely audible over the man’s dying gasps.

Not from him.

From you.

A shaky breath. The sound of your body shifting from the next room over. Still weak. Still healing. Alive.

And the rage twisted into something worse.

No.

They didn’t deserve a quick death.

Not when you’d suffered for days.

The pressure around the man released all at once. His body dropped hard to the floor, coughing, gasping, clutching his shattered ribs. But he wouldn’t die.

Not yet.

Caleb loomed over him, eyes narrowed, voice cutting through the agony like a blade.

“You’re going to live.”

The man whimpered.

Caleb crouched lower.

“You’re going to feel every second of what you did to her.”

Because he wasn’t just ending them.

He was going to ruin them.

And he was going to take his time.

[srjsteel]

Why Bar Dowels Work Better with Quality Binding Wire

Understanding the Role of Bar Dowels in Construction

Bar dowel systems serve a critical purpose in reinforced concrete construction. Their main job is transferring loads between adjacent concrete slabs. Think of them as quiet connectors that absorb the stress of expansion, contraction, and repeated loading without creating visible wear and tear on surfaces.

Bar dowels improve performance in pavements, bridges, and industrial floors by reducing joint movement. They prevent differential settlement, reduce cracking, and help surfaces remain smooth and level even under constant strain. But installing dowel bars correctly is only half the story. The real strength comes from how well they're held in position during the pour.

Where Binding Wire Comes Into Play

That’s where binding wire enters the equation. It may seem like a minor component, but its role is anything but small. Used to tie bar dowel systems to supporting reinforcement or alignment cages, binding wire holds the structure together at its core. Without it, dowel bars shift, sag, or misalign during the concrete pour, leading to performance issues that show up months later.

The Risks of Inferior Binding Wire

Not all binding wire is created equal. Inferior wire tends to corrode, break during installation, or lose tension over time. Once that happens, the entire setup is compromised. What was meant to distribute masses smoothly finally ends up becoming a weak spot within the shape. That type of failure is not simply inconvenient—it can be costly to repair and undermine the shape’s reliability.

Why Quality Binding Wire Matters

When quality binding wire is paired with bar dowels, the difference is measurable and visible. The concrete cures around a perfectly aligned system that maintains spacing, direction, and load-bearing performance. There’s less friction during expansion and contraction, reducing long-term stress on the slab. The structure becomes quieter, stronger, and more predictable over time.

Longevity and Protection in Harsh Conditions

Corrosion resistance also plays a big role. In areas exposed to moisture, salt, or chemicals, poor-quality binding wire will degrade quickly, leading to rust streaks and internal damage. High-quality binding wire prevents this by maintaining its integrity even in harsh conditions. It grips the dowel bars tightly without degrading, ensuring the system holds firm for years.

Material Choice Reflects Workmanship

When the structure is still on paper, it’s tempting to focus only on the big-ticket materials. But real performance is often determined by the smaller parts—the ones that don’t make headlines in a BOQ. Choosing bar dowels is already a step toward durability. Matching them with the right binding wire simply completes the picture.

It’s also a signal of craftsmanship. Contractors and site managers who understand the value of quality binding wire show a deeper commitment to long-term results. They reduce callbacks, minimise cracks, and improve joint stability—all without inflating the overall material cost.

The Payoff of Getting It Right

It’s not just about holding things in place. It’s about holding standards high. Pairing bar dowel systems with the right binding wire helps ensure dowels do what they’re designed for: evenly transfer load, reduce wear, and maintain structural harmony. That means less surface maintenance, fewer repairs, and longer service life.

When dowel bars are secured correctly, they become invisible heroes—silently carrying the burden while the structure performs effortlessly. It’s a low-cost decision that delivers high-value outcomes, especially in high-traffic zones or heavy-duty infrastructure.

Final Thoughts

In the construction world, strength isn’t just about size—it’s about synergy. Choosing quality materials like reliable binding wire in tandem with bar dowels gives structures the edge they need to last longer, perform better, and require far less intervention over time. It’s a small decision that leads to lasting stability.

[kapilasteel]

How Binding Wire and TMT Bars Create the Backbone of Modern Construction

A steel pipe company that produces components knows something essential about modern-day building practices: the invisible elements regularly determine a shape's integrity. While concrete might also seem like the hero of creation tasks, the fact is it's a ways more complicated. The fusion of binding twine and reinforcement bars creates the hidden framework that allows concrete structures to face up to the test of time.

When employees pour concrete around a carefully built skeleton of metal rebars, they may be collaborating in a production method that has revolutionized structure and infrastructure improvement globally. But how precisely does this system paint, and why is the connection between binding wire and substances from TMT bar manufacturers so essential?

The Critical Role of Binding Wire

Binding wires serves as the unsung hero of this creation symphony. This especially thin, malleable cord performs the essential feature of securing reinforcement bars in their designed positions before concrete placement. When construction people tie rebar grids or cages, binding wire ensures that the reinforcement continues the right spacing and alignment all through the concrete pour.

Proper positioning is non-negotiable due to the fact that the effectiveness of reinforcement relies absolutely on unique placement in the concrete matrix. Even minor displacement can considerably lessen structural capacity and sturdiness. This is in which the relationship among binding twine and materials from TMT bar producers will become crucial.

The Science Behind TMT Bar Manufacturing

TMT (thermo-mechanically treated) bars constitute a widespread development in reinforcement technology. Unlike traditional steel bars, products from TMT bar manufacturers go through a complicated production system concerning managed heating, speedy quenching of the surface layer, and self-tempering of the center as residual warmth flows outward.

This method creates a completely unique micro structure: a sturdy outer layer with martensite formation providing high yield strength and a ductile ferrite-pearlite center that ensures flexibility and weldability.

The Binding Process: Where Precision Meets Craftsmanship

The connection among binding wire and reinforcement from TMT bar producers requires both technical information and practiced talent. Workers usually use specialized tools known as rebar stages to create steady connections at intersection points. The binding pattern follows engineer-specific requirements, with different styles (parent-8, saddle, or wrap-and-twist ties) used depending on structural demands.

Binding cord itself is available in several sorts, with black annealed wire being the most not unusual for popular packages. For specialized tasks, galvanized or PVC-coated binding wire prevents corrosion in aggressive environments. A legit steel pipe business enterprise regularly components the entire range wished for numerous programs.

Industry Integration: From Manufacturing to Construction

The journey from uncooked fabric to finished shape demonstrates extremely good supply chain integration. A steel pipe agency that still materials binding cord and collaborates with TMT bar producers represents an evolution closer to incorporated cloth answers that make sure compatibility and performance.

This delivery chain integration matters because inconsistencies among reinforcement elements can create unexpected weaknesses. When materials come from assets with coordinated pleasant requirements, builders gain confidence in long-term structural overall performance.

Looking Forward: Innovation in Reinforcement Technology

The binding cord and TMT bar production industries retain evolving collectively. Recent improvements consist of self-connecting reinforcement systems that reduce binding cord requirements, corrosion-resistant alloys for severe environments, and digital tracking technology that files reinforcement placement for fine guarantee.

For developers and contractors, staying knowledgeable about these improvements through relationships with a complete metallic pipe company gives competitive benefits in terms of creation efficiency and structural performance.

Final Thoughts

The next time you walk past a production web page or input a concrete construction, don't forget that beneath the gray floor lies a cautiously orchestrated community of materials operating in harmony—concrete, TMT bars, and binding twine growing systems that define our built environment.

[angelofrainfrogs]

Break My Mind: Ch. 6

~Coauthored by @zeitghest~

Fandom(s): Five Nights At Freddy’s: Security Breach

Description: Gregory must be dreaming this time. No sooner had he come to accept this strange reality where everyone is alive and well, than he’s sent back through time and space to the weekend he got trapped in the Pizzaplex. He’s supposed to help his family get on track for a better future, yet… didn’t he already succeed in his own timeline? Confused but relieved, Gregory drops back into his new life in the mega mall. In fact, who should be waiting for him but Michael, clad in a security uniform and searching for his missing family! Only—the night guard seems a bit more withered than when Gregory last saw him. Not to mention that cold look in his silver eyes…

Rating: T

Read on Ao3

And here we go again…

As soon the heavy fog cleared from Gregory’s mind when he hit the floor, he knew he had to get up and hide from Mike. There was no reasoning with this one, despite his initially worried tone that called to lure him closer. Gregory turned and nearly fell over trying to sprint away from him. He knew what he had to do—

And as long Gregory wasn’t an idiot about things this time, he wouldn’t risk his friends being damaged from protecting him.

Gregory could hear the zombie shouting after him with false concern as he made it into the employees’ entrance of the arcade. He needed to get to the basement—or lose himself trying again. He passed by lockers, finding them too easy of a hiding spot. Michael would know right away. He had to keep running no matter how bad the burning was in his lungs. Running until he found the cold, dark comfort of the depths below…

***

The kid was smart, Henry had to give him that. Regardless of his reason for disappearing, he was confident that Gregory would at least know to avoid Mike like the plague. After all the stories they’d told about the psychotic night guard and what he’d done, surely Gregory wouldn’t think of Michael as anything more than bad news.

As it stood, Henry and Will were wandering through the back rooms looking for the child in question. They were debating whether to head for the security office when a scuffling caused them to freeze. The noise was too light and quick for animatronic feet, so that left only two options…

“Gregory!” the old bear hissed, eyes widening when he spotted the boy dart around a corner. He kept his voice low, figuring their enemy was nearby if he was running like that. Gesturing for Gregory to come closer, he added: “We’ve been looking for you; why the hell did you run off—you know what, never mind. We’ve got to go!”

Run and hide first, then they could grill the kid.

Gregory didn’t even stop, barreling towards them in the corridor to take the lead—only to be snatched up by the back of his shirt. He gasped, first thinking his friends weren’t the ones to grab him, on edge now that he knew what would happen if he got caught. In reality it was William, raising him up by the scruff of his neck. He wasn’t about to let Gregory out of his sight again. As William began to run in his loping gait, Gregory thrashed in his arms.

“No! Head for the basement!” the boy tried to command, though the rabbit holding him shook his head.

“Bad move—you don’t know what’s down there,” William countered, moving swiftly until Gregory started to box his shoulder. “Hey, quit that! What’s gotten into you?”

He stopped in a storage space between the last utility hall and a gift shop. Will put the exhausted Gregory down, watching him sway on his feet and taking stock of two things: the vomit on Gregory’s shirt, all nervous stomach acid and bile; then those glowing, haunted eyes staring at him in the dark.

“Shit… You must be really scared, Gregory; I… I didn’t mean to make it worse,” he murmured sympathetically, feeling his heart fall as he realized Michael stuck the boy with Remnant when his guard was down.

“Oh, shit...,” Henry murmured, pressing an oversized paw to his mouth as he noticed those eyes a moment after William. Shaking his head, he tried to reign in his rising panic. “No, no, he couldn't've—god damn it!”

Breathe. The kid is clearly terrified, and you're going to freak him out more.

They could deal with the Remnant later. They'd just keep an eye on Gregory for now and make sure he didn't have any immediate after-effects. God, did the kid even know what'd happened to him?

“...Sorry,” Henry apologized after a moment, leaning down to offer Gregory's head a gentle pat. “Just stressed—as are we all. So, uh—yeah, basement's not a good idea.” He stood, briefly shifting his worried gaze to William; the kid sure seemed determined to go there. “I know it seems like a solid hideout, but... it's not. Maybe we can head for one of the attractions and hole ourselves in there for a bit?”

Either way, they needed to make a decision soon. It wouldn't be long before Michael and/or his lackeys caught up and tried to snatch Gregory away again.

Gregory shook his head and lurched forward, capturing both Henry and William’s paws in his own to ground them. They weren’t going anywhere, even if they pulled his arms from the sockets trying to escape his tiny grasp.

“It’s overrun upstairs. They’re all too aggressive—” the boy panted, still catching his breath from his mad dash. “—Michael already saw me. He won’t go to the basement!”

Gregory seemed to have worked this out in his mind, though he could see his behavior was worrying the both of them.

“Sport…,” William began, feeling worse by the minute. They’d left him alone to fend for himself, and now they’d all face the consequences. “—Fine; we’ll go. But you’re not to let go of our hands this time.”

He didn’t care if Gregory may be a little too old to hold someone’s hand in an unknown place. While his life was no longer at stake, losing him would prove a harder time for him and the others.

“Henry?” William glanced over to the bear, wanting his input on the situation.  

“I—” Henry’s first instinct was to protest, as they would not be welcomed down there... but Gregory was making valid points. Besides, at least they knew the “threats” the ghost children posed, and that was more than they could say for the capabilities of the infected Glamrocks. With a resigned huff, Henry nodded and cinched his grip on Gregory's hand. He wasn't about to let the kid go either. “...Yeah, let's go.”

Taking the lead, since Gregory had never been to the basement before, he tried to explain their hesitancy. “Look, Gregory, you've got to prepare yourself because unfortunately we're not going to be alone. There are other ghosts down there—three, technically, and… something else.” He grimaced internally, not really sure what to categorize Ennard as. “They’re… not nearly as friendly as us. In all honesty, we don’t feel very welcome so we tend to stay away from them.”

Henry's words echoed eerily similar to ones Gregory heard during his first go-round. Slightly different context, but the same intent—to warn him of the restless spirits down below. At least Henry hoped they'd be a little more lenient to another kid than they were to the adults that'd failed them...

Gregory’s panting reduced to a slight shake. The conversation was familiar to him. For whatever reason, these versions of the ghosts had some long-standing grudge against the founders. Gregory… didn’t exactly blame them. But maybe helping mend the bridge could be the key to saving this broken timeline.

William gently led them back where they came, agreeing with Henry. “They hate us, sure. But how mad could they still be?”

Even if those kids thought he was their murderer for years. He probably wasn’t the nicest to all of them when they were alive. Then again, he didn’t exactly know what was going on inside Henry’s and his business at the time… What he failed to realize was that’s why they were so angry to begin with.

As they started their travel, Gregory offered a suggestion. “Maybe I could talk to them? They might listen to me, as… as another kid, you know?”  

“Maybe...” Henry's voice was distant, mulling over similar thoughts as William. They certainly had more of a grudge against the man trapped in the rabbit suit than Henry overall, although Cassidy and Evan had mixed feelings about Henry unintentionally ejecting them from their decades-old home in the bear suit. “Oh, god... Evan.”

The wince was clear in Henry's voice as he said the name. They'd already told Gregory he and the youngest Afton could be clones with how alike they looked—but that's where the similarities ended. Whereas Gregory was strong-willed and had a good conscience, Evan was just... angry. Being killed by his brother for some stupid “prank” already set him on a bad track, and years with Cassidy's vengeful spirit hadn't helped his psyche.

In another world—most, actually—Evan could've resisted her influence and kept his kind demeanor despite it all once he saw how hard Michael was working to make things right again.

But not in this timeline.

With Michael turning into a murderer and no one around to even try to stop him, Evan had completely fallen into the red-haze of hatred. His prior sweet affect was twisted into biting ire that no one wanted to be on the bad side of.

William winced at the name, springs creaking as he turned his head in visible recoil. He hadn’t been able to speak with his son for a long time. And how could he? William failed to protect him. It was his fault that Michael didn’t know to do better as a brother. It’d all gone to shit at that damned party…

“Maybe… Maybe the others will like you, Gregory. You all have so much in common after all,” William murmured somberly. It took everything in him not to remember—even the good memories of his children would put a deep depression in his very soul. Something so heavy that William found he couldn’t move when paralyzed by the thought. His sweet sons and daughter were gone. Corrupted by death the same as him. Only his wife had the privilege of a clean death, no restless spirits involved….

“I have faith,” Gregory replied, swallowing as his mouth felt dry from his long-winded run.

The flood lights from emergency generators downstairs kept their semi-illuminated path manageable. Gregory knew exactly where they were going; he’d walked this way many times before to visit his friends. It was a path he knew now like the back of his hand.

They were getting close, though Henry was too distracted by their impending encounter to notice that Gregory seemed to be leading the way. The bear looked all around, gaze even wandering up to the ceiling at times. He didn't put it past them to be watching from the shadows...

***

In the diner, it was dark and still. Everyone was doing their own private sulking as was the norm these days, split up throughout the building so they didn't have to be near each other. The only ones remotely close were the old suitemates, and Evan had chosen to linger by the door while Cassidy was sitting on the stage. As Evan stared out through the glass, he caught sight of movement and let out a little gasp.

“Cas!” he called, keeping his eyes fixed to take in the approaching figures. “Get over here—someone's coming...”

“Evan,” Cas said, trying to draw on some old stained construction paper she found. “If I come over there and it’s another lost security bot, I swear…”

Her eyes trailed to the dusty, ash-smeared window and she dropped what she was doing right then and there. She was pressed into Evan’s side in an instant, her stare one of disbelief and curiosity.

“That… Oh, shit—Evan that’s your dad and Henry!” she pointed out, poking the glass as her voice pitched up an octave with anger.

How could those guys show their faces around here?! She was seething. The list of their sins was a long one, but Cas has had a long time to ruminate on all the hardships Evan and her faced due to their negligence.

“I’m doing it—I’m going to kick their asses this time!” Cassidy shouted in vexation. She moved to the door, attempting to knock in the dented metal with her shoulder as she didn’t even wait for Evan’s opinion on the matter.

Outside, Gregory peeked out from behind William as his guardians looked around on high alert. When the knocking from the front of the old diner began, William once again pushed Gregory behind him and Henry.

“Henry!” Will called, as if he too couldn’t also see that they woke something up simply by being there. "They've already spotted us..."

Evan's eyes narrowed as he stared at the old, decrepit suits. Why couldn't these two just leave them alone? They'd already caused enough trauma because they weren't around, and now that everything was said and done they kept trying to “make things right again.” That was never going to happen as far as Evan was concerned, so he crossed his arms with a huff and watched Cassidy lose her shit on the door.

“Oh god...,” Henry groaned, recognizing the two little shapes. On the one hand, they'd encountered the ones without physical bodies, so they couldn't do as much damage as the others should their tempers snap... but they could still do enough to severely inconvenience the trio if they wanted to.

“H-Hey, you two, uh... we know you probably don't want to see us—”

“We don't. Go away.” Evan's tone was cold and harsh—an echo of the infamous attitude that could lead any Afton down a path of destruction should they live long enough to get the chance. So focused on Henry and William, Evan hadn't yet noticed the extra visitor hidden behind the rabbit's leg.

Henry sighed, stopping in his tracks a few feet from the door. “Look—we wouldn't be here if it wasn't desperate. But...”

He paused, debating whether to tell them Michael was on yet another rampage. Instead, he decided to present their guest first and see how they reacted—then they could deliver the bad news. “We've got someone for you to meet. He's... well, you'll see.”

Glancing to Will and Gregory, Henry nodded for the boy to step forward.

This boy wasn't afraid of them—that’s what Cassidy noticed first. Their spirits had been known to wander when the Pizzaplex was still open for business. Eventually the kids that were able to see them found something wrong quickly. Their vision was haunting, just how Cassidy liked it.

Yet this kid looked at them and... smiled?

“Who the fuck are you?” Cassidy asked. Her tone was brash, but not exactly attacking. Now that her anger was redirected, she didn't even want to notice the corpses in those old suits.

Gregory tilted his head and chuckled. Fucking chuckled at her. It was classic Cas, after all. She was always so flighty with people she didn't know—and for good reason! It just made Gregory realize how much he missed the mischievous spirit.

“I'm Gregory... I'm new here,” he said, as though he just moved in to an apartment upstairs. Cassidy shared a look with Evan before turning her sight back on Gregory.

“Are you dead?” she asked bluntly.

“No.” He replied quickly, wondering if that was an issue with her. “But—I almost died. Like... A lot. Never fully kicked it, though...”

There was an uncomfortable beat before William broke it, trying to lighten the mood despite how anxious being around these kids could be for him. “He's in a bad place right now. Figured you all could use a new friend, too.”

Cassidy pointed a sharp little finger at him and enlightened: “We're all in a bad place right now, if you didn't notice...”

She gestured, making Will actually lean away from her as far as possible. He would really rather that one didn't come near him. He scooted closer to Henry, as they seemed to be more hostile towards them than Gregory.

Meanwhile, Evan was just staring at this kid. Cassidy was clearly too pissed at the world as usual to notice that he looked almost exactly like him, if not a few years older. In an astonished whisper, Evan murmured: “What the fuck...?”

“We don't know why he’s got your face, Evan,” Henry said gently, and the ghost's eyes snapped to his. Henry winced, feeling that cold stare bore straight through the metal and mummified remains to his soul. He pushed on, calm and collected—at least, that's the image he hoped to convey. “But... Michael noticed it, too. That's why Gregory's involved in all this. He got stuck in the building and your brother is on another mission to destroy even more people's lives.”

Evan's face ran through a range of emotions as Henry spoke. Suspicion turned to confusion, which turned to surprise and then anger.

“...I knew he was back,” the little ghost snapped. He uncrossed his arms, only to ball his hands into fists at his sides. “Damn it, why can't he just DIE FOR GOOD?! SHIT!”

He slammed one of his fists against the glass, the sound echoing through the dark room. This sudden burst of anger was no surprise to Henry and William, though it was a far cry from the relatively chill Evan that Gregory was used to.

Gregory was taken back by it, but really he felt for him. It hurt to see someone he was once close with in so much mental anguish. It was an impotent rage, the kind where he couldn't do anything about it.

Cassidy's tune only changed when she finally looked Gregory over, not just glancing at him then ignoring. He was a clone; that had to be the only explanation. The boy came come a little closer, sharing his rage.

“It's the Remnant,” Gregory explained, pointing to his eyes. “He used it to stay alive, and now I have it—and I want to help you guys.”

This thought hooked Cassidy in, and as she gently coddled Evan's arm to try and ground the poltergeist, she stared at this strange boy and waited for him to continue.

“I'm going to kill your brother, Evan—for good,” Gregory promised.

Cassidy recognized the quiet rage in Gregory's dead eyes; the way one twitched when he said that he was going to kill their attacker. It was a nice sentiment to know someone out there still cared. But to her, it just seemed like William and Henry were just using Gregory as a means to an end. Did he really understand what he was getting into?

“How? You're just a kid...,” Cassidy said, her voice full of a defeatist attitude. Clearly the topic of Michael was upsetting Evan, and she would rather he didn't break anymore of the shitty diner they had to live in forever now.

This was where Gregory faltered. Really, he didn't have a plan past getting all the ghosts on his side. “That's why I need you and everyone else's help. From what Charlie made it sound like, everyone always tried to face him alone. We need to act together if we're going to destroy him for good.”

“No... It's not enough. I want that bastard to suffer for what he did to us,” Cassidy insisted, not willing to rest until she knew for certain that Michael would regret the day he was born. Then, just when he thought that the sweet release of permeant death would come, she’d rip that promise away. Just like he ripped her life away.

Evan could see Gregory's point, but the rage at Michael's reappearance after everything they'd been through was too much to ignore. He leaned into Cassidy physically and emotionally, hooking his elbow through hers while nodding at her sentiment.

“I'm not letting him go easy,” Evan said, deep brown eyes hardened with determined rage. “In case you didn't know, Gregory—” He spat the name as if mocking the boy's existence. Truthfully, he was peeved this lookalike not only got to live, but was immortal, too. “—on my tenth birthday that fucker I unfortunately call my brother shoved my head in an animatronic's mouth and killed me.”

His gaze flicked dully towards Henry, who physically cringed back. Henry swore he could feel the jaws of this death-trap suit chomping down, locked into position and refusing to let go of Evan's skull until it was far too late. If he could throw up, he'd definitely be retching in a corner right now.

“...Just thought you'd wanna know what you're really up against,” Evan finished in a scarily soft voice, eyes rolling back to his doppelgänger. “Even if we do work together to take him down, I want him to suffer first.”

Gregory had figured out the morbid details of Evan's death in his own timeline due to context clues, but never had he heard it stated so blatantly—especially by the victim. The way Evan spoke about his demise so casually was chilling, and that alone added more credence to why this version absolutely loathed Michael.

Cassidy smirked at the attitude Evan copped with Gregory. Who did this kid think he was? The hero? They were all fucked. Gregory was, too, he just didn't know it yet. But what he said next made her furrow her brows in confusion. It’d been so long since she’d seen empathy; Gregory didn't look offended, he just looked sad.

“I'm sorry that happened. You didn't deserve it... That's why I want to help you guys,” he asserted calmly. It took every ounce of Gregory's being to remember that these guys were hurting just as much as him. They just didn't have the outlet to direct that rage at yet. The grip on Evan's arm relaxed some, and Cassidy shook her head incredulously. “He was going to do things to my head—I know his plan now. He wants to mess with my brain and turn me into his puppet. He's a fucking monster and you guys can do whatever you want with him. I just don't want any more kids to get hurt.”

“How noble...” Cassidy drifted around Gregory some, circling him like a shark as the boy stayed perfectly still, awaiting their impending judgements. “And how do we even know we can trust you? We could just kill you right now and then we don't have to worry if you're lying or not.” She spoke with a smug grin, looking to Evan to see if he was onboard, but Gregory made a noise of disinterest.

“Try it. I dare you. You won't be able to do anything,” Gregory challenged, and William had to intervene.

“Could we all just relax for a second?” he attempted, only to flinch again when Cassidy raised her fist threateningly at him. Will grasped onto his former business partner's shoulders and scooted further behind the shorter bear. “—Please?”

Evan hadn't really paid William any mind, but now he turned that scathing look onto him. His face twisted into a mix of anger and hurt, which soon quelled into what could only be described as extreme annoyance.

“Oh my god, Dad, you're such a fucking coward,” he snapped, cold and ruthless in the way only a destroyed child's spirit could. This caused Henry's frayed nerves to spark and he let out a huff, reaching back to give William an empathetic pat on the arm.

“Curb the attitude, will you?” he remarked, pressing on when he saw Evan puff up to yell more obscenity-laden things. “Despite how you feel about us, we're trying to help. That's what we've been attempting to do this whole time, but like Gregory said, we've all been going at this the wrong way: separately. I think this really is our best bet; regardless of what we do to him, we need to take down Michael together. So can we just have a civil conversation for five minutes?”

Evan's initial reaction was to lash back, letting his useless father and uncle know just how he felt about them. However, they'd already spent enough time tormenting William and Henry. Honestly, with the sad states they were in now it wouldn't be much fun, anyway. After grumbling something under his breath, Evan turned to Cassidy and shrugged.

“Honestly, Cas—even if Gregory is lying, what's he gonna do to us?” he pointed out bluntly. “I say we go along with this dumb plan for now, and if anything's fishy... we kill him, too.”

“Evan...” Henry sighed, though he knew it wasn't his place to try and persuade an Afton once they'd made up their mind. Even their own father couldn't do such a thing, so he didn't stand a chance.

“That torture you reserved for Michael was so kindly blessed upon me. Do forgive me if I'm a bit jumpy,” William said in a crotchety manner, hugging himself despite the lack of feeling voiding the gesture of any comfort. The first time William and his youngest had really spoken in years, and that was what he chose to say.

“...Whatever. I'm bored anyway. But first, I wanna talk to Gregory without the geezers.” Cassidy jutted her thumb over her shoulder at the rotting suits looming over them.

Gregory shrugged. Whatever it takes, he thought. Hopefully as long as they were down here, Mike and his goons wouldn't dare to try and find them.

Bad idea, Henry thought, but he forced himself not to say this aloud. Gregory had a point—with the Remnant in his veins, he couldn't really die... Though the ghosts could certainly make his existence hell if they wanted to. Still, it didn't seem like they had much of a choice—not if they wanted Evan and Cassidy's help.

“...Five minutes,” Henry said eventually, pointing an oversized finger at the ghosts. “No more.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Evan waved away Henry's concerns. “We just wanna talk; stop freaking out.”

Henry huffed, but again decided not to argue. Instead he turned to William, not having the energy to be annoyed when used as a shield in the face of yet another one of his angry children. He was just tired and wanted this to be over as soon as possible. “You and I can go find Lizzie and Ennard; I'm sure they're around here somewhere.”

“Good luck—wherever Lizzie is, Ennard's gonna be on the opposite end of the diner,” Evan remarked with a snicker, the only remotely helpful thing he'd said all night.

William was dreading to see Elizabeth. He wasn't sure what was going to happen when they met again for the first time in forever. A part of him thought maybe it would be better if he just butted out of the afterlives of his kids; still, a part of him was curious. He did miss them, after all—but he really missed the versions of them he could reminisce about in his mind.

“Thanks for the heads-up,” he said to Evan, neutral and calm. There wasn't a need or a want to speak with him right now. So he encouraged Henry with a nudge to go towards the diner, their first foray to search for his daughter...

Gregory to Cassidy and Evan, both who were skeptically scanning him and causing him to sweat under his collar. “Uh... So I was wondering—”

“Shut up.” Cassidy said, coming over and looking over Gregory with a sordid skepticism. She lifted one of his arms, trying to see if the kid was even strong. Surprisingly, he had a small bulge of muscle at his bicep, though she knew it wouldn't be enough to fight off a guy like Mike—the man without psychotic strength and at least a foot and a half over Gregory's height.

“So... I don't get it. Are you going to try and fist fight him?” she asked, smirking at how he just let her move him around. He must be some kind of pushover.

“Fuck that,” Gregory responded quickly, surprising Cassidy with the way he snapped a look at her. “He's got a taser and that thing fucking hurts. I was wondering if you guys had any ideas because you've all dealt with him before...”  

Evan and Cassidy shared a look, before the boy gave a noncommittal shrug.

“Honestly? Until he so rudely shoved us out to make room for Henry, we've been stuck in the Fredbear suit forever,” he explained, crossing his arms again. “We couldn't really do much to him 'cause that thing fucking sucked, but we scared him shitless a few times...”

He glanced at Cassidy, both of them snickering at the memories. Once they'd come to a mutual understanding over their hatred of Michael, they'd gotten along quite well. Evan thought for another moment, a more serious expression crossing his features. Eventually, he spoke in a slow voice. “...He's too full of himself. He's gotten away with so much over the years, he thinks he can do anything—that's how us and the others have been able to trick him so much. He's smart in some ways, but he's really fucking stupid in others.” 

Gregory knew this was a dangerous game that they were playing, though the best part about everything was that he could simply reset the moment his watch detected an anomaly in the timeline. Not that he even realized it was an option to reset until it was forced upon him...

Gregory nodded at Evan, scratching his shaggy head with his previously broken hand and mentioned: “We could trick him into thinking he has the upper hand. I’d say use me as bait, but if the plan goes south and he brainwashes me, a lot of people are going to die.”

Cassidy was about to call him out on his exaggeration, but the measured way he spoke made her think twice. Coupled by the long look in his gaze, she assumed he knew things about Michael's plan that would only hurt him to recount.

“Well... What’s he using to brainwash people? If it's technology, I have an idea.” Cassidy’s lips curled into a soft but dangerously unhinged smile. “If we can get him to use it, I could create a brand new hellscape for your brother.”

Gregory's eyes widened with interest. “It's a virtual reality headset! That'd be perfect! But... The trick would be getting it on him instead of me.”

He pointed out the plan’s only flaw: no matter how excited Cassidy was to torture Mike, she needed to stay realistic as far as their goals went. The smallest Afton’s face was twisted in deep thought. Cassidy’s plan was brilliant, but the problem with it was just as prominent. Unless—

“Maybe… I could pretend to be you?” he suggested tentatively. “I mean, we’re not like a hundred percent match—”

Damn Gregory for growing up when he never got the chance.

“—but if we rile him up enough, we might be able to trick him. He can’t brainwash me if I’m already dead… and when he tries, that’s when you guys can come out and attack.” Evan grinned wickedly, then glanced down at his grey-striped t-shirt. “We just gotta make sure he somehow sees us wearing the same clothes or it’s not gonna work…”

“What if we swapped clothes?” Gregory asked, pinching his shirt and holding it out and away from his torso. 

“Ew, yours has gross stuff all over it,” Cassidy replied with her tongue stuck out between her teeth, making Gregory roll his eyes on instinct.

“Yeah, well, you’ve been wearing the same outfit for forty years, so…,” he said defensively. Cassidy crossed her arms at that, but had no way to dispute the out the hypocrisy in her logic.

“Yeah, well—” Cassidy began mockingly, “— I don’t even know if we can change. I haven’t tried before.”

Evan seemed to mirror this train of thought, cringing at the dried vomit. “Yeah… I dunno if I can take this off, but since we can touch stuff I bet I can put a new shirt over it.”

The little ghost pursed his lips, looking out the dirty glass doorway into the dim hall. Then, his gaze shifted once again to Gregory and his mouth curled in a determined grin.

“So how soon are we gonna get this done?”

***

Further in the diner, Henry was cautiously leading the way towards the employee only rooms. He knew the place like the back of his hand—he’d built the thing after all, and it was simply a copy of the original location with a few added features. He and Will had their eyes peeled for movement, hoping to catch the circus-themed scrapped animatronic before she surprised them unawares first.

William was getting a deep-seated queasy feeling by just being in this place. After being locked into one of the backrooms for decades in a similar location, he really didn’t want to return. However, they had no choice in the matter; he’d put himself through hell to find his daughter again.

As they glanced around the party rooms, on high alert for any noises, William spoke to his former friend.

“Henry… Am I a coward?” he asked, apparently deeply affected by what his son had said to him earlier. Maybe he wasn’t ready for Henry’s answer. Either that, or changing was harder than William had first anticipated it to be.

Henry paused and slowly turned his head, his scoff conveying the incredulous expression he wore internally. “Do you really want me to answer that, Will?”

William Afton was a coward. To not be able to just open up and talk to your best friend about your hardships, let alone strangle his daughter in a drunken rage because of this… Henry couldn’t think of many acts more cowardly than that.

Looking at William now though, he was quite literally a shell of his former self—physically and figuratively. The years in his personal prison gave him time to think, and while he’d never be forgiven for what he’d done, he had come to terms with it and apologized. Henry didn’t doubt at this point the words were genuine, though they were too little too late.

Heaving a sigh, the old bear moved to place a paw on Will’s shoulder.

“Don’t let it get to you, okay? They’re dead and pissed, just like the rest of us. And you…” He trailed off for a moment, then gave Will’s shoulder a rough pat and moved back to searching, adding in a low voice: “You’re doing your best to protect everyone, and I… appreciate that.”  

“I don’t deserve it…,” William rasped out, sighing when his lackluster search was already showing up fruitless. He gently set down a bench to the ratty old booth and pulled away. It wasn’t like he wanted to; it was a knee-jerk reaction. Before Henry could question what he meant, William told him: “I don’t deserve your kindness after what I did. You helped me and I didn’t deserve it, Henry…”

If Henry wanted Will to open up before, now was too late. William shut his mouth and kept on moving for the back of the diner now. His son ripped apart a terrible wound with one simple phrase, and it was utterly deserved.

There was a distinct scratching sound coming from the back that William began to follow. It caused him concern, though it couldn’t be anything Michael was cooking up for them. It had to be a spirit.

“Elizabeth…? Are you back here?” he beckoned gently, cautiously glancing around the counters.  

Henry fell silent at Williams’s words. Even if he did want to debate him, now wasn’t the time. They could go over past wounds as they’d done so many times before once this was all over.

He heard the sound in tandem with Will, shifting close to the rabbit again so whichever metallic-based entity this was couldn’t catch both of them by surprise. Hesitantly, Henry called out after his former partner’s questioning: “Lizzie? Hey, if you’re here, we really need to talk to you...”

Maybe she’d respond a little better to him than her father? Out of all the ghosts, Elizabeth had the least personal beef with the Emily’s—Henry included.

At Henry's pleading tone, there was a loud crash in the back that made William jump. There was a tall and uneven figure looming in the hall going towards the party rooms. William had to crane his head to look into the darkness...

“Elizabeth!” William called. The hope in his heart was that she'd come to him openly, but he scolded himself for thinking so optimistically on it.

The sound of rusty gears whirred with every step the giant took. When it met whatever spare lightening was available, the broken and worn down face of Circus Baby stared back at them both. She was quiet, holding her mangled hands in front of her as scrap-wire hair bounced with the tilting of her head. She stared at them from the threshold, too stupefied to move for a moment.

It was like she didn't recognize them at first, the last memory of her father a distant and terrible one. The day of his side business opening, and subsequent closing was the last day she was lucky enough to spend with her family and friends. What little of both she had left...

“...Daddy?” Liz called eventually, broken and hurt.

Why now? How were they even here?

Something was either wrong, or maybe her spirit had finally released from this mortal plane's grip. Charlie told her that might happen eventually. It takes a long time to let go of a grudge, after all...

At the pathetic sound of his daughter's scared voice, William moved for her. He almost wanted to ask what on earth happened, but knew better. He instead trapped her in his arms, feeling the broken and jagged pieces of her frame poking into the outer stuffing of his molded suit. She was shaking.

“I'm here—” Will soothed, holding the back of her head gently. “I'm here now, don't be sad...”

“Where were you? You just left!” Lizzie would be sobbing if she was physically capable. “I-I waited. You just left me...”

William couldn't answer her like this. He didn't have the strength to continually disappoint her so.

God, this was painful to watch. Henry had to look away, reminded far too much of his own first reunion with Charlie once he realized her soul had been lingering behind all along. He'd faced a similar line of questioning:

“Where were you? Why weren't you there to stop him? You and Puppet were supposed to protect me...”

Although to Charlie's credit, she didn't hold the grudge for long. She knew her father was in no way responsible for her death. He'd done his best to be there for William, and it was the other man who simply couldn't take the help and fell down a dark path stained with drunken rage.

Watching Will try to comfort yet another obviously confused, angry child, Henry cast his mind upstairs to where his own daughter still roamed. Her android body was an improvement, but with a busted arm from their last encounter with Michael she could only do so much... and since they hadn't gotten a chance to recommission the Puppet—who knew where that thing even was at this point—Charlie was left to fend for herself yet again.

All alone... just like Lizzie had been for so long.

At some point, Liz attempted to beat against William's chest with her hands, emotional and completely convicted in her feelings as she simulated a sniffle. “I can't believe you never looked in the stupid robots...”

“I'm an idiot,” William agreed. “I have to live this existence with the knowledge of what I did—what I let Michael get away with. I failed you and Evan...” He held Elizabeth out to see her, but she glanced away. “Look at me—I wasn't there for you then. Let me be there for you both now.”

Even if he could make right by just one of his children, he knew that would be enough for him to bare. Liz seemed hesitant to trust anyone. She herself became quite the untrustworthy person over the years while she was in search of the person who killed her. How could she put faith the man who never found her when she became just as bad as them?

Her answer was finally allowing her head to fall against her dad’s shoulder without violence or protest. It's not like her punches seemed to really register with William anyway.

“I'm sorry, Lizzie... My sweet little girl...” Even with her demented appearance, William knew the person inside. The scary anger she put up as a defensive wall couldn't trick her father.

Please, Charlie, you'd better be alright up there, Henry thought, casting his gaze to the crumbling, scorched ceiling. The touching scene made his hands itch with the desire to bring his own daughter into his arms and never let her go again. He gave William and Elizabeth a moment before speaking up, retaining his place a few feet away as he gently cleared his throat.

“Lizzie... I'm sorry, too,” he told her softly, unbothered when that deranged clown face turned to him. He'd seen far worse during his life—and afterlife, to boot. Henry shook his head, the self-directed anger apparent in his voice. “I could've checked the animatronics as well; I could've done a much better job tracking Michael down and finding out what happened...”

It wouldn't have stopped her fate, though. Only how long it took for someone else to realize she was still hanging around.

“But like your dad said, we're here for you now,” Henry added with a measured gaze. “We promise.”

“Us, Charlie, our new friend Gregory. You have all of us again,” William said, the crumpled snout of his rabbit nose bumping the top of her head as he held his daughter in a comforting hold.

“Charlie? She's okay...?” Lizzie questioned tentatively.

“Yes love, she's just fine. We're going to find her. You two can play just as you used to...” William looked over to Henry, inviting him closer with his hand.

They needed to tell her about Michael, the one condition standing in the way of their happiness. They would never be able to forget everything that happened, but god damn it they could at least try to heal once he was gone—even if it hurt William to think about the inevitability of his eldest son's demise.

“You mentioned another...,” Liz said, looking now to both her father and Henry with those wide green eyes. “Who is Gregory?”

“He's a new friend; he's helping us with a few things,” Henry responded, stepping over to the pair to place a paw on Elizabeth's back. He rubbed a soothing up and down pattern, ignoring the occasional snags as a jutting piece of metal met his fuzzy outer casing.

“Gregory's a little spitfire—I think you're going to like him,” Henry encouraged with a smile, and god did he hope that was true. His eyes met William's, then he glanced over his shoulder. “...And he's also alone with Evan and Cassidy right now, so we should probably go and check on him. Will you come with us, Liz?”

She was more fragile than either of the guardians had realized, so it would be best to ease her into the Michael thing. Introduce Gregory first, then when they were altogether they could reveal their true motives for disturbing the peace of the diner.

“Oh no...” Liz murmured, now worried in a totally new way. Her head swiveled to look back and forth from her father and honorary uncle. “Those guys are little gremlins sometimes. We should definitely see what they’re up to.”

Her relationship with the others was... interesting. Elizabeth wasn't as outgoing as she used to be, as she found her own appearance more off-putting as the years went on. Despite the other's dismay, Liz would often talk to them through the doors, only ever coming out when Evan was having a total meltdown or when Cassidy threatened to go above and make more "friends" for them.

She followed William and Henry through the front doors, the first time in a long time stepping out into the dry basement air. Gregory was sitting down, his hair in the hands of Cassidy as she was making tiny braids with industrial elastics they found. The boy didn't look particularly happy about it, and Liz thought this might’ve been some kind of peace offering to the girl in exchange for her not ripping his heart out through his chest. The strange boy was talking with Evan as he was having his hair done in a casual manner.

“—No it's super over-powered for a laser-gun. I think it'd be a good idea to pick up a Fazblaster. If you hit them in the eyes just right you can stun the animatronics,” Gregory explained, clearly in the midst of plotting.

“Whoa, for real?!” Evan was sitting cross-legged in front of Gregory, listening him to explain all the stuff going on upstairs with rapt interest. It'd been a long time since someone caught his attention like this, and Evan was pleased to find out that not only were Gregory's looks intriguing, so was his personality. In another lifetime, Evan thought they could've been really good friends...

But he wasn't so sure he knew how to make friends anymore after his years of being tormented and jaded by the horrendousness of human nature. At least he was trying, though.

The definitive stomping of heavy animatronics directed his attention back to the door, and he perked up even more when none other than his sister stepped through with their father and uncle in tow. “Lizzie! You came outside!”

Gregory looked behind Evan, watching as the clunky old animatronic clown raised her makeshift claw hand to wave at the group. It was a little embarrassing being called out in such a way, but Liz would survive. Her little brother was just happy to see her, much to her own surprise.

“I heard we were planning something. I want in, too,” she replied with a smile in her tone of voice. “I’m glad you all decided not to hurt the new kid. Very proud of you.”

Cassidy was quick to finish the twin to her original braid on Gregory’s head. Rushing to Elizabeth, she punched the junkyard clown’s leg playfully.

“Yes! We’re going to fuck up Michael!” she proclaimed happily. Although she hated the fact she was still here in the first place, Cassidy would be anything but helpless in her eternal prison.

“Oh no…,” William remarked, looking down at Gregory as he approached. Pointing to the, in his opinion, abominable hairstyle, a fraction of William’s old humor snuck through the raincloud that'd become his personality. “We’re too late. Look, she massacred him.”

“Yeesh...” Henry reeled back dramatically, shaking his head. “So sorry, Gregory—we didn't make it in time to save your look...”

A tiny giggle sounded in the dim, echoing hallway. To everyone's utter shock, Evan had raised a hand to his mouth as if to physically stop another laugh from squeaking out. He couldn't help it—he hadn't been in this good of mood for as long as he could remember. And he had always thought his dad and Henry were hilarious when they wanted to be...

“Yeah, Liz—” the littlest Afton piped up, loudly as if to deflect from his slip-up. His face melted into another expression of cold determination, the tinniest, dull smile quirking up his lips. “—Mike's back and he's trying to start shit again. Gregory's been helping us make a plan to get rid of him for good.”

“Have you... come up with anything?” Henry asked tentatively, not wanting the children's good moods to turn sour again if he asked the wrong questions. Evan's gaze briefly landed on the old bear, though the child didn't make any other snide comments his way.

“Sure have,” he responded simply. “Cassidy's gonna make another hellscape to trap him, and I'm gonna be bait to lure him in.”

“We already look so much alike.” Gregory filled in, pointing to his hair. “Evan can alter his appearance. I can’t do that so easily, so Cassidy’s making me a disguise. Is it… working?”

Gregory asked, shaking the shortest Dutch braids on his head. Liz was covering her mouth, determined not to laugh, but with the way Gregory looked expectantly at them she was finding it difficult.

“I think she was just messing with you, sport,” William said bluntly, picking up the short braid at the back of Gregory’s head and letting it drop down again as he chuckled. “You look like a proper debutante now.”

Gregory groaned at this, swatting away Will’s hand. “—ANYWAY! We’re going to Fazerblast and Evan’s going to steal the gun they keep there. That way I can shoot any of the animatronics around the Pizzaplex!”

Will raised an eyebrow at this prospect and turned to Henry, arms crossed. “You call me irresponsible—your son is leaving guns at the attractions now?”

“Oh, don't even start,” Henry griped, his eyes rolling to the sky. Though, admittedly, it did unnerve him that Sammy would leave such powerful “weapons” where anyone could reach them...

Flashlights already did a number on older animatronics, but he and Sam had worked hard over the years to assure such weak light didn't temporarily fry their circuits as much. But to make laser tag guns that could stun even the Glamrocks? What had Sammy been getting up to in his father's absence?

“We're tired of waiting around,” Evan remarked, looking between the group. “Mike always came to us, but now we're going to bring the trap to him. Gregory and I wanted to go up as soon as we told you the plan, so... now we're ready. Who's coming with?”

Despite his outward confidence, Evan was nervous to go up top after such a long time. He had no clue what this “Pizzaplex” would look like, let alone the “Glamrocks.” Gregory had described the place as a mall, and the animatronics had a retro 80s look... which didn't mean much to Evan who was still a bit stuck in the 80s. All he knew was along with the old classics, there was an alligator and a wolf that he did not want to make contact with if at all possible.

Cassidy floated by Evan’s side, bumping him out of his thoughtful stupor with her shoulder.

“I’m going if you’re going,” she stated, refusing to leave her friend. Half because she couldn’t leave him alone, half because she herself didn’t trust being by herself without Evan after all this time stuck together. She happened to notice Liz moving in on the other side, trying as gently as she could to kneel on the cold ground besides them.

“I haven’t been out in a while. Could be nice, especially if I was with you all,” Elizabeth tried earnestly, playing with her broken claw as she spoke.

William was surprised at how they turned around to the idea so quickly. He figured it might have taken Elizabeth some convincing, but she was must have missed them severely. In a sad way, it warmed his cold and long-still heart.

“Of course I'm going with you!” Evan replied, giving her a shove not unlike Cassidy had done to him. He had no ill-will towards his sister. Honestly, she and Charlie had been the only one protecting him from Michael's ire when they were alive, and even in death Lizzie never raised a threatening hand to him. “It's like a little family vacation, except... to another Pizzeria instead of somewhere fun.”

It was then that Evan's head turned, that wizened gaze locking onto the man he called “father.” For a few long, tense seconds he simply stared, as if figuring out what exactly he wanted to say to the decrepit rabbit. He eventually settled on remaining silent, though he gave William a small nod before looking away.

Was the old man suddenly forgiven for his neglect?

Absolutely not.

But could this be a small step to reconcile with the son he'd lost far too young?

...Perhaps.

“Well, Will and I are obviously your backup,” Henry spoke up, giving William a pat on the arm. He'd caught Evan's look as well and knew his former old friend's mind was probably going in circles trying to figure out what it meant. Henry tilted his head slightly in thought. “We've got to find Charlie, though—I have no clue where she is, and she needs to get fixed up before things get crazier around here...”

Will would remain nervous about his son's approval, but he was wise to know that it would only do him harm to look too far into it. At Henry's reminder, Will's threw his hands up and grasped his asymmetrical ears.

“Charlie! Shit, Hen, we have to go!” he exclaimed, grasping onto Gregory's hand and gently pulling him to his feet. Just as Evan compared, William led their party like a father trying to get everyone out of the house to finally start a long-anticipated vacation. “Come; Charlie's been looking for the Puppet and she's probably worried sick about us!”

He wasn't exactly worried for the restless spirit. She’d grown so resourceful over the years and didn't doubt her ability to hide from the others. Yet there was still some base level of concern, same as for the others despite their deceased status. Of course, even partially alive now, Gregory was included in this group. The boy used to be a fighter, too cagey to be touched and always wiggling from people's grasps. He had seemingly calmed down, in William's opinion.

“Where do you all think she went?” Gregory asked, looking over his shoulder to Henry, as he was presumably running around and having the shit scared out of him during Charlie’s disappearance. Or rather, he’d been ejecting contents of his stomach from that Remnant injection...

“Knowing Charlie, she's either looking for us and Puppet, or trying to fix herself up. Oh—” Henry noticed their newest three companions looking at him with a mixture of alarm and confusion, and realized not all of them would know about his secret android project. Honestly, at this point it was hard to remember who he'd told what to over the years...

“—looong story short,” Henry went on, speaking quickly as they walked. “Before Mike trapped me in this suit I was working on a... passion project, let's call it. I made Charlie a new body that looked like her old, human self, and she was able to transfer her soul to it, so she and the Puppet are separate now.”

“What?!” Evan asked incredulously. What a strange concept, having a robotic body that would look just as his ghost appeared now. He wasn't entirely sure he'd like it. “Wait, so Charlie's just... running around like she used to?”

“Yup, and your bastard of a brother nearly tore her arm off when she was protecting Gregory.” Henry's tone went cold for a moment, before he let out a little sigh. The past was the past—time to move forward. “So, reasoning that she has no clue where we went and wouldn't want to spend all her time searching... I bet you anything she's in Parts & Service patching up that limb.”

“We'll go there first then,” Liz agreed, following their lead. She’d been inside the diner for so long, this whole warehouse-like structure was all new to her. The lonesome sanctuary where she spent her time had sheltered her from the construction of the entire Pizzaplex, though she’d heard rumors about it from Cassidy's wandering around.

“That's so crazy to me. I honestly can't imagine her and the Puppet as two different people now,” Cassidy remarked. Her first time meeting Charlie—that she could recall—was while she was already in the lanky jester.  

In agreement, the group began the trek back up to the surface of the Pizzaplex. Soon, they were bathed in the dim fluorescent lighting of the backrooms after entering in through the unmarked, heavy metal door. The low, persistent hum of the lightbulbs buzzing would put anyone on edge, and for Gregory, he couldn’t help but shudder. The ambient noise did well to give Gregory flashbacks of hiding to nothing but that sound and the footsteps of murderous robotic animals hounding for his blood.

***

Previous Chapter ~~ Next Chapter

Looking for more? Check out the Chapter Masterlist on Tumblr!

Or check out the entire Wires that Bind Us Series on ao3!

[aealzx]

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Phantom Rogues (Prequel)

Next

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“Would yOU PEOPLE JUST LISTEN!”

Danny’s exasperated anger was punctuated by a sharp ecto shotgun blast into the nearest tank the GIW had amassed. They were still trying to destroy the Infinite Realms, new agents having convinced the older ones that the Infinite Realms being connected to their realm was a hoax to keep them from following through. Jazz, Sam, and Tucker were all barricaded behind what remained of their equipment, so it was only Danny and Danielle who remained amidst this reality ripped in between the two realms that GIW’s stupid equipment had created. Yet once again Danny wasn’t able to continue his attack, getting cut off by a mostly startled scream from Danielle as they once again focused their fire on her. First it had been the humans of the team, now it was Danielle, and it was really starting to piss Danny off.

“Stop targeting her you sick bastards! She’s fourteen!” Danny belted, flying yet again between their weapons and Danielle, and blasting the cannon with a prolonged stream of ectoplasm to bend its course. They would soon shift it back to pointing at them, but at least that took a few seconds.

“So you claim. Yet the only thing it means for us is that she’s a liability for you. You’re the stronger one, but you’ll let your guard down for her. A pathetic imitation of humanity that may have won over the Fentons, but not us. We know you’re nothing but an imitation of humans made by nothing more than destructive residue.” That was Operative N, the new blood that had worked up the ranks. Danny liked to call him Nimrod.

“We’re not faking it!” Danny shouted back, feeling his voice crack with the desperate protest. “SOME ghosts are residue, but others are just as sentient and full of good emotions as humans are.” If only he could turn this stupid human into a ghost so he could see it too. But life, even stupid life, was too precious to waste just to prove a point.

“....Test run the experiment,” Operative N directed, unfazed by Danny’s outburst. The Operative next to him stepped forward as others to the sides of them started firing a barrage of ectoblasts their way. It was a distraction to keep their attention, Danny knew that. But Danielle still wasn’t as good as he was, and he didn’t miss the way the experimental blaster pulsed red instead of green. He couldn’t let Danielle get hit by that, so when she let out another yelped scream, getting hit by three ectoblasts, Danny flung himself into her when the other Operative took that as an opening.

The experimental blaster was faster than the originals, and Danny didn’t have time to bring up a shield after body slamming Danielle away. He could only tense in preparation for the damage, knowing he could handle more than Danielle could when it came to a beating.

He wasn’t ready for this.

The bloody red blast of energy wasn’t ectoplasm, and when it slammed into Danny’s chest his voice ripped from him in a startled scream of agony as he realized what they had done. The barbed wire poison splitting his ghostly skin held a familiar scorching dry flame feeling that he’d only experienced once before, a hand flying to his ribs as he crashed to the ground and couldn’t help curling into a ball, deaf to his friends’ and family’s cries for him.

Those freaks had weaponized blood blossoms.

It was worse than being trapped in a barrier of them, the poison now sank into his flesh instead of caressing it with noxious fumes. The fight wasn’t over though, so he willed his twitching limbs to work as he wanted them to, shoving them underneath himself to push himself upright, never mind the green blood dripping from his side.

“There we go,” Operative N commented emotionlessly, motioning with his hand to another Operative. “Use him now.”

That was the only warning Danny had before a clamp half his size snapped down on top of him, binding him in its case and pulling him from the broken ground. Danny let out a strangled noise as his arm was smashed against his injured ribs, legs scrambling to try and remain connected to the soil and feeling the anti ghost barrier keeping him trapped in the prickly bindings. It was only when he heard a slight click, and the fat needles poking into his skin started ripping energy from him that he vaguely remembered something about them using him as a battery for their machine. They obviously didn’t care how it treated him either, for Danny could swear getting electrocuted hurt less.

“Scream all you want, Phantom. Not even you could break out of there now that we’ve worn you down,” Operative N commented, having the audacity to sound bored.

Danny barely registered Danielle repeatedly sinking what power she could into the clamp that had a hold of him, but it didn’t seem effective. He hadn’t wanted to resort to blowing everything up, not sure what the machines would do to the realms they were connected to if they burst from overload.

But at this point he didn’t see any other option. If the realms were going to blow up, then he’d rather they blow up because he tried to save them.

If you want to hear me scream, then I’ll scream.

Danny’s defiant thought was accompanied by him forcing his mouth to snap shut, struggling with half stifled gasps to fill his lungs with as much air as they could hold. It took a minute too long, but as soon as he maxed out the air he could hold Danny forced it out again in a drawn out wail.

Jazz had expressed before that she hated hearing Danny’s ghostly wail. She’d even commented that the name itself seemed like a pathetic attempt to calm the fears of children when stories were told about it. As Danny’s abilities had advanced the wail became less of a B movie imitation of ghosts and more of a source of nightmares. A distorted sound of burst eardrum silence smothered by shrieking similar to subtle tinnitus, but with the undertone of the voices of those who had died screaming.

Jazz always heard her brother’s voice over the others.

This was the first time Danny had fully figured out how to make his wail non directional. An orb of earth shattering sound rippling in waves from his form, crushing the machines around them like sealed cans dropped in liquid nitrogen. The only reason his allies weren’t hurt was because the waves were strangely more gentle in their direction, just enough that Danielle could hold a barrier over them while they pressed their palms to their ears, collapsing to their knees.

The wailing only lasted slightly less than two minutes, but the chain reaction explosions continued for several more. As soon as the device holding him was broken Danny let out a ripple of ectoplasm to shatter it. Then soft coils snapped out and wrapped around his allies, dragging them closer to his floating form where he could raise a shield around all of them.

Sam took charge of shielding Tucker and Danielle with her own body as realm rending explosions thrashed their tiny bubble to and fro. Danny was able to keep them from being thrown against the sides of the barrier, but none of them could even attempt to stand with all the vibrations of varying intensities. Jazz stole as long of a look at Danny as she could since she couldn’t do anything else, feeling her heart skip a beat when she saw the hole punched into the left side of his chest, blast marks searing out from it to cover his shoulder and nick his cheek. All of the wounds were oozing the green blood Danny had as Phantom, but he didn’t seem to be paying them any mind.

Another sharp, shuddering jerk signaled the end of their whirlwind ride, and suddenly the group had perfectly still, solid ground under them and silence ringing in their ears. It was deafening, in a good way compared to the wail from before, and Jazz heard the others mimic her shuddering breaths. But before she could visually check on her brother she heard him fall. Nothing like the exhausted drops he did when he couldn’t quite make it to the ground before letting gravity take hold of him again. It was the heavy crumple of a human body being dumped. And as Jazz snapped her head up Danny’s face fell into her view, his eyes closed and figure completely limp. Jazz watched his cheeks drain from color as a new spot of red bloomed across his white shirt, and her voice refused to speak.

Scrambling to her baby brother, Jazz cupped a hand to his cheek, horrified at the rapidly dropping temperature of his skin and using her other hand to shake his shoulder as roughly as she dared. Her voice found itself in moments to scream what had been repeating in her head.

“DANNY!”

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IIiiii am not immune to brain rot |D If you’re confused, good, I am too

Today my brain chose violence, and gave me some of the details of what led to the DP team getting ported to DC verse. So I wrote them while spamming the same 6 songs X’D And then I drew 2 pictures because I wanted both vibes.

This is getting way more attention that I even guessed might happen * wheeze *, so just a few disclaimers just so people are aware:

the DP crew are 2 years older than in the cartoon. because I can

Jack and Maddie are becoming really good parents. Because I’m tired of the “omg I’m a teenager and my parents suck” trope. They know Danny and Danielle are halfas, and it took them about a year to fully accept that. Now they’re rewriting studies to support sentient ghosts and more humane ways to deal with the violent ones.

It’s only in the recent months that they’ve started to actually study ways to help ghosts/halfas. So a lot of medical stuff for them is still unknown, but Jazz knows a bit more first aid than the average teen.

I’m not going to have romance at all. I find pushing the platonic boundaries way more fun and interesting. If you think it's romance, it's not.

I’m also more interested in Danny and Jazz’s sibling relationship than whatever either of them have going on with Sam and Tucker.

No update schedule. I follow the whims of my not normal brain.

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Tag list: @galaxy-sharks-and-bottled-ships, @starscreamlover, @nerdynonnativenarnian, @dragongoblet, @zeestarfishalien, @bellathecatastrophe, @cj-ghostemoji-destielpie, @asexual-insomniac, @wolfeyedwitch

[hoshigray]

Request! Geto never had to worry bc reader basically never interacts with guys. That 3we until he saw her hugging her male coworker and now he has to put her in place if ykiwm😋

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: oh yikesss, possessive sugu incoming, oof. lmao this is lowkey like the one i did for my kinktober, but what the hell

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Geto x afab/fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - canon divergence; Geto is a jujutsu tech sorcerer - shibari; rope bondage (cross-chest box tie, frogtie) - sex toys; use of a vibrator - fingering (f! receiving) - clitoral play (swiping and pinching) - pleasure denial - mild possessive behavior - pet names (angel, baby, pretty girl, my love, sweetie) - cameo: Gojo - mention of drool/saliva.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.3k

“Hahhh…ahhaa, Sug’ruu, I can’t…Mmm!”

“Aww, are you feeling well, my love? You look awful.”

And whose fault would that be?

Geto removes his jacket to put aside one of the chairs of the many desks. He stretches his sides and cracks his neck, releasing a massive sigh after a long inhale. He’s now relaxed that he’s back in his classroom. 

However, he isn’t the only one here. Someone he knows is here with him — waiting for him to return. And Geto’s lips curl into a smile once he looks down to see someone on the cold wooden floor.

You were in nude form, clothes sprawled to the side of you. A long red rope contorts around your body, binding your arms behind your back with your wrists tied together. Your thighs and ankles were restricted together; the red ropes tied the leg together to that of a frog-like position. And a red blindfold covers your line of sight. You were whining and writhing in this bounded position. Why? 

Geto slowly walks around you to take in the view, noticing that the vibrators he placed on your body were still where he had left it. Your nipples had a vibrator taped on to each, and the buzzing noises made Geto’s skin crawl. There was another set of bullet vibrators buzzing down south. Three white wires are connected to a remote lying on the floor, and they seem to be stuffed inside the wet entrance of your chasm. So, five vibrators are teasing your body all at once. What a hell. 

He comes down to your level, bringing you up with a hand to lie on his propped knee, and your breathing so low and hushed. “How are you feeling, angel?” He lifts the blindfold to have you peek at him, noticing your eyes are puffy and wet. Poor thing was crying for him.

“Sugu…” You called him by his nickname, a tool in hopes of getting on his good side. “Can you…please…”

Dark eyebrows raise, “Please what, pretty girl?” He shields your eyes again and slithers his hand down from your chin to your neck, and he loves how your breathing lessens when he approaches your breasts. He pulls off one taped vibrator to free the bud. For a moment before he blows on it, “What do you want from me?”

“Can I—Ohh!” His tongue flicks your nipple; it’s so sensitive and sore! “Can I please…cum…?”

“Ahh, what a dirty girl,” Geto chuckles to you as he kisses your mound, his hand now traveling further down to the three wires on the floor. He gently pulls one, a loud noise of one vibrator bumping into another. “You were doing so well being patient for me. I have one more meeting, baby; why can’t you wait after that?”

Your breathing gets shaky, leaning towards his frame to get through. “Because...Mmmm, I want you to make me feel—Ohh…! Good...”

“Is that right?” More laps around your nipple before he sucks it in. “You want me to make you feel good? Not Satoru?” You gulped at the mention of the other’s name, feeling Geto’s intense, indigo gaze on your face. 

In all honesty, Geto admits he can be a jealous man — especially regarding you, his sweet angel. The reason why you’re in this situation is because your partner saw you hug another man yesterday. Satoru Gojo, the dark-haired man’s best friend of all people! Granted, it was because you were only giving a gift of sweets to the tall sorcerer because he came back from a terrible, dangerous mission with Geto. And the white-haired fool, oblivious to personal space as always, brought you in for a hug as he thanked you for the bag of sweets you handed him. 

Putting his hands on you did make Geto unpleasant, yet this was Gojo we were talking about; the guy acts like personal boundaries don’t apply to him. However, what did upset the man more was you reciprocating the embrace with a cheerful smile — a smile only Geto was to bear witness to. It twinged his heart – cliche, but it did. You toyed with his feelings, and he had to correct you for such behavior. 

The man increases the intensity of the vibrators inside your cunt, and your body jerks unexpectedly. He then slides a finger inside your vagina to play around your walls with the toys, and you have to remind yourself not to scream as his fingertips scrape the velvet texture. “You hurt my feelings, sweetie,” he listens to your whimpers get higher and higher as he increases the speed of his finger. “You know I’m not one for sharing — especially with Satoru.” 

“Hahhh, Sugu’uuu, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—“ You press your lips together to suppress a moan once Geto takes your nipple back into his mouth, pushing the nub to the roof of his mouth and skimming it with his teeth. A sharp gasp escapes your frame at the addition of another finger inside you, and more tears well up from how much stimulation is happening. “Nmoohh, please, I won’t do it again…”

“You promise?” He whispers into your ear, slowly removing his fingers to increase the intensity of the vibrators inside you. Those same fingers now go to your clit where he swipes in slow circles, and you nearly choke on your spit. “Tell me, who’s my favorite girl?” 

“Mee! I’m y’re favorite…!” Despite the ropes tightening around your ankles and thighs, your lower half still jolts to his touch on your delicate pearl, trying to sway your hips to move with the friction. 

“And who’s your only favorite man in this world?”

“You, Sugu!” Oh, the way you desperately said his nickname was so pathetic to hear — so sweet. He couldn’t stop the sneer from flourishing on his face. “You’re my favorite—Mmmph! Always…”

Good girl. “You wanna come so bad, baby?” His thumb and forefinger rub against your clitoris, evoking cute squeaks to fly out your drooling mouth. You nod hastily; that’s not what he wanted, so he pinches your clit. “Words, pretty girl, words.”

“Yessh, please let me cum, my love…!” Now that’s what he wanted to hear, being all cute and pitiful for him to grant you what you’re craving. And you can feel it coming, your nerves heightened with the climb of your orgasm.

But then, you sense his fingers gone from your clit, the cold air occupying their absence. Instead, he puts the vibrator that once teased your nipple back and rests your figure onto the cold wooden floor once more. Your brows screw together with quivered lips, “No, pleaseee! Don’t leave me again!” You whined.

Too late, he was adorning his jacket and heading out for the sliding door of the classroom. “I’m sorry, angel, but I gotta get to this meeting first. Don’t make too much noise while I’m gone, okay?” God, you pulled his heart the way you helplessly laid there. “Don’t give me that look, my love. I’ll be right back when it’s done.” He steps outside and closes the door behind him, swiftly locking it while checking for his surroundings.

And it was a good thing he did, too. Because right around the corner came his best friend, Gojo, the blindfolded sorcerer, retrieving the raven-headed other. “Yo, there ya are, Suguru! The meeting’s about to start; don’t slack off before Yaga comes for our heads.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” he walks alongside his companion, heading to the other side of the hall. 

“Hmm, by the way, where’s Y/n?” The white-haired man inquires while scratching his ear. “I haven’t seen them since this morning.”

Geto hums to the question, the shrug of his shoulders to seal the deal. “They felt sick all of a sudden, went to go see Shoko to check.”

The taller sorcerer tilts his head with a scoff. “Who said you were a good liar?”

“You’re one to talk.”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/benkeibear.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

What if MC was sent to an alternate dimension somehow and that dimension contained all 7 overblots who woke up there after they were defeated in main story. How would they react to the magicless prefect who managed to defeat them suddenly showing up out of nowhere?

Overblot Universe | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Imagine a trip through the mirror portal gone wrong

Ending up in this other place where it looks like an ink covered version of Night Raven

Reminding you of your dear friends’ overblots 

You hesitate to call out for help of any kind

Instead your greeted immediately by an army of ink blotted students marching towards you quickly

A single soldier steps to the front bearing a gaudy but familiar collar 

“The Queen of Hearts demands you return to his side at once!” 

Before you can say anything, another voice rings out

“Our Sultan demands the magicless one.”

This one has a smaller group but they are much more heavily armed

It leads to a brawl which you are uncomfortably at the center of

Escaping from the warring factions, you make your way to the school’s mirror room

Barely able to step on the premises you’re stopped by a small patch of sand sucking you into the ground

The only one you can think that’d use this is–

“Thought I smelled a troublesome herbivore.”

It’s Leona in all his overblotted glory

Snickering with a fanged smile he grabs you by the arm

Easily yanking you out of the sand and holding you against his chest

Still standing above the quicksand you hold on tight

You’re surprised when he almost lovingly rubs his cheeks against your own trailing down your neck with his nose

Then without warning he takes a deep bite into the crook of your neck

Holding you still as you try to shove him away

When he pulls back with blood on his smile, you can only look at him with betrayal

“What? You think I’d be gentle after you chased me away? Not this time sweet heart.”

He tosses you over his shoulder as he walks further away from the building you want to go 

Taking you to an inky territory that looks as though Savvannaclaw turned into some rocky mound in the dessert

With too much ease he tosses you into a scratchy pile of sand 

He plops down practically on top of you

“Ow! This is really uncomfy how do you sleep on this?!”

“Don’t whine. Now that you’re here it’ll be a lot softer.”

Too fast and so familiar to your Leona he falls asleep

Anytime you move a centimeter the sand whips angrily around keeping you in his vicinity

But it seems the only time it didn’t react was when a drone with a bucket of water dunked on the sand rising to swat at it

The damp sand could only bubble slowly as the drone came closer to you shooting some small metal thing on your reaching hand

“NO!--” 

The ugly snarl from the overblotted Leona dissipates as a flash of blue and black transports you someplace else

“There they are brother! You’re player 2! I told you they’d be here for the special day!”

You want to voice your confusion as you blink your blurry sight into something sharp

But something's over your mouth

And your hands and your legs

Looking around you are in what looks like a cave lined with wires and technology baring an uncanny resemblance to a friend of yours

“You were right all along brother! Let’s prepare for the final act!” 

It’s an overblotted Idia taking a heavy looking crown from the claws of some nearby machinery

Stopping to admire you, his cold clawed hands run along your face as if checking if your real

Before placing the crown on your head

The minute the device is settled how he likes it tightens on your head

Bringing a numbing pain to the sides of your skull as you desperately try to wiggle free

Nothing you do stops the inky creation that looks like Ortho manipulate your binds to stand you upright

Bringing you to an alter, it’s there you notice the swirling abyss just pass the electronic officiant

“Now say your vows, my fruit.”

“Of course my precious future husband, master of the underworld and overworld. For years–”

It’s your voice but not 

With a tinge of automation your voice chimes happily from the restraint over your mouth

At your not–real—vows Idia seems to giggle causing the abyss to widen and the suction intensify

Eventually ‘your vows’ end and Idia claims he’s going to skip his

Letting his robotic officiant carry through like a typical ceremony

Until it gets to that part

“I’d be wrong not to speak my peace when both parties so clearly have withstanding debts with me.”

Part 2

[wanders-in-wonderland]

Treatment Plan

Last night was supposed to be harmless New Year’s Eve fun, partying with friends, dancing with strangers, and maybe finding someone to ring in the new year with. I remember dancing and taking shots with a really hot guy at some club where we'd shared a new year kiss. There's nothing else in my memory and I don’t remember when I passed out but I wake up alone in a medical examination room, naked, gagged, and strapped down to a bed with my arms above my head and legs spread wide.

The door opens and four men walk in. The first one I recognize is the hot guy I'd made out with. Except now, he has the look of a doctor, dressed in a white coat, wearing a stethoscope and holding a clipboard. The other three men are wearing nurses scrubs and not a single one acknowledges me as they step into the room and close the door behind them.

The doctor glances down at his clipboard and looks at me, smirking slightly. “It says here you’ve been admitted due to your issues with obedience and self-control. I promise we deliver the best results here, so you, darling, will be in tip-top shape in no time,” his voice is tinged with mockery and I try to shake my head and explain that this is all a mistake, that I have no idea what is going on, and I’m not supposed to be here.

“Day one of this treatment regimen helps us establish a baseline of what we’re working with and involves some sensory deprivation just to enhance the effectiveness but I promise, you’ll enjoy it,” he purrs, coming to stand next to my head before sliding a piece of fabric over my eyes. I struggle uselessly against the bindings, trying to dislodge the blindfold but it’s too secure to move. I feel hands hold my head in place before someone else slides headphones over my ears and suddenly, I’m blind and deaf to the world.

There is nothing to prepare me for what comes next, and no way that I can have any ability to sense what they plan to do to me. I can feel tears pricking at my eyes, absorbing into the blindfold when suddenly, I feel fingers trail along my ribs.

I let out a muted whimper, my body instinctively lurching in response. The feeling is so overwhelming and I’m absolutely senseless and helpless. The fingers linger around my hips and dig in gently, making me jerk uselessly in my bindings. It’s almost too much for my body to handle, the unknown touches, the horrible anticipation and suspense of not knowing anything at all.

Without warning, the fingers dig harder into my ribs, tickling me harshly and mercilessly. I wail behind the gag and thrash desperately, begging for it to stop to no avail. The fingers don’t let up and my entire world has narrowed to the unbearable sensations those fingers are drawing out of my bound body. There’s nothing I can do except endure it.

My wails have died down to little mindless whimpers as the tickling continues to ravage my ribs and hips when I feel the fingers pull away finally. I gasp for air, hoping that this torture is finally going to be over. Suddenly, I feel fingers brush against my underarms and I scream so hard my throat feels raw. I’m yanking and pulling at the straps holding me down but I’m bound too tightly. Tears are flowing freely into the blindfold as my body jerks. The fingers dig devastatingly into my underarms and I’m inconsolable. The tickling feels like electricity going straight into my nerves and it makes my mind hazy.

There’s no mercy and no stopping. The fingers find every vulnerable spot on my body and there’s nothing to stop the wretched tickling that’s making me want to curl into myself and disappear. There’s no acclimation to the feeling or becoming desensitized to it all. Every single movement feels like my body is dancing on a live wire and I have no choice but to experience every devastating feeling.

Another set of fingers finds their way to my hard nipples and I can barely draw in enough air to scream as the stimulation adds to the overwhelming feelings crashing through my body. Flicks against my nipples make me squirm and moan.

Then, my world lights up behind my blindfold when I feel fingers on my clit.

The combination of tickling at every sensitive spot on my body and the focus on my clit shatters me. Every single nerve is pulled open and vulnerable to unforgiving, relentless stimulation and I know I’m dripping wet onto the bed under me. It’s all too much for my brain to process. Every force on my body pushes me closer and closer to an orgasm and it’s unbearable.

A sudden flash of pain hits my clit as someone’s fingers sharply pinch my throbbing button and I wail as my orgasm barrels through my body. None of the stimulation lets up and the fingers on my clit continue to force waves of pleasure through my body while fingers everywhere else drive my orgasm even higher. I’m delirious and barely coherent between all of the different assaults of stimulation that wrack my body.

I feel the fingers on my clit pull away and I’m gasping and shaking. The tickling at my ribs and underarms doesn’t relent and I can barely catch my breath enough to sustain my sobs. Fingers brush against my inner thighs and I can’t help but whine, hearing only my wild heartbeat thudding in my ears.

Suddenly, there’s a vibrator slammed against my clit and my mind breaks. There are too many things going on but my whole being is driven to focus on the horrible vibrator pillaging my clit with no mercy. My next orgasm shoots through me with no warning, no build up, no gentle waves of pleasure. Just pure ecstasy shooting deep through my body, so hard that I can feel it in my bones and it renders me completely broken.

I have no concept of time or place as the torture continues. My body moves on its own accord as it struggles and trembles, futilely trying to avoid every touch. It could have been ten minutes or ten hours when everything finally fades away and all of the hands touching me are gone. I lie there, limp, unmoving, unthinking, barely conscious. It takes me an immeasurable amount of time to catch my breath, my body still feeling phantom aftershocks of pleasure and torment. I vaguely register the feeling of someone pulling the headphones off of my head and I’m able to hear again.

“Oh darling,” his voice is the first thing I recognize, “I suppose I forgot to mention, this treatment regimen has ten levels. And we can’t move on from level one until you learn to control your body and keep still during your treatments. Clearly we’re not going to get there today, but perhaps you’ll do better tomorrow. Otherwise, you’re in for a very long stay here…”

[ladyrosemone]

The Other Side Of Paradise

Using Google Translate here! 🗣‼️‼️ This is an intermediate of part one, as the Batfamily's point of view just like you had yours, official part two coming soon! Also my question box is open (I think) and without further ado, enjoy the read! (Thanks for enjoying the read 😭🫶🏼)

Tw!: Profanity (use of prostitute as a derogatory insult), murder, murder scene described, negligence.

Tag List: @tsuniio, @simpingpandas, @dakotali, @softycheol.

Dick is always first.

The first child acrobat of the circus, the first son of Bruce Wayne, the first Robin, the first brother, the first everything.

And he was proud of that, from being an orphan to the pride of Gotham it was not an easy path and much less a happy one, but amidst so much pain and loss he is grateful for having a constant; his family.

Dysfunctional and somewhat shaky, where violence and beatings are the language of love, they find comfort in knowing that they have each other.

He has Alfred as his honorary grandfather, who is the wisest person he will ever meet again.

Bruce, who even with his flaws is his father, who gave him a chance and never abandoned him, making him the man he is today.

Jason, the most distant but beloved of his brothers, knows that he can always count on him and his strength at all times.

Tim, his chair boy, his best confidant, and the best detective in the world, trusts him with his life over anything he can't find.

And Damian, his little brother, his favorite boy in the whole world, the Robin to his Batman, what he wouldn't do for his sharp-tongued brother; even when he came to the mansion threatening and stabbing everything, never gave up on him and the result was completely worth it.

His sisters are also dear to him; Stephenie and Cassandra are strong and independent, but also loyal and loving. Barbara may not be a sister -she still has her father- but she has earned a place in the family and is considered sister as much as Steph and Cass.

Of course he will never leave Duke behind, the newest, the ray of sunshine among them all, he expects great things from him.

Dick is always first.

Dick is the last one to remember you.

Jason hates remembering his life before the well.

He doesn't want to forget, there are memories that still keep him sane; his mother, when Bruce adopted him, his first patrol as Robin. You.

But if it were up to him, he would never talk about them again or even acknowledge their existence. They are chains that bind him, quicksand that make him sink whenever he tries to move forward and personally he is fed up.

Because no matter how many villains he catch and how many more kill, how many people save, nothing will take away the guilt of not having saved that person. Don't save you.

Of not finding the strength in himself to look for you now, because for you, there is nothing but shame and shame for himself. The first friend he had, the first brother he had, his first great loss, his only great regret.

Jason hates remembering his life before the well.

Jason hates being the first to discover your new identity.

Tim is a genius.

Genius falls short, his brain works like a computer within a computer within another; Wires instead of neural conduits and electricity instead of energy is what happens in that brilliant brain of yours.

He was never an ordinary person, he is ambitious and resourceful, intelligent and determined to get what he wants.

That started with the mantle of Robin.

When Jason was still in the portrait, he wanted to be part of the duo; He trained and prepared, ready to help from the Batcave until the Joker thing happened. And even when it felt bad to carry the title of the bat's henchman, he felt proud that his perseverance took him to the top.

And it was the beginning of his destiny.

Robin, Red Robin, the robin's mantle is and will be a part of him that he will never let go, but he is also the one who remembers every detail of every case of every villain of every attack in Gotham, is the one they turn to when they need to confirm exact information. Nothing escapes him, ever.

Tim is a genius.

Tim passed you by and lost.

Damian is the perfect heir.

His father is the most powerful man in Gotham and Batman himself, his mother is a skilled and lethal assassin, daughter of a dynasty of the world's fiercest assassins, and he is the result of the cross between the two.

He is perfect.

That is why he will never deign to look down on the unworthy; Richard is fine, Jason is worthy because served his mother and grandfather, Tim still doubts it, women are strong allies and that new boy has potential. Alfred and his father, of course, are worthy of his obedience.

And you? You are worse than a disappointment.

A stain, a mistake, someone who should never have existed, rotting his perfect legacy, you should be thankful he didn't kill you when he had the chance.

It's not that you deserve it, you don't deserve anything from it.

You are so insignificant to him that not even in his dreams did he worry about your whereabouts, of course he knew that you were no longer there, he had to watch you in case you stole something when you left like the thieving prostitute who was probably your mother, but when you did not return, he felt triumphant for having taken care of -without killing- the family problem.

Damian is the perfect heir.

Damian feels like his throne means nothing in front of you.

Bruce is a father.

He never considered himself one, maybe he wanted it once, when his own father was alive to learn from him, but that dream died when his people did it in the alley.

Despite everything, he tried to be a father to Dick, and his efforts, although questionable, worked. Then Jason with his bright eyes and bubbly personality, taken away too soon, let go too soon.

Even now, so near and so far, it is his greatest loss as Batman, as Bruce Wayne.

Tim was...complicated; arrived when he had not overcome his grief and treated him in the most atrocious way he had ever imagined treating his children. Still, he proved to him time and time again that was more than expected.

Damian was unexpected of an unexpected union; son of Talia Al'Ghul and grandson of Ra's Al'Ghul, he awaited a bloodthirsty and indomitable child. Which started badly ended well, his youngest son is on his way to writing his destiny far from his ancestry, and in his heart knows that did the best he could.

Barbara, although not their daughter, is part of their family, Stephenie and Cassandra are their beloved daughters, and Duke is officially their new son.

Bruce is a father.

Bruce is not your father.

Do others really have a voice in this narrative? You barely remember them, you barely knew them, much less you care about them. Yes, even Alfred.

"I don't understand, there's nothing more" Tim murmurs, looking at the images on the Batcomputer, reading the documents at the same time, his eyes bloodshot and his fingers trembling from the coffee laced with an energy drink that just drank "There must be more"

"You searched enough, you should get some sleep" Barbara intervenes, in her wheelchair "I'll cover you"

"No, there's something I'm overlooking" he insists "I know, I just have to look carefully"

"Tell me it's not that thing again" Jason complains, arriving at the Batcave with his Red Hood suit on, barely removing his helmet.

Dick nods, his usual smile not drawing his face, just a grimace "We're close to finding it, just...something's missing"

The image is clear; a party room, with people dancing and laughing, as precise as a painting but recent that appeared in the newspaper. All of these people are families of dangerous underworld groups.

Lords of drugs, weapons and human trafficking, ex-convicts and people who work for villains are...enjoying the party.

It wouldn't be relevant if it weren't the photo before the tragedy.

⚠️ Description of crime scene, bodies and blood under the cut ⚠️

All of them, women and men, young and old, nothing more than a combined mass of blood and bones, guts scattered on the walls and decorations of the room.

The floor, the stairs, everything contaminated, women's bodies -which were getting smaller, then only limbs such as arms, hands and finally, fingers- arranged on the main staircase. They all point to something;

⚠️End of scene⚠️

A painting.

In the two photos, the painting of a house is what steals the attention; nothing special, nothing grand, just a painting of a gray wooden cave house, with the background of a distant city and without a signature, almost overlooked as another photo if it weren't for the canvases and the paint under his fingers when he touched it.

In both photos the painting is at the top of the stairs, in both the light was shining on them and in both it draws attention before anything else.

Why? What does it mean? What does it tell them?

"There must be something more than that, hidden among the corpses" says Damian, the most obsessed -besides Tim- in discovering the identity of the one who, for months, has left them clues after helping them anonymously, only a pseudonym in your name; The Savior.

Or that is how those who bring your messages to them have referred to you, speaking of you as a Saint, a savior among men, God himself who came down to protect them.

And they can't let that continue.

They must know if you are dangerous, if you are a potential threat or potential ally. They must discover you.

Alfred arrives with more coffee, because he knows his words won't be heard at that point; When the family becomes obsessed with something, they hardly let it go until they get their fill of it.

His eyes pursue that house; small and misaligned, painted in a very specific way, too specific.

Jason doesn't like to remember the past.

"Wasn't there a phantom surcharge on the accounts months ago?" He says in a low voice, almost lost if the echo of the cave had not returned the word to him.

"There are many like that" Tim murmurs without thinking about the matter "Hey-!"

Jason pushes him aside, typing furiously and searching through files, searching and searching remembering remembering until...A contract, simple and almost empty, with a late date and an unknown signature, the name blank but with an address and a photo; the photo of the painting.

The house.

"How did you...?" Tim was surprised, looking at that contract as if he had never looked at it before, reading carefully, sleep and fatigue fleeing his body.

Bruce looks on without speaking, but those who know him know that a war of insecurities is raging inside him; How did it happen? Who was it? When did do it? Has access to all he private accounts? Do has know their identities?

The clue has been revealed, the answer discovered, and the game is just beginning.

"I think it's time to arrange the pawns on the chess board" you say in your luxury suit, the highest in the tallest building in Gotham, looking at the flashing lights that fill the streets, looking at the outskirts of Gotham, looking at your next move, looking at the wide-screen camera that's embedded in the painting's window.