I stand on the edge of the rooftop, the city stretching out beneath me. The wind tugs at my hair, and for a moment I just let myself feel it.

People think what I do is carefree.They don’t see the nights I sit in the dark afterwards, counting my luck. Luck isn’t free, it always bills someone else later.

I used to believe the universe owed me. That if I took enough, stole enough, danced close enough to the edge, I could rewrite the story my father left unfinished. Now I know better. The universe doesn’t owe anyone.

Spider-Man… Peter. He still believes in second chances the way others believe in natural laws like gravity. I envy that. I also resent it. Every time he looks at me like I’m more than the sum of my heists, I feel the old itch to run. Because if I’m not the villain in someone else’s story, who the hell am I?

MJ is the same way. Always trying to offer a form of redemption.

Maybe that’s my real greatest theft. The moments I steal from myself. The moments where I almost stay. Where I almost trust.

Tonight the city is quiet. No sirens chasing my shadow. No web-lines cutting the sky. Just me.

Black Cat doesn’t get soft. She doesn’t get sentimental. She gets even, or she gets gone.

But Felicia…

Felicia is still deciding who she wants to be.

Peter Benjamin Parker woke up one day in his Spider costume with a nasty headache. He was lying face up in a dumpster, and at first he thought he was suffering a really bad hangover, considering how bright the city of New York was, but even after he sat there in the garbage for about an hour, the bright lights hadn't stopped.

Scrambling out of his impromptu bed, he ripped off his mask and goggles, stuffing them in his pocket before walking out of the alleyway, looking around at the impossibly tall buildings and the bright lights, trying to figure out what the hell was even going on when suddenly he felt a familiar pain in the back of his neck - his sixth sense was telling him something, and when he figured it out, he suddenly felt the need to down multiple bottles of hard whiskey - He was in another universe entirely.

The first thing he needed to do was gather information, and luckily, in this universe, information was free, at the tips of his fingers, and lightning fast. Never in his life did he ever think he'd appreciate public libraries, but this internet thing was mighty convenient for a detective like him.

According to his research, the war he fought had ended over a hundred years ago in this universe which meant all of his friends and loved ones were long dead, if they had existed at all in this universe, all of the names he used as aliases in the war, including one Benjamin Reilly, were all real people, dead or otherwise, and to make things much worse, he wasn't the only Spider anymore. In fact, he wasn't even the only Peter Parker.

Reeling from these new discoveries of his, he stumbled around the new New York, trying to figure out his next move. He couldn't possibly continue his detective business, especially since he didn't even have a legal name in this universe, and with prices being what they were, living was going to be much more difficult, which meant the only thing he could do was continue being The Spider, right?

As these thoughts rang through his mind, suddenly he was stopped by a particularly friendly neighbor asking for his name, and Peter panicked. None of his usual aliases worked here, so he'd have to just make one up on the spot.

Unfortunately, Peter had never been that good at lying.

"Uhh... B-Ben.... Benjamin. Benjamin... H-Hardy? P-Parker! Benjamin Hardy-Parker, ma'am," he'd told her. He explained that his folks had divorced, and he really didn't like talking about the fact that he had two last names, and rushed off, not realizing how badly he had just screwed everything up.

Well, no time to think about that now, he needed to find a place to eat, then get to Spidering, as much as he really didn't want to. But the city was always going to need a Spider, and it's not like he had anything else he could be doing.

I was out on a mission, bing bang boom, I got Anti-Venom, so now… I’m Agent Anti-Venom! Has anyone seen my pal, Spidey around?

I’ve been so tired lately. So caught up in my own anger. I always have been, truthfully.

I wondered why I couldn’t be happy. Why Wade Wilson couldn’t be.

But he could. All along, but he held himself back. He took fate by the horns, but never steered it.

Until now. Because now, he chooses not to fight, but to forgive. To release what was been bottled up inside, not in some theatric explosion, but calmly, and quietly. I choose.

Deadpool is no more. There is simply no need for him. He was everything I didn’t want to be. Everything I hated about myself. No longer…

Now, I forgive.

Killbrew, I forgive you. Tolliver, Francis, Weasel, Mystique, Typhoid Mary, Taskmaster, Bullseye, Itsy Bitsy, Sluggo, Sabertooth…

I forgive all of you, and everyone else who has wronged me.

And to all of those *I* have wronged,.. I truly, sincerely apologize. I cannot express how deeply I regret my wrongdoings…

But now is not the time for regret.

Now, it is time for peace.

For Zen…

With a deafening impacts that sends millions of gallons of displaced ocean water smashing over the built in walls and outposts, Fin Fang Foom steps out of the fog and rain, his gargantuan emerald scaled body towering hundreds of feet into the flashing lightning. His massive wings unfurl and completely swallow the horizon. He looks down at the shore with malice, his nostrils flaring as he exhales a thick plume of smoke into the freezing rain.

"YOU STAND UPON MY SHORES AND DARE TO CALL IT A BORDER?”

the dragon rumbles, his voice a massive seismic wave that shatters windows for miles inland.

“YOU BRING YOUR METALS, YOUR TINY SOLDIERS, AND YOUR LITTLE LIGHTNING BOLTS. YOU WILL ALL REMEMBER WHO RULED THESE SEAS BEFORE."

Before him, the line is drawn. Dozens of Chinese battle tanks form a defensive wall along the coastal highway, their turrets rotating in unison as a squadron of stealth fighters tears through the low hanging storm clouds overhead. And right in the center of the military blockade stand the slightly out of place American founded Thunderbolts.

Fin Fang Foom lowers his massive head, his jaw opening as a blinding, super-heated plasma fire begins to ignite in the back of his throat. The military sirens wail, the tank treads grind into the mud, and the battle that will decide the fate of the Chinese mainland and further so the lives of potentially billions begins.

FOOOOOOM

The heavy stealth drop ship plummeted through a wall of black, stormy clouds, its hull rattling violently as it broke atmosphere over the coast of the Chinese mainland. The hangar doors hissed open, letting in the deafening roar of the winds, rain, and the distant earth-shaking footsteps of Fin Fang Foom.

From the comms tower back at base, Valentina's voice coldly spoke into every members earpiece.

"Alright, team. The target is currently approaching the beach. Drop down, draw the line, and show this dinosaur why you wear the lightning bolt. Hit 'em hard. First impressions are everything after all.”

colin blasted away from the mansion and into new york...again, after battling a symbiote and nearly dying he couldn't sleep so he decided to spend the night patrolling, to clear his mind and do something with his free time, he flew around new york appearing like a bright orange flash above the buildings to any civilians watching.

he flew all across new york searching for any form of crime and stopping it the second he found any, all with an almost emotionless look on his face. for hours he worked not caring about the fatigue or the pain, all whilst thinking...zeke was back and so was hisako but tensions were still high at the mansion, his sister had lost a foot, his teammates had been injured and even a few teachers.

he perched on top of a building looking down at the street, pondering as smoke came off of his body, a stoic expression on his face about how he could improve and what he could do to help his team

OOC: this is open to interaction for heroes and villains, its fun writing the occasional post of colin doing solo vigilante work in new york and I hope everyone is having an amazing day because you deserve it!

The last thing Sue remembered was the fight- Doom's fist crackling with energy, someone screaming, and then... Valeria. Had Valeria been there? Sue's heart seized a moment as fragments of that night surfaced: her daughter's voice, a force field, Doom breaking through. Valeria... she's tried to save her. She'd tried to intervene. Sue struggled to recall more before the memory slipped away like smoke, and she couldn't know whether Valeria had succeeded or failed, whether she'd been hurt or-

Oh god.

Sue forced herself upright, panic flaring. Doom wouldn't harm a child, would he? Not Valeria, his own goddaughter? Doubt crawled through her stomach. This was Doom. His kindness was fickle, fleeting, and if Valeria had interfered with his plans...

She took in her surroundings properly for the first time. The bed definitely antique, comfortable for a dungeon, at least. The walls were stone, hung with tapestries depicting Latverian history in threads of green and gold. There was a small window high above her, but she couldn't find a way to reach it. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood on trembling legs. The room was deceptively spacious, furnished with an almost theatrical gothic elegance. A heavy oak door stood across from her, banded with iron. No visible locks, but that meant nothing with Doom.

She moved toward the door, each step steadier than the last, her mind racing through contingencies. If Valeria was here, she'd find her. If she wasn't... Sue needed to find a way to contact the others, see if she was back home with them. Suddenly hit with a wave of nausea, her knees buckled and her body fell against the door, struggling to stay upright.

One thing was for certain; She wasn't going anywhere like this.

Hobie stood frozen for a moment. His guitar resting over his shoulder anid his eyes starting to narrow. He grabs his mask out of his back pocket, slipping it on as the pavement beneath his boots opened up. A portal opening up where he was standing, leaving Hobie falling through a tunnel of what looked like to be some kinda galactic interdimensional void and spider webs.

Then, Hobie was sent flying and crashed into a billboard, cracking it’s screen then taking a look around the place he’d been transported to. He took in the unfamiliar streets. This ain’t London. No one he knew was here. He scoffed, shaking his head. Great, a portal opens up, snatches me and drops me somewhere I never asked to be. That sound familiar? Whatever multiversal wanker in power, what did I ever do to you? Probably nothing, it’s always someone in power who decides where I want to be.

“Yeah, this place ain’t home.”

CUT TO A SPIDER-PUNK COMIC DROPPING DOWN ONTO A PILE OF OTHER COMICS OF THE OTHER SPIDER-PEOPLE WHO GOT SENT HERE.

“Alright, alright, lets do this one last time. I’m a street walkin’ cheetah. A bloke in the jacket with a guitar and a heart full of napalm. I’m also the guy who smashed President Osborn’s head so hard with that said guitar that I sent it flying into the East River. I hate fascists, so when some muppet wants to stroll up in my hood, shootin’ up the whole place, I’ll always be here to remind ‘em that I’m Spider-Man.

or Spider-Punk, dependin’ on who’s askin’. Y’know what I’m sayin’?”

Patrols were a part of Spider-Man’s daily life. Always something he loved doing, and it meant helping others too.

Spider-Man stood on the edge of the building; his gaze wandered down towards the people walking past below. He leaped and shot a web from his wrist, the web swiftly connecting with a building, as he began to swing through the city.

With each swing, his expression hardened. One simple mistake..

And he would.

Well, he doesn’t like thinking about that.

Bad thoughts only drag a person down, anyway.

Then, he heard something in the distance.

A loud, but distant scream.

The change of course was sudden, as Spidey swung towards the sound of it. His movements quickened with each passing second until he lunged forward, landing on the ground. His eyes darted, searching around until he saw you.

Deep beneath the ocean floor, a cosmic entity that had slept for millennia suddenly awakens. The crust of the Earth groans, massive tectonic plates grinding together eventually erupting and breaking as a pair of massive, reptilian like eyes snap open.

For centuries, the fragile little mortals of the surface world built their cities, fought their petty wars, and forgot the true masters of the stars. They forgot the Kakaranatharian bloodline. They forgot the one that once choked the skies.

With a deafening roar that registers as a magnitude 7.0 earthquake on mainland seismographs, the massive scaled titan breaks through the ocean floor. The sea itself screams as his towering, winged self rises out of the boiling depths. He inhales the modern air, his nostrils flaring as he detects the unnatural scent of human pollution in the wind.

He raises his massive head towards the sky.

(Sometime this Saturday, Fin Fang Foom will fight the current Thunderbolts (though I may hold onto him for later events) and this little event will only be for Thunderbolts member. We are still taking any new members and will be for the foreseeable future until/If we get too many members. So if you want you can join the event if you join the Thunderbolts. Anyone who applies can join regardless of if they were a Thunderbolts members in any media, including OCs.)