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steddiealltheway · 8 months

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(A special post for my dear friend Cass @henderdads who is celebrating 10k followers 🫶💛 can’t wait to celebrate more milestones with you 🥳)

Eddie watches the follower count on the Corroded Coffin TikTok rise every time he refreshes their page as the rest of the band looks over his shoulder.

“I can’t believe your bat song is going to bring us to ten thousand followers. Considering it’s about-”

“Shut up,” Eddie cuts him off, refreshing the page again.

“Seriously though,” Grant says, pointing at the follower count, “We’re going to hit ten thousand pretty soon.”

“Which is a big milestone for us,” Jeff adds before circling in front of where everyone in staring at Eddie phone. “Shouldn’t we celebrate or something?”

All the boys pause for a moment, and Eddie can feel them all staring at him, waiting for some type of creative revelation as if he can just come up with something on the spot like... “I have an idea.”

Gareth and Grant high five as Eddie jumps up and points at Jeff. “Go get some lame confetti party poppers and a cheesy celebration cake.” He turns to Gareth and Grant and points at them. “You guys need to find out how to put our follower count on a laptop or something while I set up my room so we can do a livestream on Tiktok in there.”

“We’ve never done a livestream.”

“Exactly!” Eddie says clapping his hands excitedly, “That’s what will grab people’s attention and boost our follower count. We’ll tell them that follower ten thousand will get a special private video from us or something. I don’t know. Whatever they want!”

“What if they ask us to strip?” Grant asks.

Jeff sighs and puts a hand on his shoulder. “No one is going to ask you to strip, dude.”

“You never know!”

Eddie just laughs as he rushes off to his room.

“Wait!” Jeff yells after him.

Eddie pauses and turns around.

“What money am I using to by this stuff?”

Eddie sighs and digs his wallet out of his pocket, pulling out two twenties and handing them over. “If this doesn’t cover it, you’ve done something wrong.”

Jeff smiles widely before running out the door yelling, “I’m gonna spend all of it!”

Eddie doesn’t even care about his money going down the drain, he’s too excited about reaching ten thousand and being able to call Wayne about it. For now, it’s time to seriously do some work to his room in order to make it somewhat presentable…

-:-:-:-:-:-

Eddie adjusts the camera stand and the ring light he bought for their videos that he gets constantly made fun of for buying. But the guys can’t deny how much better their videos look, so he doesn’t want to hear it.

“Jeff, give me your phone.”

Jeff hands his phone over but whines, “Why my phone?”

“Because you have the best camera,” Eddie explains, setting it up and going to their tiktok page. The numbers are quickly climbing through the nine thousands, and at this rate, they’ll definitely hit 10k during the livestream.

Once everything is prepared, Eddie asks, “Ready?”

Everyone nods and Eddie starts the livestream. He waves at the camera and watches the view count grow quickly. “Oh wow. Hi everyone. We haven’t done this before, so sorry for anything weird that may happen or when Grant inevitably says something dumb.”

Eddie gets a smack on the back of the head as Grant says, “Hey!” Jeff and Gareth just look at each other knowingly and laugh.

Eddie half winces and smiles as he rubs the back of his head and reads the comments asking about the numbers on the computer. “Oh shit. Yeah! Oh wait, I don’t think I should’ve sworn. Oops. Uh, anyways!” He takes a deep breath and gestures to the computer screen. “So, this the whole reason for our livestream. We’re about to hit ten thousand followers-”

“Thanks to you guys!” Gareth interjects.

“Yes, thank you guys. Really. From the bottom of my heart. Thank you,” Eddie says sincerely, laying his hands over his heart. “And we thought that we’d do something special for our ten thousandth follower. Maybe send them a video of us doing a cover of their favorite song or something. We don’t know! Whoever it is, you get to choose.”

“But you can’t make us strip!” Grant yells.

Eddie runs a hand over his face before gesturing dramatically toward Grant. “And this is what I meant when I said Grant would inevitably say something dumb.”

Gareth and Jeff just laugh as Grant turns red. Eddie turns around and pats him on the shoulder. “You know we love you.”

“Yeah, because you would suck without me.”

Eddie turns around and looks at the camera. “That’s absolutely true.” He looks at the comments and notices people asking them questions about when they’re releasing another song and if they’re planning on touring anywhere soon.

Jeff leans over squinting and says, “Oh! Our next song is called Hellfire Rains!”

Gareth looks at him slowly and asks, “Dude, are we allowed to say that?”

Eddie puts his head in his hands. This is absolutely a disaster, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. Eddie’s head pops back up. “We could do something even worse and give them a sample of it.”

He sees the comment section flood a bit with affirmations of YES PLEASE. I BEG OF YOU.

Eddie turns to the guys and shrugs. “Are you guys good if I play a weird acoustic version of it?”

All the guys shrug and nod until Jeff stops to say. “Wait, what if we hit ten thousand during that?”

“Then, you guys stop me and we look at the follower,” Eddie replies.

Jeff nods and says, “Okay, but what if I told you we’re only nine followers away from ten thousand?”

“What?!” The rest of the boys yell and turn to the computer, noticing the numbers going up.

Eddie scrambles to grab his phone and go to their page, refreshing their notifications to grab the name of the ten thousandth person. He quickly looks at the camera and says, “Okay guys, I’ll give you that cover after we hit this milestone and freak out.” He refreshes the page and grabs Gareth’s shoulder. “Wait, do you have the party poppers?”

“Shit!” He yells running to the plastic Walmart bag and digging through it, handing them to everyone.

“It’s about to happen guys!” Jeff yells.

Eddie’s heart thuds in his chest as he refreshes the page over and over.

“Holy shit!” Grant yells first as Gareth and Jeff yell to celebrate. Eddie glances at the screen showing 10,000 and laughs as everyone pulls their confetti party poppers. He turns back and refreshes the page.

He freezes.

“Eddie, man, who is the lucky person?” Jeff asks excitedly.

Eddie looks at them with wide eyes.

“What?” Gareth asks.

Eddie looks back at the name and presses on the profile, noticing their mutual followers confirming that it’s a legit account. “Oh my god.”

The guys all rush around his phone and stare at the page.

Gareth shrieks with laughter. “Holy shit! Steve Harrington? The same infamous Steve who your bat song is about?”

“The same infamous Steve who you had a horrible crush on in high school but could never get the courage to talk to him?” Jeff adds with a laugh.

“I talked to him once,” Eddie grumbles out running his hands over his face. This cannot be happening.

Gareth laughs loudly and says, “Let me recall it.” He turns to Jeff and acts like he gets flustered as he says, “Uh. Steve. Steve Harrington. You’re. Hi. Yeah. You. Uh. So Dustin and you. That’s cool. I. Well. Good seeing you!” Gareth then turns to run away quickly.

Jeff laughs loudly as Grant says, “Uh, guys?”

Eddie shakes his head as Gareth and Jeff ignore Grant to laugh about it until Grant yells, “Guys!”

They all look at him and notice him staring off. Eddie realizes that he’s staring at Jeff’s phone…which is still streaming.

They all seem to realize it at once and freak out. “Turn it off! Turn it off! End it!” Eddie yells as Grant drops the phone and Jeff scrambles to end the livestream.

They all pause and slowly look at Eddie who breathes out, “What are the chances that Steve wasn’t on that livestream and that everyone will forget about this?”

The rest of the boys slowly turn to look at each other with grim looks on their face.

“Oh no,” Eddie says burying his face in his hands. This is not going to be good.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Sure enough, the next day, there’s a viral TikTok going around of the movement that someone had screen recorded, and Eddie’s phone is spammed with texts from Dustin, annoyed at Eddie for never telling him about his pathetic crush on his babysitter.

Eddie ignores it and his friends attempt to drown out his sorrow with cake and platitudes of, “Hey, we’re actually gaining a lot of followers from this.”

Eddie just groans and buries his face in his bed. This cannot be happening.

“We did promise that we’d give our ten thousandth follower something special,” Jeff says. “So we still need to follow through with that.”

Eddie sighs, “I’m not going to message him.”

“Then I’m going to message him from our account and pretend to be you,” Jeff says.

As Gareth and Jeff encourage him, Eddie slowly sits up and says, “No. No. I’ll do it.” He begrudgingly reaches over and grabs his phone.

“And while you’re at it, people are complaining about you not doing that short cover so…” Gareth trails off as Eddie shoots him a glare.

“Okay, well we’re going to go pick up some food and give you some space so you don’t kill us,” Jeff says while grabbing Grant and Gareth and dragging them away.

“Thank you!” Eddie yells after them.

“But you’re not getting food unless you’ve sent him a message!” Jeff yells before closing the front door.

Eddie sighs and takes a deep breath before he glances at this phone, ignoring all the text notifications from Dustin, but he becomes curious about the text from a number he doesn’t have saved. He clicks on it.

As your 10,000th follower, do I still get to request something?

This is Steve Harrington by the way

Eddie nearly throws his phone but swipes to Dustin’s texts instead typing out, YOU GAVE STEVE MY NUMBER????

He scrolls through the dozens of texts, noticing a sequence of important texts he missed.

can i give steve your number? he’s asking me for it

eddie i swear he’s not mad or anything

okay i can’t promise that but it didn’t sound like he was mad

eddieeeee

eddie stop ignoring me

if you don’t respond im going to send your number

okay

im sending it

if anything happens i expect to be the first to know!!! don’t make me find out from a tiktok ever again

Eddie takes a deep breath and reasons that at least now he knows the number is legitimate. He opens the texts from Steve and stares at them. There’s no way he can text him.

And for some reason, he immediately decides to call him with is arguably a thousand times worse, but before he can hang up, Steve already answers with a, “Hello?”

Eddie swallows and tries to remember how to speak. “Hi,” he croaks out before clearing his throat and trying again, “Shit. Hi.”

“Hi,” Steve says, sounding amused.

Eddie sighs and lays back on his bed. “So, what are the chances that you weren’t on the live stream and you didn’t see that video?”

“Zero.”

Eddie groans. “I’m so sorry. I haven’t checked TikTok yet, but have people found you and flooded your notifications?”

“Uh…” Steve trails off, sounding hesitant to answer.

“I’ll take that as a yes. God, I’m so stupid. I just completely forgot the livestream was going or I never would’ve dragged you into this mess.”

Steve pauses and asks, “And what if I told you that I’m glad you forgot it was still on?”

Eddie sits up. “What?”

“What if…” Steve pauses and Eddie hears rustling on his end as if he’s anxiously twisting around. “What if I told you that I know what I want as your ten thousandth follower.”

“To punch me?”

Steve laughs, and Eddie tries as hard as he can not to latch onto the noise. “To ask you on a date.”

Eddie freezes in shock. Yeah, this isn’t happening.

“Eddie? Are you still there?”

“Yup, still here,” Eddie manages to breathe out. He pauses before asking, “You’re serious?”

“Yeah,” Steve replies, “I kind of had a big crush on you in high school, too. And I may have redownloaded TikTok when I heard about your live stream.”

“No way,” Eddie calls him out.

“Yes way. You should ask my best friend Robin. She saw the live stream and timed the follow perfectly for me. Plus, she’s suffered through my crush on you and has always been mad at me for never doing anything about it.”

Eddie can’t believe it. “Steve, can you FaceTime me right now?”

“Uh, sure. Yeah.”

Eddie clicks on the FaceTime button and waits until Steve’s face appears on the screen, further confirming it’s him and further freaking him out. Gosh, he hasn’t seen him in a while and he’s almost forgotten how gorgeous he is.

“Hey,” Steve says with a smile.

Eddie wants to melt into a pile of goo. “Hi.” He pauses for a second, getting a bit lost in seeing Steve’s smiling face on his phone. Then he remembers, “Oh! Okay, tell me again. But look me in the eye so I know you’re not lying.”

Steve chuckles and asks, “Eddie Munson, my secret high school crush, will you go on a date with me and fulfill the promise you made to all your followers?”

Eddie smiles and says, “Yes.”

-:-:-:-:-:-

A few days later, Eddie posts an update on the Corroded Coffin TikTok with a video of him singing a sneak peak of their new song then glancing off camera to ask, “Does my ten thousandth follower like it?”

Off camera, there’s a voice that sounds exasperated as they say, “How many times are you going to call me that instead of your boyfriend?”

Eddie puts his guitar down and rushes off camera quickly with a smile, but then the voice asks, “Did you end the video?”

Eddie pauses before saying, “No.”

“This is going to be a lasting issue isn’t it?”

“Maybe,” Eddie confesses.

Then, the mystery man appears in the shot, revealing Steve’s smiling face before he ends the video.

Once again, the video ends up going viral, and soon enough, Eddie is celebrating 50k with all the band members along with Steve (and Dustin who is very mad to find out about their relationship via the second TikTok). But he wouldn’t have it any other way.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie ficlet #corroded coffin #jeff stranger things #gareth emerson #gareth stranger things #unnamed freak stranger things #aka Grant

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jihyoruri · 2 months

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❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 ALL MINE ALL ME huh yunjin x reader

❀ ͘ ⴰ “I hate your phone, throw it away” - kali uchis

yn being a possessive girlfriend for 10 minutes 1.5M views

prev. m.list .next ➩ CLIP #1 PLAYING… 📼

yn leaned against the fansign table, adjusting the bunny ears on her head with a straight face as she side glances chaewon who wraps her arms around yunjin who laughs and wraps her arms back around the girl.

yn scrunched up her face and looked at kazuha who let out a small laugh and picked up a plush baseball bat from the prop table and gave it to the girl.

yn politely took it from the girls hand and smiled innocently at her before posing with the bat for her fansite before walking over to chaewon and yunjin.

when yn got over to the laughing girls she immediately hit both of them with the plushie “playfully” causing them to yell as people in the crowd laugh at yn’s “playful antics.”

“why are you guys only giving each other attention?” she yells causing everyone to laugh as if the girl wasn’t being dead serious, “what about us?”

➩ CLIP #2 PLAYING… 📼

kazuha wrapped her arms around yunjin as the girls waited for their turn to practice on the stage for the award show that was happening later on in the day.

yunjin brought her hand held fan to her face and talked to the camera about how excited she is as she leaned into kazuha.

one of the other camera turned to yn who had chaewon talking her ear off but it seemed like the girl wasn’t even paying attention to the leaders words and was more focused on her two other members.

she watched as both kazuha and yunjin laughed at something yunjin said leaning against each other even more which caused her face to go sour before turning to chaewon quietly mocking their laughs which caused the leader to cover her face and laugh.

“share the joke with the class please!” yn shouted towards kazuha and yunjin, “I wanna laugh too, right chaewon unnie we wanna laugh.” she added causing the leader to laugh harder.

➩ CLIP #3 PLAYING… 📼

yn leaned against yunjin’s shoulder as kazuha and yunjin had a conversation with the live, she focused more on yunjin’s hands in hers, playing with the girls rings on her fingers.

“they say we look like a kdrama love triangle couple.” kazuha said pointing at a comment, “people have been saying that a lot.”

yunjin laugh and shook her head while yn looked towards kazuha, “are you sure they’re not just talking about me and yunjin? do you have reading problems? comprehension deficit perhaps?

yunjin’s mouth dropped while kazuha covered her mouth and laughed before reaching over yunjin to hit yn’s shoulder.

➩ CLIP #4 PLAYING… 📼

yn watched as the oldest of txt talked to yunjin who looked very interested in what the older was saying, she scrunched up her face before relaxing it immediately realizing was on camera with people that weren’t just her members.

she turned towards the camera and whispered to it, “txt sunbaenim, how cool right?” she says forcing an obvious smile, “right?”

“yn is actually a really big fan,” yunjin says gesturing towards yn who turns dramatically and looks behind herself to see if yunjin is talking about another yn

“she even has an album.” yunjin says bringing an arm towards yn and wrapping her arm around the girls waist bringing her closer to yeonjun.

he laughs thinking yn was just nervous but in reality that wasn’t the case at all, “am I your bias?”

“no.”

➩ CLIP #5 PLAYING… 📼

th camera followed yn as she went towards table where yunjin sat eating her food, she sat on the girls lap to show her something funny on her phone.

yunjin put her chin yn’s shoulder and laughed at the video before using her chopsticks to pick up a rice cake but before she could put it in her mouth, yn opened her mouth and let out a ahhhhh sound, causing yunjin to giggle and put the food in yn’s mouth.

“I want come!” the sound of chaewon’s voice filled the room as she walked towards yn and yunjin with her mouth open.

“ugh, why are you here?”

chaewon’s mouth dropped in offence while yunjin laughed at yn’s “joke”.

#huh yunjin #lesserafim yunjin #yunjin #huh yunjin x reader #yunjin x reader #lesserafim x reader #lesserafim imagines #girl group imagines

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incorrectbatfam · 1 year

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favorite pair of bat siblings and their favorite thing to do together

Not a pair but I'm always a fan of the Tim+Steph+Cass+Duke quartet

Alfred sends them grocery shopping. Steph and Cass race shopping carts, Duke gets a $500 parmesan wheel the size of a bike tire, and Tim negotiates his way into buying a lottery ticket underaged. They're no longer allowed to go unsupervised

They once pretended they were making each other's death row meals. Steph made a rotisserie chicken, Cass baked a Happy Death Day cake, Duke blended a smoothie bowl 'cause the girls were taking up all the stove space, and Tim opened a can of Arkham-brand slop and called it a day

The first time they meet Duke's girlfriend, Izzy, the girls hit it off instantly and within 15 minutes get all of his embarrassing We Are Robin stories. Tim takes notes. Very very detailed notes

Steph's New Year's resolution is to finish a TV show before anyone can spoil it. Tim, Cass, and Duke's resolution is to watch everything before her. Duke puts everything on 2x speed, Cass screenshots major moments, and Tim hacks Netflix to get new episodes early

Steph used to work retail and they won't let her live down the time she, as a customer, used her customer service voice on a cashier

Tim's phone doesn't have a QR reader. If he needs to access one in public, the other three will do a thing where one scans it while the rest two pretend to and they make him guess

Cass is really passionate about making tiny ballet slippers for rats so they get an equal chance to learn it and ropes the other three into her sewing circle. Damian sometimes helps too

They get an underwater speaker for the sole purpose of playing the Jaws theme while Bruce is in the pool

Alfred creates a swear jar for each kid. Everyone expects Jason to fill it first, but it's actually Duke after he stubs his toe. Second is Steph, then Cass in sign language, and finally Tim when his coffee ran out

Alfred collects the money and gives it to Selina for safekeeping, who wires it back to Tim who adds a new living room to the house. Duke blueprints, Steph and Cass pick the furniture, and they slowly build it whenever they get a break. It's not hidden or anything, but somehow no one noticed an entire room that wasn't there before

They have a shared Spotify account. Some of their playlists: POV it's 1998 and you're terrified of growing up, Songs for when you wanna bite styrofoam, How to use a stapler, and Holy Fucking Bingle

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vinelark · 10 months

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do you have any good reverse robins fic to rec?

oh hell yeah!

Reverse Robins: Joker Junior series by miyaji_08 i rec’d the second fic in this series over here for the timkon of it all, but the series—two parts, both complete—is also one of my absolute favorite reverse robins stories. it goes the joker junior!tim route, so heads up for A Lot of tim-centric trauma, but gives tim (and everyone else) so much healing, too. it also gets creative with the robin of it all, as in, the call sign for batman’s partner is different from the jump because dick wasn’t around to originate “robin” for it, which i always think is a fun extra detail. the batfam characters are great and the young justice crew is also great, so read for top-tier hurt and comfort and great characters and satisfying plot and tim and damian competing to see who is the most Tired big brother of the bunch.

blood of the covenant by envysparkler robins are angsty in any order, but man does this hit the angst sweet spot, which in turn makes the soft parts feel even softer. i genuinely can’t decide what my favorite dynamic is in this AU, between damian & tim (damian wracked with guilt, tim hurting and still wanting an older brother even if he’d never admit it) and tim & jason (no spoilers but chapter 4 especially lights my brain up like a supernova) and tim & dick (i think about the part where dick grayson [tiny, cheerful] uses tim [undead, annoyed] as a jungle gym like once a week).

Wing Beats in Reverse by firefright a longfic where jason gets kidnapped by the mysterious red hood, who turns out to be jason’s not-so-dead predecessor. the jason pov here is great, and i was so compelled by how this AU explored his place in the bat family, and how it managed the emotional fallout from the kidnapping. tim is also so interesting in this—it does something i love in a reverse robins concept, which is make tim’s motivations (and lazarus pit effects) less about anger/hurt/revenge and more about ice cold logic, about being the villain so the bats don’t have to/whether they want him to or not. plus some league of assassins trauma as a cherry on top. also, kon gets to show up for a bit. (as a fair warning—and spoilers ahead—the fic has a somewhat hopeful ending for tim, but doesn’t reach full reconciliation in the scope of the plot.)

i woke up so worried that the angels let go by circees a short but potent batkids age reversal au that’s also a grisha au, starring duke as the coveted sun summoner that damian is trying to deliver to safety without mentally adopting a new brother (damian fails on the second part). even with my limited memory of grisha lore i could tell a lot of thought was put into this au, and i have a feeling it would be even better if you are able to catch all the details. i also love that even in a fantasy world where some of the bat family have magical abilities, duke is still extra special—a great analogy to being a metahuman among the bats.

The 90s Are Back! by RedWritingHood saving the two silly ones for last to lighten the mood! in this one, red hood!tim gets de-aged to sixteen and meets all his new siblings. it’s like .01% angst and 99.99% shenanigans, and pretty much all the dialogue is super quotable but Dick holds out his hands like he's calming a bunch of wild animals. "Okay, I know everyone's real upsetti spaghetti right now, but I think we all just need to calm down." might take the cake.

Clowns Don’t Kill People by mademoisellePlume very short, very silly reverse robins brother shenanigans, in which tiny dick grayson isn’t scared of recovering joker junior!tim because dick, having been raised in the circus, doesn’t associate clowns with evil yet. the fic is fun (and a great palate cleanser if you need a break from the angst above), and the author’s note at the end made me fully laugh out loud.

#reverse robins #fic rec #batfam #when tim as the undead robin is done well it's so 🤌🤌🤌#once again i reserve the right to add more later because i def forgot some

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strafepanzer · 1 year

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fangs | g.jaegerjaquez

chapter one: shit | chapter two (tba) | chapter three (tba)

▸ ▸ ▸ warnings: dark content, 18+! a/b/o stuff (pheromones, fangs, alpha-omega, animalistic tendencies), blood (a LOT), biting, drugs, gangs, fighting, (more to be added as chapters progress)

▸ ▸ ▸ wordcount: 3k+

▸ ▸ ▸ a/n: this has been in the works for a while but i finally have a bit of energy to put into it, so that's fun! also ive taken parts of omegaverse lore and made it my own, so if things get confusing, feel free to ask questions! thanks for reading!! ♡

“Shit,” he hisses, tongue running over the split in his lower lip. His glare intensifies as he shoots it over his shoulder, landing on the little turd shaking in his boots, wooden baseball bat held tight in two white-knuckled fists.

“I didn’t even do that! Y-you bit your lip with those freakish fricken fangs!” The kid argues, blue eyes wide with terror, that distinct childish whine caught in his throat.

“Right, so you swinging that bat at me had no impact on the state of my face at all?” He turns his body towards the boy, cracks his neck as he rolls his shoulders. “Sounds like a crock a’ shit, squirt.”

“Uncle will be mad if you hit me!” He reasons, knees knocking together.

“Oh, but you can hit me?” Grimmjow raises his brows, wiping the blood with a knuckle as he stalks towards the kid.

“You’re the gang’s Mad Dog! You’re supposed to be too good for me to hit!” He frowns, stepping back as the predator steps forward.

Grimmjow grins then, his hulking canines pressing uncomfortably into his lower lip, the one on the left shining with blood. “Maybe I wanted a reason to discipline the young master.”

“Jaegerjaquez,” Tousen appears out of nowhere, like usual. “Boss has a job for you.” Is all he says before turning to the kid. “You know how your mother feels about you using that bat for violence, young master.”

The kid’s pouting, obviously happy to have been spared, but upset that he’s being scolded and losing his babysitter-slash-impromptu-martial-arts-instructor all in one fell swoop.

“Where’s he want me?” Grimmjow straightens, rubs the sweat from his hands down the thighs of his faded blue jeans, re-pops the collar of his barely buttoned Hawaiian shirt. Tousen regards him coldly through the lenses of ridiculously priced glasses, as usual, like Grimmjow is worse than the dirt beneath his stupid black leather loafers.

“The usual place.” Tousen turns his nose up at Grimmjow, and gestures back to the kid. “You need to stop sneaking out of the house when Starrk falls asleep; let’s go.” He orders, heading towards the winding forest path that leads back to the main house.

“We were training.” The kid argues back, pouting. “Everyone always talks about how strong the Mad Dog is, and I’m gonna be stronger.”

“Strength isn’t necessarily how hard you hit, or how many bones you break, Kaiden. Remember that.” Tousen sends Grimmjow one last look before the pair disappear behind the yellowing Japanese Maples, the young master waving frantically and promising to return.

This makes Grimmjow grin, smirk elongating as he heads back into his shack, imagining how Aizen’s prissy bitch of a left hand man has to listen to the kid praise him. What makes the young master’s idolisation of him that much sweeter is the fact that the little brat hasn’t presented yet; Tousen can’t blame the kid on being affected by Grimmjow’s Ridiculously Potent Dominant Alpha Pheromones, has to accept that he just likes the way he is. Thinks he’s fucking cool.

Betas, as a rule, tend to harbour a little bit of hatred towards alphas or omegas, especially in their line of work, but Tousen takes the goddamn cake.

With a spring in his step, Grimmjow packs a duffel. His little house— if you can call it that— is a bit of a mess, so finding what he needs is a pain in the ass, but he manages. Ten year old Motorola Razr (in ice blue), wallet, and switchblade are all on his bed, still there from being dumped out early this morning when he got home from a job. His first aid kit, pheromone patches, and inhibitors are all in the stall he calls a bathroom, and— he checks the package— he’s running low on patches. The last thing on his mental list— his knuckle dusters— are in the kitchen sink, still caked in dried blood, but he throws them in the bag anyway.

He leaves his leather jacket and just opts for his keys; the summer’s been long and hot, and he loves the way the air feels on his skin as he speeds the streets of Karakura.

Ichimaru’s Ikeman Fantasy is a front that even the blind can see, yet it’s been untouched by the law for years. Grimmjow parks his bike in its usual spot, holds the duffle by the handle and tosses it over his shoulder, before strolling past Yammy and the other bouncers, and in through the front door.

Smells like easy omega in here.

“Afternoon, Jaegerjaquez!” Nel hollers, tits bouncing as she waves from her spot behind the bar. They never used to get along, but the years of living and working in close proximity forced them into a friendship of sorts. Now they dye each other’s hair.

“Nel,” he nods, duffle landing on the bar with a thud. “Aizen here?”

“‘Course he is,” she rolls her eyes good-naturedly. “He’s always here.”

“Like you.” He grins. “You’re part of the furniture, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah,” she sighs, nodding back towards the kitchen. “Someone’s gotta keep Nnoitra in place. I do miss you being here, though.” Her nose scrunches up. “All the new boys are boring.” There’s a bit of bite behind her bark, and usually that’s what he looks for in a woman, but she’s never affected him. He can’t get hard for other alphas; all part and parcel of being a dominant himself. Omegas or nothing.

“Maybe if I was better at lip service.” He shrugs, tossing his feline stare over his shoulder to sus out the place.

“Or if you were worse at brawling,” she leans on the bar, those too big breasts pushing up and together in a way that makes them look like they might pop out of her shirt. “They’ve started calling you The Grim around here, you know? You come and go, then someone shows up dead.”

“That’s dramatic; I don’t kill people.” Always.

“Keep your secrets, Jaegerjaquez, I don’t want them.” Nel shakes her head, perks up a bit when someone else comes in.

It’s too early to open, and Grimmjow has no idea who this girl is. She’s cute, nervous-looking. Undoubtedly omega with her candy-apple scent.

“You’re getting girls in here now?” He asks when the candy apple omega is escorted through the lounge and into the back rooms.

“Yeah, Gin’s wanting to expand with the beauties.” She whispers, leaning close. “But you know Aizen: don't fix it if it ain’t broke.”

“Fox face wants to bring girls in here?” Grimmjow balks, a little too loud. “To work?” He questions, voice dropping.

“Yeah, for the back room stuff.” Nel looks undoubtedly uncomfortable. The main draw for the club is that it’s catered to women; less violent outbursts, less brawling, less police attention.

“Huh, never would’a picked it.” Grimmjow sighs, brows raising. “Matsumoto’s surely against it.”

“Yeah, so’s Ai—“

“You’re here,” Aizen’s voice isn’t loud, but it's commanding. There’s a quiet cruelty there that keeps people on their toes, a suppressed dominance that he’s master at concealing. “Come, Grimmjow, I have a task for you.” He’s across the lounge, standing in front of his office, the door right next to the one the candy apple omega disappeared behind.

“Sure thing,” he nods, suddenly professional. He gives Nel one last look before grabbing his duffel and slinking off towards his boss— The Boss.

Aizen’s office is the epitome of old European money; velvet chaise, dark filigree wallpaper, gold accents, cherry stained hardwood. Grimmjow feels like a stray dog attempting domestication each time he stalks into the room, can’t bear to sit lest he destroy or dirty something. The Boss doesn’t even offer him a seat anymore, just places a lowball of whiskey in his hand and starts on the task at hand.

“There’s a small motorcycle gang that’s started to sell on our turf,” he says, opening a beige folder and tossing its contents on his desk. “Need you to rough ‘em up a bit before they get too big for their boots.”

“Kids?” Grimmjow scowls, picking up the pile of photos and tossing them back to the desk as he looks at them. They’re in their late teens to early twenties, with their black leather jackets and little white baggies. “You’re sending me to deal with kids?”

Aizen sighs and sits down in his polished leather chair, taking a sip of his own whiskey. “You’re right.” He nods, leaning over the table and picking up one of the photos Grimmjow’s tossed down. “Normally, I’d send Yammy, or even Tousen— if I wanted to deal with it diplomatically— but this kid,” he holds up the picture of a blonde, his head tossed back in laughter, canine-like fangs protruding out of his mouth. “Is a dominant like you.”

He takes the photo from Aizen and looks it over, then goes through the ones he tossed and picks up a clearer one of his face. “He’s not even wearing patches,” Grimmjow shakes his head, glaring at the glossy photos. “Just swinging his dick around like he owns the place.”

“Exactly,” Aizen stands and gathers the photos, holds his hand out for the ones Grimmjow’s still scrutinising. “I’ll send the lot of them to your phone.”

“Boss, I can’t see shit on my phone,”

“I told you to buy a new one.”

“Why fix something if it ain’t broke? Besides, I got the little fucker’s face memorised, don’t sweat it.”

“They hang around by the train station at the end of the street most nights. Rough them up a bit, feel free to knock some teeth out.” Aizen smiles then, golden eyes shining as he shows his own fangs.

To the naked eye, he looks like a beta or omega with his average-sized canines, but Grimmjow knows better. Knows he’s had them filed down; that he does so on the regular.

Dangerous fucker he is.

After sticking around for a couple more drinks with Nel, he pockets a knuckleduster and leaves her with the rest of his shit. "I'll come get it when I'm done with the job." He drawls, tapping his scent blockers to test their saying power— excellent, considering he replaced them after Aizen dismissed him.

"Don't kill too many, Grim." She calls a little too loud, smiles a little too broadly. It draws attention from the other patrons, the few older women sitting at and around the bar suddenly interested in him.

"Don't lose my shit." He glares back, fang grinding on the still fresh wound from this morning when he tenses his jaw.

Undeterred, she waves him off with a smile, before undoubtedly weaving tales about his murderous escapades to the nosey hags asking too many questions. He doesn’t stick around long enough to confirm or deny his own suspicions.

The damp heat of early summer clings to Grimmjow like a second skin; seeing others unaffected— still dressing in light layers and boots, some with scarves and gloves— makes him feel a little claustrophobic, even outside in the streets. He knows it’s him who’s wrong, knows his medication has side effects and his second gender has drawbacks as well as perks, but still it’s enough to plaster that scowl to his face. At least it makes people avoid him, gives him a little bubble when it’s crowded, even in rush hour.

Hands shoved deep in his pockets, that glare is set straight ahead. He’s on a mission, and it’s something he’s not too happy about. Sure, he’s used to cleaning up Aizen’s messes, used to brawling, bleeding, biting, and bitching; but dealing with pups never ends well. These kids probably think they’re kings, think that their blonde ringleader is gonna make them rich or famous, or both.

Probably both.

Flashing fangs like that around here, though… that’s gonna get you killed.

Grimmjow’s nothing if not morally grey, however, so seeing the little posse down an alley on the way to his destination brings a rush of excitement. The sooner he can get this over with, the better.

“Oi,” he calls, entering the alley. “Heard you’re selling.”

“Who’s askin’?” One steps away from the wall— not the blonde— and tilts his chin up at Grimmjow. It takes all the willpower in the world not to match that snarl with one of his own, but he just shrugs and tries to act innocent, keeps his shoulders hunched so he seems smaller than his six-four frame.

“Just some guy,” he drawls, keeping his fangs concealed. “Why, you discriminate?”

The kid snarls at him again, infuriated, “Discrimin—”

“Cool it, Tetsu,” the blonde finally steps forward, and his pheromones are no joke. It’s been a hot minute since Grimmjow’s come across a dominant who doesn’t conceal what he is, and he has to physically stop the warning growl that wants to vibrate up his throat. “This old man just needs a hit, don’tcha grandpa?” He grins, condescending lilt to his brow.

“Nah, you got me all wrong, kiddo,” Grimmjow stands tall— taller than the blonde by at least five inches— and cracks his knuckles, apathetic grin turned evil. “I just need to relay a message to you little fuckers about who’s turf you’re selling on.”

The blonde postures, baring his fangs as his pupils blow wide, “Bring it on, old man!” He yells, pheromones turning the alley sour and crippling his friends.

Grimmjow says nothing, just mirrors the young alpha, and roars.

His pals throw up, one passes out, and the blonde’s pupils revert before his fight or flight kicks in, and he launches himself at Grimmjow. He knows the fight would be over if he just removed his scent patches, but where’s the fun in that? What kind of Grim Reaper would he be if he let it end at that?

Blondie lands a hit to Grimmjow’s jaw, and he feels it crack his bone. Adrenaline and anger mask the pain, and in an instant he’s above the kid, landing blow after blow after blow to his face with his bare knuckles, colouring his face crimson in a matter of seconds.

“Old man?” Grimmjow grunts sarcastically, the adrenaline subsiding with each moment of non-resistance. “This old man better not see you on this side of the tracks with intent to sell again, or I’ll rip those useless canines straight outta your face, got it?” He finishes, holding the blonde up by the front of his bloodied leather jacket and glaring down at his swollen, weepy face. Blondie can only groan in pain before going limp in Grimmjow’s grasp.

He drops him to the cement and glances up at the rest of the gang. With both alphas done with their brawl, the pheromones in the air have thinned, and the rest of the kids are in the process of regaining their composure.

“I fucking mean it,” Grimmjow continues with his warning. “I know you think you’re fucking invinci—”

He’s frozen by a sharp stinging sensation in the side of his neck, and when he swipes at it, something small, cylindrical, and plastic hits the ground next to his knee and rolls away from him.

A syringe.

They’ve drugged him.

“Run!” Someone screams from behind him, lurching with speed and strength Grimmjow knows wouldn’t be possible from anyone other than another dominant alpha. He grabs for Blondie, tosses his limp body over his shoulder and takes off down the alley as the rest of the gang scatters.

Grimmjow stumbles as he attempts to give chase, his vision swimming and heart pounding. He stops and crouches there in the alley behind a dumpster, closing his eyes and trying his goddamn hardest to regulate himself, to pinpoint the problem. His limbs are fine, and there’s no numbness, so that’s a plus, but he’s dizzy as all hell, and—

Slap.

He opens his eyes to see one of his scent blockers— a shriveled-looking skin-toned bandaid— lying there on the cement like it’d been used more than a few times. But he knows that’s not the case, knows that was a brand new fucking blocker and that it should’ve lasted him until at least tomorrow morning even if he wanted to sleep with it on.

He reaches for the one at the other side of his neck, and that one, too, slides off, looking a little more than worse for wear.

His pheromones have sweat the patches off.

This hasn’t happened to Grimmjow since he was going through goddamn puberty and the doctors couldn’t find the right dosage of inhibitors for him. He’s early thirties now, has been on the same goddamn pills since, and has never missed a dose. If there’s one thing Grimmjow cannot fucking stand, it’s an alpha who can’t control his fucking ruts.

And now he’s one of them.

Those shifty little fuckers have thrown him into rut.

“Motherfuckers!” He roars, knuckles meeting cement out of pure frustration, the pain that’s supposed to come with maiming oneself simply not present.

Grimmjow gets up and braces himself against the wall, breathing heavily and glancing between the mouth of the alley and the direction in which those little shits ran off. It’d be absolutely insane for them to want to stick around and try jump him, especially considering Blondie wasn’t using blockers, so there’s no doubt the end of the alley isn’t a completely dead end. Heading towards the street would only end in mayhem, so he stumbles deeper into the alley, using the brick wall for support when the cramping takes over and he needs a moment to breathe.

Fuck, he’s forgotten how this felt; forgotten just how base he goes when his hormones are running rampant, forgot how primal he is. He’s hungry. For food, for sex, for a good fucking fight.

His cock aches.

Still, he fights it. He’s not completely gone yet, but he can feel it pulling at him, irritating him, can feel it tickling his brain like a loose thread; one tug of it, and he’ll be feral. He’s exhausted, fighting the urge to pull the string, finds himself panting as he clutches at the spray paint covered brick with a bloodied hand, sweat dripping into his eyes, plastering powder blue hair to his forehead.

He briefly wonders if Aizen knew that they had this little ace up their sleeve, before deciding— with a baleful chuckle he didn’t know he still had in him— that he doesn’t even wanna know.

The last thing he sees before the world goes black is his own reflection in a shiny metal baseball bat

#grimmjow x reader #tw omegaverse #tw blood #tw drugs #leese writes

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teacuptoast · 1 year

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Swallow Your Pride

GIF by bitchbloggerspost

Relation: Young Justice x platonic! gn! reader

Warnings: Self-destructive tendencies, Alcohol, mention of death, angsty af so prepare yourself

Words: 1.6k

Summary: "Everyone wishes they had superpowers but I’d give anything for them to leave me alone.”

Swallow Your Pride is the 3rd Part of Dead or Alive or Neither, P2: Hollow Spectators

A/N: Only took me 5 months haha. Anyway, this one is definitely a favorite of mine so I hope you enjoy it. If you have any thoughts or feedback please consider leaving them in the comments! It really helps me grow as a writer and I love hearing from you all! Happy reading!

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“Does anything help? Anything make them go away?”

I shifted in my seat uncomfortably, “Nothing.”

“Anything…less recreational?”

“Handle of liquor doesn't even phase me, same with the drugs. Even the less PG activities don’t help, not physically anyway.”

Her pen scribbled down on the clipboard. Looking up at me every couple of seconds like I'd disappear. While her face didn’t show disappointment, I know she felt it. I could see it in her eyes, the ‘I wish I could have told her I loved her’ look or the ‘I can’t believe that's the last thing I said to him’ look.

Raising her head she looked up at me, eyes asking the obvious. I wouldn’t bring it up; because she would just spew it to the rest of them. They would tiptoe around me like I was covered in glass, fearing that one wrong move would break me completely. Maybe I was fraggle, mentally at least, but I think I've done a pretty good job at protecting myself.

“You’ve struggled for so long Y/N. We have the resources to help you,” She pleaded, “Why not reach out for help?”

It’s obvious isn’t it.

I calmly pursed my lips together, “Might as well frost a burnt cake.” Raising a brow, her face scrunched. It took her a few seconds but quickly understood.

“And if someone takes a bite,” She asked.

I shook my head and smiled, “Wouldn't change a thing. I’ve simply learned to live with it.”

“It doesn't take a stranger to see that your miserable Y/N. I’m asking you this not as your counselor but as your friend, please, let us help you,” Her eyes scanned for any reaction. She was left searching for anything on a cold, blank canvas.

“I’m not miserable,” I spoke sternly, “The only reason we’re having this conversation is because you suddenly know I have powers.”

My eyes tried to escape around the room as I sighed, “I’ve spent years learning to live with it in my own ways. I was thrown into this nightmare the moment I was born, and I've built quite the life out of my situation.”

The room seemed to be getting hotter as she tried to back petal, “I’m not trying to fix you Y/N–”

“Yes you are,” I bursted, “This is how we work. We stick our noses where we don’t belong until we find something to fix! Well maybe not everyone wants to be saved!” Now she was the one sighing, sinking deeper into her padded chair.

The silence settled in as I took my leave, “You can cut the whole counselor act too. I know you all are just itching to get me a collar.” Grabbing the handle I pushed the door open, wordlessly stepping past the bat hero on the other side.

***

Swaddled in a blanket I curled further into the couch. The sound of bad soap-drama reruns filled my small apartment, poorly drowning out the noise. I’d rather listen to 6 friends in a New York coffee shop than Mary Ann and Douglass, the couple who's been arguing continuously for the past 120 years.

A quiet sigh left my lips as I unwrapped myself. After a quick contemplation I quietly placed my feet on the hardwood flooring. Quickly hitting the remote, I stalked towards the kitchen in search of food. I wasn’t hungry, but I needed something to pass the time. That was a lie.

Scavenging through the cabinets my hands found nothing of interest. If there was no more pasta then I’d just eat rice. With a small shuffle of my feet I found the bag was gone, instead crumpled up and tossed next to the waste bin. A heartless chuckle left my mouth as my head dropped to the floor. It wasn’t long before my body followed, slumped against a cabinet holding my most expensive hobby.

I sat there for a long time, longer than I should have. Thoughts came and went like missed phone calls. They would pop up for a moment and I’d contemplate answering them, before eventually letting them drift on. My consciousness was adrift in a sea of problems, my body running on autopilot.

One sip, two sip, three sip, more sips. I let myself fall deeper into an ocean of expensive regret. Not swimming but drowning, willingly drowning. After letting myself go it was finally quiet; my life truly serene.

I’d sailed so far out that I hadn’t even realized I was now on my feet, stumbling towards the door. A knock or more like an aggressive hit was waiting on the other side. Looking through the keyhole I saw a familiar face.

“I brought food and some of that good liquor you like.”

“Thanks. You can leave it at the door.”

Sighing he looked towards the floor. The two of us waited like a western shootout and I wasn’t about to make the first move.

“Can we just talk,” he asked, “Please.”

Even when we were kids, I was the target of his constant nagging. To him I was proof he didn’t need powers to be a hero. A hero that wasn’t like Batman.

I stared at him a moment longer before reluctantly pulling the handle open. On the other side of the door was a disheveled Dick Grayson. He was wearing jeans and a sweater; nothing too fancy, but he was more put together then I was.

I brought my eyes up to his face where he was impatiently waiting for me. Though I was listening for the howels behind him. Waited for some backhanded comment about how I was the scum of the earth. How I deserved to be dead, not spite those who are already. My mind was foggy and distant, far enough away from reality that I simply couldn’t see them.

Braking from his eyes, I held a hand out and gestured towards the bottle in his grasp. Quickly, he rearranged his hold on the plastic bag and pushed it towards me. My hand anxiously grabbed it before bringing it down to my side.

I couldn’t bother to look at the label as I wandered back towards the TV, “This better be the good shit, Grayson.”

“Only the best for the best,” he answered, hesitantly entering the apartment. Hearing the door shut behind him I fell into a mountain of blankets and pillows, snuggling myself into them. They shielded me from the upcoming conversation.

He took a seat next to me, undoubtedly uncomfortable. He didn’t know where to put his hands, so they ended up stuffed in his lap.

The silence must have been eerie for him as it fell over us. I quickly unscrewed the cap to the bottle. This wasn’t like when we patrolled the watch tower, back then we trusted each other. Though someone had to make a move, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be me.

“Why,” he whispered, “Why didn’t you tell me.”

In his words it felt like a rock was logged in my throat, stopping me from answering. I can’t just tell him it wasn’t his fault. Am I supposed to explain what it’s like, because to me at least, it's livable. Strictly livable. How do you explain to a person who wants the one thing you hate most, that it’s not worth it.

A long breath passed my lips before I took a sip, “I didn’t want to.”

“You remember when we were kids, out in Bialya? I hadn’t even known you for 6 months, and guess who I ran to? You. I ran to you because I knew,” He took a sudden pause, “Well, I thought I knew.” A sense of betrayal laced his voice as he dared to look at me. Rolling my eyes I tipped the bottle again.

Coming out from the blankets I sat up, “It wasn’t your problem,” I slurred, “Besides it’s not like I'm dead or something. I’m still just a regular Joe.” That was another lie.

“A regular Joe who can communicate with the dead. And for the record, if you were actually ok, you would have realized that you were drinking a bottle of Tido’s.”

With the comment my eyes shot towards the bottle, “You son of a bitch,” I dryly laughed. I hated vodka, Tido’s especially; he must have remembered from my 21st.

Though he didn’t seem too amused, “For someone who ‘knows how to handle this’, you look awful,” Setting my poison on the floor he continued, “Swallow your pride Y/N, let us help you.” I looked up to make sure I heard him correctly. When I realized I did, something snapped.

It was the straw that broke the camel's back.

“Can you help me? Like you have a clue about what goes on inside my head,” I started, “I have spent years, no, decades figuring how to live like this.”

My sarcasm started to boil into anger, “So yeah, i’m not perfectly happy, but at least I can say I’m alive. After being surrounded by grief and death for so long, I can finally prove to myself I’m alive.”

“Maybe being alive isn’t what the world needs from me, but for the first time in my life, I want to live. Live like death isn’t two steps behind me,”

“Then let us help you-”

Amused, I looked at him, “I’m done with this hero bullshit.”

He looked panicked by their sudden statement, “Then let me save you Y/N.”

“Haven’t you learned anything,” I shouted, “I can’t let you save me, because I want to save myself!”

A/N: How was the story? Got some feedback? Let me know in the comments. Thanks for reading and I'll see you soon!

#young justic x reader #young justice imagines #kid flash x you #nightwing x reader #dc x reader #dc imagine #dc imagines #batfam x reader

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apocalypse-shuffle · 9 months

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JASON TODD | RED HOOD (batman:under the red hood 2010 | canon divergence?)

────────────────────

“In Your Eyes” (Jason Todd x Gn!Reader)

| Jason Todd is gone, has been for years, but his ghost still haunts you.

| SFW, angst, reader was in a relationship w/Jay (TW: suicide, passively suicidal reader-insert, hallucinations, blood, personal neglect, mature language) - could be platonic or romantic honestly

| Just go with the timeline weirdness. (pics via: Batman: Under The Red Hood 2010 movie)

| 1k+ words

b.NOTES: Yes, I decided to post this for Jason’s birthday, and yes, it is a downer. 🥳🎉

This was going badly, even you could admit that. Every possible thing that could’ve gone wrong was going wrong. You were out of batarangs because Bruce had threatened to bench you for failing to follow orders so you’ve been avoiding him; subsequently missing your last supply check.

You’d been in a nasty fight coordinated by Oracle with Nightwing last week and your suit too had gotten fucked to hell but your backup was, once again, at the manor. Then what was supposed to be a by the numbers recon mission was now a shoot out because you haven’t slept for more than three hours in days and you slipped up.

Bruce’s disappointed scowl flashes across your mind as you slam into an abandoned office, a hail of bullets cascading after you.

Icing on the fucking cake was that you couldn’t even call him for help if you wanted to. You had abandoned your com two days ago when the announcement that Tim was joining the Titans had gone live. It was irrational, you had known he was joining. Hell, you’ve even met the kid, but something about the news had just jarred you more than even fighting alongside the new Robin had. Now everyone had concrete confirmation (if they paid attention at least) that Jay was gone and it hurt.

When the last barrage has calmed down - and you can just barely make out the sounds of people converging on your cover - you move with a wild burst of energy, crashing yourself through the office window. The second story drop out of the foreclosed building should’ve been easy, the shouts being left behind you and wind nicking at your face should’ve been the end of this nightmare mission.

Instead there’s the zip of something harshly breaking through the air followed by searing heat as you’re hit mid fall.

“Fuck!”

The second you land you crumble to the ground, slapping your hand over the furiously bleeding wound.

The back of the knee.

Fucker managed to get you right where it’d hurt and the projectile broke right through your armor like it was nothing.

Blood trickles down your leg, quickly saturating the absorbable pieces of your costume.

Yeah, you’ve officially gotta get outta dodge.

A very real problem arises though when you limp forward and not only does your knee buckle dangerously but there’s a man blocking your easiest exit out the alleyway you landed in.

“You lost, little bat?”

“Nng,” is all you can grunt out. You fling your last batarang, absently clocking as it knocks the gun from the man’s hands and the goon yelps in surprise. Your leg feels completely drenched, and you should feel more pressed about that than you do.

Just then is when your knee decides to give out and you drop to the ground hard with a thin scream. There’s spots dancing in your vision and the guy’s talking but you can’t hear a word.

You rush in a stuttering breath, fighting against the pull of your eye lids. Maybe… maybe you could just finally go to sleep - you can’t remember the last time you hit REM without immediately being jolted awake by your dreams anyway - why not camp out here until one of the bats found you or…or you died of hypothermia. Who knew concrete could feel as good as memory foam.

The pounding of feet grabs your attention next - each foot fall vibrating your skull - and you blink back to yourself however many seconds later. Head lifting what catches your eye makes your body still.

No, goddamnit. Not now. You shake your head but the resolve catches in your throat anyway.

"I thought you were dead." You feel out of breath with relief now, examining his domino-less face. Drinking up the mere sight of him.

"I know." He whispers; soft but not quite apologetic.

He steps closer and you shudder, have to force yourself not to take a corresponding shuffle back. This couldn't be.

He was still in the vibrant reds, greens, and yellows of his Robin uniform. He always was whenever you dreamed even though the last time you’d seen him was at a book reading where he was in regular clothing. In that damn red hoodie.

Even though you know the costume he died in was in tatheres, caked in his eviscerated flesh and burnt-in blood, the suit you see now is impossibly pristine.

"No,” you mutter weakly. Jason moves closer and goes to put his light hand to your dark cheek. You grab and throw it down, pushing yourself up and back, heartbeat clammering up your throat as your wounded leg drags after you.

"No! No! I won't-" your back hits the brick wall behind you and you collapse. Bruce had been chewing you out about getting help for the insomnia and to get therapy to move past Jason's death but you’d ignored him, ignored everyone, even your parents. Now it was too late.

On the cold wet floor you shrink into yourself, crying.

"Jason Todd is dead!" You yell, looking at the image in front of you. You swear you can feel the rush of air from him crouching down.

Jason frowns at you and there are tears building up in his eyes. You gag. You were so tired of your mind throwing shit like this at you. You couldn't do it anymore.

It’s when you’re screaming at nothing that the goon takes advantage of your distraction and lunges forward towards the gun that he’d lost at your intervention. He cocks it at the mouth of the alleyway. You sit down at the other end, only briefly looking at the man aiming at you before shifting your blurry gaze back to Jason.

His eyes get cloudy and distraught, but you just keep babbling nonsense at him, tears streaming down your skin in ravines. Jason opens his mouth and stands but doesn't come any closer.

"Y/N please don't do this, I'm here. I'm with you, I swear, just please make him put the gun down. Throw a smoke bomb, run away, something,” he begs, tears of his own now cascading down his face.

“Not this time,” you whisper. You weren’t letting another sleep addled hallucination keep you alive, the pain that came with that burden was too much. Death was so much better. You just wanted it to end. "I'm sorry, Jay, but I can't."

Jason hiccups, shakes his head rapidly.

"Yes you can, just leave." He takes a step forward. The man’s finger begins pressing down on the trigger. "Just run away, please!" He screams out a plea you’ve heard more than once, a plea you can no longer heed to.

The gunshot goes off and you don’t dodge, you don’t try to lessen the blow, or make sure it hits somewhere non lethal. You just close your eyes and let the bullet break through already compromised armor.

"Y/N!"

- - -

The gun clatters to the ground as the gunman watches the hero slump.

“Shit.” He runs. That wasn’t supposed to happen. Vigilantes weren’t supposed to stay down in Gotham.

Your hand slides to your side; body limp and leant crookedly against the wall, black skin under you mask too washed out - to grey - to come back from.

There were no traces of any former Robins having been in the alleyway when the Batman found you. Just of one ordinary goon in a sea of many who you should’ve been able to fend off.

- - -

When Jason had gotten his mind back he'd been dead set on Gotham; on Bruce and finding his old best friend. So a few hours after he'd been back in his hometown he mustered up enough courage to go to your house.

Except it was different.

Where shelves were once overflowing with books and collectibles in your room they were now bare and dust riddled. Where a bed used to lay was just barren ground, and where it once felt like home it now felt more like rapid cruelty and crushing emptiness.

That night Jason had snuck back out of your old house with cold eyes and a churning stomach, he'd never admit to himself that he felt this much dread at missing out on so many years of life that you'd already moved out, moved on. Hell, your parents weren’t even there anymore.

That night he tries to blow up the Batmobile, Batman and the pretender in his place with it. That night he decides he can do much worse than some bomb.

- - -

It'd been a whirlwind trying to find you but eventually Jason did, just not the way he'd expected.

He had been looking for a couple of deserters and was ganged up on by a group of Mask’s thugs who had been working for him - guess he’d found those deserters - and were looking to get back in Mask’s good graces by taking down the Big Bad Hood and overthrowing his newly minted empire.

Jason had been chased over the rooftops of Gotham - picking off who he could as he went - till he could lose the group in the minefield that was the largest graveyard on the outskirts of the city.

He had been deftly making his way through the resting place when a bouquet of flowers caught his attention. Your favorite.

A small smile stretched across Jason's face as he sidled up to the tombstone. He initially meant to look at the flowers for a second before continuing on his way, but the beginnings of your name on the shiny stone caught him up.

Jason furrowed his eyebrows before sucking in a sharp breath after he let his thumb ghost over the engraved name to uncover what the dirt was hiding.

He took a step back in shock as he read your full name, clear as day, in the granite. Tears welled in his eyes and he ripped his helmet and domino mask from his face, dropping to the ground. His hands shook as they slid over the wet dirt that covered your casketed body.

“No. Fuck, not like this. I wasn’t supposed to find you like this.”

He was supposed to come back and make everything better. Bruce was supposed to finally avenge him, and you were supposed to reunite, not trade places.

e.NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!!

This is an edited/updated version of one of the first Jason Todd fics I’d ever written. I did keep some of its logistic oddness for preservation purposes though.

To my surprise also I didn’t have to edit as much of this as I thought, so props to twelve year old me fr😉. (Also I wrote this when I was actually suicidal so please be respectful, it is a tad bit mean-spirited - Maybe? I feel like it could come off that way to other people, idk?)

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it. I just won’t respond cause this is a sideblog.

#⚠️ TW: Suicide ⚠️#jason todd #red hood #black!reader #black y/n #jason todd x black!reader #jason todd & black!reader #happy birthday jason #gn!reader #black gn reader #red hood x black!reader #jason todd angst #jason todd imagine #red hood imagine #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader

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xirayn · 1 year

Text

Like Biting Bats (Very Metal)

Read Ch 1 of the full fic here

1 | 2 | 3 | 4

Featuring @aibhlynn as Eddie

The tape with Corroded Coffin’s music has been playing in Steve’s car on repeat. The few attempts to sing along have been made difficult by the live-wire energy of Eddie’s vocals. They tear through the instrumentals in a battle that neither side is winning. When Robin had heard it, she compared Eddie’s voice to a hot pepper overpowering the flavors of a chili, while Steve’s voice is more like chocolate. He had been lost until she explained that the best chilies use chocolate to balance out the heat of the peppers and enhance the flavors of the spices in that slow, leading way she does while waiting for him to catch up.

Steve tries again while waiting for Eddie in the school parking lot. The music is turned down so he doesn’t have to compete with it. His eyes close to help him better hear his spot among the melody and meter. After a deep breath, he stops trying to imitate Eddie’s voice, lets himself be Steve, and starts singing. Images of singing with Eddie come up as he does; seeing the way his dark eyes light up when they hit a harmony.

A thud against the window startles Steve. He twists around ready for a fight, but the sight of a paper with ‘B+’ at the top in bold, red marker by Eddie’s name has the adrenaline giving way to excitement.

It’s the last passing grade Eddie needed to graduate.

“Nancy did it!” Steve exclaims through the glass. His eyes move to Eddie, who was beaming like an absolute idiot. “You did it!”

“I did it!” Eddie whoops. He clutches the paper to his chest and does a joyous little jig before darting around the front of the car. He opens the door and flings himself into the passenger seat, quickly yanking the door closed and buckling his seatbelt.

“I owe Nancy the biggest thank you,” he laughs in a high voice that bubbles with excitement. The paper is held out as far as he can in admiration.

“Cake.” His expression gets impossibly brighter as he looks over at Steve. “We need to get a cake. And- I don’t know – ice cream. We can get everyone together and throw a party because I’m finally fucking graduating!”

“You’re graduating!” Steve clasps Eddie’s shoulder and affectionately shakes it, matching that infectious, celebratory energy.

“I’m graduating.” Eddie’s arms drop and he stares down at the paper crinkled between his fingers. His wild grin settles into something quiet and happy. He chuckles. “Man - how do you even plan a party?”

He has seen the graduation parties of his friends and peers who had ultimately left him behind, along with Hawkins High. Now it was his turn. He going to walk that stage, look Principal Higgins dead in the eye, flip him the bird, snatch that diploma and-

His eyes flick towards Steve.

“This is real, right? I passed? This is a B+ next to my name?” Eddie’s excitement was beginning to be tempered by disbelief. He’s rarely gotten above a C in anything.

“Yep. Just don’t cause too much trouble and it’s all downhill from here, man.”

Eddie scoffs, leaning forward to shove the paper into his bag. “Who do you think you’re talking to, Harrington?” He sits back up with a mischievous grin and prods Steve between the ribs. “Trouble is my middle name.”

“Alright, alright.” Steve swats away the finger jabbing his side. “Where does the future graduate want to go?”

They don’t have any obligations until band practice tomorrow since the kids are spending the night at the Hopper-Byers’ house. Vickie has also been having Robin over for ‘girls nights’ that Robin insists don’t mean anything. Even if it isn’t anything, Steve is happy for her. She deserves friends beyond him.

“I’m starving,” Eddie comments. He goes to poke Steve again, only to pull back before his hand is smacked again. A playful wink accentuates his grin. “Steak and Ale,” he suggests since the government is generously paying the hush money that allows for the occasional splurge, “or did you want to grab a pizza? There is also that new soda shop on Second Street.”

Steven snorts at the idea of them in a soda shop. For a moment, he imagines them as Sandy and Danny, the prep and the greaser, drinking a root beer float with two straws. Except that Steve is no Sandy in a way that has nothing to do with gender.

“Your choice, man.”

Tag list

@amoris-no-smut-allowed @zerokrox-blog @babyrunsforfanfic @killmeinmydreams @beeing-stuupid @impeachy @archerwithmanybows @alienace @awkwardgravity1 @nuttychaosface @lexyvey @beckkthewreck @obsessivlyme @artiststarme @icecweme @estrellami-1 @spectrum-spectre @newtstabber

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #corroded coffin #steddie fic #stranger things au #steddie au #let steve be in the band

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doyouknowbtsswag · 11 months

Text

Baseball |Seungmin AU|

Making this gif was annoying

The uniform was red and black but it had a red and black striped uniform with white buttons. The material used for the shirt was nice and made it easy to take on and off.

"I will don't worry" he smiled and held my hand. "When am I not careful?"

"The time you face-planted on the dirt to catch a ball and almost broke your nose"

"And I caught it" He smiled "Plus when you played softball you scratched yourself every game"

"This isn't about me it's about you" I looked up at him when I finished fixing the uniform. "There you go"

"It's gonna get messed up after the first inning."

"So? You should look nice when you get out on the big screen”

"Seungmin say bye to your girlfriend and let's go you need to warm up. " his teammate said annoyed.

I understand why he was annoyed. It was the championship and they were going against NCT who had multiple good players. Although Straykids didn't have 9 players they recruited their close friend.

"I'm coming I'm coming" He sighed smiling. "Bye love"

"Bye minee you got this" I smiled kissing his cheek. He fixed my baseball hat and walked away with his annoyed teammate who grabbed his hand because he was "too slow".

I went up to get something to eat and drink before the game started. Seungmin felt bad that I wasn't able to watch from the VIP box but I reassured him it was fine. I grabbed popcorn and soda along with Seungmin's favorite candy and walked back to my seat. It was relatively close to perfect seating next to the foul ball section. Of course, I brought a glove to tease Seungmin before an inning started. I smiled and watch Seungmin ran to the pitcher's mound. His grandfather was a pitcher which inspired him to be one. Seungmin had a dark purple glove which was his favorite color. The coach approved of the color which set him into a good mood for days. each teammate had their own color. I watched as Seungmin made his pitching stance. The sweet carefree Seungmin turned into a whole other person.

He glared at player 23 as he hit the ball in the outfield that was easily caught by Jeongin. Jeongin threw the ball to Chan so Seungmin could have it. The game was entertaining, to say the least. Thanks to Minho's reflexes getting outs at first was a piece of cake. Changbin having a stronger body made it easy for them to get on bases and hit the ball further. Han and Minho communicated well so double plays were easy from any direction. Chan can easily get almost every hit to him. Unfortunately, some players could hit and others not so much. The team didn't quite have the same level of hitting as their opponents.

It was the last inning and both teams were tired. NCT was batting first and everyone was on edge. Straykids was up by one hit. All they had to do was make sure they didn't score and they made sure of that. Seungmin had the most pressure. He had to make sure his pitches were on point. His hands were shaky and he zoned out a little. There were two outs and the bases were full. He threw a ball almost hitting the batter. He tapped his foot as caught the ball so he could make the next pitch. He threw yet another ball this time low. He got the ball back and looked up frustrated. He looked over to where I was giving me almost a cry for help literally. I smiled and gave him a heart and blew a kiss.

"LET'S GO NUMBER 8!" I yelled which gave me some questionable stares.

Seungmin smiled a little and focused back to the game. He looked back to the ball and wiped his hand on his pants. He grabbed the ball taking a deep breath and threw the ball right to Changbin who gave him a nod. Changbin caught the ball which was outside.

"Take it easy," Han said from second base trying to comfort his teammate.

"Come on" Seungmin whispered to himself he threw the last pitch.

He pitched the ball which the batter swung at. The ball was hit right to Seungmin managed to catch the ball cushioning it from hitting his stomach preventing him from getting a severe injury. That was the third out which solidified their win. Everyone on his team yelled and hugged Seungmin jumping up and down. He flinched a bit but hugged back anyway.

"That's my pitcher!" Changbin yelled hugging Seungmin again.

"That was getting scary at the end," Seungmin said laughing at his own pain.

"Are you okay?" Chan said concerned. "I saw the ball hit you in the stomach.

"I cushioned it enough to stop it from hitting my stomach hard but I know I have a bad bruise," Seungmin said.

"Be careful". Han said rubbing his hair.

"Stop that" He smiled pushing his hand off his hair.

After their celebration, there was a ceremony dedicated to their team's win. everyone had a medal and Chan held the trophy. I smiled watching Seungmin's bright smile. People took pictures around them and followed the team until they made it to the dugout.

"Great job everyone, I'm proud of you all and I can't wait for next season because I know we can end up back to the championship!" Their coach said as everyone was backing up.

"Let me look at your stomach," the athletic trainer said before Seungmin could leave. "I want to make sure it's not something serious"

"I'm sure I'm fine but safe than sorry." He said as he pulled up the side of his shirt which had a nasty bruise.

"Do you mind if I touch it? It's to make sure there's nothing wrong internally."

Seungmin nodded getting a little nervous. The athletic trainer touched his bruise and he winced.

"Everything feels fine, thankfully it just barely missed critical organs. I suggest you take it easy for a few weeks and if you notice the bruise gets worse or there is no sign of its healing go to the hospital to get it checked out." She said. "Good job today though"

"Thank you" He smiled and walked away. I waited for him at the entrance smiling about his success.

"Seungmin!" I smiled running up to hug him. "You did such a good job!"

"Of course I did," He said wincing about but chuckled at your excitement.

"Your okay right?" I said pulling away. "I'm sorry I forgot"

"It's okay" He smiled. "It's just a bruise nothing more"

"How bad?" I said.

"The bruise is not pretty that's for sure but it's fine" He reassured leaving out what the athletic trainer told him. "I was just told to take it easy"

"I told you not to hurt yourself!" I crossed my arms holding the candy. "No candy for you"

"Wait it's not my fault," He said whining jokingly.

"Alright alright," I said giving him the candy. "Let's go home so you can so you can relax superstar"

"Sounds good" He smiled putting his arm around me.

"I'll even make you favorite" I looked at him. "I'll take care of you don't worry"

"I wouldn't want anyone else to," He said kissing my cheek.

————————————————————————

I want to apologize for not posting in a while. This has been in my drafts but a lot of things popped up since I'm graduating high school I needed to focus on picking a college. I also found out about the passing of my favorite teacher recently. I'm still upset about it but I'm doing my best to get it out of my mind. I hope you guys understand. Remember you all are ✨ PERFECT ✨ and ✨ WORTH IT ✨ the way you are. Love you, guys!

#stray kids #stray kids x reader #christopher bang #han stray kids #lee felix #lee minho #kim seungmin #straykids seungmin #seungmin x reader #straykids scenarios #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fluff #seungmin #stray kids jisung

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dumdumsun · 1 year

Text

To Nightfall

A/N: A sad chapter, my loves. There's one paragraph that could be particularly triggering, so I have it marked with bold arrows for those who don't want to read it to skip.

Warnings: ⚠️suicide⚠️, blood and gore, character death, alcohol, mentions of alcohol, blood and death/dying

Word Count: 6817

—————————————

Chapter 15: Wedding at the End of the World

It was a cataclysmic disaster of ember-turned homes and buildings, the survival rate of zero percent resulting in the extinction of man-kind for a third time. Outside the Hotel Obsidian, that is.

While everything and everyone was being sucked into the radiated black hole outside, the twelve survivors within the hotel were unaffected by the demolition. It was currently the only building left completely intact in the entire world. The Umbrella Academy and what was left of the Sparrow Academy sat together within one of the lounge rooms, quietly awaiting an answer or possibly an end to them as well.

“So,” Allison started. “How is it that we’re still here, but the whole of the universe is going down the cosmic shitter?”

Viktor shrugged from the chair he sat in. “Maybe we’re the last of it flushed.”

“Wasn’t talking to you.”

He rolled his eyes before Luther spoke up from where he sat cuddled up beside Sloane. “Hey, has anyone seen Klaus?”

Sloane looked up at him in realization. “Or Dad?”

“They’ll be here.” Diego answered.

“Really? Did they… hit traffic?” Ben sarcastically shrugged. “Look, people, we’re alive because we’re special, right? We’re the only ones who can save the universe.”

Allison raised her hand. “Uh, question.”

“Yes.”

“Didn’t we just try that and fail miserably?”

“Yeah, because his plan was stupid.” Diego cut in. “I got a better one.”

Ben rolled his eyes. “‘Course you do.”

“We go with the large hard-on particle accelerator. You guys do some science, and…” He clicked his tongue and mimicked the swing of a baseball bat. “...we launch the Kugelblitz into outer space. Didn’t think I knew that, did ya? It’s in Switzerland.”

“It’s ‘hadron’, not ‘hard-on’, ya moron!”

Lila turned herself around from her upside down position on her chair to look at Ben. “Oi! At least he’s trying, you shitty little squid. What have you contributed?”

“Actually,” Diego pointed at him. “He did blow up half his family.”

“Oh, you wanna talk about family problems?” He moved up to Diego. “You know what should have blown up is your face on that neck!”

“I wish I had a cake to hit you with it in your face!”

They switched to the Korean and Spanish language to continue arguing before Five cut them off out of irritation. “Hey!” He shouted. “You guys done? The universe is disappearing outside. So, you can keep rearranging the deck chairs of the Titanic if it makes you feel better. But the fact remains that we are too late.”

Everyone in the room scoffed at his words. Never had they ever heard of Five giving up on the end of the world. He always had some sort of solution to a dead-end, to a life-threatening situation. The sound of him accepting their fate didn’t sit well with any of them.

“Five, come on.” Luther chuckled, hoping his brother was joking.

“It’s over, Luther. We failed.”

Viktor sat up. “Come on. It can’t be over over.”

“Yeah, come on, Five. We gotta figure this out, man.” Diego agreed.

“Okay.” He nodded. “How about we take a step back? Look at the big picture here. Most of us have spent the last twenty-eight days trying to stop the world from ending. What exactly have we accomplished?”

They all looked down, vocals unnecessary for the true answer, though Luther saw fit to try anyway. “Well,” He smiled down at Sloane. “We made some friends along the way.”

“Incorrect! You know what we’ve done? Nothing. We made things worse every single time. It was exactly what (Y/N) was trying to tell me and I didn’t listen to her.” He sighed, shaking his head. “Look, when I went to the Commission, I had a conversation with my hundred-year-old self. And my last words were, ‘Don’t save the world’.”

“‘Don’t save the world’?”

“‘Don’t save the world’.”

Diego waved his hand in dismissal. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Is it?” Luther narrowed his eyes. “Well, whatever we’re doing’s not working. All we ever do is save the world for a day, pat ourselves on the back, and then everything goes to shit again.”

“Yeah, maybe we’re the problem.” Viktor shrugged.

“Oh, yeah,” Allison scoffed. “Us.”

“So, wait.” Lila looked up at Five. “Your big plan is… no plan?”

Five pointed at her. “Exactly. Conscientious objection. Why the hell not? We’ve tried everything else.” His eyes roamed over everyone’s dreadful faces. “Look, maybe this is just what the universe needs. I say, embrace the apocalypse. See what’s on the other side.”

“What if it’s… nothing?” Sloane quietly asked.

“Then it’s been nice knowing you all. Whatever’s on your bucket list, I recommend you do that now.”

Five gulped, a terrible feeling in his gut. He didn’t truly want to believe that this would be one of the last moments with his family. He spent almost his entire life trying to save them and now it proved itself to be fruitless. Five finally solved his life-time equation he had been pondering. The likelihood of saving any and everyone was less to none. With a defeated sigh, he sat down. Luther and Sloane silently shared a smile before the former spoke up.

“Well, on that… super happy note, we’ve um…” He glanced at Sloane for a moment before they giddily laughed and stood. “Oh, what the hell. We’ve, uh, got a little announcement to make.”

“We’re engaged!” They cheered in unison, Sloane holding up a hand where a ring sat on her finger.

“Kill me, Jesus…”

“Idiots…”

“Now?”

Luther held a hand up to get them to hear him out. “Yeah. Look, we realize the timing is less than ideal. But obviously, it’s now or never. Am I right, Five?”

“Don’t drag me into this, please.”

His smile fell as Sloane spoke up. “What… Whatever time we have left, we wanna spend it with all of you. So, we’re super pumped if you would join us in the banquet hall at six p.m. for a celebration of our love, and the official union of what’s left of our two great families.”

Luther held his smiling fiance tight as he nodded. “Dress code is creative black tie.”

Meanwhile in a hotel room a floor above them all, Umbrella (Y/N), now dressed in a grey button up tucked into a pair of black cargo shorts, hurried inside with a glass of water in her hand. She walked up to Sparrow (Y/N), now dressed in a black crop top with buckle straps and black cargo pants, and held the glass out to her.

“Here. You need to drink this.”

“No, I-” The woman clutched her head in her hands and shut her eyes. “No, I can’t right now.”

“(Y/N), you’ve been hyperventilating in intervals for the past two hours. You’re dehydrated. Drink this water.”

At that, the Sparrow quickly turned to her and took the glass from her, mechanically gulping the entire thing down without a second to lose. Once she’d drained it, she blinked rapidly and twisted her bracelet on her wrist. Umbrella (Y/N) frowned and took the glass back as she watched her idly stand there, as if she wasn’t having a panic attack just a second ago.

“(Y/N)?”

“Y-Yes?”

“What is your obsession with that bracelet?”

Sparrow (Y/N) snapped her head up, brows raised and eyes wide. “Bracelet?” She quickly let go of it. “This old thing? I don’t have an obsession with it. W-What are you… No, stop it!!!” She screamed and backed away when the girl reached out for the accessory. Umbrella (Y/N) her hands up in defense.

“Okay… I’m sorry. I just don’t understand. Why do you care so much about it? It’s just a bracelet.”

“No, i-it’s my…” She cradled her wrist. “It’s my lifesource.”

The young girl’s shoulders slumped at that. “(Y/N), come on…”

“It’s true!”

“That thing is not your ‘lifesource’. You know what that is?” She inched closer to her. “That is yet another crazy thought implanted in your mind by your abusive siblings. You can’t keep letting them have this hold over you, (Y/N).”

The Sparrow sniffled. “You don’t understand… All of my siblings are dying a-and nothing makes sense right now. But this is the only thing that does. This- This bracelet, I’ve always had it. I’ve never taken it off. If I do, I die.”

“Well, what about it is keeping you alive?”

She shook her head frantically. “I don’t- I don’t know…”

“That’s the problem, (Y/N). They didn’t even bother to tell you why exactly you need to wear that thing all the time. Removing that bracelet is one step closer to healing yourself.” She softly smiled. “I promise.”

Hesitantly, Sparrow (Y/N) slipped her white beaded bracelet off of her wrist, her shaking hand setting it into her double’s palm. Umbrella (Y/N) smiled down at it and closed her hand around it. “See? And nothing happ… ened…”

Her words trailed off when she looked up, finding the light in the Sparrow’s eyes snuffed out. Her gaze was far away now, staring at the empty space before her. Her limbs that were once trembling were now stiff and unmoving. She looked like a soldier, like a…

“Clone…” Umbrella (Y/N) whispered as her head spun. “You’re a clone.”

Sparrow (Y/N) straightened, her face crumpling at those words. She looked to be in complete anguish as her shaking hands slowly reached up towards her abdomen. As soon as her nails sunk into her skin, her knees buckled and Umbrella (Y/N) rushed to catch her. She carefully lowered herself until she was sitting on the floor, her double resting between her legs with her head against her thigh. She was self-destructing.

“O-Oh, god…” The Sparrow sniveled as her blood dribbled down her skin. “I-I…”

“No.” The Umbrella sobbed. “N-No, don’t talk. Please… Please, j-just-”

“I-Is this gonna hurt, (Y/N)?” She cried. “Am I gonna die? I-Is it gonna hurt…?”

“I’m so sorry… I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I didn’t know, I’m so sorry…”

The Sparrow grunted as her flesh tore, blood oozing and collecting in both of their clothes. More blood seeped from her mouth as she threw her head back and looked up at her younger self, who was bawling her eyes out. “Hey… it’s okay. Don’t- Aah! D-Don’t worry about me, you little shit…” She smiled. “(Y/N), I need you to listen to me.”

Umbrella (Y/N) cried even harder as she watched the woman rip her stomach open even more.

“Listen to me. Are- A-Are you listening?”

“I’m listening…” She croaked out.

“Find me. The real me. Find her, okay? Y-You nee- need to pro-o- promise me.”

“I-I promise…”

Sparrow (Y/N) smiled just a tad wider and reached a bloody hand up, gently caressing the girl’s face with it. “I love you, little sister.” She choked as tears fell down her face. “You were the best part of me.”

The Umbrella nodded her head and tearfully smiled as well. “I love you, too…”

The hand on her face slowly slid away, leaving a handprint on her cheek before it traveled back down to the Sparrow’s body. She cried out in pain as she unwillingly tore her skin apart, blood splattering all throughout the room. (Y/N)’s body shook with screamed sobs as she held her close, petting her hair as she slowly died in her arms.

She tried to think of better times. Their shopping spree, their ice cream date. She thought of getting their nails done together and the way they freed each other through a simple haircut. She thought of exploring different parts of her, not the (Y/N) who bowed to her siblings’ every command, but the passionate and witty one who she learned to love. A part of her she didn’t know she needed until coming face-to-face with her.

(Y/N) had learned not only a different kind of love from her, but a different kind of loss.

When the screams decrescendoed to silence, she slowly opened her eyes, bile rushing to her throat at the mess of blood and organs that was left of such an amazing person. Her face was mangled beyond recognition and her blood stained (Y/N)’s hair and skin and clothes. For a long while, she could do nothing but stare in silent horror at the remains of what she had just witnessed.

Her glossy eyes stay trained on the shadow the remains had formed into, the black mass slinking its way out of the room. It was going to its source.

Quickly standing, (Y/N) stumbled down the halls, following the shadow as it practically flew across the floor. Soon, she didn’t need to follow it, for her sudden itchiness and sweats grew the closer she got to her destination. She viciously scratched at the itch on her shoulder as she entered the room her symptoms worsened in.

In the corner of her and Five’s room sat a huddled figure. They were in all black attire, knees pulled to their chest and arms covering their head. (Y/N) clenched her teeth against the sudden urge to punch this person in their mouth and slowly approached them. “Hey,” She tried to soothe the growl in her voice. “Are you okay?”

The true Sparrow (Y/N) snapped her head up, tears falling from her frightened (e/c) eyes. Every part of her body was trembling and her lip quivered with her frown. As soon as she set her sights on Umbrella (Y/N), her gaze turned venomous against her will. “It’s you…”

“Yeah,” The girl crouched beside her, wincing at the force she used to fight against her symptoms. “You- You might be feeling really weird right now, and it’s hard to explain. You might feel the need to kill me right now.”

“I-I do, actually.”

“And I’m asking that you don’t. Look, I wanna help you, okay? But in order for me to do that, we have to be nice to each other. No matter how crazy we feel right now.”

Sparrow (Y/N) sniffled, tears welling up in her eyes. Her eyes that were sunken in with dark circles underneath. Whatever energy she once had seemed to be drained from her body because she looked too weak to move. Her current position resembled a wounded animal in need of rescue. The way her eyes darted everywhere in the room as if she were looking for a quick exit told it all.

“I just… I don’t wanna be here.” She quietly cried, wiping away the sweat on her forehead.

Umbrella (Y/N) got to her feet and reached a hand out to her. “Okay, well… Where do you wanna go?”

The Sparrow looked up at her with big eyes, hesitancy clear on her face. Nevertheless, she took hold of the girl’s hand and wobbly stood. Wordlessly, she let go and slogged out of the room, slamming into a wall. She could hardly hold herself up.

The Umbrella hurried out of the room and let the woman lean her weight against her. As Sparrow (Y/N) led them through halls, the two silently endured their worsening symptoms. The flatulence was slightly embarrassing for the both of them, but they continued on anyway. Neither voiced it, but they were utterly parched, unable to produce any saliva to hold them over for now. And neither of them said it, but they were drowning in paranoid thoughts.

Was this a trap? What if she was leading her to some sort of torture chamber? What if she truly were trying to murder her? Would she be able to fight her off? No one would find her dead body, would they?

Why was there a tiny version of her? What did she want? Was she going to kill her? She couldn’t let that happen. She better think of a plan to take her down before she gets to her.

They both tried their best to push away these thoughts, but every time they popped a bubble, a new one would form, obscuring their vision from any common sense. It was the influence of the paradox psychosis, and they couldn’t give into the fiery rage they felt towards each other.

Umbrella (Y/N) looked up when she noticed they were heading straight for a certain room at the end of the hall. The White Buffalo Suite. She started to wonder what was so important to the Sparrow about this room, but right as they reached the door, the woman sharply turned to the wall beside the room. With a sniffle, Sparrow (Y/N) pressed her palm into the wall, a door forming and opening.

“What the hell is this?” The Umbrella asked as the Sparrow leaned away from her.

“A panic room.” She whispered.

“Why, though?”

“In case I… woke up.”

“I don’t understand-” Before she could go after her, Sparrow (Y/N) darted into the room and slammed the door shut. Umbrella (Y/N) pushed on the knobless door to force her way in, but it wouldn’t budge. “(Y/N)! What’s going on?”

She received no answer, so she pressed her back against the wall and slid to the floor. In silence, she waited for her double to exit the room. Everything in the past fifteen minutes had been such a blur and yet she remembered it so clearly. (Y/N) watched herself die in the most gruesome way possible.

What was the point of her true Sparrow self projecting her consciousness into a clone for so long? Was it something she decided to start doing? Was it against her will? Did she even know what she was doing? She would have to undergo much questioning in order to sort this all out.

(Y/N) flinched at the sound of a muffled bang and thud, and quickly turned to the hidden door. “(Y/N)?” She called out, knocking on the door. “You okay in there?”

No answer.

“(Y/N)...?”

At another knock, the door opened, granting her access. Stepping inside, she noticed that the room was devoid of any furniture aside from a table in the middle along with a chair. She quickly cupped her hand over her mouth to hold back the bile rapidly shooting up her throat at the sight before her.

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

Sparrow (Y/N) was sat at the table, her body slumped over with her head resting against it. Her arm was lying on the table as well, a handgun in her limp grasp. Her eyes were still wide open as blood leaked from the wound in her head, trailing down her face and pooling onto the table beside her head.

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

(Y/N) tried to shake herself out of the state of horror she was in as she slowly approached the body, a shaky hand reaching out and taking the gun. When she checked it, she saw that there were no more bullets. She wondered whether or not it was always like that, if it was meant to be like that. (Y/N) couldn’t imagine what this woman went through. To constantly project herself into something that wasn’t entirely her. She knew what that was like.

Whenever she operated behind the eyes of her clones, she never truly felt herself. It was like working in a box, a box where you could never see quite right or hear the same. Even food tasted off. But to do it without a moment to take a step back into her own mind could have driven her to insanity.

Maybe that was what triggered this. She had been torturing herself for so long. And for what? What was the purpose of this? It didn’t make any sense and frankly, it pissed (Y/N) off. Because she knew that no version of herself would ever do this to their own mind. She had to have been forced to do this.

And (Y/N) only had one idea of who it could have been.

She needed to tell her family. She needed to tell Ben and Sloane. With a shaky inhale, she gently closed her double’s eyelids and left the room, the door closing behind her. (Y/N) shut her eyes to force her tears back, the quiet sob escaping through her lips failing her. At this point, she was barely holding herself together. What she had witnessed back-to-back in such a short amount of time had her head reeling and her body stumbling into walls as she hurried to the elevator.

When the doors opened, (Y/N) slowly stepped out. In the room before her, she saw her family all talking to each other. Sloane and Luther looked to be passing around something, everyone staring at the items in curiosity once they got one. She had a fleeting thought that wondered what it was, but it went away as soon as she set her sights on the person standing beside Klaus in the room.

Sir Reginald Hargreeves.

“You!”

Everyone turned to the source of the scream, their eyes widening at their sister, covered in blood and rushing up to them with a savage look in her eyes, the fire within them crackling and snapping the closer she got. Sloane held out whatever item she had to the girl, but she ignored it and headed straight for Reginald. Before anyone could do or say anything, (Y/N) landed a blinding right hook to his face. Gasps rang throughout the room as he stumbled, Klaus holding him upright.

Five wrapped both arms around her middle as he pulled her back. She didn’t even budge as her eyes glued themselves to the man who called himself her father, holding his cheek as he stared at her in complete and utter shock.

“HOW COULD YOU?!” She wildly thrashed against Five’s hold. “HOW COULD YOU?!”

Diego ran up to her and helped his brother hold her back when she almost freed herself. “(Y/N). (Y/N), calm down-”

“YOU TORTURED YOUR FUCKING DAUGHTER?! YOU FUCK- YOU FUCKING LOCKED HER UP?!” She continued to holler her lungs out as Reginald straightened himself. “YOU FORCED HER TO PROJECT CLONE AFTER CLONE AFTER CLONE?!”

“(Y/N)-”

“YOU BUILT HER A FUCKING PANIC ROOM TO KILL HERSELF IN?! WHAT THE FUCK?!”

Reginald slowly shook his head and reached a hand out. “You must understand, my child. She was severely-”

“I’M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU!”

(Y/N) broke out of their hold and rushed up to him. Her hand swiped at him and she managed to slash her manicured fingernails across his cheek before Diego and Five grabbed her again, forcing her to the ground.

“No!!! Let me go! Let me go!!!”

Diego snapped his head up. “Klaus, get him out of here!”

“Right.” Klaus nodded and grabbed hold of Reginald’s arm, dragging him out of the room. “Luther, Sloane. Oh, my god. I’m beyond thrilled. You guys are gorgeous. Amazing. Send me your registry!”

As soon as they were gone, Diego and Five let go of (Y/N), allowing her to slump over, her brows touching the floor as she tried to bring herself back. She was losing it. She was slipping, she could feel it. Her grief and her anger were boiling over and she couldn’t keep up with it all.

(Y/N) felt all eyes on her as a hand rubbed her back. She quietly sobbed into her hands, a crumpled mess on the ground as they all glanced at each other, wondering what to do. None of them had ever seen her go off like that. She was always the calm and collected one. No one could have angered her to such a degree.

Five reached down and tilted her head up, cradling her bloodied face in his hands. His thumbs swiped her tears away, smearing some blood along with it, but he couldn’t stand to see her cry. Her eyes were so distant, stuck in whatever moment it was that broke her. Her shoulders shook with the force of the sobs building up in her.

“Come on,” He whispered, helping his wife to her feet. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

(Y/N) dragged her feet across the carpet as she let Five lead her out of the room. She couldn’t bear the looks she received. Her family looked so frightened of her. She had never done anything like this, she had never gotten that angry. Now that she finally did and now that everyone saw it, she felt even worse for not biting her tongue.

She turned her head to Sloane, who was still frozen in her spot, the item she was trying to give her still in her hand. (Y/N) gently took it from her, her hand gently cradling the small jar in her palm. It was beautifully decorated with some kind of stuffing inside. Behind the small tissue paper bows was beautiful calligraphy inviting her to a wedding. A wedding for Sloane and Luther.

She was so happy for them.

“Congratulations.” She cried before walking away with Five.

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

“Am I gonna die?”

(Y/N) shut her eyes tighter, wanting to squint the image out of her head.

“I-Is it gonna hurt…?”

Her heart slammed in her chest with the hammering beats.

“I love you, little sister.”

A voice above called to her. “Come back now.”

“You were the best part of me.”

“Come back up, (Y/N).”

Two hands assisted her out of the water and in an upright position in the tub. The water she sat in was red with the blood washed away from her skin, but she didn’t mind. She was glad to have it off of her. She didn’t speak for awhile as she let Five continue to scrub her skin in the otherwise silent spa. No one else was in there since everyone else on earth had been wiped out. Five had forbidden anyone from entering while he was taking care of her.

“You wanna talk about it?” He asked, slicking her hair back.

She shook her head.

“Okay,” He nodded and went back to cleaning her. “That was some shot you took at Dad. I think you’re the first out of all of us to do something like that.”

“He deserved it,” She rasped, eyes remaining on the sloshing water. “He forced her into insanity. She was… She was living her life through something that looked like her, but would never truly be her. And when she was back, she didn’t even wanna be here. As soon as I gave her the chance, she-”

Five stopped and leaned his head against hers and she broke out into sobs, gently running his hand up and down her bare back. He let her air out her emotions for a while as he placed gentle kisses to her shoulder. Other than that, he didn’t know what else to do. He wished he could just snap his fingers and fix everything, but he knew more than anyone that it took more than wishful thinking to fix a broken soul.

“I know… I know.” He whispered into her ear. “I know it sounds off-putting, but you need to let yourself relax. You’ve been through a lot in a short amount of time. Maybe the wedding will… take your mind off of it. Just for a bit.”

He was trying to find a silver lining. She always did it for him, it was the very least he could do for her. As Five began washing her hair in order to get all the blood out, his heart broke at her quiet cries. (Y/N) didn’t deserve any of this, and he wanted nothing more than to take all of her problems away. She just needed someone to talk to. He knew she was no good on her own in a time of distress.

“Maybe I should stay with you until the wedding.”

“No, no.” She looked up, gently wrapping a hand around his wrist. “Go to the bachelor party. Luther needs support.”

“Are you sure? You’ll be okay?”

She nodded. “I can even go and help Sloane. I know how nerve-wracking a wedding can be for the bride, and she doesn’t have any of her sisters. She needs someone with her.”

Five gently kissed her cheek, in awe at her kindness to others even in her worst moments. He constantly questioned himself with how he got so lucky. Once she was all clean, he carefully stood her up and wrapped one of the hotel’s robes around her body, leading her out of the spa.

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

Within another room sat Sloane in a silk robe, quietly sewing up her wedding dress. She didn’t mind the solitude, it was what she was used to growing up. Though, she had wished she could share this moment with her sisters. It was what any other bride would do. But there weren’t any other brides left in the world, one of the many things that made her different from the rest of them.

Suddenly, Ben walked into the room, heading straight for the sink in the corner. “So, it’s official. My ears are broken, and the idiot with the knives really can’t sing.”

“Diego. You know his name is Diego.”

“Oh, whatever.” He sighed and walked about the room as Sloane continued with her task.

“Maybe you should try and bce nice to him and the others.”

“And why would I do that?”

She looked up at him. “As much as I’d love to work out your anger issues right now, I have to get back to this. The wedding is in an hour.”

Ben narrowed his eyes at her. “Fei is dead.”

“Yeah. I know. And so are the others.”

“Oh, so that’s it? What about (Y/N), huh? What about her?!”

Sloane’s heart shattered at the crack in Ben’s voice and at the mention of her sister. In all honesty, that was all she had been thinking about besides the wedding. “I loved (Y/N), Ben. Just as much as you did. Just as much as you still do.”

“It doesn’t look like it. You’re turning your back on the Sparrow Academy. I mean, you heard Dad. We have training to do. Something big is about to go down.”

“I wish you were talking about my wedding.”

Ben sharply inhaled and walked up to his sister, sitting down across from her. “Sloane, listen to me-”

“No,” She placed both her hands over his. “You listen to me. I’m sorry they didn’t invite you to the bachelor party.”

He scoffed and shook his head. “I don’t… I don’t care about that.”

“Yes, you do.” She spoke a little softer. “You care more about being invited to the bachelor party than you do Fei or the others. Maybe not more than (Y/N), but more than saving the world.”

Ben nervously chuckled as he tried to form a lie out of his mouth, a lie that would convince both her and himself. “That… That’s… That’s crazy.”

“Is it? You and I, we’ve never been alone. It’s always been the eight of us. Now it’s just you. So, congratulations, Ben. You’re finally Number One… of one.”

His eyes didn’t stray away from the chair she stood from, making her way over to the vanity on the other side of the room. “I’m a Sparrow, and so are you.”

“Not anymore.”

At that, he stood. “What’s so damn special about them, anyway?”

She turned to him. “They’re a real family. They don’t exist to sell action figures and tote bags.”

“We were more than that.”

“Were we?” She watched as his face fell. “Why is it so important for you to be a Sparrow?”

Ben turned and walked out of the room, but just before he was gone, he muttered something Sloane almost missed.

“Because I have nothing else.”

Once again, she was left alone to contemplate. Now she really wished someone were here with her. As if on cue, there was a very quiet knock on the door followed by an equally quiet voice. “Delivery for the bride.”

“You can come in.”

(Y/N) stepped inside, still in her robe, but with a small stereo in one hand and two wine glasses in the other, a bottle of wine tucked into her arm. When Sloane turned to her, she smiled in appreciation and fondness. “Uh- The guys are having a party, so why can’t the girls, right?” She tried a smile.

Sloane nodded with a giggle and went to help her, taking the glasses and stereo from her. After setting everything down, (Y/N) turned the stereo on to play jazz music. She quietly filled their glasses and handed one to Sloane, who gladly accepted it. A sort of awkward silence settled between them as (Y/N) watched Sloane work on her dress. She was trying. She was trying to keep it together, trying to keep herself busy so she wouldn’t have to think about-

“Thank you for being with her… when it happened…”

(Y/N) cringed inwardly and nodded. “I… I wish I knew it was going to happen. So, I could’ve saved her.”

Sloane looked away. “How… did it all happen?”

She shut her eyes.

“I’m sorry. You don’t have to talk about it.”

She shook her head. “N-No, I need to. Plus, you deserve to know,” She opened her eyes, noticing that Sloane was having a bit of trouble with the needle, so she reached over and took it into her hand, fixing it for her as she thought of what to say. Mentioning the gruesome death of the clone was unnecessary, so she skipped over that entire ordeal. “She was scared. She didn’t understand anything. All she’s known is a… a trance, and an occasional meal. She wanted out.”

Sloane sniffled at the thought of her sister in such a whiplash state of mind. She felt so guilty, even in her last moments, they weren’t there for her like they should’ve been. Just as a tear fell from her eye, (Y/N) reached out and wiped it away with a soft smile.

“Hey… I know what it’s like to lose a sibling. I lost my Ben in my timeline and… we all blamed ourselves for so long. Luckily for me, I had a seance of a brother and was able to talk to him, but it was never the same. He always told me that it wasn’t my fault, that he was just happy to see me. I’m sure, if we could see her right now, she’d just be happy to see you.”

“You really think so? After everything?”

“Of course, Sloane. She loved all of you so much… She’d do anything for you. She’d be in this seat, drinking wine and listening to slow jazz with you before your wedding. And she’d be so proud of you.”

Sloane smiled and giggled with a smile, more tears rushing down her face. “I hope she forgave me. I love her so much…”

“She loves you, too. I promise,” (Y/N) leaned away and let Sloane continue as she lifted her glass to her lips. “You know, I was married before Five. My wedding day was so special to me… I’m happy you get to feel this, too.”

With a grin, Sloane took a sip of her wine. “It’s been one hell of a ride to get here.”

“Tell me about it. I still can’t believe this is happening to Luther.” (Y/N) chuckled. “You know, growing up, I wasn’t the biggest fan of him.”

“Really?”

“Oh, yeah. Couldn’t stand him. I mean, he was One and I was Eight. We were raised to compete against each other the most. Then it followed us into adulthood.”

“I’m so sorry…”

(Y/N) waved it off. “It’s alright. We’re much better now. We went through too much to let bullshit parenting affect us. I’d take a blade to the chest for him, no hesitation, which is something I’d never say as a kid… Anyway, I’m proud of him for finding someone like you. You guys deserve each other.”

Sloane stood from her seat and pulled (Y/N) with her, bringing her into a tight hug. She reciprocated the affection, her heart warming. As Sloane got dressed, (Y/N) put her bouquet together. It wasn’t anything grand, but they didn’t need grand. They were making the best of what they had.

An idea sparking, she let her fingers graze the stem of the flower, pulling up another one from it. Thank you, (Y/N), she thought as she continued the process with every other flower until there was a much bigger bouquet to put together. Finishing up, she set the beautiful and bountiful bouquet back down before getting ready herself.

She found it ironic that her dress was red. She had just rid herself of the dreadful color from her skin and her hair. The dress was the only one she could find on short notice that was her size and fit their “creative black tie” dress code. It was beautiful, nonetheless, velvet and tea length with a v-neckline and no sleeves. Something to make her feel gorgeous without pulling out all the stops. After applying a bit of makeup, she picked up the flowers and walked up to Sloane.

“You look amazing.” The girl softly smiled. Sloane grinned and turned to her. It was true, Sloane looked stunning. Her dress was nothing grand, but she still managed to look like an angel in it.

“Thank you. And you look beautiful,” She tilted her head. “Is that… her bracelet?”

(Y/N) placed a hand over the white beaded bracelet she had kept and handed the bouquet to Sloane. “Y-Yeah… It has no effect on me, and it’s the only thing of her I have left.”

At Sloane’s sorrowful smile, (Y/N) pulled a duplicate from the bracelet and gently put it on the woman’s wrist. “There. So we can both have a piece of her.”

The two of them clasped hands, smiling warmly at each other. Sloane’s heart was so full. This (Y/N) reminded her so much of her own in ways that she hadn’t even thought of. Past all her sister’s flaws was just someone who loved her family. A family that would never admit they loved her as well. That was one of the differences between the two (Y/N)s. One was loved and the other wasn’t. It was how they turned out to be completely different people, but the parts that mattered were the constant in her.

“Thank you for everything, (Y/N).” She whispered with teary eyes. “You’ve done more than I could have ever asked you for. I know it’s last minute, but I would be… so honored… if you would stand with me as my maid of honor.”

(Y/N)’s smile widened as she nodded. “I would be honored to be your maid of honor.”

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

The elevator doors opened, revealing the decorated banquet hall. The tables and chairs set up were enough to seat a much larger wedding, the lights gave the room a lively glow and the chandeliers above were such an odd contrast to the disco ball hanging above the dancefloor the tables surrounded. Everyone stepped into the room, some in awe and some indifferent, but all in very nice attire.

“Not sure this place is gonna be big enough.” Klaus sarcastically spoke.

“This better be an open bar.” Allison sighed out.

Lila encouragingly smiled at her. “Hey, come on. It’s for Luther. Let’s perk up.” She turned to get a better look at the room, voicing her astonishment. The ding of the elevator sounded, Luther and Viktor walking out, the former fretting over his appearance.

“I don’t know. Normally, my tush looks good.”

“No, it’s-”

“Ah,” Allison’s tone dripped with sarcasm as soon as Viktor neared her vicinity. “I see you’ve gone for the oversized button-down. Original.”

Viktor was quick to retort. “You do realize there’s no paparazzi here, right?”

“What? Dang it.”

Luther shushed them, interrupting their small argument. “Listen to me, you two. This is my day, alright? So, if you two can just get along for a couple of hours, you can consider that my wedding gift.”

“Well, he started it, so-”

“You literally just started it-”

“Bah, bah, bah!” He shushed them again. “My day. Two hours. Do you think you can manage that?”

Just as they agreed, the elevator dinged again, the doors opening to reveal Sloane, arm-in-arm with (Y/N). All eyes were on the bride, staring in amazement, Luther’s stare full of every ingredient for an unconditional love. The only one looking at (Y/N) was Five, matching his brother’s love-sick expression. Ben rolled his eyes at the scene.

“Let’s get this over with before I die of cringe.”

—————————————

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