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deadsetobsessions · 1 year ago

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He could overlook a lot of things, but this was getting ridiculous. You’d think seasoned vigilantes would have better excuses prepared, but Danny had caught that flash of panic that crossed Tim’s face as Danny came face to face with Tim dragging an unconscious Steph to her designated room in the manor.

“Uh.”

“Danny! Uh, Stephanie brained herself- uh, sliding down the bannisters and- pleasedon’ttellBruce.”

Danny blinks, staring at Tim and then very pointedly, very slowly, turned his head back towards the direction he came from: the main hall… where the bannisters were. He wonders what vigilante hijinks they were trying to hide from B this time.

Tim coughs, trying to inch Stephanie away. “Uh. She was doing… cartwheels?”

Danny let his eyes slowly take in the bruises that were clearly not from “cartwheeling in the mansion” on the both of them. There’s a huge bandaged cut on Steph’s forearm and a giant bruise on the edge of Tim’s jaw. Tim’s face twitches nervously, not that anyone else would have noticed- except Danny has enhanced ghost senses and could feel the panic coming off of his adopted brother.

“You know…” Shit, what does he do? Not knowing would be so much easier if these idiots gave him good excuses! “I don’t think I want to know what you two have been up to… but should I be worried for your, uh, physical health?”

“Nope!”

“… Okay.” He says. Tim opens his mouth to make further excuses but Danny adds quickly, “But don’t tell me, because if Bruce asks, I want plausible deniability.”

Cartwheels, Danny’s ghostly ass. Luckily, this show of doubt reaffirms Tim’s belief that Danny believes them all of the other times. Danny grins inwardly, planning capitalizing on the guilt that flashed over Tim’s face.

“Deal.”

“Want help?” The halfa points at Steph, who’s still being dragged over the carpet by a noodle armed Tim. Danny knows Tim’s strong, he’s a vigilante, but it’s funny watching him pretend to struggle.

“Please. I’m so tired right now.” He looks it too. Danny’s brows furrow with genuine concern when he takes in Tim’s drowned raccoon look. He picks up Steph, firmly removing her from Tim’s suddenly weak grip. Being careful to avoid her injuries, Danny nods at the door to her room. Tim cracks it open and does a little showy gesture towards the inside.

“C’mon, we’ll tuck her in and then I’ll tuck you in.”

“What, you don’t have to do that.”

“If you don’t let me tuck you in and make sure you sleep, I’ll tell Alfred who really accidentally poured boiling hot coffee on his azaleas last week. And I’ll sic Dick on you and tell him you haven’t been sleeping enough.”

“You drive a hard bargain,” Tim grumbles. “But fine. It’s really not my fault I’m this tired. A missing spleen is hard to handle, you know.”

“Yeah, missing an organ sucks,” Danny says, shit eating grin hidden long enough to catch the contemplative bloodhound look that passes over Tim’s face.

“Which- uh, which one of your organs is missing?”

“Liver.” Danny says, remembering the flashes of pain. He tilts his head away to hide the grin at Tim’s panicked face.

When he tucks Tim in, he pretends to believe Tim’s sleeping act and left his room while mumbling about the Wayne’s clumsiness and bruises and stocking up on bruise cream. He couldn’t even enjoy Tim’s floundering, this time, worried as he is.

——

“Brother.” Danny half turns his head, just to beam a sunny smile at Cass. He signs an exuberant hello. The halfa hangs up his coat as he addresses his adopted sister.

“Cass! What’s up?”

“Dinner.” She smiles back, signing that Alfred wanted them to the dinning room post haste. The main dining room, because rich people were fruit loops and Batman is totally included. Cassandra looks down and gasps.

What…?

Oh. Fuck. Danny glances down. He genuinely forgot about that.

“Huh.”

“Okay?” Suddenly, Cass is right next to him, hand reached out and hovering over the actual knife Danny forgot was sticking out of him. At least it’s where his liver should be, so he won’t have to pretend.

“Oh. Yeah, I’m good. Don’t have a liver.” Danny decides on the spot that he’s not gonna mess with Cass. She smiled the same as him. “Got mugged on the way back but I think they said I could keep the knife, right?”

“Danny.” She’s frowning at him. He feels like he just kicked tiny Cujo. But he doesn’t feel bad enough to blurt everything out.

“Here. You can have it if you want?” Danny casually pulls out the knife and holds the wound together with his bare hands. Cass looks more alarmed. She bodily picks up Danny and starts running.

“Woah!”

Cass throws him at Alfred, gently.

“Miss Cassandra! Why, I never-!” Alfred pauses in surprise.

“Uh. Wow, Cass. You’re really strong.” Danny pipes up, hand still over his gushing wound.

She ignores him, pointing at Danny and telling Alfred, “Hurt. Got mugged. Dumb.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault Gothamites are ready to jump people at any moment. Besides, it’s daytime. It’s not like the vigilante furries are out to save my butt. I think I did really well coming back safe, you know?”

“Hurt. Forgot the knife. Was in him.”

“Master Danny!”

Danny pouts. He also knows there’s a discreet camera in the corners of the sitting room, so he’s definitely hoping he could phase into the cave when Barbara eventually tells the group that he called them “vigilante furries.”

Alfred clucks his tongue and set to work patching him up. Danny tries not to bask in the careful way Alfred tended to his wounds. It reminds him too much of Jazz, if Jazz was British and a man with greying hair.

But because they were watching him and he was watching them in return, Danny noticed the moment Alfred’s hands stalled and Cass’ gaze got intense. What now…?

Oh, fuck, his vivisection scar. Oops. Danny smiled, channeling Dani (his lovely clone sister) at her most innocent.

Cass smiled back, just as sunnily, fists tightening at her side in repressed fury.

——

“Cass? Why’d you call us?”

“Yeah, baby bat. I got a couple o’ smugglers to talk to.”

Cass paces.

“What is it, Cassandra?” Damian tuts impatiently.

“Danny. Has… scars. Autopsy. But was struggling. When cut.”

“What.”

“A vivisection, Master Jason.” Alfred’s voice was crisp and eerily cold. His hands are folded, rage only held back by his sheer will and a well practiced sense of propriety.

“We find. Who hurt him,” Cass snarls. “We. End.”

Jason’s eyes glint green, hands going to his guns. “Fine. By. Me.”

“It does tie in with the dead comment. I wonder what happened to him.” Tim clacks away at the bat computer, furiously looking into the matter already. Bruce has taken to prowling, stressed out at the prospect of one more of his children- not a vigilante at that- getting hurt the way Jason had. Worse, even. A vivisection. He was alive, dissected. Aware enough to struggle. Dick looked like he was torn about hunting down and lunging at whoever hurt Danny to rip their throats out with his bare teeth versus the urge to go back up to the manor and wrap Danny in bubble wrap.

In the corner, Danny was having a quiet breakdown because he came here to watch them react to vigilante furries, not offering to murder the people who vivisected him. What the fuck?? He ran his hands through his hair, invisible.

——

“Oh, by the way, we should consider more daytime shifts.”

“Why?” Spoiler asks Barbara.

“Danny got mugged. And called us the nightly furries.”

“The fuckin’ what-?” Jason chokes out, laughing. Bruce stops his pacing, body language becoming slightly offended.

Danny muffles a laugh only Alfred would have heard.

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aww-canon-no · 2 years ago

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Steddie (Deaf Steve) Pt 2

You asked, so I’m here to give you more. This time from Eddie’s POV.

First kiss, sequel to Shoot Your Shot.

***

Soon Enough

Rated: T

Steve/Eddie

Modern AU, first kisses, Deaf Steve, ASL

(Content warnings: mentions of childhood neglect/abuse)

Eddie has never, ever once believed in conformity. And he’s not about to start now.

(Eddie’s ASL fuck-up is translated in notes at bottom of this fic)

***

Eddie Munson’s life has always been…difficult, to say the least. Born under a bad sign, Wayne liked to call it, but in a kind of affectionate way. The way where he’s holding small Eddie who can’t stop crying and wondering why all the other kids in his class have really nice parents who buy them things and, you know, feed them.

Wayne stepped in when he could. He never failed to show up with food and threats against his brother when he heard Eddie’s tiny, broken voice on the other end of the phone because his dad was too drunk or too high to feed him. Eventually they struck a deal. Eddie’s parents disappeared after signing some scary looking paperwork, and Eddie got to pack all his things and move to Wayne’s trailer which was small compared to where his classmates all lived, but nice.

So nice.

Like washing machine and running water nice.

He won’t have to be the smelly kid in class anymore.

He just didn’t realize how reputations clung in small towns.

So suffice it to say that Eddie abhors difficult things—including difficult people. It’s why, when his little lambs started going on and on and fucking ON about their cool, badass older friend Steve who used to date Nancy, Eddie was determined to never meet him.

It wasn’t just the jealousy.

It was that Steve communicated on a whole other level. Literally. He was Deaf. He went to the Deaf school that wasn’t anywhere near Hawkins and he knew no one, but somehow Steve and his perfect fucking hair was still popular amongst people who weren’t freaked out by the whole, he can’t hear shit, thing.

Yeah, it definitely wasn’t jealousy.

It was the fact that Steve was complicated and he used a whole separate language and Eddie just…had no plans to involve himself in that.

Never mind the kids were over the goddamn moon about being able to know ASL. They communicated with it during campaigns whenever they didn’t want Eddie to know their plans, and—although Eddie actually did look up stuff online about Deaf people (all that stuff about capital D and lowercase d and the community and culture was all very overwhelming) he was pretty sure his little lambs were technically not allowed to make up sign names for all the creatures in their guides.

But they did it anyway and who was Eddie to stop them.

He ended up picking up a few things by osmosis, whether he liked it or not.

But he was determined, damn it. He existed over here, Steve existed over there, and they all lived happily ever after.

Until the afternoon he walked into Scoops Ahoy.

***

Eddie had actually gone in to bother Robin. They were sort of outcast friends. Two freaky little gays at Hawkins High, though she was younger than him and had absolutely no interest in DnD, but they had a shared trauma bond of bullies and bullshit.

He came to a stop when he saw the absurdly good looking guy at the counter who was staring at him in ways no one had ever stared at Eddie. The way that said he had no idea who Eddie was and it was always great to have a fresh start like that.

Then Eddie fucked up by not reading his badge and realizing exactly who was there.

And like Dustin had once predicted, the second he met Steve’s eyes, he was a gonner. There was no resisting him.

He was smitten and the hole was too deep for him to claw his way out of.

He went home and looked up a bunch of videos that seemed suspect as fuck, so in the end he called Dustin who showed up at Eddie’s trailer with an arsenal of websites.

“Can’t you just get me, like, a book or something?” Eddie had asked, feeling intimated and overwhelmed and already kind of tired.

Dustin had given him the bitchiest bitch face that ever bitched. “You can’t learn ASL from a book, numbnuts.” Then his hands twisted into the complicated shapes—all fast the way Dustin kept bragging about—and Eddie assumed he was repeating most of what he’d just said.

Eddie damn-well knew that if he actually wanted Steve to say yes to him, he was absolutely going to have to learn because while the kids said Steve could speak, he hated doing it. And Eddie was the kind of guy who had been rebelling against forced conformity his entire life.

So yeah, he’d rather die than put that choice to Steve.

He learned enough to feel confident going back to the mall. And Robin was once again playing the long game with Vickie who would literally drag Robin into the cleaning closet and rock her world if Robin only asked—but he knew she wouldn’t. But it left the perfect opening for Eddie who walked up to the counter, panicked, and immediately forgot everything he’d learned about ASL in the time he’d been away from Steve’s ice cream counter.

In the end, he remembered a little, then tried to backtrack and tell Steve he’d ask him out when he was a little more fluent.

Which made Steve laugh, and Eddie wouldn’t find out until much later that it took at least seven years of immersion to become fluent so…

Yeah it was kind of hilarious.

For Steve.

Mortifying for Eddie.

The blow was softened when Steve touched him—like actually touched him without reservation or hesitation. And then he told Eddie he didn’t want him to wait. Eddie was fine as he was—that patience with his language could be a thing and Jesus H Christ Eddie was pretty sure he could die right then.

Except if he died he wouldn’t get the chance to touch Steve back, and kiss him, and make him laugh, and make him make other noises and Jesus H Christ he wanted that so bad he could taste it. Because he’d been avoiding Steve for what felt like half his new adult life but he was head over heels smitten in two visits to the ice cream shop.

And he didn’t even like ice cream.

He was lactose intolerant for fuck’s sake.

Anyway, he got Steve’s number and he didn’t wait to text.

But the date did.

They planned for the movies and then…

Wayne got hurt at the plant. He ended up being fine, but it scared the absolute fuck out of Eddie who staying at the hospital until his back hurt from the small chair, and his phone was dead, and he felt like passing out.

The nurses had to kick him out, and Eddie walked out of the room in a fog, and stumbled into the downstairs lobby where he came to an abrupt halt at the sight of a familiar, gorgeous head of hair. Steve was facing away from him with big headphones on, bobbing his head to…music?

Eddie totally didn’t get it, but he couldn’t help himself from walking over and laying a hand on Steve’s shoulder. He felt like shit when Steve jumped half a foot off the chair, but then his face broke out into a soft, sympathetic smile.

‘Hi.’ It was a simple enough sign that Eddie didn’t have to try for that one. ‘You OK?’ He signed slow, mouthing the words.

Eddie swallowed heavily, then shrugged. His fingers felt a little stiff and he wasn’t sure he had the emotional capacity to take embarrassing himself by getting signs wrong no matter how frantically he’d been practicing since the day at the mall.

Steve’s face fell a little more, and Eddie was pretty sure he’d never seen anyone look so…so soft at him before. He walked around the benches toward Eddie, then yanked him into a hug. It was so unexpected that Eddie just…melted. His head pressed against Steve’s headphones which were blaring with music, and Eddie had about a thousand questions but instead he just lost himself in the way that Steve hugged.

It was…a lot.

Of course, it was mostly that Eddie just never, ever got hugged and all the touching he did was imitated by himself and almost never returned, but that was a different trauma for a different day.

For now he just let himself have this. Have Steve. Have the body pressed to his and voiceless permission to kind of shake apart after holding it together for hours, and hours, and hours.

When he pulled back, Steve gave him a cautious smile and Eddie reached up, tapping Steve’s headphones.

‘Hurt?’ Eddie asked. ‘Loud?’

Steve frowned, then rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone, turning off his music before pulling them back and draping them around his neck. He shook his head and shrugged. ‘Can’t…hear?’ Eddie was pretty sure that was the sign for hear. Not hearing, which was a little finger twirl under the bottom lip. ‘Not hurt Feel it.’

Eddie nodded and shoved his hands into his pockets before remembering—oh shit, I need those to like, talk to Steve, and pulled them out again.

Steve laughed—but he was maybe one of the only people in the world who didn’t seem like he was laughing at Eddie, and wow what a goddamn novelty that was.

Steve tapped his arm and Eddie looked up at him as Steve curled his hand into a C-shape and dragged it down his throat. ‘Hungry-you?’

He was starved. He mimicked the sign and remembered the lesson he learned online where he had to exaggerate the sign if he wanted to emphasize what he was saying. So he ran his C-hand over his throat a few times, then added, ‘Eat, before, work.’ He met his left wrist with his right wrist once with heavy force. He knew that wasn’t right but maybe it was close enough?

Except Steve was suddenly all red in the face and making a choking sound. Eddie took a step back, but Steve reached out and snagged his arm before he could get too far, shaking his head.

Eddie was pretty sure he was supposed to be mortified but right then he was mostly curious and uh…yeah. Steve was touching him again so that was good.

Steve touched the underside of Eddie’s chin and he made an embarrassing noise which Steve must have felt because his grin twitched a little wider. Then he shook his head.

‘H U N G R Y,’ he spelled very slowly. He repeated his sign, then added, ‘S T A R V I N G?’ He made a little question mark motion with his finger. It was weirdly cute, and Eddie didn’t describe things as cute very often.

He nodded. Yeah. He’d been trying to say starving.

Steve made a noisy sort of huffing sound with some rumble behind it, then squared his shoulders and nodded before raising his right hand. His left signed, ‘Watch.’

Eddie nodded.

Steve made an exaggerated face and dragged his C-hand down his throat with more force. ‘Ok?’

Eddie nodded. Okay, yeah. He could do that.

Steve wasn’t done. ‘W O R K?’

Eddie smiled and nodded his fist. ‘Yes.’

Steve tapped the inside of his right wrist against the back of his left wrist. ‘Work,’ he signed.

Eddie repeated the sign, and Steve nodded, giving him an enthusiastic thumb’s up.

‘Now- go-you-me.’ Steve signed—Eddie was...pretty sure? God he needed to practice more.

But he answered Steve with a happy, ‘OK,’ and didn’t mind at all when Steve took his hand.

Until suddenly he did mind because…

He dragged Steve to a halt and cleared his throat, pulling out his phone with his free hand and typing as fast as he could, ‘What did I say? Before? What did I fuck up?’

Steve’s eyes got wide and he waved him off, but Eddie tugged on him until Steve let out a small groan, snatched the phone, and began to type. Eddie had not one single qualm about reading over his shoulder, and in about five seconds, he wanted the earth to swallow him whole.

“I signed what?” he demanded aloud, forgetting himself entirely.

Steve looked over his shoulder, his face kind of…different. Confused? Full of pity at how fucking pathetic Eddie was? Embarrassed to know him?

Was he…

Eddie’s thoughts came to a sudden, screeching halt when Steve cradled his face between his hands. He leaned forward until his lips were practically brushing Eddie’s ear and he whispered aloud, “I’d be happy to fix that problem too.”

Eddie was already pretty sure spontaneous combustion was a thing, and now he was about to be living proof because oh my GOD. Oh my... god oh my god oh my…

Steve dragged a thumb over Eddie’s lower lip, then raised his brows like he was asking, ‘Is this okay?’

Eddie nodded frantically and Steve began walking him backward until his back suddenly hit…oh. It was a tree. The bark was sharp against his bare elbow, but all of that ceased to matter the second Steve’s lips touched his. It wasn’t a wild, desperate kiss of star-crossed lovers in the books Eddie secretly read.

No, it was soft. It was gentle.

It was warm and it was fucking needy as hell but it was also the first kiss in a line of what Eddie was determined to have as many, many, many as he could. As many as Steve would allow.

For the rest of their lives, God help them both.

Steve gently licked into Eddie’s mouth before finally pulling away, and the stress of Wayne being hurt and then him thoroughly embarrassing himself, he wasn’t hard or anything, but there was definitely a sort of humming desire under his skin which were as warm as his hands were because they...

Oh.

He looked down and realized that he’d rucked up Steve’s shirt and was digging his fingers into Steve’s bare hips. ‘Sorry,’ he signed, dislodging one hand.

Steve laughed—a quiet huff mostly through his nose, and he shook his head before stealing a last kiss. Eddie wanted to chase it, but he forced himself to keep his back to the tree as Steve dug into his pocket for his phone again.

‘For now,” he wiggled his phone. ‘Until we can spend more time together and I can teach you more,’ Steve typed out.

Eddie swallowed heavily, then nodded. ‘Why are you here?’

Steve frowned like he was confused why Eddie would even ask that. ‘Dustin said your uncle was hurt. I didn’t want you to be alone when they kicked you out.’

Those words, that simple fucking act of kindness, was almost too much. The emotions overwhelmed him and he wanted to laugh, and cry, and scream, and fucking sing until his throat seized up and he lost his voice.

He stared at the phone screen until Steve dragged a tender touch across the top of his hand, and he looked up.

‘Come home with me tonight. Sleep,’ Steve typed before shoving his phone back into his pocket without waiting for Eddie’s answer. He knew he should probably say no because they hadn’t even had their date yet, but then again, Eddie had never been conventional.

Never would be conventional.

He rubbed a flat palm over his chest. ‘Please.’

Steve’s eyes darkened, just for a second. Eddie panicked before he realized that no, he’d gotten the sign just right. Steve was just maybe thinking of other ways Eddie might use that sign and…yeah.

Shit yeah.

Maybe not now. Not tonight. Not even very soon.

But soon enough.

Steve linked their fingers together and tugged…

And Eddie followed.

***

(Eddie’s ASL fuck-up. Common mistake in ASL- Hungry=Horny. Work=Fuck. Steve is kind of okay with that idea too lol)

#Steddie #Steve Harrington #Deaf Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #modern AU #Stranger Things #dustin henderson #steve x eddie

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corroded-hellfire · 2 years ago

Note

The year is 1986. Eddie is in danger of not graduating (again). Reader is his girlfriend, and she’s tired of him not taking his future seriously, so she breaks up with him. He finally decides to get his sh*t together and buckles down. But is it too late? Will he graduate? Will the love of his life take him back? Up to you, bb!

xoxoxoxo, @munson-blurbs 💚💚 PS ily

Anything for you, my love! I hope you enjoy the way I broke Eddie’s heart. It hurt me more than it did him. ily2💚

Words: 5.2k

“Eddie, we’ve got to study,” you say. He’s kneeling behind you on his bed, pressing soft kisses along the back of your neck as you try to focus on the textbook laying open in your lap.

“How am I supposed to concentrate, hmm? With you sitting on my bed, looking so beautiful,” Eddie says against your skin.

“Okay,” you say, letting your book thump onto his sheets. “I’m gonna quiz you on stuff that’ll be on our finals. For every right answer, I’ll take off a piece of clothing. For every wrong answer, it’s an extra fifteen minutes of study time.”

“Fire away, baby.” Eddie lounges back against his wall and tucks his hands behind his head, a sinful smirk on his lips.

“Let’s start with English,” you say as you shift on the bed to face him. “What two Shakespeare plays are written entirely in verse?”

Eddie purses his lips, eyes searching his bedroom ceiling as if the answers were written across it in big bold letters. “Hamlet and…McBeth?”

“King John and Richard II,” you say with a sigh. Eddie groans and lets his hands fall down to his lap.

“Ehh, shit,” Eddie says. “But just because it had two answers doesn’t mean that’s half an hour of study time! That was one question, so only one fifteen-minute addition.”

“Fine,” you say, silently knowing this is all in vain anyway. Eddie’s been caring less and less about school lately, to the point where you’re afraid he’s going to fail senior year for the third time. “We’ll move onto biology.”

“Take your clothes off and I’ll give you a biology lesson.”

“Eddie,” you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Fine, fine, sorry. Go on.”

“What part of the brain deals with balance and coordination?”

One of his dark brown eyes squeezes closed and he tilts his head from side to side as if he’s deliberating what he wants for dinner.

“The left part. No, wait, that’s a joke! I’m kidding, I’m kidding! Um…the frontal lobe?” Eddie winces, knowing that this was just a wild guess—it was the first part of the brain he could think of.

“The cerebellum,” you say.

“Okay,” Eddie says, nodding his head. “I’ll remember that. The cerebrum controls balance and coordination.”

“The cerebellum,” you correct.

Eddie groans, rolling the tension out of his neck before letting his head thump back against the wall.

“Come on, hit me again.”

“Last one,” you say as you adjust your legs tucked underneath you. “History this time. What city was the first capital of the United States?”

“I know it wasn’t DC,” Eddie says, pointing his finger at you. “Hmm, what other cities were important then? Boston, Philly…Philly! Philadelphia!”

At the shake of your head, Eddie slumps down on the bed.

“New York City,” you tell him.

“Ugh, fuck me.” Eddie rubs his hands over his face, and you give him a pat on the leg.

“Not tonight, hot shot. Grab your books.”

Spending your free period in the library, pouring over books, you’re jarred out of the world of microeconomics by the chair across the table from you screeching against the floor as it’s pulled out. A dark figure plops down in it, and you glance up to see the dark leather jacket and black Judas Priest t-shirt that you’d sat next to in last period English. Eddie runs a hand over his unruly curls and shoots you a smile.

“Hey, babe.”

“Eddie, what the hell are you doing here?” you get out through gritted teeth. You’re almost certain the pencil in your hand is going to snap in half. “You’re supposed to be in history.”

“Ugh, O’Donnell,” Eddie complains, dropping his head back. “I swear, she was there for half the shit she’s telling us about. God, I couldn’t take it anymore. She’s just droning on and on. Told her I had to take a leak and knew this is where I’d find my best girl.”

“Eddie!” You all but shout his name before remembering you’re in the library and you lower your voice. “Eddie, you’re already in danger of failing her class. Among others. Should you really be skipping class?”

“Babe, it’s been five minutes,” he says with a chuckle, his carefree attitude that you usually love grating on your nerves.

“Okay. So, go back and pay attention now.” Your tone is sharp and curt, but you’ve put up with this long enough.

“Trying to get rid of me?” Eddie asks, jutting out his lower lip in what is an admittedly adorable pout. He leans forward on the table, letting his hand slide over to rest on top of one of yours.

“Trying to get you to graduate,” you say, snatching your hand away. Your boyfriend watches you with wide eyes as you slam your book closed and shove it into your backpack. Slinging it over your shoulder, you stand up and nod your head towards the library door. “Let’s go.”

Eddie follows behind you like a lost puppy as you storm out of the library and stalk down the hall. Once you’ve turned down an empty hallway, you spin around to face him. The anger in your eyes takes him aback, and he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

“You’re mad,” he says softly.

“Yes, I’m mad,” you snap. “My boyfriend doesn’t seem to give a shit if he graduates high school or not.”

“I care,” Eddie defends weakly.

“If you cared, you’d be in class right now. Or would study with me when I ask—or at all! Jesus, Eddie, I’ve been trying for months to get you to take your future seriously.”

“My future with you is what’s most important,” Eddie says, hand reaching out for you. Hurt flashes across his face when you pull away, and it hurts you too. This isn’t what you wanted. You’ve never wanted to be the reason Eddie’s in pain. But you also can’t just sit by and let him do this to himself.

“That’s part of the problem, Eddie. You’re so focused on me and not enough on you.”

“Because I love you,” he says.

“I love you, too, Eddie,” you reply, tears starting to fill your eyes. “That’s why I’m so concerned about you. About your future.”

“I’ll go back to class,” Eddie says, taking a step closer to you. “I-I’ll study with you. Baby, I promise.”

“You’ve said that before.” You squeeze your eyes closed, resolving yourself to what you know you have to do. As much as you don’t want it. As much as it’s going to break your heart. “It’s not enough, Eddie.”

“Then what?” Eddie rests his hands on your upper arms. “Tell me what to do.”

“It’s too late,” you say, shaking your head.

“W-What do you mean it’s too late?” But the dread in his eyes says he knows exactly what you mean.

“You’re not taking your future seriously. I’ve tried so hard to help you, but there’s only so much I can push you. At some point you have to do it for yourself. I’m so tired of waiting for you to do it, though. It hurts me to sit here and watch you not care about you as much as I do.”

“Sweetheart, please—.”

“Eddie, it’s over. We’re over.”

Tears flood his eyes as his jaw hangs open. Eddie’s hands slip from your arms, and he stumbles back a step. You know the pain on his face must be reflected in your own. And maybe it means you’re a coward, but you can’t look at his broken expression anymore. Tucking your thumbs into your backpack straps, you turn around and walk down the empty hallway, away from Eddie.

Eddie feels numb. He’s walking around school in a haze. Friends try to talk to him in the hallway, but they sound like they’re underwater and Eddie can’t understand them. Gareth waves his hand in front of Eddie’s face, but he doesn’t even blink. Jeff grabs his shoulder, but Eddie doesn’t even feel it, he just keeps walking. It’s not until Dustin grabs Eddie by the zipper of his leather jacket and pushes him up against the lockers that the twenty-year-old snaps back to reality.

“What?” Eddie asks, big brown eyes blinking as he tries to focus on the shorter man in front of him.

“Are you okay? What the hell is going on?” Dustin asks. Eddie’s eyes find the floor and he shakes off Dustin’s hands.

“She left me,” he mumbles.

“What?” Gareth asks, leaning in to hear him better.

“She fucking broke up with me, okay?” His friends flinch as Eddie pushes himself off the lockers and runs his hands over his hair. They back away, giving him room to pace the small area around him.

“Why?” Jeff asks, sounding half afraid to ask the question to his hot-tempered friend.

“She said I’m not taking my future seriously,” Eddie answers. “That I don’t seem to care that I’m failing classes. Again.” Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie can see his three friends share a look. He stops pacing and stares at them. “What?”

“I mean,” Jeff starts quietly, “she has a point.”

When Eddie just continues to stare, Dustin decides to speak up as well.

“She’s been trying real hard to help you, man. You haven’t seemed to care, though.”

“I…I care,” Eddie says.

“When’s the last time she tried to get you to study?” Dustin asks.

“The other night.” Eddie remembers, thinking about how he failed your quiz.

“And what did you do?” Dustin asks.

Eddie sighs and rubs a hand over his forehead. “Tried to have sex with her.”

“This is probably a good thing,” Gareth says, shrinking in on himself when Eddie glares at him. “For you. So you can focus on school.”

Eddie scoffs. “She really think I’m gonna be able to focus on school after she shatters my heart like this? Fuck, I love her so much.”

“I’m sorry, man,” Jeff says.

“Fuck this shit.” Eddie slams his fist against the lockers and strides down the hall, towards the exit.

When Eddie gets home, Wayne hasn’t left for work yet. He’s sitting on the couch, remote control in his hand as he points it at the small television and clicks through the channels. Eddie wrenches open the front door, dirty black boots stomping into the trailer before banging the door closed behind him. Wayne pauses his channel surfing to raise an eyebrow at his nephew.

“What’s the matter with you, boy?”

Ignoring the older man, Eddie strides down the hallway to his bedroom, footsteps so heavy they rattle the mugs hanging on the living room walls. Wayne was no stranger to Eddie temper tantrums—having raised him through puberty—but this is a level he hasn’t seen since the last time a letter from his father arrived. He gives it a few moments before deciding to see what’s going on with the brooding boy. Wayne hoists himself off the couch, groaning as his bones click and muscles tighten.

The bedroom door isn’t fully closed, so Wayne swings it open to see Eddie lying flat on his back, staring up at the water-stained ceiling. He hadn’t even bothered to shed himself of the leather jacket or boots before plopping down.

“I know I may not have taught you much in life, boy, but I know I taught you manners,” Wayne says.

Eddie stays silent, which is never the case. That worries Wayne more than anything.

“Eddie?”

“She dumped me.”

Wayne takes a moment to process what his nephew says. He places his hands on his hips and blows out a breath.

“What happened?”

Eddie rubs his hands over his face before responding. When he does speak, his tone is bitter. “She said that I don’t care about my future. That she’s tired of sitting around while I’m out here being a dumbass.”

“She wouldn’t say that,” Wayne says with a shake of his head.

“Maybe not with those exact words.” Eddie forces himself to sit up, shoulders slumped. “But the same messaging.”

Sighing, Wayne sits down next to him and pats his shoulder.

“I’m sorry to hear that. She’s a good kid.”

“I always told her that you like her more than you like me,” Eddie grumbles.

“Only sometimes,” Wayne jokes with a small smile. “Now, you’re allowed to wallow for one day—two at the most. Then you get your ass in gear and get your act together.”

With a low groan, Eddie flops back down on the bed. “Don’t wanna.”

“Well,” Wayne says, pushing himself off the bed. “The girl is either gonna be right about you or wrong. It’s up to you which one it is.”

Wayne makes his way out of the bedroom and Eddie rolls over so he’s face down on his bed. He squeezes his eyes shut as the first of the tears begin to burn his eyes. The way his throat begins to tighten has Eddie gripping his blanket in his fists. Wayne’s words repeat in his head. Would you end up being right? Is everything you said about him true? Of course it is, he thinks to himself. He’s about to fail senior year for the third time—and he didn’t even care. Until now, he decides. Pushing himself off the bed, Eddie yanks his leather jacket off. He tosses it in the general direction of his closet, not caring where it lands as he bends down to pick his biology textbook from the floor.

“Should be able to read this whole damn thing before finals.”

Eddie’s friends hardly recognize him at lunch the next day. Instead of arguing over Lucas missing another Hellfire meeting for a basketball game and munching on pretzels, he has his nose buried in a book.

“Now I’ve seen everything,” Gareth says, dropping his tray on the tabletop. His brows pinch together when Eddie doesn’t even lift his head.

“Is that Eddie Munson reading a book?” Jeff asks.

“And not just a book,” Dustin says as he slides into the seat next to his Dungeon Master. He picks the corner up to take a look at the cover to confirm his suspicions, but Eddie’s quick to slap his hand away so he can keep reading. “Eddie is reading Romeo and Juliet.”

“Look at this cultured man,” Gareth says. Still, Eddie doesn’t lift his head.

“How far do you think this will go?” Mike asks. “Think we could shit talk Metallica?”

“I’m reading, I’m not deaf,” Eddie says.

“Is this about—” Lucas starts but Dustin elbows him in the ribs.

Finally, Eddie raises his eyes from the book and sends a death glare to all of his friends. He slams the book closed and snatches it up before striding out of the cafeteria. Weren’t these the same assholes who had told him that you were right about him not taking his future seriously? But the moment they see him trying to improve himself, they decide to make snide jokes. Eddie grumbles as he makes his way to the library, banging the door open and ignoring the sneer from the librarian as he drops down at a table. With a sigh, he opens the book again and continues where he left off before he was rudely interrupted.

Two periods later, Eddie’s pretty sure Mrs. O’Donnell is going to have a heart attack after he raises his hand and answers a question correctly. The crone takes a moment before continuing her lecture and Eddie smirks in self-satisfaction.

Once Eddie gets used to his eyes being tired from reading so much, and his headaches from the information overloads start to abate, he manages to bring his grades up. It takes a couple of weeks for him to finally see the difference, but when he does, he feels something that he’s not sure if he’s ever felt before: pride. Being proud of himself is odd at first, and he smokes a bit more than usual to dull the sensation, but he soon comes to enjoy it and the pleasant buzz he feels has nothing to do with the weed.

A few weeks out from graduation, Eddie’s lounging on the wall in front of the school, stretched out as the late spring sun warms the afternoon, reading the assigned chapter in The Outsiders. A shadow falls across the pages of his book and Eddie squints as he looks up, finding you standing next to him, thumb hooked in the strap of your backpack, a strained smile on your face.

“Hey, stranger,” you say.

Eddie pushes himself into a sitting position, letting his long legs dangle over the side of the wall. He closes his book, keeping a ring clad finger between the pages that he’s currently on.

“Hey,” Eddie says. This is the first time you’ve talked to one another since that day in the hallway. Neither of you had even contacted one another to give back stuff that was at the others’ houses. Eddie knows there’s a handful of his t-shirts at your place and he’s not sure if it comforts him or causes him pain to wonder if you still wear them to sleep. And he knows exactly where the David Bowie tapes that you left in his room are—one is in his stereo right now. He’s managed to either hide or push down the pain from the breakup, but he still spends most nights falling asleep to Space Oddity or Ziggy Stardust. It even got to the point where Wayne had come into his room and said, “As glad as I am that I don’t have to listen to your screaming music, you’ve gotta stop wallowing in pity. Or at least listen to Elvis or somethin’ while ya do.”

“I saw you in the library last week. And I’ve heard that you’ve been working really hard,” you tell him. “I’m glad, Eddie. That’s amazing.”

“Uh, thanks,” he says, nodding his head. Under the guise of avoiding the bright sun, he ducks his head down and looks at his white sneakers. But really, he’s not sure if he can look you in the eye for more than a second at a time. The sadness had given way to anger, which gave away to an empty, aching pain in the pit of his stomach. “I, um, started because I didn’t want you to be right. Apparently, you weren’t the only one who thought I needed to get my shit together. But, uh, now I’m doing it for me. Trying to put me first.”

“Good,” you say. Eddie looks up to see you giving him a genuine smile. The one not many other people got to see. You’re not attempting to give him a pep talk or play some kind of game with him. Eddie can tell that you’re being authentic and really are pleased to see him succeeding. “You deserve it, Eddie. I’m proud of you.”

The words affect him more than he would’ve thought. His throat feels tighter and suddenly the spring day feels like it’s a blisteringly hot August afternoon. “Thanks,” he manages to get out.

“And I—um, I’m sorry. I really hope you know that I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know.” And he does. Now. He’d had moments of thinking you had done it as a way of calling him stupid or pathetic. But once the haziness of the initial heartbreak wore off, he realized you would never think that, let alone be cruel enough to insinuate it.

“I guess I’ll see you around, Eddie,” you say, offering him a small wave. He nods his head in acknowledgment and tries to get back to his book. But too much of you fills his head for him to be able to focus on what Ponyboy is talking about.

Finals come and they go. Eddie waits with bated breath for the results, feeling more on edge, even with kicking up the pot smoking again. When Eddie sees that he’s passed every single exam, the high he feels is better than he could’ve imagined. Not quite as good as some drug highs and definitely nowhere as near the high you gave him, but it’s still good. For the first time in his life, Eddie is excited to come home and wave a school paper in Wayne’s face. In the past, it’d been a detention slip, a letter of reprimand from the principal, or a failed report card that he needed to have signed and returned. But this is something good. Better than good, Wayne tells him.

“Looks like you’ve got to get yourself a cap and gown, boy.”

So, he does. When he puts them on the morning of graduation though, he groans at how the shade of green looks on him. Black was his best color, according to him, so something this bright just wasn’t him.

He strolls over to his stereo near the window and firmly presses the play button. Heroes by David Bowie fills the small bedroom as Eddie takes another look at himself in the mirror. No one would look good in this color, he thinks. Well, he muses, that’s not true. You would look good in this color because it’s impossible for you to ever look anything less than breathtaking.

I, I will be king

And you, you will be queen

Eddie sighs and turns away from the mirror. Grabbing his keys off of his bedside table, Eddie clicks the pause button on his stereo before heading down the hallway.

“See ya at the ceremony, old man,” Eddie says to his uncle before he’s out the trailer door.

Only the graduates and school faculty get there this early, so the parking lot is relatively empty when Eddie pulls in. He hops out of his van and sees Jeff getting out of his car a few spaces over.

“Glad to see you look as awful as I do in this shit,” Eddie says as he makes his way over to his fellow Hellfire member.

“Black robes would’ve been brutal under this sun though, dude,” Jeff replies.

Eddie shrugs because he knows his friend is right. Together they walk towards the football field, a place Eddie actively tried to avoid all the years he spent here. It looks like most of the students are here already. Not long after Eddie spots Jason Carver straightening his tie, even though it’s under the gown, all the students are herded into the gymnasium to wait for the ceremony to begin. The gym smells even worse than normal with the whole senior class shoved inside. Eddie spies you off towards a corner, laughing about something with Nancy. It wouldn’t surprise him if you’re trying to make her laugh to take her mind off of the valedictorian speech she’s about to give. Eyes taking in how you look in the green cap and gown, Eddie knows he was right before; you are the only one who looks drop dead gorgeous in the graduation garment. He knows his eyes have been on you for too long, but he can’t bring himself to tear them away.

“So, what’s going on there?” Jeff asks, seeing where his friend’s gaze lies. “You did what she wanted, right? Are you going to try and get back together with her?”

Eddie sighs and finally breaks his gaze away from you. Instead, he looks up into the rafters of the gym, squinting as the bright lights shine down.

“I don’t really think this was a ‘if you fix this, we’ll get back together’ type of situation,” Eddie says. “Besides, it’s been months. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s been on dates with a bunch of different guys by now.”

“You still love her, though.” It’s not a question from Jeff, it’s a statement. A fact that was as obvious as the scuff marks on the floor of the gym.

“Yeah,” Eddie says, not adding anything further.

“Shouldn’t you at least try then?” Jeff asks. “You did all that hard work.”

“But I didn’t do it for her,” Eddie answers with a shake of his head. “I did it for me.”

“But you still did it,” Jeff points out. “It won’t be in vain either way, man, because you’re here right now. About to graduate. I’m just saying you should talk to her. See where things stand.”

“Maybe,” Eddie says with a sigh.

Mrs. O’Donnell bustles into the room—well, as fast as she can at her age. Taking stock of the children around the gym, she claps her hands together to get their attention.

“Okay, okay, everyone. Time to line up. We’ll be starting soon.”

Jeff and Eddie let themselves be herded with the rest of their class and listen half-heartedly at instructions shouted at them as they make their way back outside.

Once the ceremony starts, it’s long and boring. Nancy’s speech isn’t as bad as Eddie expected, though. But Principal Higgins has to talk, then just about every other school official that Eddie swears he’s never seen in the front office even after all the time he’s spent in there. Then the never ending list of names begins. Of course all the names are familiar to Eddie, but that doesn’t mean he cares enough to watch each of them walk across the stage, shake hands, and get their diploma. There are only a select few people that Eddie actually pays attention for.

“Nancy Wheeler.”

“Robin Buckley.”

“Jason Carver.” Eddie pretends to gag.

“Chrissy Cunningham.”

“Jeff Donaldson.”

Then it’s your turn. Eddie can’t take his eyes off of you or the big grin on your face as you hop up on the stage and go through the long line of people none of you had ever heard of to shake their hands. Your eyes light up as your diploma is handed to you. Eddie doesn’t even realize he’s smiling along with you until his cheeks begin to ache. That settles it, he thinks. I have to talk to her.

“Eddie Munson.”

Hearing his own name called over the loudspeaker jars him out of his thoughts. He’s distantly aware of people cheering for him as he makes his way to the stage, but it feels too weird to be real. People didn’t even cheer for him at Corroded Coffin shows. Eddie takes the steps up to the stage two at a time and forces a pleasant smile to his lips as he shakes Principal Higgins’ hand. The rest of the faces become a blur as he moves from person to person until he finally gets his diploma. He grins at the simple rolled up paper in his hands. It’s just a blank piece of paper until his real diploma comes in, he knows, but it means so much more. It’s proof that he did it. That he graduated at long last. The now-familiar pride swells up in him as he heads back to his seat among the students in the green sea of their robes.

When the ceremony finally comes to an end, there’s hugging and crying and squealing coming from all around the football field. Eddie makes his way out into the parking lot where families are taking photos with their graduates, all smiles and congratulations. Wayne’s truck is hard to miss in the parking lot; by far the oldest vehicle there. Eddie heads in that direction and is greeted by a beaming uncle.

“M’so proud of you, boy.” Wayne pulls Eddie into a hug, which wasn’t a usual occurrence in the Munson household. “You put your mind to something and ya did it.”

“Thanks,” Eddie says, smiling sheepishly.

“Congratulations.”

The familiar voice coming from behind him has Eddie spinning around so fast he hears his neck crack.

“Uh, thanks,” he says. “You too.”

“C’mon, let me get a picture of the two of you,” Wayne says, pulling a camera that looks older than Eddie out of his pocket.

Eddie is about to protest, not wanting to make you uncomfortable or feel obligated, but you’re looping your arm through his before he can even open his mouth. You tilt your head, close to Eddie’s shoulder but not quite touching, and smile prettily for the camera. Eddie musters his best look for the picture as well, but on the inside, he’s cringing as he imagines what that picture must look like.

“Perfect,” Wayne says. He unlocks his truck and tosses the camera inside. “I’ll see you later, Eddie?”

“Okay,” Eddie says.

Wayne pulls Eddie in for another hug before enveloping you in one as well.

“I’m real proud of both of you,” he says.

“Thanks, Wayne,” you reply.

Wayne climbs into his truck and gives the two of you one last wave before heading out of the parking lot.

“So, uh,” Eddie starts at the same time you say, “So, listen.”

Eddie chuckles and nods his head at you. “You first.”

“Oh, I, um, was just going to ask if you were going to the party tonight. At Cat’s place.”

“I hadn’t really planned on it,” Eddie says as he unzips the graduation robe. “Why?”

“Well, uh, I—I was wondering if maybe you’d want to? I mean, I-I’ll be there. But if you don’t wanna, I totally understand.”

“You want me to?” Eddie asks, raising his eyebrows at you as he slips his hands into the pockets of his black jeans.

“I do,” you say, a shy look that Eddie is unaccustomed to on your face. “Like I said, I get it if you don’t want to. But I had to at least ask.”

“I guess it wouldn’t kill me to go for a little while. Might be able to sell.”

“You don’t want to celebrate?” you ask. “Dance and drink?”

“Of all people, you should know better than anyone that I don’t dance,” Eddie says with a small smile.

“But you drink,” you point out.

“Why do you want to spend time with me?” Eddie asks, tilting his head to the side, like a puppy wondering what it’s human just said. Better to ask bluntly and get a clear answer then try to piece one together in his mind.

“I need a reason?”

“Kind of. After you dumped me? Yeah, you do.”

“I miss you,” you admit, so quietly that Eddie almost misses it. “I’ve missed you from the moment I left you standing there in that hallway. So many times I almost caved and begged you to take me back. But then I’d see you studying, and it would remind me that you need to focus on you. And you did. Look what you accomplished. I’m really, really proud of you, Eddie.”

“Not bad for the school freak, huh?” Eddie asks, the beginnings of a smirk curling his pink lips.

“I think you need a new nickname,” you muse. “We’re not in school anymore.”

“Maybe we can come up with one at the party tonight,” Eddie says, causing your face to light up in excitement.

“Really? You’ll go with me?” you ask, eyes widening in hope.

“I’d be pretty dumb not to.”

“You’ve always been far from dumb, sweetheart,” you tell him. Hesitantly, you reach out and lace your fingers with his. “I think I came up with a new nickname for you, too.”

“Do tell,” Eddie says.

“No more Eddie the Freak or Eddie the Banished,” you say, imitating Eddie’s Dungeon Master voice. “You are now Eddie the graduate.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #request

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dark-frosted-heart · 4 months ago

Text

Choose Your True Love - Keith Howell (part 2/4)

This is the from the 4th anniversary event

(Alter)Keith indicates that it’s Alter!Keith pretending to be Keith.

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. Some dialogue’s taken directly from the English version of Keith's route.

(He's impressive in so many ways…)

Alter!Keith: Thought you were gonna cry a bit, but you’re pretty tough even with that cute face. Or are you used to this in the future?

Emma: From what I know, things aren’t as bad as they are now. It’s most likely because Prince Keith keeps things in check.

Alter!Keith: That so? Makes sense…Then it’s worth gutting them.

He snickered and looked over his documents again.

(Be careful with “that”)

The documents from Liam had information on nobles who had committed crimes that couldn’t be ignored.

And so I went from estate to estate with Prince Keith as his aide.

You could say the purpose was to do some clean up.

~~ Flashback ~~

(Alter)Keith: Even cities far from the capital are under watch. Continue foolishly raising taxes and we’ll know. It’s alright though, I won’t be asking for an immediate confession. After tomorrow, you won’t be a lord, so we have plenty of time.

(Alter)Keith: You joined a group of thieves to deal in illegal trading. Good thing you were too optimistic to be careful. Is that an excuse I hear? Let’s go, there’s a carriage waiting. You don’t live here anymore.

(Alter)Keith: It’s not fake at all. This is real evidence given to me by the administrator you hired. You should be thankful that they gave you a chance to make up for your crimes. But will this pointless struggle continue?

~~ End flashback ~~

(Even though he was pretending to be nice Prince Keith, his smile instilled fear)

(Those cold golden eyes that could stop the heart and merciless cornering)

(And speaking of mercy, he didn’t take any lives)

I shivered at the memory. Those nobles must have been traumatized.

~~ Flashback to his route ~~

Liam: Although his methods are barbaric, it is thanks to him that our nation’s defenses are stronger, and the nobles who hurt the common people are less in number. Although naturally, there is a subset of nobles who despise him because of that. Prince Keith has achieved a great many things. But most of those were achieved by that piece of crap.

~~ End flashback ~~

A conversation from before I came to Jade crossed my mind.

(Sure, the way he’s cornering the nobles will make them hostile, but it eases the common people’s suffering)

(He’s doing this “on behalf of” and “for” the nice Prince Keith…)

(Prince Keith’s annoyed by the cruel words said, but he’s not upset by them)

(It’s like he’s used to it)

(...I can’t ignore it)

The nobles naturally didn’t admit to their crimes when they were presented to them.

And because it was Prince Keith they were dealing with, they hurled insults at him, which made me angry.

Alter!Keith: …

Emma: Um, can I help you?

I tilted my head in confusion when Prince Keith leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and stared at me.

Alter!Keith: Nothing. Just surprised by how much you like the failure.

(I’m not…though this reminds me of when we first met)

He’d call nice Prince Keith a “failure”, but would smile whenever I said he wasn’t.

(He’s been lying to himself and acting contradictory for so long…)

Alter!Keith: …

(Ah, he’s going over the documents again)

They were different from the ones Liam gave him, and he had been spending most of our time in the carriage looking over them.

(I wonder if the king’s already left official duties to him as his aid by this time)

The sunlight made the dark circles under his eyes peeking out through his bangs more prominent.

(That’s probably not the only cause…)

It was something that had been bothering me since before we left the castle, and I unconsciously opened my mouth.

Emma: Why don’t you rest your eyes for a moment?

Alter!Keith: Sorry I got you worried, but these dark circles are that guy’s fault. “I’m” not tired.

Emma: Nice Prince Keith’s fault…?

(What did he mean?)

Alter!Keith: …That’s what you call him?

Emma: Yes, since you’re both Prince Keith.

Alter!Keith: Then what about me?

Emma: Wicked Prince Keith.

Alter!Keith: Haha, so I played with you in the future? Well, you do look gullible.

Emma: I don’t think I am…?

Alter!Keith: Whatever you say…Hm?

Emma: ?

(Did he see something outside the window…?)

Like Prince Keith, I looked out the window.

At that moment, I felt a peck on the cheek and heard a chuckle.

I looked back and saw Prince Keith smiling wickedly at me.

Alter!Keith: I need to use complex tricks for Emma. Noted.

Emma: …You’re still as wicked as ever.

Alter!Keith: So I’m also wicked Prince Keith too?

He still had that same innocent smile which almost made me forget that I was in the past.

(Hopefully this was enough to distract from the unpleasantness from the estate…)

Alter!Keith: As an apology for making you pout, I’ll answer any question you have.

Emma: Huh?

Alter!Keith: There’s something you want to ask me.

(...Is he sure?)

I hesitated for a moment and looked into his eyes.

Emma: The dark circles aren’t because you’re busy with official duties, is it?

Alter!Keith: You got it.

Prince Keith sighed and everything was quiet for a moment.

Alter!Keith: …The next time we wake up, which personality will be in front? What if it’s a different personality? He’s been losing sleep worrying over this.

(I thought so…)

I remembered his diaries and the empty shelves.

(Back in this time, Prince Keith was still confused over his abnormality, and was struggling to accept it)

(So maybe those feelings of fear and rejection toward the wicked Prince Keith were strong enough to make him lose sleep)

Alter!Keith: He may be a failure, but he’s stubborn. Even if he can’t do anything, he’ll still desperately try to do something for his country or someone else. …And he gets in my way.

(Now I can understand just how much the wicked Prince Keith cares for the nice Prince Keith)

(...That’s why it’s difficult)

At the same time, it felt irritating.

(...I want to cover my ears right now)

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikepri jp #ikepri translations #keith howell #ikepri keith

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beachy--head · 2 months ago

Text

Little drabble (yay), inspired by (SPOILERS FOR 21x06) a cute Lumone scene that felt so much like Japril circa season 9.

___

Life is back on track. Sure, she has yet to pass her boards, but she’s still a trauma attending working in a nationally-acclaimed hospital, the interns have stopped calling her “the dud” (allowing them to scrub in on a grizzly trauma usually does the trick), and her best friend, turned virginity taker, turned friend with benefits, turned proper boyfriend, looks really good in dark blue scrubs.

April Kepner is so back.

She’s in the elevator with said boyfriend and with Alex, who’s heading with her to the pit for a consult. As she’s studying the patient’s chart, the doors open to the plastics floor, and Jackson kisses her cheek.

“I’m in the OR all day. Three reconstructive surgeries. I’ll see you later.”

Still engrossed in her chart, she smiles and nods as he exits the elevator.

“Good luck! See you later. Love you!”

Oh no. No no no no.

Jackson freezes, ruining any delusion that maybe she hasn’t uttered these words out loud, and she can feel Alex stifle a laugh.

“Uh…”

Her face is probably fifty shades of red, but she can’t stop looking at Jackson, his mouth slightly open, for what feels like years (is Alex somehow pressing the button that keeps the elevator doors open?). God, the universe, someone finally deigns to take pity on her, and the doors close, the elevator continuing its journey down to the pit.

“Dude. Did you just say–”

“Shut up, Alex.”

“And it’s the first time that either of y–”

“I said shut. Up.”

Alex obeys, but his smirk stays on, and he snorts. Another eternity later, the doors open, and she’s face to face with Cristina.

“Hey Yang, guess what? Kepner here just–”

She huffs and glares at Alex, holding the chart close to her chest.

“We have a patient we need to see.”

“Oh, I bet you’d looove to see our patient.”

She rolls her eyes and pushes Alex’s shoulder in an effort to leave. As she walks away, Alex on her trail, she tries to convince herself that everything is fine. Maybe she’s making a bigger deal out of it that it needs to be.

Maybe he didn’t even hear her.

___

Maybe she didn’t even say it.

His day was filled with surgeries, so it’s not like Jackson had the luxury to replay this moment in his head on a loop, but he’s now trying to get some rest in an on-call room before his last surgery of the day, and it’s getting harder to think about anything but this morning.

That is, until April comes in, eyes avoiding his, ruining any chance he had to think of anything else. She takes a seat next to him on the cot and starts rambling right away (that’s his girl).

“So, I’ve prepared a speech in my head all day, about how it was nothing, it’s just something you say at the end of a conversation, like, I’m pretty sure I said it to my dentist on the phone once after confirming an appointment, and that it doesn’t necessarily mean anything. But it does mean something, and I’m a lot of things, but I’m not a liar. And I know we agreed to take things slow after that pregnancy scare, and it’s a big deal, but I’m tired of acting like I don’t, so. Here goes. I love you. And it’s okay if it’s too soon and you can’t say it back, I’ll live, I know you said you had feelings and I’m not asking you to–”

He cuts her off with a kiss, his hand automatically going in her hair, hoping to convey everything he hasn’t said yet. She sighs, this little sigh he’ll never grow tired of hearing, and he deepens the kiss, his hands moving to her neck.

His pager beeps, and he ignores it, getting lost in her, until it beeps again. It’s from Torres, telling him in capital letters to get his ass down to OR3 immediately or else, and he sighs. Because he doesn’t want to tell her in an on-call room. He’s a closeted romantic (don’t tell Karev), and his plans for telling her he loved her (because oh, how much he loves her) didn’t include dirty scrubs and pagers going off in the middle of a pretty good damn kiss. So far, their relationship has not particularly followed the standard stages, so he kind of needs to get at least one thing right, with a big romantic gesture, or at least a proper date.

“I’m sorry, I got to go, last surgery of the day. I’ll see you right after? My place?”

April nods, her hands unconsciously touching her hair, and he gives her a smile before leaving, hoping she won’t think he’s a coward who would do anything to avoid the subject. Because April Kepner deserves the world, deserves to know that what she said is okay, more than okay, actually. She's his best friend, his favorite person, whom he met at the hospital, and who loves him, dirty scrubs and proper romantic dates be damned.

So he turns back, passes his head in the doorway, catching April looking as confused as ever, and he smiles.

“Oh, and I love you too, by the way.”

April’s beaming smile stays with him during the whole surgery, the whole evening, until he can hold her in his arms again and pepper those three words over and over on her skin.

#japril #drabble #april kepner #jackson avery

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green-eyedfirework · 8 months ago

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“Are our terms acceptable?” Bruce asked, polite and formal, to end the discussion of payment. The Defiance company wasn’t any random band of mercenaries, but a full-fledged military in their own right, and in addition to money, Bruce promised lands and titles.

It was a very enticing offer. It had to be.

Ra’s al Ghul was on their doorstep and Gotham’s military had never been its strong suit. The old snake’s maneuvering the year Bruce had been missing had destroyed most of their alliances because Dick had been too busy trying to run a kingdom he’d never wanted to rule to notice the trap being set, and now it was sprung.

They needed an army. And they needed one fast.

“The terms are fair,” a low voice answered. Slade Wilson sat in his chair like he spent every day sitting at tables across from kings, utterly at ease and wearing the faintest of smirks. He knew they were desperate. Everyone knew they were desperate. They were running out of options.

Slade Wilson and Defiance would gouge them for every single penny, but Dick knew that Defiance kept their contracts. Ra’s wouldn’t be able to buy them off. And they needed that. No matter the cost.

“But your word is not,” Slade said, and Dick tightened his grip on the table. Slade’s smirk had widened. “Lots of rumors about broken promises, Your Majesty. You can see why I’m hesitant to commit.”

Dick breathed in and out. It was just a ploy to get more out of Bruce. Slade would agree. Slade had to agree.

“Is there something that would make the deal more acceptable?” Bruce asked, voice slightly strained.

“As a matter of fact,” Slade’s gaze switched to Dick, the ice blue eye boring into him, “there is.” A beat of silence, heavy and still. “A binding contract.” Another beat of silence, tension rising—“Marriage.”

Bruce blinked, “Excuse me?”

“Marriage,” Slade repeated, a low murmur spreading out among the assorted councilors. Jason, the only other royal attending, looked abruptly furious. “I don’t have a partner,” Slade spread his arms, “and you have no shortage of children. A royal marriage would be enough to safeguard my interests.”

Dick forced himself to keep breathing. A royal marriage wouldn’t just safeguard his interests, it would catapult Slade to one of the most powerful positions in the country. It was far, far beyond anything Dick thought the man would ask for, and Dick knew that the mercenary was only so bold because he knew they couldn’t say no.

Bruce’s face was set, jaw hard. “I’m not sure—”

“That is my final offer,” Slade said, still staring at Dick with an intensity that made him want to shiver. “I’ll leave you to discuss it. You know where to find us.”

He quirked his lips at Dick, and turned and headed out.

~#~

“Who does he think he is?” Jason was seething. “How dare he come here and dictate terms to—”

“We need him,” Dick said shortly, cutting him off. “We need his men. We have no choice.”

“Bullshit we have no choice, we can negotiate—”

“He won’t agree,” Dick slumped in his chair, abruptly tired. Bruce watched him, frowning. “If he says that’s his final word, that’s his final word. A marriage, or nothing. And we can’t beat Ra’s without him.”

It was Dick’s fault. It was all Dick’s fault. If he’d been paying closer attention—if he’d just listened to Tim and sent men out searching for Bruce earlier—if Ra’s hadn’t capitalized on Dick’s weaknesses—

This was Dick’s fault.

“Are you seriously proposing we just sell off one of our siblings?” Jason’s eyes were glittering with fury. “To a mercenary?”

Dick closed his eyes briefly. The smirk on Slade’s face. The intensity—the same one he’d seen years ago, when Dick ran around with the Titans. He’d known there was interest then too, but Dick hadn’t been quite that rebellious, and Slade had never dared to press the issue. Until now.

“He wants me,” Dick says hollowly. “So draw up the deal and get it signed. We don’t have time to waste.” Dick had already given up his position as heir to Tim, so there was no chance of Slade seizing the crown. The only casualty would be Dick himself.

Jason and Bruce were staring at him, silent. Bruce’s expression was stone-like, Jason was gaping at him.

“Dick—”

“This war is my fault,” Dick stood up from his chair in a fluid, sharp movement. “If this is the only way to fix it, so be it.”

#my snippets #sladick #royalty au #political marriage

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heylittleriotact · 1 month ago

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WIP Wednesday

It’s foggy and cold, I’m in a mood… here’s an updated chunk of WIP from my Emmrich POV one shot when Rook goes missing. It’s messy and rambly and I’m having so much fun.

@xxnashiraxx what’re you cooking? 👀 (no pressure of course)

Under the cut for length

He could have just ignored it - that persistent tightness in his chest that forecasted the all-encompassing terror that would consume him in short order, stampeding through his body and reducing him to a shivering, clammy skinned likeness of a man. He could have done the intelligent thing and kept it to himself instead of trying to appease it by feeding it more pain. But no. He was Emmrich Volkarin - a smart man; an overachiever; an academic and philosophical force of nature - he knew what was best for him in that moment… and what was best for her, because for all of her quaint cheerful talk about death over breakfast, she hadn’t the faintest idea what she was talking about, and honestly, that pointy, bristled, vile little part of himself that he kept shackled with clever repartee and gentlemanly manners fucking hated her for it.

So he bit. He lashed out like one of the dirty, malnourished, terrified strays that scurried between the narrow gaps of the crumbling buildings in the part of the capital that he called home in his youth. His brittle fangs caught skin and drew blood, and he knew it wouldn’t be long before someone hunted him down and put him out of his misery - too dangerous, you see: the world has no need for a creature prone to such violence, even if it was shaped by its circumstances…

Perhaps he belonged in that prison with the gods. Perhaps the Maker had seen fit to free his parents from him: if they were dead, they no longer had to deal with the burden of a third mouth to feed while earning enough gold to maybe sustain one. Perhaps death had been freedom and relief for Rupert and Elannora Volkarin, because there was something wrong with little Emmrich, and it was in everyone’s best interests that he was alone. Perhaps the Maker looked upon Amina with that same kindness and called her away from him too, not willing to subject this kind, lonely woman to the wrongness that was Emmrich, and the carefully crafted palisade of good will that could only temporarily conceal the utter rot that dwelled beyond it.

He stared sullenly at the now room temperature bowl of roasted tomato soup Lucanis had brought him hours earlier. He knew he should eat. He couldn’t remember the last thing he’d eaten. Maybe a handful of the spicy little peppermint candies that Amina was so taken with. When she started spending more and more time in the laboratory with him, she appeared one day with a bowl full of them that she set on the mantelpiece, declaring that she was tired of going back and forth to her room to get more every time she fancied another.

He was always telling her that she couldn’t live on mints and needed to eat properly and look after herself… it was only fair that he took his own advice, but the very thought of food only made his already unsettled stomach turn on itself more.

His eyes returned to the page as he tried and failed to summon the formidable academic concentration that had taken him this far in life.

It was so odd how the words on paper kept replacing themselves with the words he should have said to Amina that night instead.

I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you…

He sniffled and rubbed his eyes again, wiping away tears with the heels of his hands. He was so tired of crying. He had cried so much already. Couldn’t he be finished with crying?

He knew if he asked her that question, she’d look at him with that serious but perceiving smile of hers… maybe run her hand soothingly down his arm and say, “I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that, but I’ll keep you company if you’d like: shared sorrow is a halved burden.”

Fade take him… what a fool he was…

“Professor?”

Emmrich started at the unexpected greeting and looked up. Had Davrin been standing there long?

“Davrin,” he put on what he knew to be a cheerful, amiable tone that might have been believable if not for the weak unevenness of it. “What can I help you with?”

He’d spent so much of his life helping the living and the dead to avoid confronting his own horrors… the loss of his parents, his fear of death, the deep and persistent suspicion that he wasn’t worthy of love - why stop now?

The warden considered him, his handsome face grim and somewhat drawn; that usual fiery spark gone from his warm eyes. Emmrich watched those eyes take note of the untouched tomato soup, then the tear tracks on his gaunt cheeks. “Assan is going stir-crazy, and honestly I think I am too. I thought I’d see if you and Manfred wanted to come for a walk with us. The fresh air and change of scenery might do you some good… inspire some grand epiphany or whatever you call it.”

The mockery of a smile slid off of Emmrich’s face. Davrin surely meant well, but even the fact that he’d asked was yet another painful reminder that she was gone. “Oh. That’s… that’s very kind of you to offer, Davrin, but I simply haven’t a moment to spare. Every second that passes is precious, and I believe I am nearing a breakthrough with the tuning of the metaphysical oscillations in the lyrium dagger… I dare not walk away now.”

It was a blatant and terrible lie: the dagger was on the other side of the room on his workbench where it had sat untouched for days. Despite this, Davrin seemed to possess the decency to pretend he bought the falsehood.

“You’re always on her case about taking care of herself - maybe consider taking your own advice, Emmrich: you can’t find a way to bring her back if you’re dead.”

There was truth in the warden’s words, but Emmrich struggled to feel bolstered by them.

If he had been the one to retrieve the dagger instead, he could be the one to die alone in the Fade, and she would still be here… safe. Broken hearted, surely… but she would recover.

#v writes #emmrook #emmrich x rook #emmrich romance #dragon age #datv #wip wednesday #wip #emmrich volkarin #emmrich #dragon age emmrich #datv spoilers #dragon age spoilers #veilguard spoilers #da:tv spoilers #dragon age the veilguard spoilers #emmrich romance spoilers

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wheneverfeasible · 5 months ago

Text

Let’s Do The Time Loop Again

Based on this post

wc: 1.1k || rating: T || cw: vague reference to suicide, mention of violence and injury || ship: Ronance || summary: Robin is stuck in a time loop. S4 AU || ao3

It should have been a simple thing. After all, she was supposed to be Smart with a capital S. Instead, they’d been having this same conversation every day for six months and the urge to strangle her was at an all time high. Still. At least the outcome was known now.

“Oh my god, I’m not into Steve!” Robin yelled, throwing her hands up in frustration. “You act like you’re so in-love with him but I really just think it’s because you can’t handle the fact that your first love is moving on and you can’t figure out how to break up with your boyfriend whom you no longer love!”

Other days, they’ve sat and talked about that. Nancy would reveal that she doesn’t miss Jonathan as much as she thought she should. That being apart was becoming easier every day. That she had her own goals in life and she couldn’t see a future with anyone who tried to limit her ambition or otherwise acted like an impediment, intentionally or otherwise.

Most days, however, it ended with Robin nudging Nancy to the news article she needed to make her discovery while dealing with the prickly girl feeling uneasy about Robin’s relationship with her ex-boyfriend.

Sometimes she told her the truth about herself, other days she simply denied it all like her first time before she got stuck, and other times she just got fed up and left. There was one thing she had never done before, however, and watching Nancy’s bitchy little face as she didn’t seem to fully accept that Robin and Steve weren’t a thing was the last straw.

Huffing a harsh breath, Robin reached out and tangled her fingers in Nancy’s hair as she pulled the girl towards her and smashed their lips together.

Honestly, she was expecting Nancy to push her away, maybe even slap or straight up punch her. It’s what Vickie had done more than once when Robin had first tried to make it work between them during all this, first tried to show Vickie that she could be a better boyfriend than her actual boyfriend. Before she had to finally admit that her infatuation wasn’t some great love story, that she and Vickie weren’t meant to be together, and she had to let her go.

Vickie had never fully accepted it anyways, accepted them, not even when Robin had tried to express her love and admiration with flowers and chocolates and the knowledge of the world’s imminent destruction. (The last part had probably been too much, all things considered.)

Instead, Nancy tensed momentarily, shocked and confused and frozen at the sudden action, and then she kissed back. A small gasp left her, which allowed Robin to slip her tongue in, and goodness, Nancy Wheeler was a fantastic kisser. When Robin finally (reluctantly) pulled back, Nancy’s eyes were closed, her head tilted slightly up, lips softly parted and pink.

When she finally blinked her eyes open, she stared dazedly at Robin. It was Robin’s turn to tense, to prepare to flee, even if she knew she’d be right back here as soon as Vecna killed her later, or on the off-chance this was one of the times they defeated him, when she woke up the next morning in the last.

She had thought, at the beginning, that it would all be over if they managed to defeat Vecna/Henry/One, but then they did, and then Robin was waking back up to the day Dustin stormed into Family Video to find Eddie. She was so tired of watching her friends die. She’d still sometimes have nightmares of watching Steve be beaten to death beneath Starcourt, of watching the light and life leave his eyes, his heart stop beating against hers.

It was so much worse watching it happen in reality. Steve, Nancy, Dustin, Eddie, Max, Lucas, even little Erica…she’d watched them all die over and over again and she had no idea why. Why she was the only one aware of what was happening. She had even tried to stop it herself, had taken herself out of the equation hoping that maybe that would release everyone else, but it never did.

“Oh.” Nancy’s cheeks slowly reddened as she looked up at Robin. Then, her lips slowly curled into a small smile. “Oh,” she repeated quietly, like everything was suddenly coming together in her mind. She let out a soft chuckle, then she reached out and lightly brushed her fingers over Robin’s. “Can we…discuss this later? After everything?”

Robin smiled, though it was tinged with sadness. She knew that there wasn’t a later, or an after. There was only an again.

She agreed though, and Nancy listened to her about where she should look in the records, and things continued on like normal. Nancy kept asking her opinion on things, however, which allowed Robin to steer things much more easily to one of the better outcomes. It was hard work, and it wasn’t without problems or injury, but they managed to save Max, save Eddie, saved everyone, and even defeated Vecna for good. Again.

She wondered sometimes why she still tried so hard, why she didn’t just curl in a ball and ignore everything, but she loved her friends too much for that. Loved Nancy too much for that, even though she knew that Nancy would never be able to return her feelings. Not when, in a few hours, Nancy would forget any of this had ever even happened.

“We did it,” Nancy breathed, fierce triumph in her eyes as she clutched Robin’s hand in a tight grip, bruised and bloodied but alive. For now. Robin turned to look at her, at the tear tracks down her grimy face even as she smiled, and Robin knew she was thinking about Barb, thinking that she had finally been avenged. For now.

“We did it,” Robin agreed, and she wanted to cry too. It wasn’t the best outcome they’d ever had before. Eddie had still been attacked by demobats, but he survived, if barely. Max still had broken limbs, but she wasn’t the final victim. Steve probably had another concussion, but he was breathing. Erica had a broken arm too, Dustin a broken ankle, and Lucas had just barely managed to avoid being shot but…the gates wouldn’t open this time. But there was always next time.

There was always a next time.

Nancy looked at her, and though she still seemed unsure about everything, she looked like she at least finally had the answer she was searching for. Robin knew how much it had hurt Steve when he thought Nancy was cheating on him, knew it wasn’t fair to Jonathan, but she also knew that whatever happened today didn’t count. It would only be her own heart breaking.

Robin, knowing this, drew Nancy towards her without her usual awkwardness, startling the other girl. She then leaned in to kiss Nancy again and let herself pretend, just for now, just for a little while, that everything was finally over.

Maybe, tomorrow, she’d kiss Nancy again too.

Disclaimer: this has originally been posted as a reblog to the linked post, but to make it easier on myself I am simply reposting it as its own thing with some edits.

Hostage tag: @derythcorvinus

Tagged because mention of interest: @absentminded001

#does she repeat it all again?#is it over?#maybe she wakes up the next morning with nancy’s arm around her waist #maybe she wakes up alone #who’s to say #time loop au #time loop #time loop ronance #ronance #ronance au #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #stranger things s4 au #stranger things #plot thots

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7nsomnia · 5 months ago

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can i ask, what’s wrong with dcc? i always hear that they kinda suck as a company, but from the vlogs i’ve seen, they’re one of the better companies. i’m not really as into dreamcatcher as some of the blogs on here even though i consider myself a stan, so i might not have the right information

okay. I feel like this is like opening my personal pandora box so this might be long. I'm pretty tired today so apologies in advance if this isn't very coherent asdkjh

dcc are a pretty decent company on a surface level, they treat the members well (which should be like the bare minimum for any company but I know that in this industry that's something to genuinely praise) and they actually change according/respond to negative feedback from the fandom etc when they or the members mess up (or they used to anyway).

for me it started in 2020 and how they handled handong's return. like the way they handled her absence was fine (good even, I would say), but the lack of hype for her actual return made things feel so underwhelming even though it was supposed to feel like a relief that she was finally back. I can't remember all the details anymore, but I do remember that the first time I felt like things were actually alright with dc was when they did the online concert crossroads in march of 2021. on that note I think most ppl were expecting ttol and dlm to be repackaged with ot7 versions and yet it's 2024 and they still haven't released them.

the handong stuff atp is water under the bridge tho, the group is fine, the members are fine, etc, I'm only mentioning it because that's when things started to feel really off for me.

so now we get into the actual things that happened that have left the fandom feeling burned out/frustrated/disconnected etc etc, whereas this happened to me at the end of 2022, I'm seeing more people now going through what I did back then:

I think the most pressing thing was that dcc didn't capitalize at all on dc's first win. they got their first win in april 2022 and didn't even do anything special in korea to commemorate it. it was a HUGE moment and they did nothing with it. usually after a group gets a first win you'll see them getting more promotions in korea, magazine photoshoots, mc deals, etc but dc just went on ahead to do festivals in europe and have a usa tour, these things are not bad but it was the lack of promotion in korea that in turn just made it all feel useless. that year dc also weren't invited to any end of year awards if I'm not mistaken so it all felt really disappointing and like all of the work we had as a fandom had been for nothing. I have to reiterate, dc/insomnias had been getting screwed over on music shows since 2019 with deja vu to get that first win, like I don't want to talk about the injustices the group and this fandom suffered through the years but it was a true story of resilience, so getting that first win in 2022 was a huge relief. to see it all going to waste was just... heartbreaking honestly.

when it comes to tours...... god I don't wanna get too much into it, but 4 tours in the usa in the span of 2 years is not normal. specially when they're prioritizing that over having a proper asia tour and the likes (AND promoting in korea??). latam tour is practically sold out rn and they're getting no merch or m&g benefits like the usa tour. I don't think doing exclusive things for a specific tour is bad per say, but you have to treat all your fans semi equally at least, specially for a group whose fanbase is majorly international (this will be important later), or it will happen what is happening rn which is ppl will leave the fandom. This is the first latam tour since 2019 (2017 for brazil!)... they've waited a really long time so personally (even tho this doesn't affect me bc I'm european) I feel like it's really disrespectful but wtv, onto other things.

now, speaking of the fanbase being majorly international, if this is the case, you'd think the company would make an effort to stream important events to their fans, like hmm the 7th anniversary concert perhaps? but nop, that didn't get streamed. a repetition of the dumbassery they did in 2022 where they split the concert and the members' solos in 2 days and only streamed one and so intl fans couldn't watch half the solo stages? and don't get me wrong, I think it's important that they have events that are korea only like they have the fansigns etc, but something as major as their 7th anniversary? when they've gotten here thanks to their international fans? that stings a little.

and lastly (maybe), we have dcc's usual lack of promotion during comebacks. fans always paying for ads, intl fans always doing the most for digitals even when it's Not their place (because this is smth that the korean fandom and dcc should be responsible for), fans having to reach out for vendors etc... Justice cb truly has been the culmination of the very worst promotions dcc has done tho and there have been some really bad promotions before... no radio shows, minimum interviews, barely any variety... were there even any ads? usually it's always fans paying out of pocket for ads. it just feels like throwing the members' and the company's work out the window for no good reason? Virtuous is one of their best albums and yet it feels like they just dumped it to go on tour again. I don't think that's necessarily a bad thing btw, having short promotions in korea is fine but like... promote for real? give your fandom content that they can watch and rewatch for however long it takes your group to have another cb? specially now that it seems that they're shifting to one album per year (not sure this is their wisest decision tho all things considered), you have to make sure that you promote that album properly? which kinda also goes with like, giving your fandom enough time to save for what you release and put out, specially if you're not trying to grow the fandom anymore. if they're dropping an album then don't announce a tour on top of that, and if they're announcing a tour then don't announce a photobook on top of that, and if they've just released an album then wait longer than a month to announce a photobook, and if they've just dropped a photobook then wait a bit longer until announcing the re print of albums the fans have been begging you for 6 years to re print LOL bc all this does is frustrate fans who can't make that much money in such a short time and it's stupid. like. in 2018 I dropped like 200 euros for like their very first photobook BECAUSE I had time to save that amount from their you and I cb (may) to whenever it was announced (I think it was august), and that was the highest tier (so you could get it for much cheaper) and bc back then it was like. well they barely release anything other than albums, so it's fine (also shipping was sooooooo much cheaper I miss it everyday, ofc this is not their fault tho but anyways).

lastly actually, oh my god. that stupid ass app where fans pay a subscription to message the members privately? has been the fucking worst thing to happen to this fandom and the members imo. if fans weren't respecting their boundaries before, it's even worse now. but it's also like. yeah the members should be reinforcing those boundaries, and I get wanting to at least make a buck of those problematic type of fans but I just don't think it has been good for the members at all. I won't elaborate too much on this because it will genuinely piss me the hell off but bottom line: that app has been hell for everyone genuinely there is no bright side to it other than dcc makes money out of it. and there's better ways to make money :))))))))

anyway this is over 1k words atp and somehow I feel like this all just the tip of the iceberg and I probably have forgotten many things bc tbh in the past year I've just. been trying to make peace with it all and just accept things for what they are because dc have been really special to me for such a long time and I just don't want dcc's decisions to make me throw all of that away (like I almost did). I love their music, I love the members, and so I will continue to celebrate wtv right decisions dcc makes but I'm not going to pretend that they're a good company when it comes to business decisions bc they're really not

#not gonna proof read all of this but yeah #hope this all makes some sense at least #ask

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yeonzzzn · 1 year ago

Text

💔i hate that i want you: jungkook x reader | losing him | warnings: heart break

i’m always tired but never of you…

[1.9k words] ☆ [pls do not repost]

losing him was probably the hardest thing you’ve ever had to deal with.

it’s been months but the smell of his cologne still filled the air of the apartment you both once shared.

the shirt he left behind still barely smelled like his skin, you refusing to wash it being scared it’ll lose its scent.

you missed him. more than you wanted to admit or even speak out loud.

you hated the fact of you missing him. you hate that you find yourself not being able to sleep because you aren’t wrapped in his arms.

you hate that you still reach for his coffee cup every single damned morning ready to pure it full of his favorite but only to be disappointed of not feeling the glass with your fingertips in the cabinet.

you hate catching yourself staring off into space at the chair he once sat at while twirling your fork around on the plate of food not being able to eat.

you hate him. hate with a capital H A T E. but yet you still miss every part of him.

even the annoying parts, like how every morning he’d roll over and tickle you until you woke up, how he’d tease you over how much of a nerd you were for astronomy, how he’d leave his dirty dishes around the apartment in random places, how poorly he’d fold the towels fresh out of the dryer. the list goes on.

driving alone was one of the hardest parts to deal with. you missed him in your front seat always messing with the radio or using the aux to play his own music. missed how he’d rest his hand on your thigh and gently rub his thumb against your skin and sing along to every song that blasted through the speakers.

but now it’s you and an empty front seat.

you missed riding with him in his car, he’d always let you Bluetooth your phone to the radio(his car obviously being a better model than yours, because yuck using an aux s u c k s) and playing all your favorite songs. he’d laugh at you singing off key and still say you had a beautiful singing voice. you missed holding his hand while he drove and how every once in a while he’d lift your hands and connect his lips to the top of your hand, his eyes not leaving the road.

but now your spot in his front seat is empty, or so you hoped.

your best friend has tried to talk you into leaving the apartment and moving back home with your parents, but you always refused.

“come on y/n!” your best friend groaned slapping her hands to her thighs, “you can’t go on like this! i’m sure your parents would love to take you back in! you can even stay with me if it’s a must!”

you’d just continue to shake your head in refusal, “I can’t just leave…”

you’ve tried looking for other apartments, but the thought of you even leaving this one killed you. you wanted to leave, but knew you couldn’t.

sometimes you sit around and wonder if he ever misses you as much as you miss him.

if he misses waking up to you, misses coming home to you every night after long days of working. misses the endless nights of crying together over bad days. misses holding you tightly against him. miss the silly jokes and chasing you around the apartment. the nights of endless lust and your voice calling out his name while pressing him closer to your bare body. the warm morning showers and washing each others hair and purposely washing each other’s hair wrong to irritate the other. the nights of binge-watching all the harry potter movies and Marvel films.

god knows how much you hate yourself for missing all those moments and hoping that he missed them too.

it’s been so long since you’ve last heard his voice, but you can remember it as clear as day.

you remember the sadness in his voice, the tears that filled his eyes, the trembling of his hands as he held yours for the last time.

you remember hearing the last words he spoke to you and remember feeling your heart break into pieces.

“it just…won’t work y/n,” he released his hands from yours, breaking eye contact and staring off at the fully packed boxes filled with his things, “it hurts me, trust me..but this is for the best.”

you clenched your shirt remembering the painful memory. “I hate him I hate him I hate him.”

you used to take late night walks with him when you both couldn’t sleep, it’s how you two met actually.

the college dorms were too noisy one friday night, keeping you from sleep and sleep from you.

pissed and irritated you changed into your leggings and throwing your favorite hoodie on and stepping into your white converse then quickly bouncing out of your dorm room.

the hallway was filled with drunk kids who were barely legal adults to even be drinking.

you scoffed at their loudness, how could people be this loud?

you found yourself walking in the courtyard, seeing another figure in the distance walking in your direction.

his face was hidden with the hood of his jacket pulled over his head and him keeping his eyes locked with the ground.

you were hoping he’d just keep walking and not even notice you, but the moment you hoped for that, he glances up seeing you.

“can’t sleep either huh?” his tired voice spoke.

you noticed he stopped in front of you, forcing yourself to stop in your tracks.

you scanned him, scanned his dark chocolate eyes, dark fluffy hair. tight skinny jeans and black timberlands.

he gave you and soft smile, having you picture him as a soft bunny.

not letting your guard down, you just slowly nod at him, “yeah, the dorms are filled with drunken idiots who don’t know what peace and quiet is.”

he chuckled, nodding in response, “I feel that.”

you nodded again pressing your lips into a thin line, ready to walk around him and continue your middle of the night walk.

“you know it’s not safe to walk around by yourself this late at night.” he said, knowing as if you were about to ditch his ass in the middle of the courtyard.

you raised a brow, “you saying since i’m a female I can’t take care of myself?”

he quickly shook his head, “no no!” he raised his hands up in defense, “I didn’t mean it that way, you look as if you could totally kick my ass.”

“then what exactly do you mean?” you crossed your arms shifting your weight to your left side.

“I mean that walking around alone isn’t safe because if a group of people, or drunken idiots, decided to gang up on you, you couldn’t take them all on your own.”

“then why are you walking around alone then?” you snapped.

he smiled softly again glancing down at the ground, “I was hoping to find someone else. someone to take walks with, I guess.”

his words hit your heart, probably harder than they should have.

“well…maybe we can walk together then.” you said softly, playing with your fingers out of nervous habit.

“i’d actually really love that.” he said in response.

and since then he’d call you in the middle of the night asking for late night walks.

the two of you connected quicker than expected. you knew for a fact you were the one that got attached first.

you found yourself purposely acting cold to see if he’d wrap his arms around you or even offer you his hoodie.

you found yourself missing him before you even realized you were missing him.

but soon enough, you started to realize the attachment he had to you also.

you’d never forget the way he asked you to date him.

or the way his lips felt the first time he kissed you.

you’d never thought the day would come where you’d no longer have the feeling of him on your lips.

tonight was the first time taking a late night walk in months.

you always thought taking a walk without him was wrong, but tonight was the exception.

pulling your phone from your pocket, you dialed his number, your thumb hovering over the send call button.

you wanted to call him, to talk to him. have him come along on this walk and see how much he missed this.

but you quickly locked your phone and shoved it back in your pocket.

ten minutes have passed as you walked past the coffee shop the two of you used to go to when you both were too lazy to make coffee that morning. seeing the chair and table you two always sat at.

you instantly pulled your phone back out and redials his number, pressing call and holding the phone to your ear, listening to the ringing.

“sorry to miss your call! leave a message and i’ll ring ya back!”

you ended the call after hearing his voice mail. your heart broke at hearing his voice, but you always found yourself smiling knowing that his voicemail was still the same.

the two of you sat around for hours helping each other with voicemails.

you sighed, thinking he’s probably sound asleep.

or so you thought until you heard his laugh.

you froze in place, glancing across the street to see his well-known figure. his hood over his head, his typical timberlands, and skinny jeans with a white tee shirt.

his laugh was followed by the voice of his friends and then softly pushing on each other.

it broke your heart to see them all together. you missed his friends as well, they were at one point your best friends also.

you couldn’t move from your frozen place, eyes locked onto him, half wanting him to notice you and the other half not wanting him to see you at all.

he looks at the ground, then up and over in your direction, his smile slowly fading at seeing you.

his eyes that were just smiling were now filled with pain.

he stopped walking, turning and facing you.

he took deep breaths, seeing you after months was killing him. his heartaches and all he wanted to do was rush across the street and wrap you in his arms.

but he knew he couldn’t.

“why wouldn’t it work Jungkook?!” you softly spoke with a shaky voice, it was clear as day that your heart was broken just as much as his.

“because i’m holding you back from a future you need. I can’t give you the things you’d want. i’m just some music major and there’s no for sure when it comes to this. you’re going to be an amazing doctor someday and I can’t hold you back.” jungkook responded.

he believed leaving you was for the best of your future, but he didn’t realize how much he’d mess up your future.

he kept staring at you, and you finally decided to unfreeze yourself and rush to him, that was until his attention was taken back by his friends. he jogged to catch up to them, leaving you alone.

never would he ever leave you stranded alone this late at night.

but there was a first time for everything.

“I hate you, Jungkook. I hate that I love you. I hate you I hate you I hate you,” you whispered watching him continue to walk down the street, “I hate that I want you still.”

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