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#i wonder if their childs name would also start with b!
sigyns-drafts · 4 months
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Norse Religion & Lore Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Freyr | Frey/Gerðr | Gerd (Norse Religion & Lore), Beyla/Byggvir (Norse Religion & Lore) Characters: Freyr | Frey (Norse Religion & Lore), Gerðr | Gerd (Norse Religion & Lore), Byggvir (Norse Religion & Lore), Beyla (Norse Religion & Lore), Fjölnir | Fjolner (Norse Religion & Lore) Additional Tags: Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Romance, Picnics, Family Dynamics, Kissing, Gentle Kissing, Cuddling & Snuggling, Servants, Relationship Discussions, plans on expanding the family, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Gerðr | Gerd (Norse Religion & Lore), References to Norse Religion & Lore, One Shot, Flirting, Lovey-Dovey Summary:
Freyr after watching as his married servants Byggvir and Beyla work so hard and passionately to insure his fields, gardens and animals stay in good shape and health.
The god took pity on them and their love life, so much in fact he had decided it was time to give them a day off and asks Gerdr, his partner to prepare a basket filled with their favorite foods!
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charlieeenby · 3 months
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meeting robin
the justice league is happy that batman is socializing, but they're worried that he doesn't seem to notice when robin is switched out every few years
warnings and tags: miscommunication but it's funny, alien invasion, mentioned violence
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“Batman,” Clark said slowly, “why do you have a second heartbeat?”
Instead of responding, Batman grunted.
“A second heartbeat?” Barry questioned, zipping over. “How would that even work?”
Another grunt from Batman.
“Batman?”
“I don’t.”
“But I can hear a second heartbeat coming from you.” Clark said, confused.
“It’s not mine.”
Barry choked. “Huh? Who is it then?”
“Robin’s.”
Clark frowned. “Who’s Robin?”
Batman grunted again, and Barry groaned.
“Come on, man!”
Then, Batman’s cape, which hid his entire body, shifted. Clark heard a small giggle. A child popped out, beaming.
“I’m Robin!” he exclaimed, clearly excited to be there. Barry was startled and jumped back a bit.
“What the f-” he stopped short when Batman glared at him. “Fudge?”
“Batman, what is…who is this?” Clark asked.
“This is Robin.” Batman said, like it explained anything.
“We got that. Why is he here?”
Robin bounced. “I’m gonna help!” he said, and Clark caught an accent he couldn’t quite place.
“Help?”
This got him a nod. “Yeah. B said I was ready to meet the Justice League!”
“Who’s B?”
Robin squinted at Barry’s question. Then pointed up at Batman. “B.”
“Batman, where’s Robin?” Diana asked, surprised the young vigilante wasn’t with Batman.
“He’s busy. Couldn’t come.” Batman said, and Diana got the sense that there was something that Batman wasn’t saying to her, but she decided to leave it be.
“I see. Is he alright?”
“Fine. Work.” Batman seemed to be giving short answers again, something he’d stopped doing after Robin had shown up.
“Well, tell him we all missed him, please.”
Batman grunted.
“Batman, what happened to Robin?” Barry questioned, staring at the small boy that had replaced the teen they’d watched grow up. This one seemed shy, half hidden behind Batman.
“Nothing.”
“Well something had to have happened, Robin was a lot taller last time we saw him.” Clark said, also watching the boy. “That’s not the same person.”
“No.” Batman said in an almost growl.
“Huh?” Barry said, confused.
“That’s not the Robin we know. That’s someone else.” Clark said.
“We’re ready to start.” Diana said from behind Batman and Robin, the latter of which startled by her.
Clark heard a quiet ‘woah’ from the boy and smiled. He must be a fan of Wonder Woman.
The Justice League and Robin shuffled into the meeting room, Robin sitting in a chair very close to Batman.
For the entire meeting, he sat quietly, mostly watching Diana with obvious wonder across his face.
Afterwards, Diana approached him, kneeling down to his level.
“Hello. My name is Diana.”
“H-hi.”
“How long have you been Robin?” she asked gently.
“Uh,” he looked up at Batman, who nodded encouragingly to the small boy. “A few months.”
“And are you enjoying it?”
Robin nodded. “Yeah. It’s fun and we get ta help people.'' This boy had an accent as well, though it was quite different from the first Robin’s.
“That’s wonderful.” Diana said. “We’re excited to work with you, Robin.” the kid beamed, looking like he was having the best day of his life.
“Batman, what the fuck?” Barry exclaimed, ignoring the various looks he got at the curse. “Why did Robin get smaller again?”
“Because I’m a different person.” Robin said.
“But he just replaced the first one like, two years ago!”
“Four, actually.”
“Batman? Could you explain, please?” Diana asked.
They got a grunt in response.
Clark sighed. “Batman, please, can you explain this?”
Robin scoffed. “Are you stupid?”
“Robin.” Batman’s tone had a warning in it.
“There’s nothing to explain.”
A grunt.
“Batman, Robin is a girl.” Hal said, confused and done with the entire thing.
“Is that a problem, fuckface?” The entire League took a step back, surprised by this Robin’s language.
“No, of course not. I’m just surprised, that’s all.” Hal said, trying to recover.
Robin huffed before turning back to Batman.
“Language, Robin.” was Batman’s response.
“Oh, come on, I coulda said a whole lot worse.” Her accent reminded Clark of the second Robin’s accent, though more pronounced.
“Tell that to Agent A.”
Robin gasped. “You wouldn’t!”
Batman grunted, though this sounded like one of his amused grunts.
“Fiiine.” She turned to Hal. “I'm sorry for calling you a fuckface.” that got a sigh from Batman.
She turned back to Batman. “Happy?”
Batman grunted again, and while Robin seemed content, Clark and the rest of the league had no idea what it meant.
“Oh my god, this one has a sword!” Hal screeched, running into the meeting room.
“Who does?” Diana asked, standing.
“Robin! Batman got a new one and he has a sword! He tried to stab me!”
“If I had tried to stab you, you would have been stabbed.” a small voice said from the doorway.
Everyone looked over to find Robin, scowling and glaring at all of them.
“He looks just like Batman.” Barry whispered, and Clark agreed. The boy in front of them had an uncanny similarity to Batman.
“Of course I look like him, I’m his son.” Robin snapped, and there were various gasps around the room.
“His son?” Barry’s pitch was high enough that Clark winced.
“Yes.”
“Robin.” Batman appeared behind Robin, frowning at the small boy and looking more annoyed then concerned. “Please don’t stab them. They are our allies, not our enemies.”
Robin looked annoyed, glaring at the Justice League. “Fine.”
“Go sit.” Batman said, nudging the boy towards a chair.
Clark looked up when the computer whirred to life.
“Recognized, Nightwing, B-0-1. Recognized, Red Robin, B-0-3. Recognized, Spoiler, B-0-4. Recognized, Robin, B-0-5.”
Clark stood and walked over to the zeta tube, staring at the four people that stepped out.
“Hey, Supes!”
“Who are you?” he asked, confused.
“We’re-” the one in black and blue started, but was interrupted by the one in red.
“We’re looking for Batman. It’s an emergency.” he stated, matter of fact. “Where is he?”
Clark hesitated. He didn’t know these people or how they got into the tower to begin with, but he wasn’t keen on taking them to Batman.
He didn’t have time to make a decision before the zeta tube started again.
“Recognized, Red Hood, B-0-2.”
He knew that Red Hood was a crime lord, how was the computer recognizing him?
“Where’s B?” Hood asked as soon as he was through.
“We’re still working on that.”
Hood groaned. “What part of ‘emergency’ did you not understand?”
The person dressed in purple scoffed. “We just got here and Superman is in the way. You wanna fight Superman?”
Hood looked over at Clark. “Hi.”
“Hi. What’s going on?”
“We need Batman. Got a bit of an emergency.”
Clark frowned and looked down at Robin. “Robin, what is going on? Who are these people?”
Robin scoffed. “Hood and Red Robin both informed you of what is going on, Superman. I didn’t know you were that dense.”
At least he knew the name of one of the new ones.
“Alright. Just, stay here, okay?”
“Fine.” Robin snapped, looking annoyed.
Clark went over to the chair he’d been in and hit the intercom. “Batman, you’re needed by the zeta tubes.”
A few minutes later, Batman appeared. When he saw the assortment of vigilantes, he sighed loudly.
“What happened?” he asked, sounding tired.
“We are being attacked by aliens.” the one in purple said.
Clark frowned and Batman shook his head.
“So you came up here to tell me instead of using the coms? Why?”
“Well, the com lines are down.” Hood said. “So yes, we came up here.”
“B, we really need to go take care of the aliens. Can we go?” the one in black and blue asked.
“Yes. Go, I’ll be down in a minute.” Batman said, still just sounding mildly inconvenienced instead of like someone who was just informed of an alien invasion.
As soon as they were all gone, Clark rounded on Batman. “What the hell? Who are they?”
Batman grunted. “Notify the rest of the League, then get down there.” he walked away, and left through the zeta tube.
Clark sighed and did as Batman had asked.
“Will you explain this now?” Clark asked, waving at the group of vigilantes that all said they worked with Batman, despite the League only knowing about Robin.
Batman just grunted and Clark was about to lose it, but then Batman said, “Robin.”
Clark stopped. “Huh?”
“Nightwing was the first Robin, Hood the second, Red Robin the third, and Spoiler the fourth. Orphan was never Robin, but she was Batgirl. Signal is new and has only ever been Signal.
“What the fuck?” Barry exclaimed. “I thought they all died!”
Hood raised his hand. “I did die.”
Batman sighed at that.
“Did he really?” Clark asked.
“Yes. But he’s fine now.”
“Am I?”
Batman groaned.
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six-eyed-samurai · 30 days
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Yo I think something glitched when I was making the header...didn't crop properly. Anyway, enjoy this trash and I'm sorry if it's not up to my usual standard but I just got the random idea in the middle of the night!
Note: Reader is pregnant, so therefore fem and if it makes you uncomfortable I apologise but don't read
Everyone was convinced Tomioka Giyuu hated you right from the start.
You were first introduced to the Hashira when Oyakata-sama called them all for a meeting on the latest reports of demon activity, but requested them all to stay a little longer before being dismissed. Amane gestured for you to come forward with a gentle smile and you shuffled out of the shadows with your hands clasped together in nervousness but with a bright bream upon your face. The Hashira’s eyes caught yours in surprise, wondering if you were perhaps a new Kakushi since you weren’t wearing a slayer uniform, but instead a traditional (f/c) yukata.
Then their eyes strayed downwards and changed their minds about that, but nonetheless still remained in confusion.
“This is our newest member, (y/n) (y/l/n), the (b/f) Hashira. She was supposed to join our ranks quite some months ago but due to her sudden pregnancy she will for now be an honorary member.”
The only sign of your anxiety was the blush on your cheeks and the hand rubbing at your swollen abdomen. “Hi everyone! I’m so happy to meet you all! I won’t be on the battlefield for some time and I’m sorry I can’t fight alongside you for now, but I look forward to getting to know you all. If you need anything, I’m always at the (e/n) Estate.”
The ice was broken and you were immediately approached by many of the Hashira. Himejima-san cried and wished you and your child good health, making you feel a little embarrassed but thanked him anyway. The Mist Pillar Tokito simply stared at you, then at the sky, then at you again before asking what were you doing here again (later on, he startled you by appearing behind and questioning you in that airheaded manner of his if he could talk to the baby).
You were also tackled by the Love Pillar who introduced herself as Kanroji Mitsuri and your new best friend as well as the calmer Insect Pillar, Kocho Shinobu, who despite slightly unnerving you with her smile touched you greatly when she said you could always stop by the Butterfly Mansion for checkups or simply a visit.
“How far along are you?”
“About five months, I think!”
“KYAAAAAAAAAAH! Your baby is going to be so cute! What’s it’s name? Do you know if it’s a he or a she yet? I can’t wait to be an aunt!”
“Heh, I’m not too sure yet, but I have a feeling it’s going to be a boy!”
Mitsuri squealed again, causing you to laugh at her genuine happiness. She whipped her head behind her and called out to the silently glowering Snake Pillar. “Iguro-san, don’t you think the baby will be cute? I really wish I’ll have some of my own one day!”
You and Shinobu shared a smirk as the Wind Pillar grumpily slapped his friend’s back and dragged the furiously red Iguro away, muttering viciously about not wasting any more time in hunting a Twelve Kizuki.
“Oh look, there's Tomioka-san. Why hasn't he come and said hello yet?”
“Ah well, a lone friendless wolf as always.” Shinobu didn't see you originally visibly brighten at Mitsuri’s words and turn surprised at hers.
Indeed Tomioka was standing awkwardly as always a little - long, actually - way off. What was not as always was that horrified, slack jawed look on his face instead of his usual blank, emotionless one.
“Tomioka-san? Are you alright? You've been making that face for a long time already…” Shinobu's eye twitched, but you didn't notice, suddenly preoccupied with Muichiro’s intense questioning of whether he could play with the baby when it was born.
“She shouldn't be a Hashira.”
The remaining Hashira found themselves narrowing their eyes at the Water Pillar's blunt, if not rude, words.
That would be just one of the many events that further convinced them of his intense dislike of you.
***
You started going over a lot to the Butterfly Mansion over then next few months, becoming a fast favorite among the girls for your cheerful attitude and your baby; even Kanao cracked a smile at you when you came around. When the other Hashira arrived to be healed you always made it a point to go pay them a visit and in turn you pretty soon had every one of them in your back pocket, including the harsh, loudmouthed Wind Pillar Shinazugawa who constantly gave you a jolt with the complete 360 with his attitude around you, to the point you could call him a good friend.
Being friends with him usually meant hearing him grumble about the stupid waterboy.
“Why doesn’t he ever look at you anyway, turning away like that. So rude, that little (beep) (beep) (beep)-”
“Eheh, Shinazugawa-san, don’t swear so loudly, he’ll hear you!”
You had stopped by to Sanemi’s room when Shinobu had mentioned he was there to be patched up after a mission and knowing how busy she was, had offered to go help change his bandages with the basic medical knowledge you had picked up over the years of being a slayer. Reluctantly she had agreed and so here you were, chatting away with him until he spotted Tomioka passing by (he poked his head in actually, otherwise Sanemi would never have noticed him) and started complaining about him once more, especially when you had called out to him and Tomioka had simply whipped his head to the side to stare into the distance.
Really, Sanemi wasn’t the only one to notice how Tomioka avoided you like the plague with that stupid, vacant, red expression of his.
“He’s just shy, he doesn’t mean to be rude!” You defended the poor Pillar, continuing with rewinding the new wrappings.
“Tch, you should see how he acts at the meetings, like he’s better than us or something,” was the growling reply. “(beep) doesn’t know how to (beep) talk with anyone with his (beep) attitude.”
“I don’t think he thinks he’s better than all of you, maybe it’s just something else,” You hum, finishing up. “That’s all! I’m glad the demon didn’t go any further than a scratch.”
Shinazugawa grunted, then his gaze caught yours and softened. “By the way, who’s the dad?”
“Oh, it’s -”
“(y/n)-san!” Three heads peeked in from the door shyly. “Can you come and play with us?”
“Of course! Bye, Shinazugawa!”
Like always the reply was only a “tch”.
***
Another thing was that he never stopped repeating what he said at the first time everyone met you: “She shouldn’t be a Hashira”, going as far as to attempt to prevent you from wielding a sword, although this was only noticed by Tanjiro.
You had agreed to the Kamaboko Squad’s requests (aka demands by Inosuke and begging from Zenitsu) to train together, despite Tanjiro’s worries which you brushed off. The boys were very rambunctious and did tire you out quite a bit, but you were having so much fun and they were so eager you just went on sparring with them until even Inosuke muttered a plead for a quick break, unable to beat your incredible swordsmanship.
“(y/n)-chan!!! Who’s the lucky guy you married?! You never told us and I want to know how he managed to score someone so beautiful like you so I can do it with Nezuko-chan!” Zenitsu simpered, scooting closer, ignoring Tanjiro’s scandalized look.
“What’s married?” Inosuke’s voice was muffled underneath his boar mask and the mountain of onigiri you had brought he was stuffing into his mouth, so none of you heard him.
You giggle, placing a hand on your stomach. “He’s very sweet, although he’s honestly very shy and doesn’t talk much. I’m sure you’ve met him before! Can you guess?”
“Woah, really?” Tanjiro brightened, wondering who it could be, but his next question was interrupted by an interrogative monotone.
“What are you doing? You shouldn’t be training.” Tomioka stood in front of them, the first time anyone had seen him interact with you without just staring at the ground. His face was as empty as the void but there was a tiny crease between his eyebrows and Tanjiro didn’t have to inhale to smell the worry reeking off him.
“I didn’t know you were so concerned about (y/n)-chan, Tomioka-san.” Zenitsu’s eyebrows shot up, disappearing under his hair while he glowered judgmentally.
Tomioka made no reply, only swiftly grabbing and removing the sword from your hand. “She shouldn’t be a Hashira, much less train. You nearly died fighting a demon not too long ago, you’re in no shape to be doing this.”
With that he abruptly walked off and left Zenitsu and Inosuke to scream at him for being such an un-gentleman and for not fighting with them while you looked away sadly.
Tanjiro wondered why he didn’t once smell dislike on Tomioka. Only fear.
***
“What’s he got against (l/n)?” Obanai joined in on the conversation from his perch on the tree. He’d look for reasons to hate against the Water Pillar all the time, but unlike the others this time round his hatred was justified.
Tengen rolled his eyes flamboyantly. “I know! He’s constantly acting like she’s a pest to be around, but she doesn’t seem to have beef with him. What’s wrong with that bland creature?”
“Oh come on! We don’t actually know if he hates her,” Rengoku protested mildly.
“Then why does he keep refusing to even make eye contact with her?”
“I mean, Iguro, you can’t talk, you only ever look at Kanroji” - Obanai turned away, blushing furiously as Tengen cackled - “but I get your point. The other day I walked in on them arguing. I can’t believe he would keep reminding her of past failures without keeping her current state in mind!”
“Perhaps he only wants to try and convince her to stay safe during this time and discourage her from slaying for now?”
“Rengoku, my best buddy, you’re too optimistic.”
“There’s no other reason he’d give her the cold shoulder 24/7.”
Soon the conversation drifted to other topics, but little would they know Rengoku was the closest to the truth…
***
Shinobu already had enough on her hands with all the screaming, panic and blood, but of course Tomioka just had to show up at the most inopportune moment.
It had been a relatively quiet day as the two of you sat on the engawa, exchanging war stories over tea when with a sudden cry you had doubled over in pain. Your water had broken and you were heading into labour - quickly.
Just barely the Insect Pillar had managed to get you to a bed and sent the Butterfly Girls scurrying for the necessities, hiding her uneasiness at the slight earliness of your boy’s arrival to keep you calm and help you through it. You were doing well under her coaxing to use Total Concentration Breathing, and thankfully Shinazugawa was still around to help you relax with a familiar face.
Then Aoi had burst in with a frantic expression and thundering footsteps from behind that certainly weren’t hers.
“Shinobu-san, Tomioka is demanding to be let in-”
“Keep him out!” Shinobu grimaced, returning her attention to you. She’s heard and seen what he’s like around you, and other than the fact he has no business to be here she didn’t want to send you into a further state of panic. “He doesn’t like her, and if he opens that mouth of his to say anything more I might be responsible for two deaths.”
You dug your nails into Sanemi’s proffered hand, screaming in pain. He winced but said nothing, only looking up with a determined look in his eyes at Shinobu. “I’ll go keep Tomioka out, just make sure she delivers safely.”
Without waiting for a reply Sanemi rushed out to bar the doorway, leaving Shinobu to assure and handle your birthing with the anxious assistance of the Butterfly Girls. The pain in your stomach was surely abominable, intolerable, and Shinobu found herself growing more alarmed with every minute the baby wasn’t coming out.
“(y/n), I need you to push harder, alright? Can you do that for me?”
“N-no - where is he?”
“Your husband? I’ll get someone to call him, don’t worry,” Shinobu lied with dawning horror that in the entire time she had known you…she had no actual idea who you were married to. “But he wouldn’t like you see you like this, right? You can do it. Just keep your breathing under control.”
“JUST (beep) OFF, TOMIOKA!” Shinazugawa’s voice bellowed through the Mansion. His stocky form soon appeared, stubbornly acting as an indomitable barrier against the equally stubborn Tomioka who was desperately trying to barge his way through.
“Tomioka, we don’t need unnecessary people here to worry (y/n) more-”
”THAT’S MY WIFE!”
Whether it was because Tomioka had never raised his voice before or the sheer shock of it all or the fact you reached out for his hand, Shinobu and Sanemi let him through.
***
“I thought I was going to lose you when I heard you screaming like that from outside.” Giyuu nuzzled deeper into your neck, absently stroking your baby’s tiny hand. “Don’t scare me like that again.”
You played with the strands of his hair with a teasing smirk. “You did to, banging into the room like that, with the “That’s my wife!”. It was very romantic of you, Giyuu~”
“I was in a rush.” Giyuu smacked his face into the pillow, embarrassed while you laugh.
“Ara ara~ Are you both done cuddling? I want to perform a quick checkup on your baby now, if you don’t mind, and all the Hashira are here to ask you a lot of things, Tomioka.” Shinobu stood at the doorway with her customary smile, a twitching eye and crossed arms. Behind her were the shadows of the others trying to peek over her shoulder or head into the room to congratulate you on your baby or beat up Tomioka (both for some).
“Ask about what?” Giyuu lifted up his head in confusion. You snort at his obliviousness, cooing at your precious sleeping baby before gently passing him to Shinobu.
“MAYBE ABOUT HOW (Y/N) IS YOUR WIFE AND YOU NEVER TOLD US?”
“KYAAAAAAAAAH! That’s so cute of you, Tomioka!”
“Do you hate us all or something?!”
“No…? No one asked and I thought (y/n) would have told you,” Giyuu said blankly, glancing at you with wide blue eyes. You sheepishly raised your shoulders.
“I tried to tell them but we kept getting interrupted or had no chance.”
“You did make us all think you hated (y/n) with your behaviour, Tomioka.” Shinobu raised an eyebrow. “After all, you rarely spoke to her and when you did it was only to reprimand her, but I can see now it was probably out of worry for your child and her…although rather harshly.”
“Oh!” You burst out laughing, shaking so hard you nearly couldn’t take back your awakening baby Shinobu was handing over. “Giyuu’s just very shy! See-”
You pressed a quick peck to his cheek.
giyuu.exe has stopped working.
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bats-and-the-birds · 2 months
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I like to think about young Dick Grayson a lot, and right now I'm specifically thinking about him from the Justice League's perspective.
Like, imagine you're in the Justice League, maybe you've been there for a few months, maybe for a few years, but either way, you know how it works. Superman's terrifyingly powerful, but you get over the fear factor as soon as you see him cry over a sad cat video, and Wonder Woman's still a bit intimidating, but as long as you're good and truthful, you can trust that she won't crush your head like a grape.
And Batman... well, you've made your peace with the fact that you'll never figure him out. You know literally nothing about him, other than the fact that he claims to be fully human, but you're not even really sure about that, because you're pretty sure he just materializes in the shadows sometimes. The only things that you're 100% sure of is that you're terrified of him, and you're so glad that he's not on someone else's side.
And then, suddenly, he has acquired a child. Just like everything else, you don't find out immediately, because god forbid that man tell his team anything. But you start to hear vague reports of another shadow trailing behind Batman in the night. Superman asks him about it one day, but of course, he doesn't respond, and they all wonder, but it never gets brought up again.
But one day, unexpectedly, that shadow is at a league meeting, and he's not as shadowy as you would have thought. In fact, he's wearing the most vibrant costume you've seen, and you spend all of your time with other heroes in spandex. He's also young. Terrifyingly young. It's his twelfth birthday, actually, he explains to the league, and he pestered 'B' until he agreed to take him to a meeting. You all agree later that he looks younger than twelve. And you worry about him, because why is this child in Batman's care? Can he really be trusted to look after someone so small, so young, so seemingly fragile?
Besides, Robin (Robin, his name is Robin, he's a songbird for christ's sake), is everything that you'd think Batman would hate. He talks everyone's ear off with a giant grin stretched across his entire face. He begs Superman to fly him around and cackles and claps as Wonder Woman demonstrates basic sword maneuvers for him. Before long, the whole team is in a better mood. Meanwhile, Batman stands in the shadows, his face impassive, with no explanation about the little masked boy that walked into the room hiding under his cape.
He leaves just as he came, disappearing under Batman's cape as the two exit the watchtower together, and the whole league is left to wonder how the fuck that child ended up in Batman's care, and whether or not they should intervene, because spending prolonged time in Batman's company cannot be healthy for a child.
But then he starts showing up more and more, popping up in some places that you know from Batman's glare he's not supposed to be. He's teamed up with that speedster boy and the two of them cause havoc, but Robin takes the lecture he gets with a grin and gives a half hearted promise to behave.
You steadily start to realize that he might not be as out of place in Batman's company as you originally thought. You realize that the boy is a performer through and through, and that extends to that grin of his that dazzled the team when they first met him. You get the impression that sometimes its genuine, yes, but you'd never know if it wasn't. His exuberance is a persona held in place as meticulously as Batman's grim seriousness.
And though you'd assumed that Batman's sidekick (partner, the boy insisted, rather intensely, though his smile never faltered) would be well trained, this kid could take down league members, you're sure. You quickly realize that he enjoys fighting, and he fights viciously, giggling and putting on a show, but leaving broken bones in his wake. Your first impression is that Robin was more human than the demon they called the Batman, but you quickly start to question that too. If Batman can materialize in shadows, then Robin can fly. He twists through the air like gravity doesn't affect him and lands with so much grace that you'd think he had hollow bones like his namesake. You're not fully convinced he doesn't, considering he climbs up the bat with no warning, clinging onto his back like he belongs there (you quickly start to think he does), or he'll throw himself through the air with no more warning than a quick 'catch' yelled to his partner. And Batman catches him. Batman always catches him. Everyone keeps an eye on him when he's up high, but there's a part of you that feels like it's impossible that he'd ever fall. Or at least, impossible that Batman would ever let him hit the ground.
And you start to think that Robin's exactly where he's supposed to be; perched on Batman's shoulder, hiding in his cape, or fighting by his side. You still hope there's a normal boy behind the mask, going to school and making friends with someone to tuck him in at night, but you also can't imagine anything normal about Robin, and maybe that's why he needs to be by Batman's side, and maybe that's why Batman needs him too.
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iloveavatar · 1 year
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a mothers instinct
neteyam x fem! reader
this is when the reader and neteyam are kids! also this is just something short (hopefully people are ok with that)
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neteyam was always a wonderful kid.
the type of kid to always be happy about anything and everything.
neytiri never had an issue with her eldest. he has always laughing at something she did or something jake said that he found absolutely hilarious.
neytiri soon realized that neteyam was curious about the forest animals.
how they grew, what they looked like, how they responded to na’vi, etc.
he asked her if they could look for a specific type of thing in the forest. except neytiri had an issue… seeing as the one thing he wanted to go find was in fact not an animal.
he wanted to find another na’vi.
neytiri tried explaining to him that the na’vi children weren’t just hiding in the forest.
but neteyam insisted they go look.
he wanted to find another na’vi.
one by the name of y/n.
neytiri was quite confused as to who y/n was. however she still followed her eldest child deep into the forest where he was leading her.
they soon stopped at a small tree.
the tree was slightly glowing, the leaves were different shades of green and blue. the height of the plant was just tall enough where the top reached neytiris waist.
neteyams little tail was flickering back and forth in anticipation. his eyes darting around with hope of seeing his new friend.
“neteyam why have we stopped? there’s nothing here honey?” neytiri questioned with a confused look on her face.
“this is where y/n told me to meet her! she’s super pretty, just wait mom!” he excitedly said, slightly bouncing with joy.
neytiri decided to try and listen for any footsteps approaching. she heard a small stick break near the two of them.
her ears twitched at the sound.
she slowly got into a defensive position to protect her son.
however she couldn’t protect her son, seeing as neteyam was running away from her arms towards the sound.
“neteyam!” she whispered-yelled
“mama! mama! it’s y/n i see her!” he yelled with a smile on his little face.
neytiri followed her son to where she spotted another young na’vi.
however the young little girl was sniffling.
“y/n? are you ok? why are you sad?” neteyam worriedly asked. he ran around her to get a good look at her face properly.
“…neteyam? i thought you didn’t come?” she asked with tears in her big round eyes.
“what? of course i would come! why wouldn’t i?” he asked
“you weren’t at the tree… and i-i thought you forgot about me so i went to leave. b-but then i tripped and now my foot hurts.” she explains showing him how her ankle was swollen.
neytiri stepped around to face to pair.
y/n gasped.
“y-you’re neytiri! you fought against the scary sky people!” y/n said astonished. her jaw was dropped.
neytiri chuckled at the girls expression. she soon stopped laughing once she saw the damage her little foot had taken. her ankle was quite swollen.
neytiri had her mother instincts kick in and squatted down to get a proper look at the ankle.
“mom? what should we do about her foot? is she gonna be ok?” neteyam questioned nervously, seeing as he was anxious about his friends injury.
“she will be once we get her to your grandmother.” she said with a small smile on her face.
neytiri then picked up y/n and placed her on her back.
“let’s go get your foot fixed up so you two can play yeah?” she asked as she started to walk home.
neteyam led the way all the way back to his grandmothers tent.
the entire walk back to the village(?) neteyam and y/n ranted about all of the things they want to do. they talked about how they were going to swim, find different plants, eventually ride ikrans, all the way to what they wanted to become when they were older.
neytiri listened to the two of them with a smile on her face.
she was glad neteyam found a friend.
especially one who was as adventurous as him.
neytiri over the years witnessed how neteyam and y/n became closer than ever to one another.
neytiri realized the longing looks the two would send each other. the worry that they had whenever the other would go somewhere. the smiles they would send each other.
she noticed it all.
she even noticed the love in their eyes as they grew older and wiser.
her mother instincts were always right.
and a mother always knows best.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
enjoy guys! i’m so sorry i’m always slow with posting.
please send requests!!
~S!
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everlastlady · 9 months
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𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎 '𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬
✰ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: Hello! My little heroes, villains, and civilians. The first Miguel O 'Hara post. Hopefully it's good, I'm not really good with Spanish so I'm using a translation thing to help me with the language. I do plan on learning Spanish after I finish learning Italian on duo, anyway if you enjoyed this story then my request box is open. You can support me by blazing, commenting, hearts, or reblogging. Don't forget to eat, drink water, and take your medicine. Also support your local fan fiction writers.
✰ 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬: kidnapping, drugging, manipulation, violence, lies, and stockholm syndrome.
✰ Part 2
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• You are an absolute sweetheart to everyone at the society. Always making lunches for those who you were friends with or patching them up from missions. You always put others first, your smile could lit up a room. At first Miguel didn't think much of you, he honestly found you annoying and sometimes would have to tell you and Peter to be quiet whenever you both were trying to make Mayday laugh. " cierra el pico both of you, go do that somewhere else. " so when you and Peter left. Miguel sat there for a while wanting to hear your laugh again but not with Peter around, not with anyone around.
• He loved your cooking, he would tell you that he's only accepting your food out of respect. But he would ever last drop as if he was starving. He wondered what meals you would cook if you two were married, what dishes would you make whenever he came home from working. What lunches would you pack him. Would the kids help you with dinner. Miguel started asking you to bring him lunch everyday saying that he didn't have time to make his own and didn't want to spend money on take out. " Gracias cariño " he likes how your fingers brush against his whenever you hand him the bento box.
• Recently he stopped sending you on missions and is having you help him in the lab or having you in the medical wing to patch up other spiders. You didn't mind but you missed going on missions, and Miguel could tell but he knew soon that you wouldn't miss missions. And he was right, you started to distract yourself by stopping crime in your own universe and hanging out with the other spiders. Miguel didn't like this, what if get hurt in your own universe or worst fall in love. Miguel swore that he heard you talking to Noir and Peter B about this guy from your favorite coffee shop called Steven Grant. How you almost got hurt trying to stop a robbery in your neighborhood. He needed to plan something, it might be painful and hurt him emotionally but he needed to teach you a lesson.
• Boredom was killing you as you sat in the lab and started playing with paper clips but you jumped when Lyla flashes on your watch. " Woah, don't fall over and die (name), I'm blessing you with my presences to tell you that Miguel is sending you out on a mission since everyone else is busy or Miguel thinks they aren't capable. He thinks you can handle it so chop chop get to it! ". With that Lyla vanished. You let out a gleeful noise and put on your mask as you open the portal and jump through. You thought this was going to be fun and easy especially since you been training but you thought wrong. Everything in this universe was wrong; it was all dark and gloomy. Here you are running away like a scared child while bleeding. You suit in had claw marks and tears slide down your face. Crying into your watch for help. You were covered in claw marks, bruises, and your wrist broken.
• No one seemed to be answering their watches when you had Lyla contact Jess, Peter, Gwen Noir, Miles, and Hobie. No one picked up but Miguel did when you screamed for Lyla to call him. And when Miguel showed up he took care of the threat. " ¿Estás bien querida? You had me worried when you didn't return, come on let's get you to the medical wing. " Miguel picked you up, your injuries made you pass out but you could have swore that Miguel was smirking before you shut your eyes.
• You eventually woke up but you weren't in the medical wing, you were in a bedroom and it didn't belong to you. A delicious smell entered your noise and you looked down to see your wrist bandaged. You carefully got out of the bed groaning. Still sore from your injures. You left the bedroom and walk down the hallway and into the kitchen where Miguel stood cooking a delicious meal. He eas wearing a tight black t-shirt and grey sweatpants. Miguel turned around and saw your confused look. " Ah! corazon your awake! I brought you here because your injuries were so bad that I decided to treat you, also I didn't want the others to feel bad for not answering you. Good thing I answered you or else you would have been dead, now you know why I don't want to send you on anymore missions, you aren't strong enough which is fine, you were made for better things. " Miguel turned around and went back to cooking. You stood there and looked down, was Miguel right are you weak?
• Miguel had you sit down at table which you did still looking upset. " Now don't pout, until your injuries heal you can stay with me. I'll tell the others that you are on vacation a well deserved vacation. You do so much for everyone and take care of everyone. It's time for someone to take care of you~ " Miguel lifted up the fork to feed you some of the food. A break did sound nice and you could try to mentally recover from what had happened on the mission. So you agreed to stay at Miguel's place until your injuries healed. It wouldn't take that long for you to get better right?
• Wrong..... you always felt so weak and sleepy after every meal, Miguel made for you from breakfast, lunch, dinner, and even small snacks. You body always ached, you threw up, felt dizzy, and tired. Miguel ran some test and told you that you were sick but didn't know what you were suffering from. When you wanted to leave because you didn't want to be a burden. Miguel shook his head telling you that you weren't a burden that he would take care of you and that he didn't mind the company especially after all he lost. That made you feel sad so you stayed. Miguel bought you anything you wanted to make you feel at home, he even brought your clothes and other items from your apartment which felt weird at first because you didn't give anyone your address.
• While Miguel was gone and didn't come home the usual time he did. You were hungry and Miguel always cooked for you. So you wanted to surprise him and cook a meal for him and you. As you were going through the cabinets. You find a strange green bottle with some purple liquid inside. You ask Lyla about it, as she was painting her nails and not looking at you, she said the ingredients along with the side effects. " Not safe for human consumption, why do you ask? " She called out. Your whole body froze, was Miguel drugging you? Did he plan this whole thing to trap you here. You ran towards the bedroom to look for your watch but couldn't find it.
• " Looking for this corazon, it's rude to leave without saying goodbye or even a thank you mi amor for taking care of me... " You turned to see Miguel holding up your watch. Before you could react, Miguel threw it down and stepped on it. The watch broke into pieces. " oops... " Miguel quickly walked towards you and caged you with his body as your back was pressed against the wall. Tears stream down your face, this had to be a nghtmare. " D-Did you drug me, why did you drug me!? Did you send me on that mission knowing what would happen to me!? " You screamed at Miguel. Who stared at you with those red eyes. " Yes... because I needed to teach you a lesson that you are weak and only I can protect you because..... (Name), I love you~ " you flinch when Miguel strokes your cheek and wipes your tears away. " You are sick... " You said in between panic breathes. " I'm not sick, I was doing what was best for you... for us and you'll understand that soon but let's get you calmed down wouldn't want you to pass out again... " Miguel leans foward as you struggled. Miguel bit down sinking his fangs into your soft skin as you scream. But soon your body froze. " Shhh, te quiero. " Miguel laid you on the bed and left the room.
• You stayed trapped in Miguel's home for weeks. He told the others at the society that you quit and didn't want anyone to contact you since you wanted to retire from being a hero and didn't want any reminders or memories of the society. Of course everyone was upset but respected your wishes, if only they knew that truth. Just because you were kind that didn't mean you don't have a fighting spirit. You always fought to escape and tried taking Miguel's watch but he always overpowered you and knocked you got, always yelling his lungs out at you. " 𝙎𝙏𝙊𝙋 fighting me, I'm trying to care for us for you! I don't want to keep fighting you. But you leave me no choice but to do this..... " Those last words from Miguel made your stomach drop. He locked you in a room and only left you a blanket and a mattress. The room had a bathroom but no windows. " I'll let you out when you learn to be a loving partner. " And he left you alone in that dark room. The only time he came back in was to bring you food but said nothing and left.
• Being in that room was driving you crazy and the food wasn't good it was just microwave meals that weren't cooked all the way and the room was cold. You sat there on the mattress crying all day and all night. Screaming for Lyla but she didn't respond because Miguel instructed her not to. After a month you sat there feeling mentally, physically, and emotionally drained. The door opened as the hallway lights burns your eyes. Miguel stood there with his arms out while staring at you, he stood there waiting and you got up. Walking over you hug him tightly. Miguel smirked and hugged back as he planted a kiss on your head. " Have you learned your lesson, do you love me? " He asked while rubbing your back. You nod your head. " Then say it, say you are sorry and that you love me. " Miguel said while hugging you tightly so tight that he could snap you in half. " I'm sorry for being selfish for not appreciating what you do for me, I love you Miguel, please don't send me back into that room, I'll behave, I love you, I love, I love you. " You said in between sobs.
• Miguel smiles and kissed you. " Good, let's go get you properly cleaned up and a good meal~ " Miguel picked you up and did as promised, he gave you a bath, fresh pajamas, and cooked your favourite meal. The two of you even sat on the couch watching your favorite movie. What made Miguel happy was how you cling to him. How whenever he went to the bathroom you would panic and try to follow him. " Don't worry cariño, I'm just going to the bathroom I'll be back watch your movie and be good and I won't put you in the punishment room. " Miguel kissed you and left. That night you laid in bed with him and quickly fell asleep since you were in an actual nice bed. Miguel watched you sleep and was finally happy that you had you.
Part 2 coming soon comment if you wanna be tagged in part 2
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corazondebeskar-reads · 6 months
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you know you never stood a chance - epilogue
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you know you never stood a chance series
epilogue: maybe light a candle
series masterlist | prev chapter 
Joel Miller x f!reader
Words: 2.9k
Summary: It's Christmas Eve, and Joel hasn't come home yet. (this takes place about three years after the end of the main story.)
Warnings: established relationship, angst, christmas in the apocalypse, technically spoilers for tlou pt 2, mentions of breastfeeding (not as a fetish), found family, poor communication, oral (f receiving), postpartum depression, possibly violating child labor laws by using a baby as a plot device, pls remember I am playing fast and loose with both canon and the timelines lol
also on ao3
dividers by @saradika-graphics
It’s Christmas Eve.
Or, at least, according to the council. You’re not sure if anyone is really sure what the date is anymore.
But for all intents and purposes, maybe it’s Christmas Eve. The holiday is a thin, moth-bitten version of its former self, but you’ve never been the holly-jolly or the religious sort, so Christmas Lite suits you just fine.
Maria had invited you and Lulu to the mess hall for a big meal and activities for the kids. It was less of an invitation than an expectation, but you stayed home anyway.
And maybe it wasn’t fair. Maybe she wanted you there for the same reason you didn’t want to be there. She’s fucking tough, maybe the strongest person you know, but she has to be feeling Tommy’s absence today, too. It isn’t Aléjandra’s first Christmas, but likely the first one she’ll remember, which is worse.
But it’s more than it just being Lulu’s first Christmas. It’s that Maria had made a point of telling you that Ellie would be there.
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You prepare to watch her leave for the night. The light pours in the window when she opens the shed door, and you know she can see your shadow haunting the living room.
You want Ellie to meet her sister. You dream of it nearly every night. But there’s no way in hell you’re doing it without Joel. It’d break his heart. You like to think she knows, at least. Someone (probably Tommy) had to have told her.
So when she climbs the steps instead of walking past, you freeze. Her knuckles rap against the wood, and you close your eyes. You can’t. You need to, but you can’t.
“Maria asked me to remind you that you promised to come by tonight,” she calls through the door.
She knows you can hear her. She knows you choose not to respond (but she doesn’t know you bite your lip so hard to resist that it bleeds).
It would be wrong. But the ache is so strong you’re convinced it must be a physical wound.
She leaves.
“There goes Ellie,” you tell the baby, as you always do. “She’s got places to be, but she loves you very much.” The guilt of keeping them apart makes you nauseous.
Maybe it isn’t true yet, but you think it is. You think, despite everything, despite the anger she harbors for Joel (and a fragment of that for you), that she already loves her sister. Even if she’s only the shadow of a sister spied through dark windows and across the street.
You wonder if she knows her name. Tommy had started the whole “Lulu” thing, and though it had grown on you now, it made you suspect he hadn’t thought to mention she had a real, full name.
Luna Luann. Luna, for Ellie, and Luann for Joel’s favorite tía, the one who smuggled them chewing gum and taught Joel his strong right hook when the other kids were picking on Tommy.
You’d take this secret to the grave, but you hated the name Luann. But when he brought up the suggestion, he had talked about her for nearly twenty minutes, and so you love the woman despite her name, just for the way she brought a little more of Joel out.
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You thought they’d be home by Christmas. You’re trying not to worry, but worrying’s one of the things you’re good at. It doesn’t help that you’re still struggling. You’ve been told it’s normal, but these last two weeks with Joel gone have been so hard.
She’s cutting a tooth (her very first), and you can barely catch a break. You sleep when she sleeps, but it’s never enough. A few neighbors have been bringing casseroles still, and it’s the only reason you’ve been eating.
So, you think it’s probably understandable that you crumble after you watch Ellie walk away and Luna starts to cry. The lights are out except for the single candle in the front window. You keep it lit all night in case Joel comes home. A beacon.
If you had a widow’s walk, you’d be haunting it. But you’re not a widow—couldn’t be, you’re not even a wife—and he’ll be fine. He’ll come back.
Joel always comes back.
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It might be Christmas Eve, and you’re slumped against the wall of your living room, crying in tandem with your infant. There’s nothing wrong, you checked. It’s so much worse that she’s probably just picking up on your mood.
You orbit around each other that way. She is the sun that you and Joel revolve around, but his absence has sent you both off balance.
The sun might be the more accurate comparison, but you usually like to say Lulu, your Luna, was your moon, and Joel was the sun. He disagrees. He says he’s the rock, and you are her light.
It was profoundly beautiful, but none of the concepts held up to the reality. The truth was that you were a constellation, but without Ellie, you made no recognizable form. Sagitta with one feather, an arrow that can never fly true.
When you settle down to sniffles and the errant tear, Lulu has fallen asleep against your chest. You creep upstairs and lay her in the crib squeezed between the bed and the wall.
The room was plenty large, and part of it had been set up as a nursery. But after she was born, you spent each night on the floor next to the crib.
Joel hadn’t been having that. After the first week, he sat you down and asked if you’d be able to sleep in the bed if she was next to you.
And then he just… built a second, smaller crib. One that fits right up against your side of the mattress. It was low to the ground, so all you had to do was reach down, and you could feel her little chest rise and fall, or scoop her up to nurse her in the middle of the night. She’ll grow out of it fast, but by then, you hope you’ll feel secure enough to move her to the big one just across the room.
You had been embarrassed. Didn’t want anyone to know. After all, mothers had been putting their children to sleep in different rooms for ages. But you weren’t afraid to tell Joel, knew if there was anyone in this town that understood, it’d be him (and Maria).
“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with keepin’ your baby close,” he said, as gruff and blunt as always.
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When Joel comes home, he finds you that way. On your side, arm dangling into the crib with Lulu’s tiny fingers wrapped around your own. He sat down and gently tapped your shoulder, trying not to disturb the baby.
“What’re you doin’ here, darlin’?” he whispers when you stir. You blink up at him through sore eyes, then smile softly, sending his heart skittering.
“You’re home,” you say, extracting your finger and sitting up to reach for him.
He wraps you in his arms, lets you burrow into the nest of his broad shoulders. “M’sorry,” he murmurs into your hair, chasing the words with a kiss.
“Tommy okay?”
“Yeah, he’s good. Just hit some delays on the way home. Bridge was out. I thought y’all were going to the party?”
You don’t answer right away. You know he’ll feel bad. That he does feel bad, that the guilt eats a little part of him each day. All he wants is his girls all together.
“I was,” you mumble, feeling the tears prick with a vengeance. “But Maria said… Maria said that Ellie would be there.”
Joel’s arms squeeze you a little tighter for a moment. “Y’know I don’t want to get in the way of you talkin’ to her.”
“I know. But after last time… she doesn’t want to talk to me anymore, anyway.”
“She’ll come around,” Joel says.
It reignites a new round of self-hatred, that he’s sitting here consoling you. After all, she had spoken to you after their fight. Sat down and told you she wasn’t mad at you, that she knew he probably didn’t even tell you.
And he hadn’t told you, hadn’t clued you in, trying in his foolhardy way to spare you the burden of the lie. And you were mad at him for it; you’d had your own spat after.
But you weren’t mad he did it. Not one bit.
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He can tell you don’t want to keep talking about it, and that’s fine by him.
“You miss me, baby?” he murmurs, a teasing brush of his lips over your neck.
You roll your eyes. “Oh no, did you have to go two weeks without gettin’ laid?”
He chuckles, dark and raspy, as he reaches to cup your ass and squeeze, smirking when you gasp.
“And you’re tellin’ me those little fingers were enough for your greedy cunt? Like ya ain’t droolin’ for my cock right now?”
You whimper. He’s right. Two weeks is too fucking long for either of you.
He tugs you properly into his lap, legs wrapped around his waist, before he just stands up and carries you into the guest room across the hall. It’s not ideal, but if you leave both doors open, you’ll be able to hear Luna if she wakes.
“How’ve you not thrown your back out?” you grumble as he manhandles you.
He tosses you onto the bed, already peeling off his clothes and pointedly ignoring you.
He’s halfway through tugging his jeans down when he stops and looks at you. “What’re you doing? Let me see ya, sweetheart.”
You’ve long gotten over how easy you are for him. You only hadn’t stripped yet because you wanted to work him up. “You can see me just fine. Or do you need your glasses, old man?”
He takes the bait, shaking his head, before looming over you and running his hands down the sides of his old shirt you use for a nightgown. He barely grazes your breasts, just brushing the tips of your hardened nipples and grinning when you whine.
“Up,” he orders, tugging at the hem of the shirt.
You lift enough for him to pull it off and flop back down. It’s your turn to smirk as he watches the way your tits bounce with deep hunger.
And then he fucking rips the along the side of your panties and pulls them off, throwing them to the floor.
“Hey!”
“Shut up, you can sew ‘em back.”
“I’ve already sewn that pair twice, Joel. You’re a fuckin’ menace.”
“Is that so?” Suddenly his breath is hot against your cunt, and you clench around nothing.
“Uh-huh,” you moan as he runs one finger along the seam of your cunt. “‘Cause you’re a menace.”
“Only for you, darlin’.”
You laugh. “Oh yeah? Let me do a survey around town.”
He shuts you up by sliding two fingers right into your cunt, the stretch almost too much. Almost. But you don’t really notice because he buries his face between your lips, and any sassy remark comes out in a desperate cry.
He pulls away and gives you a warning look, head tilted. His free hand comes up to cover your mouth, thick fingers clamping down and digging into your cheek. It makes you moan, but it also muffles it, so it works out fine.
“If you want your turn, you gotta be quiet. Otherwise, I’ll just have mine and shut you up proper.”
You choke down the moan dredged up by the thought of his cock down your throat and make the saddest pleading eyes you can muster.
He rolls his, shaking his head, before he goes back to your neglected clit.
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You’re close, so close when you hear it. You pat Joel’s head, sitting up. “Was that the door?”
The shift is immediate. Three years in town has allowed Joel to relax somewhat, sometimes, but he slips back into it in an instant. He pulls back, brow furrowed, squinting like it’ll help him hear better.
It comes again, louder this time, insistent enough for him to pick up. A firm knocking.
There’s a pause, but Joel’s already on his feet, pulling his clothes back on. He tosses your shirt over as he ducks out of the doorway and you’re slipping it over your head when whoever is outside grows impatient.
Rapid, furious banging rattles the door, and you dart across the hall to shut the bedroom, but it’s too late.
Lulu starts wailing immediately, her little face scrunched up, nose wrinkling, and tears pouring out faster than a faucet. You scoop her up and soothe her, cradling her as she finds solace for her hurt feelings and empty stomach.
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Joel goes downstairs, partly to shut up the racket but mostly because the sound fills him with dread. When he opens the door, it flings wide, and the tirade begins immediately.
Ellie storms in, already yelling. “—could you? What the fuck is wrong with you? You won’t even let her come out for fuckin’ Christmas because she might see me?”
You’re going down the stairs as soon as you hear her voice, but she stops yelling when she sees you on the landing.
“It’s not his fault,” you say, face hot with frustration and raw hurt. You hate the way your eyes water.
“Like hell, it isn’t. Maria said you were going to come, that one of you might actually have the balls to tell me you had a fuckin’ baby, and—”
“And I decided not to go, Ellie. Joel wasn’t even home. He didn’t know.”
Lulu has started to cry again, distracted from nursing by your ire. You murmur apologies, kissing the little tuft of dark hair on her head, and try to coax her back to your breast.
Ellie’s eyes are wide, and feet planted, ratty sneakers dripping filthy snow across the floor. Her mouth hangs open as she takes in the tiny, ruddy creature who finally agreed to return to her meal.
“Hey, Ellie. We had a fuckin’ baby,” Joel says after the silence hangs for a minute too long.
The bark of laughter that bursts out of her looks like it hurts, but she can’t fight it. The tension dissolves into absurdity and then tears.
Ellie sits on the ground instead of the perfectly nice sofa to her left. You come down the stairs and sit beside her.
You look up at Joel, and he nods. You wish he’d come sit, but he’s too afraid to break the peace. “Would you like to hold your sister?” you ask Ellie, keeping your voice low and steady.
“Can I? I mean… what if I break her?”
“She’s pretty tough.” Lulu is done eating, just suckling for comfort, so you pry her off your breast and tug your shirt back up.
Joel takes her without thinking, leaning her against his shoulder to help her work out the air.
Once she gives a satisfactory belch, he thrusts her at Ellie, who’s startled enough to take her without thinking about it.
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You all hold very still. Except Lulu, who is blissfully unaware of the strife and coos up at her big sister. She bats a little hand at her face, smacking her nose in an attempt to grab on. Ellie laughs, and her smile, her perfect smile that you haven’t seen in a year, breaks out.
You can’t help it; you start crying. Ellie looks up in alarm, but Joel shakes his head, moving closer to rub your shoulder.
“It’s not you,” he says solemnly, “it’s just hard, after.” He gestures at the baby.
“It is you,” you say, and Joel scrubs a hand over his face with a soft groan. “It’s—I’m sorry, I just—”
Ellie’s looking like she might make a break for it. She tries to hand the baby back to Joel, who refuses.
You get ahold of yourself. “It’s not bad, Ellie. I’ve just been waiting for this since she was born.”
Ellie softens and then scowls. “Then you should have told me. You should have told me you were pregnant in the first place. I said you could talk to me.”
“No, I couldn’t,” and you pause as she shoots a dirty look at Joel. “No, not because of him. Because I would have done the same damn thing, so you may as well hate me too.”
“What?” She seems genuinely shocked, which you don’t have the patience for.
“I would do the same damn thing. If I had been there, there would have been nothin’ in the fuckin’ world keeping me from getting to you, Ellie. Nothing short of death. Not then, not now. I’d do it for her, too.”
The room is stifling, and Joel hasn’t even lit the hearth yet. Your breath comes out in little puffs, and every one of you has wet, devastated eyes. Even Lulu, who looks like she might be the first to break into tears.
Ellie looks down and sighs. “So, Lulu, huh?”
“Actually,” Joel says, and chances a step closer, squatting down. “It’s Luna. Luna Luann. Tommy’s just an idiot.”
Ellie’s a smart kid. You can see the moment it clicks—the way she looks up at Joel with something akin to hope. It fades quickly, but you know he saw it, too. His own staggering heart, heavy with love unspoken, is betrayed in the way he has to fight a smile, choke down the relief. Maybe, just maybe.
Maybe next year, you’ll get a tree.
thank you all so, so much.
*title from "Alone This Holiday" by The Used
180 notes · View notes
tonicandjins · 1 year
Text
find your way back home | lee donghyuck
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pairing: lee donghyuck | haechan x female reader
word count: 22.5k
genre: fluff, some mentions of sex, ANGST and nostalgia lots of it, haechan-centric, slow burn
warnings: mentions of sex, excessive drinking, will talk about insomnia and depression
summary: nct’s haechan gets into a scandal after a night of drinking his ass off in hongdae, which prompts the management to put him in an indefinite hiatus. and it’s not like it’s the first time, because over the past months, haechan’s drinking problem had gone worse. hence, his parents send him back to jeju island for some healing time because his parents and managers think that maybe some time home would help. haechan laughs at the thought. if medication can’t, what can jeju island do? besides, he hasn’t been there in literal years.
author's note: this is my favorite work so far, which is why it took this long. i put my heart in here. please let me know which one is your favorite line/scene. this is also very heachan-centric, so please don't expect a lot of the reader's POV. also, may i recommend you to listen to Moon, Be There For You, Never Goodbye by NCT DREAM, Good Person by Haechan himself, and Black Clouds by NCT 127 as you read this! :) TIP ME HERE.
taglist: @mosviqu @matchahyuck @sirens-dreams @sundamariis @lovingvoidgoatee @anjaenha @thiccfullsun @665321-more @hyuckiesoftie @aliceinwhateverland @tddyhyck @anniebyanto @novawona @gimmehyuck @blxshqueen @blitz-fall @byungbyungbaek @calssunflower @funkygoose @carelessshootanonymous-blog @jungwooforever @budibbly @positionslab @beomyomom @jexizia @4everhyucks
disclaimer: names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of my imagination or used in a fictitious manner. i do not claim to own or to have invented any copyrighted characters or concepts that i write about.  
Y/N = your name, Y/C/N = your childhood nickname
Haechan’s dream has always been the spotlight.
His Mother would tell her friends stories of how he would always tell her he’d be a star someday, a grin flashing across his small face on pictures and clips of him taking a stage as small as the podium in his first grade classroom, and would proudly brag that his first-born son made it to the world stage. She was so proud that she’d have his portfolio picture as her display image in her social media accounts. As a musician herself, she’d play NCT’s music out loud and would even go an extra mile by using their b-side songs when teaching their students at their small but proud music academy in the big city of Seoul. Haechan’s pictures are all over the small place they’d rented for their small business, two floors—the vocal lessons facilitated on the second floor and piano and guitar on the ground floor—and the humble husband and wife would proudly say the most successful student they’d ever had was Lee Donghyuck, now better known as Haechan.
Haechan allows her to take credit of it all, his success, because after all, she’d been the one to encourage her to take a chance at SM Entertainment’s infamous Saturday auditions. People tell Haechan he works hard, but nobody really works harder than his Mother. With sheer determination and a passionate heart, his mother would take little Donghyuck to every stage—no matter how small. Young and bright, he remembers being dragged from one contest to another, even when their family still lived in Jeju, and he’d win all of them for her. He’d take the spotlight just to see her happy and proud.
At times, Haechan wonders how much effort his mother had really put into his career. If he thinks about it now, it started with their entire family moving out of Jeju Island, completely uprooting their entire lives from the simple life in the island to give her dream a chance. People say that Haechan was born a star, that SM got lucky to have a child prodigy offer himself—bare and whole and real—who was willing to give up his childhood and education for a shot in the dark. His father had been reluctant about it, saying that they’d have to give up their entire life savings to merely move to Seoul—considering plane tickets and security deposits need to be sent prior to moving—and that taking a loan wouldn’t be ideal when they could barely make ends meet with four children growing up too fast. A shot in the dark, a flip of a coin, the luck of a draw. They say he was meant for this, was meant for the stage and the lights and the applause, but to Haechan, it’s not really fate. It’s just his mother doing all the work, and he’d take the spotlight for her.
Because Haechan likes the attention. He likes the good and the bad. The cheers and the applause. The painful arm slaps from Mark when he’s annoyed him enough. The head pats and hugs Taeil gives him when he’s being cute and when he lives up to his maknae image. The viral videos of him all over the internet for simply walking down the stage.
And his mother couldn’t be prouder to have a reliable son like him. She had always dreamed of the spotlight herself, but the timing was never right for her—hence Haechan living her dream, her spotlight, had been one of, if not the biggest accomplishments of her life.
The night is cold. Haechan feels dizzy when flashes of the lights coming from the small window of the bar’s building hit his face. He hates the lights, he hates being seen, and it makes him throw up when, as soon as he closes his eyes, it’s his mother that he sees.
Would his mother still be so proud when she learns that, after a long weekend of a back to back concert with NCT 127, his son would be getting a blowjob from a stranger at the back of some sleazy bar he had found online?
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“Please tell me this isn’t real.”
Mark Lee is only twenty-three, but with how his forehead’s skin is wrinkling, he might as well invest in several sessions of botox shots. He’s holding his phone up to Haechan’s face, as if bringing the device closer to the younger’s eyes would deny the article that Dispatch uploaded at five in the fucking morning.
“I didn’t sleep with her,” Haechan denies, voice bored, tired. “We might have done other things, but I didn’t sleep with her.”
Mark lets out a groan of frustration, throwing his phone behind Haechan, the device landing on the carpeted floor. Haechan doesn’t even flinch even though it almost hit him.
“Haechan, what the fuck is going on, man?” Mark asks, demands to know what really is going on with his best friend, or whoever he’s speaking with now. “You know SM is going to kill you, right?”
Haechan shrugs. “What are they gonna do? Fire me?”
“You know they can!” Mark shouts, walking back and forth while Haechan remains seated on the couch, unbothered. “You’ve seen them do it! To our seniors! To the people you trained with. You think you’re big time, huh? That just because you’re essential in both units, they wouldn’t send you to some dungeon?”
Haechan laughs bitterly. He reckons being placed in a dungeon would be much better than the hell he’s living in now. “Now that,” he mocks. “Would be the ultimate dream.”
“You’re a fucking nightmare,” Mark says, pointing a finger to Haechan, enunciating each syllable so it goes through his skull.
But nothing can really make Lee Haechan budge anymore—not an expensive, hard device laterally thrown to his face, and not even his best friend (if he could still call him that) blatantly showing how disgusted he is with him—and he can’t really blame anyone. It used to he frightening to see Mark angry at something he did. Used to.
Haechan doesn’t really know what to say, so he chuckles bitterly and leans his head back so that it’s against the backrest, pondering whether it’s a good time to drink the bottle of vodka he’s been keeping under his bed.
“It’s funny because I don’t even know what having a nightmare feels like.”
Mark huffs, seemingly had given up on Haechan, then leaves the room alongside the small piece of sanity that the younger had left. Haechan bolts, sitting up real quick, but too slow because Mark is already out of the door. Haechan likes attention, and even though Mark Lee makes his head hurt, he likes the attention. Haechan likes that Mark is angry at him.
His manager calls him next, (as expected) voice angry as if he’s about to explode, and tells him his publicist is doing her very best to answer every god damn call from every magazine and news outlet. But none of those magazine and news outlets who have called had posted something to clear the situation; none of them were buying it. Haechan thinks it’s fucking ridiculous anyway. There were pictures and videos of him sneaking out with Hana or Hari, whatever her name was, and a clip of him zipping his pants up as they try to hide from the flashes of lights. Who the fuck would believe he was just out exploring with his 35-year old, happily-married-with-kids personal assistant?
And it’s too late, anyway, because what was the point of it all when his most loyal and long-time fan sites have all shut down overnight, his Instagram followers reducing down to five million in a matter of hours since Dispatch posted that article, and his best friends blatantly ignoring him with the exception of Mark confronting him, but of course, Haechan had to screw that up, too.
“They’re calling you in for a meeting,” his manager concludes with a sigh after elaborating what had been done to patch up the entire mess. “Be ready for whatever they have to say. Don’t expect me to have your back because I’m over it, Haechan. Whatever they decide to do with you, you fucking deserve it.”
The call ends. Haechan didn’t even get to talk.
He looks at the screen of his phone. There were a million of calls and text messages from his agency, half of it were from his mother, and the last thing he really wants now is to hear her voice. He scrolls through it all, chest tightening when he realizes nobody from Jaemin, Renjun and Jeno had tried to call him. Haechan knows he’s an asshole, deserving to be the receiving end of all the shouting and cussing, and he’s probably made the dumbest mistake of his entire life, but he’d live the stardom’s life long enough, he’d be okay. But a call from his best friends would have been a breather.
Haechan understands, what his manager said, that he shouldn’t really expect anyone to have his back after all that’s transpired in the last few of months.
You see, Haechan developed insomnia. He’d look the symptoms up in the internet, and it’s described as a common sleeping disorder that can make it hard for people to fall asleep, or if one’s attempt to drift off is successful, to stay asleep. Taeyong had said it’s a common disorder for idols, that their seniors from groups like EXO and SHINEE had all gone to psychologists for help, but Haechan didn’t really want to make a big deal out of it. He relied on what Naver offered him one morning when the sun’s already out and his eyes are still wide open.
Stress and anxiety were the major causes. Some resources say it could be from a poor sleeping environment such as an uncomfortable bed or bad lighting or temperature. One claims that it could also be from one’s lifestyle, like jetlag from traveling frequently, or drinking one too many caffeine-infused doses of fluids. It all could be factors why Haechan’s been getting 8-10 hours of sleep a week, and he acknowledges that he doesn’t really have the best lifestyle—and it’s not like he’s ever had the choice since NCT blew up.
So, he’d consulted Taeyong again, through a text, and all he’d gotten was a link to a study that insomnia can be caused by mental health conditions such as depression, followed by his therapist’s phone number.
Among all the causes he’d gathered, Haechan could confidently rule out depression because there’s no fucking way he’s sad. There’s barely any reason to be sad. Sure, he’d miss his siblings most of the time and he hates the feeling of seeing any of them cry whenever he had to leave, but nothing is more gratifying than the relief of seeing them happy whenever he comes home with luxurious gifts or plane tickets to Tokyo for a vacation. Haechan likes making people happy, and Mark tells him he’s always been a people pleaser. At times, he’d think his happiness depends on the happiness of the people he loves and values, and people around him are happy.
Hence, Haechan is happy.
Or at least, was happy.
Because the insomnia got worse—not that Haechan’s dealt with it enough to know whether it’s getting better or worse—but it was bad. He would come home exhausted as fuck after an entire day of dancing and singing, and he knows he’s tired because his body tells him so. Haechan would lie on bed, body drained from all energy, but his eyes would be wide open for an entire night. He’d only fall asleep when the sun’s started to seep through his curtains, a good hour before his manager would wake him for the next schedule. It was manageable, and the tour was a good excuse for the insomnia, but it followed him even on his days off, even in the beginning of the pandemic when there little to zero schedules that would have caused him anxiety or stress.
Therefore, reluctantly, he’d visited a doctor to get a prescription for some meds he could take to help him sleep. He’d lied, though, that it wasn’t that bad and that he would need it only on nights after shows, because he knew they’d only refer him to a therapist. Haechan doesn’t need a therapist. He could just talk to his mother about it, and she’d know what to say to make him feel better. To make him keep going.
It was fine until the melatonin supplements stopped working. Sometime last year, if he remembers right, when he thought he’d gone crazy because everything stopped working for him. There was a bottle of soju, half empty, from the fridge he had in the corner of the room he shared with Johnny, and he reckoned it could help. As soon as the bottle was empty, Haechan felt drowsy; he was out like the light half an hour later.
But just like the prescription from the doctor he can’t even remember the name of, drinking half a bottle worked. Johnny would give him suspicious looks when he would see Haechan stocking up soju inside their room, but he doesn’t ever say anything. Because alcohol made him sleep, until it didn’t. Until half a bottle stopped working. Until an entire bottle is no longer enough. Until Taeyong’s decided that there should be no alcohol inside anyone’s fridge, both fifth and tenth floors.
Hence, the drinking problem.
Haechan wonders what’s next. The sleeping problem, then the drinking problem. It looks like here is it, the next one: the scandal.
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When Haechan was a trainee, his greatest fear was getting removed from the agency.
There was an assessment every quarter, and the CEO himself would sit down in a panel alongside other producers and choreographers to identify which of the trainees would move on to another level and which ones would have to go home. Each time they had to go through the assessment, Haechan, alongside other existing members of NCT, would spend long days inside the training room. He would fear that the CEO would ask him to rap all of a sudden because Haechan can’t rap to save his god damn life at that time. He would fear that his mother would receive a call and find out his beloved son, whom she spent so much money on just to get ballet classes, failed and would need to go home.
Today, Haechan fears none of those.
The decision to put him in an indefinite hiatus was quick to make, not that Haechan expected anything less.
The news was out the second they threw him out of the meeting room (but not before the CEO slapping him right across the face, his left cheek throbbing in pain he’s oddly happy he could feel) and his bags were packed before he could even tell his members. The dorms were empty when he arrived, and there was no time to visit Dream’s place; Haechan knew he could just call, or visit. His family lives twenty minutes away, a short ride from downtown. He’d figure it out, like he always would.
What fazes him is what he comes home to.
His father offers him a one-way ticket, says his mother is still too upset to look even at Haechan in the face, that she’s spending the night in her friend’s house. The domestic flight ticket is bound to Jeju Island, and it boards tomorrow morning.
“Your grandmother will be waiting for you,” his father says, eyes everywhere but Haechan’s. “Your mother thinks it would be the best for now. Your agency knows, of course, and they’re helping us ensure you get your privacy in Jeju-do. We just need you to stay there for a bit, Donghyuck. Might help.”
“Dad,” Haechan pleads, Dad sounding foreign to him now. He’s stopped calling him Dad years ago, right before he debuted in NCT, and had been calling him Father. He’s not sure why he’a suddenly calling him that now, perhaps it’s the sinking feeling in his stomach, but Haechan is desperate for another solution. “You can’t send me back in the island. I haven’t lived in grandmother’s house since I was twelve.”
“Don’t act like the place isn’t civilized, Donghyuck,” his father sighs. “You’ll be okay. You can take your expensive gaming laptop with you so you can entertain yourself while you’re on vacation. It’s only going to be a few months.”
“A few months?” Haechan cries. “I can’t live there anymore!”
“The agency decided not to terminate their contract with you,” his father reveals. “Apparently, you’re too talented to let go of. Your mother and I are very grateful they didn’t. All they want in return is for you to go back in six months—sober and full of life again. Your therapist suggests you go to a vacation.”
“I don’t have a therapist?”
“The doctor who prescribed you sleeping pills? You didn’t tell us you had insomnia.”
“Fuck you,” Haechan spits before he could even think about it. “Neither you nor mother thought of asking me what’s been going on. Dad, I wanted you to scold me. To punch me in the fucking gut and tell me I’ve ruined everything. I wanted mother to yell at me until my ear bleeds, so I can find the motivation to work hard and make her happy again.”
“Donghyuck, we–”
“Don’t call me that!” He yells. “The first thing that came to your mind was how grateful you are that I’m not fired from my job? I’m not some retirement plan! I’m your son!”
“Keep it down. Your siblings are–”
”Donghyuck-hyung?” Haechan turns. Gyeom stands at the end of the hallway, seemingly woken up from his slumber, and Dongmin hides behind the younger one to see what’s going on. Haechan doesn’t even see Seungyeon come out of her room. He just hears her door shut loudly, the lock clicking, and realize he fucked up big time.
He takes a look at the ticket from his father’s hand.
It’s ridiculous. If the melatonin pills he’s taking are not helping with his stupid insomnia, and drinking a bottle of soju works as equally as useless, what the fuck could work? They think a recreational vacation to fucking Jeju Island would do shit?
Fuck his parents, honestly.
Fuck his siblings for not even giving him a hug as soon as he entered their home.
Fuck his members for not checking up on him.
Fuck the entire god damn world.
He rips the ticket from his father’s hand and turns to leave, taking the same bags he’d brought in a few minutes ago. The flight is tomorrow morning, but Haechan calls a taxi to take him to the airport.
Sleeping (or at least, trying to) in the uncomfortable airport seats is a fucking pain in the ass, literally. But nothing more hurts than the look on his family’s face: the blankness in his father’s and the fright from his siblings.
Jeju fucking Island. Way to end the day.
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When Haechan was younger, his grandmother would take him to the Camellia Hills on the weekends. While kids his age would be taken in Aqua Planet to see thousands of animals and plant species to ease their shoulders from studies, Haechan would be running around fields of camellia and hydrangea flowers. They would spend hours just walking around trees of over five hundred different kinds of wildflowers. His grandmother would take pictures of him and let him eat whatever he wanted at a nearby restaurant, and his siblings would always cry and complain why Nana only wanted to bring Haechan. There wasn’t a particular reason, of course, it was only because the younger ones were too difficult for their grandmother to look after on a trip to Camellia Hill. Little Donghyuckie was well-behaved albeit his bold and obnoxious nature. He would do whatever his Nana would ask him.
Haechan’s always claimed that he’s the favorite despite his grandmother repeatedly saying she doesn’t do favorites, and he knows deep in his heart that he is. He is, after all, the first grandchild, and he spent a lot of time with his Nana alone for many years while they were in Jeju.
His grandmother used to sing him to sleep at night. When his younger sister was born, Nana stayed with them in Seoul for a while to help his parents adjust to having two kids, considering Haechan’s age gap with Seungyeon is only a year. Nana made sure Haechan slept well every night, in a separate room from his parents because newborn Seungyeon who wouldn’t let anyone sleep past one in the morning. She’d sing him songs from The Beatles in broken English, and Haechan likes to think that even though both his parents were musicians, the reason why he could sing well was his Nana.
She eventually had to move back to Jeju Island as soon as the family had settled, but years later, at the age of seven, his grandfather died and Nana was left all alone to tend to their land and business, hence the Lee family packed their bags to stay at Nana’s supposedly for the summer, but ended up with the decision of staying for her.
Nana had problems sleeping when his grandfather died. Haechan used to find her awake when he’d need a glass of water or to go to the toilet at two in the morning. She’d be watching television, a nighttime talk show she used to like, or reading a book from his grandfather’s shelf. The lights in her home were always on.
So, Haechan started singing her to sleep just like how she did when he was a child.
She’d tell him, “Oh, my Donghyuckie, you have such a nice voice. Why don’t you sing more?”
Then she’d fall asleep while Haechan wondered why lovers die at different times, why one has to go first and the other is left on Earth trying to sleep well every night.
Upon his arrival in Jeju-do, his grandmother doesn’t pick him up from the airport like he’d expected, so he takes a taxi from the airport to her house. Haechan knows what their home looks like despite not visiting since his training days. They own a small hectare of land filled with tangerine trees, and his grandmother had been the sole operator of it all for many years until she had to start hiring people here and there to manage things for her when her age caught up with her. His father used to travel back and forth to see how things are here and there, but eventually stopped when Nana had found people she can rely on—which Haechan is very glad about.
He must be an asshole, or a prick, or a hypocrite to even say this but he’s been thinking about her more often than he calls. If he recalls right, the last time he’d called was three months ago, on her birthday, but it was two-minute exchange of generic how are yous and please stay healthys. She would call, of course, but Haechan would always have something as an excuse: a dance practice, a trip to Japan for a show, a photoshoot, something. Something to cover up the fact that he hasn’t been the best grandson to her in a long time.
He arrives and the first thing he notices is a hammock hanging in between the posts of her patio. A kick of nostalgia hits him because grandfather put up a hammock at the back of their home once, when Haechan was around five years old and they were visiting the couple for the summer. Her grandmother used to tell Haechan that the hammock is the best place to take his afternoon naps, hence little Donghyuck would spend most of his afternoons lying on a hammock made of strong nylon.
Shaking off the nostalgia, Haechan clears his throat. “Nana! I’m home!”
“Donghyuckie, is that you?” she calls from somewhere. Haechan walks over to the patio and drops his bags.
Nana comes out from the side of the house, her favorite pink apron on, grey hair hidden by a hair cap. “Oh, sweetheart.”
Haechan sees her age simply by the way she stands. Her back is hunched more than it was the last time he saw her during Chuseok last year. The wrinkles in the edges of her eyes and around her mouth are much more evident. The skin on her neck is loose, and so is the skin on her arms and everywhere.
For a second, Haechan feels like he’s seven again, seeing her for the first time since summer, her eyes not as happy as they were from the last time they’d been in Jeju-do, when grandfather was still alive. Haechan suddenly is taken back to when she’d hug him so, so tightly, crying to his shoulder, telling him harabeoji had left her while she was asleep. He remembers his heart dropping down to the ground when he saw her breaking down, his loving grandmother—who was always bright and happy, whom people would say he got his personality from—at her lowest. It’s the same wave of sadness Haechan feels looking at her now—looking at the years painted in her skin. Her memories blurring out the color of her eyes. Decades of hard work and labor tainted on the callouses on her fingers. Glints of loneliness spread throughout the wrinkles on her face.
Haechan has been all over the world for years now. Years of training and sleepless nights perfecting a performance had led him to where he is now. People who speak different languages love him and cheer for him even with countries and continents in between. He’s made millions happy by simply singing songs or saying hi in a fan call. And while he’s done of all of these, what had he done for his grandmother? People have been watching him grow up, who was watching Nana all this time?
Haechan chokes on his own tears. His grandmother, his Nana, opens her arms like Haechan is not the person the world hates right now. She hugs him like Haechan is not the person who had potentially ruined the group his best friend Mark had worked hard on. She holds him in her arms like Haechan is not the person who scared his siblings and cursed his own father. Nana takes him inside her home like he’s her Donghyuck again.
Haechan feels like he’s her Donghyuckie again.
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Contrary to popular belief, Donghyuck doesn’t like affection as much as Haechan does.
He believes that being offered tenderness is the very proof that you’ve been ruined, and Haechan likes to think that with the life he has now, he’s not really in the position to talk about his life’s struggles. Because there are more people in the world who deserves to talk about their pain. Donghyuck doesn’t deserve as much.
Hence, the nostalgia goes away as quickly as it arrives. Haechan spends the rest of the day trying to sleep in his grandmother’s spare room and doesn’t even bother answering when his grandmother knocked on his door to invite him for lunch despite him being wide awake.
Haechan gets up at five in the afternoon, just when the sun is about to set, eyes heavy. The sky looks a lot like the color of his own skin, he notices, and he thinks about how beautiful the sky would be in Han River and recalls how him and Mark (and sometimes Doyoung) would lie on the ground, letting their skin soak in the sun slowly sinking down to its rest.
But none of that is close to happening because he’s here. In Jeju-do. Stuck like some twelve-year old sent to camp for an entire summer because his parents can’t stand him.
Haechan’s train of (bitter) thoughts is interrupted with a loud plonk from the wooden patio, which is right outside his window. He pulls his curtains slightly to peek, and he finds you on the floor on your side, groaning like a kid and massaging your back. It looks like you’d just fallen out of the hammock.
Curious, Haechan gets up and quickly slips out of his room to see you on their front porch.
“And Nana says it’s the most comfortable place to sleep on,” he hears you mumble as you get up, eyes meeting his as soon as you see him. Your eyes widen in shock, probably recognizing him, but you quickly catch yourself and look down.
“You are?” Haechan asks, towering over you.
You clear your throat. “Y/N.”
“I don’t mean your name, pumpkin,” he replies. “What do you do here?”
Haechan smirks at the way one of your eyebrows raised, clearly already infuriated at his attitude. You’re wearing a white shirt that’s too big for you underneath your denim overalls. The pair of boots sitting under the hammock is a clear sign that you’re a farmer tending to the tangerine trees on the land right beside the house, separated by a fence and his grandmother’s home garden.
“I manage your grandmother’s land,” you answer, stance defensive. “And it looks like you’re the delinquent grandson they sent away for the summer?”
Haechan chuckles, liking how you’re bark and bite, wondering how far he can push you, because the last thing he really wants is someone staying at his grandmother’s house. Too close. Too easy to see everything. You’d make millions selling him to the tabloids. He’d honestly rather hear people saying how much of an asshole he is, than have people invading his grandmother’s privacy while he’s here.
“You mean the world star, right?” he brags, licking his upper lip. “And you manage the land we own? Sounds a lot like a farmer to me.”
You stifle a laugh. You’re not at all intimidated. “Oh, pumpkin, I think the last thing you’d want to do in Jeju-do is insult a farmer for their job. The agricultural structure of Jeju Island has done more than you thrusting your hips up on the air for young, easily-manipulated teenage girls, Donghyuck.”
“So, you know my name?”
You click your tongue and turn around, proceeding to slip your boots back on. “How could I not know?”
“Because I’m a world star, right. How could you not know?”
Haechan watches you tie the laces up of your boots. You don’t give him another glance and leave, stomping your feet down the stairs to the ground until you’re out of his sight.
“Hey, you’re awake,” Nana says from inside. The door is wide open. “Where’s Y/N?”
She walks towards where Haechan stands, looking around for you. “That girl. I told her to stay for dinner. What’d you do, Donghyuck-ah?”
“Nothing,” he mumbles, annoyed at how Nana is more concerned about you leaving than ensuring his privacy. He’s a star, for god’s sake. “Why’d you let her sleep here, anyway? And have her stay for dinner? Aren’t you scared she might sell me off to some magazine for, I don’t know, one million won?”
“Why would Y/N sell you—“ his grandmother sighs. “Not everyone is out to get you, Donghyuck-ah.”
“Why does she even know my birth name?” he questions. “That’s like, too much, Nana. Don’t share things like that.”
His grandmother slaps his arm. “Ow! What’d you do that for?”
“You’re a moron!” she screeches. “That was Y/N! She waited for you to wake up all day!”
“That’s creepy!”
“Y/C/N,” Nana enunciates. Haechan remembers. “Her childhood nickname. Does it ring a bell?”
“Y/N—” he breathes out. Frozen. “—is Y/C/N?”
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Haechan has always had an affinity with flowers, long before he named his fans sunflowers.
His grandparents had a larger flower garden as compared to how it is now. They’d planted tangerine trees in place of the fields of beautiful red azalea and rhododendron blossoms. On spring days, the cherry blossoms were infinite, and little Donghyuck used to spend a lot of time looking at the flowers and making necklaces out of them.
You used to (still do, perhaps) live down the street, and your parents used to help out in the farm when your grandparents needed another pair of hands to harvest the tangerines. Little Donghyuck met you when he was six.
If he recalls it right, it was the second day of summer, a hundred something days before they had to return back to Seoul. He found you lying under a cherry blossom tree, eyes closed, allowing hundreds of pink petals to drown you in their beauty. Little Donghyuck lied down beside you, upside-down but his head is right beside yours. He’s always been a curious kid, so he wanted to know why you were letting the pink petals rain on you. There was nothing special about it. Just petals falling when the wind blows a certain direction.
When he opened his eyes, you turn to look at him, your eyebrows were furrowed the way they were when Haechan found you on the floor of his patio earlier, right after you’d fallen from the hammock.
“Hey,” you had said. “You’re the kid from Nana’s house, right?”
“She’s my Nana,” he corrected, closing his eyes once again. “And yes, I’m the kid from Nana’s house. You are?”
“My mom calls me Y/C/N,” you answered. “Are you staying for the summer?”
He nodded. “Only for the summer. We’re leaving before school starts.”
“Do you like flowers?” you asked.
“We don’t have a lot of flowers in Seoul,” Little Donghyuck mumbled. “But I love flowers. Last summer, Nana took me to Camellia Hills to see the flowers bloom in May.”
“Then you should stay,” you trailed off. “If you love flowers and Seoul doesn’t offer much, then you should stay.”
“What about school?” Donghyuck had asked, opening his eyes to look at you. You’re looking at him, upside-down and all. Donghyuck’s never seen someone more beautiful. “You’re pretty.”
Your eyes widened. You immediately hide your face from him using your hands. “We’re only five. I can’t have a boyfriend at five years old.”
“Maybe when we’re older.”
Haechan doesn’t remember much from the day you met, but he got close to you during that summer in 2006, even more when his family moved back to Jeju-do in 2007. Your friendship blossomed from walking together in first grade throughout primary school until he’d graduated and eventually moved back to Seoul.
He can’t believe that he’d forgotten your name, and a part of him knows it’s because he’s always called you by your childhood nickname, but a larger part of him likes to think that it’s because he’s almost twenty-three now—it’s been almost ten years. He’s met probably thousands of people at this point, and with the lifestyle he has, he really can’t afford to remember each person he spends time with. Not even the girl he spent his entire childhood in Jeju-do with.
So, Haechan forgives himself before he could ask for yours. He reckons you’d understand. You know him, somehow. You kept in touch until Haechan got into SM in 2013 and high school and training got the best of him. He changed his number and lost contact with almost everyone in Jeju-do, even his closest friends, and you were one them.
Life as a singer means Haechan had to sacrifice a lot of things.
Most people know an idol sacrifices having a normal life—playing in the streets, trying out to be a part of the basketball team, dating at fifteen years old, prom, staying at one classmate’s house for a group project—and it includes forgetting the people you used to be close with.
One of the rules in SM when he was a trainee was to not get in touch with the people from their past. One of their managers used to tell them that their lives are divided into two parts: before training and after training; and to be successful in the industry means to forget who you were before training. They’d deleted all of his social media, which means he disconnected from the people he knew before he was Haechan. They’d deleted who he was before Haechan.
Many sacrifices, indeed. The list goes on, and at the end of it was your name.
“She never left Jeju-do?” Haechan asks, curious, as he ate the dinner Nana made for him. “Like not even for college?”
“She didn’t go to college at all,” Nana answers. “And she likes it here. Why do you make staying in Jeju-do sound like a living hell?”
Haechan shrugs. “It’s not like that, Nana. I mean, God knows what I’d do to get a normal life and go to college in Seoul and do what normal people in their early twenties do.”
Nana smiles at him. “This is probably what normal is for her. Not everyone has big dreams like you.”
“Why wouldn’t they?” Haechan asks. “Dreams are free. It doesn’t cost anything to dream. Why wouldn’t people want to have big dreams?”
“Aren’t you the lucky one to have a dream and to be able to live your dream?” Nana says. She finishes up her meal and watches Haechan eat. “How are you, Donghyuck-ah?”
Haechan stops chewing and braces himself. Nobody’s asked him how he is. He continues chewing like it’s not a question that’s been weighing him under.
“I’m okay,” he answers, mouth full of food. “They didn’t fire me. So, I guess I should be grateful. I’m okay.”
“You know that you don’t have to lie to Nana, right?” She asks, smile kind and warm.
And Haechan wants to say it all. Out loud. Maybe even cry.
But he is not about to let his grandmother carry his burdens with her. Burdens that shouldn’t even matter because he’s so lucky to have the life he has now. Burdens that are nothing compared to other people’s.
“Come on, Donghyuck-ah,” she urges. “Talk to Nana. Tell me what’s wrong, my dear.”
“Halmeoni,” he firmly says. “I said I’m okay. I’m tired. Thank you for the meal.” He bows and stands to leave.
Life has a singer means Haechan had to sacrifice a lot, indeed.
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Nana leaves a box of things Haechan would need while he’s in Jeju-do before her trusted chauffeur takes her to the town’s market for some business.
Haechan finds himself wearing the same fit as you the day before: a pair of overalls, an old, non-branded shirt that looks like it’s been worn and washed 300 times. Nana left a list of chores to do, and there’s no way Haechan is doing all of those. He’s taking a walk around the fields, supervise like how the owner’s grandson should, bask on the sunlight for a bit, then go back to his room and play some games with strangers online.
You’re waiting by the patio, sitting and looking at the opposite direction so he only sees your back, when Haechan comes out, dressed up for the role but not ready for whatever today brings him.
“Took you long enough,” you grumble as he steps out of the house. You stand and turn to look at him. “Lock the door and let’s get going. You’re late on your first day.”
“Chill out, sweet cheeks,” he scoffs, reaching behind the door and locking it before slamming it shut. “You’re not the boss of me.”
You nod, chuckling. “I’m not. But your grandmother is. And she added your list to the name of workers joining us to harvest today. You will be paid by the hour.”
Haechan gasps lightly in disbelief. “I don’t need to work. We own this place.”
“Hmm,” you hum, feigning curiosity as you tap your index finger to your chin as if you’re thinking hard. “You know I manage this whole place, right? Which means I also manage its taxes and permits annually. I’ve never seen your name in any of the papers I play with every day.”
“Same fucking thing,” he mumbles, walking past you to reach the gate. Haechan finds two horses waiting for him outside. He turns, ready to ask you what kind of joke you’re pulling on him, but he finds you going around the house, perhaps to make sure everything’s locked and all. You catch up on him, eyebrows raised when he points to the horses.
“Don’t tell me you can’t ride a horse,” you ask, seemingly in disbelief that someone like him isn’t capable of riding a horse. “You can’t work in the fields just walking. You’ll tire yourself out and will waste most of your working hours just walking.”
“I—I’m really not—” Haechan falters for a second, but comes back as quickly as he goes. “It’s been years since the last time I rode a horse. I’m not certain if I can do that now.” You give him a questioning look. “Besides. I’m a celebrity if you haven’t noticed it already. What if I break a bone?”
“You’ll live.”
“What if I fall and break my face?”
“Seoul has the best plastic surgeons.”
“My legs! They were injured before. I can’t afford to get another injury!”
“You’ll be fine. You’re such a drama queen.”
“I’m a star!”
At that, you burst out into a fit of laughter, the kind that Haechan would normally join in, because what he just said is truly ridiculous. He can’t believe he said that himself. But, of course, he can’t just laugh with, basically, a stranger.
“Oh my God, Lee Donghyuck,” you say in between laughter.
Something ignites something in him, the way you just said his name.
Haechan is a name he loves, an alter-ego he adores, a character he lives. Full sun, because that’s what he wants to be. He wants to bring light to everyone looking up to him, and he wants to be remembered by the way his voice warms the entire planet. He loves hearing cheers and applause when he introduces himself as Haechan. Because Haechan is talented. Haechan is an ace, an all-rounder who can do anything an idol is expected to do, perhaps even more. Haechan is bright and positive, and he likes making people laugh and at the same time uncomfortable of the influx of skinship he offers. Haechan loves the lights and cameras on stage, and he adores the way his name is in every city he goes to.
Meanwhile, Lee Donghyuck, he’s heard in a million times. Mark still calls him Donghyuck like they never aged since 2013, even Doyoung and Jeno. His parents seldom call him Haechan, never for Nana. His fans also have been calling him Donghyuck since they learned his birth name is Donghyuck, sometimes Hyuck or Hyuckie, which he finds really endearing.
Yet no one’s ever called him his name like he’s nothing but just Lee Donghyuck. Not for a long time. Not from someone before Haechan.
Donghyuck suddenly feels like he’s twelve again, the year he left Jeju-do and had to say goodbye to all of his friends with a promise to keep in touch and to never forget. Donghyuck finds himself looking at the way you’re laughing, how you have your eyes closed, mouth agape and melodies of your amusement coming out like a song he thought he’d forgotten but know all the words to, and he finds himself thinking, maybe being Lee Donghyuck isn’t so bad.
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His first day at the farm didn’t go as quick as expected and if Donghyuck could say so himself, it’s the longest fucking day in his entire life.
Evidently, he couldn’t ride a horse to save his life. He doesn’t even know why he’d told you it’s been a long time when the only time he ever rode a horse was when he was eleven for a field trip and only to take a god damn picture to make his mother smile. You and him were only a couple of horse steps or whatever away from Nana’s home and his horse was already squirming and more like threatening to throw him ten meters away, hence, you begrudgingly offered to have him ride with you. Donghyuck didn’t decline, of course, because it was either walk around the place under the hot sun or die at the hands of a stupid horse. You had let him sit behind you, skillfully and impressively holding the other horse by its rope, Donghyuck’s arms reluctantly wrapped around your waist because he didn’t want to fall, and if you were uncomfortable, you didn’t say anything about it.
You had taken him to a tour within his grandparents’ land, and Donghyuck is already twenty-three when he realized his grandparents are big time, like for real. The land isn’t as big as the others, ones that are owned by a big corporation, people who aren’t even from Jeju-do but like to play agricultural monopoly, but it’s bigger than most. Nana was too humbled when she’d told him the night before that he would need to help out in their “small” business.
The business is nowhere near small, with hundreds of tangerine trees scattered around, blooming in the famous Jeju-do delicacy, and she had forty to fifty employees working for her.
“Not really like full-time employees,” you had explained when Donghyuck verbalized his surprise with the number of people working for the farm. “Normally, it’s just me and Nana and a few other people who handle the delivery, quality assurance, and sales in the farmer’s market, which I’d need to take you to tomorrow, and also some folks from Seoul who handle the cargo shipping to the cities. But when it’s harvest season, we really would need more than ten pairs of hands to help out.”
“So, like, all year, there’s only around ten people are here,” Donghyuck confirmed, hands still on your waist as the horse came to a stop. “And on harvest season, Nana hires more people to help out. That’s really nice. Could be a good summer job for students and all.”
You hummed in agreement, patting the horse that Donghyuck learned you named as Daisy. “But normally, you’d find older people working here instead of the younger ones.”
“Oh?” Donghyuck’s curious. “That’s a little odd. I mean, isn’t the job physically tiring?”
You shrugged. “The elderly, well, they don’t really have a lot of opportunities to work here, you know, considering that Jeju-do has become more of like a tourist island than a self-sufficient, thriving agricultural place. You’ve probably heard of the water park they’d built nearby the airport and other big corporations taking over and building their stores here and there. And of course, they’d most likely hire younger people who can relate to the Korean Wave your group caused, right?”
“Keeping tabs?”
You scoffed at that. “As if! Now, get down before I ask Daisy to wiggle her ass and throw you off.”
After the supposed short tour that took an hour because, well, their land is enormous, you take him where some of the elderly people are harvesting.
“This is Donghyuck,” you’d introduced. “Nana’s grandson from Seoul. He’ll be helping us today. So, halmeoni, don’t even think about getting him off the hook because he’s Nana’s grandson. He will be paid for the day like everyone else. You wouldn’t want someone to get paid the same, only to work half of what you do, right?”
The older women laughed at the way you’d introduced him, and he feels his heart swell with the way you’re laughing with them and how they looked at him with so much tenderness. And normally, Donghyuck doesn’t like the look of tenderness, especially when directed to him, but today, it felt warm. Warmth like never before.
“You grew up so handsome, Donghyuck-ah,” one of the women said. “But I thought you’d be taller, you know. You had such long limbs when you were younger.”
Donghyuck feigned offense, clutching his chest. “Ahjumma, you should’ve stopped at the word handsome.”
“Tangerines ripen earlier than other citruses, so they can escape damage from freezes that will harm midseason varieties such as grapefruit and sweet oranges. Most varieties will be ready for picking during the winter and early spring, although the exact tangerine harvest time depends on the cultivar and region,” you explain, following the lead while Donghyuck and two other guys around yours and his age trail behind you. He apparently needs some training before he can start working.
“How do we know if they’re ready to be picked?” Joohyuk, one of the part-timers, ask.
You will know it’s about harvest time for tangerines when the fruit is a good shade of orange and begins to soften a bit. This is your chance to do a taste test,” you answer, stopping to show an abundant tangerine tree. You pick one out and show it to Donghyuck and the rest. “Cut the fruit from the tree at the stem with hand pruners. If after your taste test the fruit has reached its ideal juicy sweetness, proceed to snip other fruit from the tree with the hand pruners.”
You proceed to show them how it’s cut and hand them a piece each. Donghyuck likes that the fruit is sweet, not sour.
The ahjummas find your group and start handing baskets to Donghyuck and the guys, telling them they’d guide them all throughout.
He found himself spending the rest of the morning getting to know the people harvesting tangerines and making them laugh like it’s his job. He learned all their names one by one, their families briefly, and what they used to do before they retired. By the time it’s lunch, Donghyuck was about to say goodbye and perhaps ask you to take him back to his house, the group from the other side of the farm joined their area, all packed with bags of lunch.
They asked him to join, of course, but Donghyuck refused, in respect of their time to relax and take a break, and asked if you could take him home instead. You agreed, of course, mumbling that you would also need to go home to feed your dog.
“I’ll pick you up at 1:15,” you say as soon as Donghyuck lands on his feet. “Don’t sleep, please. The ahjummas will be expecting you. It’ll be a lot hotter, so drench your celebrity skin with twice the amount of sunscreen you’d normally use.”
“Yeah,” Donghyuck responds, itching to say thank you, but not enough to actually say it. He rubs Daisy’s neck instead. “You—I, okay.”
“O-kay,” you nod and whistle to signal Daisy to turn and walk the other way.
Nana waits for him by the patio. “How was your first day?”
“It’s not even over yet,” he sighs, slumping his butt on one of the patio’s stairs. “Nana, I can’t believe you’re making me work while I’m on vacation.”
“Your father never said anything about a vacation,” she responds, smiling as she struggles to sit beside him. Donghyuck helps her. “You’re here for some time away from work, right?”
“Yeah, a vacation,” he emphasizes.
Nana reaches to move the fringe covering a part of his eyes. “Let’s call this your healing time. But I wouldn’t call it a vacation because a vacation for you only means playing computer games until the sun rises then sleeping all day.”
“You should stop talking to Seungyeon about me,” he mumbles, looking sideways to find his grandmother looking at him lovingly. “And I don’t only play computer games. I also listen to a lot of music.”
“Try not to think about the limelight while you’re here,” she says. “The farm needs some help now. And it’s the best time for you to learn about the family business in case you don’t make it back in Seoul.” Donghyuck groans, burying his face in his hands, and Nana laughs at him. “That’s a possibility you should be considering, Donghyuck-ah.”
“Nana, you’re making me feel worse,” he whines. “You just told me not to think about the limelight, how can I not when you just said what you said!”
“I’m only joking,” she admits. “No one is ever going to take the limelight away from you, Donghyuck-ah, even if they try. You were born for the stage, and I know it’s everything you’ve ever wanted.”
Donghyuck looks up at her. “Is it bad that it’s all I want?”
Nana shakes her head and offers a kind smile. “Having a dream like yours is never bad, Donghyuck-ah. I know that eventually you’d have to leave and go back to where you really belong: the limelight. But all I’m saying is, stepping out of the light isn’t as bad as you think it is.”
“Right.”
“Tell me how it was in the farm.”
“The ladies love me,” he chuckles. “I’m quite popular even in the small villages of Jeju-do, aren’t I?”
“You sure are,” she agrees. “They’ve been asking about you for a long time. Looks like your Nana isn’t the only one who missed you.”
“How come they still remember me?” he asks before he can think about it. “I mean, I’m sorry, but I’ve forgotten about most people here. They still remember how I used to play around and sing for small events.”
It’s true. It caught him by surprise that the workers still remembered him—and not only because he’s a celebrity now, but they remember him by the small, insignificant happenstances when he was younger. Like for example, one of them mentioned how he was once was injured, his pinky finger to be exact, because he was running like a madman when his mother had given him permission to go play computer games with his cousin. He doesn’t remember that person being there, but he knows his grandmother talked about it like it was a news about a hurricane hitting Seoul at that time it happened.
It makes Donghyuck wonder how many people remember him, and how many people he’d forgotten and left behind for his dreams.
“Our world here in Jeju-do is small,” Nana explains. “People like you, who left, well, while ours remain humble and small, while we fade into the background and slowly become insignificant, yours become bigger. So, while we remember, you forget, slowly, one by one—and nobody blames you for forgetting, Donghyuck-ah.”
Oh, look. Another burden, another truth that Donghyuck has to carry for the rest of his life. Another reason not to fall asleep tonight.
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There is a small, local store located down the road from his grandmother’s house. They don’t sell nearly half the number the ones local convenience stores in Seoul would, but Donghyuck likes to think it’ll do. Soju and beer taste the same anyway, regardless of where he buys it.
With the faint, beaten yellow paint from its exterior, the store has been around even before Donghyuck was born. It’s the village’s very own convenience store, after all. There weren’t any rival stores like how it would look like in Seoul where every corner of every street one would find a convenience store. From where Donghyuck stands, the store doesn’t like look like it’s changed much in a decade.
For some reason, Donghyuck remembers how much Renjun likes reading neuroscience studies for fun. He doesn’t know anyone else who would read neuroscience studies. For fun. But anyway, back to his point, there was a neuroscience study that Renjun has been blabbing about during their US tour. It was something about when someone recalls an old memory, a representation of the entire event is instantaneously reactivated in the brain that often includes the people, location, smells, music, and other trivia. Recalling old memories can have a cinematic quality. Memories often seem to play out in the mind's eye like an old Super 8 home movie or vintage Technicolor film. Neuroscientists discovered that when someone tries to remember a singular aspect of an event from his or her past—such as a recent birthday party—that a complete representation of the entire scene is reactivated in the brain like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle coming together to create a vivid recollection. The new research reveals that humans remember life events using individual threads, that are coupled together into a tapestry of associations.
Donghyuck’s never really understood what Renjun meant at that time, except now.
He stands there, a good ten-meter distance from where you’re sitting. The pavement on the sidewalk isn’t the most comfortable place to sit in, but Donghyuck thinks it might just be, with how comfortable and at peace you look: legs stretched out to the street, headphones covering your ears, a book (or a journal perhaps, Donghyuck can’t see well from here) in one of your hands while the other is twirling a pen.
The scene takes him back to ten years ago, in the exact same place where you’re sitting, and if Donghyuck thinks about it now, it seems like nothing’s really change—except he’s almost twenty-three now, and despite him standing a few meters away from you, it feels like you and him are worlds away. And from what it looks like, you still love writing as much as Donghyuck loves singing.
It was a warm evening in May 2013, a couple of weeks before school ended and summer would officially start, counting down the nights when Donghyuck would have to move back to Seoul, and it was way too hot for Donghyuck’s liking. Nana didn’t have an air-conditioning system yet; his father was working hard to get her one before they leave for Seoul because summers can be crazy hot in Jeju-do. And Donghyuck needed a popsicle so bad, otherwise, he’d probably explode.
He found you the same place where you are now. Donghyuck thought your SHINEE shirt looked cute because while girls your age liked the newly debuted EXO, you still listened to SHINEE like a religion. You were sitting with your legs sprawled on the street, right under the streetlight, a pen in one hand and your old, beaten up journal on the other. Your eyebrows were furrowed, and Donghyuck caught himself before he could start thinking about how pretty you looked like that: focused and doing what you loved.
Donghyuck decided not to disrupt your focus and opted to go straight inside the small store, spending the last of his money on yours and his favorite: lime and cherry twin popsicle—the kind that’s packaged in one, two flavors in one, lime green and cherry red colors separated in the middle between popsicle sticks. Lime for you, cherry for him. You didn’t look up when he sat beside you, but took the lime-flavored popsicle from his hand when he handed it to you after peeling off the plastic cover and breaking it into two.
“Thanks,” you mumbled, taking the ice-cold treat in your mouth. Donghyuck couldn’t help but think his cherry-flavored popsicle resembled the color of your lips.
Donghyuck nodded his thoughts away, leaning in to peak at the page you’re working on. “What are you working on?” he asked it while the popsicle rested on one side of his mouth, his left cheek protruding.
You shrugged, taking the popsicle off your mouth, showing your work to him. Donghyuck found it endearing that you write all over the pages of your journals, it was as though he could see your train of thoughts: some smudged, some erased under ink but not really because he could still read through it, some clear as day, some to never see daylight again.
“I was in Science class today,” you started.
“We’re in the same homeroom, dumbass. I was there.”
“I’m talking,” you whined. “And I doubt you were even listening. You hate Science more than anything.”
“Fair point,” he hummed. “Okay, what about Science class? Please don’t tell me you’ll start writing about Science. Because I’m so sorry. I’ll never read any of your work ever again if you decide to do that.”
You laughed, the melody of your fondness of his jokes creating its own room inside the crevices of Donghyuck’s brain. “Teacher Kim was talking about symbiosis.”
“I’m not even going to pretend I know what that means.”
“Symbiosis is a term describing any relationship or interaction between two dissimilar organisms. The specific kind of symbiosis depends on whether either or both organisms benefit from the relationship,” you continued. “Butterflies and flowers, they are the best examples of symbiosis.”
Donghyuck nodded, savoring the sweetness of his cherry-flavored treat.
“Hence I did some research and read more about butterflies and flowers, and I read something a little sad,” you trailed off. “I learned that certain flowers bloom when butterflies hatch and depends on how they match each other. Butterflies, they prefer light-colored flowers they can perch on. So, when the timing is off, the flower misses the butterfly. The butterfly, therefore, finds another flower.”
“Then what happens to the flower?” Donghyuck asked, watching as you try to catch the melting piece off your popsicle, taking it back to your mouth. Your lips looked really pretty. “If it misses all the timing?”
“Well,” you shrugged, looking up to the night sky. The stars in Jeju-do that night were much prettier than it is in Seoul. “They bloom again next year, and hope that maybe next time, the timing is better. That the butterfly arrives just in time for the flowers to bloom.
“That is a little sad,” Donghyuck acknowledged. He watched you look back down, grimacing a little as you take the popsicle off your mouth. “Wanna try mine?” he asked before he could think about it.
You looked back at him. The stars in Jeju-do turned out to be nothing compared to your eyes. “Yeah?”
Donghyuck pulled the sweet treat from his mouth just as you hand him your lime-flavored one. He took it in his mouth, and Donghyuck had never been the biggest fan of anything sour, but for some reason, the lime flavor tasted sweeter than ever. You took his cherry-flavored ones, groaning in delight as you taste the treat’s sweetness.
“Cherry has always been my favorite,” you’d confessed, and Donghyuck was surprised because you’d always gotten the lime-flavored ones. The twin pops were your thing since you met summer of 2006—it was cheap, practical for two kids, two-in-one; you’d always choose the lime ones. “God, this is good.”
“You literally always take the lime ones,” he argued. “My whole life has been a lie. I’ve always thought lime was your favorite because you always take it whenever we get this!”
You shrugged. “You never liked anything sour,” you said like it’s the easiest thing to say, like it didn’t make Donghyuck’s heart somersault. “And I can take a little bit of sourness if it means you enjoy your cherry-flavored popsicle.”
Donghyuck was only twelve. He didn’t know anything about falling in love, but that night might just be the closest thing.
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“So, you drink alcohol to help you fall asleep?” you ask as if it’s the most interesting solution to insomnia. Donghyuck thinks it isn’t; he’s read somewhere online that alcohol really helps. “That’s stupid.”
Donghyuck shrugs. “It’s not really working great right now. But it helps.”
He sits beside you on the sidewalk, legs sprawled out just like yours, a can of cold beer one hand while the other holds him up, flat on the rough pavement. There’s no particular reason why Donghyuck’s talking to you now. You and him got off the wrong foot, and it’s not like you can really blame Donghyuck for seeing a (supposed) stranger sleeping at his grandmother’s patio. And you were friends. Even though it’s been years, Donghyuck reckons talking to you would do no harm. Besides, if he’s staying here for a few months, a companion would probably make it less miserable.
“And your father thinks coming to Jeju-do would help, too?” you ask.
Donghyuck chuckles. “I guess you could say that. What else have you heard about me?”
You look at him, away from the street and right into his eyes. Donghyuck wonders why he didn’t recognize you the first time he saw you. Your face looks the same from the day he bid you goodbye a decade ago—lips colored in cherry, eyes bright as the stars, cheeks soft all over.
“A lot,” you answer. “But I’ve never been one to believe in rumors anyway.”
Donghyuck licks his lips. “The rumors are true.”
“Not about the sleeping around and getting drunk, pabo,” you mutter. “That, I believe.”
“Which ones?” he asks.
“People are saying you no longer like being on stage,” you say. It’s not the first time Donghyuck’s heard it. “That you’ve been burnt out from working all these years. And that you don’t care about music anymore.”
Donghyuck snickers. “That’s true, too.” He throws his head back, chugging on the cold beer. “I’m so over it. I don’t even care what happens after this.”
“Oh, Donghyuckie,” you whisper softly, eyes still glued to his face. “What has the limelight done to you?”
Donghyuck only shrugs, finishing off the rest of the cold beer, helping himself up and taking the plastic bag full of iced cold beer from the store.
“I don’t think that’s something you should be worried about,” Donghyuck says. You keep your eyes on him, so you’re looking up from where you’re seated and Donghyuck looks down on you. “It’s getting late. Wanna go drink at Nana’s?”
“Nana would kill you if she finds alcohol inside her house,” you say.
“I’ve snuck in about twenty bottles since I arrived last week and she hasn’t noticed,” he confesses.
“You’re a fucking nightmare,” you laugh.
Donghyuck freezes for a moment, watching you stand in between giggles. Mark said the same think a couple of weeks ago, but it doesn’t sting when you say it. You say it in laughter. Like it’s okay. Like it doesn’t scare you.
“My house is down the street,” you say, helping yourself up and standing in front of him. Donghyuck remembers. “I’ll call Nana and let her know you’re with me.”
A bark startles Donghyuck for a second. You and him turn to find a golden Labrador running towards where you stand.
“Aw, my baby’s here to pick me up,” you announce with the softest voice. The lab runs, almost dashes towards you, and Donghyuck is taken aback when it tackles him—not you—knocking the plastic bag off his hands and resulting to him landing his butt back to the pavement. “Pororo!” you shriek, not in surprise but with a tone of betrayal. “I’m your mother!”
Donghyuck hears you shriek, but laughs through it because the golden lab is hogging him, licking him all over as if he’d miss him all these years. “Oh, baby, you’re so cute,” he coos, cradling the dog by its face, looking up at you as the dog licks his face. “This is yours?”
You fight back a smile, but you lose immediately because your face breaks with a grin. “What has the limelight done to you?” you ask, the same question from earlier, but a different tone—teasing, nostalgic, like years ago.
The dog sniffs him all over and you stand there watching them.
“Can’t even recognize your own dog now?” you tease, walking so you could pet the dog and have him follow you. “It’s the puppy Nana got you a month before you left Seoul. You couldn’t bring him with you, and Nana couldn’t take care of him when you left, so I adopted him, pabo.”
“Pororo?” Donghyuck finally, finally recognizes. Pororo looks like he’s nodding, like saying thank God, you remembered me! The dog goes back to tackle him. “Oh, Pororo! My baby!”
You lead the way to your house, Pororo following after you. He watches you take several steps ahead of him. He feels dizzy watching the scene in front of him. Donghyuck understands what Renjun is talking about now.
Humans remember a singular aspect of an event from his or her past that a complete representation of the entire scene is reactivated in the brain like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle coming together to create a vivid recollection. You’re the representation of his entire life in Jeju-do, a clear image before Haechan, and he’s fucking sorry he forgot about you all these years.
But that’s an apology you’d never hear from him. Instead, he watches you, taking a small step towards you, and decides he’ll allow his unsaid apology to be added on the long list of reasons why he can’t sleep at night.
Nostalgia comes in waves, they say, but why do you bring it to him like a hurricane?
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Donghyuck could say that Nana is impressed with the drastic change of character in the span of six weeks.
She’s been treating him better these days; by “better”, Donghyuck means she’s been cutting off a few hours from work so he could spend more time at her home, guarding the hens and roosters that serve at her alarm clock and watering her plants from her small vegetable garden. She’s also been paying him, giving him a small envelope with cash and a small paper that resembled a payslip showing the number of hours he’d work for the week, and Donghyuck ignores the quick jump from his heart when he sees your signature at the end of it, affirming that the hours listed are accurate. Donghyuck takes the money, of course, after Nana threatened to beat him up because she’d be breaking Korea’s labor laws if he doesn’t accept it, and he keeps it all in a small box in his room, planning to show it to his members when he goes back to Seoul and brag about working like a normal civilian at the age of 23.
There is a pinch in his heart when he remembers his members. While Donghyuck has been working on (and failing to) sober up for an entire month, his members have not called nor texted him. He’d been reaching out, of course. Some of his members have been assigned solo projects and activities in the last month, and he ensures to congratulate them. All he’s gotten so far are the receipts that his messages have been read.
Donghyuck convinces himself that it’s probably SM that advised everyone not to give him a time of their day, that they probably think being away from work means disconnecting from everyone, too, that his members love him and also believe that he needs some time off from everything.
But the convincing can only do much. The convincing distracts him while he’s at work, or while he’s watering Nana’s plants, but it doesn’t do much at night. Still, after six weeks, Donghyuck is nowhere near clean.
He wakes up with a terrible headache every day (from lack of sleep or hangover, he’s not really certain), and his Nana has been oddly making hangover soup for breakfast. Donghyuck wonders whether you’d ratted him out or his mother had called her about it. Either way, she probably knows something’s up.
His mother had called him a few times now, Seungyeon, too, and it’s been casual. His mother’s voice always sounded like she’s walking on eggshells whenever she’d call, blurting a half-assed apology for not seeing him before he left and telling him she’d forgiven him and that she’s looking forward to seeing her in a few months. Seungyeon talks to him the most, almost every day, in short text messages and 10-minute calls on the weekends when she doesn’t have to worry about waking up early the next day.  And she talks to him about the most random thing, nothing ever related to his obsession with drinking or the scandal, which makes Donghyuck feel better somehow.
Six weeks didn’t make much of a difference, not that Donghyuck was expecting any. The only thing that’s changed so far is that, he’s not as exhausted as he was in Seoul despite his shitty sleeping schedule continuously fucking up his already deteriorated mental health. He hasn’t been listening to songs for quite a while, and he’s been drinking every night. And if it means anything to him, you’ve been hanging out with him while he drinks.
In six weeks, he learns that you’re not much of a drinker. You don’t have many friends that you could really invite for a drink in a nearby pub or in a samgyeopsal restaurant. You’d mentioned that most people your age have all moved on to different places, spewing names that were once familiar to Donghyuck and telling him where they are now. Donghyuck is yet to learn why you had stayed in Jeju-do, not once stepping in Seoul, when the world off this island’s shores are much, much bigger than you think.
It’s two in the morning. You’d taken him home because he could barely keep his head up with the number of soju bottles he had downed, and he appreciates that you try to stay quiet when you put him to bed and leave, keeping the blinds closed because he’d told you once that the morning sunlight seeping through spaces between the curtains hurt his eyes. You’d left when Donghyuck’s barely awake.
His phone dings a notification. Donghyuck probably won’t remember so he reaches over, checking it and recognizing his mother’s name.
She sends him an article about the upcoming debut of NCT DoJaeJung, and Donghyuck’s seen it in the groupchat for some time now. Donghyuck isn’t even halfway down the article when she sends another one: Mark’s solo song.
She doesn’t add another message, and he sees her status change from online to offline in a split second, but she doesn’t really have to say anything else for him to understand.
Donghyuck’s dream has always been the spotlight.
Or at least, as he recognizes now, his mother’s dream for him has always been the spotlight.
Donghyuck always thought he loved making people happy and singing equally.
While people called him kind and a ray of sunshine, Mark’s always called him out for being a people-pleaser, reminding him that he doesn’t have to make sure everyone is happy with the choices he’d make, telling him he doesn’t have to feel the strong urge to please everyone. And Donghyuck never understood it until now, now that he’s wide awake and looking at his mother’s messages. She’s probably expecting a solo project for him, too, and she sends these things that make her happy, and she’s already expecting him he’d do it no matter what. Donghyuck’s mother is a good person; he’d look up at her and think to himself that when he grows up, he’d want to be as supportive as his mother, and don’t get him wrong when he says she expects him to do anything that’d make her happy. Because this is all Donghyuck’s fault, anyway.
With his desire to make her the happiest, he’s done everything he could to make her happy, even at his own expense.
The infamous Saturday audition at SM was something Donghyuck never thought about—not at the age of 13 when he had just gotten back in Seoul after five years of staying in Jeju-do. His accent has changed and he reckons he could have a good relationship with boys his age who grew up in the city. And as much as he loved performing, Donghyuck doesn’t like being criticized. He doesn’t like rejection, and he can’t bare the thought of adults telling him he couldn’t sing.
Hence, his initial answer to his mother’s proposal to visit SM Entertainment and give it a try was no. The only thing that had made him go, knees shaking and palms sweaty, was his mother’s words: “It’ll truly make me happy if you give it a try.”
She’d said it in many occasions, and Donghyuck’s given everything that’d make her happy a try. She’d never said a bad thing and even told him a few times that it’s okay if he doesn’t want to, but he does it anyway.
Donghyuck was afraid that she’d love him less if he didn’t make her happy. He was only thirteen, and his twenty-three now, and his biggest fear hasn’t changed: to be loved less because he didn’t make them happy enough.
So, Haechan blurts out the most random jokes when the cameras are on and initiates skinship with the member even if they abhor him for it and style his hair a different way, because it makes the fans happy. Haechan stays up learning the tune of the new song and recording himself in his phone for hours even after an entire day of physical activities, because it makes the producers happy. Haechan takes his friends and the younger members to dinner after a 16-hour flight from the west on the night of his birthday—his eyes barely open the entire time—because it makes them happy. Haechan plays the maknae role perfectly, even when at times he’s tired of it, because it makes the older members happy. Haechan continues to be a sunny and bright character even on days when he’s exhausted, because it makes his managers happy.
But the truth is, Donghyuck doesn’t like dyeing his hair. His hair’s gotten so unhealthy from dyeing it different colors last year.
Donghyuck feels awful sometimes, when his friends do not return his affection, but he plays it off, feigning hurt even when it actually does.
Donghyuck wants to sleep after a 16-hour flight.
Donghyuck wants to drink with his hyungs, too.
Donghyuck just wants to sing and write songs when he’s learned enough.
Donghyuck doesn’t want to be like Mark, or Doyoung, or anyone else.
Donghyuck wants Haechan to be… Donghyuck.
Donghyuck wants to be happy—in his own terms, by his own choices.
But how can he be happy when he’s always depended his happiness on the people he loves?
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Donghyuck feels like a dead man walking.
You and Donghyuck are tasked to bring the harvested fruits at the farmer’s market in the early hours of Sunday.
It’s barely five in the morning, and the sun’s not even out yet, but you had forced him to sleep early the night before to make sure he’d accompany you to the market. (He didn’t sleep though; he lied awake until his phone rang and you’re calling from outside.) You’d driven the farm’s truck to get here, and Donghyuck can’t help but admire the way you hold the steering wheel with one hand.
Donghyuck helps you carry the boxes out of the truck, arranging them in front of his grandmother’s store. You had walked in while he carries the rest inside and Donghyuck hears you talk to Eunseuk, his Nana’s sales person who handles and manages their place in the public market.
“That’s awful,” Donghyuck hears you say as soon as he places the last of the boxes in a corner. “Can’t the mayor do anything about it?
Eunseuk sighs, shaking her head. “Unfortunately, it looks like the donation project Nana’s driven wasn’t enough. She barely made enough profit last quarter because she’d donated most of it to the project.”
“What is awful and what project are we talking about?” Donghyuck interrupts.
Eunseuk smiles sadly at him. “The clinic that Nana’s been proposing to the mayor for years now. The town’s mayor thinks it’s not going to be built this year.” Donghyuck’s never heard of it.
“The community has a lot of elderly people who live alone in Jeju-do,” you explain when you notice his curiosity. “Especially in here in the island, even more here in our town. Most people leave Jeju-do at the age of eighteen to find a better life in Seoul, which is ridiculous because there’s no place better than Jeju-do, and Nana thought it’d be great if she built a small clinic for the elderly nearby, that way they wouldn’t have to travel fifty kilometers to visit the nearest hospital. It’d be great if the elderly can have themselves checked for free and to have, if not all, most equipment they’d need.”
“How is that possible?” Donghyuck asks.
“Well,” Eunseuk starts. “First, we need the funds to actually build the clinic itself. Nana is halfway through the amount needed. The mayor’s children are doctors, and if he wants to keep winning the next elections, I’m sure he’d be happy to have them volunteer.”
“What about maintenance?” he asks.
“Good question,” you say. “And good thinking. I like it, you’re already thinking ahead, Donghyuck-ah. Anyway, the elderly is very much willing to do community service in exchange of the maintenance of the small clinic. And don’t worry, it’s not like Nana’s going to make them work like horses.”
“Services like crocheting products for the local market,” Eunseuk adds. “Food manufacturing—the kind that would allow them to make while sitting down, local farming, jewelry-making, and the like. Things we can sell in the market. You know how tourists are so keen on buying anything hand-made.”
“So, a clinic for the elderly built and maintained by the elderly?” Donghyuck sums up.
“Exactly!”
“How much are we looking at in terms of money?” He asks.
You chuckle. “If you’re grandmother wanted to ask money from you, she would have already. She has some kind of pride, you know.”
“Well, I’ll give it you and you tell her it’s an anonymous donation.”
“As if she’d believe that bullshit,” you answer. “Anyway, Eunseuk-eonnie, what do we do now?”
The older woman shrugs. “We’ll keep selling tangerines until we reach the goal, I guess.”
Donghyuck talks before he could think about it. “I can do something.”
You and Eunseuk look at him like you’d just seen a ghost.
“I don’t know what I can offer,” he says right away. “But I’ll… I think I can do something.”
“Donghyuck,” you say. “You can sing.”
“I am aware,” he jokes.
“No, you can sing,” you repeat. Donghyuck looks back at you. “You can sing, so I’m sure you can teach people how to sing.”
“And?” He doesn’t get it.
“It’s summer,” you answer. “Most kids are bored and are probably looking for something meaningful to do while they wait for school to start again. Teach kids how to sing and have their parents pay for it!”
Donghyuck thinks it’s a good idea. “And you can write.”
You freeze. “No.”
“Teach kids how to write and have their parents pay for it.”
“Over my dead body!”
“I will do it only if you do it.”
Eunseuk laughs, “Oh, this is good.”
“No, Donghyuck. I’m not a professional writer. I didn’t even go to college. I don’t have the credentials for it.”
“You don’t have to go college to be a writer,” he snorts. “Scott Fitzgerald didn’t even finish college.”
“Where’d you even learn that?”
“You told me when we were kids!” he answers, laughing. “Come on, Y/N. I’m sure Nana can find someone to do your job in the farm while we teach kids.”
“I don’t know, Donghyuck,” you sigh.
Eunseuk lightly slaps your arm. “Come on, young lady. Do it for the elderly.”
“Yeah, Y/N, do it for the elderly.”
The sparkle in your eyes and the smile on your lips tell Donghyuck you agree.
And so, the plan goes accordingly.
Donghyuck could say that Nana is more than delighted to learn that his delinquent and embarrassing grandson, who’s spent all this time pretending he doesn’t care, had decided to help out. You’d done the most part, of course— obtaining the permit from the mayor’s office and settling all the paperwork needed. All Donghyuck had to do was to help clean up and renovate his grandfather’s old office in the farm. Everyone else who had some free time helped because apparently, that’s what this community does. Donghyuck could probably get used to receiving help without him asking for it.
So, in more or less five days, his grandfather’s old office, which is about forty square meters, had turned into the community’s summer class headquarters. You and Donghyuck decided to call it Nana’s Music and Literature Classes. And with the help of Eunseuk and some of the workers, the word spread like news from the radio. In a week’s time, you and Donghyuck have over twenty student each. Mondays and Wednesdays were his schedule; yours were Tuesdays and Thursdays. Fridays were called Hyuckie and Y/C/N’s day—which means you and him would dedicate an entire day brainstorming and talking about your class’ progress.
The summer courses would take eight weeks to complete, and at the end of it would be a competition, in which the Mayor promised he’d give a very big reward for. Those who enrolled in Donghyuck’s classes would have a recital at the end of summer where the kids will hold a small concert for the town—tickets to be sold as part of the drive, of course—and the judges will be identified to select three winners. As for your classes, it will be a short story competition, and the winners will be announced on the night of the small concert, which Donghyuck is the best ending any summer could have.
The place is cramped, and Donghyuck’s never been more excited his entire life.
He’s gone to many places and met with many prominent people in this lifetime. But he’s decided that this is the most exhilarating day of his life.
The parents leave as soon as Donghyuck assures them that the kids will be safe and will be all set for pick up by 3 in the afternoon. You’re talking to the kids while he ensures that the room is cool enough for everybody. The room is filled with excitement that Donghyuck could feel inside him. He learned from the parents he’d met just a few minutes ago that the town doesn’t really offer things like this for children and that they’d have to send their kids to summer camp in the mainland if they wanted them to experience this, and the fact that you and him are doing this for a cause makes it even better.
Donghyuck views this like it’s not as big as the drives NCT had been doing, or the charity concerts he takes part in, or the money he donates to various causes, but to the people of the town, it’s bigger than anything they had ever known.
“Aigoo,” one of the parents cooed when she’d seen Donghyuck greet everybody outside. “Your grandparents have always been kind. They’d been the pillar of this small town for quite some time now. I’m glad you’re growing up a good man.”
You’d smiled at him when you heard that, and Donghyuck wonders if you also think he’s growing up a good man, because he thinks you grew up to be such an amazing, compassionate person.
“Hello, kids!” Donghyuck greets. Everybody says it back with the same enthusiasm, and despite having been in hundreds of shows with thousands of people in the audience, he can’t remember the last time a crowd made him feel alive.
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Donghyuck hates being recognized.
When his career had just started, he thought that the greatest compliment was to be recognized. He thought that he’d measure his success with the number of people from the general public who could recognize him under a hat and with a face mask covering half his face. But in the latter years of his career, he’d learned the hard way that he hated being seen and being recognized.
There had been many happenstances in his job in which he’d just wish he was invisible for a moment. Anytime he’s in an airport, regardless it was for an event or concert overseas, or worst of it all, a vacation with his family, all Donghyuck wants is for people not to know who he is. In afternoon runs by himself, all he needs is a time alone and not girls following him and taking pictures of him. On days when he’s out with friends and family, all he hopes is peace. This comes with the job, Johnny would tell him whenever he’d get frisky and annoyed, but Donghyuck never really understood why his privacy is anyone’s business. Never really understood why he had to go through this when all he’s ever really wanted was sing.
Donghyuck hates being seen.
More than anything. Especially when he’s trying hard to hide. And he wishes he’s only talking about his physical appearance being seen. He hates that his grandmother sees through him but doesn’t say anything about it unless he opens up first. He hates that Mark, his best friend in the entire world, sees right through his walls and that all Donghyuck’s done is push him away and make him hate him even more. He hates that his father sees his pain, but doesn’t talk about it for some reason. He hates that you see him—all of him—but you don’t look at him with disgust or pity or anything of that sort.
It’s Friday, yours and his day, the second one since summer school’s started, and he’d started calling you by your childhood nickname again. You’d grimaced the first time and told him nobody’s called you that in a long time, but allowed him nonetheless.
The clock strikes six in the afternoon and the dusk had just settled in the horizon. You and him are sitting on the floor of his room, facing each other, separated by a small table, notepads scattered, ideas running a hundred miles per second.
“This is perfect,” you comment when you and him had finished planning out next week’s daily agenda. “The kids are going to love it!”
Donghyuck stays silent, eyes on you as you finally set your pen down.
“What should we have for dinner?” you ask, eyes still on the notepad. “Nana’s probably heating up some leftover galbi, but I think we should make some kimchi stew, too.”
Donghyuck hums. You look up at him. “What’s wrong?”
He shakes his head. “Nothing. I just had something in mind.”
You tilt your head. “Tell me.”
“It’s a question,” he says. “And if I say it, you’d have to answer.”
You think about it for a moment. Donghyuck almost takes it back. “Sure.”
“Really?”
You nod. “As long as you answer a question from me, too.”
Donghyuck pretends to think about it. “Can we set some rules?”
“It’s literally one question,” you snort. “Come on. Ask me.”
“No, ask me first,” he insists.
“You asked first.”
“No. Ask me first,” he repeats.
You scoff. “Fine. You have to tell me the truth, yeah?” A nod. “Ready?” Another.
Donghyuck holds his breath for a moment and you don’t say anything for about a minute, probably thinking the same as him: this is the only chance both of you are honest and open, might as well ask a question one wouldn’t answer on a normal day.
“How are you?”
He exhales the breath he’s been holding and nearly breaks down in tears when he hears the question you’d decided to ask. He’s sure you���ve heard of it all. Everything’s been all over the internet for the past two months he’d been in hiding in Jeju-do: the drinking, the nights in clubs and bars, the fights with the members, the cherry on top which is the scandal. It’d all spiraled into everything he was initially afraid of. The girl he’d met at the back of the club had sold him to reporters and had made up a story of how they’ve been in a sexual relationship for quite some time. The media had dug up stories of him being out of control in the streets when he’s shitfaced from all the soju he had and had posted tales of him asking multiple women to sleep with him whenever he’s drunk.
The agency sued everyone for making shit up, of course, but Donghyuck knows half of those are the truth. He has not been the best group member in a long time: always late in practices, grumpy and hangover during fan signs, lethargic during concerts, and fucking up performances. He’s lost himself, and he’s losing everyone in the process of it.
People ask him if he’d really had sex with someone at the back of a bar. They’d ask him why he never asked for help with his drinking problem. Comments from his Instagram would tell him to back off and just leave the group. Fans from calls and fan signs would ask him why he’d stop making covers of the songs he loved and why he hasn’t been on Bubble in a long period of time.
But nobody else had really asked him how he’s been aside from Nana, who he doesn’t have the heart to open up to.
“I—” He starts but swallows, breathing in. You wait for him. “I’m—I don’t really—I’m not sure if I can.”
You nod. “Take your time, Donghyuck.”
Donghyuck reminds himself to breathe.
How is he? How has been holding up after everything that’s happened?
He’s lost his spark. He’s lost his love for music, his passion for the stage, the sparkle in his eyes. He’s losing the people he loves. He’s losing his friends. And he’s losing a battle with himself.
He’s—
“I’m, ” he tries again. “Y/N, I’m not okay.”
It pours like rain, his tears. He shakes when he cries and his chest is tight and it’s hard to breathe, but he keeps crying because it’s the only time he ever will. He sobs in pain and holds himself when his entire body shakes from the ache of it all.
He’s grieving, weeping, like how one would in a funeral, because how does he ask for forgiveness? How does he ask forgiveness from his parents and siblings? From his members? From his fans? From the staff and the people who’d brought him to where he is? How does he ask forgiveness from little Donghyuck when all he’d wanted was for him to grow up a good man?
You let him cry, and only reach out to hand him a handkerchief when he’s done. You don’t say anything. Instead you kneel and reach over to hug him from the other side. Donghyuck accepts your tenderness.
“I don’t have anything else to ask,” you murmur against his hair. “But I do want to say that you’re loved in ways you probably have forgotten already. You’ve probably been used to love that’s loud—screaming and flamboyant and beautiful and everything anyone would want—but you’re also loved quietly. In a small, serene room. In a way you’ve forgotten.”
“Thank you,” he says, sniffling, a little embarrassed now. “I’m sorry. I probably ruined the moment.”
You chuckle, pulling away, and Donghyuck’s heart does flips when you kiss the top of his head like you always did when you were younger. He doesn’t know why he remembers all of a sudden.
“Stop apologizing,” you reply. “There’s nothing to apologize about.”
“There’s a lot,” he admits. “I didn’t recognize you the first time I saw you. We did everything when we were kids, and I didn’t recognize you.”
“And it’s okay,” you assure, holding the top of his hand that’s resting on the small table. “I didn’t expect you to recognize me right away. You were worlds away from me. We forget people and that’s okay.”
He shakes his head. “It’s not. I promised to keep in touch, and I never did. I’m sorry.”
You nod. “You’re forgiven.”
Donghyuck sighs in relief. “I doubt, but okay.”
“Trust me.” He does. “Anyway, you were going to ask me something. You’re not allowed to ask the same thing because I’d just answer that I’m tired and I want to sleep. Nothing big happens in my life.”
Donghyuck smiles again. “Ready?” A nod. “Why’d you never leave Jeju-do?”
It seems like you didn’t expect the question because your face tells Donghyuck you’re surprised by what he just asked. You lick your lip and exhale largely, looking everywhere but his eyes. Donghyuck allows you to take your time, and you’re not running away so he’s assuming you’re thinking of an answer for him.
“I don’t have a dream,” is your answer. “My parents think it’s not normal. Because even they had already left the town and moved to a bigger place off the island. People think it’s impossible that I don’t have a dream, that I must want something in life, I just haven’t discovered it yet. And I’m twenty-three, I’m still waiting for my awakening, for dreams to find me, but it hasn’t. I don’t want to do anything in life but just… survive.”
Donghyuck only listens. “In high school, when we were deciding what to take up in college and which college we’d go to, I had nothing in mind. I didn’t want a career—not an engineer, not a teacher, not a doctor, none of those. I couldn’t think of anything. Writing is something that I love doing, but I really can’t see myself pursuing it as a career. I don’t want to end up hating it. I’ve always been convinced that I wasn’t specifically good at anything apart from that. I’m okay with all subjects at school, average grades and all, but nothing ever stood out for me. I never stood out. And I was okay with it for a reason I still don’t know. I was okay with not having dreams. College was the only reason for me to leave Jeju-do. There’s nothing else, therefore I’m still here. At twenty-three, I haven’t accomplished much, and if you want me to be all out and honest,” you sigh. “It’s… it’s starting to scare me.”
“What scares you?”
“That I haven’t accomplished anything yet,” you admit. “I’m not one to, you know, force myself to people and make them remember me. I wasn’t scared of oblivion. Until… these days, I’ve been asking myself, how are people going to remember me?”
Donghyuck nods, urges you to continue.
“Are they going to remember me as someone who helps out in your Nana’s farm because I had nothing to do?” you voice out. “Are they going to remember me as someone who brings all the deliveries to the farmer’s market when the staff is unavailable? Are they going to remember be as Eunseuk’s co-worker? Are they going to remember me at all?”
 “Can I tell you something?” he asks but doesn’t wait for you to answer. “I know I’m not in the position to say anything about remembering you when I couldn’t recognize you the first time we met after a decade, but I remember you by the way I see cherry blossoms.”
You tilt your head to the side. “Is that a good thing?”
“We met in a puddle of fallen cherry blossoms in summer of 2006,” he explains. “I remember you by the way you admired flowers that fall off from its stem, by the way you loved fallen and broken things equally when they were perfect and when they stood still. I may have awfully forgotten you all these years, but the way I see cherry blossoms is the exact same way you see them.”
Donghyuck continues, “You know how they say we’re a manifestation of all the people we met, right? That we’re a mosaic of everything we’ve ever learned from them. To me, I remember you as the clear image of who I was before… before everything that’s happened. I remember you as someone helping me find my way back home.”
“Donghyuck,” you trail off. “That’s the… best thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
Donghyuck smiles. “And so, what if you don’t have big dreams? Dreams are just dreams anyway. You don’t have to have one if you don’t want to. You shouldn’t have to struggle so much in order to live.”
“Do people know you’re this kind and profound?” you chuckle. “People should see this side of Lee Donghyuck.”
“Call yourself lucky you’re the only one,” he answers.
“What’s wrong with people seeing this side?”
Donghyuck shrugs. “I don’t think they’d want the boring kind. I think they like me better when I’m funny and over the top and a sucker for attention.”
“Well,” you click your tongue. “I like you either way.”
Donghyuck is barely twenty-three. And if he knows anything about falling in love, this might just be the moment he truly learns it.
You and him end up falling asleep on his bed. Donghyuck likes to think he doesn’t really remember how it happened. You’d told him you’d sleep in the hammock at his house’s patio, but he’d insisted to sleep in his room, of course. Reason? Mosquitoes, of course. Donghyuck said he’d sleep on the floor, taking an extra pillow, but you were already half asleep, moving so your body is right by the wall, safe and sound. You’d save the extra space for him to sleep beside you. Donghyuck likes to think he’d fallen asleep because he was exhausted and not because he felt safe around you.
It’s the longest sleep he’s had in a long time.
He wakes up at eight in the morning, the room already warm despite the air-conditioning system still switched on. You are no longer beside him, but he clearly hears your voice from outside.
Donghyuck gets up, going straight outside and finds everyone from the farm gathered around for breakfast outside his grandmother’s house. He’d forgotten that his Nana invited everybody for a scrumptious breakfast today, Saturday, and he wonders why neither you nor Nana herself had woken him up to help out.
Farmers and harvesters pass a plate to one another. A long table is set up in the middle of Nana’s driveway space, various of dishes laid out, and Donghyuck finds you holding two pitchers of tangerine juice, walking around to fill up the workers’ cups.
It’s Eunseuk who sees Donghyuck standing by the patio watching everybody move around.
“There’s our Donghyuckie!” she announces.
Everyone looks at him and greets him a good morning. Nana shouts his name and asks him to come over and eat some breakfast. You squint when you look at him, the sun blinding your eyes, but you smile as soon as he waves hi.
Donghyuck can’t help but think being recognized is not so bad after all.
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Donghyuck spends the rest of summer like a kid.
Except he goes to work at Nana’s Music and Literature Classes on Mondays and Wednesdays, goes to the farm on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and spends his Fridays with you. He learns many things over the summer, especially about the community and the town itself. He meets more people as Donghyuck, Nana’s grandson who teaches children how to sing and who helps out in the farm two days a week. They accept him as he is, and he feels like seven again, meeting new people every day until they all remember him by his name.
Among the things he’s learned, he likes learning how your lips taste the most.
It was sudden, unplanned, the kind where he didn’t know he was doing it until he’s done it. You and him were ending a Friday session at your place that time, the place where he used to hide his drinks, and he was so elated that he wasn’t going home drunk for the first time since he arrived in Jeju-do. And he was bidding you goodbye. He’d leaned it like it was the most natural thing to do and caught your lips in his. You shrieked in surprise, unable to say anything, but tipped on your toes and gave him a second kiss before turning and running inside your house.
You didn’t talk about it, and Donghyuck felt like it was not something to talk about. You had voiced out you liked him in many occasions, and Donghyuck’s been relentlessly flirting with you since the night you fell asleep in his room. The signs were never mixed and the lines were never blurred. Donghyuck’s grown much closer to you more than anyone else in the world, and he’s been falling asleep in the safety of your arms these days. It was safe to say the kisses weren’t meaningless.
The night of his class’ recital comes quickly.
Donghyuck spend the entire two days practicing with each of his students while you were busy reading all of your students’ works and giving them feedback before they submit it to the Mayor’s office. You find him getting ready in his room, dressed in the only button-down shirt he brought from Seoul and a pair of slacks. Meanwhile, it’s the first time he’s seeing you in a dress that somehow matches the colors of his outfit.
“Looking great, handsome,” you say.
Donghyuck pulls you for a kiss. “Could say the same to you, beautiful.”
“Why are you so touchy these days?” you whine but lean back to kiss him again anyway. “Ready? One of the parents called and said his kid is already in the venue. They’re excited.”
Donghyuck nods, grabbing a jacket just in case it gets cold later tonight, and leads the way out. Nana is dressed in a pretty dress Donghyuck gave her for Christmas last year. Donghyuck drives to the venue and finds himself nervous for the first time in a long time.
 You’d managed to convince him to sing tonight despite his persistent refusal.
“Come on, Donghyuck,” you begged, pulling him by the end of his shirt as he harvests tangerines. “The audience will love you!”
“They paid their tickets to watch the kids of the community sing, not me,” he argued. “And besides, I haven’t sung in like, four months. Who knows? I may have forgotten to sing already.”
“Bullshit,” you said. “Your Nana would want to hear you sing live.”
“She’s already heard me sing live many times,” he replied. “She’s been to many concerts.”
You tilt you head, a habit he’s grown to really like. “But I haven’t.”
Donghyuck had wanted to kiss the pout off your lips at that time. “Watch it from Youtube.”
“You don’t get many lines!” you said.
“So, you do watch my performances in Youtube, huh?” he teased. “Only in NCT 127 I don’t get so much lines because there are more members. Try to listen to NCT Dream.”
“Donghyuck!” you bellowed in frustration as you follow him around the farm. “Please!”
He stopped and turned, a little too late for you to step back because you’re already pressed up against his chest. “Okay.”
“Really?” you asked, voice lower because your faces were just inches apart—one wrong move and you’d be kissing in the middle of tangerine trees.
He nodded, purposely moving his face closer. “Only if you start reviewing for the SAT again and start sending your drafted college applications from your laptop.”
“Who told you to sneak in and open my files!” you gasped.
“I was checking if you’ve ever watched porn in your life and I found something better: your college applications.”
“I hate you, you know?”
Donghyuck chuckled, moving even closer to intimidate you but he hoped you couldn’t his heart hammering against his chest. “I know. Now. Do we have a deal? I’ll sing at recital night and you start reviewing for the upcoming SAT and send out your college applications when it’s time.”
“I’m—I’m not sure.”
Donghyuck let you go, you almost falling back but he held your hand before you could. “Then I’m not singing.”
“But Donghyuck!” He turned to leave while you scream behind him, pleading.
Ten steps forward and he finally got what he wanted: “Okay! I’ll do it! I’ll start reviewing and will send all the drafted college applications! I’ll do it!”
Hence, the singing stunt for tonight.
The event goes as planned.
The night starts with Donghyuck’s entire class singing their own rendition of a famous traditional song that the crowd truly loved. One by one, the kids would sing, with intermission numbers in groups in between, and by the end of it, it was Donghyuck’s turn.
The minus one track is ready and Donghyuck takes a deep breath as he walks up the stage. It’s smaller than any of the stages he’s been on—perhaps the smallest—and the lights aren’t as bright than the ones he’s used to. Big stages mean big lights, and if he’s being completely honest, he doesn’t see a single face when he’s on stage. The illuminations to ensure the fans would see them are blinding, beyond what people think. While his mother thinks his eyesight has gotten worse due to the long hours of playing APEX on his days off, Donghyuck believes it’s because of the blinding lights from the stage and everywhere he goes.
However, this stage has the gentlest lights he’s ever seen. The crowd is small, about two hundred people including their students, and from here, he can see their faces clearly. He stands not too far away, not to high, and he smiles when the crowd cheers when he reaches the middle of the stage.
“Hello, I’m Donghyuck,” he says on the mic. “I’m the teacher of the talented kids we watched this evening, and I can’t be prouder with how they sang their hearts out tonight. To show my gratitude, I also prepared a song for you.”
The crowd cheers again, your voice standing out as you stand right beside the stage, your phone already up probably recording him.
“I sang this song some time last year,” he continues. “This is Good Person.”
The instrumental plays and the crowd claps before he even starts. Donghyuck breathes, closing his eyes, and sings: “What’s going on today? Your face looks like it’s been crying. Did he break your heart? You’re the most precious person in the world to me.”
He hasn’t sung in a long time, and he barely practiced this song yesterday. Donghyuck, for some time before everything went to crumbles, felt scared going on stage. He felt as though he wouldn’t do well enough to deserve the applause and cheers, and he spent a lot of time doubting his own capabilities.
Whoever he is now, Donghyuck truly worked hard for it. At first, he only knew how to sing and it was the only thing he ever loved. And then he learned how to dance, how to stand like an idol, how to answer like a celebrity, how to have his “candid” photos taken, how to be a proper artist—even when he only wants to sing.
Standing here, now, in a small crowd, singing a song he wished was his own, he wished he had written, Donghyuck feels safe.
In Jeju-do, he feels safe. Donghyuck feels like he’s found his way home. The people he’s spent all these months with brought him comfort he’s never known—like coming home after a whole day of being pestered in the real world—and he knows that he’ll never find ease and serenity the same way Jeju-do had given him. The town took him in with open arms, like he’s not some idol who ruined their career for fleeting pleasure, like he’s not some person who’d forgotten about all of them. His Nana embraced him like he was seven again, like making mistakes is normal and that forgiving is easy when you love the person. You accepted him and taught him what falling in love means as though he was deserving of love and comfort.
The song ends with his voice dragging out the last words, his eyes closed: “I can only comfort you.”
When Donghyuck opens his eyes, the lights don’t blind him and the people he knows and love clap, cheering for him. It comes to him like pouring rain. And he allows himself to drench in it—the tenderness, the warmth, the love.
Because he deserves it. He deserves the love, therefore he takes, takes, takes, until he’s full of it.
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Like many times in Donghyuck’s life, the ease and serenity end as quickly as it arrives.
You’d spent the night in his home, Donghyuck for the first time learned how to make love in bed. He’s had sex before, of course, but never like how you and him connected in his bed—moans and music of pleasure hushed by each other’s mouth, his honey-colored skin’s warmth pressed against yours, his lips and tongue tasting every inch of you. He’d said he loves you, and you’d said it back as you and him take each other.
This morning he wakes up without a headache, and he’s been waking up without one for a few weeks now. He usually wakes up with the sound of roosters from his grandmother’s backyard, or the sound of you and his Nana talking over your morning coffee. But today, he wakes up with the sound of his grandmother knocking profusely, seemingly frightened by the sound of her voice calling his name.
“Donghyuck-ah,” she shouts. “Please wake up. I don’t know what to do.”
You and Donghyuck get up startled, scrambling to put some clothes on and hurrying to open the door—only to find Nana on the verge of tears. Nana never falters, she’d only shown strength but Donghyuck finds her shaking. Nana doesn’t get the chance to answer because Joohyuk barges in, sweaty and catching his breath.
“The mayor’s security team is here,” he announces. “Let’s get going.”
“Go where?” Donghyuck asks, but Joohyuk is already pulling him.
The door opens, and Donghyuck finally realizes what’s going on.
They’d found him. Men and women with cameras shout his name—he recognizes a few from the conferences he’d attended—and flashes of lights and the stuttering sound of shutters devour him. He looks around and he can’t see you and he hears his Nana cry, and Donghyuck doesn’t understand what the fuck is going on, but he feels his legs give out. Joohyuk practically carries him to the SUV waiting outside their home.
Inside the car, Donghyuck catches a glimpse of the crowd—a crowd that looks like twice the amount of the people from the recital last night. He hears them screaming his name and he sees glints of neon green and posters as they pass by. His Nana, who sits beside him, cries and says she doesn’t understand why they’d found him. The mayor had specifically ensured that the town’s residents do not say a word about his visit way before he’d arrived and she’d done her best to protect him from the lights. He doesn’t say anything and only hugs her tight.
On the other side of Nana is you. You’re staring off the window, the fields far more interesting than what just happened, and you’re biting off the nails of your fingers and your legs wouldn’t stop bouncing. And you’re silent, and Donghyuck wonders why all of a—
Donghyuck doesn’t have to ask you to know.
You’d sold him off.
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“I’m sorry,” is all you had to say when you and him are left inside the mayor’s office’s lounge. Donghyuck asked everybody to leave.
You’re sitting on the couch, eyes on the floor, while Donghyuck walks back and forth, angry. “I didn’t mean to.”
He stops walking right in front of you. “What do you mean you didn’t mean to post me on your Instagram? How could you possibly accidentally do that?!”
You keep your head low. “I—I forgot that it wasn’t on private and I didn’t have that many of followers to even be bothered by it. And one of our old friends commented and asked me if it was you—”
“And you said yes?” he enunciated. “You consciously, deliberately said yes?”
You start crying at this point. “Yes, and I’m sorry!”
“That’s a little too late now, isn’t it?”
“I just—”
“You just what? You want to play the girlfriend role so fucking bad?”
“Donghyuck, please, listen—” You get up and hold him by his arms but he backs off and rips his body from yours. “I just—I wanted the world to know that you can be kind and warm and you’re nothing like what the tabloids say—”
“So, you admit you purposely posted it!” he shouts. “What a fucking—”
“Yes!” you admit, still crying. “Because I can’t live knowing the world sees you differently when you’re generous and loving and amazing!”
Donghyuck takes a deep breath, hands on his waist, head tilted up so he can focus on the ceiling instead of the image of you crying. “You have no idea how the world fucking works, do you?”
“You always loved singing,” you reason out. “And the world shouldn’t take that away from you because of one mistake. I’m so sorry for what I’ve done. I didn’t think it through, but please understand my purpose.”
“You really have no fucking idea,” he concludes, looking down at you, right in your eyes and says: “How would you have any knowledge of what goes on outside of Jeju-do, anyway? You have never left this god damn place in your entire life and you know nothing aside from stringing words beautifully to get what you want. And you think you’re fucking cool for not having a dream and staying in an island, living your small-town girl fantasy, when in fact you’ve done nothing in life and people won’t even remember you. Why would you think you can make this decision for me? You’re just some girl who didn’t even go to college!”
“That’s enough, Donghyuck!” Nana interrupts.
Donghyuck turns and finds his Nana, Joohyuk, some of the Mayor’s security staff, his manager, and his Mother standing right outside the now opened door.
He looks back at you and you’re no longer crying. Your expression is just empty, like a light bulb burnt out.
Indeed, like many times in Donghyuck’s life, the ease and serenity end as quickly as it arrives.
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They take the first flight to Seoul after successfully shooing the media and fans away. Nana travels with them, his mother deciding that it’s the best for now until everything calms down.
Donghyuck finds out during the flight that yours and his old friend from middle school had reposted the video of him singing from last night and it went viral in multiple social media platforms. Overnight, people had found out his location and the media had started interviewing people in the town. Despite the mayor instructing everyone not to say a thing, some had answered questions, even submitted entries on some forums about Haechan online.
His manager talks about how their PR team sort of thinks this might just be what he needed, says something about the locals of the town had said so many good things about him. He confirms that the post originated from your Instagram account and you had deactivated at this point and that they’re in the process of contacting your old schoolmate because the agency wants to press charges for invading his grandmother’s privacy and for bothering him on an unofficial schedule.
His mother holds his hand all through, and she offers a kind smile and kisses the top of his head.
Donghyuck cries like baby, and his mother only holds him, and perhaps that’s all he truly needs.
The crowd is just as bad when his plane lands. Donghyuck can barely see and hear considering the lights and people shouting his name. They take him to a separate SUV, away from his mother and Nana to keep them off the radar, and he sits in the car beside his manager.
“Here,” his manager hands him a phone as soon as the car starts moving. Donghyuck had forgotten his phone. It’s probably still in his room back in Nana’s house. People are still screaming his name. Donghyuck stares at his manager’s phone blankly. The screen shows he’s in a call with Mark.
Donghyuck’s hand shakes when he takes it. He puts the device over his ear and doesn’t wait for Mark to say anything.
“Mark-hyung,” he cries.
And cries. And cries. And cries. Until he arrives in SM’s headquarters and the manager has to take the phone away from him. Mark tells him he’s on the way to the headquarters with Renjun and Doyoung and that the others should be on their way after their individual schedules.
They arrive and immediately their staff take care of him like a baby, and he realizes that he’s back. He’s back. Right where he’s supposed to belong.
They take him to the PR teams office, and none of them ask how he’s doing and he’s spiraling again—already starting to think how he could please the staff and make them happy, not even an entire day of landing in Seoul and he’s already thinking about other people at his own expense.
Hence, Donghyuck makes a decision he’s never considered before.
While one of the PR associates discuss how he’s ranked number one in Naver’s most searched term, Donghyuck raises his hand.
They all look at him.
And finally, Donghyuck says: “Please get me a therapist. Please get someone who can help me.”
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The room is clean and if Donghyuck’s being honest, a little too perfect for a therapist’s office. A tiny part of his fucked-up brain tries to convince him that they’d probably set him up for a documentary he’s not aware of to clean his image, so he looks around and tries to check if there are any cameras setup.
“Truly a celebrity,” Dr. Yoon says, which makes Donghyuck jump a little. The doctor stands from the door way, closing it as he steps inside. “Please, feel comfortable.”
Donghyuck thinks that’s a little impossible, but he takes a seat one of the single couches.
“The first thing that celebrities do in my office is look around for cameras,” the doctor comments, sitting on a similar chair across Donghyuck. “And I assure you that no amount of money can buy my integrity as a psychologist.”
“I’m relieved,” Donghyuck mumbles. “Hello, I’m Donghyuck.”
“Hello, Donghyuck,” the doctor greets; Donghyuck bows. “I had a quick glimpse of your situation from the form you filled out online. Are you feeling better today?”
“I guess,” Donghyuck shrugs. Dr. Yoon smiles.
“How about I ask questions and if you don’t want to answer, stay silent instead of lying to me?” He asks. Donghyuck sighs but nods. “And if you want to answer, answer as truthfully as you can, yes?” Donghyuck agrees. “Let’s start with simple questions.”
“Do you have any siblings?”
Dr. Yoon asks him many close-ended questions, to which Donghyuck had given him all the answers to, then proceeds to ask him what’s on his mind. The doctor’s notepad sits on the table between them, left open and blank even after asking so many questions.
Donghyuck is not really sure whether he’d done the right thing by seeking help, but he can’t keep hurting people just because he’s fucked up in the head. And he can’t keep hurting himself just because he can’t make the entire fucking world happy. He can’t keep drinking his insomnia away because he’s scared a doctor may tell him he’s fucked up in the head, which he knows already, he just doesn’t want it written in his medical records. He can’t keep fucking up his group’s image just because the alcohol doesn’t help his insomnia anymore. He can’t keep drowning himself in his sadness and the thought of disappointing so many people in his life—the people he left behind in Jeju-do, the members, his fans, the staff, his parents and siblings, his Nana, you.
If melatonin didn’t work, if the alcohol didn’t work, and if Jeju-do didn’t work, then perhaps a therapist is his best shot at getting better.
Donghyuck takes a deep breath, closes his eyes and begins.
“I keep thinking about how I can make everyone happy without sacrificing anything.”
The doctor finally picks up the pen and starts scribbling down.
Donghyuck keeps talking.
Donghyuck goes to therapy on Tuesdays and Fridays, and SM keeps his hiatus status active until Donghyuck decides to come back himself. It’s an agreement his parents, Donghyuck, and the agency settled while things are still chaotic.
The members are supportive of this, especially Mark and Taeyong. They’d send him cheerful messages every Tuesday and Friday, when they know that his session would begin. Sometimes, Jeno, Jisung, and Jaemin would pick him up and take him to a barbecue restaurant after. Donghyuck can’t remember how many times Renjun and Chenle had driven him to therapy and had waited for a couple of hours, only to take him to his favorite Chinese restaurant that serves the best hotpot. The older members have also driven him to therapy once or twice, with Jungwoo even signing up for therapy one time, and they’ve all given him love and tenderness—which Donghyuck accepted.
Donghyuck learns many things from Dr. Yoon. He learns that people pleasing isn't a mental illness, but it can be an issue that adversely affects how many people, with or without mental illness, relate to others. Most of all, people pleasers try to nourish other people without adequately nourishing themselves. Dr. Yoon called it Sociotrophy. He described it as the tendency to place an inordinate value on relationships over personal independence in response to the loss of relationships or conflict.
Those with sociotropic tendencies, wish to make other people happy, often at the sake of their own needs or values. While being warm, kind, and helpful are positive traits, they can result in strong feelings of resentment, anxiety, stress, and emotional depletion when they come at your expense.
People-pleasing, apparently, falls at the opposite end of the scale from autonomy. Autonomy places emphasis on independence whereas people-pleasers prioritize interpersonal relationships above all else. People-pleasers are often extremely empathic and attuned to others’ needs. A people-pleaser therefore tends to pursue intimate, affectionate, and confiding relationships. These people have a strong desire for external validation and avoid, or are sensitive to, situations where conflict may arise.  They will go above and beyond to avoid displeasing others out of fear of diminished social acceptance.
This behavior can have detrimental effects on a person’s self-worth and self-esteem.  A never-ending pursuit of approval, a desire for acceptance, and a sense of validation that arise from others happiness often result in a negative self-image. The person is likely to feel unworthy, powerless, or resentful, which may result in a lack of self-care.
The way Dr. Yoon had described it basically sums up Donghyuck as a human being.
He also learns that Sociotropic tendencies are often associated with mental health disorders such as anxiety or depression, which finally gave them Donghyuck’s diagnosis: clinical depression, also known as major depressive disorder abbreviated as MDD.
Clinical depression is a chronic condition, but it usually occurs in episodes, which can last several weeks or months. Dr. Yoon says one would likely have more than one episode in a lifetime. Donghyuck had asked him what was the difference between MDD and depression as it is.
Dr. Yoon explained that it’s normal to feel sad when you’re faced with difficult life situations, such as losing your job or a relationship. Some people may say they feel depressed during these situations. MDD is different in that it persists practically every day for at least two weeks and involves other symptoms than just sadness alone. It can be confusing because many people call clinical depression or major depressive disorder just “depression.”
Dr. Yoon also blabbered about chemicals in his brain that, well, Donghyuck really doesn’t understand much. All he knows at this point is that the treatment involves some medication and most specially psychotherapy. Apparently, studies show that the combination of these treatments is more effective than either of them alone.
Donghyuck has been investing a lot of his time in psychotherapy. His normal sessions were every Friday, thirty minutes to a maximum of an hour each. Like how his prescription doses went up, he also requested his psychotherapy sessions to be more frequent, hence Tuesdays and Fridays, minimum of one hour a session, maximum of an hour and a half.
Donghyuck likes to think that over the course of eight weeks, he’d gotten a little better. It turns out that being honest with your doctor means you’d get prescribed the right pills to take to help you fall asleep. No wonder the melatonin pills he’d taken didn’t work in the long run; he was taking the wrong ones and the wrong dosage—just like how he’d been looking for happiness in the wrong places.
From today’s session, Dr. Yoon asked him if he could talk to his mother about how he’d felt for so many years—the pressure, the urge to do whatever pleases her, the comparisons with other members, everything. Hence, Donghyuck finds himself knocking on his parents’ room.
He’s staying at their home during his hiatus. He reckons it’s the best time to speak with her as his father and the kids are out for work and school.
“Come in, Donghyuck-ah,” she says softly from the other side. He opens the door and finds his mother writing something in her journal. “You need anything, baby? Do you want to eat?”
He shakes his head and walks towards their bed, sitting on its edge. His mother puts the pen down and sits beside him. “Something wrong?”
“Eomma,” he says in the softest voice. “Can I sleep here?”
The question brings tears to his mother’s eyes. She nods and leads him to bed, Donghyuck lying on his side and his mother cradling him from behind. He looks like he’s thirteen again, the day before the audition at SM, young and anxious about what the next day would bring, and his mother seems like she’s never aged a day, still determined and only wants the best for her children.
Donghyuck can feel her crying.
“I’m sorry, Donghyuck-ah,” is all she says.
And Donghyuck knows deep in his heart that even before she’d uttered her apology, he’s already forgiven her.
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Haechan comes back right before Chuseok.
NCT Dream is invited to perform at a music festival held in the Seoul Olympic Stadium alongside many other artists. When news broke that this would be Haechan’s come back stage, the ticket sites went crazy—crashing every second because everybody wanted to get tickets to see the most-awaited comeback.
Over the course of seven months of Donghyuck’s hiatus, many things have changed. He gained more fans in the latter parts of the hiatus after the world learned his life in Jeju-do. He’d gotten a new piercing in his cartilage, which the fans love, but only Donghyuck probably understands what it means. Old videos of him going on stage went viral years later, the world seeing how talented and passionate he truly is. Clips of him randomly singing without autotune circulated for quite some time, and his fondness of children and respect for the elder have been the talk of the KPop industry for the last months or so, calling him the most well-mannered idol. The scandal had not been erased from history, of course; some people still hate him for it. Some of his old fan sites did not return to support him, and if we’re talking about old Donghyuck, he’d probably be pretty bummed about it. He’d probably start compromising his privacy to give them a glimpse of his life off the stage to get them back.
But the sessions with Dr. Yoon have been working well, because Donghyuck doesn’t really care about pleasing the entire world anymore. Donghyuck thinks that as long as there’s a good number of people supporting him and loving him for who he is—as a person and as a singer—then he’d be okay. He didn’t have to make the entire planet roar his name.
The dress rehearsals are done by the time the clock hit four in the afternoon. The members argue where to go eat. Jisung announces he’s going shopping for a new pair of wired headphones because he lost his on the way to the stadium, to which Renjun says he’d go with him. The others decide to go eat with the staff, some opt to go home and rest so they’d be ready for the next day.
Donghyuck decides to go buy the book that Johnny recommended him: The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. He’s told that the book is about a boy growing up, and that it might strike his thoughts if he’s up to reading a children’s book meant for adults.
Hence, Donghyuck finds himself going through shelves and sections of children’s book after picking up The Little Prince and wondering if Gyeom would want to read any of these.
You see, Lee Donghyuck is not much of a believer of fate. As he’d say before, his career didn’t happen by fate because it was all his mother doing all the hard work. But what are the odds of him choosing to visit this exact book store at this exact moment over elsewhere and another time?
And what are the odds of him finding you leaning against the wall in the corner of the store, hair longer than the last time, nose red and body bundled up in layers of clothes, a book in your hand as you read through it?
Donghyuck stops, stares at you, as if he’s waiting for you to look up from the book, and thinks about how much he’d missed you all this time and how much he’d regretted ending things with foul, unacceptable words. He thinks about remembering you anytime he sees tangerines and flowers around the city. He thinks about the odds of finding you again and again in this lifetime. He thinks about the flowers only blooming as soon as the butterflies have left, missing their timing, and how they bloom again next spring, hoping that this time, the timing is right.
He thinks about you in silence. He thinks about love hiding in the corners of his chest, convincing him he’ll get over it—he’ll get over you. He thinks about his dreams.
A few people pass by the space between you and him. The distance is about three meters. It’s silent for the most part.
Donghyuck is not much of a believer of fate, and you look up to prove him otherwise.
It’s only then that Donghyuck takes a really good look on you: new hairstyle, backpack slung in one arm, a student ID badge hanging right below your chest.
“Y/N!” A girl whisper-shouts from behind fDonghyuck. “Have you found the book?”
You don’t tear your glance away from him, but you nod and say, “Yeah. I’ll go check it out and I’ll meet you outside.”
The other girl doesn’t notice him and proceeds to leave. You take two, three, five, seven steps, and you’re right in front of him.
“Hi, Donghyuck-ah,” you say in the softest voice as soon as you’re close enough.
Donghyuck wonders whether this is just a dream or if he’d started hallucinating you because of the medicines he’s been taking, but then he catches a whiff of your scent, and Donghyuck believes.
Donghyuck believes in fate. In forgiveness. In healing. In love. In finding one’s way back home.
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END
author's note: PLEASE tell me what you think of this in the comments or reblogs. I'd also appreciate if you send me you favorite line here. Thank you so much for reading until the end!
optional as always: TIP ME HERE.
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kaihuntrr · 1 year
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The Sea Prince: The Watcher, ‘Civilians’, and Hunters.
To celebrate this au being one of my most favorite things to work on, I’ve made designs for the Solidarity brothers, Big B, and redesigned the trio!
Closeups and introductions under the cut :> here they are!
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Now that’s character design! I’m super proud of how they turned out, and they form a rainbow by pure coincidence. Let’s talk about them!
Starting off with the duos!
‘Nosy Neighbors’ & ‘Mean Gills’
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Big B is a new one so I’ll talk about him first. I’ll talk about the other three as characters :)
‘Big B.’
Big B is a Watcher; an organization that studies and hunts sea monsters. He used to be a famous vagabond hunter, but due to some mysterious circumstances, he retired early. You’ll meet him much later on in the story, but he’s quite an interesting character! He keeps his secrets. He knows yours. Who knows if he's trustworthy or not.
He seems to have a connection to Grian.
‘Pearl Moone.’
She’s a cocky, energetic person to be around. She doesn’t seem too trusting with strangers, especially hunters. Her accessories are golden, and she has a scar over her left eye so she definitely stands out.
She has a red shell bracelet similar to Scott’s necklace. Are they friends?
‘Scott Major.’
A pleasant, sassy, and entertaining server in the port town the Red Canaries visit. He often flirts with Martyn, leaving the hunter speechless with promises of something more. He’s hiding something. Maybe he’ll tell Martyn his secrets one day?
He swears a couple of necklaces, but one is hidden under his shirt.
‘Martyn Woods.’
The second mate to the Red Canaries. Loyal to a fault, he prioritizes everyone before himself, even neglecting his needs. He believes that his isolated life is worth it, but his feelings change the more Scott talks his way into his life. Is he ready to love again, even after what happened to Ren?
He has a couple of scars, some big ones on his chest. He has a locket and tattoo of a crown and a necklace trinket of the first monster he killed as a boy.
‘Bad Boys’, the Solidarity brothers.
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A bunch of new designs here! I referenced their bad boy skins so they have similar ‘leather jackets’. I’m excited for you all to learn about them and their history.
‘Grian Solidarity.’
The youngest adopted brother of the trio. He’s chaotic, but he’s shifty. His birth parents were from the Watchers, but after their death, he was entrusted to the Solidarity family to care for him. They died when he was young, so he doesn’t remember them. He loves his brothers to death and does what he can to protect them and his crew.
He, like his other brothers, keeps a locket with their family photo. He wears a yellow bandana with his name crudely stitched on it. Strangely, he has some similarities to Pearl…
‘Joel Solidarity.’
The awkward, funny middle child. He has the most muscle out of the brothers but he masks it with his pleasant behavior. He quickly accepted Grian into the family and shared his interest in starting the hunter crew. When they were younger, the two would sneak away from their older brother to meet Martyn and Impulse by the docks. Currently, he’s engaged to Lizzie Shadow and is waiting for winter so they can finally tie the knot.
He keeps a falcon feather in his hat as his parents were falconers. He wears his red bandana, also with crude stitches of his name, on his head.
‘Jimmy Solidarity.’
The oldest and most emotional of the brothers. He wasn’t particularly interested in becoming a hunter, preferring to spend time with the birds and become a falconer, but he loved his brothers so he went with it. He’s impulsive, stubborn, but a wonderful and simple person all around.
He keeps his red bandana on his belt, with neat stitches of his name. He has a braided bracelet and a tattoo on his neck.
...and he’s dead.
...or is he?
There’s a LOT going on with these designs, a lot of spoilers in them so what I’ve said could or could not be hints to what’s to come! Not sure when the next design dump would be, but I think my upcoming post would be fun, particularly for those who want to read the story ;) all in due time.
oh, also new life Scott is partially ginger. I predicted that HA- /j I’ll probably whip up art of those two bc. That’s incredibly funny-
Which one of these characters/ designs is your favorite? Let me know! :D
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darlingofdots · 6 months
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Formal vs Informal Address in German Temeraire Translations: a report
So I have picked up my German copies of the Temeraire books for the first time in over a decade for reasons unrelated to this post but I immediately got distracted by the matter of formal address in German and how translators have to make a very specific and important choice when translating from English. German (like French and many other languages) has two forms of direct address in the 2nd person, an informal one for friends, family, children etc., and a formal address for strangers, teachers, colleagues, professional contacts. It is famously a Whole Thing when you switch from formal to informal with somebody: usually the person with a 'higher' position in the relationship has to explicitly offer it and it can be a big deal! A common instance might be when you've worked at a new job for a while and your colleagues tell you to use informal to indicate they consider you Part Of The Team, or your girlfriend's parents do it when you've been dating a while and they signal that you're part of the family now. In translation, this can be a really tricky choice! For instance, I have not watched Elementary in German but I would say Sherlock and Joan would absolutely start out addressing each other formally (Sherlock calls her "Watson" most of the time), but by the end of the show there is no way they would not have switched. Obviously English-language media does not have an explicit conversation about this and the closest analogue would be switching to first names when they've only ever used last names before, but you can't rely on that and translators end up having to make choices about characterisation and relationships based on like, vibes. With all that said!
In the Temeraire series, there's a lot of formal address around, such as among officers; I knew Laurence would be addressing his cadets formally because even though they are like, 9 years old, they are his officers and deserve to be treated with that respect. I only have books 1-5 in German but I'd be willing to bet that this doesn't change even Emily's been with him for nigh on ten years, and the same goes for Temeraire. Also Laurence uses formal address with both his parents, in case you were wondering.
What I was not sure about was a) how other people address dragons and how dragons address each other and b) the finer interpersonal relationships among aviators. Jane addresses Iskierka formally but Temeraire informally; the dragons of the formation are formal with each other but Temeraire, Lily, and Maximus are not, and Temeraire quite happily scolds Iskierka like a misbehaving child. I would LOVE to find a bit of, say, Laurence talking to Lily or Berkley to Temeraire!
Among the aviators, Laurence and Jane are informal with each other once they've slept together, but I just saw that Laurence is also informal with Harcourt but not with Chenery, which is interesting but I suppose makes sense if you go by the dragons' relationships too. What really fascinates me is that at the end of Victory of Eagles, Laurence and Granby are still formal, which makes sense because until five minutes ago Laurence was his superior officer, but if I were the translator for this series I'd have them switch to informal with the beginning of book six but unfortunately I do not have that on hand so I can't check.
Now for the main event: Tharkay uses formal address with Laurence when he leaves to fetch more ferals at the beginning of book 4, and I thought he switched for the infamous "Laurence, what are you doing" which would have been exactly the right moment if you'd asked me, but in fact there is one random informal when they're out rescuing Granby in London (loose quotation: "that is [Woolvey's] problem and for those who would weep for him, even if they are close to your [informal] heart")? And then he goes right back to formal all the way to "Laurence, what are you [informal] doing" and finally switches properly, at which point Laurence follows his example. At first I thought that was weird and I am not sure if it was done on purpose, but on second thought I kind of like that he tries it out first when speaking of something personal (Laurence's concern for Edith) but isn't sure of it yet and retreats back to familiar territory until he realises that he needs to shock Laurence out of his war crime depression.
It's interesting to me that Tharkay was the one to take that step. Traditionally, like I said, it would be on the person in a position of authority to offer or, like with Granby, Laurence could have just switched once Granby was confirmed in rank to indicate that he wants to be friends now that he doesn't give orders anymore. Of course it makes perfect sense that Tharkay would not care one bit about rank, and he's not really an officer anyway and he certainly does not consider Laurence to have authority over him. I love that the translator (Marianne Schmidt) recognised that moment on campaign for what I think it is: not so much a turning point in their relationship but one that cements a degree of intimacy that Laurence doesn't have with anyone else. They would not have had access to book 6, I think, when they were working on book 5, so it very much is a deliberate choice based on their interactions up to this point. I made a list recently about people that Will Laurence calls by their first name (former first lieutenants, Catherine Harcourt, 1 FWB, and Tharkay) and now I feel like I need to make another list of people German!Will Laurence uses informal address with!
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Dining at the Ritz
I think this one is even shorter than the last, but I like it. It was kinda rushed tbh, so I'm sorry if its bad, I hope you enjoy it tho.
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Aziraphale and Crowley were discussing some type of business. Probably about heaven or hell or something. You don't know, you aren't paying attention. You were like a bored child sitting at the dinner table while your parents talk about work. Just when you thought you were gonna pass out from boredom, the waiter came to take your drink orders.
"Hello, my name is Keith and I'll be your server for today, what would you guys like to drink?" He says, putting on that sickly sweet customer service smile.
"A coffee for me, I don't feel like drinking today." Aziraphale says, and Crowley shoots him a look you can't quite decipher.
"Wine. Red wine." Crowley answers, monotone. The server becomes slightly nervous due to Crowley's intimidating aura. The guy was obviously new, as everyone at the Ritz knew Aziraphale and Crowley. This was the first time you ever came here with them though, so there was still some stares from the regular employees.
"Well, sir, we have many red wines, do you have specific tastes? We have an amazing P-"
"Don't care, just give me a red one." Crowley cuts. Aziraphale places a hand on his arm, and Crowley stiffens.
"No need to be so snappy, Crowley, the poor boy is just trying to do his job." Aziraphale says. Crowley makes a noise in response, and the server nods and turns to you.
"And what will it be for you, little...person..?" The server asks.
"You have a bar here right?" You reply. Aziraphale gives you an appalled look and Crowley raises an eyebrow. The server nods. "Can I get a Shirley Temple? Do you make those? Also can I get 7 marischino cherries to go with that?" You ask. Aziraphale makes a strangled noise and Crowley snirks. The server nods and starts walking away. As soon as he's out of earshot Aizraphale starts scolding you a little.
"What were you thinking? You can't drink!" Aziraphale says, his eyes wide.
"Its just sprite and cherry grenadine." You reply, almost laughing. Crowley eyes you, but doesn't say a word. The server soon returns with the coffee, the red wine, and the Shirley Temple with 7 cherries. Aziraphale looks slightly suspicious still, and asks if he can try some. He takes a sip and his eyes light up.
"Oh my! This is really good!" He points to the cup and looks at Crowley, before waving over the waiter and asking for his own.
Its about an hour later and the table is filled with empty cups from Shirley Temple after Shirley Temple. As Aziraphale goes to ask for another, Crowley grabs his arm.
"Enough Angel. You've probably run them out of the ingredients already, they ran out of cherries twenty minutes ago!" Crowley states. You just sit and watch, wondering how Aziraphale went from suspicion to addiction.
"Jeez, and I thought I liked Shirley Temples." You say and roll your eyes. Crowley shoots you a warning look and you stick your tongue out at him. You guys start bickering before Aziraphale steps in.
"Crowley, stop bickering with Y/n, you're an adult." He says.
"They started it!" Crowley replies.
"Nuh uh, you glared first, which means that you started it!!" You guys start bickering once more, before Aziraphale lets out a loud sigh.
"Crowley, be the bigger person." Aziraphale says.
"Yeah Cra-ow-ley!" You say, taunting him.
"You little-!"
"Guys!!!!" Aziraphale shouts. You both snap your head towards him and stop talking immediately.
"Y/n, you're being rude." He starts, and Crowley smirks at you. "Crowley, you're being immature." He looks at Crowley, and Crowley visibly flattens, while you smile at Crowley. "Why are you guys even fighting in the first place?" You and Crowley look at each other and shrug.
"Dunno." You say in unison. Aziraphale sighs again, before paying the bill and bringing you back to the bookshop.
You and Crowley bicker a little bit for the rest of the day. Later that night though, when you had finally tired yourself out from the day, when no one was watching, not even the stars above, Crowley tucked you in, and brushed the hair out of your eyes.
"Dream of something other than misery, kid." He whispers. He says a small goodbye to Aziraphale, and drives home.
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It bothers the hell out of me when no one talks about what George stacy? (whatever his name is) (gwens dad) pulling out a gun and was (probably) going to harm his own kid?? why is no one talking about? why is that scene so overlooked?? it's so fucking overlooked, call me whatever, but my gut has been screaming to me about it, it's so weird how overlooked it is, And I know it's not just me, but I also feel kike I know why and it sucks, I feel bad for gwen, I don't think she'll ever look at him that way and it's not being talked about as much.
NO DEADASS REALLY FOR REAL DEADASS
Like the implications of that scene are insane - if we question what he would've done, like it gets sickening.
Because he let out a warning shot, he's going by procedure. So if Gwen hadn't complied, what would he have done? If she 'resisted arrest' is he really ready to use force - A GUN on his own daughter.
He KNOWS she Spider-Gwen now. He's see what she can do - Gwen could probably dodge a bullet if she knew she was being shot at. Knowing that, he was doing that to get her to submit in fear, that hopefully his place as a cop would scare her into WHAT?? Giving herself up.
Gwen CAN'T.
This is NYC mind you.
If you get arrested in NYC they send you Riker's Island while you wait for trail. Riker's Island being the jail that inspired ARKHAM ASYLUM.
It's considered one of the foulest facilities in the country. Gwen is what, 16-17? Wanted for murder - the cops HATE her, the courts could easily trial her as an adult.
Was he REALLY ready to throw his 16 year old daughter into the most dangerous neglective hellish place the city has to offer? Was he ready to shoot her or worse?
WHAT WAS HE GONNA DO??? CAUSE WHATEVER IT WAS...HE SEEMED COMMITED TO DOING IT.
SIR WHAT WERE YOU GOING TO INFLICT UPON YOU INNOCENT CHILD - HOBIE GET THE GUITAR
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No wonder she was gonna leave without talking to him. If Hobie hadn't come over, she would've rather been homeless on the streets rather than try and face her dad again - knowing it can end up MUCH worse.
Not knowing if he's looking for her to apologize or throw her in a cruiser he makes me SICKKKK BRUHH ITs NOT EVEN FUNNY AT THIS POINT
As soon as he started talking she had an attitude because she's still pissed about there. There's so much sadness there but anger too, cause like
How you deadass pull a gun on your only family??????????????
How you deadass about to send your daughter to a detention center or a jail OR MORE LIKELY COMPLETE SOLITARY. Consider her powers.
Like..... These movies want me to pat him and Peter B. on the back for a job well done when they BOTH let Gwen down. And Gwen has to come TO THEM to fix it (which I understand for her dad but Peter r u deadass)
Meanwhile Jefferson is doing TWENTY THOUSAND TIMES BETTER WTF
FUCK GEORGE STACY ALL MY HOBIES HATE GEORGE STACY JEFFERSON DAVIS IS A KIN
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DO YOU THINK HED EVER PULL A GUN ON MILES NO!!!!!
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bunnymajo · 10 months
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Did an update design for Tiara B. She's definitely a sporty & adventurous character but I wanted to avoid workout clothes like Tangle's, I so I went for a jumper and did a scrunchie instead of a bow since I think Fiona pretty much owns big yellow bows imo. I also kept the wand because I like it, and decided to make more of a backstory for the giant rock on it & give it a name and explain I guess what she would be doing.
I broke it down into 3 parts & put it under a cut
1 - Harmony Diamond- Treasure of the Boobowski royal family. Only the royal family are able to wield it and the power level varies depending on it’s users state of mind (ie - if depressed or low on energy it’s not as powerful as when they’re determined & confident) It’s main ability is it’s able to heal or restore what’s broken. Including healing the sick. In combat it can absorb & nullify attacks, basically it becomes an OP shield. It’s encased in a scepter that can also be used as a blunt weapon. (I also kind of want it to look like a gymnastics ribbon while in motion. Like a beam of light that whips around whenever the wand moves) Tiara, as the last remaining member of the Boobowski family, is the only one left to wield it.
As a child her father told her to keep its power a secret because he didn’t want others coming for her, despite her protests that it could really help people in need. Gazebo starts to consider finding a way to duplicate the diamond. The real one to keep and the duplicate to try and use more publicly & possibly distribute throughout the world if duplication is successful. In his experiments of trying to convert a chaos emerald into another harmony diamond, this causes an unforeseen reaction and Gazebo suddenly vanishes without any remains. The diamond and emerald are repelled to the opposite sides of the room. Tiara witnesses the incident in horror. She disposes of the emerald and starts carrying the Harmony Diamond and Gazebo’s notes with her at all times in her quest to find him and answers on what exactly happened.
Notes: -Based on the “rings of order” concept from Sonic Xtreme of being opposites of the chaos emeralds. Shiny rocks are just more interesting than rings.
also inspired by the Silver Crystal from Sailor Moon (which culturally are the opposite of Dragon Balls, the inspiration for Chaos Emeralds)
also also tying in some of the original game drafts where Gazebo was trying to make a cure for a disease that Sonic had to transport(?)
2- The Boobowski Royal family & the Castle of Light - located in a northern region (in between Holoska & Spagonia) the Boobowski family had been its ruler for centuries, but in recent history the kingdom’s population & general well being declined. The King at the time had been more frugal with the Diamond’s use and kept its powers secret, when the people revolted to form a democracy, the royal family was cast out and lived among its citizens. The castle became public property as well but it suffered heavy damage from the revolt.
Gazebo is from the 3rd generation after the revolt. Even with the political change the population still dwindled, almost as if it was cursed. The royal family’s history remained a faint memory, and he & Tiara lived in the mountains (like the Mobian Alps) mostly staying outside of the world of politics, Gazebo as a local doctor. Tiara is a “princess” in family heritage only. Gazebo sometimes wonders what it would be like to restore the Castle of Light to its former glory. This is also what motivates him to duplicate the Harmony Diamond, so that he can get a boost of power to heal the castle & the surrounding area. Tiara has no interest in politics or being a pampered princess, but she did enjoy working alongside her father with patients and helping people.
Notes: -Castle of Light has been documented as Sonic Extreme’s hubworld & where Tiara was from so I wanted to utilize it.
Wanted to make the history distinct enough from Satam’s Acorn Kingdom (since Tiara looking for her father is already pretty similar to Sally’s story) and have its conflicts come from internal struggles vs. outside forces like Eggman attacks or whatever the heck was happening in Soleanna.
3 - Tiara’s character- Since Gazebo’s disappearance Tiara has been traveling alone. In her home village she was always wandering off on her own so she’s used to being independent. She puts on a determined face & positive attitude through this whole ordeal but doesn’t let anyone get too close & won't ever admit to anyone that she’s felt lonely & scared. She’s pretty confident in her physical abilities so sometimes she can seem hot-headed, impatient or even arrogant on a bad day. She has short patience for people picking fights in particular (so like, Rough & Tumble she would absolutely yell at & fight them without hesitation)
At the end of the day she won't give up until she finds an answer as to what happened & where her dad went. She doesn’t mind if she has to sacrifice personal relationships for herself to get there. She’s put out missing persons reports in every town she’s visited. She usually stays in town for a week to a month, working odd jobs or helping citizens from badniks. She goes to the gym a lot (into gymnastics, aerobics, rock climbing) and likes following the local sports scene. Big jock energy.
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sleepingdayaway · 11 months
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Mess AU
Okay I did another thing except this time it’s from @cloudninetonine mess au which I highly recommend you check out!
I sorta had an idea when I was thinking about it, but when I actually started writing it just all went away. So yeah sorry if it sucks-
If [Name] is going to be completely honest, they weren’t expecting this outcome as they sat with Nat. Currently the both of them are sitting together; enjoying a variety of fruits on a plate, as they observe the big man interacting with the other Ganon’s in the group. A small thought appeared in [color hair] as they chewed on a grape, ‘If Sky was here he would be losing his shit over them.’
As if knowing he was mentioned, the flame hair colored man perked up to look at the two who sat away from the rest. He had a huge figure, the same fiery red hair as his other incarnations, but looking closer it’s as if his hair was actually fire. The only difference is his body compared to the others. 
If a regular person were to take a quick glance they would think nothing of it, except when you look closer you can see the dark scales with a hint of red covering his body. The red in between the scales looks to be dimming out, as if to match his breathing. Looking up at his face the first thing you would see is the ‘X’ scar right in the middle of his forehead. The face and build of a man who has seen war, and has lived through it himself. The mix of a humanoid man, but also something that is inhuman.
No wonder, throughout history many have called him the Demon King.
But as [Name] watched the man walk over to them, the aura that radiated around him was not one of a god who brought hate and fear into the lives of many. Instead it was one of hesitance and unsure on whether it was alright for him to approach; he stares at the duo as if asking for their permission to get closer. In sync [Name] and Nat turn their heads to look at each other and squint their eyes, in a silent conversation. Nat looks up at the man before hesitantly nodding meanwhile [Name] grabbed at a strawberry to snack on.
Demise, the all mighty, the one who cursed the Chosen Hero and Hylia’s incarnation in an infinite cycle of hatred. Carefully lowered himself on the grassy ground before the two friends, and carefully observed them, not once uttering a single word. From behind the strange group, stood a man carefully eyeing them, a sense of wanting to be near them, but he didn’t act on it as he walked away.
Nature, one of the incarnations of the man before him, has no clue on how to feel about the man that sits in front of him. The other Ganon’s seemed a bit standoffish at first to him, but appeared to slowly warm up as they continued their adventure. Especially King and Eve, who looked to hang onto every word that Demise says. Nat always knew what he had to do to keep everything in order for the world to function, and knew that during his time there was someone that guided him. To put it simply, it’s just a bit awkward to finally meet the person who helped you, after a long time. 
[Name] knows all about Demise; his purpose and what he has done. As well as the importance of the balance that he brings to the world, if spending long agonizing hours to days on the concept of righteousness and the evil and torment of the world counts as understanding. Yet as they stare at Demise and notice how he struggles to speak to them, that throws away all negative stereotypes that had built up from the years of lore they’ve read. He kind of looks like a father who has no idea on how to communicate with his child instead just sits there and believes that they’re spending time together.
It was a moment of awkward silence between the three of them, [Name] and Nat still enjoying the fruits, until it was surprisingly broken by Demise. “I have been told that you are not connected with any of my descendants, that you merely happened to come across in their travels.” 
A natural side eye occurred as he glanced at the Master Sword that is sheathed beside [Name]; that did not go unnoticed by them. There was a faint pulse of a blue glow when his eyes landed on the weapon. Maintaining eye contact with the Demon King as they spoke up without hesitance in their voice, “I’m no hero, if that’s what you’re wondering about.”  
“Yet you hold the sword that was forged by Hylia herself, and was wielded by her Chosen Hero.” He responded with a calm tone; although his facial features say a different tale he made no move to do anything. Tide who had been listening in on the conversation subtly shifted to be closer, in case he needed to intervene. 
Shuffling in their seat at the question that was directed towards them, “That is true, I’m aware that you have history with this sword, but it is currently in my care. I also have no affiliation to those people.” Demise huffs slightly at that response before sitting up more; glancing down at them as if he is trying to appear more menacing. It was at this moment did [Name] finally realize who they were talking to, silently cursing under their breath.
“Tell me young one, what exactly are your motives? You must have some connection towards the Goddess.” 
[Name] blinks a couple times before speaking, “None- I actually don’t know why I ended up here, but all I can say is that I’m grateful for everyone here. I owe them a lot.”
Now that caught Demise’s attention as he leaned a bit forward, “Is that so? Would you care to-”
“Alright! I think that’s enough on interrogating my friend,” Nat replied as he slightly shoved Demise away from [Name], and began leaning into them more which reminded them of when Wind would also do the same whenever they didn’t want to explain something.
Tide, who was watching everything, smiled softly at Nature’s protective action. Yes, they’ve all grown fond of the little traveler. Swearing with all the power that they hold that they would keep [Name] safe, and help them return back to their original group. Slowly did that topic of conversation change amongst them, and now they appear to be in deep conversation about a certain topic.
One that has [Name] talking animatedly about and with Demise listening intently. Nat, who began sharing the platter of assortment of fruit, also spoke up a couple of times. Tide, feeling the need to no longer worry, returned his gaze to the one person, who appeared to yearn on joining. No matter how much he tries to hide it.
The man sat in front of Tide with a neutral expression on his face. Shockingly white hair covers one of his eyes as he stares intently into the open flame without flinching away from the light. His red cloak lays neatly folded beside him, before looking up at the man who has been nothing but kind to him.
“Ghirahim, you do realize that you have the right to speak to him, correct?”
Ghirahim looks up in a slight daze, his visible eye appearing hazy for a moment before closing and shaking head. A smirk lifts on his painted lips and a facade of mischief covers his face. “I’m well aware of what I can and cannot do, such a foolish question.”
Although that doesn’t discourage the older figure from trying to bring comfort. It’s the least he can do for the companion of his predecessor, the one who’s been there since the beginning, but he was also the one who has been disconnected from Demise the longest. 
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whistwhistler · 1 year
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some thoughts on jane tennant & kate whistler and the awful takes i’ve seen on their characters so far...
I think there’s a particularly harmful narrative out there that has been started that Jane “uses & abuses” the people around her (namely, Whistler) when she needs something or when she’s in trouble and I just think that’s incredibly antithetical to who she’s been designed and created to be as a character. Do you really think the writers would a) do that to Vanessa (or Tori), b) be so careless in handling an incredibly complex, woman of colour (and in senior leadership, no less) who has been involved in the espionage game and all the toxicity surrounding espionage, war, intelligence and politics in this current political climate and c) write female friendships/working relationships to be so toxic in an age where females doing literally anything on tv are scrutinized for no good reason? Do you think that maybe, just maybe, it was intentional from the start to highlight how at the core of Jane’s being, that she’s not an inhuman byproduct of what the CIA creates its operatives to be?
NCIS: Hawaii, so far, has been deeply intentional in the way the seasonal story arcs/thematic arcs are crafted. Everything about each season has led up to what happens in its finales. The first and second season has established and zeroed in on the theme of family/found family/etc., and that’s not something that’s just thrown in there because it sounds pretty or cute. The theme of family is constantly reinforced because it’s the backbone that drives this series. Ohana. It’s what sets the Hawaii office apart from the other shows. It’s not as dark, gritty, violent, or depressing, and that actually works to its advantage. Family drives every aspect of this show and its characters. And you know what else? Family is messy. And while I still have my own grievances on how they’ve focused so heavily on Jane (again, for obvious reasons), her family/kids, and her past and not so much the other characters (yet), I also believe it’s worked to their advantage. I haven’t seen a show do flashbacks and retrospective character study on its characters, and do it well, in a while especially for a “police procedural.” For us to even have flashbacks and character-centric episodes is a gift for a procedural, and we have to remember that. We’ve seen bits and pieces of Jane’s past, and now we see how it all plays into this storyline of how her past is coming back to haunt her. Jane is a woman who fiercely loves and cares deeply for those who are close to her heart, but even to those who cannot fight for themselves, or are in deep trouble. That was made so beautifully highlighted in 2x18. That’s what makes her an incredible boss, an incredible leader, and most importantly, a wonderful friend. Has your boss ever invited you to their office for a drink? Let alone to their own home with an open door policy? Has your boss risked their life to rescue not just themselves but others who are wounded and are in desperate need of medical attention, all the meanwhile being badly injured themselves? Jane’s life revolves around family and caring for others because it’s something she was deprived of as a child. Her mother was not around. She did not have siblings. She had a loving father, but with him being in the military, she would have had to move from base to base. Her childhood would not have been steady. Friends would have come and gone. Her entire life was on the go. She’s had to fend for herself growing up. She’s had to stand up for herself. Jane Tennant is a woman who is deeply informed and shaped by her experience and leverages that to be the person she needed as a child to those around her. It’s what has made her an extraordinary SAC. But Jane also isn’t perfect. She has flaws, and they’re making themselves known in this finale.
So now, despite Jane being the Special Agent in Charge of the Entire Pacific Rim™, she also has a past. We can’t ignore that. Jane Tennant has a past. And it’s a CIA past. And from the sound of it, it’s a past she’s not particularly proud or fond of. We can see that Jane’s CIA past has deeply affected her, as it should. You’ve all seen (in some shape or form, fictional or non fictional) the extent of what the CIA is, what it represents, the shadiness and the dark side of how it operates, and what its people are capable of. We know the toxic culture of secrets, lies, deadly surprises and betrayal that can follow with being involved with the CIA. Jane has been involved with all of that. And she is still, unfortunately, involved with that despite having switched agencies and careers. She no longer is a covert CIA operative, she is the SAC of the NCIS Hawaii office. But that doesn’t mean she won’t slip back into covert CIA operative mode the moment she finds out she’s in danger. Like everyone else, Jane has a fight or flight response... She just happens to do both. So what does this mean?
Well, if Jane is in danger and it involves her extremely dangerous, shady CIA past, everyone in her life will inadvertently be in danger as well. Why else would Ernie call Jane out that she was being shady? She doesn’t really have a choice. She’s played the intelligence game long enough to know that secrets, information, and data can get people killed. The people she’s dealt with are extremely dangerous, and if they get the slightest idea of who is important to Jane, they will stop at nothing to eliminate those around her to hurt her. To torture her. Can you imagine the weight of that? Knowing that your past has put your kids at risk for being targets? Your closest friends, your colleagues - your family? Hell, I’d be shady too. Jane is incredibly smart. She knows the loopholes, she knows what angles to play. She knows the risks she has to take. She has been through it and knows exactly how to manipulate and play the system. That’s what makes her such a polar opposite to the character Kate Whistler is. 
Okay, enter Kate. Because I know what you’re all thinking. What was the point of reinforcing the family theme with Kate with the amount of Jane/Kate interactions we’ve had all season only for Jane to use her to get into the bank in Venezuela and then handcuff her to a column in a kitchen, basically leaving her to dry? What was the point of all of this if Jane going rogue anyway is going to put everyone in danger? Wouldn’t Kate be pissed as hell for Jane getting her into this mess, risking her career, putting her in danger, etc etc etc? Well, I’m glad you didn’t ask, because I’m still going to tell you anyway. 
Short answer, Kate didn’t see it like that. Long answer, Kate Whistler isn’t a chump and is a foil to Jane Tennant’s character. Aka, Whistler is everything that Jane is not, and yet, is everything that Jane needs. I’m not saying Whistler is an antagonist (maybe it seemed like she was in the first season, but we’ve seen how she’s grown since then - keep this thought tucked away in the back of your minds for later). But why else would they have introduced Whistler the way they did in the pilot, if they weren’t going to use her to balance Jane out? And vice versa? Why else have they spent so much time developing Whistler’s character, despite her being an agency-adjacent character (AKA, a non-NCIS character on an NCIS show)? Why have they spent so much time writing scenes and moments between the two women and developing that friendship? One, it’s because they’re establishing Whistler to be just as an important part of the NCIS team despite her being interagency, and two, it’s because Jane and Kate both need each other. And most importantly, they trust each other. Keep this thought pinned. Trust. Whistler looks up to Jane, despite her sticky way of operating. And Jane looks up to Whistler because of how brilliant she is. How unlike Whistler is to herself. Jane recognizes that Whistler is someone she needs in her corner; not because she has malicious intents of using Whistler for what she can do, who/what she knows, and what she’s capable of, but because Whistler is just wired differently, and she needs that - dare I say, craves that. Jane has spent so much of her life depending on and trusting people like Maggie who are like her, only for people like Maggie to betray her in the end. She knows that Whistler will never do that, because she knows what Whistler is driven by (protecting the intel/secrets/data to the highest degree, etc.) Whistler knows, understands, and can play the intelligence game just as well as Jane can, and Jane sees how much of a breath of fresh air she is. And for Whistler, despite Jane’s way of not doing things by the book, it’s yielded results. Jane’s methods have worked, and that’s what Whistler has seen and understands of Jane and who she is as a leader. She sees and appreciates Jane’s ideology as a leader, reminding her of the kind of person, perhaps one day, the leader (ASAC, SAC) she wants to become.
And that’s why she’d listen to Jane in going to Venezuela.
Okay, let’s back it up a bit. Jane’s methods have worked.
... But they don’t always do.
Alas, the moment you’ve all been waiting for - Jane’s habits of slipping back into a covert, secretive, protective and shady operative, is not working. Jane going rogue is not working.
And yes, it puts others in danger. It puts herself in an immense amount of danger. 
Okay, so that part was obvious, so what am I getting at? Once again, I’m glad you didn’t ask (because I did, for you), so here we go.
As we can see in next week’s promo, Jane is kidnapped, and is being tortured by Adrian Creel, a dangerous person from her past. Not only that, but is someone who she thought was dead. Both her past and present worlds are colliding, and she’s now scrambling to do damage control. So she goes rogue. We have to remember that Jane is highly intelligent, calculated, and cunning. That combination of words is absolutely fucking terrifying if used for harm instead of good. But that’s not who Jane is. And we saw that in a flashback.
This is what sets Jane apart from the person that Maggie Shaw is. Maggie is a textbook CIA operative. She has little regard for those who cross her and will do whatever it takes to get a job done. Spies are trained to not get attached to others. To push aside their emotions and feelings. And despite Maggie having a soft spot for Jane and becoming a mentor/mother figure to her (which makes her betrayal so deeply wounding to Jane not having a mother of her own in the picture), Maggie and Jane are fundamentally different people. One sees people as assets, assignments, collateral, or worse - collateral damage. The other sees people as human beings. One is completely unaffected by betrayal. The other is deeply affected. One is unfazed by death. The other is. You catching my drift?
Jane’s CIA experience has shown her how terrible the world of espionage can be. How messy, interwoven, terrible, and haunting it can be. Right now, it’s haunting her, and coming back to bite her in the ass. So what do you do when your past is coming back for you in the present? You pull every stop necessary to protect those you care about the most. To protect your family, the people you’d easily lay your life down for. Jane is not the kind of person that would intentionally get others she cares about into messes, nor is she the kind of person that gets people into messes that she herself wouldn’t be able to pull them out from. These are calculated risks Jane is taking. It’s not that she doesn’t know or think that her actions won’t cause problems for herself or others later on, she absolutely knows and understands the weight of every outcome and every choice she has to make. She wouldn’t put her team or colleagues in more danger than they need to be. Please understand this language. She can’t protect them from everything that could possibly happen, but if she has the smallest chance of controlling what she can control, then she’ll put herself on the line first. So she’ll make the choices that have the least collateral damage. She voluntarily pulls herself off the case from NCIS to protect her team. She would rather risk herself getting fired or killed before there’s a slightest chance of danger coming towards her team. She reaches out to Whistler, not because she doesn’t care about Whistler as much as she does with her own team or doesn’t care about her enough to not put her in harm’s way, but because Whistler is the only person she can trust right now (and that’s a massive thing for Jane after being betrayed by the one person she thought she’d never, ever get betrayed by). Jane knows that Whistler is absolutely vital in ensuring that whoever is after her, will never be able to reach Whistler, her team, or her kids. Her team can’t do that (lead her to Venezuela) for her. In a weird way, Jane knows that she cannot do parts of her mission alone, but she also recognizes that she cares too much about Whistler to fully let her accompany her in a mission that she knows that she may not come back from alive. This is the grey area of the espionage game that Jane is playing. Jane going rogue and the espionage world is not black and white. Things just aren’t that easy. And it’s baffling that so many people think “well if Jane would have just been honest and let her team help her they wouldn’t be in danger.” It literally doesn’t work like that. Why else would they continue to highlight the stickiness of Jane’s CIA past? Why even highlight the CIA at all? Simple: to show how drastically different NCIS is, how NCIS operates, but also how much Jane has changed since getting out of the spy game, and how much she’s affected the people around her because of the person she is. It’s not that she’s gone rogue and isn’t letting people in and is putting everyone in danger like everyone sees it to be, but she’s trying to keep everyone safe from how deep and messy things are when they’re not taken care of (i.e. “I made a mistake and I need to fix it”), and how much of a splintering effect it can have if not dealt with the way things need to be dealt with (and I mean “dealt with” in the CIA terms of killing someone). For Jane, Creel cannot know that Whistler helped her get close to him (despite her not knowing Creel was alive this entire time, just that someone has impersonated her and has emptied out the account). Creel cannot know that Jane has kids. Creel cannot know that she is in charge of multiple offices full of NCIS Agents and American government personnel. Creel cannot know anything. The stakes are so fucking high.
Jane is involved in a war that has now involved death, and will continue to do so. And she’d rather it be Creel’s, or hers. What if Jane had allowed for Whistler to accompany her to the house of her impostor in the name of not keeping Whistler in the dark? What if Whistler had been the one that was shot instead of Charlie-1 because none of them had vests on? Or conversely, what if Whistler had been kidnapped along Jane and had been the one getting tortured by Creel in retaliation of what happened to him?
Jane would never forgive herself if harm (or death) came Whistler’s way. So handcuffing Whistler to the column was genuinely to protect her. Not because she’s an ungrateful asshole who just uses Whistler for access or that she doesn’t trust in Whistler’s ability to handle herself in the field or that Whistler wouldn’t have her back, but because Jane knows the violent outcome of what this will be. And she’ll do everything in her power to avoid Whistler (or anyone else in her life that is important to her) to become collateral damage or fall victim to her dangerous past. It’s not that Whistler is a rookie that Jane can’t trust to have her back in the field; it’s that Jane can’t afford for harm to come her friend’s way: for Whistler to get injured, tortured, or die on her account. Jane can’t afford her closest friend to fall victim to something they will never come back from. It’s not perfect, it’s messy, but it’s Jane’s way of keeping her safe. Once again, Jane is built like a spy. Secrets and lies and shiftiness is unfortunately, a part of her DNA. But she also isn’t a heartless, unemotional, ghost of a shell. She cares so deeply for the ones she loves, and it motivates her to do the things she needs to do to keep them as far away from imminent danger as possible.
Okay, now back to Whistler. (I told you it was long)
I think what was greatly overlooked was Whistler’s reaction. She wasn’t angry, hurt, or betrayed by Jane cuffing her to the column. Frustrated, yes, but Kate immediately recognized the gravity of the situation that Jane is in, and once again, worries for her friend diving headfirst into danger. Kate doesn’t yell at Jane, she calls out her name because she fears for her friend’s life. Listen to the tone of their exchange closely. It’s not one that’s done in anger or rage. Both of them know how dangerous this has become. Again, Kate isn’t a poor chump that walked into Jane’s mess. Whistler understood what Jane has asked of her to risk. She didn’t like it, but she also can’t stand around and do nothing while her friend is in danger. Of course she’s going to help. Whistler understands immediately what Jane has walked back into. Whistler knows exactly who Jane is from her time in the DIA. I have no doubt in the back of my mind that she’s run extensive background checks on Tennant and the team while she was at the DIA because of how much of a liability the NCIS team was with the DIA (hence, her having to liaise and almost babysit them in terms of data sharing and collection.) Whistler has seen Jane’s dossier, and she’s probably studied the woman’s profile like she would’ve studied material from grad school or studied a profile on a terrorist. That’s what made Jane Tennant the bane of her existence, but it’s also what fascinates her the most: how unlike Jane is for someone that has worked for the CIA. That Jane puts others first, treats her team like they’re her family, and fiercely cares for them. This baffles Whistler to the core, because she’s worked with CIA/NSA/DEA/all government acronyms type personnel. She’s worked with spies. She’s interrogated terrorists and traitors. She knows the formula of what makes a covert operative. Jane has been everything but that. And on top of that, Whistler has worked with upper brass. She’s worked with bosses, admirals, generals, commanders, ASAC’s and SAC’s. She’s worked with people who don’t care about you unless you have impressive accolades and accomplishments that are worth listening to. So for her to cross paths with SAC Tennant... It drastically changes the way that she sees world; the people that she works with, has worked with, and it changes the way she approaches things. Whistler is a type-A personality; likes to plan ahead, likes to know exactly what is going on; every detail, and overarching piece. DIA Whistler would never have allowed for this to happen - in fact, she probably would’ve been the one to inform the brass about what was going on and would immediately have Tennant arrested for treason. But Kate Whistler, friend of Jane Tennant sees that her friend is in need of her help, and that’s what informs her decision to help Jane and go to Venezuela, despite her not actually knowing what the outcome of this entire thing will be. Despite the high risk she’s taking. Despite the fact she could very well lose her job over this if things go south. Despite seeing how much her friend has shifted back into fight or flight CIA mode. Whistler realizes how much danger Jane is in. So no, she’s not angry. 
But she sure as hell isn’t going to sit around and do nothing either. 
This is where things get real juicy, because once again, DIA Whistler would never. But FBI Whistler has spent enough time around Jane Tennant to know the kind of person she is and her value of others, that people are the priority. And when people are in danger, she will stop at nothing to come to their aid. This entire season has highlighted Whistler coming to Tennant’s rescue in sticky situations (2x08, 2x11, 2x18) and some being situations she didn’t particularly like, but have followed her and/or sent aid, or has gone to rescue Jane herself. And so far, the finale has been the culmination of that. Not because Whistler’s a pawn in Jane’s game, but because of the incredible growth that has transpired in Whistler’s character to become someone who will take risks for others, despite every ounce of her being saying otherwise. To play things safe, by the book. Whistler’s unlearning her patterns and habits of going by the book, being a stickler for the rules, because not everything in life will happen by the book. Having a relationship with someone you work with isn’t in the book. Having a drink with your co-worker at her home after having a 50-cal gun aimed and shot at you by a Yakuza member isn’t in the book. Your friend having a dangerous CIA past isn’t in the book. Not everything is in the book. Whistler is starting to see that. Whistler could’ve easily packed her shit up and angrily gone home. But she stays to go after Jane to try and rescue her. Because that’s who Whistler is.
So, finally, what’s the point of all this again?
Ah, yes. The Tennant-Whistler relationship and how it will be affected by all of this. (Oh, yes, sorry. I forgot to mention this is actually the thesis. I just hoped you would entertain my thoughts long enough and read this far, so if you did congrats. But also, I’m sorry.)
There’s a few articles out there already teasing how this will affect the team in the future - how Jane’s secrets and past will affect everyone, and immediately, how this whole “come with me to Venezuela and help me but also I’m going to handcuff you in the kitchen to keep you safe even though I might die” discourse will affect Jane and Kate’s relationship moving forward. Because on the surface, Tennant asking Whistler for this massive favour feels incredibly transactional and one sided. But if you’ve been watching the same show as everyone else has, this wouldn’t have happened if their relationship wasn’t built slowly on trust. The Whistler we see now isn’t the same Whistler that was introduced to us. The Whistler that helps Jane in Venezuela is a Whistler who, like Jane, is being formed by her experiences, which informs the decisions she makes. The Whistler we see now is someone who would lay their life down for their friend because she knows that Jane would do the same for her. The Tennant-Whistler relationship, aside from the romantic Kacy relationship, has pretty much been the forefront of this season. The tension/disagreements, the favours, the seeking out wisdom and advice, comfort & encouragement, coming to each other’s (mostly Kate coming to Jane’s) rescue. If I may be so bold to say, I actually don’t think this will affect the others as much as it will affect Jane and the choices she’s made. It’s very Jane-centric. It will be Jane-centric in the way it shapes her as a boss, a leader, and a friend. Everyone else is very secure in who they are, in their ability, and who they’re working for. It’s Jane that needs to see that she cannot continue acting on the lone wolf mentality. I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t say that I think this is still very much building into NCIS Hawaii’s overarching theme of family but also how this now could be flipped on its head in later seasons as we explore more of the other characters and their pasts. But like I mentioned earlier, Jane has a past. But so does everyone else. And they needed to establish Jane’s character, all her strengths as well as her flaws, in order for people to see why she goes the absolute lengths that she does to protect who she loves (I’m still so convinced that Whistler’s DIA past and involvement in various top-secret assignments and the many people/contacts she has everywhere will also come back to haunt her in the future and when that time comes, Jane will 110% return the favour Whistler has constantly been doing for her by coming to her rescue this entire season but that’s a theory for another day), but also why the people she loves will also do the same for her (Jesse’s line in the promo, “I’d put my life on the line for you”, and Whistler coming to her rescue literally 4x this season). Jane wouldn’t abuse that. We know that Jane is going to be fine, but in light of these revelations, Jane is going to have to make some major changes regarding the way she operates as a person as a result of what happens from this entire situation. We already know that the season will conclude in its trademark ohana-esque manner (thank you promo pics), but it’s not to say that this won’t cause tension in the future. Family is messy. I can’t stress this enough. But all of them are mature enough to understand that what Jane was doing, was ultimately to protect them all. Even Alex understood the gravity of the situation. They might not like it, but they understand. And that’s an important word - the understanding. They will come to the realization that the damage control Jane was doing was very much for their safety, despite how in the dark they all felt. It’s not invitation for them to be petty, bitter, or angry with Jane. When they find out that Charlie-1 is dead and that Jane was kidnapped and tortured, they’ll see just how dangerous her past life is, and why Jane did what she had to do. Because getting shot or being kidnapped or tortured could have easily been one or more of them, had Jane not played her cards right.
Back to the Tennant-Whistler dynamic. I think Whistler and Tennant are going to continue to have their moments, but I think the establishment of this dynamic (over, say, Jane’s dynamic with Kai, Lucy, Jesse, or Ernie) has been so vital this season, a) because it shows not only how much trust has been built between the two, but how fundamentally different their dynamic will be moving forward from how Jane and Maggie’s relationship was, b) how Kate has never really had a friendship or relationship with someone like Jane ever, and aside from her own relationship with Lucy, and how much Kate also needs Jane as a figure in her life. Both women have been able to lean on each other for support and both women recognize how much they need each other. They see each other as equals; they are each other’s professional/career match (and I will die on this hill despite Kate being significantly younger than Jane, but I think Kate’s career has invited her to tables that people her age would never normally be invited to, but because of her intelligence, high capacity and ability to see things quickly and put things together has placed her higher up quicker than anyone else) and c) the theme of Whistler coming to Jane’s rescue this season will eventually come to a reversal where Whistler will find herself in trouble and will be needing Jane’s support or even rescue, and Jane will be there for her. They’ve hinted at how equally dangerous Whistler’s job is this season. They’ve hinted at Whistler being in the field more, gaining more experience. They’ve hinted Whistler leading teams, working with CI’s, setting up sting operations and leading join efforts in busts. They’ve hinted at the kind of criminals she deals with (serial killers, terrorists, assassins, etc.) This undoubtedly is going to come into play in the future.
Jane values family over everything else. But she also realizes that she can’t just use them when she needs something. She’s going to have to learn how to let her family in, and she’s going to learn that family isn’t transactional, but unconditional. And I think that’s the angle they’re going to play in the latter half of this finale, as well as building into future seasons. The lone-wolf thing will never work. We’ve seen it with Kai in the pilot. We’ve seen it with Lucy (especially in 2x19). It’s not going to work for Jane either. I mentioned earlier, Jane is not perfect. Nobody is. She’s going to have to unlearn things from her past, and she’s going to have to work towards letting people in. She’s going to have to learn to take her own advice. Yes, she’s been badly burned, and being in the espionage game has traumatized her. She’s got literal scars and experiences to show for it. But the beautiful thing is that she has a family surrounding her that will be with her every step of the way - she just has to let them be there for her the same way she’d be there for them in a heartbeat. Yes, this can be so hard to do when you’ve lived on your own and had to fight for yourself for so long, but NCIS Hawaii wouldn’t be NCIS hawaii without these incredibly important themes and arcs, and I’m thankful they’re exploring this with Jane. We’ve gotten a taste of how fiercely protective Jane is with her team and family. When a situation in the future calls for her to step into action, she absolutely will lay her life on the life for her colleagues and team the same way they would for her. I think Jesse’s line to Tennant will be the turning point for her, and she’ll do better moving forward. They needed to do this in order to set up the future story arcs for others in future seasons. Family is messy. But we’re all in it for the ride, and so are they. 
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aemiron-main · 9 months
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The First Shadow, Timelines, Alice Creel, and Swapping Family Members: New Thoughts On Alice Creel vs Karen Wheeler Regarding the Edward Timeline 
(Karen Wheeler Might Be Alice, Just Not In The Way Anyone (Including Me) Thought She Was)
So, to start this off on an insane foot (bear with me).
I think that this is Alice Creel:
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But before you go “oh, Em, you’re just rehashing an old Alice theory, everyone knows this theory”- I DON’T think that this is Alice Creel:
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I a.) don’t think that they’re the same person and b.) I don’t think that the second girl is actually Alice Creel.
Most Alice is Karen theories claim that these two are the same person, and that Karen uses contact lenses or something to have brown eyes, something that I disagreed with.
And I thought that Karen was actually Daughter Virginia until today, and that that little blonde girl was Alice, and that they’re two separate people. I talked about it posts such as this post. Now, I'm not letting go of that theory entirely, I think there's still a chance that it might be true, especially since some of the TFS stuff is still being revealed/might be changed regarding contacts etc etc.
But now, I offer a new idea: that little blonde girl is not Alice Creel.
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She’s also probably not Karen Wheeler either (at least, not the brown-eyed karen that we see in the show. I'm still undecided about the blue-eyed karen childress in all of this)
I think that little blonde girl is Virginia Creel/Daughter Virginia, and that Karen Wheeler IS Alice Creel, but is NOT that little blonde girl that we see. I don't think we've ever seen Henry's sister, Alice Creel, as a child on-screen.
Now, setting that aside, let’s start at the beginning of what I think is going on here, and we’ll circle back to that, and I'll explain why I think this is the case, and why I also believe that the brown-eyed "Virginia" Creel that we see is actually Mother Alice.
SECTION 1: Did Victor Get Peter'd? What The Hell Happened to Victor Creel? 
So, I'm wondering if one of these is true: A.) The Victor in Pennhurst is actually the Edward Timeline Victor, who has been brought into the Henry timeline.
BUT, he's had his memories messed with by the lab and believes himself to be the Henry Timeline Victor (the father of Henry and Alice and the husband of Virginia) but is actually the father of Edward and Virginia and the husband of Alice)/. They likely left the visual part of his memories alone, but messed with the name part of his brain OR B.) The Victor in Pennhurst is the Henry Timeline Victor (the father of Henry and Alice and the husband of Virginia), and never crossed timelines, BUT he's had his memories messed with by the lab.
He doesn't believe himself to be the Edward Timeline Victor the way that the previous Edward Timeline Victor in option A.) believes himself to be the Henry Timeline Victor, BUT he DOES believe that the people he's seeing in his memories are his family when they're not.
This would be because they messed with the visual part of his memories, but left the names alone. And therefore, his actual daughter IS named "Alice," but the little girl in the visuals/his memories is NOT Alice Creel, and instead, is Edward Timeline Daughter Virginia Creel.
Either way, I think his memories got messed with, and either way, both options lead to that little blonde girl not being Alice Creel. Let's go through option A.) first.
This would be the option where Victor got "Peter'd"- aka, being pulled into another timeline like Peter Bishop was in Fringe (and Fringe is confirmed inspo for ST, the ST writers have tweeted about watching it). You can also see this post for more proof of that. In Fringe, it's the son (Peter), who is taken to another timeline. But, if ST wanted to subvert this/flip it, as they often do with their sources of inspiration, then it would make sense for the father (Victor) to be the one who is taken to another timeline. We'll talk about Fringe more later, though.
And you might be thinking "didn't Victor straight up say that Henry was his boy, Alice was his daughter, and then said "Virginia" in reference to his wife? Doesn't that imply that he's Henry Timeline Victor?
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And YES, he did, but, like I said earlier, if the names were swapped around for him/if he believes that he's Henry Timeline Victor, then it tracks perfectly for him to believe that those are the names of his children and the name of his wife, even if they're not. His memories would still be the same visually, he would still be picturing His Kids in his mind, he would just have their names wrong/believe them to be someone they're not (much like Hopper talking about the "wrong kid," back in S1).
And I'm also wondering if The First Shadow is going to be the first time that we see Henry Creel and his family, rather than Edward Creel and his family.
Why am I wondering if TFS is going to be the first time that we actually see Henry Creel's family/see Henry Timeline Victor? Well, it's partially because, like I talked about here, Mike Jibson, who's going to be playing Victor in The First Shadow, resembles Owens WAY more than he resembles Kevin L Johnson/the guy who plays Young Victor.
So, I'm wondering if this guy/Pennhurst Victor:
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IS this guy and IS Edward's father:
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But is NOT this guy/is not actually Henry Creel's father:
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But that This Guy is Henry's father, and possibly a young Owens/if we're seeing Henry's Creel's Father In The 50s for the first time & if Kevin L Johnson solely played Edward's father:
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I know that previously, I said that Owens might be Edward Timeline Victor, but NOW, I'm wondering if he's Henry Timeline Victor, an idea I'll come back to soon in this section when I talk about WHY Victor might have been pulled from the Edward Timeline to the Henry Timeline.
And regarding the idea of us not having seen Henry's family before, there's also the matter of the wallpaper. I talked about the colour-changing wallpaper in the Creel house and how it connects to multiple timelines in this post, however, I want to talk about it again, because I want to talk about what we DON'T see in this regard, rather than what we DO see. And what we DON'T see is the red wallpaper in the family room in any of the 1950s flashbacks. This is relevant because as I talked about in that post, the red wallpaper seems to be from the Creel house in the Henry timeline, whereas the green wallpaper seems to be from the Creel house in the Edward timeline- and the green wallpaper is the only wallpaper that we see in that room in any of the 1950s flashbacks. This would mean that we're only seeing the Edward timeline when we're seeing 1950s flashbacks. However, it's also hard to tell/hard to say Definitively if we're only seeing the Edward timeline because in many of the flashback scenes, the door to that room is shut/simple not visible, so we COULD be seeing shots of the red wallpaper Creel house/of the Henry timeline, but we would have no idea because we can't see that room. BUT, if we ARE seeing solely the Edward timeline in those 50s, scenes, then it would track with the little blonde girl NOT being Daughter Alice/Alice Creel, because Daughter Alice doesn't exist in the Edward timeline- but Daughter Virginia does, and therefore, that little blonde girl is actually Virginia Creel. It would also mean that the mother "Virginia" Creel is actually Alice Creel/Mother Alice.
This would explain why Virginia Creel in TFS has blue eyes whereas Victor's "virginia" in his pennhurst sequence has brown eyes but is never referred to as Virginia by name in the 50s (it only happens when Victor says her name in pennhurst but that tracks with him having his brain messed with)- because she's not Virginia.
It would also explain why in the Dear Billy script, it has Virginia and Alice's names swapped in that moving-in scene: because that's exactly what it would have been for Edward Timeline Victor. He would have been standing beside his wife, Alice, which is what's birefly in the script (the line where they put thier arm around eachother):
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And now here's the big question: WHY? WHY bring Edward Timeline Victor into Henry's timeline???
WELL! I mentioned the idea of Owens being Henry Timeline Victor. And I think that's exactly WHY the lab might pull Edward Timeline Victor into the Henry Timeline. I've talked repeatedly about how it's extremely likely that a.) the lab was involved with the Creel murders/present on the night of the murders but also b.) the lab was setting up the murders/planning things right from the day that the Creels stepped foot into Hawkins.
And we know that the Creel Murders in Edward's timeline happened a few days before the Creel Murders in Henry's timeline. So, if the lab was basically using Edward's timeline as a test run for pulling off the Creel murders in Henry's timeline, but if Henry Timeline Victor is Owens, then they need a fall guy to take the blame for the murders.
Because let's say that Jibson and Owens are the same guy, and that that Jibson-Owens is Henry's father from the Henry timeline. 
But if Owens is the father, and if the lab needs to pull off the Creel murders in henry's timeline too (after all, they happened in edward's timeline FIRST/a few days BEFORE they happened in henry's timeline it's lowkey giving inter-timeline lab fuckery and a trial run), then who takes the blame???? After all, in Edward's timeline, Victor got arrested and then was dumped on the side of the road and taken in for questioning and sentenced, but we don't hear anything about what happens to Edward Timeline victor after his sentencing. He could have killed himself in prison, he could have escaped etc etc. 
He could have dyed his hair pink with smuggled dye for all we know, point is, we don't have a damn clue at ALL what happened to edward timeline victor after his trial/after being sentenced to pennhurst. I'm not saying that he actually killed himself or escaped, but i AM saying that if the lab was to grab edward-timeline victor and bring him over to henry's timeline, we, as the audience, would have no idea based on the papers because the papers don't tell us what happened to him. We hear nothing whatsoever about Edward Timeline victor creeel after his sentence.
The weekly watcher is different because it gives us an INTERVIEW with pennhurst victor while he's in pennhurst, after his trial, indicating that in the Henry timeline, there is, in fact, a Victor in prison in pennhurst. But the Edward timeline doesn't have this, the indianapolis gazette article solely focuses on the day of Victor’s trial, we don't get anything about any interviews later on.
TLDRif jibson and owens are the same guy/are henry's father, and Kevin is Pennhurst Victor but from the Edward timeline, brought over into the Henry timeline. And would still track with what I said about how we dont see that red wallpaper room in the 50s/if that red wallpaper indicates henry timeline & we arent seeing it during the 50s, then that implies that we arent seeing the Henry timeline in the 50s. 
But why would Owens want to kill his own family? Well, he didn't. Going back to Fringe, James talked about the fact that the lab in Fringe staged a murder to try and activate Olivia's powers as a child- and while this may have also been done in HNL with El in 1979/during NINA, I'm also wondering if that's what happened with Henward and if the lab was trying to activate their powers.
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But if they're staging the murders, and if they want things to be believable, they want the public to think that the Creels are dead, then they need somebody to take the blame- and it can't be Owens/Henry Timeline Victor, because he's researching/part of the project. So, who do you grab? You grab his almost-clone, his alternate timeline self to take the blame. This would, weirdly enough, also make Owens the father of Karen Wheeler, as if Owens if Henry Timeline Victor. It would also mean that Alice Creel didn't die (but Daughter Virginia did/that blue eyed girl we saw bleeding on the ground) did die, and that Virginia Creel (the blue eyed TFS lady) didn't die either. Which, she may have gone on to become Connie Frazier, but that's another matter entirely. However, I'm not fully convinced that Owens is any form of alternate timeline Victor, so just keep in mind that I'm not saying any of this as if it's going to be firm fact. A solid chunk of this is just me swishing thoughts around and speculating. And with that bit of doubt regarding option A in mind:
Let's now go through option B.) Options B does not involve Owens being an alternate timeline Victor, nor does it involve Victor crossing timelines at all.
As mentioned earlier, Option B involves Victor remembering the names of his family, but the visuals being messed with/the names being associated with the wrong people.
How would those visuals be transferred? Well, from the other Victor's memories. And going back to Fringe briefly, it may seem like a stretch for Victor to have somebody else's memories, but keeping in mind that Fringe is confirmed inspiration for ST, in Fringe, one person's memories are transferred into another person's mind REPEATEDLY, often against their will, and often without them even realizing it. Olivia, for example, has memories that belong to Fauxlivia (her alternate timeline counterpart's nickname) implanted into her brain by a Brenner-Owens paralleled scientist to try and convince her that she's actually Fauxlivia (and it WORKS for awhile/absolutely had the potential to work permanently). It's abslutely within the realm of possibility for the lab to have done this to Victor.
And continuing on with Fringe, Victor is EXTREMELY paralleled to Walter Bishop (like, the shot of Victor turning around in Pennhurst is taken basically frame for frame of Walter turning around in St Claire's mental institution), and Walter Bishop had part of his brain removed, and lost a bunch of memories, especially memories of of his now-dead son's childhood as a result.
And it's also worth noting that Walter is Peter's father- however, Walter's original Peter died, and Walter pulled the Peter from another timeline into his timeline instead. But the memories that Walter lost of his son's childhood were of his original Peter's childhood- he didn't lose ALL of those memories, but he lost quite a few. Which has me staring at Henry vs Edward and Pennhurst Victor losing his memories of Henry & having memories of Edward instead, not even realizing that they're memories of Edward.
Long story short, either way, whether it's Option A or Option B, or something else entirely, it's EXTREMELY EXTREMELY likely that Victor had his memories messed with, because like I talked about in this post, the Indianapolis Gazette talks about Victor not remembering anything from the night of the murders, and being picked up on the side of the road.
And, like I talked about in this post, Victor and El's arrests are paralleled- and who was El later taken by as a result of being arrested? THE LAB!!!
And also, like I talked about in this post, Victor's flashback scenes have multiple direct NINA paralells- which would make sense if the lab was messing with Victor's memories the same way they messed with El's memories via NINA.
So, there's substantial evidence to support the idea that Victor's memories aren't reliable, and likely have been intentionally scrambled/messed with.
SECTION 2: Back To Alice
So, circling back to Alice, let's go through why I think that this little blonde girl:
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Is NOT Alice Creel. And later on, I'm also going to tie this to why Alice Creel is missing from The First Shadow. You might be thinking “oh, Em, you’re so neck deep in insane theories that you forgot to actually look at the show! They call that little blonde girl “Alice” TWICE! You fool! You buffoon! I banish thee to The Beyond for One Trillion Years for your ignorance and tomfoolery!” However, as indicated by my lovingly labelled screenshots of those exact scenes, I did NOT forget, and thankfully, do not need to be banished to The Beyond:
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And interestingly enough, even though in those two versions of the Creels' moving-in-day scene have Alice being referred to by name, there is one version that doesn't- the Creel Family Trailer:
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And what's especially interesting abou those two versions of that scene where "Alice" is referred to by name is that they're both intentionally set up as being unreliable. They CHOSE to a.) have Victor seemignly be missing chunks of his memory (for example, he completely leaves out things like the exorcism at the Creel house and a ton of other details that are present in the papers)/be unreliable due to very, very likely having had his brain/messed with by the lab and they also chose to b.) have Nancy be in Vecna's memories, which, again, unreliable due to the HUGE chance of the lab fucking with them. Hell, in his monologue, 001 doesn't even give us the name of his mother or his sister- he seems to forget his sister even existed until the end of his monologue, and even THEN, he still doesn't give us her name! And he also directly contradicts himself when talking about how it was "planned" vs having JUST talked about how it was spur of the moment earlier, like I talked about in this post. He's not reliable, and neither is Victor. They could've just given us a scene of that girl being called "Alice" that wasn't through the memories of somebody unreliable who's very very likely had their brain messed with in a million different ways by the lab. But they didn't. The Creel Family Trailer is the only version that isn't set up as being somebody's memories- and especially not the memories of someone who's been messed with by the lab, and it's also the only version where "Alice's" name isn't used/the only version where that little blonde, blue-eyed girl isn't referred to as Alice. Is it not a little suspicious that the most reliable version of these events (the Creel family trailer) is also the version where, conveniently, that girl isn't referred to as Alice?
And I wondered, initially, if this was to conceal Alice's identity/name in the trailer. However, when I dug into it, that doesn't make any sense for these key reasons. 1.) Alice's name had already been revealed in the Netflix Tudum Creel Newspaper trailer. Alice's name was not a secret when the Creel Family Trailer came out. Why conceal her name AFTER having shown it right on-screen? 2.) The name isnt the only change in these scenes. I've talked about this before, but the trailer has quite a few differences from the scenes in the show, especially with the scene of Alice finding the dead rabbit being COMPLETELY different. But focusing on that "coming in the door," scene SPECIFICALLY, there's multiple differences. The light fixture is missing in the trailer:
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But it's there in both the Dear Billly Creel sequence and the Massacre at HNL sequence:
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"Henry" zooms into the house and runs up the stairs immediately instead of standing there all sad:
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"Henry" runs in FIRST, before "Alice", whereas in the show, "Alice" gets into the house before "Henry":
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"Virginia's" line is rewritten- if they simply wanted to conceal Alice's identity, it would have been VERY easy to take the in-show scene, put it in the trailer, and edit Virginia's dialogue to just say "No running," instead of "Alice, no running". But instead, they rewrote the line to say "children, no running":
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So, if this was just a case of concealing Alice's identity/name (a name they'd already revealed, no less), why change SO many core parts of the scene (such as "Henry" zooming inside instead of standing at the door), and why rewrite "Virginia's" line? Why not just literally remove the word "Alice" from her line? LIke, it would have been a million times easier. I could do a quick job of it in capcut on my phone! It would take SUCH a small amount of time for them to do compared to all of the weird changes they made for the trailer & instead of recording a whole new line of dialogue for "Virginia".
And speaking of "Virginia," I mentioned this earlier, but I don't think that's Virginia Creel at all. I think that's Mother Alice Creel, from the Edward timeline. Let's look at the papers- specifically, the Weekly Watcher. The Weekly Watcher says that Alice Creel is 15 years old:
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But this girl, clearly, is not 15:
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And Virginia Creel's daughter, Alice Creel, should be 15 years old. But if that little blue-eyed girl is not 15, then she's not Virginia Creel's daughter. Which makes sense if she's Alice Creel's daughter, Daughter Virginia, and if the brown-eyed mother in those scenes is actually Mother Alice Creel. Like, setting aside production error allegations because I'm not dealing with those anymore, how can "this little girl who is Not 15 is Alice Creel" and "Alice Creel is 15" coexist? Frankly, I actually think there's more evidence to support the fact that the memories/scenes of that little girl being called "Alice," are unreliable than there is to debunk the newspaper saying that Alice was 15.
Why Is Alice Creel Missing From TFS?
If Karen Childress is NOT a Creel in the henry timeline/in TFS, but has blue eyes and is NOT the karen wheeler that we see in the show, as that karen has brown eyes/does NOT go on to become That Karen Wheeler Who Is Mike Wheeler's Mother
And if Daughter Virginia Creel is the blue-eyed little girl that we see in the show, and who Might be karen childress in some way.
And if Daughter Alice Creel is a.) supposed to be 15 in 1959 and b.) mysteriously missing from TFS but is also the brown-eyed Karen Wheeler that we see in the show.
Then, it might explain why Alice is missing in The First Shadow- we're seeing the backstory for another Karen Wheeler/Karen Childress ( whose actress has blue eyes and is likely NOT the Karen we see in the show), and we're also missing an Alice who later goes on to BECOME Brown Eyed Karen- which, Karen Childress and Alice Creel being together in the same timeline causes issues because if Alice Creel actually has brown eyes and goes on to become Karen Wheeler, then WHY THE HELL is she in the same timeline as the other Karen/the blue-eyed Karen??
That would be TWO KARENS IN THE SAME TIMELINE, which might explain why Alice Creel isnt there/might be tied to it. I don't know fully how it works, yet, but we don't really know the ramifications of the same person from two different timelines ending up in the same timeline together. So, if Karen Childress/Blue Eyed Karen somehow got into Alice Creel/Brown Eyed Karen's timeline, then there's a chance that Brown Eyed Karen/Alice Crel was removed from her original timeline, and is therefore now absent from TFS- she's likely still alive, as we see Brown Eyed Karen in the show, but that would still work completely if she simply ended up in another timeline/if Brown Eyed Karen/Alice Creel vanished from the Henry Timeline because Blue Eyed Karen/Karen Childress ended up in that timeline instead. And bringing up Fringe AGAIN, in Fringe, when one person or item is taken to another timeline, something of an equivalent mass must be swapped to the other timeline (like the Indiana Jones sandbag thing- with exceptions to this rule being limited to people with Specific Powers, such as Main Timeline Olivia), and this DOES include people. So, if Karen Childress/Blue Eyed Karen was chilld in a timeline that isn't the TFS timeline, and suddenly got pulled into the TFS timeline, and if Brown Eyed Karen/Alice Creel was the same mass (which makeas sense if they're timeline counterparts of eachother) as her, Brown Eyed Karen/Alice Creel would be pulled into the non-TFS timeline at the same time as when Blue Eyed Karen was pulled into the TFS timeline. Hell, there doesn't even have to be a reason for this happening/it doesn't even have to be the lab planning it! Because in Fringe, things end up pulled into another timeline/swapped simply because of the bridge/dam/veil/wall between timelines getting thinner and the swap happening accidentally. If the blue-eyed Karen Childress is NOT a Creel, and was born outside of the Creel family and coexisted alongside Daughter Virginia in the same timeline originally (before getting yoinked to another timeline), then we have three girls (as mentioned earlier)- Karen Childress, Daughter Alice Creel, and Daughter Virgniia Creel
And if Karen Childress was from Timeline A (Edward Timeline) And if Daughter Alice Creel was from Timeline B (Henry Timeline/TFS Timeline) And if Daughter Virginia Creel is also from Timeline A (Edward Timeline) And if Karen Childress got pulled into Timeline B (Henry Timeline), and Daughter Alice Creel got pulled into Timeline A (Edward Timeline), that would mean that Daughter Alice Creel and Daughter Virginia Creel are co-existing in the same timeline (The Edward Timeline). Which would explain why Brown Eyed Karen/the Karen we know in the show is just chilling and living her life I'll come back to this later, but Brown Eyed Karen/Alice Creel may very well have simply adopted the life of Karen Childress in the Edward Timeline, while Alice Creel stayed missing in the Henry Timeline/Karen Childress was present instead, but Karen Childress chose to keep using her original name, whereas Alice/Brown Eyed Karen adopted the name and life of Karen Childress in the other timeline.
After all, Daugher Alice Creel doesn't exist in the Edward Timeline, and because Daughter Virginia Creel would've still been present in the Edward Timeline, Daughter Alice Creel/Brown Eyed Karen couldn't simply pick up her life, and instead, resumed the life of Karen Childress. And it's hard to figure out what Karen Childress may have done in her new timeline/if she had a family/if her parents were present in this timeline or WHAT, but a lot of this section is just Me Speculating And Trying To Figure Things Out.
However, things also get tricky here, because if Alice Creel/Brown Eyed Karen never returned to her original timeline, then why does the Weekly Watcher report on her death? However, even witih all my theorizing aside, this is an issue that remains even simply with the fact that Alice doesn't seem to be present in TFS- so if she's not around for the murders, how did she die/why are papers reporting about her death? I think there's room there for lab fuckery faking things/covering things up etc etc, but it's still something to chew on.
(and there's ALSO the chance of more than 2 timelines which throws a whole NEW wrench into things)
And you might also be wondering "well, though, how is Daugher Alice Creel Karen Childress' timeline counterpart? Shouldn't Daughter Virginia Creel be Daughter Alice's timeline counterpart? To which I say: no! Not necessariily. There's a LOT of weirdness here, but it's worth noting that ST has chosen a very interesting way to go about the timeline counterpart business, because there's quite a bit of variation. For example, Victor Creel's name stays the same in both the Henry timeline and the Edward timeline AND his position in the family stays the same (the father/husband), but he's younger by 5 years in the Edward timeline compared to the Henry timeline. Edward and Henry's position in the family (son/brother) stays the same, but his name changes to something entirely new, and we don't know Edward's age, so we don't know if that changes. Virginia Creel and Alice Creel are where things get REALLY messy, because they swap names and positions in the family depending on the timeline. Instead of just keeping the same name and position the way that Victor does, OR getting a totally brand new, not used in the family before name but keeping the same position in the family the way that Henry and Edward do, Virginia and Alice instead, swap names and positions in the family with eachother. Virginia Creel is Victor's wife and Henry and Alice's mother in the Henry timeline. However, Virginia Creel is Victor's daughter and Edward's sister and Alice's daughter in the Edward timeline. Alice Creel is Victor's daughter and Henry's sister in the Henry Timeline. However, Alice Creel is Victor's wife and Edward and Virginia's mother in the Edward timeline. And also, in Fringe, timeline counterparts are often messy too/not exactly equal/not always born at the same time- for example Henry Bishop was born and didn't have a timeline counterpart at ALL because there's only one version of his father (Peter Bishop), as the other timeline Peter died as a child. But then Henry Bishop is later erased from the timeline and Peter has a child named Henrietta (born in the opposite timeline from Henry/is Olivia's daughter born in the main timeline rather than Henry who was Fauxlivia's son born in the alternate timeline), but again, because there is only ONE Peter, he fathered both of them and then Henry ceased to exist, and it's all complicated etc.
So, point is, timeline counterpart stuff is not cut and dry or particularly simple or easy here. Which means that there's absolutely stilll room for a.) certain people not HAVING co-existing timeline counterparts the way that Henry and Henrietta don't actually have one because in order for Henrietta to exist, Henry can't exist, and vice versa because there's only one Peter and b.) timeline counterparts just generally being weird/ Karen Childress being Alice Creel's timeline counterpart.
The idea of Brown Eyed Karen/Alice Creel swapping timeline with Karen Childress/wondering why Karen Childress and Alice Creel were timeline counterparts/got swapped instead of Daughter Virginia and Daugher Alice would also tie into Daugher Alice Creel being listed as 15 years old in 1959 in the Weekly Watcher- if Alice Creel was 15 years old but Daugher Virginia (the blonde little girl we see in the show that we think is Alice) is CLEARLY not 15, they're not going to have equal mass- but Karen Childress, could totally be 15, hence why those two would be more likely to swap that Daughter Virginia and Daughter Alice, as Daughter Virginia and Daughter Alice seem to be two different ages/that little blonde girl is not 15, but Karen Childress and Daugher Alice/Bornw Eyed Karen could definitely have both been 15 and therefore far closer to being the same mass.
And also, if Alice Creel/Brown Eyed Karen simply adopted the name and life of Karen Childress after their timelines got swapped (and possibly even gained Karen's memories over time, which as mentioned before, happens in Fringe), then Brown Eyed Karen Wheeler may very well, at this point, believe herself to have always been Karen Childress. As mentioned before, somebody believing themselves to be their alternate timeline counterpart after swapping timelines HAS happened in Fringe. This may also be why Ted and Karen's relationship is so unhappy- Brown Eyed Karen isn't the Karen that Ted originally knew. And this Ted isn't the Ted that Brown Eyed Karen originally knew. And Ted might know deep down that something isn't right (again, this happens in Fringe with people whose loved ones get timeline swapped. Sometimes they notice, sometimes they dont, sometimes they say something about it, sometimes they don't.) Anyway! Lots to think about.
SECTION 3: THE CONNIE PROBLEM
So, this all also leaves us with the question of Connie, though. Why does she have so much Alice Creel coding? Like, the name alice plays on screen twice with her & her body's posed the same way as alice's dead body.
However, I made that post about how TFS blue eyed Virginia resembles Connie. And we don't know what happens to that blue eyed virginia, we only saw a brown eyed "virginia" die. And that blonde little girl with blue eyes is presented to us as being alice creel, but a.) alice creel should be 15 and b.) the whole thing w her name being removed from the trailer.
And so im like. Connie. Are you blue-eyed TFS virginia a few years down the line? Which would be weird if that tfs mother is virginia and not alice, but there's so much name swap fuckery that the association with the name alice could still fit somehow/I just need to dig more. Anyway, things are making me insane as usual.
SECTION 4: CONCLUSION
My conclusion summed up?
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And before you come into my inbox calling me insane, please know that a.) I know and I'm having fun and b.) lots of this is speculation. There's parts with firmer evidence, and there's parts with less firm evidence/parts where I'm just trying to fill in the gaps. My main point is that it doesn't make any damn sense for that little blonde girl to be Alice Creel if Alice Creel is supposed to be 15, and ALSO that there's plausible evidence (such as the trailer removing her name) that she isn't Alice Creel, and that her not being Alice Creel may explain why Alice Creel is missing from TFS. This post is less evidence-focused than most of my posts because a.) so much is still up in the air with TFS and b.) I am very very tired today LMAO, but there's still some solid chunks of evidence in here that I think are worth considering.
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