#but also if it had gone wrong could never have forgiven myself
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
The finalest of photo dumps of most of all the rest of the things in this update that I hadn't posted yet. Cannot tell you how fun these sea creature tea light holders have been. And there's traveling chick chocks too!
Etsy Drop is tonight at 5pm ET! Please be patient, its just my human fingies pressing buttons as fast as I can, and while I cannot guarantee shipping in time for the holidays, I'll get those babies out as fast as I am able 🫡
#hyydraworks#cute#ceramics#traditional art#pottery#illustration#handmade#fantasy#figurine#tealight candle#tealight holder#so happy with how sea turtle came out#kinda wanted to pearl luster them#but also if it had gone wrong could never have forgiven myself#chickens#peach cow#yak#shark#lemon shark#sea turtle#animal art#ornaments#holiday shopping#etsy
379 notes
·
View notes
Text
December 13th
December masterlist
Masterlist
“We have a theory,” Nick started. Annette sat in the barn together with Nick and the potion-master Snully. “The poison had both doses of faebane and a different poison that have cause amnesia. Amnesia is memory loss.”
Annette couldn’t help how her entire body slumped down.
They had been lying to her the entire time. She had trusted them, and they had been lying. How could she have been so stupid? She should have understood that they weren’t kind. That they didn’t want what’s best for her. Tears found their way through her eyes.
Nick nodded to Snully and she left. Nick got up from his seat and carefully embraced Annette. She cried in his arms.
Who were the people she had been calling her family for these three years? Maybe she didn’t know them at all. Maybe they were evil.
They were evil, they had been poisoning her for three years.
“The best cure for amnesia is to learn about your life before the memory loss. I suggest you travel to the Night Court and try to find someone that might know you.”
Going to the Night Court? Annette stopped crying a little was she thought. She knew nothing about the Night Court. She had only seen it on the map.
“The Night Court is north in Prythian. That’s where other illyrians live. Do you know illyrians?” Annette shook her head. “Illyrians are fae like you. They have bat like wings. Illyrians are often very traditional and it’s no secret that female illyrians struggle.”
Nick wanted to send her to a court where she wouldn’t be safe? That didn’t seem right.
“The illyrians live in camps. I have heard that the camp named Windhaven is where the High Lord has most control. I suggest you travel there.”
Windhaven. The name seemed familiar, but she couldn’t recall from where. She had perhaps read about it in one of her books? If only her backpack hadn’t burned, she could have read about illyrians in her book.
“What if I don’t get my memory back? Or if I get lost or scared? I don’t think I can trust anyone else about my memory for some time.”
Annette felt like her entire world had been flipped upside down. Her family were evil. They probably weren’t her family at all, because who would hurt their family?
“You’re always welcome here, Annette. I would allow you to stay, but I’m certain that someone’s looking for you out there. Waiting.”
“You really think so?”
“Just follow your heart, my dear. Follow your heart and you’ll be okay.”
It was a cloud free sky that evening too. Annette and Nick had been planning her travel route for the entire day. She was leaving for the Night Court tomorrow.
Seeing the Winter Lights were a dream come true. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, but she wasn’t satisfied. Something was missing.
“The Winter Lights can also be seen in the Night Court. You would miss them too much.”
Annette turned to Nick as he spoke and sat down beside her. She sat down on the same spot as yesterday. She had watched the lights for an hour already. She had been thinking about everything and nothing. It was refreshing.
“Really? I think I’ll miss them anyway.”
“On the evening of Winter Solstice, the Winter Lights can be seen all over Prythian. Except for here in Winter, the Night Court is the best place to watch the lights.”
They both sat and watched the lights for a while. But Annette sat with some questions she needed to ask Nick.
“You told me to follow my heart, but how do I know if my heart is showing me the right direction?”
Nick leaned back a little and closed his eyes.
“I have always followed my heart, and it has never showed me the wrong direction. I have, however, also ignored the pull of my heart and the consequences were fatal.”
Annette reached her hand over to Nicks and held it.
“My mate and I had a big fight. He was mad and I was mad, so when he pulled on the bond, I didn’t listen. After a while, the bond broke and I knew he was gone. I have never forgiven myself.”
Annette felt shivers all over her body. She wanted to cry. The fear of losing a mating bond took over her entire body. But she didn’t have mate? Or did she?
“Do you think my chest pulling could be a mating bond?” she asked nick the second she realized it was a possibility.
“I would seem similar to one, yes.”
She had a mate.
Azriel had a good day yesterday, but today he struggled to get out of bed. He cried, a lot. And he felt awful. He missed you so much, he ended up throwing up. He was sure he looked like a mess.
He laid in his bed, but the thoughts of you laying there with him only made him feel worse. But there was nothing he could do with it. He couldn’t move without you.
His shadows had been screaming for you the entire night. It had been a while since last time they did that, and it felt so much worse than usual. His head was in a lot of pain.
“Y/N, mate, home, please, miss, need, please”
He understood that they wouldn’t stop.
A knock on his door pulled him out of his thoughts. He didn’t answer.
“The entire corridor is filled with your shadows, Az. I know you’re in there. Can I come in?” It was Rhys.
Azriel didn’t really want to speak to anyone, but he let his shadows open the door anyway.
Rhys walked in with Nyx on his arm. Azriel immediately softened a little. Azriel loved being an uncle even if he didn’t always do the best job.
Nyx loved him either way. Mostly because of his shadows. They loved to play together.
“Hard day?” Rhys asked him, but he didn’t bother to answer. It was obvious that he had a hard day. “Nyx and I thought we would make a snowfae. Cass told me yesterday that you were keeping the traditions alive, so I thought I would ask if you wanted to join. And if you don’t want to today, we can do it tomorrow.”
Both Azriel and Rhys knew that Nyx was too little to request making a snowfae, but it didn’t matter. Rhys was doing his best to help Azriel.
He wasn’t going to let you down. He was going to do this. December was your favourite month of the year. He would do this for you.
Getting out of his bed was perhaps the hardest thing he have ever done. But doing so made you proud.
They walked out on the terrace of the House of Wind and started to roll snow. Azriel made the middle, Rhys made the bottom and Nyx just played. It didn’t take a long time, but being outside in fresh air always helped.
Azriel was going to start making the head of the snowfae, when he suddenly felt the familiar feeling of snow hitting the back of his head. However, it wasn’t as hard and painful it usually was with his brothers. This felt almost soft.
Azriel turned around and was met by Nyx holding up his small hand with the tiniest snowball in it. It was obvious that Rhys was the one throwing snow with his son’s hand, but it either way brought an honest smile to Azriel’s face.
One day at a time. One smile at a time. Suddenly his day became just a little bit lighter.
Taglist: @prettylittlewrites @hailqueenconquer @onebadassunicorn @mich0731 @tele86 @mellowmusings @anarchiii @anainkandpaper @donnadiddadog @atomictyphoonkitten @annablack @graciepies @salvatoresister1 @nastylicious @plants-w0rld
Let me know if you want to be added!
Dividers by: @issysh3ll
#acotar#azriel#azriel fanfic#azriel x reader#azriel x y/n#azriel x you#azriel shadowsinger#azriel x oc#azriel x original character
156 notes
·
View notes
Text
17
"No worries, Elmar, I have made challenge regarding Mahala. As such, she will come home with me." Balor gave no one time to react before he strode quickly from the room, leaving the others to try and catch up. He was grinning as he made his way down the hall. It was game time.
"The fuck you will," Vollrath replied, and almost jogged after Balor. He grabbed his brother, and brought him to a stop in the hallway. Elmar and Baldur weren't sure if they should step in or just go grab Mahala and run. "She is going nowhere with you."
"So, she does mean something to you?" He'd known it. Baldur had been covering for his brother. Balor broke out laughing, then calmed and leaned towards Vollrath. "She needs away from emotional stress and raw power unrestrained in the air. You're a live wire of both right now, little brother. " Balor tipped his head and raised his brows, waiting for Vollrath to try and argue. “And I still give challenge, so…she is coming home with me.” His grin grew wide.
"She doesn't even know you. After all she's gone through she should either go home alone, or with one of us. Do you really want to inflict Coven politics on her after what you know she’s gone through today? Just to be a complete asshole to me?" Vollrath could not even say why he did not want her alone with Balor other than jealousy. Unlike his two friends, it would not be beneath his brother to sabotage things with Mahala. He was ready to resort to violence to stop his brother.
Balor led a faction of the Coven that leaned towards darker magic. They butted heads regarding this frequently via email, but was one of the reasons it had been so long since a face to face meeting had taken place. Not only could Balor cause a rift between him and Mahala, he could lead her down that path. The thought of either of those made Vollrath’s heart hurt in his chest.
"Let her decide." Balor knew he was playing with fire there, but he also wanted to make sure this was not Stockholm Syndrome or some undue influence. He'd never known Vollrath to do that, but something was definitely off with the whole situation. If nothing was being done to cause her to choose his brother, he would abide by the female’s decision.
Vollrath didn't like it, but he also didn't want to keep fighting with him. "Fine. But what she decides is final." The men shook in agreement.
When the four men made it back to Vollrath’s office, it was clear Mahala was tired and really did need rest. On the walk there, Elmar shared his suspicion that she was still suffering a concussion. While he could force total healing, without knowing exactly what you WERE healing, you could do more harm than good. So he had been mitigating symptoms more than anything and trying to boost her natural healing magic.
"Sweetheart," Vollrath started, and from the beginning she could tell something was wrong, "there is a possibility that you may have a concussion. You shouldn't be alone tonight, and someone needs to keep you awake. So, you have an interesting assortment of warlocks to choose from. Baldur, Elmar, myself, or my brother, Balor. I believe you met earlier."
Mahala looked at all four of them in turn. Was this a joke? Maybe a test? How was she supposed to decide on one of them? After at least a full minute, she sighed heavily and closed her eyes. What had she done to deserve such a day? Maybe this was a hallucination and she had yet to wake up in Vollrath’s arms on his couch. Unfortunately, she wasn’t that lucky.
"I have not totally forgiven Elmar and Baldur for their behavior earlier, " she started as she slowly opened her eyes. Mahala wanted to fall into Vollrath’s arms, to feel his lips on hers again, to talk more as they had the night before. However, he was irritated, and she could feel the same pressure in her head as earlier but not as strong. As the day had worn on, she had learned to differentiate the vibration of each man, and it was Vollrath affecting her currently.
Paying no mind to the others in the room, Mahala walked over till she was right in front of Vollrath. Her hands slightly clasped the lapels of his suit coat. "I need you to trust me. You get jealous and mad after one night spent talking, and I get the migraine from hell from it. You're doing it again." A soft sigh escaped her slightly parted lips as her gaze fell to the middle of his chest.
"Löwin, he's still getting used to you having gotten under his skin." Balor interjected, garnering looks from the other four assembled. "He trusts you, he doesn't trust me." His brows rose as he tipped his head towards his brother with an annoyed smirk that narrowed his eyes slightly.
Mahala looked back and forth confused. She felt like she was being set up by being asked to choose who she was leaving with, and she wasn't liking it. "Then why even offer you as an option? What is going on here?" Vollrath tried to put his hands on her lower back as a sign of affection, but now she pushed him off. "No, I feel pushed and pulled like this is some kind of game, and I don't like it. You're all four fucked up."
Pushing away from Vollrath, Mahala strode quickly from the room, tears streaming down her cheeks. Vollrath quickly followed, not sure what he was going to say to make anything better, but knowing that he couldn’t leave her alone. Her tears were already shredding his heart. Fuck, what did he do now?
Balor was right behind his brother with Baldur on his heels, Elmar bringing up the rear. None of them wanted Mahala alone or upset. It was clear that the day's events, plus the familial issues between the brothers, had brought about a situation that needed handled, and needed handled NOW.
"Mahala, wait." Vollrath lightly touched her arm as he caught up with her in the hall. He didn't want to grab her. She'd been jerked around enough by Jonathan earlier, but he wanted her attention. "I think you misunderstood."
She stopped and spun to face him, upset etched on every part of her face and laced through her voice. "Then explain. Do you trust me? Him? What is going on, Vollrath?" Her eyes searched his face, imploring him to give her an answer that made sense, to ease the ache in her heart and eradicate the feeling she'd been a fool.
He sighed, running his hands lightly over her upper arms. "Yes, I trust you. After all we discussed last night, I would hope you would know that. I also have no reason to demand or expect anything from you." Vollrath stepped closer, still wondering where the foreign feelings of protectiveness and possessiveness came from. "Do I trust Balor to keep you safe and take care of you? Yes. Do I think he'd also tell you one sided truths and try to put me in a bad light? Also yes." One hand rose to cup the side of her face while the other found the small of her back to pull her closer to him. "We already know there is something pulling us together, little witch. I'm sorry if my fumbling of handling it is causing you pain. I don't want that, and I don't want you pushed away."
The other three men had stopped a few feet away. Balor wanted to step in, not to cause his brother problems, but because he had a clearer picture of what was transpiring; and also the complications of who she was. There were things he doubted Vollrath knew, things he needed to if he was to be with Mahala and protect her. Unfortunately, he also knew if he even tried to utter a sentence at the moment, he would most likely end up with a broken jaw courtesy of the brother he’d be trying to help.
"I…I just feel so confused with all that has gone on. Last night with us. Then today here, not only with Baldur and Elmar, but with Jonathan too." As she had earlier, Mahala’s hands gently held the lapels to his suit coat. "I don't understand what is going on. Not with us. Not with your friends. Not with any of this." Her eyes slowly closed as she choked back a half sob. Her heart hurt almost as much as her head.
“My brother is not easy to figure out, Löwin.” Balor said from a distance, he might have decided to interject, but not to get in his brother’s reach. “He’s still trying to figure it out himself, and he’s not the best with patience.” The death glare that Balor was getting would make most men wither, but he was not afraid of Vollrath lashing out at him from a distance. For one thing, his brother knew he was right, also, Vollrath had to be wondering what Balor knew that he didn’t.
“You aren’t helping.” Vollrath’s jaw locked and he closed his eyes, focusing on breathing and not hitting Balor. He would keep following Mahala if she kept trying to run away, but he would prefer not to have to.
“I’m not trying to. I’m trying to let her know what she’s in for. After all, you haven’t been paying attention.” Now Balor was just smug and all four of the others were looking at him quite annoyed. He wasn’t going to share anything any sooner than he had to. Watching his brother trying to figure it out was much more entertaining for him, and currently Vollrath couldn’t be much more frustrated.
Mahala took a breath, pulled away from Vollrath, turned and strode over to Balor quickly. The sound of her hand impacting the side of his face seemed to echo off of the walls of the hallway, as the other three men stood there with eyes widening, Baldur’s jaw actually going slack as well. For his part, Balor looked no less stunned than the others that she had not only challenged him, but physically assaulted him. He might be at least six inches taller than her, but Mahala went toe to toe with Balor and stared directly into his eyes, her face only inches from his. Her chest rose and fell with her breath for a full minute before she spoke as she fought to get control of her own anger, fuck everyone else in the room.
“I honestly don’t give one single fuck what your problem is with your own brother, but if it concerns me then I do. So either spit it out in plain fucking English or get the fuck out of here. I’m losing patience with you and for some reason it seems like the other three in this hallway won’t confront you, so I damn well will.” Her back was straight, her head erect, and she didn’t flinch from the icy blue eyes that seemed to be trying to bore a hole in her. She wasn’t sure why Vollrath, Baldur, and Elmar were intimidated by him, but she wasn’t. That could be a mistake, given she had no clue how powerful of a warlock he was, but it was her mistake to make. She’d certainly made enough mistakes in the last twenty-four hours, what was one more?
#writeblr cafe#writeblrcafe#writeblr#authorblr#my writing#my ocs#fiction#fantasy#paranormal#supernatural#magic#witchcraft#dark fantasy#romance#strangers to lovers#strangers to friends#found family#suspense#action#mystery#family secrets#haunting#ghosts#warlock#witch#coven#complicated feelings#complicated relationships#paranormal romance#original fiction
12 notes
·
View notes
Note
🎉 (I'm guessing the answer for this is Ilia?)
"🎉 Which one has the most growth over the course of their story?"
I mean... that really depends on your definition of "growth."
If you want to mean growth as in how much they have gone through, then yes, absolutely. Ilia has lived a whole human life, a whole curse life, and then became a thing that could perceive multiple lives and realities at once and will continuously grow as each version of himself gets to their canon events and also gain the ability to perceive each other, basically becoming one being across multiple different universes and realities.
Now if you mean growth as in how much they have changed from the start of their story to now. Then no. Ilia doesn't actually change much. He stays pretty consistent in how he acts and perceives things (even with the added knowledge of the universe because he just ignores shit like that).
I would say he really doesn't change. Even his human self and non-human-non-curse self are pretty similar. His curse self probably had some growth over time, but he would just go back to his comfort behaviours and just stay the same.
Same with his robot version from the Eriverse. He's gonna stay pretty stagnant and not really change much over time. There's no real growth with him.
This could be because he is basically an immortal being in all these different scenarios, so after some time there is not much growth to happen (and even before that stagnation, he wasn't really willing to change himself all that much), or it could be that he is partly a self insert, partly an OC, so he will always be heavily based off of me.
And while obviously I am going to keep changing myself, Ilia's story can happen much faster than my IRL life, so he is going to go through much more stories than I am experiences, creating a sense of non-movement in his character.
So while yes, technically Ilia has changed physically the most (even then he goes back to his comfort human form as a non-curse-non-human), he doesn't change personally that much throughout his story as a character.
Now, if I was going to pick an OC who has had the most growth throughout their story, it might actually have to be Martha?
I will say, I put a LOT of story into Neon J, and while he isn't an OC, Martha is and is heavily tied to his story.
She goes from a loving girlfriend and wife, to a neglected partner who was basically forced to care for 8 robotic children (which at the time was not normal in the slightest), to being a cheater, then an abuser, then a abuse victim, and finally someone who has realized she fucked up a lot in her past and is just trying to make amends with the people she has hurt.
From where she started, as a very self serving character, to someone who can fully admit her faults and try to grow as a person, I would say she has grown the most as a character. Obviously she isn't going to be forgiven by everyone (Purl-hew never wants her in their life ever again but puts up with it for their family), but at least she is actually trying to become a better person even in her like 60s.
Compare that to other characters like Matvey and Sharon, both who were shitty people and STILL continue to be super shitty people who only care about themselves. Neither of those characters will ever admit they were wrong or at fault and will only ever blame other people (specifically their kids) for everything going wrong in their lives (even when it was obviously their own fault).
So yes, probably Martha. Either her or Carna (again, another Neon J heavily tied character lol).
Though Carna goes through a much more physical change as a character rather than a personality. Fae doesn't really change much, and is still pretty self centered and does whatever fae thinks is fun in the moment (think of like a toned down Mahito or Sukuna I would say), but does end up learning how to care for a select few people (Riko and Synthia specifically).
But honestly, I would still say that Martha grows much more as a character throughout her story than any other OC I have (maybe this is because the whole Neon J family is heavily inspired by my own life and experiences as a child, or maybe because I was just super obsessed with Neon J and 1010 for like 3 years. Who knows).
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Let's (re)Read The Great Hunt! Chapter 33: A Message from the Dark
The Dark is R-- Wait, wrong book series. Never read that one. Don't spoil it for me, and I won't spoil Wheel of Time for you. Unless you want the whole series, this book and every other, spoiled. Then click Keep Reading. Also I don't actually care about spoilers myself so tell me whatever. It means nothing to me!
This chapter has what is technically a new icon. You'd be forgiven for not really noticing, this icon is pretty much the same as the leaves on a line from book one, but there's no more vine. Also the leaves have been rotated 180 degrees. It carries the same associations as the previous icon, which will never appear again.
“Lord Rand, they didn’t come out again. They must still be in there.”
We readers naturally know that this just isn't so, thanks to Loial's statements last chapter.
“They all pretend to be so proper, but. . . . Lord Rand, every one of them says he’s loyal to his master or mistress, but they all hint they’re willing to sell what they know, or have heard. And when they have a few drinks in them, they’ll tell you, all whispering in your ear, things about the lords and ladies they serve that’d fair make your hair stand on end. I know they’re Cairhienin, but I never heard of such goings on.”
The nobility of Cairhien neither encourages loyalty as a virtue (they'd all kill Galldrian and take the crown for themselves if it were so simple) nor do they behave like people who are worth being loyal to. A common flaw in the upper classes is the inertia of respect, which is another reason Rand needs to upend the system by conquest.
They kept asking me if the Ogier were coming back, and if Galldrian had agreed to pay what was owed. It seems the reason all the Ogier stonemasons left is because Galldrian stopped paying them, except with promises. I kept telling them I didn’t know anything about it, but half of them seemed to think that I was lying, and the other half that I was hinting at something.
It's always fascinating how the intricacies of the Pattern present themselves. Galldrian is a failing ruler, Rand and Loial need to be in Cairhien without being separated, and so the two are tied into each other.
“Rand is not mad, Mat,” Loial said. “The Cairhienin would never have let him in here if he were not a lord. They are the ones who are mad.”
Loial is of course missing (or not engaging with) Mat's actual meaning and rather hilariously summarizing the state of the world instead: it's gone mad, so a madman is going to have to set it straight.
Darkfriends leaping out of the night would not be much better than Trollocs.
Under the circumstances, they'd be quite worse. Even Barthanes wouldn't be able to argue with Rand killing Trollocs in his back yard if they were there, but killing his loyal retainers would be something else entirely.
But how long before he tells somebody what I am, not even meaning to? He could not believe Mat would betray him on purpose; there was that much of their friendship left, at least.
Eh, he's definitely thinking about it right now. But mostly in a grumbling to himself kind of way.
“You humans are always so rash and hasty. And now you have me doing it. Elder Haman would speak to me severely, and my mother. . . .” The darkness hid his face, but Rand was sure his ears were twitching vigorously. “Rand, if you don’t start being a little careful, you are going to get me in trouble.”
Loial is approaching Nynaeve & Mat levels of critical lack of self-awareness. Boy is already in trouble and virtually all the new trouble in his future will be that of his own choosing.
The space between the opening gates was a black so dark it seemed to make the night around it lighter. The pitch-blackness oozed out between the still-moving gates.
Well okay besides Rand trying to let Machin Shin out of its cage. This is an interesting echo of how Rand's plans to break the seals are premature but that's clearly unintentional. And of course all of this with Rand trying to use magic only to be hint with its corruption is very thematic for what's happening right now.
He hurled it all at the black bulge, standing out a full span from the Waygate, now. He did not know what it was that he hurled, or how, but in the heart of that darkness bloomed a coruscating fountain of light.
Well it's probably not balefire. I hope it's not balefire. It's horrifying if it was! Rand's probably using something much more simple though, since it keeps building up. I'm not sure if we see this particular technique again later; I think it's interacting with Machin Shin weirdly enough to be hard to ID.
The One Power roared through him; he rode it like a chip of wood in rapids. The void began to melt and flow; the emptiness steamed with freezing cold.
Really, this is a great illustration of how far Rand still has to go as a channeler. If he's like this under his own power, he'd burn himself out in an instant trying to use the Choedan Kal right now.
He was a pool of the One Power. He trembled with it. He could smell the grass, the dirt beneath, the stone of the walls. Even in the darkness he could see each blade of grass, separate and whole, all of them at once. He could feel each minute stirring of the air on his face. His tongue curdled with the taste of the taint; his stomach knotted and spasmed.
Well, here's Rand trying to do plot-convenient ultra-heroin in small doses at parties. Let's see how long he goes before his next hit.
“I only found the leaf and put it back,” Loial said, shrugging. “It seemed that if we could not get the Waygate closed, it would kill us. I am afraid I’m not a very good hero, Rand. I was so afraid I could hardly think.”
Silly Loial, that is bravery.
Rand suddenly wanted to laugh; to find the Horn and the dagger—if they could be found, now—he had to go back to the Aes Sedai. They had let him loose, and now he had to go back.
Little bit paranoid there since y'all are way, way off of any script Moiraine or Siuan had in mind, just saying.
And I say this is the last time I go running back and forth with messages. If you want to say something to somebody, you can talk to them yourself from now on.
I don't think this lasts very long for Mat at all. It's also certainly meant to be setting up his role as intermediary with the Seanchan which... yeah that doesn't pan out, does it? But he does a few other messages in between.
Verin shook her head. “We must go, Lord Barthanes. I’ve not been in Cairhien in some years. I was glad of your invitation to young Rand. It has been . . . interesting.”
I wonder what she and Barthanes talked about offscreen. He must have been upset about Fain, all things considered, but did he blab or what?
He says he will wait for you on Toman Head. He has what you seek, and if you want it, you must follow. If you refuse to follow him, he says he will hound your blood, and your people, and those you love until you will face him.
Funnily enough, this is effectively foreshadowing for Fain attacking the Two Rivers next.
“We will speak of this later,” Verin said, so firmly that no one spoke at all on the ride back to the city, to The Great Tree.
I feel bad for Moiraine. She's all "Don't steal cursed gold," and "Stay inconspicuous while we're in town" and the boys treat her like it's opposite day, but Verin gives one non-instruction and everyone takes a vow of silence on the spot.
“No one knows exactly what Machin Shin is,” Verin said, “unless, perhaps, it is the essence of madness and cruelty. It cannot be reasoned with, Mat, or bargained with, or talked to. It cannot even be forced, not by any Aes Sedai living today, and perhaps not by any who ever lived. Do you really think Padan Fain could do what ten Aes Sedai could not?”
Well objectively speaking, he did. And it's funny because Mat says that the Black Wind is of the Dark One before Verin corrects him, but... her correction isn't really a correction, knowing what we know. The Dark One is the essence of madness and cruelty. Machin Shin is very much what it might look like for an unconstrained avatar of the Dark One to inflict itself upon the Pattern. And Fain is imbued both with that original darkness and the human I-Can't-Believe-You're-Not-a-Darkfriend variant that would let him order Machin Shin around in the same way that Rand purges the taint from saidin.
But how long before he decides I’m not coming? Why did he set that guard if he wants me to follow?
Or perhaps Fain didn't so much order the Wind to do anything as corrupted it with obsessive thoughts in turn and he has no idea that the Black Wind is following Rand.
“There were certain things left in the dungeons at Fal Dara, writings that indicated a connection between what happened that night and”—she gave Rand a quick glance under lowered brows—“Toman Head. I still do not understand them completely, but I believe we must go to Toman Head. And I believe we will find the Horn there.”
Verin's not even trying to be subtle. It's a good thing that the boys already know about Rand's channeling and Ingtar is so monomaniacal or somebody might have figured it out by now.
Stedding Tsofu lies not far from the city, south and east. It is a young stedding, rediscovered only perhaps six hundred years ago, but the Ogier Elders were still growing the Ways, then.
So this clarifies the timeline of the Ways a bit more. We know they started darkening around the War of the Hundred Years but that Machin Shin wasn't observed until sometime after. Presumably it took four hundred years for the darkness to reach the point where the trees and plants died.
She did not speak, and he walked away from her, but when he turned to take the stairs she was still watching him, dark eyes sharp and considering.
Verin's got to be wondering how far into the prophecies he can get before he stops denying everything, but luckily for us his denial time is almost over.
Unluckily, the chapter is over. Next time: Thom and Fain cause trouble in very different places.
#let's read#wheel of time#wot#robert jordan#wheel of time spoilers#wot spoilers#rand al'thor#hurin#loial#mat cauthon#verin mathwin#ingtar shinowa#barthanes damodred#uno nomesta#perrin aybara
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Anthony's Stupid Daily Blog (727): Thu 14th Mar 2024
Up early for a driving lesson. I already have my full driving license but I haven't driven for over ten years and so I've decided to take a few lessons to jog my memory and work off the rust to make sure I don't accidentally kill someone (if I kill someone with a car I want it to be fully intentional). The instructor arrived at 9AM and seemed flabbergasted at the fact that I hadn't driven in so long. I explained to him that I just preferred motorbikes and that I was never able to shake the urge to look down at the gearstick when I needed to change gear. I asked him whether or not he thought it might be better for me to get an automatic car and he said in his opinions manual cars are better but I think he might have just said this to mae sure I didn't ditch him to start learning how to drive automatics (which to be honest I probably still will. I only booked a few lessons with this guy because I couldn't find an automatic driving instructor in time). Very early in the lesson he told me that in any gear above first if you ease all the way off the clutch and the ignition then the car will move forward on it's own. This must be a fairly new thing because I'm certain that when I was taking lessons with my old instructor Joe if you did this then the car would definintely stall. I was understandably a little bit nervous and sometimes unaware of how sensitive the pedals were but for the most part I drove with caution and didn't make any major mistakes. I've got another lesson booked in with this guy next Wednesday but I'm still going to try and find an automatic driving instructor in the mean time because to be honest having to change gears all the time was still bugging me. To be honest I can't for the life of me understand why you would bother building cars with manual gearboxes if you have the ability to build cars that change gears automatically.
When I got back in the house I watched last nights Dynamite which featured the eardrum shattering debut of Mercedes Mone FKA Sasha Banks. The crowd gave her a thunderous ovation and I have to admit that hearing an arena full of people chant "CEO" is pretty cool. This nickname is a nice play off her old WWE character but with a twist. I was really disappointed when CM Punk got fired as I thought he was a perfect fit for AEW and if utilised correctly could be the key to AEW bridging the gap between itself and WWE. However I think Ospreay, Okada, Mercedes and main event Swerve and Wardlow should more than fill the gap IF they are booked well. This evening I ordered a pizza and about fifteen minutes later I saw a guy with a delivery rucksack pull up outside my house on a pedal bike and gesture to me to ask if I''d ordered food. I thought this guy must pedal faster than Lance Armstrong if he's managed to get from the city centre to my house after only fifteen minutes and also the staff at La Dolce Vita must have bought a new superpowered oven to have cooked the fucker in less than fifteen minutes. As I suspected though the guy had the wrong house and it was a McDonalds delivery that he had in his rucksack. It’s a good thing I’m not an arsehole or else I could have just kept it and treated myself to two dinners. Once my pizza finally arrived I tuned into last night's Hollyoaks. At one point Leela was complaining to Peri about Joel's behaviour and Peri told her that she was 37 and she wasn't likely to meet another guy like Joel so she should just get over it. I could have forgiven Peri for covering for her killer boyfriend and for almost killing Dave but age shaming her goddess mother Leela by implying that 37 is not young? Now she has gone too far! Elsewhere Tony was consoling Ste over his guilt with a relaxing cup of tea. I put the following hypothetical scenario on Twitter:
Tony: Here drink this it'll make you feel better Ste: I CAN'T HANDLE THE GUILT ANYMORE I NEED TO GET THIS OFF MY CHEST! Tony:
There was also some more sinister shit with Frankie and JJ and to be honest now that I know that JJ has been sexually abusing his own sister, future episodes with these characters are going to be a tough watch. I know soaps are always heavy on the drama but JJ, Ste and Joel all going through the worst shit imaginable. Is it too much to ask for the odd lighthearted storyline to offset the tragedy every now and again? I will say though that watching Warren doesn't feel like much of a chore any more given his empending departure. For the first time in a long time I haven't muted the sound and watched a YouTube video while Warren is on screen because I know that he's leaving soon!
0 notes
Text
It’s hard to believe that.....i-it’s coming up on one year since I met you.....
And.....it hurts to think of how.....at the time, I had thought that....we clicked right away....I-I really believed that I’d found a new, strong bond that would last a long time.....I’d found people that were on the same page as me, that I could talk to, have long conversations with, and simp together with....
In such a short time, I got attached.....I looked up to you guys....You inspired me to keep writing.....More than one of my fics wouldn’t exist without you.....You all helped me....feel....c-confident....in my writing.....so much that I kept doing it.....And I can’t thank you enough, for being the reason that I can go back and read the fics I wrote, that I.....feel.....g-genuinely proud of......
We had so many fun times, simping, trading ideas, rambling about our OCs and OC x Canon ships without being embarrassed.....m-making things together.....even just hanging out.....
To think that I’d be here a year later, by myself again.....
With so much to say, yet....not being able to.....
I felt so comfy around you......I felt accepted.....and that was wrong of me.....
I didn’t know what I was and wasn’t allowed to do, and....I-I really have no excuse for that.....I-I did things that other friend groups let me get away with, and....got too negative.....I-I got too into venting about fandom stuff I didn’t like.....I can’t even be mad that my words were misinterpreted as attacks, cuz I shouldn’t have said them in the first place....I could go on and on about things I should’ve known, or should’ve done, yadda yadda, but.....n-no matter what, it’s all over. It’s done. And.....lessons were learned.
September through the first half of December last year were the most miserable I’d ever been in years. Not only due to the guilt, and emotional trauma, but also.....being scared of myself. Of saying anything.....literally anything that could be negative at all....
But, again, lessons were learned. Misery builds character, and.....And now, I feel like I’m a better person after having gone through that. I know more about what not to do, and I’ve been avoiding it all since then.
Everything’s fine now, but.....
I-it still hurts.....it still feels like a part of me hasn’t moved on.
Cuz.....I know, that the talk I was promised, will probably never happen. I....w-was probably lied to. And that’s fine, cuz you never owed me anything.....I-I’ll never truly know just how hurt you were......I would never try to initiate that kinda thing with you. It’s your choice whether or not to contact me.
I-I just....REALLY wanted to talk.....an actual talk....a calm, rational talk......for us all to explain ourselves.....and for me to give an actual level-headed apology straight to you all. And....e-even if I wasn’t forgiven, at least I would’ve tried to lay out the facts.....That I never wanted to hurt anyone. I wanted to be believed, that’s all.....
What if I’d been given that chance? What if we’d tried to talk things out....? I’ll never know....
I can’t contact the two of you I looked up to the most, and that stings....Knowing I’ll never be able to make nice with you.....but, I hope wherever you are, that good things come your way, because you’re both such nice people and such talented writers.....
To the one who recently gave me kudos: You cannot imagine how happy that made me! Like, seriously! To see that, even if you don’t wanna talk, that you’re still around......and you don’t hate me enough to not let me know that.....Ugh, I was so happy that day....
I-I’m sorry I’m rambling, but.....y’know, that’s nothing new with me...My point is....
Thank you. Thank you all....I-I know we didn’t know each other for that long, but you really made me happy while I was there.....thank you for inspiring me, and thank you for the lessons you taught me. And, while I wish I could talk to you still, the memories we shared and the gifts you gave to me are still enough. I’m so, so, so sorry about everything I did that annoyed you....and I hope your lives are better without me. ^^
0 notes
Text
The only thing I’ve had to do since two years ago is think and figure out every situation that I made the wrong choice or didn’t look at all the options despite thinking I did. I know hindsight doesn’t help me get back everything but at least I want to know not whether I was right or wrong but if I could’ve made better choices instead. I definitely could have, but I also don’t have a lot of the knowledge about myself. Getting with my ex there was a lot of things that started in the self-discovery pile because she would just ask what I liked on some topics. I could answer that easily when it came to material hobbies, when it came to my tastes that was definitely harder for some things. Just because I never really thought about it and I’ve always just gone with the flow or liked to be the one doing things. I only had a rough draft of how and why my brain works this way and ran on a lot of gut feelings without like trying to address why I was even thinking this way in the first place. Like man it’s been much more hmm not comforting but enlightening knowing what things exactly are wrong with my brain and ways to fight against it so that I can do things that are closer to who I am/how I see myself.
Regrettably I didn’t do this when I was in a relationship that I treasured more than anything -- and that’s a big regret. The only thing I can really do is keep growing and try to find things that work. If things end up happening again then hell yeah I’d be happy but I would hope that at least I’m a much better person than I was. I still really don’t think I’m that great, I don’t think I’m worth much and I really don’t know what I even have to offer someone... this is something that was damn near impossible to type right now. It hurt to see it appear on this screen, because it feels like a harsh truth. Maybe when I’ve become a happy person this will change a little. But right now I can’t see it, it’s difficult. I think I’ve forgiven myself for making my mistakes, but not for hurting her and just continuing to make dumb choices with someone I found so precious to me. I can’t hate myself for it though as much as I want to and I can’t hate her and won’t. I mean shit that’s literally on the opposite side of the spectrum to what I feel. I can really only say that we both messed up in our own different ways and didn’t know what to do after that, but it makes us very, very human.
0 notes
Text
Betrothed in Alfea pt 2
Requested by @cyd0129 : I was wondering if you could right about sky of eraklyon x reader where he and the reader and betrothed/married in the first episode of fate:winx saga and they share a room and she is heavily pregnant? And Bloom is like ‘?’
Pairing: Sky x reader
Warning: Mention of birth/labour
Part 1
Masterlist
Sky and y/n lay calmly on their beds of their new dorm. Sky's arm was wrapped around y/n's waist, his hand laying on her swollen stomach. The two lay in silence, enjoying each others company before y/n gasps, smiling when she feels the baby kick. Feeling it too, Sky looks down at y/n in awe before kissing her forehead causing y/n to sigh in content.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the feeling of them moving around in there.” Sky stated as y/n leans her head on his shoulder. “Hmm, won’t be long until there kicking around in our arms or on the changing table when we try change them.” Y/n stated, rubbing her stomach affectionately. “And I can’t wait for that.” Sky stated with a smile. “Yes well, your not the one who has to push the little one out when the time comes.” Y/n stated, eyes widening slightly. “True, but they say you forget all about it when you see their face for the first time.” Sky tried to comfort her. “God I hope that’s true.” Y/n sighed before the two laughed slightly. “Oh, I shouldn’t of done that, now I need the bathroom again.” Y/n groaned, feeling the babies pressure on her bladder after laughing. Sky laughed and helped his fiancé up off the bed as they heard a knock on the door. “Be a dear and get that for me.” Y/n joked as she waved her hand, waddling in the direction of the bathroom. “Yes my queen.” Sky shouted back jokingly before moving to the door.
The smile on Sky's face dropped when he opened the door and seen who it was. In front of the door stood Stella, shuffling her feet in awkwardness. She looked up and met Sky's disappointed gaze, causing her to grimace slightly. Y/n and Stella used to be real close friends, often known as each others best friends, but over summer Stella pushed y/n away like she was some gone off food. Sky still remembers the day that y/n called him crying about how Stella had just told her they weren't friends anymore without a reason and him going and staying with her. He also knows that if y/n sees Stella and talks to her, she would most likely forgive her. Y/n was the girl everyone knew could never stay angry with someone.
“Is y/n there?” Stella asked hopeful to see her ex friend. “Yeah, but your not talking to her.” Sky stated protectively, not as forgiven as y/n was. “Sky, please, I know I did wrong but I really need to see her.” Stella begged. “Sky who is it?” Y/n shouted to him as she finished in the bathroom. “It’s just me y/n.” Stella shouted out, seeing how Sky was debating with himself on what to say. “Stella?” Y/n asked in confusion as she headed in the direction of the door, standing beside Sky who kept his gaze on Stella with a glare “What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t coming back this year?” “I had to come back, my mom was overbearing, wanting me to be too perfect. My dorm is full of first years, can I bunk with you for the night.” “No.” Sky stated abruptly. “Sky.” Y/n warned, causing Sky to look down at her. “What, y/n, she walked all over you, abandoned you over the summer, she can’t possibly think that you are going to let her back in after that. I won’t let you. You don’t need that right now.” “Sky I appreciate what your doing but, I got this okay. Go back inside, I’ll be there in a minute.” Y/n stated, grabbing Sky’s hand and squeezing it slightly. Sky sighs and nods before heading back into the room out of sight from the girls. “Y/n please, I know what I did was bad but you have to believe me it was for your own good, I couldn’t have what happened happen again, especially you. I would never forgive myself if I did. Please y/n, I can’t go back there.” Stella stated, taking both y/n’s hands in hers while looking her in the eyes. “Alright, but just this once, we don’t exactly have the room for people staying over. You can sleep in the babies nursery, there’s a recliner in there.” Y/n sighed, hoping she wouldn’t regret it.
Stepping to the side, y/n allowed Stella to walk into her and Skys shared dorm. Sky looked up as he heard footsteps coming towards her and went to protest upon seeing Stella walking behind his girlfriend only to stop when y/n placed her hand up. Saying nothing, he gets off the bed and follows the girls as they walk towards the nursery.
The room that became the nursery wasn't big, but it was enough for what the baby would need for their first year. The cot lay in the middle of the room while a changing table with a set of drawers beneath it was on the left, a recliner opposite it for then they fed the baby. Stella looked around, catching sight of the ultrasounds that hung on the walls.
“He or she?” She asked, looking at y/n as she grabbed a pillow and blanket from the basket beside the recliner. “Waiting till there born.” Sky stated, leaning against the door frame as he moved to check on y/n. “The nursery looks great.” Stella stated, trying to keep the conversation going. “Thanks,” Y/n smiled, giving Stella the blanket and pillow “It’s late, get some sleep. See you in the morning.” Y/n stated before moving towards Sky who wrapped an arm around her waist. “Thanks again.” Stella stated and Sky nodded at her before closing the door behind them.
Y/n and Sky got ready for the night, y/n putting on one of Skys t-shirts as it was one of the few things she was comfortable in, before crawling into their own bed. Sky sighs in content and places and arm behind y/n's shoulders as she leans back, and leans down to kiss her stomach causing her to smile. Y/n placed her head on his chest before closing her eyes, both falling asleep, unaware of the events that would shortly happen.
--------------------------------------------------------
In the middle of the night, y/n awoke with a gasp, feeling abrupt movement from the baby. Trying to ease the babies movement, she placed her hand on her stomach only to feel something wet trickling down her legs. Pulling back the covers, she frowns upon seeing the wet patch. As another kick is felt she hits Sky abruptly, nearly hitting him in the face as he woke with a start. Rubbing his eyes Sky moved to turn on the lamp before turning his attention to y/n, frowning when he seen her winch in pain.
“What’s wrong, what’s happening?” Sky asked, worried for y/n and the baby. “I dunno, they won’t stop moving and I just wet the bed.” Y/n spoke through a deep breath and Sky frowned and looked down to see the wet patch. “What’s going on?” Stella asked, having heard the commotion and went to see what was happening. “I dunno, y/n’s feeling intense pains.” Sky stated, not looking Stellas way as she grabbed y/ns hand, pushing hair back from her face. “Y/n how far along are you?” Stella asked. “eight months.” Y/n spoke, finally feeling some ease before looking at Stella with wide eyes. “What, what is it?” Sky asked before y/n felt another intense blow to the stomach. “I don’t think I wet the bed, I think my waters just broke.” Y/n stated, breathing through the pain. “Your in labor, but your only eight months.” Sky spoke in confusion. “Babies come early Sky.” Y/n shouted at him in anger as the wave of pain intensifies. “Okay okay sorry, sorry. Stella go get Dowling, y/n lay down and try to get comfy alright, your okay. You can do this alright.” Sky ordered Stella before turning to y/n as he moved off the bed to help y/n to get comfy. “I didn’t expect this to happen now.” Y/n stated as the pain subsided. “I know I didn’t either but we’re going to be parents, our little one will be here soon.” Sky comforted her, smiling as he kissed her head gently. “Yeah, we’re going to be parents.” Y/n smiled before Stella and Dowling walked in with Silva coming in behind.
“Y/n, you’re sure you’re in labor.” Dowling asked for clarity as she moved towards the young fairy. “Yes I’m sure.” Y/n shouted as another wave of pain came. “They’ve never been like this before.” Sky finished for her as Silva placed a hand on his shoulder. “Alright Sky, let Dowling in to check over her, come with me to get Harvey.” Silva stated to his unbiological son. “I don’t want to leave her.” Sky stated. “Dowling needs to check over her, you’ll be back quickly.” Silva stated, helping Sky move away from Y/n before ushering him out of the room. “Alright y/n you won’t feel anything, I’m just going to check over baby alright.” Dowling stated, nodding at the young fairy. “Yeah.” Y/n nodded, placing her head back in exhaustion.
Dowling hovered her hands over y/n's swollen stomach as y/n moved in discomfort. Her hands glowed as she closed her eyes, concentrating on the baby, trying to figure out what way the baby was lying and how far along y/n was. She smiled before coming back to reality, just as Sky and Silva came back with Harvey. Sky moved straight back t oy/ns side, taking her hand as she cried in pain as the contractions became closer together. Silva ushered Stella out of the dorm before leaving himself, staying close incase he was needed.
“What’s the status Farah.” Harvey asked, placing a bag on the bed beside y/n and moving beside Dowling. “Baby in position, y/n needs to get ready to push.” Dowling stated causing y/n to look at Sky with fear. “It’s going to be okay y/n, your doing amazing, nearly there.” Sky smiled before y/n screamed again. “Alright y/n, next contraction start pushing.” Farah stated as Harvey moved other side of y/n and Dowling moved to bottom to deliver baby.
----------------------------------------------------
Y/n screamed out as she made her final push before crying, hearing the sounds of her baby crying. Sky smiled with tears in his eyes, moving to push back hair from y/ns face before kissing her cheek.
"Congratulations, you have a healthy baby boy." Dowling smiled, passing him to Harvey to be cleaned up before cleaning y/n up. "You did it y/n, we have a baby boy." Sky smiled, happy tears falling. "A baby boy." Y/n stated weakly, tired from all the pushing. "Here he is." Harvey stated, handing the baby to his mother who cried as she hushed his crying. "Hey baby, I'm your mamma, I love you so much, my sweet baby boy." Y/n cried, caressing the babies cheek as he cooed in content. "He's perfect." Sky whispered, taking his sons small hand, chuckling as the baby boy wrapped his hand around his thumb. "Looks just like you." Y/n stated, looking at Sky, offering up their son to him. "The future prince of Eraklyon." Sky stated, carefully taking his son, not moving his vision from him. "He's our little prince." Y/n agreed, smiling as she watched Sky bond with his son.
The two teachers watched fondly as their students bonded with their first child, knowing that there world would be in safe hands.
Tag list: @wikipikis-blog @mxacegrey
146 notes
·
View notes
Text
So i rambled for way longer than i thought i would and may have gone totally off track from where the original post went. I just had to talk with my own ongoing experience with religion and how i was made to learn about it. ill just copy and paste the last paragraph as a tldr
TLDR: Its useless to raise your child as a christian if all you are doing is enforcing routine and rules without giving a reason or meaning for them, in fact, it can leave them more lost and leave them to either abandon it, or force them to pick up pieces on their own.
---------
I agree, but depending on how its done, it can be way too overbearing. I grew up in an extremely orthodox christian family and my mum was really strict in what we had to do.
Of course praying and going to church is important but the problem was that we would go to an arabic church so when i was little, indid not understand a word, and that's why i started to feel that church was a massive waste of time. It was meaningless to me and even when we went to an english mass, my mum didn't explain what was going on so i still didnt understand the meaning of what was being said and still found it a waste of time. (I still to this day get irritated when going to church because of this, old thoughts stick sometimes)
My mum also wouldn't teach us the meaning of praying properly. Obviously its talking to God but to me it was just reading words that made no sense to me from a pre-made book. I never learned how to acctually open my heart to God and actually feel like im talking to him.
Those were the main reasons why i hated being a christian, i was just not taught what any of it meant in a way i could understand and it was being pushed way too strictly onto me and too often when i didnt even know what the point was.
I also cant bring myself to go to confession because sure, maybe a priest has permission to forgive sins but i thought God was able to hear us praying and that if we really wanted to be forgiven, surely God will understand if we do it through prayer and not have to talk to someone about our sins, surely he understands how difficult it can be confronted by another human who you feel is still on a human level and therefore has no reason to hear what i want God to hear?
Many questions ive had have been dismissed by my mum and by others at church by "it's what God wants us to do" or "it's what's in the Bible" when i wanted a meaning behind it. And when i express my doubts of being christian, they just "solve" it by enforcing everything harder, which is what drew me away in the first place, even when i express what the problem is.
Ive also noticed way too many things im told to do or beliefs that are told i should believe that i feel directly contradict something else ive heard before or what im taught that God is like and it just makes the entire idea of the Bible so trivial to me.
I will admit, i do still feel doupt about being a christian. Dont get me wrong, i certainly believe in God and that he exists, there is no doupt in that, but i still find it difficult to do "what the Bible says" because ive never been given a reason to care about it.
And ive been trying to figure out how to fix that, but the problem is that i have to on my own. I pay attention to church now, but only because im old enough to be able to decipher the meaning on my own. I never feel close when im "praying" where i force myself into a room and read out pre-written psalms from the agpya, i feel close to God when i have a question for him randomly in the car, and i just stop my thoughts to ask them, and even if i dont get a direct answer, i often feel much better, or when i feel like i need to say something to him while im walking randomly, but all i was taught was to robotically read out stuff to "speak to God" instead of being taught that maybe prayer doesnt need to be a structured thing to be real.
Ive had to figure it all out on my own, and still i have so many unanswered questions and so many doupts because my mum never actually taught me the meanings behind them.
Its useless to raise your child as a christian if all you are doing is enforcing routine and rules without giving a reason or meaning for them, in fact, it can leave them more lost and leave them to either abandon it, which i was so close to doing many times before, or force them to pick up pieces on their own.
Yes i believe in God and many things ive been told again and again stuck with me, and i still think certain things that i was taught all because i was raised "like a christian", it is better than raising your kid completely without it if you believe in it, but i really think that if you are going to raise your kid as a christian, then really do raise them as a christian and not raise them like following a rulebook
Also allow the child to make their own interpretation on what they learn, the Bible has been translated hundreds of times and meaning can change. Let them contradict you if they think something different as long as it doesnt hurt anyone (being lgbt+ for example doesnt hurt anybody!) Being a christian to me is having your own connection with God, not being forcefed beliefs even if you do explain them properly.
“Happiness in family life is most likely to be achieved when founded upon the teachings of the Lord Jesus Christ.” – The Family: A Proclamation to the World
I’ve seen a lot of people giving up on the idea of the family and the gospel lately, so I felt like I should share. There is nothing broken about the ideal of a family with a father and mother and children, all striving to live as Jesus taught. Not all families look like this, and not all families that try to follow the gospel are happy, but that doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with the idea. It is still worth striving for.
If you ever worry that you are somehow doing your child a disservice by teaching them what you believe and encouraging them to follow the commandments you believe in, consider whether they would really be happier without it, and whether they would find it on their own. Without your active, positive influence, they will be far more susceptible to the adversary, who will not step back just because you do. He does not have their best interests in mind. The world needs parents who care enough to show their children the path. It is up to the child to decide whether to walk it.
#i just felt that this was important to say#i do a little ramble#christianity#christian#christian orthodox#christian faith#christian living#faith
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
Better Man.
~~~~We might still be in love, if you were a better man. ~~~~
Taehyung x OC
Rating 18 +
Angst.
Implied Infidelity in the past.
Chapter 1 ~ Walk out the first time.
"Are you okay?" My mother's soft voice came from behind me and i panicked, hurriedly swiping at the tears that were streaking down my face. Heart pounding, I grabbed a bunch of tissues from the dresser, patting my face down hurriedly , making sure to keep my back to her.
"I'm fine, Mom." I said , voice surprisingly steady as I turned around to smile weakly at her. She stood near the doorway, a petite woman of fifty with greying hair and too many wrinkles.
I thought she looked older than she was and i knew I had a part to play in that. Sighing, I tried not to cry more, moving to gently take my son out of her arms.
He was four years old, fast asleep and smiling sweetly in his slumber. He had downy black hair, feather soft and warm brown eyes. He looked incredibly like his father, the resemblance stunning even though he was so young. I stared at him some more, laying him down on the bed and brushing the hair off his face.
"Are you sure there is no mistake? Taehyung ssi wouldn't hurt us like this..." My mother said, sounding broken and I felt a pang of sympathy. But also annoyance.
Us.
Us....like she had an equal share in the hurt I was feeling.
I was the one getting a divorce but my mother made it sound like it was personal to her as well. Like somehow, the fact that she now had to meet her friends and tell them that her daughter was divorced could compare to the pain I was feeling. To the sheer anguish that was filling me.
To be fair though, my mother had loved Taehyung very much. Her favorite son-in-law . My sister's husband had been a mean drunkard who had brought a lot of misery to our family. Taehyung by contrast had been a loving, filial son in law. He had cared deeply for my parents, paid for my father's funeral ( even though the man itself was nothing more than a drunk , cheating fool who had abandoned us ) and he had been the most kind man .
I swallowed.
Maybe , you should have forgiven him. Maybe , you shouldn't have divorced him . So, he slept with another woman. Fine. It was one night... just one night. you should have gotten over it! Was it worth it to spend all these countless nights alone? To break your mother's heart a thousand times over?
The funny thing was, i had forgiven him. Maybe right after I had found out. He had stood there, looking shell-shocked and horrified and his eyes had begged me for forgiveness and my heart had cracked , the way it always did whenever I saw him in distress. And when he had looked me in the eye and said, " I’m sorry, Jang mi..." I had forgiven him right then and there.
But it was the forgetting that was hard. The fear that it would happen again. The fear that somehow, I was the reason he strayed. And that kind of fear can be debilitating. For the first three weeks, I'd tried to pretend it hadn't happened. I had tried hard to see him the way I had always seen him but it had been impossible. everytime I saw him, my heart had broken anew. It had been hard but I had to accept that things would never be the same. That I would forever look at him and remember what he’d done. That I would forever wonder if he would do it again.
So we had done the wise thing.
At first a break.
A few days apart to get our head on straight. Then I’d found a job and I had to move closer to the office to make the commute easy. And then suddenly, I wasn’t seeing him even during the weekends , to spend time as family for our son’s sake. And just like that , a whole year had passed and we were separated. Only meeting to hand Hoshi over to each other.
"I'm sorry mother." I said softly. I knew that she blamed me, a whole lot for the separation.
People with children didn't leave each other over infidelity in my country. You hit your husband, denied him from your bed maybe but you didn't break up a family over one night of bad decisions. You just didn't .
But for me, it was beyond the act. It was the broken trust, the shock of knowing that some other woman had given him something I couldn't, the fact that he had even wanted it from another woman had been enough for me to crumble on the inside.
But, none of it mattered now.
He wanted a divorce. Officially. Wanted to end it for real.
It was jarring, how badly it shook me. I felt unaccountably lost and confused and disoriented. I couldn't imagine not being Taehyung’s wife , i realized with a stunning sense of self realization.
Call me irrational, but apparently, I couldn't stop thinking of him as my husband , even after two years. Soon he wouldn't be my husband.
He would be my ex -husband.
i hated that word.
It had such a plethora of negative connotations to it. When you hear it , you just brace yourself for unpleasantness.
Because it is unpleasant. A marriage ending, a family breaking, feelings hurt , hearts shattered, angry words tossed...its all a very unpleasant experience for everyone involved.
An ex husband was seldom a harbinger of happiness, more often a reminder of choices gone wrong, regrets and wasted time. and I didn’t want to associate Taehyung with a word like that.
Taehyung who was still the kindest, warmest human being I knew. The best father in the world.
I felt like someone had sucked all the strength out of me.
I didn’t really want to think about the call I’d gotten from Taehyung last night. An appointment with a divorce lawyer. It had been followed by an apology because apparently, someone in the law firm had let the info leak. And now it was all over the sleazy tabloids that fed on people’s misery.
It was impossible to escape it too, Taehyung was famous. An idol. And actor. The country's sweetheart. And he was the epitome of perfection. The beautiful, talented actor with an impeccable record of well behavior.
I knew that literally everyone on the planet thought he was a literal angel.
I remembered how much , by contrast, I had been hated when I'd married him.
I could just imagine how much more it would all be this time around. And i wondered if it bothered Taehyung too. Did he perhaps wish he’d never met me
?
It had been sheer luck that we had met....
In fact, if Jimin's car hadn't broken down right outside our home on that cold December night, I wouldn't have even met Taehyung. A great cosmic shift, somewhere some butterfly flapped its wing a certain way and suddenly, Jimin’s car ran over a thumbtack and his phone was dead so while he tried to fix the damage , Taehyung just had to knock on our home and I had been the one to open it.
Boom. That was it. Love at first sight.
I had been a high school kid and he had been barely nineteen. Fresh faced and cheerful , the struggling idol from a small company. He hadn't been surrounded by fans or chased by saesangs. He hadn't had security tailing him. No daesangs, BBMAs, or acting awards. No blockbuster movies to his credit , no chart-bursting songs either .
And I had fallen in love with that version of him.
The hardworking, talented young man who worked twice as hard as anyone around him.
That's right. You've loved him for fifteen years. So it's understandable that you're upset. Now, maybe you can move on too. Go on a few of those blind dates that Jiyoung is always setting you up on. Go live your life instead of being a zombie. Get a hair cut. Dye your hair red. Do something to get your life in order.
"I still find it hard to believe that he would want a divorce. Jangmi yah... did you tell him you forgave him? Tell him you wanted to try again..." My mother said again and the distress in her voice was equal parts heartbreaking and exasperating.
"Mother, I don't want to try again . We aren't married anymore. It's over, whatever it was between us. "
Whatever it was.
How cruel, to have all that love, all that affection reduced to a phrase like that.
What a pity.
"But what about Hoshi? He needs his father..." My mother cried out and I willed myself not to snap. She means well, I thought miserably.
"He has a father. Taehyung is an excellent father and you know that. Don’t start that again.”
My mother sighed.
"I still feel that this wouldn’t happen if you tried a little bit. He’s a good boy. Such a good boy and you could never do anyone better. Why are you so full of pride, Jangmi... so prideful...you should be a little humble. Think of the kind of man he is...where would you find a man like that ? And moreover .... Taehyung loves you. i know he does." My mother said stubbornly.
I sighed, feeling my fingers shake from the effort not to scream. I wasn’t strong enough to have this conversation with her. Not now. Possibly never. Taehyung did love me. Had never made any effort to hide it. But sometimes, love wasn’t enough. It just wasn’t.
And I wanted to yell at my mother she was at least partially to blame for me walking out on Taehyung.
My father had left us for another woman , when I was twelve. I had seen the toll it had taken on my mother and I just knew that I would never let a man do that to me. My mother had later confided in me that it wasn’t the first time. He had done it before. A lot of times. And my mother had always forgiven him. Let him back into our lives.
And one night, drunk on soju she had confided between hiccups, ‘ I wish I’d walked out the first time.”
And that had stuck with me.
Walk out the first time.
If he cheats on you , walk out the first time. Don’t stick around waiting for him to do it to you again. Walk out the first time.
And so I had.
“ Should I talk to him? Tell him you’ve changed your mind? “ My mother began and I felt my patience snap.
“No!! Could you just, for the love of God, stay out of this, ma? It’s over. Our marriage is over and it has been over for a long time. A piece of paper doesn’t really change that, does it? Its not my fault you can’t get over it but that’s a you problem. And you need to fix it yourself. “ I shouted.
My mother immediately recoiled, eyes shuttering down.
“Of course. You know the best. Who cares how anyone else feels, right, Jang Mi? You always know best.” She said softly, and I exhaled, shaken. There it was. The guilt trip. It was never ending.
Please... I just need to go now.” I moved to grab my bag, :” I need to go get ready for the meeting with the lawyers tomorrow. You can keep Hoshi with you tonight. I’ll come pick him up after I’m done and then I’ll drop him off at his father’s place.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
With Taehyung and I, our break up hadn’t been terrible.
It hadn’t been terrible because our own penchant for being terrible had always been very minimal. We didn’t do swearing or fights or threats and it always annoyed our friends that we got along so well. That it was so easy for us to forgive and move on with each other . That we were the one couple who didn’t hold grudges or bring up past mistakes.
Which is why, when we did break up, none of our friends had tried to change our minds over it. They had accepted it rather calmly, shocked at first because it was so out of the blue but not opposed to the idea itself . They just trusted us to know the right thing to do because we were easily the most mature , the most level headed couple in the entire group. We were usually the sounding boards , the voice of reason in whatever petty conflict our friends were involved in .
So when it was us, needling a little advice, a little guidance, our friends had been woefully ill equipped to help. They had merely hummed and nodded and empathized. Maybe that was another reason I’d left. I hadn’t considered the alternative. No one had asked me to consider the alternative.
Our friends had watched us drift apart watched us break up, but they hadn’t really asked us why.
Because if something had caused Kim Taehyung and Jang Mi to break up, man, that must’ve been a really huge issue.
So the break up had been amicable. Gradual and slow but mostly amicable, eased by our mutual love for our son. We wanted him happy and he was happy when we were happy. So we put on a front, laughed and joked in front of him and let him have some semblance of normalcy in his life.
It wasn’t easy.
From him, it had been nothing but a mess of heated glances, touches laced with intent and eyes begging forgiveness . every gaze of his was a silent scream for a second chance that I was not at all ready to give.
Because for me, the raw hurt and anger and frustration that bubbled up every time I saw him , it had nowhere to go. It stayed churning in my gut, made everything bitter and unpalatable and I wanted to hurt him for hurting me. How could I think of a second chance when the hurt from the first, was still so fresh, an open wound festering.
Self esteem in tatters, I had hated him fiercely.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The meeting was at his company, and I arrived at nine in the morning, with a few more minutes to spare. I knew the place like the back of my hand, was here at least once a week either to pick or drop Hoshi off and I knew that the conference room in the third floor was sound proof and cut off from the rest of the building for extra privacy.
Which was a little too late because I’d found two tabloid newspapers waiting outside my apartment this morning.
I opened the door carefully, surprised to see Taehyung sitting in one of the chairs, bent over a sheaf of paper on the table and next to him a leggy girl in a small skirt hovered, fingers resting lightly on his shoulder, bent at the optimum angle to show him her curves.
I sighed, looking away.
It was way too early for this.
“Mia!” Taehyung’s voice made me look up, and I watched as he stood up, pushing the chair away and moving to me . He was easily the most good looking man in the country. And he looked so good at thirty five that it was impossible to look away from him.
He was dressed in a pale blue shirt and black slacks and it never amazed me, how good clothes fit him.
I took in the broad shoulders, thick arms and the lean waist, the carefully styled hair and the breathtakingly beautiful face and sighed when he kept coming closer, hands held out. .
Of course, the customary hug.
i let him wrap his arms around me, my face buried in the comforting warmth of his body, the scent of his cologne filling my brain . He always smelled so good it made my heart hurt. I tried not to let myself get carried away. Tried to remind myself that this wasn’t anything more than a.....
A facade ? Or was it? Was his affection genuine?
Was I just too cynical?
I shook my head, pulling away and smiling a little at the genuine venom in the leggy girl’s face.
“Are you okay? Where’s Hoshi?” Taehyung brushed the hair off my face, eyes warm and I wondered if he’d forgotten we were here to get a divorce.
Whenever we met, Taehyung acted like we were still together.
No, that wasn’t it.
He just didn’t act like we had broken up. He was affectionate and open and cooperative. It always left me in a sort of limbo, unable to navigate our relationship with clear boundaries. There were no line to stop myself from crossing, because he just didn’t draw them.
“ Ms. Lee says we just have to go over the details like the alimony and the custody and the division of assets and then we can just proceed. Get it all finalized. “ He said casually, when I moved away and sat on the chair opposite him.
“Okay .” I said casually.
He smiled and turned back to the girl next to him.
“I’ll join you after the meeting Lisa.” he gave her a nice wide smile and the girl practically bloomed under the attention before bowing curtly in my direction. I watched her walk away, slightly amused.
“Bit younger than your usual type.” I commented , glancing at him. He gave me a look.
“I’m not dating her.” He shrugged.
“Does she know that?” I retorted.
It was dumb. Uncalled for. I was being a bitch, really but the urge to evoke some kind of reaction from Taehyung was something I’d never really out grown. I liked getting under his skin.
Taehyung sighed and gave me a little smirk.
“Are you jealous, Mia mine?” He teased.
It felt a little like someone had dug a nine inch dagger straight into my heart.
That stupid nickname.
God I couldn’t bear it.
Swallowing i looked away.
“Sorry. “ he said quietly, a few seconds later.
I nodded curtly.
“Don’t do it again.” I said hoarsely.
“Why not?” He whispered gently.
I groaned.
“Taehyung... “
“it’s just a name...why does it bother you so much?” He whispered.
“The same reason you’re asking me for a divorce.” I said softly.
He blinked.
“Mia...”
“Because we both know its time to stop.” I said quietly. “ Stop dancing around each other , stop doing...whatever it is we’ve been doing these past two years and give our relationship a name. “
“I’m not very fond of labels.” He shrugged. I glared at him.
“Well tough luck. Labels are good. Labels are great. They let you draw boundaries. “ I retorted.
“You sound like you’ve had enough of me.”
“Well, haven’t you had enough of me?” I snapped.
“Not even close.” He leaned forward gently, eyes pinning me to the table with a gaze so strong he may as well have used his body. And it didn’t help that two years wasn’t enough time to forget how it would feel if he had used his body. How it would feel to be stretched out on that table, him on top of me, hands working my clothes open, lips kissing their way down my jaw.
I could almost taste him, taste the minty freshness of his breath, feel his tongue in my mouth, the hardness of him inside me. My thighs clenched because I hadn’t gotten laid in two fucking years and even if i did, no one would ever compare to the man in front of me.
“Mr. Kim? Mrs. Kim? “
The lawyer’s voice broke the spell and i straightened, swallowing. Ms. Lee had walked in , and I watched her close the conference door behind her before locking it gently.
She was young, dressed in a business suit , a no nonsense bun and had small round framed glasses. She gave me a nice smile, shook hands with us both and placed her briefcase on the table before glancing between us.
“Shall we begin?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Author’s Note : its gonna be a bumpy ride.
261 notes
·
View notes
Text
My headcanon of Donnie and Leo’s relationship when growing up together
Okay, so when thinking about the boys being a little younger, I can’t help but imagine Leo taking on a bit of a more antagonistic role in the family when growing up. Not that they’re not close as brothers, but I do find myself thinking that Leo could have been a bit more of a bully when younger.
Leo can be a bit of a jerk towards his brothers in the series, and especially looking at his behavior in Lair Games and Air Turtle, he kind of has the bad habit of lording his own superiority over his brothers and milking his winning for all it’s worth. We also know that Leo being a poor winner is a very old and known behavior. Leo is also very focused on being better than other people (going with how small social circle was before the show, this probably mostly meant his brothers when growing up), and while he’s very sure of himself he also has bouts of severe insecurity where he’s very desperate for reaffirmation.
Where as with Donnie, I find his behavior currently fits very well with a very sensitive child being picked on a lot when younger and over time hardening more into this “emotionally unavailable bad boy”. To me Donatello is always a very emotional individual, only he has trouble connecting and explaining himself to other people especially because he’s so intellectually gifted. I can see Donnie in Rise being a bit of a crybaby and pushover when he was younger, something that I see keen eyed Leonardo focusing in on and exploiting. This would create a relationship were Leo would rile Donnie up a lot since Donnie would be such an easy target and always guarantee a reaction.
Kids just kinda tend to be mean to one another sometimes, especially they get bored and/or want attention. Just look at the dynamic between Mikey and Raph in the 2003 series. Mikey picks on Raph constantly, because it’s easy and it gets a reaction. If Raph wouldn’t react to Mikey constantly goading him on, Mikey would probably find something else to entertain himself with and leave Raph alone for the most part. But Raph can’t really keep a lid on it since he has a very explosive temper and gets swept up easily in his emotions. But yeah, I can see how in Rise this dynamic growing up could have shifted more to have been between Leo and Donnie. But instead of growing angry like Raph, Donnie instead would mostly just get very emotional in general.
I think that as a sensitive kid, regularly being picked on would turn that up to eleven, thus making Donnie hypersensitive. You know the kind I’m talking about, the kinda kid that’s so easily triggered by any perceived hostile behavior that they tear up over the smallest of things and constantly run over to their caretaker for comfort, a type of behavior that tends to grow a bit tiring after a while. Since it’s obvious that the person Donnie would run to most of the time would be Splinter, I think Splinter would in turn grow to be a bit desensitized by Donnie’s tears and claims of teasing, maybe even get exasperated from time to time. Here you have four very rowdy children that you have to run after constantly to make sure they don’t end up killing themselves and/or each other, and one of them keeps crying out that the others are being mean to him. I would understand if you would just get a bit done with it all after a while.
So in this situation Splinter would mostly apprehend Leo for picking on his brothers in the beginning, and especially for picking on Donnie, but after a while would also more turn to Donnie and tell him to deal with the issue himself instead of always running to Splinter to hide behind. Not in a mean way, but more in an “I can’t be the one to keep solving all your problems, Purple” kinda way. But I think this would send the wrong message to Donnie and he will instead interpret Splinter’s words more as a command not to bother him anymore with his issues. As a result he will act more emotionally distant towards his father after I think, and tough it out more when he’s overwhelmed and/or feeling vulnerable, maybe even isolate himself more.
With Leo and Donnie I think it first grew a lot worse before it got better again. I think focusing in on Donnie and picking on him a lot grew into a bit of a habit for Leo, as it was funny to him since it always garnered a reaction. Donnie would grow increasingly upset, much to Leo’s delight, until the day that Donnie wouldn’t take it anymore and snap. He’d attack, cuss out or accuse Leo of being a bully, and Leo would be so taken off guard by the accusation that he wouldn’t know what to say or do. Leo wouldn’t see himself as a bully, even tho I think he would have kinda been one over that span of time, and this conflicting image of himself would shock him so much that he would be forced to reflect on his behavior and his relationship with his brothers, with the focus laying mostly on Donnie. I think that after this altercation Leo would have gone to Donnie and apologize but deny being a bit of a bully while still validating his feelings to a certain extend and promising to stop teasing him so much. Donnie would accept the apology, but the damage would already be done. Donnie would be a lot more emotionally closed off, since until that day it kind of taught him that those many emotions of his can and will be used against him. He would have become more aggressive and guarded, but over time mellow out more into the more familiar teenage Donnie we all know and love with his dry humor, sarcastic snark and anti-social tendencies.
I think that this would have played out when Leo and Donnie were between the ages of 7 to 10, and when they both grow older they will actually realize what had happened and heal. Leo will apologize for real, and Donnie would have already forgiven him. I think Leo would never have meant any harm, he had just been bored and Donnie was just sure to be entertainment. Donnie didn’t know how to handle himself back then and I’m sure that in between Leo picking on him he was nasty back as well (since I do believe Donnie can be a bit vindictive if he wants to). They were both younger, and when you’re a kid it’s difficult to think of others and the consequences of your actions.
But yeah! That’s what I think Donnie and Leo’s relationship tended to be like when they were a bit younger! And it’s not the case that in between the ribbing they didn’t also play around with each other, would tussle and take comfort in one another. But you know what I mean when you have siblings. It’s very easy to simultaneously dislike and love them, forgive and forget when you’re having fun, and honestly, there never were any mal-intentions. Just kids figuring out how to better take care of each other.
#rottmnt#donatello#leonardo#turtle tots#splinter#tmnt#headcanon time#my art#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rise of the tmnt#tmnt 2018#tmnt 2k18#teenage mutant ninja turtles
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Numbers
Summary: Sebastian doesn’t want to be another number to you, but little does he know he’s the only one.
A/N: Everyone say thank you to @jessalyn-jpeg for always being willing to cry over this man with me.
Important distinction: Italics represent his thoughts, while bold italics represent hers
Word Count: 3.2k
And away, and away we go!
__
The sun was high and warm, and the sounds of wood cracking against leather grew louder as Y/N walked towards the baseball fields. “Yo, Number 1, lookin’ good!” she whistled, her fingers wrapping themselves in the chain link fence surrounding the field.
There was a loud laugh from the man playing shortstop, and he turned to either flip her off or stick out his tongue, but a baseball came flying in his direction, high and powerful. But not high enough. Almost lazily, Sebastian lifted his heels off the dirt, raising his left hand in the air, the ball coming to a stop in his glove.
“Right field, get ready!” Anthony, the pitcher shouted. “Stan’s lucky charm showed up!”
“I don’t need luck, Mackie,” Sebastian taunted, pulling at the sleeves of his jersey. “I’m Number 1 for a reason. Best shortstop in the state, right here, baby!”
“Mackie! Stan!” the coach barked in warning.
“Sorry!” both men laughed. And with his brief pause, Sebastian took off his hat, waving it at Y/N in greeting as she took a seat in the stands, before putting it back over his sweaty locks of brown hair.
As the practice continued, more girls made their way out to watch the team, and Y/N couldn’t blame them. Something about a guy’s ass in baseball pants, especially when that ass belonged to Sebastian Stan. And the college baseball team didn’t have any complaints about the attention they gathered, plays becoming more dramatic than they needed to be as a chance to show off, until the coaches finally called it quits.
“So,” Anthony asked Sebastian as they headed for the dugout. “Is today the day you ask out Y/N finally? Or should I try to shoot my shot? Like what's going on here, man? Cuz whatever it is between you, it’s gone on way too long, and I only got so much patience.”
Sebastian wasn’t sure how his face could grow warmer after being in the sun practicing for two hours, but it did. “I- We’re friends, ya know? And it’s not that I don’t wanna ask her out. It’s that I don’t know how. Or how she’ll react. It’s… a whole thing, ya get me?”
“Dude…” Anthony shook his head. “I say this because I care. But if you’re gonna make a move, make it fast. No one wants to be the one to cross you when we all know you got a thing for her. But if you’re not gonna shoot your shot…”
“Thanks…” Sebastian said, not sure if he appreciated the obvious advice or not. He knew he needed to ask Y/N sooner rather than later. But the idea that his teammates were lying in wait for him to either make a move, or step aside stirred up feelings of jealousy. But the only way of making sure they didn’t date her… He slung his bag over his shoulder, before squaring them and strutting out of the dugout, headed straight for Y/N. “Now or never, Stan,” he whispered to himself.
“Seb!” a girl called out and he turned to the sound, putting a smile on his face.
“Hey.” He offered a small wave, his eyes spotting Y/N, and kept walking, but then more girls were calling his name, batting their eyelashes, and touching his arm as they asked questions, and somehow Y/N got lost in the shuffle.
Y/N watched from her spot, the smile on her face dropping as she watched Sebastian get swarmed by girls who only wanted his attention so they could later brag to their friends that they’d gotten to talk to the star of the baseball team. And Sebastian wasn’t the type to be rude, even when he should.
Sighing, she shouldered her bag, heading down the bleachers, figuring she’d she go rescue him from his oh-so terrible prison of adoring girls.
“Hey, Y/N,” a shy voice called out as her feet hit concrete.
She lifted her gaze to find one of the newer players smiling at her. “Oh, hey, Tom,” she smiled back at him. “Good practice out there.”
“Heh, thanks,” he mumbled, his cleat digging into the ground. “So… you waiting for Seb?”
“I was yeah,” she admitted, looking over at Sebastian who was still under siege. And then a swell of anger bubbled inside her. If he couldn’t be bothered to pull himself away from them for her, then she didn’t have to wait for him. “But I’ll just catch him later. So, what’s up?”
Tom blinked in surprise. “Uh… I… Not much really. Was gonna head back to my dorm. Ya know, normal stuff I guess.”
“Well c’mon, I’m headed that way myself, I’ll walk with ya.”
Tom brightened as someone whistled from behind. “Damn! Kid’s got moves!” Anthony’s voice called out loudly. He jogged a few steps to join the couple, “Yo, Y/N, what about Seb?”
Y/N looked over her shoulder at Sebastian who still wasn’t even looking her way. “What about him?”
~~~
She mumbled airplane sounds under her breath, twisting her wrist to make the paper airplane fly around, before she really sent it flying across the living room. She watched as it glided through the air before nose-diving into the carpet as the front door opened.
“Apology food?” Sebastian asked with a hopeful smile, holding up a bag of takeout as he kicked the door shut.
“And what’s the apology for?” she asked, rising to her feet and crossing her arms.
“For being a dick after practice.”
“Chinese?”
“Your favorite,” he said, handing her the bag.
“Fine. Your transgressions against the crown are forgiven. This time.”
He tilted his head back as he laughed. “Thank you, your Highness. Although a little birdie told me that you ended up alright. Holland, huh?”
“Mackie is worse than girls with gossip, I swear…” Y/N said with an eye roll. “But yeah, Holland and I talked.”
“You know he’s a freshman, right?”
“Aw, is somebody jealous?” She flashed him a sardonic smile as they both plopped down on the couch and dug into the food.
Sebastian let out a scoff. “Me? Jealous of Holland? Pfft, yeah right.” Yes, insanely jealous, actually.
“Oh, so if I said he walked me all the way to the apartment, that wouldn’t make you mad?”
“You’re not my girlfriend, Y/N,” he said around a swallow of food. Despite how much I wish you were. “If you wanna make baby Holland feel like a man for escorting you home, I really don’t give a shit. But you can do better than a freshman.” Like me.
Like you? “And you’d smell better with a shower,” was her retort as she knocked her shoulder into his.
“Mmm, you gonna join me?”
“Pfft! In your dreams, maybe.” And in mine.
Only in my dreams cuz once again, I fucked up.
~~~
Y/N figured one date would be enough to stir Sebastian into action. But one, the man had already made himself scarce by the time she left for her date. And two, the date sucked.
You’re not Sebastian was all she could think about throughout the dinner of cheesy one-liners, and bad jokes that bordered on offensive.
“So…” he asked suggestively as they walked out. “Wanna head back to my place?”
“No, I’m kinda tired,” she declined politely.
“Oh… well then I’ll call you sometime and we can do this again, maybe?”
“Yeah… no,” she said, shaking her head. “This was… nice. But no. You and I? Not gonna happen.”
“Right… I forgot you’re friends with Stan.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Oh, c’mon. Dude obviously likes you. And he’s not the one anyone wants to have on their bad side.”
“Then why did you ask me out? If all of you are so scared of Seb?”
“Cuz you’re hot, and I’m not on the baseball team,” he shrugged.
“Yeah… I’m gonna go home now. And you… ugh… yeah, no. Not gonna happen.”
~~~
Sebastian turned his head as the door opened. “Back before curfew, huh? Whatta gentleman.”
“Fuck you,” she told him with a roll of her eyes before stalking off towards her bedroom.
“Whoa, whoa, wait,” he said, bolting up off the couch. “C’mon, what happened?”
He wasn’t you. “He’s a pig. Said all the wrong things.”
“That sucks. But hey, can’t all be winners, right?”
“I guess… Although he did say one thing that was somewhat interesting.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. Apparently you scare people off from asking me out.”
He snorted. “That’s fuckin’ stupid. Will I be pissed if some jackoff makes you feel like shit? Yeah, and I’ll probably say something. But shit… I’m not your boyfriend, or your dad, or some shit. Sounds like a lame cop-out because they just don’t wanna admit they’re pussies.”
And what’s your lame cop-out? “Ugh… I need a drink.”
“Grab me one, yeah?” he asked, sinking back down into the couch as she changed directions to head into the kitchen instead.
“So, how was your night?” she asked, grabbing two beers from the fridge.
“Uneventful,” he shrugged. “There was a girl I was hoping to go out with, but it didn’t work.”
“Aw damn. That sucks,” she said, as she joined him on the couch and handed him one of the beers.
“Eh, it was my fault for not asking sooner,” he shrugged again, clinking his beer against hers. “To shitty nights.”
���Here, here,” Y/N cheered half-heartedly as they both took a long drink. “Fuck it. Paper airplane contest?”
He snorted into his beer. “We’re not seven anymore.”
“Aw, afraid you’ll lose?”
He sat up straighter. “Loser buys next case of beer?”
“You better get your wallet out, now.”
~~~
Sebastian knew he should have taken his chance after that first date gone bad. And Y/N knew she should have pushed him harder in her confrontation. But for whatever reason, the friends stayed at their stubborn stalemate.
Without Sebastian willing to make a move, Y/N began to wonder if maybe everyone had it all wrong. Maybe Sebastian was simply protective of her without having an ulterior motive behind it. So, she continued to go on dates with other guys on campus to ease the ache, until she couldn’t pretend they weren’t Sebastian anymore.
For his part, Sebastian not only took careful notes of the reasons Y/N gave for each of her short-lived romances, he also stupidly pointed her in the direction of new interests. And then he tried not to drown in his jealousy, before learning to grow doubtful of wanting a romantic relationship with her at all. Why would he want to sacrifice a lifelong friendship just to become another nameless guy she tossed to the side once she had her fun with him?
~~~
“Sebastian!” she gasped at him when he came home one night as she nursed away the end of yet another short-lived romance that wasn’t him.
“You’re drunk,” was the observation as he dropped his duffle bag to the floor.
“Ooooohhhh yeah,” she giggled at him with a wide grin, eyes hazy. “You gonna join me?”
“So we can both be sick? Yeah… Not a chance.”
“Boo…” she pouted. “You never wanna do anything with me.”
“One night. One night I don’t wanna drink with you, and that equates to me not wanting to do anything with you ever? Make it make sense, Y/N.”
“Well, you don’t wanna date me, that’s for sure,” was the drunk scoff.
He balked. “When did I ever say that?”
“Well it’s true, isn’t it? Everyone keeps saying that you like me, but you don’t do anything about it. Are they all lying? Or are you?”
He shook his head. “I’m not doing this. I’m not having this conversation with you.”
“Why not?!”
“Because you’re drunk off your ass!”
“Just answer the question!”
“I don’t know!”
“What type of bullshit answer is that?! How do you not know if you wanna date someone?!”
“It’s the answer you give when you used to think you wanted to, but now you’re not sure anymore! Now… I gave you my answer. And I already told you once I’m not having this conversation. Not when you’re drunk. I’m going to bed. G’night Y/N.”
“COWARD!” she hurled the insult at his retreating back.
In his room, Sebastian didn’t sleep. He lay in bed watching his ceiling fan spin in slow hypnotic circles, cursing himself for letting it get this bad. If he had just asked her out after that one practice… If he could just rewind the clock…
In the living room, Y/N sobbed into her hands. The distractions never worked, even the promising ones. And Sebastian… If it turned out he didn’t want her…
Thoughts spiraled and time ticked by, Y/N growing more sober, and Sebastian more angry with himself.
“Seb?” she asked in a small whisper, knocking lightly on his door as she pushed it open, finding him still awake in bed, the little lamp on his nightstand illuminating the room.
“What do you want, Y/N?” he asked, more harshly than he meant to, as he pushed himself to sit up against his headboard.
“I- Nevermind… It’s stupid…”
“No, wait,” he called out to her as she turned to leave. “I didn’t mean it like that. I- What’s up? What did you wanna ask?”
She took a slow breath to steady herself as she turned back around to face him. “Do you like me? God, that sounds so juvenile…”
“Of course I like you, Y/N. You’re my best friend.”
“But you don’t like me enough to date me. Just enough to be protective about me dating anyone else.”
He sighed. Now, or never. “It’s not that I don’t wanna date you, Y/N. It’s that I’m scared to.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“To you, maybe. But to me, it’s perfectly valid.”
“How? How is that a valid reason? Sebastian Stan, scared of dating a girl? A girl who he’s known his whole life? Make it make sense.”
“You think I wanna be one of the guys you date? Maybe if you actually dated people, I wouldn’t have ever thought twice about dating you myself. But you don’t date, Y/N. You… God, I dunno what it is you do, but it’s not dating.”
“Fuck you,” she spat, feeling tears well up. “Fuck you! You don’t get to slut-shame me!”
“Slut-shame you?! How is it slut-shaming that I don’t wanna be another number to you?! That I don’t wanna be another source of entertainment for you until you get bored of me?!”
“Because you’re not a number, Sebastian!”
“Bullshit I’m not! You literally call me Number 1! You don’t love Y/N! You… you entertain yourself until someone better comes along!”
“That’s not true…” she whispered, heartbroken that he thought it was.
“It was for all the other guys! I don’t wanna be like them, Y/N! I don’t wanna be some random number to you! I wanna be the one! I don’t know how much clearer I can make that.”
“You know I only dated them to make you jealous, right?”
“Well congrats… you win. I’m insanely jealous of every guy that you parade through that goddamn door.” His mouth twisted and his vision started to swim.
“I didn’t wanna win, Seb. I wanted you.”
He hissed through his teeth. “Past tense… that, uh… Yeah, that hurts. Thanks for that… For this…” he twirled his finger about the room. “Awesome conversation. Glad we could have this talk.”
“You wanna know why it never worked with those guys?!” she yelled at him, her hands flying up in the air. “They weren’t you! God, I tried so hard to make it work with those guys! Any of them! But none of them made me feel the way you do. None of them get me the way you do. And… God! I wish they did! I wish at least one of them did, because then I could finally stop wasting my time on you when it’s obvious you don’t feel the same way about me!”
“I don’t feel the same?!” He grabbed a small notebook, hurling it at her. “If I never felt the same, explain that!” He pulled down the collar of his shirt, pointing at a small tattoo of a paper airplane on his chest “If I never felt the same, explain this!”
“Y-you got a tattoo? When?”
The sudden drop of her voice level took him a moment to realize what she’d asked. “When you started dating the guy with tattoos…” he told her.
“And this?” she asked, bending down to pick up the small notebook he’d thrown at her, thumbing through it. “Blue eyes, tattoos. Text back on time. Don’t say stupid shit,” she read aloud. “A-are these notes on how to date me?”
He shrugged. “I like to think they’re observations.”
“W-why would you need notes on how to date me?”
“To make sure you don’t get bored of me. To make sure you don’t forget me.”
“Seb-”
He shook his head fiercely, feeling his throat close up. “Don’t. Just don’t, okay? I know this is all my fault. I know if I had just stopped being a little bitch, and said something sooner like I wanted to, none of this would be happening right now. But I- Fuck… It’s always been me and you, and I dunno what I’d do if that stopped happening. You’re my best friend. And I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember. And… I can’t risk losing you. I won’t lose you. Even if that means spending the rest of my life jealous of the guys you date.”
“And you never bothered to think that I had the same fears? That I’m just as in love with your stupid ass?”
“Why would you be? I’m just the idiot best friend.”
“Haven’t you been listening? I- God, did you really get a tattoo?” she asked. “What even is it?”
“It’s a paper airplane,” he mumbled, face turning red.
“Can I see it again?” she asked somewhat shyly.
He shrugged, taking off his shirt and tossing it to the side. “Happy now?”
“Oh, Seb,” she giggled, crossing the room to him. “You didn’t have to take your shirt off. You could have just tugged down your collar again.”
“Are you complaining?” he teased lightly, pulling her into his lap.
“God, no,” she said with another giggle. “Oh, Seb,” she sighed, her fingers tracing the ink on his skin. “God, we’re so fuckin’ stupid, aren’t we?”
“Oh, I’m definitely stupid,” he admitted. “Said and done so much stupid shit I shouldn’t have said or done.” His nose nudged against hers, his lips brushing against her cheek when he said, “God, I’m so sorry. I shoulda manned up sooner. And I shouldn’t have said those things about the guys you dated. I just- I fucked up. I let my insecurities get in the way, and I fucked up.”
“I fucked up too, Seb,” she whispered, carding her hands through his hair. “I was trying to fill a you-sized hole when I had you in front of me the whole time.”
“So you still want me? Even after I was the idiot coward that kept fucking up?” The blue eyes were big and watery with small traces of fear as they held her gaze steady, foreheads knocked together.
“Of course I still want you. You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted, Seb.”
__
Tag List
@cxddlyash @stanofalotofthings @philthepegacorn @youngblood199456 @binxiboo @creator-appreciator @felixtok @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @jessalyn-jpeg @lilyoflower @mychemicalimagines @rougese7en @milea @partiesandblurrypolaroids @summerdaughter
84 notes
·
View notes
Text
1. It Was There That I Saw You
He hears it over the radio that first time.
“The Blue Angel is down.”
One of those crummy broadcasting setups that still run out of universities sometimes. Ancient amateur stations he picks up on the road while trying to plot out a route to the family compound around the Others. They announce sightings sometimes, rather like weather reports, or traffic updates. Undead on Highway 11, detour recommended.
The roads are clear that evening, and the drive is as quiet and peaceful as a biodiesel vehicle can manage, except for the news on the radio.
"The Blue Angel is down, and our world grows a little bit colder and darker," the radio man says.
Jaime switches off the receiver. He shakes his head slightly as he drives the ungainly armored car along the winding road, peering into the dusk without headlights. The radio man doesn’t know the Blue Angel. He’s some punk kid, was probably at uni when the Others first attacked and hasn’t ventured outside since. That’s who still broadcasts these days, old student outfits barricaded inside their campuses. This kid doesn’t know the Blue Angel’s name, probably doesn’t even know she's a woman. He will pay him no mind.
But he leaves the radio off for the rest of the journey.
At the Rock he pulls the car into the oversized garage and erects the usual gates and barriers behind him to keep the Others out. These precautions he can do in his sleep now, and he hardly has to think on them. He is more fortunate than most, now - living in a walled compound in a walled city offers a stability most people no longer have, one that would have been unheard of not very long ago. It gives him a more uneventful life, even some creature comforts. It's also, in his opinion, dreadfully boring. Which is why he never stays for long.
His thoughts pivot around the voice on the radio. The Blue Angel. He gave her that name, years ago, before anyone knew her at all. When it was just the two of them on the Kingsroad, and she was hardly more than a kid herself. Does the kid on the radio know that? No, he assuredly does not. The kid on the radio doesn’t know anything.
His brother Tyrion will have heard the news elsewhere. He doesn’t listen to radio, wouldn’t have any reason to since he never leaves the compound. But he has his own sources.
His brother is the second person to tell him, when Jaime walks into the front office loosening his tie. As expected, Tyrion’s still working - it would be either that or reading, even when the house goes dark. Their generator only runs a few hours a day, and his brother keeps right on working by lamplight when the time’s up.
Tyrion has taken over the family business, as well as the mansion and all its high walls. That happened after the rest of the family had been wiped out, while Jaime had been away. Ironic that he had survived them all, considering he had been essentially left to die when the Others came. Like many of the sick and disabled, there had not been much provision for his physical difficulties as a little person and he had been left to fend for himself. Anyone who couldn’t defend themselves was SOL in that first year. How he had even gotten himself home from uni is a bit of a mystery to Jaime. By the time Jaime managed to get himself there, his brother was already gone, and it had taken them a very long time to find one another again.
It had been his brother’s cleverness helped him survive, not his big brother, to both of their disappointment. Said cleverness certainly keeps them in business now.
Tyrion probably hasn’t looked up from his ledgers in hours, but he looks up when Jaime comes in, and keeps looking.
“Blue Angel’s down,” Tyrion mentions casually, but he is watching him closely.
“So they say.” Jaime whirls off his long coat and throws it over a chair. He has to sit right across from Tyrion to get within the circle of lamplight.
His brother’s mind works just a little bit faster than other people’s. The software he runs on is a little bit sharper, and before you can quite get a statement out, he is already replying. He gets bored of the formality of all these extra words and niceties. He doesn’t quite realize how obnoxious this is. As a result, Jaime never needs to say much. Tyrion will have most of the conversation without him.
“You don’t believe them,” Tyrion surmises, pushing his papers aside. An ill-fitting pair of glasses slides down the end of his scarred nose, and he has to catch them before they can fall off. Even Lannisters have troubles with eyewear these days. “I know you think she’s indestructible.”
“Near indestructible.” Insolently, Jaime puts his feet up on his brother’s nice mahogany desk, which used to be their father’s nice mahogany desk. Something about this room makes him act like a rebellious teenager. “It will take more than an amateur disk jockey passing on rumors to convince me.”
“True, rumors have been wrong before. I’ve heard that you were dead too, when you rode the Kingsroad.”
They don’t speak much of that time. Tyrion hated that Jaime abandoned the family to serve as a glorified mailman for five years, as he calls it. Escorting people and messages across the dangerous countryside in the early days of the Disaster might have made his name, and eventually added to the family’s renown, but this personal betrayal his brother has never forgiven. What he really hates, of course, is that Jaime left him alone with their father.
Jaime lets it pass, jokes with him. “I probably started that rumor myself, at least once.”
“Don’t let this distract you,” he says. Tyrion’s mismatched eyes go back to his ledgers meaningfully. “Running Lannisport is enough work, without you running off all the time. We’re trying to bring the Riverlands into the fold. I need you on task, not obsessing over a girl.”
Jaime snorts. Tyrion can hardly lecture him on distractions. Little he may be, he has no trouble acquiring female companionship. He seems to have a different lady on his arm every time Jaime comes around. Sometimes two.
Tyrion rolls his eyes. “Don’t start. My girls are different. I’m not mooning around after them years after they’re gone. When I lose one, I find another. You need another woman, Jaime.”
“With me running off all the time? Who’s going to tolerate that?” Jaime is bored of this conversation already. They’ve had it many times before.
“Romantics. That’s who. You’re off risking your life to join the old nation together again, you’re a dashing hero. Plus the whole Kingsroad adventure. Women love that. You could be swimming in girls if you spared them half a glance. It’s been five years, Jaime.”
“Four,” Jaime corrects him. Four years, three months, and eleven-or-so days.
Tyrion says this more solemnly, looking over his glasses, “If the rumor isn’t true this time, someday it will be.”
He looks very much like their father when he does that, which is unwelcome. Jaime snatches his feet off the desk and wanders away to find something to eat, the big Lannister mansion resounding emptily around him.
He manages to avoid his brother until he can head out again - he rarely passes more than a night at a time in this house. He checks for messages, refills his supplies, gets a proper shower, all of which he can do in a few hours. Such safety he finds oddly uncomfortable, if he lingers too long. He’ll be leaving the next day, and out the door before Tyrion is even out of his bed.
The traveling, on the other hand, takes an age. Not even he travels very fast these days. The armored car, which is more of a delivery truck, doesn’t get over 50kph, and shudders and lurches at the upper end. Real petrol might perk up his engine, but petrol is rare these days, and he can refuel the biodiesel at most settlements now. So he drives slowly and is on the road almost constantly, and stops at Casterly Rock as infrequently as he can manage.
Soon Jaime is hearing the same rumor everywhere, in snatches. He travels through the guarded and gated villages of the Riverlands on a regular circuit, drives through miles of nothing between aettlements, edging around clusters of Others that still live beyond the city lights. As he exchanges goods, messages, and information, he hears of the Blue Angel. Edges of conversation, news bulletins, idle conversation with gasoline sellers. His hosts at Pennytree gossip over it at dinner while passing around the green beans.
Did you hear about the Blue Angel? Damn shame.
Jaime always agrees wordlessly. People still like to feed him, remembering his own time guarding the Kingsroad in the beginning of the new era. He hasn’t been the Slayer in four years, has been a politician-cum-envoy for far longer than he ever battled the Others, but he is far better known still for the former. Arguing with his hosts would be pointless. He just finishes his meal, salvaged canned goods heated over a campfire out back. In those early days, this would have been a feast. It’s still pretty good now. Vegetables are more and more scarce.
No one seems to know exactly what happened. He hears a few variations on it; the tale is different each time. Turned by the Others, haunting the Kingsroad where once she had been its protector. Crushed in the fall of a skyscraper in the Eyrie. Slain in battle protecting a school full of orphans from robbers. The details are in debate, but there is a consistent center. The Blue Angel is dead. It's a rumor still, but one with all the authority of the old King’s Landing Times newspaper, of truth. Everyone is sure.
But they don’t know her. Not like Jaime did. If they knew her they would not believe it so easily. They would need evidence. They would need a body, a grave. Otherwise it's just not realistic that she could be gone. He is not worried. He’s not.
Tyrion passes on the same news the next time he’s at the house. No particulars, but the same word from his own channels of information. No one knows how, but the Blue Angel is dead.
Jaime has little patience for it now. Without any details, it’s still only a rumor. A remarkably consistent one, to be sure. But not enough to know for certain. He doesn’t even stop in the office, claiming exhaustion, avoiding conversation.
Tyrion finds him anyway.
“If you really wanted to know, you could ask The Spider.” His brother suggests late one night, startling him awake. “He could give you the whole story.”
Jaime had been dozing in an armchair in his own study, unwilling to go to bed and too tired to stay awake. He rubs at his left eye and yawns. “What time is it? You’re the only person I know who still wears a wristwatch.”
Tyrion looks worried. He stands there a long time waiting for him to answer.
“I don’t want to know,” Jaime mumbles sleepily. “Really I don’t.”
“Try to get some sleep, Jaime.”
In the bathroom mirror he has a few more gray hairs than before, visible even in candlelight. Before long there will be more gray than blond. He pulls them out one at a time.
It’s too bad he can’t pluck the laugh lines away from his eyes the same way. He hasn’t laughed in a long time now. They feel unearned.
Everywhere he goes for a week solid, it's a funeral. Holly branches along the road, and stray, somehow-preserved flowers. Bars full of black coated mourners, drinking morosely.
It irritates him. Makes him grind his teeth. He shouldn’t resent these people. He knows it’s irrational to feel this way. But what do they know? How dare they mourn? What have they lost? A legend, a leader, a hero? They don’t know the woman behind the stories. She is so much more than that.
For some reason it is the graffiti that finally gets to him. Seeing it written gives it permanence. Someone felt the need to document this, on a building, for all to see. First in an alley in Riverrun - written in an electric blue that seems to float over the dull brick of the building. “Blue Angel RIP,” it says, and it sears into Jaime’s vision. He sees it every time he closes his eyes.
Before long the makeshift walls around Raventree are covered in mismatched sprays of blue, the neat and professional swoops of seasoned graffiti artists alongside the amateur efforts of random passers by, all offering their tributes. At the center of them all is a portrait, as detailed as an oil painting rendered in spray paint, of the Blue Angel’s long cloaked form standing over smaller figures in protection. She’s holding her favorite weapon, a solid titanium baseball bat.
He stares at this portrait for a long time. It’s very good. She must have passed this way at some point. You can’t see her face, but she mostly keeps it covered anyway. This artist captures the way she stands, the gesture of her long, elegant fingers. This artist saw her, at least once, for certain.
It’s so strange. All of these people feel like they know her, that she belongs to them. And it’s true in a way. The Blue Angel belongs to everyone, she really does. But Brienne... Brienne belongs to a very few, if anyone, and if anyone then he is certainly one of them. And he knows she cannot possibly be dead. He knows it.
He stares at the graffiti portrait until his vision blurs and he can’t see anything anymore.
Jaime cuts off the rest of his circuit after that. Drives back to the Rock, as slowly and deliberately as ever, always watching for Others that he could be leading to the compound. In the house he stays only an hour. Packs a small bag and leaves the keys to the car on Tyrion’s desk, along with all his dossiers on the Riverlands, and his appointment book.
Then he takes out his motorbike and drives it across the Riverlands, wastes precious petrol cruising the old highways dodging the snarls of abandoned cars. Tries to outrun the news. The wind blasts through him like a cold knife. He uses up one of his few remaining chargeables to get an mp3 player playing again, painfully loud, the heaviest music he can find. Hailstorms of guitar riffs assaulting him through the earpiece. He rides until his face is numb from wind and his nerves are rattled and brittle.
The Spider’s lair moves between rest stops these days. King’s Landing is still too dangerous, overrun with Others, and he likes to be off the map. Jaime checks a dozen highway offramps before he comes across the black RVs he is looking for.
He leaves the bike some distance away, as is the custom. The sound of a motorbike will bring Others running from miles away, and it’s impolite to lead zombies to people’s front door. Jaime walks the last mile in darkness, quiet as he can. He should have brought more weapons than a single pistol. He didn’t really think this through. But if the Others came to investigate the bike, he does not encounter them walking south, and before long the pavement opens out into a runaway truck ramp and a parking lot, and he can feel eyes on him from the line of trees beyond.
The Spider’s gang greets him with guns cocking, friendly as always. Black leather gargoyles. When they emerge from the shadows into the moonlight, Jaime puts his hands up and drops down to his knees. He waits for them to decide whether he can approach or if he has to move on and try again another night. He doesn’t hear them talking, but they communicate somehow, silently. He’s determined, over the years, that they use some kind of hand signals, but he’s never caught them doing it.
The mobile home is painted black, and it’s almost invisible in the night. The Spider doesn’t take visitors in the daytime. The gun at his back pokes him directly up to the door.
On the inside, the trailer is flooded with fluorescent lighting of the kind rarely seen anymore. After years of lanterns and lamps, it looks otherworldly. Dreamlike. The Spider, in his silk robe, seems to gleam in the artificial light, reclining on his cushion-covered couch.
“Slayer,” he says mildly, gestures for Jaime to sit in a chair opposite him. “It’s been some time. What brings you to--”
“If you know anything,” Jaime tells him flatly, staying where he is just inside the door, “you know why I am here.”
Varys looks at him with cool, calculating assessment. His bald head shines thoughtfully.
“I do. But do sit down, you’re upsetting my birds.” In their cages all around the room, crows shudder and caw. Their black eyes stare unblinkingly at the intruder. The bald little man gestures again to a cushioned seat welded into the trailer.
Jaime acquiesces only enough to take a few steps further into the trailer, standing over the Spider’s chaise lounge. Varys shrugs him off, not remotely threatened. He smiles up from his comfortable position as though it’s a deck chair at a beach, and Jaime is there to take his drinks order.
“That is a fine prosthetic you have there. I would never have known, if I didn’t know everything. The color is perfect, just perfect. Which one is it, right or left?"
The Spider doesn’t really expect him to answer. He knows that Jaime has kept a tight lid on that detail, so far. There are certainly people out there in the world who know for certain, and he will surely find out eventually, but the Spider has not gotten any of them to talk just yet. He will fish for the information just the same. It’s a reflex, at this point.
"Where in the world did you get it? I didn’t think they made things like this anymore, not to custom. But you’re a wealthy man again, aren’t you? Even after Armageddon, Lannisters stay rich.” The spider shows a sliver of teeth. “You would think that money and influence would mean nothing in the new world, but it isn’t so. We simply deal in different currencies now. Your brother realized that faster than most. Clever man.”
Jaime remains standing.
The Spider’s fingers drum his seat warily. “I, of course, recall how you helped me to escape King’s Landing. Have you come to call in this debt?”
“Is she dead?” He spits out the words like he will not taste their poison if he is rid of them quickly enough.
Varys hesitates. Just for a moment, but it is enough to make Jaime blanch well ahead of his answer.
“Yes. Without a doubt.”
Jaime’s throat tightens around the word. “How?”
“How else? The Others.”
Jaime takes one more breath, and chokes on it. He can’t get any more words out.
He turns and slaps his palms against the door of the trailer so that it bangs open and he is out into the freezing night again, running, past the blurry borders of the rest-stop and into proper forest, and when he cannot run anymore he drops to his hands and knees in the mud and opens his mouth and wails until he has no voice left.
His fists beat into the earth as though he can make it give her back.
When there’s nothing left inside him he gets up. Stumbles unseeing back through the forest. Raw and shaking, he pushes through Varys’ honor guard of former bikers, back into the Spider’s Lair.
Varys has not moved since he left him. He watches Jaime drop down into the chair opposite him as though it were only moments since he gave his terrible answer.
“Would you like to ask for your boon now?” the Spider asks.
“Yes.” Jaime leans forward. “I need weapons.”
***
Let me hold you in my arms dear
And let me melt in the heat of your gaze
And let the clock strike one,
Time and mind go marching on
Let our sense of selves decay
It was there that I saw you
In the heat of a summer's embrace
But as time went on
I wondered what went wrong
I wondered what became of you
“It Was There That I Saw You”, ...And You Will Know Us By The Trail of Dead
70 notes
·
View notes
Text
reckless but honest words
However much TK had thought he’d grown used to his parents’ shit, he’s far from prepared for the next words that come out of his dad’s mouth.
“We’re - that is to say, your mom - well… We’re having a baby.”
ao3 | 2.3k | title from anger by sleeping at last
TK narrows his eyes as he walks into his parents’ house, the trepidation that’s been building throughout the day coming to a peak as he spots them waiting for him on the couch. His dad had texted earlier, specifically requesting he come home tonight instead of going to Carlos’s, and while TK hadn’t exactly had any objections, it had given him a bad feeling.
His suspicions are instantly confirmed when he sees his parents’ unnatural postures, the way they’re smiling at him just a bit too widely. He walks in cautiously, feeling weirdly like he’s heading into a trap, though there’s nothing in the room that would outwardly suggest so.
Just his mom and dad, and how they keep looking between him and each other, like they’re in on some sort of joke that TK’s the butt of.
“What’s going on?” he asks, easing himself into an armchair. They share another glance - giggling, for god’s sake - and clasp hands.
“TK,” his dad starts. “Your mom and I… We’ve got some news.”
TK eyes them warily, his mind instantly flashing to the possibility that his dad’s cancer is back. He dismisses the thought almost immediately - they’re far too happy for it to be that - but he also can’t think of what else it could be. Maybe his mom is moving in permanently? Which… TK wouldn’t be opposed, but he’s not sure how much longer he can cope with their bickering, and he’s barely here half the time.
“Do you want to tell him?” his dad asks, but she shakes her head and waves her hand towards him.
“Go ahead.”
And however much TK had thought he’d grown used to his parents’ shit, he’s far from prepared for the next words that come out of his dad’s mouth.
“We’re - that is to say, your mom - well… We’re having a baby.”
They grin at him, waiting expectantly for…congratulations, TK guesses? A hysterical laugh bubbles up in his chest, and he’s barely able to push it down, clamping his jaw firmly shut until he feels like he’s in control again.
“You… You’re serious,” he says eventually.
“Well, it’s hardly the sort of thing you joke about,” his dad says, laughing a little. His mom swats at him, but they’re both still smiling, both still acting like this isn’t incredibly fucked up.
“How long have you known?”
“A while,” his mom admits. “We weren’t going to keep it, but then we thought about it and we realised that we both want a child. Another one.”
TK barely notices her hastily added-on amendment. He gets what she means - he’s not a child, and hasn’t been in many years. He’s more stuck on the fact that they’re choosing to bring another child into this pressure cooker of a household, and not seeing anything wrong with that.
Even when he’d been a kid, TK had felt like he was being pulled in every direction, constantly caught in the middle of their arguments. The feeling’s eased now he’s an adult, but only because he knows he has places to escape to when it all becomes too much. He hadn’t had that growing up, and this new kid won’t have it either.
Maybe he’s being too unfair on them; maybe they can pull it together after all. But, having borne witness to their behaviour these past few months, TK kind of doubts it. Knowing them, they’ll have decided to keep the kid by way of an argument.
And TK knows it’s far from his decision to make, but he can’t help but question them. “Are you sure you’ve thought this through?” he asks.
Their faces drop, smiles faltering as they look at each other, seemingly having a wordless conversation. His dad nods encouragingly, and his mom turns back to him, reaching across the gap between them to take TK’s hands in her own.
“Honey…” she sighs. “We know the risks, alright? Lord knows we’ve both done enough googling. But I’m healthy, and I know what I need to do to make this pregnancy as safe as possible, and we truly believe we can beat the odds. It’ll be fine, I promise.”
She smiles hesitantly, and TK just gapes, not quite understanding how she’s managed to miss the point this badly.
“That’s not what I… Wow.” He presses his lips together in a firm line, standing up abruptly and dropping his mom’s hands. “Okay.”
He shakes his head and turns to go, but he’s stopped when they also rise, effectively blocking his path.
“Where are you going?” his mom asks, frowning in confusion.
TK feels a twinge of guilt, but he pushes it away. “Carlos’s.”
“Now, hold on a minute there, son,” his dad says. “I thought you could stay here tonight, we could have a meal as a family for once. You’re barely here these days.”
“Wonder why,” he mutters, though clearly not quietly enough judging by the way his dad flinches. TK can’t bring himself to care. “I’m going,” he says, louder this time. “I’ll see you at work.”
He squeezes past them, and makes it to the door before he’s stopped again.
“I thought you’d be happy for us.”
TK freezes, hand on the doorknob. “I am,” he lies through gritted teeth, and he doesn’t need to look to see the disappointment written all over his dad’s face. “Congrats.”
He’s gone before they can get another word in, just barely refraining from slamming the door behind him. His skin itches, his whole body jittery and on edge, and TK briefly laments the fact that he’s in no way dressed for running. He has clothes inside that he could change into, but there’s no way he’s going back in there now. He’ll just have to stick it out until he can get to Carlos’s.
Getting into his car, TK has to resist the urge to hit the steering wheel. But he doesn’t trust his parents enough to think that they aren’t watching him from the window, so he simply starts the ignition, driving away without a backward glance.
*
Carlos is surprised when he walks in, pausing his meal with the fork halfway to his mouth.
“TK,” he says, frowning. “I thought you were staying with your parents tonight.”
“Me too.” TK scowls, tossing his keys into the bowl and making a beeline for the bedroom. He feels bad for ignoring Carlos like that, but he’s worried that if he stops to think, he’ll snap, and Carlos doesn’t deserve that.
Carlos must follow him up the stairs anyway, as when TK looks up from yanking his spare running clothes out of the drawers, he’s standing in the doorway, the picture of concern. He sighs, sitting back on his heels, taking a moment to collect himself.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I just… They asked me over because they had some news, and it sort of threw me. I needed to get out of there.”
Carlos nods in understanding. “Is it your dad? Was there a problem with the cancer, or something?”
“No, nothing like that.”
“That’s good, right?” Carlos is looking at him with those wide, worried eyes of his, and TK feels a little bit of his anger drain away at the sight.
“That part is, yeah,” he allows. “I’m not sure the same can be said for the rest.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
TK hesitates, then rises from the floor, shaking his head. “I will, later,” he promises, “but right now I just need to be alone.”
He quickly changes and grabs his headphones from the night stand, though he stops in his tracks when he catches sight of Carlos’s pained expression.
“Hey,” he says, crossing the room and cupping Carlos’s face in one hand. “I’m not shutting you out, I swear. I need air and some time to think, that’s all. Promise I won’t do anything stupid.”
He smiles and holds his pinky out, and Carlos huffs a brief laugh. He links their pinkies and meets TK’s eyes, searching his face. “I’m holding you to that, Strand.”
TK presses a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll see you later.”
*
He doesn’t know how long he runs for, but by the time he gets back he’s winded, and his thoughts are no less scrambled. The lights in the living room are off when TK walks in, but he can see a soft glow coming from upstairs that lets him know that Carlos is still awake. He’s sitting up in bed, reading, when TK manages to drag himself to the bedroom, having already showered and changed. He holds an arm out in invitation, and TK goes gratefully into the embrace, leaning his head on Carlos’s shoulder.
Carlos absent-mindedly traces circles on TK’s arm with his thumb, a silent comfort that TK relishes in.
“My mom’s pregnant,” he says eventually.
Carlos freezes. “Oh. That’s… Wow.”
TK chuckles humourlessly. “I know.” He sighs. “I feel like I shouldn’t be mad, but I can’t help it. I mean, I knew something was up, they’ve both been acting cagey for ages, but I just… I never thought it would be this.”
“I think you’ll be forgiven for not expecting it,” Carlos comments drily.
TK hums, fiddling with the sheets. “It’s not just that, though. I’m pissed that they didn’t tell me, sure, but I’m less mad for me, and more for this kid. I know what it’s like to grow up with them, and you’ve seen how terrible the past few months have been. I can’t believe they’re seriously going to put another kid through it all.”
“Maybe they’ll work things out,” Carlos suggests, though even he sounds doubtful.
“I want to believe that. But…”
“But?”
“I don’t think they even noticed it,” he confesses, voice quiet. “I was so alone as a kid, but Mom had her firm and Dad had the firehouse, and I was just...there. I know they loved me, but that doesn’t mean they were great parents, and I don’t think they realise even half of what they did. They’re having this baby because they want the good times back, and they’re forgetting just how many bad times there were.”
Carlos squeezes his shoulders. “Shit, Ty-”
“You know it’s part of the reason I became a firefighter?” TK asks. He should probably feel guilty for interrupting, but it’s like some dam has broken inside of him and it’s all coming spilling out whether he wants it to or not. “I’d see my dad with his crew - with this family he’d built at the firehouse - and I just… I wanted in. I wanted my family back, but I couldn’t have that so I settled for inserting myself into his.
“It sort of worked, I guess. We were close. But he’s never been a father to me, exactly, not in the way I needed. I’m okay with it now, but I’m worried the same is going to happen all over again.”
Carlos waits, but TK’s done this time, gritting his teeth against the emotion welling up in him
“Have you spoken to your dad about any of this?” Carlos asks.
TK scoffs. “I tried. Remember my identity crisis after I got shot? I went to him and told him, but he just turned it on me and started talking about 9/11 again. It’s like, I know how bad it was. I know his whole house was killed, and I know how badly that hurt him. But I was seven, and I lived through it too. It’s not the same, I get that, but I did. I think he forgets that sometimes.”
He groans, slumping down further into the bed - and, by extension, into Carlos. “I sound like a dick, don’t I?”
Carlos is silent for a long time, and when TK looks up at him, he’s worrying his bottom lip, brows creased in a frown.
“I think…” he starts slowly, turning his head to meet TK’s eyes. “I think you’re being perfectly reasonable. Everything you just said… I can’t even imagine, Ty.”
TK stares at him, startled by how firm, how fervent Carlos’s voice is. There’s anger there, too, and it’s strangely comforting to know he’s not alone in his frustrations. Even so, TK feels the need to reassure him.
“Hey,” he murmurs, lightly touching Carlos’s arm. “You know I’m okay, right? I’m over all that.”
Carlos sends him a doubtful look.
“Mostly,” he amends. “Besides, I have you now, and the team. I’m not the one who needs to be worried about.”
“I’ll always worry about you,” Carlos says, but he sighs, relenting. “You should talk to your parents, though. They need to know how you’re feeling, especially if they’re going through with this.”
TK shrugs non-commitantly. “Yeah, maybe. Not like they’ll listen to me.”
Carlos sighs. “TK -”
“Can we not talk about this anymore?” TK interrupts, turning pleading eyes on his boyfriend. He’s tired of thinking about his parents, and he feels more than a little guilty for taking over their evening complaining about them, like he’s done far too many times before. He points to the book lying abandoned at Carlos’s side. “Tell me about that?”
Carlos sends him a look, emphatically letting TK know that he’s not going to let him push this away, but he does eventually pick up the book. “I don’t think it’s something you’ll like,” he warns.
“You like it,” TK says. “That’s enough for me.”
The brilliant smile Carlos sends him is almost enough to make him forget everything else that happened tonight. And when he starts talking, TK closes his eyes and lets Carlos’s beautiful voice wash over him, chasing any other thoughts from his head.
It’s peace, of a kind.
#911 lone star#911 lone star fic#tarlos#tarlos fic#lone star#tk strand#carlos reyes#owen strand#gwyneth morgan#tk x carlos#fanfiction#my fanfiction#writing#my writing#tuserjamie#tuserpaige#userjillian#userkimmy#reyeslonestartag#tuserjenny#yes this is just a 2.3k vent fic why do you ask
227 notes
·
View notes
Text
Let’s Talk: Jimin’s & Tae’s confessions (RUN Episode 141)
by Admin 1
Originally, I planned on writing a summary or vmin cut of the RUN episode but then I transcribed Jimin’s and Tae’s confessions and it got me thinking, and now here we are. Instead of a summary here are some of my musings and thoughts about their confessions and how they are right in line with things they’ve said in the past, and even quite recently, as well as how it fits with something Namjoon said in 2020 about them as well. I hope this will at least be somewhat interesting.
So, first, let’s look at Jimin’s confession, since this is longer and was first in the episode:
Jimin’s Confession
Jimin: Sometimes I am blunt. I’m like that at times.
Na PD: Taehyung, has Jimin ever said anything bluntly to you?
Tae: Nowadays, he's really putting in effort to fix that to the point where it rarely happens anymore. Jimin tends to be very hard on himself, which also broke our hearts to see.
Na PD: So, he gets stressed from himself, then gets mad at himself...
Tae: Then gets mad at himself.
Na PD: ...and then he blurts remarks.
(here it was a bit unclear (for me at least) which of the two said which line so I’m sorry if I mixed them up)
Jimin: It’s something I want to be forgiven for.
Tae: But Jiminie being blunt and me being blunt is completely different. Jimin has a kind hearted nature on the regular.
Na PD: Right.
Jimin: Are you usually not like that?
Tae: I’m, well...
The other members stop Tae, since it’s not time for his confession, and instead the question is posed by JK if they forgive Jimin to which everyone says yes.
Tae: You’re innately kind at heart. stretches out hand for handshake.
Jimin: Thank you. Jimin thinks (?) Tae might be going for a fist bump since he gives him his fist instead, which Tae still takes and shakes.
The first thing about this that caught my attention, as well as one of our anons, was the fact that instead of choosing literally any of the other members, Na PD turned to Tae and asked him to verify if something like that (as in Jimin being blunt) ever happened toward him. You could say we’re thinking too much here, interpreting too much into it, and yet it doesn’t change the fact that he chose to ask Tae. Of course it could be because he said at the start of the program that he feels closest to Tae since he heard about him from two of his Wooga squad friends, but it might’ve just as well been because he watched the members for a while already at that point (since they’d already been filming a few hours) and perhaps he did notice how Tae and Jimin naturally gravitate toward each other, have this special bond? Other people who worked with them in the past noticed it, so why wouldn’t he?
There’s actually moment where Jimin turns and says Taehyungie like he wants to ask him something or say something to him which isn’t in the subs and the members don’t notice it either so Jimin never got to actually say whatever he wanted to say. Also, we’ve all seen how Tae and Jimin behaved during the game in the previous episode, how happy, smiley and giggly they were while being silly together.
Then the actual confession itself, Jimin saying that he can be blunt at times, toward others but also especially toward himself. We’ve heard many times from Jimin about how much of a perfectionist he is, how he can get mad at himself for mistakes, how he sometimes speaks without thinking which can end up a bit mean/blunt, and now he’d like to be forgiven for it.
This actually reminded me of something he said to Tae before:
FESTA 2020 from 42:56 min onward (context - the question was: have you felt disappointed in or sorry to the member to your right?):
Jimin: For Taehyung I should say if I compare those two feelings to him I was more hurt than sorry. Over time, it was reversed. Now I don’t feel slighted. I’m more sorry about things. Back then we were buddies so we had a lot of disagreements or didn’t admit that we were wrong. So I felt disappointed about little things. Now he listens to me well so I feel sorry that I talked to him harshly and every little thing.
The last line especially sticks out to me. I know there’s some language nuance here that got lost in translation which wisha mentioned when the FESTA 2020 video was posted (but is now gone since her twt was suspended), and yet it doesn’t change that fact that it fits with Jimin’s confession, how he was harsh to Tae in the past but now feels sorry for it, and with what Tae said, that Jimin is now making an effort to fix that behavior, to not be so blunt/harsh anymore.
It’s so interesting to me to see these mentions of what could be seen as character flaws over the years, things that make them inherently human. Also it fits with what we know about the evolution of vmin, how they used to have disagreements, have issues with proper communication but over time worked on it, got better at it to the point where they can now understand each other by just looking into each other’s eyes, and Tae’s words about Jimin, how he’s an angel, the warmest person he ever met, and now how he has a kind hearted nature, therefore the bluntness is not taking away from it in any way.
There was also something about this in Jimin’s solo RollingStone interview which caught my attention:
(btw, if you haven’t yet, I highly recommend reading the main and solo RollingStone interviews because they are really, really good!)
Taehyung’s confession
Tae: Compared to the other members, I’m very lazy. Once I’ve set my mind on something, to get that into action, it takes me up to 2 months. I’m start working out, then quit. I’ve quit projects midway too. I’m the type where if I’m not feeling it, I don’t do it. There are times when I feel sorry to the members.
Someone (I can’t pinpoint the voice): How would be summarize this?
Jimin: You’d usually call this as “irresponsible”. He lacks responsibility,
Tae: I’m still an amateur.
Na PD: “I lack responsibility and am lazy”. Is that how we can understand it?
Tae: Yes.
Jimin: To be honest, we don’t think it’s to that extent, but if that’s what he feels... we forgive him.
Something I love about what Jimin said (in far fewer words than I will use because you know me, I can’t keep myself short) is that he essentially did two things at once, being: he assured Tae (and the viewers) that him and the members think differently, don’t see it as severely as Tae does himself, and then he also acknowledged the validity of Tae’s words, that even if Jimin doesn’t agree with him, Jimin knows that those feelings are still valid, that that’s what Tae feels and that, at the end of the day, even if the members don’t agree, they can’t change Tae’s mind, can’t force him into seeing things differently. The only person who can do that is Tae himself, and that’s okay. Jimin and the other members will still quietly support and reassure him when needed until he’ll “fix” this weakness, if that is something he wants to do.
This really shows how in tune with Tae Jimin is, but also how emotionally intelligent he is. Beautiful. Also, notice how Jimin said that without being asked to do so, which will come into play again a little later in this post and why I point it out specifically again.
Listening (or rather reading along) as Tae said that, it reminded me of something he said a few months ago:
Taehyung BE-hind Story Interview from 5:49 min onward:
Q: How do you cope when it’s hard to work/with these situations?
Tae: I’m very true to my emotions so uh...if I can’t write the songs or can’t come up with a title I just don’t. Like now!
Yoongi: That’s actually the best way.
Tae: I just don’t write it like how I’m doing it now, and I don’t want to be pressured to create something against my will.
Yoongi: It’s not like you have to finish a song within a day or two?
Tae: Right! So I’ve been taking some rest for about four months now. Now that I’m resting for four months...
Yoongi: Wasn’t your mixtape supposed to be out last year?
Tae: The mixtape that was supposed to happen last year was postponed. I should be in a state full of emotions right now, but I haven’t reached it yet. It’s like...my first mixtape so I want to feel that satisfaction when I release it whenever that time will be.
Yoongi: That’s why you have to finish the whole thing while you’re at it...
Tae: Yes.
Yoongi: ...or else it takes too long to finish it. So, you have to finish it within that period.
Tae: Right.
Yoongi: I’m guessing you might’ve missed the time.
The thing though is that what Tae said, that if he doesn’t feel it, he won’t do it/finish it, that just shows how much of an artist he is, how much his art truly matters to him, and how important it is to him that his art, in this case his music, turns out just the way he wants it to or else he won’t finish it or release it. And while Tae might call this “irresponsible”, I don’t think it’s that in this case, or that it’s a sign of laziness either, though just like Jimin, I don’t want to invalidate his feelings either. All I want to bring across is how in the context of his music, this isn’t a weakness or flaw, even if it might seem like it, especially in their line of work with deadlines, schedules and plans made weeks and months in advance where, usually, you can’t just take a four month break.
So, in that regard, I can understand how it can feel like a flaw to him, make him feel guilty about it and sorry to the members who in this case might rely on him to get something done on time and he might not do it, or not without forcing himself to do it or being dissatisfied, you know what I mean?
Earlier today Tae was on weverse and answered a few questions about his mixtape (though I have a feeling it really is time for ARMY to stop asking him about it and just let him breath) where he said that even though he got a song from someone and made ten himself, even with that break he took according to his BE interview, the songs just aren’t what he wanted them to be and thus he decided to start again.
Some could say it’s again a case of him being irresponsible the way he characterized it during the RUN episode, that even though he said last year he was almost done and would release it soon it ended up being postponed and now he started over again, but once again I think it just shows how very important his music is to him, and therefore I’d actually call it a strength. It shows how valuable his artistic expression is to him, to create music the way he wants to, at his own pace, and only release it once he feels it’s right.
One more thing, just like I said in the intro of this post, Jimin and Tae jumping in to assure the other, reminded me of something Namjoon said during his Map of the Soul : 7 vlive last year:
The context is a little different, but I think it’s still valid here as well, how Tae and Jimin made excuses for each other, how Tae immediately softened how harsh Jimin’s own words about himself might come across, assured both us and Jimin that really he has a kind heart despite this weakness, and then also Jimin by saying that things aren’t as bad as Tae makes them seem either. It’s interesting to really see something play out in a manner similar to what another member said about them based on having been with Jimin and Tae for the last nearly ten years.
Whoever claims that BTS just play out concepts or “plots” and characters given to them by the company really should just take a seat and stop. I mean, sure they all have a sort of persona they embody in front of the camera, at least to a certain degree, they’ve spoken about that numerous times, but they are still humans with flaws and their own dynamics between each other away from the cameras which, logically, also come across on camera as well, not always but enough for us to pick up on it. And in this case, with these confessions during RUN, we saw something that we previously only really heard about happen right in front of us proving (not that they have to prove anything to us, of course, we should simply trust them and what they tell us) that it really is that way.
Here’s the anon I mentioned earlier:
From anon: It might just be me lol but I think rather than Jimin forgetting he's being filmed for a show (with all those members of staff as onlookers as well) and blowing a kiss at Tae / blowing on Tae's chest, he probably just noticed a tiny bit of lint or fluff on Tae's cardigan or mic and decided to blow it off... Of course, if that was the case, that still reveals their high level of intimacy and the fact that even when interacting infront of strangers they seem to be unable to stop showing exactly how tuned into each other they are... I don't think it's a coincidence that Na PD chose to ask Tae, of all the members, to verify Jimin's statement about his flaw. He was probably observing them all day and noticed how particularly close they were, even amongst all the extremely close members.
94 notes
·
View notes