#not romantic at all if that wasnt clear | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hannieehaee · 1 year ago

Note

hii I loved loser!chan fics and I was wondering if you could do loser!jihoon as well? anyway you want works for me I’m just insane over jihoon being all subby and your fics are amazing!!!

18+ / mdi

content: loser!jihoon, virgin!jihoon, sub!jihoon, afab reader, smut, dry humping, handjob penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 2466

a/n: ive always thought of writing loser!jihoon u read my mind lmao i hope i made him loser enough <3

masterlist

jihoon wasnt too much of a social person. it had been like this throughout elementary and all the way too high school, even manifesting up until college. currently, he had his usual group of friends, but he was as still pretty much a very antisocial guy. he liked it this way. it kept things simple.

his lack of socialization, however, also came with a lack of social skills, which in very obvious fashion also meant he lacked experience in social situations; dating included.

his romantic life had been fully nonexistent thus far, making him fall far behind most of his friends, who were all thoroughly experienced in one way or another.

it's not like jihoon didnt have any interest in that area of his life. it was just that he was too shy. a bit of a loser too, to be honest. this was a trait of his that he had wanted to finally rid himself of, which wad how he ended up attending one of his good friend's mingyu's many frat parties.

this wasnt his usual scene. he had been invited to these gatherings multiple times, but always turned them down, knowing he could never keep up with his popular friends (not that he wanted to anyway; as he said, this was just not his scene). however, something his friend mingyu had said about a week back had caught his attention, making him insist that mingyu let him tag along this once.

he had been in the cafeteria at the time, looking across the room as he usually did while his friends engaged in conversation. he was the only member of the friend group who was not a member of the frat, so it was easy for him to blend in the background most times. this time, however, mingyu had caught sight of what was keeping jihoon so distracted. this had just gotten interesting.

it was you.

by some strike of luck, it turned out that mingyu knew who you were. you were a frequent attendee to his frat parties. he knew you pretty well, actually. had spoken to you a few times, and coincidentally knew you had a bit of a thing for his friend jihoon – at least that's what he gathered from your occasional inquiries as to where he was any time he'd be absent from mingyu's parties. mingyu had never attempted to hook you guys up before, but he had decided in that same moment that he liked you for jihoon, which only meant one thing; he had to play matchmaker.

considering jihoon's clear interest in you as he stared and stared while sighing at the pretty sight, mingyu felt very justified in not-so casually dropping the fact that you were usually in attendance to his parties, meaning that you'd very likely be at his following party. this caught jihoon's attention immediately, who tried to nonchalantly make some excuse as to why he'd wanna be in attendance this time around. mingyu considered it a mission accomplished and simply awaited the fateful day of the party.

at the party itself, mingyu immediately got to work, making sure jihoon remained alone and in close proximity to your location – also letting you know that jihoon was wandering somewhere in the frat house, taking note of your smile as he relayed that piece of information to you. as soon as he located the two of you and deemed the situation manageable for jihoon, he went his own way to party with his friends. he had a hunch that it'd work out on its own. he had seen you sneak a few glances at his friend tonight already, which gave him all the confidence to leave the two of you to eventually interact.

it didn't take long for the two of you to bump into each other at some lone corner of the frat (it's not like jihoon had been keeping track of your movements and making a calculated effort to incidentally bump into you in a not-so casual way). upon crossing paths, you immediately engaged in conversation, rendering jihoon slightly speechless at your friendly disposition.

although he had a hard time keeping up with your outgoing personality, – barely being able to mutter full responses as his eyes avoided yours at all costs – you seemed interested enough to suggest the two of you move onto a quieter part of the house in order to have a better chance at understanding each other.

that remote location manifested itself as mingyu's room, which had conveniently been left open for jihoon to access (something gyu had made sure to let jihoon know about, "in case he grew tired or something").

for some reason, sitting on the edge of the bed by your side as a booming party occurred downstairs felt a bit too intimate for jihoon, someone who was not used to any sort of interaction with women of any kind, much less the girl he'd been secretly crushing on for months. you seemed relaxed, though, simply maintaining sporadic conversation as the two of you enjoyed the muffled music coming from downstairs.

at some point you seemed to sense his unnerved state, deciding to call attention to it.

"parties not your thing?"

"oh, uh .. yeah. just not used to the environment , i guess."

"this is my first time seeing you at one of these. what changed?"

"h– how'd you know it's my first time?"

"i wouldve noticed you before."

oh. oh.

"why do you think i brought you in here, jihoon?"

"you know ... you know my name?"

you had scoot closer now, sitting side by side with your legs gracing against his, which were stuck together as he made himself as small as possible.

"of course i do. i've been keeping tabs on you jihoon."

he felt himself shiver at your proximity, despite the fact that everything was still very much friendly and platonic. but he couldnt help himself in feeling shy at the implications of being alone with you whilst sitting closely to each other on the bed.

"o- oh."

"jihoon? why wont you look at me? are you okay?", you took your hand and placed it under his chin, making sure he was now facing you.

your face was far too close to his, and the expression you carried was not one of worry, but one of want.

"n- no, i mean, yes. it's just–"

"just what, jihoonie?", you tilted your head, somehow coming into even closer proximity to his lips.

he gave up the clueless act first, being unable to control himself in his need for you.

"please ... just– please."

that was enough for you to close the gap, sighing softly against his lips as he froze, unknowing in what to do. his arms also remained on his sides as his posture stayed rigid. luckily for him, you didn't mind his temporary inactivity, simply urging him with your own hands and lips to take some action.

these notions were enough for him to nervously begin to kiss you back, copying all your movements as he opened his mouth to allow yours in. his hands were also now awkwardly resting on the small of your back as he leaned a bit towards you. it was all very awkward on his part, but he was truly having the time of his life as you made love to his mouth.

your kiss had quickly grown filthy, making jihoon's eyes roll back as he attempted to keep up. you only kissed him like this for a short while before pulling away breathless, inquiring for more.

"can i? will you let me take charge, jihoonie?", you said in a hot breath against his lips, eyes still glued to his pout.

"i– ive never ..."

"that's okay ... i'll show you, jihoon. ill make you feel good. i can ... i cant teach you."

he wasnt sure if you'd meant to sound like a siren's song when you said this but the effect was just the same, because he found himself breathlessly nodding in agreement, allowing you to lay him down as you straddled him on the bed.

just moments later and you were already starting a slow and sensual grind against his hips as you made a show of arching your back and throwing your head back at what was likely just minimal pleasure for you. for jihoon, however, it was the most action he'd ever gotten. he always assumed that his first act of intimacy with a girl would be a quick peck, not the girl of his dreams dry humping him on his friend's bed.

he took a leap by putting his hands on your hips, unable to control his moans and the way his hips pushed upwards a bit to match yours. this seemingly caught your attention, causing you to make eye contact with him once more before leaning down and connecting your lips.

once again, he was unable to help himself in kissing you back, although sloppy and inexperienced, he enjoyed your kiss all the same, nearly losing his mind at your ability to turn such a sweet act into one of pure desperation so quickly.

"always wanted you, jihoon ...", you breathed against his lips, "knew you were friends with gyu, so i kept coming here hoping to see you, but you never showed up. made me wait so long for you ..", you pouted.

"i– i didnt know. i wanted you too, i swear ..."

you gave him a sweet smile, caressing his cheek softly as your hips slowed down for a moment, "i know, hoonie ... which is why you're gonna be good for me, right, baby?"

"y– yes. i– anything. ill do anything you want, just–", he was interrupted with yet another kiss; a kiss which he instinctively gave back without even having to process it.

"anything? oh, jihoonie ... gonna have so much fun with you."

his confirmation had been enough for you to take further action. jihoon wasn't sure how it ended up happening, but eventually you had managed to undress the two of you, now sitting in the exact same position as before, – you on top of him as he laid back on the bed – except this time fully nude.

from the moment you'd thrown off your shirt, jihoon had been unable to stop staring at your tits. he didnt wanna sound like a total creep or anything, but he wouldve given anything to bury his head in them and never come back. luckily for him, you seemed to read his mind pretty well (re: took a hint from his endless staring and licking of his lips) and leaned down, enticing him to kiss your tits by bringing his face close to them.

with a quick nod in confirmation, jihoon went to town on your tits. he didnt know he had it in him, but his lips and tongue explored every inch of your breasts, breathing against them at how supple they felt under his touch. he drank in every single sigh you let out at the feeling, with his arousal growing to an extent he didn't know was possible.

"oh, hoonie ... fuck ... such a good boy. play with my tits, shit ..."

your hands eventually reached out to play with his dick, which he had been neglecting thus far. his actions halted upon the feeling of your warm hands encompassing him, jerking him in a way that had his kisses against your chest becoming even more sensual in nature as he moaned into your breasts.

"you– oh ... that's .... please ...."

"like it, baby? want me to keep playing with your dick?"

"yes, fuck. please! want–"

"but, baby ... dont you want my cunt?"

that statement took him to another planet altogether.

your cunt? you were going to fuck him? oh. oh.

the simple thought of you wrapping around him, bouncing up and down as he lost his mind under you almost had him cumming. the best he could do in that moment was lift his head from your chest and beg you to please let him have it as he kissed your lips.

you took advantage of his begging to lick his lips, teasing his tongue with your own as you positioned yourself to lower yourself on him. jihoon was sure you could feel his heartbeat almost beat straight out of his chest as you pressed your hand against his chest for support, but he didnt care. he wanted you to know how carnally he wanted you.

"this is your first time, right, baby?"

"yes, b– but its okay! i want it, i swear!"

"oh, i know, pretty ... just wanted to make sure. gonna make you mine after this. you know that, right?", you leaned down to kiss his neck as you said this, making him shiver at the thought, "gonna be my pretty little jihoon that only i get to have ..."

"yes ... yours, just– wanna be yours, please ..."

that was all you needed to finally sink down on him, moaning out at the feeling. similarly, he arched his back against the mattress at the warmth and tightness he felt around his cock; a pleasure he never knew was humanly possible.

you rode him like a champ, wasting no time in speeding up and he himself lost his mind. he couldnt help it when his hips began to cant up against yours, loving the way you threw your head back at the impact. at some point all rhythm between the two of you was lost, making you hump against each other like you were in heat.

"hoonie! gonna cum, please ... cum with me, pretty. wanna feel you cum."

"gonna cum for you ... feel so fucking good ...", he whined at you, knowing his end was right there.

the two of you cried out and held each other through your respective ends. his came slightly before yours, making him wince at the overstimulation as you tightened up around him after he had fully ridden his high. but the feeling was extremely pleasurable nonetheless.

laying down next to him, you cuddled up against his side, giving his chest a sweet peck before gesturing at him to look at you.

he felt shy making eye contact, but felt less so than before. he felt such a strong connection with you at this moment, smiling at knowing that you liked him back (at least going off on your rambles as you fucked him).

"i like you. so much," he interrupted whatever you were about to say, not even realizing his words until after he'd uttered them.

you chuckled at his widened eyes upon realizing what he'd said, "i know, hoonie. i like you too."

you stayed quiet after that, choosing to fall asleep in his arms as he held you against him. he wasnt sure what exactly came next, but he was content in that moment.

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sheepispink · 1 month ago

Text

A LIGHT THAT NEVER GOES OUT

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Masterlist AO3

pairings: Simon Ghost Riley/ Reader (platonic or romantic, up to you)

tags: probably loads of military inaccuracies, anxiety attacks (possibly?), heavy angst, angst and comfort, paranoia, bad mental health, cuddling and literal sleeping together (up to you romantic or platonic)

A/N: I’d appreciate if no one complained abt the accuract/realistic of the story (ofc if its the characterisation of ghost that’s perfectly ok!) i’m open for criticisation for how i write etc etc but this is a sensitive topic and.. based off personal experiences 😅😅 so it’s very realistic to me even if its not to you!

This technically takes place after this fic but it’s not a big deal in which the order you read it

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You’re an introvert, even if you do get excited really quickly, loud around people you’ve known for a while and love meeting new people. Yet still, you call yourself an introvert, even if that technically still makes you an extroverted introvert. You don't like the sound of an extrovert— someone who thrives off of others' attention and loves to be the center of it, who brightens their days with their friends and always wants to make plans with anyone and everyone. You like the attention sometimes; when Price mentions your name in a conversation, praising your skills, your heart thumps a little louder. Being at the limelight of the party isn't always the worst thing either, especially when everyone laughs at your jokes so hard they double over, grinning so wide you can't help it either. You love your friends, your teammates, even the random soldiers you’ve only exchanged small greetings with. The love for others is held tight in your heart’s vessels, bursting each and every time they make you smile or you just see their presence. You feel so warm and alive when you give them a grin in the mornings, even more so when they seek out your presence throughout the day.

Though, that only applies sometimes— never always.

A familiar soldier could ask you out to lunch and yet your chest begins to twist uncomfortably, like someone is wringing your intestines with their hands. Something screams at you when they say those words, like an invisible line had just been crossed that had been clear in everyone's heads. You had only ever spoken to those soldiers in the gym or around base, there was nowhere else even remotely personal you’d think to take them to. One on one conversations were not common either, since it wasnt that often. It’s not that you don't like them, it’s just.. not right. You’d shake your head apologetically as you force an excuse between your teeth. The regret you then express is a lie, along with the love you felt before— only reduced to a being who could never hold any of those things.

The truth is, you have a sick little parasite in you, it claws at that heart muscle, tearing away the flesh and devouring any love you feel for the people you care about and replacing it with an empty feeling which is always followed by an unreasonable hatred. Your mind grows dark, headaches permanent, as you live through the day as a skeleton of yourself— no longer able to hold any love within you as it slips past your bones in seconds. You don't like the boundaries you’ve mentally set for each person to be crossed, even if it’s a perfectly normal task. In fact, some may even say you’re scared of change. You don’t like to put a label on these things, hell you don't even like to think too hard on these things. It begins to make sense when you sit and reflect, piecing all the reasons for your behaviour together until you hit the final point. Soon you’re done, finally aware of the most significant reasoning behind your antics. The only issue is, being self aware doesn't mean you get any better; no matter how many nights you sit and stare at that mirror, nothing changes.

The only thing you gained was the ability to squash down the parasite from prying eyes. Excuses fall from your lips quickly, no matter how bad you feel when they give you that look of disappointment. It’s not your fault— you know you won't be able to handle an outing like that, you’d get too worked up. Why? You don't need to dwell on it, not right now. This continues for multiple people, multiple soldiers for two weeks, until you're ‘normal’ and you hang around others again. People begin to subconsciously catch on and so your little routine continues to carry on moving so well, staying right on track.

“Sarge? You aint comin’ to team night? Why?”

Ghost stands at the door of your quarters, dressed in his typical training attire whilst you’re sitting in something cozy, made for home wear. You have to fight the urge to cover yourself up. “Oh right.. i, uh..yknow, lot of paperwork to do. Thought i’d stay in.”

You say with a small smile, attempting to ease any concerns he had before but little did you know, he was already growing aware of your little issue, or at least the fact there was one within you. “Paperwork? On a Friday? You should be relaxin’.” You grit your teeth a little, the burning urge inside of your chest returning just like the sick pit in your stomach. It felt so awful fearing just a simple team night out, but it was just so late and you were so tired— you didnt have the energy to be rational the whole time, to think of your next move constantly.

“It’s not a big deal. I’ll come to the next one.” You shrug, turning back to your small desk as you pull another small stack of papers in front of you. His boots thump loudly against the floorboards, sounding like the heavy thump of your heart in your ears. It stops, suddenly, behind your back and your body stiffens as he leans down, looking at the paperwork you’re going through. It’s a lie— naturally, you finished it all. He doesn't even have to stare at you first nor visibly raise a brow; you’re already waiting for him to call out your bluff just as quickly.

“You can just say you want some time alone, yknow.” That catches you off guard, half expecting him to just tell you to stop whining and grab some drinks. His words were still difficult though, how could you easily just say that? Of course, the words itself aren't the hard part, nor speaking it—it’s the implications behind said words. An excuse means you have other things to occupy you, so no one dares to disturb you much after that, however explaining you want some alone time gives way to more questions. Specifically the first being: why? Then they begin to wonder if you’ve been doing okay recently or if you’re struggling with something. You dont like the idea of that at all— people thinking about you in that way. It feels weird, almost like it’s wrong. Sometimes you wished people would just not care, and leave you alone to wallow with yourself.

“Sarge?” You snap out of it, sheepishly scratching the back of your head as he still stands behind you and you turn in your chair, putting the best meek face you can on for the night. “What? No, that’s not why I declined. I’m not really feeling any alcohol today and a new episode of a series I previously binged on the weekend just came out. Sorry.. didn't want to make it seem i was ditching anyone for a show.” Perfect, an awkward grin had tied it all off into a well constructed excuse. Even if it was partially true and this really wasn't fake, it sure felt like everything you did was an act. After all, you really didn't want them to think you were ditching anyone, and you didn't feel like having any alcohol tonight. “A new series” He says gruffly, and you nod with a tight smile, teeth gritting so hard you’re sure they’ll break in a few seconds. “I’ll join you then.”

You blink once, twice, three times in pure utter confusion. Ghost—The Ghost, whose name is rumoured across the battlefield and known for never giving into idle small talk—wants to watch the series you lied about, with you.

You’ve never felt more guilty in your entire life, practically fumbling for a solution. You could just tell the truth, say no and admit you needed to be alone. But this is the first time he’s ever expressed wanting to hang around you, actually together and alone— and miss out on a team night?! He may just want an excuse out of it, but still, you can't just say no now. “Well yeah, i just..” You hate how there’s no easy way out of this in the slightest, torn between saving your own mental health or finally getting close to the teammate who you’ve been on eggshells around for nearly a year now. “My room’s not exactly clean--“

He cuts you off with a gruff, shake of his head, a scoff resounding in his next words, promptly embarrassing you too. “There ya go— knew you wanted to be alone.”

You fumble, not understanding how he managed to pry it out of you so fast, just a simple lie blowing your cover. “I said it wasn't like-“

“See you tomorrow.” He’s gone just as fast as he silenced you, heavy footsteps disappearing out of your door and down the corridors. What you couldn't wrap your head around is how fast he had figured it out and made you confess to your lies that fast— it was a real problem, something you couldn't just let slide. If he knew, did others too?

Unfortunately for you, the very much needed alone time didn’t help as well as it usually did considering this new information has threatened everything that made up the core of your very being—specifically everything keeping you glued together. You just couldn't sit there and possibly relax like you usually did when alone (more specifically think over everything you’ve done wrong until you quite literally fell asleep mid thought)— not when Ghost could clearly read everything you had ever thought about in your life.

That being said, you’ve been a nervous wreck all week, concentrating so hard on looking sane that you’ve barely paid a second of attention to things you should’ve listened to. It’s not like you slipped up regularly, but before that day you were already feeling pretty uneasy and now with still no relief and the added stress, you feel like you really might lose it any second now. Every time you see him, every word exchanged with your teammates—with another person—it eats at you, tugging further on the ropes you’re hanging onto. They’re already been pulled thin, especially since you’ve been put in charge of a group of rookies for the past few weeks now. Of course, you had pulled the short straw when assignments went round because not only did your group love to talk back, but they loved to test every limit by asking the most stupid of questions possible. It’s the second time now you’ve had to lecture one of the rookies about why you can’t just ‘throw a grenade at the enemies’. It’s only temporary, just basic training exercises and medical procedures they need to know until the Officer, who usually oversees them, returns from their sick leave.

You let out a long breath as you enter the small break room, also known as taskforce 141’s meeting room but they’ve let you lounge in here too many times to count. It’s quiet in here, Soap and Gaz both on missions and you assume Ghost must be too. It’s the first time you’ve been able to relax all week, knowing damn well Price is down in London with Gaz. Your shoulders sag, the miserable look returning to cover your features now that you don't need to pull that tight smile anymore. Your chest physically aches from how anxious you’ve been all day, the weight of the day’s mistakes and fears of the future swelling deep in your gut. You know it’s a Friday, know you should just take a long sleep but you can’t help but think about all you have to do for the days to follow. You’re busy the whole day tomorrow, a team outing you can’t deny no matter how much you really do not want to go. Just thinking of all the final work you’ll have to cram in on Sunday makes a splitting pain run along the bumps in your brain. Even your breaths begin to feel shorter, an uncomfortable feeling that you just still cant rid of no matter how long you take deep breaths. Your eyes are weighed down with exhaustion and yet your brain refuses to let you sleep yet. No, you cannot. If you sleep the night away then you’ll only have Sunday left for yourself, and that won't work out, will it?

You pick up the mug you had just stirred, hoping the drink would soothe at least something if not your dehydrated body. Taking a small sip, the hot liquid spills down your throat, leaving a warm feeling in your ribs. “Alone by choice or force?” A gruff voice rings out behind you, along with an arm reaching around to supposedly grab a teabag as well, is enough to make you flinch. Stumbling on your own feet, your mug jolts and the steaming water splashes against your shoulder. If you were worried about someone catching you so vulnerable before, you were certainly terrified now, especially since your skin was burning from a small startle.

“Fuck— sorry—“

Ghost’s gloved hand settle on one side of your waist while the other quickly takes the mug from your hands and places it upon the counter. You cant respond, barely processing the situation and everything just feels like too much and your skin feels so hot, you know he’s seeing you fall apart and still there’s nothing you can do—

Your thoughts snap to a blank when he presses the cold rag against your burning skin. Thankfully the layers of the training uniform stops any severe marks from forming. His other hand rubs your cheek, his mask so close it could brush your face, and you can actually see every speck of brown in his irises. You can't look at him for long though, moving your gaze away quickly, not when you know what you’ve done. For the past week or two you’ve hated him, painting the most horrible picture in your mind. It wasnt even on purpose, you’ve just started seeing everything wrong about him. He doesnt give the rookies much mercy, nor does he particularly entertain any of Soap’s antics even when the situation is pretty lax. He’s boring, he seems to care about nothing but himself somedays, he refuses to let you do something stupid and he never takes that damn mask off even when you’re all supposed to trust one another. You’ve lied to him, yes, forgetting about your hatred when he made you laugh with those gruff remarks. But he’s not the only one— no, you’ve began to hate everyone in this task force, picking at them and every little thing. It’s weird, you don't want to victimize yourself, because you know you’ve done just as much wrong too. But still, somedays you really can't look past the list of things you dislike about your own friends.

“Are you alright? I havent seen you all week.”

Of course he hasn't, you’ve been avoiding them all. It’s nearly impossible to think straight these days and you knew you wouldn’t be able to fake it so naturally, you just stayed away. The more you did it, the better it began to feel. Avoiding them was the solution— you were just the thorn in their side with your tricky mood swings and anxiety always painting them to be the villain. You couldnt just allow this to happen, to destroy them with your issues even if they had no idea about it.

But now, face to face with him, all you feel is unexplainable guilt for everything you’ve done to them— how could you even hate them for a second? His hand is still rubbing at your skin, nudging your face gently upwards just so you’d at least look at him for a second. “Really? The silent treatment now?.” He sighs and you hate yourself, how did you let this spiral to this point— to where he’s apologising to you and yet you wish you could just disappear. Isnt this what you wanted? For everyone to be kind to you? So why are you running— why do you refuse care?

Your lips press together as your teeth bite down on the soft flesh, torn from how much you’ve picked at the skin the whole week. It aches with anxiety, and your teeth hurt from how often you’ve clenched them so hard they scraped against eachother. The only thing you can do is stand there as Ghost fusses over you, trying to get you to move a damn muscle instead of falling apart silently like some kind of broken watch, unable to move forward or backwards. Just still.

“Sarge— snap out of it, look, I'm sorry. Okay?”

His hands are still on you, and you’ve begged for a day where someone would care this much about you and still, you step back, almost afraid. “I’m sorry, Ghost.” You croak out, your hands reaching up to your eyes as you wipe at your skin obsessively, trying to hide and stop anything from leaking. “Why’re you apologising?” He says gruffly, confused by all of this, this sudden onslaught of emotion.

He’s not stupid, he had a feeling you weren't quite yourself this week. Stupidly, he figured you’d just deal with it on your own. That's what everyone did, right? He knows he just takes a breather when he feels a little rough— even Price had his own battles. Comfort isn't a strong point for Ghost, not even when he was Simon Riley, never has and he never thinks it will be. He’s born and bred on violence and the coldness that comes after it, the lack of warmth even as hot blood trickles and emptiness consumes the space where his fellow soldiers should be. So watching you crumble right before him, apologising profusely while your body wracks with shaken breaths, makes something stop in him too. He doesn't know how he’ll do it, but he knows damn well no one fights alone anymore.

“Look at me.”

He says firmly, both his hands landing firmly on your shoulders, one hand even tempted to just force your chin up but you shake your head profusely. “Why not?” He stays patient for you, even if he knows he may have to force you soon— its the least he can do for you. “I cant look at you. Not after everything i did.” He pauses, hands now settling on your jaw in confusion, he knows this is moving towards an interrogation but he has to know. “What are you talking about?! What did you do?”

“I hated all of you! I avoided you all and destroyed our relationship, i fucked it all up.”

With that he cant stand to see this continue, a gloved hand firmly planted over your mouth as the other wraps around your back. He leads you to the couch even as you squirm, not caring in the slightest. He knows he has strength and not comfort, so he’ll use it to shut you up whilst the truth comforts you instead.

“Look at me.” He says sternly and you do, eyes snapping up with wide fear as you look at him. “That’s not true— okay? None of us consider our relationship with you ruined, not one of us has even mentioned you in a bad light at all.” He makes sure your whole body is pressed against the back of the couch, considering that you didnt particularly look as if you could hold yourself up right now.

“Soap has only talked to me about you once recently— he told me you helped him organize the training schedules for the rookies. Told me to thank you for it because he felt he did not express his gratitude enough. Do you understand now? No one’s mad at you– not one of us have even considered anything to have gone wrong.”

His hand grabs your own, settling it on the center of his chest so you can feel the pattern of his breathing, silently praying you’d try and match it. You can only blink at him though, slowly processing his words with each passing second until his hand leaves your mouth and your lips part, breath hitched before you swallow a sharp breath. “I’ve avoided all of you– i’ve been hating all of you.” You choke out, chest clenching with regret and the weight of unreasonable guilt and his other hand moves to hold your face again, his brown eyes piercing into yours with his silence.

“What is like to hate someone?”

“What?”?

“What is it like to hate someone?” He repeats, his thumb pressing gently into the curve of your cheek.

“I-...” You falter, thinking for a moment before your lips part again. “I dont like things that they do— the way they act and everything about them.”

“You’d avoid them too, right? Like that general you hated. Remember when he touched you and you pushed his hand away?

You nod along in agreement, breathing a bit slower to hopefully ease the pressure on your chest at the moment.

“Y-yeah.. i’d express my dislike clearly..”

“So why did you never push me away the past few weeks? You said you avoided us, but you would always speak to us if we needed to. You still helped Soap too.”

You pause, blinking at him in confusion now, you had convinced yourself that you hated them so why did you never.. actually express it?

“You’re also letting me touch you now and last week you didn't want to hang out with us, but you didnt want to hurt our feelings by saying that.”

You’re left silent, baffled and confused because in your head, you were being horrible to them, hating their guts like it was nothing.

“I think… whatever is going on in that head of yours.” He says slowly, tapping at your forehead gently as you look up at him with widened eyes. “You’ve held it in for too long. You’ve dwelled on those thoughts, so self aware of your own anxieties that you’ve distorted reality. You think you’ve done something bad, because you can't understand why you always feel so bad.” His voice is softer than usual, even if his words are still gruff and holds his thick Manchester accent.

Somehow that alone reminds you that Simon has never lied, not even once, to you. That stern voice of his is straightforward, doesnt mess around and forces his way through any problem. Just like he had just pushed himself to the root of your mind and destroyed your seeds of doubt.

“You’re allowed to talk to us you know. I have a funny feeling you’re scared o’ somethin’. Not sure what just yet.”

He doesnt force you to respond, just speaking his thoughts even if that’s what you usually do when you’re together. The couch creaks as he stand up, pulling you to get up aswell beside him. He places a hand on the crook of your back, gently encouraging you to begin walking towards the door. “Cmon, back to my room. Lets get you cleaned up properly.”

Before you know it, you’re sitting against the headboard of his bed, something you had only felt months ago when you first came here, scared and confused over a stupid hornet. You trusted him to help you then, but you dont understand why you suddenly felt that fear again. Meanwhile, your shirt is half off, Ghost sat on the bed beside you as he inspects the burns on your chest from the tea. It’s harsh, the skin reddened but not enough to be something serious thankfully. He presses a cool towel against it, soothing the stinging skin but he knows it’ll fade out soon enough. You’re wearing his old shirt, and he gave you some comfortable sweatpants too for good measure. You just watch all his moves so quietly, feeling like a ghost yourself in this moment from how detached you are. It’s weird, feeling so much yet nothing at the same time.

“Nothing too bad, should be alright by the morning.” He hums, lifting the fresh mug of tea he brewed for you and brings it to your lips for you to sip before he steals some for himself. “Is your chest still tight?” You blink, not expecting him to ask that of all things because you hadnt exactly mentioned that part and yes, it was. “How did you know..?” Your hand reaches out, silently asking for more of the tea he graciously lets you sip, unable to fathom how he brews it so perfectly each time. “You were clutching at your chest before and your breaths are a little shorter than they should be.” He’s seen straight through you again so you slump your shoulders and just nod quietly. “Yeah, it’s really tight. It’s always like this and i dont know how to make it stop.”

His gloved hand reaches out, gently rubbing at your chest thus making you sink a little back into the pillows. Before he can respond, you speak up with a quiet confession. “That day, when you came ‘round, I was upset. You said you wanted to watch the series with me and I felt so bad. I didn't want to give up my only chance of spending time with you, but I knew my head couldn't take it.”

He nods along quietly, letting you reveal it all to him. “T-then you figured me all out and i got scared— i didnt want someone to know everything about me because i didnt want to be a problem. I want someone to listen but i dont want to be seen as something different. I just.. i dont know how to handle all of this. I dont feel like the person i am when i look in the mirror.”

The strangest thing of all is that it didnt actually take you long to figure it out. You knew all along, of course, but when you’re fighting against yourself, you’re supporting both sides and so a part of you decided not to dwell on a certain bit of information too much. The reason for that to be pushed aside is no part of you wanted to face it.

Your heart always secretly wished someone would find out— that someone would push past the walls you’ve banged so hard against even if they were crafted by the webs of your brain. You prayed and prayed that they’d read through it all, express their concern and one day, one day you’d be saved from this hellish feeling. It was a common daydream for you and yet you were terrified of it. If someone knew, there was no guarantee they’d follow the fantasy. They could ridicule you, or they couldnt be able to comfort you at all, maybe they’d try and it wouldnt even do anything or maybe, just maybe— they wouldnt give a damn about it. What happened then? If that daydream was real, and that was the final outcome, there was no turning back in time. It seemed like only one person would ever figure you out, after all, no one had up until this point.

But then Simon became aware, and you got terrified. You hid away because you were too scared to know his reaction to your problems, even more so his reaction to you. You wanted someone to help, you really did, and yet your brain feared to know the uncertain future of it.

His ungloved hands card through your hair, the callouses gentle against your scalp as he slowly scratches at it. “You need to speak with us, and the others. Your feelings are real— hell, we all have our doubts. I used to feel it before every mission. Soap began to tell me his, then Gaz joined too. Price always looks for a way to solve it, and i give my two pence when i feel i want to. Just cause you feel different, doesnt mean you are. Plenty o’ people felt the same way you did before.”

“Really..? I’m not like.. crazy?”

“No, never. Even if you do some stupid shit sometimes.”

That makes you finally crack a real smile, even if its small and you’re unable to stifle the small chuckle that bubbles in your throat and although he’s the epitome of stoicism, he smiles beneath the mask. “Everyone’s out on a mission, ya can't leave me alone tonight. C’mere.”

You settle yourself in the crook of arm as he lays back against the bed with you, propping up his laptop on his lap as he searches for a good movie.

“You better report back to me everyday this week, alright? I want you here at nine pm sharp, dressed in your pajamas. That’s an order.”

Thinking over all your previous daydreams of how this would eventually go, this was far from how you expected it to be. Firstly, you never expected Ghost, nor it to happen in the military at all. Perhaps you thought maybe later in life it’d occur or maybe Soap or Price would figure it out. Either way, you arent actually upset over it. No one would be your fairy tale saviour in life, coming forward to fight the demons that plagued your head all the time. Even so, the way Ghost had shut you up and calmed you down makes you think he’s pretty damn close to being one, even if knights usually dont scoff at their princess.

He doesnt even look like he’d be willing to give a little kid a hug, but still, you couldnt be happier with how this turned out in the end. Compared to fairytale princes and men in the movies, you knew Ghost and you knew he was serious— so if he wanted to help you, he would. And no, he wouldnt ridicule you throughout the process, nor ever feel like you’ve been misheard. You know that if you spoke to Ghost, he’d listen earnesty and never forget, carrying that around with him even if those anxieties eventually died out.

You knew he’d always linger around, never forgetting you or leaving you behind. Just like a Ghost.

“Okay, i promise i will.”

You say softly, pressing your cheek against the curve of his chest, the faint thump of his heartbeat drowning out any lost thoughts. He was your support, and no matter how bad it got for you, no matter how many times you get overwhelmed and lash out, not even when you avoid everyone— he’d never break away. No, he would always be beside you.

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the-offside-rule · 10 months ago

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George Russell (Mercedes) - Regency

Requested: yes

Prompt: 20) "It's like suddenly every love song is about you."

Warnings: nada

George and Y/n sat cozily on the couch, engrossed in an episode of Bridgerton. The soft glow of the TV illuminated their faces as they indulged in the Regency-era drama. As George and Y/n wrapped his arms tighter around his girlfriend, she turned to him, a playful glint in her eyes. "You know, you'd fit right in with the British charm on this show. Can you imagine giving me a dramatic love confession like they do?" George knotted his brows, partially confused. "How?" Y/n grinned mischievously. "Well, you're British, and you've got that dashing charm. Plus, wouldn't it be amusing if you had one of those angry love confessions, just like in the show?"

George raised an eyebrow, entertained by the idea. "Oh, you want an angry love confession, do you?" Y/n nodded eagerly, her eyes sparkling with anticipation, and sitting up off him. With a grin, George cleared his throat, adopting a dramatic tone worthy of Bridgerton. "Very well, my dearest Y/n. Brace yourself for the torrent of my affection." Y/n giggled, settling in for George's performance. George chuckled, playing along. "Oh, my dearest Y/n, I must confess, my heart yearns for you in the most passionate manner," he said in a faux posh accent. "Do go on, Mr. George, I'm intrigued." Y/n giggled, encouraging him to continue. George stood up, taking Y/n along with him as though he was in the show. "Ah, my love." He began theatrically. "In your eyes, I find a celestial beauty that rivals the heavens above." Y/n's mouth was agape. "You're doing splendidly, darling. Carry on."

"My beloved Y/n, from the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew my heart was irrevocably yours. You are not merely a person to me; you are my stars, my moon, and my sun." Y/n's eyes widened in amusement and affection as George continued, his voice dripping with melodrama. "In your presence, it's as though every melody I hear is but a love song dedicated to you. Your laughter is the sweetest symphony, and your smile, oh, your smile, it could outshine the very sun itself."

Y/n couldn't help but laugh, charmed by George's theatrics. "Keep going, I'm intrigued!"

"Y/n, my love for you knows no bounds. It transcends time and space, like a love story woven into the fabric of the universe itself. To love you is to breathe, to exist, to live." George continued, looking into Y/n's eyes with mock seriousness. "The melody of my heart beats in sync with the rhythm of your laughter." George, still in character, took Y/n's hand, pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles. "My dearest Y/n, my feelings for you are a tempestuous storm, yet in the chaos, I find the most exquisite serenity." She felt her cheeks heat up as he looked up towards her. Y/n couldn't help but smile. "Oh, George."

"What? You wanted a confession and you got one." George chuckled, kissing her lips. "I know but Jesus, have you been practising that?" George laughed falling back onto the couch with Y/n in his arms. "No, not at all. I just did a lot of poetry and literature in school. It's easy to come up with sometimes." He said it as though it were easy. It wasnt. To do it unscripted was something else entirely. "I know but it was quite romantic." She muttered. George leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. "Only for you, my dear Y/n. Only for you."

As they melted into each other's embrace, the echoes of their laughter mingled with the melodious strains of Bridgerton, creating a scene straight out of a love story—one that would rival even the most captivating tales of Regency romance.

#f1 imagine #f1 blurb #f1 oneshot #f1 oneshots #george russell x y/n #george russell x you #george russell oneshot #george russell x reader #george russell imagine #george russell blurb #george russell fanfic #george russell fluff #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x oc #f1 x you #f1 x reader

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effieotto · 4 months ago

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Haymitch and Maysilee was not a romantic relationship

I don’t know who created it, but i hate it so much. It doesn’t make sense at all. Haymitch doesn’t have nightmares with her because he was madly in love with her, he has nightmares with her because he watched her die! Katniss had Rue; Peeta had one of the Morphings and Haymitch had Maysilee, it is not a Romantic arc! Even more because HE WASNT SINGLE! i don’t know about you guys, but i would be really pissed if i was cheated on by my boyfriend in live television and then murdered because he decided to challenge the bloody president. He would not make his girl go through something like that

and to make it clear, i am not saying it because of Hayffie! I know some people forget, but Maysilee is dead, whether or not Hayzilee was a romantic relationship, it does not affect Haymitch and Effie’s dynamic. However, it would affect everything that happened with him. Cause being responsible, not only for her death, but for the public humiliation of cheating on her in front of the entire nation? Pick your struggle Haymitch, you can’t have everything

#haymitch abernathy #maysilee donner #haymitch x maysilee #the hunger games #hayffie #Haymitch was not a cheater #Chill guys is just my opinion

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luna0713hunter · 11 months ago

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Tell me a lie

Part 1

Modern au!Choso x reader,breakup,angst,hurt/comfort,happy ending i promise

The day you break up with Choso, ironically,is the anniversary of the day you two met.

Breaking up with Choso,was easy;you two weren't real couples to begin with. The whole thing only started out as a joke;since the two of you kept getting hit on in College almost every day,you thought it'll be a funny idea to play pretend with your best friend.

"what if we pretend to date?i bet that'll help us out."

It was a joke. A stupid, thoughtless joke.

A joke,that got real too fast.

"what if we did?"

So you did. At that time,it seemed like the best idea; after all,you and Choso never had any romantic feelings toward one another,so it wouldn't hurt right?

But breaking up did hurt. No matter what.

Falling in love with Choso was easy. Of course it was;he was the kindest guy you've ever knew. He was your best friend since the first semester in college,and the only guy you could rely on.

Falling in love with Choso was easy, because you've always loved him deep in your heart.

The sky was blue,night was dark,and you loved Choso Kamo.

Simple as that.

But as you watch Choso stare down at his hands across yours on the small table tucked in the corner of a cozy cafe,you cant help but to wonder how easy it would be to reach out and wrap your fingers around his.

But no. You wont do that; because that wasnt the deal. You both had agreed that after college ends,so does your fake relationship. And thats why you're here;to end whatever was going on between the two of you.

"so...thats it." You clear your throat,trying to muster enough courage for an awkward smile, "the last day of college. "

Choso doesnt say a word.

"what,uh,what would you do now?"

Your eyes remain on the way his long, elegant fingers tap against the coffee mug he's holding.

Tap,tap,tap

"I'll look for job. Take care of Yuji."

"oh yeah!you mentioned he's gonna live with you from now on,must be exciting!"

And finally,Choso looks up. And how you wished he'd continue to look at you forever.

"if we're done here,i should go pick up Yuji from his daycare."

And you just nod, dumbfounded as he grabs his coat and pays for both of your drinks. You dont say a word,not until he's almost out of the door,before glancing back at you with the smallest,most forced smile you've ever seen from him.

"it was nice being with you,y/n. Take care."

"you too Choso..."

I Love you

You dont say. Instead,you just sit there,staring out of the cafe window as the first snowflakes of winter start to fall.

And if you've shed a tear or two,no one would know.

+++

"yes!yes thank you so much!!! I'll head straight there!!!"

As you rush to the nearest bus stop,you check the address your friend has sent you. If you took the bus right now,you would be there in no time!

Why the rush?

Lets just say,job hunting was going nowhere. So as soon as your friend from college mentioned she knew someone who needed a sitter for their sibling,you jumped at the opportunity.

As you get off the bus,you double check the location your friend has sent you and smile;the house is nothing big,just a regular household you see on streets. The front yard has few flowers and plants,and when you ring the doorbell,your heart beats loudly against your ribcage.

The door swings open,and when you dont see anyone in front of you, you raise your brow until you hear a tiny,excited voice calling for you.

"Hi y/n!!"

Your eyes draws downward,and you let out a small squeak;the small boy standing in front of you is nothing but adorable. His spikey pinkish hair is messy,and his big brown eyes are so innocent. There are scratches and small bruises on his cheeks,arms and knees,and the huge, blinding smile he's giving you makes anyone's heart melt.

But that's not the reason you're almost having a heart attack no.

The reason is-

"Yuji!i told you not to open the door without me!!"

Yuji,the small boy turns around and smiles sheepishly.

"Sorry,Choso-nii!"

You swallow,and as you're wondering if its too late to turn around and run,the man himself,Choso freaking Kamo opens the door wider and upon seeing you,grows quiet.

There's an awkward moment where neither of you say anything.

"...y/n. Why are you here..?"

You cough,and hold up your phone for him to see.

"Remember Yuki,from college?she told me her friend needed a sitter for his younger sibling...so.."

"You're my new sitter,y/n?!"

The small squeal has you melting and you knee in front of Yuji and ruffle his hair.

"hey Yuji,i see you still remember me."

The boy gives you a toothy grin, showing you he's missing a few,and nods.

"Big bro always talks about you-"

"Yuji," Choso's calm voice snaps both of your heads his way, "why dont you go watch tv while we speak?"

Yuji,the ever polite kid he is,rushes inside. Leaving you alone with your kinda-friend who you haven't seen in six months.

Not since your break-up.

When Choso clears his throat,you nervously glance up at him and hate the way your heart throbs,even after six months.

You still love him.

"so," he awkwardly steps aside, "want a cup of tea?"

#jujutsu kaisen #choso x you #jjk choso #choso x reader #choso kamo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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ilynpilled · 1 year ago

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i feel like ive seen too many very odd reads of this whole thing, so i do wanna go through jaime & the brutal murder of rhaegar and elia’s children situation.

first of all, we know jaime’s main function as a kingsguard at 15: he is a pawn in aerys and tywin’s beef. he is a hostage and a means to rob tywin of an heir

this is what rhaegar tells him too. despite jaime’s guilt, it was not a “i am leaving everything in your hands 💔 you are my most trusted knight” being said to an unseasoned teen, rhaegar isn’t dense, but a: “he is tywin’s son, he is the ideal hostage to keep him under control. a crutch for aerys and his dangerous paranoia (even if just to satiate him, which is why he was kept close, again, people knew that aerys was erratic atp.)” we have the actual conversation. rhaegar is open about this, he isnt really tricking jaime here. they also emphasize that he has to stay near aerys. that is his primary role, not anything else. what rhaegar didn’t take into consideration is that tywin, when it comes down to it, will sack the city anyway (neither did he know what would happen at the trident, and how badly the tides will turn, how it will affect aerys and how he will think he was betrayed by lewyn and dorne, how he will not let elia and the children leave etc), the stakes are too great for house lannister and we know tywin will not pick the losing side. it is already a pretty grim situation for jaime, who had witnessed the brutal executions of a bunch of people at this point, to be left alone in the hands of a mad man as someone who eventually becomes solely responsible for the red keep, while also being functionally a hostage while his father decides to betray the crown, but of course, aerys has a bigger plan to retaliate and therefore jaime also has bigger things to worry about.

jaime feels guilt and responsibility about the whole thing anyway, and the way it is read in the most bad faith way imaginable is kind of odd to me. the dream is extremely integral. it reveals things to us that jaime pushes down as a narrator. it peels off the layers. first of all, jaime is explicit about ned’s judgement, the kingslayer complex, and the role that played, and his concious expects ned to show up in the dream as well, but it is revealed to be not actually about that. he, and that external source of judgement and scorn, is not the thing that haunts him. we see that it is a deep sense of failure over being unable to triumph over contradictions. he reflects on this after the dream too: “it was not him. it was never him.” and the message is deliberately delivered by the ghosts of the people that embody that initial quixotic view of the world that he had as a boy.

i have seen people claim that the “light dimming” is meant to indicate jaime lying about not knowing (being aware that tywin can be very brutal and is capable of hurting innocents is different from jaime knowing or suspecting this order). even if that wasnt contradicted in the text (ill get to this), it doesnt seem to work with the dream? the fires also gutter out when he gets condemned for killing the king right after, there is no clear him “lying” consistency here. and even if you go by that interpretation, the flame is unaffected by the claim of “i was with the king”, which would then have to be true (and it is—so again what is jaime meant to do here?) because we know the scaling of maegor’s holdfast was happening simultaneously with aerys being murdered and the wildfire plot being stopped. the main function of this part of the dream is jaime’s light, a “romantic burning out” as george puts it, being destroyed by contradictory oaths and a fundamentally unjust and cynical world. the light being withered is about losing hope & purpose, and failing to keep vows that actually matter. rhaegar’s children, his guilt over them, and the oath they embody (protect the weak, defend the innocent) plague his mind. the “I never thought he’d hurt them” is relevant in a different way. jaime is guilty of being an extension of the lannister regime. he is guilty of enabling it. and this is more relevant to him after this event, in the present. the whole dream operates on three levels: past, present, and future.

it is why this idea comes up with the tysha situation as well. whether he knew or considered it at the time (and i do not personally think he did, or it was compartmentalized) or not is not whats truly relevant. i think the point that is being emphasized is that tywin and his legacy is something that has to be rejected entirely in the present. he knows by now inarguably. no more “looking without seeing.” this justification does not work anymore. anyway, the point is that his light goes out because of the terror of being confronted with these contradictory oaths and impossible situations where these heavy choices have to be made, with devastating costs. the vows cannot compromise. these are situations and choices that destroy a nonexistent ideal that he had always romanticized in every aspect of his life. it is a culmination of the build up of everything jaime held close to his heart being torn down during those two years serving in the kingsguard. it is about the conflict between ethics and morals: “In some queer way, that had been worse than Lord Chelsted’s screaming. “We are sworn to protect her as well,” Jaime had finally been driven to say. “We are,” Darry allowed, “but not from him.” & “After, Gerold Hightower himself took me aside and said to me, “You swore a vow to guard the king, not to judge him.”

but this situation is intentionally impossible in every aspect. morals and ethics conflict. we have the obvious of what do you do when killing the king breaks the oath you swore to protect him? what if not doing it means breaking the oath to protect the innocent? what if your heroes condemn you despite you telling them the full context of this dilemma and make the fire gutter out permanently? what if being with the king (be it to protect him or kill him to save a city) means you are not there to protect the children from your own father (who you are also sworn to obey)? the moral constructs that this society operates with is nonsense, and it is not confronted by people. can the horrors be fought at all? this is how you have someone described as a “very idealistic young man” by george turn into the amoral bitter cynic we see in the actual series who proceeds to revolve his life around another delusion instead, the only one that remains to him, and loses his own moral code due to how extremely it all conflicts with all code of ethics. it results in a cowardly acceptance of the horrors, his selfishness and faux nihilism, and leads to the enablement and perpetuation of evil.

there is a reason this whole thing haunts jaime and his narrative, and starts blending together with the starks in adwd (something jaime is directly accountable for), and is a huge factor when it comes to jaime effectively contradicting tywin’s dogma when he goes with brienne. jaime became that “knight” in many ways, he, by his own admission, became the smiling knight, who he later also labels “the mountain of my boyhood.” but he is not anymore, which is why there are notable anti parallels in that chapter.

when it comes to how much jaime knew back then, i think the text is pretty clear:

1. if jaime knew or suspected that tywin had the massacre of an entire family already in motion the hope of “leaving to make terms” would not really be there. 2. after he is found, crakehall informs him that they secured the city and the castle. jaime points out in retrospect that this was only half true, and that he couldn’t have known about the scaling (and other things) still happening by this point. jaime is under the impression that everything is secured as a result. he orders everyone who yields to be spared. he is also under the impression as per his narration that aegon is still there, safe and alive, and could be a potential king. however, he does become concerned about the possibility of another aerys. there is a reason he climbs the throne here imo. i never read this as “jaime too busy fucking around lol” or “is intentionally letting them die because his blood is in both of them.” again, he orders everyone who yields spared, and is under the impression that the castle is already secured. he even entertains the possibility of tywin being hand to aegon as king (clearly not possible with what is in the middle of happening —and if he even suspects this threat, why is this considered a possibility by him?) until he gets an aerys flashback, and decides against it despite it serving his family. he has a lot of things on his mind right now anyway to figure out tywin’s current strategy when it comes to house lannister (not to mention this is not really how jaime’s brain works, he is not very machiavellian minded) considering he just damned himself by committing one of the most significant oathbreakings in history, and that someone will fill the hole left by the person who had the power to nuke a city, something that jaime has nightmares about nearly 20 years later. and even if he was aware of this threat that he clearly wasn’t, considering the fact that it was happening simultaneously with jaime killing aerys and being found, if he knew and tried to rush over there after killing aerys, judging from the distance, it would have been too late. hence “i was with the king…” in the dream.

#jaime lannister #i am genuinely baffled at how something so clearly presented can be skewed to the point that it usually is #like this is the core of much of his character too like hello #ig bc none of this was in the show??? lol???

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