He couldn’t feel pain nor could he express emotions—Taemin was regarded as a heartless figure, even called a robot by some. However, he could in fact feel; he knew when he’s injured, he knew he had feelings. The problem was, he couldn’t tell the severity of his wounds, and he couldn’t properly show his emotions. His closed ones told him to look to faith, to allow God into his heart so that he may find the answers to his imperfections. Taemin became a pastor, not because he truly believed in a higher being, but because he’s still finding the answers to his existence. He reads the bible like one would a storybook, and never used it to preach or guide the lost. Everything he did, when people approached him seeking wisdom, was from the bottom of his heart, from his own understanding of the world as he saw it.

name: jiang taemin
nickname: minnie — taem/tame
age: twenty-nine
birthdate: july 18th

job: pastor
subject: n/a

lineage: halfblood
secondary gender: alpha
scent: frankincense

amory: poly
orientation: aromantic biual
preference: dominant-leaning versatile

clan: yunmeng jiang
powers: hydrokinetic

TW: disturbing imagery of injuries, religion (christianity)

Taemin was a quiet child. He never shouted or threw a tantrum. He was the perfect angel any parent could ask for.

That would be the case if he had positive reactions to outward stimuli too. Whether that be buying toys that most children would cry for or getting treats many kids would beg their parents for, Taemin would not budge. He never cried, never yelled, never smiled, never laughed. Absolutely nothing.

His parents took him to a specialist. He was five when they found out he had alexithymia, a rare condition in which the affected person can’t express emotions properly. He could feel them, but he couldn’t properly show them. It was difficult for his parents to read him, just as it was hard for Taemin to voice his own thoughts and concerns to them.

The boy was seven when he received another diagnosis—con insensitivity to pain (CIP). He had been climbing a tree, as would any restless child his age do. He slipped on a branch and tumbled. It was a big fall considering his small stature. His arm felt wrong, but he couldn’t place the problem. So, he shrugged off the issue and returned home.

His father gawped while his mother fussed over his injury. To him, there was just an insistent throbbing in his arm. To his parents, they could see the broken bone jutting from under the skin.

His parents hired a nanny to look after him. He wasn’t a troublemaker by any means, but if he didn’t even cry out when his arm was broken, who was to say that he wouldn’t walk around with a tree branch poking out of his shoulder?

Children around him were aware of his problem. They would point and whisper, calling him a “freak” or “weirdo”. Parents who were unnerved by Taemin prevented their kids from interacting with him, rendering him by himself.

Not that he minded—at least, outwardly, it didn’t seem like he cared.

Taemin knew there was something wrong with him. The diagnoses were proofs enough. However, he wondered: Why was he born so differently from everyone else around him?

There was a teacher in school who he asked this question to. It was not as if he liked the teacher or looked up to them. He just wanted to ask.

The teacher was a religious person. She hunched to Taemin’s height and offered him a word of advice as a child of faith.

“Perhaps you can find an answer from our Creator.”

She offered Taemin the bible, which he accepted. He was ten years old.

Taemin did not believe in God. Although, seeing their child walking around with a bible, his parents thought he had found a path in Christianity. As such, they supported him by sending him to religious schools. He didn’t know how to explain that he was merely reading the bible as a person would a storybook, so he just let his parents do as they pleased.

He was seventeen when he finally visited a church. His parents offered to bring him there in the past, but he always turned them down. They thought he was shy and stopped pressuring. Truthfully, he was just uninterested.

Within the church, Taemin felt at peace. Perhaps it was the quiet atmosphere, creating a serene ambiance. Even an atheist would “feel the presence of God” from the sheer tranquility of a silent dome.

Before his departure, he ran into a priest. The man must’ve known Taemin was a unique person, for he offered his consolations and advice as a religious figure. The teenager didn’t want to interrupt, so they just let the man talk.

Taemin didn’t visit the church often. Although, he would come across the priest many times on the street. Every time, the religious man would strike up a conversation with Taemin, always ending with a question on when the latter would visit again. Every time, the teenager would visit the very next day.

It eventually became a habit, one that he carried to Fenrir Academy. Despite being far from Yunmeng Jiang, Taemin would still visit a church in the area. He would bid the nuns and priest there, and help them around the vicinity.

Students had seen his antics. They thought he was a pious man—either in awe of his devotion or apprehensive of his ritual. There were some who picked on him for his attitude, though he never bothered with them. Deep down, he was annoyed; still, on the outside, he couldn’t express it. There had been moments where the bullying went too far and he got injured. Those times, he would just walk off as if his head wasn’t bleeding a waterfall.

Taemin eventually graduated. He returned to Yunmeng Jiang, unsure of what to do with his life. He visited the priest he met as a teenager, and that’s where he was given an idea.

“Why not spread the word of God to other people?”

He didn’t become a pastor to preach. However, based on his experience, he was able to find a purpose from partaking in church activities. If he could be productive from involving himself in religious events, perhaps he could help students to form a goal through consultations at the academy chapel.

likes: text — text — text

dislikes: text — text — text

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talents: text — text — text

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friendly: 

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about mun: you can call us cel. Born 2002, timezone is GMT +8. We go by they/he pronouns, and address ourselves with we/I interchangeably.

writing & plotting: we don't mind either 1st or 3rd POV. We can do descriptive, novella and purple prose. Inform us which you prefer, or we’ll assume you don’t mind either three. In terms of genre, we like dark, angst and fluff. we prefer rooms over walls, and any private threads can be made into group pms. personal messages are solely for plotting purposes. 

activity & reply speed: when the muse is high, we can reply within the day. we're usually hanging out in the chatrooms, as we like socialising. if we don't respond after 7 days, you may poke us. we won't poke you, and if you don't respond after a week, we'll remove the thread from our tracker. it'll be put back on if you reply to it. 

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• lan kang | chapel | need to reply
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