#try to see what ive learned in a certain amount of time. things i got right. things i got wrong

[strawberryseeded]

.

#honestly life is so sad and stuff makes me so sad #sometimes i just have to (HAVE to) take some time to reflect on stuff #try to see what ive learned in a certain amount of time. things i got right. things i got wrong #i dont always enjoy it but i need to do it #yesterday & today as well i was in one of those reflection moods #and i concluded (not for the first time) that i have a really REALLY hard time moving on from the bad stuff #especially bad stuff *i* did or bad stuff i witnessed and couldnt do anything about #sometimes even silly little mistakes that arent rly that trascendent. i just get upset anyways #thats why ive been trying to appreciate the good stuff in my life more. it really helps honestly #but i still get very depressed sometimes #cant get certain thoughts or memories out of my head for days and days and weeks and months #some of them ive had for more than 10 years. not everyday but at least periodically #im scared to never be able to move on from them #and im scared of them piling up more and more bc i WILL keep fucking up and i will keep encountering sad things and sad ppl in my life #im scared of the inability of my brain of getting past that #bc reflecting is GOOD. thinking abt stuff and feeling stuff (even when its a sad or angry feeling) is GOOD and healthy!! #thats why i wont give up on that. never. its an important thing to do. i look at the past and present and try to learn from it #but often i get stuck in all the bad stuff and its hard to see the good. i cant forget or move on #am i gonna be like this forever #? #di4ry

[neil-gaiman]

hey mr gaiman. i saw that this post got revisited and wanted to address it.

i submitted this ask over a year ago on my old account and it was one of the stupidest things i ever did. it was my first tumblr account. id only been really online for a few weeks. i was 13. i was just coming back to school after a global pandemic.

ive been a fan of good omens for years and a fan of yours for longer. i was brought up reading odd and the frost giants and fortunately the milk, and as i got older i fell in love with your norse mythology book, good omens, snow glass apples, the sleeper and the spindle, and more.

i was excited to see one of my favorite authors on tumblr and tried to come up with the most bold and interesting ask i could think of.

i was rude and misinformed and it was a stupid choice of me to send it in with no thought.

but i got feedback. some in the form of kind suggestions. quite a few in the form of death threats and people telling me to kill myself.

while those specific messages were rude and hateful, the point got across. i educated myself to the best of my abilities, and eventually came back online.

not only did i misuse the term queerbaiting but i also implied that you were not an amazing supporter of the queer community. that’s absolutely incorrect. you’ve done so much for us with activism, representation, and overall kindness.

i wanted to address this ask that got so much attention because despite moving accounts i still feel guilt and shame every time i see it, or even when i interact with any of your posts at all. i need to actually address it.

also, i wanted a proper apology to be made. by no means am i now a saint. but im trying to be more thoughtful about thinking before i speak.

whether or not you decide to make a public response to this, i think ill find some peace knowing you’ve received this. ive needed closure on this for a long time.

im overjoyed and thrilled that season two is so close. thank you for tolerating the dumb questions of pretentious kids and thank you for helping to create a world where we can grow to be better than we were.

First of all, and most importantly, I'm really sorry that people were mean to you. That's awful. And nobody should ever have to deal with death threats or online threats and attacks, let alone a thirteen year old.

And secondly, you do not owe me an apology. I figure I have a Tumblr account, people ask things. Mostly they'll get nice replies, occasionally (normally when I'm being asked the same thing over and over) the replies will be terser. There has to be a certain amount of rough and tumble though, and occasionally I'll grab an ask that represents all of the asks I've had on that subject, and try and reply to all of them. That's what happened to you. I was getting tired of being accused of Queerbaiting for the occasional answer about a Season that was not yet released and about which nobody knew anything. And I needed to tell everyone who was doing this that they had to stop now. You had the misfortune to be the representative of all of the other people.

If you are not making mistakes you are not human and you are not learning anything.

(I wish there was tone of voice on the internet.)

And I think you are growing and learning and will make a fantastic adult.

I really hope you enjoy Season 2 when it drops.

#And I hope as many people are nice and supportive about this post #as were mean about that first one

[austinsastrology8991]

* DEGREE THEORY * and more...

this is just a theory, I love all degree theories and this is just my spin on the degree interpretations

Okay so I love the connotations towards Aries being 1°13°25° and that making the planet/point being aggressive and brash, and Taurus 2°14°26° making them more stable and growing into their power as time goes on, and so on with the rest of the signs; it makes good sense and I love reading the interpretations assigned to the signs inherent values. But I got a theory so Ive been connotating these degrees to the Tarot Card meanings, and well let me just go ahead and explain myself: 1° = The Magician - Represents creation, willpower, skills, but also negatively; cunning, vanity, or latent talents. > Now in comparison to the normal aries degrees - to me there are lots of similarities, aries is the starter - alike the magician - and they are both very aggressive in the attainment of their goals, which leads to vanity and well 'latent talents' from the lack of foresight. But on the positive they have plentyful amounts of willpower and are able to create things out of thin air since they have little foresight of potential consequences. 2° = the High Priestess - Represents Intuition, subconscious mind, spirituality, secret knowledge. but negatively; lack of self control, withdrawal, lack of self trust. These once again to me at least coincide with a lot of the taurus qualities > self control, self trust, withdrawal... Now i know you def could say its a lot like Pisces but I have a good counter. Look at the hanged man > Surrender, new perspectives, letting go... this is more in line with Pisces than the high priestess actually. Because the high priestess wants you to connect with YOUR higher power, the hanged man would rather you let go of your ego and connect the dots of the world around. But i digress. Also the connection between Taurus and Pisces is undeniable. Now im gonna switch what im sayin a bit but hear me out. > If you have a Pisces ascendant > aries is in your 2nd house (taurus) and we all know aries is something your constantly pursuing and are aggressive in the pursuit. Now if you have a Taurus ascendant > aries in the 12th house (pisces) you are aggresively trying to understand others because you have such a good understanding of yourself maybe learning from others would teach you even more (not to mention gemini in the 2nd... but i digress) okay so i understand this is a lot of information and maybe a little hard to digest so im not going to make it too long. But i have so many other theories and im just testing this post out to see how it is received. I could have gone on about each of the tarot card meanings, but i dont want to waste my time if it isnt going to be received well. However I do in my own spare time constnatly evaluate certain degrees with the connotated tarot cards... Like for example 8° is scorpio - power, mystery, intrigue, and well thats paired with the strength card... I mean im just saying i truly do believe there to be a strong connection between, tarot, astrology and well numerology also, i just wish we treated all the occults as the same subject - the occult because we are all just trying to discover secrets given from higher powers, so why we gotta act like they all cannot be correlated? also we've gone so backwards with our understanding of the occult > those witches back in the day just imagine what they all knew about the occult. and we are just over here trying to tell each other how sexy we are because we have leo and roar loudly or because you have scorpio you are sexy because you have a stinger.... like honestly sometimes i want yall to grow up.... ANYWAY i jumped around too much to be coherent, but well im just speaking my mind and yeah you let me know if this did something to your brain or if you fell asleep and want to be told that your a sexy demon seductress again...

#astrology #astrology theory #astrology thoughts #astro community #astrology blog

[honeyxmonkey]

uh so...how do carters hearing aids work exactly? and what type are they? also do they use asl or bsl- also: does healing magic exist in this au? cause ive seen aus that both have it but it being rare, to not having it at all, to having it be normal. and finally do carterdoux ever have fights? like yes ik theyre soulmates but theyre also normal humans. so. ya , if and when they fight like- whats it like

All excellent questions!

1. Carter’s hearing aids are usually enchanted with a protection spell via Douxie (though Carter will be the first to admit he's gone through a lot of them over the years). The casing is made of celestial bronze to add extra unbreakableness to them cause the amount of shenanigans he gets into are of a, frankly, ridiculous amount. The first pair he got from Galahad is when hearing aids were becoming a more wide spread thing.

The type of hearing aid he has is a BTE (behind-the-ear)

2. They use a form of ASL, with some added signs they made up together for words that don't exist in ASL at all. Like "Trollhunter" is a combination of "monster" and "sword". Stuff like that, where they've had to make up a new sign cause it didn't exist in the language.

3. Healing magic does exist in the world of HBaH, although it's extremely rare and difficult to learn. The most commonplace for it is usually within certain magical animals like unicorns, magic flora that can only be found in very specific biomes, or in children of Aher, who's the god of medicine and healing among other things. It's very rare to find a wizard or other magic user who's not related to Aher to have the ability to use healing magic.

4. Yes, they do have fights. Probably a lot more than you'd expect. They're very different people, who tend to see things different ways, so that leads to arguments or disagreements. But this being said, they always work things out eventually. And it's not always, if ever, yelling when they argue. It's usually quiet conversations where they both get to say their opinion and try to work together to reach some sort of middle ground.

But, in high stress situations they sometimes do yell at eachother, but that's always met with apologies after. They've never had an argument that really tore them apart in a long long time. I think maybe the last one they had that got both of them really upset to the point of not talking to eachother for a full three days was shortly after they'd moved to the cabin. It was not a fun time for anyone, but they worked it out in the end.

#tales of arcadia #wizards tales of arcadia #hisirdoux casperan #toa wizards #carter howard #carterdoux #tales of arcadia oc #toa oc #toa ocs #half bloods and hunters #ship asks #answered asks

[luca-pink]

okay i have legit no idea who to rant to cause its cringe and embarrassing - So I’m watching an interview with Dream and I cant help but relate to him so much, he is the sort of person who just says shit and that’s legitimately why i started posting here, i have a tendency to say shit without thinking and accidentally making people feel bad or just simply saying something really inappropriate for certain situations. So i decided when i really need to get my thoughts out and i think it could not go over well i post it here. its super therapeutic for me. Dream wasnt like that for a while, he got criticism and he just said whatever on twitter and he just dug himself deeper. So many people hate him or think hes a bad person and i do agree he definitely has not handled things well in the past but as someone who has been in that situation I will always be the first to apologise and try and fix what ive done and i think Dream seems to do that too. I dont watch his content but i do watch some people adjacent to him so i see what that community is up to.

When i was first diagnosed with adhd they said you have MILD inattentive type adhd and at the time that made sense but as i have learned more about adhd and what can be a result of it i cant even tell you how much it impacts my life. As i mentioned im rash i dont think before i speak, i struggle with motivation (which is also due to not being in a great headspace but the adhd definitely doesnt help)

OKAY REAL QUICK IM GOING TO DO THE MOST ADHD THING EVER BUT MY MOTHER IS ON THE PHONE TO A VET AND WE MIGHT BE ADOPTING A KITTEN OML (ill tell that story later)

and i just thinking sometimes people dont see how much something like that can affect someone.

Dream has said he dropped out of irl school at the start of highschool, i have been “homeschooled” since i started secondary school, i could go on but what im trying to say is that you may not like someone or agree with them but that doesn’t mean they cant correct their actions, from what ive seen he always tries to go back and reflect and research the topic he has been criticised for and from my perspective he has genuinely improved a lot (you can tell by the amounts of tweets he makes these days :) )

This isnt a dream stan raving about how amazing of a person he is, this is a person who can relate and can see the humanity behind mistakes.

ANYWAYS PLEASE DONT SEND ME NO LONGER LIVING THREATS THANK YOU!

[rage-against-the-dying-of-light]

hi there big fan. id say first time writer but i think this is my second ask ive sent you actually. i was meaning to ask how you wind up participating in so many zines! it seems like every time i catch one taking applications it's something i'm just not a fit for, and the ones that i WOULD fit right in with always manage to pass me by. is it just a matter of knowing people? tracking certain tags? luck? genuinely asking because i'd love to take part in something like that and i always see you in so many! ok thats my ask. thanks for writing sooo good i love to read it. sparkle on

Hey Musashi, thanks for the ask, nice to see you in my ask box again.

Anyways, getting into zines! Well, for Ace Attorney getting my start was luck, I didn't even know what a zine was until a new friend told me and some others in our private server that they were in an AA zine and pre-orders had just opened, and so I rushed to support them. I won't ramble your ear off with the whole damn story, but eventually I found the @ aafancalendar which reblogs pretty much every AA event that could be going on. Not every fandom has it's own dedicated calender, but that one is fantastic!

In terms of getting into zines? Most zines have a blind submission process, so I am pleased to say I got into them via skill. But in terms of knowing ppl? That usually helps for running a zine.

Running a zine is a lot of work, but mods also get to be in their own zine, it's kind of a mod privileges thing. So that can be a place where knowing ppl helps, bc if you've shown you're a great mod, they might ask for your help on future projects. But there are still lots of opportunities to get into modding (many zines invite intern mods to learn the ropes!), and you can always just be head mod yourself too, (that's another story for another time). I’m also just autistic af and cold called ppl in the fandom who I admired and wanted to work with and who had worked on other zines. Your mileage may vary, but there’s no harm in asking, just make sure you’re fine taking no for an answer.

That's about how I got into half the zines I'm in, is I'm helping run them. But part of it is just persistence and not counting yourself out before you even apply. I want to get traditionally published too, so been trying the magazine scene, so I already had 1 years worth of magazine rejections under my belt, but even still, it does still hurt to get rejected even from zines, but you have to be persistent. I think I'm at a 50/50 acception to rejection rate when it comes to getting into zines. Sometimes, even if you're skilled, your prose style or whatever just doesn't vibe with the zine mods and that's not a reflection of your skill.

The short of it: put your best works forward and apply to everything you’re interested in.

I'll also leave you with some more resources. So in terms of finding zines from other fandoms, the best resource I've found is @ ZineTown on Twitter. (I know we might not like Twitter, but they're incredibly professional, active and a huge community, extremely worth following.) I'd also suggest joining their Discord channel, bc it is not only great to find zines to contribute to, a ton of mods there also post looking for mods to help out and you can choose to get pinged for specific fandoms, or specific mod roles.

Also if you're into Genshin Impact at all, just from casual observation, they have a bonker yonkers amount of zines, so good time to be a Genshin zine fan.

Sorry this was so rambly, but I hope it helped!

tl;dr: Follow aafancalendar and ZineTown, apply for literally everything. Make sure to have a private friends server to build you back up after rejections (they will happen, sometimes zines have to reject even highly skilled ppl just for numbers reasons). Crying is allowed and encouraged, make sure to have snacks for either celebration or comfort after rejection.

#asks #zines #kind of rambling lol sorry

[lazying-in-bed]

Knowing How To Give

Lately since being more active about practicing mindfulness, Ive started to notice when Im negatively emotionally holding on to things. It could be anything, from being nervous towards strangers, perpetually feeling upset by certain friends, or holding resentment towards family members. Nowadays instead of doing my fun very awesome very cool method of ignoring and assuming it’ll go away with time, I like to figure out what to do with it!

Recently Ive been holding onto this negative perception revolving around what I felt people owed to me. I was becoming upset with many people in my life because I felt like even though I was putting energy into people, I wasnt getting that energy back. I was going around expending energy and expecting it to come back to me, like the world owed me for doing it a favor. Idk where I got this from, maybe some general social observation, but I had this philosophy that if I wanted something from the world, I had to put it into the world. And Im sure thats true sometimes, like being good to the Earth so that it continues being a nice habitual place for us, but Im also starting to see when it doesnt work.

Just because Im kind to someone doesnt mean that they owe me kindness back. What if they dont have the capacity, the energy to give that back to me? Sometimes people have valid reasons for that, like man living in a capitalist society is a whole energy-blackhole of itself, especially if you arent blessed enough to work from home often. I cant blame them for that. I can only blame myself for trying to extend myself in a way that leaves me feeling depleted and unbalanced. Not that I hate myself for it, I understand that I only do it because that’s just what Ive seemed to have learned up until now. Understanding this has led to the conclusion that I should only give to others either when I am at a surplus, or when I trust that I will receive a reciprocal amount of joy in return, due to my own personal surge of joy from the act of giving.

I think this is what people mean when they say that friendships arent transactional. I dont want to give people gifts because I expect them to give me a gift back. How would that make me any different than a manipulator? I want to give them gifts because they bring so much joy to me that Im overflowing with love and cant help but want to show my appreciation for them. I dont want to ask people how theyre doing just so that they can ask me about how Im doing, I want to ask them because Im interested to know about them! And if I want to share with them about how Im doing, I can just ask if they want to hear about it! I want to be kind to people not just because I want to be people to be kind to me, but also because I feel that people are worthy of kindness, and that I know what it’s like to be kind to and that I want to help others feel that as well.

And with that, I have started to let go of this heavy rock of a behavior and mindset, and have since begun to feel much lighter and forgiving towards the people around me, and to myself.

p.s. the tumblr mobile editor is wack so the spacing sometimes is also, wack, very ugly but im not sure what to do about it unless anyone has any suggestions ok ty bye

#journal blog

[watatsumiis]

I PICKED A WHOLE BUNCH AGAJAHS

⛔ Do you have a fic you started, but scrapped?

🙋‍♀️ Do any irl people know you write fanfiction?

💖 What made you start writing?

❌ What's a trope you will never write?

🤩 Who is your favorite character to write?

🎉 What leads you to consider a fic a success?

⌛ How long does it take you to write a fic, or a chapter?

WAHOOO TY :D

⛔ Do you have a fic you started, but scrapped?

So many. So so many. You would not believe the amount of scrapped or unfinished pieces that I've got in my drafts. Definitely more than what has been posted here for SURE.

🙋‍♀️ Do any irl people know you write fanfiction?

Yeah, I'm fairly open about it with my closest friends (who do like to clown on me for being a genshin impact fan and an anime boy enjoyer etc etc (all in good fun tho)) though I wouldn't tell them the name of my blog. My boyfriend knows of course, he often gets early admission to ideas and brainrots and drafts and access to the fics I'd never post online :3

💖 What made you start writing?

Not a point of bragging but I've always had a bit of a knack for writing, so as I began to fall behind in other subjects I kind of threw myself more into writing - a lot of it came about for coping reasons, just me seeking to make things that could comfort me when I was feeling down, ways to get certain ideas to stop rolling around in my head so much, or even ways to help me process things I was going through at big times in my life (even if I didn't realise it at the time - there are some fics I go back and read and realise ive unintentionally been mirroring real life things that were happening to me during that time).

I also am just a sort of. creative person in general, I do a lot of visual art but I find it takes a lot of spoons and mental energy that I just don't always have - I've been slowly learning to take more pride in my writing and the way it has improved over the years - sometimes I struggle to see my own writing as a 'valid' piece of art because I just... I find it almost... easy, if that makes sense? It takes less spoons and often feels like less thought so my brain kind of goes "ah yes I'm somehow cheating at this" and refuses to see it as a Real Piece of Media I Created. But I've been getting better!! So yeah I think I've always been a bit of a writer but I only really started getting into it around high school, and I only started posting it online super recently (this blog is the first time ive ever shared my writing with a wider audience!)

sorry for the mostly offtopic ramble aha im a little all over the place rn but yeah !! this was an interesting subject to think about ty <3

❌ What's a trope you will never write?

Honestly? There's genuinely not much i won't write. If I can find a way to spin it that'll get the brain juice flowing, I'm set. There are certain things I'd write that I'd never post, but that's a different kettle of fish entirely (thats such a strange phrase to me jkahsfd)

🤩 Who is your favorite character to write?

Childe and Itto are SO Fun to write, Childe for his general unhinged-ness, and Itto for his dialogue and himbo tendencies !! I'm enjoying writing Diavolo from om! for the same reasons honestly.

🎉 What leads you to consider a fic a success?

I like to clown to my bf about the notes and numbers and the like, like I'll say things like "oh damn tumblr is thirsty for diluc and not itto, how sad" but honestly numbers aren't something that phase me much - i think there are a few different aspects in which I feel like a fic of mine can be successful

The writing process - If i had fun writing it, thinking about it, and/or feel better/lighter for having written it, then it's a success in that aspect

Feedback - i try not to let too much hinge on this since it's such a finicky aspect but like. If i get positive feedback and comments on a piece, rest assured I've read every one about three times over. It makes me so happy to see others engage in my content, and to have people say things like "i needed this today" or "this made me smile" means more than any of you will ever ever know - writing is a source of comfort to me, and the fact that i'm able to share it and bring comfort to others as well is just. it makes me so so happy.

⌛ How long does it take you to write a fic, or a chapter?

Really depends on the inspiration level and how I'm rotating the ideas around in my brain - some pieces I can get the idea, then have it started and finished within one sitting, others I need some time to kind of sit on before a scenario comes to me. If it's something I'm particularly inspired for I can reach well over 1k words an hour. I don't really edit or proofread the pieces I post either, I just hit send and hope for the best (I've definitely come back to a piece weeks later to realise there's been a typo in it the whole time, oops)

#asks #general barks #thanks so much for sending these in !! they were rly fun to answer oooo #general howls

[multiverse-of-mischief]

missed a day so catching up!

24 April:

How did your fine motor skills develop? Were you one of the first kids who could tie their shoe laces or do you think you'll probably never learn it? This is an "open question", if you want to ramble, start rambling.

i couldn't tie my laces for quite a long time, though i eventually learned when i was about 9 i think, im still not great at it though and it takes me longer than other people haha! honestly i don't remember much to do with buttons or anything else, but i do know about handwriting.

i have always struggled with handwriting, it used to be really big (and i also wrote in all capitals) for longer than it should have been lol, i eventually got "alright" handwriting when i was like 12 maybe? i could never do cursive as a kid, ever, although now it can be a stim for me and distract me from things because of the concentration and effort it takes. my writing is now legible (most of the time) and if i try really hard, it can be neat for like a couple lines lol. when i need to be faster or don't care as much, my writing is all over the place but still legible and it takes me a bit longer than the average slow writing person, i almost got exam accommodations for this, but it was just too fast which was very frustrating because i then had to push myself writing in exams 🙄

i can actually write super small if i want to, im usually the only one that can properly read it because of how small it is lol, i often did that on worksheets in class

writing really hurts my hand and ive never had good pen posture, i end up with callouses on my ring finger knuckle because of how hard i push haha, my ex used to try and hold a pen like i do and she couldn't do it at all, no one really knows how i ended up doing it (i swear it's not even that weird) but i can't hold it any other way. i also struggle with the pressure of my pen and i push too hard, which ends up making my lettering harder to read because of the thick lines (i tend to write pretty small now actually unless im really rushing). overall, writing hurts and i don't like it, i also need to bend over so im like 5cm away from the paper or i can't write properly, no idea what that's about but i used to lay on my desk while writing a lot in school lmao. it's strange because i really love drawing! i do struggle with the same things though (pushing too hard, muscle pain after a short amount of time, etc)

25 April:

How did your gross motor skills develop? Did you walk early or did you struggle to walk (if you can walk)? Do you have a bad posture? This is another "open question".

i learned to walk really early! i skipped over the crawling stage too, just went straight from tummy shuffling to walking lol

while i can walk well (in terms of motor abilities, im leaving pain and fatigue out of this), i struggle to walk slowly; i see myself as kinda like a bicycle haha, i need to walk at a certain minimum pace or i start to topple. i don't know how to describe why other than just my feet don't move automatically when i walk slow and i have to think about each step, i trip over my own feet and lose my balance a bit. i also tend to bump into people a lot and can't walk in a straight line very well (yay poor proprioception lol); my ex used to say that id never convinced people i wasn't drunk lmao and i have to agree, i wouldn't believe myself either honestly [lighthearted, self teasing]

my posture has always been awful i think, although ive gone through phases of having amazing posture from constant conscious effort (i think i was trying to copy my favourite character lol) but that ended up really hurting my back and taking too much mental energy so i stopped.

similarly with walking slowly, i struggle to stay standing still and often need to lean on something like a wall or i'll start to stumble and topple over. as i said in a previous post, i do actually have good balance, i guess i just have to focus on it more or something, strange bodies.

oh, throwing too! i can catch well (and really enjoy it, i loved practicing catching a ball in class) but when it comes to throwing the ball back...yeah. i don't know what it is about it, my arm just doesn't listen to me properly lol, my teachers got very frustrated with me for that and honestly i got frustrated with myself! i really wanted to play cricket and dodgeball so it sucks that i lack a crucial skill for them :(

this could just be down to my amnesia but ive also struggled with swimming, i find it difficult but manage to learn after a while, and then when i try again, im back to square one! my family is baffled and often don't actually believe me that ive forgotten. again, it's one that im pretty upset about because i enjoy swimming despite the sensory difficulties of after getting out

#thinking about that i actually have no idea how i wasnt told off for laying and writinflg #*writing #sorry this one seems a little more negative #my motor skills mean i cant do a lot of the things i want to and have been something ive been teased and ridiculed for #i tried to make it more lighthearted but that was hard for some aspects #equinox rambles #drunk mention #cw drunk #30daysofautismacceptance #2023 #im not sure if it needs a warning but better safe than sorry! #i know how triggering alcohol and drunkenness can be so just in case :)

[srlkiller]

Have you ever thought that maybe ur more sick than u think and maybe it’s actually u that’s the issue… might be something to think about

OK SO i hav a million asks in my inbox but this 1 is so beyond ignorant & passive aggressive for quite literally no reason bc why are u so invested in my life for…? lmao.

have u ever thought that maybe u don’t actually know me or anything that’s going on in my real life.. whether it is the shit that i am currently going through (which is numerous forms of abuse by my parents) or all of the things that have happened in my past.. im talking about in REAL LIFE. bc this is the internet.. a literal blog site where i randomly type things whenever im either really heated or bored as shit. n that’s rare now. this year n probably last year too i posted rants like.. give or take, every like… 3-6 months (if that). so u either got this whole image, ideology & ‘persona’ of me from a blog site.. or the very very few sporadic Insta stories i post which are mainly songs i like, memes or funny vids reposted? lmao.. i don’t post on my own Insta anymore. i literally only use youtube or zeus network now & i actually hav a private tumblr that only i can see. this 1 doesn’t get used, u must hav missed wen i posted about that :(( anyone who knows me/has known me irl.. or has been following me for a while knows that im a very open person.. & ive been open for YEARS on this dumb ass blog (which clearly ur privy too… bc u read my posts n lurk my page lmao 🫠)the whole “have u ever thought that ur ‘more sick than u think” is such an ignorant fucking statement. like.. i know exactly what is ‘wrong’ w me & im actually perfectly fine as long as i do not get triggered by certain people in my environment (which is the issue at hand among others with that same individual & other family). as ive aged & gone through so much these past 5/6 years i have grown & evolved so much as a person that whatever ‘persona’ you seem to have of me being ‘sick’ doesn’t exist today… unless you’re referring to my physical health issues? then yes ive been sick these past 2 weeks & do get ‘physically sick’ quite often due to my chronic severe physical health conditions.

ive been more than transparent (probably too transparent tbh) on here as well as my Instagram for many many years about my mental health issues + physical health issues. all of my conditions/disorders are chronic conditions that i have to live & deal w for the rest of my life.. so things like 4eva tryna find the right treatments for EVERY condition, spending thousands on operations, doctors, specialists, hospitals, medications that don’t work or give you awful side effects, meds that do work but cost hundreds, meds that are addicting with no warning from the doctors ect ect but the biggest thing of all is simply just tryna function each day like a normal human being whilst being in a very toxic environment with zero support, love or care from those who are supposed to nurture & protect you. so yeah sometimes i do get fucking angry, frustrated n upset about that shit n just wanna rant on here about my feelings. there are certain things i share on here wen i hav no one else 2talk too.. im an only child & hav gone thru sm shit with past ‘friends’ & exs in such a short amount of time i could truly write a whole book or movie script on it all. but instead i write things on here. it made me go absolutely crazy then turn into a total paranoid recluse. it was a soul destroying experience but one of the most powerful life lessons to be able to learn. it made me who i am today n changed me completely.

BUT- n real life tho.. you really do not know my situation.. you do not know me.. & you do not know what i deal with on a daily fucking basis. id love to see u try n live even jus a day as me irl...u would 100% neck urself before the day was even over. im not stupid.. i research everything when it comes to my conditions & diagnosis’s. i also studied psychology & did a major in forensic psychology while doing a bachelor of law & justice. ive studied the DSM-5, done every kind of therapy & treatment plan you can imagine. ive been in treatment since i was like 11/12. i understand myself very well. the mental health conditions that i have are a direct result of childhood trauma & several kinds of abuse by my parents from childhood all the way up to now.. if u are that interested in me & my life then perhaps u should google all of those conditions & do some research on them to gain a better understanding of the hows, why’s & whats. that’s called knowledge baby, u should gain some🖤 & perhaps u should consider going straight to the actual source… whatever it is u wanna know, just ask me.

what’s super interesting is that i took my tumblr link off my Insta a long time ago so it’s like bro.. did you just memorise my tumblr name so u can keep coming back to the page to lurk then send me a sassy little message to jab at me every couple months …. orrrr do you follow me but ur really that pussy that you put ur shit on anonymous? tbh both options are pitiful & just scream.. U A BITCH. people like you are all bark.. n no bite. it’s giving stalkerish fan vibes… this has been going on for like over a year now.. maybe even longer, idek. why not come off ANONYMOUS tho? why not just dm me if u feel so strongly about the issue n are so invested in this shitshow? u seem to hav a lot to say to me n id LUV to hear it! u got some suggestions for me? u got the answers? suggestions for self help books? shiiiiid… we could even talk on the phone if u want? u got FaceTime on yo fone?

if u don’t hav my Insta I’d b happy to giv it to you.. jus send me some asks on anonymous u know how to do that. looking forward to hearing back from u & getting to know u better! hope i quenched ur thirst xxx

[unpaid-teenage-therapist]

i dont like being miserable. i dont like laying in bed blasting music and scrolling through pinterest while barely even stoned, saving pins of other people being happy to boards i make to fulfill my feeling of longing for something ive never even had. i had one summer, a couple months with a few people that just so happened to complete reroute the path of my life and change who i was completely. im forever grateful for it, of course, and surprised at how much we managed to do in such little time.

we got arrested, had parties, went to the hospital, fell asleep on the roof, rode up to the cemetery on scooters, became possibly the worst homie hoppers to ever exist, and blasted lil peep and other emo ass shit the whole time.

my music taste, my style, my hair, my face, my voice, my entire identity became someone i barely recognize in the span of a few months. it was slow enough at the time for me to not have noticed, but now its all i can see. all i can see is then and now, and small bits in between. fuzzy memory, "because of all the drugs i do" according to my dad. i wouldnt admit it to him, but hes not wrong. even if he was joking, im not.

i can definitely say i like who i am now better than who i was before, but do i even know who i am? like, seriously?

i feel like ive created so many different versions of myself to keep everyone happy that i have no idea who i am. i know what i like, and things i do, and people i love and care for, but im very selective on who i tell what and theres very few people who see all different sides of me. not in a fake way, because none of it is me lying—i simply dont share some opinions i have with some people, or only tell others certain things instead. more like hiding i guess.

i like monster trucks. i like reading, and writing. i like anime, even though i dont watch it as often as i used to. i like comics, digital especially. i like art, of all forms. i love listening to music of almost all genres. i like collections, especially at the moment of pins, crystals, stickers, anything witch related, and stoner stuff. speaking of which, i do drugs (and no im not flexing that, im simply stating it as a fact). i smoke, and drink, and take things i probably shouldnt only 12 hours before im supposed to go work for my grandfather all day. i like coloring in childrens coloring books with kids stuff like crayons and big markers. i like having the lights on, especially my xmas lights that i have bordering my tapestry. i like trying different fashions, and styles of clothing. i like finding new songs to listen to and enjoying nostalgia from older music. i like beanies, and putting pins on them. i like accessorizing, wearing more than a necessary amount of rings and necklaces and bracelets. i like cool socks, with completely random things like tacos and eggs or aesthetic tye dye colors with marijuana leaves. i like the idea of skating, despite not knowing how to do so. i like facetiming, no matter how much i hate seeing my own face i love seeing other people's. i like random hang outs, where we have no plan and make it up as we go. i like giving, no matter who its to or what it is. im a lover, i love hard and deep and fall quite fast and unexpectedly. i show love with physical affection, such as hugs, kisses (not exclusively on the lips/sexually), hand holding, other forms of touch, and with gifts, as a way to physically show my appreciation with something someone could look at and hopefully think of me when they see it. i take thousands of pictures and videos of people, from my closest friends to absolute strangers, because having those memories is so important to me. i want to have a kid one day, maybe multiple. i want to get married. i want to have a car, and learn to drive. i want to professionally babysit (as in for someone other than my mother or a family friend), as thats my dream job, even if only for a while. i want to find a career, in hopefully something related to writing or something i enjoy. i want to work somewhere that makes me happy, even if its a mcdonalds drive thru. i want to go to college, have poloroids of my friends and lover/s hanging above my bed with string lights and posters scattered on the wall. i want to go to parties, to hold back people's hair when theyre throwing up, to have to call an uber to take me home as my ride left early and im too intoxicated to get myself home safely on public transit. i want to take road trips to finally meet people ive had to love from the other side of the screen for so long. i want to have one of those extremely sappy videos of us falling to the floor from how fast we run into each other, holding each other and not letting go. i want to have my phone wallpaper be us holding hands, or hugging, or kissing, or anything. i want to go on all my dream dates, and finally do the one thing ive put on every bucket list since i was a kid—skydive.

all of that seemed so out of reach before i met him. hes the one whos finally truly began to bring me out of this dark place, whos finally showing me that i deserve love and all the things ive longed for in a person my entire life. ive of course wanted to live for people before, but he makes me want to live not only for him (and other loved ones), but for myself. he makes me want to live just to live.

#personal vent #kind of became a love ramble at the end so my bad #doesnt make a lot of sense but putting my thoughts into words

[nevertheless-moving]

Suicidal Misunderstanding IX

Star Wars Time Travel AU #27

Part I - - - - - Part II - - - - - Part III - - - - - Part IV  - - - Part V - - - - - Part VI - - - - - Part VII - - - - - Part VIII

Content Warning: This chapter contains potentially triggering material, particularly aftermath of attempted suicide as well as discussions of bodily injury.

Cody woke up the morning after the...drunken keldabe still feeling uneasy. He spent half an hour attempting to read over reports in preparation for the Umbaran campaign before giving it up as a lost cause. He distracted himself for a little while by pouring over last night’s cantina surveillance, before giving up on that as well and sending a message to General Skywalker.

‘Any updates on General Kenobi’s status?’

He watched the comms as communications from everyone besides the General trickled in. He answered a few requests for requisitions, forwarded some medical reports, and ignored an irritating handful of overly-personal questions. 

Agonizing over it the whole time, he opened a comm-text link to Obi-Wan. It took nearly an hour, but he managed to send two sentences. ‘Hope you’re recovering well. Look forward to upcoming mission discussion.’

He immediately wanted to retroactively delete the message, mortified by every word and deeply concerned at every second that passed without a reply.

He spent the next 30 minutes hunched over, quickly closing every incoming CT and CC communication, justifying the time to himself as ‘technically on leave.’

He lurched forward when he finally received a General’s comm code, but slumped in disappointment when it was Skywalker, not Kenobi.

‘Not as drunk but still seems a little high. He says he wasn’t drugged. He’s taking the rest of the day off. I’m monitoring.’

Taking the rest of the day off. Did that mean he wasn’t carrying around his comm? Kriff. Should he more or less concerned that the general was actually taking a day off?

He decided to be more concerned.

‘Thank you for the update. Respectfully request information on any changes.’

Hopefully that would encourage Skywalker to keep him informed even if he stopped freaking out over his vod’s behavior.

Stowing the remote comm, he stood up and exited the temporary planet-side office, throwing himself into cleaning up the mess that was nearly 20,000 clone troopers simultaneously attempting to get the most out of a very brief R&R. 

Shortly before mid-day, he received another update from Skywalker.

‘Just managed to get him to medical. Healer cleared him of drug interactions but Obi-Wan’s still acting strange (not crying, but a lot of hugging).’

Cody stared at that for a long while.

‘Any other verbal indications of upcoming danger?’ he finally asked. Skywalker didn’t reply. 

Shortly after nightfall, his incident reports were interrupted by a call from an unknown temple number. He quickly opened it, and a holo of an unfamiliar Mon Calamari female healer appeared in miniature on the desk.

“Commander Cody. Thank you for answering so quickly. Are you somewhere private?” she asked, voice deliberately neutral.

The Commander tensed up. “Yes, sir. I’m in CC office space, alone. The room and the channel are both secure. Is this regarding General Kenobi?”

“Yes.” She replied. “My name is Master Bant Eerin; I’m a temple healer as well as a personal friend of Obi-Wan’s. He’s...he’s in the healing halls right now. We’re still trying to understand exactly what happened- I’ll tell you what I can but first we need to rule out any possible drugs he may have contact with. I need you to describe in detail anything he may have been exposed to that could have possibly had mind-altering effects.”

The Commander was a professional. He swallowed back his fear, his questions, and his demands to know what was going on.

“Of course. Everything on the Negotiator was GAR Standard, and I was with him when we left the ship. We went directly to the lower levels. The first time he was exposed to anyone outside the 212th was when we left our transport on level 3915. I...actually have footage of him the whole time night after that point. I’m sending it over right now, sir.”

“That would be extremely helpful, thank you.” He watched as she pulled it up on a second comm, sound barely audible. 

He continued with his report: “One of the boys took it without permission. He didn’t mean anything by it, he’s just an idiot; I’ve already issued a severe reprimand. In any case, he brought it to me after I issued surveillance on the cantina, it tracks everything the General did- as far as I can tell, he had a glass of house grub wine, two shots of rancor blood, and an unnamed mixed cocktail ‘on the house.’ You can see everything the bartender added- as far as I can tell nothing was slipped in. He just... blacked out suddenly after the fourth drink, and quickly startled awake, confused by his surroundings.”

“I see.” Her tone was still carefully neutral and Cody didn’t know how to read her expression. He waited, wishing he was wearing his bucket so he didn’t have to keep schooling his face into professional patience.

“You brought him back to the temple...correct?” 

“Yes, sir.”

She let out a deep breath, gills fluttering slightly. “We’ll probably have more questions later, but please understand our inquires are entirely based around determining how we can best help Obi-Wan. This call and any future ones are not intended, and should absolutely not be interpreted, as indications of blame. He’s actually spoken to me about you before, I know he has the deepest respect for you, personally and professionally. Someone will likely be assigned to talk to everyone whose spent time with him recently, including myself.”

The sick feeling in his gut from last night returned full force. “I...believe I understand sir. His condition is serious, then?”

Her gills fluttered again.

“Even now, I think we can safely anticipate a full physical recovery. He...there’s no easy way to say this...it appears he attempted to end his own life. Knight Skywalker got to him just in time, and he received bacta within minutes of the initial burn. I...like I said...we’ll began work to figure out why-”

Her voice broke and she stared up, large tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. She hastily wiped them away.

“Rest assured commander, he’s getting the best treatment possible. Thank you for your assistance. I’ll do my best to answer any questions you might have right now. This is my personal comm link- please feel free to reach out to me at any point for updates.”

“I-” Cody cleared his throat. “Can I come to the temple? To...” he trailed off, not sure how to finish.

“Not tonight, I’m sorry. The healers need to focus; he’s not allowed any visitors until he’s out of Bacta, I’m afraid.”

“Skywalker must be throwing a fit at that” Cody remarked numbly.

The healer winced. “Knight Skywalker is currently sedated. He was...injured in the struggle to keep Obi-Wan from further harm. Master Windu witnessed part of it, but we’ll have to wait until its safe to wake him to get the full story. I’ll be notifying Captain Rex of the situation after we finish speaking.”

“I’ll do it.” Cody offered immediately. “Tell me what happened.”

Eerin hesitated. 

“Please, Sir. It will be better coming from me and...if he’s the only other trooper who’s being informed at the moment...”

“Of course,” she said quietly. “We don’t know the full circumstances, but at some point in performing emergency care for Master Kenobi, Knight Skywalker was stabbed in the lower abdomen with a vibroblade. It pierced his large intestine. The blade was pulled out shortly before healers arrived, causing some further damage and blood loss. He’s already finished surgery, and should only need a few hours of Bacta at most. Considering his extraordinary past recovery rates, he’ll likely be out of bed tomorrow and fully healed by the end of the week.”

“General Kenobi wouldn’t...” Cody trailed off again. He was having a hard time putting coherent sentences together.

Bant looked at the ceiling for a moment, seeming to collect her thoughts.

“Psychosis can have many manifestations. Even with- with conventional injuries, people can mistake help for harm. There’s just too much we don’t understand, and only so much we can learn before they wake up. Are you certain you wish to be the one to inform Captain Rex?”

“Yes.” That was about the only thing the Commander was certain of right now. “Is there anyone else in the GAR I should inform of...anything?”

“The military aspect of this isn’t my area of expertise. If there’s someone you trust who can be a support for you, I don’t see why you shouldn’t be able to tell them in confidence. Some form of what happened is going to get out eventually.” she replied. “Please use your discretion, I suppose. It’s...not really my speciality but I imagine you’ll receive further orders on how much to release to the GAR once Obi-Wan’s stable.”

Right. Discretion. Because Obi-Wan wasn’t just Obi-Wan- he was a high general in charge of nearly 1/3 of the republic’s forces. If word of this got out to the wrong ears it would cause mass panic, maybe even an emboldened separatist advance. It was an insane amount of responsibility for one person, no wonder - he deliberately didn’t finish the thought.

“I’ll comm the Captain immediately. Thank you for the information, General.” he said out loud.

“Feel free to contact me for further updates, and tell Captain Rex he’s welcome to do the same. I’ll message you when its clear to visit the halls.”

“Yes, Sir.” Cody responded, saluting automatically. 

“Take care of yourself, Commander Cody”

The hologram blinked out. Cody sat motionless for several long moment before sweeping his desk off, sending the assorted flimsies and redundant comm-units of various designations to the ground.

He stared at the empty desk, then tapped a button on his wrist comm, opening a private audio channel. “CT-7567, please come in” he said calmly.

“Cody?” came the alarmed reply. “I’m here, what’s going on?” Why did he sound so panicked? He had deliberately used his calmest voice. Oh well.

“Please report immediately to CC Office 12 in Guard Headquarters”

“I’ll be there in 10″

Cody hung up. He stared at the blank wall. He knew something was wrong with how the General said goodbye.

He opened the single desk drawer and dumped the odd wires and coins inside to the floor. Eerin had said burn. That could mean a lot of things, but lightsaber was the most likely. 

Cody puked profusely into the empty drawer. He stared at the vomit for a moment before carefully closing the drawer. He still felt a little sick. He hadn’t even said anything back to the General, he just stood there, frozen. 

He stared vaguely at the wall across, wondering if he was going to puke again.

Rex burst into the room. “Cody! What’s going on?! You- kark, what is that smell?”

“I puked in the desk drawer” Cody explained.

Rex shut the door behind him and slowly walked over. He knelt down next to the desk, gently taking Cody’s hands in this own. “Cody. Vod. Talk to to me.” 

“Obi-Wan tried to kill himself.”

Rex’s hands tightened over Cody’s compulsively and Cody squeezed back harder. He closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to look at Rex’s expression.

“Some of ghost company went out for drinks last night. Obi-Wan started acted oddly. We flew towards the temple. He started crying. We got to the temple. He Keldabe kissed me. He told me goodbye. I didn’t say anything back.”

“Oh, vod” Rex whispered. He gently pulled the slack Cody off the chair and onto his lap on the floor. Cody continued mechanically. “I did reports today. Skywalker said he was with him. I left Obi-Wan a message. I don’t think he saw it. He tried to kill himself. Skywalker must have left him alone. He saved him. Obi-Wan stabbed Skywalker.”

Rex froze, still holding on to Cody. 

“The healer called. Asked about drugs. They don’t think its drugs but they had to ask. She said they’re both going to heal completely fine. I have a link if you want to call the healer directly. That’s...it. I have reports to do now.”

Rex held Cody tighter. “Not right now”

“It’s war. People get hurt. People die. I have work to do”

“Not right now,” Rex repeated. “You have the right to be upset. You have the right to grieve. You’re a person, of course you have feelings.”

“Obi-Wan said that.” Cody whispered. Then he started crying. He continued to quietly sob for some time, hurt and bewildered and scared. They sat on the floor together; Rex barely moved, simply held on to his older brother as he fell apart.

Inevitably, Cody’s tears dried up and he pulled away. 

“I don’t know how to clean this,” he said gesturing at that closed drawer. 

“I’ll take care of it. Let’s just get you to bed. There’s CC bunks here, right? 

“Yes but...”

Cody didn’t really like sleeping so isolated, but he also couldn’t imagine facing the 212th right now. 

“I’ll stay here with you. We’ll go to the temple together in the morning.”

Rex shepherded Cody to the fresher. He stared at the mirror with a vague sense of recognition before automatically moving through a standard sanitation routine. By the time he finished, Rex had joined him in his room.

“What did you do with the vomit?” Cody asked, suddenly exhausted. They slipped into bed together.

“Swapped the whole desk with Pond’s. That bastard knows what he did.”

Cody let out a snort. Then, much to his surprise, he sank heavily into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Part X

#star wars #my au #suicidal misunderstanding au #star wars au no 27 #potentially triggering #attempted suicide #injury #all off screen this chapter #character is not actually suicidal but is severely divorced from reality due to space wizard plot device #starwars #codywan #angst #fanfic

[hongism]

mists of celeste ➻ 35

➻ pairing: ??? x fem reader ➻ genre: space au, pirate au, space pirate!ateez, angst, smut ➻ Word Count: 13.0k ➻ Rating: M ➻ Warnings: language, violence, guns and weaponry, blood, future warnings tba chapter specific warnings: mentions of past abuse, violence, anxiety    ➻ summary: Sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you

⇐ previous | next ⇒ | masterlist

✧✧✧ act five ➻ part two

​​​​

It is nearing nightfall by the time you all return to the ship. Yunho has already gotten Hongjoong settled in the medbay with Jongho’s help, as well as set him up with an oxygen mask and an IV, and to be frank, the sight of the infamous pirate captain splayed out so helplessly was hard to see. Whatever you were feeling must have been increased tenfold for the man who stood at your side during the whole process because you could feel the panic oozing off his bones, a nagging sensation that fell on you as well. As much as he tried to help, Yunho asked him to let him and Jongho take care of it, and Seonghwa caved with a surprising amount of haste. For better or worse, you don’t have to stay long there before Seonghwa is pulling you out to head up to the main airlock. It can only be worse because of who is waiting for you there: none other than Han Jisung come to join the crew for inexplicable reasons unbeknownst to you right now. And that is why you shift to look at Seonghwa’s sharp side profile as the two of you walk to join Yeosang in waiting by the airlock.

“Why are we bringing him aboard?”

“We need Jisung for information, and it will be less of a hassle to have him aboard,” Seonghwa explains through a clipped sigh. “I don’t trust the man as far as I can throw him, but… at least I can keep an eye on him this way.”

“Why can’t we just have Wooyoung help us through the dreams instead?”

Seonghwa glances over at you, and your eyes meet for the briefest of moments before he looks forward once more.

“We don’t know how to communicate with him yet,” Seonghwa explains. His tone is a bit more gentle this time, nothing goading or forced but rather a genuine attempt to ease some of your bubbling anxieties. “You can’t talk to him, ask him questions, or consistently control his body long enough to figure out where they’re being held. Besides, they are locked in a cell, and you can’t very well ask a guard where they are. Until we learn more about this situation and your connection to each other, this is the best course of action.”

“Would Hongjoong let him on the ship?” You inquire. You can already assume the answer, and you’re only asking for some sort of confirmation that this is a bad idea, but Seonghwa presses his lips together to form a thin line.

“Hongjoong would understand how critical the situation at hand is.”

“Would you let him walk away without a fight too?” It is a bit out of line and far too bitter, but the words are already out of your mouth before you can stop yourself. Seonghwa freezes in place, steps coming to a sudden halt whilst you just continue walking as though you didn’t say a word. You can feel the way his eyes glare holes into the back of your head, and the twinge in your chest that pains your heart surely does not come from you. A wave of pain hits you as you turn to look Seonghwa in the eye.

“Hongjoong is different,” he whispers. “You know that. It isn’t that I don’t love or care about you, because I do. I feel both those things when it comes to you, in ways I can’t even begin to describe, which is why I want you to be happy and have a chance at freedom.”

“With someone whom you don’t trust or know?”

“You know and trust him yourself, do you not?” Seonghwa counters without missing a beat. “Am I supposed to decided who you trust now? Was it not you who told me that I didn’t need to worry about you? Shouldn’t doubt your abilities? I’ve already told you that I am not happy about this situation at all, but still I will not decide this for you, even if you ask me to.”

“Then what am I supposed to think? Right now it feels like you only want me gone so you can feel less guilty about going back to Hongjoong at the end of the day.” You turn on your heel, fully prepared to leave him standing there on his own in the heat of your unreasonable annoyance. Seonghwa closes the distance between your bodies with a surprising haste and grabs hold of your wrist, spinning you back around to face him in no time. You hardly have time to breathe before he’s knocking the air out of you by pressing you up against the wall of the corridor. You know what’s coming next before it happens, and it’s for that exact reason that you dip your chin to the side as Seonghwa moves in to plant his lips atop yours.

A dry and emotionless laugh escapes his lips instead, and you stare at the floor with eyes burning more than ever. Seonghwa slams a hand down hard on the space of metal beside your head.

“I should never have been selfish with you,” he mutters. You try not to think about how much bitterness his tone holds. “That was a mistake on my part. There is no security or certainty in a life like ours, nothing I can provide that would give you either of those things. I’m sorry for making you believe that I could ever give you something as certain as that.”

A thought dashes across the forefront of your mind, one that tells you to swallow the hurt nagging at your chest and take comfort in his body instead, but it doesn’t last long. You know better, and you know it wouldn’t fix anything in the long run. It will only make it harder on both of you if you let yourselves get any more attached before your inevitable demise that ends in you leaving with Jisung.

“Do you regret this?” Your voice could not possibly be more quiet than it is now. You lift a shaky hand to his chest, pressing your palm hard against the spot that now emanates the most pain. “Getting close and such?” Seonghwa shifts to place his hand over yours but hesitates at the last second. His lips twist into a strained smile.

“I do, but only because it is ending with you in pain. No, I don’t regret any of the time I spent with you, and I still mean everything I told you. Perhaps this is for the best. I am content with the time I got to spend with you, and I won’t ask for anything more than that.”

“All I wanted you to do was stop me,” you plea as though it will make him change his mind right here and now.

“There’s nothing to stop yet, Y/N.”

“Do you need me to show you how badly I don’t want to go for you to stop me?” Seonghwa exhales a deep heave of air and pulls away from you.

“What do you want more than anything else?”

“San back safely.” Seonghwa barely finishes his question by the time you’re answering, but in your mind, there is no need for any sort of hesitation. If Seonghwa is surprised at all, he doesn’t let it slip through; all he does is smile back at you. You only realize your mistake after the fact, stuttering in your next rush to speak. “A-And Mingi and W-Wooyoung as well.”

“What about after that then?”

His question doesn’t stump you because you don’t know the answer. You know what it is you want when this is all over. You want to rest, to stop running, for all this mess to be done with, and you don’t want to have to worry about your safety at every turn. You don’t want to wake up in a cold sweat afraid that the people you care about could be dead. You desperately want peace, but you aren’t brave enough to make the sacrifices that will get you there. Even so, there is no way you could admit it now because that would only make Seonghwa right.

“Your silence is answer enough for me.”

“That isn’t what I want with Jisung though,” you insist. “He is my past, not my future. I never let myself imagine a scenario in which I would see him again. I’ve made it this far with you all. I don’t want to leave you behind now. And even after we get the others back, I still won’t want to leave them behind either.”

“That may be the case, Y/N, but it’s — the truth of the matter is that no matter what, my first duty will always be to protect Hongjoong as his lieutenant. Perhaps that is why those lingering feelings of love are still present, but it also means that I don’t know if I can give you my love and promise to stop loving him as well. That’s — that’s beside the point though.” Seonghwa shakes his head, hand coming up to comb through his dark locks for a second before dropping back to his side. “If how I feel about Hongjoong is something you aren’t okay with, then I don’t want you to wait on me or my feelings. That isn’t what I want for you. However, this conversation can continue another time. We’ve kept Yeosang waiting long enough.”

There isn’t an opportunity to say anything more because Seonghwa steps away and returns to walking down the corridor without even waiting to see if you’ll follow. You have to jog to catch up with his broad strides, falling into step beside him with a bit more hesitance in your movements this time.

“Has… has Jisung learned anything yet?”

“The person behind all of this is still not guaranteed. Vladimir was merely an instrument for these plans, but according to Jisung, he said that there would be a special exchange on Dorado for Mingi and the others. Since you were originally the one they wanted, there is still uncertainty about what they plan to do with Wooyoung and San. Mingi, on the other hand, is set to be sent to a recreational facility on Dorado that specializes in Berserker training for pirate and bandit crews. They plan to reprogram him back into – into the Brute of Kebos, at which point he will be sent back to Vladimir. That’s apparently the bargain he made to agree to this plan. You were the prize meant for the other party but obviously, that fell through.”

“Why me of all people? With all the people on this ship, why am I significant in the slightest? Especially on Dorado of all places?”

Seonghwa shakes his head from side to side.

“Vladimir didn’t mention anything in the past few meetings Jisung has attended. We don’t even have the slightest clue as to why they want you, and still no word on who these people even are. Of course, the Ghost of Eros is valuable, there’s no doubt about that, but not this far from Eros and the Aurum system. And they certainly wouldn’t go to these lengths to get you.” His words die there, voice falling flat along with the sentence, and you watch him in silence for several seconds before he shifts to place a gentle hand on your shoulder. “It is evident that someone in the universe is looking for you, and they are taking great risks to get you.”

“They will have to try a lot harder than that if they want me.”

Seonghwa blinks back at you, eyes perceptive and searching as always. He seems to figure something out at that moment because his stare widens a bit before dropping to the floor without a word.

“What’s wrong?” You inquire, leaning closer to look at his face better.

“Nothing. Just a hunch. I’ll let you know if it becomes a concern later.” He shrugs off the concern and lets his hand fall off your shoulder to motion down the corridor. Yeosang has surely grown impatient by now, and it’s that thought that causes your steps and Seonghwa’s to increase in pace to meet him at the airlock. Only, once you finally reach that place, you find that he is not alone, and Jisung stands directly across from the taller blond, starkly out of place in front of Yeosang. You don’t need to visibly see Yeosang’s expression to know that the Elitist is glaring at Jisung – it’s evident in the way Yeosang speaks through his body with the tense shoulders and crossed arms, chin inclined just enough to be condescending, yet Jisung doesn’t seem phased by the man in the slightest. In fact, he just turns to you, eyes bright as ever, and grins from ear to ear like a Cheshire.

“Hey, little lady.” Something in the way he speaks those words with that smile that is branded on your brain and hand quickly darting out in your direction triggers a memory you didn’t know you had.

“Stop being a fucking idiot! You know I’m better than you, don’t you?” A hand stretches out towards you, writhing forward like a snake in the darkness, and you flinch away from the touch despite knowing that the man won’t lay a hand on you. “The next person who dares to say that to you will die a painful death.”

“J-Jisung?”

“I don’t care what kind of monster I become in their eyes. If I go to hell, so be it. They touch you, they die. Those are the rules, aren’t they? If anyone other than me lays a single finger on you…” Jisung trails off, lips twisting into a smile that is far too cruel for his gentle and precious features. “I will deliver a slow and deliberate death to each of them.”

Jisung’s hand is about to brush over your wrist – the one that bears the brand of your betrayal – when Yeosang steps between your body and his, hand coming up to knock Jisung’s own out of the way.

“It would be best for you to not cause any issues while you’re here,” the Elitist murmurs. He cocks his head to the side, maintaining that cruel and cocky air about his shoulders as he looks down at Jisung. “I’m not one for forgiveness, and you are merely here as a guest. Someone who isn’t important to the crew and has no place here. You would do well to remember that before trying to lay a hand on anyone in the crew.”

A scowl overtakes Jisung’s expression, and the man steps back to put some distance between himself and Yeosang.

“I knew her for five years. Perhaps you are the one who needs to remember your place, no?” Jisung jerks his chin forward a bit. “Or does the Royal Betrayer still think he has some impact and power over others?”

Yeosang might have lunged straight through Jisung’s throat for that comment if not for the way Seonghwa rushes to clamp his hand down hard on the man’s shoulder. He tugs Yeosang back with as much force as he can, but the simmering expression of anger on the lieutenant’s features is directed solely at Jisung.

“I would advise you to watch your mouth, Han. As acting caption, I decide your place on this ship, and that is as a guest. We need you for the time being but not in the long run, thus you ought to learn your place and remember that well.” Seonghwa plasters a stretched grin over his lips. “Now, if you would please follow me to the bridge, we can discuss in more detail the plans moving forward.”

He motions past Yeosang’s shoulder to the corridor leading to the bridge, but Jisung’s only response is to continue staring at you without saying anything for several seconds. Seonghwa’s gaze flits over to Yeosang, and the pair exchange a discreet nod before Yeosang shifts in your direction. His hand finds your arm, clamping down hard on the skin as he moves to pull you along, but another hand snakes out to push between the two of you.

“Is it not common courtesy amongst royalty to ask a lady before touching her?” Jisung bears a smile but venom drips from his tone in a way that sends shivers down your spine.

“I hate the military. Every single general and commander is corrupt beyond belief. There’s no circle in hell low enough for them. But those higher-ups? The royals who sit on their thrones and sip their expensive wine while prancing around like utter fools as the rest of us folk suffer and die on the streets… they’re the worst scum in the entire universe.”

Jisung has never liked people in positions of power, but his incessant rants about royals were always the worst to sit through because he could go on for hours and hours. Thus, it doesn’t surprise you to see him bearing such a disdain for Yeosang. Even so, you do find it a bit odd seeing as Yeosang is hardly in a position of power now, and he is no longer a royal so there isn’t much he could do with that nonexistent power.

“Think you can just take anything for yourself, is that it?”

“Han Jisung,” Seonghwa hisses, teeth so tightly pressed together that the air whistles through them. “I have no qualms tying you to a chair in the brig and extracting information from you that way. You should consider me to be merciful because if Scourge were here, he would have already dragged you there by your ankles. Learn your place before I force you to.”

One corner of Jisung’s lips tugs upwards as he grins at the lieutenant.

“Aye, aye, acting Captain.”

You can breathe easy again after that thankfully because Seonghwa manages to tug Jisung down the hall without any further disturbances. Yeosang stands completely still and watches the two retreat without saying a word for a short period of time.

“Your taste in men is questionable at best,” he grumbles after a bit, eyes continuing to bore holes into Jisung’s back.

“He just—” You stop yourself before any sort of defense slips out. It isn’t your job to defend him anymore. You have no need to protect him or say anything good about him at all. Yet even though you don’t need to, that inherent need to do so still resides in your gut. “He doesn’t like people in positions of power.”

“Is that so?” Yeosang hums to himself then shakes his head. “Come on. We can discuss the dreams you’ve been having and things you’ve noticed since coming on the ship while they’re discussing plans.”

It’s enough indication for you to realize that he no longer wants to discuss Jisung, and that is frankly fine by you. The silence it leaves you in, however, is not welcome. You don’t realize how vehemently you are rubbing at the brand on the inside of your wrist until Yeosang glances over at you and comments on the repetitive motion.

“You’re going to rub the skin raw if you keep doing that.”

“O-Oh,” you exhale, clenching your fingers into a tight fist and dropping your arms to your side. That’s all he says for the rest of the arguably short walk to his quarters, and he maintains a distance of several feet between you the entire time.

“You can sit on the bed as long as you don’t touch anything,” Yeosang mutters once inside his room.

It’s a basic and unadorned room, something you didn’t expect from a man who grew up surrounded by excessive lavishness, but for some odd reason, it is so inexplicably Yeosang that you can’t be too surprised. The blond heads straight for a small desk pushed into the corner of the room, one that sits beside a tall bookshelf similar to the ones you see in Seonghwa’s room. You do as told and sit on the corner of the bed so close to the edge that you practically fall off. There’s no need to be comfortable if you aren’t going to be staying for long after all.

“I don't need you messing anything else up so just stay put,” Yeosang says as he sinks onto the cushioned seat behind the desk. You pin him to the spot with a glare.

“Messing anything else up? What’s your issue with me?” You spit, arms coming up to cross over your chest.

“Hm? Does there have to be a reason for me to not like you?”

“I don’t get what your fucking problem with me is. Ever since joining the crew, I have done nothing that directly hurts you or puts you in danger, so what the fuck is your issue with me?”

“Is that so?” Yeosang arches a brow in your direction and matches your glare with one of his own. “If not for you, Wooyoung would still be here. Did you forget about that?”

That bites a bit too hard at your skin; it digs its way into your system and buries itself there to eat away at your bones. It’s the same guilt that has been eating away at you for the past few days, and you don’t need Yeosang to bring it up now and make it worse for you.

“Like it or not, I have a connection with Wooyoung and we have to work together to get him, San, and Mingi back.”

“I hate you,” Yeosang hisses. “I hate everything about you. And I especially hate your connection with Wooyoung. You are going to ruin him, and I hate you for it.” The tone he speaks with betrays the fact that there is more to it than that, but you aren’t particularly in the mood to have a tell-all discussion about all the reasons why Yeosang hates you. A pent-up confession, yes, but still not quite all there is to know.

“It’s not my fault that there’s something there. I didn’t ask for this, and I certainly don’t want it. I would be perfectly content being some damn Normie who didn’t have to worry about something like this,” you ramble without stopping to take a breath once. You blink furiously at the man as you catch your breath, eyes still blazing with uncontained rage when you decide to speak again. “It sounds like you are just jealous that you can’t be the one with a connection to him. Did you get everything you wanted when you were a prince? Is Wooyoung the one thing you can’t have?”

Yeosang lifts an old book off his desk and chucks it at the wall adjacent to him. It slams hard against the metal with a clang. You manage not to flinch in the slightest, staring Yeosang down with the same amount of heat as before.

“Allow me to have an ounce of jealousy! I got to choose absolutely nothing in my life while I was a prince, contrary to popular belief. Everything was selected for me, whether it was by my bastard father or the whore that was my mother. Hell, even my younger brother got to choose more than I did! I didn’t choose Wooyoung, but my love for him is one of the only things I ever got to choose back then. Does that let you just waltz in here and have this inexplicable connection to him? When fate told us that we were never even supposed to meet? I won’t ask for your forgiveness in this matter, because I have every right in the universe to be angered and jealous.”

“Then at least stop hating me for something I could not choose,” you demand, nose wrinkling in disgust as you spit the words in Yeosang’s direction.

“Protecting Wooyoung at all costs is the only thing that truly matters to me.” Yeosang lets out a deep sigh and looks down at the desk before him. “I’ll stop hating you when you prove yourself not to be a threat to Wooyoung’s safety.”

“How do you expect me to do that?”

“Getting Wooyoung back in one piece would be a fantastic place to start, don’t you think? Do you not feel that same way about San?” There’s a twitch in the corner of your eye that won’t go away even after Yeosang finishes speaking.

“I don’t like what you are trying to imply with that, Yeosang.”

“Take it as you will,” the man states in response. He angles his sharp chin towards you, blond hair wavering a bit with the sudden motion. “Your feelings might still be a mystery to me, but I have known San for years. I know him well enough to see how clear his feelings are for you and what you mean to him. Is that not what is holding you back from our dearest lieutenant?”

A bitter taste of ambiguity resides in his tone, and it’s something that you cannot get out of your mind. Yet the more you think about it, the more confusing it seems to get because there is no clear answer to Yeosang’s question. All this time, you figured it was Seonghwa who was holding back thanks to how he feels about Hongjoong. Sure, there was a possibility of your past love for Jisung getting in the way too but the realization that you would have to lose this crew in order to go back to him quickly dispelled the romantic notion of returning to him. San was never part of the picture — at least not in the way you think Yeosang is insinuating.

“What do you mean?” You ask after several breaths of terse silence. Yeosang doesn’t answer quite yet; he returns to staring blankly at the wood of his desk, fingers of his right hand coming up to rub at the inside of his left wrist without reason. You’re well aware of what lies under the fabric of his black shirt, the brand on his skin that you bear on your own, and the losses that came along with such a mark.

“In order to give your all to someone,” he starts in a quiet tone, “you have to be willing to make sacrifices. I gave up a lot to save Wooyoung, but seeing the look on his face once we were finally free made all of it worth it. I would never go back unless it was to fully guarantee Wooyoung’s safety. You still haven’t found that moment with Seonghwa have you?”

Your eyes give away the answer to that question in the way your darting gaze slips to the floor and avoids Yeosang’s insistent aura.

“Seonghwa mentioned the deal you made with Han to gain his cooperation in this mess. And how you don’t truly want to follow through with your end of the deal, yet you’re doing it anyway. For what reason?” You open your mouth to respond only to realize that it is merely meant as a rhetorical question when Yeosang continues speaking. “Because you are guaranteeing San’s safety, you would go to a place you don’t truly want to go. You would do something that every ounce in your body disdains to an unbelievable degree simply because it guarantees one person’s safety.”

“I’m doing it for Wooyoung and Mingi too,” you counter with too much haste, and it betrays the truth about the matter and your defensiveness. Yeosang’s lips quirk up into a slight smile. You would almost say that the gesture seems genuine in that moment.

“You say that with your words yet your eyes tell all. It’s on you to recognize it.” He cuts himself short there and shakes his head a bit. “That’s all… that’s all beside the point, however, since this is supposed to be about your dreams.”

“And what exactly is it you need to know about my dreams?” You tilt your head to the side as you ask the question, arms coming up to fold over your chest in a desperate attempt to defend yourself from his scrutiny.

“Well, first of all, there’s something I’m curious about.” Yeosang shifts to pull something from the drawer, and when he resurfaces, he has a small bound leather journal in hand. “Wooyoung has had an incessant dream for years now — all the years I’ve known him actually — of a girl drowning in a black lake. He watches her head go underwater but can’t make out her features well enough to recognize her. He dives in to save her, swims to grab her, does everything he can to save him, but something always pulls her deeper and deeper. He can never reach her. He can never hear her screams. He can never see her face. All he can do is reach out for her hand and that’s it. But when you came aboard, that dream suddenly stopped happening altogether. He hasn’t had it since meeting you.”

“I’ve – I’ve never had any sort of dream like that. Just… one dream about seeing a man with dark hair across a black lake. But h-his back was to me, so I couldn’t see his face. For all I know it was some random person and not Wooyoung.”

“And the other one?” Yeosang asks out of the blue. He arches a brow, eyes searching yours for answers, and you’re a bit taken aback by the question since you don’t recall mentioning a second dream to anyone other than Wooyoung. Ah… “He mentioned that one day in the medbay, where the two of you were late to the meeting on the bridge — you woke up shouting his name and asked him something odd.”

“Well, yes, but that… I had a dream about seeing Wooyoung in chains and the same collar he has now, but it didn’t feel quite like a dream. Moreso a memory than anything else.” Yeosang draws his lips into a tight purse.

“I can’t help you there.” The dismissive nature of his tone sends a sudden spike of rage through you, and you level the Elitist with a harsh glare.

“What do you mean you can’t help me? If that truly is a memory, then I deserve to know what my own past is as much as Wooyoung does!”

“I — calm down, Y/N. I’m not saying that I am choosing not to help you; genuinely I cannot. I don’t know anything about that. Wooyoung’s past — the one prior to when the two of us met — I have no knowledge of it, and according to everything he’s told me, he doesn’t either. Before the batch of slaves he was in came to Aera, their minds were wiped. Just as yours was for the military.”

Several years back, there had been one night in particular with your unit where all of you were up late in your bunks to exchange old ghost stories and legends, but something Hyunwoo had said at the time stuck out to you the most then.

“What do slaves and soldiers have in common? The cost of their service is worth more than a lifetime.”

And at the time, you hadn’t known exactly what that would mean in the long run, but now you think it makes quite a bit more sense. You sacrificed fourteen years of your life to join the military and be their property. Gave up an entire lifetime in service to the crown, and for what? You were no less a slave than Wooyoung must have been. How many years did they steal from him?

“Wooyoung knows fairly little about his time before coming to the palace on Aera. Even saying fairly little is being more than generous. Perhaps the only thing I genuinely sympathize with as it concerns you is that. Your pass was stolen from you, and there is no guarantee that you will ever get it back. While my childhood was far from pleasant, it always pains me when Wooyoung asks to hear about the times before him because I know that he doesn’t that. There is no ‘before me’ for him, just the day he stepped off a slave vessel and greeted my family.”

“You don’t mean — how long exactly have the two of you known each other?”

“Since we were nine years old,” Yeosang replies, a soft and genuine smile painting his lips. “Fourteen years. We’ve spent over two-thirds of our lives together, yet it’s still not enough to take away the fact that Wooyoung has a chunk of his life missing entirely in memories.”

“Were you… his master?” Your mind can’t move past the fact that they have been together all this time, through the years that Wooyoung was a slave and onwards. You haven’t had anyone be a steady rock for such a long time; the longest you’ve ever spent with someone to your knowledge was four years at best. But fourteen? That is the amount of time missing from your own memories. Is it possible that you had someone the way Yeosang and Wooyoung had each other for so long? A foundation in your life meant to ground you?

“No, never. He was assigned to my side, yes, but my mother was his true master.” Yeosang’s expression grows grave in that moment, and you know the look in his eyes well enough to guess that it is a sensitive and touchy subject that you should avoid. Thus, you shake your head ever so slightly to dispel the curiosity and move to a separate question.

“Then how did the two of you come to be here together?” You know a vague telling of the story of Kang Minhee, the Royal Betrayer who abandoned his dying father when it was his time to take up the crown, but nowhere in those stories is another person mentioned. No slave, no Wooyoung, no trace of any other name besides Yeosang’s original one.

“My father was sick, and the stress it put on my mother’s shoulders made her more cruel. I couldn’t bear to see her harm Wooyoung anymore, and thus I did what I thought was best and set him free in the night. Told him to go off and gain passage on a merchant’s ship to get off the planet. Then, as a stroke of vengeance against my mother, I stole documents concerning one of her many affairs and threatened to bring them to my father so that he would know she was a cheap whore on his deathbed. But even princes can’t get away with such things. My mother swapped the documents and told the guards that I stole highly confidential war declarations among other things instead, and thus I was charged with treason, given my brand, and stuck in jail.”

“Obviously you got out,” you murmur, leaning a bit closer as Yeosang tells his tale. “And met up with Wooyoung at some point.”

“Wooyoung is the only reason I got out. Rather than leaving the planet as I asked him to, he caught wind of how Kang Minhee had been placed behind bars for treasonous actions, and he thought it was because I helped him escape. He made a deal with a pirate crew to help gain my freedom, and Wooyoung personally set me free after six torturous nights of separation. I… being apart from Wooyoung for even that long was worse than treason itself. As my assistant, Wooyoung had a bed in my room so he could be at my side no matter the hour. He came with me anywhere and everywhere, even when it came to shadowing my father on his military tasks.”

There lies an unspoken cry of desperation in his words. You aren’t too dense to miss it, but the acknowledgment of said cry leaves a searing pain in your chest.

Yeosang drops his gaze to the desk. Something melancholy and sad takes over his expression, like he’s turning the pages back in a book and revisiting older chapters of his life that are less than pleasant, and for a moment, your heart goes out to him. The person he has had in his life for fourteen years — no doubt someone he never parted from even for a week — is no longer by his side. Again you feel that pull to bring Wooyoung back if only for Yeosang’s sake, for the sake of a faulty Elitist who found something more powerful than sheer reason and logic.

“We’ll get him back, Yeosang,” you whisper. “I’ll make sure of it.”

…

Your eyes open to a thick and palpable darkness that leaves you more than a little disoriented for several seconds. The scenery refuses to change around you even as you blink against the shadows to adjust to the shifting light. You blindly feel around for Seonghwa’s presence, stretching your hand out to find his form since the two of you were supposed to come to the Dreamscape together, but you can’t find him anywhere around you.

“Seonghwa?”

“Y/N,” he exhales, bringing an immediate wave of calm over your shoulders. A hand brushes over yours in the shadows, and you clasp tight at the fingers without second thought. “Something isn’t right.”

You don’t need to be a scholar or have infinite knowledge about this place to recognize that, but Seonghwa’s confusion brings a knot of panic to your gut.

“Where are we?”

“The Dreamscape but…” Seonghwa trails off as something collides with wood, echoing a hollow sound, and his body stops moving immediately upon impact. “Hold on, there’s — it feels like a door.” Seonghwa fumbles around a bit at the wood before the panel slides open, disappearing into the side of the wall, and pale yellow light filters over you. You can’t see past Seonghwa’s broad shoulders, but the slight pulse of his fingers squeezing yours tighter doesn’t bring any relief to your bones. He keeps you there behind him even as he steps into the dimly lit room.

A small fire crackles somewhere ahead, the only sound in the den of silence you’ve entered. When you at last step around Seonghwa’s back to stand at your side, your heart practically stops dead in your chest because of the form that sits before the fireplace.

“What’s going on?” Seonghwa asks before you have a chance to get anything out. None other than Daichi sits in front of the fire, hands clasped tight over his lap as he watches the flames dance before his eyes. Upon hearing, Seonghwa’s question, the old man jerks his chin to face the two of you. A heated glare greets you before anything else, along with a rage you haven’t seen from the man in a long while.

“I warned you, Kazuya.” Unless you’ve suddenly occupied another unknown form, there is no way that Daichi is speaking to you, and the way the old man’s gaze shifts to your companion only confirms that suspicion. Umiko, Tsukio, and Kazuya? What significance are those names supposed to hold? “I told you both, in fact. I said not to go looking for more Sirens!”

Daichi pushes up from his chair all of a sudden, seeming to grow in stature without warning as he looms over the fire, and crude shadows twist his features in ugly shapes and patterns.

“It is your job to guide Sirens to each other,” Seonghwa hisses as he pulls forward to match Daichi’s heat.

“And yet I told you not to do exactly that! It may be my job, but it is not my duty to do so. I too am allowed to have free will.”

“Then we have the same luxury! Who are you to keep us from finding others of our kind? Have we not been alone for long enough? Was it not you who guided us to find each other in the first place?”

“That was a stroke of faulty luck!” Daichi counters, and it causes Seonghwa to falter a bit. “Let this serve as a lesson in cruelty, boy. This place, this Dreamscape, it is mine to shape and mold. I have let you walk around too freely without consequence.”

If Seonghwa has anything else to add to the argument, he does not get the opportunity to say it because Daichi pushes forward, body contorting and melding into a blur before your eyes as he steps through the fire and out of sight. You can hardly stand and gape at the scene that just transpired in front of you for long though; new voices rise to your ears, soft and warm tones that speak in hushed whispers. You turn as Seonghwa does, finding two new forms who seems utterly oblivious to your presence in the dim room. A young woman, hardly older than thirty by the looks of it, and a tall child with jet black hair stand on the creaking floorboards near the door. They don’t face you or even spare you the slightest of glances, too caught up in their own little world to breathe in your direction.

“Darling, it’s time to run off to your hiding spot. Your favorite one, you remember?” The woman combs a few long fingers through the boy’s hair, brushing it off his forehead. “I’ll count down from ten, and by the time I’m done, you must be completely hidden. You know what to do, my angel.”

She nudges his shoulder once, and it prompts the boy to lunge into action, little legs working hard to dash through the room and out of sight before she can even begin counting.

“Ten…”

“Seonghwa, what is this?” You murmur. Your gaze is so transfixed on the scene unfolding before you, and Seonghwa seems to be in a similar predicament but his face wears too much concern for you to feel at ease in this place. There lies an odd tension in the air, one that tells you this is not some fun child’s game that the mother and her son are playing.

“Thr—”

“Where the fuck is he?” The door jerks and wobbles as it is flung open, and in its place stands a man nearly as tall as the doorframe with similarly dark hair and a fair complexion. His brows are so closely knit that you can’t see the skin between them, evidence of the rage that falls off his body in waves.

“Donghy—” The sharp and resounding smack of an impact too cruel for words interrupts her, and you turn away with a gasp on your lips. Seonghwa’s body jolts forward in their direction, but you snatch him by the wrist before he can move far.

“Th-They can’t see us, Seonghwa,” you huff out, unable to look over your shoulder again. “They would have seen us by now if we could do anything.” Seonghwa offers no response but his hand tightens into a clenched fist that causes his knuckles to bleed white.

“Where is that little brat? I finally worked out a good deal on the bastard, a quick trade for slave traders.”

“I – I don’t know. I haven’t seen him. H-He ran away earlier because I was yelling at him!”

“Did the fucker break another of your dishes?”

“No, no, he just – he wouldn’t shut up while I was trying to read. I… I don’t know where he is. I went out looking for him but couldn’t find him anywhere!”

“You’re just as useless as he is! Can’t even keep the fucker inside for two seconds while I go out and get the money for us?” Seonghwa tugs his arm out of your grasp, pushing away from you as best he can, and you follow him blindly to another door off to the side.

“W-Where exactly are we, Seonghwa?” You inquire, falling into step beside him. “What’s going on? Is this — is this a memory? Wooyoung’s?”

“No. It’s mine.” Seonghwa twists at the waist. You inhale so sharply that the air burns your throat and lungs, eyes blown wide at the shock of the revelation. A single long finger reaches out to point down to something near the fireplace, and you squint hard at the spot before realizing that a small vent sits at that exact spot on the wall. “I hid in that vent for four days to avoid my father at age six. By the time those four days were up, the slave dealer he had made a deal with had grown impatient and left the planet. And my mother took the brunt of my punishment for me.”

Seonghwa turns back to the door before him and pushes through it. You follow close at his heels, hand hovering over the center of his back. The memory seemed less than pleasant for him, and you didn’t miss the disdain in his tone as he spoke about it, but offering comfort right now feels a bit out of place. The scenery shifts as you pass through the door, but only enough for you to realize that these doors aren’t going to get you anywhere. You now stand in a different house, one that is much more run-down and decrepit from the looks of it. The young boy – the young Seonghwa, to be more accurate – stands in the doorway at the front of the room, rain soaking his skin and dripping from his dark bangs. There isn’t time to look around and take in the surroundings more because the same woman from the first memory comes rushing into the room.

“What do you think you’re doing, Seonghwa? You’re supposed to be at the military base training with the other recruits! Why are you here?” She stops in front of the boy and clasps her hands tight around his shoulders. All the boy can manage in response is a small shake of his head, and silence envelops the pair for so long that it grows uncomfortable.

“I-I was rejected,” the young Seonghwa says at last. “They… they turned me away. I’m s-sorry, Mother, I’m so—”

“Shh, my angel, it’s alright. Let me see your face.” The woman stoops to be eye level with the boy, hands reaching up to cup his face. As she lifts his head, you get a clearer look at the state of his face; it’s littered with bruises along with a split lip and a cut along his cheekbone where the skin has broken. “What happened!? Seonghwa, honey, wh-what happened to you?”

“It doesn’t matter.” The boy shrugs his mother’s touch off with a huff of air.

You shift to look at the real version of Seonghwa by your side, but his gaze remains locked on the scene unfolding in the room with glistening eyes that hurt to look at.

“The other recruits… at the time, they took me to an alleyway and bean me down like a dog,” he explains over the discussion between his memories. “All because I was born in a lower class, born in the Slums, not one of the Elitists who came from the Upper Echelon like them. Not good enough for the military even at age ten.” He exhales a loud scoff, teeth sinking into his lower lip so hard that you think he’s about to bite straight through the skin there. Seonghwa says nothing more; instead, he pushes back through the door you two just stepped through, only to welcome a new scene that causes him to freeze so quickly that you knock against his back.

“Go, Seonghwa! Why can’t you just go?” His mother is on her knees before the figment of his memories, an older version of himself that is not much taller than the one you just saw. “Do what they want! For my sake, if nothing else. They offered so much money for you, more money than we’ve ever seen in our lives. If you would just go, they’ll give it to us! I’ll have enough money to live happily for the rest of my life without having to go out on the streets and sell my body. Don’t you want that for me? Doesn’t my own son want me to have that freedom? Ever since your father passed and left us alone, I’ve been suffering so much. Can’t my angel just go with them for my sake?”

“I – I don’t want to go with them. They want me to – I don’t want to sell my body to them, Mother. I-I’m too young, please.”

It’s not the response the woman wants to hear, and she throws her hands down on her son’s shoulders, shoving the boy back until he stumbles and hits the creaking floorboards harshly. The Seonghwa at your side doesn’t let the memory continue past that point. He steps around you, fists clenched tight by his side and chest rising and falling with unsteady breaths. You aren’t sure how much more of these memories you can take, and that feeling must be increased tenfold for Seonghwa since this is his life he’s being forced to relive. There doesn’t seem to be an end in sight, this cruel torture of Daichi’s making returning again as you follow Seonghwa back through the door. This time, however, you step out into a rainy street, cold droplets painting your skin and sticking to your white gown.

There stands another Seonghwa in front of you, one that is a bit more like the real one who is at your side but still holds a bit of youth and innocence to his features.

“It was pointless to try to keep you safe,” a voice hisses through the din of the rain. It’s his mother again, and this time she stands in a doorway completely shielded from the rain as her son takes the brunt of the barrage from above. “This was the only chance I had at a decent life. I could’ve moved to the Upper Echelon with all that money, but you just had to go and ruin it for me. Like you always do. You should never have been born! Look where it’s gotten me! That plague my father had was passed down to you and I have suffered every day because of it. I should have thrown you to the wolves the moment I learned what you are. You won’t be my fucking problem anymore, though. Go! Get out of here and don’t ever come back! You are not my son, you never have been, and never will be!”

“Imagine a child’s worst crime being that he was born to a world that didn’t want him.” The man at your side shifts to look you in the eye now, face contorting with disgust as he watches his memory play back. “All because I was born as a Siren. I spent sixteen years of my life being hated and turned away because of what I was. Even by people who didn’t know my identity. No one wanted me, and the only ones who were willing to pay for me were people who wanted me for my body and not what or who I was. And then…”

Seonghwa turns away with a smile. He pulls back once more and reaches back for the door behind him. You follow him without comment, unspoken curiosities at your lips as you step into a room full of overwhelming noise and the stench of alcohol. A bar, no doubt, and one that Seonghwa recognizes in an instant based on the way his shoulders fold back and he perks up at the sight of it.

“And then I found Hongjoong,” he whispers, dark eyes swimming with waves of emotions. You mimic his line of sight to find a near unrecognizable version of Hongjoong standing before a run-down bar counter with a mop of long brown hair styled in a messy mullet that runs down the back of his shoulders. And sure enough, another version of Seonghwa stumbles in as well, seemingly a continuation of the last memory with the way his hair is damp and sticking to his forehead.

“Are you the one looking for recruits?” He pants as he comes up to the counter, stopping beside Hongjoong’s form.

“Depends on who’s asking.” Hongjoong offers a shrug and swirls his drink around a bit, watching the golden liquor inside jostle. “And it seems like some morally right asshole is asking me now.”

Seonghwa pushes his shoulders back a bit and frowns at the man before him.

“I ask that you give me a chance.”

“Then prove yourself. Are you truly prepared to do whatever it takes to be a pirate? Especially one on my crew? If you know how to shoot a gun properly and could kill an innocent with no qualms, then I suppose you could join the crew.”

Seonghwa moves in a flash. His hand snatches up the pistol on Hongjoong’s left leg and lifts it to the young captain’s temple, pressing the cool barrel against his skin without a drop of hesitation.

“I asked for an innocent, and I am anything but that.”

Seonghwa’s arm shifts to point the gun at the bartender across from Hongjoong, and he doesn’t even blink before firing the gun just to the left of the man’s head. The din in the bar falls to a hush at that, all eyes moving to where Seonghwa stands and where the bartender has now fallen to the ground in a state of shock. An airy laugh leaves Hongjoong’s lips, and his head tilts back in amusement.

“You’re hired. Here, old man, some extra credits for your troubles as well as another drink for my new companion here.” Hongjoong slips a credit chip across the counter, eyeing the bartender with wary eyes as he pulls himself back to his feet. The din behind them picks up once more without any issue. “What’s your name and age? You hardly look older than me.”

“Um, Park Seonghwa, sixteen.”

“Kim Hongjoong, sixteen.”

“Aren’t you a bit young to be a pirate captain?” Seonghwa asks, head falling to the side in curiosity. Hongjoong pushes himself to his feet and steps around his barstool. He stands far shorter than Seonghwa, but that doesn’t seem to faze him in the slightest as he crowds Seonghwa against the counter. The taller boy grabs the wood and leans back over it to put some distance between him in Hongjoong, inhaling sharply as the other pushes further in. Hongjoong’s hands fall on either side of Seonghwa’s and effectively pin him to the counter. Seonghwa has to tilt his head down to see Hongjoong properly, eyes wobbling as one corner of Hongjoong’s lips twists upwards.

“Are we going to have a problem with authority, Seonghwa?” The words are like honey on Hongjoong’s tongue. The taller simply gives a sharp shake of his head. Hongjoong hums to himself, tongue peeking out to drag over the front of his teeth. “I think we’ll get along quite nicely then.” Hongjoong leaves him with one more cruel smirk before pulling back completely and returning to his seat. He motions to the empty space beside him, which Seonghwa fills almost immediately. The bartender returns at that moment, setting new drinks on the counter with a hushed whisper.

“Keep mum about the alcohol, I can’t be going out of business now.”

Hongjoong just smiles and flicks another credit chip over to the man, then raises his glass to Seonghwa.

“To a new partnership.”

“Cheers,” Seonghwa echoes in a mumble, mirroring Hongjoong’s motion.

The man at your side cracks the slightest of smiles.

“To think that at the time, my worst nightmare was merely existing.”

“And now?” You ask before you can stop yourself.

“Not being able to save Hongjoong from himself.”

You hardly realize how lost in the memory you are until something resounds behind you, almost like a voice crying your name in the darkness behind that door, and you don’t pay the man at your side any notice before turning to face the wood. It’s clearer now, the voices behind it, the soft mumblings that blossom into something loud and bright, and once you realize who those voices belong to, you waste no time in grabbing the handle and pushing your way into the memory. Seonghwa must notice your movements because he follows close at your heels, although this time it isn’t one of his memories that you step into. It’s something different, something you can’t quite recall but you recognize the faces strewn throughout the room nonetheless.

You’re suddenly back on Eros, home with your unit, all of them except for Hyunwoo. Jisung stands over a table that is littered with maps and old papers as the others stand around him.

“Why are you leading this when it’s not your place, Jisung?” Juyeon is the one to pose the question, and you can’t keep from just staring at his features to drink in the sight of him since it’s been so long since you last saw him before you like this. “We all agreed to appoint Hyunwoo as leader, even you.”

“Hyunwoo isn’t here, is he?” Jisung snarls, reeling on his friend with a fire in his eyes. “He’s off mooching with the generals because they love him so fucking much! He doesn’t have to worry like the rest of us do; he’s no pathetic runt like the rest of us are.”

“Careful there, Jisung,” Soojin scoffs from Juyeon’s side. Her hair is just as bright and daring as you remember, a stark red that stands out against her skin and accentuates that natural beauty she always held. “That’s your inferiority complex slipping through.”

“What she means is — listen, Sung, I know you want to get this done, but we can’t make plans without Hyunwoo. And frankly… no one is going to follow you.” Juyeon exchanges a quick glance with the woman at his side, then another with the youngest of your troupe, Ash. “Let’s call it a night and wait for Hyunwoo to come back.”

Jisung doesn’t get to speak another word. Juyeon leads the way out of the room, disappearing into the darkness along with Soojin and Ash, and suddenly it’s like you and Seonghwa are left alone with just this weird figment of Jisung. A noise echoes from the corner. You shift to find the source, but when you do, your throat closes in on itself. It’s you. Some version of you, at least, one that you can’t even recognize well because of how young you seem to be. Wide, doe eyes that hold no hurt in them, features not marred by the harshness of your life that followed. Even if you don’t recognize this memory, you know for certain it isn’t one that happened after the ordeal with Hyunwoo and the king.

“You aren’t allowed to leave,” Jisung mutters, barely sparing your younger form a glance. “You can’t leave, Y/N. Out of all people, you have the least right to walk out that door. You’re just like me, just a runt who isn’t good for anything. The two of us need to stick together.”

“What’s the plan then?” She asks, and Jisung grins back at the girl.

“I’ll explain everything.”

“T-This isn’t right,” you choke out, reaching for Seonghwa’s arm. “This never happened. I don’t — I don’t remember this at all.” An odd sense of impending doom overwhelms you as you watch yourself approach the table beside Jisung, and you decide right then that you cannot handle being in this place any longer. You stumble backward, hand hitting the door hard and shoving against it in a desperate attempt to get out of the room.

The new scene you find isn’t any better than the last. Jisung sits in the middle of a monotone room, arms and legs bound to the chair under him. Some tall old man stands in front of his chair and Hyunwoo is at his side, looking as alive as can be, so much so that you choke on air and fall to your knees in an instant. Seonghwa’s hand finds your shoulder and clasps at it to offer some sort of comfort. In the corner opposite where you’re kneeling, the younger version of you is drawn tight into a ball with arms folded around her knees. Hyunwoo pulls away from the man beside him to come closer to the young girl – you, the innocent and young you who didn’t know how cruel the world could be at that point.

“Don’t watch this, Y/N,” Hyunwoo says as he folds an arm around her shoulders.

“Why is this happening? What’s going on? Hyun, I don’t understand why – why is he being punished?”

“Jisung was out of line. He… killed fourteen people. That wasn’t the mission, the mission wasn’t to kill anyone. It was just a simple recon mission. No one was supposed to die, especially not innocent people.”

“And why then are fourteen people dead?” The old man asks. The question is obviously directed at Jisung, but all he offers in response is to spit on the general’s feet with a sneer. The man swings his foot up, catching Jisung in the chin with a sharp kick that sends the younger sprawling across the floor in his chair.

“I did nothing wrong! All I did was get rid of more competition that would stop us later on. People are afraid of us now. Our team is gaining a name for ourselves at last, and you fat fucks in power feel just as threatened as the rest of society, don’t you? We’re fearsome now. Ruthless, bloodthirsty, cruel. That’s what we’re known for.”

The old man presses his foot down hard on the side of Jisung’s face and leans over his body.

“That isn’t what you’re supposed to be known for. You are part of the military. You are supposed to obey the law and uphold the rules like everyone else. Not murder innocent people who weren’t even in the crossfire!”

Jisung’s eyes blaze with unbridled rage, bringing a bit of a crazed gleam to his dark orbs.

“They called Y/N a runt! A useless slave! I’m supposed to sit back and allow that disrespect to happen? They had to pay for their crimes! They were far from innocent.”

You turn to Seonghwa, desperate for him to help you to your feet and get you out of this hell, but as you move, his face bleeds to white. Next thing you know, the ground disappears out from under you and you enter a freefall. A brilliant blood-red moon shines above you, taunting you with its glow as you drop, and it grows smaller and smaller the further down you fall. Your freefall only stops when you collide harshly with a body of water, and the black waters swallow you up and pull you under with no resistance. You thrash against the darkness, fighting your way to swim back up to the surface, but it’s to no avail because you can’t move. Something constricts your throat, chokes the air out of your lungs, and you watch helplessly as air bubbles float up to the surface without you.

Something sharp closes around your ankle. Looking down offers no help because of how dark the waters are. You have no time to tug away from it before it pulls you down further, and the red light of the moon grows fainter and fainter with each passing second. As a last-ditch effort, you push all the air in your lungs into a scream that rings through the water. And that must do the trick, because as the sound pulses through the lake, something blindingly bright appears above you like a small beacon of hope in the night. It grows larger as it swims closer to where you continue to sink, and just as it starts coming into focus, whatever has a hold on your foot lets go of you as though burned. Hands wade through the murk to cradle your face, soft thumbs combing over your cheeks, and the light dulls just enough for you to see the face of your savior.

And when you do, your heart nearly quits functioning right then and there because it’s none other than Wooyoung who floats above you, hair bright and glowing a soft lavender around his head. His cheeks are puffed full of air and his eyes are so wide that they look like round gems in the glittering light. He doesn’t speak, nor does he give you any indication whatsoever of what is going on; all the man does is slip his hands lower to fold around your waist before he begins to swim back up to the surface. The lack of air in your system has you reeling and dizzy, along with the overwhelming confusion that radiates through your body as well.

When the two of you finally breach the surface of the water, you are close to losing consciousness. The sudden intake of fresh oxygen keeps you conscious for now, and you let your body go completely limp in Wooyoung’s grasp as he pulls you to the edge of the water. The light from his hair fades back into a muted black, wet strands clinging to his forehead and neck. You only bring yourself to use your muscles again once you reach the shallows, knees coming to rest on the sand so you can sit up straight and face the man. He doesn’t wait even a second before clasping your face in his hands again.

“I know you,” he chokes out, voice too thick with emotion for your liking. The statement is startling enough as it is, although you have a sneaking suspicion that he doesn’t merely mean he knows you as Y/N L/N. “The girl who appeared in my dreams for years. The – the one I couldn’t reach. I can finally see you. Y/N, I…”

“Wooyoung has had an incessant dream for years now — all the years I’ve known him actually — of a girl drowning in a black lake. He watches her head go underwater but can’t make out her features well enough to recognize her. He dives in to save her, swims to grab her, does everything he can to save him, but something always pulls her deeper and deeper. He can never reach her. He can never hear her screams. He can never see her face. All he can do is reach out for her hand and that’s it.”

“I finally found you, Umiko.” Something about the way Wooyoung speaks and the glistening tears in his eyes brings you to tears yourself, a choked sob forcing its way out of your mouth for some reason unbeknownst to you. The moment leaves too soon.

A hand grasps your shoulder and yanks you back before you know it, tearing you away from Wooyoung’s grasp. Your attacker solidifies it with a kick to the center of your chest, and you slam back against the shallows. Daichi stands above you, a rage to his aura that you have never felt before. That’s all the warning you get from him. He swings his foot back down at your head this time, and you roll away from the attack only to be swung at by his fist.

“Why are you doing this?” You yell as you dodge the powerful attacks as best you can.

“Tsukio is the Siren I warned you about, you fool!” Daichi shouts back, heel clipping the edge of your shoulder. The comment puts enough confusion in you for him to gain the upper hand, and he hits the side of your head with the back of his hand. “Do you not remember? ‘Someone near you is a dangerous threat, one that you’ve never encountered before. You must be careful. Guard yourself wisely.’”

Daichi pushes you flat against the sand and clasps his hands around the middle of your throat.

“Tsukio can find you anywhere, even while far away! This mental connection you share, this link — the two of you are a dyad, a yin and a yang, a pair that cannot be severed. No matter how far apart you are, the two of you will always be able to come back to each other.”

“Come – come back? W-What do you mean?” The pressure around your throat increases just enough for you to cough, but you continue to push words out of your mouth like your life depends on it. “Did I know him before? Did I know Wooyoung somehow? That d-dream. Was it truly a dream or w-was it a memory?”

“I’ve always told you that you were something unique and special, Umiko.” Daichi squeezes harder, and black spots fill the edges of your vision. “You assumed I meant that it was your identity as a Siren and were too bitter to listen to anything I told you. Both you and Kazuya should not pry for more answers. I will tell you absolutely nothing.” With that, Daichi pushes your head under the water, and it’s just deep enough for you to not be able to breathe. “Consider this to be your one and only warning, Umiko. Next time, I will end you.”

You jolt back into a state of full consciousness by choking on air and throwing your body upright. The room swirls for several seconds before coming into focus, and you find yourself seated on the floor beside Seonghwa’s bed with no recollection of falling off at any point. There is a body in front of you and another on your left side, but their faces don’t process in your mind until you’ve caught your breath a bit. It’s Jongho at your side, who presses a hand to your sweat-slick forehead with so much concern in his eyes that it’s overwhelming, and Yunho is knelt by your feet with a similar expression of concern.

“Wh-Why are you here?” You ask, throat burning from the few words. Yunho glances over at Jongho, and the pair exchange unspoken words in their eyes.

“You pinged all our wristbands, Y/N. Called through the comms and said you needed help and that Seonghwa wouldn’t wake up,” Yunho murmurs.

“Where? Where is Seonghwa?”  Yunho motions towards the bed on your right, and you peer over the mattress to find Seonghwa sitting at the opposite edge of the bed with his head in his hands and elbows propped on his knees. Yeosang is in front of him, squatted to be eye level with the man, and he rests a hand atop one of Seonghwa’s knees.

“Seonghwa… when we came in, his body was in a state of shock, and his heart w-wasn’t — he was completely unresponsive. I almost couldn’t get him awake at all. On top of everything else we’re dealing with, why does this have to happen too?” Yunho drops his chin and exhales a shaky laugh. It’s a haunting reality that Seonghwa almost died in his sleep because of Daichi and his warning, but nothing ever felt quite as real as it did this time. “This must be some sort of bad omen.”

Yunho drops a hand to your leg before pushing himself to his feet. He steps around the bed and makes a beeline for Seonghwa now, leaving you in Jongho’s care for the time being.

“What the hell happened?” Jongho asks once Yunho is out of earshot.

“I… it was – just a bad nightmare.” You can’t look Jongho in the eye when you speak the lie, too ashamed to even be lying in the first place, and it’s only when your gaze wanders around the room a bit that you realize one person in particular isn’t present. “Where’s Jisung?”

“We saw him to a spare bedroom after dinner, so I’d assume he must still be in there.”

“He didn’t come out with the commotion?”

“What could he do even if he did?” Jongho shrugs a bit and lets his hand drop to your shoulder. He makes a good point in his statement, and it’s enough to shut you up and not prod the subject further.

“I need Seonghwa to the medbay with me so I can run some sleep tests and make sure everything is normal in the brain and heart,” Yunho states, peeking over to where you and Jongho are still seated. “Y/N, I’m a bit concerned about you not remembering calling for help, so I’d like you to—”

“No,” you interject, swallowing roughly. Yeosang looks at you over Seonghwa’s shoulder, and your eyes meet for the briefest of moments. He inclines his chin a bit as though trying to tell you something, but you can’t decipher what the hell he’s trying to say in the slightest.

“Jongho, you help Seonghwa to the medbay with Yunho. I’ll stay with Y/N for the time being.” Yeosang’s suggestion seems to catch everyone off-guard, including you, but based on the look in his eyes, there’s something else going on so you can’t find it in you to fight it. Jongho glances down at you.

“Is that – will you be okay?”

“I’ll be fine, Jongho, I promise,” you murmur back, placing a hand over where his rests on your shoulder. “Go with Seonghwa and make sure he’s okay first. I just feel exhausted right now honestly.”

“Okay, if you need anything—”

“I’ll call you, Jongho. Okay?” You press a weak smile onto your lips. The Berserker seems content enough with your words, and he helps you to your feet before stepping around the bed to do the same for Seonghwa. You sink back onto the mattress almost immediately, watching with a heavy heart as Jongho loops Seonghwa’s arm around his shoulders and helps carry the man out of the room. You wait to speak again until after the door slips shut and leave you alone with Yeosang. “What happened?”

“You didn’t call the others right away,” he says, tone so quiet you have to lean in to catch it. “Wooyoung called me asking for help.”

“Wooyoung — he what? In m-my body?”

“Yes, I thought – I thought it was a joke at first but he confirmed it was him, so I came over as quickly as I could. He said that you were crying out for his help so loudly that he passed out to come to you. Did you go to his body?”

“I was unconscious the entire time. But Wooyoung… he came to me in my dream.”

“Wooyoung was brief in his explanation to me, but he seems to think that it can only happen when one of you needs help too. He only heard you when you needed him, and he said that just before you came to him the first time in the cell… he was crying out for some sort of help. Then you showed up.”

“No, I don’t mean that he came to my body in my dream,” you say as you push yourself further onto the bed and face Yeosang head-on. “I was drowning in a black lake, and Wooyoung saved me.”

“His dream?” Yeosang’s expression melts into one of shock. He draws his lips into a tight ‘o’ then stares down at the floor. “He mentioned finding someone. He kept ranting on and on about how he finally found her. I was trying to get him to focus on the issue at hand, but he just wanted to talk about that.”

“But he didn’t wake me up. How did he help then?” Perhaps he was trying to pull you out of the dream before Daichi interrupted. But Wooyoung couldn’t have possibly been in your body at the same time that he was in your dream, so it must have happened after Daichi attacked you since Yeosang said Wooyoung mentioned finding you.

“It wasn’t about helping you, Y/N,” Yeosang whispers. He glances down at the spot where Seonghwa was just seated. “You asked him to help you save Seonghwa.” It hits then that as you were fighting for your life between drowning in a lake without relief and being attacked by Daichi, your subconscious was only worried about whether Seonghwa was okay or not. “He had to take control to call for help, but before he called me, he pulled Seonghwa’s body out of shock at least enough to get his heart going again. He stalled the shock long enough to get Yunho over here after talking to me first. He called the rest through your wristband after. Something must have happened on his end though because as soon as he finished speaking, your body dropped and went unconscious again.”

“Did Seonghwa mention what he saw?” You inquire, but a large part of you is too afraid to hear the answer.

“You weren’t with him?”

“We… were separated at some point.”

“He didn’t say anything about what he saw, but he was too shaken up to even speak. One would think that based on the visceral reaction his body had, it was something far beyond his worst nightmare.” Your body moves before your mind does, and you are suddenly on your feet again upon hearing Yeosang’s words. He regards you with a puzzled stare for a moment, eyes watching you move around the bed and to the door on unsteady feet. “Where are you going?”

“I need to talk to Jisung. I… I have some questions about my past.”

✧✧✧ a/n: hi hi HI guess WHO yeah its me its been a minute im SORRY this chapter just did not want to cooperate no matter what every time i sat down to write until today it was like No. but then i hit my stride and wrote like 6k today oopsie anyway hi info dump im so sorry about how much info there is in this one and sldfjlsdkf there’s a lot of backstory and symbolism and im afraid it’s a Mess but it iz what it iz so we’re rolling with it and im kinda delirious so that’s All i’ll say so yeehaw let me know how you feel what you think i love u all!

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#ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez fluff #ateez angst #mists of celeste #mingi x reader #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yeosang x reader #jongho x reader #san x reader #wooyoung x reader #yunho x reader #ateez angst fluff smut #ateez series #ateez pirates #ateez space pirates

[zukkoxx]

mha boys realizing they’re in love pt.1

w/ deku, bakugo

tw⚠️ insecurities!, self doubt!

deku 🥦

izuku knew he loved you since you guys started dating.

he had liked you for a long time, and when you finally got together in your last year of UA, he couldn’t have been happier.

he planned on living the rest of his life with you. and would go through any feats to make it possible.

so when you started to feel doubts about your relationship? that was a wake up call for him.

you had just finished training, all sweaty and tired, walking back to your dorm with a towel around your neck.

you scrolled through your phone mindlessly, and just happened to come across a twitter post about your boyfriend, deku, who had just taken down one of the villains that’s been on the run for months.

you smiled. you were so proud of him. already achieving his dream in becoming one of the greatest heroes. and getting the recognition he finally deserved.

you made it your your dorm, slumping on your bed as you read some of the comments.

woah this guy is still attending UA!? he’ll be a great hero for sure

there’s no one like him!

deku strikes again! what a stud😍

you laughed at some, grimaced at others that claimed the mission was too easy for him. but one particular comment had you freezing in your spot.

is he single? i won’t hesitate to run to the scene and give him my hand in marriage right now!

you knew it was a fun, lighthearted comment. but you clicked the the commenters page and instantly noticed how beautiful as preppy she was.

she was also a big deku fan...probably had more merch than you.

you sighed and threw your phone across the bed.

for the past few weeks, you had been thinking about how different you and izuku were in terms of success.

you were both in your last year of high school, and he had already done so much.

worked on so many cases with pro heroes and went through successful missions all the time. he was destined to become the greatest hero.

and you?

well, you’ve never even caught a villain.

sure you’ve helped out on low grade missions for the hero you interned under, but you had never been publicly praised like izuku. you never stood out.

you had trouble believing you’d become a hero at all.

you always wondered, wouldn’t izuku be better off with someone that could keep up with him? who wouldn’t hold him back. someone who he wouldn’t leave in the dust when he excelled in the future.

he deserved someone better.

your thoughts were cut off when your dorm door brushed open, revealing no other than the man himself.

izuku walked into your room with worried eyes and seemed out of breath.

“y/n? ive texted and called a bunch of times. why haven’t you answered?” he asked, and you subtly turned to your phone that you discarded on the other half of the bed.

“my ringer was off. sorry izu.” you tired to give him a smile as he sat next to you on your bed. “i saw an article about your mission today. you were amazing!” you complimented.

“ahh you give me too much credit. i couldn’t have dont anything with the pro heroes and other people helping.”

“still, you’re a great hero. i wish i was like that.” you chuckle dryly, past insecurities already pushing forward again.

“what!? you’re a great hero y/n!” izuku exclaimed.

“i’ve barely done anything izuku. i don’t know how you put up with me. i should be able to help you on your missions, but i’m stuck in the same position i have been in. i don’t know when i’ll improve.”

you didn’t mean to sound so pathetic, but you had been feeling this way for so long. it was all just spilling out now.

and izuku? he literally stopped breathing when he heard what you were saying about yourself. “you deserve someone that will be able to keep up with you. what will people think when they find out the amazing deku is dating a weak, incapable, good for nothing-”

“don’t say one more word y/n.” izuku cuts you off, and you look up to meet his eyes piercing yours.

they were dark, nothing like their usual gleaming glow that shined when he looked at you.

there was no sign of amusement on any of his features. just dead seriousness

“what the hell are you talking about y/n?” he asks, but doesn’t give you a chance to respond. “you’re one of the most courageous, brave, intelligent, capable people i know! where is all of this coming from?”

“i’ve been thinking about it for a while. it’s just you’re so...amazing and i’m so...” you knew anything you could have said after that would make him even more angry. it was nothing positive.

god he probably hated you for being so insecure.

“you’re you, y/n.” izuku says softly. “you’re you and you’re who i love. i don’t care about what i do, what you do, who says what! i love you for you!”

izuku looks at you with so much love and compassion. you stared into his eyes, wondering what was gong on in his head.

well? at the moment he despised himself for letting you feel this way.

you were his whole world! the person who supported you in everything he did and he would support you in the same way! he couldn’t understand why you were feeling this way when he was literally...in love with you.

he loved you yeah of course, but hearing the way you were speaking about yourself, and how you had doubts about your relationship made his heart physically hurt. he was absolutely and unconditionally in love with you and wouldn’t be able to see himself with anyone else.

and he needed you to hear it.

“y/n you’re my everything! i’m so in love with you, no amount of fame or recognition could make me even think about leaving you!” izuku said urgently, and he finally calmed down when he saw a slight smile reach your lips.

a real one this time.

the conversation continued, and izuku promised to let you learn and remember how in love he was with you until it was the last thing he’d do.

bakugo 💥

bakugo would never pursue anyone unless he definitely knew he loved them.

so of course he never asked you out when he couldn’t differentiate if what he felt for you was love, or if it was a stupid little crush.

he didn’t like thinking about his feelings, especially the irrelevant ones.

he was trying to become the number one hero. who needed time for love anyways?

so he ignored his “feelings” for you, not allowing them to confuse him any longer.

it wasn’t until a few months into his third year when bakugo got the worst news of his life.

you were on a mission. an important one that had you absent from school for weeks.

bakugo was worried.

he’d text you every few days, asking what was going on and how things were and you’d always respond with “it’s fine.” or “we’re hanging in there.”

he assumed it was a pretty difficult mission, but nothing you couldn’t handle.

you were strong

so when he heard from a certain icy-hot that you were in the hospital in critical condition after completing the mission, he forgot about everything and ran straight to you.

ignoring aizawa’s calls, he almost blasted himself out of UA and checked every hospital for you, considering he didn’t even ask todoroki which one you were in before he left.

when he finally reached the hospital holding you, he sprinted to your room.

he found you hooked up to a bunch of wires and tests.

you looked peaceful, sleeping while the heart monitor beeped beside you.

but you looked horrible. bloody bandages covered almost every limb, and your body was covered in bruises.

bakugo’s heart dropped to his stomach. he couldn’t stand seeing you like this.

why does his feelings have to be 100x more noticeable when your tragically hurt!?

he sat down on the empty chair beside the hospital bed, wondering why no one else was visiting at this time.

he stared at you, something he couldn’t get off of his mind lately.

“why do you make me feel things, dumbass?” he asked, waiting for a response. “i never skip class! you just had to get hurt and make me skip the test review.” he rolled his eyes, but his face softened as he looked at you, still sleeping.

“i’ll help you study. you’ll probably fail without going over what we learned.”

.....

“would you wake up, you shitty woman!” he yelled, gripping the side of your bed “this is scary, you know?”

.....

“i should’ve called you today, i just assumed you’d be too busy to talk. if you told me you were in trouble, i’d blast my ass to wherever you were in a heartbeat.” bakugo said, feeling his actual heart skip a beat when you still didn’t respond. 

“please wake up...”

after about an hour of waiting, your other classmates came in, checking on your condition.

you still hadn’t woken up, but your vitals were better and your breath were more steady.

by the time night fell, everyone left; except for bakugo

he was just starting to fall asleep when he felt she. he heard you stir in the hospital bed.

his head shot up, quickly turning to face you as he saw you blinking you eyes slowly.

“y/n!” he yelled a little louder than anticipated, making you shoot awake and look at him.

you blinked a few more times before realizing who you were looking at. “katsuki!?” you asked, trying to sit up, but feeling a sharp pain in your side.

“hey! don’t move dumbass. are you okay? do you remember anything?” he frantically asked.

“umm...i’m fine?” you said, sounding like you were trying to convince yourself. “why are you here?”

“why am i here? you were admitted into the hospital in critical condition!”

“i-i’m sorry, everything’s a bit fuzzy right now.” you say softly, putting a hand on your forehead and tryin got remember everything.

bakugo softened, and waited until you got yourself together. “how long have you been here?” you ask

“since this morning.”

“this morning!? katsuki what about school? do your parents even know you’re here?”

“why the hell are you worried about me? you’re the one hooked up to all these machines and can barely move!” bakugo yelled, trying to understand why you were so focused on him being there with you.

“i just never thought you’d be the one to go out of your way to check on someone. let alone be here the whole day...” you whispered, suddenly feeling shy at the idea of bakugo keeping your sleeping body company for hours.

bakugo froze at your words.

he really wasn’t the type to go check on people for more than a few minutes. especially not one to skip school because of it.

maybe he did this because he felt a little more than what he thought he did.

maybe this wasn’t a stupid little crush? maybe it was something serious that he had just been blowing off.

when he heard about your condition, he just couldn’t stand by. there must have been something that pushed him to run to you.

“it’s cause u care about you...idiot. i wasn’t gonna a let you suffer here alone.” he huffs, crossing his arms.

“katsukiii do you like me or something?” you asked in a teasing tone

he couldn’t believe you were making jokes at a time like this. furthermore, he couldn’t believe how easy it was for you to see through his facade.

“i do.” he states. there was no point in lying.

“i was just kidding kats-“

“i’m not.” he cuts you off. “i care about you, and i like you. a lot. so...you better like be bad damn it. or i’ll blow you to bits!”

you chuckled and smiled tenderly at him. you definitely weren’t expecting him to say that, but you weren’t complaining.

“i like you too...i guess.” you smile, and katsuki tsked before smirking at you.

he finally felt like he could breath again, and that everything was going to be fine now.

except...katsuki didn’t like you. he loved you. but no way would he tell you that

this absolutely sucks i can’t believe i’m posting this. if you can, plz give me some requests so i don’t make trash hcs like this again. they’ll be a pt.2 later. hopefully it isn’t as bad as this one.

click here to send a request. i’d really appreciate it!

#mha fluff #mha #bakugou imagine #bakugo x y/n #bakugo katsuki #bakugou headcanons #bakugou x you #bakugou x reader #bakugo headers #deku headcanons #deku x reader #izuku headcanons #deku x y/n #deku x you #izuku x you

[primasveraas-writing]

And In Darkness, I Stand- Chapter 4

Kallus' leg is never quite the same after Bahryn. But then again, neither is he.

1  2 3 4 5

4. Yavin IV

“Captain Kallus.”

Kallus turns the best he can, gripping the handle of his cane as he does. Zeb is making his way over, his tall frame parting the flow of traffic in the hall.

“Kal,” Zeb amends with a smile, brushing a hand against the small of Kallus’ back. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Kallus nods, and grimaces. “I don't suppose I can use my position to get out of physical therapy?”

“No. I’ll still carry you there myself if I have to.”

Heat flames across Kallus’ cheek, but there’s nothing he can say to defend himself. His daily routine has been centered around his recovery for weeks, despite his protestations. On his first day back, he reported to Command for an extra few hours rather than going to the medbay, which caused a small uproar among the likes of Hera and Zeb. The resulting situation was a lecture from Zeb and the entire medical staff, as well as a warning from Command as to where his priorities should lie.

But aside from the initial excitement, Kallus has settled in quite well. He has his own post and a small command to his name. He’s been forgiven by the Rebels in an official capacity, and has learned when to ignore the snide comments made by his less-forgiving compatriots. For the most part, his job is normal and steady- he’s in the company of fellow spies most of the time, but everyone on Yavin is well acquainted with danger, regardless of their roles within the Rebellion. He nearly fits in.

It would be better if he were not so limited by his physical ability. He cannot stand on his leg unsupported, so he has been using a cane constantly, save for a few small excursions across his quarters, which, so far, have been painful and short-lived.

Suddenly, Kallus is bad at keeping himself out of trouble, between his efforts to heal and his apparently lacking self-care habits. This is yet another change he attributes to rebel influence, but he rather likes it, even if he is adjusting to this new life slowly.

“You’re improving and you’re not going to stop now,” Zeb growls. He may as well be threatening Kallus, who minds this fact very little. His hand tightens on his cane.

“I know,” Kallus breathes, and drops his gaze. His next step forward is slightly unsteady, but he’s overly aware of Zeb watching him closely and that his friend is fully prepared to catch him should he trip.

Kallus hasn’t fallen in weeks. He can make it all the way across base without needing to rest now. The medics say the fracture is largely healed, and he thinks he must have made some kind of progress over the last few weeks.

“Are you coming with me?” Kallus tries not to sound too hopeful or excited; Zeb usually accompanies him to the medcenter for checkups and therapy, if only to ensure that Kallus himself actually attends.

“Of course.” Zeb glances at him. “‘Til you say you don’t want me there.”

“I do,” Kallus affirms, too quickly, and tries to discern if he’s blushing again. His face still feels hot.

They make their way down to the medcenter, where the staff greets him and Zeb both by name. The journey takes longer than he’d like, and Kallus tries not to count how many people pass him. It’s mid-afternoon by then, and his leg has started to twinge, although he turns away from Zeb and bites the inside of his cheek to get through the moments of pain.

Zeb steadies him as he strips off his jacket and boots, clutching Kallus’ left elbow. Kallus shoots him a grateful smile. He wobbles on one leg, unsteady, and he knows he will not fall.

“Ready?”

It’s not Zeb who asks, but a nurse. Cida Amada, who was one of the first people he got to know during his stay in the medcenter. She barely looks old enough to have such responsibility, with her shy smiles and soft tones, but she and Kallus took a liking to each other. They made each other cry, he lost in frustration and agony, and she hurt after discovering his tendency to yell and swear when in crippling pain. Yet once he had apologized, their relationship improved, and Amada became his primary caretaker, which most predominantly includes cajoling him into showing up for his appointments.

She and Zeb seem to adore each other for this fact. Kallus can only pretend he hates it so much.

He nods, his mouth suddenly dry, and she reaches out to take his hand. He lets her, and Cida smiles at him, not meeting his eyes for more than a few seconds.

“It’ll feel better later even if it’s uncomfortable right now, Alexsandr. How have the last few rotations been?”

She is gentle and kind. Forgiving, too, which is the strangest of offerings he’s even been gifted in his life. Kallus mostly expected to be dead by now, rather than guided through a half-stocked medbay by a medic exclusively trained by war doctors. Cida genuinely likes him, too, which is odd. Both Hera and Zeb had to assure him of this fact, though Kallus is sure she wouldn’t be capable of pretending otherwise. He first had doubts about the girl’s abilities as a liar since she apologized for taking a blood sample from him. She is too good to lie, which, he supposes, is why he’s a former Imperial-turned-spy, and she is a rebel war doctor.

Cida stretches his legs and guides him through a few exercises that should be simple but prove exceedingly difficult for Kallus. He has to touch his toes. Climb stairs. Walk 2 meters with support on either side. He grits his teeth and sweats through it, mumbling curses that Cida and Zeb pretend not to hear when he inevitably falters.

His hands shake for an hour afterward. Kallus showers and lies on his bunk, exhausted.

His leg feels better than it did before.

 Had he stayed with the Empire, Kallus would have received higher quality medical care.

He might not be stuck with a limp and a cane. 

First, he would have needed to swallow his damned pride and ask for treatment, and then the initial break would not have affected him for the rest of his life. The Imperial meddroids would have returned him to normal in a matter of days, if not weeks, and Thrawn would have never rebroken the leg, even if Kallus had pursued life as Fulcrum. The Empire is equipped with better resources and better training.

But he didn’t ask for help, not upon his return from Bahryn nor any of the painful days after. Konstantine didn’t even look up at him. If anyone noticed he was uncomfortable or weaker, they politely looked away and saved that topic of discussion for when his back was turned. Kallus was alone in caring for himself, and it was thus unimportant to everyone in the Empire, including him. He adopted the same attitude regarding his own health.

Hera had caught him when he collapsed, after Atollon. Cida cried when he cried because she hated seeing him in pain. Zeb has been there for him in more ways than he can count.

Sometimes, Zeb calls him Alex. He hasn’t had that nickname since he was a little boy- his parents never bothered with it and he had few friends by the time he entered the Imperial Academy.

Zeb is the only one, in his entire life, who has called him Kal.

That’s yet another thing they share. Kallus has gleamed that Zeb never fully revealed the truth of what happened on Bahryn, even to the rest of the Ghost crew.

He does not know what would be enough to repay the Rebels. They have so little, yet they give to him, in time and effort and supplies and trust. It would be more just if these things were diverted to another, not to a formal Imperial, but they will not let him refuse their generosity.

Kallus would give his life for these people. For Zeb and the Spectres, certainly, but for those he does not know, too. For the ones who hurl dirty looks and harsh words at him in the mess and hallways, for Cida, for the other Fulcrums, for every rebel on Yavin and the galaxy beyond.

His life would not be enough, when they are the very people who have given it back to him. Kallus’ life is marred and stained and broken. He can offer the rebels service and secrets and loyalty, and he will do all he can to see them to victory. 

He wonders about that, too. He would be more confident about winning the war were he still an Imperial agent. He is a man of facts and logic, and he knows that the odds are against the rebels to prevail over the Empire.

But he believes in the rebels. Kallus believes in their cause and their people. That alone has carried them further than Kallus ever predicted.

He would give his life for them without thinking. He gives his hope and keeps his doubt and his cynicism, heavy as they are, so that they do not burden those like Pica and Leia Organa and Ezra Bridger.

Even as a rebel, being a spy still demands a certain mindset of coldness and hardness. Kallus is learning mercy, and he is learning how mercy does and doesn’t fit into his role. Draven has told him more than once that they serve the cause of the Rebellion, not its people.

Kallus is not sure he agrees. Draven has the end of the war in sight, and that is what grants Kallus peace of mind while the familiarity of Draven’s words nags at him.

Draven has also told Kallus that he is still useful, despite his leg. The General had looked at Kallus with pity while he had said it. Kallus will prove him wrong, and his heart sings with a small amount of pride with the knowledge of the difference he has made already under and to Draven’s command.

Kallus is trying to be good in his new role. He is also trying to become someone worthy of the friendship and care that the rebels have shown him.

He wants to be accepted by them. He wants to be their friend.

 “Alexsandr!”

The use of his full first name startles him, nearly as much as the alarm in Zeb’s voice does. Zeb is staring at him from across the hangar, Hera by his size. The droid, Chopper, makes some obscene noise that Kallus can only assume is scolding.

The trio is at his side quickly, and Kallus grunts as he loads the shipment onto the shuttle.

“I can do that,” Hera says. She sounds mildly scandalized, and she takes the box from his hands. Chopper wags his mechanical arm at Kallus, and emits a horrifying cackle at the indignation on his face.

“No cane?” Zeb sounds surprised, but Kallus has had a good few days. He’s permitted not to use it for short amounts of time, given that his leg doesn’t start hurting. He and Cida are hoping that this will become the norm, that he will only need his cane some days. Kallus has floated the idea of field missions once or twice already, but he’ll push for more unsupervised walking first.

“Not for a while.” It’s nearly strange not to have the cane in his hand, but he’s been making good use of his free hands for a while. Then: “General, I assure you I am very capable of doing that.”

Kallus tries to take the next box from Hera, who passes to Zeb. In turn, he holds the box over their heads, then sets it in the shuttle.

“You could hurt yourself,” Hera chides. “Let us help you.”

“Lifting a few crates will hardly send me into critical condition,” Kallus protests, but the words are weakened when Hera glares at him. Chopper laughs again. “My leg is injured, not my arms.”

“No extra weight,” Zeb reminds him, taking another box from Hera. “Don’t strain yourself.”

“It’s just-”

“We’re happy to help,” Hera interrupts. She exchanges a look with Zeb, and Kallus bites back a retort. He’s perfectly capable.

The next time he sees Cida, Kallus is sure to mention lightening the restrictions on his carrying weight. She’s willing to negotiate, at the very least, and they argue until it’s agreed that Kallus can lift, but not carry, a few kilos. He’s sure to complain very little for the rest of the session, and the nurse sends him away with a smile at the end of the day.

She tells him he’s making progress; a statement constantly echoed by Zeb. Physical therapy becomes easier and less frequent; he’s fully adjusted to using his cane, although he has started to go many days without it. At first, it’s painful- he can only endure the day without his cane if he stays in Command, but then weeks pass and he can move around base on his own. He’s outfitted with temporary mechanical braces, and he goes on his first field mission as a rebel.

The days are not bad, and the initial mission goes smoothly, as do all the ones after that.

When night falls after he returns, Kallus can barely stand, and the pain reduces him mostly immobile.

Cida worms this fact out of him after he spends two rotations chasing down a rogue informant. He had been late to see her, and stiff and quiet during their appointment.

“You’ll make it worse,” she warns him. His leg has been swelling, too. “Too much at once will only hurt you.”

“I’m useful out there,” Kallus insists, staring at his injured leg. It would be a waste if he remained on base all the time. “If I can get stronger, then I can fight.”

Cida sighs, her eyes full of worry. Kallus looks away, his heart poisoned with guilt. “If you keep doing this, you may last a few months or a cycle. After that, you could spend the rest of your life walking with pain and assistance.”

He nods once. That’s as much time as he needs, regardless of what follows.

Kallus has greater potential than what his leg allows. He could be one of the best ground fighters on base, if his body worked right.

 “Does your leg hurt?”

Kallus grunts. “My leg always hurts.” He shifts, moving his lower body as little as possible, but Zeb moves into his full view a moment later.

“You shoulda said something on way back-”

“I’m fine, Zeb.”

“Your cane-”

“It hurts with or without the cane,” Kallus snaps, then averts his eyes. Zeb’s ears flatten, and Kallus’ stomach flips.

“Are you gonna use it now?” Zeb asks quietly. They still don’t look at each other.

Kallus reaches for the offending object and thumps it against the ground. “Yes,” he mutters. That’s the only reason he got here, in some dirty corner of the base. The cane saw him back from the medbay and into the spot where he had chosen to sulk.

Apparently, the covert location wasn’t quite private enough. That, or Zeb knows him too well, because he seems to have sought Kallus out with ease. But here he is, sitting on the floor with Kallus and watching the rest of the Rebellion walk by, totally oblivious to their discussion.

“Today is a bad day,” Kallus says. That’s how he measures time- in good days and bad ones. “I’ve been having a lot of those, recently.”

“You’ve been working hard.”

“I want to go back to normal,” Kallus mutters, rolling his eyes. “I’m sick of being weak. I’m tired.” He smiles at Zeb, his lips thin and pursed. “I’m done.”

“Alex.” Zeb is imploring.”How could you think you’re weak?”

“Because I can’t walk down the damned hallway!” Kallus scoffs. “Because I have gone through all this suffering and I am not better! And all I wish is that it would end!”

“That makes you weak, does it?”

“It doesn’t make me strong, Garazeb. Not the way you think I am.”

The Lasat next to him snorts. “Kal, I have seen you walk through hell and back-”

“That doesn’t make-”

“- I know how strong you are,” Zeb finishes, talking over him. “Do you trust me?”

Kallus blanches, his heart pounding. “Of course.”

“Then believe me when I say you’re strong.”

“I’ve never seen it that way.”

The words are nearly inaudible. It’s a shamefaced confession, and Zeb stares at him with wide eyes, taking both of Alexsandr’s hands in his.

“Just because I survived doesn’t mean I’m a martyr, Zeb. Or some inspiration to look up to.”

“That’s half of one of the many reasons I care for you,” Zeb whispers, his voice so, so low. “Not because you’ve managed to survive, but because of how determined you are. It’s the stupid face you make when you’re concentrating and the way your voice gets all high when you tell me about how fine and capable you are.” Zeb chuckles, and Kallus is very acutely aware that Zeb is sitting so close to him that their thighs are touching. “You’ve always been so damn stubborn.”

“You like that about me?” Some alarmed voice in Alexsandr’s head warns him that this is barely tangential to the topic at hand.

“Yeah.” Zeb’s ears twitch, and he drops his eyes from Kallus’ wondrous stare. “Even if it pisses me off.”

“I know it does.”

“Yeah,” Zeb growls, then he deflates as he sighs. “I’ve always known that about you. Even when you were trying to kill me.” He gestures to Kallus, to his brace and cane. “Seeing you recover is another way you’re proving this to me. Your absurd relentlessness. And your strength.” He glowers at Kallus when he says the last word, as if daring him to object. “You’ve always had that.”

“Someone better would have handled it with grace.”

“Maybe.” Zeb shrugs. “You’re tough, not a saint.”

“Thank you, Garazeb.”

Zeb rolls his eyes, shoving against Kallus’ shoulder gently. “Whatever.” He clears his throat. “Maybe all this made you stronger. I don’t care if you get back to normal, or whatever you’ve dreamed up for yourself. I only want you to be happy with where you were.”

“And go to physical therapy.”

“I don’t want you to be in pain.”

“Right.”

Zeb grins. “By the way, if you didn’t want the hurt from your serious injury to go away, then you’re twice as big of an idiot as I thought you were. I have no idea what else you expected.”

“I expected for it to last a few weeks. Not the rest of my life.”

“There’s nothing wrong with wishing for that.” Zeb looks up at the trees, and Kallus thinks of a burning world, razed to the ground by the Empire. Zeb didn’t come away from Lasan unscathed, he knows. “Whatever happens though, here you are, Kal. Even if all you’ve done is survive.”

Alexsandr reaches out for Zeb’s hand, and his friend takes it. Zeb’s words are muddled with affection and friendship and respect. The person Zeb describes sounds like someone Kallus can appreciate. Somebody with an iron will and a conviction for the right kind of things. Somebody worthy of love

 That night, Kallus cannot rest. He wanders the halls, on a dreadfully familiar path- the one Zeb takes him on when Kallus has to stretch out his leg. His feet carry him into the cool night air, his cane thumping against the stone after every uneven step.

Kallus searches for privacy, but he cannot make it far outside the base. There are still lights blinking from the hangars and a quiet bustle of nightlife shows that the base is still busy, but Kallus staggers along as far as he can and settles on a log under the cover of some trees.

“Can’t sleep?”

Alexsandr jumps, then he squints in the dark. Some 30 feet away is Kanan Jarrus, sitting on the forest floor with his legs folded beneath him. He appears to be meditating; his shoulder pauldrons and mask are off, and he sounds relaxed.

“I didn’t mean to disturb you,” Kallus calls. He fumbles with his cane and readies himself to stand; he’s still slightly out of breath and now he has nowhere to go.

“No.” Kanan stands instead and approaches Kallus, nimbly stepping over branches and rocks. Kallus stares up at the blind Jedi, then averts his gaze when Kanan takes a seat next to him.

They sit together in silence. Kallus doesn’t mind the company very much; he fiddles with his hands and does his best to ignore the aching in his leg.

“It’s lonely, isn’t it?” Kanan says finally. He turns to Kallus expectantly.

Kallus gives a nervous chuckle. “What is?”

“Healing.” Kanan opens his hands as if he’s referring to the whole jungle, instead. “Even with the people who love you at your side.”

Kallus opens his mouth to protest- he’s not sure who loves him, even if a few people come to mind- but the depth of Kanan’s words hit him a moment later.

“I don’t-” Kallus struggles for the right words. “I don’t believe I’m alone.”

Kanan nods slowly. “I had Hera with me every step of the way. She’s the most understanding, caring person I know.” Then, Kanan shrugs. “But it was impossible for her to understand what it was like, no matter how hard she tried. It was lonely.”

“Yes,” Kallus says slowly, exhaling.  “Even- even-”

“Zeb doesn’t understand?” He can hear the humor in Kanan’s voice, although Kallus cannot piece together why Kanan would be amused. “I think that’d be impossible unless he’d been through it, too.”

“Do you know anyone who did?”

Kanan shakes his head. “Not quite.” He smiles, and again, Kallus can’t comprehend why. “I had to find solace in other places.”

“Do you think you’re on the other side?”

“Of recovery?” Kallus inclines his head. “Yes. It’s different now.” Kanan’s smile becomes wistful. “But there’s no going back.”

“You made it through.”

“I did. And you will too. In time.”

“I want it to be over.” The confession falls from Kallus’ lips before he can help it. “I’m so tired of being in pain.”

“I know.”

“I don’t think it will ever pass.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“Then…” Kallus sighs. “Then I move forward with it, anyway.”

There’s no other choice. He will stay with the rebels until the end, and he will do so however he can. He could lose his leg tonight or he could wake up entirely healed tomorrow morning. Either way, there will be little change to his plans.

“I thought you’d say that.” Kanan rests his hand on Kallus’ knee. “It gets easier.”

“I know.” It has already. Maybe Zeb is right. Maybe he is strong because of what he has survived, and maybe there’s truth to Kanan’s words, too. 

“I think you’ll find someone who makes it less lonely. I believe you’ll find yourself on the other side.”

Kallus bows his head in acknowledgment, suddenly exhausted. “Zeb will be yours again, once we get back from Lothal.” Kanan’s seriousness disappears, and Kallus knows the moment has passed. He can’t help that the corners of his lips are quirking up, and Kanan seems to both know and enjoy this fact.

“You leave soon?” The thought is bittersweet; the Lothal rebels returning home again, and Zeb will leave his side.

“Three rotations.” Kanan answers. His tone has become heavy again, but the Jedi does not sound afraid.

“I wish you luck.”

The earliest sign of civilization is a healed femur.

#kalluzeb #kalluzeb fanfic #swr #rebels #kallus x zeb #alexsandr kallus #kallus #agent kallus #star wars #star wars fanfic #sw rebels #rebels fanfic #star wars rebels #SWR fanfic #star wars rebels fanfiction #kalluzeb fanfiction #kalluzeb imagine #kalluzeb headcanons #and in darkness i stand

[sun-stormz]

Genshin Impact Visions & Gods

This has been bugging me since i started playing in mid november, but what makes a certain Archon give a Character their Vision. Considering i couldnt find any official info, I decided to do some research on each Archon and then on the player Characters we have of each element as of beginning of December 2020.

This will contain spoilers on characters & story!

Note: The travelers will not be included due to them not having Visions and having more then one Element.

I am basing this on overlaping themes and not on anything related to the actual Archon. I did add some info on the archons tho, due to this being about Visions and archons

“It is unclear whether Visions are directly granted by its element's corresponding Archon or by the nation's Archon. There is also the possibility that granting a Vision requires approval from both Archons. Yet another possibility is that they are granted by neither, and are instead given by the gods on Celestia.”

-Genshin Wiki on reciving Visions

Starting with my Favourite Element, Electro.

Electro wise, We have five Characters as of right now: Kequin, Razor, Beidou, Fishl and Lisa. The Electro Archon, God of Eternity, Baal, is the ruling Archon of the Area, Inazuma, whitch is the area we are getting in the 1.4 update in 2021.

To start off i read into any info i could find on Baal and i gotta say, she is a interesting Fellow. As of right now we know that Baal has locked Inazuma down and has initiated a Vision Hunt Decree, due to her thinking Visions should be under the sole domain of divinity. She also hasnt handed out any Visions since this decree which means all Electro characters we know have gotten theirs before this drastic change.

Now, why did these 5 characters get their Visions? Well each character has a different reason, from Razor wanting to protect those he calls friends to Lisa simpley saying it would be of use to her and just getting it. From what I've found there isnt really a big overlap in the reciving of the characters, but what is overlaping is their fixation on something.

Razor recived his vision due to him being fixated on getting stronger to protect his friends after he failed to while being dragged away by an abyss mage

Kequin was fixated on sharing her beliefs, that the people of Lyiue shouldnt rely on Rex Lapis and have their Pride and that their views are of Equal importance

Fishl was so fixated on a book series she changed herself to be like the main character, fishl and her Vision manifested in the form of Oz, one of the characters from said book

Beidou was fixated on killing Haishan, a sea monster, from a young age and recived her vision when she did so

Lisa is pretty much fixated on understanding magecraft and the cost of reciveing a Vision.

Now onto a easier Element, Geo

The Archon of Geo and Contracts, Morax, Archon of Lyiue.

Morax or Rex Lapis, was one of the oldest gods, defended Lyiue in the Archon war, the Currency in Teyvat, Mora, is named after him and as of Chp.1 Act 3 we know that he has taken the form of Zhongli and has retired as the Geo Archon.

Morax, Along with Barbatos, are the only two Archons of the Original Seven that havent been replaced.

Now, who are our Geo Characters? Noelle and Ningguang, two dedicated powerhouses! This one is fairly simple, thanks to voicelines we have of Zhongli since he came out as a player character (Bless the pity pull for giving me this man)

In his “About Ningguang” Voiceline he says: ”Despite the multitude of affairs she deals with in a day, Ningguang always continues to press on. A rare gem indeed. I'm reminded of the time that she used to walk barefoot from Yaoguang Shoal to the south wharf, trying to sell her wares as she went. Time is cruel to humans.”

Noelle recived her vision when Jean Acknowledged her hard work when she tried to get into the knights of favonius. in her “Vision” story it states: This was a lucky day that she would always remember, for she would receive recognition from two all-important sources this day: once from Jean, and the other from the gods. Her hard work has been remembered after all.

So for short: Hard working and dedicated = Geo Vision

Next up we have Anemo

Our wonderful Tone deaf bard, Venti or otherwise known as the Archon of Anemo and freedom, Barbatos, the not really ruling Archon of Mondstadt.

Barbatos is a freedom loving guy and refuses to rule over Mondstadt, the city of freedom and is by far the weakest of the Archons, despite this the people of Modstadt still love and adore their windy God.

I went into this one thinking “Oh this is easy, itll be love for freedom or something!” Nope, it surprisingly wasnt. Jean and sucerose recived their visions through their Determination it seems. Sucerose from doing her 159th Dandilion seed Simmering experiment and Jean seemed to be determened to be a good grandmaster and to protect Mondstadt.

That aside, i couldnt find many overlaps with the two, they are both free spirited and love what they do.

Now on to Pyro

Pyro, the Element of the Archon Murata who is also the god of War, is wielded by the fan fav Diluc, as well as Klee, Xiangling, Amber, Bennett and Xinyan.

Not much is known about Murata, Venti describes her as a “ wayward, warmongering wretch” and thats about all we know. She presides over Natlan.

Now to the characters, this was acually the easiest of them all: Passion.

Every Pyro user has a huge amount of passion that a rolemodel or Loved one ignited within them.

This one definitly surprised me the least and i am really excited for when we meet Murata and Natlan.

Diluc has the same passion his father had

Klee has a passion for Explosives that her mother ignited

Xiangling has a passion for food and cooking she got from her father

Amber got her Passion for Mondstadt and the outriders from her grandfather

Bennett got the Passion for adventure from all the old adventurers he calls dads, yes Dads as in plural, that raised him

Xinyan has a passion for Rock, tho i havent found out more of her story due to her being so new.

Now heading onto Hydro

Hydro, along with Dendro, is the only element where we do not know the name of the Archon. All we do know is that they are the Archon of Hydro and Justice and rule over Fontaine.

So straight to the Hydro characters: Barbara, Mona and Xingqiu.

I dont really count Childe due to the only thing talked about is his dilusion and i am rather confused on if he even has a real vision but i still love him lots

Im going to be honest this one really had me running the brain gears for a while.

All three recived their Vision as an extension of the self.

Barbara  got hers after helping a sick boy by singing to him to help him sleep through a fever, Mona rekindeled a learning aid to her vision, to aid her with her search for the truth of the rules of the world and Xingqiu got his after he explained the principles of his clans martial arts anew, litterally saying that martial artists should see Visions as a extension of the self.

Last but definitly not least, Cryo

Cryo, the Element of the Archon know as the Tsaritsa. We acually dont know her corrisponding ideal nor her acual name and this one was just as geargrinding as Hydro.

The Tsaritsa, Ruler of the fatui and the one that gives them their Dilusions, is one interresting lady. We get a description of her from Childe: “Her Royal Highness the Tsaritsa is actually a gentle soul. Too gentle, in fact, and that's why she had to harden herself. Likewise, she declared war against the whole world only because she dreams of peace. Her gaze was cold but pure, arrogant yet sharp. She was not only the sacrosanct Cryo Archon but a true warrior also.”

Kaeya, Chongyun, Diona and Qiqi, our current four Cyro userer, all have rather interesting storys when it comes to how they got their Vision.

All dont accept something

Kaeya felt guilty about hiding who he was from the family that adopted him after his father abandoned him to be a spy in Mondstadt, and told Diluc, someone he used to be very close with, the truth, since then he sees his vision as a stern reminder that he must live his life under a heavy burden of Lies. He pretty much doesnt accept the truth of his situatin and would rather live with that heavy burden

Chonyun is surpressing a part of himself, the condition he has, and as Xiangling says in Chongyuns stories, is denying a part of him. He trys to work around his condition and wont accept it as the way to go about how he practices exocrism.

Diona wont accept the truth about her father being a Alcoholic, and places the blame on the Alcohol industy instead of accepting that he isnt as high and mighty as she thought. She wont accept that her fathers bad control over his drinking habits is the reason he acts as he does and instead blames the alcohol industry.

Qiqi didnt want to accept her death nor does she really accept her Zombie like traits and only uses them when she needs to defend herself.

My theory is the Cyro Visions are recevied when you wont accept the grim reality as it is, if this is positive or negative variates

When it comes to the last element, Dendro, we sadly know nothing nor have we seen any dendro character in action. So that might be a addition later on.

I’m really interrested if we find out the actual criteria for reciving each Vision one day

#genshin impact #genshin diluc #genshin theory #kaeya #diluc ragnvindr #zhongli #childe #genshin venti #genshin chongyun #this game is taking over my life