An Important Lore Note From Me, In My Version, The Chiropterans From Blood+ Are A Subspecies Of Gorgons

An important lore note from me, in my version, the chiropterans from blood+ are a subspecies of Gorgons and Medusa is their progenitor from greek mythology. Chiropterans as a whole are a female dominated species, with chiropteran Queens as the originals of the species, and considering that the poisonous blood effect between twin sisters turns the other to stone (on top of what their blood does to human males when they are turned into chevailers -- biologically and psychologically) them as the subspecies of gorgons fits especially with the ever present but subtle concept of chiropteran queens being religious icons in and throughout human history.

Refer to this post here to better explain things.

I should also add that through one way or another, they are a product of Medusa and Erebos and I'm going off of Ovid version of Medusa.

THE PAST LIVES OF HAESEOL KIM

⌗ ︙ A DESTINY WOVEN FROM ABOVE

➛ The love was there. It didn't change anything. It didn't save anyone. There were just too many forces against it, but what matters is that the love was there.

TRIGGER WARNING: violence, death, famine, sickness, murder, blood etc.

"Your heart and my heart are very, very old friends."

### TALE: TEARS OF THE MOON

In a small but thriving village that lay in the land of Mamic—long before it was known as a Kingdom—there lived a girl named Yueliang. She came from a humble and happy home, the second eldest daughter of a blacksmith father and a seamstress mother. Her older brother was the assistant to the village's head doctor. Despite this modest upbringing, Yueliang always knew she was different.

Her grandmother, Han-Yi, now old and blind, had sensed it the night Yueliang was born during a violent storm. "You are a Yang, child," Han-Yi had whispered one day, squeezing Yueliang's small hand. Back then, Han-Yi wasn’t blind, and they often walked together to the river during the day. "It is your destiny to fight the other half. The Yin." Yueliang, with the curiosity of a child, had many questions, but Han-Yi either hushed her or brushed them aside.

From that moment, Han-Yi began training Yueliang in secret. She taught her all she knew about Mana, guiding her toward realizing her untapped potential, despite their limited resources. It was essential, Han-Yi emphasized, that Yueliang's powers remain hidden. "You are the Yin's mortal enemy," Han-Yi would say, gripping her shoulders tightly, her voice laced with fear. "The only one capable of defeating them. If they knew you existed, they would stop at nothing to kill you. Fate doesn't care if you wanted this or not. You must fight. Destroying the Yin is the only way to bring peace."

The summer Yueliang turned sixteen, her brother died from a spreading illness that had come from another town. His body, like the others, had to be burned to prevent the sickness from spreading further. Yueliang had never seen her mother so devastated, unable to even bring him home for a proper funeral. Three years later, Han-Yi lost her sight.

One night, as Yueliang’s mother brushed and braided her hair with trembling hands, Yueliang asked softly, "Mother... would you be sad if I was gone?" The village had just sent a merchant’s daughter with black hair as a bride to the Emperor, though everyone knew she was a sacrifice to appease a monstrous demon rumored to live in the mountains.

Her mother's voice shook as she answered, "Of course, my dear. Your father and I would be so sad without you. You are our whole world." Yueliang sensed that her mother understood the dangerous path that lay before her daughter.

Yueliang turned and smiled, linking her pinkie finger with her mother's. "Then I'll become so strong that no one will have to be sad anymore. I’ll find a way to change this world for the better." From that day, Yueliang vowed to embrace the one thing that could change her fate and save everyone: love.

Yueliang continued living in her village, growing in her magical abilities. She learned to channel, manipulate, and balance her Mana into forms of light, mastering the art of healing. Despite her grandmother’s warnings, Yueliang often used her powers to help the sick and injured, believing it was her duty to aid those in need, like her brother once did.

Tragedy struck when Han-Yi fell gravely ill. As her grandmother lay on her deathbed, she beckoned Yueliang closer and squeezed her hand. "Do you know why I lost my sight, child?" she asked weakly.

"N-No," Yueliang stammered, her eyes brimming with tears.

"Because I saw what awaited you in the future and chose to change its course." Han-Yi slipped a hairpin into Yueliang’s hand, crafted from magical stones found in the caves. The pin was gold, adorned with a jeweled white flower. Han-Yi leaned in and whispered her final words into Yueliang's ear.

Years passed, and Yueliang was now twenty-three. She wore the hairpin her grandmother had given her, dressed in garments fit for an imperial concubine—the same attire the merchant’s daughter had worn before being sent as a sacrifice. Yueliang had volunteered herself in place of a younger girl with black hair and porcelain skin, knowing she could not let the child be sent to die.

As she ascended the mountain, Yueliang could still hear the desperate cries of her parents, begging her to come back. She knew they would never forgive her, but she hoped they would one day understand why she had to face her destined enemy, the Yin.

Yueliang’s enemy was a man named Zhongyuan, a monstrous figure and tyrant. He was feared for his madness and bloodshed and for the black-haired girls he had slain. When Yueliang finally stood before him, she fought to keep her fear at bay. She knew she had to offer something that would appeal to him more than death.

“Help me end this eternal cycle of Yin and Yang and create an era of peace,” she proposed.

For six years, Yueliang and Zhongyuan moved from enemies to allies to lovers. Yueliang immersed herself in Zhongyuan’s vast library, learning more about Mana and refining her combat skills. Over time, Zhongyuan’s cruel nature softened under Yueliang’s influence. He became more insightful and empathetic, the hatred that had once fueled his actions slowly diminishing in the light of Yueliang’s love.

Yueliang’s unwavering kindness and her desire to heal and help others deeply touched Zhongyuan. He saw in her a genuine wish to change the world, a dream she couldn't achieve without his help. They fought together, laughed together, and learned together, convinced that their love had broken the eternal curse of their fated battle.

But fate, relentless and unforgiving, had other plans.

One fateful day, Yueliang fell under a powerful spell, becoming a puppet in her own body, compelled to harm the man she loved. Zhongyuan's blood was on her hands, her radiant arrow piercing his heart and lung. Yueliang cradled him as he bled out, tears streaming down her face as she begged him not to leave, desperate to find a way to save him.

Zhongyuan, struggling to breathe, tried to wipe away her tears. “Yueliang…” he whispered, his voice weak. He had seen her give everything, never asking for anything in return, not even from him. In his final moments, he wanted to give her something that was truly hers.

“My love. My pain. Even my very last breath, all of it is yours.”

After that day, Yueliang disappeared. It is rumored that Zhongyuan was buried in an unmarked grave beneath the large tree where Yueliang’s arrow struck him—the same tree where they had professed their love to one another three years prior. Some say that Yueliang visits the tree, praying for Zhongyuan’s peace in the afterlife and hoping they will be reunited in the next life and all the ones to follow.

"The mind forgets but the heart will always remember. And what is the heart's memory but love itself." - Twan Eg Tan.

### TALE: THE SIYO & THREE BROTHERS

Centuries passed, and the cycle repeated with the arrival of the Siyo Goddess and The Great Sun.

Long ago, the three brothers, known as The Three Great Spirits, waged a fierce war over control of the world, spreading destruction and chaos. In their father’s desperation, Hae-Ri Jin, the Siyo Goddess, was sent to bring peace. She was the embodiment of water, the calm to their fiery spirits. To save them from their rage, she made the ultimate sacrifice: offering her blood to Tae-Mu Ryeong, the eldest and strongest, while giving her eyes and hands to the other two brothers. Yet their greed overcame them, and they tore her apart in their thirst for more.

As punishment, their father, the Almighty God, cursed them all. Tae-Mu Ryeong, the Great Sun Spirit, was doomed to endure an eternal thirst—no drink, no food, no life force could ever satisfy him. The curse was unyielding, and God spoke these words to seal the fates of his three sons: "The one Siyo that offers up their life for your agony shall become the master of your pain. Their sacrifice shall bind you to them, and you will carry their mark until your final breath."

"I've loved you all my life, even before we met. Part of it wasn't even you. It was the promise of you." - Li-Young Lee.

### TALE: THE STORY OF BAYAN & DHAN (Elixir Of The Sun - Manhwa)

The Dark Siyo, those with black hair, carried the true legacy of the Goddess, though the world had forgotten their worth. Over the centuries, the Silver Siyo rose in prominence, imposters who had cannibalized the original Siyo to gain their powerful healing abilities through consuming their blood. The Dark Siyo, seen as powerless, were cast out and shunned.

Among them was Bayan, a woman whose fate seemed sealed from birth. Her mother, Rangbi, had once been a revered shaman, known for her foresight and wisdom, before her pregnancy with Bayan made her an outcast. Rangbi, blind from the sacrifice of her sight to forge divination orbs for Bayan (made from her blood), was eventually poisoned by the village elders, dying in her daughter's arms. Yet despite Bayan's vow of revenge, it was Rangbi's final wish that her daughter escape to a future beyond the village.

Bayan was sent to the court of Emperor Dhan, the current descendant of Tae-Mu Ryeong, cursed with an insatiable bloodlust. Every concubine brought to him met the same fate—slaughtered by his thirst. Yet when Dhan tasted Bayan’s blood, it soothed the madness within him. Her blood, unlike the others, was a balm to his eternal thirst. In time, Bayan became more than just a concubine. Dhan saw in her the same calming force that Hae-Ri Jin had been for his ancestor.

Their connection deepened, and Dhan began to groom Bayan to be his Hae-Gae, his guardian, his Empress. He taught her to write, allowed her to read official doctrines, and shared the intricacies of ruling the empire. Bayan, once worthless in the eyes of her people, became essential to Dhan, both for his survival and his heart.

But even as their bond grew, Dhan was unaware of the prophecy’s full weight. He did not know that Bayan’s ultimate sacrifice was the only way to break the curse that tormented him. That moment came when poisoned ceremonial wine sent Dhan into a violent blood rage. In his madness, he attacked Bayan.

Despite the agony, Bayan did not run. She embraced him, letting him sink his teeth into her, tearing at her neck as he drank her blood. She endured his violence, knowing that her sacrifice would be the key to his salvation. As her body grew cold in his arms, Dhan’s madness ebbed, leaving him alone with the horror of what he had done.

Dhan wept over Bayan’s body, bloodied and lifeless in his embrace. He pulled out the divination orbs she had carried, swallowing one himself and placing the other in her mouth, urging her to swallow even in death. The prophecy was fulfilled—Bayan’s sacrifice had made her the master of his pain. The curse was broken, their souls bound together in life and beyond.

But instead of dying, Bayan survived, saved by the child she unknowingly carried, the life within her rekindling her strength. Dhan and Bayan were now forever bound—in thought, in emotion, in pain, in love. His suffering was hers, his joys and sorrows intertwined with hers. Everything that was his—his love, his pain, even his final breath—belonged to her.

---

Years passed, and after they both lived long lives, Dhan and Bayan found themselves at the threshold of the afterlife. The weight of time had come for them, their bodies old, but their bond unbroken.

As they stood together in the quiet of the afterlife, Bayan wrapped her arms around him

"Does Your Majesty wish to meet again in our next lives?" she asked softly, her voice carrying the weight of eternity.

Dhan chuckled, leaning into her embrace. “Of course. Were you considering abandoning me?”

Bayan smiled, resting her head against his chest. “No. When the time comes, I'll be your master once more.” Her voice was steady, filled with promise. “Your love. Your pain. Even your very last breath, please give them all to me.”

Dhan held her closer, a warmth spreading through him even in the stillness of the afterlife. "They are all yours, Bayan."

"And when you asked me how long for I have been in love with you, I realized I didn't know the answer. After all those years I just stopped counting, because my love for you seems timeless."- Jhon Grisham

### THE MODERN ERA: THE SHAMAN & THE PRODIGY

In every life, Haeseol and Tae-Jun have been bound by fate, their connection always marked by blood and sacrifice. From ancient enemies-turned-lovers like Yueliang and Zhongyuan, to the tragic romance of Hae-Ri Jin slain by the Tae-Mu-Ryeong that inevitably led to the violence of Bayan giving her life to save Dhan from his madness -- the weight of their shared history follows them. In this life, their bond is reignited when Tae-Jun nearly dies and Haeseol, harboring a secret, saves him once again.

Haeseol Kim, revered as a shaman, is the center of her community's devotion. Raised under her grandmother’s teachings, she is seen as a living deity, often surrounded by gifts and admiration. But her serene public image masks a dark truth: she is not entirely human. Born of a human hybrid, chiropteran queen, Haeseol’s blood is vampiric, passed down from her birth mother. It’s this very blood that saves Tae-Jun when he is fatally injured. In doing so, she transforms him into her chevalier —a protector forever bound to her through blood.

This transformation is not just physical—it ties Tae-Jun to her in every possible way. He becomes hyper-aware of her presence, able to feel her emotions, hear her heartbeat, and sense her every need. His life is tethered to hers, and Haeseol's vampiric hunger can now only be sated by his blood. Though it brings him unimaginable power, Tae-Jun’s new existence is suffused with the weight of eternal servitude, echoing the tragedies of their past lives where love was inseparable from loss.

Yet, this time around, their relationship is fraught with complications. Tae-Jun Park, once a feared and arrogant taekwondo prodigy, has spent his life bullying others into submission. Known for his prodigious martial arts skills, Tae-Jun's reputation is as imposing as his strength. But while others shy away from his aggressive nature, Haeseol stands firm. She hates bullies with a passion and has never hesitated to confront Tae-Jun head-on, calling him out on his behavior. In her eyes, he embodies everything she detests.

Their rivalry is constant, with Tae-Jun antagonizing her whenever he can, pushing her buttons just to see her reaction. Haeseol, on the other hand, refuses to back down, often matching his intensity with her own sharp wit and disdain. Despite their clashes, there’s an unspoken recognition between them—something neither can fully deny. While Tae-Jun exudes arrogance, secretly, he respects Haeseol’s strength and resilience. She’s the only one who stands up to him, and somewhere in the midst of their bickering, he can’t help but admire her.

For Haeseol, dealing with Tae-Jun is infuriating. His arrogance grates on her, but at the same time, she sees glimpses of the person buried underneath the bravado—a fighter, yes, but also someone trapped by the expectations of his family and the weight of their legacy. Tae-Jun, too, carries his own burdens, constantly striving to step out of his parents' shadow, yearning for recognition on his own terms. His pushy attitude, though frustrating, is part of a deeper struggle for validation.

Their dynamic is an odd balance of frenemies, with both of them unwilling to admit that despite everything, they do care for each other in their own way. Tae-Jun may be an insufferable bully, but he also values Haeseol’s opinion more than anyone else’s, even if he won’t admit it. And Haeseol, for all her dislike of his behavior, can't deny that Tae-Jun has a deeper role in her life, one that goes beyond their present-day squabbles.

Bound now by the chiropteran blood and their shared past, their connection has never been more intense. Tae-Jun’s transformation may have made him Haeseol’s protector, but in truth, he’s always been drawn to her, whether as an adversary or something more. Their relationship, born of rivalry and sustained by centuries of intertwined lives, is now a fragile balance between confrontation and undeniable destiny. Whether they can break free from the cycle of blood and sacrifice that has followed them for lifetimes remains uncertain, but in this life, they stand a chance at forging something new—if they can ever stop arguing long enough to realize it.

"You may see me as a fragile flower, but I’ve learned that even the softest petals can withstand the fiercest storms. I won't wait for someone to rescue me; I will fight for myself."

# 𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐍: featuring an original crossover character by the name of HAE-SEOL KIM, constructed within the universe of blood+ / marvel's avengers with headcanon based information and character themes revolving around but not limited to:

the reluctant chosen one, the heart of gold, the emotional survivor, the haunted, the outsider, the secret keeper, the tragic hero, the cursed protagonist, the empath, the dream seer, the silent strength, the symbol of hope, and the burdened protector.

"Destiny's hand may guide my way, But my heart is a compass that never will sway. In the face of the storm, I reclaim my voice, For I am the weaver of my own choice."

"Every wound is a river that carves through the stone. In the depths of our pain, we are never alone. I gather the fragments of hearts that have bled, sewing love into where there was nothing but dread."

# Tears of the Moon | Memories forgotten

### Scene: Who are You?

Haeseol drifted into a familiar haze, the sort of dream that didn’t quite feel like her own, but more like an echo of someone else’s life. She’d experienced these strange dream-memories before—fragments of spirits or souls that passed through her, leaving pieces behind. This time, it was different. She wasn't just watching; she was inside, feeling every detail as if it were hers.

The scene flickered to life around her. The smell of ink and old parchment filled her senses, and the soft rustling of a silk robe brushed against her skin. Her hands—no, not her hands—grasped a slender brush, carefully crafting each stroke across rice paper. She felt the weight of the brush in her fingers, the controlled precision of its movements. The light of the oil lamp was warm, and the soft glow it cast seemed to flicker as her thoughts churned.

What... what is this? Haeseol thought, panic bubbling beneath her calm exterior. But her hands—Yueliang’s hands—kept moving, dipping the brush in ink, continuing the flow of writing on the paper.

To be the Yin is to embody a role that demands sacrifice...

The words didn’t belong to her, but they filled her mind with meaning. Haeseol could feel Yueliang’s emotions weaving through each line: the burden of expectation, the unspoken weight of sacrifice. It was strange, unsettling to be so intimately connected to someone else’s thoughts, especially when she wasn’t in control. But there was a familiar thread in Yueliang’s emotions—this wasn’t so different from her own life, the pressure to maintain a certain image, to lock away parts of yourself because the world demanded it.

Is this a dream, or am I reliving her memories? The confusion gnawed at Haeseol. She could only follow the sensations, unable to break free.

A sudden chill. Haeseol—or was it Yueliang—shivered, her skin prickling with the unmistakable feeling of being watched. The familiar rush of adrenaline hit, but before she could react, a voice pierced the stillness.

“What are you writing about?”

Yueliang’s surprise was visceral. The shock, the sharp jolt of fear—they reverberated through Haeseol’s body, making her heart leap in her chest. The brush slipped from her fingers, sending ink splattering across the paper, and a strangled gasp escaped her lips. She whipped around, her pulse hammering in her ears.

He stood there. A tall man, his body disciplined and commanding, with long black hair falling past his shoulders. His red eyes gleamed in the dim light, a mix of amusement and something darker. Haeseol felt Yueliang’s reaction to him—an unspoken, complicated mixture of awe, irritation, and a sense of being completely overpowered by his presence. Zhongyuan.

Gods, he’s tall... Haeseol's thoughts blended with Yueliang’s, a disorienting swirl of fear and something else she couldn’t name.

“Zhongyuan!” she heard Yueliang’s voice tremble, felt the panic gripping her. Why am I feeling this so intensely? It was overwhelming, as though every sensation was amplified in this body.

“How long have you been standing there?” Yueliang’s voice, edged with indignation, tried to regain some semblance of composure. Haeseol wanted to pull back, retreat into herself, but there was no escape. She was bound to this moment, to Yueliang’s fear, to the wild beating of her heart.

Zhongyuan’s grin widened, the sharpness of it making Haeseol’s skin crawl. “Long enough. You shriek like a startled bird. How amusing.”

Asshole, Haeseol thought, a flash of anger surging up from within. But it wasn’t just her anger. It was Yueliang’s too, tangled with embarrassment. Haeseol could feel Yueliang struggling to maintain some level of dignity in front of him. But it was futile. The man radiated power, a raw, cold confidence that left no room for anyone else's control.

“Give it back!” Yueliang’s voice snapped, frustration mounting as Zhongyuan plucked the fallen journal from the floor. Haeseol felt Yueliang's arms flailing, pushing against his chest, but it was like trying to move a mountain. He barely acknowledged her efforts, towering over her with a lazy sort of arrogance.

The journal. Haeseol's—or was it Yueliang’s?—stomach twisted in dread as he began flipping through the pages. A surge of humiliation washed over her, the vulnerability of having her private thoughts exposed. It was as if a part of her soul had been laid bare, and Zhongyuan’s mocking voice drove a spike through that raw vulnerability.

Zhongyuan, the embodiment of Yin... a force of nature...

Haeseol couldn’t tell where Yueliang’s mortification ended and her own began. It was too real. Too close. Every word he read aloud felt like a blow, his amusement cutting deeper with each passing moment.

“Why so protective?” His tone softened, teasing, but Haeseol could sense something more. It wasn’t just mockery. There was curiosity there, something stirring beneath his cold, composed exterior. He turned another page, reading aloud with a more serious edge.

Does he ever long for the simplicity of being just a man, without the weight of an empire resting on his shoulders?

A silence fell between them, heavy and fraught with unsaid things. Haeseol felt Yueliang’s breath catch in her throat, the way her body tensed as Zhongyuan’s eyes flickered with an emotion too fleeting to define. Loneliness. Was that what she had sensed in him all along?

“You think I’m lonely?” His voice, stripped of its usual teasing, sounded raw.

Yueliang’s—Haeseol’s—throat tightened. “I don’t know...” the words tumbled out, hesitant, unsure. “I just... I wonder if you ever wish you could just be yourself.”

The vulnerability in that moment was suffocating. Haeseol could feel Yueliang’s heart racing, her pulse thrumming like a drumbeat in her ears. The weight of their shared gaze was unbearable, as if the very air between them had thickened with the gravity of her confession.

This is too much, Haeseol thought, her own emotions blending with Yueliang’s until she couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began. I can’t breathe.

And then, just as suddenly, the tension broke. Zhongyuan handed the journal back, his touch lingering, his expression inscrutable. The mask of the Yin was back in place, but Haeseol had seen a glimpse of something deeper. Something real.

“You’re more insightful than I gave you credit for,” he said softly, his voice almost gentle.

And then he was gone, his presence vanishing like a shadow retreating into the night. Haeseol, still trapped in Yueliang’s body, stood there, clutching the journal to her chest, the warmth of his touch still lingering on her skin.

Perhaps there’s more to both of us than meets the eye.

Haeseol felt the truth of those words settle deep within her.

### Scene: The Tale Of Yueliang

In her dream, Hae-seol found herself enveloped in the body of Yueliang again, her senses sharp yet foreign as she moved through the dreamscape. It felt so real—so vivid—as if Yueliang's memories were her own. She stood at the riverbank, her grandmother’s hand gripping hers. Hae-seol’s heart jolted at the sensation. It reminded her of her own grandmother, whose touch was just as firm, just as blind.

Blind… like halmeoni? Hae-seol thought as she gazed at Han-Yi. It was strange, this merging of memories and lives. She felt Yueliang’s curiosity, her growing awareness of the vast destiny laid upon her, but within that, Hae-seol could feel her own thoughts bubbling beneath the surface.

Is this what halmeoni saw for me too? Hae-seol wondered, watching Yueliang's grandmother whisper about her fate, her role as the Yang destined to destroy the Yin. Han-Yi’s warning sounded eerily similar to the foreboding lessons Hae-seol had heard from her own family, cautioning her about forces she barely understood, about a future she was meant to face.

As the dream swept forward, Hae-seol felt herself living through Yueliang’s life. She was there when her brother died, her heart aching as if it was her own family’s grief she was witnessing. She was there when her grandmother went blind. The sorrow, the weight of responsibility, all of it settled heavily in her chest. Hae-seol wanted to scream at the injustice of it all—just like how she sometimes wished she could scream at her own life, the endless expectations and secrets her family had placed on her.

Then came the moment when Yueliang asked her mother if she would be sad if she were gone. Hae-seol felt the hesitation in the mother’s hands, the unspoken fear trembling between them. She knew this conversation too well. There were times in her own life when she had asked similar questions, testing the waters of her family’s love, wondering what her absence would truly mean.

But unlike Yueliang, I never volunteered to fight anything. The thought stung, sharper than any arrow. Yueliang's determination to face her destiny, to protect those she loved, was something Hae-seol both admired and resented. Yueliang had a choice. Hae-seol felt like she never did.

The dream shifted again, carrying Hae-seol to the day Yueliang climbed the mountain to meet Zhongyuan. As Yueliang stood before the monstrous emperor, Hae-seol felt her pulse quicken. The fear, the resolve—Yueliang’s emotions blended with Hae-seol’s own as she gazed at Zhongyuan’s cold, calculating eyes.

Is this what it means to face your fate? To willingly walk into the lion’s den? Hae-seol’s thoughts raced as Yueliang made her proposition, pleading for an end to the violence. It felt impossible, yet Yueliang believed in it so fully.

As time passed in the dream, Hae-seol watched the relationship between Yueliang and Zhongyuan change. What began in fear and enmity transformed into something deeper, more profound. Yueliang’s love for him was pure, despite the darkness of their past and the cruelty that had once defined him. Hae-seol found herself unexpectedly moved by their bond.

Can love really change everything? she wondered, the warmth of their shared moments filling her heart. It was a hope Hae-seol didn’t even realize she had carried, buried deep beneath the layers of duty and expectation.

But just as quickly as it blossomed, it was torn apart. Hae-seol felt the horror of Yueliang’s body betraying her, felt the anguish as she watched herself strike Zhongyuan down. The arrow pierced him, and in that moment, Hae-seol could feel her own heart shatter alongside Yueliang’s. Tears welled up in her eyes, the pain so overwhelming, so unbearable.

No...! I don’t want to see this! I don’t want to feel this! Hae-seol tried to pull away, but the dream kept her rooted there, forcing her to experience every excruciating second as Yueliang cradled the dying Zhongyuan in her arms.

"My love. My pain. Even my very last breath, all of it is yours."

The words echoed through Hae-seol’s mind, cutting deeper than any sword. She felt Yueliang’s despair, her desperate longing for a different fate, and for the first time, Hae-seol truly understood the cost of love. It was everything. It was pain. It was sacrifice. It was the kind of devotion that left you broken and empty, hoping for a future you might never see.

As the dream began to fade, Hae-seol heard the faint sound of Yueliang’s voice, singing a song of hope for their next life, where maybe—just maybe—they could be together again. But Hae-seol was left wondering if that kind of love, that kind of sacrifice, was worth the price.

Is this what it means to be destined for something greater? To lose everything, even the people you love?

Hae-seol woke with tears in her eyes, her chest heavy, her thoughts tangled in the threads of the dream. It was Yueliang’s story, but it felt much too close to her own.

🪷 ⁞ stardew valley game .ᐟ ˎˊ˗

Haeseol + Stardew Valley Profile

Does that make any sense? — Yeah.

BIG LITTLE LIES | 1x01 “Somebody’s Dead”