Character Stuff - Tumblr Posts

:0 rod, sam, and natalie look so cool! can i ask about them? their personalities, lore— anything you wanna share!

Omg tysm!!! You have no idea how much that means dude:D Oh- but, I’ll probably make a separate post about lore and stuff bc I have a tooooooon written down and it would be way to much for just this XD But with their personalities I would say Rod’s almost like an old cat if that makes sense- like he’s really kind and affectionate and he try’s his hardest to help others and lift up their moods! Sammy is like a weird history guy he’s really chill and quiet most of the time but once you get to know him he’s like a kid- constantly talking and showing you things and like- he really likes old comics so sometimes he goes and rants to rod if he reads a new one and like yeah:o Now Natalie, she acts like- super narcissistic TwT but like is super down to earth and helpful!!! But uh yeah:333(TYSM AGAIN I CANNOT EXPLAIN HOW EXCITED I AM RGAHABABAK)

DAZAI OSAMU : QUICK CHARACTER STUDY

(At 3 AM in the morning and that's why it's messy, all over the place and generally, shit.)

Majority of the characters in BSD are morally grey, Dazai included. I'm unable to categorise characters into good or evil, which is what makes BSD really nice to watch.  

Majority of the instances, whenever I have an opinion on someone like Dazai, it's mainly based on their actions. I'll make an exception for his case because I believe he speaks the truth sometimes. 

It's seriously difficult to believe what someone like him says. His weapon is his intellect and his tongue. He could say this and do that instead. Obviously he isn't good at combat, but he could say something and have you on the hook.

He's cunning, sly and in general: a liar (sometimes). As for psychological manipulation… well, it's not something to be looked down upon since it's in our everyday lives.

DARK ERA

He has a more serious aura and was far more suicidal compared to ADA Dazai. He barely flinched when a bullet grazed his cheek. 

I won't even sugarcoat the fact that Dazai is an asshole. 

The way he treated Akutagawa is wrong. The training may have made him resilient, but his mental health isn't in an okay shape. In the end, he even upped and left him without an explanation (although, I think Akutagawa has an idea of why he left).  

Remember when he fired at the GSS captain? If I didn't count wrong, it was 13 shots (my dude over here desecrating a corpse). 

(I couldn't find the GIF of him shooting the corpse, so this is as close as I can get)

He does poke fun at Chuuya, and you can perhaps say that he does some good (but we've only seen a single good deed so far…).

He recognized that Chuuya was being manipulated by the Sheep and in his own way gave him a push. There was the part* when Shirase was talking and it zoomed in on Dazai, who had a wary, analyzing look on him. 

It's clear that the Sheep is quite dependent on him. They believe that Chuuya will be there to save them whenever they fuck up (ex. crossing the river to steal booze, when they know it's near the PM HQ, in result, getting a few of their members captured). They came looking for him to put it simply, beat up and save their comrades, which points towards the fact that they are using him for his ability. 

Shirase also said:

"People who hold more cards than others have a responsibility. Fulfill your responsibility as the one with the trump card called an ability."*

Which again, further points towards the fact that they are using him for his ability and somewhat guilt tripping him. 

Dazai later adds his own input.

"Amusing. You guys are truly amusing. He's by far the strongest among you, but he's like a sheep being stared down by wolves." 

Called out. 

It then changes to show Chuuya's face. Honestly he looks on guard, and I think he knows what they're trying to do, but it's a can of worms he would rather not open, y' know?  

Dazai then later says once more when Shirase is trying to convince Chuuya to kick the PM's ass.

"Give it a rest. He has the freedom to choose how he uses his ability. Even a child would understand that. There's no argument." 

And as a final attempt to convince Chuuya, he pulls the old guilt trip card, which Dazai and Chuuya ignore. 

"Don't forget, Chuuya! The Sheep who took you in when you had no identity and nowhere to go! 

When all of this is happening, Dazai knew Chuuya was being manipulated, and he also watered the seed of doubt with his actions, and in the end the Sheep turned their backs on Chuuya, which led to Chuuya joining the Port Mafia. 

I can say this was a small good deed, pulling Chuuya out, but the choice was Chuuya's and he just gave a push. 

ARMED DETECTIVE AGENCY

Dazai isn't a naturally kind and virtuous person, but he's trying, for Oda (oh boy).

The way he handled Kyoka's situation wasn't all rainbows and confetti. 

I have a feeling he's trying to look at the bigger picture, to save people (perhaps because he blames himself for Oda's death, but I'll set that aside temporarily due to the time), but his methods aren't... nice. Atsushi has gotten hurt multiple times, Akutagawa too. In some ways, I suppose I can understand some things are unavoidable, but still. 

Compared to how he treated Akutagawa, he's far better with Atsushi. He's treating him the way Oda treated him. 

Atsushi has a completely different mindset compared to Akutagawa. He's a selfless person, he fights injustice. If Dazai tried to treat him the way he treated Akutagawa, I can confirm that isn't gonna turn out good. 

Besides, he's trying to become a better person. That, and he owes Akutagawa an apology.

From this part onwards, these are all flash thoughts that I wrote quickly because I'm falling asleep by the minute.

FLASH THOUGHT #1 :

Now that's over with… I don't particularly have anything to add on. So I'm going to move onto… uh, how do I word this, facade?

I said above that his weapon is his intellect. It's clear that whatever he has on can be fake, or real. Y'know that goofy, playful Dazai we all know. 

He's probably able to control his every movement and actions. Like, I cannot imagine Dazai doing something ACCIDENTALLY. Imagine that, someone who can control his own heartbeat, doing something accidentally (unintentionally, he never meant to do it, yeah that would be surprising).

But then again he's human… despite being a strategic and tactical genius… so yes, him doing something on accident would be interesting to watch.

Now if he miscalculated or like mistaken, uh, like that time, with the hiker, BSD Season 3. Then, yes that's understandable. 

FLASH THOUGHT #2:

Mk… facade and accidents are covered… uh… I'll talk about the power he had when he was 14, Dark Era Dazai.

… He had enough sway in the mafia since he was 14 (correct me if I'm wrong). He was allowed to be the sole witness of the Boss's final wish. SOLE WITNESS. A young boy at the age of 14 was allowed to be the sole witness. 

He was considered to be the youngest executive in the Port Mafia. If so, then why didn't the other executives (during the reign of the Old Boss) fight over the choice to be the witness of the Boss's death other than Mori. Perhaps the Old Boss didn't have executives, but that's unlikely.  

Now, that's something.  

FLASH THOUGHT #3:

Talking about suicide… I think Dazai doesn't want to die, but he does. He's failed so many suicide attempts, some of them being sabotaged, but what about the others. 

Since Dazai didn't have anyone around his age constantly (save for Oda and Ango, but several years later… perhaps when he was 16, seeing how Oda and Dazai knew each other during the Dragon's Head Rush), he only had victories of his missions and such to comfort his loneliness.  

I think that it's practically ingrained in him. 

Dying means winning and losing. Your life is finished. 

If that's the case, dying would mean he lost (but won). It's conflicting and confusing as hell, I know ;-; . I'm trying to explain my thoughts the best I can - . 

When Chuuya came around, his loneliness was, um, calmed, a little. 

Oda died and gave him a reason to live.

I think he still feels a little lonely though.

That's the end. I'll be out like a light in about 3 mins so I'll just, drop a GIF and go before I start pressing anything on accident.

Yep, okay, bye bye.

oh, I forgot the hashtags, um .

Hashtags added.

Good night. :D

angel (noun): a colloquial term for the otherworldly tourists plaguing our dimension.

when dealing with angels, be not afraid, but do be cautious; they are well-meaning, but often do not understand trifles such as death or physics.

If you write a strong character, let them fail.

If you write a selfless hero, let them get mad at people.

If you write a cold-heated villain, let them cry.

If you write a brokenhearted victim, let them smile again.

If you write a bold leader, let them seek guidance.

If you write a confident genius, let them be wrong, or get stumped once in a while.

If you write a fighter or a warrior, let them lose a battle, but let them win the war.

If you write a character who loses everything, let them find something.

If you write a reluctant hero, give them a reason to join the fight.

If you write a gentle-hearted character who never stops smiling, let that smile fade and tears fall in shadows.

If you write a no one, make them a someone.

If you write a sibling, let them fight and bicker, but know that at the end of the day they’ll always have each other’s back.

If you write a character, make them more than just a character; give them depth, give them flaws and secrets, and give them life.

Journal Entry | October 2nd.

Being possessed by spirits has become such a part of me that I don’t always realize when I’m pushing too far. Whether it’s the warmth of a benevolent presence or the cold, gnawing dread of something darker, the experience is never quite the same. Each spirit has its own story, its own weight. And when they possess me, I don’t just see their memories—I feel them. Their anger, sorrow, joy, fear. All of it, as if it’s my own.

Sometimes, I’m at the center of their turmoil, reliving their deaths or their greatest regrets. Other times, it’s just glimpses—flashes of moments they can’t let go of, unfinished business they’re desperate to resolve. It’s exhausting. I’m pulled between their emotions and mine, lost in a haze of lives that don’t belong to me. And yet, I can’t turn them away. I’ve tried, but something inside me—this stubbornness, this responsibility—makes it impossible to stop.

Some days, it’s one or two spirits that find their way into me. Other days, it’s a steady stream, each one more desperate than the last. There are weeks where I’m possessed almost constantly, barely able to separate myself from the dead. Those are the hardest. I can feel my body breaking down, my spiritual energy draining until there’s almost nothing left. I always push myself too far. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t seem to stop.

The result is always the same: a fever that burns through me like fire, leaving me bedridden for days, sometimes a full week. It’s like being in a coma, trapped in my own body as it tries to recover from the strain. Three to five days of nothingness. I’m not even sure if I dream during those fevers, or if I’m just gone, floating somewhere between life and death.

I’ve tried to preserve my spiritual energy, to limit how many possessions I allow in a day, or at least to give myself rest between them. But no matter how hard I try, I always end up breaking my own rules. I can usually make it through a month if I’m careful, staying active just enough to keep the fever at bay. But it’s a fragile balance. One wrong move, one spirit too many, and it all comes crashing down.

I tell myself I’ll stop, that I’ll be more cautious. But I don’t. There’s always another spirit, another story. Another piece of someone’s life that needs to be told.

And I keep going, knowing full well that it’s only a matter of time before I’m back in bed, fighting off the fever again.

Journal Entry | October 7th

There are spirits I can tolerate—the lost souls, the ones who just want to be heard, to find peace. But then, there are others. Darker, more sinister presences that cling to people like shadows, or seep into the land itself, poisoning entire towns with their malice. These spirits... they're not just angry; they're violent, twisted things that live off the fear and misfortune of the living.

I can see them, and they can see me. That’s the problem. Some of them, when they catch sight of me, grow curious, wondering who I am, why I can see them. They follow me, like wolves circling, deciding whether I’m prey. The more aware ones—those that were human once but twisted into something far worse—talk to me. I’ve heard their threats, their promises of harm. They speak of things they’ve done, how they’ve cursed whole families or destroyed lives. Sometimes they don’t even try to hide it.

Some are puzzled by me, though. “So young,” they say, their voices rasping and dripping with disdain or amusement. They cackle when they realize I’m Ming-Ji’s granddaughter, the next one in line to continue the family’s work. A shaman, just like her, they say, voices filled with an eerie glee. They ask how long I’ll last, how much I can take before I break. Before they get to me, or worse—before I let them get to me. The way they watch me, it's like they’re waiting for the day I falter.

There’s one in particular I’ll never forget. I still feel shivers running down my spine when I think of it. It was... not human, not even close. Its body was elongated, scrawny, like all the flesh had been peeled away, leaving only bone and sinew. Its skin—what little there was of it—was stretched tight, paper-thin. And yet, for something so emaciated, it moved with such precision, like a predator toying with its prey, enjoying the chase before the kill.

Its voice... gods, I’ll never forget it. Nasally, hoarse, like it had been screaming for centuries and lost the ability to speak properly. It whispered in my ear once, when I wasn’t paying attention, too focused on another possession. "I see you, shaman. I know your name. I know your blood. And I'll be waiting."

I can still hear that voice sometimes, echoing in my mind when I least expect it. It never attacked me, not directly, but the way it watched me, the way it toyed with me like I was a piece in some game... I know it’s only biding its time. I’ve dealt with many spirits, but none like this one. None that felt so ancient, so utterly devoid of anything human.

I wonder if my grandmother ever encountered it. I never had the chance to ask her. Maybe she left it for me, like an inheritance I never wanted. All I know is that it’s still out there, lurking, waiting. And I’ll have to face it again.

- Haeseol.

Character Study: Where Love Fades, Duty Remains | Two Journal Entries

"Duty means doing the things your heart may well regret."

A character study of Haeseol, explored through the lens of the four types of love—storge (familial love), philia (friendship), eros (romantic love), and agape (unconditional love)—presents a layered, intricate portrait of her life across multiple incarnations. The quote "Duty means doing the things your heart may well regret" serves as a central theme, as Haeseol’s life is defined by the tension between her personal desires and the weight of duty, shaped by a relentless cycle of sacrifice and reincarnation.

### 1. Storge - Familial Love

Haeseol’s relationship with familial love is deeply entangled with the concept of duty. Across her incarnations—whether as Yueliang, Hae-Ri Jin, Bayan, or herself—the bonds of family are both a source of strength and a burden.

In each life, Haeseol’s connection with her family is marked by loss and expectation. Yueliang’s grandmother, Hae-Ri’s divine lineage, and Bayan’s protective mother all represent the idea of sacrifice for the greater good. These familial figures, like her own grandmother, have shaped Haeseol’s understanding of duty. They trained her, passed on their wisdom, and, in doing so, instilled the importance of fulfilling one’s role within the family and the world. Yet, this love is often bittersweet, as it comes at the expense of personal freedom and happiness.

For Haeseol, storge is not merely about warmth and comfort, but about the inheritance of duty. The sacrifices made by her ancestors in past lives have set a precedent for her own sacrifices. Her heart may well regret these choices—her desire for a normal life, for love untainted by obligation—but she cannot escape the weight of familial duty that has been passed down to her. Even when the love is deep and genuine, it is often overshadowed by the price she must pay to honor her lineage.

### 2. Philia - Friendship

Haeseol’s experience with friendship, or philia, is perhaps the most fragile aspect of her emotional life. Across her reincarnations, genuine friendships have been few, and they often crumble under the pressure of her responsibilities. As Yueliang, her friendships were strained by the political and martial conflicts that surrounded her; as Hae-Ri, she was isolated by her divine nature; and as Bayan, she was driven by her desire to save others, leaving little room for lasting bonds.

In her current life, Haeseol’s relationships are similarly strained by the burdens she carries. Her role as a shaman, a living deity to her people, distances her from those who might otherwise have been her equals. Friendship demands trust and vulnerability, but Haeseol cannot afford to be vulnerable in the ways that friendship requires. Her duty forces her to remain strong, isolated, and always in control.

However, there is a longing within Haeseol for philia, for a companionship that transcends duty and destiny. She yearns for someone who can see her beyond the role she has been given and value her for who she truly is. But time and again, the weight of her responsibilities has forced her to abandon such desires, leaving her heart to regret the friendships that could have been.

### 3. Eros - Romantic Love

Romantic love, eros, has been both Haeseol’s greatest joy and deepest wound across her many lives. The cycle of reincarnation has bound her to lovers in each life, and while her love has been powerful and transformative, it has also been marked by tragedy and loss.

In every incarnation—Yueliang, Hae-Ri, Bayan—her romantic love has been inextricably tied to her duty. Each time, her heart has chosen love, but that love has led to sacrifice. For Yueliang, love meant betraying her duty to her people; for Hae-Ri, love meant giving her body and soul to stop the divine madness; for Bayan, love meant saving another at the cost of her own life. And now, as Haeseol, romantic love is once again a potential source of both bliss and sorrow.

This pattern of eros always demands something of Haeseol—her heart’s deepest desires in conflict with the path she knows she must follow. The romantic love she experiences is always tainted by a sense of inevitability, as though duty will inevitably pull her away from her beloved, no matter how strong her feelings. Even when her heart wishes to surrender to the passion and joy of love, she knows it comes with a price, a duty that will leave her with regret.

### 4. Agape - Unconditional Love

Agape—unconditional love—is perhaps the most profound and most elusive form of love in Haeseol’s life. This type of love transcends personal relationships and speaks to the larger, more universal love that Haeseol has developed over the course of her many lifetimes. It is a love for humanity, for the world, and for the people she is destined to protect and serve.

Haeseol’s role as a shaman, as a protector of her people, embodies agape. In each life, she has sacrificed herself, not just for the individuals she loved, but for the greater good. This is the kind of love that is not driven by desire or personal attachment, but by a deep sense of responsibility.

In all her incarnations, Haeseol has shown a capacity for this kind of love, even though it often brings her great sorrow. She has always acted out of a desire to preserve life, to protect those who cannot protect themselves, and to fulfill her duty as a spiritual guide. But again, this love comes with a cost. Her heart may regret the personal sacrifices she must make in the name of agape, but she cannot turn away from it. It is a love that transcends her own pain and desires, one that requires her to place the needs of others above her own.

### Haeseol and Duty

The quote "Duty means doing the things your heart may well regret" encapsulates Haeseol’s entire emotional journey. Whether it is familial love, friendship, romantic love, or unconditional love, her relationships are all shaped by the tension between her personal desires and the duty that governs her life. In every life, Haeseol has been forced to make difficult choices—choices that her heart often regrets, but that her sense of duty compels her to make.

For Haeseol, love and duty are inseparable. Even though her heart may long for freedom, for peace, and for love unbound by responsibility, she understands that duty will always come first. This sense of duty is not just a burden—it is a defining feature of her character. Her willingness to make sacrifices, to endure loss and heartache for the sake of others, speaks to her strength and resilience.

However, the regret that accompanies these sacrifices cannot be ignored. Haeseol’s heart, shaped by the memories of her past lives and the tragedies she has endured, carries the weight of her decisions. She knows that love, in all its forms, will always demand something from her, and that her duty will always pull her in directions she does not want to go. Yet, despite this, Haeseol remains determined to continue on her path, even if her heart regrets it.

This internal conflict—between love and duty, between desire and obligation—is what makes Haeseol such a compelling character. She is someone who loves deeply and unconditionally, yet she is also someone who is bound by duty, unable to fully escape the sacrifices that love demands.

Journal Entry: Haeseol

The wind was cold today, sharper than usual as it cut through the mountains. Even the spirits seemed restless, their whispers tangled in the branches. I could feel their unease, their confusion, as if they, too, were lost in the world between life and death. The heaviness of their pain, their memories, clings to me long after they’re gone, lingering in my bones like an old bruise.

Sometimes I don’t know where their pain ends and mine begins.

They come to me. These spirits, these wandering souls, desperate and broken. Lost. I let them in—maybe because I’m too soft-hearted, maybe because I don’t know how to shut them out anymore. I see their lives, feel their regrets, their longing to return to something familiar. And, for a moment, I am them. I become their grief, their rage, their helplessness, trapped in the echoes of a life they can’t reclaim.

But when they leave, when they find peace or whatever closure I can offer, I’m left with the weight of their stories. And the emptiness that follows is almost unbearable. How many times have I come too close? How many nights have I stared into the eyes of a spirit more powerful than I could manage, hoping I’d make it through? Too many.

Each time, I wonder if this will be the one that pulls me under, that drowns me in their sorrow.

There are moments when I envy them—the spirits. They have already endured their endings, while I am caught in the middle of mine, over and over again.

They call me a goddess. "Shaman," "Seer," "Healer," "Guide"—each title is another layer I wear like armor. The people come to me, so full of trust, so certain that I hold the answers they need. They believe I can speak to the dead, that I can bless them, protect them, lead them out of their darkness. I don’t know how to tell them that I barely know how to lead myself. But I cannot fail them. I mustn’t. It’s not just my duty—it’s the only purpose I have left, the thread that ties me to this world.

The elders, the officials, even the high-born families—they all look to me with such reverence, their gazes heavy with expectation. Sometimes I feel like I’m suffocating under the weight of their faith. They don’t see me as a girl, as Haeseol. I am an idol to them, a living link to the divine, something otherworldly. The isolation that comes with that... it’s something no one ever warns you about. How could they, when they’ve never lived it?

When I sit before them, giving blessings or offering guidance, I see the way they look at me—like I am more than human. And in those moments, I wish they could see the truth. That I’m not a goddess, not some ethereal being blessed with wisdom beyond my years. I’m just a girl, exhausted from trying to be everything they need. But they can’t see the girl under the mantle. They can only see what they’ve made me out to be.

How ironic it is, that the spirits of the dead are easier to speak to than the living.

There are nights when I wish I could forget it all. Forget the responsibilities, forget the titles, forget the unrelenting pressure. I want to run—just once—to a place where no one knows my name, where no one calls me a goddess, where no one asks for a blessing or closure. Where I can be Haeseol, and nothing more. But that’s not a life meant for me. It never has been.

I’m young, too young for this kind of burden, and yet here I am, wearing it like a cloak that can never be removed. I suppose I’ve become used to the loneliness by now. It's a different kind of loneliness, one that creeps in when you’re surrounded by people who need you, but no one who sees you. Truly sees you.

I think about my past lives sometimes. The pieces of me scattered across time, all of them shaped by duty, by love, by loss. They, too, carried their burdens, didn’t they? Did they ever feel this tired? Did they ever wish for a different ending? Or did they accept their fate without question, without regret?

I don’t know if I can. I don’t know if I should.

But even with all the pain, all the exhaustion, I still feel something stir within me when I help someone find peace. When I see the relief wash over their faces, when they thank me for the closure I’ve given them, I know why I continue to do this. It’s what keeps me going, even when it feels like too much. The lives I touch, the ones I save—they make it worth it. Somehow.

I just hope that, one day, I’ll find peace for myself, too. Until then, I’ll keep carrying the weight of my duty, even if my heart regrets it.

The weight of love, in all its forms, presses down on me as heavily as the spirits I carry. There is no separating them, no dividing my heart from the duty that binds me to this world and the next. It would be a lie to say I haven’t dreamt of release—of abandoning the threads that tie me to the past, to lives I no longer live but can never forget. How easy it would be to let go, to stop feeling the pain of others as if it were my own.

But I can’t. I won’t.

I’ve inherited this mantle of service through so many lives, through the blood and tears of those who came before me. They were mothers and daughters, warriors and healers, each one passing down their knowledge, their burdens. I am the sum of their choices, shaped by a lineage that stretches back farther than I can comprehend.

And though I love them for the wisdom they imparted, for the strength they bequeathed me, I sometimes wonder what it would feel like to be just...me.

The people look to me as if I were a goddess. I am their answer, their blessing, their guide through the dark. They come to me with their grief, their confusion, their need to know that their loved ones rest peacefully on the other side. And I open myself to them, letting the spirits flood in—so many voices, so many memories. I become them for a time. I see their lives, feel their joys and pains, and the weight of it leaves me hollowed out, empty, until there’s nothing left but echoes.

I’ve lost count of the times I’ve stood on the edge, close to slipping into that other world and never returning. The spirits linger so close, too close, and sometimes I think they want to take me with them. They whisper to me in the night, their sorrow wrapping itself around my heart like tendrils of smoke. And it hurts—feeling their regret, their anger, their loneliness. But what hurts more is that I understand them. I carry my own regrets, my own love that has been sacrificed to this duty. Perhaps that is why I can never turn them away. They are me. We are one.

I wonder, sometimes, if it would be different—if I could love freely, without this constant pull toward sacrifice. Friendship, romantic love…all of it feels so fragile when measured against the weight of the world I hold. I’ve tried to let people in, to find comfort in the company of others. But there’s always that distance. Always the knowledge that they cannot truly see me.

They see what I represent—this sacred figure who bears the burdens of life and death. How could they see past that? How could anyone love me without feeling the heaviness of it all?

I’ve known love in many forms, across many lives. Each time it has been beautiful, fleeting, and always marked by loss. My heart aches for what was, for the love I had to let go of to fulfill my duty. Each time I’ve chosen to walk away, even when every part of me screamed to stay.

I regret it. I regret the choices I’ve made to protect others at the cost of my own happiness. But what is love if not sacrifice? What is duty if not love?

There is a love that is larger than me, larger than all of us. It pulls at me constantly, asking me to give more than I have, to lay down my desires and dreams for the sake of those who cannot protect themselves. It is a love that transcends the personal, the intimate. It is a love for humanity itself. And yet, even this love feels like a chain, one that binds me to a path I can never leave.

In the quiet moments, when the spirits are still and the world fades to silence, I allow myself to feel the weight of it all. I let the loneliness wash over me, the ache of a heart that has given more than it could ever hold. And I wonder…how much more can I bear before I break?

But I cannot break. I cannot falter. Because this is my duty. It always has been.

And duty means doing the things your heart may well regret.

HEY that's MY emotional support morally ambiguous misunderstood full of trauma touch starved yearning for love drenched in blood responsible for numerous atrocities comfort character who is TRYING & u will TREAT them with RESPECT

Character Study: Haeseol Kim, The Hybrid

## Haeseol Kim: The Hybrid Weapon

Haeseol Kim’s existence is the result of both biological experimentation and spiritual inheritance. Engineered from the stolen DNA of Captain America and Saya Otonashi, Haeseol combines the physical perfection of a super-soldier with the predatory instincts and abilities of a chiropteran queen. She is both an experiment in biological dominance and an unpredictable variable—neither fully human nor entirely chiropteran. Haeseol embodies the best and worst of both worlds: the potential for heroism, violence, salvation, and destruction.

Though she was created without consent, her existence introduces an element of resistance—an inherent autonomy that disrupts the control her creators, the Red Shield organization, seek to maintain. This resistance is mirrored in her biology, where her blood can either heal or destroy based on her will. The queen’s absolute consent has always governed the use of her blood throughout chiropteran history. Haeseol’s hybrid nature raises profound questions about identity, autonomy, and power, as she becomes a force that neither humanity nor the chiropterans fully understand or control.

## Red Shield’s Agenda: The Weaponization of a Hybrid

Red Shield’s creation of Haeseol reflects the organization’s desire to weaponize biology and exploit the power of both humans and chiropterans. While the organization has long fought to eliminate chiropterans, Haeseol represents a new strategy—one that merges the biological advantages of both species into a single weapon. Red Shield’s ambition is to leverage her blood to heal, enhance, and transform, all while maintaining influence over world governments. However, Haeseol’s existence as a hybrid disrupts their ability to fully exploit her, introducing the possibility that their creation might outgrow their control.

Her blood’s dual nature—capable of healing diseases but also transforming recipients into chiropterans—symbolizes the precarious balance between salvation and corruption. The failsafe built into her blood ensures that any unauthorized use results in instantaneous death, maintaining the ancient chiropteran principle that the queen’s blood cannot be exploited without her consent. This autonomy complicates Red Shield’s plans, as her cooperation becomes a critical factor in determining the success or failure of their experiments and political ambitions.

## The Chiropteran Queens and the Reproductive Divide

Chiropteran society is structured around a strict matriarchal hierarchy, with each generation governed by twin queens. These queens maintain power by turning human males on the brink of death into chevaliers—immortal warriors bound by blood and compelled to obey. The queens' dominance is absolute: reproduction occurs only within their species, as mating between queens and their sister’s chevaliers is the sole means of sustaining the bloodline. Male chiropteran offspring, an impossible outcome, are viewed as defects if conceived, reinforcing the queens’ biological and social supremacy.

The tradition of a queen’s absolute control over her blood ensures that no transformation or healing can occur without her permission—a principle that predates Haeseol’s creation. However, Haeseol’s hybrid existence disrupts this reproductive order. Her creation challenges the natural boundaries of the chiropteran hierarchy, making her an anomaly neither entirely human nor fully queen. The combination of human ingenuity and chiropteran biology creates a being with the potential to reshape both species, blurring the lines between predator, protector, and victim.

## A Modern-Day Goddess: Haeseol’s Role as a Shaman and Spiritual Leader

Her mastery over the spiritual realm has elevated her above ordinary shamans, granting her an almost divine status in the eyes of those she serves. Even at a young age, Haeseol is regarded as a living goddess—her ability to mediate between the material and spiritual worlds seen as evidence of her supernatural authority. In a society where spirituality and survival are intertwined, Haeseol’s power as a shaman places her in a unique position: she is not only a protector but also a figure of worship, embodying both the sacred and the dangerous.

Beyond her hybrid nature, Haeseol’s spiritual heritage grants her a status that transcends biology. Trained under her grandmother—the last shaman of the Kim family—Haeseol inherited both sacred knowledge and responsibility. As a shaman, Haeseol allows her body to become a vessel for spirits, willingly channeling both benevolent and malevolent entities. Unlike other shamans, who merely act as mouthpieces for the spirits they summon, Haeseol's spiritual energy and capabilities comes from three distinct past lives connected to a cosmic divinity, two of which being goddesses of divine power and presence.

## Biological Power and Global Intrigue

Red Shield’s intention to play multiple sides in global politics reflects the complex nature of Haeseol’s blood, which holds immense value as both a weapon and a cure. Governments see in her the potential to heal diseases and create enhanced soldiers, but her chiropteran lineage complicates these ambitions. The transformation into a chiropteran—triggered by improper use of her blood—introduces a volatile element into any attempt to exploit her power. Haeseol herself becomes a symbol of the tension between control and chaos, as her blood is both a gift and a curse, capable of saving lives or ending them in an instant.

Red Shield’s manipulation of Haeseol also reflects broader themes of autonomy and consent. Her blood, governed by the ancient principle that a queen’s will cannot be bypassed, represents the ultimate expression of personal agency. This tension between autonomy and exploitation highlights the fragility of control: while Red Shield may have created her, they cannot fully govern the consequences of their creation.

## Apex Predators and the Limits of Control

Chiropterans are apex predators, surpassing traditional vampires in strength, adaptability, and endurance. Unlike mythological vampires, they are immune to sunlight and holy objects, making them biologically superior. Their power lies not only in their physical abilities but also in their hierarchical structure, where queens command absolute authority over their chevaliers. Male chevaliers, while enhanced and immortal, remain bound by the blood connection to their queen, driven by instinct to obey, protect, and serve.

Haeseol’s existence as a hybrid disrupts this balance. The fusion of human and chiropteran biology creates a new type of predator—one with the physical prowess of a queen and the unpredictability of human emotion. Her existence challenges the natural order of chiropteran society, introducing a threat that cannot be easily categorized or controlled. This unpredictability forces both Red Shield and the chiropterans to confront the possibility that power cannot always be contained within predefined boundaries.

## Conclusion: Identity, Power, and Transformation

Haeseol Kim’s story is one of disruption—of biological, social, and spiritual boundaries. As a hybrid born from stolen DNA, she challenges the structures that govern both human and chiropteran societies, standing at the intersection of two worlds that view her as a tool rather than an individual. Her blood, with its capacity to heal, transform, or destroy, becomes a metaphor for the delicate balance between freedom and control, salvation and corruption.

Her role as a shaman further complicates this narrative, elevating her to the status of a living goddess. She is both feared and revered, embodying a type of power that transcends biology and touches on the spiritual. This divine status, combined with her hybrid nature, positions Haeseol as a force capable of redefining the rules that govern both humanity and chiropterans.

Ultimately, Haeseol’s journey explores the consequences of manipulating biology, spirituality, and power for personal and political gain. She is not just a weapon or a leader; she is a symbol of transformation, challenging the very foundations of identity and control. As the lines between predator and protector, human and divine, begin to blur, Haeseol’s existence asks profound questions about the nature of power and what it means to be truly free.

### The Transformation of Haeseol’s Chevalier: Power, Control, and Instincts in Conflict

The transformation of Haeseol’s chevalier delves into the nuanced interplay of violence, submission, and autonomy. It presents a deeper struggle between biological compulsion and free will, complicated by the unique strain of super-soldier serum that courses through Haeseol’s blood. While the queen’s blood strengthens the chevalier, it also binds him in profound ways, compelling him to protect, nourish, and serve—whether willingly or not. This tension between instinct and autonomy explores themes of dependency, identity, and the erosion of personal agency within a symbiotic relationship.

### Obedience and Violence in Conflict

At the core of the chevalier’s transformation lies a paradox: while empowered with extraordinary abilities, he is also trapped within a state of enforced servitude. Haeseol’s blood instills unshakable commands—he is compelled to submit to her needs, allow her to feed from him, and, most crucially, never harm her. Yet this unyielding loyalty clashes with the amplified aggression brought on by the super-soldier serum coursing through his veins. This serum heightens his violent instincts, creating a dangerous tension between his urge to unleash destruction and the unbreakable command to protect Haeseol at all costs.

This internal battle between rage and restraint introduces a complex psychological toll. His instincts are at odds: the serum primes him for violence, while Haeseol’s blood reins him in, binding him with commands beyond conscious control. The chevalier’s very existence is shaped by this duality—he is a weapon, but one that can only be aimed in directions permitted by the queen. This conflict fosters moments of instability, where the chevalier teeters between the need to assert control over his own actions and the overwhelming compulsion to submit to her will.

### Dependency and Blood as Control

Blood serves as both a source of power and a means of control within this symbiotic relationship. Haeseol, as queen, relies on her chevalier’s blood to sustain her strength, especially as she nears hibernation—a vulnerable period when her senses dull, and lethargy takes hold. Without regular nourishment from his blood, she weakens, making their bond one of survival as much as control. This dependency is one-sided & inherently unbalanced: while the chevalier relies on blood to maintain his abilities, he is compelled to place Haeseol’s needs above his own. Feeding from her is not only taboo but deeply ingrained as forbidden, even if she offers it. This intimate cycle of consumption blurs the boundary between closeness and captivity, ensuring the chevalier can never truly escape Haeseol’s influence.

Haeseol’s blood acts as a biological leash, constraining the chevalier’s actions even as it empowers him. It compels him to prioritize her well-being above all else, forcing him to offer his blood willingly, no matter the toll it takes on his body. The chevalier’s every instinct revolves around protecting and feeding her, even when his violent tendencies push him toward dangerous extremes. This dynamic complicates the nature of consent—while the chevalier’s actions may seem voluntary on the surface, they are shaped by forces beyond his control, blurring the line between willing service and enforced submission.

### Transformation and the Strain of Dual Identity

The transformation from human to chevalier is not merely a physical shift but a profound psychological rupture. The chevalier must grapple with the reality that his former self is fading, replaced by a creature governed by instincts he cannot fully understand. Memories of his past life persist like ghosts, offering fleeting reminders of what he once was, but these memories are overshadowed by the constant need to serve and protect his queen.

This conflict becomes even more pronounced as the chevalier confronts the violent nature of his new form. Moments of aggression and bloodlust provide brief clarity, revealing the depths of his transformation and the struggle to retain any sense of humanity. These moments of violence reflect not just his monstrous nature but also the impact of the serum, which primes him to kill efficiently and without hesitation. Yet, despite the overwhelming urge to unleash his strength, the queen’s influence holds him back, forcing him into a precarious balance between destruction and control.

### The Queen-Chevalier Bond: Survival, Control, and Intimacy

The relationship between Haeseol and her chevalier is marked by both intimacy and dependency. While the chevalier is compelled to serve her, his devotion takes on emotional dimensions that are difficult to disentangle from biological compulsion. Haeseol becomes the axis around which his existence revolves, blurring the boundaries between duty and desire. Yet, despite the emotional depth of this bond, it is underpinned by an inescapable imbalance of power.

Haeseol’s dependency on her chevalier’s blood underscores the vulnerability inherent in their relationship. As she approaches her hibernation cycle, her senses grow dull, and her physical strength wanes, making her reliant on him for protection and sustenance. In these moments, the chevalier’s role becomes even more critical—he must not only guard her against external threats but also ensure that she receives enough of his blood to maintain her vitality. This dynamic reinforces his sense of purpose but also amplifies the psychological strain, as his instincts are driven by both love and obligation.

### The Psychological Toll of Compelled Submission

The chevalier’s existence is one of constant tension, shaped by conflicting desires and enforced servitude. The super-soldier serum heightens his capacity for violence, making him a formidable protector but also a danger to himself and those around him. His every instinct is sharpened, pushing him toward aggression, yet Haeseol’s blood restrains him, creating a perpetual struggle between impulse and control.

This struggle exacts a heavy psychological toll, leaving the chevalier in a state of inner turmoil. He is forced to navigate a web of conflicting emotions—rage, loyalty, love, and resentment—while grappling with the reality that his actions are not entirely his own. The knowledge that he will never harm Haeseol, even at the cost of his own life, becomes both a source of comfort and a reminder of his lost autonomy. In the end, the chevalier must confront the terrifying realization that his identity is no longer defined by who he was, but by what he has become: a creature bound by blood, instinct, and unbreakable loyalty.

### Conclusion: A Life Caught Between Violence and Devotion

The chevalier’s transformation under Haeseol’s influence is a journey marked by conflict, trauma, and adaptation. He exists in a state of duality, torn between the violent instincts amplified by the serum and the enforced submission dictated by her blood. His life becomes a delicate balance between protecting his queen and managing the psychological strain of his new nature.

Haeseol, in turn, depends on her chevalier not only for protection but also for survival. Their relationship is both symbiotic and hierarchical, marked by moments of intimacy and control, devotion and dependency. The chevalier’s journey is one of self-discovery and loss, as he struggles to find meaning in a life dominated by instincts and obligations he cannot escape.

In the end, the chevalier’s existence is defined by the tension between what he was and what he has become—a powerful, dangerous being who must learn to reconcile his violent nature with the demands of loyalty and love. Whether he can find peace within this new existence or be consumed by the beast within remains the ultimate question—a question that will shape not only his fate but the future of his bond with Haeseol.

HAE-SEOL KIM

CHARACTER COLOR: PINK

The color pink is often associated with themes of love, compassion, and gentleness. It evokes feelings of warmth, affection, and sensitivity. When associated with a person, pink can symbolize nurturing qualities, tenderness, and empathy. It also reflects an openness to emotional expression and a soft, caring nature.

In some contexts, pink represents innocence, especially in its lighter shades, and can be linked to femininity, youthful energy, and playfulness. For others, it can signify a romantic outlook or a deep connection to emotional and intimate experiences. Bright pinks may also symbolize confidence, vitality, and a lively spirit.

In psychology, pink is sometimes used to calm and soothe emotions, and it’s considered a color that reduces aggression. As such, for someone favoring or resonating with pink, it could suggest a harmonious, peace-seeking personality.

Overall, the symbolism of pink often revolves around emotional openness, affection, and an orientation toward caring and connection.

HAE-SEOL KIM

CHARACTER COLOR: BLUE

The color blue is often associated with calmness, stability, and trust. It evokes a sense of serenity, peace, and reliability, making it a color linked to clarity and intellect. When related to a person, blue can symbolize a rational, thoughtful, and introspective nature. It suggests someone who values calm environments and approaches life with a sense of balance and patience.

Blue is also tied to feelings of loyalty and trustworthiness, often reflecting dependability and a strong moral compass. It can indicate emotional depth, suggesting a person who is introspective and values meaningful, authentic connections.

Lighter shades of blue, like sky blue, are associated with tranquility, openness, and healing, while darker shades, like navy, convey authority, professionalism, and maturity.

In psychology, blue is known to have a soothing effect, which can help lower stress and encourage mental clarity, making it a popular color in spaces meant for relaxation or focus.

Overall, blue reflects calmness, trust, intellect, and emotional depth when connected to a person’s personality or aura.

Daaaw, look at them. <3

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It’s the protags! ✍️

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More character sheets for another Minecraft fic but based on Tangled this time!

I ended up creating a whole magic system, world, and mythology that was so far removed from both Minecraft and Tangled that I just made it an original story, but with those two elements as a base.

Commission work, yo!

God I love “We’re enemies, but we’ve been enemies for a long time, which is sort of like being friends.” Great trope.