Fantasy The Good, The Bad, And The Dirty

[morumana]

/* ------ left side ------ */

/* ------ left side info ------ */

mood: Bittersweet

location: ???

outfit: Casual

fun fact: Left-Handed

Han Ronan

/* ------ right side ------ */

Although he had made their reunion sweet, as Dagan opened his mouth, Ronan’s fake smile grew to be a blank slate, listening and watching him as he began to refuse. To try and get away despite his condition. Ronan had been living a lie, a sham. And though he was conflicted, he couldn’t just gloss it over. Reaching for the others leg again, he squeezed the wound he’d made with the knife previously. Digging his nails into the tender spot as his expression morphed between all sorts of negatives. Swiftly, he'd turn his head to burn down the drone, buying some time before more showed up. He turned around again.

“Do you think you get that choice?” he asked, pulling him back towards himself as he again trapped him into a hug. Voice softened as he again cradled his head underneath his chin. A low rasp as he leaned next to his ear. “I’ll break your leg if you try to run.” he let out. Calm and smooth as butter as he shut his eyes for a moment. “I’ll take you where I go to get fixed up, nobody will know a thing. Okay?” He insisted, continuing to hold Dagan by the injury. Feeling as something wet dripped down the length of his arm.

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[cultmentality]

Dagan Iman.

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Dagan's grasp on the railing of the balcony weakened as Ronan dug his nails into the wound. "Oh my god," he said weakly. "Let go of my fucking leg!" Don't fucking touch me. Get your fucking hands off of me. He didn't know why he had even shown that small desperation. He was in horrible pain, and the feeling from the other's nails made Dagan raise his hands and grab the other's wrist. However, his body shifted as the other hugged him close. I'll break your leg if you try to run. His skin crawled at the words, Dagan was moving frantically.

The other's hand digging into his wound again caused a raspy sound of displeasure as the other dug his fingers deeper. "Let go of me," he pratically screamed. Dagan could feel anger and discomfort in his mind, it was seeping out. You're hurting me. You're doing it again. It's like he said, you let me die before. You're hurting me, stop it. "This is fucking- fine. Fine! I'll go but let go of my leg!" He had dug his nails into the other's wrist, sitting up and staring right at him. "Please." The desperation had sunken into his voice, dark eyes full of pain.

who knows

joy again

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[morumana]

/* ------ left side ------ */

/* ------ left side info ------ */

mood: Bittersweet

location: ???

outfit: Casual

fun fact: Left-Handed

Han Ronan

/* ------ right side ------ */

He was just waiting for the other to give in, submit. It’s not that he really wanted to hurt him, but he had learned very early on that pain was a great motivator. So he applied it with the same cruelty Dagan probably would have. But it wasn’t malicious, unlike what Dagan probably thought as he let go as asked. Wiping his bloodied hand on his pant leg before he was back to just holding him. Running his fingers soothingly through his hair as he thought about how he’d get him back.

He seemed to finally come to a conclusion after a couple of minutes, tearing his sleeve on his overcoat to wrap it tightly, but not too painfully around the stab wound. Somehow fairing better when he had more severe cuts on his hands, arms, and body. Making sure it was secure he let out a soft sigh. “Get on my back. I’ll carry you.” he insisted. Motioning Dagan to do so.

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[cultmentality]

Dagan Iman.

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The closeness between them both was overwhelming. Dagan wanted to run away, but he fully believed Ronan would end up breaking his leg. His leg hurt anyway. His nose was probably broken, but it didn't bother him. He could only stare at Ronan. Why the fuck are you helping me? You did this. I mean... I did too but its because of you. Your're the reason I'm like this Ronan. He hesitated as the other told him to climb onto his back. Dagan hesitated, reaching up to his shoulder and finding the familiar button that would get rid of the barbs. If the other was going to help him, Dagan could avoid harming Ronan. For now.

"How far?" Was all Dagan could ask. He had pressed his face into Ronan's shoulder, not wanting to look at the other. His head ached, his joints felt sore. His whole body felt like it was on fire. He couldn't see his arms, but he knew they were full of burns and blisters from the other's heat. Despite this, the warmth radiating off of Ronan was horribly familiar. It reminded him of before. He was embarrassed that he still thought of the world before all of this, he wanted to forget about it. He needed to forget about it.

"Everything hurts," he mumbled to the other. "You're really fucking strong." It wasn't a compliment. There was no hint of teasing, as Dagan may have done before this. It was blunt, tired sounding. Dagan's voice was hoarse from having been unused for so long. He didn't have many people to talk to. So he figured it was fine. It wasn't.

who knows

joy again

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[morumana]

/* ------ left side ------ */

/* ------ left side info ------ */

mood: Bittersweet

location: ???

outfit: Casual

fun fact: Left-Handed

Han Ronan

/* ------ right side ------ */

“I only stopped because it was you.” He murmured back, bouncing Dagan up on his back a bit to allow himself to get a better hold. He didn’t want to look at the man on his back either. Wincing as the other rested on his shoulder, he would lean his head away. Gritting his teeth as the stab wound bled under the pressure, only slightly making it through the fabric. But he powered through.

“Maybe half an hour. It’s a small clinic. They already knew my identity, they won’t look up your previous records and whatnot. So you’ll be safe there.” He explained, keeping a steady pace as his listened for the sound of whirling drones. Picking up the speed each time he would hear them, to make sure they got away without the press following them. Why he was trying so hard for Dagan? He didn’t know. He felt it was wrong but felt it was right too.

“I got strong because of you.” He then whispered, not really bothering to elaborate as he kept his body warm. Feeling as the cold night air blew against his face, he acted like a heated pillow, carefully taking the man on his back with enough awareness not to jostle him around too much before finally, he set him onto some dingy mattress in a decently professional looking building, with a table of supplies sat off the the side and “doctors” combing over what Ronan had done. Even trying to get Ronan cleaned up to which he seemed to refuse, motioning to Dagan instead as he spoke some foreign language to them.

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[cultmentality]

Dagan Iman.

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Was he meant to take that as a compliment? He had no interest in such a thing. “Okay,” he mumbled. “Okay. I’m not fuckin’ dead though. You worry too much…” They hadn’t seen each other in years, but he didn’t care. “It hurts though.” He wanted to start crying. He could feel his eyes watering, but turned his head away so he have to let Ronan see himself crying quietly. The words from Roman just got a groan of discontent. He didn’t care about it. Sure, Ronan got strong for him. You weren’t strong though. I don’t know why I’m here. I cant stand you but I love you. I’ll never say that though. It’s so bad.

Silence filled the air as the other placed him on the mattress. There was no way Ronan meant that. “That’s dumb. You shouldn’t have,” he told the other. He had closed his eyes and sunk into the mattress. His eyes hurt, his body hurt. He had closed his eyes tightly, curling in on himself as best he could. He didn’t want anyone to touch him. But that didn’t last, strangers beginning to fuss over his injuries made him feel ill. Finally, they left, leaving Dagan to stare at the ceiling. His vision was still blurred, but he could easily survive it. He was sure he was fine.

who knows

joy again

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[morumana]

/* ------ left side ------ */

/* ------ left side info ------ */

mood: Bittersweet

location: ???

outfit: Casual

fun fact: Left-Handed

Han Ronan

/* ------ right side ------ */

Love seemed to be an empty concept to Ronan. Love was something he wanted, something he had cherished and kept deep in his heart for Dagan. But now it all felt so empty, so utterly worthless. The idea of it melting the longer he sat on the seat beside the mattress, having his own wounds eventually looked at as he undressed the top half of himself. The nasty scar of his curving even to his back, looking as though he was cut in half at one point. Some injuries were familiar, and others obviously done by other villains Ronan had fought.

“Shut the fuck up.” He eventually sneered, turning his head to leer at Dagan. Hunching his posture as he got stitched up. Face tense with his own pain. Damp towels laying around that Ronan used to clean his hands. Ronan grimaced at the amount of grime that stuck to his fingers as he flexed them. Blood soaked and mixed with street germs and bacteria that he painstakingly washed off. Showing off his shredded knuckles.

“I don’t know what happened.” He then began. “To make you do this. And I won’t ask. But I’m sorry.” He huffed. Rubbing at his stiff neck. The wet towel steaming slightly as he then cleaned off his face. “I looked for you. For months. I followed every clean up, dug in every truck. This explains why I couldn’t find a body.” He grumbled.

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[cultmentality]

Dagan Iman.

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He wanted to slap the other. He wanted to scream at Ronan and tell the other man that he hated him. Ronan had done nothing for him, and now was bitching about not having found Dagan. He rolled his eyes, reaching up and finally sitting upright. He had rubbed his eyes, feeling his hands shaking as he did so.

“Right.” He looked at the other with disinterest in his dark gaze. He didn’t want to drag this on. He wanted to leave. He was sure he could stand up. “Are there fucking painkillers here?” Dagan refused to say anything more. However, the other saying he looked for him made the dark haired man laugh. “You’re actually so annoying. Did you bring me here to just bitch at me?” His eyes were full of disdain as he stared at Ronan.

I didn’t choose to do this. Unlike you, the Oni actually helped me out. He saved me. He stopped me from dying. You were going to leave me. I don’t give a fuck if you say you were looking for me. I don’t know if you did.

“I didn’t…” He trailed off. His eyes narrowed slightly. “Whatever. This is a fuckin’ waste of time. I cant stay here.”

who knows

joy again

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[morumana]

/* ------ left side ------ */

/* ------ left side info ------ */

mood: Bittersweet

location: ???

outfit: Casual

fun fact: Left-Handed

Han Ronan

/* ------ right side ------ */

Ronan had never been the type to raise his voice. Actually, his screaming before would have probably been the first time Dagan ever would have heard him vocally lash out like he did. But he could help the building frustration as he strained to control his rage, standing up to hover over Dagan. He would reach out, grasping him by the shoulder, keeping his face nice and close as smoke bellowed threateningly from his nose. “Yes-“ he snapped. “I did bring you here to bitch at you-“ he strained, baring his teeth in a way that tried to smile, yet couldn’t quite.

Pushing on Dagan to go back down, Ronan used his other hand to point at himself. At all the injuries that he gave him. “Do you feel nothing, looking at what you’ve done to me?” He asked sincerely. “All of this… this one-“ he pointed at the the one that trailed to his back. “I got when trying to grab you when the buildings fell, I can’t feel my fingers on this hand anymore, I can move them, but there’s nothing.” He pointed at his eye now. “I can’t see out of this eye either, this was you, right?” He asked searching Dagan’s face for answers.

“You haunt my dreams. You’re always dead, crushed under that building. Begging me to find you.” He grimaced again. Grabbing at his chest. “I tried so hard, Dagan. And you feel nothing? Nothing at all?”

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[cultmentality]

Dagan Iman.

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For some reason, hearing Ronan point out the scar he got from allegedly trying to save him made Dagan's expression shift. "I didn't do that!" The injury on the other's body. The eye, yes. But he was referring to the one that stopped his hand from having feeling. "I was out for like a week after all that." He stared at the other, betrayal almost showing on his face. "He was the one who helped me. I- He helped me get better." Dagan stared for a moment. He owed the Oni to do this. He had been saved by the older man.

Alexander had been kind to Dagan, even if he had been a condescending prick. He missed him sometimes, because now he was stuck living alone. In the most boring place ever. The other speaking made him sigh softly. "What do you want me to say?" He looked at the other, visibly dejected. "I'm not the same as I was then. I- a lot happened." He crinkled his nose. Dagan had surely sustained plenty of injuries from that one event alone. He couldn't hear out of his left ear, he walked with a slight limp. Dagan was trying to make things work. There was an ugly, long scar on his stomach. He hated it all. "Ronan, this is the only way I'm able to exist now." He spoke simply, with a frown on his face.

"Did you really look for me?" Disbelief was laced into his words, eyes scanning the other's face in hopes of being able to discern the truth. "He found me first. So you couldn't have-" He cut himself off, turning away from a moment to cough, spitting blood into his hands. Not that he minded.

who knows

joy again

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[morumana]

/* ------ left side ------ */

/* ------ left side info ------ */

mood: Bittersweet

location: ???

outfit: Casual

fun fact: Left-Handed

Han Ronan

/* ------ right side ------ */

Ronan chuckled, in disbelief that Dagan doubted his words. He leaned back. Letting go of Dagan’s shoulder as he moved to try and pull a shirt on. No longer really wanting to have this conversation. “By the time I got the shit off of me it had been hours. I’m not as strong as you think I am. You were right, I’m not invincible. But I’ve lived every day repenting for what happened to you, beating myself up over it when, while I’m thinking about it, I did everything I could have possibly done then.” He huffed, keeping that bitter, broken smile as he turned only slightly to look at Dagan.

“I loved you.” He then added. “I loved you so much that I couldn’t allow myself to stop until I could at least find a scrap of something. I spent nights and days doing everything I could to I don’t know- avenge you? Because it wasn’t me who blew those buildings to kingdom come, it wasnt me.” He huffed.

Picking the mask Dagan made up, he would shove it into the other man’s chest. Showing he no longer wanted it by down right rejecting it as he cracked his neck. “The only thing I did wrong was try to show you how much I cared, because I’ve always been too shy to say it.” He sneered.

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[cultmentality]

Dagan Iman.

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"What?" Dagan didn't want the stupid mask, he just set it aside on the ground. His hands trembled with frustration. The way the other was speaking to him made him want to start sobbing. He wasn't a stupid child. He wasn't stupid. "Don't fucking talk to me like that." The words fell bluntly from his lips. "I'm not fucking stupid. I'm not a child. Just because I- because I'm doing this. I'm not stupid. I didn't have a choice. Do you think I-" He stopped himself, slender fingers curling into fists. Now of course, they were crooked from having been broken and healing haphazardly.

The other's words made Dagan sigh. He didn't know what else to say. "It's whatever." He narrowed his eyes. "Things change, Ronan. I don't know what to tell you. I've not been able to do anything but this since that happened. I can't fucking hear out of this ear," he gestured to his left side. "Everything is a fucking mess, but I'm not some fucking patient genius. Everyone think's I'm dead. I thought I was fucking dead or was gonna die for like two months. So sorry that I'm doing-" That made him hesitate. "What works for me. I'm not supposed to be alive." He stared for a moment.

He shrugged after a moment, standing and glancing around the room in silent hopes of gaining his bearings. He wanted to be able to see the way out and fucking leave. "I can't do this." He muttered. It was a waste of time, really.

who knows

joy again

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[morumana]

/* ------ left side ------ */

/* ------ left side info ------ */

mood: Bittersweet

location: ???

outfit: Casual

fun fact: Left-Handed

Han Ronan

/* ------ right side ------ */

Ronan just continued to chuckle. Feeling dumber the longer they had this conversation. It was more unbelievable what dagan was saying, yet Ronan questioned nothing. He wanted to find something to not be mad at, he wanted closure, but as the other complained about not being able to hear, Ronan bubbled over, a mass of flames escaping as he threw his head the other way. Incapable of grounding himself as he yelled, angrier with each second.

“Who gives a fuck!?” The words boiled. “If I ever see you again, Dagan, as you or even the Oni, I’ll do more than break your leg. I’ll fucking shatter it, I’ll deafen you in your other ear too!” he exclaimed. Shoving past the man with his face reddening. He wasn’t being honest, but his rage was so blinding he couldn’t control himself. “And when you realize you’re wrong, don’t come find me.”

With that, he left, leaving dagan behind at the clinic as he literally and metaphorically blew off some steam. Unable to fathom the bullshit that Dagan was saying about “how people change.” when it didn’t even apply to their situation. What changed was Dagan choosing to believe such an obvious lie. And it drove the hero mad. And what was more maddening was the constant thread of notifications that began to spam his phone. All in conjunction to the revelation of his identity.

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[cultmentality]

Dagan Iman.

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Ronan storming out made Dagan roll his eyes, wanting to tell the other to shut up. He didn't get the chance though, watching as the other left the building. Ignoring the discomfort that lingered, he followed after the other. It took a moment, but he had caught up to Ronan. He had grasped the other's shoulder, pulling him back just slightly. He had to silently rush himself, not wanting to fall behind. The pain in his leg was killing him though.

"Ronan, I..." He thought for a moment, furrowing his brow. "I'm sorry that I don't have the kinda response you wanna hear. I- it's good to see you again after everything." There was a frown on his face as he looked at the other man. "I- I didn't... I don't know how to explain this all to you." Because I don't feel guilty at all. So you'll hate me. You'll scream at me for being a piece of shit or something. "You shouldn't have done that, by the way."

His voice had taken a more severe tone. "Now they all know. That was stupid." He dind't know what else to say, trying not to chastize the other. At the same time, he couldn't not do it. "You shouldn't be doing any of this. Any of the hero shit." I wish you weren't a hero. It's ruined you.

who knows

joy again

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[morumana]

/* ------ left side ------ */

/* ------ left side info ------ */

mood: Bittersweet

location: ???

outfit: Casual

fun fact: Left-Handed

Han Ronan

/* ------ right side ------ */

Now it was Ronan’s turn to be confused. Why was he suddenly talking like he cared? Why was he critiquing his choice to out himself just like he would before? It was painful, that little twinge of hope that fluttered in his chest for even the smallest moment before he smothered it dead. Turning to set his head gently on Dagan’s shoulder now, he allowed his heart to weaken, and his eyes to well up just slightly. He knew better, he knew that Dagan really didn’t care for him deep down. But it was a comfort hed wanted for a long, long time. And when faced with the opportunity he seized it.

His face cooled, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he felt a tear roll down his face, then another, and then multiple as they flooded from his eyes. Fists shaking as he held his phone. “I know. I did it on purpose.” he croaked, not having it in himself to yell at Dagan anymore. “So kill me, it’s what you wanted, right?” he whispered. Slowly pulling the man into another of his hugs, yet this time it offered no warmth. “I can finally stop being a hero, so just end it for me, please. It can finally be over.” he begged, rocking between his feet as he hugged him.

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[cultmentality]

Dagan Iman.

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The other's words made Dagan feel sick. He was telling himself the same thing. I fucking hate you. I don't want to be around you. Talking to you is horrible because it makes me feel so many things. I don't want to feel any of those things anymore, Ronan. I don't think you understand how awful I feel talking to you. "You shouldn't have done that," he echoed. "Ronan... It's so fucking- I don't want to kill you." His words were weak. "I just don't think this is the kinda stuff you should do."

He meant it, it wasn't cut out for Ronan. The other was too emotionally soft. It made him tired, unsure. "I don't think you were the kinda person for it ever." He was hesitant to speak again. "I'm not gonna kill you," his voice had weakened a bit. "I don't want you to die, Ronan. That's why I don't want you to do any of this. You'd be safer being normal. I don't know why you had to take off that stupid fucking mask." He surprised himself by reciprocating the hug, pulling the other close for a moment. "Please, you need to lie. Tell them it's not you." I'll make things alright. I don't know how, but I'll fix all of this. Just so you don't get killed, then I'll disappear all over again.

who knows

joy again

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[morumana]

/* ------ left side ------ */

/* ------ left side info ------ */

mood: Bittersweet

location: ???

outfit: Casual

fun fact: Left-Handed

Han Ronan

/* ------ right side ------ */

“Just do it.” he began to cut him off. Practically covering his ears as the other began to tell him that he didn’t want to kill him. They felt like lies, they were lies to the man as he grabbed the fabric of his shirt, fists pulling the fabric into balls as he continued to shake. “You don’t understand, I’m not taking it back. The only reason i’ve kept going was because it’s what I thought was appropriate to avenge you, but seeing you alive, There’s nothing left for me.” he breathed. Wiping his tears with his wrists. “If you don’t do it, someone else will. I’m not going to keep living like this.” he motioned to himself, blinking tiredly.

“Can I at least spend time with you?” he then asked, weakly taking Dagan’s hands into his own before pulling them to his own face. “I don't need your friendship, I just want to know you’re okay. I want to see you live.” he cried softly. His voice barely above a whisper. “Please?”

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[cultmentality]

Dagan Iman.

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Horror had begun to brew inside of Dagan. I don't want you to like me. Why can't you fucking hate me? He wanted to scream at the other and beg him to understand. The question made his eyes widen a little bit, gaze flickering to Ronan's dark eyes. "I..." He didn't know what he was supposed to say. He just nodded, mouth still ajar in awe at the words. Why are you like this?

Dagan wished Ronan wasn't so genuinely good. He felt so disgusting, the other's hands atop his. It made him want to keel over and die, he wanted to be sick and dead and gone. "Now?" He asked suddenly. "I think... It's okay. If we do that." He was hesitant to commit to much more than that. The tears that lingered on Ronan's face made Dagan feel horrible. He had carefully wiped them away, hands trembling. "Ronan, you have to take it back. Please, you have to." There was fear in his voice for just a moment.

who knows

joy again

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[morumana]

/* ------ left side ------ */

/* ------ left side info ------ */

mood: Bittersweet

location: ???

outfit: Casual

fun fact: Left-Handed

Han Ronan

/* ------ right side ------ */

The other agreeing to his request earned what looked to be a sort of happiness. The way he tried to smile again but continued to fail, with it twitching as he seemed to be incapable of properly expressing himself. It must’ve looked just as heartbreaking as he felt. So confused between his almost parasitic attachment to Dagan and his valid hatred that pricked him. He felt like the stem of a Rose, thorny, but holding something so pretty. To him that was what Dagan was.

He refused again to deny it. “Why can’t I hate you?” he asked. Repeating Dagan’s inner thoughts as his own. With his lips trembling, he moved forward again, wanting to get another hug. “I hate that I can’t.” he sobbed. Burying himself back into Dagan’s shoulder. Relaxing slowly as he began to breathe in. “I don’t want to let you go away, But i don’t want to see you. Please don’t leave me again.” he whispered. “Don’t ever leave me again-”

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[cultmentality]

Dagan Iman.

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The words coming from Ronan made him tired. He wanted to assure Ronan things would be alright, but he couldn’t. How could he? It would be nothing but lies. Ronan’s reaction made Dagan feel sick. He wanted to vomit. There was a difference between hating the other and having no emotions. You fixed that though! Youre not supposed to have feelings. Not for anyone. Especially not him. “Ronan I- I won’t… But we shouldn’t stand here.” They were practically in the open. Panic enveloped him for a moment before Dagan spoke. “Follow me.”

The man separated himself from Ronan’s grasp, reaching out carefully and grabbing his hand to lean him through the empty sidewalk. “Come on.” They had made it to the strange side of town, Dagan walked into a building and opened the door for Ronan. The apartment was large, there was a space full of machine parts and cluttered half finished creations. Then there was the part he lived in. Everything was devoid of personal affect. He hadn’t felt the need to bring anything from his old life, because he was sure that he was no longer his old self.

who knows

joy again

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[morumana]

/* ------ left side ------ */

/* ------ left side info ------ */

mood: Bittersweet

location: ???

outfit: Casual

fun fact: Left-Handed

Han Ronan

/* ------ right side ------ */

Ronan didn’t refuse, instead coming along willingly as he hung his head like a child coming down from a tantrum. He didn’t grip Dagan’s hand back, nor did he really do anything during their walk. Really only walking because he was being taken somewhere. Where? He couldn't really assume that anymore because dagan really was so different. But so was he, on levels that were both visible and not. Especially in his self depreciating attitude. He really had told nothing but the truth the whole time, other than when he threatened to harm Dagan. Because he couldn’t bare to hurt the man. He couldn’t stand the thought of doing so, and already hated that he just got finished with pummeling him earlier.

It all felt numb in Ronan’s head as they walked through the sidewalks, then ending at a spot that he would’ve deemed as unlivable. It made his heart break more that it already was for Dagan. He didn’t want to see him live so unnaturally. The building disgusted him, and everything inside felt so grimy and tainted. He spent a long look at the building as his face grew grim, solemn. Showing he wasn’t any happier that Dagan brought him there. He still felt the same amount of anguish, and pain.

Jerking his hand away from Dagan, he would pocket it. Standing still as he continued to soak it all in. Then, he would calmly seat himself on the ground like a rock. Crossing his legs and hunching his posture. “I can’t believe you would rather live here.” he murmured. Commenting on the absurdity that dagan was to the hero. But he stopped. Not going any further for the sake of avoiding arguments.

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[cultmentality]

Dagan Iman.

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Ronan's criticisms mirrored Dagan's when he had first come here. Now, he understood why the apartment was the way it was. "Ronan, the government and everyone I knew thinks I'm dead. I'm not exactly in a great position to buy a nice, new apartment." He sounded slightly exhausted as the other spoke. He had wandered toward the bathroom, grabbing a bottle of ibuprofen off of the counter and putting three into his mouth. His eyes focused on Ronan again. Why is he even here if he thinks so low of me? He didn't want to ask aloud, for fear he would upset the other again. When he caught sight of himself in the mirror, he frowned.

There was dried blood that had crusted itself onto the side of his face, and Dagan began to scrape at it. Had the doctors really ignored that? Perhaps he had made a mistake as they walked back together. He wasn't so sure what had happened to him. "You don't have to sit on the ground," he commented. He had left the bathroom, bottle of ibuprofen still in hand. He had grabbed a glass and filled it with water. "Do you want water?" He had grabbed another glass, though his words were empty and full of mild exhaustion. Dagan could collapse. He wanted nothing more than to fall asleep. "They won't find you here, if that's what you're worried about." It was the absolute last place anyone would think to look for Ronan. A hero wouldn't be in a place like this.

who knows

joy again

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[morumana]

/* ------ left side ------ */

/* ------ left side info ------ */

mood: Bittersweet

location: ???

outfit: Casual

fun fact: Left-Handed

Han Ronan

/* ------ right side ------ */

“That’s what I don’t understand.” he rebutted. Scratching his head and messing up his hair more than it already had been. He was careful with his arm now, unguarded as he resolved to continue sitting on the ground. “Do you know how common it is for dead people to pop up after a while? It’s not like your body was buried, and because you “died” in an accident it’s so easy to claim your identity back and live, Dagan.” he chided. Narrowing his eyes as he spoke to him as if he was dumb. To the Hero, Dagan was. Choosing the hardest routes at every turn. It was downright stupid.

“All they’ll do is compare your DNA or something and make sure it matches. Ask you some questions, and boom, you’re a living, breathing legal human being.” he finished. Reaching up he rubbed tiredly at his face. Everything he’d suffered was beginning to hurt, slamming him like a truck as he decided to just lie down on the ground.

“So why don’t you? That’s what I don’t understand.”

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

[cultmentality]

Dagan Iman.

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Dagan felt exhausted. He didn't know how to explain himself in the moment. "I just want to disappear." He said suddenly. "I don't know what I'm supposed to fucking do, Ronan. You say it like it's easy but there are gonna be so many questions. I don't want to deal with that." He exhaled slowly. "I've talked to one person for the past year, so I'm sorry that doing some of that stuff seems hard for me right now." He wanted to fall asleep. He wanted to disappear.

"I know you want some fuckin' easy answer, Ronan. I don't know what to tell you. It's not like everything has been just so easy for me." He pressed his hands against his face before sitting on the couch. He didn't know how to explain these things to the other. If anything, he just felt worse and worse. He had curled in on himself, making himself as small as possible. Sure, he was uncomfortable right now. He could feel like leg burning as he curled inward, closing his eyes for a moment.

who knows

joy again

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[morumana]

/* ------ left side ------ */

/* ------ left side info ------ */

mood: Bittersweet

location: ???

outfit: Casual

fun fact: Left-Handed

Han Ronan

/* ------ right side ------ */

“An easy answer and a sensible answer are two different things, Did your brain rot in the time you’ve been here? Did the mold and dust collect in that brain of yours?” He continued to scoff. Sprawling out with furrowed brows as he tried to get more comfortable on the floor. It was cold, and helped him regulate the boiling heat of his frustration. Simply just feeling nice.

“Look, I’ve never been the smart one, but I seriously cannot understand your decisions. Or how you came to trust the person that did all of this in the first place. You wanna talk about how you “can’t be normal” yet refuse to look inwardly and accept that the problems you have are because you decided to stay here, to trust him.” He sighed out, finally sitting back up.

“But what I can’t understand at all is how even after all the years we had known each other, you can’t trust me.” He admitted. “But yet you can trust the person who actually did this to you. That’s like… for example, you get in a relationship with someone and they beat you, abuse you, and then at the end of the day apologize. How does that make it okay?”

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.