Not actual ghosts, though he caught himself making offerings every clear night.
But sometimes he’d look out the docking bay of his cargo ship and feel as if someone was waiting for him, watching him, making sure he was safe.
Sometimes Hoth’s cold air snuck down the back of his collar and he’d feel it seeping into his bones, as if Death was reminding him of how close they’d been.
Other times, he’d wake up in the dead of night, gasping for air because he’d been that close to death, and wasn’t he just about to swoop down and save the others?
It was the price he paid for being the sole survivor of Scarif.
Or so he thought.
Tatooine was a desert planet effectively in the middle of nowhere. The landscape reminded Bodhi of home, but this was too foreign and too empty and too… lifeless.
He could picture the dead watching him from the dunes on the horizon, ghostly forms illuminated by the setting twin suns. He shudders.
He was here on another cargo mission for the Alliance. They hadn’t trusted him with much, but he was grateful for even the smallest scraps of work. He was a former Imperial after all, hero or not, and he had to earn their trust. If it took a dreary cargo run to Skywalker’s home planet, then he would do it.
He didn’t enjoy it, though. Where Jedha was bitterly cold, Tatooine was blisteringly hot. Working throughout the day had left him exhausted, but finally all the cargo boxes had been place in the hold, and the ship was set off for takeoff.
He straightens his back, carrying the last box of materials, when a shadowy looking figure approaches him. He doesn’t think much of it - the spaceport was bustling with various beings at all times of day - until he hears his name.
That gives him pause. Who knew his name here?
He turns in the direction of the voice and drops the box in shock.
The person, who certainly did look like the Rebellion’s best spy, stepped into the light. The shadows casting over his features aged him a little, and he definitely looked worse for wear - but it looked like him.
“Bodhi?” the-thing-that-looks-like-Cassian repeats, and Bodhi thinks he’s suffering from heatstroke.
“N-no,” Bodhi shakes his head, almost choking on the word. They were all dead. “No,” he inhales. He didn’t leave anyone behind. “Y-you’re dead! I-I tried to s-save-” He had left them behind. “No,” he moans, covering his face, swaying in shame. You left them behind to suffer, and now he’s back to remind you of it.
“Bodhi, Bodhi it’s alright, it’s just me,” Cassian attempts to diffuse the situation. Bodhi’s antics had begun to draw a few second glances from the others in the spaceport.
“You’re back, I left you behind to suffer, and now you want me to pay for it, I’m so sorry, I even gave th-the offerings, I thought you’d rest in peace, b-but I failed you, I’m so sorry,” the apologies rush out of Bodhi’s mouth and Cassian looks on in confusion.
“No, Bodhi, no it’s o-” Realizing his words were futile, Cassian pulls Bodhi into a hug. “It’s okay,” he murmurs, stroking his hair. “I’m fine. I’m alive. It’s not your fault. You didn’t know.”
Cassian wasn’t sure if he said the right thing, or if it was the warmth of his hearbeat against Bodhi’s, but he feels Bodhi relax in his arms, fingers curling into his jacket.
“You’re alive,” Bodhi manages to say, voice muffled by Cassian’s shoulder. “You’re alive.”
“Yeah,” Cassian replies, rubbing Bodhi’s back, feeling truly alive for the first time in weeks. Years. A lifetime. “I’m alive.”
“Sometimes, you do things and you do them not because you’re thinking but because you’re feeling. Because you’re feeling too much. And you can’t always control the things you do when you’re feeling too much.“
— Benjamin Alire Sáenz.
The kpop fandom is honestly so toxic. At first all the fans are all like, “my bias is a perfect angel who isn’t capable of making mistakes or saying anything offensive” but the moment they screw up, you guys go on a full 180 degree turn and say the most hateful things. Idols are human beings. They WILL make mistakes whether we like it or not so stop putting them on such a high pedestal that no normal human can reach. If they make a mistake then educate them. Let them know why they were wrong and why you were offended. Nothing good will happen from spreading baseless unnecessary hate. People will just get hurt in the process.