empathiq

[empathiq]

they    feel    more    than    you .     

                         you    have    to    understand    that .

ind  &  sel   dual - muse   blog .    haunting of hill house    and    sense8    influences ,    with   verses   compatible   with    other   fandoms .   rae ,    she/her ,    21 ,    est .    like   for   a   starter .

[empathiq]

𝚜 𝚎 𝚊 𝚛 𝚌 𝚑 𝚒 𝚗 𝚐   𝚍 𝚊 𝚝 𝚊 𝚋 𝚊 𝚜 𝚎   . . .   ﹗                      𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐐 .

                                   DID    YOU    MEAN    EMPATHIC ?          ❛   showing   the   ability   to   understand   and   share   the   feelings   of   another .   ❜

independent  &  selective   dual-muse   with   supernatural   themes .    cursed   by   RAE    (  she  /  her  )   .

Ξ  google   docs  &  rules .

[empathiq]

moon gayoung, vogue korea

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[empathiq]

#      headcanon      :      the    connection    between    damon  &  ara      .

this aspect takes some inspo from netflix’s sense8

to some degree, the two feel like they know each other. at first, there were just memories shared between them, manifesting as strange dreams they thought were meaningless. however, for nearly a year now, the bond has been strengthening. the dreams are vivid, often times feeling as though they are reliving the experiences in the other’s body. 

when their abilities strengthened, so did their bond. 

when damon watched his father die of cancer, he felt hopeless — he could feel his pain, his defeat, his frustration. all he could do in the moment was try to take some of it away, alleviate some of the suffering that came at the end of a year long battle. only weeks later did he have a dream, one in which he was in ara’s body bringing life back to a young girl  ( a friend? a sister? he hadn’t yet seen enough to know the answer ) . a lightheaded feeling, and then darkness. the next thing he saw was the familiar flicker of streetlights outside his own window.

this is when damon grew to detest his abilities, and his lack of control over them.

in his rage, a fairly justified response to realizing he could’ve potentially save the father he had just watched pass, he got into a fist fight with a highschool nemesis he can’t even remember the name of. with the boy on the ground, he felt his energy his life rushing into damon’s fingertips. 

the feeling was much like ara’s memory, only darker.

there was no exhaustion, only a feeling of power. 

slowly the boy’s skin paled, pleas turned into laboured breathing and the skin beneath his hands cooled.

this was balance. this was an eye for an eye.

only, it wasn’t. not to the boy who’d wanted nothing more than to connect with someone.

and so, he fell backwards, ending the stream of energy before it was too late. cue frenzy! worry! confusion? 

he stumbled towards the other again. “stay still. i won’t hurt you. i can help.” empty promises, syllables muffled by the heartbeat in his ears. his hands returned to the other’s chest, trying to give back what he’d taken — trying to do the right thing.

only he couldn’t. his anger was pointless. the dream had been a lie. 

but maybe this was balance. the girl who could give life, and the boy who could take it.

                                                     enter      :      ara      .

you see, the dream had cut off in a rather inconvenient place. the reality was that ara had not restored life — she’d simply delayed death. the girl? her younger sister, the victim of a drunken hit and run. 

she’d awoken only to realize her attempts were pointless, and the exhaustion that came with them didn’t mean a thing in the end: her sister had died. she hadn’t been able to do enough. 

the night before the trial, she saw the boy whose name she didn’t know but whose face had become quite familiar: damon. she saw the fight, the path of energy between them, and the same dwindling light she’d seen in her sister’s eyes in the victims beneath him. 

only, the memory seemed to cut off, blacking out just as the boy seemed to sap the last drops of life from the other figure.

                                    was this her chance at justice?            

you may be able to guess where this lead. and, surprise surprise, she came to the same chilling conclusion once she was face to face with the man who’d taken her sister from her, fingertips hooked onto his forearm with a piercing grip. despite her pleading, her desperation, she couldn’t replicate the feeling from the dream. the only thing brushing against her fingertips was the fabric of an orange jumpsuit.

a voice echoed in her head. only this time, instead of eery and unfamiliar, it was almost comforting, laced with the same pain as she felt right now: this was balance.

[empathiq]

God i love being left the fuck alone

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missionary so we can continue our argument from before