#the dark circles under his eyes are darker than Ego's soul

[chodzacaparodia]

Just look at my poor boy Kunigami

He needs 8 hours of sleep and some eye patches.

Therapy would be fine too, I guess.

[blueheartedmayor]

Dante Lore

Okay, so I’ve had a few ideas earlier on today, and now I’m getting a chance to write it down. I’ve already nagged the ears off of a few poor friends, so I’m giving the option of a read-more so it can be ignored! :D Also, it’s VERY long, this is your warning. I’ll be covering the following topics:

1. “Dante” as an identity. 2.  Dante breaking character... Mostly. 3. The Younger Seer Twin, and the Consequences of that. 4. Miscellaneous human headcanons!

Note: For the sake of not confusing matters, I’m calling him Dante regardless of whether I’m talking about him as he is now or when he was human.

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1. “Dante” as an identity.

I’ve already written about Dante calling himself an entity here before. Another option is ‘monster’, and at present he is rather uncomfortable with being referred as one. A lot of this stems from his own trauma of existing without humanity for so long. He is genuinely scared of ‘slipping’ back into that ‘monster’ mindset and never snapping out of it again. Not only that, he has seen how Darks in other timelines act. He doesn’t want to go that far.

(By accurate definition, he’s a ghost trapped in a body, but I’ll come back to that.)

Realistically, he's past the point of being in the 'danger zone' of slipping permanently after a bad day... But that doesn’t alleviate the fear. He’s had bad days where he has ‘slipped’, but he has eventually pulled himself back. It's a big factor in the intrusive thoughts that developed once he became ‘Dante’. I imagine those thoughts that had been at the forefront of his mind over the years had turned against him, tempting him back to better times. No guilt, no stress, no pains - all it would cost is his humanity. What could be better?

So he’s still trying to determine his sense of ‘self’. He isn’t ‘Dark’, he isn’t ‘Damien’. He’s trying to find that middle ground where he feels comfortable being ‘himself’, whatever that is. That will start by himself gradually becoming more comfortable with being in the ‘here and now’. Being in good company is certainly helping. The goal would be that he would stop comparing himself to the ideal self and the dreaded self and find the parts of his personality that he likes separate from both of them. Right now, he only sees himself as an exhausted, grumpy soul who is constantly in pain, so he’s got a long way to go. 

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2. Dante breaking character... Mostly.

One reason why Dante is a little messy in who he is is because he’s a Dark (that is solely a ‘Damien’ rather than an amalgamation) that has broken out of the role he was forced into... But he still hasn’t broken out of the ‘character’.

Think about it for a second. He wants out of the ‘story’, and his only connection to the mess should be watching over the modern!Mark he accidentally involved and whatever egos he knows, right? So then why does he still hold onto the belief that he’ll find peace if he gets his body back? Why does he feel he has to dress well instead of dressing in warm, comfortable clothes that would help lessen any potential pains? These are ties that still keep him connected to the ‘story’, whether he likes it or not. Breaking from these will help him move on, though he doesn’t realise these hold him back. Not only that, he’s almost replaced the Actor in the original role - fitting when his soul is technically linked to that body. He carries the burden of pains, the desire to be left alone, and the want to pass on and find peace.

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3. The Younger Seer Twin, and the Consequences of that.

Both Dante and Celine had the magic skills required to interact with the world beyond. For Dante, he could see spirits very clearly. When he and Celine were children, they used to chat with some ghosts they met, as she could hear them better than he could. At first, the parents and staff assumed they were talking to imaginary friends, but the family were unimpressed when they realised the truth. With a bad history of the occult in the family tree, both twins were discouraged from continuing. It was at this point that Dante stopped training. He had natural talent, but it was undeveloped. Why else was he disappointed rather than surprised in his sister confessing her training in the occult? As a result, he has some pros and cons when he aided in the séance later:

Cons: - Untrained. Was not protected from outside influence properly, and would be unable to defend himself. - Vulnerable to possession and outside manipulation/ghostly influence (will clarify)

Pros: - Better vessel to hold the stronger power. Had the entity taken him instead, it would have been able to leave. - Natural talent. He learned to not notice ghosts, but he’d be able to see them if he focused on the idea. - Working with Celine allows them to be a powerful duo (assuming Celine set the required boundaries to keep them both safe).

To focus on one con in particular. Since Dante didn’t have enough training to keep himself grounded and protected, he was a little more susceptible to ghostly influences than he ought to be when he was alive. The presence of an angry ghost could make him more irritable, while a lamenting ghost might have others surprised that tears were falling down his face. You could actually see this affect Dante during WKM. The best example is that he’s easily convinced there’s a storm outside, yet steps out multiple times into a beautiful, sunny day. Not once does he consider the idea of leaving.

On the topic of ‘consequences’, I think I’ve mentioned before that Dante didn’t die in the house. His soul was simply tossed out. That’s why Celine (who had died) had to go to such lengths to protect him. A living soul in the unforgiving place that is the void would have been pounced on by the darker creatures that lived deep within. Not only that, he died in that void, which further complicated matters for him, turning him into a ‘living ghost’, so to speak.

-

4. Miscellaneous human headcanons!

* As a human, Dante had a HORRIBLE temper, but no one knew about it. He grew up seeing Celine snap in frustration and get in trouble for it. As the son, he was encouraged to be courteous and polite, but ultimately it made him bottle up his negative feelings. While the modern cycle (AKA the modern Damien I normally write) has good patience but might briefly snap, Dante’s temper was EXPLOSIVE when it got the best of him. It was a rare sight, but it was truly a moment. If anything, it was almost like he was briefly possessed by a demon. Now doesn’t that sound like a headline in a newspaper that we saw somewhere...? (This also means that modern!Dante struggling with some emotions is a direct consequence of this)

*Another issue with this was that Dante seems ‘closed off’ to those that he didn’t know too well. He keeps his cards close to his chest, but it meant that people who worked with him for months would not know a lot about him. (But those that do know him well know he can be a little bit of a smartass)

* He didn’t trust Abe. During the poker night, he was polite, but couldn’t shake the feeling that something was ‘off’. It was only amplified when the detective began acting strange the next day during the investigation. If the House had let Dante find the investigation room, it would have caused a confrontation, I’m sure of it.

* He came from a very good family, one that had good money and reputation in the city he grew up in. It’s how he was able to learn instruments, dances for social parties, and other important skills. All to be a perfect young man in the eyes of society.

* Dante was essentially trained to be a lawyer to continue the family legacy from when he was a child as the only son of the family. He didn’t have much of a choice growing up about what he wanted to do, especially when they realised at a young age that he was academically bright. Going into politics was also something the family ‘encouraged’ to keep in the good circles. Dante was lucky that he found satisfaction in the career. But if you had asked him what his dream career was when he was a child (or what he would do if he wasn’t a lawyer/mayor), he wouldn’t be able to answer you. He was never allowed the luxury to imagine that possibility.

* He was also encouraged to keep his distance from others. According to his family, it was only good to be physically affectionate with someone when he was married to them, but he was known to hug the ‘gang’ in his younger days. It is partly why modern Dante has such an issue with touch.

* Dante LOVED the snow. Winter was his favourite time of year, but he was always interested in travelling to somewhere with snow. He adored how peaceful the world looked under a blanket of snow.

* He’s sensible when it comes to gambling games, but he’s a little ambitious when it comes to games that don’t have money attached (example, playing poker with poker chips instead of money). His legal training makes it that he’s good at keeping a straight face, but his university friend is better at it.

[savage-rhi]

DS: Rewind Ch. 33

Higgs ran. The lightning in the distance made him flinch every so often. He didn’t know what was going on with his Ha, but he could feel the turmoil his Ka had been through. Knowing himself, Higgs understood he was going through with Amelie’s plans back in the world of the living. Here, on the beach, the Higgs that was present was but a mere fraction of the whole that created him. The bit of humanity that clung onto hope and didn’t fall prey to the dark. Gene pulled him out of the ocean, away from Amelie’s hold, and now he had to find some way to get back in the driver's seat of his body and mind.

Beaches were never supposed to go on forever. Like all things in life, there was a beginning, middle, and end. The influence of Amelie--an Extinction Entity nonetheless had turned Higgs’s beach into an endless circle. A cage of her own making. Higgs knew on a primal level he should have been out of here; either on the other side or one with the rest of his Ka. However, after several hours of running and going nowhere, he alas had to give up momentarily and catch his breath.

The frustration of being cornered aggravated Higgs as he thought about what occurred before Gene disappeared. Something wasn’t right. She shouldn’t have bled on the beach. As he blinked, Higgs could see what was going on back home. The images made him grunt as he stumbled backward into the sand. His eyes felt heavy as did his mind. Fingertips digging into the side of his scalp, Higgs could see what was going on in Edge Knot City the longer his eyes held fast.

“Surely you’ve figured it out by now. DOOMs? People like us? She’s the source of it all. The nightmares that haunt us? The visions of an inescapable future? Sound familiar? Happy fucking DOOMS day Sam!”

“Fuck you!”

Higgs winced, the sound of his own voice and Sam’s radiating in his eardrums. He forced himself to look out to the ocean. The waves were turning darker. A navy blue encompassing what was once a turquoise color. The sky became a haze of greys and blues, much like when BTs would rise from their slumber and hunt. Higgs swallowed, feeling his knees wanting to give out. The foreboding energy that came from the beach, struggling to contain itself sent chills up his spine.

“Even if you beat me, you can’t save her. This is a done deal.”

Higgs understood back home, he was long gone. Neck deep in grandeur and rage.

“No--” His voice somber, Higgs shook his head as he murmured to himself. “I can’t let this happen. I can’t go through with this. This--this isn’t what I wanted.”

“But it was.”

Higgs quickly turned, facing Amelie. Squinting his eyes, Higgs studied her. She wasn’t wearing her red salmon-colored dress, what he had been acquainted with before. Her dress flowed like the grey in the skies. There was an air about Amelie that felt peculiar.

“You’re a fraction of her, aren’t ya?” Higgs whispered when it dawned on him.

Amelie sighed, offering a smile while she shrugged. “Does it matter? Does it even matter that you are a little piece of Higgs, a simple blink in the grand scheme of things?”

“I reckon not,” Higgs said, holding his ground. He knew better than to fall for sweet words and broken promises when it came to the entity before him, recalling how it felt to be drowning in the ocean. Disconnected from his body and soul.

“You’ve seemed to have gone through a hell of a lot to keep me in the dark.” Higgs said, furrowing his brows as he sneered. “You promised me power and purpose, and you’ve led me to ruin.”

Amelie shook her head, her eyes disappointed as she bit her bottom lip. “You knew what was coming, Higgs. I never lied to you. I never tricked you.”

Higgs tampered down his anger, nonetheless, it was still there. Brewing deep in his gut as he realized Amelie had been right about that. She had warned him before he sacrificed this part of himself to save Gene back in the colony. He knew the consequences of his actions even before he had put the mask on.

Glaring towards Amelie, Higgs let out a shuddered breath. “--But you sweet-talked me into this, goaded me. That was your plan all along, wasn’t it? You fucking hyped me up. You set me up for failure. All so that I could be a fucking puppet in your show.”

“A puppet show,” Amelie repeated softly, chuckling to herself. Higgs visibly tensed upon hearing her laughter.

“It’s funny you call it that. I now see the similarities. You know, this battle--between you and Sam back home, it’s going to determine my choice in the end.”

“The choice of what?” Higgs asked bitterly.

“If the world should end or not,” Amelie simply stated. She began to walk out towards the ocean, sticking her feet in the surf as Higgs watched her warily. Confusion mounted his features as he tried to piece together just what the hell Amelie was driving at.

“My being is unprecedented. I may be an Extinction Entity, but I’m human too. With that, comes humanity. Feelings, emotions, such things that were never an issue before when a species time was up. I’ve been indecisive about humans, Higgs. I have this part of me that wants to wipe the slate clean of their existence and everything they’ve touched, and yet--there’s a part of me that wants them to keep living on. There’s a hope that as generations of them come and go, they’ll get something right and will evolve into the next best thing, then I can reap what’s left. Then there’s this part of me--what you’re talking to right now, that understands that no such creature should have this much awareness. The checks and balances of the universe, the cosmos, and this planet were not perfect but reached a harmony. As soon as evolution stepped in and made Homo Sapiens the intellectual animals that they are, there’s been nothing but suffering. Not just for them, but for everything else. It was the same the other five times.”

Higgs suddenly felt cold and could see his breath as Amelie paused for a moment. A breeze of wind passed through her blond locks as she sighed. A sadness lingered on her lips as she spoke up once more.

“I witnessed it thousands of years ago when the Neanderthal came close to their moment of greatness. I knew the common ancestor of both them and Homo Sapien had potential. I should have done what I did to the Neanderthal EE, speed up the process of their demise. It didn’t matter that they branched off the evolutionary path, they still ended up the same way. Destructive creatures. Maybe then--we wouldn’t be here. Maybe then I wouldn’t be plagued by what I need to do.”

“Will you cut the bullshit and get to the point? I don’t have time for the Shakespearean monologue.” Higgs said bitterly. He was close to yelling. A great wave of sorrow and dread filled him upon hearing the confession leaving Amelie’s mouth.

Amelie chuckled, turning her head and faced Higgs. He let out a gasp, seeing there was blood escaping from the corners of her eyes. Higgs took a few steps back as Amelie began to slowly walk towards him. Her expression is neutral.

“You’re that spark of hope that Higgs has left. I can’t let you resurface and undo everything. Not when I’m so close to getting my answer. The fight between Sam and you isn’t finished. It’s barely begun.”

Higgs shook his head. “That’s not what I wanted---that’s not me. You can’t just use me and Sammy boy up there as pawns on a board just because you can’t make up your damn mind!”

Amelie stopped, rubbing away at her eyes as she glanced down at her fingertips. The warmth of the blood made a shiver trail down her arms while she sadly pressed her fingers together as if the fluid were some foreign substance she had no concept of. Higgs couldn’t help but watch with awe at it, how childlike her features became and how remorseful she looked. It was a far cry from the intimidation she held moments before.

“After everything you’ve been through as a child, there was this void growing bigger in your heart. You had seen the worst of humanity in the form of someone who was supposed to love you. That was your cornerstone as a youth. Over time, you developed an ego to pacify those feelings. You took on the role of a leader, took pride in the work you did for the benefit of the community, and yet deep down, it was never enough to make those ill feelings go away. You never trusted anyone. Not even those you held dear. There was a part of you that enjoyed killing people to make your DOOMs stronger before I came along. You’d never admit it. Try hard as you might to appear humble, you were anything but inside. Even when you trained the recruits for Atomic Runners, you felt a rush. Having people subservient and underneath you made you feel strong. Stronger than the little boy who was nearly beaten to death by his own uncle. It was only a matter of time, Higgs. If I never came to you, those feelings would have boiled over. The inadequacy. The hurt. You would have stricken down anybody once the coil snapped. Me coming to you, begging for you to be one of my champions, it was a blessing in disguise.”

Higgs was silent as Amelie continued to talk. A hollowness in his eyes began to grow as did regret. He started to look anywhere but her direction, almost as if he were a child trying to hide his shame from a parent. Her words burrowed under his skin, reminding Higgs of the bitter truth: he was never a good guy. Even this part of him that held onto humanity, that wanted to influence the whole of his Ka, knew better.

“And what you did to Fragile--my powers may have influenced the ideas you had, but you wanted to hurt her. She stood for everything you could never be. She had a father. Someone that loved her. She gave people hope and didn’t have to prove herself unlike you. Everything came easy to her, so why were you punished? You were envious to the core. You took away the one thing you could, her youth and life. That’s the only power you had a hold of when it came to her.”

Amelie began to walk towards Higgs and gently placed her hands upon his cheeks. She forced him to look at her. Higgs could feel his skin tremble as his eyes were weighed down by guilt.

“Do you deny everything I’ve said?” Amelie asked, her tone soft as she pleaded.

“No, I don’t.” Higgs murmured.

“Then you see why this is a fool's errand, to try to go back to the rest of your Ka.” Amelie gave a half-smile, then brushed away some strands of hair out of Higgs’s face. He kept his eyes on her as she attempted to soothe him.

“You’re a small piece of Higgs,” She shook her head. “How could you possibly influence the whole of your existence with this much turmoil? If you rejoin with the rest of yourself, you’ll drown. If it weren’t for me, keeping you asleep on this beach, you would have been gone. You were always going to disappear, Higgs. The dark was going to win regardless if I stepped in or not. I’d like to think I spared you the pain by making your life far grander than it could have been.”

There was nothing to say. Higgs knew everything Amelie was telling him was the truth. He couldn’t fight it, even if he wanted to.

When he looked settled enough, Amelie moved her hands away from Higgs's face and trailed to his hands. She gently clasped them, her thumbs rubbing over the top of his knuckles. Higgs blinked a few times, confusion settling in his gaze as brows furrowed. Amelie smiled as more red began to pool from the corners of her eyes. The fraction of her here, trying to keep Higgs’s humanity at bay, was starting to grow tired. Higgs could feel it emitting from her. Whatever was going on back home, back in Edge Knot, was making Amelie weak.

“Let’s go back together. I’ll be there for you. I promise.” Amelie begins to shift her weight and starts to drag Higgs along. The two end up walking the shoreline of the beach, treading into the surf. When the waters began to reach Higgs’s waist, he stops.

Amelie turned around, perplexed at what made Higgs freeze. Then she could see it, this light in his eyes that had her letting go of his hand as his gaze bore into hers.

“I am--everything you said,” Higgs started. He laughed for a moment, feeling his eyes begin to water. “But I’m still here. This one little part that--gives a shit. That still sees the good in people. It’s tiny, but--I’m fucking here. I exist.”

Higgs gestures at all of himself, feeling his emotions swell while Amelie stood in bewilderment. Nonetheless, she was listening.

“I have lost people I cared about. People I’d die for. Cause’ you missed something about me: I hated myself more than anyone. I had a death wish. Someone wants me to return. I have someone back home that loves me, even after all I’ve done and who I am. I may not be able to stop myself from going through with the plans you have for the world--but I’ll be damned if you take away the one thing keeping me around.”

“Higgs, wait!” Amelie exclaimed, watching as Higgs quickly turned around in the water and rushed towards the shore. He could sense BTs trailing behind him, sneaking behind like a wave. The water began to feel heavy like cement had been poured, but Higgs struggled and kept his eyes on the prize. He saw on the beach a bright light. The warmth radiated like the sun. It burned his skin, but Higgs knew he had to reach the center no matter the pain. Even with his flesh searing, blisters forming all over, hairs catching flame, Higgs smiled. He may have only been a small piece, but he belonged to something bigger. And it was time for him to wake up.

A whale let out a mighty call as it stranded itself on Amelie’s beach. The creature struggled against the sand, it’s mewling bellows a cry for help as it felt air burn the insides of its organs. Small decaying crabs desperately tried to walk over, wanting to scavenge off the dying beast, but the moment they got too close, they too perished. Black ooze poured from their small bodies, feeding into tiny streams that traveled to the ocean to carry them away.

On the last bellow, the whale ceased its movement and Higgs arrived with Amelie. He took a few steps, then paused. Blinking a few times, Higgs didn’t register Amelie commanding him to put her down until she had used her strength to hit his back. Higgs let out a grunt, sitting her down with a thud on the sand.

Amelie began to brush off her clothes, sighing as she stood up. “The final battle will be here on the beach. Higgs, you took things too far with Sam. You took it too far with me. What was wrong with you back there? Why didn’t you follow the plan? I had everything under control. There was no need to up the dramatics.”

Amelie paused, seeing Higgs was staring at his feet. His eyes blew wide open as black tar began to seep from the corners. Amelie took a few steps forward, reaching a handout. A gasp escaped her throat as Higgs suddenly shot back up. He recoiled away from her.

“Higgs?” Amelie quietly said as his expression began warped. He went from fearful to angry in such a short time, that even Amelie, as powerful as she was--stepped away from him.

“Sammy boy was gonna win the whole time, wasn’t he?” Higgs asked, his tone cold. He had his answer when Amelie didn’t say anything for several moments. Shaking his head, Higgs began to chuckle.

“Let me explain, Higgs.” Amelie started, placing her hand over her heart for emphasis. “You have--every right to be upset.”

“The hell I do!” Higgs spat. “I see it so clearly. Back in Edge Knot, I could feel my power slipping away. It allowed Sam to take us down easier. But this isn’t the first time--you’ve slowly been zapping everything you gifted to me, haven’t you?”

Amelie furrowed her brows, letting out a sigh. “It’s true.”

Higgs shook his head, disappointed was an understatement. He felt rage burning inside his gut. His teeth grit as he shook trying to control his anger.

“Tell me why.”

“You’ve only been seeing one side of the story, Higgs. After Sam made it past the point where I had you and Homo Demens stage my kidnapping, I realized that the matter I’m haunted by is more complicated. Pitting you and Sam against each other to determine the fate of the world, it was shallow of me. I never should have left it in either of your hands when the decision is mine.”

“But you’re still gonna let Sam get a final word in, right?” Higgs scoffed.

Amelie didn’t say anything, but she clenched her fists and looked firmly at Higgs.

“That will be between him and myself.”

“You’re pathetic! How could you string me along? Do you have any idea how much I sacrificed?!” Higgs bellowed. Even with Amelie having tempered his powers down, the energy emitting from Higgs was influencing the beach. Amelie could see the waves in the ocean were beginning to grow more unsteady, matching the turmoil Higgs was undergoing.

“I know I am in the wrong!” Amelie exclaimed. “And I am taking responsibility. Higgs, whether you or Sam win, the end is going to happen. Whether it gets postponed or happens thousands of years later. You were chosen to help speed it up because I sincerely believed that’s what I wanted. My mind has changed. Am I not allowed to feel the complications you feel?”

Higgs furrowed his brows, letting out a hiss as he began to pace back and forth. It was his way of keeping his cool despite wanting to hurt her. He could feel himself crave the need. Emotion running high, Higgs shook his head. He started muttering no several times as Amelie could only watch. She knew it would be foolish to offer him comfort in a time like this.

Higgs stopped pacing, his hands carding through his hair as he realized that everything leading up until now, had been a sham. That he had murdered and destroyed, turned the world upside down, and that it amounted to nothing. He was a particle, a little blink in the universe, but no god. No harbinger of death itself. He was a toy that had been discarded.

Upon his mind overloading with a sense of dread, Higgs screamed then fell to his knees in the sand. His head bowed as he was hit with one realization after the next; like something deep inside him was waking up. Becoming aware of all the little details in the journey that got him to this point. He whimpered, punching the sand as debris flew into the sky. Snarls and grunts escaped his throat as his rage spilled over until he was weeping.

“I made a beast of myself for you.” Higgs whimpered between, seeing Amelie’s legs in his field of vision. Higgs still kept his head down, not wanting to grace her with his presence. “I gave up the life I had---as stupid and insignificant as it was for you!”

“Believe me, if I could take it back--if I would have known then what I know now, this never would have happened,” Amelie said sincerely, keeping her voice calm as she swallowed. The jig was up. Amelie knew the part of herself she left in Higgs to keep his humanity, his attachments at bay, had failed. Higgs was waking up, no longer under her control. The fight between Sam and them both in Edge Knot had been too much to keep the checks and balances in place.

Lost in his tears, Higgs eventually ceased as Gene’s face came to him. He blinked several times, forcing his head up as he stared at Amelie.

“Gene---back when I fought Fragile, you told me she wouldn’t be a problem anymore. What did you do?”

Higgs searched his memories as he kept staring at Amelie for an answer. He combed through his mind over and over, but it was all strange. He remembered Gene coming right at him, and out of fear he thrust the knife towards her, but then he blinked and Amelie was by his side and Gene along with the rest of the dead she summoned were gone. Something wasn’t right, but believing Amelie had no reason to lie, Higgs thought that the Extinction Entity merely forced Gene away.

Higgs knew by the sorrow look in Amelie’s eye, that he was dead wrong.

“She was getting in the way,” Amelie shook her head, swallowing guilt as she remorsefully spoke. “I thought if this was going to work, you needed no more distractions. The knife I gave you was supposed to end it. I gave you the push you needed.”

“I killed her,” Higgs murmured. He blinked several times as a strange memory swept through his eyes. Higgs saw Gene in front of him on another beach, desperately trying to tell him something, only to stop. The smell of blood filled the air as she mouthed out the words she felt cold, then disappeared. Everything about her, the warmth and acceptance, it all faded with her.

“I killed Gene.”

He was so hurt, so defeated, that Amelie wanted to express her condolences to him. She reached out to pat his head.

"Higgs, I'm so sorry-"

“Amelie?” Sam’s voice called out. Amelie let out a gasp, dumbfounded that he arrived already. Higgs rose up while Amelie stepped away from him.

“Sam, what are you doing here?”

The moment the words left Amelie’s mouth, Higgs gestured out with his hand and clenched his fist. Amelie began to choke, she was dry heaving like a fish out of water. Higgs wanted nothing more than to snap her neck right then and there but knew he wasn’t powerful enough. Not when she was draining and taking it all away as he went through the motions.

Before Sam could rush over to help, Higgs made a jump. Standing in front of Sam with a stern look, Higgs saw red. He was broken from the revelations, and most of all, angry at himself. Higgs destroyed the one person left that cared about him despite the evil he had done and there was nothing left. Amelie be damned. The whole world be damned. If Higgs was going to lose everything that mattered, he was going to go down with the ship in flames.

“You ready to end this? Before the end of everything?” He asked Sam.

If the Extinction Entity wouldn’t bring the end, Higgs was going to force it on her. He would have his fight. He could die knowing that there was a chance he’d see Gene on the other side.

Tagging: @deathstrandjng​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @evillpasta​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @kusooi​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @justfanjunk​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @lucyfer-thorn​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @septicteara12​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @bl00dypalace​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @apocalyptic-demen​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @forksoffortune​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @starivaille​​​​​​​​​ @argetlam007​

[pixelpolaroid]

Ripples of the Past- Chapter 2

The demon’s caretaker

"Let the energy release from your body. All that built up anger and strength, let it go," The hero let out a deep breath, his body sinking deeper into the leather couch. A few moments passed and a gentle chime rang, signalling that the session was over. Jackie opened his eye, blinking rapidly as his eye adjusted back to the light. Chase stood up and blew out the candle on the desk in the side of the room. He glanced back at Jackie, who'd sat up in his seat by now, stretching out his limbs.

"It seemed easier for you to relax this time," Chase commented. The two had been doing weekly meditation sessions in Schneep's office since they'd found out about Jackie's issue. Thanks to Anti, they'd found out the voice he'd been hearing was Vigilante, who was basically the amalgamation of all Jackie’s inner demons. At first they worried he was going to try and harm the rest of the egos through Jackie, but after a few sessions with Chase it seemed like he was only worried about keeping himself alive, and in turn Jackie. Vigil was a part of Jackie, maybe a part of him that he didn't like, but still a part. The more Jackie became in sinc with his body and soul, the voice became quieter.

"Guess we can give Henrik his office back," Jackie joked. The two went back into the living room where Jamie and Henrik were sitting, watching whatever film had been playing that evening. The hero looked about the cabin. "Where's Anti?" He vocalized. Sure, the glitch wasn't that social to begin with, but ever since he'd woken, Jackie noticed that he was much more energetic at first. The long rest must have been good for him. He actually seemed happy sometimes. But all that quickly seemed to fade away, especially with the adjustment to not having his glitching abilities.

"He went out," Henrik answered. "He didn’t say where he was going, he just left." Though Jackie thought it was strange that he didn't ask further details, he knew that the doctor and glitch had a rough past. There were some things that Henrik still hadn't forgiven Anti for. Even if he didn't say it aloud, Henrik would always consider him an enemy, even if he was seemingly kind upfront.

As it grew later into the night, the egos split. Jackie and Jameson worked together to turn the basement into a new training room. They kept the cell, but they decided that rest of it should be utilized in some way. Chase went on to make dinner and Schneep returned to his office to finish some work. Even after dinner, the glitch hadn't returned,which no one really seemed to make notice of. They decided, in a silent agreement, that if he wasn't home in the morning, the they would try and find out here he went.

What was concerning though, was when Henrik woke up at 1 am needing to use the restroom, and noticed the light to the basement was on. That was odd, he wondered if Jackie and Jameson had forgotten to turn it out, but then he noticed the trail of melted snow leading from the front door, and down the stairs. Henrik groaned, mentally swearing as he slowly started descending downward.

As he grew closer to the bottom, the sound of broken grunts and mutters became more and more apparent. As expected, Henrik found an enraged and very drunk Anti slashing at the brand new punching bag Jackie had installed with a knife. For a while, Henrik just stood at the end of the steps and watched, silently judging.

Anti's back remained towards him for a long while, though as he circled the bag, his eyes landed on Henrik, and the doctor could see his eyes were red and puffy. His face was damp, and it probably wasn't from the snow. Anti glared at Henrik. "What!" He was clearly drunk, Henrik could tell by the way his words slurred. "Ya thinking bout how pathetic I am?" Henrik just shrugged, crossing his arms. That only seemed to anger Anti more. "Then fuck off! I don't fucking need it!"

The glitch went back to taking his anger out on the punching bag. Henrik shook his head. "Jackie just bought that," He called from his position.

“Your fucking point," He heard Anti mumble. The glitch just ignored him. As the doctor observed the scene around him he noticed Anti's coat had been discarded in the corner where he carelessly thrown it. Next to it was a nearly empty and new bottle of whiskey.

Before Anti could take another swipe at the punching equipment, he felt his arm hooked back and wrist be twisted until he just dropped the knife. Henrik pushed the demon away, his back hitting the wall as he stumbled to stand. "I fucking told you not to bring any extra alcohol to the cabin," The doctor scolded. Without warning he grabbed Anti by the shoulder and pushed him towards the stairs. "Get in bed. It's late and you're drunk."

Anti turned his head with a frustrated expression, though it was clear by the bags under his eyes that he was very tired. "You're not my fucking dad," He complained, but still listened, walking shamelessly up to his room. The whole time, Henrik followed behind him, eyeing him up and down for any possible injuries.

As the pair made it to the disastrous room, the doc stood in the door, looking around at the mess that the glitch had caused in the past few days. "You need to clean up your room."

"You need to mind your damn business," Anti maneuvered around the bedroom, throwing his stained shirt carelessly into the mess. Henrik looked over the grey scar that'd pierced through his abdomen. From the center of the mark, Henrik could see darker grey veins fractal out from the main point of damaged skin. Anti looked back, seeing that he was still there, staring at his scars. He turned away, subconsciously covering his stomach. "Are you fucking done peeping on me?"

Schneep crossed his arms and sighed, looking off into Anti's room again, away from the glitch. "Just get some sleep. You're gonna have a headache in the morning so come to my clinic tomorrow," Henrik didn't say anymore as he just slowly closed the door behind, heading back to the basement.

The doctor shook his head, looking over the damage Anti had done to Jackie's new punching bag. He'd have to help replace it before the hero torn Anti's head off. Since he was awake, Schneep gathered Anti's clothes and the bottles of whiskey. Returning to his room, He hid the alcohol in the bottom drawer of his desk. After Chase had his relapse when Marvin had left, Schneep implemented a limited alcohol rule on the cabin. It helped since most of the time, Schneep wouldn't leave Chase's side, being worried about the former father figure. Henrik threw Anti's jacket into a basket with a few of his own clothes. He didn't think he'd be able to sleep again tonight, so he'd might as well get some laundry done.

As the doctor was going through his coat, he found a few receipts in the pockets along with a flyer Anti must have grabbed it at some point in the bar. Though it confused him since the flyer was for a local circus that would be in Brighton for a few weeks. That's not really something he'd expect to see advertised in a bar. Though it's possible that Anti just went to buy booze, and didn't stop at a bar. Honestly, Henrik didn't really want to know half the stuff Anti got up to when he left the cabin.

He set the trash aside as he threw in the clothes and started a normal cycle. As he was leaving though, Trico, their small grey feline friend, had jumped up on the closed dryer and started tossing through the trash with his paw. Henrik sighed and tried to shoo him away. "Go away Trico," He quietly scolded. The cat didn't listen though, he just kept playing the the receipts, chewing on the corner of the flyer. Henrik rolled his eyes and just let him be. He knew the cat was smarter than the others realized, so the doctor just let him do his own thing for the most part. He just hated it when Trico insisted on climbing in his lap while he read.

Henrik returned to his office, leaving the door slightly cracked and just pulled out a bit of paperwork he needed to go over. He had Anti's most recent file. After the glitch had return to them, the doctor made sure to update Anti's health file. He took photos of the scars that littered the glitch’s abdomen. Reviewing them and remembering what he just saw, it seemed like the injury was getting worse, like an infection was spreading.

He didn’t know how off he might be, but after some thought Schneep came to the conclusion that the scar was due to whatever Dark had done that initially caused him to sleep for three months. Henrik needed to find out what actually happened to the glitch, and he knew that it was incredibly ridiculous to try and find information from Dark. Just the concept of the idea made him go pale. But that meant he was left to go to Anti. The idea of that made him want to binge drink.

Though he hated the concept, Henrik needed to learn. He needed to get information and find out what was happening to the glitch. He needed to know if this was something that would infect the others, he didn't want Anti putting the others in any more danger. Henrik shook his head, closing the folder for the night. He sighed, leaning against the arm of his chair. How was he supposed to get Anti to open up about what happened to him? How was he going to get Anti to talk about one of his most vulnerable moment to someone that he hated, and also hated him equally as much. That's where he'd start, Scheep decided. He didn't know how he was going to do it, but he'd have to stop hating him for a while. Again, the thought made him want to drink. On top of taking care of all the other egos, he'd have to learn to stop hating Anti.

[venee-call-ferrer]

Into the Wild Wood

For Reylo Week 2018

Day 4 Mythology 

Into the Wild Wood: Chapter 3. Excerpt from Chiaroscuro

After the closing circle, Rey was standing at the altar watching the participants leave when a tall man dressed completely in black with a long velvet cap flowing around him approached her. He stopped before taking her in then bowing his head in respect.

“Thank you, That was a lovely ritual.” He breathed.

“Your welcome,” Rey said, out of habit. She was taken back by the emotionally charged air that seemed to be dancing between them. She felt the desire and need emanating from him. And… a sense of insecurity yet determination.

Reaching for her hand and taking it, his eyes locked on hers. He ever so gently brought her hand up brushing his lips against her bare knuckles, the action sent sparks throughout her body. The room seemed to spin for a moment.

He quickly placed something in her hand and said, “Join me tonight, if you feel so called.”

She didn’t know what to say. She was transfixed unable to think properly, much less speak, still tingling from the touch of his lips against her skin.

“Adieu, my queen”. He then turned and made his way to the door. She stood there breathless staring after him just watching him walk away.  Glancing back at her he smiled and was gone.

Who was this guy? This mysterious creature, tall dark and so, so fucking handsome. He looked and carried himself like a prince, a very dark prince. She mused.

She looked down at her hand to find a notecard, made from fine heavy black paper, with deckled edges and inscribed in silver ink were the words:

“ Expose yourself to your deepest fear; after that,

fear has no power,

and the fear of freedom shrinks and vanishes.

You are free!”

~ Jim Morrison  

Bacchae, 10:30 in the Oak Ballroom

She had always wanted to attend one of the Bacchae rituals at the Pantheacon but, it had always been in direct competition with the Stardust rituals. They were always scheduled at the same time.

The archetype of Dionysus had called to her on more than one occasion, generally when her soul cried for hedonistic release and the desire for unbidden pleasure. But, she never really explored that call. She was curious, even more so now with the dark one’s invitation.

Deny it; she could not. She was drawn to him, to the darkness that seemed to make up every ounce of his flesh. There was the faintest hint, a flicker of light that she saw when she looked into his eyes; eyes darker than the deepest night, full of sadness and want. She wanted to touch that glowing ember.

Besides, she convinced herself, it could be research for her dissertation. From what she had read in her studies of ancient rites the worshipers of Dionysus used ritual for transformation work, the intoxication from the wine sacrament and the ecstatic dancing served to free the spirit, to let one face their fears and their true desires. Moving from ego into an ecstatic state; it was designed to liberate one from the confines of societal norms and restraints. Celebrating that that had been hidden or cast aside, letting the individual return to their primal nature. Dionysus was the wild beast-like god, our unconscious minds that each of us possessed, waiting for release.

Rey felt that the transformation work that took place in ritual was guided by the inner working of the individual. The act of ritual practice allowed one to tap into their inner world to assist them in drawing out that which had been buried; those parts of oneself packed away, the parts that needed healing. Tending to the hurts and traumas of our past.

The great myths warned of madness, of the women who tore apart men. She questioned that; sure that it was not the gods that drove people to do horrible things. It was the nature of the individual that surfaced that would commit such acts. She felt that some people were more drawn to the ability of alcohol and drugs to strip away their inhibitions and give them a crutch; an excuse for the actions they perform under the influence. She had seen first hand how people could abuse a drug and commit heinous acts. She was also aware that there had been group leaders that existed in the broader community that had done questionable things under the so-called “guides of the god or gods”. They claimed “that God had demanded it” when it came to them taking responsibility for their actions. She also knew just how and exorbitant amount of wrong actions took place in the realm of the Catholic church and other religions.The thought sickened her.

Setting the disgusting thoughts aside, she moved to pack up her things realizing, she had merely an hour before the Bacchae to get ready. She intended on experiencing it tonight, intrigued by the handsome stranger. ~~~~

Ren entered the Empire hotel ballroom with fellow ritualist trailing not far behind him. The room was the overused color of cream, with a gaudy carpet with repeating angles and lines creating odd shapes in muted shades of green, yellow, and browns. Absolutely atrocious.

He always thought it odd that the Pcon happened in a hotel and not out in nature. The hotel was so sterile and a businesslike place. It was not a place that one would feel close to the spiritual world. One should be among the trees and the flowing of water when communing with the spirit. Yet he understood the necessity of doing a ritual at the con it exposed those who might otherwise never have the chance to experience the wealth of spiritual practice that existed in the world.

The group quickly went to work setting up the altars and pouring the wine for the participants who would drink it in the name of the Dionysus.

Ren had already changed into his leather pants that were way too tight for his liking.  But, Phasam had insisted assuring him that he looked good in them. He was shirtless under his velvet cape that dragged upon the floor behind him, a silk wreath of vines and plastic grapes crowned his head. He wore dark eyeliner to draw out his eyes also, demanded of him by his priestess. He had felt a bit silly putting it on but, he had to admit it made eyes darker and more seductive looking.

He made his way to the throne that had been set up for him on the stage. It was merely a conference chair that was now being adorned by a silky burgundy cloth. On each side of the throne were candelabras with fake candles that seem almost real until you got closer to the plastic flame.

Removing his cloak he felt a bit of a chill from the stale conditioned air. Phasma handed him a goblet of wine. He drank from it hungrily not saying a word. He was already starting to feel the effects.

Closing his eyes he focused on opening himself up to the call of his inner God-self. The one he fashioned in the likeness of Dionysus; the one that allowed him access to his strength and courage; the one that fortified his resolve. The one that allowed him to be present and unashamed of himself.

He took his place on the throne and started his trance meditation. Letting his mind settle and release the thoughts of the day, the material world fall away piece by piece; finding the well-worn path that stretched before him leading deep into the hollows of the wild wood; with each step, he came closer to his God-self, he anticipated the reunion with unbidden joy. He moved through the trees into the small clearing, illuminated by the full moon, he saw him sitting on the stone throne. Draped in the pelt of a lion, Ren’s demeanor was one of complete acceptance and understanding.

Ren came to stand in front of him, and his God-self rose, placing his hand upon Ren’s shoulders. The man bowed his head in respect then looked into his own eyes. There were no words only the unspoken request that transpired with just a look. Ren longed to be merged, to be one with the God-self. Deliberately and slowly the god stepped into him filling him up with pride, power, and unconditional acceptance of himself. He felt the energy flow through his veins, alighting every molecule. His body shifted with the surge; his chest opening, spine stretching upwards, roots shooting down through the floor of the room; through the wood and concrete, searching out the black soil beneath, digging in. The roots stretched and spread downward towards the molten center of the earth, touching it softly, and feeling it grab on to him filling him with strength as it shot upward into his body. He opened his eyes seeing anew.

Before him was the candlelit room. People milling into the space as the drums played, softly whispering the beat of a heart.

He lazily scanned the participants, then he saw her. She had come! His breath caught in his chest. His heart felt light. She was just standing there, an angel in white flowing fabric wrapped about her voluptuous form, stark against the sea of black-clad onlookers. His flock for the evening. He watched her carefully, as she fidgeted nervously, looking entirely out of place. A bit lost even, he thought. She had appeared so self-assured only a short time ago when she was in command of the Stardust ritual, but, here and now, he could tell she was out of her element.

He felt the light emanating from her, and the energy that flowed from her encircled him like a gentle breeze calling him into the forest deep. He was undeniably drawn to her and her light; it felt as if it filled a part of him that had laid dormant for far too many years. The pull was so strong, he felt it would pull him off center.

She had come and he knew somehow that now their lives from this day forward would be entwined irrevocably so, for better or for worse. His insecurities tingled and rose up, boiling just under the skin, the fear of rejection taunting him.

His God-self roared to life again taking a stand, protecting him from his inner demons. Dionysus whispered to him “You are a Divine!...You are worthy!... You are strong and brave beyond measure... You can have what you want.”

Phasma, the  High Priestess climbed the steps before Ren then slowly offered him the holy sacrament of blood red wine again. He took it to his mouth drinking it down fully, his Adam's apple flexing with each swallow, wine dripping from his lips like blood from a kill, his wild eyes searching the room.

“Fuck he's hot,” Rey whispered to herself. He truly looked like a god sitting on the high throne. His chest exposed, his black leather pants snug enough so one wouldn’t have to imagine what lay beneath, his smile mischievous and unnerving. He took her breath away.

She hadn’t considered the idea that he would be aspecting the god in the ritual. She felt trepidation and excitement coiling in her, expectation palatable on her tongue. She had heard stories about the explicit nature of Bacchae rituals, and how it often brought out the wildest side of its participants. But, of course, this was the con and a public ritual do it would surely be more Vanilla she thought.

She looked around at the others in the room mostly adorned in black pagan finery. All except herself and his attendants who were draped in white robes. She felt suddenly a bit out of place in her the white garments, wishing she had brought her black cape along. She looked like she should be at his side. Part of her wanted to attend to his every need; to stand by him. But, for now she was merely a participant.

The priestess stood before the god and addressed the crowd that had gathered. She welcomed everyone and went over the rules of the rite before she launched into the casting of the circle and calling in of the god.

As the priestess moved to invoke the god raising her glass high to her audience she called to Dionysus.

“We call upon Dionysus,

god of the vine.

He who opens our hearts to the world within,

He who instructs us in the ways of passion.”

“We call upon Dionysus,

He that calls forth our true selves.

Who asks nothing of us but what we desire most.

Lets us call him here and now.”

“Join us, Dionysus,

We bow before you,

Your humble servants.

Giving ourselves to you,

Opening ourselves to the possibilities.

Releasing our inhibitions,

Willing to face our fears.”

“Come to us,

Dance to the beat of our drums.

Come to us,

Drink of the nectar we offer.

Come to us,

Bless us with your presence.

Come to us, Come to us, come!”

“Hail and welcome Dionysus.”

As the air shifted around her, Rey felt the hairs on her arms and the back of her neck stand on end. She felt a power surge, around her and what she interrupted as desire, lust, relentless lust emanating from him. It ran throughout the room like bolts of lightning. She shivered. She watched the leather-clad man’s eyes go even darker, his posture erected and intoxicating. He radiated sexuality and danger as he stood raising to his full height, towering over the attendants by his side. A deep growl bellowing from him as he moved forward slowly making his way down the steps and towards the center of the room, right where she was standing. He looked straight at her.

“So, you've come to join me? he said with a magnetic smile.

Are you ready?

Ready to let go of all your inhibitions?

To face your fears and watch them crumble at your feet?

To drink the divine nectar and lose yourself in the passions of the flesh?”

He said in a husky and bewitching voice.

He spoke as if she was the only one in the room. Eyes lock on hers  He smirked smugly, looking at her a few more beats to ensure that she knew what he said was directed towards her. Then he slowly gazed down her body, his smile grew wide and mischievous as if he would devour her right then and there. He broke eye contact upon turning to address the other participants.

“What say you?” He lifted his glass

“Are you ready?”

The crowded road to life “YES!”

“Will you open yourself up to the wonders of desire?”

Yes!

“Will drink with me and dance?”

YES!

One of the tenders making their way through the crowd with trays she handed Rey a cup of wine.

Ren spoke with a commanding and god-like voice “Raise your glasses!’

‘Let us bless them with our passions, our desires, and our truths.”

Scanning the crowd, he stated, ‘Speak your fears into the wine.’

“We drink in honor of our wild selves,

we drink to liberate our souls from fear,

we drink  to stir our lust,

we drink to remember our deepest desires

and to manifest them here and now.”

Pausing a moment to catch his breath.

“DRINK!” he roared.

“We are divine; we are of blood and bone, fused together with stardust. We are alive!

So mote it be!

Ren drank deeply drowning himself with the sweet nectar letting some of it slipped from his full red lips again, dripping slowly down the side of his luscious mouth. She felt the desire rise up between her legs, her heart fluttering in its wake.

His eyes flashed at her again before he urged the crowd to dance. The drums picked up the rhythm of a trance beat. She felt it drawing her in as she closed her eyes letting the music guide her. She felt the pull, her thoughts moving inward, the neural pathways firing up, leading her into a trance. Her body was moving without direction or concern, the heat rising up in her as the drums pounded out their call.

Ren moved, dancing and whirling, in and out of the participants while searching and pleading hands dragged across his torsos, eyes wanting at the edge of his site. The wild cries and laughter floating up as the crowd surged against the drums.

He tracked her every move as if circling his prey. Inflamed with passion, feeling the pull to her like the proverbial moth to the flame. Knowing for certain he'd burn alive, but, he could not help himself.

Wine flowed into his goblet again. He drank. He was definitely tipsy now and high on spirit. He howled like a coyote, baring his teeth as his body edged towards her.

She was dancing as if born to it. Her eyelids heavy, lost in the music, spinning, swaying, ebbing flowing with the crowd. Ren stopped before her as she turned into him. Her hands falling against his bare chest to steady herself. Her breath falling on his slick skin. His nipples hardening at its warmth. She looked up to find his eyes as they devoured her, taking in every freckle, the color of her skin like pearls from the mighty sea, and her eyes! Maker, those eyes, hazel with flecks of gold looking up at him. With a light burning brighter then the sun it’s self.

He wanted to know her, all of her! All her thoughts and dreams, fears and desires. His mind felt like the fucking Fourth of July. The sparks between them made every part of his body crackle with desire. His passion hardening against the leather of his pants. Their bodies fell into sync with one another, merging into the dance. It was like they had done this before. It felt so utterly comfortable dancing in each other arms like he had found home. Yin and Yang a last entangled in synergy.

Ren slowed, taking her in; searching her eyes for understanding. He saw vast galaxies tented with emotion, and bursting starlight, and there he could see the longing and recognition. He could not turn away.

He handed her his goblet wordlessly urging her to drink. She took it swallowing gulp after gulp. Her eyes not leaving his. He growled with lust watching her swallow and imagined dirty things. Taken the glass from her hand and passing it to one of his tenders. Then he pulled her into him close placing his forehead against hers, swaying to and forth a rhythm, not unlike sex. She felt more right than anything he’d ever known.

“You know I can take what I want” he purred.

“So can I,” she responded teasingly, lifting her head moving closer to his lips. Then she kissed him holding her lips to his the softness and taste maddening to him. He felt like her light was piercing him. He pressed his lips to hers, now knowing she desired him. He felt her tongue searching for entry, and he opened to her. Her fire roared into him.  He was caught in the wonder of it all. Her tongue exploring, dredging up dark and deep passions that rose up to meet her light.

Her kisses were desperate and forceful it seemed as if she had just emerged from a punishing journey through the desert, emerging lost and dying of thirst. Now willing to take whatever he offered. Knowing that he was hers for the taking; their bodies clung to each other like a lifeboat adrift at sea. Their hands roaming over each other’s bodies, tugging and pulling the clothes and skin of the other. Lost in their own world, everything else was banished from their awareness.

The crowd picked up the pace of their chaotic dance pushing them apart. Tearing him from her sweet arms. He cried out in agony.  Ren shook his head, searching for firm ground losing sight of her in the crowd.  One of his attendants grabbed him, quickly pulling him out of the mass of bodies and leading him to his throne.

Steadying himself, he heard the priest calling him back from the edge. He really did not want to. He wanted to keep this feeling to find her again and engulf her with his body.

The priestess released him from his services to the god and the circle and lead them through a short grounding. Then she wished them well on their journeys. And sending them on their way.

Ren’s head was pure chaos. His heart felt as if it would tear his chest open wide. He found he was sitting in his thrown not sure how he had gotten there or why she was not in his arms.

Someone was talking to him, calling him. He blinked open trying to focus.

“Ren…. come back Ren” The tenders called to him

“You are safe now, we have you”

He shook uncontrollably, feeling his power leave him.

“That’s it … look at me...What's your Name?”

“Ren” he struggled in a daze.

“Good, That’s good. Saying your name again.”

“Ren” Someone pushed a pinch of salt into his mouth and it jolted him wide awake.

Eyes flying open instantly knowing where he was and why.

“That's good Ren… now… where are you,?”

“A fucking hotel” He spat.

“Yes Ren”

“Where is she?” He moved to stand up but, dizzy and unsure the attendants pushed him back down on the thrown. He acquiesced despite his urges.

Who?” One of them asked.

“The girl!”

“I don’t know, Ren”

He growled loudly with frustration

“Shhh... just breathe.” The attendant surmised draping his cape about his wide shoulders then offered him water. He slow drank it coming back to himself. His thoughts were only on her. Where had she gone? He searched the room for her but there was only the river of black leaving the ballroom. He sunk down the chair. He had to find her. Was all he could think about

Ren just wanted out of there. Where had she run off to? He knew that he needed to do after ritual debrief but, then he had to track her down. Praying he’d find her at one of the suite parties on the 10th floor. He can’t let her slip away. Not when she had set his heart ablaze and all he understood was being in her arms.

[strawberrymarshmallowstories]

Oneshot | An Evening in November

Title: An Evening in November

Pairing: Hoseok/Reader

Word Count: 1445 <3

Rating: SFW guys, it’s all safe!

Summary:  It was just one of those days, but Hoseok always turned those kinds of days into something special. 

Masterlist

~~~

You closed the glass door behind you, stepping out on the wooden porch that was your spot to be during beautiful summer days. Today, months later, you could feel the cold seeping through the soles of your slippers as the chill pinched slightly at your nose. Even when you had to pull the cardigan tighter around yourself to combat the chill that did not wish to spare you, you liked the crisp evening  air.

 Days ago one of your girlfriends had raved about a meteor shower, a rant that passed through from one ear and went out from another. But as it was getting darker by the minute, you had a sudden urge to look upwards, towards the moon that was supposed to be at its fullest.

 It was one of those little things that was yours to enjoy, which would be there wherever you went, and there was something magical and alluring about the full moon that made you feel free, like the whole world was yours to explore. In these moments there was nothing else more important than you and the air that vibrated gently around you, and these brief evenings to you were a chance to withdraw between the walls of your mind, enjoying the peace that you found.

 You heard the door click behind you.

 'The sky looks especially lovely tonight,' you said and you heard an agreeing hum before a set of arms snaked themselves around your waist. The heat at your back was appreciated as your body relaxed against his within seconds. You let your head lean back against his shoulder and revelled in the contrast between the warm and the cold. Your mind was clear, thoughts held at bay, and the warmth of his strength had a way of making you feel safe - no matter where and when. Hoseok was always warm, his presence a medicine for your stress and it had your whole body buzzing with contentment.

 This moment was perfect.

 All the stupid things running through your mind during the day were gone by now, leaving you alone with yourself as your ego took a step back into the shadows. There was nothing else in the air around you but you and him, and maybe a couple of birds inhabiting the area that did not care. It was quiet, only a rare cicada added some melody to the moment and you guessed it must not have received the memo that summer evenings have passed for this season.

 Hoseok must've been cold but he said nothing - and neither did you as the lure of the moon was enchanting and you just couldn't look away.

 You placed your hands over his and felt him shudder slightly.

 'Your hands are freezing,' he whispered but embraced you even tighter. You felt a small smile tugging at your lips as your thumb absently stroked slow circles over the back of his hand, your eyes still on the white bright unearthly circle in the sky that made you feel full and hollow at the same time. The soft skin under your hands, the heat of his chest against your back and the velvety sky above you - it was all you could ever wish for.

 But then it was gone and in surprise you turned your head only to be guided to face him. And you did, willingly, as watching him was your favourite thing to do. The way his hair fell on his forehead, how his eyelashes fluttered as he blinked, his every breath, his every smile and dimple that came with it.

 'Do you believe in love at first sight?' He asked and you let him draw you in closer until there was only a couple of inches between the two of you. His eyes locked on yours and you didn't even bother to stop a grin that was forming on your lips as a memory interrupted the flow of your thoughts.

 He always liked to joke about your first meeting and it was one you would never forget - it was something that hadn't felt magical in the moment but which as a memory was beautiful and something out of a story book. Because if you hadn't been there at that moment, if you had given in to your jetlag and had decided not to go sightseeing, none of this would've happened.

 You wouldn't be there. With him.

 'May I have this dance?' He asked, his eyes locked on yours and you couldn't look away, didn't want to look away, ever.

 'Yes you may, my kind sir,' you responded, finding your voice breathy and soft as you lifted your right hand in the air. It was in his a second later when a hum fell off his lips, and then you two moved to his tune. Nothing overly showy, slow steps here and there, but in sync without hesitation. You let yourself fall deep into the moment, your body moving on its own in a way it remembered, in a way that followed Hoseok without a second guess.

 He most definitely was a dancer, you noted as even with minimal moves, the way he carried himself was mesmerising. His every motion was effortless and graceful and you wondered if he knew how handsome he was this evening, under this moonlight that cast its light in the most beautiful ways it could. He moved with his instincts and you let your body follow his lead.

 His eyes were remarkably clear, like the deepest ocean, and there was an emotion underlying in his gaze that spoke to you in a million of different ways for which words would never be enough. It spoke of things he didn't say, and as you looked at him, his soul spoke to yours and you felt so much gratitude and love that years ago would've had you running away in fear. But you had learned to accept this, to give in to this.

 When the melody stopped, the two of you ended up in the middle of the porch, illuminated by the light from indoors and the moonlight from up above. But neither of you saw anything but each other, there was nothing else but you and him.

 His gaze briefly flickered to your lips and you knew he wanted to kiss you, but just as you, he enjoyed the moment, prolonged but calm and you melted in the light of his small smile. Your breaths were short and shaky as you waited for him, letting him decide what he wished to do. And he took his time, his sweet time while you noted something that burned at the backs of his brown eyes which made you wonder what he was thinking.

 His hand came up to your face, brushing aside a strand that had been tickling your cheek. There was tenderness in his eyes that almost hurt you, and if you had been any less confident, you would've been scared of hurting him, would've been afraid of commitment his eyes spoke of. His palm came to rest on your cheek, his thumb slowly caressing your skin. But he did not move in closer nor did he move away, and you could feel your lips tremble as you waited.

 'You're such a -,' you whispered, not once losing the track of the mischievous glint playing in his dark orbs. You had always yearned for this kind of closeness, this kind of a connection that felt perfect even if you two just stood there, doing nothing but enjoying the proximity and the presence of each other.

 He smiled again, 'A handsome and a wonderful man, I know.'

 This desire for true closeness had been awakened from the day when your eyes fell on him, when you saw his eyes that spoke to the depths of your soul, a deep sense of knowing a quiet but a sure throb in your heart that had once stunned you into silence.

 'Such a tease,' you corrected as you leaned forward to brush your lips against his.

 Your dance was perfect, everything from breathing to how you moved in sync. He understood you and you understood him without needing any words translate your feelings and thoughts. He was the only one that made you feel complete - made you laugh your heart out, made you want to learn more of him with each passing day, was there when it had been hard, and made you feel love that touched your soul in ways you never knew could be reached.

 If by the end of this dance your breath was taken away, you would know the exact reason why.

  ~

[gender-pages-blog]

CAMPAIGN:

1. 

I Want You To Fuck All The Women In Me The female heart carries courage in the chambers that pump blood into lifeless souls, for it has learnt to surreptitiously push itself through tsunamis that dismantled strategically established structures with a mere hair flip. It knows how to put make-up in crowded metros, when all the women wonder why she's so obsessed with the idea of putting up make-up, that she's doing it here in front of everyone, when she could have done it within the confines of her home. Or wait, eyebrows raised, with questions on their otherwise serene morning faces, "why do you need make-up when you're beautiful the way you're?" To the women going to office without wake-up, standing firm amidst unsettling remarks, "your eyes look patchy and droopy", "are you sick or didn't get enough sleep?"Her dark circles are easily ignored evidences,of all the nights she was up convincing her family, to let her go to another town for her undergraduate degree, and from the time she spent breastfeeding her hungry daughter in the middle of the night, or from ensuring that socks don't keep falling off the little feet of her son. To the women who spent 6 hours dressing up, fixing it, re-doing it, deciding it's all been done wrong, so staring over all again, imitating the women on the Internet, finding just a fraction of the perfection she was looking for. We know how years of societal ridicule telling you that you're shorter, darker, heavier, slimmer, taller, than other women or than what men would have liked, has reduced you to a zombie feeding off on other people's shallow validation, and how deprived you're of the goddess that sits in your chest singing victory songs to the gods in heaven, proclaiming how it learnt to fight, from the time when she was a ball of blood and flesh in her mother's womb, hearing carefully drawn strategies to strangle her before she can come into the world only to learn what the world will snatch from her, from the time when genital mutilation was the only way out to keep her from letting things in, from the time when marriage stumbled like an unprecedented warning call over her ears when the only thing she wanted to hear was, "well done, you're meant for great things!", but she forced herself to learn each word of the "Guide To A Happy Married Life", learning how to find happiness in her husband's happiness, and her so-called "conflict of duties" didn't permit her to utter a word to her parents, because daughters can be scarred and sacred and scared, but no matter what, they don't come back home once married because they were never yours to begin with, from the time when she could claim the streets and dance naked celebrating her glory, being unrestrained and beautiful and ugly and melodramatic without giving a fuck to any tag that tried to push itself down her throat slowly choking her and claiming everything she could have been, from the time when liking pink and hugs and romantic movies were blurred lines segregating the dumb whores from the intellectual bitches, from the time when Holi (the festival of colours) was an excuse of a festival for men to feed off her in socially approved ways, leaving marks of their convenient pride over the skin that she proudly wore, over the skin that just wanted to see the colours of life, they showed her the colours of their souls when she was just 7, from the time when they told her she would never be able to walk or dance because she is too fat to move like that and has flat feet that will stifle her aspirations to keep pace, from the time when being beautiful was a warning bell that would never stop ringing and being ugly was "desperation dressed subtle", from the time when standing up for yourself was being a feminazi-sick-hysterical-neurotic-abused-crazy woman, and being silent was ignorant-dumb-weak-powerless-submissive, from the time when glancing through books under bed covers were plans to destroy established civilisations and control systems meant to maintain exploitative structures, from the time when letting a man touch you wherever he wants however he wants defined how much you loved him by surrendering your body-mind-soul at his feet even though he refuses to let you stroke his hair when he "doesn't feel like it", from the time when biting my lip was sexual and uncovering my breasts could wreck havoc  over the most dead faces in the room, from the time when you divorced me and left me stranded in the middle of the road with your child in my womb and I still tried my best to ensure that our daughter could have a relationship with her father despite the abuse that became my everyday life, to the time when social media where I find the illusion of being able to say what I feel, is a careful traitor trading my messenger (a place to initiate communication) in the hands of men, who can't resist telling a woman they don't even know, how much they wanna be frandz with her, and fuck her under the streetlight in a car that stinks of their unfriendly odour, but they say that the hostile smell is of her unclean and hairy vagina, wait but try naming the patriarchal instruction manual that told you to equate a woman's genitals with roses and lemons and peach, so I can have that shit banned, from the time when travelling alone meant being a money bank deliberately putting itself on sale, to the time when a simple activity like travelling alone was enough to get me called "rebellious",when it was nothing more than a statement of my power, defying your suffocating nerve-cracking fear-installing soul-wrenching systems, from the time when leaving my hair open meant a rude declaration of my recklessness on an otherwise warm winter day, and how sitting with my legs spread wide grants you commodious certification to get right between them no matter how much I scream, from the time when sex meant your entire being reducing me to pieces with the blink of an eye, without taking the time to understand what my body wants and how it responds, when it meant letting hormones dictate the anxieties of my confused head and shivering soul, I think today is your day to fuck me, show me how you will fuck all the women in me, because I swear that though the women in me are tired, they will fuck the fuck out of your fragile ego rusting at their fingertips, if you take a close look at us,you will see how we are so tired our bones would've given up on us if we didn't have this perpetual sadness keeping them together,our wombs would have refused to nurture lives if we didn't push hard enough to expel out lives that could live by everything you wanted to kill,our blood would refuse to flow if you weren't following our unchaste moves with the vigilance of a midnight cop, look at us, my dear, we're about to change the world, the tables are turning, the lights are getting dim, keep your shoulders down, don't grin like that in front of me, stop your suggestive wink emojis, step down from that convenient biased system-granted CEO chair that your ass is so accustomed to, your time's up boy, your time's up my boy.

2.

Thing I learnt after being in an all girls college:

1) It could be extremely uncomfortable to sit with your legs close to each other, as the touching/rubbing of thighs causes sweat and irritation. And contrary to popular belief, women feel absolutely comfortable keeping their legs apart and airy, when they aren't being monitored by sperm-possessors under the gender-conforming systematic apparatus that sexualises vaginas, hence reinforcing the idea that the vagina should be carefully hidden at all times, as sitting with your legs open grants legitimate authority to the privileged sex to get right between them or puts the sex in their eyes. DAYUM GIRL SPREAD THEM LEGS WHENEVER YOU WANT HOWEVER YOU WANT 2) Women tend to love each other without any inherent impulse to harbour hate or jealously over how the other woman looks/what the other woman possesses. In-fact, when they're allowed to express themselves in a free setting (without being headed by men in lines and classrooms), they recognise their power to RESIST/MANIPULATE systems that strategically reproduce similar societies while subtly accommodating the idea of a progressive flux. 3) In an environment where you don't have the  consistent fear of being groped/harassed/raped shoved down your throat with every breath you take, women LEARN TO UNLEARN pre-conceived ideas of living in bodies, that are pre-determined crime spots, with socially approved criminals, who are just doing what nature has conveniently assigned them to do, and since women are the ones defying the law by resisting the order of nature, anything happening or the mere lack of it is caused either by the inability/ability of women to have caused otherwise. Reading, discussing, sharing (without the fear of threatening traditionally empowered groups), often enables women to work their way through contexts and scenarios while reclaiming their power to bargain with patriarchy and challenge discourses. 4) Timely acceptance of your sexual impulses is the key to recognition of manufactured consent. Only you own your the body you inhabit, and if anyone tries to alter your state of consciousness, refusing to take the time to understand how your body functions and what it really needs, you can show them the unapologetic exit gate from your phenomenal life. I think what I'm trying to say is that I didn't know how the fear of being physically weaker, the fear of being groped/raped/beaten, altered my mind and body so much on an everyday basis, until I stepped into a world where I was allowed to run free without anyone discussing the weird shape of my ass when it moves too fast, or without anyone commenting on my nipples being visible because I didn't wear a bra, or my dark lipstick shade being a subtle invitation to invade everything familiar. I slowly learnt to voice my opinion without a louder (ignorant) voice suppressing mine. I learnt to wear crop-tops without the fear of my waist-line being a mid-day party for hungry hands. I learnt everything by unlearning what FEAR, had almost gradually, with the abruptness and the consistency of a moving fan, injected into my craving nerves. And for the first time, the grass was greener on my side. For the first time, the grass on my side wasn't short"er" or weak"er" or less"er". For the first time, the grass on my side was all that there was, and I was told to run on it freely for as long as I wanted to, without the other side calling the act of running, sexual or rebellious or inappropriate. Of-course, my hair flew and my boobs shook, but it was all okay. For the first time, I was complete. I was whole. I was enough. For the first time, sentences began with, "if she does this/does that, then..." You'll probably tell me I shouldn't have gone to an all girls' college because it alienates the viewpoint of the other gender, and I would look at you with puppy eyes amused at the spontaneity of the moment, where you never realised how the OTHER viewpoint is all that has existed since the beginning of time.  When male viewpoint is all you've known all your life, a certain distance is needed to give you the permission (as it's said) to have your own. To let you have your own as an independent entity, without existing in relation to a fear-installing, soul-wrenching, gender-reinforcing, system. And unless you have your OWN, can you fully accept the OTHER?

Artist: Avnika Gupta Sociology Honours; Lady Shri Ram College For Women, Columnist; Berlin ArtParasites & Thought Catalog

The Redesigned, Renovated and Refurbished project is running a campaign on social media where we invite all of you to transgress, embrace and showcase your true gender performance by wearing whatever you would have/ already do, had their been no regulation and the different spaces you would occupy in those clothes.