#dominiant male

[severussnapedamagedlove]

MORE THAN A ONE TRICK PONY - - - - > UPDATE

Chapter Two

Read fully at https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14201958/2/More-Than-A-One-Trick-Pony

Read a little just below ;)

When they returned to camp, Dale was the first to acknowledge their approach. His arm waved high in the distance atop an old motorhome. A long rifle hanged from a strap on his shoulder. A pair of binoculars at his chest.

Laini waved back. Her lips curled to a small smile.

Out the corner of her eye, she saw Shane shake his head a little. A tongue stuck to the inside of his cheek. A sharper crunch to the gravel beneath their feet.

           “Things alright?” Dale called when they were in earshot.

Shane grumbled. He hurried to the ladder that climbed to the top of the RV. “Everything’s fine, Dale.”

The way Shane had bolted after her probably left the camp wondering. It was not his way to abandon his role. The moment they all stepped off the highway together to watch the city be eviscerated by army jets, he took command of the wandering horde of lost survivors, making the camp what it was, with water and as many amenities as they could muster without being too close to populated areas.

They were lucky to search the highway for supplies left in cars. It gave them a nice jump start on building their camp.

Many of the survivors were incredible people. Helpful, resourceful, and unafraid to bond. Some, however, were the exception. Two brothers named Merle and Daryl were unpleasant. Their hick accents ran thick, as did the venom on their tongues if either were tempted to anger by the slightest provocation. Shane being their trigger with his idiotic sheriff’s cap and condescending tone when it came to the pair. It was obvious they were not the type to respect law enforcement.

Not that she blamed them either. Sometimes she was met with a side of Shane she was not fond of. The way he thrived on a built-up sense of power by his badge. It’d been the cause of much upset in her decision to continue hooking up, back when there were little things to consider like how she would tell her friends she was actively seeing a sheriff’s deputy, not the sharpening of weapons and never going to sleep without a perimeter check.

The Dixon’s, shockingly, were not the most uncomfortable to be around. Even the younger brother seemed unsteady near Ed Peletier, a man there with his wife and young daughter, who only ever seemed to yell as his family and treat them as dogs while he reclined in a seat and offered nothing but a snide comment.

Laini eyed the man at his campsite in his folding chair with a few fingers tucked inside the waist of his jeans as his wife slaved over a blaring fire with large pots steaming in her face. Poor Carol. Her body was thin and frail. She gripped the large spoon tightly, with effort, to stir the water until it reached the peak of its boil for ten minutes.

Ed just watched. He made no move to help. A shred of compassion, absent on the man’s face.

           “Lain,” Shane’s voice called.

She raised her focus to the top of the RV.

           “Go on and fetch my canteen out the tent, will you?”

He squatted on the edge of the RV when she returned. Her toes went rigid as she raised it high enough for him to reach.

           “Thank you, baby girl.” Shane said. He glanced over his shoulder to check Dale’s position. “We’ve talked about this. Just stay away from them.”

Her hands drifted to her hips. “It isn’t right.”

           “Right.” He shook his head. “All right in the world is gone. It is everyone for themselves now. And as long as he is leavin’ everyone else be, I expect him to be left alone.”

Laini glared up against the sun at the dark shadow of a man she truly despised for putting that distinction on her like a god damn simpleton. She could see that the world was different. But it shouldn’t have mattered. Refugees of society or not, they were still human. They had to stand for something.

           “Hey. Don’t look at me like that. I’ve got enough on my plate with half our able-bodied camp in that city right now. I can’t be throwin’ anyone out. Even if he is a bastard.” His eyes drifted upward to the man who now barked at Carol to fetch him a portion of the reserved rations. The slender woman jumped at the sound of his voice. She softly explained the rations were for everyone. Ed did not like the answer. He said something that Laini couldn’t make out, and whatever it was, got Carol hopping over to fetch it for him. “Who knows. One day, he might be useful.”

           “For what?” She scowled. “To show you how to slap me around without leaving a bruise.”

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[diana-bluewolf]

I'm astonished at what ai videos can do based on just one pic O_O

[thephenotype]

[anto-pops]

Heart of Vipers - Ominis Gaunt x Female!Reader

Summary: After an ill-fated confrontation with Ominis' family, you come to learn that they want you for themselves. More specifically, they want your abilities for themselves. Ominis is less than pleased with the revelation and returns home with the intention of proving that the only person you belong to is him.

Alternatively summarized as Dominis turning into a possessive alpha male in the wake of his family's sudden interest in you.

Word Count: 9.3k

Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, minor depictions of violence, explicit sexual content, rough/possessive sex à la Dominis

Descriptions of Marvolo and Aleister Gaunt heavily credited to legacyshenanigans

Full fic can be found here on Ao3 (as always with more eclectic tags)

This was a bad idea. Truly one of the worst ones you had come up with in recent times– which was saying something when you stopped to consider all the stupid shit you’d gotten yourself into since starting at Hogwarts. But this was a decision born of desperation, and one that you adamantly refused to go back on. 

Not that you could, realistically. You were already here. 

The Gaunt Estate was massive. It was an imposing structure, shrouded in a perpetual darkness that seemed to kill off even the tiniest slivers of light, and you’d noted the distinctly foul scent of dark magic that encased the mansion from roughly a mile away. There were no Floo Flames to utilize for travel, so you’d been forced to apparate to Great Hangleton and walk the remaining six miles to reach your destination. This was your first time setting foot anywhere near Ominis’ childhood home, and the threat of splinching yourself by apparating to an unfamiliar location was a very legitimate concern. 

You almost wished you’d taken the gamble, if only to spare yourself the harrowing journey on foot. 

Ominis had to already be inside the manor, having left long before you decided you would follow him to essentially eavesdrop on his meeting with his family. You had never seen him so agitated in the hours leading up to his departure, and it was entirely due to the letter he’d received from his father. What it had said, you didn’t know, but you knew Ominis well enough to figure out that it wasn’t anything good. His entire demeanor had changed upon reading the apparent summons, but he wouldn’t tell you a lick of what it was about. He’d promised to return home as soon as he was able and left without so much as a goodbye kiss. 

The memory only reinforced the fact that this was a really bad idea. What the hell were you thinking? 

Now that you were actually here, you had no clue how to go about your poorly thought out plan. Going inside had always been the goal, but now that you were face to face with the blood-chilling building, you found yourself hesitating. Something told you that getting out would be a lot harder than getting in. You didn’t even know where Ominis could be, especially if the interior was as gargantuan as the exterior. Getting lost– or Merlin forbid, caught and tortured– seemed like the most plausible outcome. 

It was as the saying went; curiosity killed the cat. You seriously hoped you wouldn’t end up dead as a result of your inquisitiveness. 

Forcing one foot in front of the other, you started down the gravel path towards the arched double doors with your wand in hand. Your anxiety was like a physical entity hiding within your chest, but you smothered it beneath the overwhelming desire to ensure that Ominis was okay. While you knew he could handle himself, his family’s reputation preceded them, and you’d feared the worst earlier when you had borne witness to his expression shifting into something far more sinister than you were accustomed to. 

You cast a disillusionment charm for extra measure before giving the handle a testing twist, relieved to find that the door was unlocked. It wouldn’t surprise you if there were other safeguards in place that you were unaware of, but pressing on despite that unknown possibility was a risk you were willing to take. You opened the door a crack– just enough for you to squeeze through before quickly shutting it behind you– and you were instantly encased in suffocating darkness. 

The windows that lined the walls were evidently just for show. 

It smelled distinctly old inside, as though there had never been a time when the mansion wasn’t inhabited. The wooden columns that lined the entryway were cracked and worn, stretching all the way towards the vaulted ceilings before disappearing into the inky shadows high above. There was a striking amount of antique looking decor that lined the walls; from suits of armor, to ornate vases perched atop mahogany tables. Straight across from the front door was a giant portrait of what could only be the Gaunt family.

Ominis was nowhere to be found in it. 

The sound of distant, unintelligible voices echoed throughout the vast foyer from somewhere deeper in the house, drawing your attention and making the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. Your eyes scanned the room once more before you were furtively moving further into the room in the direction of the noise. 

Following the sound of the voices brought you to a giant oak doorway– a mere fraction of the size of the main entrance, but still obscenely large. From within you could hear a man you didn’t recognize, his throaty timbre one that seemed to command attention, and you couldn’t suppress the shiver that danced down your spine. Nothing about his tone sounded pleasant. 

“It’s been put off long enough,” you heard the man say as you sidled up directly against the door, careful not to lean on it too much and risk shoving it open. “We entertained your rebelliousness while you were at school, but Apollonia has anticipated this union for years now. It will happen. Whether you’re a willing participant, however, is up to you.”

“You already know my stance on the matter.” Ominis. “I’d sooner dig my own grave before I let you marry me off to that deplorable woman. She’s psychotic–” 

“A non-issue,” interjected the older voice. 

“Perhaps it’s irrelevant to you, but not to me,” Ominis snapped. You hardly recognized the threatening lilt in his voice; he sounded thoroughly fed up with the discussion, and you briefly wondered how long he’d been going at it with the unknown man. “She’s utterly wicked. Moreover she’s family. Have you forgotten my opposition to these incestuous relations you continue to shove down my throat?” 

At this point, you were almost positive the deeper voice belonged to Ominis’ father. You knew next to nothing about the man, other than the fact that Ominis loathed him with his entire being. Before you could delve further into your thoughts, a distinctly feminine voice filtered through the thin slit in the doorway, sounding colder than ice. 

“Aleister, give it a rest. If he wants to be dragged to the altar instead of walking down it, then so be it.” 

Ominis’ laugh was crass and devoid of any genuine humor, and you could practically hear the sneer in his rebuttal. “Bold of you to assume I’ll let myself be dragged anywhere. Try it and see what happens.” 

“I just don’t understand why you’re so opposed to this,” the woman continued as though he hadn’t even spoken. “You never used to fight us to this extent– you’ve always known what was expected of you as a Gaunt. Does that girl from Hogwarts have anything to do with this?” 

Your entire body went rigid at the mention of yourself, and a tense silence descended over the room. It was suddenly so quiet that you were certain you could hear a pin drop– but in this case the lack of sound allowed you to pick up on something shifting across the floorboards closer to you. You had barely glanced over your shoulder before you were jumping away from the door with your heart hammering in your chest. 

The biggest snake you’d ever seen in your life was slithering across the floor, its iridescent scales somehow reflecting the nonexistent light within the hallway. Your eyes went wider than saucers as you stepped away as much as you could, silently backing yourself into the tiny alcove beside the doorway in a bid to remain undetected– because if there was one thing the wizarding world had taught you, it was that beasts of any kind were far more intelligent than they were given credit for. The snake’s long, forked tongue flicked out incessantly as it made its way towards the doors, but it stopped short of the entryway to pivot its massive head in your direction. 

It was looking right at you. 

Fuck.

Your body tensed in anticipation of the worst; maybe it was venomous and you’d die quickly, or maybe it was more inclined to strangle the life out of you before depositing your corpse in front of Ominis and his parents. The thought made your stomach churn, and your eyes flicked down to confirm that yes– the disillusionment charm was still working– but that didn’t seem to matter where the reptile was concerned, and you mentally chided yourself for ever having let your curiosity get the better of you. 

The conversation on the other side of the door continued as your staring contest with the snake pressed on. “That girl is none of your concern. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll refrain from speaking to me about her.” 

“Ominis,” Aleister admonished with a rough voice. “Don’t you dare speak to your mother that way. Such hostility for some witch we know nothing about– perhaps it’s time to rid you of her influence once and for all. She’s proving to be a greater distraction than I had anticipated.”

Your eyes stayed glued to the snake’s, but your blood ran cold. 

“Over my dead body. If you so much as look at her–”

“That can be arranged. No son of mine will be consorting with some harlot of unknown blood purity. You’d be better off in the grave–” 

“Aleister!” Ominis’ mother yelled, silencing the back and forth bickering instantaneously, and you found the willpower to shift your feet sideways so you could better make a break for the front door.

There was another flick of the creature’s tongue as it blatantly scented your presence, but it made no move to inch closer to you. While you were grateful to still be breathing, you were also deeply, irrevocably afraid, and you came to the resolute decision that it was time to get the hell out of there. 

You moved out of the alcove slowly while maintaining what you deemed to be a safe enough distance from the snake, and all the while its thin, slitted pupils followed your movements. The blasted thing had an awareness to it that sent shivers down your spine, overwhelming you with the urge to run and get away, but vigilance was key. It wasn’t poised to strike, but that just made you even more nervous. 

Why wasn’t it attacking you? 

You adamantly refused to turn your back on the reptile, so you kept your front to it as you skirted the edge of the wall in the direction of the entrance. The discussion between Ominis and his parents was muffled now– their voices distinctly lower after his mother had cut off their argument with her biting tone– but you no longer cared to listen in. You craved safety, and nothing about the Gaunt household offered that. 

As you came upon the final stretch of the hallway, the snake flicked out its tongue once more before it was turning around to begin slithering towards you, and the remnants of your bravery evaporated. Fear overtook you, and the disillusionment charm that had shrouded you in transparency fell away as you pivoted and bolted around the corner. A chill-inducing hiss echoed from down the corridor– the first real sound you’d heard the animal make– and it only served to propel you towards the exit even faster.

The gargantuan double-doors swam into view, and just as you were reaching out to curl your fingers around the handle, a strong arm was coiling around your waist and hauling you backwards with enough force to give you whiplash. A startled, pained yelp was expelled from your lungs as you were slammed into the wall beside the doors, and your hip connected painfully with a tiny side table that careened against the floor. The vase that had been perched atop it shattered loudly, the ceramic pieces scattering across the tile, but you barely got the chance to gauge the extent of the damage before an unfamiliar face was blocking your sight. 

“Well well well, just look at what the cat dragged in. Get lost on your way home, doll?”  

It took a second for the statement to register, but once it had, you were craning your head back to glare boldly at the arrogant sounding man. His tawny eyes were narrowed down at you in amusement, his thick forearm pinned horizontally across your chest to restrain you firmly in place between himself and the wall, and the predatory look in his gaze had your stomach sinking into your feet. Everything about him screamed dangerous; from the unruly hair that curled around his temples to the animalistic way he bared his teeth at you– there wasn’t a doubt in your mind that the man would kill you if he deemed it acceptable. You cursed yourself silently for having put yourself in such a predicament in the first place. 

The imposing man cocked his head to the side coyly as he teased, “I hardly think I deserve such a cruel expression when you’re the one sleuthing around my house uninvited.”

Your mouth opened and shut a few times before you managed to stammer out, “I-I wasn’t–” 

“Don’t deny it,” he cut you off quickly. “What other reason would Ominis’ little plaything have for being here? I sincerely doubt the house-elves held the door open for you.” 

The term ‘plaything’ made you scowl, distracting you from the fact that the man even knew who you were, and you brazenly planted your hands against his firm chest to shove him away. It was like pushing against an immovable boulder. “I’m not his plaything, you prat–”

His free hand shot up in a flash to grip the sides of your jaw painfully, the look on his face darkening tenfold as he growled, “Careful now, I’d hate to lose my temper and take away my brother’s pet.” The fingers splayed under your face tightened a fraction as the crazed man angled your head to the side, shamelessly pressing his nose against the sensitive skin of your throat before he inhaled deeply. You shuddered uncomfortably at the contact. “Although I’m beginning to understand his infatuation a bit. You smell… different. What is that, exactly?” 

You had no fucking clue what he was referring to, nor did you care to find out. Each passing second brought the towering man closer into your personal space, and when one of his legs started to weasel its way in-between yours, you found yourself attempting to writhe out of his ironclad grip. “Let go of me,” you demanded in a low voice, doing your best to keep your words steady and hide the rampant unease in your tone. 

“Answer my question,” he countered easily. “Or I’ll snap your scrawny neck and be done with it. Makes no difference to me whether you live or die–” 

“If you have any desire to keep those slimy hands of yours, you’ll remove them this instant, Marvolo.” 

Your eyes widened at the sound of Ominis’ booming voice echoing throughout the foyer, which had the elder Gaunt smiling wickedly at you. He didn’t bother turning around, opting to stay right where he was and drop his fingers lower so he could squeeze around your windpipe, and you knew your choked gasp reached Ominis’ ears when he swore viciously and began walking closer. 

“Did I stutter? I said to unhand her, you cretin.”

Marvolo tutted disapprovingly, angling his head to the side so he could better keep track of Ominis coming up behind him, but he kept his eyes glued to yours all the while. “Come now, Ominis. You know how I feel about rats, and she was certainly scurrying around like one.”

You finally caught sight of the blond over Marvolo’s shoulder, and the look on his face was downright murderous. His dark, expressive brows were slammed down atop his milky-blue irises, and his pursed lips contorted into a scowl as he leveled his wand with the back of the taller man’s head. Ominis continued to side-step closer, moving with the prowess of a wolf stalking its prey, and to your immense satisfaction Marvolo broke eye contact with you to fix his gaze on his brother. 

Maybe you were imagining it, but you could have sworn he looked wary. 

“Last chance,” Ominis grit out through his clenched teeth. “Let her go. Or you’ll be nothing more than a stain on the floor.” 

The sharp laugh Marvolo let slip past his lips was positively wicked, and Ominis’ threat only served to motivate his brother into tightening his hand around your throat. Stars danced in the corners of your eyes then, and your own hand shot up to grip at the man’s thick wrist in an attempt to pry his fingers away from your windpipe. Panic flooded your brain, your racing heart drowning out the sound of Ominis’ angry voice as your pulse thundered in your ears. Fight or flight was probably an appropriate way to describe what you were feeling, but Marvolo was making both options impossible to act on. 

He wasn’t listening to Ominis. He probably never would. You would have to get yourself out of this mess on your own. 

Marvolo was barking out insults and threats over his shoulder, taunting Ominis into hurting him as he called his younger brother’s bluff. You were able to school your nerves long enough to focus and dig deep inside of yourself in search of the magic you so rarely touched. Isidora’s abilities were as much of an unknown now as they had been when you’d first absorbed them, but it was comparable to a living entity within you, and the phantom presence of her magic roared to life as you called upon it. 

You felt the strange, darker magic crackle over your skin, and Marvolo’s head whipped back around to stare at you with his pupils blown wide. Whatever he saw reflected in your eyes was enough to spark alarm in his heart, and a sick, twisted part of you relished in the apprehension that washed over his features. 

“What the fuck is that?” His hand around your throat loosened a fraction, but you weren’t about to let him walk away from this unscathed. The arm that had been hanging limp at your side stretched out until your palm was directly against his chest, and you couldn’t help but grimace when the red bolts of magic skirted across your forearm and blasted straight into his sternum. 

Marvolo went flying with a barely there grunt– his arms and legs flailing as he tried to find purchase– to no avail. He hit the stone floor and slid an additional ten feet or so until he came to rest just beside the corridor you’d run out of earlier, and your blood ran cold when an older, imposing man with salt-and-pepper hair stepped out from within the hallway. The look on his face was enough to spur you into action then, and you spared a quick, panicked glance at Ominis before you peeled off of the wall and threw the front door open. 

The cool night air was like a slap to your face, sobering you up instantaneously and driving you to pump your legs harder— faster— as you sprinted down the path that led to the dark forest surrounding the property. There was a bang from somewhere behind you and an animalistic sound you could only describe as a snarl, but you didn’t dare look back. Not when it could potentially cost you dearly. 

“Marvolo!” Ominis shouted, his voice angry and distant, but as the footsteps slapping against the gravel behind you got closer and closer, you realized it had to be him giving chase. Your heart hammered in your chest and in your ears– drowning out the sound of the encroaching danger hot on your heels– but you knew there would be no outrunning Marvolo. That crazed look in his eyes you’d seen earlier told you everything you needed to know; he would pursue you to the end of the damn country on foot if need be, and you had no intention of getting caught to find out what he had planned for you. 

Another growl sounded from over your shoulder, causing you to will your brain out of flight-mode and force your magic into action. It surged in your blood, coursing through your veins as you thought of home– of safety. 

One second you were running, and in the next you had apparated. Marvolo’s hand came down on empty air, his heels digging into the ground as he skidded to a stop and realized what had happened. You were already long gone, but his rage-filled roar shook the foundation of the manor, somehow echoing in your ears as you collapsed to your knees in the center of your living room. 

***

Your eyes stung as the steam from the bath wafted up into your face, your gaze never straying from the surface of the water. It had been nearly two hours since your narrow escape from Ominis’ childhood home and you had been in the tub for the majority of it– calming your frayed nerves and racing heart with deep breaths that did little to quell the anxiety that still riddled you. The hot water had been charmed back to scalding temperatures twice now, having gone cold multiple times already as you sat with your knees curled against your chest and replayed every second of your fortuitous run-in with Marvolo Gaunt. 

The ache in your hip throbbed to life every time you thought back to the primal glint that had flashed in Marvolo’s eyes as he’d thrown you into that table. What had started as a tender red spot on your side had transformed into a nasty, colossal bruise, stark and obvious against your bare skin. You hadn’t been able to so much as glance at the finger shaped bruises that wrapped around your neck without feeling nauseous. 

You’d made a mistake in following Ominis– that much was certain. 

The man in question had yet to return home, and as a result, the seemingly bottomless pit of unease in your chest only worsened. Part of you was ashamed for having left him alone to face his family’s scrutiny after literally breaking and entering, but you knew he wouldn’t have had it any other way. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that he would have found a way to get you out as quickly as possible if you hadn’t done so yourself. 

Still, you worried. 

Another fifteen minutes passed without a sound from within the house, and you dimly registered that the water had gone cold once more. You were half tempted to heat it up again and spend the remainder of the night turning yourself into a human-sized prune, but the ache in your back from staying curled up for so long diminished the idea quickly. Swiftly, you hoisted yourself out of the water, using the rim of the tub to steady yourself as you stood and began drying yourself off. Rivulets of water still cascaded down your body as you draped your robe over your shoulders, but you couldn’t muster up the energy to care. Fatigue overtook you as you combed through your hair with your fingers and padded into your bedroom, and the second you laid down atop the sheets, your eyes were drifting shut. 

You had no idea how long you slept before the distinct feeling of the mattress dipping roused you from your light slumber. The room was cloaked in darkness, save for the pulsing, red glow that emanated from Ominis’ wand as he hovered it over you, and you slowly started to blink the fog from your eyes. 

You had no clue how he realized you were awake, but his voice was unmistakably tight as he asked you, “Where are you hurt?” 

It took your brain a second to fully register the question, and you propped yourself up on your elbow as your eyes adjusted to the dim light and muttered, “What?” 

“You screamed,” he gritted through clenched teeth, and despite the low visibility in the room, you watched as his grip on his wand turned white knuckled. “I heard you earlier. You were in pain– I know it’s the truth– so tell me now, where are you hurt?” 

On cue, the bruise on your hip throbbed to life, and you swiftly placed your hand on top of it while silently cursing yourself for not having brewed any Wiggenweld potions after returning home. Evidently your mind had been too jumbled to do the most logical thing following the altercation. “It’s not that bad–” you started to say, but Ominis cut you off before you could downplay the injury any further. 

“Please,” he implored you, silencing you instantly with his pleading tone. “I’m trying to leave this up to you, but don’t think for a second I won’t figure it out for myself if you don’t tell me.”

Something about the desperate look on his face made you pause, and you took a moment to really take in the sight of him. He was pale– far paler than normal– and the way his brows furrowed told you that he was more anxious than you realized. His posture was still impeccable but less poised– closer to rigid. His shoulders barely moved, giving the illusion that he was hardly breathing, and you honestly weren’t sure he was at this point. 

In short, Ominis looked petrified. 

Your lips formed a hard line as your gaze traversed his stiff form, swallowing thickly before you slid your hand away from your hip to reveal the dark purple blotch that decorated your side. “My hip,” you murmured, afraid that if you spoke the truth too loudly, the tentative composure Ominis was keeping would vanish. 

The muscle in his jaw ticked, and the hand he didn’t have wrapped around the handle of his wand came to skim along your waist before hovering ever so slightly above the bruise. “Where else?” 

“This is the worst of the damage–”

“Where else?” His voice was deeper and rougher than you were accustomed to hearing, and the notable difference had your stomach flipping over on itself. It left you feeling queasy, and you honestly couldn’t tell if he was mad at you or at the situation as a whole. 

“…My neck,” you relented quietly, all too aware of the blatant anger that overtook Ominis’ face. “At least I returned the favor,” you added quickly with a half-smile, trying to lessen the severity of the claim. It was a failed attempt, however, seeing as the man averted his unseeing gaze to the floor and shook his head minutely. Dimly, you watched as he waved his wand over his free hand, and a small vial of Wiggenweld appeared in the center of his palm before he wordlessly handed it to you. Given his tense demeanor, you opted not to say anything as you took it and removed the cork, then drank down the earthy contents graciously. The relief was instantaneous, and through the darkness of the room you managed to catch sight of the bruise on your hip fading away entirely. 

Your tiny sigh of relief reached Ominis’ ears, and the tension in his shoulders seemed to dissipate– albeit barely. “You should never have gone there. Why would you set foot anywhere near that damnable house? Do you have any idea the kind of danger you put yourself in– the kind of danger that you’re still in?”

At that, you finally pushed yourself up so you were sitting with your back against the pillows, setting aside the empty vial so you could clasp Ominis’ free hand in yours. His skin was cool to the touch, and you noted the miniscule tremors that emanated from him as you squeezed the appendage to will his attention back to you. “I’m sorry, Ominis. I was worried about you– you were so upset before you left earlier and I was scared that your family would do something to you.” 

“Of course they want to do something to me. They’ve tried puppeting me into a version of myself they can tolerate for my entire life, but it’s for that very reason that I can handle them. I’ve told you what they’re like– how relentless they are– and still you went there.” His head finally snapped back in your direction, and the expression on his face was one you were certain you would never forget; it was a mask of desperation, fear, and most notably, rage. “You have no idea what you’ve done– what it means now that they’ve seen you and what you can do.”

You’d hadn’t really done much of anything, aside from blasting Marvolo across the foyer before running for your life. Still, his words kindled a spark of fear in your chest, and your hold on his hand turned loose and clammy. “What are you talking about?” 

“Before tonight, you were just an unknown witch I’d been… ‘cavorting’ with, in my father’s eyes. Easy to get rid of should the need arise. Until earlier, they didn’t believe you to be exceptionally powerful or particularly useful.”

The sudden dryness in your throat became painfully obvious. “Useful how?” 

“The Gaunt’s value power and authority over everything. Both things guarantee them the influence they need to further their own ends, and as unknown as your abilities are to them, they are undeniable. They’d be fools to ignore such a potent form of magic, and as much as I detest my family and their convoluted values, I’ll be the first to admit that they aren’t stupid. They will find a way to make that power their own– blood purity be damned– and stealing you away and marrying you off to my brother would be their most likely course of action.”

Ominis practically spat the word, his teeth bared and eyes narrowed as murderous thoughts of his brother flew through his mind. Your own head was reeling at the revelation, nausea crashing over you as you thought back to Marvolo and the sadistic way he’d smiled as he tried choking the life out of you. Someone like that wouldn’t– no, couldn’t have a caring bone in their body. But you also knew that someone of his caliber was bound to be determined to get what he wanted, and if Ominis believed that his family now sought to obtain you for their own ends, Marvolo would do everything in his power to make it happen. 

You had really, really fucked up. 

Somewhere in-between thinking of Ominis’ brother and the sickening idea of being kidnapped, your breathing had kicked up dramatically. You didn’t notice, but the blond man beside you certainly did. Ominis turned fully so his torso was angled towards you, feeling around the bed for your other hand before clasping your trembling limbs in his cooler ones, and your wide eyes flicked back up to meet his. “I won’t let them have you. Do you hear me? If they so much as glance at you, I’ll leave them wishing they had never set their sights on you.”

“You can’t know that,” you whispered, and your voice was unrecognizable to you. It was small and shaky, timid and so very, very afraid. “Marvolo is– he’s a beast. He’ll kill you in a heartbeat, Ominis. You’ll die and it will be all my fault. I-I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, this is all my fault–” 

In a flash, Ominis silenced you with a kiss. It took you by surprise, but it was far from an unwelcome one– especially when his wand bearing hand slid to the back of your neck to pull you impossibly closer towards him. You were pleased to discover that the skin there no longer throbbed with discomfort, the Wiggenweld potion he’d given you having done its job for all the bruises, not just the one on your hip. The revelation calmed you further, and before you knew it you were melting against the taller man, grabbing fistfulls of his shirt to cling to him desperately.

Ominis broke away momentarily to murmur against your parted lips, “No one will ever take you from me, you’re mine.” 

Despite the circumstances that led the two of you to this moment, you found yourself enraptured by the possessive declaration, and you couldn’t help but lean closer into the blond’s personal space until your hands were sandwiched between his chest and your breasts. Your mouth found his again, and you fervently bit at his bottom lip as you breathily whispered, “I’m yours, Ominis. Only yours.” 

Instantly, Ominis was pushing you back towards the headboard until your head knocked against the wooden frame, not once breaking the kiss as he positioned himself on top of you. His long legs came to cage your own against the mattress as he threw his wand to the edge of the bed, freeing both of his hands so he could plant them on either side of your face. Pulling away seemed physically difficult for him but he didn’t stray far, opting to rest his forehead against yours and fix his hazy eyes directly on yours. How he knew where to aim his heady stare, you didn’t know, but your toes curled at the ardent need for you that reflected in his blue irises. 

“Say it again,” he implored you with a voice like pure sin. 

“I’m yours,” you obliged him without missing a beat, and a sigh slipped past your lips as Ominis lowered his face to pepper featherlight kisses along your jaw and down the now unmarred column of your neck. Goosebumps broke out virtually all over your body when you felt one of his cool hands fall to the neckline of your robe, and as Ominis slowly tugged the material apart to expose your bare chest, he sank his teeth into the tender spot above your clavicle. The pain laced pleasure left you moaning his name in earnest, your voice steadily growing louder as his thumb came to graze over one of your nipples. 

You felt the pressure from his teeth lessen as you arched into his touch, followed by his kiss-swollen lips latching over the bite to suck lightly. “Again,” he breathed, continuing to work his searing brand into your flesh. 

There were too many ways to describe his actions; primal, dominant, and greedy, to name a few. Yet there was a softness to his words that left your heart aching within your chest– a tenderness that spoke volumes of the fear he’d felt upon realizing you had entered into that nest of vipers. He had nearly lost you tonight, and when the hand against your breast shifted down to curl around your waist, you realized he would never allow for it to happen again. 

“I’m here, Ominis, I’m right here,” you moaned, your reedy voice bouncing off the walls of the bedroom and causing the man above you to shudder. “I’m here and I’m yours.” 

Before long, Ominis was moving back into your line of sight to capture your lips in another searing kiss. The hand on your waist traversed the bare expanse of your lower stomach before reaching your aching center, and you mindlessly wound your arms around his neck to tug him closer, bucking your hips into his hand as he slid a slender finger through your folds. 

“Mine,” he growled against your parted lips, and your next breath caught in your throat as he tentatively pushed the digit inside your wet heat. Your contented sigh filtered through Ominis’ hypersensitive ears as he pressed his finger in all the way to the knuckle, and the arm he supported himself with trembled minutely as he fought to control his baser urges. 

After everything that had transpired tonight, he wanted nothing more than to bury himself deep in your cunt, desperate to feel you clamp down around his cock and suck him in further and further as he claimed you. He longed to mark you, brand you, consume you, in every possible way– his family’s wishes be damned. He would make you his and his alone. Should any of his kin so much as attempt to interject, he vowed he would defend you until his last breath– and then not even death would stop him. Ominis knew without a shadow of a doubt that he would defy the laws of nature if it meant keeping you safe from harm. 

As you continued to rock your hips in time with Ominis’ hand, your legs spread apart of their own accord, silently beckoning him closer as you shivered under his dutiful ministrations. Ominis felt the movement and groaned in blatant appreciation, taking advantage of the newfound space to siddle down the bed and kneel comfortably between your legs, and all the while his finger continued to pump in and out of your wet heat languidly. He bestowed another toe-curling kiss upon your lips before breaking away to slide fully down the mattress, your heart stuttering in your chest as he moved low enough to settle between your quivering thighs. It was impossible to overlook the animalistic expression on Ominis’ face as he gazed in your direction– following the sound of your barely there whimpers– and your blood ignited in your veins at the sight. 

All too eager, Ominis wasted little time in securing his grip around your waist with his free arm to better pull you harder onto his finger. The keening sound that slipped from your throat was replaced almost instantly by a guttural moan, drawn forth by the feeling of your lover’s lips latching around your clit to suck enthusiastically, and your head thunked against the headboard as wave after wave of sheer pleasure cascaded through you. 

Your thighs absentmindedly clenched on either side of Ominis’ head as he shamelessly pulled your bundle of nerves into his mouth, the action accompanied by wet, perverted sounds that had damn near all the blood in your body rushing to your cheeks. “Merlin, Ominis– fuck–” 

Beyond a throaty growl, he said nothing. He simply tightened his hold on your waist, his other hand angling itself so he could better curl the finger inside of you, the combined sensations making your head positively spin. Entirely at his mercy, your hands flew to his soft, blond hair as you effectively surrendered to the pure bliss he granted you. 

If you had been hot and wet already, Ominis’ mouth felt a thousand times more so as he torturously dragged his tongue up your cunt. He removed his finger from your clenching walls and replaced it with the wet muscle, wriggling it as much as he could as though he were desperate to lap up everything that escaped out of you. Your breathing hitched and your hips involuntarily bucked when his ministrations traveled higher towards your clit, and when he finally reached it, the tip of his tongue was slow and methodical as he pressed firm, torturous circles around the throbbing bundle.

Ordinarily, having Ominis appreciatively go down on you would have been the highlight of the night, but given his domineering persona at present, you knew you were just plain fucked now. 

“Ominis, please,” you managed to croak out. “I’m not going to last, I– ah!” You practically yelped when the tips of the man’s teeth raked along your inner thigh, nipping at the soft skin there hard enough for you to jolt. 

“Just relax and let me work,” he muttered coolly, pressing a featherlight kiss to the spot he’d bitten as he dragged his hands down your abdomen to squeeze your tensing thighs. 

Despite your best efforts, you were quickly losing your grip on anything other than the sensations Ominis was lavishing you with. You felt lightheaded as you attempted to release your tense muscles, struggling to do so as your lover devoured you with reckless abandon. His nose brushed against your clit as he slipped his tongue inside of you once more, the sound of his wet, suckling noises intermingling with your breathy whines as you felt your climax building higher and higher in your gut. You couldn’t tell if your arousal was stemming from how Ominis enthusiastically used his tongue, lips, and teeth on you or if it came from the demanding way he directed you, but you decided that you didn’t care; every feeling had burrowed deep inside of you and taken root in your mind. 

You wanted more– no, needed more. 

Head whacking back against the wooden bed frame, you needily tugged at the strands of his hair wrapped around your fingers as you pleaded, “Please, Ominis, I need you…” 

Those five words did more to stroke his ego than you would ever know. Right now, Ominis needed you to need him. He wanted you to succumb to his ministrations and bend to his will, all to parry the baseless demands of his deranged family. There wasn’t a chance in hell he would ever willingly hand you over to them– much less to Marvolo– and through your rapture-filled begging, he knew he had succeeded. 

You were wholly and unequivocally his. 

He pulled away for a moment to run his hands up your thighs, over your hips, then along the pebbled peaks of your breasts. The way you trembled at his touch told him everything he needed to know; you were hanging on by a thread, and he didn’t need to see you in order to know you looked absolutely wrecked. 

Unable to endure a second more of the teasing, Ominis raised himself up on his knees to remove his clothing. Swiftly and efficiently, he dexterously undid the catch of his trousers before shoving the constricting attire down his narrow hips. There was no stopping the sigh of relief that spilled through his clenched teeth as his cock finally sprung free– long, heavy, and leaking from the red, swollen tip. With his shirt disheveled, hair mussed, and pants haphazardly hanging below his hip bones, he was truly the picture of temptation. You stared up at him through hooded eyes as he stroked himself a few times, taking in the sight of your lover towering over you as you lay prone atop the sheets beneath him. 

Once again, Ominis’ uncanny ability to feel your eyes on him surprised you, and a cheshire-like smirk blossomed across his face as he asked, “Enjoying the view?” 

“More than you are, I’d wager,” you retorted, and Ominis scoffed as his smug expression turned into one of amused disbelief. That mouth of yours was bound to land you in trouble one of these days. 

“Smartass,” he murmured affectionately, keeping one hand on his shaft as the other reached down in search of your waist, squeezing the flesh there with a bruising strength that only served to intensify the ache between your legs. You aided him by wriggling down the sheets in order to press your ass against his bent knees, and Ominis lowered himself once more so the heavy weight of his cock rested against your spit-slick folds. It was hard for you to believe that the wild haired, smokey-eyed man kneeling between your legs was the same boy who had shyly walked with you to your classes all those years ago. Both of his hands pressed against your hips this time as he sat back on his heels, white teeth flashing as he aligned the head of his manhood against your entrance. 

“Are you ready for me, darling?” Ominis asked, as though you hadn’t been begging for this very outcome minutes before. 

“Yes,” you breathed out shakily, your hands twisting in the fabric of your long-abandoned bathrobe beneath you. “I’m–”

Despite his privileged upbringing, Ominis was a fan of the simple things in life. Good food, long walks during the warmer seasons, and the sound of your voice catching when he took you by surprise and slid inside you abruptly. In one fluid motion, he breached your walls, listening intently to your sharp intake of breath as he inched himself forward until his knees were under your rear and he’d bottomed out completely. The small whimper that slipped from your mouth had a deep, throaty chuckle escaping his, and his thumbs took to tracing encouraging circles against your hips as you clenched around him. 

“I’m sure you are,” he purred in an infuriatingly sexy tone while you struggled to regain control over your breathing. Instantly, the dim embers of lust within you were rekindled, every inch of your body warm and borderline electric. Your hips writhed in Ominis’ hold in an attempt to wriggle closer, the unyielding grip he had on you coupled with the hungry expression on his face almost enough to make you come undone then and there. 

“Fuck, Ominis–” your words were cut short by a stifled moan as the blond slowly withdrew himself, arching back until only the tip of his cock was inside you before slamming his hips forward in one quick, sharp thrust. Your hands flew to his clothed knees as you dug your nails into the rumpled material of his trousers, desperate to touch every inch of him that you could but struggling to catch your breath in the midst of his slow, methodical thrusts. 

Well, methodical at first. 

You could feel Ominis’ acute desire for you with every pump of his hips, and a groan snaked its way out of his chest as he freed one of his hands to reach down and thumb over your clit. You hissed triumphantly through your teeth as you saw his expression slowly shift into something needier, his thrusts becoming less precise and more visceral. With how tight he was gripping you, you were positive the healed bruise from earlier would be replaced by long, finger shaped stripes, but you didn’t care. If it was Ominis, it was fine. If it was him claiming you, branding you, consuming you, it was more than fine. 

The blue-eyed incubus above you seemed to think similarly, if the low rumble in his chest was anything to go by. He was absolutely lost in the euphoria that came with being encased in your pulsing, tight heat, causing him to abandon his pretenses of control and give into his want for you with gusto. The hand he had on your sensitive bundle of nerves returned to grasp your waist, and even elevated as he was, he still had to thrust down into you– shaking the headboard with every plunge as he effectively fucked you into the mattress. 

The distinction was clear and evident in your mind as your legs came to wind around Ominis’ waist; the two of you had obviously been intimate before, and you had definitely made love before, but you had never been so carnally fucked like this a day in your life. It was hard to recall if Ominis had ever ravished you with such need in every stroke, enough so that you found yourself unable to control your shaking breaths or the volume of your voice. It was enrapturing– getting caught up in the way he staked his claim on you– so intent on fucking himself harder and deeper into you that his own husky murmurs of your name fell from his lips like a mantra. 

Your inability to fight your moans and curses and feverish pleas for more was what Ominis lived for. The blond craved the sound of your voice like a drug, and he drew unparalleled strength from your vocal satisfaction. Maybe it had more to do with the events of the night than anything else, but hearing you cry his name and feeling you claw at the tops of his thighs made his chest swell with possessive affection, thrilled to hear you unwittingly proclaim that you were in fact his. No one else would ever have you– no one else would ever find themselves lucky enough to have you reduced to such a state beneath them other than him. 

“M-More,” you practically sobbed the request as Ominis gripped your hips tighter, dimly registering the thundering crack of the headboard banging against the wall. “More– please– I’m s-so close–”

You asked for it with each breath expelled from your lungs, and Ominis would graciously give it to you. He couldn’t have refused you any longer if he wanted to. “You want to come, darling?” He panted, receiving only whimpering nods in return. “Ask.” 

“P-Please, please let me come, I can’t–” you gasped, squeezing your eyes shut as your teeth clenched together hard enough to make your jaw pop. You teetered on the brink of oblivion, waiting only on Ominis’ say-so to fall over the edge which seemed to loom so, so close. 

“Beg,” Ominis rasped thickly, his fingers tightening and digging into the skin of your hips as he bucked harder against your ass. “Beg for it– beg for me to let you come.” 

You couldn’t even find the brainpower to realize he was demanding to hear you say it to fuel his unrepentant hold on you. The taunting, the pleasure laced brutality– it was all to assuage the bitter anger that had coursed through his veins upon hearing his family refer to you as tradeable cattle. Later on, he would be collected enough to reassure you that you were your own person, free to make your own decisions and go wherever your heart desired. 

Right now though, his baser urges had won out, and he needed to hear you say it. 

Your head slammed into the pillows as your back arched off the mattress, doing your best to shut out the mounting pleasure that threatened to break through your crumbling resolve. “Please, Ominis! Please let me–” you hiccuped around another gasp, the ache in your gut bordering on unbearable. “L-Let me… let me…”

One of his hands released your waist to feel up your torso and curl around the back of your neck, lifting your head off of the pillow so your eyes were on him as he uttered five words that struck something deep inside of you. 

“Then come for me, love.” 

Your breaking point smacked into you hard and fast, leaving you equally breathless and brainless as your mouth fell open around a long, drawn out cry of Ominis’ name. Your climax ripped through you ferociously, your vision flashing white and your muscles tensing for a moment of near perfect silence as your lover continued to thrust in and out of you with unwavering focus. Even after you’d collapsed back against the sheets and gone limp in his arms, Ominis continued to chase his own finish, balancing precariously over you on his elbows and burying his face in the crook of your neck to muffle the shaky groans he failed to bite back. 

Maybe you were imagining it, but you could have sworn he continued to murmur quiet declarations against your skin that sounded a lot like, “Mine.” 

Before long, Ominis was following you over the edge with a throaty purr that slithered out of his throat. His arms trembled on either side of your head, his hands gathering fistfuls of the pillows as he buried himself completely inside of you with one final plunge of his hips. You heard the blond moan hoarsely in your ear as he spilled into you, grinding against your ass to milk every last drop of his seed from his twitching member, and when he mouthed wetly against the sweat-slick column of throat before biting down, all you could focus on was the warmth that filled you as you quivered under him. 

After a few moments of the two of you panting softly, you lifted your hands to Ominis’ clothed back in a bid to usher him to the side. He tensed, however, and you paused as he wedged one of his arms under your back to hold you flush to him as he continued to re-center himself. “Not yet,” you heard him grumble into the hollow of your throat. “Not yet… give me a second.” 

“…Alright,” you relented quickly, only mildly concerned as you wrapped your arms around his slender shoulders. With your fingers tracing lazy shapes against his clothed back, you allowed yourself to enjoy the feeling of Ominis’ weight pressing down on you, his gentle exhales fanning against your clammy skin, and the steady rhythm of his heart beating against your sternum. 

Given the severity of what had happened at his family’s house, you weren’t sure the two of you would ever get another moment like this again. So, you held on tightly to him in the hopes that the night would last just a little bit longer. 

The two of you stayed like that for what seemed like hours but realistically could only have been a few minutes, and shortly after Ominis began peppering kisses up your throat and along your jaw, your eyes drifted shut as you dozed off once more. When you woke the following morning and found yourself tucked in beneath the sheets, you propped yourself up on your elbow to glance around the otherwise empty room, noting immediately that Ominis was nowhere to be found. 

In a panicked flurry of movement, you threw off the blankets and were still tying your robe around your waist as you hurriedly shuffled down the hallway. Your dread was smothered in the next instant by overwhelming ease as you rounded the corner to find Ominis in the kitchen, gripping the countertop and working a muscle in his jaw while he hovered his wand over a letter that looked eerily similar to the one he’d received just a day ago. 

Even though he could hear you approaching, he said nothing as you padded across the room to stand behind him, coiling your arms around his waist to press your front against his back. A shaky sigh escaped him, and you stared at the wall as you contemplated your words before deciding on, “What are you reading?” 

A pause, “A formal summons for you, inviting you to meet my family officially.” 

Your heart fell into your stomach, arms tightening around the taller man a fraction as you pursed your lips in blatant distaste. “We won’t go,” you announced, and Ominis shifted in your embrace so he could wrap his arms around you to hug you back with a firmness that spoke volumes of his agreement. 

“We won’t,” he said. “But we can’t stay here, either. Not anymore.” 

“I know.” 

He buried his chin in the mess of hair atop your head, shamelessly inhaling your scent before he told you, “We have to leave– go somewhere far away– and we can’t tell anyone.” 

“I know.” 

The way his nimble fingers gripped the back of your robe told you of just how conflicted he was to ask this of you– to uproot your shared lives here to flee the meddling of his family. His voice was laced with remorse as he asked, “And you’re okay with that? Truly?”

“I am,” and you really were. There wasn’t a lick of hesitation in your voice– not a shred of apprehension hidden in your tone at the prospect of packing up and running as far from here as humanly possible. “So long as we’re together, I am.” 

Ominis skimmed his hands up your back to cup your cheeks, angling your head up at him so he could kiss you fully, and you returned the gesture with equal fervor. As long as he was with you, you knew you could do anything. With Ominis by your side, you would fight tooth and nail against every hellish creature or person in existence to ensure your future together. 

Wherever the two of you ended up, you already knew that your home wouldn’t just be some place. It would always be him.

[thatblvckboyy]

Demon Hyunjin x curious male reader

From the time of Anno Domini

Summoning a demon what exactly could go wrong

Spell reference from chillin adventures of Sabrina

Y'all I'm thinking about updating this with the sunghoon one

You heard the scariest stories, the warnings they gave you and all the other rumors but you got too far to go back. Growing up you were always interested in the supernatural and spirituality and when you got older you decided to invest so much time in spirituality and witch magic to the point that you learned to do hexes , manifest stuff, speak with spirits and ghosts. There was a rumor that was going around your town that whoever would go in the mines would never come out.but it was just a silly rumor to scare children until an old lady told you the real reason people disappear in the mines is because of an evil insatiable spirit that was trapped there by old witches that passed by the town, to be specific it was trapped in a time loop.

Curiosity got the best of you, you wanted to know more,What could you do..... You were just a curious boy, and Halloween was coming up so it was just perfect timing

October 31st.You got your materials ready;candles, salt to seal the spirit , chalk and a spell book the Weird old lady gave you for some reason.At 2:30 you started to make your way to the mines with a flash light of course. Navigating an old mine was hard because people never bothered operating in it for years.After struggling it navigate the mine you finally got to an opening with chains on the floor and blood smeared on the walls. You started setting up your material for the summoning spell after that you grabbed the spell book and started looking for a spell which was the hard part cause they weren't sure which spell was the correct one cause you never really worked with a spell book

You then opened to a page and immediately your instinct told you this was it, you weren't sure if it was the correct one but it was worth the try

"Here I stand humble beseecher,I summon thee--" you didn't even get halfway through the spell but it was getting all cold and chilly

"I summon thee and grant thee pass into this unholy kingdom, I am the gate for you who is lost and forsaken, bestow your gaze on this land, abandon all hope for yee who sets eye on you I bring you back from the time of Anno domini"

[lili863]

Hunted (pt 2)

(Part 3 coming)

An: YALL! THIS IS LONG AF. I got a bit carried away and had to make a part 3 Im sorry! It was like 10 pages, and I had to cut it short. Anyway, I hope yall enjoy. Part 3 is coming today or tmr!

Warning: None. Well maybe some mature language.

The young blonde headed slytherin stood there listening your hurried footsteps walk out of the library.

His eyes followed the wisps of your magic floating behind you before they disappeared and left traces in your wake.

He expressed his amusement with a scoff before swiping his hands over his face with a sigh and haunched over the table.

"Fuck..."

Did he he go too far?

Your whimpers rung in his ears, causing the alabaster-skinned male to fist his hands against the table, reprimanding himself for acting so distastefully. His obsession with you was hard enough to suppress every day and now that he had a taste of you, he was helpless.

He had never felt this intensely obsessed with any of the girls he had met before, whether at Hogwarts or through introductions by his parents. It's possible that you were not aware of his feelings until now, and he couldn't help but wonder what your thoughts were on the matter. Did you reciprocate his feelings? Or were you simply being polite and didn’t want to hurt him?

Ominis reminisced the moment when you wrapped your arms around his neck and whispered his name in a sultry voice. How absoulutly sweet you sounded. Your response was promising, and he couldn’t help but feel a sense of hope. Although he wasn’t certain if you felt the same way about him, it gave him the courage to pursue his feelings for you by agreeing to this challenge.

A challenge he knew he would win.

In some aspects of his life, Ominis was willing to use any means necessary to obtain what he desired, and you were undoubtedly at the top of that list

His nimble fingers reached up to the button of his cloak before unclasping it throwing it onto the nearby chair. Rolling up his sleeves and adjusting his tie, he knew that finding you would require some effort, even though he was skilled at tracking. He recognized that someone like you should not be underestimated.

The fair skinned male began walking, wand in hand as his boots clacked against the marble floors of the grands hall.

His eyes followed the various traces of magic some of which he recognized. Until his eyes caught the unique signature that was yours. Though it was faint, it stood out to him among everything else he observed.

With a flick of his wand, Ominis effortlessly casted an amplifying spell, creating a trail right to where you were in the castle.

"And there are you are..." the fair skinned male muttered with a smirk.

The complex trail that only he could sense led up the stairs all the way to the top. He deduced that you were probably heading up to the astronomy tower, likely in an attempt to get as far away from him as possible.

Regrettably for you, you wouldn't be able to escape very far. Ominis had no patience to let this game go on for too long. At present, all he desired was to capture you and lock you away with him in the darkest corner of the castle where no one could see you, hear you, or save you.

The possessive though had Ominis pausing in his steps and closing his eyes before rolling his head back with a deep sigh to calm his raging heart beat and control the dark thoughts creeping up in his mind. His wand twirled in his hand before his knuckles clenched around it in an iron-like grip.

He couldnt stop the quick flashes that struck through his mind, imgagining the enticing feel of gripping the smooth flesh of your plump thighs or kissing the delicate skin on your neck.

Or feel the violent racks of your body as he fucked your soaking pussy senseless.

Ominis groaned lowly pinching the bridge of nose in frustration, grateful no one could read his mind. The lewd thoughts struck him every now and then that had him running for the restroom to fix the problem they caused.

And it was all because of you.

Looking back down Ominis fixed his stormy gaze to the trail of your magical essence beforing muttering "Fuck it".

He refused to let you leave him like this any longer.

'Catch me if you can Gaunt'

Your sweet voice was the most tempting invitation Ominis had ever gotten.

And it was one he would gladly accept.

< ---------------------- >

You ushed out of the library quickly feeling breathless and disoriented as if someone had knocked the wind out of you. The memories of your encounter with Ominis kept replaying in your mind like a broken record, making it hard to focus. Thebconstrast of his gentle kisses and jolting bites sent warmth radiating down to your stomach. The way you had almost lost yourself in his embrace had you shyly hide your face behind your dark locks.

Despite your efforts to resist, at that moment, he held all the power over you. And you would be lying if you said you didn’t savor every moment of it.

You quickened your pace to move ahead quickly, noticing a few students lingering in the corners, perhaps studying or socializing one last time before retiring for the night. Your gaze then shifted to the right, where a group of students were chatting softly. However, as some of them turned to look at you, you realized how disheveled you must have appeared.

Not wanting to attract any unnecessary attention you quickly attempted to compose yourself self consciously.

To be frank, this was not how you planned your evening would go at all . You were just surprised Ominis accepted your challenge and agreed to venture out past curfew, knowing the risks involved. This behavior was unlike him, as he usually cautioned against this kind of recklessness.

However, despite your embarrassment and mixed feelings, you couldn't deny a sense of anticipation. Deep down, you were eager to witness Ominis' abilities firsthand, and had offered the challenge recklessly to provoke him without expecting him to accept.

As you ascended the stairs, you reached the portrait of the man who could often be heard playing his guitar throughout the day. However, his melodies did nothing to soothe you as you turned the corner and began to climb another flight of stairs.

" I give you my word'

His alluring promise sent shivers down your spine as you sighed in defeat and rubbed your arms to calm the bothersome bumps.The things this man did to just by uttering those simple words was a wonder. By now you realized that his words weren’t just a challenge, but also carried a hidden promise, one that you had been waiting to hear from him for years.

And Ominis seemed to have made sure you understood the implication very well. As you thought about it, you began to question if it was a good idea to be engaging like this so late in the castle where anything could happen.

Not to mention, with Ominis of all people.

Harmless was the word people often associated him with. But you knew very well that couldn't be farther from truth.

Especially at times, when you found it quite unsettling that Ominis could move around without making a sound despite being blind. His quiet steps and nimble movements were quite impressive and made you feel like a klutz in comparison.

Sebastian had mentioned on several occasions feeling frightened after glimpsing a tall, pale figure lurking in the shadows of the undercroft or elsewhere in the castle, moving with an eerie silence. And now the idea of you being pursued through the dark hallways by this figure in question was stirring up an emotion within you that you didn't experience frequently especially when it came to him.

Fear.

Since fifth year, Ominis Gaunt had been your crush. Initially, you thought it was just a passing phase, and you allowed yourself to entertain the thought for a while, as you battled against Ranrok and his followers. However, to your surprise, your feelings for Ominis did not fade away, and now, after two years, he was all you could think of. You spent time with him, sharing meals, studying together, and even sharing your aspirations, but it only made you fall deeper into the rabbit hole of your infatuation.

Initially, your interactions with Ominis were just brief glances and casual touches. What drew you to him was the way he respected and valued your opinions, and how he genuinely cared for your well-being. You admired his integrity and morals, which he kept intact despite coming from a family that prioritized power, wealth, and cruelty. Gradually, you found yourself constantly wondering if he was taking care of himself, getting enough rest, and was happy. Now, two years later, even Sebastian felt sympathy for you.

You had to quite literally threaten him to keep his mouth shut and not go prattle to Ominis about this.

You had never been able to muster the courage to confess your feelings to Ominis. How could you after building such a close friendship with him for two years? You were ready to take the next step, but was he? What if he didn’t reciprocate your feelings? What if it ruined your friendship forever? These fears had held you back for as long as you could remember, until now.

You raised your shaky hands to touch your sensitive neck, wincing at the spot where he had bitten you. You cautiously looked around, grateful that there weren’t many students around to see what was probably the most visible hickey in the world.

You realized to yourself what you needed the most right now.

A confession. Despite what happened. Otherwise, you can't bring yourself to believe it he had feelings for you. You have always been a bit of a romantic. A little pathetic, really. But you couldn't bring yourself to be together with a man, one whom you grew closer to more than anyone in your life - get away with doing this to you without a confession. A commitment.

Not that you thought Ominis was that kind of guy. But you wanted to wait. You wanted to see if he truly wanted to take this relationship to the next level. Perhaps....this is his chance. And he knows it. He just needed to find you. And tell you. Besides, if Ominis truly rises to this challenge, you weren't going to hold back anymore.

After thinking for a while, you took a deep breath moving quietly up the stairs, being cautious and keeping your senses sharp in case the caretaker were still wandering around. The candles above you flickered across the hall casting a tired and hazy ambience.

Your only plan here was to get away from Ominis as far as you could, reckoning the sightless slytherin would have trouble catching up.

Even if he could track you by mysterious means as stated by Sebastian, surely it would take him time. Perhaps you should stall for the time by reaching the farthest places you could in this castle. Astronomy tower maybe? The fact that Ominis's abilities remained a mystery to you only added to the uncertainty of where you should go.

You couldn’t help but let out a quiet laugh at the irony of the situation. If it were a sighted person trying to find you, it would have been an easy game. But here you were at a complete loss over the potential fact that a blind guy could seek you out better than anyone else.

You approached another staircase, feeling the aching burn radiate down your calfs.

“For goodness sake… these stairs are be the death of me,” you muttered under your breath. Soon enough you made your way up the tower and knew you had a few more flights to climb before reaching the top. As you turned the corner, you could hear voices coming from just ahead of you.

"Paxton, thats enough, stop fooling around"!

You screeched to a halt and froze in your spot.

"What? Its not like anyones here, dont be so uptight"

Peeking from the corner you saw your worse fears come true.

Perfects.

"Just loosen up a little"

You furrowed your brow in focus, studying the two prefects before eventually fixing your gaze on the male seventh-year.

Alexander Paxton.

A 7th year slytherin whose mere presence gave you the ick.

That fraud would constantly call you out in public, opting to choose the title the school unofficially bestowed you with after taking down Ranrok in your fifth year, which did nothing but embaress in public.

The shady antics of his contstantly reminded you of rookwood.

There seemed to be no shortage of people like him in the world, and it was disheartening to see more and more of them appear. Despite your victory over Rookwood, individuals like Paxton seemed to diminish the significance of your accomplishment.

Ominis on the other hand loathed him. Rightfully so. And while you tried to be nice to his obvious flattery, Ominis would always find you and drag you away after exchanging some unpleasant words with the boy.

After a while even you couldnt handle it anymore.

The unidentified female prefect sat on the staircase with a look of concern, the location where you had intended to run to, while Paxton stood in front of her.

You frantically scanned the area, searching for an alternative route to avoid going back down the stairs, but your options were limited, and the stairs remained the most efficient path to your destination.

Whipping out his wand, Paxton suddenly casted levioso on the girls glasses, raising it up in the air with a playful grin before the girl jumped up with a gasp.

"Hey"! She yelled

"Paxton, give me my glasses back, this is not funny"!

He chuckled in response and kept stepping away from her as she jumped to grab them. He only continued to raise them higher as you witnessed the scene quietly.

"Oh come on Bailey, you could do better then that"

The girl named Bailey huffed frustrated before giving chase to the boy in an attempt to get her glasses back.

You noticed them stepping out into the hallway to the right until they were fully out of sight.

Now was your chance!

Not wanting to dither, you jumped up from your crouching postion and bolted towards stairs when your sweaty hands suddenly lost grip of your wand.

The wood swiftly slipped out of your hand and fell to the floor with a thud loud enough to echo through the room.

Your steps faltered at you looked back at the wood in trepidation before quickly glancing down the hallway.

"What was that?" Paxton exclaims in the distance.

Shit.

With seconds to spare, you dived for your wand and ran behind the staircase in the corner.

'Damn it! You only had one job, that was your chance '!

You felt bitter disappointment before worry slowly crept in at the sound of the prefects running across the hallway. You fumbled with your wand and cast a disillusionment spell on yourself

You observe the two prefects hurrying to the scene and looking around catiously

"You dont think it could have been a student right"? You hear the girl ask.

The dark haired male glanced around and shook his head rather confidently.

"If it is, I swear I'll catch them and drag their arse straight back to Professor Sharp."

Paxton's insipid voice made your eyes roll so far back into your head you almost fell off balance.

What a tool.

You questioned why up until this point you never once pointed your wand at him and taught him a lesson.

Thanks to the dim lighting, your corner was pretty dark and effectively hid your disillusionement well.

"Shouldn't we look around?"

You became alert and stood up straight, attempting to blend into the wall behind you, upon hearing the girl's suggestion.

Paxton scoffed at the question.

"Bailey, I assure l would know. My abilities have been praised even by Professor Sharp. Nothing can escape my notice. "

Your hands flew to your mouth to suppress a snort at his absurd lies. You knew fully well Sharp despises him, and he wouldn't know it even if Sharp gave him detention to his face 4 times a week. The girl, on the other hand, was pretty naive since she seemed to believe everything he was saying. She nodded at his reassurance and reached for her glasses in his hands.

"Okay, if you could please-"

He cut her response off by dodging her hands to put the glasses on himself. It looked like Paxton hadn't had his fill of being an arse yet. With the glasses on, the dark-haired male began to stumble with a shocked face.

He looked like an idiot, but you didnt have the luxury of telling that to his face right now.

"Bloody hell! How can you see in these?! Are you sure your not blind"?

You frowned at his comment, observing the girl obviously blushing in embarrassment, a tinge of annyance in her face.

"Paxton..please. Just give me back my glasses. I need them" the girl pleaded in defeat.

The male only clicked his tongue in annoyance at her response. "Relax, Bailey. Its not like I am gonna break them. You'd probably be useless without them and we cant have that can we"?

You gaped at the male and his disgraceful behavior. The demure girl only stood there and took it as if she was used to these comments already.

"You'd probably get right along with that Blind sytherin kid"

"You mean Ominis Gaunt"? The girl timidly asked.

Your breath hitched.

Paxton face soured at the mention of his name. "Yeah. That weird kid with the foggy eyes and a sharp tongue" He took off the glasses and toyed with it still not giving it back to her. "Hes quite the annoying git, if I say so myself"

Your face darkened upon hearing his remark. You always found that you had absolutely no tolerance when it came to people's crude jokes and comments about Ominis.

Unlike Ominis you never had the paitence to deal with it without breaking a nose or two, so the struggle to contain yourself was real.

Bailey frowned, seemly uncomfortable.

"He's always trying to hang around Y/N"

Your furrowed eyebrows and listen attentively at the mention of your name.

Paxton's eyes observed the girl from where you stood before a mischievous grin appeared on his face.

"As her boyfirend it just bothers me too much you know"

You let those words sink in for a few seconds before your face fell and your jaw dropped.

Did you hear that right?!

"Y/N is your girlfirend"?! Bailey excliamed as if she couldnt believe it herself.

Paxton grin widened at her reaction, seemly enjoying the attention his statement gave.

"Why yes she is. Though I would appreciate if you could keep it a secret. She's a bit popular in this school so all she wants is to keep things a bit quiet"

You blinked rapidly in shock, wondering if you had temporary amnesia or something, because you couldn’t recall ever having a boyfriend, let alone agreeing to court this incompetent guy.”

Your hand squeezed your wand until your knuckles turned white.

"...She wants to..keep things quiet? Does anyone besides me know? What about her firends Sebastian and Ominis? They were ok with it"? Bailey's vaild question had even you perked up ready for the answer.

But Paxton face darkened at her hesitance to believe him. He stepped forward and flung the glasses back to the girl, which she just barely caught with a yelp.

"Why does that matter" his tone dropped, and suddenly, the tension in the air thickened.

Bailey immediately noticed the change in behavior before instinctively stepping back. "No! No. I just - I said that because I thought-"

"You thought what?" he spat, interrupting the poor girl.

Ominis was right. You should have never given him the time of day. Becauee now the poor boy's having deranged delusions and taking it out in innocent girls like her.

Thats it.

As much as you wanted to finish this game with Ominis, you couldn't hold back anymore. To hell with the detention you would get, it would be well worth it to see this wanker on his knees with begging for mercy.

Before you could step out from the shadows, a third voice suddenly rang throughout the room, stopping you in your tracks.

"That's the most ludicrous lie I've ever heard"

Your heart dropped to stomach. The prefects quickly turned around to face the voice with alarm.

No way....

A tall, pale figure approach the prefects. The suddenness of his appearance seemed to catch both you and the prefects off guard.

A small smirk pulled at the young man's face before his smooth voice pulled you back from the shock "Hello Paxton".

The male prefect scowled at the figure before he slowly approached him.

"Well, well look who it is. Your certainly a sight for a sore eyes Gaunt" .

You felt a panic quickly set in.

'How did he find you'?! 'How was he here'?!

Ominis stood in front of the boy amused, his small smile never reaching his eyes, "Fortunately I can't say the same"

Bailry immediately interjected after a couple of moments. "You shouldn't be here, Gaunt. It's past curefew. I am going to have to take you in to Professor Sharp-"

Suddenly, Paxton finger flew to her face, a gesture that told her to close her mouth with balant disrespect.

"Let me handle this prick," Paxton commaned, still keeping his eyes on the slytherin.

Bailey look of shock quickly dissipated to one of bitterness, which Paxton didn't bother to care for as he stood right in front of your nightmare.

Thr girl quickly turned around and walked away leaving only you three in this hallway.

You couldn't even have the time to sympathise with the young girl with he stood across the room casting a menacing presence.

Ominis Gaunt. The blind boy, really did track you down all the way across the castle in record speed. And you didn't have clue in how he did it as you were overcome with curiosity. If Ominis had truly found you by some means, it meant he was not only an exceptionally skilled wizard but also not as blind as many people believed.

As of this moment, there wasn't much you could do. You couldn't let the Paxton find you here and Ominis..well, you didn't know what he had planned.

For all you know he could be dragged to Professor Sharp right now for staying out past curfew.

"Don't try to act superior, Gaunt. Just remember that your name holds no significance to me." The dark-haired boy spat.

Ominis on the other hand stood right in front of him, a few inches taller then the prefect. His eyesbrows furrowed at Paxton comment with a scoff.

"My name shouldn't even be heard from your mouth, Paxton. You sully it". His biting tone had the prefect's face harden before he stepped in closer as a means to intimidate.

The young Gaunt it seemed would have none of it, though.

" I didn’t expect you to sink any lower, but you’ve managed to surpass my expectations. What makes you think you can claim Y/N as your own? Wake up, Paxton" Ominis emphasized with sudden snap of his fingers making the caught off gaurd prefect flinch.

"I'm afraid your delusions have crossed a boundary which I have not the slightest bit of tolerance for"

Ominis’ biting remarks penetrated through the façade of the prefect’s conceit, leaving him visibly humiliated.

" The only delusional one here is gaunt. Do you really think Y/N would rather go for a useless blind-"

Your body lurched foward violently determined to put the dereanged jerk back in his place when suddenly Ominis wand flew to Paxton's throat quicker than you could blink.

Paxton's body recoiled in response to the sudden movement, and his previously tough expression was quickly replaced with one of fear.

If looks could kill, the young prefect would have been lifeless at this point. The menacing look on Ominis face sent even you taking a step back before a venomous tone seeped out the gaunt's lips.

"Y/N is not yours to speak of, name of, or to even think of"

His head ducked lower to reach the Prefect ears before he continued "And if I ever catch you spreading such atrocious lies again, then I will happily make sure that you and your entire family suffer a fate worse than death. I will ensure that your name is forgotten, your legacy is tarnished, and your very existence is erased from the face of this earth and buried 6 feet deep before her name even escapes your lips again. You've exhausted my paitence, but know that even in this moment, as I endure your insufferable idiocy, this is me being generous. "

Ominis was at this breaking point with the irritating prefect. If he knew you weren't in the room with them at this moment, he wouldn't have hesitated breaking every bone in his body and nail him to the wall for every person to witness in the morning. The darkness within Ominis tempted him to act on his violent impulses, but he managed to reign in his emotions with the shred of self-control that he desperately clung to.

The way Paxton's face dropped was momentous before it morphed to one of horror at the Gaunt's terrifying threat.

"Y-you can't do this?! I- I am a prefect!" The crack in Paxton's stuttering tone caused Ominis to scoff, thoroughly entertained by how easily the facade of bravado and intimidation had crumbled.

'At least the twat got the message' Ominis thought. He was ready to retort to Paxton’s fragile threat, when suddenly the wisps of your magical aura caught his senses, whisking him away from this irritating encounter. The darkness within him immediately replaced by an intense desire to seek you out.

The traces were still fresh after you casted that disillusionement spell.

Ominis didnt even need to amplify it after his senses practically vibrated afterwards, which was actually what led the young Gaunt right to where you were unbeknownst to you.

His sharp gaze darted back and forth and started following the traces across the room. At that moment, all that mattered to him was finding you and getting you out of there.

The harsh words that escaped the young gaunts lips left you still, almost feeling bad for paxton before you caught his sudden distraction from the conversation. His ghostly eyes scanned every inch of the room with a calculating gaze.

'What were his eyes following..'?

You had already noticed this behavior in him before, back in the library. It was peculiar, the way he seemed to focus intently on your surroundings, as if he could discern something that you couldn't. It was obvious that his gaze was purposeful, but you were oblivious at what he was looking at.

Ominis sensed you were close as the little clusters of your magic became bigger and brighter.

Your quivering hands were placed over your chest, and you couldn't determine if it was a feeble effort to mask the sound of your fast-pounding heart or to ease the nervousness growing inside you.

Somehow, his gaze that was getting closer and closer to where you stood in your corner was way too eerie for your liking.

You were hesitant to acknowledge the possibility, considering how improbable it was, but it appeared as though he was actively seeking you out. It was as if he was already aware of your presence.

His piercing eyes finally zeroed in to where you stood with bated breath. And now, in amazment, you found yourself looking directly at the blind slytherin. You audibly gulped with wide eyes before your breathless state compelled you to take a deep breath.

'No...it cant be'..

Ominis tilted his head, catching the faint sounds with his unnaturally sharp hearing. A vicious smirk twisted his lips, sending shivers down your spine.

You let out a sudden gasp, your back pressing against the wall as if trying to melt into it, desperate to silence any other sounds that may give you away. Your stomach churned with fear, and yet, a sickening warmth spread through your body, betraying the inexplicable terror that had taken hold of you."

The realization hit you like a ton of bricks - Ominis had found you. And what’s more, he had managed to do so with a place where even those with normal sight would not have been able to. A rush of fear and desire coursed through your body, causing you to tightly clench your legs together as a pool of heat gathered between them. His gaze was like a searing brand on your skin, making you feel exposed and helpless. And then, with a barely perceptible nod of his head, Ominis confirmed that he knew you could see him.

At that moment, you were nothing more than prey to him, and he was reveling in every moment of it, right in front of a prefect who was completely unaware of what was happening.

Was he being serious? Was he trying to get both you caught?!

Ominis on the other hand could not have been more amused. You were probably shocked and he fought to contain the laugh brewing at the back of his throat. If only

You raised your wand quickly, sending a small, barely noticeable basic cast behind the perfect at one of the many non sentient paintings decorating this hall, causing tumble and shatter on the ground with a subtle noise.

Paxton jolted at the upon hearing the thunderous sound and quickly snapped his head to your right cursing under his breath.

Ominis flinched, momentarily stunned by your audacity.. His eyes found your presence again and shot a glare, slightly shaking his head as a warning to stop. He instantly understood what you were trying to do.

'Clever little witch...."

You, on the other hand, only took that as a cue to continue.

You refused to give Ominis the satisfaction of thinking he had the upper hand.The game was still on. After all he hadn't caught you yet. This wasn't a playful game of hide and seek anymore. You and Ominis both knew that all too well. But what you didn't expect was the level of intensity he was bringing to the hunt. Nevertheless, you were determined to put up a fight and not go down without a struggle.

Ominis sensed your defiance. At this point in the relationship he could read like a book through your actions alone.

As Paxton looked away, distracted by the course of events, Ominis deftly flicked his fingers. In a split second, your wand was ripped out of your hand and grasped by Ominis mid-air before he concealed it behind his back. You stood there, dumbfounded, unsure whether to be impressed or irritated by his impeccable mastery of the Accio charm that had left you defenseless. Ominis held an innocent expression, as if he wasn't the most infuriating mischievous wizard you had ever encountered.

You huffed at your wandless state you glared back at the wizard with determination. Two can play at this game.

With a swift snap of your fingers, you cast a jinx that tripped Paxton, who was still in shock from the events that just unfolded. He let out a startled yelp as he stumbled forward, colliding into Ominis and sending them both crashing to the ground in a heap.

You couldn't help the giggle that erupted from your lips as you seized the chance to escape. Quickly you emerged from your hiding spot in the corner, but your disillusionment charm failed as you made your sudden move, revealing your presence to the two boys still recovering from the fall, shock wriiten all over their faces. Paxton was the first to notice you, but you ignored him, instead turning your attention to Ominis.

"Still haven't caught me yet, Gaunt. You have 20 minutes" you challenge daringly.

Ominis crushed under the weight of Paxton body, raised an eyebrow at your challenge, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"What- Y/N!? Wait, what's going on?! " Paxton exclaimed.

Ominis wasnt going to let you escape like this. Your cleverness caught him off guard but he should have known better than to understimate how quick you can think on your feet sometimes. Ignoring his the prefect on top of him, he reached for his wand with lightning speed, determined to halt your escape.

But his efforts were cut off when Paxton suddenly grabbed his collars, preventing him from casting the spell on time. "What exactly are you two playing at here?!

Damn it.

Upon seeing the scene, you huffed out a laugh and bolted for the stairs leaving a very frustrated Ominis behind.

You just slipped through his fingers, and Ominis couldn't do anything about it. The young gaunts face twitched in irritation before becoming aware of the vicnity between him and Paxton. Ominis gritted his teeth in frustration.

"Get. off. me"

With a hard shove, Ominis didn't wait for his reply and pushed Paxton off as he landed to his right side with grunt.

Ominis quickly got up feeling repulsed and very much pissed at you for causing this little situation.

Paxton rolled over after everything finally sinked in and quickly jumped up, pointing an accusing finger towards the pissed young slytherin.

"That's it. That's fucking it! I am handing you BOTH over to professor Sharp right now-"

"Obliviate".

The tip of Ominis wand glowed brilliantly before fading and falling limply by his side. He couldn't be bothered anymore as he was fresh out of his saint like paitence.'The dark-haired male slumped before falling to the floor with a thud unconscious. Ominis patted his uniform down with a breathy laugh in disbelief. Pulling that kind of petty trick was just about the worse thing you could do because you were really in for it now.

So you wanted to play cat and mouse with him? Fine. But he wasn't going to be sweet about it.

"Tightly clutching his wand with white-knuckled fingers, Ominis spun on his heels and charged after you with newfound fervor. Your bratty behavior had ignited a fire in him that he was now obligated to extinguish. This evening was by the far the most frustrating for the young Gaunt before he quickly tried to fix the straining bulge that pressed painfully against his trousers.

You earned whatever he was about to do to you.

Ominis clicked his tongue in annoyance before making his down the stairs and fixated on your magical trace once again. He decided he would feel bad about it later. But right now, he knew you were wandless, and you would quickly learn how the gravity of that mistake.

[bungerc0re]

i am so sick of this website I don expect all of you to spend weeks reading queer theory but "pre-transition trans girls in childhood experience significantly less sexual assault than their cis male counterparts" should not be something you caj conclude in anno domini two thousand and twenty four

[susieporta]

Il Carro.

"Il passaggio alla Coscienza delle strutture del Passato".

La Carica Energetica di questi giorni ci catapulta nel "mondo della Personalità", da cui vengono strutturate le nostre azioni, i nostri compromessi, le nostre direzioni.

La Personalità è una struttura "mobile", si sviluppa nel tempo attraverso le molteplici Esperienze sensoriali e adattive.

Può cristallizzarsi nel trauma e assumere "connotazioni altamente disfunzionali", ma necessarie e vitali per sopravvivere alle "intemperie emozionali" dell'epoca.

Personalità non equivale a "Temperamento".

Esso è un Dono d'Origine.

Il "Temperamento" scandisce il ritmo della nostra melodia interiore. Lavora attraverso la "risonanza", è elemento naturale, puro, indomabile.

La Personalità è costruita, è adattativa.

Lavorare sulla Personalità è il nodo cruciale per ricostituire funzionamenti allineati alla nostra Autentica Essenza, ripulendoci dalla necessità di "attingere al trauma" per affrontare le condizioni del Presente.

E' un lavoro lungo.

Così come ci sono voluti anni per formulare e cristallizzare le risposte adattive, così ci vorranno altrettanti sforzi e sperimentazioni consapevoli per destrutturarle e offrire al Sistema Interiore una alternativa sana e funzionale.

Sebbene tutto sia più accelerato in questi Tempi, senza un intervento mirato e profondo, è facile cadere nell'ennesima trappola della disfunzione negata.

Non c'è Trasformazione senza consapevolezza piena, lucida e presente di cosa non funziona, di cosa confligge dentro di noi.

Questi tempi interrogano. Ci fanno riflettere. Ci pongono in condizione di profondo stress interiore, per portarci ad assumerci totale responsabilità su noi stessi. Ci invitano a percepire che, oltre la maschera della personalità, c'è qualcun altro che attende di "venire alla luce", di essere partorito nuovamente.

E' il Nuovo Sè.

Scalpita e si contorce dentro di noi. Fa rumore.

Vuole riguadagnare terreno, contaminare ogni cellula del nostro Corpo e della nostra Psiche.

Vuole rompere con la Paura e l'Inganno.

A costo di perdere nuovamente tutto ciò che sapeva di se stesso. Tutto ciò che credeva intoccabile. Tutto ciò che si era salvato dai precedenti movimenti tellurici.

L'Amore non può nulla nella Disfunzione.

Muore. Si spegne. Non trova ardimento e passione.

L'Amore senza l'Autenticità è Teatro.

E' "impostore di se stesso".

E' "ruolo appreso".

Ed è destinato a produrre dapprima "abbaglio e illusione" e successivamente "frustrazione e conflitto".

La stanchezza potrebbe renderci demotivati nell'affrontare sempre nuovi Demoni. Ma non sono poi così nuovi, né così spaventosi come una volta.

Sono per lo più proiettati su una parete, devitalizzati nella loro carica distruttiva. Non fanno più così male. Chiedono solo di essere visti e lasciati andare.

In questo periodo il Sè interiore è agitato. Sembra un "folle" in preda ad un delirio maniacale.

Si muove alla stregua di un puledro imbizzarrito.

Non lo gestisci, non lo domini, non lo riporti alla condizione precedente, ma non sa guidarsi verso la successiva.

E necessita di cura e attenzione, di comprensione e connessione.

Non di anestesia e controllo.

Presto questa forza irrequieta che scalpita dentro di noi si trasformerà in Passione. E lì vedremo crollare definitivamente tutto ciò che, rimasto in bilico tra il Prima e il Dopo, abbandonerà la scena, perché non più idoneo a rappresentare il trionfale ritorno all'Essenza.

Il Nuovo avanza. Ed è potente.

Al momento possiamo solo immaginare il prossimo passo. Ma la profezia sarà comunque riduttiva rispetto alla realtà che presto ci ritroveremo a constatare davanti ai nostri increduli occhi.

Non è ora il tempo delle scelte. Non quelle della Mente.

Il Cuore Cristallino sta lavorando incessantemente, giorno e notte. Per ripulire, riattivare, riconnettere ogni parte ancora scollegata al Sentito.

Lasciamolo completare il suo prezioso ciclo di Adattamento Funzionale. Restiamo anche nel dubbio o nella confusione se serve. Non è necessario "sapere ora". Ci sarà un tempo anche per l'Azione Ispirata.

Ma non è oggi. E nemmeno domani. Perché questa settimana si completa la distruzione. E si affrontano i massi più imponenti. Senza Paura, senza Timore.

Settimana quindi all'insegna dei crolli.

Respirate e preparatevi alla Liberazione. Non toccate nulla. Non assecondate decisioni avventate. Non agitatevi.

Restate. Affrontate.

Fermi. Immobili. Lucidi e presenti.

E poi, godetevi lo spettacolo. Perché non c'è crollo senza sollievo e senza "traguardo".

Mirtilla Esmeralda

[ipierrealism]

Anno domini 2024, ancora sembra inaccettabile dire che ogni tanto ci si fa foto (semi)nudi per avere validazione esterna e non c'è nulla di male in merito

[sottileincanto]

Berenice

- Edgar Allan Poe -

La sventura ha molti aspetti; la miseria sulla terra è multiforme. Domina il vasto orizzonte come l’arcobaleno e i suoi colori sono altrettanto variati, altrettanto distinti eppure strettamente fusi. Domina il vasto orizzonte come l’arcobaleno. In che modo ho potuto trarre un carattere di bruttezza da un esempio di bellezza? Dal sogno dell’amicizia e della pace una similitudine di dolore? Ma come, in morale, il male è la conseguenza del bene, ugualmente, nella realtà dalla gioia nasce l’affanno; sia che il ricordo del passato felice crei 1’angoscia dell’oggi, sia che le agonie reali traggano la loro origine dalle estasi che sono state possibili.

Io ho da raccontare una storia la cui essenza è piena di orrore. La sopprimerei volentieri se non fosse piuttosto una cronaca di sentimenti che di fatti.

Il mio nome di battesimo è Egeo, il mio nome di famiglia non lo dirò. Nella regione non c’è castello più carico di gloria e d’anni che il mio vecchio e melanconico maniero avito. Da molto tempo la nostra famiglia aveva nome di una razza di visionari; il fatto è che in molte particolarità notevoli- nel carattere della nostra casa padronale- negli affreschi della gran sala- negli arazzi delle camere- nei fregi dei colonnini della sala d’armi- ma più specialmente nella galleria dei vecchi quadri, nell’aspetto della biblioteca e finalmente nella natura peculiare del contenuto di questa biblioteca- si può trovare di che giustificare ampiamente questa persuasione.

I ricordi dei miei primi anni sono legati unicamente a quella sala e a quei volumi dei quali non parlerò più. Quivi morì mia madre; quivi nacqui io. Ma sarebbe ozioso dire che non ho mai vissuto prima d’allora- che l’anima non ha un’esistenza anteriore. Lo negate?- non discutiamo su questa materia. Io son convinto ma non cerco di convincere altri. C’è, del resto, una rimembranza, di forme eteree, di occhi spirituali e parlanti, di suoni melodiosi e melanconici, una rimembranza che non vuole andarsene; una specie di memoria pari a una ombra,- vaga, trasmutabile, indeterminata, vacillante; e di questa ombra essenziale non potrò mai disfarmene, finché brillerà il sole della mia ragione.

Io nacqui in quella stanza là. Emergendo così di mezzo alla lunga notte che sembrava essere ma non era la, non esistenza, per cadere ad un tratto in una regione fantasmagorica, in un palazzo fantastico- negli strani domini del pensiero e dell’erudizione monastica- non è meraviglia che io guardassi intorno a me con occhio ardente e sbigottito- che abbia consumato l’infanzia fra i libri e prodigato la mia gioventù in fantasticherie; ma quel che è strano- quando gli anni passarono e il meriggio della mia virilità mi trovò vivo ancora nella dimora dei miei antenati- quel che è strano è quel ristagno che si produsse nelle sorgenti della mia vita, quella completa inversione che si produsse nelle qualità dei miei pensieri più abituali. Le realtà del mondo agivano su me come delle visioni e solo come visioni, mentre che 1’idee folli del mondo dei sogni divenivano, in compenso, non solo il pascolo della mia esistenza quotidiana, ma effettivamente la mia stessa unica, la mia intera esistenza.

Berenice ed io eravamo cugini e crescevamo insieme nella casa paterna. Ma crescemmo disugualmente: io malaticcio e sepolto nella mia melanconia, essa agile, graziosa, esuberante di energia; a lei il vagabondare per le colline- a me gli studi da monaco io vivevo nel mio cuore stesso e mi votavo, anima e corpo, alla più intensa, alla, più ingrata meditazione- essa errava traverso alla vita, noncurante, senza pensare alle ombre del suo cammino né nella fuga silenziosa delle ore alla nere piume Berenice!- io invoco il suo nome – e dalle grigie rovine della mia memoria su levano a questo nome mille ricordi tumultuosi. Ah, La sua immagine è là, vive dinanzi a me come nei giorni primi della sua spensieratezza e della sua gioia! Oh, magnifica e insieme fantasiosa bellezza! Oh silfide nei boschetti di Arnheim! Oh naiade di quelle fontane! Poi- poi tutto diviene mistero e terrore storia che non vuole esser raccontata. Un male- un male tragico piombo sul suo corpo come il simoun; anzi mentre la contemplavo, lo spirito trasformatore passava su di lei e la rubava a poco a poco, impossessandosi della sua mente delle sue abitudini, del suo carattere, perturbando perfino la sua fisionomia in modo sottilissimo e terribile. Ahimé! il distruttore veniva e se ne andava; ma la vittima- la vera Berenice- che è diventata? Quella lì non la conoscevo o almeno non la riconoscevo più quale la Berenice di un tempo. Nel corteo numeroso di malattie apportate da quel fatale e principale attacco che produsse una rivoluzione così orribile nell’essere fisico e morale di mia cugina, la più tormentosa e la più ostinata era una specie di epilessia che spesso finiva in catalessi- catalessi che rassomigliavano in tutto alla morte, da cui essa, certe volte, si risvegliava in un modo brusco e improvviso. Nel tempo stesso il mio male- perché mi hanno detto che non potevo denominarlo altrimenti- il mio male aumentava rapidamente i sintomi erano aggravati dall’uso dell’oppio; e finalmente prese il carattere di una monomania di nuovo genere e mai vista. Ogni ora, ogni minuto, guadagnava in energia e alla fine conquistò su me il più strano e il più incomprensibile potere. Questa monomania se devo servirmi di questo vocabolo consisteva in una morbosa irritabilità delle facoltà dello spirito che il linguaggio filosofico comprende sotto il nome di “facoltà di attenzione”. È più che probabile che non sia capito; ma in verità, temo di non poter dare in nessun modo alla più gran parte dei lettori un’idea esatta di questa intensità d’interesse per la quale, nel caso mio la facoltà meditativa- eviterò il linguaggio tecnico – si applicava e si sprofondava nella contemplazione delle cose le più banali di questo mondo.

Riflettere infaticabilmente per ore ed ore, inchiodando l’attenzione su qualche puerile citazione in margine o nel testo di un libro- restare assorto per quasi tutta una giornata d’estate per un’ombra bizzarra che si allungava obliquamente sugli arazzi o sul pavimento- dimenticare tutto per una intera notte nel sorvegliare la fiammella diritta di un lume o la brace del caminetto- sognare giorni interi sul profumo di un fiore- ripetere in una maniera monotona qualche parola volgare fino a che il suono a forza d’esser ripetuto, non rappresenti più allo spirito nessuna idea- perdere ogni coscienza di movimento e di esistenza fisica in un assoluto riposo prolungato ostinatamente- queste erano alcune delle più comuni e perniciose aberrazioni delle mie facoltà mentali, aberrazioni che certamente non restano del tutto senza esempi, ma che certamente sfidano ogni spiegazione e ogni analisi. Anzi mi spiego meglio. L’anormale, intensa, morbosa attenzione eccitata così da oggetti in se stessi frivoli, non e di natura tale da confondersi con quella inclinazione al fantasticare che è comune a tutta umanità, a cui si abbandonano sopratutto le persone di ardente immaginazione.

Non solamente non era, come si potrebbe supporre a prima vista, un termine remoto, un’esagerazione di quell’inclinazione, ma anzi n’era differente per origine e per qualità. Nell’un caso il sognatore, l’uomo immaginativo occupato da un oggetto generalmente non frivolo, perde a poco a poco di vista il suo oggetto attraverso un’ infinità di deduzioni e suggestioni che ne scaturiscono fuori, cosicché in fondo ad una di queste meditazioni spesso piene di voluttà si accorge che l’incitamentum o causa prima delle sue riflessioni è completamente svanito e dimenticato. Nel caso mio invece il punto di partenza era sempre banale sebbene assumesse un’ importanza immaginaria e di rifrazione, traversando il campo della mia visione malata. Io facevo poche deduzioni- se pure ne facevo, e nel caso, esse tornavano ostinatamente all’oggetto principale come a un centro. Le meditazioni non erano mai piacevoli; e alla fine del sogno la causa prima lungi dall’essere fuori questione aveva raggiunto quell’importanza straordinariamente esagerata che era il tratto dominante del mio male. In poche parole la facoltà dello spirito in modo speciale acuita in me era, come dissi la facoltà, dell’attenzione, mentre che nel sognatore comune quella della meditazione.

In quel tempo i libri se non mi servivano proprio a irritare il male, partecipavano ampiamente come si può capire, nel loro carattere imaginativo e irrazionale, delle qualità peculiari del male stesso. Mi ricordo bene, fra gli altri del trattato del nobile italiano Celio Secondo Curione, Della grandezza del felice regno di Dio; la grande opera di S. Agostino, La Città di Dio e Della carne del Cristo di Tertulliano, il cui inintelligibile detto: credibile est quia ineptum est; sepultus resurrexit, certum quia est quia impossibile est– assorbì esclusivamente tutto il mio tempo, per più settimane di una laboriosa e infruttuosa investigazione.

Senza dubbio più d’uno concluderà che la mia ragione, scossa nel suo equilibrio da certe cose insignificanti, offriva una certa somiglianza con quella rocca marina di cui parla Tolomeo Efestio che resisteva immutabilmente a tutti gli attacchi degli uomini e al furore più terribile delle acque e dei venti e che fremeva al tocco del fiore chiamato asfodelo. A un giudice superficiale parrà semplicissimo e fuor di dubbio che la terribile alterazione prodotta della condizione morale di Berenice dalla sua malattia dovesse fornirmi più di una occasione ad esercitare questa intensa e anormale meditazione di cui a grave fatica ho potuto definirvi la qualità. Ebbene le cose non stavano punto in questo modo. Nei lucidi intervalli della mia infermità, la sua sventura mi cagionava è vero molto dolore; quella rovina totale della sua bella e dolce esistenza mi pungeva acutamente il cuore; io riflettevo spesso e amaramente sul modo misterioso e strano nel quale aveva potuto prodursi una sì rapida trasformazione. Ma queste riflessioni non avevano il colore proprio al mio male ed erano uguali a quelle che in circostanze analoghe si sarebbero presentate alla massa comune degli uomini. Quanto alla mia malattia, fedele al suo carattere, si faceva un pascolo dei cambiamenti meno importanti ma più visibili, che si manifestavano nell’organismo fisico di Berenice- nella strana e spaventevole distorsione del suo aspetto. È certissimo che nei giorni più luminosi della sua incomparabile bellezza io non l’avevo amata. Nella strana anomalia della mia esistenza, i sentimenti non mi sono mai venuti dal cuore e le mie passioni mi son sempre venute dallo spirito. Traverso alla pallidezza del crepuscolo- a mezzogiorno fra le ombre intrecciate della foresta- e la notte nel silenzio della mia biblioteca- essa mi era passata oltre gli occhi e io 1’avevo vista, non come la Berenice vivente e respirante, ma come la Berenice di un sogno, non come un essere della terra, un essere carnale, ma come l’astrazione di un tal essere; non come una cosa da ammirare, ma da analizzare non come oggetto di amore, ma come il tema di una meditazione tanto astrusa quanto anormale. E ora, ora tremavo al suo cospetto, impallidivo al suo avvicinarsi; intanto sebbene lamentassi amaramente la sua triste condizione di deperimento, mi ricordai che essa mi aveva amato lungamente e, in un momento infelice, le parlai di matrimonio. Il tempo fissato per le nostre nozze si avicinava quando un pomeriggio d’inverno- una di quelle giornate nebbiose che preparano la febbre al cuore- mi sedei credendomi solo nella stanza della biblioteca. Ma, alzando gli occhi, vidi Berenice dinanzi a me.

Fu la mia immaginazione sovreccitata, o l’influsso dell’atmosfera brumosa o la veste oscura, che avvolgeva la sua persona, che le diede quel contorno così tremante e indeciso? Non potrei dirlo. Forse dopo la sua malattia era cresciuta. Essa non disse una parola; e io non avrei pronunziato una sillaba per nulla al mondo. Un brivido gelato mi corse il corpo; una sensazione di angoscia insopportabile mi opprimeva; una curiosità divorante s’introdusse nel mio animo; e appoggiandomi riverso sulla poltrona rimasi un po’ di tempo senza moto e senza respiro cogli occhi inchiodati sulla sua persona. Ahimé era estremamente smagrita; dell’essere di una volta non era sopravvissuto vestigio né era rimasto neppure un lineamento. Finalmente i miei sguardi caddero sulla sua faccia. La fronte era alta, pallidissima e supremamente serena; i capelli, una volta di un nero corvino la coprivano in parte e ombravano le tempie incavate colle fitte anella, ora di un biondo caldissimo; e quel tono capriccioso di colore stonava dolorosamente colla malinconia dominante sulla sua fisionomia. Gli occhi erano senza vita e senza splendore, come senza pupille, e involontariamente io distornai lo sguardo da quella vitrea fissità, per contemplare le labbra affinate e aggrinzite. Esse si aprirono e in un sorriso stranamente espressivo i denti della nuova Berenice si rivelarono lentamente alla mia vista. Non li avessi mai guardati o fossi io morto subito dopo averli guardati.

Una porta chiudendosi mi scosse e, alzando gli occhi, vidi che mia cugina era uscita dalla camera. Ma nella camera sconvolta del mio cervello lo spettro bianco o terribile dei suoi denti restava e voleva andarsene più. Non una scalfittura, sulla superficie di quei denti, non un’ombra sul loro smalto, non una punta sul quel sorriso passeggero non fosse bastato a imprimere nella mia memoria. Anzi li vidi allora più nettamente che non poco prima. Quei denti! quei denti!- Essi erano qui- poi là, per tutto- visibili palpabili, dinanzi a me; lunghi stretti e bianchissimi, colle labbra pallide che si torcevano intorno, orribilmente tese, com’erano poco prima. Allora sopraggiunse la furia piena della mia monomania ed invano lottai contro la sua irresistibile influenza. Nella massa infinita degli oggetti del mondo esteriore, non avevo pensiero che per i denti. Tutte le altre cose, tutte le alterazioni diverse furono assorbite in quella unica contemplazione. Essi, essi soli, eran presenti all’occhio del mio spirito e la loro esclusiva individualità divenne il fulcro della mia vita intellettuale. Io li guardavo sotto tutte le luci; li volgevo in tutti i sensi; studiavo le loro qualità; osservavo i loro segni particolari; meditavo sulla loro conformazione. Riflettevo sull’alterazione della loro natura. Rabbrividivo attribuendo loro nella mia immaginazione una facoltà, di sensazione e di sentimento e anche, senza neppure il concorso delle labbra, una potenza d’espressione morale. Fu detto eccellentemente della signorina Sallé che tutti i suoi passi erano dei sentimenti e di Berenice io pensavo seriamente che tutti i denti erano delle idee.- Delle idee!- ah! ecco il pensiero assurdo che mi ha perduto!! Delle idee! ah! ecco dunque perché li desideravo così pazzamente! Sentivo che solo il loro possesso poteva restituirmi la pace e ripristinare la mia ragione. E la sera così discese su di me- e le tenebre vennero, si fissarono e poi se ne andarono- e una luce nuova comparve e le nebbie di una seconda notte si agglomerarono su di me- ed io ero sempre immobile in quella camera solitaria, sempre seduto, sempre sepolto nella mia meditazione, o sempre il fantasma dei denti manteneva la sua influenza terribile a tal punto che io la vedevo fluttuare qua e là e traverso la luce e le ombre cangianti della camera, colla più viva e la più orrida limpidezza. Finalmente in mezzo ai miei sogni scoppiò un gran grido di dolore e di spavento al quale successe dopo una pausa, con suono di voci desolate, intramezzato da gemiti sordi di dolore e di lutto. Io mi alzai e aprendo una delle porte della biblioteca trovai nell’anticamera un servo piangente che mi disse che Berenice non viveva più! Era stata presa dall’epilessia nella mattinata; e ora, sul cader della notte, la fossa aspettava la futura abitatrice e tutti i preparativi del seppellimento erano terminati.

…

Il cuore grave di angoscia, oppresso da sbigottimento, mi diressi con una certa ripugnanza nella camera da letto della defunta. La camera era vasta e oscura e ad ogni passo inciampavo nei preparativi della sepoltura. Le cortine del letto, mi disse un domestico, erano chiuse intorno alla bara, e dentro a questa bara, aggiunse o, voce bassa, giaceva tutto quel che restava di Berenice. Chi fu dunque che mi domandò se volevo rivedere il corpo? – Io non vidi che nessuno muovesse le labbra; eppure la domanda era stata proprio fatta e l’eco dell’ultime sillabe strascicava ancora nella camera. Era impossibile opporsi e con un senso di oppressione mi trascinai accanto al letto. Sollevai adagio il cupo panno dello cortine, ma nel lasciarle ricadere discesero sulle mie spalle e separandomi dal mondo vivente mi chiusero nella più stretta comunione colla defunta. Tutta l’atmosfera della camera sapeva di morte; ma l’odore particolare della bara mi faceva male, e mi pareva che un odore deleterio esalasse già dal cadavere. Avrei dato l’oro del mondo per scappare, per fuggire il pernicioso influsso della morte per respirare ancora 1’aria pura dei cieli immortali. Ma non avevo più la forza di muovermi; i ginocchi mi vacillavano; avevo preso radice nel suolo, guardando fissamente il cadavere rigido, steso in tutta, la sua lunghezza nella bara aperta. Dio del cielo! è mai possibile? Il mio cervello delira? o il dito della defunta si è mosso sotto la tela bianca che lo chiude? Tremando di un terrore indescrivibile alzai gli occhi lentamente per vedere la faccia del cadavere. Avevano messo una benda intorno alle mascelle, ma non so come si era sciolta. Le labbra livide si torcevano in una specie di sorriso e traverso alla loro melanconica cornice i denti di Berenice bianchi, lucenti terribili mi guardavano ancora con una realtà troppo viva. Io mi scostai convulsamente dal letto e senza dir parola mi slanciai come un maniaco fuor di quella camera di misteri, di orrore e di morte.

…

Mi ritrovai nella biblioteca, ero e solo. Mi sembrava di uscire da un sogno confuso ed agitato. Vidi che era mezzanotte ed io avevo preso le mie precauzioni perché Berenice fosse sepolta subito dopo il tramonto. Ma di quel che accadde durante quel lugubre intervallo non ho conservato memoria certa né chiara. Pure la mia mente era ingombra di orrore, tanto più orribile quanto più vago, di un terrore che l’ambiguità rendeva più spaventoso. Era come una pagina paurosa nel registro della mia esistenza scritto interamente con ricordi oscuri, orrendi e inintelligibili. Mi sforzai di decifrarli, ma invano. Pure di tanto in tanto simile all’anima di un suono fuggevole, un grido sottile e penetrante- come voce di donna- mi sembrava che si ripercuotesse nelle mie orecchie. Io avevo fatto qualche cosa, ma che cos’era mai? Io mi rivolgevo la domanda ad alta voce e gli echi della camera mi bisbigliavano per tutta risposta: Che era mai?

Sulla tavola accanto a me ardeva una lampada e accanto c’era una piccola scatola di ebano. Non era una scatola di stile notevole e 1’avevo già vista più volte perché apparteneva al medico di famiglia; ma come mai era venuta lì, sulla tavola, e perché mi venivano i brividi a guardarla? Eran cose che non valeva la pena di attrarre l’attenzione; ma gli occhi mi caddero alla fine sulle pagine aperte di un libro e su una frase sottolineata. Erano le parole bizzarre, ma molto semplici del poeta Ebn Zaiat: Mi andavan dicendo i compagni miei che se avessi visitato il sepolcro dell’amica i miei affanni sarebbero alquanto allievati.

Perché mai dunque a leggere quelle linee mi si rizzarono i capelli sulla testa e il sangue mi si ghiacciò nelle vene? Un colpo fu battuto alla porta, e un servo, pallido come un cadavere, entrò sulla punta dei piedi. Aveva gli occhi sconvolti dallo spavento, e mi parlo con voce bassissima, tremante, soffocata. Che mi disse? Io sentii qualche frase qua e là. Mi raccontò, sembra, che un grido spaventoso aveva turbato il silenzio della notte, che tutti i domestici si eran riuniti, e che avevan cercato nella direzione del suono, poi la sua voce bassa divenne chiara in modo da darmi i fremiti parlandomi di violazione di sepoltura, d’un corpo sfigurato, spogliato del lenzuolo, ma che ancora respirava e palpitava, che viveva ancora.

Mi guardò i vestiti; erano imbrattati di fango e di sangue aggrumato. Senza far parola mi prese dolcemente per mano; la mia mano aveva delle impronte di unghie umane. Poi richiamò la mia attezione sopra un oggetto appoggiato al muro, 1o guardai qualche minuto. era una vanga. Mi gettai con un grido sulla tavola ed afferrai la scatola di ebano, ma non ebbi la forza di aprirla e nel tremito mi sfuggì di mano, cadde pesantemente e andò in pezzi; ne uscirono rotolando con fragore di terraglia degli strumenti da dentista e con essi trentadue piccole cose bianche, simili ad avorio, che si sparpagliarono qua e là sul pavimento

[dragonstepp]

Wars

As I lay awake pondering other things:

I believe wars begun when the first two human creations met one another. Greed and power are the reasons. And they become worse the more people meet one another, even if from the same place, but everywhere anyway. And christianity was the worse thing that ever happened - I know this from personal life.

I know when christianity came into being, and it was not the 1st day of the first year of Anno Domini. It was brought into being by priests at a synod in 326 AD. It was made universal (at the time) across the known world.

First of all, how was that date chosen for that date. How was the child chosen to be identified as the Christ. The boy Yeshua was actually born historically 4 days before the date chosen for the start of Anno Domini.

We seem to know theoretically the date of birth happened based on the time of a super-nova; that was the bright star. But super-novae stay in the sky at specific dates when they occur. We cannot predict them, unless some astrophysicist knows astrologically. It is all theoretical anyway.

Pre-christianity was known to have the days named by different gods. Now I believe in an almighty God/dess who rules over humanity. What humans do not understand that are nine-million names (or more, that was the name of a great story, so fictional or not) of God/dess. It is named differently because of languages and places of named. Thus, Zeus, Jupiter, Thor, Dio, Dia, Freya, Buddha, are all names of the same God/dess. Male and female, man and woman, all spirits, not humans. God/dess does not wear a man's face. And by god/dess, I do not believe in any creation that thinks we humans are the best s/he can do.

If you believe in the christian god, and also believe in the evil that men (and women) do, are very delusional, and do not understand the very essence of an all-seeing and all-loving Being.

So don't tell me you believe in god if you think lying, greedy, unkind, non-compassionate people who think they are better than the liberals who believe in justice for everyone, every single human being who has ever lived. YOU DO NOT.

We the good are going to win out. We are.

Carol in Austin

[mucillo]

A molti

Io sono la vostra voce, il calore del vostro fiato,

il riflesso del vostro volto,

i vani palpiti di vane ali…

fa lo stesso, sino alla fine io sto con voi.

Ecco perché amate così cúpidi

me, nel mio peccato e nel mio male,

perché affidaste a me ciecamente

il migliore dei vostri figli;

perché nemmeno chiedeste di lui,

mai, e la mia casa vuota per sempre

velaste di fumose lodi.

E dicono: non ci si può fondere più strettamente,

non si può amare più perdutamente…

Come vuole l’ombra staccarsi dal corpo,

come vuole la carne separarsi dall’anima,

così io adesso voglio essere scordata.

da “Anno Domini” 

ACHMATOVA ANDREEVNA ANNA

[fleetwood-mac-andcheese]

I'm trying to create a magical world and I can't tell if this is too complicated

Sorcerer: generic term for any humanoid spellcaster

Wizard: A type of sorcerer who gains their magic from the study of the magical arts

Dominie: A type of sorcerer who gains their magic from fielty to a magical patron

Witch: A type of sorcerer who gains their magic from bloodline inheritance

Warlock: An archaic term previously used for male witches, not commonly heard outside of the mortal realms

Is this too complicated? Am I overthinking this?

[anyavamps]

Music I listened to in April: Haunted Castle by French Police Anno Domini by Ex Vito Hope Springs Eternal by Earth Calling Angela Blood in the Disco by Corlyx Splitterelastisch by New Days Delay Haunting Me by Ekko the Strange The Three Calamities by Switchblade Symphony Collapsing by Velvet Vega Control by Gentle Ropes Telepath one by Angels of Liberty Leading stolen horses by Glorious Din Procession of Spectres by Mortal Clay Trauma Club by Male Tears Apollo by Soror Dolorosa Never Waved by Wisteria Tourniquets of Loves Desire by Children on stun Siglo XXI by Belgrado Love Lines by Nuovo Testamento Nada Es Para Siempre by Closed Tear Future use by 1919 Self Titled by Until December TRST by TR/ST Weltanschauung by Libitina O6octphenhe by Deathhawk Pressure Points by Palais Ideal Last years wife by Zero le Crèche Comedy of Terrors by AntiWorld. Girls Bite Harder by Soma Cake Into The Ice by Paralysed Age Little Lies by Mareux 

[basilepessoart]

Bogeria Total...

Sílvia,

Aquí veus bé que hi ha una persona que t'aplaudeix sobre tot un parlament, per un tema de aigua per las piscines de las presons. Es dir que un cop mes, veiem que no és un problema de "males espanyoles" contra "bons catalans" però un problema de bogeria general. I només sobre immigració però qualsevol paraula que pot "far pensar" que hi ha crim i delinqüència en la immigració. Basile Pesso, Land of Somewhere, 25 de juliol de 2 024 Curt extracte de intervenció de Sílvia Orriols al Parlament de Barcelona amb temptativa de interrupció per el President del Parlament Josep Rull

P.S : sobre el tema dels tabús, veure per eixample aquest text francès meu, "T Comme Tabou..." de abril de 2 021. Estem típicament davant a la "extensió del domini del tabú", de manera delirant, però amb les aparences de la raon, perquè expressat de manera freda i amb tot un consorci de poder i repressió darrere. Jo havia acompanyat, com varies cops des de anys i anys, el text del extracte de tortura del gran film de Costa-Gavras I Comme Icare (1 979, amb Yves Montand) sobre la obediència dèbil a ordres delirants, en aquesta ocurrència de torturar innocents.

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Parola 17/06/2024

*LA NOSTRA FORZA È NELLA VERITÀ*

Autor: Apolonio Carvalho Nascimento

A volte può sembrare che la menzogna domini il mondo. La menzogna non è mai stata in grado di superare la verità. Essa ottiene sostenitori, difensori, ma alla fine la verità prevale.

Dio è Amore, Verità e Libertà.

Non dobbiamo affrontare le menzogne con le parole, ma con la Parola di Dio resa viva in noi. Cioè con la testimonianza della Parola vissuta.

La verità, che è amore, ci libera dal peccato, dalle grinfie del male. Questa è la nostra forza.

La libertà più grande che possiamo sperimentare non è tanto quella di poter fare tutto quanto vogliamo, ma la libertà dai nostri condizionamenti, dai nostri vizi, dalle nostre debolezze. E solo l'amore è capace di farci conoscere la verità, che ci rende liberi.

L'amore che è la Via, la Verità e la Vita.

"Conoscerete la verità e la verità vi farà liberi". (Gv 8,32)