#dominic: threads

[rayofsunshinc]

starter for @devilscheck | Dominic & Jennifer

It was supposed to be another quiet night — just Dominic, a stack of old case files, and the dull hum of the desk lamp. But sure enough, when he looked out the window, there she was, leaning against his car in the half-lit parking lot. He huffed, rising from the chair to meet her outside.

❝Jennifer.❞ There was a slight chill in the air, unnaturally heavy. ❝Why does it seem like always show up right before everything goes to hell?❞

[rayofsunshinc]

❝Chill out!? Chill out.❞ He repeated back, but that was before the burn had begun to fade. He tilted his head, mouth open and brows furrowed in curiosity. That was new.

He had seen some crazy shit before. She had that part right. And yet, seeing someone get burned only to heal immediately wasn't something that he had ever seen. He straightened up, gaze moving from her mouth to meet hers. ❝Are you fucking with me?❞ He asked, and if her mischievous smile was anything to go by, the answer was yes. ❝Because my guesses aren't going to sound sane to a normal person. Not that I think you're normal regardless of if you've somehow managed to fake that or not.❞ He clarified.

@rayofsunshinc “that’s not fine! why is it like that?” // from dominic

ASKBOX FUN TIME // ALWAYS ACCEPTING

"Chill out, it's like TOTALLY fine," her words hummed as she watched the burn on her tongue slowly fade away. Holding it to a lighter had become a little party trick of hers, waiting to see just how long it took for someone else to squirm or question it. Usually, she closed her mouth and pranced away. No, not now, there was something she found INTERESTING in seeing his reaction. Jennifer couldn't quite put her finger on it, but she trusted to follow her gut.

"See? Like nothing ever happened," the words grew harder to understand as she stuck out her tongue before she pulled it back. There was a wicked smile painted on her features as her hand raised to brush a piece of her dark hair behind her ear. "Got any like... Guesses? I mean you've had to see some crazy shit before, right?"

[straykidsmedia]

realstraykids: STAY, what are you up to right now? Let us know in the comments💬

[sleepyminty]

Why is it that fandoms with their games made by the same company hate each other so much whereas this is the opposite?

[perilegs]

you hear me talk about domming and breeding and get excited only to see me playing flight rising

[prophvtics]

closed starter for @blcssom

"friends? friends, yeah sure. okay, whatever." their back and forth had been going on for a long time, longer than dominic usually entertained relationships for but there was something about them that had him crawling back every time, even in the face of constant belittling. "you're fucking ridiculous, you know that right? like what- what sane person calls a guy up and begs him- begs him to come over to then act like you didn't want him there in the first place. that's- don't be such a fucking liar."

[dearsgcd]

@snnydcys asked: ❝ can you stay? just a little longer… ❞ - dom

“if  you  thought  i  was  going  to  be  leaving  you  at  all  tonight?  you  clearly  don't  know  me.”

[hymnoire]

"and you.. who are you?" ( for my boy @homelander-rp-blog for any of your muses! for apocalypse au! )

Six months ago, during the war, Gaya fell and broke. Shot in the stomach, ejected through a window that cracked open, twenty floors high. Her spine shattered, her left arm snapped like glass, and her iliac wings were pulverized. She bled out on the pavement, dead. Technology had advanced in this new chapter of the world, enough to piece her body back together, enough to merge flesh with steel and thread her nerves through circuits. Her left arm and her spine were fully replaced, bionic. Neural pathways were rerouted through a matrix of living code. Her body healed, but she was no longer just human. Half a woman, half a machine. That same technology is what tore the world apart. It began in secrecy, in government labs chasing transcendence, trying to rewrite the limits of the human condition. But the secret didn’t stay buried. Titan, a terrorist syndicate with no face and endless reach, stole the research before the government could even lie about it. By the time Titan was found, it was too late. They were out for blood, and they got it. Gaya always believed humans shouldn’t play God and she was right. Sadly, she still failed to stop what came next. The war that followed wasn’t just civil, it was apocalyptic. Titan’s stolen tech created HumanAIs, hybrids built for war, programmed to kill who inevitably start killing regular humans. What started as a silent war became a global one, spiraling out of control. Now, what's left of humanity hides. Scattered. Starving. The cities belong to the HumanAIs who operate for Titan, soulless, and ruthless. The rest of the world is a crumbling wasteland of rusted skeletons and toxic air. Humans live in exile, in otarcy, a kind of existence where survival is a full-time job and trust is extinct. Many wander the red deserts, where wind doesn’t blow and the sky forgets to rain. Gaya hasn’t awakened yet from her recovery and surgery, she still lies in a bed made of glass, intubated, in a room that’s kept hidden. A room watched over by Kaeleena.

Kaeleena stands like a ghost wrapped in ivory, a vision so pristine it feels offensive. Her dress is immaculate, the color of untouched snow, stitched from something too soft to be real, yet too perfect to be fabric. It clings and drapes with eerie fluidity, a high-collared robe that splits open like a ceremonial blade down the front, revealing thin bands of gold coiled along her ribs. Ornamental and useless, like jewelry meant for gods. Her feet are bare. Clean. Silent. She moves like she’s never touched the ground. The room she inhabits is an aberration in this post-collapse world. A sanctum of impossible luxury carved into the bones of Titan's supremacy. Glass walls rise around her like cathedral windows, refracting artificial light into dancing gold across the marbled floor. A single desk dominates the room, sleek and angular. Behind her, a massive screen displays with schematics, pulse maps, surveillance grids, and living files. One of them is labeled simply: Gayane. Cables slither from the ceiling like lazy serpents, some plugged into her desk, others drifting, whispering data and venom. The air smells of antiseptic and something older, like ozone or blood. Kaeleena leans against the edge of the desk, absurdly at ease in this sanctuary of horrors. Her eyes are pale, too pale to be fully human anymore. She was once, like all of them. When she smiles, it is with the slow satisfaction of someone who has already won. Her presence is cold. Where Gaya burned, Kaeleena freezes. She doesn’t need horns or claws. Her power is in her poise, her intelligence, and the certainty that she knows everything. Every path, every death, every betrayal. She watches John with the look of someone who already knows how the story ends. He is being escorted, not dragged or restrained, merely shadowed by the men who guard Titan’s inner sanctum. She has been expecting him. When he enters, she smiles, the curve of her lips dangerous. He asks who she is. Even if she would love to kill him, she doesn’t. Not yet. For the love of the game. “I do wonder,” she says, voice smooth as oil over glass, “if Gayane ever spoke of me, darling. I sincerely hope she did. If not... I shall be very disappointed. And I do not wear disappointment well.” They look exactly alike, Gaya and Kaeleena. Same eyes, same bone structure. But where Gaya kept the storm in her dark hair, Kaeleena bleached hers into light, so pale, almost white. Their auras, however, could not be more different. Gaya was the flame. Kaeleena, the frost.

“Who am I?” she repeats, stepping closer. Her voice is steel. “I am the villain in your precious narrative, John. Welcome to Titan. Our empire is sacred, and I…” She smiles again, this time with teeth, deranged and proud. “I am its High Priestess.” She knows exactly how far he’s come. Crossed the red deserts. Walked through cities infested with soulless machines. All for her. “Don’t tell me,” she purrs, circling him now, like the serpent in Eden, “you came all this way simply to meet your sister-in-law.” Her tone turns mocking, cruel in its sweetness. “What is it, then? Have you come to steal my beloved Gayane away from me… instead?” She leans in, eyes wide with exaggerated sorrow, a hand drifting to rest against her heart, as though to calm some violent flutter within. “I have peered into her mind, you know. I have seen the two of you, watched those fivelong years unfold like pages in a sickeningly intimate little novel. The investigations, the dates, the whispered conspiracies, the moments where death breathed down your necks and you clung to each other like lifelines. And then, of course, the sweet, sweet love-making. I love yous in Missionary aren't as cute as you think they are.” Her lips curl with disdain, like the very memory leaves a taste of ash on her tongue. Psychotic and jealous? “She loves you. More than she ever loved me. Can you fathom that?” A low, brittle laugh slips from her throat, somewhere between a sob and a knife dragged across silk. She's deranged. “It shattered me,” she says softly, with a tragic little tilt of her head. “I’m terribly sensitive.” Then, just as quickly, her gaze turns. The softness evaporates, replaced by something cold and merciless, something that cuts. “So tell me, John,” she murmurs, voice tightening. “Do you want her back… or not?” She steps back, just slightly, her hands clasping behind her back, posture impeccable, like a queen awaiting terms of surrender. “Because I am not above bargaining and I always enjoy a good negotiation. That's how we can get to know each other.”

[rayofsunshinc]

starter for @painofhumanity (maggie) from dominic

The more boring part of hunting the supernatural was when they didn't want to be seen. Dominic had been visiting the outside of an empty townhouse that sat on a busy street for days, looking for anything, trying to sense anything. He was going to have to go inside, which meant some ugly breaking an entering. He would have to wait until late ... less people. He sighed, leg crossing over the other from his seat on the cement wall across the street. Just when he was about to give up on observing, there was a clear sound that came from the house. A howling? A crying? Something. He perked up, watching intently for a sign or the entity from the outside. That was when he saw a woman, just passing by on the street, who looked up at the house too.

Instead of the house, Dominic observed the woman with a mixture of concern and fascination. She seemed to be hearing exactly what he was, although none of the other by-passers were bothered. When she started to walk away, he quickly got up and crossed the street, trying to catch up to her.

❝Um, excuse me?❞ He approached her, trying not to startle her. ❝I couldn't help see that you ... reacted to that. The house - the howling, the ... whatever that was. You heard it too! Are you ... familiar with it? Have you ever been past the house before?❞

[wxrldinmyeyes]

Continued from this | @savagecuhnt

Characters Involved: Dominic Angel-Wetherly & Rose Von Greyson

"Perhaps we do. It's not often I meet someone who enjoys giving people pain and torture, whether they deserve it or not. As the saying goes, looks can be deceiving. I don't know much about you . . . yet . . . nor do I know your name but I do know this: You're beautiful and . . . I like it when women are strong, fearless and know how to take care of themselves."

Dominic watched the tattooed woman closely as she tilted her head to the side, showing him her neck. Her skin was clean and, to his surprise, not covered in tattoos like the rest of her body. The sight of it alone was enough to make his fangs ache for her blood and his mind thinking deeply about it flowing through her veins. Right then and there, he knew that the time for resisting his hunger will soon be over. His facial expression remained unchanged as he continued to make eye contact with the dark-haired, tattooed woman, his predatory nature as a vampire . . . well, half of it . . . beginning to show.

"I can see that. How very . . . clever of you to leave your skin bare and uncovered by permanent ink. It seems I have found someone to snack on after all. With or without alcohol, I bet you'll taste absolutely delicious. And as for what I taste like . . . well . . . you're more than welcome to find out."

The Wetherly hybrid smiled, revealing his fangs. With one arm, he wrapped it around her waist and pulled her closer to him, their bodies pressed against each other. Then, he lifted his free hand and used his fingers to gently trace her veins. His movements were slow, smooth and delicate, as if he was painting something on a blank canvas. He leaned his head down until his lips were inches away from her neck, his nose breathing in to her scent. A low, animalistic growl rumbled in his throat. A terrifying sound that will surely leave chills and shivers down her spine.

"I wonder, though. Have you ever offered your pretty neck to other vampires? Or is it just me?"

[moondustlings]

continued from here | @harshlxve

her head ducked at his teasing. "i know, it's embarrassing," she grumbled as she stood in the doorway awkwardly. his words were right, which made her predicament that much more troubling. every second that ticked by felt like hours, and the storm didn't sound like it was nearing any sort of ending. before she had a chance to beg — again — he was relenting and she couldn't help but squeal as she ran into the room. "it's a secret, i promise." just like her attraction had been. elise would have to be blind to not notice that her mom had married a hottie; just because he was her stepdad didn't mean she couldn't appreciate him while they cuddled. "you're the best," she sighed as her body practically burrowed into his. her hands appreciated the hard muscle of his bare skin, his warmth a comfort. "do you always sleep half-naked?" she asked, her question followed by a small laugh.

[troywindsor]

CLOSED FOR: @staincdvermillion (Dominic)

LOCATION: the golden mirage (or anywhere that Dominic could be at??)

Troy left no stone unturned when he put his mind on something. He was meticulous and fully aware of every detail that he had encountered over the past few days. As Attorney General, all he had to do when it came to high profile cases was oversee them. There were a lot of personal aspects attached to this one; the first one being that he was a guest at the party, the second that he was involved in allowing the youngest Barone to get shot at after locking one of the doors to the main room after an anonymous message hit his phone. One that had completely disappeared only minutes after.

There were so many pieces to the puzzle that he thought were being overseen. Despite all the other cases he had, this one was taking priority as there was the added pressure of a friend being hurt. Most people would feel helpless, Troy was incredibly motivated for the first time in years. The party was The Network's and he figured it was time to get more information, somehow. That was why he sat across Dominic Corvin now, who hadn't walked out of the yacht unharmed, but whose injury was almost unspoken about due to the nature of the night. "Back to work so soon after that injury must be strange, Mr. Corvin. You doing alright?"

[writermuses]

Though Caitriona nodded, she wondered if Dominic thought she was a bad mother for not having thought of doing that. Though they were together before her father's murder and her mothers untimely death, Caitriona hadn't taken Dom to meet them, only talked about them often. "My dad left INTERPOL before TK was born. I'm not sure he would have even had connections to get something like that set up for us, let alone any kids that TK and I would have one day. I can only assume it's pretty expensive." Now that he'd seen her flat it was obvious she didn't have a penny to her curse name. At his suggestion to let it go for now, she nodded with a polite smile, though the worry would stay there.

Mary was all color and Caitriona had never met anyone like her before. Jude was immediately drawn to the woman, all wide eyes and grabby hands. "My family calls-called me Mo, but anything's fine. Caitriona's a bit of a mouth full." She swallowed, still a little nervous and half behind Dominic's larger form, though the chunky baby in her arms was cooing and leaning forward, still eager to get out of her arms and into Mary's. "Would you like to hold him. He's clearly more interested in you than me." There was no sense of worry or sadness in her tone. She trusted that Dom wouldn't put Jude around someone unsafe.

continued from here for @sirxnx

[straykidsmedia]

realstraykids: You know what comes next…👂

Voicenote: "You make Stray Kids STAY!"

[swcctcrbittcr]

@oflustwritten connection: based off this nsfw gif

it'd been brett's idea for the three to go on a hike together, a little alone time for them in the woods. pretty views, no one around to monitor their conversations, room for anything to happen. if he was honest, it was hard to keep his hands of rae, and he knows dominic felt the same way about it. it was a secluded trail, but brett didn't want to risk anything. "hey, i think there's a nice view over here for us to have a nice break," he nods in a direction off trail for the two.

as soon as rae steps in front of him, his arms are reaching around to grab her, groping her while dominic looks over smugly. "oh? so am i the only one getting a real break then?" he laughs as brett leans down to bite at her neck. "what do you think rae? think dominic should have some fun with us? it's a nice break either way." his hand already reaching down the front of her shirt to palm her tits.

[musclesandhammering]

I could get cancelled for this immediately, but does anyone else get really irritated when you see a certain subset of the queer community inserting themselves into other subsets’ issues?

Like when cis gay people think they can speak for trans folks just because “well we’re all lgbt.”

Or like gay men thinking they can make misogynistic comments about lesbians and use the word d*ke etc just because “well we’re lgbt too”.

Or (and this is a big one lately) queer women inserting themselves into conversations that are about issues specific to queer men, and acting like they have exactly as much credibility in the argument because “well we’re just as lgbt as you.”

It’s just like… yeah we’re all queer. But each individual group is their own mini community, and they all have their own things that are specific to them, and if you aren’t in that exact demographic then you don’t have the experience necessary to add your input on those topics. And if you go ahead and shove your way into the conversation anyway, then you’re like… only 5% better than a homophobe. If that.