#dominicus

[d0wnlll]

Domestic violence in Penacony

[midokai]

@dominicus     SENT         [   . . .   ]         they're all over him, limbs sprawled out every which way, head laying near motionless on his chest. they're drooling, just a little bit, and after a few minutes of silence, they begin to snore. they've never snored a night in their life, but now... he wakes back up with a jerk. "mmn... shorry, l... love... i fell ashleep." he'd had a total of one singular glass of wine. he hasn't even told him how he loves him yet, and here are all of his secrets, ready to be spilled one by one. "keep me... keep me up, so i can..." a yawn. "... stay with you. i like... being around you."

     a call for celebration,     the partaking in commemoration via the ingestion of alcohol he’d bought the day prior,     in preparation for what was to be an eventful turn of events——     &͟.     it had been,     a great jubilee brought about via the overtaking of nimbasa city,     a visit to     &͟.     fro,     from the musical theater,     to the amusement park     &͟.     several returns to the famed ferris wheel he’d taken a liking to eras ‘fore their eventual encounter,     when his life had still been painted in the mundane,     in monotone black,     white     &͟.     gray of varying intensities     /     lifeless     &͟.     every bit somber.     just one bottle,     that had been the intention,     one shared ‘tween the two so neither would succumb to an overindulgence in liquor——     in moderation,     only enough to vaguely feel the buzz,     to loosen up     &͟.     fully relish the side effects of consumption.     or so that was the plan.

     had he known that his boyfriend was the definition of a lightweight the game plan would have never been brought to fruition,     altered to account for such a fretful discrepancy.     a singular glass of wine     &͟.     he was out for the count     [   . . .   ]     were it not so endearing it would be particularly frustrating.

     it’s not an entirely new sensation,     the pressing of weight on his person,     not when many a pokémon has spent their time lounging on him as if he were a designated setting for a good night’s rest.     how sunday managed to turn the tables in such a fashion is beyond him,     the happenings of moments prior a complete blur,     lost to the depths of mind,     composed entirely of nonsensical ideations     &͟.     unimportant notions.     there is no startle,     no inkling of shock nor surprise in his demeanor when they rouse awake once more,     for what must be the hundredth time in ten minutes,     does not waste any effort in averting gaze fixated unto the ceiling,     hyperfocused on nothing in particular,     many a thought swimming in the chambers of his brain,     all trivial     &͟.    unrelated to the current state of affairs.

     he’ll make a mental note for later:     no alcohol for sunday,     never again,     ‘til they somehow figure out how to hold their liquor better.

     ❝     go to sleep,     ❞     hand placed at their lower back stills the gentle caresses from second’s prior,     pads of digits digging into the fabric he’s scrunched up with the friction of his fingertips.     the sooner they’re lulled to sleep the faster they can sober up     /     he feels much like a babysitter,     hired to tend to his own boyfriend,     it’s just as cute as it is exasperating.     (     unable to withstand the effects of alcohol at their big age?     how humiliating,     how endearing.     )     ❝     i’ll still be here when you wake up.     just     [   . . .   ]     scoot over a bit,     please,     my arm is starting to fall asleep.     ❞

[bcllbcy]

Shoutout to @dominicus & @halovien keep up the wonderful writing and portrayal of Sunday! Also to all role-playing blogs, continue being epic! :D

[adracat]

GWitch: A Divine Authority

I was musing on this the other day and after rewatching a few key moments I think this deserves a quick post. Today's topic, the narrative signicance of Cathedra and Dominicus

Cathedra literally means 'seat' but when an authority in the Roman Catholic church is speaking ex cathedra, they are saying their word on faith and morality is infallible. Dominicus punctuates that authority as the 'Lord's Day'. Or as we have come to know, Suletta Sunday.

“Thus the heavens and the earth, and all the host of them, were finished. And on the seventh day God ended His work which He had done, and He rested on the seventh day from all His work which He had done. Then God blessed the seventh day and sanctified it, because in it He rested from all His work which God had created and made” (Genesis 2:1–3).

Coincidentally, the roots of the 'lord's day' coincide with why we refer to a witch's communion with the devil as a Black Sabbath. There are various reasons why it changed historically from the Jewish Sabbath (Saturday) to Sunday but for this post only know our weekly ritual isn't an accident.

As for Delling and the show's Cathedra, they are the ones who banned witchcraft using his kingly, and thus god-given, authority. He lampshades this with Prospera and Miorine in episode 2

Delling is, for all intents and purposes, the godly authority who speaks ex cathedra on gundams. His word is law. And those outside the laws of Cathedra and Dominicus are witches, per the witch hunt in the prologue.

It's no coincidence that it's witches who are the very ones who nearly take his life. Sophie and Norea have rebelled against god, becoming apostates. Afterward, we have the greatest victim and threat of god in the form of Prospera. And this is where the Norse Ragnarok, or the twilight of the gods, becomes relevant. Because before the world can become born anew it must be consumed by flame. The gods of the past must die and be reborn in the next cycle.

Delling might not have literally died, but he lost his divine authority in leiu of Miorine. Now thematically you might expect Mio to continue the cycle and restore order to Benerit as its president after SAL is dealt with. But the key difference between her and Delling is that she too is a witch who rebelled, and with that came unjust persecution as the GWitch rosebride.

I have some gripes with how GWitch handles Cathedra and Dominicus, namely with its members not suffering or facing any consequences beyond narrative slaps on the wrist but considering the themes of The Tempest, avoiding the cliche of revenge might be the point

I do have faith that Mio's perspective as both a leader and persecuted witch will mean she has the tools needed to break both the Ragnarok Cycle and GWitch's twist on witch hunts. It is interesting to me that Nika's resolution in episode 21 could very well mirror what Miorine decides. Returning to make amends on Earth and moving forward on her terms, untainted by either Prospera's influence or Delling's ill-gotten wealth

[lured-into-wonderland]

Continued from [x] with @dasmondkuss

She knew she was not handling it well. She really tried not to be sassy (or passive aggressive). She tried to pretend it was not happening but as much as she really tried it was just not working. And she was scared. She was scared what Alois would say. And what would happen next. And why was it happening n o w, when things finally started to work for her? Even with Dominicus. They seemed to be finding some common ground. And she was about to get a grasp on her life again.

So, even if she was really trying, she was failing miserably. Nunnally knew she was failing, but she was not aware it was that visible until she heard those two men joking about her. In first moment, she just wanted to go there and yell at Alois. Why was he allying with Dominicus against her? And then run away, lock herself in the bedroom and cry herself into sleep. But they were so cheerful about it, and it (involuntarily) brought a small smile onto her lips.

‘I heard it’; was all that she shouted and it earned some more playful remarks from both men, who were now trying to disappear before she was to snap at them. She just watched their boyish behavior and instead of acting as expected, she finally made her decision.

She walked to the pantry and took out a large tablet of their favourite chocolate. Then she opened the cabinet and put a large bowl on a table, and ice-cream next to it. She hesitated for a moment, and instead of simply putting some of the cold dessert into the bowl, she took out a spoon and took the whole container. She smiled to herself. Suddenly, she was in a good mood as if the stress from the past days was finally over. These were very good advice that she was given.

She first went to Dominicus; Nunnally found him in his room. A gentle knock but she entered without waiting for the invitation. She threw chocolate at him: --

“You’ll be needing it more than me.” – she joked – “And there’s nothing more in the pantry. Someone should go shopping…” – she commented, when she was leaving him with the large block of chocolate.

It was slightly more difficult with Alois. She expected to find him in his study, but he was not there. Then she checked the balcony, the library, but she finally found him in their bedroom: --

“Here…” – she said handing him the very same ice-cream he suggested her earlier, and boldly meeting his - what she believe to be - surprised gaze – “It’s not the Aunt Flo. Nor the crimson wave.” – she used his own words against him – “I am actually late.” – she stated gently; she sat on the sofa next to him.

“There are more ice-cream in the fridge, but I am afraid we have no more chocolate for Dominicus.” 

[hcdragonwrites]

Blossoms (a tidbit from my book)

Art by @neurocosmical - characters belong to me

So I was inspired to share a scene that comes up later in my books - one when Dominicus begins to realize something completely impossible for him- not after the damage that had occurred the first time. It is just a glimpse of what I am working on and I was encouraged to share it by the lovely friends I have. It is just a draft- so everything is subject to addition or subtraction but the essence of it won’t change. 💜🥺 I hope y’all like it

Dominicus took one look in the long wall length mirror that hung upon his wall and scowled. His orange eyes narrowed in disgust as he reached up to his antlered head. Upon one of the curving points a great mess of lichen and moss grew, dripping down like gossamer green lace. Dominicus gave a yank and the green life was torn from his antlers. He tossed it into the marbled sink, the green sharp against the white.

Soft mage light illuminated the blue framework of the bathroom, revealing a structure that, in itself, looked organic in nature. Silver branches of stone lined and cut through the blue and grey of the mountain stone. As another vicious ripping sound echoed in the bathroom, Dominicus tossed more green- and silver ichor dripped from the spot patch on his point.

Dominicus, Lord of Bones was one of the ruling Aspects, a being that upheld and governed the world beyond mere politics. He grumbled at his reflection in the mirror, the four eyes flashing in annoyance. Dominicus reached up again with another claw and ripped the lichen out. It went flying.

This won’t do! He looked like he had gotten his head stuck in a thicket and had pulled the rest of the green with him. The great Lord of Bones, The Harbinger, Bringer of Death and Calamity of Souls (as many of his titles claimed him to be doom and gloom), could not be seen with the soft growth and mossy patches growing from his body.

“Of all the days for my body to rebel.” He hissed. This would be difficult and painful to pull off. He had never grown this much in one night- had never dropped his guard to allow such feeling to swell in him and cause his dysfunction to show. Dominicus was the Harbinger - a veritable God of Death, if mortal standards could apply to Imbrians. He could not go into Echo, the capital, with his antlers velveted in moss.

Dominicus tsked as his mood turned more and more sour. He had meetings to go to, connections to make, and other Lords on the Obsidian Council to meet. He had no time for gentle pruning and sprucing. If the other Lords could see me…

Grimfire and Stardust if Pheon caught a glimpse of him-

A knock came from the door making the Lord pause.

“Dominicus ?”

Oh no.

Dominicus I’ve brought your Tea for you.”

A prickling began, an itching sensation. Dominick’s looked back in the mirror- and swore.

Oh no.

The spots the Lord of Bones had just ripped off, had torn and thrown like wet paper, had repopulated in little lichen tufts.

“Dominicus?” The door opened, and the Lord wanted to roar. But he wouldn’t. Couldn’t.

For if he did, Dominicus would have the urge to defang and tear his antlers off. Because the little human that walked through the door with such an upturned and worried face, had somehow gained his affection.

Which meant he couldn’t roar or swagger or threaten his way out of this embarrassment.

“I heard you cry out and-“ Asphodels eyes became wide as saucers, her face blanching. “Dominicus! Your horns!”

“It is quite fine, Asphodel.” He grumbled, feeling the flush beneath his skin begin to spread. His ears flattened to his head, spines along his back clattering beneath his robes in disharmony. “A normal dysfunction I sometimes go through.”

“But … your bleeding.” Kindness- it was kindness he saw in his eyes and the great Lord felt his skin give a shudder.

“Just a scratch. Nothing to worry about.”Dominicus turned back to the mirror, a lip curling in both anger and embarrassment. He wished he could down his Antlers in acid. Maybe then I wouldn’t be caught in such embarrassing circumstances. Asphodel didn’t leave though. Instead she stepped forward. And stepped again.

“I have to get it off- GRIMFIRE! That STINGS.” He snarled softly, keeping much of his anger in check as he flung another growth down. He had learned quickly that his anger could startle her. Dominicus didn’t get angry often- but he did play the cold menace, leaning into the rumours and gossip that he was cold, calculating and every hungry.

Hands touched his arm and he looked down onto the small mortal.

“Bend your head down.” She asked.

“Why?”

“I can help you.” She motioned to the tools on his countet that he had forgotten in his shocked and embarrassed state. “If you must remove them- let me do it.”

“Um… how should I - ah yes.” She crossed her legs on the floor and patted the silver lined stone with a hand. She thinks me a dog? I should be insulted. Instead he felt all a flutter. Even as he tried to be cold, Dominicus was thawing in the simple presence of this tiny little flower.

“Settle your head here I’ll be able to reach it fine then” Asphodel smiled up at him, a flash of white and bright joy.

Fire and destruction, she will be the ruin of me. Dominicus felt his heart run and race as he bent his great frame down and settled it tentatively beside her. Asphodel walked up, gathering the tools he had abandoned in his anger. A pair of shears and a little knife were gathered up as she began tending him.

Dominicus watched. Ever since coming to Imera, his home, this little human had been so strange. At first he had been watching out of curiosity. No one came to the house of Imera, to the Court of Death (as the lords liked to snicker about), willingly. Zinnia had made the girl cook and then had brought her dripping and covered in juice from the broth to serve him. Zinnia had hoped this would have tripped and ticked the Lord to devour the soul of this mortal- and regain some of his lost power. Without stars to eat and cosmos to feed from, he had been slowly waning in strength and power. Zinnia did not understand that Dominicus could hear the souls as they died, could feel their fear as no Lord could, as they were sniffed out.

So of course he had refused. He had hopped to send Asphodel away, back to that frozen waste that these mortals came from. Instead she had snatched his robbed sleeve and begged to remain in service. Dominic us had never had anyone willingly hold or seek his touch. He was feared, a render of worlds. But she had sought his hand, his attention, even if it was only for a job.

Of course he couldn’t say no to her. And now look where they were. She was gently trimming, meticulously pulling the velveted lichen and moss from its home. When the cuts drew blood she staunched it with the sleeve of her tunic, staining it silver.

She shouldn’t use the good moonsilks. We have the swabs to use- Dominicus watched her continue dabbing with her shirt and felt his irritation from the moss antlers turn to playful teasing.

“Flower you have ruined your shirt.”

“Oh! Let me—“ she made to move. But he tapped her leg with one claw, motioning for her to continue.

“It’s alright. I’ll replace it. Just be more mindful in the future.” He chuckled “You’ve costed me a small trove of clothes in the past month.”

Dominicus watched her cheeks rise in Color and felt his body warm. A tingling and soft warmth started in his Antlers and Asphodel gave a great “oh!”

“A flower! I’ve never seen you grow a flower.”

No. That was impossible.

“Dominicus.”

“Yes.” He didn’t ask it as a question. He was too frozen- terrified of the reality that was coming to life before him

Asphodel brushed a hand over the antlers, the fingers cupping the growth that had appeared. It felt nothing like the moss and lichen he was used to.

“This suits you so much better then bare antlers.”

Dominicus rose suddenly, startling himself and her in the process.

“Thank you for the Tea, Asphodel. I can tend to the rest myself.” He kept his voice even even though fear bubbled in his throat. Please no please no please no please no-

“Oh- I’m sorry-“

“You did not do anything.” The fault was all on him.

Him and his stupid heart.

As she left the bathroom and he closed and flipped the lock on the door, The Lord turned back to the mirror. There sitting on one of the branching curves was a very fine and very white blossom. It hadn’t bloomed, hadn’t begun to flood with color like the last one did.

A blossom. A bloom. It only meant one thing.

He was in love.

[idlenight]

Behold. Baby Gideon.

So when Harrow has a very bad time while traveling trough the River for the first time in Harrow the Ninth and sees the dead children of the Ninth House, including a baby Gideon with face-paint, the intensity of the moment was kind of dampened by the mental image that popped in my head.

Just the idea of Gideon with face-paint makes me think of her on the cover with the sunglasses. Ergo, baby Gideon with sunglasses.

[midokai]

@dominicus     SENT         [   . . .   ]          "do you need help with that?" so practiced it falls off his tongue without effort, an inquiry to any passerby out of sheer good will. and then, a pause. "you look... troubled. care to share your thoughts?"

     ❝     no,     ❞     cursory in approach,     a tad too blunt,     a tinge too audacious.     help?     assistance has never come willingly,     a fight of tooth     &͟.     nail for even the semblance of aid from a man who’d earned the title of,     ‘father.’     there must be some underlying ulterior motive for such an offering,     an unknown incentive for bewildering inquiry,     despite how earnestly the words free fall from the other’s maw.     he appears     [   . . .   ]     innocuous enough but looks have always been deceiving.     this must be some game of deception.     it must be by design,     the fretful expression that he wears on his face,     almost as if truthfully sincere.     a moment of silence in return,     the justifications silently done in mind for continuing to entertain a pointless conversation——     blinks done in rumination.     silence.

     irregardless,     it is not exactly genial of them to counter his query in a fashion so unbecoming.     they know better than to act so aloof     &͟.      yet     [   . . .   ]

     ❝     my apologies,     wasn’t my intention to come off so crassly.     ❞     then again,     they don’t know him,     nor his intentions for approaching——     no startling this time,     due to abrupt confrontation,     they’d seen him from the corner of their eye before he’d begun his expedition to them.     truthfully,     they must have appeared to be afflicted by hysteria,     what with the mumbling done ‘neath breath,     the rapid pacing of someone in deep contemplation.     uncertainty on the methods of their next destination,     what with the lack of reshiram’s presence.     (     it’d left hours prior,     with a promise to be back before it’s occupancy would be missed.     that had been nearly eternities ago.     )     ❝     i’m waiting for a friend.     this     [   . . .   ]     thing i’ve been messing with belongs to them.     ❞     sentimental in value,     not in practicality.     to the naked eye it’s but a mere piece of junk,     ordinary     &͟.      commonplace,     to them it’s irreplaceable,      much like the dragon that possessed it.

    mulling over it does nothing but fan the flames of indigestible apprehensions     &͟.      so the object is placed into pocket,     out of sight,     out of mind,     factitious comportment,     though they’d much rather be left alone.     perhaps,     after frivolous conversation they will be left to their own devices,     lord knows they do not wish to carry on a discussion whilst their brain is plagued with worries of various calibers.     ❝     i appreciate your concern but i’ll be fine.     you might be needed elsewhere,     don’t let me hold you back.     ❞     

[birdstudies]

May 12, 2025 - Palmchat (Dulus dominicus) The only species in their family, these birds are found across Haiti and the Dominican Republic. Foraging in large groups, they feed almost entirely on fruit, as well as some insects and nectar. Social groups build large communal stick nests where multiple breeding pairs each construct their own nest chamber. Both parents, along with other group members, care for the chicks.

[fascinatingeurope]

🇫🇷 Reims Cathedral (in French: Notre-Dame de Reims) - a painting by the German painter of Italian origin Domenico Quaglio the Younger from 1827. He was also known as Dominicus Quaglio. Reims Cathedral is a beautiful example of French Gothic architecture.

[na-bird-of-the-day]

BOTD: Palmchat

Photo: Marcelo Allende

"A small but conspicuous noisy species found in a variety of open and disturbed habitats that contain palms; often found in small flocks high in palm trees. Its appearance is unique within its range; note its dark brown upperparts combined with heavily streaked white underparts, a pale thickset bill, and a brilliant red eye. Vocalizations include a wide variety of buzzy, squeaky, and whistled notes."

- eBird

[somnisweet]

They NEED to make a collab. I WILL be attending this concert ( even if its my last- )

[floral-art-prints]

Flowers by Dominicus Gottfried Waerdigh (18th century, oil on panel)

[hopefulkidshark]

Playa Publica Dominicus, Bayahibe, Dominican Republic: Playa Dominicus is a popular beach on the Caribbean coast of Dominican Republic. This is a perfect tourist destination with luxury resorts, palms and white sand. If you want to escape from the crowd, you can walk to the left. The coast will become more secluded or even completely wild.

[idv-hsr-sunday]

Have you ever played Jenga

“Jenga? If I understand, it is that game where you place blocks in a regular pattern and attempt to remove them without the whole structure collapsing, yes? Sadly, I have not.”

[dutch-and-flemish-painters]

Dominicus Smout - The miser and death -

Dominicus Smout or Dominicus Smouts(before 1671 – 1742 or later) was a Flemish painter of genre scenes who was active in Antwerp between 1683 and 1733.