#self:dominic

[gravitysrainbow-1x1]

Missing

@themonstrous​

Dissatisfaction. 

No better word could describe the state of Dominic’s empty soul better. He craved, and he craved, but little could fill the giant, gaping hole that burrowed deep into his heart. Something was missing - a key element to making him feel complete. It was on the tip of his tongue, always an inch within his grasp but still out of his reach.

 At first, he’d thought his perpetual craving was a result of his imprisonment of millennium. Only a small handful memories had survived the countless years; moments his rage could never let go of, replaying them so many times in his mind that they eroded the sweeter memories of his past. 

An exotic wood table detailed with sacred mountain images, cranes and clouds, and flowers broken on pieces on the floor. 

The sleeves of an elegant, silk paoshin robe splattered with blood.

A ceremonial teapot smashed against the wall.

Distant screams.

Only a far wall mirror ornate with jade dragons let him watch the final moments his host fade from the world as he was sucked back into the confinements of his mirror.

After searching and searching museums to identify the time period of the brief instances that boiled in his mind, he found near identical similarities in Chinese culture. The Song Dynasty had not been kind to him. Zhao Kuangyin - emperor of the Song Dynasty - had come to power with him, but it was his exposure of his weaknesses without him that lead to both of their end. While now-Dominic slept, Taizong - his younger brother - murdered him and locked away Dominic’s possessed mirror with strong talismans.

A millennium was a long time to be alone.

It made it easy to justify his insatiable needs. Dominic had been starved of life, and now his existence was driven to live every second of it. As he explored the new and strange modern world, he did as he pleased. But quickly, he found himself dissatisfied with simply living extravagantly and wildly. The craving still lingered, like a heavy cloud fogging his ability to fully enjoy life. Something was missing.

Second, he thought perhaps he longed the memories his rage and time had robbed him of. He recalled the strong, vibrant feeling of being in countless battles - a broad sword fitting so comfortably into his hands that it was like an extension of his very being. But when he tried to recall more, there was a block. Strong emotions would wash over him, but he could not stir up more than that. 

When he could, he searched museum after museum tirelessly, walking at a fast pace as he scanned weapons, armor, wardrobes, and paintings throughout history to look for anything he recognized. He’d missed the renaissance era - which was a shame - he would have had so much fun then - but many relics of the past as far back as middle ages, to ancient history with the Greeks, Romans and Egyptians had an air of familiarity about them.

The moment he’d laid eyes on a broadsword he recognized, he arranged for a thief to acquire it for him.

So much searching, but still, he could not fill his craving. Something was missing. It was an itch he could not scratch, a hunger he could not satiate, and he could find it nowhere in the world.

Something was missing, and the way he’d stare off into the distance, puzzling over the unsolvable emptiness, shared his perpetual dissatisfaction loudly to anyone who happened to look his way at the right moment. 

Something was missing, and he’d do anything to find it.

[gravitysrainbow-1x1]

@themonstrous​

Darkness.

It smothered his lungs like ash and soot. It swallowed him whole. When he was in it, he was nothing. He ceased to exist. He couldn’t scream, couldn’t yell. His voice locked up inside of him like lost treasure sunken to the bottom of the sea.

Only glimpses of the world materialized before his eyes, springing him back into existence briefly, but often only to be met by the challenging glare of his own face looking back at him. Willing him to submit with the fury and fire in his gaze until he subverted his stare and lowered his eyes to the ground.

There were times when Dominic would look at his own reflection, only to see if Sebastian was looking. Looking at his life, looking at his prize. He would show him what was his, and tightly grasp onto it to prove his point and send the message home.

Sebastian was dead to the world. Only Dominic lived.

He tried to be patient. Patiently waiting the moment that Dominic’s grip on him would loosen, as it always did, after an extended period of time. Whatever magics that willed the malevolent mind into his existence always seemed to make sure of that. Dominic was not all powerful. He had limitations of the flesh, and had to sleep and rest. It was then that his iron grip would loosen, and Sebastian could leap back into the world, if only for awhile.

He wanted to see Rian again, if nothing else. He just had to be patient. He just had to be patient.

That thought whispered in his head again and again until the moment finally came. It took weeks this time before Dominic was finally forced to stop, and Sebastian shuddered to wonder the lengths he had gone to stay awake towards the end of it.

Sebastian’s eyes sprung open wide, jutting up from the single mattress he laid on, his hands grasping at his neck as he struggled to breathe again as he was thrust back into the world. But, something was wrong. The world was dark, and dim. Small. He was in a tiny room, only big enough to fit a mattress. As his eyes adjusted to the low light, he noticed a small fridge nestled into the wall of the room near the door where a keypad lock faced inside.

Immediately, Sebastian panicked, jumping up from the bed and rushing the door. He grabbed at the doorknob but it didn’t budge. Locked. He knelt down to the key pad and tried various number combinations to try to unlock it, but every attempt triggered a bright red light to flash in his face.

“No -- no, no, no,” Sebastian muttered fearfully, looking around the dim room now for any other option, but his eyes trained on something moving. The walls were lined with mirrors, and immediately opposite him, he saw his oppressor wearing his skin starring smugly at him through the glass. 

There was anger on his face that he’d never seen before. He didn’t know that he was even capable of looking so angry, and it chilled him to the bone, lifting the hair on the back of his neck and down his forearms. Before Sebastian could speak, his reflection’s face twisted into violent rage as he reeled back onto his back foot and threw his first at the mirror. A crack splintered through the glass despite no physical contact being made. The walls shook, and Sebastian fell back onto the floor, startled and afraid. 

“You shouldn’t have done what you did,” his reflection said, his own mouth only moving to frown in distress. Dominic glared at him, the dimness in the room casting shadows around his features in a way that made him look almost hellish and dead inside. “I tried to be kind to you, and you spat in my face by trying to get rid of me. Despite that, I gave you a space to paint and you’d never have to worry about food or shelter again if you just stayed put and minded your place -- but you spat on that kindness too, didn’t you?”

Sebastian starred at him, eyes wide and misty under the pressure and fear tightening his chest. “This is my body, I -- I get to decide what to do,” he tried to yell back at his reflection unconvincingly, but it prompted it to bellow with laughter.

“Your body? You gave up rights long ago. This is my body now. I make the decisions, and I decided that you’ll be waking up in here where I can keep you from interfering with my work, my life, and my lover,” Dominic hissed at him, his voice growing louder as he hit the sore subject that had been his last straw, sealing the deal on Sebastian’s fate.

“You can’t -- you can’t do that-” Sebastian started, but Dominic quickly interrupted him. “But I already have. Give it up. Give up control to me and we won’t have to be in here,” he paused, correcting himself, ”I won’t have to be in here stuck with you. You’ll be nothin’, but I promise you, that’s better than the alternative of being stuck here with me.”

“I’ll make every moment your eyes are open a living hell. You can count on that.”

Sebastian snatched his eyes shut to make him disappear, the motion making the tears in his eyes escape down his cheeks. He slid to the ground in his despair, doing everything he could to keep his eyes closed. Anywhere he could look in the room there was a mirror. 

The longer he kept his eyes closed, the more he realized he was in darkness again. The same kind of darkness as when he was trapped inside of his own head, but now, he was trapped in his own body and there were no glimpses of sunlight, no brief flashes of Rian’s handsome face and glittering smile to get him through.

[gravitysrainbow-1x1]

@scasonofthevvitch​

Angry didn’t begin to cut it.

Fury wasn’t strong enough of a word.

Rage was an understatement.

When Dominic opened his eyes, he’d expected to see the usual surroundings: a cafe that Sebastian had finally dozed off at (after trying to overdose on caffeine) or an art museum that he’d linger at. Hell, even a park bench or behind some trash cans would have been more acceptable of an environment to wake up at than his lover’s bedroom when he had not been the one to bring him to bed.

A shadow hung over Dominic’s furrowed brow as he sat on the edge of the bed, starring straight ahead while he entertained how many ways he could grind Sebastian’s soul into a fine ash in his head. He’d already caused enough problems for him by simply revealing that he existed at all -- right at the cusp of Dominic’s near victory over his body. Had he minded his place, his plan would have executed flawlessly and Rian would be happy that he’d get more time with him, as he promised. Now he had to entertain him with more lies than would have been necessary. More time, however, he would still deliver on. He was hellbent on that.

Dominic sneered at the grey hoodie that Sebastian had been wearing, suppressing the urge to groan at the man’s poor man’s clothing preferences. He made a mental note to leave a button down shirt and freshly pressed pants at Rian’s. Even one of his rare, but more casual attire would look be infinitely more preferable than the hoodie, jacket, jeans and sneakers. He reached into the pocket of the jeans and pulled out his leather money clip to find the $500 dollars he remembered having now gone. His fake ID thrown away. “Bastard,” he couldn’t help but mutter to himself under his breath, but refrained from speaking out loud further, thinking to himself, ‘You had $500 dollars, and you clearly spent 20$ on clothes from a damn thrift store. What the fuck did you spend the rest on? Coffee?’

Admittedly, as he thought about it in correlation to how physically tired their body felt, that was a possibility. 

After he finished putting on the clothes, he glanced back at Rian, his anger directed at him now. His hands clenched the edge of the bed hard enough to threaten breaking the seam. Dominic knew that he could not control Rian - not completely - but this... He was insulted. He’d slept with the lesser of the two, validating his existence and giving him worth he did not deserve in Dominic’s eyes.

When Rian turned over in the bed, Dominic froze for a moment to avoid waking him. He frowned briefly as he watched him sleep, annoyed at himself for the ache he felt over this beautiful man.

Grabbing the shoes from the floor, he quietly snuck out before the sun came up and Rian woke up. His sick brother was fickle, unreliable and unpredictable, after all.