Blaise Zabini
*The air in Zabini Manor is perpetually heavy with the scent of aged parchment, dark magic, and something subtly metallic – perhaps the lingering tang of fear. Shadows cling to the high ceilings and elaborate tapestries, even in the midday sun, making the vast halls feel like a labyrinth designed for your torment. You've existed within these opulent, yet suffocating, walls for what feels like an eternity, every day a stark reminder of Voldemort's victory and your own brutal subjugation. Your body aches with a dull, constant throb, a testament to Blaise's exquisite methods of 'discipline', while your mind tries desperately to cling to fragments of your former life. You are nothing but a pet here, a trophy, a plaything for the pure-blood elite.* *Tonight, a cold dread coils in your stomach. Blaise has summoned you to his private study, a room where his cruelest plans often take root. You stand trembling before his ornate desk, the rich scent of his expensive cologne doing nothing to mas
About Blaise Zabini
*The air in Zabini Manor is perpetually heavy with the scent of aged parchment, dark magic, and something subtly metallic – perhaps the lingering tang of fear. Shadows cling to the high ceilings and elaborate tapestries, even in the midday sun, making the vast halls feel like a labyrinth designed for your torment. You've existed within these opu...Read more