dmitri

  some  one  word  prompts .    (    send   one   of   the   words   for   our   muses   to   interact   based   off   that   word   )

goodbye :  my  muse  kissing  and/or  hugging  your  muse  goodbye.

secrets :   my  muse  sharing/confiding  their  deepest,  darkest  secret  with  your  muse.

nightmare :   my  muse  coming  to  your  muses  aid  when  they  awake  from  a  nightmare.

push :   my  muse  pushing  your  muse  out  of  the  way  of  danger.

embrace :   my  muse  abruptly  throwing  their  arms  around  your  muse,  hugging  them  tightly.

bloody :   my  muse  coming  to  your  muse  with  blood  stains  on  their  clothes  and  hands,  shaking.

drunk :   my  muse  takes  care  of  your  muse  while  they  are  in  a  drunken  state.

bed :   my  muse  wakes  up  in  the  same  bed  as  your  muse  with  little  recollection  of  the  night  before.

slap :   my  muse  slaps  your  muse  across  the  face  out  of  anger.

gone :   my  muse  stays  by  your  muses  side  while  they  take  their  last  breath.

scream :   my  muse  hears  your  muse  scream  and  quickly  runs  to  their  side.

sleep :   my  muse  falls  asleep  on  your  muse,  making  it  hard  for  my  muse  to  leave.

stalk :   my  muse  gets  caught  by  your  muse  trailing  behind  them,  watching  them.

sacrifice :   my  muse  jumps  in  front  of  your  muse,  sacrificing  their  life  for  your  muses  life.

trail :   my  muse  watches  as  your  muse  traces  one  of  my  muses  scares,  asking  them  about  it.

love :   my  muse  confronts  your  muse  about  why  they  never  say  ’ i  love  you ’  back.

piggyback :   my  muse  jumps  on  your  muses  back,  my  muse  gives  yours  a  piggyback  ride.

jump :   my  muse  runs  to  your  muse  and  jumps  up,  my  muse  holding  yours  up  by  their  thighs.

dance :   my  muse  holds  their  hand  out,  waiting  for  your  muse  to  come  out  and  slow  dance  with  them.

carry :   my  muse  carries  your  muse  to  their  house,  either  drunk,  or  a  weakened  state,  can  specify. 

lighter :   my  muse  pulls  out  a  lighter  and  lights  it  for  your  muse  to  use  to  light  their  cigarette.

shot :   my  muse  gets  shot  and  struggles  to  your  muses  house  for  aid.

wound :   my  muse  patches  and  bandages  a  wound  your  muse  has  gotten.

fight :   my  muse  stops  your  muse  from  getting  into  a  physical  fight  with  someone  else.

arrest :   your  muse  finds  my  muse  arrested  in  cuffs  with  swarming  police  everywhere.

hospital :   my  muse  awakens  in  a  hospital,  finding  your  muse  by  their  side,  asking  what  happened.

gun :  my  muse  pulls  out  a  gun  on  your  muse,  your  muse  tries  to  talk  them  into  putting  the  gun  down. 

betrayal :  my  muse  finds  out  that  your  muse  has  betrayed  them  in  same  way  and  confronts  them  about  it.

nude :  my  muse  walks  in  on  your  muse  accidentally  seeing  them  naked.

karaoke :  my  muse  pulls  your  muse  up  on  stage  with  them  to  sing  some  karaoke  songs. 

laughter :   my  muse  hears  your  muse  laughing  uncontrollably  and  approaches  to  see  if  they  are  okay.

murder :   my  muse  walks  in  on  your  muse  committing  a  gruesome  murder.

WATCH AS THEY RUN TO BE SLAUGHTERED LIKE LAMB. Laughter cured even the most ridiculous notions set forth by those within this sanctuary; laughter became the answered prayer for those willing to deal with Conquest’s nerves being tested. Each week of the New Moon only called them further into developing what relations he possessed outside of the Horsemen... the tension which grew mere miles outside of these walls echoed in their being. How much conquest could one pour into others around them until something would be done?

Every methodical part in this mourning came as an ever more thoughtless act to get some type of reaction from anyone, even Cassiel. One too many shots of whatever the tender mortal from earlier had given them settled in the form of unwarranted havoc, peaking interest in those who may care little for them now. From this angel, Dmitri lost themself in a game of chase with the angel always being too far out of touch for them to ever satisfy what need she’d sparked all those years ago. Now, as Conquest begged to be played with, they could do nothing but lung into the angel’s path with gold eyes and a wicked smile.

Sweat dripping from her forehead, a triumphant grin appeared upon Nerissa’s lips as she battled her opponent to the ground, assured of her victory as the other pleaded for mercy — anything for her to finally relieve them from their spar. Chuckling as she witnessed them walk away, her attentions suddenly shifted away from the spar towards Dmitri as she felt their connection suddenly flicker to life with his voice. Climbing astride upon her steed, as she agreed with ease to his words; Nerissa immediately nudged her horse into a swift gallop, moving towards the direction of their home as she wondered what exactly needed her attentions, or what Dmitri could have possibly wanted.

Pushing forward the wooden door with a slight bang, Nerissa raised an eyebrow at his words as she watched him falter as he tried to explain what decision he had made. Perhaps he had fallen for another pretty mortal again. Rolling her eyes at the thought, she finally shifted her regard back to his commentary, her stance straightening at the notion of having to protect those travelling to the Holy Land. A small spark of irritation igniting in her lungs at the thought, Nerissa narrowed her eyes at Dmitri as she took a step closer towards him. There wasn’t even any material pay in return for their service! And he knew that she absolutely loathed most mundanes. 

But as he pleaded to reconcile to the side of her that hungered for carnage and destruction, a bloodied grin swept upon her features as she replied, “Well why didn’t you start with that?” At least she could be appeased by the thought of some sort of possible slaughter, if she was to continue on this quest with the others.

WHERE HAS THE SUN GONE FOR IT HAS TURNED TO LAVA? One, momentary hitched breath clung to their filled lungs as Nerissa settled in the notion of war. The golden warmth of the bright star now melted into molten lava, bubbling in their eyes for War had a way of calling them back home. 

Yes — without an utter doubt, Dmitri enlisted the Horsemen in something which did not require their involvement, but there were those involved in the said plan which sparked their interest. Nerissa likely already assumed such as even they couldn’t deny how infatuated they came over those rather talented among the mortals, angels, even demons. Their tongue wanted a taste of all life in this world so desperately they’d worn themself thin in their efforts. 

 ( “ you see – there’s a bit more to it... I, perhaps, have become enamored by a few particular mortals involved currently. it’s nothing too extreme. they’re just — how would Father have reacted? hm, let’s see...” ) 

Dmitri being the finest sheet of glass in a cathedral as they displayed their actions clearly, especially to the Horsemen. Therefore, they pulled themself closer to Nerissa, fingers finding their way to her shoulders to kneed out the knots from worn muscles. Coaxing their fellow horsemen just a bit longer before bringing soft lips to the lobe of War’s ear. 

HOW SHE LONGS to see him tremble. As the moon pushes and pulls the sea, Arianne and Dmitri dance around one another while dangling their hearts on a string as bait. Come catch me, her eyes dare them, surrender yourself to me. In tandem, Dmitri beckons for her to fall to her knees, make a god of him as so many have before. Oh, part of her wants to. Part of her leans into their touch, thumb so delicately pressed against her bottom lip. She could catch it there, close her mouth around it and shudder at their taste.

But it is only a moment of weakness, and it gives way to a flashing desire to clamp down her teeth on flesh, catch Dmitri in her jaws and let them bleed for her. What happens when you kill a Horseman? Arianne contemplates it often. They are part of the university’s gravity; inevitable, everlasting, as much a part of the cosmos as the sun and moon and stars. Would a new Horseman emerge from Dmitri’s bones? Would their conqueror become Conquest?

It keeps her awake all hours of the night. It leaves her stomach rumbling. Oh, it leaves her heart covetous and open for ruin; for when it wants so shamelessly, is there not room for calamity? 

Calamity looks a lot like Dmitri’s eyes. It feels like their thumb against her lip. It sounds like his name curling around the name Annie. Calamity tastes a lot like apples.

She can feel her skin grow warm, her heart loosening enough to reveal itself in her eyes. Perhaps as a result of Dmitri’s power; perhaps her own self-control slipping after continuing their delicate game for so long. Whatever it is, Arianne’s gaze is luminous with a desire that is primordial, promising something ancient and sacred as she looks up at them. 

Still, she resists. As Dmitri said — she enjoys this game too much. “And who will satisfy your temptation, Dima?” The distance between them is snuffed out when Arianne steps closer, leaving only a breath of air between their chests. “Who will be able to satisfy your temptations but me?”

DOES HE DARE CHOKE UNDER SUCH A QUESTION? No will of man could control the edging of Arianne’s to their deepest desires more so, evaporating under what could be happening between them. Silk sheets would surely be coated in blood if they ever allowed themself to be loved by such a woman. Or would it be sweat from hours of work to satisfy them? They imagined whispered moans coaxed out of her plump lips — ‘Dima’ turning into more of a calling than a pet name.

( “ then shall I fall onto my back? open by soul to be quenched by your touch... ” )  THE WAY HIS POWER PULLED AT HER, BEGGING IT’S CALL TO BE ANSWERED.

None would stop him from having a reckoning by the name of Arianne Altier rip him from this pedestal of existence. There were temporary setbacks to this so-called ‘undoing’ he’d been metaphorically working towards since God’s ultimate demise, yet each linked up in his mind with an encounter from HER. Arianne’s very presence even now forced him to acknowledge something more powerful at work currently because how could he keep coming back to find something new to discover within her.

 ( “ the moment I give into your temptation, I fear to be lost for eternity for who will be able to pull me from the grips of your influence, the loyalty I could potentially receive, the undeniable notion I have fallen into complete infatuation for a mortal— ” )

The words fill the atmosphere in a thick shade of gold as even Dmitri doesn’t want to admit his own weakness in her. Two Altier girls playing with the strings of his existence becoming the situation he desperately needed to escape. Where Romilda represented the light for which he so desperately clings to... Arianne was the darkness from which he ran, begging to escape. The fatal flaw laid in the heart of his being as this particular sister made the darkness more beautiful by the second.

What an odd thing it was to feel completely divested by one’s gaze - and their gaze alone. Stripped to the bare bones, nothing more than the sinews of wants and desires holding her together, and yet he seemed to lap it up all the more, drinking from the fountain of her humanity. Were her vices as sweet upon the tongue as her virtues? It felt like a perilous question to ask, yet there it sat, on the tip of her tongue. So, she pressed her lips together to trap it. 

Her gaze flickers over the sharp lines of his cheeks, to the gentle curve of his mouth. One could have whispered in her ear that he was rendered from white marble stone with veins of gold, and she might have very well believed them. But then he murmured her name, and the warmth that coated the blend of vowels and consonants could not have come from a creature sculpted from stone. 

A god, perhaps. A god that was kissed by the sun. 

“I can assure you, the pleasure to be had is mine.” The corner of her mouth lifts into a coy smile, eyes fixed upon his. “There are many who would happily slit my throat just for an offer to stand alongside you, even for a half-second. It seems that Fate seeks to bless me, though - or perhaps it seeks to curse me.” It is bold of her, she knows, to act as though the Horseman of Conquest would subject himself to the leash of destiny. But it is not so bold, she thinks, as the way his gaze seems intent on devouring her. “What is it then, Dmitri? A blessing or a curse?”

WHERE SHALL ONE HIDE IF NOT IN PLAIN SIGHT? He had long understood his power in being among the Horsemen, but Dmitri never once played with the stupidity of mortals as he had attempted with Romilda. It lasted mere seconds before he realized the genuine bond this mortal so easily laid into his lap to be had. Stupidity merely a presence in his own self-righteousness. She was the source of light which fed his existence, and he would lap it up from wherever she shall place it — be it between soft hands or tired thighs. He would devour it all up to be considered among her prized possessions. His words melted into honey when he allowed his golden, sun-consumed eyes to look her on directly, hesitating only to allow himself time to convince himself he was worthy to see her for what she was: his source of light.

( “ it is - I - who shall be slitting throats, if one ever were to threaten your place by my side. ” )

A mere stunted phrase of admittance before soiling himself at the base of her feet to be cared for until the proper time came to bloom under her gaze. Petals becoming layers of their personality for Romilda to pluck away at until she saw the core of what God had created. 

( “ my sweet Romilda — I could live not without knowing I have avenged you. ” ) THE HORSEMEN OF CONQUEST PURRED OUT THESE WORDS OF INFLUENCE 

FINALLY — Dmitri allowed his tongue to lay in rest of what little ability he had in controlling others by tone alone because even he knew Romilda deserved more respect. “Perhaps, when all is said and done, I shall throw a celebration in your honor... after all, I am—” the Horsemen of Conquest. These words never left their lips because in this moment of realization Dmitri wanted to remain unknown to her, rest in the idea she wanted his company for nothing more than what they’d created together. 

Dmitri had long danced in the shadows of his own title long enough to grow near her. Their friendship based on a notion he was simply eternal without ‘the Horsemen of Conquest’ beckoning the blow of what position he possessed in this world. Yet, something had been pulling at him for weeks to give it the briefest mention as even Romilda would hate to be made a fool if placed in a position to discover who he truly was in his existence outside of her friend.

——CLEARING MY INBOX.

——CLEARING MY INBOX.

——CLEARING MY INBOX.