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‘ ... dimitri ? ’

𝐇 𝐄 𝐄 𝐗 𝐈 𝐒 𝐓 𝐒 𝐋 𝐀 𝐓 𝐄 𝐋 𝐘 : 𝐀 𝐒 𝐓 𝐀 𝐓 𝐔 𝐓 𝐄 𝐖 𝐇 𝐄 𝐑 𝐄 𝐀 𝐌 𝐀 𝐍 𝐒 𝐇 𝐎 𝐔 𝐋 𝐃 𝐁 𝐄 . body still , feet planted firmly on the floor before the rubble where the presence of a goddess was said to be felt / her grace existing in the walls and altars and empty spaces for the sole purpose of being bestowed prayer upon prayer and he wonders if that was ever true , if the goddess or her divine vessel truly cared for the meager problems of humanity enough so to sit in these holy halls and listen / listen / listen . ━━━━━ but never answer . and perhaps that’s what most laughable in the most bitter , frustrating of ways ; they were promised that their words were being heard , never that anything would come from it . he , too , had believed in a fate that believed in him , a goddess observing with a love only the divine could begin to understand and with hands clasped and head bowed he found again , and again , and again ━━━━━ silence , the echo of his own thoughts .

it is only now that he has realized the futility of it , prayer and faith and once he’d wondered if they existed at all , those whom are said to have shaped this world and now the question is only why he should care one way or another . he does not pray here , not anymore , still and silent and staring with an emptiness in his eyes that only reflects how he feels toward the monastery and its teachings as a whole . but he does speak , in his mind , not worship but monologues and lamentations , cold and angry and challenging / if she exists let her smite him , he thinks , let her rise from the rumble of this decrepit building and rip the soul from his body , prove she is anything other than a fairy tale / a coward’s tether / a reminder that naivety existed in him , too , once .

“ dimitri . “ her . soft voice / soft footsteps / how gentle this woman is for all the blood she has spilled since her hands were sturdy enough to grasp the hilt of a blade and truthfully he is not yet convinced she is not another ghost , her body lost to the gaping maw of the earth and her soul to return to him , watching / observing / waiting for his next mistake to reach within his chest and twist whatever she may find within . “ it’s late . wouldn’t you be more comfortable in bed ? ”

❛ leave me . ❜ is the response he gives , back turned to his former professor and gaze fixed steadily ahead . once , he’d relished in her company / face to light up at the thought of what he could learn from her ; now he wishes only for her removal from his presence , skin crawling with the sensation of her eyes resting upon the fur of his robe . she was always unnerving , he thinks , but it was tolerable before ; now ? now he imagines ripping the eyes from her skull if only to force her to cease looking at him .

silence . cold and empty and for a moment he believes , perhaps , she plans to obey .

“ if you come with me , i’ll go . ” her voice is closer now and his eye shifts within its socket in the direction of where the sound comes from ; his right , she stands but a few sparse feet away looking / looking / looking and it’s sort of funny , how if a goddess does exist he could almost imagine them as the woman beside him . the thought isn’t comforting / it isn’t soft . ❛ it was not a request . you are not wanted here . ❜ “ ... what will you do , if i stay ? ”

and it sounds like a challenge .

his head turns toward her now , finally , a coldness reflected somewhere in the apathy he wears so often now as he stares down at her / small , so small , so deceptively fragile looking and he knows she could kill him , if she truly desired it . he knows he could snap her spine into pieces if he were quick enough .

❛ what reason have you to pester me ? should you not be sleeping as well , professor ? ❜ “ my students come first . ” ❛ i am no longer your student , nor will you treat me as though i am . ❜ “ ... there are bags under your eyes . ” ❛ i will tell you again to leave me . ❜ “ dimitri , please ━━ ” & she is reaching , lithe fingers curling themselves ‘round his shoulder and something snaps ( has been snapped / snapping / he is swinging from the frayed edges and the ravine beneath him looks so peaceful ) and he is turning , whipping around to grab her by the throat / a rag doll in his grasp , it’s a wonder this woman has survived anything , has lived this long , and it is taking every ounce of strength he has not to squeeze tighter as he presses her up against a nearby pillar , her feet dangling / fingers clutching at his wrist .

she doesn’t look angry / she barely looks scared . mostly , she looks apologetic ━━━━━ & it’s for something far deeper than simply refusing to leave his side .

❛ ━━ i told you to leave . i’ve no need to see you ; your presence is nothing but a nuisance here . ❜ he hisses , growls / teeth bared and fangs at - the - ready and he could crush her , he knows , and the only thing stopping him at present is ━━━━━

( “ ... dimitri ? ” choked out around the fingers he has dug into her throat , one hand leaving his wrist to instead press palm against his cheek , soft and gentle and she is staring , looking , with those eyes of hers / watching , waiting , knowing )

━━━━━ he thinks she would let him . he thinks she knows he can’t .

❛ ... get away from me . ❜ he commands again , releasing her from his grasp and allowing her body to fall / crumple upon the floor as she catches her breath and there is some small part of him that has not yet rotted away that is sorry . that wishes to kneel down , swear to her that he will never do such a thing again / a part of him that feels sick . the greater part of him , however , cannot afford that kind of softness & he turns from her once more , footsteps a quiet echo as dimitri walks away , step by step .

he can still feel her eyes on him .

#inexalt #✦ . * : what should you call the present when the past never left ━━ * verse ii .#asphyxiation -#choking -#assault -#ask to tag -#( strums guitar ) anyway here's wonderwall

“See you in Hell, commie.”

My friend, Tail Ring, brought up the concept of Bobby having the final straw with Mikhail, and trying his hardest to actually kill him one day. Maybe Coach Oleander allows them to set up a formal fight between them. Mikhail is itching for a good wrestling match, and Bobby is the perfect contender. But Bobby isn’t here for sport, he’s here for blood.

They plan on making this a fic sometime.

#psychonauts #mikhail bulgakov #bobby zilch #choking -#asphyxiation -#ask to tag idk #bb rambles #bb art