#f dostoevsky

[velvetyvoyage]

reader who has an ability where if they murder someone, they get the victims life span or smth. or a reader who has an ability similar to teruko's or fyodor's, that let's them live for however long they want.

fyodor who finds you in his every life and re-birth.

[tsuiioku]

Muse! I’m so proud of you for reaching 1k!

I’d like to request Cinnamon Rolls with Fyodor and the prompts “Consummation”, “First time” and “You’re mine” for the event ⸜( ˙˘˙)⸝ 

(If it’s ok, can it be the first time for both the reader and Fyodor? I’d love to read some virgin Fedya smut)

cinnamon roll order one — calliope’s confectionary

content. f!reader. not-safe for work, body worship, virginity loss, discussion of religion, overstimulation. not proofread. ⟶ features fyodor dostoevsky.

would you like to see more? fill out the taglist or comment under this post.

You should have known better than to fall for a Demon.

At least, that's what everyone told you.

Your relationship had been formed on fallible foundations, and no one could understand the reason you stood at the altar with no hesitation in your choices. But others did not need to be privy to the private affairs between you and your husband, whose piercing eyes, which concealed the secrets of the world, looked upon you with an infatuation that could only be found in a first love.

But you did not realize he would be so determined to consummate your newfound covenant; his stormy mind which lied rot in yearning, unsated from years of self-isolation from his own kind, never faltered at sharing such vulnerability, too tempted by the taste of yours.

"Ahn-! Fedya," you wept through pleasured tears. Despite him sharing in your lack of experience, he unraveled each layer of your being with practiced ease, prying each piece of your pliant body as if he were stripping a flower of its petals—only for him to touch and tease and worship.

He reveled in every whimper and moan that was excavated from your lips, a hum lying on his own as his heart brimmed with the greatest pleasure a man could know as he brought you to the edge. Over and over. And it was only once your eyes had clouded over for the nth time, distant as you grasped onto anything for stability, that his gaze softened, and he allowed himself to satiate his carnal urges.

"Ты моя." His prayerful whispers did not pardon the sinful manner in which he marked the canvas of your neck or the thirst in his voice as he found himself devoting his reverence not to God but to his wife. You could barely hear his desperate groans through the veil of your pleasure—as he, enamored by everything you so willfully encompassed, could no longer retain self-control.

After hundreds of years of searching for something, for someone to fulfill him, he had finally found you. It was in the afterglow of your union that you knew you had known better all along. Even though your mind was scattered into millions of pieces, you knew he would build you back to what you once were, as he would never destroy the one he claimed to be perfection reincarnate—forever his.

ты моя = you're mine.

TAGLIST: @imhandicapableofmath @ishqani @squigglewigglewoo @lovedazai @deepseafragments @osameowdazai @himikoslove @little-miss-chaoss @justcallmesakira @fyorina @ruru-kiss @yonseibananamilk

© MUSAMORA 2024 — do not repost or modify my works for any reason. do not steal graphics w/o explicit permission. reblogs are appreciated.

[ilovechuuy4]

˚ೀ⋆｡˚ I Have an Excellent Father, His Strength is Making Me Stronger!

BSD boy/girl dad HCS/reasoning

Warnings; girl dad I GUESS. (Why are y'all so upset with bsd girl dad's.

A/N: UGH THEY MAKE ME SICK IN A GOOD WAY ANYWAYS!! Do enjoy! Just a drabble before dazais bday post!!!

ADAˏˋ°•*⁀➷

N. Atsushi - Boy dad - It's not that he isn't a girl dad it's just he def is rough-housing, he would still play dress up etc if he was a girl dad but boy dad seems more accurate.

D. Kunikida - Girl dad - If he was a boy dad I fear he'd be so hard on the poor boy. Not saying Doppo won't be hard on his daughter but he'd def have a softer side.

O. Dazai - Girl dad ALL THE WAY - He's going to play dress up with her, tea parties, daddy-daughter dates etc etc he loves it all (also just don't think he can handle a little boy running around.)

Y. Fukuzawa - Girl AND Boy dad - Take that he hypothetically raised Yosano AND Ranpo just proves he's a big boy and girl dad, taking them out and having fun with them anywhere they'd like.

PORT MAFIAˏˋ°•*⁀➷

N. Chuuya - Girl dad - Daddy-Daughter dates, take your kid to work, daddy-daighter dances etc etc. Even though he's busy with his work he still want a to put time and effort to have fun with his kid.

P. Verlaine - Girl dad - He would let his kid basically play dress up with him. He'd let his kid put plastic tiaras and princess dressed on him. Let his daughter braid his hair and try to put those fake plastic highheels on that refuse to fit but his daughter would still try to make it work anyways.

R. Akutugawa - Boy dad - Making little monster trucks out of Rashomon so they can have little truck battles. Making little fits out of Rashomon too.

S. Oda - Both, leaning boy - Let's be serious, dazai and oda were father and son. Oda would be such a good dad. When it comes to being a boy dad he's gonna help his son with everything like when he hits puberty and doesn't now how to shave facial hair he'll help. When it comes to his daughter he's going to try understanding minstruals and any drama she's having.

S. Ango (former) - Girl dad - He definitely reads his kids bedtime stories regardless if they ask or not. He also let's them pull at his glasses just as long as they don't break them.

THE GUILDˏˋ°•*⁀➷

F. S. Fitzgerald - Girl dad - It's canon, literally. But he's definitely spoiling his daughter, toys, candy etc etc spoiling her to death (metaphorically)

E. A. Poe - Both leaning boy dad - He def wouldn't know how to give much attention to his child since he's all too focused on his novels.

H. P. Lovecraft - Girl dad - I feel like he wouldn't want kids take he might be scared they would be scared of him cause of his tentacles but if he would have had one, it would be a girl. They would def braid each other's hair.

J. Steinback - Both, leaning boy dad - I just couldn't see him being a girl dad though if he had a diaghter he would treat her just the same as if he had a son.

M. Twain - Both, leaning boy dad - I feel like Twain wouldn't care all too much but I feel like he'd enjoy teaching his son how the sniper works when his son gets older (not me saying girls can't learn how guns work)

DOAˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Bram S. - Girl dad - Hes definitely very protective over his daughter (like how he was protective over Aya) He's definitely giving a Vlad and Mavis (Hotel Transylvania) relationship, he'd do anything to make sure his daughter is happy.

Fyodor D. - Girl dad - He doesn't purposely neglect he child but take he's a terroist and literally on the run he tries his best but when he's not home he definitely sends Nikolai over to go give his daughter attention and love.

Sigma - Girl dad - If he had to choose, he'd be a girl dad. Not saying he wouldn't be a good dad, he'd be amazing but he wouldn't know how to deal with the drama or menstruals for the very first time but he'd definitely understand as time goes by.

Nikolai G. - Girl dad - ALL. THE. WAY. GIRL DAD NIKOLAI CANON. He'd let his daughter do his makeup for dress up or just for his clown outfit. No matter how messy it was he'd wear it out if she wanted him to (to carnivals, circuses, fairs etc.) Also hair braiding and tea party's are a big thing with Nikolai and his kid.

HUNTING DOGSˏˋ°•*⁀➷

S. Jōnō - Girl dad - It may sound ridiculous but they are playing hide and seek but the only way that Jōnō was always able to find her was his daughters soft giggles through the house where she was hiding, he's a really good dad.

S. Tetchō - Girl dad - He'd teach his daughter how his ability works, a smile would almost always appear when he heard her laugh and cheer as he demonstrated.

[lovereadandwrite]

Fyodor resurrecting for the first time: 🤷🏻‍♂️:3

[tapewormfound]

The White Room Theory-CH1

pictures aren’t mine

A/N: am i publishing this less than an hour after the prologue? yes.

trigger warnings: Psychological manipulation,Dissociation,Implied captivity,Isolation / sensory deprivation,Unreliable reality,Suicidal ideation (later chapters),Violence (psychological, implied physical),Claustrophobia / existential horror,Obsessive relationships,Possible self-harm themes,Religious undertones (in a disturbing/symbolic context)

genre: Psychological thriller,Surrealism / speculative fiction?Horror,Character study,Dark drama,Canon divergence / AU,Tragedy

Chapter One

False Equilibrium

Time does not pass here, but thought does.

It becomes a slow kind of erosion: memory rubbing against memory until their edges blur. At first, Fyodor tries to sort them — fact from dream, past from intrusion. But after some indeterminate number of days (if “days” still meant anything), he stops. Precision is wasted in a place without contrast.

He remembers how to pray before he remembers his own age.

There is no sound unless Nikolai speaks. The silence is oppressive but precise — not absence, but restraint. Like something enormous breathing just beyond perception.

Today, Nikolai is lying flat on his back, tossing a playing card in the air. Fyodor doesn’t ask where he found it. Questions like that aren’t real here.

“It’s funny,” Nikolai says. “I thought I’d miss things. Sunlight. Cities. Screaming. But honestly? I don’t. Isn’t that horrible?”

Fyodor doesn’t respond. He’s seated against the wall, back straight, hands folded in his lap. Nikolai’s voice reaches him as if through cotton — muffled, too soft, too close.

“You’re awfully quiet today,” Nikolai says, still looking at the ceiling. “Plotting? Or finally coming undone?”

“I don’t believe you’re real,” Fyodor says.

Nikolai laughs — short, sharp. “That makes two of us.”

The card flips again, higher this time, and Fyodor watches it twist midair. It’s the joker. Of course.

“You talk too much for a hallucination,” he murmurs.

“And you think too much for a corpse,” Nikolai replies. Then he sits up, quick as breath. The card never lands.

“Want to hear something fun?” he asks.

Fyodor doesn’t answer. Nikolai continues anyway. “What if this place isn’t a prison? What if it’s a mirror? And you’re just too sterile inside to break it?”

Fyodor’s expression doesn’t change. “Then you’d be my reflection.”

Nikolai grins, wide and sudden, like a slit tearing across porcelain.

“Maybe I am.”

[kcuf-ad]

Dazai: I'm going to talk shit about you later, but I want to do it right. Tell me your pronouns.

Fyodor: smirks as Fyodor is getting arrested Unlike you people, I don't have pronouns.

Fitzgerald: What? Everyone has pronouns.

Fyodor: I don't. You will only adress me by my full name. Fyodor Dostoevsky. gets into the police car and drives off

Dazai: At least he gets the concept?

The Hunting Dogs are already at the cafe.

Jouno: Pronoun police! You said "he", which is not Fyodor Dostoevsky's correct pronouns!

Dazai: Oh shit, sorry!

[rosalinesurvived]

No because… they really skimped out on so much characterisation in bsd. Tonan did all that against Fukuzawa because his father–whom he clearly loved–was murdered. Higuchi joined the Mafia to provide for her little sister. Kunikida cried for two hours after the Agency was reunited because he was so overcome. Again, because he loves them all. Ango visits Oda’s grave, Gide calls Akutagawa a ‘little black duckling’, Francis shows Atsushi the amount of life-support Margaret is on just to stop her dying, Akutagawa smiled at Atsushi while he was dying. Atsushi calls Akutagawa a lawnmower, Yosano also smiles when she thinks she’ll die, Ango gets teased by his bodyguards, Dazai and Fyodor throw food at each other. All of these are such humanizing tributes that flesh out everyone and give more context for how they are

[softservesoymilk]

When you put two neurodivergent people in a room for 11 hours this is the result <3 (collab with @crowatyourwindow !)

✨ Highlights ✨ under the cut

Chapter 88 akutagawa is REAL 😂😭😭 (rip Aku cookie 😔🪦)

Cursed Karl cookie omfg Karl I’m so sorry 😭😭 I butchered him 😭 Karl if he role-swapped with atsushi ig

He has no remorse for what he did to Akutagawa and is instead getting high on shrooms

And generations of soukoku :)

And the lorax. no elaboration needed 😋

[deimosatellite]

the part when ivan was talking to alyosha and was like "russian boys are all the same. there is one russian boy i like though his name is alyosha :)" SCREAMING CRYING THFOWING UP WHAT IF I PASSED OUT HUH

[panic-point-blank]

Yet each man kills the thing he loves,

By each let this be heard: Some do it with a bitter look, Some with a flattering word, The coward does it with a kiss, The brave man with a sword! Some kill their love when they are young, And some when they are old; Some strangle with the hands of Gold: The kindest use a knife, because The dead so soon grow cold. Some love too little, some too long, Some sell and others buy; Some do the deed with many tears, And some without a sigh: For each man kills the thing he loves, Yet each man does not die.

Oscar Wilde

[velvetyvoyage]

📣📣FYODOR FUCKIN DOSTOYEVSKY! , stop making people hate you! CHALLENGE!! GO!📣📣❗️‼️‼️💋‼️‼️(IMPOSSIBLE!)

📢📢FYODOR! STOP SERVING CUNT TO MAKE UP FOR YOUR TRACHEAROUS CRIMES!! GOO!! 🗣🗣🗯‼️‼️❗️‼️‼️💋💋‼️‼️

[tsuiioku]

ɪᴛ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴛᴀᴋᴇꜱ ᴀ ᴛᴀꜱᴛᴇ · ᴍᴜʟᴛɪᴘʟᴇ ʙꜱᴅ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ༉‧₊˚

featured. osamu dazai, chuuya nakahara, fyodor dostoevsky, nikolai gogol, sigma. content. f!reader. based on a request. mentions of alcohol (dazai), mentions of food, nicknames, slavic dishes. (minor) spoilers for stormbringer. translation at the end. not proofread.

author's note. this was an incredibly fun request! these men either shift between being incompetent, or not being reliant on others, so it took a sweet turn.

would you like to see more? join the taglist or comment under this post!

synopsis. the kitchen can be many things. a refuge from the toils of everyday life. a workshop for the creation of exquisite tastes. an assemblage of conversation over collaboration.

but one thing is certain—a well-endeavored meal can warm the coldest of hearts.

𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 arrived home late one evening, tromping through the doorway with the confidence only a drunken man could muster. It had been one of those nights, ones in which he was all too aware of the hollowness of his own heart. One of those days where everything was too loud, the ones where he picked up every minuscule detail, whether he wanted to or not. So, he had taken to a drink or two to fill a void, only to dip into another—before he knew it, the room was spinning, and he found himself kicked out of the bar.

But he still had you to return to, so he gathered any soberness left within him and clambered to place his trench coat and shoes in the spots you had set out for them. He was glad you didn't hear him walk in. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been granted the opportunity to take in the view. You pranced around the kitchen, a lifted twirl in your heel as you stirred ingredients in a saucepan, the domestic mess of powders against your skin.

You were all his. The reason he had a home to return to. His sanctuary from his own mind. He often fretted—though he pretended not to—about the idea of you being taken away from him, a fact that he had come to accept as his reality. But in these simple moments, he allowed himself to indulge in the fantasy that you encompassed for a moment longer.

His arms fit snug around your waist, his head like a puzzle piece against the curve of your shoulder. "Is that for me?"

You hummed, pressing a peck on his cheek as you leaned into him.

"You'll always have a meal to return home to, Osamu."

Yeah. He'd indulge for just a little longer.

𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 did not expect to pass out. He had returned home from a weeks-long mission overseas, anxiously awaiting the moment you reunited and ran into his arms—only for him to arrive early to an empty home. You were at work, and it wasn't his fault the couch clung to him like a vice! For a moment, he thought he had been dreaming of the fresh smell of savory pasta sauce and spices.

Wait. He can't dream.

He cracked open his eyes, his vision steadily straightening out, and trudged into the kitchen with a befuddled pout, his sight narrowing in on exactly what you had been up to.

"Babe."

"Chuuya!" you yelled, almost losing your grip on your spoon before you managed to catch it, clutching it close to your chest as you twisted the knob on the stove to place the heat at a simmer. "You scared me!"

His arms crossed as he leaned on the doorway. "What're you doing cooking in here by yourself?" he asked sternly, scanning the contents of the pot along with your face. If you didn't know any better, you'd assume he was mad. But you did know better, catching onto the subtle tilt of his brow, narrowed in simultaneous amusement and disappointment. Cooking was often a partnered endeavor.

You couldn't resist laughter, cupping his cheek as if comforting an upset child. "You've had a long week, and you looked so peaceful lying there. I couldn't bring myself to disturb you."

He would've been quick to argue—you could wake him anytime, no matter the circumstance—but a thought overwhelmed him and kept his mouth at bay. You had done something for him, not with anything to gain, but simply because you cared. He was used to it happening the other way around, but this. . .this felt nice.

So, he relented, his ginger locks tickling your skin as he tucked his face into your neck with a sigh. "Thank you, baby."

𝐅𝐘𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑 had been busy preparing the next phase of his plans, though you supposed he was always busy—too busy to take care of his own basic needs, that was for sure. He was always sorting through different data, exploring multiple angles to achieve his goals.

With the many tasks flooding his brain, he hardly had time to abandon his screens. The skin of his thumb had worn from his subconscious biting habit as he looked over another spreadsheet of banking information, his hands about to slide over the keys yet again.

The scent of stroganoff stirred him from his trance. His eyes shifted to find a steaming plate of the delectable dish sitting next to him on the desk. And he finally registered the firm hand propped against his shoulder, with you looking upon him from above with a sweet but knowing smile.

"Eat."

He wouldn't have customarily taken kindly to such a harsh demand, but he bent to the stern look of your gaze, one that hid behind it a level of care he ravenously craved. You worried for him, not in the same fashion as his so-called "friends," but with the genuine desire to see him thrive, no matter the circumstance.

So, the demon allowed himself a momentary reprieve, kissing a smile into your hand before taking a bite of the dish.

"Delicious, as always, моя милая."

𝐍𝐈𝐊𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐈 had practically burst through the door, prepared to recount the travesties and trials of his day. That was until he caught onto the unmistakable scent of savory pirozhki filling. He followed his nose like a bloodhound, the smell creating a distinct path into the kitchen, where you stood, unaware of the man behind you as you mixed spices into a pan.

"What'cha cooking, dove?" His breath bristled against your ear as he sprung up next to you, using his ability with a shit-eating grin. Your expression mirrored his own, used to the stint of your lover's sudden appearances.

"I found some old Ukrainian recipes online and wanted to try them out." You held out a spoon, and he bit into the filling without a second thought—a mistake. He clutched his throat as his eyes watered, realizing it was too hot for consumption far too late. He finally managed to choke it down, releasing a loud whew!

"Trying to kill me so soon! How cruel!" he exclaimed.

Your laughter roared throughout your home, a shaking hand rubbing his back as you wiped tears from your eyes with the other. "Is it good?"

He brought a finger up to stroke his non-existent beard, humming a quick tune. "Hmm, perhaps a cup of chili powder."

"Коля," you deadpanned. "That's too much."

He sighed, a pout settled on his lips, but you caught the hand sneaking into the interior of his overcoat, snatching his wrist before he poured something irreversible into your dish. He cackled, attempting to pull away as you chased him around the kitchen island.

For a moment, it felt as if you were the only two people in the world—free of restraint. He could feel the bonds tied around him loosen. He could reach out, taste that sensation of freedom for himself. A freedom he had always found in you.

𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐌𝐀 had arrived back to his section of the Sky Casino earlier than he expected, having a strange lack of paperwork. But he simply decided to take it as a sign that he had been doing good work, and ignored the anxious feelings that always sprung from not having anything to do.

"I'm home—!" he called, but was stopped in the entryway by a sweet aroma. It was intoxicating, and he couldn't resist the temptation to lurk into the kitchen.

"Welcome home, honey!" you called back, your voice echoing down the hallway. He stripped himself of his coat, leaving it folded on one of the benches before he trekked across the threshold, a curious shift in his furrowed brow.

You were baking cookies, fluffy chocolate-chip cookies. He couldn't resist the smile on his face, even if he wanted to, nor could he ignore the bubbling warmth in his heart. But he couldn't help his confusion.

"Cookies?" he asked, dipping his finger into a batch of dough before he popped it into his mouth. "What's the occasion?"

You swiped at him with a flour-coated hand before dusting the rest of it off on a towel. "You've been busy lately, so I wanted to make you something sweet," you stated as if it were the simplest thing. But those few simple words took him aback.

You cooked for him. No one had ever done that before, not without being an employee or attempting to manipulate him—or both. And in a matter of seconds, only enough to let in a sweep of hot air from the oven to warm his skin, he realized something that had long remained empty had been filled. He felt whole.

"Sigma!" you exclaimed, and he realized that he had tears streaming down his face. The look of concern drawn through your strained lips, your furrowed brow, and your shifting eyes only further set in his new reality—he had his family. He had found his home.

"I'm okay, love. Just. . .thank you."

моя милая = my dear коля = kolya

TAGLIST: @lovedazai @osameowdazai @ruru-kiss @ishqani @zyilas @lovesick-fairy @fedyascoffin @squigglewigglewoo @kelperspelt @miloofc @s1eepybunny @dazaisms @deepseafragments @ajaxism @himikoslove @little-miss-chaoss @justcallmesakira @sillyspookycat @aureatchi @mxxny-lupin @emyyy007 @betweensinners

© MUSAMORA 2024— do not repost or modify my works for any reason. do not steal graphics w/o explicit permission. reblogs are appreciated.

[anirregularperson]

You say escape i heard literature.

Pc- Pinterest

[rampo-obsession]

I’m making comments and you won’t stop me

Happy valentines for all the singles and all the couples

I’m scared on why yosano needs someone who will scream nicely… don’t kill your own partner….. please….

I volunteer for spoiling rampo shut up

Kenji is too obvious

Fukufuku and fukumori fans dying somewhere

There’s nobody on this show who you can respect,sorry,kyoka

Akutagawa cruel

Weird Soukoku fans crying because it doesn’t say dazai

Stop defending mori.

Poor Oda

“Loves all humanity equally “ YOU SHOULD DO THAT YOURSELF ATLEAST

I have no idea who that first one is

“My wife” best answer so far

You want too much ango

I see a line of simps there who will dress you up

[tojifile]

Fyodor Dostoevsky: Poker Face

Genre: Romance / suggestive themes / language & weaponry warning

Russian roulette is not the same without a gun. (Masterlist)

(‘～‘;) Fyodor x f!reader inspired by Poker Face Lady Gaga

You were sitting at a high stakes poker table, going for over a million yen. You looked around the room, looking for your target. A tall, pale, and thin man—Fyodor Dostoevsky.

"Hey! Pay attention will 'ya?!" The man at the other side of the table yelled, snapping you out of your thoughts. "Raise" you calmly spoke as you grabbed a chip that amounted to ¥10000 and slid it forward.

"Call" the man spoke as he placed the same amount in front of him and soon the others followed. After a while of playing you looked bored, you propped your chin on the palm of your hand. The man in front of you was infuriated at the way you looked "If you're bored why not fold?! It's not like you're doing much by being here anyway." You ignored his words and still spoke monotonously "Raise."

"Why you!" The man stood up and pointed a gun to your head, horrified cries could be heard all throughout the room but you remained calm and stayed seated. "Ah! You haven't got a single chip left, how adorable!" You chuckled, ignoring the gun that was pointed to your head.

"Are you fucking insane?!" The man exclaimed "Insane hm? Albert Einstein defined insanity as doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results." You calmly responded "If anyone's insane here it'd be you, playing poker over and over, saying the same exact words then losing; expecting your next games would end in triumph only to return home with nothing."

He then slapped you with the hand that was holding the gun, your head turned to the side but you just positioned your head back with a sinister smile plastered on your face. "Fold" you spoke with an icy tone.

The man smirked at your words "Full house" you then chuckled "Four of a kind" you responded with a sinister grin. He then pulled the trigger, you swiftly moved your head as you had predicted his temper would make him do such a thing.

You then left the table leaving everyone shocked. It was as if you were walking aimlessly but you knew where you wanted to go. While playing you had spotted your target.

You walked over to his direction but then he suddenly disappeared—he found you first "Darling~ I've been looking for you everywhere, where have you been?" He whispered in your ear from behind. He had a gun to your back which he hid well with his body, one of his hands was wrapped around your chest to prevent your escape.

You stayed silent, you didn't struggle out of his grasp nor did you panic. You just stood there as if already lifeless. "Now now darling, it's no fun if you stay silent." He spoke with a pouty tone, he then started to walk towards the balcony; gently pushing you to walk forward.

Once you reached the balcony he closed the door behind the both of you. "You put on quite the show earlier, didn't you darling?" He softly spoke, he sighed as you still stayed silent. He then opened the barrel of his gun, he threw away 6 bullets and kept 2 inside. He spun the barrel of his pistol and aimed it at your back again.

"Every time you don't respond I'll shoot your back and every time you do respond I'll shoot away." He chuckled, a modified Russian roulette was the game he had proposed. You softly nodded then he pulled the trigger—empty.

"Lucky you darling! Now will you tell me why you were looking for me?" Now you were ready to respond knowing that the bullet will come flying out of the muzzle "Do I really need a reason to be looking for a criminal?" You retorted calmly, he aimed upwards then pulled the trigger—and you were right, there was a bullet.

"Such a clever girl!" He praised almost in a patronizing manner "Don't patronize me." you spat. He chuckled in response "Well then darling, do you have any intention of killing me?" You shook your head in response, he pulled the trigger again, aimed towards you—empty.

"Quite the opposite actually." you spoke, his interest was piqued; very curious as to what you meant he aimed away and pulled a trigger—the bullet flew "hm, I guess I should've placed the bullets further apart." He chuckled, a sinister yet faint smile crept along his face.

He wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, resting his head on your shoulder. "Do you have any questions for me?" he whispered in your ear "How did you know I was looking for you?" Fyodor chuckled before responding "I didn't."

"So why are you here?" You asked, now a bit confused. His sinister smile grew and his demeanor was now more eerie "You do know what comes after poker face, right darling?" He whispered in your ear, his warm breath travelling down your neck as he placed a soft kiss.

Author's notes:

To understand the last thing Fyodor said search up "Poker face lyrics" it will not disappoint.

Spontaneous post: 06/22/23 17:14PM GMT+8 Philippine Standard Time

[sh1mmer-add1ct]

ermm bsd hcs :3 just random ones. Aka. Projecting onto them

Don't tag as soukoku or shin soukoku. I will block you lmao.

@g0ttal0ve101 @sleepygamerotaku @crowisinthetrash

Ranpo's literally so sassy n sarcastic but sometimes it's hard to tell if he's being serious or not. Yk how sometimes people sound different when there being sarcastic. Yeah. He doesn't a lot of the time.

Poe n Ranpo teach/taught each other English and Japanese (respectively)

^ they could both already somewhat speak the other but not fluently or very well.

Ranpo cries REALLY easily sometimes. Sometimes it isn't full on crying though, sometimes it's just tears starting to well up and he quickly wipes them away.

^ So does Atsushi. But he doesn't really hide it.

Im pretty sure Chuuya is canonically good w kids but. When he isn't actually working, he regularly takes Q, and the younger members of the ada out for food.

Kenji's just. In awe of everyone's abilities tbh, to the point of being distracted when fighting sometimes (obv he ends up fine lmao) He's just a little boy <33

Koyou and Yosano regularly have wine together.(they're secretly dating.)

^(the two of them n RanPoe go on double dates sometimes. Poe's usually reluctant but ends up enjoying it anyway.)

You will NEVER see Poe without Karl. Unless Ranpo has him. Which, Poe usually isn't far so..

Poe is oblivious to how much he spends and genuinely leaves Ranpo in shock every time. However, he actually enjoys buying things for him, so it's not like he minds.

DOA POLYCULE!!!!!!!!!!!! (Nikolai, Fyodor, Sigma, and Bram)

Yosano LOVES taking Kenji, Kyouka, and Atsushi shopping.

Dazai's actually rlly sweet when he wants to be, he just chooses to be a little shit.

Kunikida is on Dazai's ass Abt his schedule n shit, but more lenient with the younger members

"Chuuya's so lana del Ray coded" yeah but he does. Not. Listen to that kind of music. That man listens ac/dc, Slipknot, Korn, Metallica, Disturbed, etc. Trust me I know from person experience

Atsushi can purr.

Chuuya HATES white wine, you will NOT catch that man ever drinking it.