#fyodor angst

[saelique]

chapter one. ignorance is bliss

˚｡⋆୨୧˚ tw + cw ノ dark content・character death・graphic descriptions of gore + blood・mentions of nausea・reader implied to have put fyodor on a pedestal・overall kinda not suitable 4 all audiences・12- are highly recommended to not interact

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈・⟡・┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

𓂃 ࣪˖ 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒 the library floor as two children sat behind a bookcase, reading a novel together. 

the evening light shone through the window and the sun prepared to set. but the two were still immersed in their own fairytale world, away from reality. 

the boy whispered the words in the book, while the girl turned its pages, the sound of paper repeatedly flipping every few minutes gently was comforting. 

it was really the perfect spot to relax. the perfect amount of golden light and it was warm in the late autumn season, where leaves began to turn yellow, red, and orange. leaving trees bare and naked. 

“so what happened next ?” the little girl urged when he paused for breath, pressing closer to her friend to try and read the printed foreign words on the book. “be patient.” he gently scolded, but all the same continued the fairytale. 

“the prince then went on a far, far journey to search for his beloved, and he suddenly-“ 

three knocks on the door. “young master ? your dinner is almost ready, please come out to the dining room to eat.” a maid called through the wooden door. and the children were brought back to reality, the fairytale world fading away once again. 

“eh ? already ?” the girl sighs, her lips forming into a pout. “I’ll read the rest of the story for you soon. so don’t worry, okay ?” the boy reassured. “I’ll be back soon. so feel free to keep on reading, okay ?” he reached over and ruffled his companion’s hair lightly, messing it up. 

“hmph ! you better keep your promise !” “of course.” and with that, he left, leaving the girl alone in the library.

years passed, and autumn passed and winter stopped by, snowflakes falling down rapidly. truly a shame that the young master couldn’t go outside to play in the snow. after all, he was too sickly a child to even move too much. 

the Dostoevsky family was truly one that is easy to pity. a frail and ill heir, a absent father that was away for work, almost never home, and a mother that lost her own mind and even called her own child the devil. 

you blew your hot breath against the ice frosted window and drew shapes on it, small hearts and stars. 

it was freezing today, and fyodor was most likely in bed, having yet another high temperature fever. 

you missed the crisp days where you two would just sit down and read books together. it was a wonderful thing to experience, and you sometimes fell asleep on his shoulder, his voice lulling you to rest after a long day of cleaning and helping to tend to him. 

Slowly, the snow melted away, leaving the earth to slowly grow back its plants and flowers. spring had finally arrived. the birds sang happily, their songs cheerful and pretty. 

time passed and from a little girl who ran around and hid away from her chores, you turned into a mature yet aloof young maid, always forgetting about her duties.

you changed, while Fyodor stayed the same. he was still the calm, collected, mature and reliable young master he always was. 

you thought he was perfect, with his pale and soft skin, pretty magenta eyes who would soften whenever he sees things he likes, pure black hair that was left quite long, and a slender figure. 

you always thought that he would look beautiful as a girl, and you did tell him once.

you remember him staring at you in shock before gently patting your head. “I suppose I would.” he agreed, and returned back to reading his book while you left his room after giving him his medication that the doctor prescribed a while ago. 

you really did think he was perfect. 

running a orphanage for the less fortunate children, going out for visits when he could in town, a popular social figure. 

but that very image of him shattered like fragile glass, breaking into millions of little pieces, never able to piece or fix again.

Because you had witnessed him push down a new maid down the stairs. 

it happened too quickly, in a flash. So much so you still cant believe if you dreamt of it or not. they were both just chatting by the stairs, the maid blushing and giggling while tucking her dark brown hair behind her ear.

then she was shoved down, the sounds of a heavy object dropping down the floor. red painted the wooden steps, some of it slowly dripping down the steps, creating a gorey sight. 

you felt your blood turn ice cold and sweat ran down your face, hands and neck, swallowing your saliva before running away, suppressing the blood curdling scream that was itching your throat, before quickly shoving the apron you were wearing into your mouth, you rushed back to your room as quietly as possible, trying to process what just happened moments prior. 

digging your nails into the palm of your hand hard, creating small crescent moons as you shook and trembled, teeth chattering as you squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head to clear the horrible, horrible image that imprinted on your mind.

you quickly breathed in and out, feeling as if your heart would burst out of your chest, dizziness and a headache starting to form.

was that really the same person who would read you fairytales and laugh at your horrible jokes ? who would constantly cover up for you ?

you wanted to throw up, a feeling of unease and a feeling of nausea in your stomach as you lurched, instinctively slapping your hand to your mouth as you shuddered.

you should really stop thinking so much about this.

clumsily getting up from your cowering position from the floor with the help of leaning on your bed, you managed to stumble through the door and leave, making sure that no one saw your disheveled and nervous form

making your way to the garden with a little trouble, you arrived there with a sigh.

“[name] ! c’mon ! help me with these weeds !” svetlana called, snapping you out of your dazed trance, holding a basket of weeds, her hands sore and red from the pulling.

“hm ? you look really sickly [name] are you okay ?” svetlana asked, worried as she placed the back of her hand to your head, staring at your complexion.

“n-no- I- uhm- well- I-“ you stuttered over your words as you felt tears almost threatening to spill over, biting your lower lip.

“wha-? hey, hey, it’s okay [name], calm down/ I’ll fetch-“

“maybe she’s suffering from heatstroke ?”

a cool and kind voice interrupted the both of you. you stiffened, your pupils dialating as you shakily turned your head to reveal who you wanted to avoid the most.

“hello, surprised to see me ?”

he smiled, one that radiated of innocence and kindness. one that made you sick to your core. how many times had he attempted murder ? how many people had he killed ? judging by his act, it wasn’t his first one. Fyodor then coughed into his handkerchief. A few droplets of blood on it that was most likely his.

oh god what if you were next ?

you had to live. you can’t die yet. you didn’t even get the chance to go to the capital and have fun. and that romance novel you’ve been reading, how many chapters have you read ? oh yeah. you just started ! and the plot twist ! you’ve been saving it for days !

“oh ! young master ? aren’t you supposed to be in bed ? and I suppose . . . today is a hot day after all.” she sighed, before gently taking your arm. “mmm, stay safe you two. thank you for working hard today as well. I’ll see you around.” and with that, he went off to god knows where. Probably to hide any evidence leading to him.

“I’ll bring you a wet cloth, how about that ?” svetlana kindly suggested, while you sat there in silence. 

the day ended with you in bed, staring at the ceiling blankly. you ended up finding that corpse again with svetlana when the both of you headed to your room. Only when you saw that body this time did you let out the scream that was begging to be heard. you kept on shaking, seeing the mass amounts of blood and and everyone ended up concluding that it was a accident. that maid had quite a reputation for being clumsy after all.

you sighed and closed your eyes, letting sleep catch up with you and catch you in its embrace.

you woke up hyperventaling. tears streaming down your face and sweat clinging onto your nightclothes. it was still too early, with the sun only starting to rise and the dark night sky fading to a lighter colour. Your heart thumping more and more as you tried to take deep breathes in. 

Who knew dreaming of being murdered would feel so real and scary ? the time for you to head up to his room arrived and as you took the tray, the feeling of nausea filled you. you wanted to tell someone, to confine in someone close like svetlana.

but no one would believe you. you couldn’t even believe it yourself. now every trip to deliver him medicine was only going to petrify you, your legs shaking as the floorboards creaked and twisted under your steps.

the only reasonable thing to do was to avoid him of course. but how long could you keep this up without him noticing. his eyes that usually provided you comfort now only added to your paranoia, that he would one day decide to murder you.

why would he even kill you though ? there wasn’t any reason to kill that maid after all. she never made any trouble or inconvenienced anyone. so, what was his goal ?

you shuddered as you walked up the stairs. it was best to feign ignorance. then run the fuck away from this hell hole the second you gathered enough money.

ignorance truly was bliss wasn’t it ?

you were so going to shoot yourself in the head if you see another goddamn murder again. holding the tray tightly, you placed it down the floor and knocked.

“young master ?” you gulped, “I’ll leave your medicine here. I’ll go now.” drawing in a sharp breath, you ran away as fast as you could, before he had the chance to open the door or reply.

you needed to get out this place quickly before you get killed in the worst way possible. and fast.

“hm ? she already left ?” a young man muttered, before bending over to pick up the tray that was placed on the floor. “she didn’t see what happened yesterday . . . right ?”

“I’ll have to kill her before she tells anyone then. just to be safe . . .”

just be wary and be on your fight or flight mode at all times, okay ?

[zumek0]

draft 04; dostoevsky, f.

↪︎ fluff, fedya having a soft spot for his lover, reader is sick, gn reader, written with a fem reader in mind tho, references to irl dostoevsky’s life, surprise angst at the end, mentions of death.

↝ summary: when you become ill and are unable to fall asleep, he reads to you. the action feeling both familiar and distant to him.

You sneeze. Four times, actually.

You getting sick was highly inconvenient for Fyodor, as it prevented you from fulfilling your duties as a member of the Rats in the House of the Dead. He had to disregard plans and work his way around being down not only a member, but also the best assassin in the organization. Not to mention how it not only affected his organization, but also the Decay of Angels.

As annoyed as he was with the whole situation, seeing you in such a miserable state didn't bring him any kind of joy. On the contrary, he felt his heart hurt when he saw your teary eyes and heard your hoarse voice. Not that he would ever let you know that.

He stands up from his office set up and heads to the kitchen to get a glass of water. He can't concentrate, so he decides that he might as well check up on you. That is, of course, because he needs you to get better so you can get back to work immediately, and not because he heard you cough a little too much and a little too hard.

He places the glass on the bedside table. He hears you thank him weakly. "Are you okay?" he asks uninterestedly but scans your face for any kind of discomfort. "Tired..." you sneeze after you answer.

"Then sleep." He hands you a tissue, which you barely muster enough energy to take.

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"I don't know."

Fyodor sighs and then leaves the room. Your eyes start tearing up again, this time because you want him to stay with you. The whole image is comical: a killer as cold and ruthless as you, crying miserably because their boyfriend wouldn't spend time with them? Even if someone were to see it with their own eyes, it would be hard to believe.

Fyodor returns to the room with a book in hand. The cover torn and creased from the passage of time. It is Fyodor's favorite. Even if he rarely touched it, you knew he held a great fondness for that book in particular.

He lays down in the bed and looks at you expectantly. While your moves are slow, he waits patiently for you to make yourself comfortable against his chest. He opens the book on the first page.

"On an exceptionally hot evening early in July a young man came out of the garret in which he lodged in S. Place and walked away slowly..."

His soft voice and regular heartbeat lulled you asleep.

A young dark haired man lies kneeling at the foot of his bed. His head is hung low and his fingers are intertwined. After he finishes his prayer with an "Amen", he gets up and heads for his mother's room.

He enters quietly and finds his father already there, sitting on a chair by his mother's side. Her head turns upon hearing the door opening and a warm yet tired smile makes home on her face.

"Fedyen'ka." Her voice, although strained and tired, sounds happy to see him. "Come here, my angel. Your father and I have something for you."

He is given a book.

On a late night while talking to his mother, he had entrusted her with the knowledge of his passion for literature. Talking about some of the books he had managed to get his hands on, weather by acquaintances of his lending him some, or by the old man in the shoe shop who let him stay a couple of hours after his work ended just so he could read some of the books that he kept in the backroom of his store. That night his mother promised him that for his sixteenth birthday, she would get him a book of his own.

She had never broken a promise, yet there were still two months until his birthday. Fyodor understood at that moment that his mother was probably going to die before that.

A simple "Thank you." is all he could muster.

That night he was unable to sleep. His father went out to tend to some business, so the house would've been completely silent if it weren't for the coughs of his mother.

He gets out of bed, grabbing the book from the wooden dresser next to the door to his room. When he enters his mother's room, the coughing stops.

"Oh, Fedechka, did I wake you up?"

"No, mother." He takes a glass of water from a table nearby and puts it up to her lips. She takes a few sips. "Are you unable to sleep?" She nods.

He leaves the glass back on the table and grabs his book. His mother's gaze follows him as he moves to sit on the chair where her husband usually sat beside her. He opens the book on the first page.

"On an exceptionally hot evening early in July..."

She falls asleep with a smile on her face as she listens to her son's voice.

Two days later, Maria Fedorovna Dostoevsky would pass away.

Fun fact: i spent a ridiculous amount of time trying to understand which Russian pet names and nicknames are most common, just to end up not using any because in my head they’re already speaking Russian.

If you recognize what he's reading, ur hot. Ahhh I'm so in love with fedya, but i’m not sure if i like how this turned out...

— han.

[awoogayanderes]

A FINAL FAREWELL

➪ pairing : fyodor dostoyevsky x reader ( with a smudge of nikolai x reader if you squint )

➪ sypnosis : he can’t possibly be dead right ? …right ?

➪ other notes : not my best work but i wanted more fyodor and nikolai angst :3

“he’s dead,” the white haired man said to you. “nikolai that isn’t funny, fyodor should be here by now,” you said, annoyance creeping up. nikolai didn’t say anything, he was silent. you don’t remember the last time he stayed quiet, when he didn’t have anything to say. “nikolai…what happened ?” you asked.

“his helicopter crashed,” you were about to scold him for lying but something was off. you could see both sides of his face, his eyes. right now you weren’t looking at nikolai the jester, you were looking at nikolai. the man whom your husband trusted, the man who congratulated you on your wedding day, the man who was willing to sacrifice his life for you.

“prove it, show me something of his,” you whispered, still hanging onto hope. nikolai looked at you, as a way to confirm that you were sure of seeing his remains. with that look, he pulled something from his overcoat. an arm. you audibly gasped, trying to swallow the bile in your mouth. was that really his ?

still not being convinced, you reached out for the arm. there were bandages wrapped around the hand. gritting your teeth, your fingers hooked around the bandages, frantically trying to remove them. you could see his skin tone, his porcelain pale skin. but what confirmed it was his fingernails, unkept and bitten.

you let out a scream. a scream of disbelief. a scream of disgust. a scream of sadness. how was it even possible ? his plan had no flaws, no open holes. so why is he dead ? nikolai could only stare as you fell to the floor, sobbing. he had promised to come home, he promised to reign the new world with you. love with fyodor came with a cost, death and grief.

[opieluvs]

ᡣ𐭩‧₊˚𓂃 "That Night I Cried All The Tears God Gave Me" ft. fyodor dostoevsky

summary. after finding out your husband died, you don't know what to do with yourself. tw. fem!reader, reader is fyodor's wife, character death, slight nikolai x reader, reader is implied to be religious (but anyone can read), reader is pregnant, HEAVY ANGST, grammar mistakes (?) wc. around 1k

you were in the kitchen when you heard the front door open. "fedya, honey, is that you?" you asked as you turned off the stove. "i made us dinner! it's pelmeni, your favorite!" you walk over to the front door and surprise to see nikolai.

"kolya? what are you doing here?" you asked. he look rather sad. you could tell he wasn't his usually energetic and childish self. "where's fedya?" you started to get worried.

"(name)... i'm so sorry, but...dos-kun didn't make it." nikolai said as he looked down at his feet. "wh-what...?" your voice faltered, disbelief warring with undeniable truth. this couldn't be, what do you mean fyodor is dead? that's impossible.

you then notice that nikolai was holding a letter. you reached out a trembling hand, taking the letter from nikolai's grasp. your heart pounded in your chest, each beat echoing the disbelief and devastation coursing through your veins. with trembling fingers, you unfolded the paper, the words blurring before your tear-filled eyes.

"my darling (name),

i can't wait to return to you, my love. the food is awfully bland here, and i do admit, i miss you cooking. i miss your warmth, your laughter, the way your eyes light up when you smile. i miss everything about you.

i know i'm not the easiest man to love. my work, my obligations—they often take me away from you, and for that, i am deeply sorry. but please know, my love for you burns brighter than any star in the sky. it's what keeps me going, even in the darkest of times.

and speaking of darkness, i know you'll be worried about me being in prison. but please, my dear, don't lose faith. i'm strong, and i'll make it through this. i promise you, my darling, that I will return to you. no prison cells can hold me back from the love that awaits me on the other side. i will hold you in my arms again, kiss away your tears, and watch our child grow together.

(name), my love, my heart, my everything. Please, don't cry for me. just know that i'll always return to you, no matter what. you are my angel, my soul, and i will always love you and our baby.

stay strong, my darling. for you, for our baby, for us. until then, know that you are always in my thoughts, my prayers, my heart.

with all my love, fyodor"

you collapsed onto the floor and broke out crying. in that moment, nothing could ease the anguish that consumed you. the love of your life, the father of your unborn child, was gone. how were you supposed to go on without him? how were you supposed to raise your child alone?

"God, why?! Why did you take him from me?!" you sobbed and sobbed as you begged God for an answer. you clutched the letter to your chest as you cried.

you felt a hand on your shoulder and you look up to see nikolai looking at you with sadness in his eyes. he knelt down and wraps his arms around you. you began to cry into his chest as he tried his best to comfort you.

he understood your pain. fyodor was his best friend, well to him. all those times nikolai thought he wanted to kill fyodor now felt like a lie. nikolai listen as you kept asking and begged God for an answer. he listened as her sobbed and he swore he could hear your heart breaking. you weren't mad at God, you were just sad and didn't understand why God took fyodor away from you.

as the night wore on, you found yourself cocooned in the suffocating embrace of grief. each sob wracked your body, a physical manifestation of the pain that threatened to consume you whole. nikolai remained by your side, his presence a silent solace in the midst of your despair.

time blurred into an endless procession of tears and anguish. the weight of your loss pressed down upon you like a suffocating blanket, leaving you gasping for air in a world that had suddenly turned dark and unforgiving.

in the depths of your despair, you clung to the letter from fyodor as if it were a lifeline in the stormy sea of your emotions. his words, filled with love and promises of return, offered a fleeting sense of comfort amidst the overwhelming grief that threatened to engulf you.

but even as you clung to his words, a nagging doubt gnawed at the edges of your consciousness. how could you go on without him? how could you raise your child alone, knowing that their father would never return to embrace them with the same love and warmth that he had bestowed upon you?

nikolai's presence offered a semblance of support, but even his comforting embrace could not fill the void left by fyodor's absence. in the quiet moments between sobs, you found yourself grappling with the unfairness of it all, questioning why fate had deemed it necessary to tear your world apart.

as the first light of dawn crept through the windows, illuminating the shadows that clung to the corners of the room, you felt a sense of numbness settle over you. the tears had dried up, leaving behind a hollow ache that resonated with the emptiness of your soul.

in that moment, you realized that no amount of tears or prayers could bring fyodor back to you. his absence was a gaping wound that would never fully heal, a testament to the cruelty of fate and the fragility of human existence.

with a heavy heart, you rose from the floor, the weight of your grief dragging at your limbs like chains. as you made your way through the dimly lit house, each step echoed with the hollow emptiness of your soul.

outside, the world continued to spin, indifferent to the pain that consumed you. and as you stood alone in the quiet embrace of the morning light, you whispered a silent prayer to a God whose reasons remained shrouded in mystery.

but even as you prayed, a part of you knew that there would be no answers, no solace to be found in the cold, indifferent silence of the universe. for in the end, all that remained was the echo of your tears and the empty ache of a heart shattered beyond repair.

a/n. i'm still crying over fyodor's "death" :( i miss him so much, man. i hoped you enjoyed and reblogs are very appreciated !!

[soullessfyodor]

Hello! i just wanted to say today on tumblr i saw fyodor x child reader where fyodor is p3d0phile yandere and reader is 5years old. fyodor in fanifc had romantic fellings for child he SA and abused reader and it was so sick and disgusting thing like can we please not write such a thing as pedo character x reader? you can write dark things like yandere but character SA kid reader? its so disgusting and sick! please dont write such a thing like that! thank you for listening.

[justcallmesakira]

hii this is like my first time here requesting,,

aaaaa your writing is so cool i love it smm,,

prompt 13 angst, for fyodor?

i think it fits him really well,, and i haven't read angst for so long...

"Maybe...maybe in another life, another time"

Prompt 13

Sypnosis: Your like an angel incarnate to him but even so, you`re a pawn to the outside and will be.

Fyodor x reader

Genre: angst

Warnings: lots of sad stuff :(, no comfort

A/N: Aaaah finally first time writing for Fyodor! I hope you enjoy this anonie!! because its full of angst. YUMMY ANGST.

Etheral- Txmy ♥︎ ⇄ ◁◁ 𝚰𝚰 ▷▷ ↻ ⁰⁰'²⁵ ━━●━━───── ⁰²'⁰⁸

No matter how strong a pawn is,,, a pawn is a pawn for bigger plans then why does he feel like this? He wonders.

You had joined the decay of angels out of desperation. Nothing in your life was not really interesting anyways.

After Fyodor found out about your mere existence he was intrigued.

A human being this beautiful having such a dead and poor soul? What a wonderful day to be a saviour! He convinced himself that its just mere interest. At that time.

You were also pique by this mans goals and likings if anything you realized that he and you had alot in common.

He did not let his other subcordinates listen to his cello playing but he did to you, and only you. He did not lay his head on his other subcordinates but he layed on yours, He did not share his past experiences with his other subcordinates but he shared them to you, Only to you and no one else....Perhaps it was just an illusion to weaken his strength.

Fyodor saw all of the population as mere foolish human beings nothing else but you were an exception to his complex qualifiction

You liked his hair which reminded you of the feathers of a raven, sleek and violaceus, his bright eyes like comparable to a pair of plums, fresh from heaven.

Sure, he wasnt the best in person but you admired him, quite alot but somehow you felt sympathy for him. Everyone else would look at his direction and cover away, scared and terrified but somehow because of your naivety you felt something for him. You cant tell whether its from your heart or mind but something similar to pity. But now things are different...why do you still have that aching feeling in your chest?

"Fyodor, Fyodor dont cry" drip drip...

You are a mere pawn, nothing else but was that true?

The terrace you stood on had white lilies here and there looking as pretty as a ocean of pearls.

There was barely a trace of emotion in your face as you kept staring at the sun almost setting so the night scenery can introduce itself. Too bad you wont be able to see tonight.

Quiet footsteps could be heard, quiet like a mouse towards your figure. You realised it was fyodor, ah yes the same smell of lilac and evil.

"Are you ready, dusha moya?" the voice asks, tone as careful and delicate as glass. Like the glass covering the greenhouse from above.

"This garden is quiet the exiquitive one with its prickly rose vines sheltering the top." Fyodor states to calm down the atmosphere in this plot of flowers. "I wonder if they ever get tired of protecting the glass garden" you spit out, with no expression in your voice and your back turned against fyodor who only walked loser to you.

Your head turned around with a blank expression on your face.

"Strange girl....."

"Well, zayka its time to bid farewell even the sun is setting a goodbye" Fyodor finally revealed the words out with a smile in his face, the smile you will never be able to see again.

You picked up a white lily in your warm hands and gracefully slid it behind your hair tucking a strand of hair and finally turned around to face him, this time with a smile on your face which makes the mans eyes widen for a second.

"You're right, Lets go." you calmly voice out with a somewhat soft expression on your face as you walk towards him on the clean grass.

At that time you couldnt make out fyodors expression, whether he was sad or happy or just emotionless.

He reaches out to you with his hand asking you to put yours over his.

"It was nice knowing you, Fyodor. It really was but i guess this is our goodbye. But you know... Even though i shouldnt say this since i am but a sinner i really love you, I really do."

Your pretty lips mouth out these shattering words to him though i doubt he would feel anything anyways either way he wont be able to feel the warmth of your hands ever again nor the care of your words asking him if slept or eaten anything.

As Fyodors ability activates the life in your eyes slowly wilt away like a lily symbolizing peace.

"Maybe,,,maybe in another life, another time"

It was almost time that you died and met your punishment so with every emotion and strength you have you said out your last words as your head gently falls to his side with your lashes flattered close.

Fyodor did not smile at that.

He simple carried your corpse in bridal style with your white sleeved arms dangling down and gently placed your body on a huge pile of white lilies.

The view was beautiful indeed with the lilies hiding aspects of your now run cold body making you look etheral finally at peace.

"Fear not myshka, i will soon join you in hell too." with that the terrace was locked. Locked from dangers, threats and any bad omen.

"Farewell, Fyodor I hope you enjoyed the part you played these past 3 years"

A/N Fun Fact Fiction time!: The rose vines sheltering the glass of the green house in a symbolization to fyodors heart. The white lilies symbolize grief so he locks away any trace of emotion. By this reader puts one of the lily in their hair and asks metaphorically if fyodor ever get tired of protecting his emotions in order to achieve his goal! Also reader worked with fyodor for 3 years and an average white lily lives up to 3-5 years :)

[wizardfrog69]

Here's a oneshot idea Fyodor's daughter who betrays him and joins the armed detective agency (time frame: Right before season 4)

Love your writing by the way!

I'm gonna write this before he got imprisoned. Thanks for the request and compliment!

'•.¸♡ Betrayal hurts more than a knife ♡¸.•'

Father Fyodor x reader (platonic)

Princess is a pet name given to reader

Angst

Masterlist

Enjoy!

Fyodor never trusted anyone, not even the woman we slept with and impregnated, but once you were born, something changed, the only one he truly trusted was his own flesh and blood. That is why he always kept you away from other, he was your world, the only one you knew. Without him, you were nothing. Without your loving father, who feared his own touch, who would always keep you locked in, who would threaten you of the outside world as a world filled with evil and death beyond imagination, who claimed he was the only one who could save the world and purify it from the people who killed your mother, without him you would be nothing.

You wouldn't travel at all. You were still able to leave, but only with his supervision, he watched over you and made sure you were okay any chance he got. He loved you and wanted to keep you safe. Well, once you moved to Japan for work reasons, you decided to leave and explore the place a bit. It was warmer than your home in Russia, a lot warmer. It was like a new start for you. While Fyodor was away, you would explore the streets of a new city, you were not told the name, or how to speak Japanese, although you would help your father with learning sometimes, it was fun, you would laugh when he mispronounced something, it was fun, just like those other small moments in life.

When you were out exploring the city, you got into a bit of a commotion through this. You had met a lovely lady named Yosano. After this you would often talk together on go shopping together. It was fun, the outside world didn't seem so scary, you met a friend and she was really nice, she even gave you the opportunity of working with her in a detective agency, it was a good opportunity, and you took it. You didn't dare to tell your father, so you decided to run away.

You could keep your fun a secret for long, after all your father always looked after you, no matter where you were, he always knew where you were and had an eye on you, and he certainly did not like the fact that you made a friend, especially one from the detective agency. Once you got home, you were met with your father. He looked at you, not saying a word. The look in his eyes sent shivers down your spine. He had the same look in his eyes every time you would ask about your mother, the woman he was trying to protect, but she ended up being killed.

"Papa... I'm sorry..." You had no idea what to say, but the horrified tremble said more than the words themselves. The only person Fyodor trusted betrayed him. What did he do so wrong that his own flesh and blood betrayed? Was the world so impure it even infected your poor and weak heart that you decided to betray him as well? Melting away into betrayal like everyone else?

Without a word, Fyodor walked over to you. All you could do at the moment was freeze, the man you feared most, your father, was getting closer and closer until he could whisper in your ear. "Betrayal hurts more than a knife." His eyes, his voice, demeanour, everything, he was cold, sick, twisted. You felt a sharp pain in your abdomen, you still couldn't move, you could only stand there, tears rolling down your eyes, he stabbed you, the only person in your life stabbed you...

A smirk formed on his lips as he watched you slowly bleed out and fall on the floor weak, but there was something different about something you had never seen before, despite the cruke smirk on his lips the tears rolling down his cheeks could not be ignored, the sadness and misery in his eyes, the tremble of his crule expression.

"Papa..." it was a miracle you could still speak. "My princess." His voice trembled, and the tears only became heavier. He watches you bleed out, not as a punishment for you, no, as a punishment for letting himself trust, for letting himself feel, for letting himself love... for letting himself love someone, for letting himself have a child he would sacrifice the world to without hesitation, for letting himself feel...

༺♡༻ 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 ⋆ 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 ༺♡༻

Some ppl didn't like what I said for oda on the first kiss fic so ig this is my way of apologising, this thing I wrote. Also I'm sorry.

Honestly, I could have done better, but oh well

Have a wonderful day/night and stay hydrated, especially during the summer.

-love, Az :)

[zweetpea]

Please don’t leave me alone!

(happy birthday my sweet angel)

Summary:

Fyodor my Baby 😭. This whole thing is very Tangled inspired. Tangled is art though so it’s all good 😌. Content warning: Self deprecating thoughts, Fyodor nearly dies. Some spicy implications at the end.

“Fyodor! I made you some tea!” You cheered from the doorway of his office. “Fyo… Fyodor… Fedya~” you whispered that last one seductively into his ear. 

“Is my wife being needy?” He turns around and pulls you into his lap. 

“No! I’m just going to miss you. Do you have to go on this stupid work trip and leave me alone?” You pouted.

“It’s for the greater good. You want the world to be free of sin don’t you?”

(A/N: greater good? I am your wife! I’m the greatest good you are ever gonna get!)

“I do. I know that by doing this peace will be brought to the world and we’ll be one step closer to bringing about a paradise for all mankind to cherish. Just please be careful love.”

“I will be, little mouse.” He smiled as he kissed your cheek.

The day he left he gave you a long passionate kiss on the lips.

“I love you Fyodor. I always will.”

“I love you too, little mouse. I will be back in a week’s time.”

That “one week” turned into two months. During which you cried yourself to sleep every night worrying to death about if he’d be okay. Some night you’d wake up in a cold sweat, have nightmares about him leaving you, him dying, him having an affair, him dying, him laughing to his friends about how stupid and pathetic and selfish you were, him dying! You had that one a lot. Various different ways popped into your head. Drowning, stabbing, beating, being shot, mauling, heart attack, an ability killing him.

On one fateful night though, you heard rustling coming from your basement. You went into the kitchen, grabbed a frying pan and crept into the basement. You heard a voice coming from your husband’s office down their.

“Where’s the first ad? No no no! Don’t you go dying on me!” 

You slowly slinked in, the lights off and the room only slightly illuminated by the many screens and monitors that adorned your husband’s desk. You tiptoed to the assailant and smacked him on the back of the head with your frying pan. You quickly ran to the light switch and flipped it on to see who had dared to enter your house.

“Fyodor? And a… clown? Wait… FYODOR! Your home! Oh no you’re bleeding!” You ran over to him, and chanted the incantation to unlock your special ability. 

“Moonlight bright and pure, lend me powers divine.  Give us second chance, let us have more time.  Just a minute more, a second too would be fine.  Please don’t leave me alone, give me back what’s mine.  You once were mine.”

“Did you miss me that much?” He smirked.

You buried your head in his chest crying, “I hate you.”

“No you don’t.” You could hear the smile in his voice.

“You’re right. You always are.”

“So since you have a new arm, can I keep the old one?” The other man said.

 You both turned to him. “I’m sorry, who are you?” You ask.

“Little mouse, this is my work colleague, Nikolai.”

“So this is your wife. She’s very pretty. He talks about you so often, whenever he’s not talking about his plans he rambles about you. Honestly though, his descriptions of you don’t do you justice.”

“Nikolai, get out of my house.”

“What about the arm?”

“If it gets you to leave me alone with my wife then you can keep it.”

“Alrighty then. I’ll see you around.” Nikolai disappeared into his cape.

Fyodor stood up and pulled you with him. “Love be careful. You nearly died.”

He shushed your concerns with a kiss, it was passionate and you couldn’t help kissing back. “Come on. For two months I’ve failed to fulfill you. I plan to make up for it tonight.”

“Fedya!” You blush.

He chuckled. “I love you, mouse.”

“I love you, too.”

[sigmoon]

𓇢𓆸 Wildflowers under the summer rain

Chapter one: Orange Lilies

An introduction, a prologue to the actual story. Reader realizes that she’s developing feelings for Fyodor and thinks back to how their time together started. This chapter contains the essentials of y/n‘s backstory and what led to her and Fyodor working together. // The first five or six paragraphs take place a bit further into the story, then there’s a small time skip to the past and the story starts from there on.

Pairing: Fyodor Dostoyevsky x reader

cw: Mentions of PTSD, s*ic*dal thoughts, violence, abuse, a teeny tiny mention of smut if you squint.

You hated him. 

Every fiber of your being shook with fury when your mind started to wander again, decorating the corners of your mind with pictures of him. If you lost your focus for a mere second, his familiar voice rang in your ears and his face was everywhere, even when you closed your eyes. That damn face; the almost sickly pale visage, with unflattering dark circles and that never-ending smug expression, that you’ve wanted to wipe off of his face ever since the day you first met him. Everything about Fyodor was infuriating, from his tiring preaching about God to the way he carried himself with a sense of superiority over you, no, even all of humankind. His presence made you sick, yet you craved it and felt even more on the edge than usual when he wasn’t near. Mindless gnawing on your fingernails, tapping your foot under your desk while you were working, a tightness in your chest that made you fear you’d suffocate; you felt restless, your brain foggy until he was somewhere, anywhere near you again. 

And you hated how much you needed him, hated how you caught yourself staring at him when he didn't notice, hated how good his praise felt when you finished a task successfully. You hated how your words came out less harsh than intended when you wanted to snap at him, hated how you suddenly blushed when your hand grazed against his, your entire attitude softening like a boiled potato. 

You internally scolded yourself when, after he walked past you, you inhaled his scent as deeply as you could and enjoyed it. Or, even worse, when your hands slipped between your thighs or under your shirt when you lay in bed at night, a slideshow of images of him playing behind your closed eyes. And when the ecstasy subsided and the clarity of what you’ve just done set in, a cocktail of shame, humiliation, and denial of your feelings rushed through your body and kept you awake for hours.

However, your confusing need for his presence was completely involuntary, of course, nothing you had any sense of control over. Because despite feeling a little less fidgety and under the weather, you found yourself to be no less irritated by him when he was near. After all, you still found him insufferable, right? 

His tirades about creating a better world, when he made an effort to hold a conversation with you, have always made you want to vomit. Besides the fact that he was a textbook hypocrite, you had experienced the cruelty of the world you lived in first-hand, and hearing a man as pretentious and vile as Fyodor blabber about being the chosen one to rid the world of its sin and atrocity, caused you to shake with the urge to jump up from your seat and strangle him.

Because how could he even remotely understand the agonies of your existence? How could a person as wicked and indifferent as him comprehend what you’ve been through, let alone be the one to rid the world of such horrors? But in one regard, he was right. The world was a hideous place, a place where common sense, sincerity, and empathy were more rarely found than diamonds, and that realization has accompanied you since your childhood days. 

You've been under Fyodor’s wing for months now, but the events before your time with him in the cold, poorly lit underground facility where the background work of his schemes took place, felt like they had happened just yesterday. Long before Fyodor, that merciful saint, managed to free you, an inmate of the high facility prison for ability users, called Meursault, you had met one bad decision after another and catapulted yourself deeper into the pits of misery than that monster, an abuser you didn’t even bother to view as a fellow human being, ever could. When you, even years after it happened, still felt his hands on your body, smelled his scent, and saw his face in every man that walked your direction, you made a choice that you prayed would finally bring you peace, even if it would only be for a single night. One night during which you didn’t wake up in a cold sweat, wanting to peel your skin off and hyperventilating until you fainted. One night during which you didn’t stare at your bedroom ceiling, wondering how many people would miss you if you were gone. You were willing to do anything to achieve that feeling of justice that the law failed to give you, a system that did everything to protect a man from the consequences of his actions, even if it was at the cost of a girl’s will to live.

That urge to get revenge was your last straw, that spark that kept you going. After years of being tormented by your bloodthirsty fantasies in which you returned all the suffering and came up with the most vile and unspeakable things, you finally managed to make them reality. 

Your ability, a fickle one, hard to tame and a mystery even to yourself, came in handy. Your relationship with your ability was complicated, to put it mildly. You always knew that something about you was different, a little off, and you knew that it scared those around you who were aware of it. The ability itself was subtle but still harbored such force and intensity that you seemed to have an aura around you that made most people avoid you. This isolation, which was familiar to you all your life, left you no choice but to discover and explore your ability all by yourself, and although it always remained hard to grasp and even harder to tame, you soon figured out that it enabled you to not only make people feel weird about you but also to inflict tremendous agony upon others. Bitter and vengeful as you were at this point in your life, this realization caused you to feel almost blissful with excitement.

You figured out a suitable punishment for your abuser, and once your deed was done, he was nothing but an empty, broken shell of a human, a pile of flesh and bones that longed for nothing else but the sweet relief of death. But you were not going to grant him this, no, he needed to live with this indescribable pain and not be freed of its shackles. 

As enjoyable as this unspeakable act was for you, you still felt unsatisfied. Breaking the monster wasn’t enough, no, there were many other people out there, even in your own life, who never got what they truly deserved. Drunk on that feeling of your newfound power, one victim became two, then three, then so many that you lost count. Wherever you looked, you saw injustice that you urged to do something about. However, it was naive of you to think that you’d get away with this purging. Since your ability left no signs of physical violence on the victims, and they all seemed to have been tortured with the same method, all traces soon led to the only possible culprit. You knew what reputation you already had, thanks to your ability, so it was no surprise that those who were aware of it were quick to snitch on you. 

One thing led to another, and before you properly realized it, you sat in a ridiculous-looking, transparent, floating cube, imprisoned and surrounded by countless identical cells, in each one an inmate, one more despicable than another. As if receiving a life sentence for being an ”individual too dangerous and unstable to remain among civilians“, as they so eloquently put it, wasn’t bad enough, being in a place like Meursault was beyond humiliating. 

Deindividualization by being given a number, constantly on display for guards and your fellow inmates to watch, even having your vitals monitored, made you almost lose your mind after less than a week. To the great amusement of the guards, who harbored nothing but contempt for the prisoners, you threw almost childlike hysterical tantrums after only a few days, you even stooped so low as to beg them for mercy, to free you. You didn’t belong in this place, you screeched, you did what was right, what the executive forces of the state failed to do. 

Your misery only worsened from there, and after being mocked and ridiculed by the other inmates, who were delighted by your pathetic display of despair, finally being entertained a bit in this dull place, you even pleaded for the guards to just finally execute you, to end everything because you couldn’t take it anymore. But your wish wasn’t granted, of course, and you soon gave up trying to find ways to end it yourself, in your cell, as the damn cube offered no suitable solution. 

You lost track of the number of days you spent in Meursault by the time Fyodor, or rather, a few of his subordinates, carried out their superior’s plan to get you, that infamous ability user, out of Meursault. Your doings didn’t go unnoticed by Fyodor, who seemed to have his eyes all over the world, and he was quite intrigued by your ability, curious how he could utilize it for himself, mold and shape you to become a perfect new pawn for his own shady schemes...

Next chapter

If you like my work, consider buying me a coffee ♡

Hio’s note: Thank you for reading the first chapter of „Wildflowers under the summer rain“, I hope you enjoyed it :) I’m very excited to share many more chapters with you, and finally get the ideas that have been brewing inside my mind for a while out now. If you think a content warning is missing, don’t hesitate to let me know.

© sigmoon

[saelique]

YOU’RE SUCH A STRANGE GIRL . . .

ᡣ𐭩 ・tw : dark n triggering themes ( mental health issues, etc etc. ) it’s bsd, what did u expect ?? reader is somewhat acts like sumire !! not a healthy relationship, fem reader & reader is unstable <3 kinda of a au but not at da same time </3 hhhhhhh reader is a noble + fyodor is da butler !! > <

FYODOR DOSTOEVSKY X READER

ᘛ⁐ᕐᐷ ・꒰ the story of two humans (?) who wish to rid the world of sin. ㅤ꒱

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄 . . . secrets and affairs .

tbc . . .

[stinkyme]

Hello! This is a part two of "Nowhere else to go", there will be part three as well. I hope you like it and enjoy it! :) <3

Part one :), Part three

CW/TW: gn!reader, A LOT of dialogue, unsettling/disturbing dream (may be for some), reader meets Nikolai who tries to get them to help him kill Fyodor, manipulative Nikolai, uncanon reasoning behind his motives (given last episode), reader talks about their's and Fyodor's past/childhood (none of these events are canon, all made up), mentions of accidental killings by Fyodor's ability, mentions of hatred/hate oriented speech (towards him), mentions of burning the house down (Fyodor's house), mentions of abuse/attack (towards him), mentions of religious aspects, mentions of mass murder (Fyodor), if I forgot anything, please let me know! :)

* None of the things are done by the reader, they tended to his wounds and shared a heartwarming moment...kind of

** I have no idea how to tag this fic...lord help me

I apologize for any mistakes in advance! :)

A pact of freedom. What fool will you be?

Everything is gray, it feels heavy. Some sort of lake? You walk towards it, a loud wet sound being produced as you walk, feeling so slow and the path seems endless. There is nothing around you besides thick fog and your legs feel like they are bound with rocks. You finally reach the lake where the fog is the heaviest, not seeing anything in front of you. There is some noise. Dripping? Is it water?

No. It's blood. You look around, your vision is blurry. Dead bodies? Loads of dead bodies are underneath you. You don't recognize any of those. You feel paralyzed. You look behind yourself, noticing that what you were walking on are smashed, decapitated and bloody bodies. You want to scream, but you can't. It feels like you can't even breathe.

The dead bodies begin sucking you in, getting you buried up to your knees. You reach your hand out as they keep pulling you down, your face getting smashed between them. Unable to breathe. It's heavy. It's scary. You try to keep your hand out for as long as possible, desperately stretching it out. Somebody! Anybody! You wish to scream, but the words only echo inside your mind. 

Finally, someone catches you. A cold hand pulls you out. You feel wet and heavy, everything is still blurry. You look up, your vision hazy. You can only see the arm being stretched towards you as it still holds your hand.

"Come back to me. Do not be scared. Let me save you from this suffering." his voice whispers, sending shivers down your spine before it feels like your head explodes, only seeing the crimson red blood in front of you.

You gasp in as you wake up, covered in sweat. Your breathing is heavy as you look around. It seems you fell asleep on the floor.

"Finally awake?" a happy voice asks you and you turn your head only to be met with a white-haired man who is dressed like a clown. A jester? Who is he?

"Who are you?" you ask weakly as you rub your forehead, still feeling like you are in a dream.

"I would make you guess, but you seem to be in no state to do so. Bad dream?" he giggles as he tilts his head.

"You could say that. Anyways, who are you?" your voice is raspy. You slowly get up, grabbing the glass of water that seemed to be put on the table for you.

"Drinking so carelessly? What if I've put in the poison?" he grins at you.

"There is only one way to find out I guess." you reply disinterested, as you continue drinking.

"I like you already! This will be much easier than I thought then!" he giggles and your head begins to throb from his loudness.

"Anyhow~, my name is Nikolai, I came here to find Dos-kun." he says happily and you choke on water, coughing a little bit. 

"Dos-kun? Dostoevsky? What do you need him for?" you ask after you calm down, sitting on the chair slowly.

"So, you do know him!" he grins happily, his tone excited.

"I never said that...or I guess I did. What do you want? He left last night." you sigh out, your heart aching as you remember how he treated you.

"Are you his friend perhaps?" he tilts his head, his happy tone irritates you.

"No, we are not friends. I thought we were, but I guess not." you say in a bitter tone, but there is sadness lingering in it too.

"I know how you feel." he says with a brief feeling of sympathy in his voice. Your eyes quickly scan him, you didn't feel too safe in his presence. He seems...unpredictable, to say the least.

"No offense, but I don't think you do." you say in a slightly suspicious tone.

"And you would be perfectly correct!" he lets out a long, loud giggle and you feel your head pulsating.

"I figured. So, what business do you have with him?" you close your eyes as you lean your head against the chair.

"Well you see~, I want to kill him." he says with an excitement in his tone and your blood runs cold, quickly opening your eyes to look at him.

"Are you serious?" you ask hesitantly.

"Deadly serious!" he giggles at his own words.

"You see, when he died in front of me, I felt this...sadness. It was weird. Unexplainable. However, what I realized is that the freedom I am looking for is unreachable whether he is dead or alive. Then, I figured, it was only impossible because I wasn't the one to kill him personally and reach my own freedom with my own hands!" he explains in an euphoric tone, his hands quite expressive while doing so.

"Freedom?" you give him a confused expression, borderline unconvinced.

"Freedom, yes. Do you think humans are truly free?" he asks you, his tone more calm.

"Depends. Each person has their own definition of what freedom is." you reply disinterested. You were not looking for a philosophical conversation, especially not with someone like him. 

"That's what they all say. You are boring like everyone else." he points his finger at you, pouting a bit.

"I guess I am. Can you leave now?" you tilt your head at him, getting bored.

"No, I have to explain to you the essence of freedom. You see, Dos-kun is my only friend. Only one who ever understood me. I have strong feelings towards that, therefore towards him as well." he explains slowly.

"Mhm." you nod, still disinterested.

"Therefore, if I kill him, I will kill the last amount of emotions I have and with that achieve complete freedom!" he claps his hands, happily explaining now.

"Not to burst your bubble, but you are a fool if you think you can kill someone like him. You didn't succeed the first time, so now what?" you yawn as you stretch your body, not even looking at him at this point.

"I am happy you asked, even though your lack of creativity grosses me out. That's where you come on the scene!" he tells you in a loud, excited tone.

"Me? And what makes you think I can..or rather, will, do it?" you lean your head back on the chair.

"Because, unlike him, I am the person who understands what you are going through." he says calmly.

"I don't think-" you want to dismiss him, but he cuts you off.

"But I do." he says in a colder tone, slowly removing the card that was covering his, what seems like perfectly healthy, eye.

"I lied when I said I don't understand you. Don't you see it yourself?" he asks, tone deeper.

"No? Do I see what?" you ask as you narrow your eyebrows in confusion.

"We both share the same pain. We are bound by our feelings for Dostoevsky. Are we not?" he asks, tone a bit more empathetic.

"Your feelings differ from mine. Plus, I assume I know him longer than you do, so killing him doesn't exactly bring me joy." you reply a bit sharper, trying to hide your own pain.

"So, you are in love with him?" he asks, tilting his head.

"..You could say that." you confirm, too tired to deny.

"And he left you behind?" he continues, carefully.

"He did." you nod, your heart skipping a beat as you confirm another painful truth.

"So, don't you think if we kill him, you will be able to get free? Be set free from those feelings? The pain that you feel?" he asks, still careful.

"No, I know him a bit too much in order to do that. My heart is bound to him by many memories, not only painful ones." you say in a sadder tone, remembering.

"It doesn't matter which ones. You said I am a fool that can't kill him, and now you are being a fool who thinks it can be loved by him. My foolishness seems more sane than yours." he cuts your thoughts short, his voice calm.

"Perhaps. But also, less violent and destructive." you reply with bitterness in your voice.

"If violence is what you worry about, I can assure you that you won't do anything violent." he says with a sly grin, returning his card to his eye. You give him a confused look.

"I will! I will do the violence, all you need to do is deny him treatment for one." he grins even more.

"How did you-"

"You forgot to remove your supplies. And after all, it's the only reason he would come here. Given that he wasn't keen on catching up with you, given what you've said." he giggles which makes your blood boil.

You feel disgusted and appalled. You? Denying Fyodor treatment? Letting him die? For this lunatic? Unthinkable.

"I want you to leave my house, right now." you say sharply, pointing at the door.

"I can tell you where he is." he grins, a little giggle following as he notices your face softening.

"I don't care where he is. I don't want to see him again." you say weakly.

"Liar!" Nikolai yells at you, more giggles following as he snaps his fingers.

"Anyways, you seem to dislike violence, destruction and all that fun stuff! Tell me why!" he switches the topic, looking at you intently.

"Because I am a sane person who possesses an ounce of empathy and morals." you reply in a tone that was making it seem like this was an obvious thing.

"Ah, you will never reach true freedom like that! But, just for fun, how come you love Fyodor then? You do know what he does, yes?" he asks with a malicious smile on his face.

"I am aware of it, yes. As for loving him.." you turn your head to the side, placing your hands on your chest.

"Truthfully, I started loving him a long time ago. It seemed so hard for others, but easy for me. I just wanted him to know he was loved, that somebody, regardless of it all, still holds hope for him. Sometimes, to this day, I think he was born into violence. That it was never his choice, he was just an unfortunate soul." you speak sadly, remembering some heavier moments.

"What makes you say that?" Nikolai asks, a bit more calm.

"Given his ability.., you know?" you ask a bit quietly, as if it was a sin to speak of it. It actually was, now that you think of it.

"I am not entirely sure how it works." he replies with a little hum, tapping his own cheek.

"Me neither, but..he can kill people he touches." you say in a casual tone. Nikolai's lips turn into a sly smile, reason unknown to you.

"Back in the day, when we were young, that's when it happened for the first time." you close your eyes, a lump in your throat forming.

"I don't know how it happened, I suppose his ability fully manifested that day. Locals went to his house, his mother, father, siblings..hell, everyone was dead. Only Fyodor was alive. They thought it was an organized murder at first, but then..he accidentally killed one of the women who came to his home to investigate. Apparently, she held his hand to get him out and part of her head just...exploded, blood leaking everywhere." your eyes tear up as you remember the outcome.

"Anyhow, all we were told is to stay away from him. That he is a demon child, possessed and needs to be cleansed. But no one had the guts to touch him. They were making us pray, for ourselves, not him. It was considered a sin to speak of him or what happened. Anytime anyone would see him they would throw insults his way..say things such as he will be punished, how he is a disgrace, how God made a mistake when he sent him to this Earth, how his mother should've died at birth and take him with her. Parents would close the doors, the windows, make their kids immediately leave the playground or any place where he was. Eventually, they burned his house to the ground while he was inside, hoping to cleanse the sin he committed and hopefully get rid of a possessed child. As you can see, he didn't die. That made people even more scared and hateful." you let out a little sigh out, playing with your own fingers as they become shaky.

"Fyodor kept coming to church when no one was around. I didn't say anything as I assumed he was praying or simply honoring his family in some peace and quiet. My heart was aching for him, he was so isolated and thrown away by everyone. Some days I would see him sleeping in the streets. He had this badly made tent. It was truly horrible. Eventually, I would bring him some food and water, during the night, when no one was there. I don't remember him talking to me or eating it, but that was all I could do at the time. One time though...a couple of older people decided to ruin his tent, the very last place he had to sleep at. It was a cold, awfully cold winter. They brought long sticks, to keep their distance I guess, and decided to hit him until he passed out. They would yell how they need to beat out and kill the devil. It was absolutely horrifying." you slowly squeeze your hand with your other one as they feel cold and sweaty.

"There was blood everywhere. But they were happy and satisfied with beating up a defenseless child. I have never felt more sad, angry, scared and worried. I was too much of a coward to say anything. However, after they left, I sneaked back to him with some medical supplies my mother kept in our house, as well as some food and water. I remember when I came back, he was still unconscious. I began cleaning the blood off of his face and sanitizing his wounds as much as I could." you take a deep breath as Nikolai keeps watching you, listening intently.

"He woke up while I did it, but he wasn't saying anything. At the time, I thought he became mute from the trauma. Anyways, once I finished with his face and neck, I had to take care of his hands. Truthfully, that was scary to me. I was hesitant and I felt awfully guilty. This was a boy I used to play with, share meals with, pray with, learn with, spend time with his family, and so many other things. Yet, at that moment, I was unable to touch him out of fear. I didn't believe he was actually a demon, but when everyone says one thing...it's hard not to be scared." you take a deep breath in, eyes squinting as you try not to cry from the feelings of guilt.

"However, he finally spoke up. All he said to me was "Do not be scared", like an angel, and I did it without giving it a second thought. I was just happy he was able to speak. I touched his hands and nothing happened, as you can see. It made me very happy. Once I finished cleansing his wounds, he said how I am quite skilled and how I should do this in life. He mentioned how he thinks our hands are polar opposites it seems, but perfectly made for each other. It was intimate and special for me. It made me feel seen and appreciated. Later, I decided to go to medical university, perfecting my skills, keeping his words in my heart. I promised him how I will take care of him and how I have trust in him." you take a deep breath in, your chest feeling heavy as you speak.

"Naturally, after our little moment, he disappeared. The next morning, he was nowhere to be found and I was scared that he was frozen to death somewhere. People were celebrating, thanking God for this miracle and blessing. It didn't feel like one for me, though." you sigh out again, pausing for a moment.

"And then?" Nikolai asks, evidently intrigued.

"And then..years later, he sent me a letter. He wanted to meet up. I was still studying at the time, in that same city. I was so happy he was alive, I can't explain it even now. We met up and that's when he told me his plan and asked me to join him, which I refused. It broke my heart, but there was a part of me that understood. I remember apologizing to him, feeling guilty for not helping him in a better way back in the day. For not standing up to the people and defending him. He told me he will free me from my suffering which I didn't understand at the moment." you pause, remembering your dream. You try to shake off your thoughts as you keep your voice steady.

"Alas, later that day, our whole small city was killed. Every single person but me and my family. I knew he did it, but it was confirmed when I got another letter from him saying how my guilt is now unnecessary and how I can help him now by joining him. I was so scared at the time, I can't even describe the sheer horror I was experiencing. I was forced to change universities, conveniently enough, to a city he was in. From that moment, this whole back and forth thing between us is going on. Or used to." you finally let a breath out, all of those memories sitting heavily on your chest. Nikolai remains silent as you pick on your past, realizing your own inability to accept it all or sit with it.

Truthfully, you don't even know why you opened to someone like him, but it felt a bit easier sharing it somewhere, rather than letting it sit on your chest.

"That indeed sounds like a good reason for him to do all the things he is doing. But you seem to ignore a vital piece here." he smiles maliciously.

"What do you mean?" you ask, sadness subsiding by confusion.

"He deems you as special, doesn't he? And he wanted to free you from your suffering, don't you owe him the same thing?" he asks in a tone that was trying to drown out his own excitement.

"Didn't I do enough for him?" you ask, a weak smile appearing on your lips.

"To me it seems you are just scared again. Scared to dirty your own hands in blood other than the one he brings to you. You did it when you were a child, and how did that turn out to be?" he giggles as your eyes widen a bit. He makes a little jump towards you, cupping your hands in his own. His uncovered eye is wide, wicked and borderline lunatic.

"So, what you can do is give him freedom. Let me dirty my hands, without tending his. Join him. That's how you will help me kill Dostoevsky and free him from his suffering. You will end up being by his side at the very end, just like you would like to. You will be the final observer of his when he reaches his freedom from this world that hurt him so badly." he says in a slightly sympathetic tone and you bite down on your lip.

Truthfully, yes, you could be able to help him. But is killing him really the only way? 

"I will let you think about it." Nikolai stands up, leaving a piece of paper on your table. You take it and see the address, knowing it was Fyodor's hideout.

"Choose wisely. Remember, you can free him." he grins before disappearing in his coat.

You let out a soft breath out, biting your own lip as you rub the piece of paper.

It could all come to an end, quickly. What will you choose? A pact with a demon or pact with a clown? What fool will you be? Whose marionette?

To be continued... :)

I hope you liked it and enjoyed it! :) <3

I am so sorry for the tags if they are wrong, I truly have no idea how to tag it :")

Thank you so much for all the love and support, it truly means a lot to me! :) <3

Forehead kisses for everyone :3

[awoogayanderes]

in this life, we both die

➪ pairing : fyodor dostoyevsky x reader

➪ sypnosis : you prepare him for his death

➪ other notes : YALL KNOW I HAD TO DO IT. IDEC IF THIS FLOPS RAHHH, this is also like another take for what fyodor truly knows about his different lives ? this is trash but i had to write something…

“you are to impale him with your spears at dawn as the rooster crows !” lord bram yelled out. “yes my lord !” the knights said. “you know what to do,” lord bram says, turning to face you. “yes my lord,” you nod, bowing down. you nod for the guards to unchain the man in front of you, before they follow lord bram out.

you let a heavy sigh, but nevertheless grab your basket of what you’d call toiletries. “sit,” you simply say, hinting for the man to kneel down on the floor. “it’s quite dirty,” he says. “you’ll be dead in a few hours, what does it matter,” you say, kneeling down first. “who are you ?” the man asks, kneeling down in front of you.

“i’m a maid for my lord…but i try to make those who my lord punishes, comfortable before they’re executed,” you say, grabbing a rag before dumping it into a bucket of water next to you. “so you take pity on those like me ?” he asks, eyes peering at your every action. you cracked a smile, “you could say that,” you say.

wringing out the rag, you lean forward into the man, patting it on his face. “what’s your name ?” you ask, focused on the man’s porcelain skin. “what’s yours ?” he rebuttals. “i asked first,” he almost cracks a smirk. “fyodor…fyodor dostoyevsky,” despite you having never heard that name before, chills run up your spine. “my name is y/n l/n,” you simply say.

“you mentioned you were a maid, why ?” fyodor asks, as you use another rag to wet his hair. “my mother used to work for my lord,” you say, not having much of a care, he was going to die, what was the point of withholding secrets ? “she has passed ?” the man asks. your eye slightly twitches, “you talk a lot for someone who’s going to die,” the man only smiles.

“you aren’t here by coincidence,” the man suddenly says. you pause, looking at his face. “are you some type of fortune teller ? my lord detest those, a nutcase told him he was to turn into a sword,” you shake your head. “you’re my wife in a future life,” he says and you suck in a breath. “i’m not fond of men who have a foot in the casket,” you say, shaking your head.

“seven days after i am executed, you will plummet to your death,” fyodor says and that’s when you finally retract your hand. “my job here is done, goodnight sir dostoyevsky,” you say getting up, before wiping your hands. the man could only smirk at your flee to the cellar door, before leaving in a rush.

you wouldn’t have taken that comment so seriously if it weren’t for that same fortune teller that your lord had contracted, telling you that you would die within a few weeks, falling to your death just like your mother did all those years ago. you couldn’t help but feel suffocated by the thought, you wouldn’t let it be real.

[opieluvs]

a new fic i'm working on !!!

[bee-writes-n-spins]

a/n- something random to hold y’all over til baby girl chuuya

marina and the decay of angels (and dazai)

dazai-

“wish i’d been a prom queen fighting for the title instead of being sixteen and burning up a bible, feeling super super super suicidal.”

dazai osamu was stuck being thrown into bad situations left and right through his childhood and adolescence

he had to learn to survive, as did everyone

he was in the mafia, running around and murdering, torturing, among other crimes

perhaps he just wanted normal teen tears that those things didn’t happen. just highschool, friends, relationships.

nikolai-

“instead of love, and trust, and laughter, all you get is happy never after.”

nikolai wanted to be with fyodor, which has always been clear.

he wanted to feel things, but felt it only made him weak. so he tried to give them all up and work with fyodor.

in attempting that, fyodor lost his life and left nikolai with sadness.

fyodor-

“need to purge the poison from our system until human beings listen. tell me, who do you think you are?”

fyodor’s goal from the beginning is to rid the world of sin. killing in the name of his god.

and which, he would let no one get in the way of his goals.

thus, he must punish those for their crimes. for their sin. for their poison.

sigma -

“i know exactly what i want and who i want to be. i know exactly why i walk and talk like a machine”

sigma isn’t human. that he knows.

normal human things don’t come naturally to him. he has to fake it.

and with faking it, one seems less human than ever. machine like, even. sigma became exactly like that.

a machine who, with just a push of a button, could be so easily altered and manipulated.

[kolyasupremanxy]

𝐂𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝

𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : 𝐅𝐲𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫 𝐃𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐬𝐤𝐲

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: Angst

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : Emotional manipulation , Abuse , Gaslighting , Coercion , Control , Stockholm Syndrome , Psychological trauma , Amnesia as a plot device , Possessive , Controlling behavior , Physical and emotional suffocation , Disregard for personal autonomy and boundaries , Death , Hurt no comfort

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.6k

𝐀/𝐧: This is very rushed , Forgive me. I hate this already.

You were slowly realizing that Fyodor's love for you was all fake. All the affection, kisses, promises, and his touch were nothing but an act to keep you caged all to himself. Every time you tried to voice your doubts, he would twist your words and make you feel guilty for even thinking such things. But deep down, you knew the truth. You were just a pawn in his twisted game.

"What am I really to you?"

You asked Fyodor, your voice trembling as you stared at him with tears in your eyes. Fyodor's calm expression never faltered as he looked at you, his eyes cold and calculating. "You're my loyal servant, of course," he replied, his voice smooth as silk.

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. You had given everything to Fyodor, had followed his orders without question, and had even killed for him. And yet, he didn't see you as anything more than a tool to be used for his own gain. The realization hit you like a ton of bricks, and you felt like you were suffocating.

"But... what about everything you said to me? The promises you made?" you choked out, your voice barely above a whisper. Fyodor's expression didn't change, but his eyes glinted with something you couldn't quite place. "Merely tactics to ensure your loyalty, my dear. I knew how to manipulate you, to make you believe what I wanted you to believe."

You felt like you had been punched in the gut. Every moment you had spent with Fyodor, every touch, every kiss, felt like a lie. And yet, you couldn't bring yourself to hate him. You were too deeply in love with him, too loyal to turn your back on him.

Fyodor's response was cold and calculated, like he had been expecting this conversation. He twisted every word you said, making you question your own feelings and sanity. His words were like a sharp knife, cutting deeper into your heart with each passing moment.

Days passed, and you continued to act like everything was okay, but the truth was eating away at you from the inside. You knew you couldn't continue living like this, trapped in a web of lies. So, you decided to run away, to escape this cage that Fyodor had created for you.

But fate had other plans. On the night of your escape, you were involved in a serious accident that left you with amnesia. You woke up in a hospital bed, with Fyodor sitting beside you, holding your hand. You had no memory of your past life, no recollection of the lies and deceit that had brought you to this point. Fyodor was the only one there, and you clung to him like a lifeline, believing every word he said.

Days turned into weeks, and you began to notice the small things that didn't add up. Fyodor's reactions to certain questions, the way he would flinch at certain memories that you couldn't recall. It was like there was a whole other world that you couldn't access, a world that he was hiding from you.

One night, you had a vivid nightmare. You were surrounded by darkness, and a voice whispered in your ear, "It's time to wake up from all these lies." You woke up gasping for air, drenched in sweat. Fyodor was lying beside you, his arms wrapped tightly around you, and you couldn't help but feel like you were suffocating.

"Are you okay, my love?" Fyodor asked, his voice laced with concern.

You didn't answer him, lost in your own thoughts. The nightmare had felt so real, like a warning from a past that you couldn't remember.

Days turned into weeks, and you tried to piece together your past, but it was like trying to solve a puzzle with missing pieces. Fyodor was always there, holding your hand, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. But every time he touched you, it felt like a violation, like he was trying to claim you all over again.

One day, as you were walking in the park with Fyodor, you noticed a couple walking hand in hand. The sight of their affection made your heart ache, and you turned to Fyodor with tears in your eyes.

"What am I to you?" you asked him, your voice trembling with emotion. "Am I just a pawn in your game? A pet to keep you company?"

Fyodor's expression turned cold, and his grip on your hand tightened. "You are mine," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "You belong to me, and me alone."

You were lost in a sea of confusion and pain. The past was a blur, and the present was suffocating you. Fyodor's love had turned into a cage, and you didn't know how to break free. You tried to distance yourself from him, to create some space, but he was always there, like a shadow that wouldn't let go.

You spent your days trying to remember, to connect the pieces of your past, but it was like trying to catch smoke with your hands. Memories would flash before your eyes, but they were always fleeting, like ghosts that didn't want to be caught.

Fyodor watched you with a cold gaze, like a predator watching its prey. He would try to comfort you, to soothe your fears, but every time he touched you, it felt like a violation. You knew he was hiding something, something that he didn't want you to remember.

One night, as you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, Fyodor came to you, his eyes burning with an intense fire.

"Are you afraid of me?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

You didn't answer him, lost in your own thoughts. You knew that you were afraid of him, of his love that had turned into a suffocating cage.

Fyodor's grip on your arm tightened, his fingers digging into your skin. "Answer me." he said making you feel terrified.

You flinched at his touch, but you managed to find your voice. "Yes," you whispered, your voice trembling.

Fyodor's expression softened, and he leaned in to kiss you. But the kiss felt like a violation, like he was trying to claim you all over again. You pushed him away, your heart pounding in your chest.

"I can't do this anymore," you said, your voice breaking. "I can't pretend that everything is okay when it's not."

Fyodor's expression turned cold again, and he stood up from the bed. "You think you can just leave me?" he said, his voice dripping with venom. "You belong to me, and me alone."

You tried to stand up, to get away from him, but he was too fast. He grabbed your arm and pulled you towards him, his eyes burning with a fierce intensity.

"You are mine," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "You will never leave me. I will make sure of that."

You tried to fight him, to break free from his grip, but he was too strong. He dragged you to the window, pulling the curtains aside to reveal the night sky.

"Look at the stars," he said, his voice softening. "They are all mine. And so are you."

You looked at him with fear and confusion, not understanding what he meant.

"Fyodor, please," you begged. "Let me go. I can't do this anymore."

But he wouldn't listen. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly against him.

"You will never leave me," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "I am god, and you are mine."

You knew then that you had to get away, to break free from his grasp. You waited until he fell asleep, and then you slipped out of bed, grabbing your phone and your keys. You knew you had to leave, to get away from this suffocating love that was slowly killing you.

You ran out of the apartment, not looking back, not caring where you were going. You just knew that you had to escape, to break free from the cage that Fyodor had created for you.

As you ran, your mind started to clear, and memories started to flash before your eyes. You remembered the fights, the lies, and the pain. You remembered the moment you realized that Fyodor's love for you was all a twisted game. But even in the midst of this realization, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief. For the first time in a long time, you were free.

As you ran across the street, you didn't see the car coming. You didn't feel the impact or the pain that followed. You only saw Fyodor's figure in the distance, his arms outstretched as if to catch you. And then, everything went dark.

You didn't know how much time had passed before you regained consciousness. You didn't know where you were, or what had happened. But one thing was clear - you were dying. Your body was broken, and you couldn't move.

You looked around, and you saw Fyodor's figure standing in the distance, watching you. You wanted to scream at him, to ask him why he had done this to you. But the words wouldn't come out. You were too weak.

"Why?" you whispered, your voice barely audible. "Why did I even live if things will just go like this?"

A teardrop slid down your cheek, and you closed your eyes, ready to accept your fate. But then, you heard a voice.

"Your death doesn't mean you've escaped," the voice said. "It only means that your suffering has ended."

You didn't know who the voice belonged to, but it didn't matter. You were ready to go. You were ready to leave this world behind.

And then, you died. You died without feeling any freedom in your entire life. You died without ever truly knowing what it meant to be loved. And as you took your last breath, you couldn't help but wonder - what was the point of it all?

Do Not Copy or Plagiarize Any of My Works. Reblogs Are Very Appreciated.

[ilovedazaiosamu]

“I love you, Myshka”

author’s note : hello, im a new writer here, if you can, please give me tips on how to get better! /// i’m also sorry that my fyodor is ooc😓

characters : fyodor, reader(you), a doctor

genre : angst, hurt/comfort, happy ending

enjoy!!

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You and Fyodor love each other dearly, at the start of the relationship Fyodor would always be there for you, whenever you’d want something, he’ll give it to you! Oh no!!You’re crying? He’ll find out who made you cry and repent for their sins. Oh my, but look at your relationship now, Fyodor’s too busy with work and won’t give 1 single shit about you, he’ll even hurt you if you disturb him when he’s in a bad mood.

He thought that humans should learn a lesson if they made a mistake, whether big or small, but now, he’s contemplating if he’s God or not… seeing you lay unconscious on the floor makes him feel like he’s damned.. he went over to you and quickly got you some help. But my, my! when a doctor shouted “Go!! get more help!! we’re losing this patient!” Fyodor’s eyes went wide, he felt an uneasy feeling that made him regret everything he did to you.. he wanted to see you smile and laugh again, not see you with lifeless eyes and a neutral face expression. Fyodor would do anything to get you back, to make you show your contagious smile to him, to make you feel special, to get you everything you need and want, to never feel this guilty and uneasy feeling ever again.

……..

(after 1-2 hours)

The doctor walked to Fyodor and asked him, “Hello sir, are you Mrs. [name]’s relative? or someone close to her?” “I am her lover, is she doing okay?” Fyodor said to the doctor, trying to not make himself sound worried, “I’m sorry to inform you sir that she is in a critical condition and needs to rest in the hospital for a few weeks or months, until she’s stable and ready to go, she can get discharged from the hospital.” the doctor said. Fyodor asked if he could go inside your room, the doctor then said yes and let him enter your room, seeing you lay on the bed made him feel guilty for not being there with you. He sat on the chair near your bed, “The moon reminds me of your beauty. So beautiful yet so far away. Here I am wishing I could hold you in my embrace” he said, and then suddenly he jolt up when he heard your voice, “Fedya?? is that you” as you said softly, trying to make yourself sit up from the bed, Fyodor helped you and then asked you, “Why? why must you do that? why did you try to kill yourself?” silence then filled the room, but it was broken by your response.. “Fedya, you almost never came home, we never do things together, I don’t care if you bought me something expensive, I just want to spend time with you! Why can’t you understand? Why did you have to hit me whenever I disturb you? You could’ve just scolded me!? You didn’t even care whenever I spend hours inside the bathroom crying, you didn’t even want to spend any time with me when you had the time to, it even looked like you didn’t love me anymore, Fedya..” you cried out to him, trying your very best to not break and have a meltdown. “Myshka, never do that again, I’m sorry that you felt like that, I’m sorry that I made you feel like that, I’d do whatever it takes to make it up with you, please Myshka, never do that again..” Fyodor said, softly, you smiled at him and hugged him, sharing your warmth to him. “ I love you, Fedya, my heart goes around the moon everytime I see you.” you said to him, Fyodor chuckled, “Myshka, if God ever offered me eternal life, I’d turn him down, because life without you is nothing compared to death, I love you more, Myshka.” Fyodor replied to your words, making you flustered than ever, he then gently cupped your face and then kissed you, you widened your eyes and then returned the kiss to him. In the end, Fyodor will always love you, no matter whatsoever happens to you and him. “Please rest well and don’t make me wait too long, Myshka, I’ll be waiting for you until you are much better.” Fyodor said, you nodded and teased him about getting worried for you.

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