#(づ ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈ )づ🍪 𝒬𝓊𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓎

[rottenstawberrygirl]

I love the new vibe of your blog aaah— I would dare say we are matching now! ^^

Thoughts on the new chapter? :>

I haven’t read No Longer Human (which is why I’m totally throwing in the dark here), but I’m starting to think that people hallucinating Dazai is actually part of his ability.

Oh, I didn't even realize we matched. That's so cute of us. One of my friends said my blog was too red and unorganized, so I tried to do something more "aesthetic." Perhaps I'll tidy it up a little more over time. I don't know. I'm glad I've changed it, though.

Us 👇🏻

🖤 Dark Academia 🤝��� Light Academia 🤎

I have "No Longer Human," but I couldn't bring myself to start it because of how depressing people were saying it was. 😞 I have a feeling I might not be able to handle it, but I suppose I'll start it because I want to have a better understanding of Dazai's character.

I will write my thoughts then. I'm not a good analyzer, but I'll try for you. Let me know if there are things you disagree with me on. I like it when an intelligent woman womansplain things to me heheh. 😼

-🏛—🏛—🏛—🏛—🏛—🏛—🏛—🏛—🏛—🏛—🏛-

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ CHAPTER 121 .𖥔 ݁ ˖

𝜗𝜚 (trauma 😍) 𝜗𝜚

Ahem, first things first, 👏🤵‍♀️

Atsushi has never recovered from his past traumas, as we can see from the way he falls apart every time things go downhill, and now he is doubting himself again and believes there is no point in fighting against Fyodor. Honestly, Atsushi's hallucinations are genuinely the saddest to me. He only finds the motivation to not give up by imagining if Dazai was there, encouraging him to stand up. 😕

I wonder if there's anything between him hallucinating and the destroyed Page. Isn't Atsushi connected to the book after all? Is this why everything, including his delusions of Dazai, goes pitch black at the end?

I think I'll wait for the next chapter to discuss them more. I feel we will see more of them in 122, especially because that last scene can go in many different directions.

-🏛—🏛—🏛—🏛—🏛—🏛—🏛—🏛—🏛—🏛—🏛-

The other things I want to talk about in this chapter...

I mean, I think it's obvious he's doing these on purpose.

He wants to destroy Atsushi completely psychologically, crushing his hope and making him fall into despair. He may want him to be ignited with revenge or trigger his survival instinct so that he can ultimately unleash Byakko to protect him. At this point, he's just pushing the poor boy to his limits, knowing that he won't give up so easily. But even if he had given up, it probably wouldn't really matter to him. Fyodor doesn't care if Atsushi's dead or alive in the end, but still, he is taking his chances cause he probably views Atsushi as weak/manipulatable, and breaking his will and molding him into what he wants, killing his spirit would be more practical in his plans since he only wanted Byakko, and didn't deem Atsushi worthy of her from the beginning.

Whether tormenting Atsushi or harming others, he does what he believes is necessary and justifies his actions each time. (I love what a horrible, cruel person he is.)

Let's look at this panel, in which half of Fyodor's face is shadowed with black. I really like this panel because it is yet another example of how deranged he actually is. Metaphorically speaking - part of him is bright, and a part of him is dark, or in this case, white and black. In that scene, he finally gets the reaction he has been trying to get out of Atsushi. This face may also indicate that a part of him secretly feels a sick satisfaction from doing this to him, enjoying causing suffering to an ability user. This panel also SO reminded me of Ivan and the Devil from TBK. 😭 Is it just me??? I've never heard anyone talk about it. I need someone to do a better analysis than me.

I think this is another interesting way to represent his character because usually, most audiences expect a character to be either good or bad and not change unless that character is seen as "redeemable" enough in their eyes. If they are not, then no matter how much effort that character makes to change and become a better person, they would still seem bad at their core. It's like how the fandom sees Dazai, his effort to become a good person is very much ignored despite the fact that all the characters in BSD are as morally gray as the world we live in.

And I believe that we may see Fyodor also having this kind of parallel to Dazai in the future when his whole backstory is revealed. Fyodor does horrible things, though, with a greater purpose: to fix the world, establish peace, and save humanity, as he claims. We don't know the exact reason why or what made him start everything, but he's also trying to be "good" like Dazai, a "savior" in his own crazy way. Well, except that he does not see his vision as flawed in the sense that he already perceives himself as the "good" and the "savior" he is trying to be.

I wonder if he remembers why he made up his mind to eliminate all the ability users and create a world without them in the first place. They are all humans, like him, despite their abilities. Why does he view them as sinners in particular? People who don’t have abilities do things considered “sinful,” too. Why work for so many years just to achieve that? There must be a reason more than “wanting peace” or his own curse-like ability. What was his personality like before he became like this? What kind of parents did he have? Did he ever have a family before he discovered his ability? Back then, people lived less, so I wouldn't be shocked. Does he still remember the faces and the voices of the people he used to care deeply about? Did ability users murder them, or did they betray him? What is his connection with everything? Does he even know who he is? How does he feel when he stands before the mirror and notices the visible effects of years of suffering and pain in his own haunted eyes? I just see it all as tragic.

I want to understand the reasons behind his savior complex/fallen angel parallels.

I think his motive was initially a very personal one. As time went on, he gradually forgot why, but he had seen and experienced things—awful things—that ability users have done, whether on purpose or not, and that caused him to put even more meaning into what he firmly believed in. What led him to pursue this path in the first place lost its significance and was no longer just personal. Then, he made it a worldwide problem, humanity’s problem, which he became so determined to fix. He became more obsessed and focused solely on accomplishing what he called his “mission.” After all, he was the only one capable of fixing a problem like this; he was not allowed to die, so this had to be his purpose. That must be why God had blessed him with this gift. His agony had to have a meaning, a justification. Otherwise, he would have gone mad. Anybody would have an ability like his.

He planned all of this perfectly, and everything is unfolding as he wants it to. From the very beginning, he knew he would not fail. And now, at this point, I think he just wants to finish what he started, what he made his mission, and I think he wants peace.

There are definitely so many questions about him. I know a lot of people in this fandom are sick of seeing him, but he's really one of the most enigmatic and profound characters I've seen in fiction. We still barely know anything about him. I think this arc, and probably the next one to come, will be the arc where Atsushi shines as the main character, and Fyodor shines as the main antagonist alongside him. Yes, I miss seeing the other characters I love. Yes, I wish we could go back to the old days of the Armed Detective Agency, but I beg people not to spew hate on Asagiri-sensei when the story is just beginning to get exciting. It has so much potential, and we are reading a wonderfully written, well-crafted story with plenty of effort put into it, so let's please acknowledge this. This fandom needs to voice their criticism and opinions in a respectful manner. I love our fandom, and watching what it has become saddens me.

-🏛—🏛—🏛—🏛—🏛—🏛—🏛—🏛—🏛—🏛—🏛-

I don't believe he would give up on the Bookmark this quickly after all the trouble he went through to find it. I'm sure he's playing some kind of twisted game here, but on the other hand, Fyodor is not reckless, so I'm actually very confused about this chapter. Isn't it impossible to destroy the Book? How did he even tear that Page? Is the Page he tore apart even real? Will we be seeing him get on that plane and depart, or will he be stopped by Atsushi or someone else before he can make it? I have so many questions, but I can't answer them all. 😭

But let me tell you this, man: ASAGIRI AND HARUKAWA SENSEI ARE COOKING ‼️🗣🔥🔥

Speaking of cooking, I haven't eaten anything since this morning; I might be full of bullshit right now, lololol. I'm gonna go and eat something now. Talking makes me even more hungrier istg.

The fandom right now:

[rottenstawberrygirl]

Friends !!! The winter holiday-themed Fyodor x Reader fanfic I had requested before has finally been delivered. And it tastes sweeter than honey. I couldn't get enough of reading it.

I would like to start by thanking Quality profusely for creating this beautiful masterpiece, you have indeed answered my prayers. What an actual cutie you are… ;> I cannot tell you how incredibly happy I was when I saw you posted this. I wish you a Merry Christmas in advance. I hope you have a wonderful Christmas with your loved ones. Sending you lots and lots of kisses and affection. 🤍💌

This was so so so warm and fluffy that I think my heart, no, my soul has been finally healed from all that angst I've had read. I genuinely had no idea how much I needed this. I feel filled with peace. If Fyodor was a medicine, he would be a cure for everything. He's the sole reason I keep my standards high. How can one find a man like him? This fic has made me fall in love with him all over again for the thousandth time. If my delusions are going to be full of him, then I see no problem with being a delulu. ૮꒰ ྀི >⸝⸝⸝< ྀི꒱ა

I must also comment on your choice of a more unique plot, which I enjoyed very much. I don't remember reading a Fyodor fanfic that involved; going out to choose a yolka and decorating, him preparing eggnog for us, making cookies together while throwing flour at each other and creating those very cute moments aughhh… that kiss… That's what I call a chef's kiss.

That intimate scene of us sitting cozy in front of the fireplace together and drinking eggnog... You know what I, the reader, desire. It was so heartwarming and I loved every second of it.

AND THEN HIS GIFT FOR US!? HAHAHA, I WILL NOT SPOIL IT IN CASE THERE MAY BE SOMEONE WHO HASN'T READ IT YET. That was so in character for him, I would have probably fainted. I love himmm. Maybe in the future (or next Christmas), you could write a fanfic featuring that gift, you know, it's an idea worth putting in a corner.

.

.

.

You have written everything in such great detail and managed to build an ambiance so harmoniously that you made me feel like I really was there once again. How can everything a person writes be so perfect? 😣 Oh, you and your ways Quality... I believe you are the best present I was given this year, I am truly happy to have met you. I feel tremendously grateful to be able to read your work. And you are one of the most warm, thoughtful, and understanding people I have met on the internet. You truly do have a way with words and you possess a very creative imagination in my eyes. May the beginning of our friendship be celebrated with the new year. ^^

Fyodor and Reader's chemistry, they are so in tune with each other. I even don't consider myself worthy of being the Reader anymore. 🥺 She has her own personality and I simply adore her.

I know who you pretend I am~

Do, mi, ti

Why not me~?

Why not me~?

(I love to dramatize anything lolol.)

…..

I really think that reading this kind of stuff makes me over-idealize love in my imagination.

Just the other day, while chatting with my friends at a cafe, they told me that guys are going to break my heart a lot in future because they think that I am thinking too naively when it comes to romance and stuff, and they pictured me; with a bottle of wine in my hand after finding out that I’ve been cheated on by my boyfriend, my hair messy and makeup ruined, looking out the window, crying and watching other couples being lovey-dovey with each other within at least five years. 😭 It would have hurt less if they had just directly cursed at me. I have never been so offended in my life. Now I'm scared to get into a relationship because I've never had any experience before, I’ve always been that hopeless romantic kinda girl and I don't even have the slightest idea how people do the flirting process... I don't want to get used. I don't want to fall in love with a man who doesn't love me like I do. Ah, anyway, thank you for reading my little venting. 😓 I must not despair, I can never know what fate has in store for me. I don't think I'm a naive person and I think I'm quick to recognize when people are trying to manipulate me or others or when they’re acting unusual. I believe in my ability to spot people with malicious intentions. I know that despite all our imperfections and perfections as human beings, there are many kind souls out there who may share the same yearning as me. Love and connection.

Beata hiems - Fyodor x Reader

Synopsys: Holiday special—On a chilly winter morning, you and Fyodor set out together for a festive task, finding warmth in each other's company as you navigate the day.

No warnings, just fluff

A/N: Happy holidays, everyone! The most important thing during times like these is spending quality moments with the people you love. I realized I’ve written a lot of angst lately (and not ideal situations) that I almost forgot I can write pleasant things too :> Also, I ate way too much zacusca while writing this...

Word count: 3,300

Both you and Fyodor woke early, a habit born of necessity, yet today carried a rare air of anticipation. The quiet of the morning felt different—not the product of lingering work or duty, but a purposeful calm you both had sought together. The shared goal ahead of you—choosing the perfect yolka for the season—lent an unspoken warmth to the air, even as winter’s chill lingered outside. 

The sun had barely risen, painting the sky with strokes of pink and orange as you and Fyodor prepared to set out. You wrapped your scarf hastily against the cold, eager to step outside but not prepared for the bite of the crisp winter air. The moment you crossed the threshold, the frost nipped at your cheeks, and you tugged the scarf higher, but it was no match for Fyodor’s keen eye. 

“Come here,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth, cutting through the soft crunch of snow underfoot. His gloved hand reached for the scarf you had wrapped hurriedly around yourself. He adjusted it, deftly tucking the fabric snugly against your neck. His touch lingered—more delicate than necessary—and his sharp violet eyes softened in the golden light of the sunrise. 

“You’re always so particular,” you said softly, your voice carrying more fondness than teasing. 

A faint smile ghosted across his lips, one only you were privileged to see. “It’s merely practical. Keeping you warm spares me the concern.” Though his tone remained calm, the undercurrent of care made your chest tighten pleasantly. 

“Practical, yes,” you said with a smile, a playful impulse to tease him flickering in your mind but quickly fading as you gently brushed your fingers against his hand. “But thank you.”

His raised eyebrow and the slight curve of his lips suggested he’d noticed your reaction, but he said nothing, instead gesturing toward the road ahead. “Let’s go. The trees won’t choose themselves.” 

--- 

The tree market was alive with the bustling energy of the season. Vendors called out their wares, offering everything from firs and pines to handmade garlands and wooden ornaments. The scent of mulled wine and roasted nuts mixed with the sharp, earthy tang of pine, creating an atmosphere that was as festive as it was chaotic. 

You walked alongside Fyodor, arm in arm, his quiet presence shielding you from the full bite of the winter cold. His long coat and composed demeanor made him seem almost impervious to the freezing air, while you found yourself fiddling with your gloves and scarf for warmth. Yet his close proximity—so steady and reassuring—seemed to cast a blanket of warmth around you. 

“Look at this one,” you said, pointing to a tall, lush pine with branches that stretched wide like welcoming arms. You tilted your head, imagining it standing proudly in the corner of your living room, adorned with sparkling lights and delicate ornaments. 

Fyodor’s gaze swept over the tree with a critical eye, his gloved hands tucked neatly behind his back as he stepped closer. “It’s sturdy enough,” he remarked, reaching out briefly to test the firmness of the trunk. “But do we truly need something so ostentatious?” 

You chuckled, the sound warm despite the chill. “It’s not ostentatious; it’s festive. And it’ll look perfect with the handmade ornaments we’re about to pick out.” 

His lips quirked into a subtle smirk, the faintest flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes. “Handmade ornaments? Are you assembling an art gallery in our living room?” 

“No,” you replied with a laugh, nudging his arm gently. “Just something unique for our tree. Help me find the perfect one.” 

The two of you wandered through the aisles, debating over height, fullness, and symmetry. Fyodor’s meticulous approach—inspecting every detail, pointing out subtle flaws in the trees you favored—somehow complemented your more intuitive choices. Where he saw imperfections, you saw character; where he sought balance, you admired the charm. 

Eventually, his resolve softened, and he let out a soft sigh, gesturing toward the very tree you’d first pointed out. “This one, then,” he said, his tone carrying a hint of indulgence. “If only to avoid spending the entire morning debating in the snow.” 

You grinned, stepping forward to examine the tree one last time, your fingers brushing against the soft needles. “I knew you’d come around.” 

His gaze lingered on you for a moment, and though he said nothing, the faint upward tilt of his lips betrayed a rare contentment. Together, you flagged down a worker to help carry the tree, already envisioning the warmth it would bring to your home. 

--- 

The shelves at the decoration stall were a flood of color: glass baubles, painted wooden ornaments, strings of beads, and garlands in every shade imaginable. The scent of pine mingled with that of beeswax candles, adding a rustic charm to the lively atmosphere. Your fingers lingered on a set of painted ornaments shaped like matryoshka dolls, their intricate floral patterns catching the light as you turned them over. 

“These are beautiful,” you said, holding one up for Fyodor to inspect, the delicate ornament resting gently in your palm. 

He took it from your hand with care, his long fingers brushing yours as he did so. He examined the ornament thoughtfully, tilting it slightly to catch the light. “I do like them,” he admitted. “But do we plan for the tree to carry only traditional designs?” 

“Not at all,” you replied, already picturing a mix of old-world charm and contemporary elegance. “I thought we’d pair them with something simpler, like gold and white baubles, to balance it out. What do you think?” 

Fyodor’s gaze lingered on you for a moment, his violet eyes reflecting a softness that contrasted with his usual guarded expression. “Elegant, yet practical. A perfect mix, really.” 

Pleased, you placed the ornaments into your basket and continued to wander through the stalls together, occasionally pausing to admire other unique finds. Your eyes lit up at a garland of shimmering beads hanging high above, just out of your reach. Before you could even try, Fyodor stepped forward, his movements fluid and precise, and plucked it effortlessly. He draped it lightly over his arm before turning to you, his expression unreadable but somehow fond. 

“Teamwork,” he commented dryly, earning a quiet laugh from you. 

As you browsed further, a bright red ornament shaped like a cheerful bear caught your attention. Without hesitation, you slipped it into the basket with a mischievous grin. When Fyodor noticed it moments later, he plucked it out and held it up between two fingers, his expression hovering between disapproval and amusement. 

“This one will disrupt your balance,” he remarked, the faintest trace of dry humor in his voice. 

“But it sparks joy,” you countered with a soft laugh, tilting your head as if daring him to disagree. 

He regarded the ornament for a moment longer before sighing, his faint smirk returning. “Unnecessary distractions,” he muttered, though he placed it back in the basket without further comment. “Still, it’s not without charm.” 

His quiet concession made your smile widen as you linked your arm with his again. “Thank you, Fyodor.” 

He glanced at you briefly, his eyes softening before he turned his attention back to the rows of decorations. “I simply indulge your whims,” he said, though the subtle warmth in his tone betrayed him. 

--- 

Back home, the tree stood proudly in the corner of the living room, its presence filling the space with the earthy scent of pine. You began unpacking the decorations while Fyodor set up the stand with the quiet precision you had come to expect from him. Even the simple act of adjusting the tree seemed graceful in his hands. 

“Before we start decorating, why don’t we drink some eggnog?” you suggested, stepping back to admire the tree’s placement. 

Fyodor glanced up, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “It will keep you warm after being in the cold. I’ll prepare it.” 

In the kitchen, the two of you worked in quiet harmony. Fyodor took charge of whisking egg yolks and sugar until they turned pale and creamy, his movements deliberate and exact. Meanwhile, you heated milk and spices on the stove, the warm aroma of cinnamon and nutmeg filling the air. The rhythmic sounds of his whisking and the occasional soft crackle from the stove added to the serene atmosphere. 

Unable to resist the tranquility of the moment, you stepped behind him and wrapped your arms lightly around his waist, leaning your head against his back. His steady movements didn’t falter, but his voice softened as he acknowledged your presence. 

“Comfortable?” he asked, a hint of amusement lacing his tone. 

“Very,” you murmured, letting the warmth of the scene seep into you. You lingered there, feeling the quiet strength in his posture, before he turned slightly, nudging you gently to take the mug he had prepared. Reluctantly, you let go, accepting the drink with a soft smile. 

As he handed you the mug with a faint smirk, his violet eyes glinted with quiet satisfaction. You sipped the warm drink, savoring the rich, spiced flavor. 

“It’s truly perfect,” you said, meeting his gaze over the rim of your mug. “You have a talent for making even simple things feel special.” 

His expression softened, and he inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment. “Perhaps it’s the company that elevates the experience, my dear.” 

Your smile widened as you set your mug down and began gathering ingredients for cookies. “Ready for the next round of teamwork?” 

Fyodor raised an eyebrow as you tossed an apron in his direction. “You expect me to assist with this?” 

“Yes,” you said, tying your own apron and flashing him a playful grin. “You’re a fast learner.” 

The two of you began mixing ingredients, your approaches naturally complementing each other, creating a rhythm that felt both efficient and effortless. As you sifted flour into a bowl, another mischievous idea struck. Without warning, you flicked a pinch of flour at him, leaving a pale dusting on his sleeve. 

He paused, slowly turning his head to regard you with an expression of calm menace. “You’re playing a dangerous game, lyubov’...” 

Laughing, you grabbed another pinch. “Am I?” 

With a swift motion, Fyodor dipped his fingers into the flour and smudged a streak across your cheek. You gasped, your eyes wide with mock indignation. As you reached for a small handful in retaliation, his hand closed lightly over yours, stopping you mid-motion. His violet eyes gleamed with a quiet gaiety. 

“Dear...” He spoke slowly, as if daring you to continue. “Do you really wish to escalate this?”  his voice calm, though the faintest trace of a smirk betrayed him. 

Of course, mischief took the better of you, and in the blink of an eye, the kitchen erupted into chaos. Flour flew through the air in soft, white clouds, settling like snow on the countertops, the floor, and both of you. Laughter spilled from your lips, a sweet, carefree sound that danced in the space between you.

The aprons did little to catch the fallout, now more a futile shield than anything useful. It didn’t matter. The room was filled with the rhythm of playful war—dashes of flour as ammunition, mischievous glances exchanged between you both, and the occasional breathless chuckle escaping your lips as one of you narrowly avoided a flour bomb.  

When you finally waved the white flag, Fyodor stepped closer, his voice calm but laced with quiet authority. “Do not start a war you cannot win,” he murmured, brushing a bit of flour from your hair. Despite his stern words, the glimmer of mirth in his eyes betrayed his amusement. 

“Then let's declare a truce,” you said, smiling up at him. His gaze softened as he nodded, and together, you returned to baking with a newfound warmth between you. 

--- 

After dinner and tidying up, the two of you finally began decorating the tree. The room was bathed in the warm, flickering glow of the fire in the hearth, casting a soft, golden light over everything. The air smelled faintly of pine and the lingering scent of the meal, creating an intimate, peaceful atmosphere as you carefully unpacked the ornaments and strings of lights. 

“The gold garland should go first,” Fyodor suggested, his fingers brushing over the shimmering strands before he draped them with precision along the branches. 

“Quite the expert on this decorating business,” you teased with a smile, stepping closer to adjust a section he’d already placed, your fingers brushing his as you did.

“I simply prefer a bit of order over chaos,” he replied with his usual calm, though a hint of amusement flickered at the corner of his lips, betraying his composed demeanor.

As you both worked together, the sounds of soft laughter and the faint rustle of ornaments filled the air. You held up a small ornament shaped like a bell, turning it in your hand with a questioning look. “Where should this go?” 

Fyodor stepped closer, his presence quiet but commanding. His hand brushed yours as he gently took the bell from you, his fingers warm against your skin. “Here,” he said, his voice softer than usual, placing it with deliberate care near the center of the tree. 

You hummed in satisfaction, stepping back to admire the spot he had chosen, feeling a small, unexpected warmth at how he treated each ornament with such attention. Reaching into the box again, you pulled out a bear ornament—one you’d picked up earlier that day. The little bear was a reminder of your shared experiences, and it felt like a quiet piece of your heart woven into the holiday. 

Without a word, Fyodor took it from you with a reverence that spoke volumes. His gaze lingered on the ornament for a moment, his fingers caressing it gently before he placed it with quiet care on the tree, the gesture speaking more than any words could. 

You reached into the box again, this time pulling out a sprig of mistletoe. Holding it playfully above your head, you couldn’t resist the chance to tease him once more. “And where does this go?” 

Fyodor’s eyes flicked to the mistletoe, and then back to you. The air between you shifted subtly, the playful tension between you both thickening. “A kiss?” he murmured, his voice laced with something deeper, something unspoken. 

“It’s bad luck if we don’t,” you replied, your voice teasing yet holding a hint of sincerity, knowing he wouldn’t let something so trivial go unacknowledged. 

Fyodor’s lips curled into a rare, genuine smile. He leaned in slowly, the warmth of his breath mingling with yours as his lips brushed against yours in a kiss that was both tender and featherlight. His kiss—how can one explain it? It felt like he had nothing to lose. Like his heartbeat was yours. Like someone who has just learned a foreign language and can only speak in the present tense, with you as the subject. Only now, only you.

The moment seemed to stretch, the world outside of the two of you fading away as he pulled back just enough to murmur softly against your lips, his voice low and warm. 

“We wouldn’t want that kind of luck,” he whispered, his smile lingering as his eyes met yours, holding you in a quiet moment of shared connection. 

--- 

The tree stood proudly in the corner of the living room, its soft, twinkling lights casting a warm glow throughout the space. The fire crackled in the hearth, its flames flickering and stretching across the walls, filling the room with a comforting, intimate atmosphere. You and Fyodor were curled up on the couch, a soft blanket draped over your legs, the heat from the fire adding a quiet coziness to the evening. 

Mugs of warm eggnog rested in your hands, the rich, spiced aroma filling the air as you took a slow sip, savoring the creamy warmth. Fyodor sat beside you, his hand wrapped around his own mug, a soft, almost imperceptible smile on his lips. There was a sense of peacefulness between you, the quiet sound of the fire and your soft laughter making everything feel still and right. 

You shifted a little, the anticipation bubbling in your chest as you leaned toward him, holding out a small gift. “I got you something,” you said quietly, your voice carrying a hint of excitement despite the calm of the evening. 

Fyodor’s violet eyes glinted as he glanced at you, eyebrow raised slightly in that characteristic way of his. “For me?” he asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and glee. 

You nodded and passed him the neatly wrapped box. He took it with that ever-so-gentle touch of his, unwrapping the gift with careful precision, his eyes flicking between the paper and your face. When the box was open, he held up the fountain pen you had chosen for him—sleek, elegant, with intricate golden details that caught the firelight just right. 

“It’s beautiful,” he murmured, his fingers tracing the pen’s smooth surface. “I’ll put it to good use,” he added, his usual stoicism softening further. 

“I know you enjoy writing,” you said, a smile tugging at your lips. “I thought it might be something you’d appreciate.” 

Fyodor looked at the pen for a long moment, his eyes dark with thought, before meeting your gaze. “It is perfect,” he said, the sincerity in his voice unmistakable. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he added, “Thank you.” 

You grinned, feeling a warm rush of happiness at his words. “I’m glad you like it.” 

He cradled your cheek, his fingers tracing the soft skin with a tenderness born of awe. Then, his expression shifting to one of quiet amusement. He reached for a box of his own, setting his mug down beside him. You watched with curiosity as he gave you your gift.

When you opened it, you froze, your heart skipping a beat at the sight. Inside was a small, simple folder containing a series of documents. You blinked in confusion, slowly reaching for them as Fyodor’s eyes held your gaze with a steady, almost amused calm. 

“It’s a bit unconventional,” Fyodor said, his voice low and steady, “but you mentioned once that you would like to escape the city.” 

You unfolded the papers slowly, eyes widening as you realized what they were—legal documents, papers that transferred ownership of an entire mountain to you. A piece of land. A whole mountain. He had given you a literal escape from the city, just as you had hinted at so long ago. 

“A mountain?” you whispered, your voice almost incredulous. 

Fyodor’s lips curved into a faint smile. “You said you wanted to get away. I thought this might be a... fitting solution. Perhaps you’ll find it more peaceful.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh, the absurdity and thoughtfulness of the gift almost too much to comprehend. “A whole mountain…” you echoed, still in shock. “Well, I’ll have to plan my next vacation carefully now.” 

Fyodor’s smile deepened, a quiet chuckle escaping him. “I suspect you will.” 

You leaned into him, shaking your head in disbelief but also deeply touched by the enormity of his gift. “It’s… incredible,” you said, your voice soft and full of wonder. “I never imagined you’d actually go so far.” 

“I’ve always been one for unconventional gestures,” Fyodor remarked smoothly, his tone laced with that familiar calm but with a subtle warmth. He leaned in slightly, his lips grazing your temple as he placed a gentle kiss there. 

As you sat together, the warmth of the fire and the quiet serenity of the evening enveloping you, you realized that no material gift could compare to this moment. The mountain—while impressive—was just a symbol of the depth of his consideration, of how well he knew you, how carefully he listened to the quietest of your desires. 

You pulled the blanket around you both, sipping your eggnog as you let the peaceful atmosphere settle around you. Fyodor rested his arm around you, pulling you a little closer, and for a while, you just sat in contented silence, letting the fire and the quiet of the room fill the space between you. 

It was, without question, the kind of day dreams are made out of.

[rottenstawberrygirl]

Symbolism & Meaning of Violet Flowers

“Violet flowers are often associated with love, particularly in a more delicate or romantic sense. They can symbolize modesty and humility in relationships.”

“Violets are also symbols of faithfulness and loyalty. Their perennial nature means they return year after year, a constant and reliable presence in the garden. This enduring quality has led to their association with steadfastness and fidelity in relationships, whether romantic or platonic.”

“It is the humble nature and purity symbolism of violets that have led these flowers to be associated with the Virgin Mary in Christian folklore. When the Angel Gabriel told Mary that Jesus was to be her son and what he would mean to all men, violets blossomed to showcase her chastity and faithfulness. Medieval monks took the meaning of violets even further, calling them “flowers of Trinity” because of their spiritual symbolism and their trios of leaves.”

“Shakespeare uses the violet around 17 times in his works. It usually represents hope, new beginnings, and spring, but it also represents the fragility of beauty and life.”

If I remember correctly, they also mean daydreaming or "You occupy my thoughts" in Japanese culture.

I couldn't write them all as they have many symbolic meanings, but these ones seemed more fitting for what you wrote. Violets are also the symbolic flowers of February (my) birth month!!! So, reading this made me feel especially special ehehehe. (✿ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)⁾⁾

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I agree that Fyodor will not openly tell you that he loves you. It's not that he can't. He'll already be making you feel the profound intensity of the love he feels only for you through his actions, no matter how big or small they may be. It will always be something thoughtful, intentional, and meaningful. He will never ever let you feel unloved by him. Therefore, you don't need such a reminder, which is no more than simple words.

He will never tell you directly that he loves you, but there will be signs…

You'd find it only after he’d gone, the tiny pressed violet nestled between the pages of your favorite novel. Its edges were slightly frayed, as though it had been handled with care. On a small scrap of paper, written in his familiar script, were the words:

“To hold until I return.” 

Your heart ached with love.

[rottenstawberrygirl]

+ and that scarf was knit by himself.

+ and his nose and ears turn red from the cold.

+ and he looks like a snowman with his fluffy white coat and white hair.

No thoughts, just Nikolai in an oversized fluffy white coat, with a cute warm scarf on in the middle of snowy winter.

ugh—long sigh

[rottenstawberrygirl]

That was my reaction exactly. My whole world crumbled around me when people told me he wasn't Fyodor. I felt so ashamed of myself and just wanted to bury my head in the ground. I'm sorry I got your hopes up for nothing, along with my own. Let's pretend it never happened and move on, please. (I'll never forget)

They apparently chose them because this year is the year of the snake, and Mori and Dazai have written stories featuring snakes.

BUNGOU STRAY DOGS NEW OFFICIAL ART !!! IT’S ALREADY NEW YEAR IN JAPAN, SO HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!!!!! ♥️♥️♥️

BRO, FYODOR IS SO BBG CODED HERE 🥺💖 he's beautiful. he has no right to be this attractive. I want to sit on his lap, embrace him, and kiss his face and neck. wwaaaaaahhhhhh…. 🥹