#and i want him away from fyodor asap

[allbuthuman]

i don't get how people who ship dazai with fyodor don't understand that being around fyodor can only harm dazai

yeah it's entertaining to see their 4D chess and all and yeah they're similar in a few ways but fyodor is dazai at his worst. he's similar to the parts of him that he's been trying to act against. why would you want him around someone who only makes it harder for him to stay true to the choice that he still actively tries to make

[osachiyo]

𝕱𝖆𝖎𝖙 𝖆𝖛𝖊𝖈 𝖆𝖒𝖔𝖚𝖗 · dazai, chuuya & fyodor .ೃ࿐

· 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 𐙚 none, gn reader, sfw content, fluff, petnames, headcanons + little scenarios, not proofread

· 𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢𝔰 𐙚 sorry these are really short, im just trying to clear out as many requests as i can for now :') i was gonna add sigma n fukuzawa too but i wanted to get it out asap so i can work on my other wips. also ! i might focus a little more on fluff for the time being :) happy reading and hope you guys enjoyed !

𝖘𝖞𝖕𝖓𝖔𝖘𝖎𝖘... just some cute scenarios with some of the bsd men ᡣ𐭩

dazai.. was an interesting man. he never got flustered no matter how much you flirted with him, not even blushing when you did provocative actions like sitting on his lap, or whispering dirty words into his ear.

instead, he somehow counters your lines with his own — leaving you the one flustered.

but when you give him genuine compliments, or do something nice for him genuinely from the goodness of your heart, the same man who's seemingly unaffected by your advances, somehow turns into putty — melting in the clutch of your warm grasp.

in the quiet sanctuary of your shared bedroom, you hummed sweet words against dazai's dark locks, your lips finding solace on the crown of his head. "you're so pretty," you whispered, a genuine compliment that seemed to momentarily lift the weight of his rough day.

"darling, not as pretty as you," he chuckled, his voice muffled as he buried his face in your chest. the day had taken its toll on him, a tough mission leaving him with more than a fair share of injuries. but those details could wait for another time.

for dazai, these moments were treasures. lying in your arms or having you nestled in his, the simple pleasure of each other's company became a haven. the absence of distractions allowed him to savor the rare peace he found with you, a feeling that almost made him giddy.

your words, genuine and warm, were like a balm for his weary soul. in these moments, he set aside his usual snarky quips and jokes, content to bask in the embrace and scent that spoke of comfort and home. the sincerity in your praise quickened his heartbeat, and for once, dazai didn't need to hide behind humor.

though his face was hidden from your view, dazai couldn't conceal the flush of pink spreading across his cheeks. it was a secret shared only with the solitude of your embrace — a silent acknowledgment of the vulnerability and affection that blossomed in these stolen moments of peace.

considering chuuya's job, you two don't get to spend too much time together. but you had already known and accepted that when you started dating him.

though, when you two do get to spend some quality time together — it's all worth it. he makes sure to spoil you with his affection and attention when he has the chance — making up for all the time he's neglected you.

and after a whole day of getting spoiled by him — visiting fancy and expensive places, tasting amazing food, drinking the finest wine, you finally get to relax at home with your favorite person.

"quit scrunching that handsome face, babe," you sighed, smoothing the furrowed lines of his brows with your thumbs, delicately working the cleanser into his skin. chuuya simply hummed, surrendering to the soothing sensation and leaning into your touch.

"and what's the deal with this?" he asked, his arms enveloping your waist — right where they belonged. "it's just cleanser, does what it says — cleans your skin." chuuya hummed again, drawing small circles on your hips, "just make sure it stays out of my eyes, okay?" you rolled your eyes, adjusting yourself on his lap for better comfort, "obviously."

after rinsing off the cleanser and following through with the skincare routine you'd picked, chuuya stared at his reflection in the mirror — bunny headband adorning his head, bangs swept back and away from his face, which now felt surprisingly soft. "holy shit, my face feels so...smooth?" he blinked, gently squishing his own cheeks. you approached from behind, planting a tender kiss on his neck — "i did tell you my skincare routine works wonders."

"heh, yeah," he chuckled, turning to face you, playfully squishing your cheeks together before planting a soft kiss on your lips, "now it's your turn, love. your skin deserves some of that magic too."

fyodor was a busy man, you always catch him in that dimly lit room — typing away while staring at his monitors. with all the plotting, scheming and hacking — he never really has any time left to take real care of himself.

and that's exactly what you're here for — dragging him out of the dingy room, not paying any attention to his complaints or threats, you know he doesn't mean them.

taking off his ushanka, you wonder how much time had it actually been since he's properly washed his hair — but you didn't ask him that, knowing he'd be even more irritated.

fyodor's complaints ceased once you proposed a shared bath, both of you disrobing before slipping into the warm water. the temperature, meticulously adjusted to his liking, showcased your thoughtful consideration. though the usual positions were reversed, with him against your chest, it was necessary for you to tend to his hair.

"right there, love," fedya sighed in content, tilting his head back and savoring your touch. your fingers massaged the shampoo into his hair, focusing on his scalp. "feel good, huh?" you smiled, placing sweet kisses on the pale skin of his exposed neck before gently rinsing away the shampoo from his raven locks.

these tranquil moments held a special place in his heart. simple yet profound, they kindled a warmth within him. your loving gaze had the power to thaw even his typically cold heart. in those tender glances, he found a promise to himself — to craft the perfect world for both of you.

©sachiyoh— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated♡

tags ・ @hopefulpain @inkmooon @constant-existential-terror @nda-approval @mellieellie @seiiushi @lynxxyyy @kentopedia

@sorasushik1 @himebwrries @nopethenope @neviex @fyodorisbbg @stygianoir @saharei @x-lunawrites-x @munnaitorei @emyyy007 @dearhoney-31 @the-foreigner @angoisfine @osaemu @honeycombflowers-blog @yuiiasathesilly @kaithegremlin @squigglewigglewoo @cupidszvlvr @ashthemadwriter-archived @bloobewy @mrs-bakugou @hauntedsol @ask-me-or-not @hanakotateyama @kissesmellow21 @dazaichuuya69 @xxsilverjackalxx @gettinshiggywithit @deaths-presence @sugaredpersimmon @rjssierjrie @iheartpieck @angelof-darkness @dazaisimpletmereadfanficspls @hellokitty-4-lele @scinclaitnoir @aly-insanity @kemis-world @bisexuawolfsalt @thateldribitch

[dreamkidddream]

I really enjoyed your writing on the ADA members with a younger sibling like partner <33 I was wondering if you could write the same scenario but with Chuuya and Fyodor? Except the younger partner in question has a rough past and cheery/joking personality similar to Dazai(?) I'm super excited to see more of your writing!! c:

Hi anon! Thank you for the compliment and for reading (here’s the scenario for those that want to read it)! The only difference is that instead of this reader being pure, they’re going to be like a mini Dazai (or at least similar to him). One change that I did make was that Reader isn’t as suicidal as Dazai (ie. constantly trying to find a way to end their life), but Reader is ready to go whenever and wherever, whether it’s on their terms or not. Reader is gender neutral and hope you enjoy!

Also ayyyeeee my first time writing for Fyodor! Hope I did him justice cause his part took a while lol

TW: Mentions of suicide, dark moments (Reader is a bit sadistic, but nothing graphic is mentioned) small spoilers for Dark Era arc and Season 3

Acting as a Younger Sibling with a Rough Past and Personality Similar to Dazai with: Chuuya and Fyodor

Chuuya

Well he was extremely disturbed to say the least. Okay extremely may be over exaggerating, but the way you acted got underneath his skin bad

You reminded him too much of Dazai, minus the suicide attempts and the animosity towards him. Although that didn’t stop the morbid jokes from happening

“Hey Chu-Chu, what did the librarian say to the guy that wanted to check out a book on how to commit suicide?”

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that!-“

“Go away, you’re not going to bring it back. HA! A knee slapper, am I right?”

He wondered if Dazai got to you first like he did Akutagawa, and if he did, that was just another reason to strangle him

You were his partner, and you were young. So seeing the way you interacted with everyone and everything with such a pessimistic attitude while still being cheery was alarming

Not to mention how easy it is for you to just readily accept death at every turn. You’re the literal embodiment of “guess I’ll die” and it drives Chuuya up the wall every time

He remembers the one time an enemy held you hostage how you were so cheerful to finally be rid of this joke you called a life, and that you told the guy who was holding a gun to your head to “put it between the eyes, it looks 10x better that way.” And “don’t be afraid to blow my brains out either! But you do you, but I think it’s a rather stylistic choice if I do say so myself.”

The man thought you were trying to distract him at first, but when he figured out that you were serious he honestly got so nervous he was ready to just let you go and suggest therapy lmao

After he handled the situation, he took you directly under his wing. Sure, you were already his partner, but he was really going to look out for you including outside of work. If it meant that he had to “babysit” you, then oh well

Plus he didn’t want to face Mori if he just let you die while under his care

You realized what he was trying to do when you two would go off to “collect information” and would be doing the complete opposite. “Hey, I’m kinda hungry, let’s take a break and grab a bite to eat.”

“I thought we had to get this info back to Mori ASAP. Not that I care if he’s mad, he’s been holding out on me and this is the perfect way to take revenge.”

“Holding out how?”

“I told him that since he’s a doctor he would be the perfect teacher to show me some new techniques.”

“...on?”

“Torturing, duh! My methods are getting kinda stale, and I do want to perfect my craft after all. I want to be good at something before I kick the bucket, Chu.”

Poor man is honestly in so much distress because of you please help him

And the way you interacted with the other members was both entertaining and horrifying to watch at times. Majority of the time, you were this happy go lucky kid with a dark sense of humor (you still made people smile, although sometimes it was tense or apprehensive, but whatever a smile is still a smile). But when you were having a bad day or a mission was going wrong, everyone knew to steer clear of you.

A new recruit tried to cheer you up one day, telling you that “it could always be worse”. You then got pulled into the office with a very angry Chuuya and a mildly disappointed Mori.

Chuuya finally had enough after months of this occurred. It was like a never ending cycle: except your behavior was getting increasingly more reckless and dangerous. It was driving him crazy trying to figure out why you were this way and if it was any way to snap you out of it

He wasn’t a stranger to death, he’s seen it with his own two eyes, end even killed people with his bare hands. But the huge difference between you two is that he didn’t particularly enjoy killing, if it had to be done then he had no problems doing so; it comes with the job y’know? But with you, you took actual pleasure in killing. It filled you with a sick sense of glee, and it even made his stomach turn

The bond between you two grew from just a typical work relationship (as far as working in the mafia goes). He knew that from underneath your rather concerning persona, you were just troubled. Someone or something made you this way, and while he had his own troubles growing up, he was able to deal with it and overcome his issues. It just seemed like you just...gave in to yours. And it made him feel pity for you.

You didn’t mind Chuuya at all. You actually liked being his partner! He was pretty much the only person that you didn’t feel a need to harm or kill. And he was fun to be around, when he wasn’t being such a party pooper (I mean what’s the point of being in the mafia when you can’t purposely spill some blood every now and then for fun?). The only thing you didn’t like was how he would try and get you to talk about your past. You honestly didn’t see a point in it, it’s called the past for a reason, why didn’t he understand that?!

But no matter how many times you would shut down or try to change the subject, he would always try again, and again, and again. It was very annoying. And you didn’t like to talk about it. Why didn’t Chuuya understand that?!

Eventually, his pestering worked. One day after a rough mission when he had to patch you up, you opened up to him. You didn’t immediately tell him everything, but you gave him small insights to what happened, to what lead you to be this way

You could tell that he was grateful that he was finally getting somewhere with you. And you yourself was surprised that your dynamic didn’t change. He didn’t look at you with sympathy in his eyes, he didn’t baby you, he wasn’t disgusted by you, everything was normal. The only difference is that Chuuya told you that it was okay to talk to him, and that you shouldn’t be scared to approach him (psh you scared, yeah okay)

Chuuya felt like a weight lifted off his shoulders once you opened up. You were still a bit sadistic (but you did tone it back after the recruit incident, and after you saw how repulsed he looked, so you just did everything behind closed doors now) and had your cheery persona on, but it felt a little bit more real now. It felt genuine. It gave him a good feeling to see some spark in your eyes instead of the full he felt himself getting used to. And he would never say it to you, but it also gave him a warm feeling with him being your role model (you knew but didn’t want to burst his bubble yet)

Your change wasn’t very noticeable at first, but that’s okay. No one needed to know, it was fine with just you and Chuuya. You still felt the desire to just be done with life, but it wasn’t your focus whenever you were with him. You hadn’t made peace with your past yet, but you felt you could one day with him by your side. He was someone that you didn’t knew you needed (or wanted to admit to), but it worked out in the end. You had doubts that you could or would ever change, but if you did, growing to be someone like Chuuya would’nt be the worst possible outcome

Plus, whenever he did run into Dazai with his new sidekick, he is 10000% bragging about how much better and cooler you are, with him being the superior between them both. He can’t WAIT till you guys can whoop their ass

Fyodor

Well weren’t you such an interesting character

To see someone as young as you ready to just leave this world in an abrupt way was intriguing, and he realized that he could use this to his advantage. Maybe even give you something to gain in exchange

He found you hiding inside a disgusting abandoned building (a fitting place for a rat if he would say so himself), drenched in blood. Fyodor didn’t necessarily care why, but he was curious about one thing: why were you smiling? Your eyes were so lifeless, yet here you were smiling so bright, as if you weren’t covered in someone’s blood

Fyodor found himself smiling down at you. Did you think he was prey, that he was going to be your next target? He wanted you to try, he wanted to see what you were really capable of

“Tell me, what is going to be your next move? Do you wish to attack me?”

“If you do something that I don’t like, then yes, that’s the plan. Why are you here Mister? You wanna have some fun too?”, your smile turned into a smirk, twirling your very sharp knife in your hand. “You’re not even from here, so why are you trying to bother such an innocent kid like me?”

He matched your smirk, “You are from innocent, child, even a blind man can see that. To see just how full of sin you are. This wasn’t your first atrocity that you committed nor would it be your last. Which is a shame, it might be too late for me to cleanse you of your filth.”

Oh, he was going to be very amusing to mess with. But you weren’t stupid. Something wasn’t right with this man. No one would walk up to someone with copious amounts of blood on them, holding a weapon that caused said blood, while berating them about being “full of sin”. What was his ability? Did he have people with him? Was the building surrounded or booby trapped? These questions swirled around your head, all while he just kept smirking at you. He was pissing you off, who the hell did he think he was?

But you kept your anger at bay, plastering a cheerful smile on your face. “Sin? Cleanse me of my filth? I guess I do kinda stink but who exactly do you think you are, some type of God?”

“That’s exactly what I am. I’m here to free this world from this wretched curse that has been brought upon.”

...huh? Did-did he escape from the asylum or something? Did he seriously believe himself to be a God (not even a prophet but an actual God)? Seeing your confusion, he continued on, “The curse of ability users. They plague this Earth, and they need to be eliminated.”

“Why is that? What’s wrong with having abilities? Hellooooo, some people’s abilities are actually pretty cool! If you just have a terrible ability, it’s your problem, not the world-“

“Why not let me show you why it’s indeed a curse?”

“And how would you do that? You must be crazy if you think I’m going anywhere with you. I may be dangerous but I’m not dumb!”

“You poor, misguided soul.”, he tutted at you. “Look at where you have ended up at. These people with these so called “cool abilities” have failed you, have they not? Yet you still idolize them, not believing that they are the reason for your misfortunes. If they were truly your idols, they wouldn’t have left you to fend for yourself, to live among the rats. They left you to rot, do you not see that?”

He was hitting too close to home, he was getting too personal, too close. He didn’t know you at all, you’re a complete stranger to him, but why did his words hold some truth to them?

“Come with me, and I will prove to you first hand why this has to be done.”, he was now physically close to you, staring you deep into your eyes. “It would be such a waste for you to die without knowing the truth, wouldn’t you agree?”

You didn’t have much, he wasn’t wrong. But if he could take you somewhere with real food and not scraps you had to fight to find, and to have real shelter, then fine. You agreed. And if you felt that something was up, you’ll just kill him, run away, or both

After he took you away, he kept to his word. It seemed like he was really was telling the truth, you getting first-hand experience like he promised. It was scary that he was right, but you were also indebted to him. He not only allowed you to live in luxury (at least it was luxury to you considering what you had before), but he opened your eyes to what the true problem is. He gave your life a new purpose. If you two were able to successfully complete his goal, then your problems would be gone forever right? You would finally be able to feel a sense of peace, and you can’t wait till that could happen

You and Fyodor, after he opened your eyes, bonded easier than in the beginning. You were smart enough to not fully trust him after leaving with him, but after just a couple of pulled strings to cause certain things to happen, you slowly melted and molded into the way that he planned. You would be an excellent pawn in his grand plan, and you would do well in keeping him entertained at the same time

You were a joyful child, even when carrying out his dirty work, you did so gleefully. After joining the Rats in the House of the Dead, you tried to spread that joy among the other members. They didn’t find it very amusing, but you didn’t care and neither did Fyodor. You were far too important to let go of now

You were always by him, it seemed. Always in the same space, whether he was planning his next move, and playing the cello, you were always there with this look of awe directed at him. Every time he would catch you staring, he would simply chuckle and softly reprimand you about, “how rude it is to stare, but you simply can’t help it.”

He even taught you how to play the cello!

You sounded terrible but practice makes perfect

As time went on and the end goal seeming to be closing in, he came to see you as more than just an expendable tool. He found out about your past, but simply proved to you once again why you two had to make sure the curse was ridden as soon as possible. No one wanted a repeat of what happened to you to happen to anyone else, so the mission had to be success. Failure was not an option

Fyodor didn’t see himself as a cruel man towards you. He just didn’t mince his words and he made sure that you were dealing with the truth, and not some lie that was attempted to be twisted as reality. If anything, that was the way that he showed that he held some compassion for you, he wasn’t willing to let you be lead astray from the truth again, not while he was here. You had somehow wiggled your way into his mind, where he had been accepting of your close bond, and he took that into consideration

Once his goal is achieved and he has truly made his place known as a God, he’ll make sure that you gain your rightful place among him as well. You were worthy in Fyodor’s eyes, and as long as nothing came in between your bond and the end goal, then everything will work out. He will make sure of that.

[soukokuwu]

FYODOR DOSTOEVSKY

➢ fluff (fyodor x reader)

➢ word count: 1.3k

➢ so i am still working on the requests and couldn’t finish any today blame procrastination so please have my old fyodor fluff. this was originally done for a request but i went with “the little things” instead. i’ll try to finish the requests asap 🥺✨

The only exception

His thin, cold fingers brushed against your cheek, awaking you from your slumber. Calmly, you opened your eyes, recognising the lithe form in front of you almost instantly.

There was a time when you would be scared to have seen him in your room, a time where you would cower in fear and beg him not to hurt you. But as time would have it, you began to see the humane side of him, though it was not for lack of trying.

“How are you, lyubov moya?”

“Better now that you’re here, Fyo.”

════════════════════════

Once upon a time you had been his hostage in a scheme to oust your boss from power. According to Fyodor, your old boss took something that was not his, and he was just simply claiming it back. You had just been an unfortunate little thing who got chosen to be a pawn.

Or so you thought.

It turned out to be anything but ‘unfortunate’. While you had been locked up in your own office, hands and ankles cuffed, stuck with this extremely arrogant man, you watched as he inspected your belongings with curiosity. He had chosen to gloss past everything else, but your journal had him affixed. As he read on, it gave him even more insight to the inner workings of your mind.

And it intrigued him.

The first thing he remembered thinking when he first read your entries was why a pure, kind soul such as yours was working for someone who needed to be purged for all his misdeeds. It was weird, because he had never been one to make exceptions, but at that moment he thought, maybe just that once, for one person, it could be done.

For all his bravado, he had let slip a little of his humanity. And you were the only one to see that. He had removed your restraints, perfectly aware that he didn’t need them anyway. But to you, it was an act of kindness, of a little faith. You were a hostage, after all. By how he spoke to you, he had considered himself a god, and talked about how the world should be rid of all sins. You had never once heard of anyone who had the courage to call himself a ‘god’, much less actually do something with it. He didn’t divulge much on his ability, but you understood that it was one to be feared.

However, the fear you held for him slowly turned into admiration as he talked about how he dreamt the world should be. He had not harmed you, or tried to intimidate you at all. You almost felt comfortable being there, even as a pawn. It was weird, but you wished that it could stay like that. But of course that wasn’t possible.

After the whole ordeal, he released you. You were seemingly unaffected by it, to everyone’s surprise. An empty feeling washed over you at the thought that you might not see that interesting man ever again. But it proved redundant, because Fyodor had taken an interest in you. And what he wanted, he would get. And he wanted to know you.

Fyodor had collected information on everyone in the company beforehand, so he knew almost everything about you; where you lived, who you lived with, where you were born, your birthday, and so forth. He found he liked visiting you after missions were over. At first he didn’t let you know he was watching you, he just stood from afar, but then he couldn’t help himself, and let himself into your room through the window.

Any normal human would be afraid, but he already knew you were an anomaly.

════════════════════════

Tonight was no different, and he smiled at your reply. You always knew the sweetest things to say. His bony fingers found their way to your lips, his thumb tracing them, as if to remember every groove.

Your heart was beating rapidly as your eyes were glued to his. He had visited you several times before, but never had he actually touched you like this. If this was the case, you couldn’t keep hiding how you felt. It was probably shown on your face, by the blush on your cheeks. Fyodor noticed, of course, being the ever observant person that he is.

As you slowly sat up on the bed, you placed your hands on his, leaning into his touch. “Fyo, would you grant me a favour?”

Fyodor smirked, already knowing what you were going to say, but he feigned cluelessness anyway. “What is it, milaya?”

“Kiss me.”

Whereas everyone else could only dream of demanding something from him, here you were, a mere ordinary being, actually asking him for a favour. He was aware that he had been changing his behaviour, only in regards to you, but still a change nonetheless. Where he would usually berate people for daring to ask anything of him, he found himself wanting to comply with your wishes. Your pleading tone only made him more inclined to give it to you.

Is this what he was about to do – make an exception?

He leaned down, paying attention to your every movement, no matter how small. He noticed the small bumps forming on your arms just from his mere proximity to you. As his forehead touched yours, your eyes shifted its focus to his lips, your breathing getting shallow.

Fyodor’s lips hovered over yours, enjoying very much the effect he has over you. He reveled in it a little, before giving you what you so desperately wanted. His lips pressed against yours, his tongue prying your lips open. Your soft moan as he did so spurred him on even more as his tongue delved in and swirled across your mouth. You tasted sweet, and you felt warm. A far cry from the bitter and cold that Fyodor was well acquainted with.

When the two of you finally pulled away, Fyodor took a seat next to you on the bed, letting you lean your head against him. “Do you... still get nightmares?”

You buried your head in his neck, not at all surprised that he knew. You nodded. As much as you didn’t want to risk worrying him, you knew he could tell if you were lying. His questions, most times, were just rhetorical. He already knew the answers. And you were right. Fyodor knew you started getting nightmares after the day he held you hostage. A part of him, no matter how small, still felt the guilt. If he hadn’t chosen you of all people, you wouldn’t have had to wake up with cold sweats in the middle of the night.

“I keep dreaming of the same thing,” you mumbled, voice laced with worry.

Don’t worry, milaya, I won’t let anyone kidnap you, or hurt you, if they aren’t me, he thought to himself, his hand patting your head. But the next words that came out of her mouth proved him wrong.

“I keep dreaming that one day you won’t appear before me anymore.”

His eyes widened. That’s what you had been having nightmares about? Not about what happened but about the possibility of him disappearing?

What is this feeling...

“Would you like me to stay tonight?”

You lifted your head up in surprise. Your eyes searched his for any sort of deception, but you saw none. “Really?”

And for the first time ever, Fyodor flashed you such a soft smile you thought you were dreaming. He nodded, leaning back against the headboard, and enveloping you in an embrace, coaxing you to sleep.

“I’ll be here even when you wake.”

And for the first time, you couldn’t wait for the morning after.

tag: @yokelish @glitchnovax

[dachi-chan25]

How do months in 2020 manage to last years and yet end in the blink of an eye???

Anyway I did finish my TBR so...

1 -The Vampire Armand (The Vampire Chronicles 5) by Anne Rice

🌟🌟🌟

Sooo, this one was my least favorite the 1st time I read this series and I hoped to like it more since I wasn't finding Armand as annoying in the first 4 books but gosh I really feel Anne Rice doesn't have much love for characters that are not Lestat, cuz I feel Armand could have been intresting but the book lacks the passion and wit Anne adds everytime she writes Lestat so yeah it was pretty meh. I love the cover tho.

2.-Dead and Alive (Prodigal Son #3) - Dean R. Koontz

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I was plesantly surprised. I hadn't very high expectatives for this one cuz even though I enjoyed book 2 I thought the pacing was waaaaay too slow, the plot wasn't advancing much. But this one was super cool, it picked up inconcluse storylines from the 1st book and that CLIFFHANGER!!!! The romance between the detectives was meh, like I wish I had liked them both more but the Erikas have my heart and I want to see more of Deucalion.

3.- Wild Cards I - George R. R Martin

🌟🌟

I was so disappointed. Ok so the concept is pretty cool. Like an alien virus is set loose and it causes some people to have amazing superpowers and other people gets terrible mutations, What's not to like??? But oh my fucking god. The mysogyny of this book. I can usually read books with mysogyny like I enjoy classics like 1984 despite the rampant way in which the protagonist hates woman. I couldn't handle it here. The female characters have less dimension than a sheet of paper and they depend entirely on the male characters it ruined the whole thing for me, and the writing was mediocre at times (I mean I know this was written by multiple authors but at points the quality of the writing droped like super hard) I am not picking the next one.

4.-My Sister the Serial Killer - Oyinkan Braithwaite

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I just love horror stories where a pretty girl is the killer. Like they are so enjoyable. And this particular story is so good because we have this 2 sisters, they are very different, one is like the epítome of beauty and the other is an average woman. The pretty one literally can do no wrong in everyones eyes and that’s just fine cuz she just so happens to kill her boyfriends. Her sister who is a nurse helps her clean up and get rid of the bodies because at first she believes they were abusive towards her sister but then she starts to get suspicious and things are super cool and intresting. I feel it could have gone deeper with some stuff but it was a great and quick read.

5.- Moloka'i - Alan Brenett

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I cried so much. This book is about Rachel, a girl diagnosed with leprosy at 7 years old during the 1890's and is sent away to live at the leprosarium in Moloka'i, Hawaii. We follow Rachel as she makes friends and family and loses them all over again to the sickness as she grows older. This book was so beautiful and pretty diverse (I loved Leilani I had never seen trans representation in a 19th century book) full of history and humanity. An amazing read I fully recommend it.

6.- New Suns: Original speculative fiction by people of color - Nisi Shawl.

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I Loved it. One of my main problems with anthologies is that inevitably I find some stories better than other but that was not the case here, every story had an intresting premise and amazing writing (my fave was maybe the one with the lesbian mermaid or the one were a woman raised the death to get rid of colonizers) like I need to read more from all these authors ASAP.

7.- Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevski

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I love me some good classic. This one is really amazing , I love how much we get into Raskolinov's psyche and the things that lead him to comit the crime and the effect it has on him once he does. And all this conversation about morality and if it's ever valid to commit a crime even if it's for the "greater good" and all that good stuff about how people trapped in poverty are more likely to fall down the rabbit whole of prostitution and crime and yassssss it was good,

8.- A Clockwork Orange - Anthony Burgess

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I struggled like I should have known they would use the slang like in the movie (but I watched the movie in Spanish) so I was just vibing in the first few pages of the book barely understanding shit, except those words in other lenguages and then I started to pick it up and the book is so good??? Like Alex is awfull but the book actually makes a compeling argument about free will and the concept of choosing between good or evil. In general terms the movie is super accurate tho and yeah I really enjoyed this read.

9.- The Winter of the Witch (Winternight #3) - Katherine Arden

🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

I LOVED it. This book absolutely messed me up. Like I suffered a lot for my girl Vasya. And then all the stuff with the Bear and Morozco and the war, ahhhhh it was a LOT, but the ending was pretty satisfying, I cried tons and I am hoping we get another saga maybe following Marya this time????? I will just read anything Katherine Arden writes tbh.

10.-Lifestyles of Gods and Monsters - Emily Roberson

🌟🌟🌟

It was ok??? I wished it had been more about the sisters together as opposed to make Ariadne "not like the other girls" I am sick of that trope, and the "beautiful but doesn't know it" and less about the romance. Like the premise of retelling this greek myth as a reality show actually picked my interest but the execution wasn't that great it had lots of clichés I hate and mentioned before, what I kinda liked was that even though Ariadne had a romance she decides to start over by herself when things kinda fall apart and she is maybe open to dating another dude at the end, which honestly was a relief for me cuz I feel a lot of time YA pushes this idea that your first love is the only love you'll ever feel and that’s dumb .

11.-The Glass Menagerie - Tennessee Williams

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I really love this play, well Tennessee Williams plays in general, and aire felt like re reading this one. I love Laura so much and it was a pleasure to read this again.

12.-In the Miso soup - Ryu Murakami

🌟🌟🌟

This is a very gorey book. Lots of graphic murders and violence, mentions of the sex trade in Japan. This was a very intresting read, lots of insight into the japanese society and how this very cliché image people have of it is completely wrong. Again sex trade is heavily discused as our protagonist makes a living out of taking foreigners to experience the sex clubs in Tokyo he meets this sketchy american guy who hires him, our protagonist has a feeling he might be a murderer and it goes from there. I really enjoyed it a lot and might consider reading another book by Ryu Murakami.

13.- The Downstairs Girl - Stacey Lee

🌟🌟🌟

It was amazing to read about an asian girl in the post-civil war era, and how this minority kind of lived in a limbo cuz white people didn't think much about them when making up all this crap ass rules about where PoC where supposed to live in or sit. And our protagonist Jo, is really a charming girl with a lot of opinions and so passionate I loved her so much. It was a bit cheesy at times, and I saw the book's big reveal coming but still it was a pretty good read.

14.-En el bosque bajo los cerezos en flor - Ango Sakaguchi

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Me gustaron mucho las historias, todas realmente te meten a una atmósfera japonesa: las imágenes como las flores de cerezo, los kimonos, templos, budas. Y las mezclan con un terror por lo desconocido y lo no visto que encaja tan bien en cada una de las historias. Realmente lo disfrute muchísimo y me gustaría leer más trabajos de este autor.

15.- Agamemnon - Aeschylus

🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

I am weak for the greek plays. And this rocks so much. Chlymenestra is a queen, I stan her so hard. This play always makes me feel so bad for Cassandra, like how shitty is it to have the power to make super accurate predictions but no one ever believes you???

[drabblesanddreams]

Black and White- Fyodor Dostoevsky

This turned out so much longer than i planned it to be sorry folks!! But this imagine i tried making it slightly diff than the imagines, i honestly wouldnt say its romantic tbh it also doesnt have as much fyodor as i planned for there to be sadly :(( but let me know what yall think!! also im on vacation again this time for a month so im so sorry yall if i cant post as much!!

word count: 2.5k

summary: The black and white of your world holds a whole new meaning when you meet him.

TW: Hints towards depression a lot, really depressing dialogue 

The day before he came into your life everything was black and white. A perfect world encased in various shades of grey, shrouded in a two-tone hue of barrenness and desolation.

The light that poured into your world started off as a warmth seemingly brought forth by an angel. But slowly, before you could even realize it at the time, the warmth grew more and more intense the longer you spent time with him. It grew and grew until that once comforting warmth turned into a scalding sensation, burning your touch along with the pretty pictures of your life. It burned the new-found colours until you saw yourself left in the end with no picture at all, surrounded by the darkness that once upon a time was all you knew.

In the end, you horrifically realized that he was no angel at all.

He liked to claim that he was a god, but you didn’t believe his words even from your first meeting up until the last. You knew better than that, in the end, he was more so like Lucifer.

Once an angel indeed, you suppose so judging from not only his carefully crafted facade of a morally virtuous persona but also his physical features.

You remembered the first day he came into the music shop that you worked at, his angelic features drew and ensnared your attention almost immediately.

That particular day it was snowing lightly, the white flakes gently building on top of one another until the city was a buried underneath one of the worlds most beautiful creations.

Beautiful, untainted white snow with unique patterns pressed onto each flake. However, when mingled with the rest of its own kind, it was as ordinary as it could ever be to the naked eye. An average speck who will never stand apart from the rest of its kind and will instead be overshadowed by those who come after it.

Much like you.

Despite the gloomy thoughts, it didn’t make the snow any less cold.

“Shit,” you scowled as a gust of cold air blew into the store, taking with it a flurry of snowflakes, “Hurry up and shut the door behind you, Ann.”

The person in question was your friend and the sole reason you had this shitty job working as a cashier at the music store. Her family had hired you purely out pity when your parents died. You were at the tender age of 12 at the time.

You liked that word. Died. It was straight to the point, no bullshit and no cushioning of the hard blow it delivered. You remembered at the funeral how the many unrecognizable people who had attended came up to you, choking out apologies for your late parents.

Or how they passed away.

Or how they were deceased.

Died. Dead. Death. It didn’t matter, you liked the foreign comfort the words gave you. It meant that the world you spent so much time analyzing was the same as you made it out so sure to be. It meant that one day you too were going to “pass away” and your existence would then blend into the hundreds of thousands of those who lived and died before you.

And then, you’d be forgotten.

You never figured out why that morbid thought was so relieving to you.

Ann rolls her eyes, shaking you out of your stupor and back into the real world. She closes the door behind her but not before ruffling her hair free of snowflakes, this action allowing another draught of frigid air to enter.

“Okay miss grumpy, chillax ‘kay?” she teases and it's your turn to roll your (e/c) eyes as she slips off her coat, tossing it behind the cash register.

“Besides,” she continues as she takes a seat next to you behind the register, “Your shift is up in literally ten minutes so you can go home and sleep.”

You look at her from the corner of your eye as you rest your cheek in the palm of your hand. She has taken to sorting the receipts silently for a moment before she asks, “How long did you sleep for last night?”

You blink a couple of times before realizing the exhaustion must be painted so easily on your face. The purple eyebags decorating your face must not be a pretty sight. You can feel the weight of your own existence pulling you downwards, like all you want is to crawl under the covers and fall asleep to a mixture of winter and Chopin. Today has hit you particularly hard, but you don’t let her know that.

Inhaling through your nose, you sit up right before casually replying, “Seven hours give or take”

She beams at the easy lie as she nods approvingly, “Making progress, good.”

All you do is shrug, its been a slow day all you want to do it go back home. There have barely been any customers and the shop is completely empty at the moment save for the both of you.

‘Anyways,” her tone changes to one full of pep, “Can I tell you about my tinder date? I’m gonna tell you about my tinder date” she doesn’t wait for your approval.

You snort, standing up as you make your way over to the hanging instruments opposite on the wall. You intend to straighten them up again for the millionth time, the slightest crook getting on your nerves.

She takes this action as a sign to go on, “So, I swiped on this guy na-“

She is cut off by the soft chime of bells filling the small store indicating a customer has entered.

Before even moving, you feel the cold air gently sweep across your exposed skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

You turn your head to the door, your hand pausing on its readjustment of the violin hanging on the wall.

A tall slim young man, maybe somewhere aged in the mid 20s has entered, his seemingly delicate pale hand pressed against the window of the door. His shoulder length black hair falls softly onto his shoulders, ensnared underneath a ushanka as white as the snow that has entered the store. The white snowflakes stand out against his long black coat.

He searches around the shop for a moment before his eyes catch onto yours. That’s when the air leaves your lungs and you feel a shiver run down your spine.

Never in your life had you ever met a man so…so…beautiful.

Beautiful was an understatement, he was simply breathtaking.

The most striking thing about his visage, however, were his eyes.

Purple eyes. Never in your life had you ever met anyone with that particular eye colour. But it was more than that, it was the sharp look in them as well.

You felt yourself tense up at your eye contact, something about this man was unsettling you quite so. You can barely breathe, your body shrinking back into itself as all you wanted to do was run and run. You wish you had an ability that enabled you to do so.

His eyes flickered downwards before they moved upwards to catch your eyes once more and it was then that you felt so exposed. Like an insect underneath a microscope, completely visible and naked.

Compared with his striking features, you no longer felt human standing next to this man.

Suddenly, someone clears their throat, effectively breaking the silent game of observation occurring between you and this stranger.

You turn your head to the source, Ann, who raises an eyebrow at your impolite and reclusive behavior. Even more reclusive than usual.

She turns her head to the customer, interest taking over her features as she too realizes just how otherworldly this man is.

She wears a charming smile, “Hello sir, can I help you with anything today?”

“Good day,” the stranger says, the words rolling off his tongue in a seductive Russian drawl and you feel yourself heat up. You turn away, busying yourself with straightening the instruments once more.

Ann’s got this; you’ll just ignore him.

“I was wondering, do you perchance sell cello’s here?” he asks smoothly. Your hands freeze on the cello you were adjusting and briefly wonder for a moment why he even asked when you know he clearly saw it behind you with that little stare off just a few moments ago.

Ann confirms that, yes, we do sell cello’s here.

And when she asks what particular one, he is looking for, she mistakenly points towards a Franz Sandner instead of an August Kohr.

You take the liberty of correcting her.

“Its actually this one,” you quietly point out her mistake and effectively drawing the stranger’s attention back towards you. Beside him, Ann glowers knowing that you have somehow ruined her plan of seducing the customer with talk of a cello.

You wish you didn’t because the fear that washes over you feels stronger than before.

“Okay well,” Ann glowers at you, “I’m pretty your shift is up, (Y/N).”

You falter at her statement before swallowing and nodding. You weren’t going to fight over something that wasn’t worth fighting over.

You’re glad at your friend’s dismissal, as it means that you can get away from that man’s burning gaze asap. You make quick work of gathering your belongings and making your way to the exit, to freedom.

All the while, your heart beats quick for an entirely different reason

Because for the first time you feel fear on behalf of your friend’s safety, as the distance between you and the pair grow larger and larger.

-

You’re were right to feel worried over the protection of your friend, because two weeks later under the same frigid weather, you are staring down her coffin.

It’s eerily similar to how her funeral likens to the one of your parents. If you shut your eyes really tightly and pretend for a moment that you are fourteen, it is exactly the same funeral.

Life goes on.

Except the biggest difference between this time is that this was no accident.

You’re good at observations, spending more of your life alone and isolated left you with the only thing to pass the time; watching people.

Putting two and two, you know now that this a murder caused by no one other than that man in the shop. You don’t know how but you know for sure that he possesses some sort of ability. After all, you don’t what sort of weapon could make that kind of wound in her head.

Currently, you’re the only one left in the graveyard. The sun is setting soon but you pay no mind to that fact and instead tilt your head upwards, watching the snow lightly fall around you and, on the coffin, -Ann’s coffin.

You hear the familiar sound of shoes treading on snow, but you don’t bother looking to see and instead focuses on the number of snowflakes covert he lid of the coffin.

“What a miserable affair,” a voice sighs, the smooth Russian accent unforgettable to you, “Wouldn’t you agree?”

You turn your head to see the devil himself, you should be vengeful and raging right now. A small part of you wants to jump at him, tearing his pretty face apart with your nails and to just watch the blood draw and spill. But as quick as that thought appeared, it disappears for at the moment you just don’t care.

You have nothing left. The logical part of you know that’s it will not bring her back; the only family you had left. You have nothing anymore.

But this time your anxiety is non-existent, you don’t feel afraid. In fact, you don’t feel much of anything at the moment.

From your apathy or the cold, you’re not quite so sure which. You close your mouth before opening it once more.

“It wasn’t sad,” you simply say, relishing in the slightest sign of surprise that registers on his handsome face. You look deeply into those purple hues of his, admiring for a moment before you continue, “It was boring.”

You turn your head back to the coffin and blankly blink at the slight buildup that you have missed.

“Boring,” he repeats, “Such is the debility of human existence, such things take the liberty of latching onto my heart from time to time”

You let his words sink for a moment.

“No, it doesn’t,” you softly deny, “Not to you” “May I perhaps ask why?”

You turn your head to him, the first sign of emotion crossing your visage as you stare hard, “Because you’re not human.”

You say this statement with so much confidence and let it ring in the air. The man takes this fact in before smirking, “Then what could I possibly be?”

You don’t hesitate to answer, “A devil.” If he is offended, he doesn’t show it and instead chuckles lightly, purple eyes dancing with joy. At what, you have no clue, but you feel yourself recoil at this.

“No little bird,” he smirks drops into a soft smile, “I think you will find that I am more of a god than anything.”

Your eyebrows furrow for a moment as you study him. He breaks your eye contact to look at the coffin in front of both of you. He then answers your unasked question.

“The sinful nature of humans demands to be cleansed.” He utters into the empty space, and you raise both brows in interest at this statement. You follow his gaze to the coffin before tracing it back to his eyes.

Sinful. How could a young girl commit a sin so grave she had to answer with it for her life? Who was this man to judge her for that?

“And what of my human nature?” you quietly ask. He turns back to you, “Oh but little bird,” corners of his mouth tilt upwards and his eyes flash as if he knows something you don’t. Your heart rate raises as you wait for him to finish his sentence.

“You’re not much of a human anymore, are you?”

Your mouth falls agape slightly and your blood turns into ice easily.

“In fact,” he continues, suddenly taking a step forward, reaching forward to caress your cheek, “You’re not much of anything anymore” he whispers.

His thumb presses slightly against your bottom lip and your eyes flicker downwards before meeting his again. Your mouth dries.

“Correct?” he asks venomlike.

You’re ensnared into his trap as you nod, but you barely register the movement.

“Good.” He steps back and his smile is back as he holds his hand out.

“Seeing as you no longer have a place in this world little bird,” he says calmly, “Come with me and let me seat you among the stars.”

You don’t hesitate in taking his hand, somewhere in the back of your head a part of you is screaming, saying you are walking into the exact same trap that your friend has walked into.

But you don’t care, because you are sick of seeing the white of the snow and the black of your soul.

If that means walking into the lion’s den of the man named Fyodor Dostoevsky, then so be it.

At least it’ll mean a small part of you will have meaning again.

[danatole-headcanons]

Normal

Merry nonspecific winter holiday, folks have some angst (ill be posting more of this the more i write) 

“Isn’t it normal?”

Pierre stopped what he was doing, paperweight still in his hand. Time seemed to stand still in the moments he started at the youngest Kuragin, the only sound audible being Fyodor’s choked-up sobbing. Pierre bent down, his knees shaking, and offered his hand to Anatole. He didn’t know what he was doing, or why, but he did it anyway. Anatole trembled as he took Pierre’s hand, his blue eyes glassy and red.

“Don’t exhaust yourself, here.”

Pierre scooped Anatole up and carried him to the couch, wrapping him in blankets. He did the same with Dolokhov, who put up so little of a fight Pierre would’ve thought he was asleep if not for the hiccups coming from him.

“You two, no talking to each other, no looking at each other, don’t even think about each other. I’m going to be right back, okay?”

No movement from either of them. That’s a yes, then. Pierre took a deep breath and got out his phone, walking into his bedroom. Dialing a number, he sat on his bed and thought.

He was broken out of his thoughts when a chipper voice answered the phone.

“Hi! Natasha Rostova here! Who is this?”

Pierre smiled serenely. Natasha was always so happy all the time, not to mention naive, and a hopeless romantic, too. It was really no wonder how the girl fell for Anatole.

“Hello, Natalya. It’s me, Pierre Bezukhov? I was wondering if you could come over right now. I know it’s late, and we haven’t talked, but it’s a bit of an emergency.”

Natasha paused for a second.

“Hello Pierre! Um, of course I’ll come over, especially if it’s an emergency. What emergency, though?”

“Um, it has to do with a friend of mine… he says he knows you? I’d rather not give anymore details away though, he’s not in the most stable of conditions...”

“Oh! I see, I’ll get Marya to drive me over there ASAP. See you, Pierre.”

“Goodbye, Natalya.”

Pierre sighed, pocketing his phone. Hopefully, this’ll end in a heart-to-heart-to-heart, not bloodshed. He shook his head solemnly and walked back to the living room.

He wasn’t surprised to see Fyodor asleep on his couch, still rolled up in blankets in the fetal position. Anatole, however, was in his kitchen. He was sitting on the counter, wearing a quilt like a superman cape, eating a box of ritz crackers, and staring off into the distance woefully.

Both of them didn’t react to Pierre’s reentrance at all. Infact, Anatole didn’t seem to be in this plane of existence.

“Anatole, come here. Someone’s coming over, you can guess who, and you’re having a heart to heart with Fyodor.”

No movement.

“Anatole, please.”

Still nothing.

“Anatole, please, I want to help.”

Still… nothing.

“Fine, eat your crackers, I’m going to go wait for our guest.”

Pierre turned away slowly and began walking out of the kitchen.

[danatole-headcanons]

Normal (continued)

o worm im feeling generous have the rest of Normal 

“Isn’t it normal?”

Pierre stopped what he was doing, paperweight still in his hand. Time seemed to stand still in the moments he started at the youngest Kuragin, the only sound audible being Fyodor’s choked-up sobbing. Pierre bent down, his knees shaking, and offered his hand to Anatole. He didn’t know what he was doing, or why, but he did it anyway. Anatole trembled as he took Pierre’s hand, his blue eyes glassy and red.

“Don’t exhaust yourself, here.”

Pierre scooped Anatole up and carried him to the couch, wrapping him in blankets. He did the same with Dolokhov, who put up so little of a fight Pierre would’ve thought he was asleep if not for the hiccups coming from him.

“You two, no talking to each other, no looking at each other, don’t even think about each other. I’m going to be right back, okay?”

No movement from either of them. That’s a yes, then. Pierre took a deep breath and got out his phone, walking into his bedroom. Dialing a number, he sat on his bed and thought.

He was broken out of his thoughts when a chipper voice answered the phone.

“Hi! Natasha Rostova here! Who is this?”

Pierre smiled serenely. Natasha was always so happy all the time, not to mention naive, and a hopeless romantic, too. It was really no wonder how the girl fell for Anatole.

“Hello, Natalya. It’s me, Pierre Bezukhov? I was wondering if you could come over right now. I know it’s late, and we haven’t talked, but it’s a bit of an emergency.”

Natasha paused for a second.

“Hello Pierre! Um, of course I’ll come over, especially if it’s an emergency. What emergency, though?”

“Um, it has to do with a friend of mine… he says he knows you? I’d rather not give anymore details away though, he’s not in the most stable of conditions...”

“Oh! I see, I’ll get Marya to drive me over there ASAP. See you, Pierre.”

“Goodbye, Natalya.”

Pierre sighed, pocketing his phone. Hopefully, this’ll end in a heart-to-heart-to-heart, not bloodshed. He shook his head solemnly and walked back to the living room.

He wasn’t surprised to see Fyodor asleep on his couch, still rolled up in blankets in the fetal position. Anatole, however, was in his kitchen. He was sitting on the counter, wearing a quilt like a superman cape, eating a box of ritz crackers, and staring off into the distance woefully.

Both of them didn’t react to Pierre’s reentrance at all. Infact, Anatole didn’t seem to be in this plane of existence.

“Anatole, come here. Someone’s coming over, you can guess who, and you’re having a heart to heart with Fyodor.”

No movement.

“Anatole, please.”

Still nothing.

“Anatole, please, I want to help.”

Still… nothing.

“Fine, eat your crackers, I’m going to go wait for our guest.”

Pierre turned away slowly and began walking out of the kitchen.

“It’s alright, isn’t it? People do that all the time.”

Pierre turned back around to face Anatole. 

He was still looking off into the distance, nothing about him changed.

“I’m just exploring my sexuality, I didn’t really hurt anyone. Right?”

“Anatole, I-”

“Fedya’s fine, he’s just been stressed, that’s all.”

“Anatole, please, wait-”

“I’m not the reason,” He turned, tears welling up in his eyes.

“Right, Pierre?”

Pierre stepped forward. He thought of the things he’d been hoping someone would say to him one day, before opening his mouth.“Look, Anatole. It’s complicated. People are complicated. But, if you want, you can sit in the living room, and talk about everything. We won’t judge, we just want answers. And even if you committed terrible actions, your actions don’t make who you are. Everyone here is your friend, and we love, and support you. Now get down from there, you’ll break a leg, or a plate.”

About twenty awkward minutes passed before Natasha arrived at the house. She looked incredible, even at 10 pm, way better than Pierre probably looked. She waved goodbye to Marya before stepping in. 

“Hey, Pierre, how’re you? Is your friend okay?”

Pierre sighed, looking down.

“I’m fine, thanks, why don’t you come in? I’ll make cocoa, if you want. It’s pretty cold.”

“That’d be nice, thanks.”

Natasha walked past Pierre, into the large manor-like house. It looked basically like it always did. Cream-coloured walls adorned with paintings, bathed in dim yellow light from the lamp in the corner. A large, red couch sat in the far side of the room, covered in golden throw pillows. And on said couch, sat a bundle of someone in the fetal position.

 “Hey, Pierre, who’s this on the couch?”

“Oh, that’s… Dolokhov. Don’t wake him up yet, okay?”

“Um… sure.”

Dolokhov? Fyodor Dolokhov? The reckless, manipulative bastard that dated Sonya and cheated her brother out of nearly 2,500 bucks? He couldn’t have been the one who wanted to see her. There was no way.Was there?

“Hey, Pierre,” She took a step around the couch. “Is Dolokhov the one-?”

Her sentence was cut short as her foot hit something, her body hitting the floor with a dull thud. She whipped around to find two of the bluest, saddest eyes staring back at hers. It was him. He was there, and he looked like utter shit. Anatole Kuragin, the man she had fallen in love with because of his looks and charm, was sitting there in a blanket cape, clutching his knees, eating out of a nearly-empty box of crackers, it looked like. And he was staring at her. 

“A-Anatole?”

He didn’t move. No change in expression, no twitch of movement, no anything. He didn’t even seem to register her existence. He just stared in her general direction.

“Anatole, what are you doing here? I thought you left town, did you lie to me again?”

There was a slight, steady pressure on her shoulder as a cup of hot chocolate was placed in front of her face.

“See, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Please, come sit.”

He gestured to a comfy looking armchair in front of the fireplace. She slowly walked over to it as Pierre picked up Anatole and placed him next to Dolokhov on the sofa. A small, distressed noise escaped Anatole as he was lifted away from the box of ritz on the floor. It would be amusing if not for the circumstance.  

“Here, Anatole, it’s for you.”

Natasha watched as Anatole took the cup with trembling hands, pulling it close to him like one might with a stuffed animal.

“So, Natalya,” Pierre started. “You dated Anatole for a while, correct?”

She nodded, her brows furrowing. “Yes, I did.”

“Well… today he came over here looking for Helene. He said something about his father? And Dolokhov? Um, anyway, Dolokhov came over, also looking for Helene. They started fighting, and Dolokhov explained to me what happened. And then some more stuff happened, and Anatole asked if it was normal and so I called you…” He looked down sheepishly. “So, yeah. That’s what happened.”

Natasha blinked, glancing at the two on the couch.

“So… I’m here why?”

“Well, I thought maybe you’d know something about what Anatole said. Since you two were so close.”

Natasha placed her mug on the coffee table. Taking in the house.

“Wait, but I thought you lived with Anatole for a while? Didn’t you notice anything?”

Pierre let out a sigh as he looked up at her.

“Yeah, I did. But I wasn’t really at the house a lot. And when I was, most of the family was gone, save for Ippolit. And I never really talked to him.”

“Didn’t you think to question them? I don’t think Ippolit would’ve minded being asked any questions.”

“True, but I didn’t want to lose my room there if I did. Plus, Anatole was really clumsy. So I mostly brushed off his wounds as his own doing.”

The room was silent for the next few minutes aside from Dolokhov’s soft snoring.

Natasha picked at her nails, gazing at Anatole through her peripherals.