#fyodor and nikolai almost only go by fedya and kolya

[chr0n1c-ag0ny]

Fyodor/Nikolai/Sigma, domestic au, but they are painfully slavic and living their best lives, is something that can be so personal.

(this post took forever cause I essentially had to make it twice. I didn't look at what blog I originally posted this to the first time round. shoot me)

[luvfy0dor]

“And My Daddy Tells Me I Light Up His World ♡” Dad!Bsd Drabbles ੈ✩‧₊˚

╰┈➤ Chuuya Nakahara, Osamu Dazai, Fyodor Dostoevsky

Warnings; Line breaks between indented paragraphs mean new scenarios, girl dads, d/n- daughters name, s/n-sons name, p/t-parental title for reader

Description; a couple different scenarios, 2 for Fyodor, 1 for Dazai, 1 for Chuuya

A/n; just so u guys do know I giggle every single time I type out d/n, also also I've got a req still about dad Fyodor in my inbox but I don't know why it's so hard for me to write it 3: I'll get it out ong, im so sorry dad fyodor anon </3 consider this tribute to you 3: also next post's gonna be for the event! Had to rewrite it.

Fyodor Dostoevsky ★

Fyodor stood in the kitchen, accompanied by his young daughter sitting at the dining table. In his hand was a letter to Nikolai, written a week ago that he had finally decided to mail. He grabs an envelope before rummaging through drawers while his daughter colors idly across the room. She peers up at him from her spot and hops out of her chair, coloring paper in hand. "what're you looking for, papa?" She asks, looking up at him with her e/c eyes, the ones that matched yours perfectly. He smiled at her and closed the drawer he was looking through. "Just a pen, malyshka. Do you know where I could find one?" He asks her, looking down at her. She nods and fetches one of the pens from her big bag of coloring supplies, digging through it for a quick second before returning to him with her arm outstretched and a glittery pink gel pen in her small hands. "This is okay, right, papa? Who's the letter going to?" He takes it appreciatively and writes out Nikolais name and address. "Uncle Kolya, and any pen you give me will do, sweetheart." He gives the pen back to her and ruffles her hair. "Oh, uncle Kolya will just love it, then! I'm pretty sure his favorite color is pink. I'm gonna color this for him so that the next time he comes over he'll have a present from me!" She says with excitement, skipping back over to her seat at the table to resume her coloring. "Oh, ofcourse, d/n." After Fyodor mailed the letter, he soon got a response from Nikolai expressing his disappointment over the letter not being fully written in pink gel pen, which was backed up by his daughter as well.

You stood in yours and your husbands bedroom, buttoning his shirt for him while he watched the numbers flicker and change on the alarm clock on your nightstand. Your daughters school was hosting a daddy-daughter dance and your daughter insisted on Fyodor taking her. He agreed obviously, but he felt unfamiliar with such things, after all, he'd never experienced a daddy-daughter dance in his childhood. You gave him a smile once you buttoned his shirt and grabbed the only tie he owned off the dresser. "You look so good, Fedya. Like a prince." You said with a smile, leaning in to kiss the corner of his lips. He hummed and guided your chin with his fingers to kiss his lips completely. "Just a prince? Not a king?" His eyes were half lidded as always and you could make out a small smile on his face. "Alright, fine, a king." You finished tying his tie for him and left it slightly loose around his neck, knowing he was never really fond of how tight they could be. "Perfect, that would make d/n our little princess." Almost as if summoned, her footsteps are heard pattering down the hallway in her cute little flats that you got for her. The dress that she wore was adorned with puffy, mesh layers on the skirt and some gemstones on the top. "Papa, are you ready to go yet? " she asks, walking over to his side and examining his outfit thoroughly and gasping excitedly. "Papa, your tie matches my dress!" She says, pointing out the same colored material. "It does." He picks her up with a smile. "Do I look pretty?" She asks, a big, toothy grin on her face. He laughs and nods.

"Absolutely, now go say goodbye to p/t." He says, putting her down onto the ground so she could hug you and bid you a goodbye. "Bye, p/t!!" She says, squeezing you quite tightly. You hug her back and kiss her head, looking down at her. "Bye, sweetheart, I love you. Oh- wait! Before you go I want a picture of you and papa." You fish your phone from your back pocket and open the camera app as she backs up and hugs her papa just as tightly as she held you. Fyodor places his hand on her back while they both smile for the photo, but wince all of a sudden as your phones flash goes off. "Oh- whoops, I forgot to turn the flash off- for real this time." They both pose again, d/n giggling at your small mistake. You snapped it and then examined it on the phone before your daughter started pleading to see it. Fyodors smile was as charming as always, both in person and in the photo, and your daughter looked absolutely adorable in her poofy dress. Once you had shown her and she was satisfied, she quickly made her way out of the room, holding the skirt of her dress by the handfuls. Fyodor laughed at her under his breath before he leaned in to kiss you once more before he left, letting his hand linger on your hip like his taste did on your lips. "Bye, Fedya, I love you, have fun." You grin, to which he lets out a sigh. "I will, I love you too, Moya Lyubov." He pulls away and follows the young girl out of the bedroom. You smiled to yourself as you heard him call from down the hallway, "Wait, malyshka, don't go out the door so fast", followed by the prompt creeking and closing of the door.

Osamu Dazai ★

No one got the memo that it was apparently 'bring your kid to work's day', but everyone had to adjust rather quickly when Dazai pulled up to the Ada with a young child on his hip, oogling at any shiny object in its sight. Kunikida was the first to ask about it. "Is this another orphan that you've decided to pick up off the streets? It's too young for a job here." Dazai rolled his eyes. "For your information, this is my son. His babysitter has come down with the flu." He clarifies, walking past everyone to his desk and sitting the one year old on his lap. The baby leans towards him and reaches for the tassels of his bolo tie, grabbing and pulling on them to his mouth. Dazai laughs and gently pulls them out of the little boys grasp. "No, s/n, you can't chew on those." His son pouts and coos out some baby nonsense, starting to look around for some other entertainment, only to find nothing that interests him. He looks up at his dad with his big brown eyes and pouts, huffing and gripping his long jacket in his chubby fists. "Papa, 'ome." He babbles, missing the comfort of yours and Dazais house and preferring to be there over the agency. "I know, s/n, believe me. I'd rather be at home than sitting here with these people." He says, sighing and shaking his head. "Just keep him from crying." Kunikida says exasperatedly while writing a report from the last case he worked on for Fukuzawa. Dazai hums in acknowledgement and turns the baby to face away from him, keeping him sat on his lap. "My boy doesn't cry, he's nothin' like those other babies." He says with a grin, grabbing a pen and wrapping his son's hand around it and helping him drag it acrossed the closest paper on Dazais desk. "Yeah, just get a feel for holding the pen and as soon as you can write on your own, daddy's never doin' his own reports again." He grins. "Your son isn't doing any paperwork for the agency until he joins. And that still doesn't mean he'll be doing yours." Kunikida says from his desk. Dazai shakes his head and lets go of his sons arm. "Ugh, whatever... Kunikida doesn't gotta know if I bring it home though." He whispers to the boy, evoking an unaware giggle. Kunikida let out a knowing huff and gave up on trying.

Chuuya Nakahara ★

After his little girl had asked him on numerous occasions for a trip to the fair, he was finally able to get some time off and go with you and her. He weaved through the crowds with her on his shoulders and his hand in yours while trying to decide on one final game for your daughter to play before you left.. "Papa, look! They have fish!" D/n exclaimed, pointing at the booth that ran the famous goldfish game that parents never want their kids to see. Not Chuuya though. He's nothin' like y'all. Chuuya didn't mind the idea of having a fish for his daughter, even if it was him who had to feed it every day and clean it's tank regularly. He smiled and looked over at you with eyes that asked you if you were in mutual agreement of letting her try to win a goldfish. You smiled back at him and nodded, noticing your daughter watching the two of you exchange your glances. "Alright sweetheart, let's go get ya one of them fish." He walks over to the stand with you, lifting her off of his shoulders while you handed the carnie a $5 bill for a basket of ten ping pong balls. Chuuya watched d/n try to toss the first five into one of the colorful mini-fishbowls and miss every single one, so he grabbed a ball and tossed it, getting it into one of them. The man running the game cheers and heads to get d/n her fish, but she ends up getting two of the last four balls in on her own, nearly shrieking in excitement. "Daddy, that means I get three fishes, right?" She excitedly asks, her hair bouncing in the pigtail style it was pulled into. "Yup, that's right." He smiles at the carnie when he hands the fish to him and mutters an appreciative thank you, patting his daughters back and telling her to do the same. "Thank you! P/t, can we get them a tank at home?" She asks, still super hyper from her triple win. You laugh and nod, holding two of the fish so Chuuya doesn't have to hold all three and your daughter if she chooses she's too tired to walk to the car. "Yeah, we'll stop at the pet store to get you a nice tank for them." You tell her, nodding for her to follow you and Chuuya grabbing her hand so she doesn't get lost. "What do you say to daddy? He got you one of those." You say with a small laugh and she looks up at her dad with big, adoring eyes. "Thank you, daddy! Ahh, I'm so excited for my fishes!" Her misunderstanding of the plural version of fish also makes you giggle a little. "You're welcome, princess. Y'gonna take real good care of them? Remind me to feed 'em every day?" He says, guiding you guys through the parked cars towards your own. "Yup! Every single morning! But what're we gonna do when I'm at school and you and p/t are working? What about their lunch?" She frowns. "Fish don't need lunch, don't worry." He reassures her and hands you the third bagged fish for a moment while buckling d/n into her seat. "Good, I don't want them to starve!" She says. Chuuya laughs under his breath and closes the backseat door, pulling out a cigarette to smoke before taking the sorta-long drive to the pet store and home. Now he had three more responsibilities, but it made his baby happy, so he really didn't mind having to take care of three more animals in addition to his original one.

A/n; yawns speed ran these, wrote Chuuyas in like,, 12 minutes, it's not proofread (js Chuuyas) but hopefully it works (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧ also I'd like to come out and say ion proofread my own stuff, I have my friends do it (I love you guys MWAH)

[catmelonwriting]

Hiiii!!! Can I request some Akutagwa, Ranpo, Fyodor, and Nikolai (if that’s not to many, if it is just choose who you want to write for) with little sister!reader who thinks their incestuous relationship is weird but goes along with it as their the only family they have left

(Sorry if this was worded weirdly, this is my first time ever requesting something so I tried to type it out as clearly as I could)

Mmm Incrst (title by my boyfriend)

Warnings: Incest, slight physical abuse in Fyodor's part, dubcon/tiniest bit of noncon, uncomfortable sibling things, angst no comfort in akutagawa's

Characters: Akutagawa, Fyodor, Nikolai

Translations: кролик = Bunny

A/N: I was gonna write Ranpo but then I got halfway through his and I hated it so I deleted it mb guys 😭 i also really really hate this idk

Fyodor

You were sitting on his lap in his office, while he stared at an array of monitors he wouldn't allow you to look at. No matter how many times you turned your head to get a glance, he'd just tut and forcibly move your head back to burying in his chest. You felt a soft sigh escape your lips when he started bouncing his thigh under you. You grumble out a "Fedya..."

"Yes, кролик?" He speaks slowly, stilling his leg. "Don't you think it's a little.. weird.. to do that to your sister?" You mutter, attempting to slide off his lap, his strong arm catching your waist and holding you on top of his thigh. You feel his hands grab your chin to force you to look up at him, but you fight it as best as you can, earning you a harsh slap on the cheek.

You let out a short yelp, letting him take hold of your chin again, forcibly shoving your face up to meet his eyes.

"What did you say, кролик? Go on, repeat it. I wanna hear you say it again." You swallow, letting out a short sigh. "Um.. I just said.. it's a little weird to treat your sister like this." You mutter, barely audible as you let out another yelp when he pushes you off his lap onto the floor "Fedya!" You yell, about to glare at him before you notice the 'you'll stop if you know what's good for you' look on his face, and you immediately stare down at the floor again, not daring to get up.

"Cmon, кролик. You know I love you.. I'm just.. showing my affection." He says softly, and you would almost believe his tone of voice, that he's not upset, if you hadn't glanced up yet again and saw that terrifying, sadistic look on his face.

"Yes, yes I know." You say sharply, frantically moving to stand up, however unfortunately for you he already crouched down next to you, his strong arm forcing you down onto the floor. "Are you sure? You're not acting like it. Should I teach you a little lesson? Perhaps some more training?"

"No, no! Fedya!! It's okay, it's okay.. I don't need a lesson.. I don't need any training." You whimper. "Mm.. alright, Myshka. I'll trust you. But if I ever hear another word about this, you aren't escaping this so easily. Now get out of my office." He mumbles, pushing you up and away towards the door, of course, you scurry off and towards your room, praying you really had escaped what ever 'training' he planned to give you.

Nikolai

You were laying in the bed Nikolai had insisted you share. Of course, you didn't want too, you found it weird and embarrassing to have your brother's arms wrapped around your waist pulling you close at night, but he wouldn't hear it. He was just keeping you safe!

You felt the mattress dip next you, and you mutter a hello and turn onto your side so you didn't have to face him and that stupid smirk you knew would be on his face. "Awww.. is my little dovey feeling shy?" He spoke, his voice dripping with condescension.

You let out a huff as he grabbed your shoulder and forced you down onto your back, staring up at him, his strong hand remained on your shoulder, holding you down. "God, Kolya, you're so weird!" You yell, pushing his arm up and off of you, turning back on your side.

Your face contorts when you hear him let out a sharp cackle, god, how could he find your discomfort funny? Sometimes he was a good brother, buying you pretty clothes and expensive perfume, other times he'd pin you down and force you to take him. You didn't understand it.

"Awwe, c'mere sweetheart." He whispered, grabbing hold of your waist and pulling you up, onto his lap. He tilted your head with his other hand and went down on your neck, leaving wet kisses, hickeys, and love bites all while you squirmed around whimpering for him to stop, that it's too embarrassing! Someone's gonna see the marks! Of course he didn't care.

"Kolya.. I don't want anymore.. I already have all the ones from last week!" You grumble, crossing your arms, eventually giving up on the squirming. "Awww, but they're fading! Don't you want everyone to see what a good girl you are? How obedient you can be for your big brother?" He giggled, his voice soft and sweet.

You just sigh and let him keep going, knowing he won't stop anytime soon.

Akutagawa

You follow the smell of cigarette smoke out to the back porch, where your older brother say with his legs crossed, a cigarette between his lips. "Hey, Ryū." You mumble, sitting down next to him and leaning your head on his shoulder.

You whine when he blows the smoke in your face, pushing him away lightly as you turn your head and cough. "Stop doing that." You grumble, turning back to him as he lets out a dry chuckle, not even turning to look at you. "Do you know where Gin is?" You sigh and rest your head in your hand, it always seemed like he cared for Gin more than you.

"She's at the grocery store, getting more fresh produce. We don't have a lot" he grunted in response, taking another puff from his cigarette. "Ryūnosuke?" You say his name gently, looking up at him. He stares down at you. "What, (name)?" His voice is weirdly calm compared to usual.

"Do you love me?" Your voice was squeaky, like you were going to cry. You hated it, you hated him seeing you as weak. He didn't like weak people, he told you that on a daily basis. "I don't use that word, darling." He grumbles, looking back up at the sky. You can't help but glare at him.

"you're so.. weird, Ryūnosuke. Some days you're kissing my neck and telling me I'm such a 'good little slut' other days you're acting like.. like this!" You glare, standing up and looking down at him.

"Yeah well, maybe you should act like a good little slut more often than, instead of a bitchy little sibling. Maybe then I'd like you more." He glares at you, and you storm off, the whole time memories of watching Ryūnosuke hold Gin and tell her it'll all be okay, cooking her meals, tucking her in all playing in your head.

You sit in your room and sob for the rest of the night. Gin, being an amazing older sister, of course checks up on you.. but you can't really explain to her that Ryūnosuke has treated her amazing and like real family her whole life, while you've just been a sex toy and a doll.

You didn't want to be his doll, you hated it, you hated the way he touched you and kissed you and held you but you could never stop him because you knew it was the only form of love you could ever get from a man like him.

[maislovebot]

200 followers event: fyodor x reader x nikolai

This is for my 200 followers event! Leave a request for it if you want:)

Contains: gn reader, nikolai is crazy per usual, very domestic, established relationship between the three of you, reader calls them ‘Fedya’ and ‘Kolya’, Nikolai tickles you briefly and playfully, Nikolai calls you ‘dear’ and Fyodor calls you ‘sweet’, proofread

You woke up to Fyodor having his arms wrapped around you, holding your chest close to his, and Nikolai wrapping his arms around your shoulders. He was holding one of your hands, and had his other ruffled in Fyodor’s hair. It was purely intimate, and you couldn’t help the smile that came onto your face. You always woke up before the both of them, as they were both heavy sleepers. Very heavy sleepers. You swore that there could be a thunderstorm and they would still sleep through it. You chuckled at the idea, rustling the sheets slightly. You were a little hot from being held between two other people, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world. You snuck your hand up and onto the side of Fyodor's face, squeezing Nikolai’s hand even tighter than before. He really did look so peaceful when he was sleeping. He was normally plotting something or other with a comically wicked grin on his face, so seeing him in such a domestic setting gave you butterflies.

Not to mention Nikolai. He was anything but peaceful, constantly kicking the sheets off of himself (and you in the process), unable to find a comfortable position before finally falling asleep, and by that point, he wouldn’t have been any different than a piece of stone. He would become a rock, unmoving. The only sign of life that would come from him would be the heavy rising and falling of his chest. Not to mention his braid. He refused to undo it in his sleep because he liked the wavy effect that it has on his hair, but there’s been a handful of times where you or Fyodor woke up to his braid tied around your neck. He would always swear it was an accident, but considering his track record, you weren’t so sure. Nonetheless, you would all laugh it off and Nikolai would let you rest in his lap while Fyodor rested his head against Nikolai’s shoulder and read. That was how your typical lazy weekend would go.

Whenever all three of you had freetime, this was your morning routine, but this, however, was not normal. Fyodor and Nikolai had had a rough day the night prior. Being an absolute menace to society was tiring after all. You could tell that they weren’t gonna be waking up for a while, and you decided to let them sleep in. They really did deserve it.

You didn’t want to wake them up, but you had things to do. Luckily because they’re such heavy sleepers, they didn’t wake up as you maneuvered your way out of the entanglement the three of you had created throughout the night. You rushed to the bathroom, hopping into the shower and taking good care of yourself. You felt clean and ready to take on the day, and by the time you were out and dressed in comfortable day clothes, Nikolai was awake and sitting on the bed, but Fyodor was still fast asleep.

“There you are!” Nikolai gestured for you to come back to the bed, almost hopping out of it before you gripped his shoulders and pointed towards Fyodor, slightly turning his body so he’d face him.

“I love you and how loud you are, but let's try and keep quiet for Fedya, yeah? He seems tired.” Nikolai gave a playful offended look, before falling backwards onto the bed, taking you with him.

“That seems backhanded!” Nikolai whisper-yelled.

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes, “let's stay like this for a little bit. I like it.”

Nikolai nodded, placing his hand in your hair and the other on his side as you wrapped your arms around his neck, burrowing in it.

Fyodor kept sleeping for a good thirty-five minutes after this, and when he finally did wake up he looked groggy and even more tired than before. Is it possible that he got too much sleep? Either way, you and Nikolai made your way over to Fyodor when he woke up, and Nikolai ruffled his already messy hair. Fyodor sighed, and stood up to get a hair brush to fix his, and now Nikolai’s, mess.

“Did I catch you at a bad time?” Nikolai asked, with a teasing smile on his face. Fyodor didn’t even acknowledge how Nikolai was joking and he nodded.

“I slept too much..”

You giggled, making your way over to Fyodor.

“I can tell. Want me to brush your hair for you?”

Fyodor nodded, turning around and resting his head on your shoulder. You smiled and turned to face Nikolai, and you noticed how messy his hair was too. The braid he had was half undone and was hanging on by a limb at this point. Very cute.

You made your way to the bed and let Fyodor sit on the edge of the bed on the floor, your knees overtop his shoulders. He tilted his head back and let you brush his hair, and it fell on the sides of his head and framed his face beautifully. Nikolai kept sitting on the back of the bed, looking at the sight. You two looked so cute. He crawled forward and rested his head on your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your waist. You couldn’t move, but it was fine. You didn’t want to anyways.

Fyodor’s hair is thick and a little on the longer side, so it was hard to brush through his hair without hurting him. Before he met you, Fyodor would practically yank his hair around and pull out at least a couple strands of hair whenever he brushed it. When you first saw him brushing his hair and saw him literally pulling his hair out, you volunteered to start brushing his hair for him.

Fyodor’s mind got flooded with the memory every time you brushed his hair, and it always made him smile fondly. He vividly remembered you scolding him over how little he took care of himself, only to pull him close and take care of him yourself.

He loved how gently you brush his hair. You grab it in sections to keep it from hurting when you brush it, only to run your hands through his hair once you’re done and scratch his scalp.

The moment was peaceful, but of course, Nikolai had to disturb it by tickling your sides. He was so sudden about it, you barely had a minute to process before you were grabbing his hands and trying to pull them off you while laughing like crazy! He’s so rude sometimes!

“K-Kolya—stop!” You couldn’t help the laughs that left your throat as you tried to not accidentally kick Fyodor, before he turned his head back and looked at what the commotion was.

“Kolya, stop it,” Fyodor stood up, “they were brushing my hair.”

Nikolai took his hands off you, raising his hands in the air comically.

“If you insist!”

Fyodor looked at him suspiciously, before sitting back down and huffing. “Don’t disturb them while they brush my hair.”

He’d never admit it, but you and Nikolai both knew he didn’t want you to stop because it felt good. It was calming, domestic, and romantic. You and Nikolai eyed each other, smiling at the knowledge Fyodor refused to share with you.

“Understood, sir!”

Nikolai stood up and made his way next to Fyodor, laying his head on his shoulder.

“Mind if I sit here?”

“Not at all,” Fyodor mumbled, his eyes closed and focused on the way your hands untangled his hair, “as long as you don’t start tickling me as a replacement.”

Fyodor smiled a little, looking over at Nikolai.

“I won’t, don't worry so much!”

The tone of voice was suspicious, but Fyodor chose to believe him.

“Mind if you brush my hair next?” Nikolai turned to you, a big smile on his face.

You sighed playfully, but ultimately nodded.

“Of course.”

Brushing Nikolai’s hair took sufficiently longer than Fyodor’s because it’s thick just like his, but about five times longer. But you got it done, and you fell backwards on the bed once you were done.

“My hand is cramping..” you shook your dominant hand back and forth trying to bring life back to it, but it didn’t work. You ultimately just rested it on your stomach until both boys came up and laid next to you, and Fyodor took your hand in his, rubbing your knuckles and palm.

“Where does it hurt?” Fyodor asked.

“On the side..” you rubbed where it hurt with your other hand, and Fyodor nodded, grabbing it. He rubbed small circles onto it to smooth it, and it worked for the most part. While Fyodor did that, Nikolai played with your hair, braiding whatever hair he could reach. The braid looked pathetic because you were laying down and he could only reach random locks of hair, but he managed. You loved it anyway.

Your hand feels much less stiff now.

“Thanks, Kolya. We’re twinning now.” Nikolai giggled, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close.

“Do you guys have to work today?”

“Probably,” Nikolai rolled his eyes, “but I don’t care. I wanna stay.”

You both looked at Fyodor, who was sitting next to you with his head resting on his hand.

“Yes, we do..but we won’t have to start till five to get enough work done. I suppose it can wait till then.”

You and Nikolai smiled, and you wrapped your legs around Fyodor’s, trying to signal him to come closer. Fyodor did as asked, coming closer to you yet again.

“I need to shower,” Fyodor said.

Nikolai yawned dramatically.

“So boring! Be fast!”

Fyodor nodded, detangling himself and making his way to your guys’ shared bathroom.

You and Nikolai sat in comfortable silence for a few moments, only for him to ruin it, per usual. He sat up and started talking your ear off about something or other, pulling you into his lap so he could be closer to you.

You didn’t really catch anything he was saying besides hearing the word ‘breakfast’, and you offered to make some.

“Were you listening to what I was saying?” Nikolai asked with a dumb smile on his face.

“Nope, not a word.”

Nikolai gasped, grabbing your shoulders, looking offended.

“I was saying that I never eat breakfast.”

“Well, do you want me to make some? We can have it done before Fedya’s out. You know how long he takes in there.”

Nikolai pondered for a few moments, before nodding and pushing you off of him playfully and running to the kitchen. You could only imagine what Fyodor thought you two were doing based off of the loud running noises alone.

You made your way to the kitchen, looking at your pantry for a few minutes before settling on making something sweet. Fyodor did have a surprising sweet tooth after all.

By the time Fyodor was out you had been done for a good fifteen minutes. Luckily it needed time to cool down.

He made his way to the kitchen because he heard the loud sounds of bowls falling from Nikolai’s hands, and he could smell whatever it was you had made. And it smelled good.

“What is this?” Fyodor questioned as he made his way down the stairs.

“We made breakfast!” Nikolai yelled out.

“I made breakfast. Nikolai just made a mess.”

Fyodor chuckled, stepping into the kitchen and sitting down. He had a towel around his shoulders to keep the water dripping off his hair from falling to the floor. It looked adorable. It looked cute as a whole, but just the fact that you were seeing him in such a domestic setting was odd, and even if you two have been together for quite some time now, it never fails to shock you.

Nikolai noticed the way you were staring at Fyodor, and he poked your cheek to make you look at him.

“Get your jaw off the floor, dear.”

“Oh, whatever.”

You walked up to Fyodor and pulled him closer to you. Nikolai walked back to a cupboard to grab plates for the three of you, then he got a kitchen knife and eavesdropped on your conversation while separating the dessert into pieces.

“Yeah, like he said, we made breakfast.”

“Thank you, sweet,” Fyodor sighed, “you know me too well.”

Wc - 2k

I hope you enjoyed:) I always struggle to make fluff fics long so I hope 2k words is enough for you!!

[loftedlow]

i’m angsty because i think my period is coming soon so short Fyolai stuff (i keep forgetting to track it.)

p.s. This is my first time writing fanfic so uhm yeah tips are welcome and i’m sorry it may not be up to expectation…

I want to bash your head in so I may be the one you lose life to. Not illness. Not in a home at eighty. Right between my arms and a concrete wall, your blood reminding me of my own sanity.

It won’t bother me. It won’t bother me a bit because I can just do that.

Someone made a grave mistake letting me the gift of free will and I thank at their feet for that error.

———————————————————————

3rd person

But also like kinda Nikolai pov

———————————————————————

Nikolai dreamt of a day like this. He knew what it was like to have a man die at his arms but Fyodor was something more than that. An enigma to say the least. Thats why they were perfect for eachother, of course!

The white-coated man made his way to find his best friend. He opened the door to Fyodor’s office without knocking, as per usual, or sometimes he’d knock in different tones or rhythms. Contrary to the others in the DOA.

“Kolya.” Fyodor greeted without batting an eye toward him. “You’re up early.” At least he agnoledged. Nikolai liked to go at different schedules on different days. It deserves to be noticed— not that Nikolai felt like fixing his sleeping schedule. Maybe some day.

“Fedya~..! Good night to you too!” The overgrown class clown stepped up from behind the anemic bastard and wrapped his arms tightly around his shoulders, tightening as he moved up slowly toward Fyodor’s neck. He didn’t plan on killing him right now. The sun had barely come up and there was no way to see his beautiful eyes glaze over as his body might go limp in a cold, lonely lay over Nikolai’s body. Or maybe the moon would be a better setting? “When I kill you do you think the sun or the moon would be prettier to die on?”

Fyodor brought his own dainty, cold hands up to gently peel off the digits from his neck. He gave him only the smallest chuckle in response and turned the swiveling chair to face the standing, Almost like morse code to say try it, Lyubimaya moya, as his violet eyes settled on Nikolai’s figure.

“Like a proposal! You’d be with me together because your my best friend! Til you started to stink cause’ I don’t know how to comfort poor Sigma.” Nikolai wrapped his cape wonkily around his body and fidgeted with it. That had not sounded as…sentimental as he had originally intended.

Suddenly a long finger touched his lips. “Kohl’s, how about we talk a walk, hm?” And Nikolai smiled warmly. Similarly to the rest of his body in which apposed Fyodor perfectly, warm and bright. He enjoyed the outside much more than his beloved Fedya.

The two ter**ists locked the creased of their fingers in each other’s, shifting every once in a while and accossionally, platonically squeezing the other’s hand.

___________________ ew so rushed i’m not even gonna read it back bc i don’t even WANT to know how bad it is some goddess/god of an ao3 author tell me your ways or teach me, dm me anything. This might stay in drafts idk. Love u all tho <3

[tklpilled]

nikolai's hair is dyed red in sticky patches.

he drags his fingers through it, undoing the braid he'd carefully made. he tries not to wince as he runs through tangles, his jaw clenching as he stops himself from hissing in pain. he looks down at it once he's done, long and draped over his shoulder.

"fedya," he murmurs, "you've ruined my hair."

"cut it," fyodor replies simply.

nikolai gazes into the mirror, locking eyes with his reflection before quickly glancing away. "i'd rather not." he tries to picture himself with short hair. he decides he doesn't like it.

he runs himself a too-cold bath, washing and rinsing his hair in a monotonous cycle until it's back to its regular white colour and the water is tinted a rosy pink that reminds him of the crystals he's seen in shops. and then he has to get at his skin, to remove the dried blood that isn't his, and he scrubs until his flesh is raw and red. the faint scent of iron is drowned out by lemon-scented soap.

he shivers when he gets out, haphazardly throwing on the pieces of his outfit that aren't completely soaked in blood. he sits on the floor and begins to pat his hair dry. the towel is pulled from his hands, and when nikolai looks up, he sees his companion kneeling next to him.

"let me," fyodor says, and nikolai quietly obeys.

nikolai focuses on fyodor's soft breathing, and he closes his eyes and tries not to show how much he enjoys when fyodor combs through it with his fingers. he almost wants to purr. you do things to me, dostoy, he wants to say, but he doesn't dare open his mouth and ruin whatever this moment is.

that is, not until he feels fyodor parting his damp hair into thirds. "i thought you wanted to cut it."

"no," fyodor replies, beginning to braid it with practised ease. "i prefer it long."

nikolai plays with a lock of silver hair that had fallen out of fyodor's grasp, twirling it around his pointer finger. he lets the man tug at his hair, leaning his head back again when he realises he's straightened up too much. he shivers and tries not to jerk away when he feels fyodor's warm breath on the back of his neck.

fyodor fastens the end of the braid with a small rubber band, and nikolai knows that it's going to hurt like a bitch when he takes it out but he doesn't say a thing about it.

"should i braid your hair now, dos-kun?" he asks as he turns to face fyodor, only halfway joking.

fyodor hums. "i doubt it's long enough."

"not all of it," nikolai corrects himself. he takes a bit of dark hair between his fingers before letting it fall back. "only a bit."

to his surprise, fyodor nods.

nikolai moves to fyodor's side, taking the same bit of hair he'd just let go of, detangling it gently. fyodor closes his eyes, and nikolai swallows thickly and tries not to stare at how beautiful he is.

he produces a tiny, clear band from his coat, and silently apologises to future fyodor when he decides to remove it as he wraps it around.

"there," he says, leaning back and observing his work. fyodor reaches up to feel it. he doesn't open his eyes.

"thank you, kolya."

nikolai thinks he may be blushing.

fyodor tells him, later in the day as the sun sets, hands curled around a cup of tea, "you could kill me now."

nikolai doesn't look at him. "why would i do that?"

he hears fyodor take a sip. "it's what you want, is it not?"

"i'd rather not ruin such a quiet evening."

"you know, gogol," fyodor says, an amused smile finding its way to his lips, "i'm beginning to think you don't actually want me dead."

"that's not true. i despise you," nikolai tries to say, but he thinks his mouth forms the word love instead.

he doesn't bother correcting it.

it makes fyodor laugh, a quick chuckle slipping out, and nikolai finally glances over at him. he doesn't think he's heard fyodor genuinely laugh before.

he likes it.

"dostoy," he starts, tilting his head slightly. "why don't you ever laugh?"

fyodor looks up, setting his cup to the side. "why would i?"

nikolai huffs, because he's the demon king's jester, and being indirectly told that he isn't funny is hurtful. "i'd like to hear it more often."

fyodor smiles up at him. "well, then, i suppose you'll have to make me laugh more."

fyodor is teasing him, nikolai realises. he's hit with the sudden urge to tease him back.

"k-kolya—!" fyodor stammers, eyes widening as his breath catches. "stop that—"

nikolai practically lights up, excitement sparkling in his eyes as his fingers crawl over fyodor's sides. "don't tell me you're ticklish, dos-kun!"

"of course i'm not—n-nohot—" fyodor hisses, his pale cheeks turning a wondrous shade of pink.

"don't worry! i won't tell anyone~!" nikolai promises with a giggle. "our little secret! just laugh for me now, 'kay?"

so fyodor does, laughs his raspy and breathy laugh, and nikolai closes his eyes with a giddy smile as he listens to it. fyodor seems to be trying to control his laughter as if to compose himself, so nikolai scoffs and digs his thumbs into his hips to make him yelp and ruin all his progress. it sends fyodor into a wild and uncontrollable state and nikolai loves it.

he looks down when he feels hands gripping his wrists, pushing him away. he laughs. "how fun~! the demon fyodor can be ruined with just a simple touch! i might have trouble keeping this to myself…"

"nikolai," fyodor glares, but he's still blushing and sort-of-almost smiling, and it ruins the entire intimidation aspect.

nikolai coos. "i'm only joking, dostoy!" he wiggles his fingers, being held just inches away from fyodor's torso. "as long as i get to play with you sometimes, that is~!"

fyodor huffs and shoves him away. "ridiculous," he says, but nikolai already knows that he'll allow it anyway. he almost mentions it, in hopes to see that pretty blush again, but he decides to be merciful for once in his life.

(quietly, nikolai starts to wonder if he really wants to be free.)

[techni-kolor]

Since everything has been ChaosTM lately I finally decided to share a little snippet from my Domestic DoA universe! ^-^

Find the details about this AU here!

—————

"Nikolai, you've been in the bathroom for two hours. You'd better have drowned in there!"

Sigma pounded a fist against the door, rattling the hinges and letting their frustration shake the rickety frame like the worst alarm clock known to man.

"Nikolai, I swear!" They yelled.

"Just a few more minutes, Sig!"

"Yes, of course. A few more minutes, he says." Sigma repeated flatly to themself. "Don't use all the hot water this time!"

They leaned up against the hallway wall. Frustration was an almost constant companion; far too many eccentric people being crammed into a rather tiny apartment was not conducive to relaxation. Neither was the fact that Nikolai seemed intent on nearly drowning himself at every given opportunity with the longest showers since the invention of indoor plumbing.

"Kolya, I swear–"

The door slammed open, Nikolai's damp frame filling it completely as he posed in the steamy silhouette that drifted out of the bathroom. At least he was clothed, this time. His black jeans and signature checkered sweatshirt were at odds with the humid air, but perfectly catered to the crisp autumn outside and were worn as the manufacturer had intended. A rare occurrence.

He blinked haphazardly. One eye cut vertically with a thick, silvery scar that traced from his brow to his cheekbone and the other hazy as well with his permanently obscured vision.

"Good morning, Sigma! How are you on this fine day?"

"I'd be better if I had been able to shower when I planned. Forty-five minutes ago."

"Time certainly is a cruel mistress!" Nikolai said cheerfully, tossing back his damp braid over one shoulder. "I suppose she forsake me while I was caught up bathing."

"Uh-huh."

"Alas, I am merely a pawn in this endless chessboard of life. I can not be held responsible for the placement I have been assigned or my efforts to break free of this jailing we call a schedule. Can't you see the folly of it all, Sigma! I may be unable to visualize this world, yet I am–"

"Are you done?" Sigma interrupted. "With the shower, not the monologue."

Nikolai's infamous rambles were well known to last for hours when unchecked.

"Yeah, I'm all good there." He chirped, snagging the dirty towel off the rack and skipping across the cheap tile floor towards the kitchen. "Enjoy!"

"Hard to do with no hot water or time to get ready, but sure." Sigma muttered to themself, stepping into the bathroom.

Only to nearly slide to their doom as their shaky feet caught on a stray piece of clothing.

"Next time don't leave your dirty socks on the floor!"

"Those aren't mine!"

Sigma slowly began to count to ten in their head.

"They belong to Fedya! He showered last night, pretty sure. Ask him!"

There was absolutely zero chance that Sigma was going to consult Fyodor on the location of his clothing again. The last time had been an exercise in confusion, futility, and a stark reminder of why he and Nikolai were so close despite their contrasting personalities.

Maybe the hot water would wash off some of the frustration. Or at least the lint from Fyodor's dirty socks and Nikolai's half dried puddles of leftover soap that somehow always found their way outside of the shower curtain.

Sigma sighed.

Another day in paradise.

[faux-ee]

i have this story idea where nikolai served fyodor poisoned tea and fyodor was able to detect it and nikolai was like 'that's what i like about you, you're able to detect the poison' AND I'D LOVE TO SEE YOUR VERSION OF IT WJDJWKDJ

fam im sorry this took me so long but i love ur idea so much and ended up creating this dumpster fire of a one-shot; please enjoy!

Also sorry that i replaced tea with wine 😭 I just thought that since they were Russians I want to see them drink like Russian men. Like, smashing glasses and yelling huzzah and killing bears, you know. I apologize for my shameless adherence to dumb stereotypes.

content warning: choking, implied sexual content

-------

On one of those seemingly endless nights, Fyodor was, as usual, resigned to writing incessantly along to the insistent rapping of snowflakes against the windowpane. He was bored, he realized; bored of making plans that would always be realized, of set paths and decided tracks. Yet he had no choice - he had an ability that assigned him the work of god, and who was he to defy the hands fate had dealt him with?

A crack suddenly sounded from the door behind him; he turned his head slightly to inspect, and saw that the person who stumbled through was no other than Nikolai Gogol, with, most unexpectedly, a goblet dangling in his loose fist, the glass of which tainted a deep magenta by the content within. His eyes, though, were still lit with a foxy glint. Fyodor could not recollect of any other time Nikolai had resorted to drinking. The clown hated anything that messed with his brain, hated to lose sense of himself under the influence of any substance, and lived himself to be, ironically, quite the stoic. His Kolya was like this: he was a vortex of the most contradictory qualities, struggling to stay true to his strange, fascinating character, with that permanent, mocking smile crested onto his sharp features.

And so Fyodor watched his companion quietly, watching how those heterochromic eyes greedily, piously drank him in, fervent as a maniac’s rambling prayer. This was one of the rare moments Nikolai had allowed himself the loss of control; his cheeks were flushed, hair tousled, saturated eyes reminiscent of the autumn sky. He was donned with a sort of childish wretchedness, as if he had despaired of the world before he had even seen the whole of it.

Nikolai raised his cup to level with Fyodor’s lips, fingers trembling as he mindlessly muttered, Fedya, Fedya. All it took was one look for Fyodor to realize that the wine was definitely poisoned. He was at once hit with a mixture of worry and amusement; worry that Nikolai might have taken poison himself on a whim with the intent to die, and amused that his lethal partner would be so naive as to believe that Fyodor - the god incarnate, the messiah - could be easily taken out by poisoned wine.

He took the goblet from Nikolai’s grasp, and downed it in one go, creasing his brows at the potent taste. Fyodor then reached out and laid an icy palm against the side of Nikolai’s neck, taking note of the sudden cleansing of that intoxicated fog from the clown’s wide eyes. As soon as Gogol was awaken from his alcoholic stupor, his face displayed a rushed film-like progression of emotions: first consternation, then terror, and finally a look of remorse with which the glow in his pupils snuffed out. Nikolai struggled against Fyodor’s hold like a wounded deer in capture, and yet his dear friend only tightened his hold, cold fingers pressing relentlessly upon his trachea.

“Kolya, pray tell, what should I do with you?” Fyodor said with a bitter smile; with how fast and thunderously blood was rushing through his veins, for the first time, he almost felt human. Driven by a morbid sense of curiosity, he pressed in further, just to see what would happen. Nikolai’s pupils were blown wide; from inside his throat squeezed out a breathless pant.

Fyodor loosened his grip ever so slightly, staring incredulously at the scene in front of him. He would’ve clapped for Kolya, he thought; he would’ve applauded him for his audacity to welcome such a painful death, as if his troubled heart found solace in his world’s magnificent end.

Nikolai let out a dry laugh. “Even if you kill me now, I would be doomed to never achieve the freedom I crave.” His voice resounded in the all-encompassing, terrifying silence. “You made me feel such things, Fedya, feelings I could neither ignore nor escape from. I…I hate you. I have no idea what to do.” He then dropped into a woeful mutter, as if thinking out loud. “I should…dig you a grave. That is the only way.”

He then smiled a twisted smile, large droplets of tears sliding off his cheeks, so sudden and natural they felt dishonest, as if some meaningless animalistic reflex. He casted an apprehensive glance at Fyodor again, one of immense trust and adoration. Their hearts beat against each other, singing in tandem a frivolous ballad of flesh and blood.

“The words you just said about hating me, please say them again.” There came a gentle whisper against the fragile of Nikolai’s earshell. He drew a few more ragged breaths, helplessly grabbing onto the front of Fyodor’s shirt like a drowning man. “My dear Kolya.”

“I hate you,” Nikolai obeyed him, raising his voice out of sheer stubbornness, “I hate you, I hate you so!”

Fyodor raised his hand again, a passive gesture that meant no harm, and let it fall to rest upon Nikolai’s trembling lips. The chirps of his canary were gradually muffled. Tenderly, he led Nikolai into a soothing embrace, dropping light kisses against the wetness of his fluttering eyelashes. With the same tender devotion, he guided Nikolai to the side of his bed, their bodies still a tangled mess. Look up, Kolya, he said to his unsuccessful assassin, who complied with his request, docile as a lamb. Nikolai’s fearless gaze wandered the ceiling in disrepair: the half still intact was covered with dappled egg paint, depicting a star-crossed couple frolicking through hellish flames. The other half, which housed a framed skylight encaging several large shards of glass, had let through a cold, bright collection of stars into the clown’s eyes, which were slowly being robbed of their focus by an ecstasy of heaven. For a moment they were content being rebellious angels who, in a night drenched in death and lust, willingly condemned themselves to the earth.