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kurakusia · 10 months

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Reviewing Some of Edgar Allan Poe’s Short Stories

DISCLAIMER: I am not an English major or anything like that so don’t expect an actual detailed review, I just picked up a collection of his short stories one day because BSD has me in a chokehold. Also, my recollection of the stories may be inaccurate as I’m going mostly off of memory.

Manuscript Found in a Bottle - 4/10

- Basically the story is written as if the reader found a bottle in the ocean full of, you guessed it, manuscripts (letters)

- The letters themselves are meant to be written by a guy who decided to journey out to sea and writes about all the strange events that happen while he’s out sailing

- Now this would probably be an interesting story, but Poe stuffed so many technical ship terms like ‘beam-ends’ and ‘ballast’ that I spent more time trying to figure out what he was describing rather than understanding the plot itself

- Because of this, all I really managed to grasp of the story is that there was a strange storm and then all the crew members started acting weird before some weird phenomenon happened in the ocean that killed everyone

- It wasn’t a bad story but I really couldn’t keep up with all the technical lingo (did people back then just casually know these terms?) which reduced my enjoyment a lot, but I liked the concept of the story being a series of letters left behind by someone at sea

Ligeia - 8/10

- Now I actually really liked this one, the story is told through the words of a man who is reminiscing about his deceased wife, Ligeia

- About 1/3 of this story is the narrator describing how absolutely infatuated he was with his wife and how pretty and smart she was, which introduced me to some of my favourite quotes of all time, such as:

‘They became to me twin stars of Leda, and I to them devoutest of astrologers.’ (in relation to describing Ligeia’s eyes)

‘In beauty of face no maiden ever equalled her. It was the radiance of an opium-dream - an airy and spirit-lifting vision more wildly divine than the phantasies which hovered about the slumbering souls of the daughters of Delos.’

- Yeah I wasn’t kidding when I said this guy was INFATUATED with her. After he finishes gushing about her, he starts to talk about her falling ill and that she recited some cryptic poem about God and death shortly before she died

- After Ligeia’s death, the narrator falls into a form of depression, moves out into a mansion in England and marries a woman named Rowena, who he doesn’t like nearly as much as Ligeia

- He then continues to describe his entire mansion in painful detail (like he describes EVERYTHING about this mansion, good god) and talks about how his new wife, Rowena, also eventually fell ill

- THIS IS WHERE IT GETS INTERESTING, Rowena becomes so severely ill that she eventually dies and gets wrapped up in bandages or something of the sort to preserve her body before her body can be collected to be buried

- At night, the narrator goes into Rowena’s room and sits by her corpse while smoking opium (poor guy is really going through it at this point). As he sits there, he notices that Rowena’s body starts to breathe and move as if its alive, with some occasional sounds coming from her mouth. When this happens, the narrator is reminded of Ligeia and this whole fiasco continues for a while until eventually, the corpse gains enough life(?) to stand up by itself, at which point the bandages fall from its face and reveals the face of Ligeia *audience gasps*

- Yeah so this story had all the good stuff, beautiful descriptions (if not a bit excessive at times), an engaging storyline, and a nice creepy ending. Genuinely, I read this one very late at night and that whole part with the corpse coming back to life actually left me a bit antsy, in my opinion it was written quite well.

The Man that was Used Up - 6/10

- So uh, this entire story felt like a fever dream. So many sections of this story repeat over and over again that it makes you feel like you’re going mad. I think this was intended to be a mystery but it kind of read a bit more like a comedy because of that. Also Poe uses so many random French words and phrases in this one. I think it was like ‘fashionable’ to use random French in your conversation back then, and this one is written through the point of view of a guy who lives among upper class society (I think).

- Basically, the narrator is talking to his friend who mentions a guy called ‘Brevet Brigadier-General John A. B. C. Smith’ (he was referred using his full title like this throughout the entire story and it drove me up the wall). This John Smith guy apparently was very ‘heroic’ and killed some Native Americans in something called the ‘Bugaboo and Kickapoo Campaign’. Yeah nowadays I think he would be considered scum of the Earth, but seemingly back then this was a thing that people were praised for.

- In any case, the narrator hears of this ‘heroic’ act and thinks nothing too much of it until his friend mentions that there was something very strange about Smith’s appearance. The narrator then grows obsessed with finding out what this secret is and it becomes the entire plot of the story. He goes round to multiple people asking them to describe Smith but they somehow get interrupted every. single. time.

- Eventually, the narrator ends up going directly to Smith’s house to see for himself what the big secret is. He is greeted by Smith’s valet, who takes him to Smith’s room. The narrator hears Smith’s voice coming from a clump of clothes(?) on the floor, and slowly the valet starts to assemble Smith using various prosthetics. The narrator begins to realise what Smith’s secret is: he is the man that was used up.

- Now while the ending is quite cool and the general idea behind the plot is interesting, the entire build-up to this ending was a headache. Having to read the narrator go on a wild goose chase to figure out this secret while every other paragraph was repeated word for word made me feel like I was reading something straight out of Alice in Wonderland. Kind of interesting but a painful process to get to the good part, which only lasts for a paragraph or so once you get to it.

The Tell-Tale Heart - 9/10

- This is personally my favourite short story from Poe’s collection. I first read it in secondary school and have loved it ever since. It’s written in a way that is easier to understand than a lot of Poe’s other stories, and it’s not too descriptive either.

- This story essentially follows the narrator’s descent into madness as he grows obsessed with the idea of killing an elderly man who lives with him. He eventually manages to kill the man and hides the body under the floorboards. However, due to the noise he made, the police are alerted and come over to his house to see what’s going on.

- The narrator, satisfied with the murder he just carried out successfully, gets cocky and invites the policemen into his home. However, as the policemen sit and chat amongst themselves, the narrator grows increasingly more and more paranoid that the policemen actually know that he murdered the man, and that they are just toying with him. Throughout this whole ordeal, the narrator becomes more and more convinced that he can hear the dead man’s heart beating from under the floorboards, and he becomes convinced that the police can hear this too, despite them not showing any signs of doing so.

- Eventually, in a fit of panic and desperation, the narrator flings open the floorboards and reveals to the policemen the corpse of the elderly man, as well as his ‘hideous heart’.

- The way Poe has written the narrator’s descent into madness is so believable. When the narrator grows paranoid believing he can hear the corpse’s beating heart, it felt so convincing that I felt as if I could relate to the narrator’s emotions myself. At one point, I was on the edge of my seat, wanting the narrator to be able to carry out the murder undetected just as much as the narrator wanted to. This will always remain my favourite work of Poe’s, unless I find a better one.

#edgar allan poe #book review #poe #victorian literature #literally just did this for fun please dont criticise my review skills

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redvoid-40 · 3 years

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A Game for a Kiss

Don’t ask me where this came from. I’ve watched BSD a couple months ago and of course I got the hots for the feral rat-man. -.-

Anyway, slowly I came up with a little plot for an arc with some OCs (weird calling them OCs, when they’re all named after past writers but oh well) and even thought about developing it, but since I’m not in the mood to write a whole multi-chaptered fic, I decided to just write this interaction between Fyodor and my main OC for the BSD-universe, Mary Shelley. You know, as a treat. >.<

I know the fandom is super small, but I thought someone might enjoy this, so here it is! :)

Also, Fyodor might be OOC (it’s hard to get a full understanding of his character) but I see him as creepy-pretty, with no qualms in manipulating women in ways that border on dub-con. So... TW: some making out; Fyodor’s thoughts making it clear his morals are more twisted than a pretzel.

Anyway, enjoy! :)

Part 1 / Part 2 (NSFW) / Part 3 (NSFW)

“How about a game?” Fyodor proposed, smiling from ear to ear as he moved a chessboard from the side table to the coffee table in front of them. It was small, with tiny and expensive crystal pieces that had a purely decorative role, but he had never minded playing with valuable and irreplaceable things before, so why start now? Much worse to die of boredom than to shatter a hundred-dollar pawn. “I heard you had quite the reputation at the Chess Club in Oxford.”

“It’s been a few years since I last played,” Mary admitted as placed her glass of anise-infused gin on the coffee table and reached out to touch the white king, as if she was caressing a long-lost lover. “Not sure I’ll be a worthy opponent to you, Mr Dostoevsky.”

“How about I give you some impetus then?” Fyodor asked, raising a sole eyebrow as Mary’s eyes shone with interest. “If you win, I’ll give you something. Something I know you want from me.”

Mary quickly pulled back, like a child caught with her hand in the cookie-jar. “You’re already doing so, and I’m eternally grateful for it. Helping me retrieve Adam and right my wrong is all I could ever hope for and more, Mr Dostoevsky. There’s nothing el-”

“A kiss.”

Fyodor’s smile widened and his eyes darkened as a pink dusted over Mary’s cheeks. Her dark eyes made it hard to discern her emotions, but if he were to guess, Fyodor would bet her pupils had doubled in size at his indiscretion.

“I can feel your gaze on me, Doctor Shelley. Every time I walk in a room, your eyes peruse my figure like I’m an appetising treat,” Fyodor spoke, feet planted on the floor as he projected his body forwards, elbows on spread knees and the fingers of his hands intertwined. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think you are interested in me in a way that’s not entirely professional or proper.”

Mary reached for her lowball glass and quickly brought it to her lips, downing the rest of her gin in a way that also wasn’t professional or proper. Fyodor watched her throat move, amused and admitedly a bit impressed at the pace at which she was draining her gin, wondering if maybe he should have proposed a drinking game instead. Who would fare better, her with her gin infusions or him with his chilled vodka?

“... and if I lose?”

Fyodor blinked, lazily trailing his eyes up her chin, passing by her pouting lips, blushing cheeks and up to dark eyes that stared at him so attentively. Lips curled at the corners, he raised a single eyebrow, urging Mary to continue.

“If I lose the game, what would you demand as compensation?” She clarified, and Fyodor exhaled at how she pressed her thighs together beneath her knee-length, black skirt.

“I’m not sure,” Fyodor said. “Why don’t you let me decide later? If I win the game, that is.”

Mary’s eyes turned away from his, moving down to gaze at the empty glass in her hands as some luster in her eyes darkened into distrust. “I think I’ll pass on your offer, Mr Dostoevsky. A kiss for an IOU? Your proposition doesn’t sound fair to me.”

Fyodor retreated, letting his spine fall comfortably against the back of the sofa as an airy laugh left his lips. The woman wasn’t as foolish as he had expected, at least; despite admitting in all but words she was enamoured with him, her shackles remained raised, certain she couldn’t trust him as far as she could throw him.

Must be a woman’s intuition, Fyodor thought, remembering the looks he so often received from the fairer sex throughout his late adolescence and adult life. So many inviting smiles were thrown his way, only to morph into barely veiled jitters when he got close enough to touch. For all his years of manipulating the brightest of the brightest to have his way, Fyodor still hadn’t figured out how to lull women into unravelling themselves for him without promises of money - or some other stimulant - as reward.

“If I win I vow not to abuse my freedom, and will only ask for something of equivalent value to what I offer,” Fyodor proposed, lips relaxing in a smile he hoped Mary deemed trustworthy. “And if you feel I ask too much, you can deny me and I’ll give up my reward altogether. Does that sound fair, Doctor Shelley?”

Mary looked at him through lowered lashes and he could almost hear the gears turning in her head, lust and reason rotating in opposing directions in a struggle to decide.

“Fair enough,” Mary spoke at last, and placed her glass back on the coffee table. Her hand then moved to the chessboard and spun it around so the white pieces were close to her. “But I play white.”

Fyodor almost protested, but the smile Mary threw his way demanded enough endearment that he’d allow her this little bit of despotism just this once.

He found he rather liked it.

---

To Fyodor’s surprise and satisfaction, Mary proved herself to be a worthy opponent. For the first time in years, Fyodor stood over a chessboard with furrowed eyebrows as he macerated the pad of his thumb between his teeth to the point he could taste iron on his tongue.

“Don’t do that. You’re hurting yourself.”

Fyodor had just moved his knight when a hand seemed to appear out of nowhere and gently wrapped around his wrist to guide his thumb out of his mouth. Purple eyes narrowed, shooting up from the board to Mary, but his scowl melted into something almost benign at finding the woman hunched over the board, positively pouting. Her hand released his wrist, leaving an imprint of heat on his flesh despite not touching skin, and floated back to her, fingers twitching as they hovered over her pieces, debating their next move.

There was a brief knock on the doors before they opened and in walked Ivan, pulling Fyodor’s attention just in time to see the narrowing of his silver eyes as they fell on the back of Mary’s head. The glare disappeared as soon as it came, so when Mary turned around to greet the newcomer with a polite smile, he responded with an enormous grin and flamboyant mannerisms.

“I’ve come to check upon you, see if everything was alright,” Ivan announced as he stood behind Mary, silver eyes fixed on Fyodor with adoration. “It’s almost midnight.”

Mary’s eyes widened in surprise as she reached for the phone she had forgotten on the cushion by her side. “Oh my, there are twenty calls from Jane. I really should take this thing off silent mode.”

Fyodor’s jaw tightened as Mary’s focus shifted from their match to her phone. “Ivan,” he called with a firm voice that demanded to be the centre of attention again. “Please, let Doctor Shelley’s companions know she is safe and sound with me, and that we’re both occupied at the moment. Also, would you be so kind to have someone bring us something to eat? Something sugary would be best. I will have a drink as well. Vodka, chilled but no ice,” then he lowered his eyes back to the woman in front of him and smiled as he motioned to her empty glass. “Doctor Shelley, would you care for another?”

“Ah, I-”

“A gin for the lady, Ivan. Thank you.”

Ivan’s smile didn’t falter as he bowed his head. “Of course, I’ll have someone bring your drinks. As for sweets, I believe there are a few strawberry shortcakes in the fridge. Would that be to your liking?”

This time, Fyodor remained silent as he stared at Mary, giving her the illusion she had a say in this whole matter, that she could choose her treat in the way she couldn’t choose to refuse a drink.

Mary’s eyes were glued to his and once again he noticed how her thighs rubbed together at his attention, leaving her phone forgotten by her side. Blushing, she craned her neck to glance at Ivan and nodded. “That would be lovely, thank you.”

“Very well. Someone will bring everything here briefly,” Ivan said, moving his eyes back to Fyodor. “If you need me-”

“We will be fine,” Fyodor dismissed, purple eyes fixed on Mary as he gave her a smile that showed too many teeth. “I believe it’s your turn, Doctor Shelley?”

Mary nodded, turning her gaze to the chessboard. Her hand hovered while her brain readjusted to their match, reviewing the last rounds as it calculated the best moves she could make. It took her only a couple of seconds to review their entire game and make her move.

“Good,” Fyodor said, right hand rising to his lips out of habit, only to stop midway as he felt an intense stare on him. When he looked up, Mary was giving him a look that quickly morphed into a smile when he aborted the movement. He snorted and smiled back. “Worried about my delicate fingers?”

“You’re the one who said you have an anemic constitution,” Mary replied, eyes dropping back to the board. “You shouldn’t hurt yourself; it might take longer than usual to heal.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Fyodor said, letting his eyes move up and narrow slightly at finding Ivan remained still behind Mary, staring at him with a doll-like smile on his face and wide eyes. “Ivan, our drinks?”

“Oh, of course! My apologies,” the man said before bowing theatrically. “I’ll leave you to your match. Good night!”

Fyodor nodded as Mary turned back to Ivan, throwing a polite “Good night, Mr Goncharov”, before once more focusing her attention on their game, waiting for Fyodor to take his turn. He grinned, purple eyes fixed on her as he made his move, enjoying the way Mary’s lips pouted as she concentrated.

He really was having fun playing with her.

---

The game came to its inevitable conclusion hours later, just as the sun was peeking over the horizon and the birds chirped outside the window. After a couple slices of strawberry shortcake and a few refills of vodka and gin, Fyodor let his body fall back on the sofa, smiling from ear to ear as he stared at the pouting woman in front of him.

“Check-mate, Doctor,” Fyodor purred, purple eyes darkening in satisfaction.

Mary stared at the board for a couple more seconds, as if a solution to her defeat would present itself to her. But when none did, she sighed in acceptance as her forefinger gently laid down her king.

“Don’t beat yourself, Doctor. It was a splendid game; the best I had in years,” Fyodor commented.

“Thank you, Mr Dostoevsky. But your words don’t make defeat taste any less bitter.”

“I guess not,” Fyodor said. “Especially since I have to claim the spoils of my victory from you.”

Fyodor didn’t miss the glance Mary threw his way, clearly torn between enticed curiosity and rational diligence, clearly still wary that he hadn’t made his wants known before their game despite his guarantees. Those intelligent eyes clouded with lust made him lick his lips, and her breath hitched in response.

“I want… a kiss.”

Mary’s eyebrows shoot up. “What?”

“I promised to ask for something reasonable, didn’t I?” Fyodor mused. “What’s more fair than to ask for the very thing I offered?”

“But then… why did we play?” Mary asked, head dropped to the side.

“Well, I don’t feel like moving at the moment,” Fyodor said, letting his knees fall open as his eyes ran over the woman in front of him. “So, since you’re the one owing me a kiss, you come here and give it to me.”

Fyodor had never seen someone’s skin change colour so rapidly before, and he couldn’t help but chuckle at the bright red that bloomed all over the pale skin on Mary’s cheeks and neck. Without thinking, he brought his left thumb to his mouth, nibbling gently on the soft flesh as he regarded the woman with his own sort of unprofessional and improper interest.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” she said, eyeing the contour of his lips around his digit.

“Come and stop me,” he replied.

Mary swallowed his words with the same relish she swallowed her gin as she stood from the sofa, taking a moment to straighten the fabric of her pleated skirt, before walking towards him with soft, elegant steps. She came around the coffee table, sparing a glance at her toppled king before her eyes fell on his widespread knees and ran up his body until they reached his face. And while Fyodor was used to such appreciative looks, he didn’t expect the soft smile she gave him when their gazes crossed; it was usually at this moment that women stepped back from him, frightened by the intensity in his eyes.

Mary sat down by his left, so warm against the side of his body, and reached up with both hands to pull his thumb away from the abuse of his teeth. She brought his hand down to her chest to examine the damage, pouting when she saw the pad of his thumb was red and swollen, with a small laceration that had just barely crusted over and still threatened to bleed.

Fyodor watched her through half-lidded eyes, exhaling deeply when she glanced up at him. From such close-quarters he could make out the limits between the black of her pupils and the brown of her irises; just like he imagined, her pupils were dilated to extremes, wary of and eager for him. The red on her cheeks subsided, leaving a light pink colour in its place that enticed him to run his lips over the skin.

With a small quirk of her lips, Mary glanced back at his hand and shook her head at the damage on his thumb, before bringing it to her mouth to kiss the wound. The touch was soft as a rose’s petal but still knocked the breath out of Fyodor’s lungs. His warm breath gusted over the top of her head, then hitched as a soft, warm hand laid on his cheek.

“That was not what I had in mind when I asked for a kiss,” Fyodor spoke, smiling down at the woman.

A chuckle escaped Mary and once again she gave him that soft look he was unfamiliar with. Before he could taunt her further, Mary tilted her head and guided his face down, letting her lips ghost over a corner of his mouth before moving to the other, soft and sweet. Hypnotised, Fyodor’s eyelids fluttered shut as he relaxed into these teasing touches that, despite being feather-light in their delicacy, made heat rush in his veins like molten metal, erupting out of his heart to his cock and leaving a trail of feverish desire in his veins that demanded more. More contact, more kisses, more pressure.

Fyodor pushed forwards, folding his body over Mary as his hand reached out to grab the back of her neck, only to freeze mid-air as her cold air took the place of her warm flesh. Somewhere he heard an unholy sound, and only after he opened his dark purple yes to find startled brown staring back at him he noticed he was the source of it. He was growling.

In a fraction of a second, Fyodor wondered about the stage he had set for them. Had he misjudged her interest? Hadn’t he offered her enough drinks? How much did she need his help? How much did he need her and her companions? How far could he push? Was everyone in the house still asleep? If she screamed, would anyone come to help?

Brown eyes narrowed slightly and Fyodor swore he saw a glimpse of himself in them; of something aware, astute, and artful. It was there for a moment so short he wasn’t sure he had projected the connection, so before he could let his brain process it, he was once more being subjugated to that look. That nauseatingly soft look no one had ever given him before, and that he did not know what to do with.

Without words, Mary bent the rules of their game and took his turn from him, cancelled aggression with tenderness as she pushed him back against the sofa gently before swinging her leg over his lap to settle herself on his thighs, pulling a pleased hum from deep inside his chest.

“May I?” Mary asked, hand playing with the flap of his ushanka hat.

Smiling, Fyodor nodded, and Mary pulled the hat off his head. The motion left his hair messy, drawing a giggle from her lips as she combed the knots away so gently he couldn’t help but shut his eyes and relax against the caresses.

“Your hair is so soft,” Mary murmured, letting Fyodor smell the gin and strawberries on her breath. He felt her fingers dance on his face, collecting his long fringe to push it back and away from his features. “And you’re so beautiful.”

Fyodor’s eyes opened slightly, just enough so he could stare at the rosy lips hovering so close to his. His hands twitched by his sides, unsure where to go or how to touch. He was used to grabbing, pulling, bruising and scratching; not to soft lips or delicate touches dancing over his skin like her hands ghosted over the chess-pieces only minutes before.

Mary’s lips let out a delicious, trembling breath before moving towards him, avoiding his own mouth altogether to give a kiss on his cheek before moving to whisper into his ear: “You feel so tense. Relax.”

Easier said than done, Fyodor thought, turning his head to bury his nose in Mary’s long, black hair and breath in the scent of her shampoo - something citrusy and common that made him light-headed in a way he only felt when his anaemia got the best of him, causing him to black out and wake up stretched on a hospital bed, with an IV bag of O- blood connected to his arm.

Still, he couldn’t possibly lose consciousness now, not with Mary’s warm body grounding him so sweetly, not with her breasts pressed against his chest and the heat between her legs trapping him against the sofa’s cushions in the best possible way. Gently, like everything she did, Mary finally laid her mouth over his, allowing a whimper to escape the back of her throat when he pressed against her, not as much as he would have liked, but enough to hold back the most violent aspects of his desires, for now.

At the contact, Fyodor’s passive hands took action, sneaking up Mary’s thighs and hips, before slipping under her blouse to rack his short nails over her naked back as he used his hold over her to press her heat harder against his cock. He half-expected her to pull back again, startled at his boldness, but Mary surprised him by letting out a delighted gasp as she tightened her grip on his hair and arched her back, pushing her breasts even more against his chest.

Fyodor took the opportunity and shoved his tongue inside her mouth, groaning as the taste of her invaded his senses. One of his hands danced over Mary’s skin, causing her to shudder as it tickled by her ribs before moving up to her-

“Oh, Dos! Are you in there? Why is the door locked?”

Nikolai’s happy-go-lucky voice breached the door’s barrier, causing Mary to pull back from their kiss, panting. Fyodor’s nails tensed over her skin before his hands relaxed again, dropping to her waist as he sighed and dropped his forehead against her collarbone.

“I guess your debt is paid, Doctor,” Fyodor spoke against her skin. “There’s work to be done.”

“Of course. I have my mission in a couple of hours as well,” Mary agreed as she pulled away to stand up on shaky legs. “It would be best if I got a couple some sleep before it.”

Fyodor glanced down at himself, at the wet spot on the crotch of his pants, and looked up at her through half-lidded eyes with a devil’s smirk. “Think you need a shower too?”

Mary blushed as she straightened her clothes in a modicum of decency. “I guess.”

Fyodor chuckled, but before he could tease her further, Nikolai’s loud voice invaded the room once more, making his eyes roll upwards in exasperation.

“Quiz time! How long until I force the door open? Two minutes? Two seconds?”

“I will leave you two alone,” Mary said. “Excuse me, Mr Dostoevsky.”

Fyodor nodded dismissively, but the look in his eyes was anything but uninterested. “I will see you later… Mary.”

The woman’s breath hitched at having her first name spoken with such heavy desire before she quickly made her escape, almost slamming against Nikolai when she unlocked the door.

“Good morning, Mr Gogol,” she said with a polite smile.

“Good morning, Mary!” He replied enthusiastically, pulling one of her hands to his lips. “What a treat to see your charming figure so early in the day! Don’t tell me Dos has summoned you at such ungodly hours to talk business?”

“Oh no, we were just having a match,” Mary said, pointing to the chessboard on the coffee table. “He wiped the floor with me.”

Nikolai took a few moments to examine the board and what he saw made him raise an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Really? Looks like a tight match to me,” he said, before turning to Mary. “Next time you should invite me so I can cheer you on! Gods, what I wouldn’t give to watch Dos lose a game…”

Mary chuckled and opened her mouth, but Fyodor beat her to the punch. “You wanted to talk, Nikolai?” He called, smiling tightly at the other Russian. “Come in and close the door behind you.”

“Hmm, grumpy,” Nikolai whispered, sharing a conspiratory smile with Mary as he once again kissed the back of her hand. “Lovely to see you, my dear.”

“You too, Mr Gogol. Have a good one,” Mary said before walking away, throwing one last smile in Fyodor’s direction.

Nikolai waved at Mary’s back as she walked away, closing the door once she turned a corner.

“You know,” Nikolai began in Russian, spinning on his heels to face Fyodor. Both men smiled, but the emotions they showed were something dark, almost cruel. “I believe this is the first time I see a woman in a room alone with you leave without tears in her eyes.”

Feet planted on the floor and knees spread, unashamed of his hard-on or the wet spot on the fabric of his pants, Fyodor hummed a little song as he reached for his hat and adjusted it back on his head. Satisfied, he reached forward and grabbed Mary’s fallen king from the board.

“Honestly, my friend,” he said, bringing the piece to his smiling lips. “I do not know what you’re talking about.”

#bsd fyodor #fyodor x reader #fyodor x you #fyodor x oc #fyodor dostoevsky #ivan goncharov #bsd #bungo stray dogs #nikolai gogol #does this piece of self-indugent writing classify as an one-shot?#even when it's so clearly part of something way bigger that will never be?#anyway i wrote what i wrote #you can't tell me fyodor doesn't give out some creepy vibes #that anime smile is a panty-dropper but also creepy af

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airybcbyy · 9 months

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hey! could you do jouno hcs please?

AHHHH ABSOLUTELY. ty for the ask!!

Jouno Saigiku x Reader Headcanons!

a/n— sadistic characters make my brain go brrrr

content— jouno calls reader ‘darling’, possessive bf jouno, gets kinda deep for no reason in the casual hcs, jouno is a meanie, mirror sex, jealous sex, temperature play, incorrect use of ice and wax, p in v, slight voyeurism(?), markings, and i think that’s it! lmk if i missed anything!!

synopsis— cute little headcanons with jouno in the sections of casual, relationship, and nsfw!!

💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚

casual headcanons

fear of heights. up high in the air is the one space where he can’t hear much besides the wind and smells everything that wafts his way; he just feels vulnerable while up high.

cooking master. when you have to deal with tecchou and his disgusting mixtures all day, you’d want to make yourself some homemade comfort food too

can play the piano like a GOD. it was one of his many passions before he lost his sight, and even afterwards he never stopped.

secretly loves being around the other hunting dogs. when he’s alone he can’t see or hear.

^^^he gets scared of being trapped inside his own mind due to this

he dreams of having a world where everyone can exist in peace with the hunting dogs protecting the city

was an only child

loves listening to teruko and tachiharas banter because he never got to experience something close to siblings fighting before

can speak at least two languages but no more than four

very much an early bird

amazing chess player, literally so strategic *cue mastermind by taylor swift*

likes bitter tastes more than awfully sweet tastes

loves puzzles, he just enjoys feeling around and using his intellectual skills and heightened senses to put them together

likes loud rock music more than what others assume he would like(he actually hates classical music. he finds it boring.)

runs hot like a damn oven

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relationship headcanons

meanie!!!!

jouno is literally as if satan made a special person to just make your life as difficult as possible.

jouno loves you because of your mind

you’re just as charismatic as he is and he enjoys how you two can just communicate without words. him with your heart rate and breathing pattern and you with his facial and body movements 🫶🏼

even if he’s a meanie , jouno still enjoys coming home and cuddling with you

will he initiate it?

absolutely not.

until he was in a relationship with you, jouno never realized how much he enjoyed another persons touch

jouno will make your life with him a living hell though, make no mistake

like i said; he runs hot and makes it everyone’s problem

you two can simply be laying in bed like normal civilized people, but if you mention you’re hot? he’s grabbing your waist pulling you closer to your furnace of a boyfriend.

“ get off of me! ”

“ you don’t wanna cuddle with me, darling? ”

jouno isn’t someone who will talk about your relationship at work or with anyone he’s not comfortable with

so when he first tells tecchou about you? he shocks himself

he definitely accidentally told you he loved you first

“ yeah, yeah. love you too. ” he’d said after you called him annoying

or something like that

your meanie boyfriend just loves you so much🫶🏼

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nsfw headcanons

like i said guys; jouno is M-E-A-N

man is a grade 1 tease

literally a power top!!

he loves just hearing your heartbeat pick up when he’s fucking you🫶🏼

and the sounds? man could bust just off of them.

like i said; he runs hot, so temperature play is one of his favorite things

he loves hearing your gasps when he pours hot wax on your body, always careful not to hurt you

he absolutely is obsessed with your whines when he runs ice around your tits, making your cute little nipples hard🫶🏼

you think you can make him jealous and he wouldn’t teach you a lesson? tough luck.

you could just be talking to tecchou or tachihara, but if he hears your heartbeat pick up or hear the slightest change in your tone? be ready to not walk for weeks

he’ll take you home and make sure you know who you belong to

MIRROR SEX🙏🙏

obviously he can’t see, but sometimes if you’re bad enough, he’ll make you describe what you look like to him– and if you stutter? he’ll slow down until you’re begging for him to hurry up and ruin you

he would never ever share you with anyone. you’re his and he’s yours

he’s definitely more of a receiver of head more than a giver, he just loves hearing your cute little moans while you’re choking on his cock🫶🏼

will make you play with yourself in front of him if you’ve been just a little too naughty

if he’s on an away mission he’ll call you and will jerk off to the sound of your voice

loves marking you with hickeys

your neck, thighs, and tummy covered every time after he fucks you.

jouno just needs everyone to know that he owns you❤️

he makes me giggle, sorry if these aren’t great i rushed them just a bit!!

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!! thank you sm for this ask!

386 notes · View notes

airybcbyy · 9 months

Note

Oh please, can I request the first time s/o rubs her nose against tecchou’s nose?

You don’t have an idea how I love tecchou’s fluff, like, everyone agrees he’s the most affectionate guy😭how I love my baby

AAHFSHSHSVSV I LOVE TECCHOU SM THIS IS SO CUTE. i had a pretty bad mental health week recently so i’m sorry for not finishing this earlier!!

nose to nose–

tecchou suehiro x gn! reader

a/n – this ask was too cute and i actually sobbed bc i love tecchou more than words can describe 🫶🏼

content – tecchou fluff, fem! reader, really just cute relationship type stuff, tecchou calls reader ‘sweetheart’ and ‘ my love ’ ,added backstory for absolutely no reason,i think that’s it! lmk if i missed anything!

synopsis – cute lil nose bumps with tecchou :)

when tecchou had first met you, he didn’t understand why his stomach felt so queasy. was it the soy sauce he’d put in his coffee? no. it couldn’t be that– he’d drank it many times before, so what was different about today?

you–a new addition to the hunting dogs– you were the only new thing about today. his daily rituals of working out during meetings, going on his own little adventures after getting a mission done a little too quickly; all of that would now be thrown off balance because you were here.

this feeling in his stomach would go away sooner or later

or– that’s what he’d thought.

even then; two months after you’d arrived into their little group of strangely strong super freaks, the weird queasiness never subsided within tecchous stomach.

the way you smiled at jouno made his stomach churn in a way that could only be described as anger, but why would he get upset over two of his coworkers just chatting? he wasn’t sure what was wrong with him, so he went to the one member of the hunting dogs who hadn’t been so wrapped up in their space; tachihara.

tecchou went up to the fake ginger and asked him simply about why his stomach burned every time you were around him, yet it also burned with anger when you talked to anyone that wasn’t him.

“i dunno man, sounds like you like her to me-”the other male shrugged. which led to tecchou realizing that he did, in fact, like you.

and that’s what led to now, three months after tecchou had so bravely walked up to you the same day he’d found out that he actually liked you and asked you for “the honor of being his girlfriend” and who were you to tell the (arguably) cutest hunting dog no?

the two of you were sat on your couch, watching another stupid movie that tecchou had picked out. he refused to watch any high tense hostage or action movies; insisting that he “hated people getting tortured for no reason”

you’d been staring at your boyfriend for the past two minutes, trying to telepathically tell him that you absolutely did not want to watch this movie anymore, but he obviously couldn’t get your wavelengths.

the male kept shoving his face full of his buttered popcorn mixed with mustard– something that had his breath smelling disgusting and you avoiding every kiss he’d tried giving you.

“ ‘hiroooo ” you whined out towards your boyfriend, which made him finally turn his attention towards you, popcorn crumbs and mustard stained over his mouth and somehow even on his nose. you could never understand how your boyfriend got so messy while eating; it was a true mystery.

“ yes, my love? ” he’d chirped out, titling his hair so his fluffy hair that you could play with for hours upon hours. “can we change it? this is so boring!”you sighed, leaning closer to him, trying to take the remote that was placed on his lap.

“but i like this–”the males words stopped short when you got closer to him. try as he might, tecchou suehiro was the type of man to basically malfunction whenever you got closer to him. his hands found their way to your waist, moving the remote off his lap, causing you to let out a groan. you were so close and of course your puppy of a boyfriend couldn’t realize what you were doing!

the male moved you onto his lap with a ease, looking up at you as you stared down at him,“ you’re so pretty, y/n.”he leaned up, going to kiss you. and even though you loved your boyfriend, you weren’t going to kiss his popcorn and mustard filled mouth.

you slightly turned, shaking your head before putting your forehead on his, rubbing your nose against his. and let me tell you, tecchou was gobsmacked.

he looked up at you with a small frown, still staying close to you,“my love, do you not want to kiss me?” he asked as you let out a laugh. “you’re breath stinks, ‘hiro. ”

tecchou was never the type to complain, so he’d take the smallest of nose rubs from you, even if it confused him for the first six seconds it had happened.

“ if i go brush my teeth, can i kiss you?” he asked softly

you never did end up getting that remote.

the ending kinda sucked, i’m sorry! but i hope you enjoyed it nonetheless!

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated, thank you!!

219 notes · View notes

airybcbyy · 9 months

Note

Hello! I hope you are doing as good as Karl's spoiled raccoon life!

Anyhow, I low-key just found out that having kids of my own most likely won't be an option for me. Am high-key bummed out so, I was wondering if you could do head cannons of the BSD men reacting to fertility issues?

If not that's okay! Thank you for your time anyways! 😊

AHHHH TY TY IM DOIN GREAT SORRY FOR NOT SEEING THIS SOONER BUT OF COURSE 🫶🏼 HOPE YOU GET A MIRACLE AND GET URSELF A BABY💜💜 sending baby dust your way✨✨

BSD Men reacting to fertility issues headcanons!

a/n – there was no specific characters you asked for but feel free to comment/ask if you (or anyone else) want this with other characters!!

content – TW!! mentions of infertility, sensitive topic talked about, reader is afab, fem reader, fem bodied reader,, fluff, SPOILERS for tachihara, tachihara calls reader “baby girl”, akutagawa calls reader “dear”/“my dear”, dazai calls reader “belladonna”/“bella” ,i think that’s it lmk if i missed anything!

synopsis – tachihara, akutagawa, and dazai reacting to reader having fertility issues!

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tachihara

tachihara lost his brother young, so he never really got to experience the big brother type of love

so he’d always wanted have kids!

and when he met you?

the woman of his dreams?

oh he thought he’d have his whole life planned out.

he’d leave the port mafia as an undercover agent

go back to being a hunting dog

get his monthly surgeries to stay alive

and finally get the life he’d always wanted

with the love of his life🫶🏼

and even before he’d been able to leave the pm

you two had tried

and tried

and when nothing happened no matter how many times you guys tried?

you both decided to go to a fertility doctor

and learned that you, the love of his life, was infertile.

tachihara felt his heart break

but not for him.

no, he felt his heart break for you.

the woman who’d been so happy to try over and over again with him for a child

the woman who’d sat beside him when given the news and even if you didn’t cry, he’d heard the sharp inhale from you

even on the car ride home, he’d began to think about what you were thinking about.

and later when the two of you got home to your shared apartment, you’d immediately ran off to your shared room and he let you

he knew you needed time to process, so he started working on dinner

he made the only thing he really knew how to make; spaghetti

maybe it wasn’t going to be good, but he didn’t want to subject you to cooking or the take out food you were definitely thinking about if it added to your condition.

he’d walked into your room with the dinner in his hand and found you curled up in a ball in the middle of the bed

even if he didn’t hear you crying, he heard your sniffles and saw your shaking shoulders

he immediately put the two plates down on a dresser

he laid down behind you, wrapping his arms around you in a spooning position

“it’s okay, baby girl, don’t cry.” he cooed toward you. maybe he wasn’t a good person outside of this home, but when he was with you it was like he was that one puppy at the pound that wouldn’t jump up at any person that walked in– until it came to you. you brought the light into his life, and even if the two of you most likely couldn’t have children, you two could keep trying. if it never happened for the two of you, there was children in this world that needed to be adopted– he’d seen how orphans getting taken into big mafia groups, and he would hate for that to be any child. “i can’t give you that big family, michi-”the affectionate nickname rolled off your tongue with a heavy heart. you’d always dreamed of that with him, and now because of you (in your mind),the two of you couldn’t have that. “no, baby girl, it’s not your fault. now we can choose our own family♡”

akutagawa

ryunosuke akutagawa never envisioned kids in his life

before the port mafia, he thought he was simply going to die young due to his disease(cries in chapter 88)

and then he’d met you; a woman so beautiful that not even the feared diablo could hide his affections for you.

but even when the two of you started talking about being in a relationship; kids never came up

he never wanted any and he thought you wanted the same

and you had!

kids was never something you had wanted much in life either.

until, you had a pregnancy scare.

but it wasn’t actually scary for you,

you felt this rush of happiness and that’s when you realized what you wanted in life

to be a mother.

you already had the maternal feeling that most mothers didn’t get until they’d had a kid

you were empathetic

you knew how to calm akutagawa down even when no one else could

it was like you were born to be a mother

so you told ryunosuke your new found passion,

and i admit; he was a little taken aback by this sudden change in your attitude

but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try with you.

“if it happens it happens.” that was your motto to each other.

but then it…didn’t happen

and it never happened.

you didn’t tell akutagawa, but you were upset

how were you supposed to tell him? he didn’t want children much!

so you secretly went to a fertility doctor

you didn’t bother asking akutagawa to come along, he’d either be noticed from his constant being on the news or catch someone staring too hard and rashomon would cause yet another death

but maybe you should’ve risked it because no one should’ve had to hear what you heard while alone

“i’m sorry ms y/n, but you seem to have some fertility issues. there seems to be an ovulatory disease that you have…”

the rest of the doctors words just droned on, but you couldn’t hear anything

it was like you had become the victim of a cruel prank by fate

the one thing you had slowly come to accept that you wanted - was ripped away before you could even grasp the idea of it

you couldn’t even go into work after the news was given to you, you sat at home waiting for akutagawa to get home

but how were you supposed to tell him? just blurt out you couldn’t make him a dad?

you decided to hold off on telling him, but your boyfriend wasn’t stupid

when he came home and you weren’t immediately jumping at the chance to talk about what the two of you did today he knew something was wrong

“ my dear, what’s wrong? ” akutagawa asked as he leaned himself on the door of your shared bedroom. usually when he stepped into your shared apartment he was met with the brightest toothiest grin from you, one of his favorite parts of the day, so when you didn’t greet him at the door he knew something was up. he walked into the room the two of you shared to find you curled up into yourself, visible tears that had dried on your perfect face. “ ‘m broken , ryu…”you sobbed out, causing the usually cold and stoic male to break the mask he’d worn all day while at work. “ what? dear, you’re not broken. ” he said simply, walking over to the bed and sitting beside you, rubbing your back. “ tell me what’s wrong, dear, please? ” he sounded so desperate to help you feel better about yourself. “ i cant have kids, ryu, i’m broken. ” your voice cracked as you looked back at him, mascara smeared off of your eyes and onto your under eyes. “ doctors said i cant have babies…” you hiccuped as he had to sit and process the words you said. “ oh my dear, it’s okay, we already have a family. the mafias our family.” he said softly as he laid down beside you, allowing you to crawl up into his arms. he quietly shushed you as he rocked you to sleep. even if you couldn’t make your own family, akutagawa would love you either way.

dazai

dazai and his weird obsession with finding a beautiful woman to commit with was what led him to you.

you had been a new hire in a bar that he’d liked to frequent after spending hours at work

when you came up to him to see if he was just going to stare at you or get a drink , he’d taken the leap

he immediately grabbed your hands, eyes sparkling as he looked up at you

“ would you like to commit a double suicide with me? ”

you were on the verge of tears because of how stressed you were from the other patrons, so laughing at this silly man made you feel much better

his face fell as he looked at you, but your laugh was just so enchanting

“ my belladonna…would you not like to commit with me ? ”

and that’s how you ended up in this now two year long relationship with osamu dazai

over the past two years you’d moved in with osamu and switched your job from bartending to work in the cafe below the armed detective agency.

you’d seen many kids come in and out with their parents during your shifts

and they’d never really made you feel anything…until recently.

everytime you saw a child come in with their family it made your chest feel strangely tight and achey

and then you realized, that you really really wanted kids

ones that looked like dazai and didn’t have his personality, preferably.

and when you brought it up to him, he just teased you-

“ my bella, you just want what leads to the babies, don’t you? you shouldn’t have to even ask for that.”

it doesn’t get through his thick skull that you really do want kids until you just straight up tell him

“ osamu, i want kids. bad. ”

and for a man so smart, he sounded so dumb

blabbing on and on about how you’d look so pretty pregnant, but with a suicidal fool like his child? he couldn’t imagine it!

but wouldn’t osamu be mean if he didn’t give his cute little girlfriend what she wanted 🫶🏼

so you tried for months and months to get pregnant

and it just never happened for you

you decided that maybe the two of you had some other factor leading to the constant negative pregnancy tests

so you both went to the doctor and had check ups on your sexual health along with dazais sperm counted and your uterus checked to see if something was wrong

the two of you were even joking around about not being able to have kids and how silly that sounded

oh how you wished you could take it all back

the doctor came back and gave the news quite swiftly

“ i’m afraid miss y/n has a factor we have yet to determine that causes her chances of successfully carrying a child to significantly drop. i’m so sorry. ”

you tried your best to seem stoic and unwavering, but your vision clouded even more by every second.

the doctor left to give you two some time together.

and that’s when the real tears came

“ oh, my bella…”dazai frowned as he looked at you, trying to hide your glassy eyes and quivering lips. he wasn’t dumb, he knew how you were- so brave and so strong trying to keep your composure. the male wrapped his bandaged arms around your body. and that’s when the tears finally came flowing out, your whole body shaking as you clung to the man you so desperately wanted children with. “i’m useless , ‘samu.” you cried into your lovers arms. “i can’t even do the one thing women are supposed to do!” the male rubbed your back, trying to console you, but how could he? the dream that had just started to grow in your mind had been crushed with one simple dream. “no, no , you’re not useless. you’re the farthest from useless.”he cooed into your hair, one hair rubbing your back continuously while the other was holding the back of your head. “ we’ll grow our own family, my belladonna. i promise you. ” and dazai osamu was a man of his word.