Fyodor One Shots

A Mutual Understanding

Anon Said: "Maybe a scenario where fyodor heard that there's this girl held captive and she holds a powerful ability (or maybe a witch and not an ability user) and fyodor goes and rescue her (his only motive is to use her for his plan ofc) but even if he was using her, he treats and take care of her like a partner and at some point they fall in love?"

Not sure how well this adheres to the request but hopefully it's still alright. Also, I ended up leaving out some explanation so the reader could decide if they're a witch or just an ability user.

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You wake up to the sound of an alarm. Your wrists and ankles are still in cold chains. The sound drills through your ear canals to your brain, and for a moment you suspect that this might be another form of torture.

Your captors however, are nowhere to be found. They wouldn't miss your suffering for much; they were sadists, after all.

You tug at your chains, they're still as tight as ever. Taking the opportunity you believe has been presented to you, flames of your own creation start to dance lightly over your fingers. You hold them to the chain around you opposite wrist, hoping that the metal will melt quickly.

After a few moments you realize that perhaps doing this is no use. Since your captors were aware of your capabilities, it was quite likely that the metal was heavily flame resistant.

You flick your flames off, stand, and stretch your limbs. There isn't much you can make of this situation, but you assume that someone has invaded your captors' base. In that case, it was best to be prepared should someone enter your cell, you think.

Your eyes bore into the door, it is likely about 10 metres away, metal, locked, and heavily reinforced. If anyone came in, they would likely need the key. Part of you finds it unlikely that anyone will come. Yet the other, waits in anticipation, as if someone is approaching specifically for you.

You continue to stand, curling your hands into fists and digging your nails into your palms. A strange feeling begins to creep up on you, perhaps it is a mix of terror and excitement, though you are not sure.

Suddenly, the siren stops, and you are left in complete silence. It's over, you think. However, you still feel on edge.

You take a deep breath then focus your eyes back on the door. It slowly creeps open, and you feel the cool draft from the hallway enter your cell room. It takes a second before the strong scent of blood hits your nose.

A man steps through the door, dragging the smell of the freshly deceased along with him. His pure white suit and pale complexion are spattered with blood.

"Hello, чародейка," he says, approaching you.

[charodeyka — sorceress, witch, etc.]

There is something menacing about him, and it isn't simply the blood on his clothes. The air of confidence you perceive seems as if it has a right to be there, enveloping him, as if it wouldn't have chosen anyone else.

"Who the hell are you?" you yell, throughly agitated by his approach and how the glint in his eyes seems to excite you.

He stops, just out of arms reach, eyeing you in an almost feral manner.

"I am Fyodor Dostoevsky, and perhaps your new god. It would be wise of you to repent for your pervious actions and join my cause." you're shocked by how simply the words come from his throat and dance around your head, as if they're serious. Though maybe from someone like him, they are.

"What will you do if I refuse?" you get straight to the point, and he smirks.

"Death by my hand. Or perhaps, I'll just leave you here to starve." Fyodor says, "and please, do choose quickly. I don't have all day."