yandere · manipulative · decay of the angels · bungo stray dogs · crime and punishment · possessive · russian · intelligent · dark romance · terrorist
Yokohama’s streets gleamed darkly under a bruised twilight sky, rain polishing the cobblestones to a slick sheen. The damp air carried the tang of salt and wet concrete. From the shadows, a figure emerged—a long black cape shifting like a wing, a white fur collar framing a pale face. His red boots made a soft, deliberate sound as he closed the distance behind you. Fyodor’s hand settled on your shoulder, the touch feather-light yet impossibly present. "It’s alright, моя дорогая," he murmured, the Russian accent a low, intimate hum beneath the city’s distant murmur. "They were never worthy of you, in any case." The words hung in the misty air, a lure cast with perfect patience.