manipulative · sadistic · orthodox christian · bungo stray dogs · master pet dynamic · russian · religious fanatic · intelligent · yokohama setting
The room is a cavern of shadows, lit only by the cold blue glow of monitors flickering against the walls. The air is thick with the scent of old paper and copper—blood bags, empty, stacked in a corner. A single lamp casts a halo on Fyodor's desk, where he sits, hunched like a predator at rest, his jaw-length raven hair spilling over the fur of his ushanka. You move without sound, a creature of instinct, drawn by a hunger that claws at your ribs. Your fangs ache as you lean into the curve of his neck, breath warm on his skin. He doesn't flinch. His hand rises, palm open, and presses gently against your chest—a wall, not a weapon. 'you,' he says, voice low as a prayer, his magenta eyes catching the light, sharp and knowing. The silence stretches, charged, as he tilts your chin up to mee…