𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐃 / bungō stray dogs x reader anthology

𝐟𝐲𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐯𝐬𝐤𝐲 ✧ 𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

august 3rd 2020 / I hope you like it Mar! The title corny I know but I had fun with this concept and I might use it again later. / word count: 1.6k / Fyodor Dostoyevsky x Blind Reader

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Fyodor watched you carefully as you ran your hands over the braille, reading the words on the plaque with your touch rather than your sight. The two of you were visiting a moment of sorts, it was a beautiful structure yes, but that you did not know. You could not see the beauty of the architecture, nor that of the sky this evening, the sunset painting the sky violet and gold. It was such a shame, you'd never be able to lay your eyes on even your own beauty, milky silver eyes, long pale locks, truly you were beautiful, after all, Fyodor loved pretty things, and you were no exception.

But as the two of you stood in the emptying square, snow drifted down from the sky like cherry blossoms, coating the streets in a faint dust of frost. Though the sky was still surprisingly clear for such an evening. It was a beautiful sight, the snow falling softly against a backdrop of molten gold and soft violet and yet you would never once lay your eyes onto it's beauty. No, despite all your wishes, you would only ever be greeted by the simple empty nothingness that was being blind. But as you straightened up and offered out your hand to Fyodor, in the direction you remembered him being, feeling him take your hand with such care and trust you didn't care. How could you? You could feel his hand, cold yet still with it's comforting warmth within your own, and perhaps that was enough.

And in Fyodor's mind it certainly was, perhaps it was better this way, to shield you from the sins of the world, for you to live without the horror of sight granting you the ability to see such tragedy. To have yet to properly witness poverty, death, the hunger and greed of the greedy that controlled society. To live without once bearing witness to the sins of special abilities, it would all be worth it no. And yes you'd never lay eyes on him, or the beauty the world offered but that was a sacrifice worth making if it meant keeping you safe from the horrible reality that he faced.

You trusted him, for whatever reason he was admittedly perplexed about, he knew he wasn't worthy of it, he was horribly aware of that fact, and yet here you were. Here you were telling him about the braille and how cold it was to the touch, but how the history of the monument seemed fascinating and that you might look into it more later. It was funny he presumed, as he smiled at you, telling you a little of what he knew about it, your expression lighting up, your eyes sparkling with a joy that only came with the learning of some new fresh information from behind those milky vails. It was fine then, that you would never bear witness to the sins of the world.

Or so he reassured himself.

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"Fedya?" You called out to him, unsure of where he had gone, he could have such light foot steps sometimes, and as such there were times when you found yourself entirely unsure of how to approach him, or if at all, for all you knew he wasn't really there now was he?

"I'm here love," a voice called, his voice sounded like velvet, every time he spoke you could imagine running your hands over the soft cloth, a rough yet soft feeling, smooth yet textured in a way you weren't entirely sure how to describe. You were positive he was beautiful, you could tell by the softness of his skin, the tone of his voice, the feel of his stare against you and simply the way he treated you.

He treated you not as though you were incapable, as though you were human, he listened to you when you spoke, and though his work took up significant time he still spent what little he had left with you! It was lovely of him to do so when he had no obligation, to be able to spend those few days, or even some weeks hours in your company. Eating a meal prepared beforehand, him reading aloud to you some complex story or from a book of philosophy, he would sometimes play his cello and you the piano, for though you were blind you had a way with the keys that was unlike any he had ever heard before.

"Have you seen my walking stick? I think it fell and I'm not sure where it is..." you trialed off, while you had of course memorized the layout of the large house long ago, there were still times in which you were hesitant to move forward by yourself, without the guidance of another, or without the aid of the walking stick.

Glancing around Fyodor spotted where it had fallen, crossing the room he bent down picking it up and making his way towards you, handing you the plastic aid, "it fell near the bookshelf," he simply said, "I have some work to do but when I finish I'll be able to spend time with you properly this week." Fyodor sighed, pressing a kiss against your forehead as you leaned against him, cherishing in the warmth of another human being.

"Take you time you know, you don't need to rush yourself, I can wait." You smiled, gripping the aid in both hands as you looked kindly in the direction of his voice.

Oh his sweet angel! Truly what had he ever done to deserve such a perfect being, truly you must be his reward for working as god's right hand, you would stay by his side, and while he kept certain secrets from you it's not as though he didn't trust you. It was simply the fact that at the end of the day, he had no wish to expose you to the horrors and sins of humanity, you didn't deserve that - you were kind and sweet; you tasted like vanilla and honey; your hair felt like silk beneath his fingers; your mind was sharp and keen, a true gift, and he truly loved you!

Or at least as much as a demon could.

✧ ｡ﾟ✐.*ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* ✎｡:*ﾟ

You stood alone in the bedroom, hand pressed up against the window, the cold glass sent shivers up your spine and erected goose bumps along your arm, your fingers delighting in the chill it ignited in you. Your eyes were trained on the sky beyond, wondering what it looked like, trying to imagine through the nothingness what it might look like. Because in truth, it wasn't that you saw darkness, it was that you saw nothing. The idea of darkness frightened you a bit, to have it described to you stirred a dormant terror in the pit of your stomach, one you had thought had been stamped out as a child.

It was the simple truth that the idea that there were things lying unseen just beyond your reach scared you a bit, more than it should have. Your hearing, intuition, your sense of touch, all those were good and all but they could only do so much for you. How you longed to see the world! And most importantly you wanted to see Fyodor! You wanted to know what the colour of his eyes were, for you were sure it was beautiful, you wanted to know what he looked like, how the curves of his face and the feel of his hair what they looked like, for it was hard to imagine in truth.

And besides, was it not natural to wonder, to wonder what you yourself looked like, to wonder what the curved of your body might appear to others, to wonder if your hair would look as you imagined, or your eyes, or what colours really were for it was impossible to truly tell without first witnessing their - or at least what you thought must have been their - grandeur. You wondered because of course you did, how could you not?

Hearing the door of the bed room close you called out to him, "Fedya?" you waited for his response with baited breath, anticipation clawing at you, the irrational fear and worry that it wasn't really him, that deep seated fear that lay beneath all your security and out wards expression, waiting to claw above to break the surface and tear you to shreds. Waiting it's time to force tears down your cheeks, waiting for it's time to make you feel true terror and fear as someone who was not Fyodor, not the man you trusted above all else to pretend to take his place.

"Yes love?" But no, it was him.

"I, never mind, it's nothing," you smiled, reassuring him of that truth as you looked upon him with a particular expression hidden in those silver-veiled eyes that was hard to read. And he smiled back though you could not see it, assuring you it was fine, before offering his hand to you, which after a moment of fumbling in mid air you found, the caress of his skin against yours, that smooth feel you found comfort in.

And you smiled to yourself as he brought you close into a swift hug, he told you he would be going on a business trip of sorts soon, to Japan, but that he'd return in good health soon. And you had wished him luck and success, kissing his lips, feeling their warmth against your own, a soft blush adoring your features. And he smiled right back, promising he would. And you were none the wiser, no inclination that there was more than Fyodor told you as he brought you into his arms again, leading you to the bed as you giggled, his touch along your skin tickling you softly as he smiled, the innocent wonder of it all.

And you were none the wiser, you had no true inclination of the truth, you had to idea of what was really going to happen. Absolutely none and honestly? Both of you wouldn't have had it any other way.