NIHILISM • bsd x male!reader

Act I

(bold is russian)

You fell to your knees in front of him, as he clutched your cheek. Immediately, a torrent of fear ran down you. Eyes frozen onto his.

"Do you not trust me?"
His voice rang out. Sickeningly sweet. So sickeningly sweet. So sickeningly sweet one could see the colour draining and the sick forming inside you. His eyes, pretending to care. His eyes, that held amusement as he increased your fear. You, his little worshipper.
"(Y/N), do you not trust me? After all I've given you. After I've cherished you," he pauses and patiently waits a few minutes, "brother, there's only so much time I have. Answer me. Do you not trust me?"

His 'gift' soothed you again. The gift that brought you fear, had now calmed the storm. Finally, you felt well enough to speak.

"I trust you, brother..."

The smirk plastered on his face grew, and grew. His forehead leaned against yours, and his curly brunet hair created a curtain. All you could see was him. It was the two of you, alone, as it always had been.

"Then, kill her. Kill them all. Do it for your brother's sake."

The warmth of your brother fades away as he stood back up, leaving you there, pathetic and on your knees. Your brother stood to the side, and a young girl was in front of you.

Her face twisted with fear. Like he said. Do it like he said. You did it like he said. Pressed your hand against her, just like he did with you. Her heartbeat quickened, until it stopped. It was his power running through you. Without him, you were nothing.

You looked at him. A smirk. No remorse. Nothing at all. He opened his arms, and on instinct, you ran to them. Ran to the arms of the only comfort you knew. And he allowed it, he provided you with the comfort you needed.

"Yes.. good boy. You did well, (Y/N)," his voice had a brotherly tone. It was the one he used when he was pleased with you. So much more gentle than the one before.

Slowly, your eyes closed, lulled into a deep sleep by his warmth. But the bad memories always came back, they always did. Always.

The streets of Oryol were cold. They always were. Especially in such a harsh winter. With snow everywhere, and a white fog lingering.

If your mother hadn't died, you would've been in school right now. But alas, she lay still in her coffin, and you stood still in the streets. Poor little orphan, nobody to take him in. Suddenly, a figure stopped in front of you. He smiled slightly, and extended a hand.

"I'm Ivan Turgenev, and you?"

His smile was so warm, so comforting. Even with a throat so hoarse it could no longer utter a word, you could still answer him. The raspy little voice, younger you, "I'm (Y/N)."

"No father's name, or last name? That's fine. If you don't mind, you can be (Y/N) Turgenev from now on"

He picked you up, ignoring your confused gasp. He was so much more stronger, and your kicking failed to do anything. All you could do was close your eyes and pray, as a cold sleep overtook you.

He raised you. He treated you as if you were his younger brother. But... He also forced you to kill for his cause. One, two, three, four and so many more times, your hands kept getting stained.

It was perfect, your ability. The gift to mirror people's ability, strengthened or weakened by how they feel about you. With his strong but twisted 'love', you inevitably were stronger. And that meant you were a weapon for him to use.

Finally, you woke up. Alone. You woke up alone, isolated in a small apartment. A glimmer of curiosity crawled into you, and you walked around.

Kitchen, empty. Living room, empty. Master bedroom, empty. Your bedroom, empty. The entire house was empty. Heaven had bestowed upon you a chance, a chance to escape. And so, you ran out the front door.

Only to be met with horror. This wasn't Russia. It couldn't be. But it was too late to go back, and so you walked. Until you saw a river.

'What if...?'

There was no way forward, and no way back. The river would be your end, it seemed. You whispered a small prayer, and jumped.