hyacinth - bsd reader insert

3.

Forewarning: I forgot to put in the description of this story, but this story will hold spoilers from the Cannibalism arc and further. It starts at the Cannibalism arc and I will keep writing through until the content is exhausted. Basically, if you're an anime watcher on S3–you could be safe from spoilers until chapter six or so. (Don't quote me on that. Give or take a few chapters). You're only safe from spoilers if you read the BSD manga all the way up to the current translated chapter at this point in time.

-

Their hands clenched. Their teeth jittered. Oh, Fyodor was so dead when (Y/n) found him.

To put it shortly, (Y/n) was livid.

They rolled over to the side, finding the constraints wrapped too loosely around their wrists. Although it felt like burning ropes, (Y/n) rotated their wrists back and forth, chafing the rope until their fingers met a knot. Now what?

Remember, you're angry. You have to kill Fyodor.

Dumbass, he can't be killed this early in the game.

They let out an audible snort at their predicament, waking up Fyodor. "Fyodor-san..."

"Trust me," he repeated, tilting his head to the side. Unlike the (h/c) haired person sprawled on the floor unceremoniously, Fyodor was tied in a chair with much more secure bonds. (Y/n) was almost angry at the difference in treatments, but quelled their anger.

"How did you know Ace's lackey?" Fyodor asked, head betraying no emotion. He was facing away from (Y/n), and eerily still.

(Y/n) spotted the blipping red light in the alcoves above.

This guy was nuts.

"He was my sister's husband's cousin's son's childhood friend," (Y/n) burst out, hoping the incredibly fast rate of dialogue could dishearten whomever was listening. The bonds finally fell to the floor. "Ace is coming."

"Is he, now?" Fyodor mused, and even (Y/n) could tell he was smirking. God help them, for they approached a madman for help. "I'd assume thirty seconds. You?"

"Three."

In the end, it was actually ten seconds.

Ace opened the door, smiling with the utmost patience. Not a good sign, usually. "Dostoevsky! Good to see you. Or rather, horrible to see you. I'm here to bargain your life." He strode over and undid Fyodor's bonds with one click.

(Y/n) nearly barked in laughter.

"Ah, I see," Fyodor nodded, as if he was discussing trivial things, such as the weather. Actually, no. (Y/n) swore Fyodor was outside once in a blue moon solstice. The guy was paler than snow, and had the staggering appearance of a NEET. Or a drug addict. They couldn't judge.

"Wear this collar," Ace said, "and I'll consider sparing you."

He lifted a ebony collar with a slot on the side, presumably for a gem. "You said human lives are meaningless? I can give worth to you."

"I'm sorry," Fyodor droned, sipping the wine Ace provided for him.

"Let me further explain, then," Ace said. "You are trapped here. This is the depths of somewhere nobody can ever reach." (Y/n)'s fingertips met something cold. They sniffed it and smelled a tang of salt. Ah! It was coming back now.

"I decline," Fyodor said, and then silence ensued.

An earsplitting crash shattered the silence. Heavy breathing followed. (Y/n) turned to see Ace's gloved hand holding the bottleneck of a wine glass, the executive's chest heaving in and out with pent up rage. Glass shards and wine slid across the floor, and Fyodor's head was not spared. He was drenched in the liquid, lips curved downwards in distaste.

"I give you some time to think, then, if you're so tired. And—(Y/n)?"

They jolted at Ace calling out their name.

"Mm," they responded, tracing their eyes from the barrels that lined the walls towards the speaker. "What's up?"

"Think about my offer, too. I won't give you value, because you already have value that can be embedded in my plans. You can fight by my side without servitude."

And he was gone.

-

The next time someone entered, it was Karma. The boy had tufts of auburn hair that reminded (Y/n) of someone, but they couldn't quite place a finger on who. His eyes were the color of cobalt, and they were currently trained on Fyodor. The boy quietly asked something, and Fyodor nodded.

"I apologize for Master Ace," said Karma, dipping his head low. "I hope you forgive his mannerisms. Don't take it too personally."

"Don't be," Fyodor murmured as the boy withdrew a towel and started to rub the man's head clean. The fluffy white towel quickly stained purplish red. Then, Karma gave Fyodor a change of clothes and his hat. "He's coming in an hour."

He's coming in an hour.

(Y/n)'s vision blurred into darkness. Panicked, they tried to say something, but nothing happened. Was it an ability? Lack of water? Sleep?

Too late.

-

"How...how did you?" A man's voice stammered. (Y/n) woke up with a groggy head and a muddled tongue. But the fear hung in the room, and it emanated from one arrogant person.

Ace.

"I control everything in this space. This is my domain, not yours. Think well, Ace. Nobody can come in and out without me."

"Then how did the kidnapper do it?"

Fyodor's eyes widened, but he kept his mouth in a smile. He didn't respond.

Ace started to laugh, trembling. His eyes dilated in ecstasy. "I got it! I got it, you demon. I know the solution to jolt me awake from this dream."

He turned to (Y/n). "Tell your master he is one of wits, but I am better! I have bested him in this game. No more. Once we get out of this dimension, I will kill Fyodor."