Latest Posts by v4mpash3 - Page 3

crush

waiter! waiter! more ruffles please!!

Holy shit!

too sweet?

sunday tragedy!!!

struggled with the background for this so much

long time no nikolai..

Fyolai is ready for Christmas! 🎄

They make me sick

🎭 FACES 🎭 ✦ NIKOLAI GOGOL

He is so silly and stupid i love him

Merry Crisis everyone!

Here's a fyolai doodle

Reposting some of my old drawings [ last part ]

Monitoring

First post….Someone hold my hand😔….

TRASH SUGAR MAGIC

➛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 11: ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴜʀ ʙᴀʙʏ

➛ nikolai gogol x fem!reader

➛ fluff, slow burn, mild smut, dubcon, explicit content, slice of wink wink | words: 10.1k

➛ ao3 | spotify (note: dinner @ brasserie zédel is recommended) | main menu

“I feel cold…”

Nikolai sighs as soon as you say that once he gets back inside the car after filling up the gas. “I told you not to just wear a cardigan.” He replies before he starts the engine again. You pout, hugging your body as your fingertips caress the soft fabric of your white cardigan. 

“Yeah… But it looks sunny and I thought it wouldn’t be as cold.” You say. Nikolai only glances at you, giving you a frown. 

“In what world do you think the weather will stay warmer for a degree during a snowy winter?” He only watches you increase the temperature of the heater as he starts driving again, leaving the petrol station. You are clearly restless because it does not get any much warmer, considering that his car is barely decent in condition. In an attempt to preserve your heat, you try to pull the sleeves of your cardigan to at least cover your hands. 

“Hold on, darling. We’re almost there. Jeez, can’t even handle a bit of cold, huh?” Nikolai says, his tone is slightly mocking. You only pout and shake your head. 

“Maybe your car is too old to get the heater functioning.”

“Hey, don’t say that.” Now Nikolai is the one who pouts. You once again reach out to fiddle with the buttons in the car but you retract when Nikolai slaps your hand away, lightly. “Stop.” He says and you huff, leaning back with your arms crossed. 

It takes about several minutes until both of you arrive at Olga’s diner. The parking lot is empty and the sign is still showing that it is ‘CLOSED’. It is not even noon yet, so you figure that you two are here for important business rather than a lunch date—not that it is still impossible. 

“Come on.” Nikolai leaves the car and you follow after. You wheeze as soon as the harsh cold breeze hits your face. Hugging yourself tightly to keep warm, you jog your way to Nikolai, bumping into his body. His hands immediately reach to hold your shoulders. “Goodness…” He sighs. 

“I’m so cold!” You whine as you push yourself closer to his body and his arms instinctively wrap around you. 

“Well, it’s not my fault that you didn’t take my advice earlier!” He grumbles before he deliberately takes off his winter jacket and hovers it over your body. “Arms.” He commands and you obediently put your arms into the sleeves. It is heavy and big on you—disproportionate but warm. 

“What about you?” You ask, eyeing the beige sweater he is wearing. It does not look like it can provide better heat for this weather but Nikolai does not even seem to be affected by it—or at least he pretends so as his nose twitches a couple times. 

“I’m fine,” He says. “Let’s go.” He walks off first and you follow after. Before Nikolai could stuff his hands into his jeans’ pockets, you quickly grab one of them, wrapping your fingers around it. Nikolai only glances, but he does not pull away—instead, he holds your hand back, just as tight as how you are holding his. 

It feels warmer. 

When you two step in, Olga is already waiting at the bar, with Vasily by her side. She waves at you and you beam happily, waving back at her. You give a greeting nod at Vasily but the boy only smiles at you awkwardly as a response. He disappears into the kitchen without a word. 

“How are you, my dear?” Olga suddenly asks. “Are you well? Have you eaten?”

“I’m good. I have eaten but I don’t mind some more snacks.” You grin cheekily. Olga chuckles before nudging her chin towards the kitchen. 

“Help yourself, then.”

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“Kolya and I are having a private talk, as he told me in the text. But you can go into the kitchen and get some snacks from the staff pantry. Just give us a moment for two, is that okay?” Olga says. Your head turns to Nikolai who is already looking at you. He does not say anything other than pouting his lips towards the kitchen, shooing you away. 

“Mm… okay.” Slightly defeated that you are being left out, you reluctantly let go of his hand. You get to the kitchen and peek at the bar through the small window, watching both Olga and Nikolai talking in a slow, whispering voice. Nikolai then goes to sit at a table before Olga approaches him with two drinks for both of them. 

You pull your gaze away, knowing that whatever they are talking about, it does not involve you or it is not even a matter that you have to be concerned with. You can try to ask Nikolai later but for now, you will enjoy your time alone. 

Or perhaps not. 

Because when your eyes meet Vasily who is silently preparing ingredients, you are perked with curiosity and interest. You have never spoken with him, only exchanging friendly nods and smiles. But you have the strongest desire to do what you are best at—bothering people. So, you approach him and Vasily seems to be noticing you as well because he is fidgeting on his spot but makes no move to avoid you. 

“Vasily… is it?” You say, adorably smiling at him. He looks at you and nods. You offer a hand, introducing yourself to him. He hastily wipes his hands on the napkin hanging in his apron’s pocket and shakes your hand.

“I heard that you’re a student at a university nearby.” You strike up a conversation. Vasily still looks apprehensive but he swallows his timidity, trying to respond to you with the same enthusiasm, or at least a chunk of it—as he feels quite uncomfortable with your sudden chatter, like a songbird. 

“Yes, I am…” He replies. “And you don’t… really look much older than me. Are you a student yourself, maybe?” He attempts a question and as if your bunny ears are perked up in the excitement of getting someone asking about you, you quickly answer him. 

“I finished high school several years ago. Couldn’t afford university, so I work.” You say. 

“At a bar, right?” His words leave his mouth like a bullet as if his thought does not even register the sensitivity of his question. You are surprised at the sudden fact about yourself being thrown at you like that but you have to remember—your face and name are already broadcasted in the news as a missing person. 

“Y-Yes, I work— well, worked, at a bar. I was an escort.” You say, your voice tender as you notice Vasily’s guilt is creeping in. His conscience is probably hitting a little too hard and you do not want him to get uncomfortable around you—although your friendliness might already give you the wrong headstart. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” He mumbles. “Olga’s always dealing with shady people and I just saw your face in the news and… and… I-I’m sorry, I think I should shut up.” He bites his lower lip, holding himself back from saying more insensitive nonsense. 

“I don’t mind.” You say. Vasily’s eyes are frantic as they try to divert elsewhere but you. 

“Uhm…” He glances at you. “So… you’re really a missing person?”

You nod. “It appears so.”

“Are you in trouble? Right now?” Vasily asks. His tone is low and careful. Your eyes widen a little in surprise but before you can reply to him, he nudges his chin towards the window. You look at it and you can only see Nikolai from this angle. “The man you’re with. Isn’t he with you? Do you need help?” He hardens the tone in his whisper, emphasising the seriousness of his attempt to help. His eyes occasionally glare at Nikolai, as if the man could hear your conversation. 

“N-No, not at all. He’s with me, yes, but I… don’t need help…” You reply quickly. Vasily flashes you a suspicious look as if he does not buy into your excuse—well, to his defence, for a girl who looks his age hanging around with a man in his 30s is not really a pleasant sight, especially when you are definitely a missing person. A kidnapped person. A victim of a crime.

“Are you sure?” Vasily asks again, holding your wrist. “I can really help you. Nobody in this town dares to mess with Olga because she has protection from a lot of shady and dangerous people, as this diner is the perfect nest to make deals.” He says. “If that man coaxes you to say no—”

You pull your wrist off his grip. “No, Vasily. He doesn’t… I mean, yes, he kidnapped me but… But I do not want to leave him. I want to stay. With him.” You say, firmly. Vasily stares at your face for a moment before palming his face, muttering something in a dialect you do not understand. He then nods to himself. 

“Sorry. I misunderstood. It’s— uh, one of those kink things, right?”

“What?”

“Roleplay.”

“Oh… No, no. Not at all.”

You can only watch the confusion in Vasily’s face brew deeper. 

— ♡

“Well, isn’t this a confusing situation…” Olga murmurs behind her palm after she listens to the whole story that Nikolai just told her—from his drunk and desperate aspiration to your father’s death. He feels slightly nervous at the stern glare Olga gives to him as she ponders over the question he just struck her. 

“Could you take care of her?”

“Well, Olga?” Nikolai asks again. “What do you say?”

“I don’t really understand what you mean by ‘taking care of her’,” Olga replies. “If work is what she wants, then yes, I can grant it. But there is more to this, isn’t there, Kolya? Be clear with me. Be honest.” She taps the table in front of Nikolai, urging. Nikolai purses his lips and grumbles. 

“I want you to shelter her. Give her a place to sleep and stay. Let her work as your staff or something. Anything. Your house surely can fit one more girl, right?” He says. Olga hums and nods before she silently sips her warm black coffee. 

“Why don’t you?”

“What?”

“Why don’t you do that for her? I know you adore her, Kolya. Ever since you first brought her here.” Olga smiles, almost like a tease but Nikolai feels extremely humiliated by that remark. Was he that obvious? Were his feelings too upfront than he thought? Were his emotions engraved too deeply into his soul? 

“Well, Kolya?”

Nikolai clenches his fists, sucking the air through his teeth. “I can’t. I just can’t. It’s not like I haven’t thought about it. I thought about that every day. I think about her every fucking day. I just can’t let her stay with me. It’s dangerous. It’s more dangerous in Peters and I don’t want any loose ends. No loose ends… especially not in front of Fedya…” His words are like bullets, blurting out of his mouth without a pause—though the last bits are nothing but whispers of comfort for himself. 

“But you must understand that it is no less dangerous if she stays with me,” Olga replies solemnly before she finishes her black coffee. 

“It will be fine.” Nikolai leans forward, his tone hardens. “I don’t care what you plan to do with her. If you don’t want her to work here for the sake of your safety, that’s fine too. I just want you to give her a place to stay.” Sensing that Olga is already frowning again, Nikolai quickly adds, “It’s not like I will disappear tomorrow right there and then. I am still here for the next few weeks, so you can still think about it. And— And I’ll help her move in with you. Seriously, it will be one simple task. I really— I just— I—”

He finds himself stumbling upon his words, and he groans slowly. His gaze lowers to the table. He shuts himself up before he goes to say the wrong thing again.

Olga only stares at Nikolai, God only knows what she is thinking and although he tries his hardest to not return the gaze by watching you roaming around the diner with the staff boy, he does feel restless. Jittery even, for numerous other reasons. 

“Alright, Kolya.” Nikolai turns his head towards Olga when he feels her rough hand—that is carved with half a decade of life—touch his. He feels her tenderness and pity on him. Though the comfort is nothing better compared to when you are the one holding him, Olga’s smile tells him what he wants—which is more important at this time. 

He nods. He nods again. “Thank you… I owe you one.”

His eyes divert again towards you, who are now playing with a jukebox. The boy is talking to you, with a friendly smile on his face. He seems to be around your age. The smile he gives you is returned full—with the same kind from you. Upon seeing the sunshine you gift to the boy, warmth creeps up into Nikolai’s heart. 

Not the nice kind of warmth. 

It is something else. Warm, warm—nothing cosy but scorching. That warmth soon broils to an uncomfortable heat that makes him frown deeper at the sight of you giggling at whatever that boy just said. 

What’s funny? 

“That… is Vasily.” Olga suddenly says and Nikolai once again turns his head fast towards her. He tries to relax the frown on his forehead but he certainly could feel the grimacing pout formed on his face. 

“Can’t he pick another name?” He grumbles before he takes his cup of coffee. Ignoring the heat, he swallows the hot coffee, further fuelling his own warmth. 

Olga chuckles. “What about his name? It’s just any other usual name a lot of people in this country have.” She says. “Ah, you cheeky guy. Don’t worry. He is just being nice. And I think it's her that makes friends with him. She’s pretty good at that, you know?”

Nikolai hums half-heartedly. “I know. Whatever, I don’t care anyway. Just don’t have that kid get too close to where he doesn’t belong.” He says. Olga grins, tilting her head as her eyes pan towards you and Vasily and then Nikolai. 

“Oh, why? I think they look great with each other. As friends, of course. Besides, Vasily is a university student. He is around her age, so she is definitely going to enjoy being with him. As friends, of course.” Olga teases again, amused by Nikolai’s little quirks he does when he is visibly annoyed—scrunching nose, twitching eye, rolling eyes, sulking pout. 

“Well, you don’t have to worry about him. He has his eyes on someone else already.” Olga clasps Nikolai’s hand, offering him some reassurances. But Nikolai’s focus is still on you, who is watching Vasily closely as the boy manoeuvres the old jukebox. 

He then abruptly stands up from the chair and his hand trails away from Olga’s. Nikolai makes his way to you and stands between you and Vasily—who yelps slightly upon being shoved by Nikolai’s taller body. 

You gaze up at him. 

“Are you done, Kolya?” You ask sweetly, giving him the same type of small smile you gave Vasily. Nikolai does not know what possesses his mind when his hands reach up to your face, and both of his index fingers lift the corner of your lips. 

“Hm?” You giggle, holding his wrists. The smile grows brighter—turning to one that Nikolai is familiar with, something he wants to steal and keep inside his coat forever. 

“Why, is there something wrong?” You ask. 

No, nothing is wrong. Nothing is ever wrong. 

“Nothing,” Nikolai says. 

“Are you done talking with Olga? Do you wanna go for a lunch date? I’m pretty hungry.” Your lips twinkle, bringing a tint of smirk to Nikolai’s face as well. He drops his hands to his side, eyeing your figure. You are still dressed in his jacket—not that he wants to ask it back. Rather, he thinks you look cute in it. 

And the thought of you smothered with his scent is sending tingles somewhere down there. The thought is eroded away as quick as it flashes in—Nikolai does not want to lose control of himself, not even a little. He has lost himself a lot already. 

“No… No lunch date— No dates…” He mumbles. “I have to leave the town for a while. There is an errand I have to do and you’ll stay here with Olga and… him. I’ll come fetch you when I’m done.” He says, his voice is veiling regret. 

“Oh…” You nod, understanding. “Okay, it’s fine. I don’t mind waiting here. Besides, I made a friend already!” You hold his arm and turn him towards Vasily who is standing awkwardly by the jukebox. Vasily is trying his best to not look at Nikolai in the eyes—as if the older man is emitting a strange ambience that, unfortunately, you do not comprehend. 

For Vasily, he is a menace. 

For you, he is a solace. 

Perhaps the strange ambience has driven Vasily to a point of dread as his words are staggering to form coherence. “M-My name i-is Vasily, sir. I-I work h-here…”

Nikolai ignores the boy before he turns his attention to you, not even sparing a smile. But his gaze softens when he lays his eyes on your innocent face—either you completely miss the awkwardness you created or are totally enamoured by your kidnapper, who knows. 

“I must go now. And take this,” He gives you a few crumpled cash notes. “Get yourself something for lunch. I’ll see you later.” He says before he deliberately leaves the diner in haste—he must have gotten an important job from Viktor. 

“Ah, he forgot his jacket.” You grip the jacket you are wearing as you can only watch Nikolai’s car leaving the area from the window. You feel slightly guilty that you did not remind Nikolai to take the jacket. 

“Jesus, that man is so terrifying…” You hear Vasily whisper. You turn to him with a playful pout, as if you are offended that he thinks of Nikolai in that way. 

“He’s not bad. Well, he was rough the first time I met him but he is very, very nice!” You say and Vasily’s eyes widen as his face contorts into genuine bewilderment and concern. 

“Are you… genuinely okay?”

— ♡

“Damn it.” Nikolai grips the steering wheel hard as his foot presses the gas pedal. His car moves faster as they travel the highway. The clock is already past twelve o’clock and the night is getting darker. He did not mean to stay out of town for long—but there were mishaps. 

He went to a certain bank to finish a couple more documents now that he has a new identity. It took about three hours for him to be done since the bank was filled with people. Then he had to leave the town to finish a job tasked by Viktor for extra cash. When he was finally done, he had to deal with horrible traffic. A supposed one-hour journey multiplied and he was already out of curses to spout when Olga texted him that the diner was closing. 

Twelve twenty-five—Nikolai finally arrives at the familiar suburban place he barely considers home. He makes a turn to reach the street where Olga’s diner is located and as he approaches his destination, he realises that the entire premise is totally dark. 

His heart drops.

Olga would not just leave you in the dark like that, right? 

He parks his car abruptly by the side of the road. He rushes to the diner, looking through the window. He sees no sign of people. The entire restaurant lacks lights and life. He rattles the door to the restaurant, only to find it locked.

“Shit.” Nikolai bites his lip as he frantically looks around, calling for your name. There is no way you have disappeared. Olga is a nice lady. You would not betray her motherly kindness, would you? 

Hearing no response, Nikolai’s frustration grows. His feet cannot stop pacing around the premise and his eyes are straining as they refuse to blink, in fear that he might lose sight of you—his little bird. He does not want to think the worst—because you have promised him. You promised to stay. 

Or perhaps you’ve fallen into the same trap again. 

Nikolai shakes his head, raking his hair at the unwanted thought intruding into his mind. But as more seconds pass, he fears that his heart is agreeing with his head, blaming and mocking him for falling and accepting his feelings, repeating the same mistake he had made years ago—Now look where it got you. It got you the same way with him. 

He stomps through the snowy pavement, thinking that he could get in from the back door. He could not use his ability—for his jacket now belongs to you and only a sweater is covering him from the intensifying cold wind. 

He calls for your name again, this time louder—angrier.

“Kolya?”

Nikolai turns quickly to the back door of the restaurant upon hearing the melodic rhyme of his name. His eyes fixate on the sight of you peeking through the gap between the door. His lips part open, and he is about to gore your heart with malicious words—but the fire begins to ebb when you walk out from the building and waddle to him with his jacket still hugging you. 

“You’re late. The diner is closed already and Olga and Vasily went home first.” You say. “How long have you been out here? I thought of waiting for you at the front but Vasily said it was dangerous and told me to stay inside. He gave me the spare key to the back door.” Nikolai blinks profusely before he throws his head back and sighs loudly. 

“You okay?” Your hands reach up to touch his face, caressing his skin. Nikolai tilts his head towards you, breathing heavily as your thumb rubs his cheek, so tenderly, so softly. He nods. 

“Yeah, sorry. I was… uh, distracted.”

“Long day?”

He nods again, subtly leaning his lips against your palm. They pucker, planting just the slightest tint of a kiss on your skin. Nikolai then feels your hands leave his face, replaced by each of your index fingers arcing the corner of his lips upwards. 

He chuckles—the panic he felt has dissipated and relief courses in. “What’s this?” He asks. 

“I like it when you smile. You look handsome.” You say with an adorable smile—the kind of smile that only a dewy girl would have.

“I look handsome, little dove?”

“Okay, I will rectify. Ahem. You are handsome.”

Nikolai snickers, pride beneath his beam. “Well, isn’t that the most correct thing you have ever said…” He then gently takes your wrists, pulling your hands away from his face. “Come on. I’m cold and it’s already past midnight.”

Nikolai pulls you by your wrist and walks off. However, as his focus is on his car, he feels your hand shake itself off his grip. Before he could even take a look behind, he feels your hand holding his properly, and he gladly wraps his fingers around yours as well. 

You two get into the car and as soon as he starts the engine, he hears something grumbling lowly beside him. He jerks his head towards you, noticing that you are looking at him like a pathetic wet cat as your hand is on your stomach. 

“Seriously? Did Olga starve you?”

“There were a lot of customers during dinner time and we were rushing. I kinda forgot to eat dinner…” You say shyly before suddenly you gasp happily. “Vasily told me something about a supper date. Like, like… eating at a 24-hour convenience store. How about we go to supper?”

Nikolai hums. “Good idea. But unfortunately, I’m pretty tired. We have food at home.”

“Aww, please?” You shake his arm. “You are not going to let my tummy grumble all night, right? Please~?” You clasp your hands together, pleading to him. Nikolai stares at your face—relishing in the way your eyes reflect the orange street lights outside. 

“Okay, okay. Whatever you want.” Nikolai shoves your face away lightly, receiving a giggle. He starts driving with a destination in mind. Before you come into his life, he often finds himself at a bar to have supper, but he very rarely ever visits a convenience store. He does not even think there is ever a 24-hour store. The latest those stores stay open is only up to three in the morning. 

He finds a store. It is empty but it is still open. There are a few empty tables outside, presumably for customers. Both of you leave the car after he parks near the store. You get out of the car first, looking around with excitement glistening in your gaze. Nikolai follows after and locks his car. He huffs as soon as he is out of the car, shivering at the chilly breeze brushing his neck. 

“Kolya,” He turns to you, seeing that you are giving him his jacket back. You tiptoe and he bends his knees a little, allowing you to drape the jacket over his shoulders. He smiles. 

“Are you sure?”

You nod eagerly. “I know you’re cold as well. And it’s your jacket, so…” Your words trail off as he wears his jacket properly, adjusting the clothes on his body. Nikolai snickers before he himself puts on the jacket properly. 

“Don’t come crying when you’re freezing later.” He teases before he takes your wrist, tugging you close beside him. Both of you make your way to the convenience store, entering the empty premise. The cashier looks sleepy and barely awake—he does not even spare a glance at either of you. 

As soon as you are inside, you wiggle your hand out of Nikolai’s grip and make your way deeper inside, looking through the snacks on the shelves. Nikolai only glances in your direction before he grabs two cans of beer and a packet of sushki. He goes to you, seeing you are carrying a basket and still choosing things to buy. 

“Hey,” He calls you before tossing his stuff into your basket. You look at him as he gives you his wallet. “I’ll wait outside.”

The speed of your hand snatching his wallet like a thief makes him raise his eyebrow in amusement. The naughty grin forming on your face as you hold his worn-out leather wallet brings a jeer on him. “Okay, beggar. Make it quick.”

He leaves you to sit outside at a table. He takes out his phone and replies to Olga’s spamming text—he still has to explain to you about your future in living with Olga. Most of his preparations for St. Petersburg are almost done. Two weeks left—two weeks and he will be gone from this town, catching the train to go on a twelve-hour journey. 

But still, he has to keep working on Eyes of God—the duplicated one, that is. Fyodor’s location is ever-changing as if the man is waiting for him and knows who is coming for his life. One thing that is consistent with all the coordinates he has noted from his work is that Fyodor is in St. Petersburg. Nowhere else. 

His routine is unpredictable though. One day, the surveillance camera caught him walking into a church. The next day, he was seen in a library and left after thirteen hours of staying in that building. Sometimes, the surveillance cameras do not even catch sight of him—which could be because Fyodor is also actively trying to avoid authorities.

Does he even want to get into Meursault again? This time, Nikolai will not go and jailbreak him. Nikolai is also pretty sure that the authorities on Meursault have amplified and strengthened the security in that secret prison. How could they not? He literally broke into Meursault by killing a lot of guards, released two dangerous ability users with his ability too easily and toyed with the whole system in the building like a dollhouse. A single person who does not even possess a world-destroying ability can bring so much chaos—it would be a dumb move for authorities to not amp up their game. 

Nikolai sighs. He feels exhausted. Part of him wants to stop this pursuit. Yet, he is still unsatisfied. His heart craves for a closure that does not end with a conclusion to his raison d’etre. The closure he wants is the spilling of blood—a grandiose ending for an unbound performer to his puppeteer. 

He puts his phone down and finally lifts his head to assess the place he is in. He sees that you are by a counter—not the paying kind, but rather, a counter where people get hot water and have access to the microwave. You are heating up your food, it seems. He watches you for thirty more seconds before looking away. 

However, his eyes then catch the sight of a weird car parked not far from the building. The car is parked directly under the street light. From afar, people may not see a single lone masked man sitting inside it. The plate number is even stranger, specifically, its region code. 

Seven-seven-seven. That is the code for Moscow. 

Whyever does a car from Moscow travel so far here? 

Nikolai stares at the car, hard. His hand slips into his jacket, digging into the void before his fingers wrap around a solid metal. He raises his body a little and perhaps the person in the car realises the situation he is in—the lights from the car brighten up and Nikolai watches the vehicle leave the place, fast. Hasty. 

“Kolya?” 

Nikolai turns his head, seeing you carrying a cup of instant noodles and a plastic bag full of snacks. You blink at him confusedly before you look around. “What’s wrong?” You ask. 

“Nothing. Just thought there was a thief.” Nikolai replies before he sits back down and releases his grip on his gun, letting the weapon fall back into the unknown. You walk towards him and pull your noodles and the snacks on the table before pulling a chair close to right beside him. 

Nikolai says nothing of your effort to be close to him. He does not even move an inch to give himself some space, letting you intrude however far you please. As you are stirring your noodles, he takes the beers and sushki from the bag, receiving a curious look from you. 

“Are you not eating?” You ask. “I grabbed a beef sandwich for you here.” You show him the rest of the snacks you have bought with his money. Nikolai only shakes his head. 

“Not hungry.” He says. 

You grin mischievously. “Well, the sandwich is mine then—” 

Before you can touch the sandwich, Nikolai quickly slaps your hand before snatches the sandwich away. “I am not hungry, for now. Doesn’t mean I don’t want it. All of these are mine. It’s my money.” He grumbles. 

“It’s not like I have any money of my own!” You huff.

“That’s why you will work with Olga. Or something.” Nikolai says before he opens a can of beer and sips the strong alcohol. He does not really want to get drunk so much, so he decides to not drink the whole thing in one go. 

“What do you mean?” You ask as you eat your noodles. “What were you talking about with Olga earlier?”

“A week or two from now, Olga will take care of you. She agreed to let you stay at her house.” He says while he thoughtlessly nibbles on a piece of sushki. His eyes are staring deeply at the table. “I told you before, you cannot and will not come with me to Peters.”

You are silent for a moment. Your small voice creaks out timidly. “Does that mean… I only have a few weeks with you?” His heart tugs downward when he feels your desperate grip on his arm. Nikolai refuses to turn his head towards you, so he looks away, staring at the nothingness in the sky instead. 

“Will you come back?”

“I don’t know, love.”

“Why?”

“I just… don’t know.” He murmurs. His thought is only to find his old friend and return a favour—to claim and experience freedom. He can only plan so far—and he knows planning against one such as The Conjurer himself can only get him to a certain point of success. 

Frustrated, he takes a few chugs of his beer. “I feel like I’m going to die in a way.”

Your eyes widen, gawking at him. Fear casts over you as you shake your head slightly. “I don’t want you to get hurt…”

“Too late to say that, isn’t it?” He sighs before he takes out a cigarette, lighting it up. He turns his head, blowing the smoke away from you. “I mean… if it wasn’t because of Fyodor, I would be dead right now.” He pauses, taking another smoke. “I was supposed to die during one of our schemes. Getting chopped in half with a saw—scary thing, isn’t it?”

You cringe—just imagining the thought of shooting someone already makes you feel extremely uneasy. You wonder how brutal his past could be. You knew he was a terrorist—which is weird because any terrorist would be deep in the dungeon for the rest of their life. Yet, this particular one is sitting right beside you, enjoying his beer and cigarette—he looks beautiful, although his eyebags may suggest otherwise. 

In your (perhaps, wrong) gaze, he is beautiful. 

“Was that a plan… created by Fedya guy?” You ask carefully with disgust on your face. Nikolai nods silently. At that moment, a brief memory passes by in your brain when you remember the news you saw on the bus all those years ago. 

“Was he inspired by that one terrorism event in Japan?” You say. As if you catch his interest, Nikolai looks at you. “Do you know? The one where a lot of government officials got killed? I heard that they were… sawed in half.” You frown as your gaze lowers to your food. 

“Oh…”

“Mm-hm. I don’t know the details but it sounds like what Fedya guy intended to do with you is similar to what happened to those people. Poor them… It must have been so painful for the families to mourn. Because, you know, they’re like… half…” You murmur as you continue eating the noodles that are no longer hot—the weather helps cool it down, maybe too cool. 

“Right…” 

You turn your head at him, with cheeks puffed out as you just stuff a big chunk of noodles in your mouth. “You— don’t— mm, look like you’re— hold on— bothered by it.”

Nikolai snorts before he pokes your cheek. “I, have, seen, worse.” He says. “And to say that I am not bothered by it… No… I guess I wasn’t. But that sentiment turned into something else that actually bothered me.” His finger stops poking your cheek before his thumb gently caresses your skin, trailing down to your lips before his hand pulls away. 

He leans back. His heart becomes heavier the more he talks about his little agenda—the thing that drives his passion to achieve something in life. In an attempt to submerge his thoughts that might go havoc later on, he stuffs more pieces of sushki into his mouth. 

“Are you thinking of something?” You suddenly ask. “Your agitation… is kinda obvious, if one has spent so much time staring at you enough.” You smile teasingly. 

Nikolai scoffs, crossing his arm. “And here I thought I am enigmatic enough.”

“You are! In a way. I mean, Nastasya told me before, like before you got to prison and all, that you were very… how to say this in a nicer way… Hm…” You tap your chin in wonder. “She said you were… chaotic and obnoxiously scary.” 

“Ouchie, that hurts.” Nikolai places his hand on his chest, acting surprised and shocked, though his tone suggests otherwise. 

“But I think you have become softer now,” You lean closer to him, tilting your head adorably. 

“Mm-hm, and what makes you think that I will not pose myself differently to you?” 

You sit straight as if you are baffled by his sarcasm. “You have been drunk in front of me. And I have heard a lot of drunken words from others. A lot of times, they rarely lie.”

Nikolai swears his heart drops to the floor and runs away, nowhere to be found. Shit, he forgot about him being drunk and sleeping on the same bed, head resting on your breasts so comfortably. He still does not recall what he has said to you that night and the fact that you bring that up now makes him nervous about whatever confession he has laid down to you. 

It must be something embarrassing. What else could it be? I laid on her chest and slept for the whole night in her arms like a baby! Not that it’s a bad thing— No, no, no, shut up. She’s weird. No, she’s actually very nice. Too nice. Should I ask about what I have said? She would not lie to me, right? She never lies to me. She would rather lie to herself, so long she satisfies her love. 

To me. 

No. 

“Y-You gotta get rid of that observation s-skill of yours, perhaps.” He says before he drinks the rest of his beer. Then, your hand grips his wrist, gently pulling his beer away from his lips. “W-What?” His voice sounds slurred. 

“Don’t drink too fast. You’re gonna get more drunk. You’re already tipsy.”

Ahh, that explains it. 

No wonder he feels agitated for no reason. Nikolai obediently nods and puts down the beer on the table. He is indeed tipsy and he needs to stay focused because he is going to drive later. He does not want to get too intoxicated.

But his hand refuses to let go of the can. “There’s half left…” He poutily mumbles. “It’d be a waste if I stop drinking it.”

“Let me finish it then,” You say. “I know how to drink without getting drunk so fast, you know?” You wink playfully and he reluctantly lets you take the beer from his hand. 

“Oh, yeah? What’s your secret, baby?” Nikolai rests his chin on his hand. You bite your lower lip but it does not help a joyful squeal leaves your mouth upon hearing his soft yet sultry voice. 

Your heartbeat is faster—you can feel the drumming of it travelling through your veins as you shakily grab your apple juice cup and open the lid. “W-Well, we usually drink watered-down alcohol… or just mix it up with other drinks. Sometimes we served them… but the customers never know.” You grin. 

Nikolai watches in horror as you pour the rest of his beer into your apple juice. “You’re gonna burn your liver quicker than me if this is your way of drinking.” He says. Shaking his head in slight amusement and more perplexity, he just watches you drink your combination of beer and apple juice. 

He is pretty sure you are going to get drunk much sooner. 

“You know, girls like you should leave as soon as possible if their captor cannot think properly.” He blurts out another one of his jumbled thoughts before he snacks on the sushki. You giggle as a response—somehow your pitch is higher, as if you are slowly entering euphoria. 

“You’re not the first drunk man I have to deal with.” You smile. Holding his arm, you say affectionately, “And you’re much much much nicer than anyone else.”

Nikolai hums, pleased. “Mm-hm? What’s the worst thing that has ever happened to you?” He asks.

“Uh… hit me?”

“I’m not talking about your daddy. I mean, the customers.”

“Oh!” You suck the air through your teeth, thinking. “Well, there’s this one time where this man got so wasted that even when I tried to stop him, he kept drinking. He started shouting because he wanted to lay his head on my lap—”

“And you allowed him?” Nikolai cuts you off. 

You nod, fast. “Yeah. I had to. He laid his head on my lap and then… um… He kinda asked me for his pacifier—” Nikolai bursts out laughing. “D-Don’t laugh! I mean, he’s old, so he’s probably feeling nostalgic. But anyway, I had no choice because he was starting to cause a scene, so… I let him suckle on my—”

“Wait. Don’t tell me…” Nikolai cuts off again and you shush him. 

“Can I speak, please?” You pout. “I let him suckle on my fingers. It was weird. Very very weird!”

“Oh, thank God,” Nikolai whispers as he watches you staring at your hand in disgust—maybe those were the fingers that had to feel the slimy tongue of an old drunken man. “That’s pretty tame, in my opinion.” He comments before he continues eating his sushki. 

“That’s like… the second worst thing.” You reply as you resume drinking your poisonous—as Nikolai thought it—alcoholic juice. 

“What’s the worst of the worst?”

Your gaze is blank as you scour through your memories, lips still clamping on the straw as you continue sipping little by little. Nikolai’s gaze is blank too—though they are not due to reminiscing, rather they are hypnotised by how alluring your lips look right now. Pouty and wet—or glossy, hell, he does not even know. You are quiet and still for a moment, allowing Nikolai to stare and scan your body as he pleases. 

His mismatched irises land on your lap. A familiar heat he felt this evening when you were roaming around Olga’s diner with that boy comes barging in again. His fingers clench as he bites his inner cheek, remembering that an old disgusting man had the chance to lay on them. 

He despises the thought. He despises the image his mind is forming based on what you have described even more. 

Should have been me…

His hand grabs the beer can, intending to swallow his jealousy with another rush of ecstasy, but upon lifting the empty can, he angrily puts it on the table. 

“I think—!” You suddenly speak, a little louder. Nikolai smirks to himself—you are definitely not in the most sober state now. He notices that you have sipped almost half of your drink. You must have drank it while thinking about things. 

“I think the worst that ever happened was when… Well, you know, the other escorts do not encourage me to sleep with customers. Because, uh, selling fantasy, things like that.” You lean back, resting your head on his shoulder. “Then, there’s this one night, one of the regulars there—we called him Mr. Ben—and he kinda pulled me to the private section. You know, the one where the table is all covered with curtains. And then I was like— I kinda— I told him I don’t want to sleep with him. He called me pretty and cute and— Wait,” You drink some more. “Mr. Ben said he just wanted me to watch him. And I was like ‘Watch what?’ and then he took off his pants and started doing… Uh, you know… the thing that men do. This…” You jerk your fist up and down as a demonstration. “That kind of thing…”

“Holy fuck, stop.” Nikolai grabs your wrist, stopping your very helpful demonstration. His shoulders shake before he inhales deeply. But his effort still does not help the bits of laughter escaping. 

“Yeah. That was the worst.” You emphasise your point by poking his nose with the same hand that was jerking the air just a few seconds ago. “I did not look at it!” You yell, defensively. “I just stared at the floor.”

“You know, for someone who has seen horrors done by men, you should have been more distrusting towards people in general,” Nikolai remarks, keeping his grip on your hand. His thumb rubs your pulse. The sheer size between his hand and yours is a pleasant sight. His fingers link between yours, tipsy mind drifts off to an imaginary world where he is holding your hand during something else entirely. 

Something lewd. 

“Would you be like Mr. Ben?” You retort his remark. 

“Uhm… no…?”

You yank your hand from his grip and wrap your arms around him, clinging. “Then I have no reason to distrust you. You’re perfect.” You murmur, burying your face on his shoulder. Your body is extremely tilted against him—your bum is barely placed on the chair. 

“I know, little dove.”

You start to wail. “You’re so perfect, you know that? You’re so nice to me and you’re so kind… You’re so smart and I think you trying to be free is so admiring. I kinda feel jealous sometimes because I cannot do that…” You sigh loudly. “And I just really want you to be happy. Sometimes you’re so scary and so rough but it is like… It feels so good… Does that make sense?”

Nikolai feels the warmth makes itself cosy in his heart at your babbling. It is cute, he thinks, especially with the glassy eyes you are flashing him—you are tearing up just by thinking of him. He does not know whether this affection comes from intoxication or genuine love, but he enjoys it. He likes it. 

He feels happy with it. 

And as much as he wants to pull away from that desire—to stay focused on his freedom, you are much more alluring. 

Fine, just this night. I will allow myself. 

His hand reaches up to you and Nikolai then gently caresses your head. His gesture causes you to look up at him, staring with a flushed face and yearning gaze. He chuckles softly before he carefully pulls your arms away from his body. His hands then cup your face, cooing at your teary yet darling look. 

“Oh, you little crybaby…”

“I’m not crying!”

“Yeah, I don’t know about that, love.” His thumbs press harder on your lower eyelids, wiping the brimming tears. “Doesn’t seem like ‘I’m not crying!’ to me.” He mimics your voice, receiving a pouty face from you. Your lips slant upwards. 

Tempting fucking lips. 

“I’m— I— I just—”

“I, I, I. Come on, baby. Speak.” He teases again. 

You sniffle. “I… It’s just… I cried because I love you so much…”

Nikolai smiles. 

“Don’t you love me too?”

Nikolai sighs. “Mm… Time to go home.” He says to himself before he grabs the plastic bag containing the rest of the snacks and slips it into his jacket. It disappears into the overcoat. You usually would be excited at the sight of him using his ability, but your mind is more focused on something else. 

“Please? Can you answer me? Do you love me too?”

Nikolai does not answer as he gets up and brushes off the crumbs from all the sushki he feasted on earlier. He takes your hand but you refuse to get up the chair until you get your answer to adorn your own fairytale. 

“Let’s go, love. It’s getting so late now.”

“No, no! Answer me first, please? Or else you’re just like Mr. Ben to me in my eyes!”

Nikolai shakes his head. “Well, Mr. Ben or not, we are going home now.” He tugs your hand, trying to convince you to get up. You whine, stomping your foot childishly. 

“No! I don’t wanna get up!”

“Fine.” 

He leans forward, flinging one of your arms behind him before he hoists you up, getting you nice and stable on his shoulder. You whine again, shaking your legs as you watch both of you go further and further away from the convenience store. His hand is placed firmly on the back of your thighs, preventing you from even rebelling much.

Reaching the car, carefully, Nikolai puts you in the vehicle—or rather shoves you in—and buckles your seatbelt. You cross your arms, huffing as he goes to the driver’s seat. When he is finally seated and buckled as well, he takes a good look at you. 

Sulky. 

“You don’t love me…” You mumble, angrily. 

“I did not even say that.”

“Hmph!”

Nikolai scratches his head and then shrugs his shoulders. You will not be angry for long anyway. Tomorrow you will forget. But maybe not tonight. He can very much answer you—he knows and has the answer in his heart. 

It is just that he still wants to deny it. 

Human compassion leads him to agony. He learnt it the hard way. 

— ♡

Nikolai is still tipsy. 

Perhaps the beer he consumed earlier was too strong. No wonder you went crazy—in a good way. At least you were not unhinged like drunk Nastasya. Just thinking about dealing with her makes Nikolai shudder. He washes his face a couple more times, trying to get rid of the floating feeling in his head. 

He brought you home, successfully. You were not angry for long, as he expected. He was carrying you by the stairs and you were quick to tell him a story where your father pushed you down the stairs because you were slow at packing things up—happened during one of his attempts to escape loan sharks. Then you went to say you love him because he carried you upstairs. 

Weird. 

But it did amuse him to the max. 

You went to take a shower first and by the time Nikolai wanted to grab his towel from the bedroom, he saw you already lying on the bed, sleeping, in one of his shirts and his shorts. The sight is… pleasant. You must have been so tired from a long day of working.

Nikolai finally decides to leave the bathroom. He takes his towel and wraps it around his waist before walking to the bedroom. He sees that your eyes are closed, still asleep. Great, he can just get dressed in his own room. 

He takes his time choosing a shirt with his sweatpants hanging on his shoulder. Occasionally he glances at you. You keep shifting in your sleep—sometimes you lay on your back, your stomach or your side. Is the bed getting uncomfortable for you? Or is it the blanket? Either way, it does not even matter because what attracts his eyes is the fact that he can see the swell of your breasts peeking out from the collar of his shirt. 

Right… You tend to not wear bras when sleeping. It is a common fact. Nothing so surprising because Nikolai is aware of this trait of yours since the second night you sleep in his clothes. 

So, why is his dick hardening right now? 

It’s just boobs, god damn it. You’ve seen them many times. 

Nikolai swears it is getting so much more difficult to stay in the same room with you any longer. His tipsy mind is not helping him with the random arousal he gets from your little quirks—from your stories about letting a man suck your fingers to the sight of his shirt riding up your soft and touch-inviting tummy. 

Once we’re in Peters, we’ll get a hookup! —His head suggests. But Nikolai finds the thought to be repulsing. He does not want to hook up with anyone else. His lust and desire are not sketching a silhouette of his future partner for a tryst or anything. 

They are illustrating you, manifesting you. 

It has been a while since he last had sex, and really, he could have done so at any time he wanted. But ever since a little dove settles herself on his bed like it is hers, to begin with, he finds it hard to even plan or think about his next date in a local nightclub. 

He does not want anyone else. His heart refuses to even immerse himself in a lust shared by somebody else somewhere. Nikolai wants it here, shared with you. But he knows if he indulges himself in a series of pantomimes more intimate than a hug, there will be no turning back. He is already a possessive man, to begin with.

But what’s wrong with it? What’s wrong with it? Was there even a path to turn back? There’s no turning back ever since that day. So what’s wrong with indulging a little bit more? And maybe more? 

“Kolya?” 

Nikolai flinches as he grips his towel, apprehensive. He looks down at his body—thank God, he is dressed. He was lost in his thoughts but gladly his body could still dress itself on auto-pilot. Nikolai hastily hangs his towel on a hook by the closet. 

“I thought you were asleep… Were you watching me getting dressed?” Nikolai says. You blink confusedly at him and shake your head. 

“Can’t really stay sleep… I didn’t look at you… I was… staring at the floor… Because you’re like Mr. Ben…” Your words are staggering as if you are still barely sober. Nikolai scoffs. 

“I don’t even take off my pants and jack off in front of you and you’re comparing me with Mr-fucking-Ben.” Nikolai jabbers quickly without even thinking twice. Only after he notices your eyes widen, he freezes and starts to actually contemplate his life. 

“Sorry. Uh, that was not appropriate…” He mumbles awkwardly. “G-Go back to sleep. Don’t bother me.” He says again before walking to the door. 

“Do you want to sleep with me?”

He freezes again. His mind is running wild. Wilder. He feels like he is going crazy with the scenarios that his mind is playing with right now. He is trying to think straight, he swears, but everything about you is too damned alluring. 

Your sweet voice, your tempting body, your flushed face, your sweet kindness, your pure innocence—god damn you, I hate you so much. 

Nikolai thinks he made the mistake of turning his head towards you, for his eyes are now feasting on the way you look—laying so vulnerably on his bed, your stomach is peeking from the shirt and your chest is begging for him to rest his head on them. The shorts cover your thighs, but even your calves look ravishing. He wants to dig his nails deep into that flesh—he truly does. 

His dick is hard, Nikolai has to admit it already. 

“I-I don’t think t-that’s a good… idea…” He says. It feels like he is facing a darn succubus—except this one is as dainty as a fairy. 

“Mm… I don’t think sleeping on the couch is a good idea too…” You murmur, adjusting your position once more. Your hands reach the hem of the shirt and pull it down, covering your stomach. Nikolai protests internally—he wants to see, maybe if there is a chance (there is plenty of it but he pretends blind), he wants to touch it. 

“I just…” You pause, yawning. “I just want you to be comfy when resting…” You mumble before you scoot to one side, making space for him already. You pull the blanket close to your body again, looking at him with droopy eyes. “If you wanna sleep here, just get on the bed, okay? I don’t mind…”

Nikolai thinks he is possessed. Or maybe he is just following his own heart. 

His hand pushes the door to close and he steps closer to the bed. His eyes meet yours and you give him a delightful smile. Nikolai swallows nervously before he sits at the edge of the bed, scared to even lay on the mattress. 

Fuck, what am I? A virgin? —He berates himself internally. 

He takes a deep breath and finally sinks his body onto the bed, but he is as still as a statue—as a mummy even. He tries to shut his eyes, wishing his lascivious mind and his perverted thoughts to die away like a dimmed candle. 

“You’re so handsome, Nikolai…”

Alright, it’s hard again. It is definitely hard.

Nikolai tenses, shutting his eyes harder as if he can even relax his own arousal when he hears your dulcet voice and subtle touch on his arm. The way your finger is tracing his skin feels familiar—your fingertip is following the lines of his tattoos. 

“C-Can you just sleep?”

“Sorry… You’re just… so… handsome. And your hair is very pretty…” You murmur. Nikolai is hesitant to open his eyes, fearing that he will not fall asleep peacefully later but he really wants to take a look at you. 

So he does. 

He turns his head to the side, looking at you. Your gaze is piercing—needy. He blushes when he sees your legs are tightly together and his very-not-so-innocent mind is wandering to one and only one possibility. And that possibility brings him a tint of comfort because now he knows—and he thinks he is right—that he is not the only one feeling so bothered. 

“Kolya…” You mumble, one hand reaches his face. With a weak yet sultry voice, you ask, 

“Do you love me too?”

Suddenly, he seizes your wrist, grip tightens before he lifts his body and leans forward—pushing himself onto you, pushing his lips onto yours.

Fuck.

I can't think. 

I can't stop. 

His hand cups your face, moaning against your lips as his tongue probes between your lips. Your hand instinctively grips onto his hair as you whimper between the kiss. Your saliva dribbles slightly from your lips and Nikolai unashamedly licks it before his lips continue to devour yours. 

You feel his hands travel to your body, roaming on your torso. His palm halts under the mount of your breast. You break the kiss, only to whine softly. But your break is not for long as his other hand grabs your hair, pulling you to another deep kiss. He sinks his tongue into your mouth smoothly and you try to match his pace. 

But he is hungrier. 

He has been wanting it for long. 

Nikolai thinks his tipsiness is spiralling deeper into pure intoxication. He groans against your lips, grinding his hips upward when your lips are teasing against his. He grabs and fondles whatever he can reach—your hips, your ass. One of his hands slips under your shirt, and finally, his palm touches your bare stomach, pinching and squeezing your flesh. 

Your moan that was subdued finally manages to leave your mouth when his lips slide to your cheek and jaw, nibbling on your skin. He buries his face into your neck, inhaling your scent, moaning against you. His tongue slithers on your pulse, travels, trails and traces every spot he can taste. With your arms wrapped around him, you moan breathily when you feel his hand brush over your chest—halting for a few seconds on your hardened nipple. 

His mouth on your neck gets rougher and you wince when you feel slight pain when he nibbles on your skin hard, as if he is going to rip it off, as if he is going to devour you, literally. Though, hearing your painful wince sends him a message to be softer—he kisses the spot he just nibbles and those kisses trail up again to catch your lips. 

This time, you match his pace—holding his face as you kiss him back, battling tongues until air is no more. Nikolai is too eager—even after a break, he is relentless, kissing you deeper and sloppier each time he drives his lips against yours. His hand slips into your shorts, his nails raking the skin of your thigh. You grip on his shoulders, whimpering. 

“A-Aah…!” Your thigh jerks away from his rough, demanding touch. Nikolai’s hand pauses and he plants one last kiss on your lips. Your face is an inch close to him. His emerald and lilac irises are staring deeply into yours and shivers run down your spine at his darkened gaze. 

“Sorry… I was being… rough. I wasn’t—”

His words are cut off when you shut your eyes and lean forward slightly. Your lips pucker, planting a chaste kiss on his lips. Timidly, you open your eyes, looking at him sheepishly. He seems surprised but a soft smile later forms on his lips. 

“I love it.” You mumble shyly. Your hands gently nuzzle his face before you lean again. He closes his eyes and you kiss the scar slit through his left eye softly. 

“I love you.”

Nikolai opens his eyes and then looks at you intently. Your hand moves a little up, caressing his hair too. He sighs quietly before he tilts his head down, resting it on your chest, and you gladly embrace him, just like that night. 

“I love you.” You say again and he nods silently, tilting his head up to give a little peck on your collarbone. 

“I love you.” A kiss. 

“I love you.” Another kiss. 

“I love you.” And more kisses. 

©cherikolya 2024 — do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated

if you like my works, consider buy me a ko-fi!

Tiktok is getting banned, so I need to post here again >_<. pfps or something idk

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ christmas w/ the bsd men .ᐟ

⍋⋆*❅ pairing: various bsd men x gn!reader [dazai, atsushi, ayatsuji, ranpo, fukuzawa, nikolai, fyodor, sigma, bram, chuuya, akutagawa, oda, ango, jouno, tecchou]

⍋⋆*❅ genre: fluffy headcanons (some crack again hehe)

⍋⋆*❅ content warnings: none! also headcanons are focused more on cultural/winter festivity aspects of christmas, not the religious ones (except for mentions in fyodor's part)

⋆˙ ☃︎ — 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐄𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐘

⁺⋆*❅ dazai osamu

you both decide to go out and explore the city!

purposely stops under every mistletoe around town to makeout with you (he somehow knows where all of them are...)

you go bar hopping to try different holiday drinks like spiked eggnog, cranberry mimosas, and whiskey sours

after you both get super drunk, he takes you out to the town square and twirls you around so you're both dancing under the fresh snow and moonlight

you make christmas cards for everyone with custom stamps and bake christmas cookies to gift (he sets aside the ugly cards + burnt cookies to give to mori/the port mafia)

⁺⋆*❅ atsushi nakajima

something cute to heal your inner child

he takes you sledding, and you scream the whole time from how fast you both go

atsushi tries to help all the kids at the bottom of the hill who wipe out (awwww)

you don't tell him, but his nose gets super red from the cold and you think it's really cute

you get hot chocolate on the way back and spend the night talking by the fireplace (he got you both matching pjs)

⁺⋆*❅ ayatsuji yukito

christmas = the perfect opportunity to dress you up, either as a slavic doll or mr./mrs. claus

escorted by security and a sniper ofc, you both go to the mall and shop around (mostly so he can buy more clothes and accessories for you)

you both get some eggnog and take photobooth pictures at the mall

before he gives you your presents back at home, he pulls you into his lap and makes you tell him if you've been naughty or nice like he's santa lol

does the pocky thing with you but uses a candy cane o///o

gifts you all the shopping bags full of clothes he bought for you at the mall

⁺⋆*❅ ranpo edogawa

ofc it's all about sweets so you build gingerbread houses

ranpo can't build one so he ends up eating his and all of the candy you bought

you both make more sweets from scratch (ranpo probably quits halfway through bc he burnt the gingerbread cookies), so it's just you lol

you decorate christmas cookies and make candy cane hot cocoa and eggnog

after voicing your concerns about having too many sweets and baked goods, ranpo assures you that they'll be added to his snack collection/vault and there's no need to share them with everyone else

⁺⋆*❅ fukuzawa yukichi

doesn't like to celebrate much--he originally wanted to go to a cat cafe, but it was closed bc of the holiday :(

he planned on having a cozy christmas dinner with you and some other members of the doa instead at the office (definitely not bc he also still has work to finish)

somehow, ranpo convices the both of you to dress up as mr. & mrs. claus and you have a whole photoshoot at the office

you end the night at a secluded onsen with some warm tea 😌

⁺⋆*❅ kunikida doppo

basically the karen/soccer mom of christmas. he has an itenerary planned out and you're sticking to it.

you start by unwrapping presents by the tree⎯he gets you something you've had your eye on for a while, since he knows you wouldn't buy it with your own money (so he bought it for you)

i can't explain it but he def has the perfect ugly sweater that he only pulls out and wears on christmas

you then go to do something cute outside, deliver presents to the other doa members (he gives dazai bandages + coal...)

probably the type to refuse to go into their houses/apartments bc he doesn't want to waste too much time (he lowk caves in tho)

at the end of the day, you both visit a pretty christmas lights show

⋆˙ ☃︎ — 𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐅𝐈𝐀

⁺⋆*❅ chuuya nakahara

chuuya is extra so he goes all out with decorations. he fills the house with poinsettias and a huge christmas tree (he has to use gravity to put all the ornaments on it lol)

you make a special mulled wine together

he takes you out a nice fancy dinner (ofc he bought you a beautiful red suit/dress to go along)

sings for you by the fireplace hehe

the tree is full of gifts when you get home (don't ask him how much he spent, just be appreciative that chuuya's your lover 🤫)

⁺⋆*❅ akutagawa ryunosuke

lowk hates the cold but wants to make u happy so he goes out with you to a christmas market

you both get a matching black scarf and glove set

u go to a curios and antiques store (one of his fav places!) and stop to get some hot tea

akutagawa is constantly blushing bc of ur cuteness, and when u kiss him under a mistletoe, he turns beet red but insists it's just the cold

periodically hugs you "for warmth" and definitely not bc he gets jealous of other people looking at you

when you get back home, you both take a warm bath and cuddle by the fire, and he gifts you a special antique item he secretly bought from the store ♡

⁺⋆*❅ oda sakunosuke

christmas dinner with the kiddos

gets everyone matching ugly sweaters and you both fill the kids' stockings while they make snow angels outside

you go to the mall to take the kids to meet and take pictures with santa

you all bake and decorate gingerbread houses and christmas cookies together

his present for you is a wedding ring, and the kids are beyond excited to have you as their other parent

you all fall asleep watching a christmas movie

⁺⋆*❅ ango sakaguchi

he was forced to take work off bc of the holiday, but he's relieved that he gets to spend more time with you

he takes you to a fancy christmas ball that's being thrown by some government officials

he gets a little tipsy and can't stop complimenting how nice you look in your dress/suit, and how grateful he is to have you as his partner

when you finally dance together, you swear it's the most lively you've seen him look⎯he has that glow in his eyes ^u^

firm believer that he gets super clingy when he hasn't seen you in a while, so during dinner he pulls you into his lap to eat and always has a hand on you

when you both finally go home after a long night out, he gives you a present, which is a nice watch/bracelet

⋆˙ ☃︎ — 𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐀𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐒

⁺⋆*❅ fyodor dostoevsky

obviously takes you to church first

listens to christmas carols from the church choir (he's lowk an old man so he likes them)

you then go to a ballet show to watch the nutcracker

he makes traditional russian dishes for dinner like meat pies, vegetable fillings, and fish, and drink some sbiten (a warm honey + spice drink), which he prefers over hot cocoa

you end the night reading books by the fireplace as he strokes your hair

gifts you your favorite books and some warm winter clothes/coats

⁺⋆*❅ nikolai gogol

christmas is one of his fav holidays after halloween

after decorating the house and the tree, you both go to a christmas wonderland attraction

other visitors/children keep asking if he's santa bc of his white hair, and you giggle innocently as you take pictures of him

makes Sviat Vechir: A 12-dish meal with kolach, cabbage rolls, and other traditional ukrainian dishes for dinner

gifts u a white sweater he knit himself (awww)

⁺⋆*❅ sigma

it's one of his first christmases, so he lets you plan what to do

you make him some cinnamon rolls + eggnog for breakfast

you both bake and decorate some christmas cookies⎯he's surprisingly good at making intricate patterns and designs, and his cookies are so pretty you almost don't want to eat them

you go skiing⎯sigma definitely struggles at first but he gets the hang of it pretty fast

after you get cold, you both go back inside to get some hot cocos and eat some fondue

you both watch the sunset on the ski lift, which is the most beautiful view against the snow-covered mountains (he secretly can't talk his eyes off you tho)

at home, you unbox presents!

he gifts you plane tickets to a nice getaway vacation ( ๑ ˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و ♡

⁺⋆*❅ shibusawa tatsuhiko

(honorary doa girlie lol)

not particularly interested in the holidays, but he likes flashy things so i think he'd enjoy seeing light shows/big christmas displays

however, he likes to spoil you, so he gets you an advent calendar with an assortment of nice clothes, fancy jewelry, and more

watches as you unbox each day's gift and relishes in your cute reactions

lets you paint his nails red, white, and/or green as you sit in his lap

decorates the christmas tree with gems instead of ornaments since he has so many laying around

⋆˙ ☃︎ — 𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒

⁺⋆*❅ jouno saigiku

another winter cabin getaway bc he hates how crowded and noisy the city gets during this time of year

you go iceskating on the lake together

he can hear the position of you feet and corrects your form so you don't slip and fall on the ice

even if you're good at iceskaing, he keep his arms linked with yours the whole time or holds onto your hand

at one point, he feels like showing off and spins you around and throws you up into the air like a figure skater, and he giggles maniacally while you scream

makes snow angels with you

once you get back to the cabin, you both roast some s'mores over the fireplace and enjoy a warm cup of hot cocoa

you snuggle by the fire and fall asleep in eachother's arms

⁺⋆*❅ tecchou suehiro

he takes you to go hunting + ice fishing

you probably get freaked out by the thought of shooting the animals, so you both end up just doing a nature walk in the woods instead lol

while looking for the perfect tree, you find a clearing and build a buff snowman (tecchou insists he's more muscular tho)

tecchou chops the tree you decide on and hauls it back home himself bc he's that strong lol

he decorates the tree while you cook some of the fish he caught for dinner

you also make some berry tarts and jam cookies with some berries you foraged on the walk (.◜◡◝)

The Two-faced Secretary.

single admirer

Movie poster inspired by The Substance movie.

stage fright..!!!!

i tried to paint greyscale then used color layers!! not a big fan but it was kinda therapeutic

Mr. Gap as Your Portable BF!

Welp, the people wanted Mr. Gap so I give Mr. Gap HCs (I’ll do Mr. Silvair another time, maybe this Friday or smth), I’m gonna do both a switch of MC and Mr. Gap in the Otherworld and maybe do some sorta twist towards the end like the Blissful Love Life ending from Mr. Crawling’s route except Mr. Gap became a stowaway fbejbfjsndjbsd

⭑.ᐟ — Mr. Gap being the fucking prankster he is, always doing the 'funny haha' because he thinks it hilarious just having a pair of organs for literally no reason. It gets hella annoying at times but HEY! He can be pretty helpful at times.

⭑.ᐟ — Mr. Gap is a bit of a braggart I mean like— the guy literally showed you a little newspaper clipping with his face in the photo and just dipped without another explanation.

⭑.ᐟ — Because Mr. Gap’s pretty much able to go wherever he pleases since he’s popping outta nowhere from the holes in the wall, a box, and literally anything that has a gap in it. So he’s got an eye on you at all times even when you least expect it, mostly just watching from places that’s out of your view.

⭑.ᐟ — Mr. Gap probably doesn’t like Mr. Scarletella much, the guy’s pretty weird anyhow for actively tracking you in the Ghost Apartments, so he may give a hand every now and then whenever you run into him. If you’re ever near any places with a hole in the wall or a vent of course.

⭑.ᐟ — Mr. Gap the first time he’s getting any affection whether they’re like small kisses, head pats, or you try to hug him, he would be a little against them at first tbh. Then he’d disappear for some time then and the next time he shows up he’s asking for kisses or whatever. Major cat behaviour stuff.

⭑.ᐟ — Mr. Gap probably appears under the covers whenever you’re dead asleep just to leech off of your warmth, by the time you’re waking up he’s already gone.

⭑.ᐟ — It’s somewhat better than Mr. Gap asking if he could take your fingers, your heart, or any of your body parts, but don’t think he’s gonna stop asking for those.

⭑.ᐟ — Your whole relationship with Mr. Gap at first is kind of questionable at best, there’s sort of a love hate thing going on your end but Mr. Gap doesn’t hold anything against you, he just finds you interesting and fun to tease sometimes.

⭑.ᐟ — Now imagine Blissful Love Life from Mr. Crawling’s route except Mr. Gap decided to tag along unbeknownst to you, you later got a jumpscare from Mr. Gap appearing in a drawer.

⭑.ᐟ — This man’s making an absolute ruckus around in your house, making you go on the wildest goose chase for any of your belongings, it’s even more difficult and annoying whenever Mr. Gap takes something the morning as you’re getting ready to go to work. He doesn’t want you to leave, he wants you to stay. Fuck your job even, those people don’t treat you right anyways. >:(

⭑.ᐟ — Mr. Gap absolutely DETESTS getting bathed, the first time trying to get him to clean up was unsuccessful as he holed himself up somewhere in the walls of your home. He didn’t show up for a day until his mood was less grouchy.

⭑.ᐟ — Mr. Gap goes against whatever you tell him to, mostly. But he will listen if you’re that firm about it. He’s DEFINITELY not listening whenever you tell him to stay at home, but it’s too boring at home just staying there with Mr. Crawling! He’ll just tag along with you to work anyways.

⭑.ᐟ — Since your boyfriend (??) is also portable, you can have him chilling in your bag while you go about your day, a nice bonus being he can keep whatever pickpockets or thieves from stealing your things. And nobody would want to touch your bag unless they want to get bitten or lose a finger or their whole hand.

⭑.ᐟ — Your bag is basically a black hole now with Mr. Gap in it, he’ll give you whatever things you’re trying to look for but also keep them from you until you give him a kiss. If you don’t, it’s bye-bye to your wallet/phone for now.

TRASH SUGAR MAGIC

➛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 10: ʀᴇꜰʟᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴꜱ

➛ nikolai gogol x fem!reader

➛ mature content, angst, barely mild fluff | words: 9.2k

➛ ao3 | spotify | main menu

“Dad… I’m scared…”

Your small hand is desperately clinging to his jacket as you try to follow him through the bigger crowd. People around you are much taller, much bigger and much scarier. A speck of an ant—you feel like that is your point of view right now, for a tiny young girl who stands average at an adult’s waist height. 

“Dad— Daddy! Don’t walk too fast—!” Your breath hitches when your hair is gripped hard and you are yanked to his side. You whimper, tears brimming again as he roughly grabs your hand and practically drags you to the bridge. 

Boats with people in poor and depressing conditions are a sight here at the shore. 

“W-Where are we going?” You ask again, scared. Big men holding guns, masked people counting money, packages traded and exchanged. Frustrated groans leave your father’s mouth before he crouches in front of you. His calloused hand grips your jaw, hard. 

“You little… I need you to shut the hell up and do not ask any fucking thing. You know too much, you’re gonna die. You ask too much, you’re gonna die. Nobody cares about your goddamn questions.”

He shakes your puffed face, eyes swollen with tears, nose stifled with snot. 

“Nobody. Cares.”

“Hey, you okay?”

You lift your head and glance at the door. Your kidnapper is standing there and his lips twitch to force himself to smile—only for that attempt to be buried away. What is the point of smiling anyway? 

“You didn’t even eat your coco pops yet… It’s past lunchtime.” He says softly as he steps towards you, sitting down right next to you. Despite sitting at the edge of the bed, your body is slumped horribly—posture goes to hell—and your head is hanging low. 

“I don’t feel like eating…” You reply to him. Your voice cracks a little, most likely due to the lack of water. You have not eaten well for the past two days. When your stomach grumbles, you only nibble on some plain bread you found on the dining table. 

“You said that but you know your body is starving, right?” Nikolai says. 

“I am hungry… I just don’t feel like eating.” 

“… It happened to the best of us.” He replies before he also goes silent, just sitting right next to you without any word lingering in the air. 

One minute. 

Two minutes. 

“Was it the loan shark who killed him?” You finally turn your head towards him. Nikolai does not smile as his mismatched eyes pierce straight into yours. He bites his inner cheek before he averts his gaze away. 

“No. He really did shoot himself.”

“Who told you that?”

“Viktor. Even the loan sharks did not know he killed himself.” Nikolai says. “Forensic said they found a bowl of charcoal in the motel room he resided in. They suspected that he was trying to poison himself with carbon monoxide, but maybe he thought otherwise and used a gun on himself instead.” He tells you, tone as solemn as your own. 

“Do you know why he killed himself?”

“… No idea, love. They also suspected that he could not enter Belarus, which is why he did what he did. Besides, the bad guys your father was indebted to were coming for him before he committed. It was only a matter of hours.” 

You tear away your eyes from him before staring at your lap. The blue nail polish on your nails are peeled off—half of them, anyway. And your thumb continues to scratch your index fingernail, getting rid of the colour. 

“Were you the one who told them about his whereabouts?”

Silence. You do not even look at the man beside you. But his answer is not something unexpected. 

“I’m sorry.” 

—is all he says. 

You do not realise you have been biting your lips until they tremble, begging to be released from the intensity of your sentiment. It is only until you feel your eyes are burning again—burn more and more as you blink fast.

You hastily rub your eyes but you cannot hold back a sniffle. Facing away from him, you murmur, “It’s okay. It’s not your fault. I wasn’t thinking right… I’m the dumb one. I thought you were different.”

He says your name, but his voice is tugged with strings of dolour itself. Syllables are not clear—just a crumpled word. You cover your ears, retreating to your shell as you shrink and shrink—feeling smaller and more humiliated than before. You shake your head.

Hiding. 

His hand reaches out to you but before the slightest touch can ever land, the door is knocked. You cannot see but from the corner of your eyes, you notice the shaky uncertainty in his quiver as he curls his fingers into a fist and retracts his hand away from you. Far far away. 

He does not say anything. He leaves the room and soon after, you hear the unlock.

— ♡

The grocery bags from different stores are still unopened. A bowl of Coco Pops cereal is still untouched and there is already a plate of warm quick lunch beside it. The chair that is supposed to be filled with a person is empty. 

Nikolai stares at that emptiness. 

Even his meal does not feel fulfilling. He already gives up eating his lunch after two spoonfuls of it. He knows the meal he prepared will not be touched again and yet he still prepared it—in hopes that you might come out when he is there in the kitchen, sit in front of him and take your spoon as you tell him your thoughts of the universe. 

But his house has gone empty. 

Just like what it was one month ago before he brought in a stray flower he plucked from the street. 

He learned more from the news and his friend about your father’s suicide. There was a receipt of him buying a bag of charcoal and another receipt of him buying cigarettes and a lighter. Forensic suspected that he intended to die by poisoning his system by creating a hazard in the motel room. 

But ultimately, the quickest and most painless method became his choice. 

He saw the state of your father’s dead body—given by Viktor who managed to access uncensored photographs from a database. Bullet wound through the head, specifically on his mouth and throat. He was lying face down in his pool of blood. 

Gruesome pictures are not something foreign to him. Hell, he kills people for a living too. He has done worse. He skinned a man alive, he poured corrosive poison directly on someone’s head, he made an entire body, save for the head, burst into a mess of flesh and blood—Nikolai has seen and done it all. 

But there is a bitterness when seeing your father’s picture. 

If he were his younger self—crazier, mayhaps—he would have printed that photo and flaunted it in front of your eyes while you were crying for your daddy. 

“See, see! Yes, I made your dad kill himself! Aren’t you happy now, baby? No one’s gonna hurt you anymore, right? You should be thankful to me. Look at it, look at it! See these horrors with your own eyes!”

Perhaps he would say that, taunting you. 

But he is not. He does not have the desire to. He does not even think about mentioning his death if you never hug and cry on him for minutes on a street, rained with light snow. 

Nikolai finally stands up from the chair. He leaves his unfinished food and walks towards the bedroom. He peeks inside, seeing you sit silently on the edge of the bed, consumed with your own thoughts. A shadow is clearly looming over you. His lips part open but close too soon when he thinks back on his decision. 

Two days. Two days you have been like this. Quiet, with only less than fifty words a day to him. 

“Yes.” “No, thank you.” “Okay.” “I’m not hungry.” “I will eat later.” “I’m going to sleep.”

Nikolai despises this small talk—they were barely a talk. His world has gone quiet again, just like the snowy street outside. The evening sky is grey and gloomy, just like his apartment right now. The little bird has stopped chirping, leaving him with no melody to harmonise him. The stray flower he picked has withered, petals falling one by one.

He approaches you and finally sits down beside you after a long while of giving you your needed space. He notices how you slightly flinch at his presence and his eyes harden—What? What are you thinking right now? What are you thinking of me right now? 

“Was it the loan shark who killed him?” You ask. He does not realise he has been holding his breath until he can finally exhale in relief after hearing more of your voice—this time it is not just repeating the same phrases but you actually talked. 

You talk and he indulges in it. 

Nikolai answers your questions and tells you what he knows from the information he has gathered himself. He does not wish to keep them from your knowledge but he does not intend to straightaway tell you either. If you wish to know more, you can always count on him—that is what he wanted. 

Until, 

“Were you the one who told them about his whereabouts?”

He tenses, words are boiling in the brim of his throat and yet nothing comes out. They are not even trying to form a comprehensible sentence—just an abundance of things he thinks he could and can say. He should pick one, decide on one and yet nothing sounds right. His finger points on one and his brain diverts it away and his heart pushes it down. Yes, no, not me, him, her, she did it, he did, I know who, I don’t know, sorry, sorry, sorry—

“I’m sorry.”

It feels right. It is right.

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault. I wasn’t thinking right… I’m the dumb one. I thought you were different.”

No. I am not the same as them. You’re not dumb—I fucking am. I am not like them. I am different. I am not the same. I am not.

Nikolai does not realise it when he starts to clench his fist. He despises being compared to normality—hells, that is one of the very reasons he defied the norm by dressing up as a loud clownish jester. He is not the same as any other people—he is aware of his cage, unlike all of them. He wonders who you are comparing him with. The other rancid killers? The other ugly kidnappers? The other heartless murderers? 

He is not like them.

Your sniffles are rusty needles, pricking his heart deeper and deeper especially when that is the only response you give after he calls your name. It jabs, it spikes, it hurts. The rust only spreads more dread.

When your body shrinks to its cocoon, his lips open again, wanting to tell you to stop. When your hands cover your own ears, his own pair twitches, wanting to grab your wrists and pull them away so you can hear his voice. You are hiding from him. And Nikolai does not like it. He hates it.

His hand reaches up to you.

Knock, knock, knock!

His hand halts in the air. He does not remember calling or expecting any visit. He wishes it is not one of the loan sharks, trying to take you away from him. Not now. Not yet. Not ever.

“I am going to check it.” —He does not say that. He could not. You are not even looking at him, not even wanting to talk anymore. This is not right. This is not how both of you work. Gaze should be shared and yet you are facing away, staring at the dirt in the corner instead of him.

He gets up and walks to the door. He unlocks it and opens it slightly, to see who is behind it. Two faces he does not expect, especially when his relationship with one of them is as sour as a pair of divorced parents. 

“We brought food,” Viktor says.

“Viktor…”

“You and I need to talk, darling. Now. I won’t accept any answer or I’ll literally commit arson in this building tonight.” He scowls. Once Nikolai finally opens the door wider, Nastasya pushes him aside and steps into his house uninvited. She does not even spare him a look. But the way her hand shoves him, he can only guess how high her anger is towards him.

“Geez, you are more frustrating to deal with than before. All grumpy and shit. Told you to go to therapy but you’re too prideful for that. Therapy is cheaper than coming to you, you know that, asshat?” Viktor huffs, crossing his arms. He glares at Nikolai up and down, snorting scornfully. “Not gonna dwell in guilt, huh? What’s with that face?”

Nikolai does not say anything as he stares at the floor for a moment. “Give me a minute. We’re gonna talk downstairs.”

— ♡

“Why are you not eating lunch?”

You jump slightly at the familiar voice. You turn to the door, seeing Nastasya holding a bowl of stale coco pops. “You’re not hungry? Viktor and I even bought more food for you. Not for… that clown, though. He’s pissing me off.” She grumbles as she walks towards you with the cereal. She sits beside you, offering you your ‘breakfast’.

You shake your head. “Not hungry.”

And your stomach grumbles. Loudly.

“I hope that’s not fart,” She says before she grabs your hand and places the bowl on it. You look at her, taking in her appearance today—plain grey tank top and jeans, black fur jacket and her cross necklace. Her lipstick is a little smudgy but you are not going to point that out. Your eyes look away and travel to the bowl of coco pops.

“I don’t think this is edible anymore.”

“You’re right. That’s why we have other food. Come on, we’re not going to let you be malnourished.” She says before she takes your arm and gets up. Her hold on you is quite firm and you have no choice other than to follow her. Both of you step out and you instinctively look around the house.

“He’s with Viktor. Outside.” Nastasya says. “It’s just you and me in the house.”

“Are you watching over me?”

She shakes her head before she sits down at the dining table. “No. Vitya wanted to talk to Nikolai alone.”

“Why did you follow along?”

Nastasya stares at you and she says nothing. She just taps the spot on the table in front of her, gesturing to you to sit down. You obey, sitting down on your usual chair. In front of you is a plate of untouched meals. It is supposed to be your lunch.

“You wanna eat that or the food we bought for you?” Nastasya asks before she pushes the plastic bag containing food takeaways towards you. “Pick whichever you want.”

“I don’t feel like eating…”

“I know, but you must eat.” You are about to protest but Nastasya hisses once and you immediately take one of the food takeaways from the bag. You reach the provided cutlery from the bag as well and begin to half-heartedly stir the noodles. You eat the noodles, but your pace is extremely weak and slow as you pick one strand by one strand.

The smell of tobacco hits your nose and you glance up, seeing Nastasya huff the smoke to the side, away from you. Her eyes are blank as they are fixated on the lit cigarette, watching the fire devouring the white paper bit by bit. Her other hand is twirling her necklace.

“How do you feel?” She suddenly asks. You lift your head, one hand fiddles with the hem of your—well, Nikolai’s—shirt. You eye her, confused. She sighs softly. “How do you feel these days?” She repeats again.

Your gaze falls on the noodles. God, you really do not have the spirit to even chew a strand of it. Mindlessly nudging the noodles with the fork, you let out a heavy breath.

“Weird, somehow.” You say. “My father… um… well, I think you already knew. He died.” A pause. “I feel a little sad about it. I mean, he is— was… not a good person. Very not good. I knew he wouldn't come to my aid from the beginning. He never even cared when I did not come home for a night because I had to sleep in the bar for warmth. He stole my money, he dragged me here and there to run away… Said if people got me, he’ll be in trouble.”

“He’s a bad person… And I think I am not supposed to feel sad about it. I shouldn’t even feel surprised that he left me all the way almost out of the country. And yet…” Your vision is blurry as you feel warm tears start to drip over your eyes. Your lips are hanging open, seeking the words that you could put to complete the puzzles in your mind. “Yet… Yet, I… I feel disappointed.”

“It’s like I still have some hope, somewhere, that my father may still care just a bit about me. That my father is a father. But… he died now… He did it to himself… Left me here across the country… With… bad people…” You look down at your hands, not realizing how much you have scratched your skin as if to direct your pain elsewhere. 

“I just…” Irises tremble. “… feel fucking horrible.”

Your head jolts up towards Nastasya. “Does that make sense? I-I feel disappointed that he ran away so far instead of coming to help me but… but it’s not really something I did not expect. I know he won’t come but somehow… I still hoped.” Your voice is too shaky and it is only a matter of seconds that your whimper will slip. “And now I lost… a lot. My childhood, my mother, my job, my hope, my life…”

Nastasya stares blankly at the table before she presses the cigarette onto the ashtray. “I felt the same way too,” She says. “When my mother died, I felt exactly what you feel. She killed herself too, remember?” Her voice is quiet and solemn. “I felt horrible and sad and disappointed too when I lost her. Although I should’ve been the happiest girl in town because she was a massive bitch. You’re making sense, girl. Your head is making sense of your heart.” She leans forward a bit, reaching just enough to wipe away your tears. “No shame in that. I’ve cried over a horrible person too.”

You are already crying again, sniffing and weeping. “Then… why am I grieving? Why did you grieve?”

“I didn't grieve for my mother. You don't grieve for your father. You grieve for the little daughter who lost it all.”

— ♡

“Alright, so where do you want to begin?”

Nikolai glares at Viktor as the man chugs on his soda. Both of them are just sitting on the staircase at the back door of the apartment building. Nobody really walks through here and there are two vending machines nearby.

“What do you mean?” Nikolai replies, grumpy.

“Our talk! Do you think I’m here to hoo-haa with you?” Viktor huffs. Nikolai sighs before he flicks open his can of soda and drinks it.

“I apologise,” Nikolai says. “I said bad things to you and caused you to complain to two different women.” 

“Mm-hm, apology accepted. That sarcasm at the end is not accepted though.” Viktor replies before he puts down his soda and bites a cigarette before lighting it up. “You know what will happen now, right?”

“Yeah…” Nikolai mumbles. “I’m pretty sure the loan sharks are on their way here now. They know where we are based.” He says before his eyes watch a flock of ravens in the sky, some landing on the electrical pole, some on the snowy ground.

“I haven’t replied to them, you know? The middleman already asked for her but I said nothing… yet.” Viktor says as he smokes. “Just feel bad for the girl. She just lost her only family and now she’s gonna get taken away. Just wanna give her some time to mourn for her daddy.” He continues. 

“I think she hates me already,” Nikolai sighs as he brings his knees closer to his body, hands frustratingly clasping his own head. “Fuck.” 

“Well, why does it matter to you?” Viktor snorts. “You don’t care about her, right? I thought you wanted her to leave you.” 

Nikolai glances at his friend. “Shut up.”

“No, let’s talk about this, Kolyushka.” Viktor scowls as he turns his head to Nikolai. He frowns, displeased. “Frankly, I don’t understand whatever you say about free will and stuff. But I sure think I am free as fucking pigeon right now. I have a stable job, I have a place to live, I can get discounted food, I went to therapy, I have my girl Nastyushka—I think my life is so content right now. And I have never felt freer.” 

“You know why? Because I am happy, Nikolai. I do not deny happiness and joy because of an absurd idea. Sure, I can appreciate your ideal philosophically but you are dwelling in depression and misery. Dare I say, you are purposely caging yourself.” 

Nikolai bites his lips. “Happiness is still—”

“I’m talking, sir.” Viktor flicks his fingers, cutting him off. “Yeah, yeah, happiness is brainwashing or control or whatever. But so is sadness, is it not? So is guilt. So is despair. So is vengeance. So is hope.” He pauses. “Just let yourself be human once. Your pursuit is nothing but unjust and tragic. That road leads you to either death or a loop.”

“I may not understand how exactly you want to be truly free, if we push out suicide from the equation. I may not even understand you fully as a friend. But I still care, you know? I’ve known you for more than ten years.”  Viktor stops, taking a long drag of his cigarette. “So, spill it. Don’t hide things from me. I am smart too. In a way. I guess.”

Nikolai stares blankly at the ground. He rubs his face, groaning into his palm. “I know she likes me. In… that way.” He halts before he looks away as he feels heat creeping all over his nerves. “It was weird. It’s not like I haven’t been with anyone in that way. But…” 

He bites his tongue, holding back. “You’re probably right…” His head nods mindlessly. “Maybe I do have feelings for… Uhm…” Nikolai purses his lips tightly. He does not want to say it. He still hopes that this lingering feeling is just a harsh breeze passing by—but that breeze will only send chills all over his body. 

“At first she was so goddamn annoying and clingy. But I don’t know… Maybe her naivete and the way she looks at me are making me feel weird, sorta. She’s kind, I give her that. Too kind, maybe. And sometimes… uhm, she does things that I like…” Nikolai cringes, scratching his head in restlessness. “Damn it, it’s just one month and a little bit more. And… Fuck. I have known you for more than one whole decade and I never get the feeling to sleep with you or anything but when it’s her, I’m like—”

“Hold on now!” Viktor sits straight but his body is bouncing in excitement. He tries to speak but his mouth only spurts incoherences, akin to a football fan who experienced victory. He grabs Nikolai’s arm, shaking it. “Bro, that sounds like… You want to… hehehe…”

Nikolai blushes again—the shades on his cheeks turn deeper red—before he buries his face into his arm. He groans but says nothing. Viktor only cackles, patting his back. “You know what, I don’t even blame you. Humans have desires. It just happened that your desires point in the same direction.” 

“Right… But listen, I don’t intend to do anything about this… feeling I have. I still want to go to Peters… and do what’s important…” Nikolai says. “My feelings are just temporary. And… it is not like me to embrace it. If I do, I’ll just betray myself.”

Viktor only scoffs. “Yeah, right.”

They sit in silence for a couple moments again, until both of their sodas are finished.

“Hey, what do the loan sharks want to do with her?” Nikolai asks. Viktor shrugs his shoulders.

“So, like we said before, she’s most likely going to get trafficked. Loan sharks won’t kill their debtors but they’re criminals just like we are. They’re going to do worse.” He replies. “My best guess is she’s most likely going to be forced to become a prostitute, or at least something like that. They probably will get her to work until she can fully repay the debt.”

“Is that why Nastasya doesn’t like it?”

Viktor’s shadow of a smile drops instantly. He is overcasted with dull ashes. “Yeah. I know she hates it.”

“I know I’ve told you how we met but it was never in detail, right?” Viktor takes a long drag of his cigarette. “When I went to the club, she was literally the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen. It felt like I just saw an angel who got displaced in Hell. I didn’t even want to sleep with her, you know? I wanted to get close to her but I didn’t know how so I paid for her ‘services’.” He chuckles briefly. “She just sat there on the bed and I wanted to kinda introduce myself. I wanted to show what I am, so I taught her how to do Python.”

“Cringe,” Nikolai says.

“I just wanted her to see that I’m a smart boy, alright?! And shush, I’m being nostalgic.” Viktor pushes his index finger on Nikolai’s lips, only for the latter to move his head away. “Well, I kept doing that for nights. Just went there to spend time with her. I was kinda broke at the time so I can only spend an hour or two.” He sighs.

“Then, she told me about herself. I was like ‘Yes, fucking finally!’ because it took a while for her to open up to me.” Viktor once again cackles to himself. “Won’t really tell you much but she was basically forced to live that way. I felt so fucking angry. Every time she told me about what she had to deal with in that club, I thought to myself, ‘What should I do? What should I do with her?’”

“So I took the risk. I made a lot of ‘dangerous’ arrangements. A car, some fake but valid-looking documents, a safe place for her to live, a therapist to heal… Just things that will keep her away from harm, you know? Then I asked her if she wanted to leave. She did come with me and the rest is history.” Viktor ends his narration with a pleased smile. “And I think I am the luckiest man alive.”

Nikolai does not say anything. On one hand, he wonders why exactly Viktor told him that. On the other hand, he finds himself resonating with a tiny part of his tale. That same question Viktor asked himself also has been popping up in Nikolai’s mind again and again—What should I do? What should I do with you?

He has been thinking of any possibly perfect solution for this conundrum since three days ago. You really do not have any reason to stay with him any longer. Your father died and the responsibility has unfairly dawned on you now. He does not know if the police are still searching for you but most likely they still are. You are a target of many.

Staying with you is just going to be damaging for him. He already left prison. He does not want to be under surveillance again because of his defiance to conform to the law and society standards. And though he is fairly certain he can defend himself against a crime syndicate group, he prefers to be lowkey and not be hunted. Anyone who is closely related to you will be in danger. It is the same cycle as how you are now in one because you are your father’s little girl.

“I think I need more time to think about this… about her…” He says to Viktor.

“You really just have two choices, Kolyushka. You want her gone, you let the loan sharks come. You want her to stay, well… maybe I can help a bit. Free of charge. Not like I haven’t done it.” Viktor smiles but Nikolai finds that his last remark is a little too suspicious—while also, undeniably quite appealing on a minuscule scale.

He decides to ignore that for now.

“Ah, right. I’m not here to just school you like a daddy would to his son. Come to send you special things, personally.” Viktor says before he finally reaches a suitcase he has been carrying all this time. Nikolai’s eyes perk up, interested.

Viktor places the suitcase on his lap before unlocking it. Inside, there is a stack of papers, some laminated, some not. “What are those?”

“What are those? What is your brain doing? Thinking about the girl? Look closer!” Viktor shoves the suitcase towards him. Nikolai grumbles at his rude remark but accepts the suitcase anyway, placing it on his lap. He takes one of the papers. 

“This is… legal documents,” Nikolai murmurs.

“Yeah, for your fake identity in Peters. Oh, and there is also a fake passport and an ID card, right at the bottom of these papers.” Viktor says. “I don’t know if you wanted a fake driver’s license too because you will sell your current car, right? But I made one anyway.”

After a while of not smiling, Nikolai finally cracks one, looking at the documents, pleased. “Good… I can proceed now.” He says, mostly to himself. He looks up at Viktor. “Thank you for this.”

“No problem. But I’ll charge you extra.”

Nikolai frowns. “Now, now… I don’t remember our deal about this stuff requires that.”

“Yeah, me too. But I will charge you extra.” Viktor smirks ever so slightly. “For another deal in advance.”

— ♡

“They’re taking a while…” You murmur as you have been staring at the door, waiting for Viktor and Nikolai to return from their secret meeting. Nastasya turns her head to the door and only hums.

“I think it’s a good thing. Sometimes Nikolai needs a scolding.” She says before she leans to the couch, sighing. She grumbles slowly under her breath as she combs her hair with her fingers. “Ugh… the cold air is really messing up my hair.” She huffs.

“Is that possible?” You ask.

“Well, it is possible, since my hair feels weird. I usually let it dry naturally but it’s getting long, so I have to use a hair dryer.” She replies. “Ugh! Do you have a hairbrush I can borrow? And do not give me Nikolai’s brush. I don’t even understand how a dude has better hair than me. I bet he uses 3-in-1 head-to-toe body wash.” She whines.

“I do have a hairbrush. I got Nikolai to buy it for me several weeks ago… Wait a minute,” You get up from the couch and walk into the bedroom. You reach the drawer beside the bed, where you keep your personal belongings—most were bought by your kidnapper. The only thing that is truly yours is your baby blue purse and its contents.

You take a hairbrush from the drawer and a few more things before leaving the bedroom. You stand beside the couch, looking at distressed Nastasya. She opens her palm, waiting for you to place the hairbrush on it, but you just stare.

“Hm?” She looks at you, confused. 

“Can I braid your hair?”

“W-What?”

“Um, you look a little bothered about your hair… I think it would be nice to tie it… or braid it… It’s totally okay if you don’t want to, though…” You give her a soft smile. “I think you’d look cute with a braid.”

“Cute? You little…” Nastasya’s eyes are gawking at you, perplexed. And you are just waiting for her answer, patiently standing there with a hair brush and a small pouch of hair ties. Your eyes are gazing at her, sparkling chaste.

“F-Fine… Make it quick.”

You gasp cheerily, moving to sit beside her on the couch before she adjusts her position so her back is facing you. Your nimble fingers start to trace and feel each of her black strands. “I’ll brush your hair, okay? If I accidentally tug your hair… sorry!” You say cheekily. Nastasya just nods as her shoulder tenses.

With careful motion, you start to brush her hair gently. You can smell the scent of rose coming from her. Her hair is silky but quite dry, which is probably why she felt bothered earlier. There are also remnants of snowflakes on her hair, which you try your best to remove.

“You know, when I was a child, my mom used to do my hair before school.” You say. “I used to get a little jealous of other girls who have cute hair, so I want one too. Usually, she either does braids or some cute ponytails.” You tell her as you brush the other section of her hair.

Nastasya is silent for a moment before she replies to you. “You learnt to braid from her?” 

You shake your head, though she will not see it anyway. “Mm-mm. I tried to do it on her hair but her hair at the time wasn’t really suitable for a braid. And my attempts were always messy!” You giggle as you are reminiscing. “I always cross the wrong strands over and under the other. I want to try braiding my mom’s hair to perfection one day but… well… you know.”

“Mm-hm.”

“So as I grow up, I practice on myself. It is very tiring, right? Braiding your own hair.” You say and Nastasya hums in agreement once again.

“As you grow older, you’ll just settle with a ponytail.” She remarks. You laugh softly in response, nodding.

“Mayhaps,” You say. “So after I master the art of braiding myself, I wanna try it on other people too. But I don’t have a lot of friends, so I used to get ribbons—oh, I used to work in a stationary shop, by the way—and practice it that way.”

Nastasya scoffs. “Must be hard. Ribbons are different from hair. They're flat and thin, unlike a strand of hair.” She replies. You nod again.

“Yeah… that’s kinda the main problem… But I can try my best on you!” You grin as you part her hair into sections, enough to do double French braids. You lift your body a little, kneeling on the couch now.

“What colour of hair tie do you want?” You ask her.

“I don’t care.”

“Mmm, that’s a hard answer. I am not good at choosing things for people.” You hum as your fingers fiddle in the pouch. “Okay, got them. I’ll start braiding your hair now. If it hurts… Uhm, don’t get angry with me, please.”

“Fine, fine, whatever.”

You chuckle before you start braiding her hair carefully. Your forehead frowns sometimes as you are focused on finishing a braid on one side. The hardest part is the beginning as you have to carefully get a strand little by little and tug her scalp a bit. You can hear Nastasya’s deep exhale when you accidentally do it hard, but she does not complain or anything. To amend it, you will quickly pat her head as if it might soothe her.

You are halfway done after several minutes.

“Would you like to take a guess on what colour your hair ties are?” You strike a question. Nastasya seems to be snapped out of her thoughts as she tries to recall your abrupt query.

“What?”

“Your hair tie’s colour. Guess it.” You smile before you stick a mini butterfly clip on her braid.

“I feel like there is something else on me…”

“Yeah, some butterfly clips! It’s actually one of my favourite clips because my mom used to put them a lot on my hair and sometimes on herself too. She even bought a huge pack that has a hundred pieces! You’d look cute, I pinky promise.” You giggle. “Are you still guessing?”

“Huh? The hair tie? Uh… I don’t know. I… Hm… Black, I guess.”

“Bzz! Wrong. I chose white.” You say as your head tilts left and right in joy. Your fingers continue to tenderly and delicately crisscross her strands of hair, determined to finish the braids. You ramble on, “I chose white because I think it will give a little colour to your appearance. There is a logic here, listen, listen. You are always wearing black or dark-coloured stuff, so I think a little white here and there would give you more contrast, more gleam, as they say. You know, when I first saw you, I thought you were intimidating. I mean, your whole colour is bold and fierce. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong though! I… uh… well, speaking from a girl to another girl, I think white also suits you. I may be biased because I love achromatic colour but I think you’d look pretty in white too. Maybe you’ll like it if I stick it on you here and here and—”

You stop talking when you notice something. The braid is already done, mini butterflies are clipped on some parts and the white hair tie is securing the braid nicely. But Nastasya is quiet—no, she is burying her face in her palms, her shoulders shaking.

“N-Nastasya…?”

Oh God, was I too annoying?

You shrink in your spot, feeling small once again. You hear Nastasya’s long sigh and you swallow nervously. “Um, I can take them off if you don't like them…”

“No,” She says firmly. “No, I was just… thinking about something. I wasn’t mad at you or anything.” She adds before she takes a deep breath and turns her body towards you.

“Really?” You ask with a small timid voice. Before Nastasya could reply to you, the door opens from the outside. Both of you turn towards it as Viktor and Nikolai step in—one is jovial and another is sombre. 

“Nastyushka, my lady! Ah—”

Viktor’s jaw hangs low as he sees Nastasya. He then gasps dramatically, rushing towards her. “Oh my, look at you! You’re so… Ugh! You’re so fucking cute!” He squeals as he carefully touches her braided hair. 

Your timidity dissipates, changing to a smile towards Nastasya, as if you are saying ‘See?’

“Did you do this?” Viktor asks you and you nod shyly. He grins, reaching out to pat your hair. “Aw, you cheeky girl. You did so great. I love it.” He says. You only keep smiling sheepishly. As Viktor keeps pampering his lover with never-ending praises, your eyes trail to the quiet man in the room. 

Nikolai is just staring at you. Once your eyes are fixated on him, he pulls away his gaze. He even pulls himself out of the living room as he retreats to the bedroom, closing the door. 

“Well, I guess it’s your turn to talk to him now,” Viktor says. You look at him, slightly confused. 

“What do I talk to him about?”

“Oh, those questions will come up later. But I’ve done my best to discipline the fuck out of him.” Viktor grins at you. “Don’t be too angry with him, okay? That dude has a multitude of issues. You just have to be patient, sometimes. Oftentimes. Every time.”

Your eyes lower down to the floor. “I’m not angry… Not anymore, really…” You murmur. Truthfully, you were hurt at the fact that Nikolai did reveal your father’s location. You wanted to blame him—but you could not, really. The morning after his drunk night is still fresh in your mind. 

“Freedom, little dove. I’m talking about free will. The power to make a choice for yourself, without influences from all over.”

“Must you cry? Were those little unimportant joys you felt no better than agony?”

In a way, you can understand his desperation to be relieved of emotions and burdens—you want to create a justification for his action, but unless he says it himself, you cannot even fully convince yourself. 

Viktor and Nastasya leave the house shortly after. You are left with your thoughts and the man in the room. You know you cannot just stay silent and wish the universe to fix everything for you—talking to Nikolai and figuring things out is better than being quiet. You have been quiet for long enough. 

Your talk with Nastasya did go well—if you said so yourself. It was relieving to have someone who could mirror your conflicted feelings over your father’s death. You may not know the full extent of horrific things Nastasya had gone through, but her words alone were enough for you to pick up your puzzles and piece them together. 

You get up. Your fingers are cold and you feel your nervousness rise once you approach the bedroom. Taking a few deep breaths to support yourself, you knock. 

— ♡

At this point, knocking has become Nikolai’s worst nightmare. 

He is lying on the bed, as still as a corpse, crafting possible answers he could muster if you ever drop a hard question. He thinks he does not get enough time and he feels his heartbeat rate is increasing to the max—it is as if his heart is struggling to leap out his chest. 

Ah, I’m not ready. She’ll ask me. She won’t ask me about her daddy. She’ll ask me things. Other things. 

He wants to shout—Go away! Leave me and torment me no more!—But even the thought of raising his voice towards you is already dimming the courageous fire that is barely lit. Instead, his fire shivers, smaller and smaller into cowardice as he watches the door creak open. 

You peek inside, looking at him curiously. Nikolai only returns your gaze, still unmoving from the bed. “Can I come in?” You ask and he hums in an approving tone. A tiny smile tints on your face as you step in. You walk to the bed and Nikolai does not know what he expects you to do but definitely, he does not expect you to get on the bed as well, lounging beside him. 

He thought his bravery would last long but your curious and blinking eyes—adorable—are too distracting. Irises emitting pristine, just enough to push his bravado back to the corner of his inner self. At that point, he just wants to kneel and say sorry again, for whatever he has done to you wrong. 

“Kolya, are you okay?”

“You should ask yourself that…”

“I am okay now…” You give him a small smile. “I already ate too.” 

Nikolai nods awkwardly. “Mm… that’s good…” He says. His eyes are trying their best to look elsewhere—just anywhere, except you. But when his vision is fixed on the crippled ceiling, he finds himself diverting his sight towards you instinctively, seeking something nice to see, something nice to probably hold. 

You two are basking in silence—though, Nikolai does not find it uncomfortable. Perhaps the slightest as he is pondering over the questions you will ask him. But the more he glances at you, the more he sees that you are actually waiting for him to speak.

“What were you talking about with Nastasya?” He asks. You turn to him with a smile on your face.

“She was… kinda helping me to process my feelings.” You say. “It was confusing and I felt lost. Maybe God sent her to me to get my head straight again.”

“Or maybe it’s the other way around.” He replies nonchalantly, his eyes are still fixated on the ceiling.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing.”

Sensing that you may not get a clear answer from him, you look away. But Nikolai finally breaks away his stare from the crippling ceiling, mismatched irises attending to your features. “You could’ve just spoken to me, you know?”

“I wanted to… it’s just I didn’t know where to start.” You reply before you sigh and adjust your body. Slowly, you lower yourself to the spot next to him, lying right beside him as your hand cradles his arm.

Nikolai tenses. The familiar heat travels all over his nerves. His sensitivity peaks and he thinks he can perceive anything—everything. His nose is catching the hinting scent of your hair, his ears are begging more of your sweet plea and his eyes cannot break away. 

“I felt all sorts of things and they’re like roaming everywhere in my mind. I admit that… I kinda felt angry at you for a moment when you told me you’re the one who revealed my father’s location…” He feels the grip of your hand on his arm tightens. “Felt angry and disappointed for a moment. But then, I remembered what we had talked about before… About your freedom, your emotions and—” You sigh, leaning your forehead on his shoulder. “I want to trust you… I think your action was driven by a desperation to be free. So…”

“Enough,” Nikolai says. “Maybe you’re right, maybe not. I don’t even know anymore. But I am…” He pauses, biting his tongue before looking away. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t blame you. Don’t blame yourself, please.”

“Your kindness will not get you far, sweetheart.” He murmurs under his breath, but it slips past your ears.

“What did you talk to Viktor about?”

“Huh?”

You grin at him and Nikolai almost scrunches his nose by how you look.

Cute…—he thinks.

“Alright, I get it. It’s only fair. You told me about your stuff with Nastasya and I shall tell you about Viktor.” Nikolai says. “We were just talking about… um, my stuff. He came here to send me fake documents for my new identity… It’s just some of my Petersburg stuff.”

“Oh…” You shift your head up at him. The proximity between you and him is extremely close right now—really, it is just the two of you lying down on the bed, he is as still as a log and you are as clingy as ivy. “Can’t you just go as you are now?”

“No, sweetheart. I was a convict and my name is still tied to a certain record that listed dangerous ability users. If I want to move around the globe freely, I have to assume the coat of another man.” He explains as he sighs. “Tedious, but it is what it is.”

“There’s a record of that?” You ask and he just nods. “Is that a bad thing or a good thing?”

Nikolai scoffs. “I’d say it’s a good thing for me. It’s a boost of ego, I take it.” He smiles at you and you also beam, enjoying the rare sight of his little ‘insignificant’ joy. “But some people think it’s a bad thing. If the government knows you have the potential to be a threat to the nation, you’ll be treated less than a stray dog. There’s a reason why a lot of people like me went into hiding after The Great War.”

“The Great War… I feel like I’ve heard about it in school…” You mumble, forehead creases as you try to recall bits of memories of your school days. “Were you… uh, participated in it? Involved? Affected?”

“I was twelve when the war ended.” 

“Where was the war again?”

“Not here.”

“Why are you being secretive?” You pout. Nikolai only gives you a sly smile but says nothing further. Unsatisfied that you may not be able to have answers, you let out a loud huff. “You and your secrets…”

“I’ll tell you when the time is right,” Nikolai says. 

“So, when?”

“Not now,” He replies shortly. “I will keep secrets about that side of things, but I won’t if you ask me the questions you have been wondering all this time. I will speak truthfully, starting from this second.” 

“Promise?”

“Yes, promise. I’ll be honest with stuff.” Nikolai says. He will be honest, but that does not mean he cannot omit important parts. It is not a lie if it is not told. 

He could not see your face from this position, as you are almost tucked comfortably at his side. But you soon lift your body a little and roll to lay on your stomach, facing him. His hand instinctively raises, hovering over your face, longingly, for a second before his fingers twitch—sending back his common sense into him. 

“What will happen to me?” You finally ask the big question. “The loan sharks are coming for me now, right…? There’s no way they will let my father’s debt dissipate like that…”

“… They’re indeed coming for you. They did ask Viktor about you. But he hasn’t replied to them yet.” Nikolai replies, his voice soft, just like his gaze on you. 

“Why?”

“Sympathy, guilt,” Nikolai says. “He has moral codes, you know? Not entirely heartless, that guy.” 

Your eyes waver to his hand that is hanging in the air, lost. “And then? It’s not like they will just… let me go, right?” You murmur. “I’m gonna be taken by force…” Nikolai purses his lips, biting his lower one when he sees you become tense and shiver—your eyes are getting slightly redder as seconds pass. 

Nikolai surrenders. 

His hanging hand caresses your cheek, his thumb rubbing the skin of your face. He can hear his heartbeat thump louder and louder when you nuzzle into his palm—like a cat seeking warmth. Nikolai can feel the blush creeping in all over his body again when you hold his hand to keep it on you—silently begging him to stay. 

For a second, Nikolai wonders who really is the captive and the captor here—because he sure knows that your glimmering irises, despite the tears, are capturing his attention right now. 

“I’m scared… I’m so scared…” You whimper weakly. “I don’t have anyone else, Nikolai… I only have you.”

“I know.”

You look at him, with a certain hope. Your fingers slide down carefully, tightening around his wrist. “Can I—”

“No,” He cuts you off immediately. “You won’t come with me to Petersburg. No one. Not even you.”

“But it’s not safe for me here—”

“I said no,” His tone hardens. “Listen. I don’t even plan to bring anyone to Petersburg. Every preparation I have done is only for me alone. So, no… I won’t bring you. I cannot.” He says. “But I’m not dumb enough to not be able to see that both Viktor and Nastasya really do not want the loan sharks to get to you. They will go to a great degree to get their money back and satisfy their hatred towards your dad. Horrible things will happen to a young girl like you, that is for sure. And neither of us will be safe for each other.”

“That’s not true,” You retort back. “I feel the safest with you…”

“Right now, maybe yes. But not in St. Petersburg. Not when Fyodor is around.” 

“Why, is he that dangerous?”

“Very much, yes.”

Nikolai can see your mood drop instantly. His thumb slides down to the corner of your lips and lifts it up. His gesture is enough for your solemn to turn into an adorable pout at his half-assed attempt to break a smile out of you. 

“Then… what will you do with me? Where will I go? To whom I should turn to?”

Nikolai stares at you for a few seconds. He knows asking himself to choose between letting you go or actually helping you only leads him to the second choice. He tried to delight himself with the possibility of you being gone, but his mind ended up to the worst-case scenario that might happen to you—and then delight is no more, only dismay. 

“Have your heart and head ever pointed in the same direction?”

He tries to remember what direction they were pointing at when you asked that question that day. His eyes glance at you, seeking his answer back then. Both of his mismatched eyes land precisely on your lips. 

Ah right… I wanted to kiss you. 

Nikolai sighs internally. He feels dumb. 

“Nikolai?” You call him as your hand caresses his hand as if it is a source of comfort for you. 

“Yeah, wait. I’m thinking.”

“Okay… You’re quite a thinker.”

“The hell is that supposed to mean?”

You only chuckle briefly but your smile does not last long—your sun is too shaded. He understands why—you were and are dealing with a lot of things at once. Girls your age should be in college, arguing in a group project and studying for a surprise mock exam—not lounging on the same bed as their kidnapper, holding his hand and pouring naive affection. 

Nikolai sighs again—internally, of course. He does not want you to think badly about him—well, not that it matters… right? Not that he cares. Not that he likes you or anything. Not that his affection has grown a tad too big that he dreams of your lips sometimes. Not that his desire boils itself too high when sometimes he hopes the night he lays his head on your chest repeats again. Not that his yearning is tickled over and over when he recalls the moment you hug and cry against him.

“I’ll find a way. To help.” He finally says. The longer he ponders over his choices, the clearer his answer is. The first choice only brings havoc between his head and heart, but the other is agreed upon immediately. His feelings are not in shambles if he keeps thinking about his second choice. Matter of fact, he feels good. 

Extremely good. 

He feels disappointed though—this decision is not made by his own free will, is it? His empathy, guilt and feelings towards you lead him to this point. He is being led by something else—a force he wants to break free from. 

But those emotions are a part of him. He cannot just escape from himself. He cannot steal him from himself. If he does—then death will offer its hand to him. 

“You’ll help me?” You ask. Then, you scoot closer, offering a pinky finger. “Really? Promise? Honest?” 

Nikolai scoffs. He pulls his hand away from your face only to link his pinky with yours. “There. Promise. Satisfied now? Are we on good terms now?”

You giggle and it brings Nikolai’s deep chuckle out too—he does not really understand why but your sweet adorable giggle certainly has a charming melody in it, chanting radiance to anyone, including him apparently. 

Ah, he lied. He knows exactly why he acted so. 

“I have another question. Will you answer it honestly? No lying, no hiding?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you want, little dove.” He replies nonchalantly before he retracts his finger from you. You tilt your head, looking at him expectantly. 

“Why do you help me?”

Nikolai’s lips part slightly, stopping himself from blurting out the words out of his heart. He looks uncertain and the only thing he does as a response is shake his head. 

It is not a lie if it is not told. 

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Chuu/Lai

Chuuya / Nikolai Stitch-Up

To match FyoZai from last time, here's ChuuLai.

I wrote some notes on him.

He'd be a fucking woozy I know that much.

Give me headcanons, folks.

-Nix🌙

drew this as soon as I saw him in this outfit

...i have no excuses anymore

🍴

Dtiys i did on twt

OMG

it’s Shadow Milk Gogol 💦

Adami Adashino 🎀