Yumesanosuke - Kolya's Slut

𝐖𝐎𝐍’𝐓 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐄 !

𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 @/𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘬𝘰𝘭𝘺𝘢 ’𝘴 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘳 𝘈𝘜 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘕𝘪𝘬𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘪 !! 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺’𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘻𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳 <3 

@doukeshi-kun

cw : no smut just yet , MDNI still , slight implications of future dark content , reader is an adult in early 20s while nikolai is older , fem reader

A young rising star actress, gaining more and more popularity within each film you star in.

That was you.

And unfortunately for you, you had a very big director with his eyes glued to every move you make. Nikolai Gogol was a very prominent actor and director, he’s been in the business for a long time and he’s good at it. Almost too good.

There’s a lot of mysteries, rumors, more surrounding the man in general despite him being there for so long. Not much is known about his personal life or how he started to rise up. Most of the public just knew that he started off as a child actor.

There’s almost an aura of weariness that people get around him, but his charismatic and mischievous nature keeps pulling them back in for more despite their gut. When he walks, the people shifts and the mood becomes a tide dependent on him due to the air he brings. He knows how to perform and then perform, even when he’s not on the job.

It was only natural that he gained interest in a new star, he was a director after all. That was what most people told you. But there was just something off about him to you, though you never had an actual full conversation with the man besides…

-

“Haha, isn’t it my lucky day! An amazing actress with more amazing work, lovely meeting you.” The man stood before you, giving a small grin before shaking your hand. You’d smile back at him, shaking his hand too.

“Pleasure to meet you Gogol.” You said, your voice firm but sounding polite and friendly. He was a very attractive man, that you couldn’t deny. He was tall, he had pale skin, and pretty white, fluffy hair that was tied in its usual braid. His eyes were something that were easy to get lost into, a green that’s rich like emerald and a shade of a blue that paints the sky. 

Not to mention, the scar that sits on top with a nicely put together outfit. The red tint of his lips made a nice contrast and you couldn’t help but feel a slight dread to hear him speak again for some reason.

“Oh please dear, do call me Nikolai. No need for last names.” He reassures, the smile on his face grew wider, letting out a small chuckle. You felt your chest tighten. Did everyone feel so off when talking to him? 

“Director!”

“Ah, I have to get going. I’ll see you around yeah darl?”

“Of course.”

-

And that was the last you’ve talked to him. It was a while ago, back at an event for god knows what. You’d been to too many for your liking. You still remember the moments where he was glancing at you ever so subtly. 

But now your team came to you with an opportunity, an opportunity to act with him.

-

“It’s a really good chance for you to really get out there. Gogol is one of the best, he’s directing and acting and! He’ll be a great guidance.” Your manager told you, you nodded your head but pursed your lips into a thin line in thought. 

“I don’t know…” You sighed, bouncing your knee while you sat. 

“You’re already gaining a lot of popularity, a boost wouldn’t hurt. You’ve got great skills and a good mindset. You mind if I ask why you’re hesitating?” 

‘Because he’s off! There’s something off about him!’

“Guess I’m just… a little intimidated is all. Don’t get me wrong, I know this is pretty rare for newbies to get invited into such a huge project by someone like him. But I just—”

“He’s been one of your supporters since the start, it’s a good thing he’s interested in you. I get it, it might be overwhelming but that’s just how the industry is. —With that being said, it’s still ultimately your choice.”

You bit your inner cheek. It would be rude to decline an offer from a big shot like him, especially when he’s been supporting your work you figured. And it doesn’t hurt to be curious about him too, only way to figure out more about him is…

“Let him know I accept then.”

‘We’ll see how this goes.’

-

The past few days working with Nikolai, your co-stars, and staff have all went well so far. Your manager was right, so far at least. You were still somewhat skeptical. He was great at guiding people in the right direction. Not only was he easy to talk to but he was friendly, very friendly. 

Almost a little too friendly to you, but you shrugged it off. It must because you’re still somewhat new to the acting scene. You still weren’t sure how to feel.

“Hey darl, how’s my favorite star holding up?” Nikolai’s cheery voice snapped you out of your thoughts, his hand placed on the low of your back. You didn’t think much of it and you smiled at him politely.

“A bit tired but nothing I can’t handle. I’m excited to run upcoming scenes.” You told him, eating a strawberry that they had out on the food table for lunch. You managed to grab a few before they ran out. Your manager always told you it wasn’t good to act with completely empty stomach. He let out a small chuckled, nodding his head.

“Yes, yes! I’m glad you’re having fun dear.” He grinned, but then his eyes trailed to your lips. “Are the strawberries sweet?” He asked, keeping the cheerful expression on his face.

“Yeah, they’re sweeter than I expected. I really like these.” You responded genuinely, grabbing another one. 

“Let me have a taste.” He said, leaning down and eating the strawberry from your hand to his mouth. You were surprised, not expecting him to do something like that so casually. 

‘He smells sweet.’

‘….And his hands are really nice.’

You looked at him still with a surprised expression, letting out a small laugh when you saw his focused face on tasting the the strawberry. You were aware he was probably doing this to make you feel more comfortable and light hearted. At least that’s what you thought to make of his actions.

‘Wait, did I just say he smells sweet? In my head?’

“Yes—”

“Huh?” You cut him off, snapping out of your head. Worried that you had said your thoughts out loud, you turn your face to his more directly. He raises a brow at you, an amused look on his face.

“I was about to say, yes you are right. They are pretty sweet but it looks like you have something on your mind honey.” He tells you, nothing ever goes unnoticed by him.

“O-Oh! It’s nothing, sorry I was just thinking about something random.” You try to explain, there’s no way you’re going to explain what you thought about him to him. That was weird. He’s weird… okay but maybe you’re weird too for thinking that of him-

“You always look so tense around me darling, you always have something on your mind don’t you?” He chuckles. “Dim your worried thoughts pretty thing. I’m not gonna bite you.” 

…Okay yeah he is weird.

But for some reason, your cheeks feel like they were growing warmer. 

“Unless you want me too.”

You didn’t quite catch what he said that moment, so now it was your turn to look at him a little amused snd confused. 

“What was that?”

“Oh nothing nothing dear!” He rubs the inner of your wrist quickly with his thumb, standing back up straight and patting you on the back. He let out a small light hearted laugh. “Oh you’re so cute. Relax okay? This is your first time working with a huge director isn’t it? —Ah maybe that sounds too arrogant of me. I’m just rather familiar with the position is all.” 

“Y-Yeah it is, you know just wanna do my best.” You stammer a bit, nodding your head in agreement.

“You’re already doing so good for me sweetheart, you’re gonna be just fine.” He reassures you, he was a little too good at eye contact. “Actually, you know what? Say, are you free after the shoot?”

You blink.

Where did this come from? What did he plan to do? Why was he asking? You had to come up with an answer. Quick. There wasn’t any time to think-

“Uh, you know I think I am? I don’t usually have anything planned after shoots.”

‘Fuck. What was that?’ 

You internally started cursing at yourself. You initially planned to deny, a thing your gut was screaming at you to do. But you couldn’t think right when he looked at you. It almost seemed sly in the way he smirked.

“How about this? After this shoot is done, go home and get dressed. Come over to my place for dinner yeah darl? I’ll give you some advice, I would just tell you now but we have to run the next scene in about 30? And I don’t wanna stay at the studio much longer after. What do you say?” He asks, tilting his head ever so slightly.

‘There’s no backing out now..’

“Sure, that sounds good to me.” You gave him a sheepish smile. A grin was too swift to grow on his face before relaxing into a casual smile. He reached for his phone, it was different from the usual phone he uses. It must’ve been a personal phone. You figured you should grab your own too.

“Here you go.” He says, handing you his phone and swapping with you. You both take a few moments to put in your numbers and for some reason, you feel as if you’ve greatly messed up. You both swapped the phones back. “There’s my number, give me a call before you’re on your way dear.”

“Okay, I will. Thank you.” You told him, now somewhat nervous to look up at him again.

“Gogol! Makeup touch ups!” A staff called out for him, your makeup artist was also probably looking for you.

“I’ll be seeing you later.” He winks at you, walking away. You let out a small laugh, nervous. You finished the strawberry off quickly, tossing it into the trash before walking off to find your makeup artist.

This is too weird.

dividers : @/cafekitsune

TRASH SUGAR MAGIC

➛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 3: ʙᴀꜱᴋ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡɪʟʟᴏᴡ

➛ nikolai gogol x fem!reader

➛ cw: explicit content, dark content, very suggestive, manhandling, mild fluff, mean!nikolai | words: 6.6k

➛ ao3 | spotify | main menu

“Get out, get out.”

Nikolai pulls you out of the car, still keeping his grip on your arm. He tugs you closer to him as he leads both of you to a diner located just not too far from his apartment building. The diner is lacking people, only a good handful of customers. He chooses the table at the corner, isolated from the rest.

“Sit here.” He says, shoving you to sit at the inside part, so you are sandwiched between the wall and him because he decides to sit beside you instead of across you. Since the diner is toasty warm, thanks to their heater, Nikolai unzips his jacket, taking it off. He drapes it on the chair before he sits beside you. You are about to take off your coat as well, but you remember you just have your loose baby blue dress on. It feels a little inappropriate since a lot of your skin is exposed. So you keep your hands to yourself.

A waitress comes to your table, giving menus. She seems to be middle-aged, with her grey hair sticking out. She wears a bun and a red and white polka dot apron. The waitress smiles at Nikolai, waiting patiently. But he spares no time to choose as he immediately orders without even opening the menu books. “Uh, give us two iced tea and two sets of lamb—”

Your tight grip on his arm halts his word. Nikolai’s head turns quickly to you, and his eyes leer down to his arm—his tattoos are peeking out from his sleeve. Your fingers are wrapped around him, squeezing. You say nothing other than pointing at one dish on the menu. Nikolai looks at it and it is just an image of chicken and mushroom pie.

“You little...”

“Please, Nikolai?”

Nikolai stares at you in disbelief before he sighs and looks at the waitress. “Yeah, two iced teas, one lamb pelmeni, and... this.”

“Anything else?”

“Nope, thank you.” Nikolai gives back the menus to the server and she suddenly chuckles playfully. She collects the menus and looks at Nikolai with amusement.

“You finally got a girlfriend, Kolya? She looks young.” She asks. Nikolai just waves at her dismissively, shooing her away. You only watch their interaction, revelling the fact that Nikolai and the waitress know each other.

“Do you know her?” You ask out of curiosity. Nikolai is silent, seeming to ignore you for a moment as he reaches for his phone in his pocket. You wait for your answer as your eyes are carefully examining him. You tuck his arm again, shaking it lightly to get his attention. Nikolai sighs.

“Yes... I’m a regular here. Her name is Olga. She is a gossip collector.” Nikolai replies. “You are a touchy one, aren’t you? Or is this a habit from your workplace? Do you touch those old men like this too?” He asks with a small smirk, glancing at your fingers fidgeting on his arm. He just realises that your nails are polished with a baby blue shade. It must be one of your ‘uniform’ or ‘style’ for your job yesterday.

“You are old too.”

“The fuck? Hey, being in your thirties is not old.” Nikolai huffs. He takes out a box of cigarettes and bites one out, lighting it up with his lighter. He takes a long inhale of it before he blows it slowly to the opposite side, away from you.

How considerate. How sweet.

Nikolai notices your sudden quietness and he glances at you, seeing you are just staring at him—with the same gaze you have been giving since last night. You seem to be in your own thoughts as your irises are roaming over his figure—from his body, to his legs, to his arms, to his face, finally meeting his eyes.

“You know, it’s already weird that you are warming up to...” he lowers the volume of his voice. “... your kidnapper. But you are certainly looking at me so so bizarrely. There’s no fear in your eyes, even though I just forced you to be here. It is something... Hmm...” Nikolai suddenly holds your jaw, tilting your head to the left and right as he glares directly into your eyes. “I can’t put my finger on it.”

“Adoration?”

Oh, that’s the word. Yeah, yeah, that makes sense.

“Yes, yes. Adoration. Why do you look at me so adorably? Your cute fucking eyes... You are attempting the impossible if you want to riddle with someone like me. After all, tricks could only bring you so far if you want to play with me.” He says before he lets go of your face. You yelp a little, touching your face, especially on the spot he just grabbed.

“I’m not trying to trick you...”

“Uh-huh. And elephants can fly, tigers can bark—”

“Some tigers could bark....”

“So you did go to school!”

“I graduated high school a few years ago....”

Nikolai blows a wave of cigarette smoke right in front of your face, causing you to whimper, coughing as you try to fan your hand rapidly. He laughs, enjoying his torment and your reaction. “I don’t care whether or not you graduated. Clearly, you’re not intelligent enough to be all buddy-buddy with your kidnapper, idiot.”

“Hey, hey, Kolya! What are you bullying your girlfriend for?” Olga appears with a tray of food and drinks, serving them the ordered dish. Nikolai groans, irritated when she teases him.

“She’s not my girlfriend, Olga. Stop feeding your own delusions and get yourself a husband. Goodness, at your own age...” Olga gasps in disbelief and she hits Nikolai’s shoulder—not too hard, but not too light either.

“I’m just trying to be happy for you! Especially when you just disappear for years!” She exclaims loudly, receiving a curious look from another customer several feet away. Nikolai grumbles. Noticing his irritation, Olga chuckles. “Okay, okay, enjoy your meal.”

As she leaves, Nikolai gives you your meal, but your attention is still on her and then Nikolai. Olga does look much older, evident by her faint wrinkles. Nikolai presses the cigarette butt in the ashtray on the table before he starts eating. His expression is boring. It seems like he is already sick with the taste of this diner's lamb pelmeni.

“Stop looking around like a fool and eat your food. You said you're hungry.” Nikolai nudges your shoulder. You nod, giving him a smile that goes unseen. You pull the chicken and mushroom pie closer to you and reach a fork. It is a bit uncomfortable to eat because you are quite hot—you still have the puffer coat on and the diner is already warm and only getting warmer.

You are sweaty and you feel bad that you are basically dirtying his puffer coat—it must be difficult to wash too. You wonder if Nikolai even has a washing machine in his house. Furthermore, you did not even see one in the bathroom and you have yet to explore his kitchen.

It is fine—you have more time to spend with him.

You enjoy your meal, sometimes taking a peek at the man beside you. He is still fixated on his phone, browsing a site you could not manage to focus on. You lean closer—almost resting your head on his shoulder—trying to steal a view of the screen, and you see some images of trains.

“Oi,” Nikolai turns to you and you only smile at him cheekily.

“What's that on your screen?”

“Eat your food.” He taps your plate with his fork, dismissing your question. You do as he tells, taking another bite from the pie—it is probably one of the most delicious pies you have ever tasted. But you are still eager to talk to him.

“Why haven't you seen Ms. Olga for years? Aren't you from here?” You ask curiously. Nikolai blinks profusely at your question. He hesitates and you are patient. Nikolai wants to ignore you again, but your subtle shake on his arm halts him.

“I'm from Ukraine. It's just... I have lived here for years.” Nikolai says slowly. His adam's apple throbs and he looks away. “I got into prison, that's all. That's why she didn't see me for a while.”

“Oh! Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why were you in prison?”

Nikolai turns to you, glaring deeply into your eyes, seeking any sign of trickery. He sighs, drinking his iced tea awkwardly. He is constructing words in his head, filtering what should not be said to you. But he does not really want to tell you things about him—besides, you are practically a stranger.

“Got convicted because I murdered a girl in a baby blue dress who worked in a bar.” He attempts to tease with a threatening tone, to evade the whole topic at once. You squint confusedly before chuckling.

“Does that mean you will keep me alive? I mean, you don't want to go back to prison, right?”

Nikolai grunts—how the hell do you get to that conclusion, he does not even know. You seem to enjoy his reaction though, by the way you giggle. Annoyed, Nikolai seizes your jaw, pushing your cheeks together—puffing your lips. He turns your head so you would face your plate again.

“Please shut up.”

— ♡

After lunch, Nikolai, obviously, paid for the meal and once again, he drags you to another location—a hypermarket as he really needs some groceries. Nikolai wants to limit his appearance in public, and he wants to stay inside the house as much as possible. Besides, dining outside is much more expensive and he needs to save some money for his ultimate goal.

“You stay close. And don't make a scene.” He commands, stern and strict. You nod obediently and Nikolai steps into the hypermarket, followed by you. He reaches for a basket, holding it with his left hand while his right hand is resting in the pocket of his jacket.

Nikolai looks around the market, striding casually as he is making mental notes on what to buy for his house. He also needs to buy extra things for you during this short period of time you are staying with him. He has not properly counted the cash notes Viktor gave to him yet but it probably has been spent on the lunch earlier.

“Hm?” Nikolai feels something slither into the crook of his right arm and he looks to his side, seeing your hand is clutching his arm and you are scooting closely against him. He frowns—he does not mind a woman being this close to him but he literally just kidnapped you last night, no more than a complete day. And yet the glint in your eyes shows little to no defiance, even when he has been rough to you all day.

“You told me to stay close.”

Witty. I don't know if I like it.

“If you're trying to get into my pants as your grand plan to escape, I'd say rethink again.” He says nonchalantly. You jerk your head at him, flustered.

“N-No! No, I won't do such things...”

Nikolai cackles. “Yeah, sure, you won't. Bet you wanna try the same tactics you did to your customers in the bar, huh?” He scoffs and you immediately shake your head, tugging his arm harder.

“I have never done that. I don't have... tactics...”

Nikolai glances at you, eyebrow raised. He looks at your body up and down—and his stare feels piercing. Despite the puffer coat still covering your body, it feels like he is seeing through you.

“Okay... Okay, I get it.” He mumbles before he looks straight ahead and keeps walking. You hold strong onto his arm as you try to match his pace, turning to him.

“You get what? What do you mean?”

He continues to say nothing as he walks to the dry food section. You follow him closely, avoiding people who sometimes bump into you. You pout—Why don't they bump into Nikolai instead? Does he look too intimidating? Is he too noticeable with that white fluffy hair?

Nikolai stops in front of a shelf of canned foods. He takes some of them, after checking the expiration date of course. You also look around and you see a row of chicken and mushroom soup. You gasp happily, taking two of them and putting them into the basket.

“What the... I don't say you could take anything. I am the one spending my own shit.” Nikolai protests, taking back the cans and putting them on the shelf. You scrunch your nose, dissatisfied. But you make no move of trying to take the soup again.

However, when Nikolai is about to leave the section, you quickly snatch a can of chicken and mushroom soups and put it into the basket. He certainly hears the clanking noise of the cans in the basket as he looks at you and sighs.

“Just this one.” He says. You nod and link your hand to his arm again, following his steps. Nikolai tries to focus back on his task while also keeping you close to him. He knows he needs some more hygiene products, so he decides to go to that section. And for some reason, the section is crowded with people.

“Geez, is it World Cleaning Day or something? Why is everyone here?” He grumbles to himself, frowning when his basket keeps bumping with people. He tilts his body left and right, avoiding people to reach for a bottle of dish soap on the shelf. He manages to grab one—which is the cheapest option. He does not bother to spend his time choosing between brands or anything.

“Okay, done. Let's...”

His word trails off when he finally realises the lack of a human touch on his arm. Nikolai's face turns pale. He turns around, hoping you are just behind him, but instead, he just sees some random people choosing products. He turns to the left, to the right—and he cannot see you. He wishes he could detect you by your baby blue dress, but he remembers he has lent his puffer coat to you—the similar coat that seventy percent of the customers in this hypermarket wear.

Well, fuck.

— ♡

“Fucking hell, where the heck is she...” Nikolai is hasty. He has been scouring the food section and the hygiene section twice now. But he still has not found you. He is already tired of walking around this establishment like a fool. And he does not want to look obviously anxious. He is aware that he is already in the hypermarket's security camera footage by now.

Nikolai huffs, eyes scanning every person that comes into his view. But neither of them are you. He is about to give up and call Viktor to report his situation—but he then sees a staircase just beside a lift, hidden behind a big shelf of seasonings and spices. He approaches it, noticing a signboard that has an arrow pointing up with the phrase 'Clothes, House Appliances, Electronics'.

He does not think you could have ventured upstairs but he needs to take a chance—if you want to escape, wouldn't you just go straight to the exit? There is no exit on the second level, but you might have been hiding and waiting for him to leave or something before you make your move.

“This little...” Nikolai takes a deep breath, swallowing his anger and frustration before he steps onto the stairs, slowly making his way up. The second level is quieter. He could only see some customers and some workers, but all of them were far apart from each other.

That means he would either find you or confirm that you are not up here.

Nikolai gets tired of carrying his fuckass basket, so he puts it on one of the closed counters. The worker does not even bother giving him a glance or a warning—they are more busy calculating things from invoices.

He walks around, eyes sharp and precise as he scans the area. He checks the electronics and house appliances sections but his effort is futile. It lacks people and the shelves are quite far apart from each other. Nikolai thinks—he would not try to hide here at all since it is obvious.

He moves to the clothes sections. Sometimes the employees greet him, trying to promote their sales but he is not interested at all. Nikolai does however stop for a bit in the male outerwear section, skimming the jackets and coats on display.

“This one is on discount, sir.”

A staff member suddenly says to him, out of nowhere, flinching Nikolai. Nikolai finds his words stuck and he just smiles stiffly. “O-Oh, yeah, yeah. I'm just... looking around.” He says and he walks again in between the shelves of coats and jackets.

However, the staff could not stop following him, with her kind faux smile—Drop it, lady. I know you're tired of working in this shit.

He mentally curses the staff—he could not find you if the staff keeps following him. Nikolai walks away from the male clothes section and the staff finally leaves him—she perhaps works in that section only. He ventures his way to female clothes, eyeing the dresses and the blouses.

Nikolai is almost distracted—that is bad. He sighs at his carelessness, tapping his own head lightly as he looks around the female section. He feels awkward by the judging glances of some customers when he walks around the section—he does not blame them though.

He grumbles under his breath, still not seeing you.

But suddenly, his body is jerked forward slightly, by a strange weight bumping against his back. A pair of arms wrap around his body, hugging him close.

“Nikolai..! I thought I lost you!”

He freezes.

Nikolai turns around. His eyes are wide when he sees you. You look relieved but Nikolai is just too annoyed. He yanks your arms away from him and grips you by your neck—and fortunately, you two are covered by the racks of clothes.

“The fuck are you thinking? I told you to fucking stay close to me, didn't I? You stubborn brat.”

“I-I am sorry... I was trying to find you as well...”

“And you ended up stranded up here? Bullshit. You're trying to save your ass.”

“I swear..! I was trying to hold you but there were a lot of people and... and I accidentally let you go... and then you were gone!” You urgently explain yourself. Nikolai clicks his tongue and shakes his head. He lets go of your neck and looks around. Fortunately, no one is looking.

“Please, trust me... I never intend to leave you...” Your arms are itching to hug him again by how they crawl back on his body. Nikolai glances at you and exhales loudly. He takes your arm and pulls you along with him.

“We're leaving now. I'm so tired of dealing with you. Do something funny and I'll use my gun.” He threatens as he practically drags you to the closed counter to take back his basket. However, he sees that there are additional things added to his cart now.

Some dresses and underwear.

Nikolai scoffs in disbelief—more things to pay? Fuck no. He takes one of the panties—red—hanging it on his finger, smirking. “This yours?”

You shriek in embarrassment as you take the panties and put them back in the basket. “Don't...” You mumble. Nikolai snorts scornfully. “I-I... Uh... I saw the basket first before I saw you...” You say sheepishly.

“So you came up here to get new clothes? Oh, you spoiled little doll. You are smart enough to take advantage to get yourself new crap but not smart enough to escape when I'm not looking. Do you not even think about your freedom for once? People like you disgust me.” Nikolai scowls and he takes out the dresses and the underwear from the basket, putting them on the counter.

“W-Wait...! I need those—”

“You don't fucking need these overpriced dresses.”

“Please! Just... Just the underwear.” You grip his hand, stopping him. Nikolai looks at you and you cannot bear to face him as well. Your other hand clutches your coat as you look away, face flushed with embarrassment. “I really need them, please...”

But instead of sympathising, Nikolai bursts out a short laugh, mocking. “Oh yeah, you haven't showered since yesterday. What? Is your panties getting soaked or something now? Have I ever told you that that isn't my problem?”

“W-Why are you being mean?” You protest, lips pouty.

“Because you just pulled whatever stunt you did just now, shopping for shits you thought I'd gladly pay,” Nikolai replies harshly before he fully takes out your stuff. He takes the basket as if he is about to leave, but you are stubborn enough to block his path and firmly clutches his jacket.

“Just the underwear. Please, Nikolai... Please. I really need them. After that, I won't ask for anything else.” Your pretty lips are begging him as you lean closer to him while clutching his jacket. He stares at you—Nikolai could not deny it any longer and he is practically screaming into the void in his head right now. Your doe fucking eyes are his weakness—and he hates it. He hates you for being able to sway his heart, turning the heartbeat that is supposed to be synchronous into discordant.

He gets it now. He knows why you are working as an escort. If he was a manager, he would hire you right there and then.

Or perhaps you are just attracted. —His heart suggests.

“Nikolai?”

Your voice snaps him out of his short-term silence. That sweet voice, those pretty eyes, those adorable lips—Nikolai hates them.

“Fine.”

You giggle happily and Nikolai once again defeatedly sighs. He watches you putting back the underwear into the basket and when you are about to put in one of the dresses, he immediately grabs your wrist. “Not that.”

“Okay, okay.” You put away the dress and as you are done, Nikolai takes the basket and motions his head at you, silently telling you to stay close. You once again link your hand on his arm and both of you finally get downstairs to pay for the stuff.

As the cashier is scanning the items, Nikolai notices that there is another strange addition to his cart—a very small bottle of baby blue nail polish. He is about to lash out when he turns to you—only for you to quickly look away, pretend fool.

And so, Nikolai could only watch bitterly as the cashier put the nail polish into the plastic bag.

— ♡

“Hello, baby boy! How are you doing now? Gah... it's been eight hours since I left you and I'm already worried!”

“Viktor... stop talking like that.” Nikolai cringes as he peeks at the clock—indeed it has been eight hours since Viktor left and Nikolai is already fatigued by what happened today. It has just been one night since you were kidnapped and you have created so many plights. Right now, you are showering and coincidentally, Viktor calls him.

“Ugh, as cold as usual, but not that usual! I know you are still salty that you got arrested but that's like a year ago! What has passed is past! Or something like that. Anyway! Don't be sad anymore, yeah? I have a job for you now.” Viktor says before he quickly proceeds to explain the job to Nikolai. Nikolai only listens intently as his other hand is jotting notes.

“And... yeah, that's all. I'll look into important stuff and send it to you before tomorrow morning, as usual.”

“Alright. Thanks.” Nikolai says but before he ends the call, Viktor asks another question again. However, his voice is a whisper.

“Is the girl good?”

You. He's asking about you.

“She's a bit troublesome in a way... Please, just get the loan sharks to act quickly before I lose my sanity.” Nikolai complains, biting the pen as he remembers what happened today in the hypermarket. He would not tell that to Viktor.

“I contacted them just a few hours ago. No response. Probably there will be tomorrow. Just be patient.” Viktor replies. Then his voice drops a few octaves. “By the way, I also got news from the hacker you told me to find.”

“What does he say?”

“He agreed to help with the security camera thing. I don't know... But he does want to discuss further about it and I just give him your number. He's kinda sad that we aren't in St. Petersburg though because he's based there.”

“It's fine. I'll talk to him... Thanks for your help. I'll treat you something someday.” Nikolai replies with a satisfied smile. His progress is going well now.

“No problem, dude. But why do you want access to the security camera program in St. Petersburg? I thought you just wanted to move there for... I don't know, better life I guess.” Viktor asks casually. Nikolai purses his lips. He never tells Viktor about Fyodor but Viktor does know about Nikolai wanting to go to St. Petersburg, which is the sole reason he is always eager to do more dirty jobs.

“Long story, Vik.” Nikolai just says that.

“Well, you better spill me the tea! I want— Whoops, Nastasya is calling for me. Alright, I'll go now. Bye-bye!”

“Bye...”

Nikolai tosses his phone on the bed—he is in his bedroom now, sitting on the edge of the bed. As his attention is no longer on the phone, he is finally aware of a foreign weight on his bed, as if something is behind him. He turns around and he jumps slightly in surprise when he sees you kneeling on the mattress, with nothing but a towel wrapped around your naked body.

“What the hell! Why are you sneaking up on me like that? And why are you like this?” Nikolai scolds you, clutching his chest—and his heart is fast. So fast. And it is not even because you are sneaking up on him. It is mostly because of something else.

“I need a sleepwear.”

He swallows hard, eyes wandering naughtily over your exposed soft skin. They look soft, and you look inviting. Nikolai swears something flips in his stomach, thousands of butterflies crawl out from their cocoons. You smell fresh and fragrant, almost similar to his own whenever he is out of the shower too. He glances down at your exposed thighs—and they are just as cute as they are in a pair of white stockings.

“Nikolai?”

Stop saying my name with that voice.

“Sleepwear, yeah. Right, you incompetent dolly brat. You just can't sleep in the same dress for a second night, can you?” His sarcasm does not sound quite right—his throat is breathy and his voice turns out a little shaky. He gets to his closet, pulling out a baggy old t-shirt and a pair of shorts. He throws them in your direction and once again, he just has to look away at the sight of you kneeling on the bed.

“There. Go change in the bathroom.”

You quietly get off the bed with the shirt and shorts in your hands. As you walk past him, Nikolai is still turned away, not wanting to look at you. He notices from the corner of his eyes that you pause at the entrance, silently observing him.

“Why won't you look at me?”

He swears you are now doing this on purpose—are you attempting to seduce him? To tease him? To anger him? To annoy him? He does not understand what are you trying to do—and it has not even been a complete day since he kidnapped you.

What's your plan? What are you trying to do? What game are you playing?

“Don't bother me. Go get change and then wait on the couch.”

“Yes, sir.” You blithely say before you disappear into the bathroom again, not aware of how havoc Nikolai is now internally.

He palms his face, fighting the urge to screech. He rests his head against the closet door as his hand slowly trails to his crotch.

Hard.

Harder.

— ♡

Nikolai made a mistake.

He should have looked better at the garment he gave you. He knew he gave you a baggy old tee but he did not expect that the shirt would be the thin one. You are just sitting in front of him, eating the cheap meal he prepared but he does not know why you look so alluring right now.

Perhaps because he can see the visible outline of your breasts beneath that thin t-shirt.

Nikolai knows from his previous relationship that some—or perhaps most—people prefer to not wear bras especially when at night and at home, but now he wishes you are one of the minorities.

His lust is tickled. He tries his best to fixate his eyes on your face but somehow they keep trailing down to take a peek through the collar—he could already see your soft plump skin from this angel, and he desires to see more.

Unfortunately, Nikolai does have a thing for having someone else wearing his clothes.

“Nikolai,”

“Huh? What?” Nikolai coughs, rubbing his lips before he averts his gaze elsewhere. He does not want to look at you and he certainly does not notice the frown you are giving him.

“Hmm... Why won't you look at me? I wanna ask a question.”

“Just fuckin' ask.”

“But it's more respectful to have a conversation if we focus on one another.”

“What the hell are you trying to sound smart for? You're such an attention-seeking brat.” Nikolai grumbles, still not looking at you as he feeds himself another spoonful of his food.

“I do like attention, actually...” You grin. “I mean... I don't really have friends or someone to talk to at home... So I like it when people pay attention to me...” You say sweetly—your voice is just like a ray of eternal sunshine, sometimes annoying, sometimes soothing.

“Can you please pay attention to me, Nikolai? Please, please? Pretty please?”

Nikolai takes a deep breath. The way you are begging him—well, not really begging—has his heart doing a whole spin and twist. He reluctantly looks at you and you squeal in delight, giggling. Nikolai purses his lips quickly as he swears he almost smiles at your reaction, especially with the warm fuzzies in his stomach upon hearing your giggle.

“What?” Nikolai asks and you clasp your hands.

“Have you met the loan sharks my father is indebted to? Honestly, I have never seen or met them. I just know he got a lot of money at some point.” You ask. Nikolai rests his face on his hand, propped on the table.

“Actually I am not in direct contact with them. Naturally, I also never see them. Viktor probably has though.” He replies. “I only know some important details.”

“Ooh...” You nod before you lean forward. “Do you know how much money my father owes them?”

Nikolai smirks playfully. “Five.”

You tilt your head, confused. “Five... Five what? Five... hundreds?” Nikolai says nothing other than a shrug of his shoulder, gesturing to you to take a guess. “Five hundred dollars?”

“Rubles.”

“Five hundred rubles?”

Nikolai clicks his tongue. “Who the fuck owe five hundred rubles to loan sharks? Come on, be logical! We are talking about loan sharks here.” He says, nudging your temple. You whine at his hard nudge, rubbing the spot on your skin as you pout slightly.

“Well, how would I know? I never owe people money!”

“You think a group of people would hunt your dad if he owes them five hundred rubles?” Nikolai scorns, shaking his head in disappointment—though it does look more like a teasing gesture.

“Okay... five hundred thousand maybe..?”

“Five million.”

Your jaw hangs wide open, shocked. Your eyes waver all over his face, seeking any trace of trickiness. But Nikolai looks too serious when he says that and you wonder if he is just a good actor or he is telling you the truth. “Uhm, five million... rubles?”

“Yes, dolly. Five million rubles.”

“Really? You aren't lying to me?” You ask again—five million rubles are just a lot. One million could perhaps buy you a nice apartment in a busy city like Moscow, perhaps a car—a used car, much cheaper. You need to work for about five hundred months just to get that amount if you only depend on your base salary in the bar. That does not include the constant stealing from your father though. You would take much longer than five hundred months if your father steals five months' worth of your own money for his selfish self.

“Well, actually he just borrowed two million and five hundred thousand from them and then he ran away for about eight years, right?” Nikolai looks at you for confirmation, to which you nod hesitantly. “So, yeah, the amount increased over the years and currently ended up over five million.”

“But that doesn't make sense? Why would they increase it?” You ask. Nikolai stares at you, eyes squinted. For a short five seconds, his eyes leer down to your body before they travel up again.

“These particular loan sharks have their interest rate at fifteen percent per year. So, the money your father borrowed will increase by fifteen percent every year when he doesn't pay back.” He explains as he crosses his arms. “Fifteen percent out of two and a half million is like... err... three... uh, three hundred seventy five thousand..? You do the math, doll. Times that amount by eight years and well, you got five million. To be exact, five million and a half.”

You blink, no words leave your mouth. You are not speechless because of how much money your father owed and how high the stake actually is between him and the loan sharks. No, you are more amazed by this man, your kidnapper.

“Nikolai, you are so smart!” You say, amazed. You lean forward, eyes glimmering in awe, which makes Nikolai turn baffled. “How do you know all that stuff? Have you worked in a bank before? Did you go to college? Which college? I'm— Well... I couldn't afford to go to one, but I would really love to if—”

“Why is that the thing that you catch on? Did you even listen to what I just explained?” Nikolai asks, jarred. “And I know I am smart. I'm not dumb like you.”

“I don't think I'm dumb though. It's just... I'm educationally restricted.” You grin as Nikolai snorts at your response.

“Well, you basically said you're dumb. Though, I admit that is a smart phrase.” Nikolai smiles as he finishes his food completely before reaching for a bottle of vodka sitting on the table and pouring it into his cup. You try to reach for the vodka as well but he quickly drags it close to him, practically hugging the bottle for himself. He even smacks your hand mildly strong, enough for you to retract your hand.

“Stop calling me dumb... I went to school!” You say, sulky. Nikolai bursts a short cackle, kicking your leg beneath the table. You wince in pain, bringing your legs away from his small kicks.

“Yeah, no. You're dumb because you're not even thinking of your freedom and survival right now. A smart fucking person won't sit nicely with their kidnapper, dumb doll.” He says harshly before he chugs another shot of vodka. You look at him—eyes vacant.

“I... I am thinking of my freedom right now, no? I'm free from my father. That's why I p-prefer it here... Isn't that enough?”

Nikolai pauses. He says nothing other than gazing at you. Your lips part, as if you want to say something but you quickly close them tightly. The air of awkwardness is radiating through the deafening silence.

“Get up. Playtime is over.” He says strictly before he gets up and walks to you. He takes your arm and practically drags you away from the small dining table—it could just fit three people since one side is against the wall. You follow Nikolai quietly.

He pushes you to the bed and takes out a rope from beneath the bed. He kneels right in front of you and proceeds to tie your ankle before he ties the other end to the bed's leg.

“Nikolai, can I ask something? Please?”

“What?”

“How long am I going to stay here?” You ask as your hand gently touches his shoulder. Nikolai swallows nervously before he takes your hand off his shoulder, but he holds it firmly in his grip.

“Until the loan sharks find your dad and retrieve you for their agenda.”

“Do I have to do anything while I'm here with you?” Your voice sounds kind but it bothers Nikolai somehow. He expects his prey for this job to be hard to deal with and would rebel the fuck out of their heart, but no. No, you are just too nice and tender, even for your kidnapper.

He does find it interesting, but he does not want to indulge himself any further in trying to figure you out.

No time to waste for another person. He needs to satisfy his own anger that has been dormant for years, ever since he was thrown into prison.

“Nikolai?” Your voice shakes him out and shakes him thunder when he feels your hand on his hair. His breath hitches and he can physically feel his heart being gripped just the same way your fingers are entwined between the strands of his hair.

“D-Don't. Don't touch me.”

You pull your hand away before you hold your hands together. “Sorry... They just look... so soft and fluffy...”

Fuck, Nikolai wonders if his face is red now because unfortunately—again—he does have a thing for having his hair touched and played with.

“Nikolai, do I have anything—”

“I heard you. Don't repeat. Well, uh... You don't have anything to do. Sleep and wake up whenever you like. Preferably sleep until you skip breakfast and lunch so I don't have to feed you.” He says and the syllables are being thrown so fast that he wonders if you even understand him.

But you nod.

“One more selfish request... Do you have anything I can use to entertain myself with...? Maybe like... books or something? Or magazines?”

He clicks his tongue—oh, now you demand a lot. Nikolai stands up straight and pushes you to lie down on the mattress by your neck. His action, however, causes the collar of the baggy old shirt you are wearing to slip to the side, almost revealing a good amount of skin of your cleavage.

“Goodness, you are so...” Nikolai could not finish his words. He just rakes his hair back and sighs. “Fucking go to sleep. I'm not gonna deal with you anymore. Don't demand shit like I'm a sugar daddy you met in the bar.” He says before he turns to leave.

“O-Okay, my apologies...”, You say softly as he walks off. A sense of relief seeps into his heart when his babysitting job has come to an end—at least for today. But his steps stop when you say,

“Good night, Nikolai. Thank you s-so much... for today.”

Nikolai says nothing. He turns off the light and leaves the room. The clock is still ticking approaching late night. He needs to clean the dishes before going to the bathroom to prepare for bed. But he finds himself squatting by a big storage box right beside the television cabinet. He opens the box, rummaging through it.

Only to take out several books and magazines that have not seen the light since forever.

©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!

You know how identity v had a line friends crossover well how would naib react to having to wear his line friends skin that sounds like the perfect revenge for being mean

oh he would be damn pissed 😭 watch him refuse to move in a match bc of that bear suit...it's comfortable to sleep with though.

＃HOMICIPHER !! ♡ — DWELLING, ROTTING, SURVIVING (MR CRAWLING X READER).

#. synopsis! — speaking isn't the only way to understand, and he's oh so gentle .

#. characters! — mr crawling .

#. warnings! — canon-typical dark content + setting .

#. word count! — 1.7k .

#. alt accounts! — @ddollipop (nsfw) @hhoneypop (moodboards) .

#. others! — navigation & masterlist .

#. a/n! — hi, i posted, please stop bullying me in my inbox :(( - all jokes aside, thank you guys for all the nice messages and compliments! & happy pride to my lgbt followers! funnily enough, don't think i've ever "come out" on this blog, but if it's not obvious, i'm bisexual lol so there's that!

You found yourself pressed against a cold, damp wall in what you could only assume was a room close to the belly of this labyrinth-like building. Breaths came in shallow, frightened gasps as the lights overhead flickered ominously, like they were trying to warn you of impending danger. . . Danger that you felt sting your chest like needles poking through your skin. The oppressive silence surrounding you was broken only by your intakes of air and the soft, almost imperceptible sound of something —or someone— (or maybe a mixture of the two, in this God-forsaken place) nearby.

Squinting into the gloom, a familiar shape emerged from the dark hallway, slipping into the room with you and pausing in the doorway. You felt relief take hold of you.

Mr Crawling. . .

That, of course, likely wasn’t his real name, but you didn’t speak in the language of clicks, noises, and chirp-like sounds that he did, and he didn’t speak with your tongue either. It was for that reason in particular that you’d bludgeoned his head with a crowbar not long ago, to which he sulked in a corner, bleeding and whining, and you were left to feel terrible for hurting the first entity that had tried to go out of his way to show you true empathy in a way you understood.

Apologizing didn’t even begin to feel like enough. Probably because you were at least ninety percent sure he didn’t understand what you were saying anyway. Helping him with the wound perhaps made it slightly better. . . But also not really, because even now as he skims across the ground to where you are, there’s a sense of guilt that weighs heavy on your heart.

Pale, grey-skinned and moving like any non-human mammal of sorts, his face is mostly obscured by the long, stringy black hair that falls in vine-like, clumped strands all the way to the floor from his hunched position. There’s an unsettling, animalistic grace to the way he approaches, but you don’t flinch this time when he puts the flat of his cold palm against the crown of your head, as if trying to soothe your breathing. All of that initial fear has been replaced by a strange comfort of sorts, and you look up at him, thankful for his presence now more than ever.

He tilts his head, as if listening for something, and you watch him warily with the same crowbar clutched in your fist. A part of you felt bad carrying it around like that with his blood still smeared on it, but here, you knew it was foolish to venture around without a weapon of some sort. Not protecting yourself for the sake of his feelings was, unfortunately, not an option as far as you were concerned, but thankfully he didn’t seem to have any opinion on the matter.

“Mr Crawling,” you whisper softly, reaching out to take his hand into your own.

He seemed to really respond to physical touch, and if language was always going to get in the way, you figured it was best to bridge the gap in another manner. This was the next best thing you could think of.

His head raises, and you suppose he’s trying to meet your gaze, though you can’t see his eyes through the mess of his hair.

“I need to understand you,” you say.

Ironically, that’s a bit of a hopeless endeavor in this sort of environment. It’s not like you have all the time in the world to pick up a new, completely unrelated language to yours while fighting for your life. Still. . . Gesturing had been helpful previously, especially for directions. The hooded figure you ran into first was quick to point around, that severed hand that had guided you for a bit was just as poignant in that area, and the silver-haired entity with a blindfold over his eyes had also tried to communicate with you in that sense as well. So why couldn’t you do it vice-versa?

“Me,” you point to yourself, “you,” you point to him.

He stared blankly for a moment, then seemed to come to an understanding. His had retracted from your head to point at himself, then to you, a clicking noise coming from the back of his throat. You smile. It was a small victory amongst a series of devastating losses, but you were keen on taking it and running with it as far as you could stretch it.

“Okay,” you breathe, talking more to yourself than to him. “Let’s try this then. . .”

Feeling a surge of determination, you touch your stomach and then mime eating.

“Hungry. Eat.”

At this point, you were still too anxious to have an appetite, but you knew you’d need food eventually. You were hoping he’d be able to help you with that somehow. Up until this point, you hadn’t seen any evidence of there being food around here, —no containers, boxes, or wrappings, but he seemed to understand your gestures and mimicked you; sitting back on his knees to rub his stomach through his filthy t-shirt, then nibbling on an imaginary item.

He looks back to you, as if seeking approval. You smile, hoping he understands that to be a sign of good will, then nod your head to drive home the association. Beneath his swath of hair, he smiles too, and you catch a glimpse of his eyes through the curtain of black strands; dark and thoughtful.

“Good,” you murmur, feeling slightly relieved. 

If nothing else, this was progress. You spend a while longer trying to communicate basic needs and warnings: things like yes, no, stop, come, drinking, sleeping, and a thank you in the way of patting his head. You’re not sure he understood the depth of it by any means, but he did seem to enjoy it. . . Like a puppy. The thought made you smile genuinely and absentmindedly, if only for a moment. The clicks and chirps he makes are mostly lost on you, but the noises are comforting nonetheless. This rudimentary bridge of understanding soothes you just a little, and you find yourself feeling very thankful that he’s here in the first place.

He has your face cupped in his hands now, as if he’s inspecting you. . . Or perhaps admiring? That is, until you feel his body tense and all his little sounds abruptly come to a halt. A small growl reverberates from the back of his throat and his wide smile droops into a frown. Suddenly, he’s roughly dragging you along, tugging urgently on your arms, to which you comply and follow along with him, scooting across the floor until you reach a shadowed alcove. You hadn’t even noticed it before, but he seems to know his way around this place like the back of his cold, grey hand.

He covers your mouth for a moment, then shakes his head. You cover your mouth, take your hand away, then shake your head no, just to ensure to him that you’ve understood. He pats your head then crouches in front of you, using his own body as a makeshift shield for yours. His long, spindly arms cage you against the wall. Fear rises inside you once again, though not because of him and his actions. Rather, the faint, rhythmic thuds of footsteps have begun reverberating through the hall just outside, and you recognize the harrowing pattern they click in.

Mr Scarletella.

You encountered him once before and felt every hair on your body stand on end. The way he moved through the halls with a menacing flow that sounded almost eerily melodic, and the strange, unsettling red glow that seemed to exude off him that nearly drew you in like a moth to a flame. The steps echoed off the walls of the building and your heart began to hammer against your ribs. Mr Crawling moved closer as he came into view through the doorway that lacked any actual door to close, his long, black hair tickling your nose ever so softly. Dressed in scarlet and carrying his ever-present umbrella, you decide quite readily that you’ve seen enough, closing your eyes and focusing on the cool feel of Mr Crawling’s skin, on his musky scent (like mildew and a bit of rot, which isn’t necessarily pleasant, but it’s not like he can really help it down here.)

Though you’re no longer watching, the entity dripping in scarlet moves with an unsettling, almost predatory grace, glancing about the corridors as if he’s searching for something. Or someone.

Once again, Mr Crawling presses closer to you. Now, you’re able to feel the way his body trembles with fear, and you realize that he’s just as terrified as you are, though you can’t tell if that fear is for himself, for you, or for both of you at once. And it’s not like you can ask. Still, you open your eyes just long enough to look up at him, Mr Scarletella in your peripheral as you force a smile and touch the crown of Mr Crawling’s head, offering what little comfort you can. He still quivers, but seems to appreciate the gesture, though he doesn’t risk a happy chirp.

The danger passes as the man in scarlet disappears down the hallway, then turns the corner. You let out a silent sigh of relief and Mr Crawling relaxes after several moments of continued tension, finally going limp and releasing you from against the wall. He slumps onto his knees, which seems to be his most comfortable position, and he looks at you clearly through the darkness. In that moment, it feels like you’ve understood one another perfectly. 

“Thank you,” you whisper sincerely, though you know he can’t really understand you.

You’re just hoping the gratitude comes across somehow, but at the risk that it won’t, you touch your chest over top of where your heart’s still beating like a drum, then touch his chest in the same place. It dawns on you that you don’t feel a heartbeat at all, and you almost pull your hand away. . . But something stops you. Something that says even if you’re right and he’s something less (or more) than human, —it doesn’t matter as much as the kindness he’s shown you. So your hand lingers until you softly pull away.

He grabs your cheeks again and holds them delicately.

How Do They Decode?

Just a little question I mused about for the survivors today.

“Gee, these machines don’t seem to be holding up very well. How can we help them along, so we can GET OUT before they GIVE OUT?”

In other words, the way I see it, ciphers could process on their own, but the issue is that they’re in terrible shape. So, to get them working again, we have three options, one for each side of the cipher a character can use!

Front. Decoding Manually. Who Needs a Glorified Typewriter to Calculate for You?

Emily, Freddy, Lucky Guy, Kurt, Tracy, Helena, Fiona, Margaretha, Eli, Aesop, Norton, Patricia, Jose, Victor, Luca, Melly, Edgar, Ada, Orpheus, Memory, Luchino, Frederick, Alice, Evelyn

Side. Adjusting and Fixing. Just Keep This Hunk of Junk from Falling Apart, and Let Electricity Do the Rest!

Emma, Lucky Guy, Servais, Naib, Tracy, Vera, Kevin, Eli, Norton, Jose, Demi, Luca, Anne, Orpheus, Joker, Qi, Charles, Matthias, Florian

Back. Beat the Cipher Like it Stole Your Lunch Money. Why Not?

Andrew, Memory, Kreacher, Lucky Guy, Naib, William, Vera, Kevin, Norton, Murro, Patricia, Mike, Edgar, Ganji, Emil, Luchino, Lily, Matthias, Florian

A few commentaries:

-Memory is just a child, so in practice she doesn’t know much about these ciphers and will resort to just kinda shaking and smacking them. However, she’s also a creation from Orpheus’s mind, so his education and inclinations show up in her too sometimes, and this is when she’ll type and calculate.

-Helena has memorized a keyboard layout, but doesn’t exactly know what each part on the cipher does and isn’t violent enough to be smacking at it, so she only types.

-Aesop isn’t the best typer, but he doesn’t like getting his hands covered in the cipher’s grease nor does he want any bruises from roughhousing it.

-Lucky Guy is highly adaptable and can fill in wherever he’s needed on a cipher. Norton is similar, though he does prefer adjusting from the side to typing.

-Luchino is primarily a typer, but sometimes, when his stress is high enough or he’s used enough of that serum, his instincts take over and he rages on the ciphers a bit. -Andrew, William, Murro, and Emil have no clue what these machines are or how they work, just that they NEED to work. And you know what? Beating the fuckall out of them seems to be doing the trick well enough.

Scaramouche has experience a lot betrayal throughout his long life. When you treat him with respect and make him feel like a human being, he is quick to develop feelings for you. His feelings slowly, but surely develop into a deep rooted obsession which makes his synthetic heart beat as if it was real. The bleak and bitter world is suddenly filled with colours and in the centre of it all are you.

He won’t ever let you go. No not at all. He fears he might die without you (not that he will ever admit that obviously). You are so painfully naive and you won’t survive the cruel world without him.

Give me a character and I will give them a random headcanon.

coloured this page from chapter 11

I FORGOT I HAD THIS ACCOUNT

nikolaaaiaiiiiii 💞💞💞💞

greetings tshd tumblr fandom