#vxmpyree

We're back and rebranded :]]! Sorry it took so long anon!! I lost interest in cod, but we're back

nikto list

♫ for what reason - death cab by cutie

nikto has never cared for winter. it only means he needs to wear a thermal shirt beneath his gear.

this year is different. his bed is full in the morning, and his loveseat is taken in the afternoon. you are a small pleasure-- an indulgence-- something that he usually doesn't let himself have often. no one has stuck by him until you. now, he has to think of holidays and family get-togethers.

russia is hard on you. once a chill starts to settle, you tell him you've never been this cold. he rubs the goosebumps on your arms and laughs. he'll have to buy you something warm later.

he forgets you aren't like him. you didn't grow up playing around in the snow or helping your father shovel the stuff out of the driveway. you never slipped on ice coming home from school. summers are warm here, but back home, yours are hot.

relief from your discomfort comes in pretty sights. snow starts falling in October.

hmm thinking of visiting valeria in prison. they don't let you visit her without restrictions-- they're afraid you're one of her men. such a dangerous woman can't have finer things in life, like seeing her pretty lady without guards at the door and a pat-down search.

when you do see her, you press a kiss on the glass in tandem with her. you pull away after leaving a dark red lipstick mark, just for her.

nikto who loves baths.

nikto will spend hours in the shower, making your water bill skyrocket through the roof while he counts the tiles of the cramped space over and over.

nikto's skin is red and dry after long showers. he likes to nap in front of the air conditioner unit in your bedroom. if not doing so, he's disassembling his rifle on a towel and wiping it clean.

when nikto takes baths, he prefers to have company. he stares at your face in a daze while the faucet occasionally drips. you watch him in return, looking at how his mask is sopping wet from the water. his slick black hair hangs over the sagging cloth, forming windows for his bright eyes to look at you through.

nikto will scrub your back quietly, and won't move an inch until all of the suds are gone and your flesh is scrubbed raw. then he'll twist around, and expect you to do the same for him. that means nikto wants you silent and doesn't appreciate any quips or comments. not when he's bearing his scarred back to you.

[headlock - imogen heap]

nikto who finds comfort in domestic, quiet things after retirement.

nikto thought that he would be the kind of man who still takes mercenary work every once in a while, and remains tethered to a hot gun and cold battlefield. but when he settles into the quiet life and realizes that this is not weak, not shameful, he decides that maybe he’ll indulge in something close to domestic.

he picks up a job at the corner store a block away to keep his hands busy. it’s something lighthearted, easy. heavy machinery blaring in his ears and the hollers of workers would bring him back to the field. no, he prefers the quiet of a mom-and-pop shop. nikto doesn’t mind eating the kasha and smokey cutlets you prepared the night prior for lunch in the silent storage room.

in the beginning, when he comes home from work, he likes to pretend that he’s returning from a long deployment. it’s easy to trick himself when he looks at how you smile and fret over him, asking if it was too much and whether your cooking was up to par. 

but you don’t have to cry now and look up at him through bleary eyes, having been worried sick. no, you know that he will come home now. if you miss him, he’s only a five or six-minute walk away.

he likes to do things for you. if the chair to your vanity is wobbly, he’ll pick it up and lug it away to repair it in the backyard. if you’re having trouble painting your nails, he’ll take the brush and shakily apply it. you laugh at how he smears it all over your skin. when it’s time to bathe, it’s a guarantee that nikto will step in with you. he’ll lightly wash your back, taking care not to fiercely scrub. 

[ and i love her - kurt cobain cover ]

konig doesn’t deserve you, not really. he is undeserving of seeing you in a white gown, drenched in eyelet lace and pearls, walking down the aisle. he doesn’t even deserve to see you in a beat-up sweatshirt with his old boardshorts, curled up in bed. he is unworthy of the austrian treats you learned to make for him, so very eager to bring light to his face after weeks or months of deployment. 

well, that’s what people tell him. 

konig knows it is what he’s owed. he’s performed countless successful hostage rescue missions. numerous lives have been saved all thanks to him, so why should he not wake up to a warm body in a soft bed? it’s not arrogant!

you are all he’s ever wished for and more-- heaven dressed in flesh and blood. 

you are gentle with everything like anything could falter beneath your touch. as if; you couldn’t hurt a fly. you are not senselessly unkind, but not a pushover, he quickly learned. you do not challenge him, either passively agreeing or saying that you think otherwise politely. he can’t bring himself to make snarky remarks, not when you’re so… mild.

his chest puffs out whenever you’re in public together, taking pride in holding your hand at the grocery store or post office. he is the one who gets to hold your hand, the one who gets to wake up to you in the morning, your hair disheveled and clothes out of place. you don’t mind the little smirk he has-- you can’t help but laugh at the sight of his broad shoulders hanging back and head up, so confident to be by your side. you think it’s sweet. oh, if only you knew.

if his dear wife knew what he was like on the battlefield, what would you do? would you shut down and refuse to say a word to him until he begged enough? or would you not care at all, and say that his coworkers don’t know the real konig?

he hopes for the latter but knows in his heart that it is the former. you are not naive or unaware, but you certainly are squeamish and faint of heart. the thought of your husband slaughtering men like cattle and knowing that he is cocky while doing so would certainly disturb you for days to come. 

konig who is clingy.

how could he not be when he hasn’t seen his schatz in ages? konig never gets to see you, and if he makes plans to, his work often overrules them. that is no way to treat someone such as you, someone deserving of more than he has to offer.

anywhere you go, he follows like a scrappy dog. when you get up late at night for some water, you turn around to find him looming in the doorway. where were you? don’t get up; he’ll get it for you. stay in bed so that he knows where you are, please. and when you rise in the mornings, he lingers around the kitchen while you cook. why did you scramble your eggs? don’t you prefer them over easy?

konig lets you have space when his favorite show is on, or if the news shows something worth his while. well, sort of. he stares at the television slack-jawed while you sit beside him, either messing with your phone or reading at your leisure. 

he’s not always talking your ear off, but he definitely makes his presence known. if you’re just lying on the couch, he’ll come over and throw himself over you, peering at whatever is on the television while he clings to your midsection.

omg my first ask :D! yap about pining nikto ♡ ♡ if i portray DID in a way that’s wrong/offensive, please let me know

[ join me in death - HIM ]

sometimes, nikto is not present.

he will sit next to you, yes, but it is not always him. the two of you could be sitting down over hot pelmeni. the next thing he knows he’s “waking up” to you laying on his chest, tracing soft shapes into the bulging muscle of his bicep as you whisper about something completely foreign to him. 

the other parts of nikto are not opposed to you being his choice of partner. some of them like you just as much as he does, indulging in your slow, well-meaning touches. but when a certain alter fronts, he comes back to find you refusing to even look at him with your bleary eyes. when you notice that it’s him again, you reach out to hold him, mumbling about the things they said and did.

he loves to sit by your side as you watch russian cartoons or soap operas, repeating what they say beneath your breath as you jot down new words. sometimes, he'll pick on you and pretend that he can't hear you or that you said a word terribly wrong, having you scrambling to defend yourself.

when he is at work, things are different. he cannot be merciful and tender like he is with you with the enemy.

sometimes, it’s hard for him to switch out of that cold headspace. he swats your open arms away as he tracks mud into the home, not caring to answer your forlorn calls. it isn’t until hours later, just before you’re about to go to bed, that he reaches out with a gentle hand. you fold every time, never holding it against him. you are just the amount of quick to forgive and understanding that he needs.

the way he gushes over you is insufferable to his team. when they aren’t hard at work, he’s reading letters from you over and over, showing them your pathetic attempt at russian. it’s cute to him, the slants where they shouldn’t be and unclosed circles. but you have shown that learning about his culture matters, so it does not feel insincere or lazy.

you are too kind to nikto. it is difficult for him to look at you when you beam at him, hands covered in flour as you make him blinis. from scratch! you found a different way to make fucking blinis all because he doesn’t like sourdough. 

as strange as it feels for nikto to acknowledge it, you love him. at first, he was in denial. those hot meals accompanied by light touches for him to fall asleep to could be casual. he’s seen people go above and beyond, only to pin it as something light-hearted and simple. after you said it for the umpteenth time, he started to consider that maybe you did love him.

Like, Bale found Reader on a mission, at first he took care of them and he wanted to take Reader with their family, but he became to attached to them, started to make excuses so Reader wouldnt leave etc

He tells Reader that he is trying to get Reader with their family, but he just wants to keep Reader with him

Hi i kept rewriting this. this man is incredibly SELFISH!

tw// kidnapping

dmitry isn't very sure of who he is anymore.

when he joined the military, it was because he wanted to be good. he didn't really know what being good meant, he just knew that he wanted to be a hero.

could he call himself a hero now? the way you look at him makes him feel like one.

you're curled up at his feet with your head on the edge of the sleeping bag. your stomach is sore from crying. his glove is somewhere nearby, and his bare hand strokes your head. you lift your head to stare up at him.