#nikolai gogol in the distance: *takes notes*

[raimoka]

— " I WANNA SING A SONG THAT'D JUST BE OURS "

｡ ㅤꕤ ㅤ PAIRING: various bsd men & reader.

SYNOPSIS: an objective study of how bsd men love you as whole.

tags ➜ dark era spoilers, stormbringer spoilers, literature references, poetry references, dazai needs a hug, mythology references, nikolai also needs a hug, all of the people listed here needs a hug, has some aspects of angst but generally a fluff, lowercase as always. ‹𝟹

⋆ author's notes: i am so sorry for how short the chuuya one is, i did him so bad.

send an order!! → guide ❀ flowers ←

୨♡୧ dazai osamu (ft. odasaku)

dazai loves you avoidantly.

although he craves your love, the moment he recieves anything resembling it, the nausea builds in his stomach. he shuts down and puts distance between the two of you, running away when you give him what he knows is healthy. he keeps himself in a certain gap, feeling a sense of queasiness upon the exposure and vulnerability.

it wasn't like he loathed the sensation. he just felt nauseated from receiving something that wasn't manifested through manipulation, anger, or fear. he had shown people affection but never did someone show their fondness for him so openly; the softness you were displaying towards him was too much unfamiliar to him.

he didn't know how to act whenever you were being so affectionate towards him, it brought him a sudden feeling of intense warmth engulfing his chest — his fingers would twitch, entangling themselves within the locks of your hair — he didn't know how to react to it thus he would always cover up his tensed up reactions as you pepper kisses all around his face, soft laughters eliciting from you. he knew he didn't deserve your affection, after all, he was no living man, or a celibate son of christ. he was merely an imbecile, a sordid creation of vacantness, without any preacher of a blest, canonical jurisdiction

he's extremely hesitant to pull you closer to himself — afraid that you too will slip through his fingers like sand yet stick to his skin like odasaku. it was always like that, the people dazai didn't want to lose will always be lost. dazai knew it would be too selfish of him to indulge any further to his emotions and cause you misfortune.

but perhaps, he was slightly fond of being selfish too. your skin radiated warmth that seethed into his bitterly cold skin, enveloping himself with warmthness. the sensation of his skin that was often so frigid to the point it reminded himself he was as cold as a rotting corpse being covered with mellowness made him remember he was also human.

so for once, he finally allows himself to indulge in your affection.

୨♡୧ chuuya nakahara (ft. the flags)

chuuya loves you protectively.

every single thing chuuya held dear bid farewell to this universe—the flags, detective murase and other more—and due to that, he often carried an lingering feeling of distress towards you. he consistently was worried at the thought of one day finding you plastered with ichor, eyes dull and lifeless.

he would often scold you whenever you would injure yourself, whether accidentally or not, it didn't matter, you would face strings of lecture from him. he's always swift to notice any sorts of wounds enveloping your skin.

he knew he was overdoing it, however, he couldn't contain himself, he was merely worried but he knew he was beginning to bother you thus he would attempt to reassure himself further to decrease his worriness.

୨♡୧ nikolai gogol

nikolai loves you like how icarus loves the sun.

icarus had always been curious about the sun, the radiant orb often emitted a vivid light for centuries, it shines brightly yet it was alone. he desired to feel it with the tip of his fingertips, to learn more about the coruscation in spite of all the warnings thus he soared up higher to take closer look was for what he yearned, to to caress the passion of his inquisitiveness.

nikolai loved you a little too much, a little too close. his love for you was similar to icarus's love, however, the only contrast was that nikolai oughted to distance himself to you whilst icarus longed to explore his desire more.

nikolai had always wished to be free from his emotions, going as far as to ruin his soul entirely until he is considered inhuman, yet there was one thing he couldn't withdraw himself; you.

he loathed it, his love towards you was vigorous and unerasable. he wanted to scrub off all the glimpses of fondness he felt for you, he detested it. he pined the uplift curl of your lips, your face, your voice, your touch off his mind. he wanted to be free from you, he knew better than anyone else that he was asking for too much, nevertheless, he had always been a man who desired for something beyond capable.

nikolai loves you so much, he wanted to pierce through the soft flesh of yours with a keen knife over and over again until your skin was tainted with crimson red and devoid of life, he coveted to render you entirely under the sod before you could scorch him fully just like how the sun burned icarus.

₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ taglists are open everytime.

2024 © reposts are prohibited with/without permission... plagiarism is prohibited. don’t translate my work without my permission. i will take measures of reporting you. reposts and likes are appreciated.

[yawarakaizai]

ⵌ YOU MUST BE THE WATER I DRINK..

SENDER Reader (fem terms used) RECIPITENT Fyodor Dostoevsky (BSD) CONTENTS His cruel ways were all you ever knew of. His sudden vanishing tugs at the strings of the heart you swore to surrender for him. NOTE reader x canon, angst, death of husband, emotional abuse, reader is too infatuated with fyo to blame him COMPANY Nymphs Finding the Head of Orpheus

Three weeks have passed since you last saw Nikolai. Four weeks have passed since you received the news of your late husband.

Fyodor, who continued to 'haunt' you even after death. You dare not distance yourself from what he once treasured. Yourself.

It was difficult to come to terms with the fact your husband had died.

Furthermore, it was difficult to come to such conclusion after being informed that no remains had been found except for that torn arm Gogol did not give you. Perhaps knowing you'd come to hold it and cry out for him every waking hour. You reasoned Gogol knew you were hurting inside. Of course, your public demeanour never changed from what Fyodor left.

You were what remained of Fyodor's perfect wife. You owe it all to him for having made you into the perfect model of what a good spouse should be.

It did not take him that long to mould you into what you have become now. A dutiful wife there to tend to his every need.

You'd peek your head out from the kitchen hearing him come home from work, almost unsure whether today had been a good day or a bad day. His reaction to your persona of a clingy housewife being able to easily anger him if he had been frustrated that day.

Still, he was there to correct you. Fyodor was there to take your hand into his. You remember vividly how they'd feel against yours. Cold, frail and dangerous compared to your delicate, smooth hands. You knew what those hands of his were capable of doing. The countless men and women who met their demise with a single tap of his finger.

The undeniable fear that bubbled in the pit of your stomach was possibly what made you stay with him for so long. A mixture of both elation and trepidation that urged you to see how long this will go. How long will it be before he replaces you, if he should ever?

This game of knowing you'd never be enough for the man you married yet never daring disobey his every command, at his feet with every beck and call, the threat of an imminent demise delivered by the man you call your love was something you believed to be almost prophetic.

You weren't the girl you used to be.

You heard many remark. You knew so yourself. You had given yourself to your husband to change you as he pleased. Rid you of all things he disliked and fill you with traits he found desirable.

You were his Galatea, in essence. Fyodor wished for you to be subservient and deferential to none but him. ''Your tongue'', as he'd remark, ''will be the death of you''.

There was no doubt in your heart that Fyodor was one to seek out good looks. Even so, you know deep down he wouldn't have wed you if he thought you as 'ugly'.

Conveniently, you were everything he needed in terms of appearance. A beautiful wife by his side. It was all down to how you behaved. He wasted no time in fixing what needed tending.

Through it all, you not once saw what about his acts could be deemed as hurtful. In fact, you felt guilty for taking up so much of his time. What was it about you that made you not yet worthy of his committed love?

To you, Fyodor was perfect, and that meant you should be too.

Although you were sheltered in your shared home, you still made yourself familiar with a few of his colleagues. Nikolai Gogol being one of the few.

When Fyodor would be away for an exceptionally long time, Gogol would be to one to pop in (from nowhere) to keep you company. The jester's company was welcomed warmly by you. His loud and eccentric personality made you wonder how Fyodor got along with him.

Gogol would ensure your safety and well-being almost on the daily. You could never get bored of his presence, always having some trick to show you.

One particular night you spent with Nikolai, you'd been smiling and laughing so much that the corners of your mouth had begun to ache. That simple, human result had been long forgotten by you. You didn't know why it hurt to reminisce on it now.

The last day you seen your husband was him leaving the house earlier than usual. He hadn't even woken you with kisses as he usually would. He had snuck out of bed, in fact, sly as a fox to escape unnoticed.

When he saw you standing like a deer in the headlights on the stairs, your white mini night dress - the straps hanging low on your shoulders, your hair frizzed from a deep sleep and your hand balled up into a fist rubbing at your eye.

He gave your puffy lips a sorrowful gaze, despite the distance. Your pink lips curling into a pout seeing him leave. Something felt different.

" Up so early, princess? "

Fyodor's hand held on lightly to the knob, purple eyes dimly lit by the rising sun, the orange rays illuminating through curtains and invading through the open door.

" Where are you going? " Your voice soft and pitiful. It sounded like a plea for him to stay rather than a question. Fyodor bit back a laugh. At least, you remember him doing so. Your recollection of it was hazy.

" You'll wait for me, won't you? As always. " Avoiding your question, he turned his back to you, muttering a distinct 'I love you' before closing the door shut after him.

He knew you loved him back.

He didn't need to wait to hear it.

He died knowing you love him, even if you hadn't said it.

You'll die loving him, too.

©yawarakaizai 2023 ﹒﹒ reblogs appreciated! requests open :3

[juunobox]

──★ ˙ ̟ there really is no freedom here, is there? (nikolai gogol x gn! reader)

summary : TALKING ABOUT EXISTENTIAL CRISIS THE COMPLEXITIES OF BEING A HUMAN WITH NIKOLAI !!!!!!! HOW FUN!!!!!!!!!!! warnings : mentions of god,,, um,, nothing explicit i swear just existential crisis note : p short, and maybe absurd, my brain hasn't been braining for a while now. unlike my other fics, this one is written in 1st person pov

"Is this why you're always so theatrical, Nikolai?"

"Huh?" Nikolai turned to me, the juggling balls he'd been playing with falling to the floor.

"To mask those emotions deep inside you," I muttered, pulling up my knees to my chest.

Nikolai cocked his head to the side, his silence unbroken as he observed me. His grin then widened, and he closed the distance with dramatic, comically wide strides.

"Well, I guess I do!"

He crouched down before me.

"But you know what, dove? It never really works, if I'm being honest. No matter how much I laugh, make jokes, do magic tricks…"

Letting out a forced giggle, Nikolai held onto his temple and dramatically tossed his head back, bursting into laughter.

"Hahaha! No, no! It's not because I want to 'mask' those emotions, [y/n]! I just think if I suppress them well enough, I won't be able to feel them anymore one day. Then I'll finally be free!"

A grin spread across his lips as he flapped his arms; motioning a bird's wings. I let out a shallow laugh, shaking my head.

"Deep down, you do know that won't be the case, right, Kolya?"

His smile instantly faltered at what I just said.

"..."

For a moment, there was a lull in conversation.

"And why do you think so, dove?"

I had to swallow hard before I could respond with a nod.

"Sure, you technically won't feel anything, but boredom and numbness are still emotions in itself..." I buried my face in my arms, letting out a quiet sigh, "And I have a hunch that you're aware of that, Kolya. But, well, I'm just expressing my thoughts." I continued.

"You didn't need to remind me of that, [Y/N]..." Nikolai muttered out in a hushed voice, taking off his eyepatch and letting it drop to the ground. As it collided with the floor surface, I looked up, finding his gentle yet sorrowful smile.

"There really isn't any freedom, is there?" He said, lifting his hand towards the sky and splaying his fingers as though trying to reach something above. "I suppose we'll be trapped in here forever. We won't ever leave this warm, wet cage, for so long as we're alive."

I let the silence between us sink in for a moment.

"Being a human is so simple, yet so complicated, and so limiting, all at the same time."

A soft laugh emanated from Nikolai as he reached for a strand of my hair, idly twirling it between his gloved fingers. "Go on, dove," He coaxed, encouraging me to speak my mind even more.

"Well... and when people tell me 'your body is your own', it certainly doesn't feel like it. If it really is mine, then why does my emotions, drives and control everything that I do? If it really is mine and mine alone, why am I so controlled by my emotions? It should be the other way around, right?"

"Mhm mhm," the clown hummed, showing he was still listening.

"My emotions... they always feel... so out of control. And why am I driven by my own emotions in the first place? Is it because I'm human? Is it because an entity above me is controlling my emotions, some sort of God, perhaps?"

"..."

"Hahaha! Now, now, that's scary, [y/n]! I certainly would hate that!" Nikolai laughed out loud, the loudness startling me a bit.

"If God is really there, then this just means he can't save anyone." Nikolai's voice softened as he smiled and let go of my hair, his hand now gently cupping my cheek instead. "That's why, we need to find our own way to be free. Find the path to our freedom, in our own ways." he said earnestly.

"I will find a way to free us both," he added, "But for now... I just want to cherish your presence."

I looked at him with a soft smile and asked, "A long day, was it?"

Nikolai agreed with a nod, removing his hat before leaning against me. He slowly closed his eyes and gently took my hand, guiding it to ruffle his silvery locks. "Your touch is so comfortable, can I just take your hand away?" He suddenly spoke, his tone playful.

"I'm not letting you amputate me."

"Hehehehe!" Nikolai only giggled in response and continued to nuzzle against me. "I'm just kidding, dove!"

[fivekrystalpetals]

Now that Dazai and Fyodor are going to finally actively start participating in all the chaos they have collectively caused in the world, I prepared a list of how many allies in total Fyodor has on his side and how many people want him dead asap before next chapter: 

(This is just for fun; don’t take it too seriously lol. Also, Fyodor is an unreliable narrator so I won’t be surprised if he brings in new tricks and pieces to the table out of thin air)

In order of alliance:

F. S. Fitzgerald: Backstabbed, caused Moby Dick to fall, stole 40% of Guild’s assets, another attempt on his life to prevent use of God’s Eye (definitely wants Fyodor dead) 

Agatha Christie: got the pilots from the Order to be poisoned and murdered (unsure about their alliance status)

Hawthorne: used as a mindless puppet; currently captured in Anne’s Room (he needs to wake up from his brainwashing for us to know his alliance status; probably hates Fyodor)

Shibusawa: sent him to his death eight to ten years ago at the mantiger’s claws, slit his throat again and destroyed his collection (dead)

Crime and Punishment: he and his ability are close acquaintances apparently (allies)

Ace: wanted to form an ‘alliance’; hanged himself (dead)

Goncharov and Pushkin from the Rats in the House of Dead: Goncharov is brainwashed and arrested; Pushkin doesn’t care about Dostoyevsky (how is he not brainwashed) plus he too is arrested (no help can be expected from either of them)

Mushitarou Oguri: found better friends in Ranpo and Poe (idk if he hates Fyodor but he won’t help him again for sure)

Nikolai Gogol: was supposed to die in the Wretched Chair Arc ‘according to plan’, escaped, wants to get rid of Fyodor because he was the only one who understood him (complicated, both of them need therapy and relationship counseling)

Sigma: got him shot by Hawthorne, currently allied with Dazai and Gogol in their plan to kill Fyodor (he just wants a home, guys. Someone please rescue him from these freaks)

Kamui / Fukuchi: Leader of DoA, struggling with all the it-didn’t-go-according-to-plan-! scenarios (like with Atsushi running away with his identity, Tachihara, Jouno, Bram etc.) so their alliance is definitely on thin ice (If anyone is to break this alliance, I bet it’d be Fyodor)

Bram Stoker: enemies with Fukuchi, joined DoA against his will, currently friends with Aya (and ADA) (definitely no alliance with Fyodor) 

Nakahara Chuuya: turned into vampire, brainwashed, Dazai’s ex-partner, would he help Fyodor or Dazai? Find out more in next chapter! (shaky alliance)

People who hate him with a vengeance: Ranpo, Kunikida, Dazai

People who openly want him dead: Ranpo, Nikolai Gogol

Alliance strength: very very shaky

No. of allies: 4 (Fukuchi(?), Agatha Christie(?), Chuuya(!), Crime and Punishment(??))

Feel free to add more to this list! I might have forgotten some but guess this is pretty exhaustive 

[mikauzoran]

Lukadrien: Quixotic Collection with Something to Prove: Lukadrien - “Don’t you ever get tired of saying that to me?”

Read it on AO3: Quixotic Collection with Something to Prove: Lukadrien -  “Don’t you ever get tired of saying that to me?”

Prompt Submitted by: @pawsomelybuggy

It was odd how one could feel so completely alone, even while in the best of company.

Adrien certainly felt mentally isolated as he sat on the couch in the main cabin of the Liberty, Luka lying on the seat beside him, reading Dead Souls by Nikolai Gogol.

If Adrien wanted, he could have reached out and poked Luka’s cheek, but their physical closeness did nothing to lessen the chasm of emotional distance between them.

With a sigh, Adrien fiddled with Luka’s acoustic guitar, playing a rather vanilla one-four-five chord progression followed by a slow string of arpeggios.

He bit his lip, sneaking glances at Luka (absorbed in his book), hoping that Luka might notice that something was wrong. Luka was always so good at picking up on when Adrien felt anxious or lonely or unloved…but, today, Luka seemed too caught up in his own world to intuit Adrien’s suffering.

“…Luka?” Adrien called softly.

Luka blinked stretching his neck to look back at Adrien. “What’s up, Perfect Fifth?”

Adrien dropped his gaze down to his fingers. “Could you show me where F is again? I’m sorry. I’m totally spacing today.”

It was getting to be a bit of an inside joke at this point. Adrien would ask Luka to show him where F was, and Luka patiently positioned Adrien’s fingers time and time again.

The contact was brief and practically inconsequential, but, often, it was enough to get Adrien through a rough patch. He so rarely got touched in any meaningful way. There were the people who dressed him and did his hair and makeup for modeling, but their touches were perfunctory and professional, lacking any true human warmth.

When Luka touched Adrien to position his fingers on the strings, it was kind and genuine and personal…and Adrien had learned to take whatever he could get, even if he had to make himself look like an idiot and risk annoying Luka by asking him over and over to help him find the same note.

Luka closed his book and set it aside on the makeshift coffee table, sitting up and scooting in next to Adrien to gently place his fingers on the strings.

“There you go,” Luka replied softly, an affectionate smile stretching across his lips and reaching all the way into his eyes and voice.

“Thanks,” Adrien chuckled sheepishly as he committed the sensation to his skin’s memory to summon up later when the solitude got to be unbearable.

“Sorry again. Every time I have to ask you, I always worry you’re going to tell me to figure it out myself because you’re sick of teaching a student who’s obviously incapable of learning,” Adrien laughed self-deprecatingly, forcing a wide, lighthearted grin.

A deep, troubled frown settled onto Luka’s face, and he rested a tentative hand on Adrien’s thigh. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“Sorry,” Adrien immediately backpedaled, averting his gaze in mortification. “Of course you wouldn’t. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply—”

“—Hey.” Luka gave Adrien’s leg a light squeeze. “Shhh. Adrien, it’s okay. I know it’s not about needing help to find the note.”

Adrien blinked, looking up at Luka dumbly. “You…You do?”

Luka nodded with an encouraging smile. “I’ve picked up on the fact that you only ask when you’re feeling emotionally raw. I’m sorry. I should have said something sooner, but I worried you might be sensitive about it.”

“Oh,” Adrien choked, feeling his face begin to burn with shame. “Yeah. I mean…it’s kind of embarrassing.”

“It’s not something you should have to be embarrassed about,” Luka coaxed, scooting in closer and carefully taking the guitar, setting it on the coffee table beside his book.

Adrien gave him a questioning look.

“If you ever want a hug, all you have to do is ask,” Luka informed, opening his arms in a silent offer. “Any time,” he stressed. “I’m always available if you need someone to snuggle with.”

Tears started to leak from Adrien’s eyes as he practically threw himself into Luka’s arms, burying his face in Luka’s chest and holding him tight.

“Shhh,” Luka comforted, wrapping his arms around Adrien and rubbing calming circles between his shoulder blades. “I will always be here for you.”