Zoloftwithdrawalnausea - Zoloft For Nikto

Ode, this is a favorite Gromsco!

"Nikolai had shattered Yegerov's friend's skull with the wrench propped up against the wall nearby. The blood had spattered up his bare torso, matting his chest hair, stained the side of his face. Shirtless, with a buzzcut he hadn't worn since his time in the Russian Air Force, he looked every part the madman he had become."

From this fic by @on-a-lucky-tide

As you can see, the image staid with me.

Alternate versions ( No blood, Nik with hair, lineart) under "keep reading" ⬇️​⬇️​⬇️​

russian language is so hard man and apparently old russian was even harder

i took a bag of edibles and felt nothing bro, why can't i get high is it the anti depressants

i'm a big man but if Captain Price says i'm his pretty little missus then by golly i am his pretty little missus

waaghhhhh, cute!!!!!!! i could share my brushes! but they are procreate brushes, and maybe photoshop importable

he's looking at you, will you kiss his forehead?

Not only do I kiss him, I give him a bouquet of roses!

(I liked your marker brush so much I wanted to do something similar)

König Krueger Nikto all just loosely holding hands in a lil cult sesh but they're really just trying to manifest their plan working

I don’t know what this is, but it’s this. Yuh.

Also first time drawing Krüger, yay!

Nikto would be the WORST enabler for procrastinating because he jumps at any opportunity to chill with you. He slips himself against you so subtly, so carefully, you don't notice till it's too late.

"I have so much laundry to do...". You'll ponder aloud, climbing into bed.

"we will do it together later, llubov. Do not worry". He'll assure you, also climbing under the covers with you. Tucking the blankets closer around you both as you struggle to not yawn.

"and that email... that I need to send". You'll pout, letting him cradle you against his chest, eyelids struggling to stay open.

"hmm... Yes". He'll mumble, nuzzling his nose into your hair, locking ankles with yours beneath the covers.

Meanwhile you're both snuggled under the duvet in your bedroom, the blinds drawn he did it on purpose, knowing it made you sleepy and you accidentally take a 4 hour nap.

Glare at him with those sleepy eyes, little one. He'll just pet your face with those rough thick fingers of his and usher you to settle down again. Another hour, please.

Oooh taking off nikto's mask thoooo

when you saw nikto's face for the first time, it was on a balmy night. you were deployed to a small section of the middle east, hunting down one of zakhaev's groups. but it'd been so, so long, and even a man such as himself, one burdened by the need for revenge, can only wait for so long.

so, you set up camp for the night.

you traded cigarettes with one another. he had the cheap, crude kind-- the sort that you smoke only to take the edge off. (really, you only liked them because his chapped lips touched each one before he passed them onto you.)

you still remember the look in his eyes. he was magnetic, this character that disturbed you but drew you in with every little quip and brooding look. there was-- is-- something about him that you just can't shake.

the night set in, and after smoking for quite a while, you both got into the tent. it was small. if a strong wind came through, it would've knock it down with the two of you in it. but you weren't nervous, not with nikto around.

he always wore a face-covering, often a mix of fabrics and tactile material. you knew of the campfire tales from your rookie days of what he endured, of how zakhaev tortured him, each story more exaggerated than the last. you don't really know what happened, you just know it was bad enough for him to always hide behind a mask.

like a fool, you asked him about it. and he answered by turning around, presenting the clasp to you, daring you to release him from the measly pieces keeping the mask together.

you did. your fingers hesitated before undoing the clasp, but you did it. he did not flinch-- he wasn't bluffing or trying to prove a point. he just let you do it, and you weren't sure of why. maybe it was because you were alone, or that he liked that your mouth touched his cigarettes, or maybe he just wanted to give you something to write home about.

was he beautiful, or ugly? was he "atrocious" and "blighted by scars?" maybe. maybe not. this character that people formed, that he played into, was not all it was made out to be. he looked just as tired as everybody else, just as sullen. you saw him as andre that night, not just nikto, the man who kills and terrorizes.

alt version of one of my prev