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selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs · 3 months

Note

Child reader who hates physical touch and I mean absolutely despise it but sometimes clingy to poe and akutagawa too feel comfortable because of their social anxiety

No pats

Self-Aware! Platonic! Edgar Allan Poe x GN! Child! Reader x Self-Aware! Platonic! Akutagawa Ryunosuke

Description: You are the cutest kid ever. Such a shame, that you don't like pats and hugs. Or, do you?

Warning: OOC. English is my second language

_____

🧥🦝 It was quite a surprise for BSD Cast, when they learned, that you are a child.

🧥🦝 They were a little bit worried. You are a kid, and you have read about some dark stuff in their manga. Aren't you too young to read about mafia, criminals and cities destruction?

🧥🦝 Well... There is nothing they can do about it. Besides, this revelation won't change much for them. They still adore you.

🧥🦝 How could they not adore you? You are sweet and cute child.

🧥🦝 After a little friendly competition between adult characters of an "acceptable for being an adopted parent", you were officially adopted by Bram.

🧥🦝 Bram is your guardian de jure. De facto you are adopted by every member of BSD Gang.

🧥🦝 BSD Cast do everything to make you feel happy. But, there is one little thing. And it makes them nervous.

🧥🦝 You hated any form of physical affection.

🧥🦝 Every time, someone tried to give you a head pat, you either froze or tried to dodge. And, while less tense, you didn't like, when other kids touched you.

🧥🦝 It made everyone feel puzzled and nervous.

🧥🦝 Were they scarring you? Has someone hurt you in the past? Maybe, they have rushed things, and you didn't want to be adopted by them?

🧥🦝 They decided to deal with the possibility of you being hurt in the past. Your medical records didn't show much. You were a healthy baby and healthy kid. But, documents can be forged.

🧥🦝 They needed to hear about your past from someone from your past. Teachers and people from orphanage.

🧥🦝 Time to call for Mushitarou's and Ango's abilities.

_______

"I swear, I didn't do anything bad! Please, don't hurt me!" Orphanage's director begged, trying to get away from Akutagawa.

Akutagawa's grip became stronger. Mafioso hissed. Rashomon slowly raised its head above Akutagawa's shoulder.

"I don't believe you. Why [Y/N] is so nervous, when someone are touching them?"

Director mewled, sobbed and lost consciousness.

Akutagawa rolled his eyes and lose his grip on Director. Man fall down on the floor, like a bag of potatoes.

Akutagawa stepped away and left the Director's office. He hopped, that Man-tiger could find something.

________

🧥🦝 Meanwhile, Poe decided to simply talk to you.

_______

You were enjoying your cake. Poe, who sat on the opposite side of the table, observed your movements. Karl was sitting on your lap. You wanted to give him a piece of your cake, but Poe warned you not to do this. Karl could become sick because of the cake.

"[Y/N], can I ask you something?" Poe's voice was warm and shooting. You nodded, silently chewing the sweet treat. Poe smiled. You looked like a hamster.

"[Y/N], are we scaring you? You always freeze, when someone tries to give you a head pat. Even when Q and Elise tried to hug you, you jumped away from them."

You swallow and shook your head.

"No! No! I love living with you. I just don't like being touched!"

Poe thought over your answer and asked another question.

"That's it? We won't be angry, if you feel nervous around us. It's okay to feel nervous in this situation."

You shook your head again.

"That's it. I always hated to be touched."

Poe just nodded. It's fine. He must tell others about it. So they won't make you upset anymore.

_______

🧥🦝 Akutagawa, Atsushi, Ango and Mushitarou didn't learn anything new about you. Everyone called you a sweet, quiet child, who have never got into troubles. At least, they've proved, that you weren't hurt in the past.

🧥🦝 When they returned home, Poe told them, what he has learned about you.

______

🧥🦝 Everything were fine.

🧥🦝 All of you slowly learned to be a family. You became more talkative. You started spending time with BSD Cast more often. You still didn't like physical affection. BSD Cast respected it.

🧥🦝 One day, something interesting happened.

🧥🦝 When you and Poe were getting groceries.

_______

The grocery store was almost empty.

As usual, you were walking close to Poe. As usual, weren't holding his hand or grabbing his sleeve. Poe kept a close eye on you.

Everything went fine. Until you two reached the candy aisle.

The bunch of kids, same age as you, were discussing their favorite candies. Kids were quite loud. But not loud enough to be asked to leave the store.

Then, Poe felt it. Two small hands grabbing his sleeve, and a child's face being pressed against his arm.

Poe looked at you. You looked nervous, glancing at the kids from time to time. You looked anxious.

Poe knew, too well, how social anxiety looked like. He carefully put his free hand on your head. You didn't move. You looked slightly grateful for having Poe's hand on your head.

"Want to leave?" whispered Poe. You nodded. Poe freed his arm from yours, took your hand, and went to the cash register.

You kept holding his hands. You let it go only when Poe and you almost reached home.

______

🧥🦝 You became more open in Poe's presence. You sent time in his room, playing with Karl, doing homework and reading books. Sometimes, you cling to Poe, when you felt nervous about school festivals/class gatherings.

🧥🦝 Soon, you found second person to be as open as you were with Poe.

🧥🦝 An unexpected one.

_____

You didn't like excursions. So many people around you makes you feel anxious. You take a deep breath. It didn't help to lessen your anxiety. So, you decide to move to the next step.

You clung to Akutagawa, who was accompanying you today.

Mafioso looked at you. He was slightly puzzled. But, after noticing your expression, unbuttoned his coat, hiding you with it.

"Thanks..." whispered you, clinging to Akutagawa's side.

"No problems," shrugged Akutagawa, giving you a headpat.

_____

🧥🦝 Now you have two people you go to, when you feel anxious. You liked to spend time with Poe and Akutagawa. Sometimes, you let them give you a headpat.

🧥🦝 Maybe, one day, you will cling to more people.

🧥🦝 For now, you have Older Brother Poe and Older Brother Akutagawa.

🧥🦝 And they will always be there for you.

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masked-buffoon · 3 years

Text

Chapter 13: Filled emptiness (Part 5)

Warnings: addiction (+ withdrawal), mentions of assault, mentions of murder

Author notes: and here is the last part of the chapter...! I really hoped you liked it and that there was no drop in quality compared to the previous ones... That’s honestly my greatest fear about chapter 13... (and having Dazai OOC too...) For the moment, see you in the next chapter, which, hopefully, will come out soon! Thank you all for your support!

"He was deaf-mute?" Dazai asked.

Unable to calm down, even after going back to the Armed Detective Agency and spending an afternoon to type the report, I had decided to spend the evening with him, despite having my own place. My time at the police station had been so stressful that the entire box of morphine substitute had been emptied throughout the rest of the day.

"Yes…! And those idiots did not even notice it…" I groaned, angrily frying vegetables in the pan.

Uemura-san had sent me a text with a new recipe, and I had suggested to my friend to cook for him, for a change. Without much enthusiasm, he had accepted, even if it meant giving up on crab for a meal.

"Policemen these days are so unreliable~" He noted "But I can't believe that would make you so flustered~"

"... One of them dared me to read his mind…" I muttered, blushing again "I… It was disgusting, really…"

I shivered, suddenly feeling cold, and images of the man who had bought me five years ago flashed in my mind. I regained consciousness just before dropping my chopsticks, and shook my head. Nothing had happened… There was no reason for me to be scared of a man I could crush with a single punch, anyway…

"Ogawa? Are you alright?" He inquired, noticing my silence.

"Yes!" I hastily replied "I'm fine, it's nothing. I had a hard day, and I kinda miss morphine… The aftereffects of my therapy, I suppose."

"... I see."

I could easily see that he had guessed my concerns, and, perhaps innerly, I wished he would insist more, show me he really did care, somehow… Instead, I put on my brightest smile and lied, saying I was alright. I could not fool him, then why did he not ask me again, tell me that he knew, and that I should just talk to him…? No, if I really wanted to talk, I should just do so, anyway… It was not his fault. He was actually being considerate by not pushing the matter further. I should be grateful… Yet…

A wave of nausea hit me, and I rushed to the bathroom, feeling unable to hold it in. I ended up throwing up violently, my entire body shaking. That was different from when I was suffering from my ability. I could tell that this nausea had purely been provoked by the lack of morphine. I was craving it, unused not to have the familiar product circulating in my veins. Moreover…

"Are you alright, Ogawa…?"

I heard him lean onto the doorframe. He was there, watching, and I felt ashamed to give him such an unsightly show. I thought I could even cry in embarrassment.

"I'm…" I paused, spasming "I'm fine… Just…"

I threw up again.

"... The therapy… I crave… Morphine…"

"I know…"

Was that all…? He knew…? Then what…? I bit the inside of my cheeks. I could not let myself be influenced by the Fox's words. He was my friend, I knew him better than the informer ever would…

"Do you know what would do you some good?" He asked, coming closer to hold my hair back for me.

"... What would…?" I questioned after vomiting yet again.

"A warm bath." He smiled and patted my back slightly "I'll pour one for you."

"W-Will you…?" I tried to face him.

"Sure, why not? Oh, by the way, I turned the fire off. Your vegetables would have burnt otherwise~"

"Thank you, Dazai…" I cracked a smile "Thank you…"

"H-Hey, what are you — Ogawa…" He sighed "Crying again, aren't you…?"

"N-No, that's…" I sniffed "Mood swings… They're an aftereffect… Too…"

"Mmh, of course. An aftereffect…"

As promised, Dazai poured me a warm bath, before leaving the bathroom to give me some privacy. The water felt agreeable against my bare skin, and I soaked myself entirely in it, finally able to relax after that tiresome day. How could I have shown such a shameful part of myself? Although mood swings really were part of the withdrawal syndrome I was suffering from, I could not use them as an excuse to justify my weird behaviour.

"Ogawa, are you sleeping?" My friend's voice echoed from behind the door.

"Who sleeps in a bath?" I retorted playfully.

"At least, you seem a lot better."

I heard him slump against the door. He was most certainly sitting there, without saying a word.

"Dazai… Are you alright…?" I asked him.

"I am. But you should worry about yourself a bit more… I'm not the one suffering from withdrawal." He said.

"No, but you're still grieving your friend. You haven't been to work for two days. Kunikida has most likely given up." I giggled "I am just concerned about you…"

"You mustn't be." He told me, rather curtly "I cannot return that concern properly, anyway…"

I sighed.

"How much have you heard from my talk with the Fox?"

His silence followed, and I understood he had been aware of most parts of our discussion. I shifted in the water to lean on the edge, facing the door.

"Then, you must know I disagreed with him."

"You did… But I know all of that. I know I'm turned towards Odasaku and that I tend to overlook matters about you… I know I'm not an ideal friend, despite being the one asking you to stay by my side… And you… You comply with each of my whims, going as far as putting your own health aside…" He almost murmured by the end.

"That's because I do care about you." I smiled, although he could not see it "Besides, you gave me your coat, that morning. You always give me your coat when I feel bad…"

I paused, chuckling at the memories.

"Even when you were still my abusive superior, you had given me your coat to protect me from the rain, the day I had killed my parents…"

"I remember…" He chuckled, too "I even thought, at the moment, that you looked small, frail, and weak… You had nothing to do with a murderer."

"Frail and weak…? Despite all of my efforts to look tough…? I'm disappointed…!" I pouted.

"Well, that's also the reason why you're often… Taken advantage of." He sighed.

"Men are gross creatures." I huffed "I can't count the number of times I've been looked down at, or assaulted. I'm used to it, now. But reading that pig's thoughts took me aback, I have to admit it…"

"I could easily guess that. What amazes me, though, is the fact that, despite that, you're taking a bath at my place without a second of hesitation." He noted.

"That's because you're my friend. You've seen me in all sorts of situations, I know I can trust you. Am I wrong to do so~?"

"Well, I'm flattered." He sounded amused.

"Why, despite surely fooling around and acting as a womaniser, I know you're not perverted."

The water had cooled down, which was my signal to come out of my bath. With a towel, I dried myself, before reaching for my clothes. They were gone.

"Dazai, what did you do with my things?"

"Yosano-sensei came by earlier, looking for you~ I told you though, that you had drifted off in the bath~" He laughed "She asked me to, as she said, "burn the rags you use to cover yourself"... Pretty harsh, if you want my opinion~"

"Is she serious…? Really, now…!" I groaned "I suppose she brought over my new set of clothes…"

"Well… Not at all. She just demanded me to lend you a shirt for tonight, but she expects you to wear her gift~"

"For goodness' sake…"

My eyes fell onto the shirt he had put nearby. I had first thought that he had forgotten his there, but it turned out he had left it on purpose in the bathroom… I sighed.

His shirt was too big for me, as predicted, but it was vexing to notice it was covering a large part of my body. Was I, indeed, so small and frail…?

"Thanks…" I told him when I went out of the bathroom.

"No need to." He smiled "Do you want to keep working on your vegetables?"

I had completely forgotten about the dinner I was supposed to prepare.

"It's a bit late, but… Do you want to try it out?"

"I already promised I would." He sat down at the table.

"Then, I hope you won't regret it~ It can't be worse than the hard tofu you made, anyway…" I remembered "Sakaguchi-san hated it, and Odasaku was trying to be as polite as possible…!"

"It was a piece of art…!" He defended.

"It was a blunt weapon, Dazai… In fact, we couldn't even taste it." I giggled, putting a plate in front of him.

"Thanks~ Well, that tofu could have been a secret weapon of the Port Mafia… Imagine, killing enemies by throwing tofu on them…~!"

"That would have ruined our reputation…!" I laughed.

I believed the vegetables were cooked enough, perhaps even too much, for they had lost their crunchiness. Or was it because I had been away too long…? Next time, I would have to be more mindful of that… And perhaps I should add more salt…

"By the way…" Dazai said "You're leaving for Hokkaido?"

"Ah, yes…!" I realised I had not told him about it "The Fox requested my help as a detective."

"I see… That's good. Moreover, since it's summer, it won't be cold."

"That's right… It will be my first time leaving Yokohama…! I'm a bit excited about it…"

"Will it be alright, with your therapy?"

"It will. Don't worry about —"

I paused. Yosano-sensei had advised me against staying alone while receiving treatment for my addiction. I had an idea.

"Dazai… Won't you come with me to Hokkaido?" I suggested.

The smile which enlightened his face warmed my heart at the same time, and I knew I had made the right choice by asking him. His sincerity was a rare sight to witness… It was not a wrong path to walk down, making him happy, after all.

#bsd #bsd fanfic #bsd dazai #bsd yosano #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs oc #Dazai Osamu

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keeroo92 · 5 years

Note

I read your post about the dmc boys helping a s/o with body image issues and I loved it 😭 can I ask for more comfort?? How would the guys help a partner who has PTSD from an assault that happened years ago? If you're uncomfortable writing that's totally fine! 💞

Soooo this got slightly out of control. I originally planned on making this a headcanon thing, but... well...

The first section is an intro to the Reader’s viewpoint, read that first and then pick your favorite guy. (Sidenote - Apologies in advance for Vergil going OOC)

Hope you enjoy!

____________

The past weighed heavy on your soul. Over the years, you learned how to ignore it and keep moving forward, but some scars never fully heal. It wasn’t a memory you spent much time dwelling on if you could help it.

You told yourself it didn’t matter, that you were over it. That person couldn’t hurt you ever again, you wouldn’t let them. You were stronger than what they did to you and never again would you surrender to them, even mentally.

Yet when your beloved partner accidentally reminded you of it, the walls shattered. The ache in your chest felt as if it was only yesterday, the tears as powerful as ever. Even after all those years.

---V---

He froze as your breathing hitched, but not in pleasure. Something was wrong, had he hurt you?

“What’s wrong, love?”

Tattooed hands left the bare flesh of your stomach to stroke your cheek. He longed to ease the pained expression on your familiar face, but you flinched back from his touch. Confusion and concern warred in his mind as he shifted away, granting you the space you so clearly needed.

The glow of the television danced across your body as the film played on, heedless and uncaring. A soft rustle accompanied your every move upon the upholstery. Only seconds before, sighs and moans filled the now silent air.

Something was terribly wrong.

“Please talk to me. Did I hurt you?” the poet begged.

You shook your head, arms and legs pulled tight to your core. “I- it’s not you.”

His heart twisted at the broken tone of your sweet voice. Restrained sniffles and shaking shoulders only heightened the sensation. He knew you far too well for you to hide your pain.

Slick fluid still coated his rapidly wilting length, the flush on his skin only barely faded. Echoes of his arousal lingered in his belly, but easing the ache was his last priority. All he cared about was restoring your smile.

“What can I do?”

At first, he thought you weren’t going to answer. By the time you finished telling the story, he wished he’d been correct.

Why did such terrible people exist? What evil needed to manifest for a person to steal your very ability to choose? How dare they, what gave them the right? He would tear them to pieces, drive stakes into their body until they begged for mercy just as you did. They’d receive the same level of compassion as they’d given you.

But not tonight.

Tonight, you needed him. His wrath could wait.

“I cannot imagine the strength required to survive that. I’m so sorry,” he murmured. “Thank you for trusting me with the truth.”

Hesitant hands reached out to you, slow enough you could easily deny his attempts to pull you into an embrace. Despite the fear and pain lingering in your eyes, you allowed it, huddling against his chest as if he could hide you from any strife.

He’d do his best.

“I’m sorry I’m like this, I thought I was past it,” you whispered. “I won’t hold it against you if you want to leave.”

You trembled in his grasp, curling inwards as another round of tears slipped free to drip from your chin. His grip only tightened, crushing you against him as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Never apologize for being in pain. Not to me.”

He paused and rubbed soothing circles across your spine, listening to your unsteady breathing. When you stopped shaking at last, he pulled back to look deep into your eyes.

“I’m not going anywhere. Now that I’ve found you, I refuse to let you go. Understood?”

You sniffled again and nodded, the first hint of a smile gracing your lips.

Nero

In the back of his mind, he always knew. The way your eyes always searched for an exit in public spaces, how you never slept as well alone, the way you saw yourself… It all hinted at the truth, but he never pressed for the whole story. You’d tell him when you were ready. In the meantime, he did his best to support you.

As you finally broke down and spoke about it, an odd sense of joy rushed through him. It was nice to know you trusted him so much.

But the feeling didn’t last. How could he ever be happy about any aspect of it?

It didn’t matter that you barely cried. It didn’t matter that your voice was steady and constant. It didn’t matter that you didn’t push him away or let go of his hand as you spoke. No, all that mattered was how none of it should’ve ever happened.

“This is so messed up…”

He didn’t know what else to say. Words didn’t seem like enough.

“I’m working through it, bit by bit,” you said. Judging by your defensive posture, it wasn’t helping.

Nero sighed and scratched the back of his neck. He knew plenty of people who dealt with similar crap. Growing up in the orphanage exposed him to the concept before he even hit puberty. It never made sense to him, wasn’t it more enjoyable when everyone wanted it? What kind of monster preferred forcing themselves on another person?

Regardless. It wasn’t the kind of thing anyone should face alone and despite his knowledge, he knew he could only do so much. He stared at the floor as blood rushed to his face. It felt strange to ask such a personal question, but considering the circumstances…

“Have you… y’know, been talking to someone?”

Your hands fidgeted the way they always did when you got nervous, picking at the seam of the bedspread. Was that because of the trauma?

“No, not for a few years,” you mumbled.

He took your hands and brought them to his lips, pressing soft kisses across the knuckles. It was important not to make you feel worse, no matter how much he wanted to scold you for not taking proper care of the issue. Support, not judgement. Understanding, not condemnation.

“I can help you find someone, when you’re ready. Anything you need, okay?”

He wrapped an arm over your shoulders and kissed the top of your head, his heart heavy and stomach twisted. What else could he do? Was anything enough?

Probably not.

But that never stopped him before.

Dante

The devilish smirk fell from his lips the moment you started crying. He’d never seen you cry before, not once. It shocked him, if he was being totally honest.

“Babe? What’s up?”

It was clear on your face how desperately you fought whatever was troubling you. What could possibly be wrong, and why didn’t you say something? You told him everything, even the stuff he didn’t want to know.

The clatter of the cue ball breaking the rack at the next table made you jump. Raucous laughter followed soon after and the red-clad man set aside his stick. Fear and shame stained your eyes; whatever was going on, this wasn’t the place.

He took your hand and pulled you outside into the chilly evening air. Overhead, the stars shone in a pitch-black sky, no moon to be seen. Wisps of cigarette smoke drifted over from where some idiot puffed away.

“Hey, get lost,” Dante commanded.

The fool almost protested, a sneer already teasing at his mouth but Dante had no patience. He focused on his blood and allowed his eyes to shift, growling at the man until he dashed away with a terrified look. That shit never got old.

“Right. Wanna tell me what’s going on, now?”

He never would’ve imagined the tale you told him, pausing here and there to sniffle or take his hand. Pressure built in his sternum with every word, glass choking him as his hands tingled. What he wouldn’t give to take away your pain and make it like nothing ever happened.

But all he came up with was a stupid joke. “Want me to go kick their ass for ya?”

You sighed and wiped your eyes, staring at anything except his face. “No, it was my fault anyway. I should’ve been more careful or worn something else. It was my mistake.”

Oh, hell no. He was not letting you get away with that bullshit. Not in a million years. Calloused hands took careful hold of your chin and gently turned it to face his stern glare.

“That’s stupid and you know it. The only person responsible is them. They chose to… do that to you. They chose to be an ass. It’s not your fault. Don’t you ever say or even think stuff like that ever again, you hear me?”

“But-“

“No.”

A petulant frown split your tear-streaked face. “But-“

“Stop it,” he insisted.

“Dante, come on-“

“I said no, damnit!”

A hint of amusement filtered through the sorrow in your eyes. It was a start. Enough for him to drop his hand and pull you into a hug, encasing you in his body in a silent promise. He didn’t know what you needed to do to heal, but he’d be there every step of the way.

Vergil

It explained so much. Why you didn’t like swimming or wearing a bathing suit. Why you hated going downtown. Why you were so hesitant with your affections. How had he not figured it out before? You shouldn’t have to relive it just so he understood.

As if he ever could.

Still, he’d been violated before. Scars still marked his otherwise pristine skin, not to mention those on his soul. He knew what it was to survive against all odds, and the knowledge that you did too deepened his respect for you threefold.

“I never knew,” he said. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

You sat on the antique couch, hands in your lap and eyes locked on the oak parquet. Throughout your tale, he’d been pacing. The living room was the perfect size for it, even with the elaborate fireplace. The motion helped to ease the pressure to do something, anything to fix this. A way to channel his energy without causing damage.

Much as he wished to sink his blade deep into the gut of the villain in your story. Not too deep; only a slow and painful death would suffice. No mercy for such a crime.

“I’m sorry. I… I didn’t want you to know how weak I am.”

His repetitive footsteps froze. You thought yourself weak, and that he would as well. Guilt and shame mixed in his mind; how could he have allowed you to not understand? A muscle in his cheek spasmed and he whirled to kneel at your feet, an earnest look etched across his regal features as he grasped your hands in his own.

“Weakness lies not in the inability to avoid pain, but the inability to withstand it. You are not weak, quite the opposite. That you haven’t given up is a testament to your strength.”

A shaky breath slipped from your lips. What else could he do or say to help? How could he make you understand that in his eyes, you had the strength of a typhoon?

“You’re wrong, I’m a coward. I’m not strong, just too broken for them to bother killing.”

First you called yourself weak, and now broken? You couldn’t possibly think so little of yourself. Unacceptable, he wouldn’t allow it. Not anymore, at least.

He knew of only one way to piece together a wounded soul. Hopefully, it would prove sufficient for your needs. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t be with you at all times.

The pommel at his waist warmed to his touch. His oldest ally and most reliable companion, the Yamato never failed him. A pang of loss ached in his heart as he untied the strings, as if he were surrendering a portion of his own soul by holding it out to your curious eyes.

He never allowed you to touch it before.

“Take it.”

Your mouth dropped open, shock tinting your gaze. “W- what?”

He huffed and forced his arms not to retreat. “I will train you, until not a soul alive can call you anything but strong. Even yourself.”

Your trembling hands wrapped around the sheathe after a long pause. Releasing his grip sent shockwaves through his body, but somehow he managed. It was worth it if it helped you.

“I- I couldn’t! It’s yours!”

A soft smile twisted his lips as the last echoes of pain faded into static. Truthfully, the arrangement was perfect. Yamato was a part of him; nothing in the world would work harder to keep you safe. If ever you found yourself in a dire situation again, escape would be child’s play.

And in a sense, as long as you carried his blade, he was at your side.

“And now it’s yours.”

He paused, another wave of agony rushing through him as you slid the blade free. “At least until I find a suitable weapon for you.”

#fanfic #ask response #dmc dante #dmc nero #dmc v #dmc vergil #my writing #tw: assault #reader insert #devil may cry

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howdoyoueventhings · 7 years

Text

Subject N3WB

@thefungiboy asked to see this fic I wrote so I said "fuck it" and decided to post it. Mostly I got the idea from Richtofen's diary entries on Call of the Dead where he mentions Subject N3WB (Takeo) was mentally broken by the experiments. It is rather... gorey in a few parts so do beware of that. I'm on mobile so I apologize for the long fuckin' post. (Also this is my first time posting a fic please be gentle with me I know Takeo might be out ooc at times) "Good morning, N3WB." A voice startled the test subject awake. He hadn't been aware that he was sleeping. He wasn't even sure if he had closed his eyes. "Are you ready for the next batch of tests? I have faith you'll respond to these ones quite well!" That voice, so cheery and light hearted he could almost forget that he was in pain. N3WB opened his mouth, his head locked in the position of staring at the floor. It took a minute before he could get anything out in the same language as the voice speaking to him. "Yes... sir..." Was all he could croak. The voice laughed merrily. "Ah, good! You're speaking now! See? You're already on your way to being a success!" A hand reached out and patted his cheek rapidly. Each little touch of the rubber glove against his face sent a numb tingle through his whole body, he nearly cried out. "Now, move with me." The voice commanded. Two hands firmly gripped N3WB's shoulders and dragged him a short distance, pinning him to a vertical surface, cold and metal. The feeling of leather straps tightening around his wrists and ankles, cutting off his ability to move, was oddly familiar. Even when he felt his shirt being opened, it was like he had done this a thousand times already. "I've found recently that if the patient is upright, I can operate better!" The voice chided. He started to wish he could look anywhere but down. He didn't want to see himself cut open but he couldn't move, his mind wouldn't let him do anything but stare. He felt the harsh metal of the scalpel and almost instantly wanted to cry. He would not, however. That would have been shameful. Two brown eyes stayed locked forward, wide with horror when he could see the workings of his insides and the strange blue liquid running through his veins. "Hm. Substance is circulating nicely. Now to see if it's numbed your pain receptors yet!" The voice giggled and suddenly a blade plunged into his shoulder. Against his own will, N3WB cried out. The blade twisted and he sobbed in pain. "Hmmm..." The voice mused, boredly. "Well, that's no good. I'd prefer to test other parts of the body but they said I had to stop stabbing subject's spleens..." N3WB, though he didn't think he was crying, felt tears slid down his chin. He felt his stomach churn and his body convulse as he gagged uncontrollably. The voice sighed heavily. "Not again..." Suddenly a hand grabbed the side of his face and forced it as far to the left as it could go just before the bile in his stomach could spill on to the floor. Instead it ran down the side of his arm and stained his uniform, leaving a foul stench. A bitter, acidic, stream oozed from the side of N3WB's mouth as his head fell forward again. "Can't wait for that to happen five or six more times." The voice grumbled sarcastically. N3WB heard himself groan. "You know, you should be thankful." The voice was sharper now as it's owner removed the knife from his shoulder. "There was a time where I would have just shoved chunks of Element 115 between your rib cages and sewn you shut like that. But apparently the survival rate of patients was getting too low, so I had to stop." The voice had changed from hate filled to almost a pout as it spoke. "You know, you're such a good listener." It mused to him with a strange fondness. "Such a shame you'll forget all of this when it's over. Or you'll die. Which reminds me..." There was the sound of shifting and footsteps around N3WB. Immediately, he was sent into a panic. Still staring at his own flayed body and fearfully anticipating his next "test" while only able to assume based on what he could hear. He was certain he was going insane. 'Don't let them see.' The thought entered his frantic mind before he could even process what those words meant. Don't let them see. Don't let them have the satisfaction. This person wanted him broken. They would just have to deal with disappointment. N3WB closed his eyes and steeled himself for whatever would come. He was ready. He would not be dishonorable. He would not be weak. "Do you know what I have in my hand, N3WB?" The voice was suddenly in his ear. The proximity sickened the test subject. "It's a sedative. And a pain killer." The voice answered. "One quick prick of this little needle, and you'll be snoozing without pain. If I sew you up after giving you this, you won't feel a thing. You'll get the best sleep of your life. Doesn't that sound nice?" He couldn't see, but he knew that whoever owned that voice was grinning now. "You only have to do one thing, my friend. You just have to tell me your name." The test subject was puzzled for a moment. What kind of request was that? The words came easier than he was expecting them to. "Masaki, Takeo-" A hand struck him across the face. "Wrong." The voice hissed. "Try again." Now he understood. This man- this thing- didn't want his name. It wanted his number. It wanted N3WB. 'Too bad.' Another rebellious thought echoed in his skull. "Masaki-" He started before he was struck again. And again. And again. He had lost count of how many times his captor had hit him. It hardly mattered, though. He was winning. Suddenly a hand grabbed his jawline and forced his head upright. Two wide, angry, blue-green eyes stared at him. Thin lips pulled back into a snarl. This was a face he recognized. A face be associated with his own pain and terror. This was "Dr. Richtofen." A door opened opened for a man in a lab coat. Richtofen groaned and let go of the test subjects face, causing his head to fall forward again. "What is it, Dr. Groph?" He hissed. "We have reason to believe there is a spy amongst our ranks." The other man replied. A dreaded silence filled the room. Finally, "I will be right with you, doctor. Just allow me to dispose of this." He was sure Richtofen was looking at him when he said this. The door closed and he heard Richtofen turn towards him. "Pity." The doctor sighed. "I was hoping to have more time with you." He was silent while his body was sewn shut. It hurt, yes, but the doctor had already gotten one cry of pain from him today, he made sure there would not be another. When that was over, the test subject was placed in a small, cramped cage. It was disgusting and dehumanizing. But he would be damned if Richtofen would see his discontent. "What's your name?" He heard one more time. Takeo scowled and lifted his head slowly, staring the doctor in the eyes and uttering in the strongest voice he could muster, "My name is Takeo Masaki." Richtofen had a bored expression when he said this. "Pity." He sighed before turning away and leaving the room. The lights turned off when the doctor was gone, leaving Takeo in the dark. "My name is Takeo Masaki." He repeated to himself. "My name is Takeo Masaki. Not N3WB."

#hoo boi #posting my first fic how about that shit #hope you like it mars #takeo masaki #edward richtofen #torture tw #gore tw???#nazi zombies #cod zombies #long post #fanfic #snake write

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kylehyde · 7 years

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You wanted to gaslight this. You think I make Pardo an innocent baby, cinnamon roll? That I somehow divert and change him from canon too much? That I’m a bad person because I can’t settle for a half-assed written character to get the ending he did but I’m supposed to just deal with that because characters should just be bad people sometimes? When I’ve seen on here that it’s okay for everyone else to modify characters and their outcomes? What makes developing on Pardo so wrong or different? How do you know my Pardo’s too ooc, because I have what, a literal handful of fans I can count by urls, of my Pardo interpretation. I don’t just throw my ideas out there to just anybody so really, how could anyone know I don’t have multiple interpretations to fit possible AUs, unless they ask with genuine interest.

I can’t have one AU where none of that killer shit happens and he’s just a cop? Not one? Not even an AU that depicts before the killings happen? Nothing? It’s hardly reasonable to apply real life police problems and personal hate to a fictional reality parallel to our own. The hotline universe is an AU; the US got into war with the Russians and lost. That’s the basis of our story and real life politics honestly can’t apply anymore because of that. You probably think I glorify real life police, well I don’t. I know very well the differences between real life cops and fictional ones and the ones I like are just that, fictional. What I don’t like is the devs knowingly making Pardo dirty just to appeal to a pseudo-leftist viewpoint and it’s so bad it worked. Just ate it up

And you really can’t just keep these private replies with your likeminded friends? A Discord club isn’t enough for you? Nope gotta put it out there in the open where everyone can see it, knowing who your mutuals are, and you know some like Pardo without this one way rhetoric that somehow only has one Hall Pass available for the FUCKED UP character award.

And you really, brought up Evan too? Oh my god. I’m gonna start basic here so like bear with me, small words. Evan’s play style mechanics come with the ability to rage out and become lethal. This is activated at the players will at any time and only stops when everyone is dead or he dies. This blatantly implies he clearly has bad anger issues and is possibly a wife beater. As a context clue, if we compare that his earlier passive gun disarms are part of his personality then there you go, so is the raging out. We can’t forget the intro to First Trial where he punches the door guard in the face, because he was impatient for being denied entry, possibly killing him. There had to be more going on at home for his wife to leave him and take the kids too so suddenly. And does he stop what he’s doing, when she leaves? Maybe, if the player chooses, but with how far he already went with it and his persistence to blackmail Pardo for info, did you really canonly believe he did stop writing at the end?

Why can’t we all agree to hate on Martin? I’d say Jake but surprisingly someone is a fan of Jake, so I’m not gonna throw him under the bus even if I don’t like him, who would have thought? But I have never seen in my 4 years of this fandom anyone express a serious interest in Martin Brown. And even if it was ‘just a movie’ for his case, dream sequences used in media are meant to symbolize a dive into the subconscious. He said himself in the interview he wanted to kill kids and shit, that he was happy to do that in Midnight Animal. He’s also visually depicted committing a rape scene in the film that has an option to be skipped, that makes it a big deal even if it’s not ‘real life’. Richard even taunts saying ‘go ahead and call it just a movie’. That doesn’t spark even a little question on credibility of what’s real and a movie? They wanted to show you what a creep he was outright and yet, silence there.

What I’m saying is, there are genuine Pardo fans in the fandom, they have not been tricked by me into liking him if that’s what you believe. They have their own reasons and it’s not any less than the opinions you have about your favorites. The problem here is the difference in number. There will always be PLENTY of Jacket, Biker, Beard, Girlfriend, Ninja Girl, The Fans, Richter, the Ghost Wolves, Henchman, Evan, The Son,, Jake, and apparently Martin defenders/fans? But every time you throw Manny under the bus for this, ego boost rally, a Pardo fan is forced into silence, and for what, so you never have to hear the potential other side and question maybe, things aren’t so bad, or at least a little bad for each faction? Being a Pardo fan since late 2014, I feel I have to defend the others who I’m sure can relate to the feeling of having their fav shamed/hated/undeserving of redemption/memed, on, for the past 2 years for being the ‘problematic fav’. This isn’t even about characterizations, it’s just about showing respect that your words are not a vacuum here, the things you say and openly post can hurt people, make them ashamed, and just dampen their day because they happen to enjoy the ‘generally hated bad man’ and they read the post you shoddily made public about him.

And again, sure the media we see is our responsibility, but this bandwagoning Pardo memeing is real, and everywhere in the fandom, it doesn’t matter who we block. It’s spread so wide we might as well leave? That’s the end game for you, isn’t it? To push out other creative talents and backgrounds, who happen to have a conflicting opinion; just like vaguing Jante over a ‘don’t tag kin/me’ caption on their art. With the ulterior reason being that Jante was a Jacket-Biker shipper at one point and literally nothing else, besides maybe they get dev recognition on their work and that’s just too much jealousy to handle, right? Jante was pushed away over a minor difference of opinion/ship choice, and it’s encouraged to mock them when they aren’t here anymore to defend themselves? What a group of role models you are.

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