Observed object 'itrapped' x observer 'reader'
I like this article quite a bit, so I moved it over, although I said I wanted to write the setting, but I haven't written it until now
In conclusion, itraped needs you, and you need itraped as well，Stupid Bad Guy Returns for a Limited Time
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No matter what, Itrapped can always find you accurately. You've searched your entire body and even checked inside, but there's nothing abnormal. There's nothing in your body except that damn poison.
You grit your teeth and say, your voice trembling as you force out, "Let me go." Your hands struggle to move the hand controlling you away, but in your current state, it's all in vain. The poison has deprived you of your strength.
Itrapped's elbow is pressed against your throat, pinning you against the tree trunk. Your breathing becomes increasingly difficult.
"Was I really throwing a tantrum last time? You probably wouldn't understand," Itrapped says slowly, easily controlling your body that's trying to break free. Then he continues, "You thought I was a bit annoying back then, and now I have the same feeling..."
While talking, he finds the small dagger given to you from your waist, his tone as casual as if in a normal conversation, and he even reminds you with concern.
"Calm down. There are a lot of glass shards around here. I don't want you to get any extra injuries."
Without warning, you are suddenly thrown to the ground, your back hitting the ground with a sharp pain.Just as you were about to get up, a glint of cold steel flashed at the edge of your vision. He used the dagger to slit the palm of his hand, and blood rushed out of the wound in a desperate escape.
You feel the weight of his body as he presses you down directly, one hand controlling your hands and restricting your movements. "Alright," he lowers his head, the blue earrings swaying, glinting in the distant light. His shadow pins you beneath him.
"Just as you wished, I don't want you to die either." At the moment you're about to speak, he aligns the wound with your mouth, forcing the escaping blood into your lips. Even if you quickly close your mouth to resist, some of the blood still slides down your tongue and into your throat. It's like when you're drowning in water and someone suddenly pulls you back or gives you oxygen. In that moment, fear and relief interweave, creating an inappropriate sense of security in your body.
If you had known things would turn out this way, you would never have entered that damned observation room that day.
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You handed Itrapped over to someone else for about three days because of someone else's request, and happily told that person, "If you succeed, I won't have to work overtime, so I hope you can do your best." But things didn't go as planned. After only two days, you were called back. After quickly getting up to speed with the work, you entered the separated work area. Itrapped was in the observation room, separated by just a layer of glass.
The structure of the observation room was very simple. There was a large piece of tempered glass on the front, with a communication hole and a delivery port below. Inside the room, there was only a bed, a table, and a ceiling lamp. The average temperature in the room was lower than the average temperature. On the table was a stuffed doll that didn't match Itrapped's image at all, and there was no camera.
It was exactly like the photo in the file.
His legs were crossed, and his golden hair casually hung on both sides of his cheeks. His long hair at the back of his head was half-tied into a ponytail. Only one white glove outlined the lines of his fingers. The ice crown sparkled under the light, casting a blue shadow. Two blue earrings swayed, indicating that he had just moved.
The upper half of his face was covered by a black unknown substance, and his features were not visible. On the left side of that substance was a simple red eye. His face, limbs, mouth, and that eye were the standards for observing his emotions.
Itrapped was sitting on the edge of the bed, with an open notebook beside him. His other hand was holding a book and reading. He was twirling a pen between his fingers.
Beside him was a shelf with transparent medicine bottles hanging on it. The end of the infusion tube was connected to the back of his hand. The medicine bottle was empty, but the needle was still inserted.
You didn't deal with that yet, thinking that there would be someone else to handle it later, so you just made some routine records and gave the usual greeting.
"I heard you've been causing a lot of trouble recently."
You were also playing with the pen in your hand, constantly pressing the black ink into the log sheet, leaving black ink stains. Well, this wasn't really a greeting.
You looked up and met that red eye, which was quietly staring at you.
The only response you got was a "click" sound from in front of you. The pen's tip was pressed down and then popped back up, a lazy response to you. Sometimes when he didn't want to answer questions, he would do this.
That pen was taken by him the first time he entered the observation room and claimed it as his own. He said it was a souvenir. Trapped loved to play with that pen.
But that stuffed doll was something you got from a claw machine and gave to Itrapped just for fun. He didn't show much reaction. Sometimes he would hold that doll and imitate your tone of voice to amuse and tease you.
"You should have picked more observers to your liking instead of keeping a close eye on me. There were many people behind me at that time."
Itrapped stopped what he was doing and replied, "I don't like you giving me to other observers. I'm not an object."
Then he continued, "Are you satisfied with this answer?"
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The list of other subjects under observation has the names of many observers written below their numbers and names, all taking turns or working together. However, under the name 'Itrapped', there is only one observer, [reader]. Logically, he should have at least two people alternating to record, collect information, and verify accuracy, just like the other subjects. The truth is that Itrapped doesn't obey other observers, and coercive measures are ineffective. He is unwilling to reveal any more information about himself, and since he didn't show much ability when captured earlier, there is a strong desire to study him. As a result, one observer after another was replaced. He's really a picky guy. Eventually, only you caught his eye and were chosen as his sole observer. The work process has been very smooth. Sometimes Itrapped even provides you with true information about himself and situations where he benefits unilaterally, allowing you to gain quite a few advantages. So now your relationship with him is very good.
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You frowned. "What kind of answer is that? Are you throwing a tantrum?"
"I'm not a keeper, but an observer. I can't keep watching you all the time. You can't be like a pet, I-012."
"Oh? So you're getting annoyed with me." He smiled slowly.
I-022 is the serial number of Itrapped. You also have a corresponding serial number. In the company, those of higher status than you usually call you by your serial number, while those of equal status call you by your name. The same applies to the observation subjects. However, after you got familiar with him, you seldom called him by his serial number. You only did so when Itrapped did something that caused you trouble.
"I really don't like them adding extra stuff to me. I have to stay here for even longer than before," you complained, letting the file board drop from your hand.
"There's nothing we can do about it, right?" Itrapped tapped his knee with his fingertips, a hint of amusement in his voice. "A dog wags its tail to show its emotions, but they can only see what I want them to see. If I say I'm very sad now, will you write it down?"
"Is that why the answers on the questionnaires for the past two days have been so strange?"
"I'd rather spend my time with you."
You stared at him for a few seconds, wanting to say something back, but the words died in your throat. You should have ended this meaningless conversation earlier. You lowered your head and refocused on the log sheet in your hand.
The air seemed to stand still for a few seconds. Itrapped could tell you didn't want to continue, so he raised his hand and gently waved it. "Can you take this off now?"
Following his hint, you finally remembered the IV needle. You glanced at the time; no one had come to deal with it yet.
"I'll find someone to handle it for you."
But Itrapped quickly stopped you. "You have the knowledge for this, don't you? Why bother?"
You took a deep breath, your eyes filled with dissatisfaction. Because he wanted this now, you could only do as he said, telling yourself it was part of your job.
"If anything goes wrong, you're responsible."
With that, you picked up the medical kit and used your access card to open the isolation door, fully entering Itrapped's space.
"You should be happier. I'm very happy now."
You didn't respond to his words. You walked over to him and squatted down, ordering him to place his hand flat in front of him. Then you began to remove the transparent medical tape.
"Do you know? You can do things they can't."
His voice came from above. You replied casually, "Please, I'm just the lowest-level person. Even if something goes wrong, no one will care."
Then you quickly pulled out the needle and pressed a cotton swab against the bleeding area, indicating for him to hold it himself.
He didn't take the cotton swab but leaned down slightly and whispered in your ear, his voice close to your skin. "What I mean is, you're a special person."
"Wha..." Before you could finish, the cold air around him enveloped you. His hand lifted your chin, and as their lips touched, something was being passed into your mouth. The warm liquid slid down your tongue and into your throat bit by bit.
You began to try to break free, wanting to push him away. You didn't know what he was feeding you, but you felt it wasn't good. Itrapped just held you in place.
Your thoughts paused for a moment as the black substance on his face began to become transparent, revealing the hidden face beneath.
He slowly opened his eyes and fixed his gaze on you. His pale blue eyes hung before your vision, touching your consciousness and drawing it into a quiet lake.
Before you could react, you tried to look away, but your body betrayed your mind, as if pulled by an invisible thread, dragging you back into the water. Those eyes, like precious gems, with their unique and captivating color, the light influencing the hue of the irises. The light from outside the glass window squeezes into the gap between you and him. One eye is a clear blue, like the surface of a lake in the early morning, while the other is dim, a bottomless deep pool.
The panic in your heart inexplicably calms down at this moment.
Your mind gradually begins to empty.
Right... What did you want to do? Oh, yes, push him away.
Huh? Wait, why did you want to do that?
This thought just surfaces, creating a slight ripple, then silently vanishes into the water, sinking to the bottom of the lake.
What did you want to do again?
Those thoughts dissolve one after another in the water in an instant.
You completely forget what you were going to do.
The last trace of struggle in your mind fades away, followed by a complete submersion.
Calmly, your consciousness floating on the lake surface slowly sinks to the bottom, your breathing begins to ease, enveloping all your senses until you lie on the soft sandy bed, finding a sense of security in the embrace of the lake water, and suffocating in that safety.
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You gazed at your own eyes reflected on the deep lake surface.
Those eyes had lost their focus, empty and hollow.
Nothing existed in your mind, only a blankness and an irresistible sense of dependence.
The corner of his mouth curved up slightly, and his gaze finally shifted away from yours, leaving your lips.
When he lowered his eyes, his eyelashes cast a faint shadow on his face. Then he turned his head, and you could feel the warmth of his breath brushing past your cheek and lingering by your ear.
"Relax," his voice was soft, as gentle as the lake water, soothing. "Our interests are the same..."
"Until I betray you." Even saying such words, you didn't care. As long as it could keep you in the lake water, it was fine.
"So, take me away, 'Number'." "
If you are still an employee now, the higher-ups will surely be glad that you have discovered this. Itrapped is toxic. His own blood is toxic, and it is also the antidote. After the bewitchment ends, this can be used to continue controlling the bewitched person.
The palm leaves your mouth, and the sticky, rusty taste keeps invading your lungs. Your chest rises and falls violently, like a drowning person just pulled out of the water.
Itrapped's hand holds your face, fixing your gaze on him.
"Look, you're still alive."
His fingertips gently wipe away the bloodstain at the corner of your mouth.
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If you are still an employee now, the higher-ups will surely be glad that you have discovered this. Itrapped is toxic. His own blood is toxic, and it is also the antidote. After the bewitchment ends, you can use this to continue controlling the bewitched person.
His palm leaves your mouth, and the sticky, rusty smell keeps invading your lungs. Your chest rises and falls violently, like a drowning person just pulled out of the water.
Itrapped's hand holds your cheek, fixing your gaze on him.
"Look, you're still alive."
His fingertips gently wipe away the blood at the corner of your mouth. The movement is almost tender, yet it makes your body numb. Right now, you can only see his glowing red eyes, slightly narrowed, full of mockery.
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