'I'll cut off these wings so you can no longer fly' for my favorite clown Nikolai and the yandere prompts? >w<
Since everyone liked it so much, here’s part two to this fic!
tw. confinement, implied abuse.
Nikolai Gogol
Nikolai wasn’t a complete monster – he kept your cage clean at the very least. ‘A sick bird can never sing pretty songs’ he’d always explain in a sing-song voice, as if that would raise your spirits. He never expected it to, but he insisted on trying like the good owner he was. Some would say he’s nothing more than a delusional mad man, but he liked to think of himself as a wonderful bird owner; mad men don’t take great care of animals, now do they?
“Malen'kaya ptichka moya (my little bird), pray tell”, he mused, eyes squinting with delight at how you jumped whenever he snuck behind your cage. “When do you plan on giving up?”
Heart hammering against your chest, you squeezed your eyes shut and tried to calm yourself, nearly on the verge of hyperventilating. He was hardly scary, but being locked in this cage – trapped in a dimly lit room which fucked with your sense of time – was starting to chip away at your sanity.
“And why would I tell you that, clown?”
“Fufufu, your responses are as scathing as always I see.” His laughter was beautiful, far more mellow than the other times he’d talked down to you. Was his patience wearing thin? Gracefully, he sauntered to the front of your cage and stood menacingly tall. “That determination of yours is certainly commendable, but I can see it dying out with each passing day. How long will my little birdy last, I wonder?”
“Dying out? You’re as much a clown as you are blind.” You threw a glare over your shoulder. “The only one that will die is you when the ADA finds me.”
“Find you?” His laughter was boisterous this time, hardly beautiful and mellow like before – you were always so entertaining! “My dear, it’s been over a month! You seem to forget that your wings are clipped, yet you still insist on flying toward freedom.”
A month? It… it couldn’t have been that long – he had to be lying. Although you had no sense of time, no sense of reality, while locked away like some animal, a month couldn’t have passed. Ranpo should’ve deduced your whereabouts by now; hell, Dazai should have seen this coming from a mile away.
And yet, you were starting to believe the Russian’s words. Had they really given up on you?
Your voice was marginally more hesitant than before and Nikolai didn’t fail to notice the way your light threatened to go out. He’d never miss the moment you finally broke, after all.
“…Humans aren’t as weak as you seem to think, Gogol”, you spat in attempt to call his bluff, but the way he stared at you so intently, as if slowly picking you apart, made you avert your eyes.
Weakness. You were finally showing weakness, and by god was Nikolai on cloud nine.
“Is that so? How curious.” Clicking his heels together, he twirled theatrically, cape billowing behind him like a ringmaster about to start his show. When he faced you once again, there was a pair of scissors in his hands and a sadistic smile on his lips.
“Then I’ll have to cut off those wings so you can no longer fly.”
Their awakening was painfully dense. The long, luscious midnight blue locks decorated in specks of pale golden flakes leads his head to gravitate downwards to the ground, the weights pulling at the eyes from a hundred years of slumber, and the guilt clawing vigorously from the inside after hearing upon the inevitable news - you know, not without admiring the newly found aesthetics they’d been provided with through the reflection off the crystal clear waters. They don’t seem to mind the changes of their - the body. In fact, dragging down their former self to praise the all new and improved Phosphophillyte is proof enough to know the carrier does not miss an inch of familiarity.
In consequence for their body being so friable … they’d eventually shatter off and are replaced in all sorts of alloys and Lapis’s head, leading to drastic alterations in personality, strength, and questionable morals. Given that they are no longer weak, sacrificing a huge chunk of who they once were to prevent anymore losses is ultimately a defeat in itself. The gem will not risk anyone else, they cannot, or their conscious will ensemble themselves over and over again - physically and mentally. Antarcarite, Ghost-Quartz, all could’ve been easily saved if they weren’t so incompetent earlier ... Still, they lied when admitting how strong they were to the new juniors in order to indirectly shoo them away.
Same old same old, others questioning their fortitude and others face-palming in agony ... there’s a trace of Phos alright. exchanging thoughts with Lapis sprouts up many contemplation and conclusions ... something is obviously not right between Sensei and the Lunarians. Left to fight off more sunspots - more disturbances, they accidentally stumble upon your easily-fractured self. Naturally, gems came to life during their peaceful slumber for recovery ... Some being the reborn of once fallen soldiers, and others being newly discovered ones, it felt almost right to refer to you as a reincarnate of their old self.
You’re beyond pitiful at a hardness level of three, and the coordination akin to a crippled beast, it hurts to even glance at your trembling form without being reprimanded of the past - shattering by the mere brush, stumbling over hefty words, and causing similar trouble as they did decades ago.
They see the appeal.
Phos is drawn to the naivety and purity as a result of losing that side of them. gently easing their way into your life, it’s not overbearing - but it’s certainly strange coming from a senior. They offer multitudes of advice, well amount of protection, profound promises, and a bit of company despite their busy schedule - but heaven’s forbid, you are never let along their patrols. No matter how cute you looked begging for confirmation, it’s always been a stern no - they couldn’t bare to lose you, not now, not ever. A total relief to come back and pull you into their grasp as gently as can be, wanting to physically feel that you are still here and not at the moon’s reach in shambles. But can your relationship really bloom when they are sent away for the stars - ‘mistakenly,’ with you trying to reach out for them in desperate measures as they are left to sorrowfully glance at your grief-stricken self by a smile.
This was all according to plan.
...
Their arrival was understandably unexpected. Craving your presence and bright persona they are no longer afflicted, they longed for you but … Phos is also genuinely conflicted to have you fling yourself at them upon sight - you always disregarded how delicate you are by nature. Shouldn’t you be somewhat angry? Confused on how they came back safely with just a few alterations in looks and intentions. How they weren’t even harmed in the process? Alas, they are ready to embrace you in a gentlemanly manner ... mood visually lifted up at your strange, but certainly welcomed affection. You must’ve been so lonely without them, as they did without you.
Though, there is not much time to spare for their time here. Vanishing, and then reappearing. shuffling between the rest of the gems to give them a small push, let the burning curiosity seethe into their soul until they are unable to hold back. They let them know they are free to team up with them if they pleased. You on the other hand … you’re the emotional support, if you are not in their grasp … They couldn’t even possibly fathom how their mentality could handle the thought of it once reaching back for their goals. And so Phos joins you for one lonely night.
I:
Settling under the sparse stars as the grass tickles your bottom, your focus gravitated towards the blindingly bright moon - admiring the way it easily lulls you into a somber nap, your eyelids weighing down despite being told to specifically not be out so late at night without supervision. On the fine line between conscious and unconscious … it is not until someone takes the empty space beside you, their calm voice breaking the tranquility of your last night on earth.
“You can’t sleep there, being adorable and vulnerable will provoke the Lunarians even more, you know.”
Your eyelashes fluttered, turning your head gallantly to face the pursuer of your existence ...
“Beautiful night isn’t it? Stars accompanying their own, and the isolated moon caught up in between them ... Correct me if I am wrong, but wouldn’t this be a nice time to ask ... if you’ll join me up there, [Gem],” he breathes in softly, but his tone stands tough.
The snowy white of the synthetic pearl reflects off the gorgeous moonlight, gazing into your disoriented soul intensely … Hints of apathy swirling in the depths of them. There’s an unsettling bump in your throat upon his deadening stare. The statement is straight to the point … No hesitations whatsoever, but the questions roaming through your mind hadn’t ceased, though proliferated. Balling your clammy hands, your mouth opens up for a half-assed answer.
“Phos ... I -“
But he shuts you down by clamping his hand over your mouth, a small shush following a suit.
“The moon, I’ve questioned and pondered for too long now - about the Lunarians, Sensei, and more subjects he refuses to disclose, but I don’t have to anymore. I cannot. Come with me to the moon and a few others, and I’ll promise you a life free of stress and worry ... Somewhere, where all of us could thrive in.”
You don’t question him, or rather - you aren’t given the opportunity to when a smile resurfaces, patting your head gently as he caves in by slinging those golden alloys over your shoulder. You are left to ponder in your contemplation even longer, enjoying the silence that falls in between you.
Your ... awaited answer wouldn’t really matter.
He’d come into your room on a later time to kidnap your unconscious body and regroup with the rest of the curious gems ... this will be his second ascension ... only this time, with you.
Phos is understandably cautious of everything, anything can harm you - anything. Upon arriving onto Lunarians domain with you tucked safely in their arms, unwillingly or not, there’s already a fine deal between them and Aechmea ... As long as they don’t hurt the rest of the gems, all should go well. Though the moment they even dare to place even a hand on you is where they are crossing the line, they’d blow up the base in a heartbeat. Whilst everyone else was able to explore and simmer down their boiling curiosities, you’re the unlucky one of the bunch - forced away in their assigned room for better measures.
Paranoia, concern, and an alarming rates of headaches swarm their head at the thought of you not being safely tucked away in the room ... So you aren’t able to wander, let alone - leave the room at all. you’ve only left maybe once, but even that was a blur. Being locked away and having bottled up all your desires and boredom surely made you more restless for contact. Your eyes light every time you hear the clicking of the door being unlocked and catching a glimpse of the only being you’re allowed to see.
They’re as equally happy to see you too.
Unfortunately, their limited time with you had always came to an end. Being called down to the lobby was the reason why they’d have to painfully withdraw themselves from you out of reluctance. Though you’d pull on the hems of their uniform as an act to get them to stay a little longer than usual tonight. You’d have to spill your true thoughts for once.
II:
“Phos ... I ... um, will you s-spare me a minute. I ...” Your voice got strangely smaller as you spoke, fiddling around with the cloth right between your fingers. Eyes constantly darting from your hands and down to your feet nervously. having seek refuge for a few days now, you’ve always kept that same ball of energy much to his surprise ... Getting used to his arbitrary authority over you after a few encounters. He’d look forward to seeing you as he knocks on the door firmly, adjusting his foreign outfit, and hair habitually ...
So seeing you simmer down, unable to meet his gaze meant one thing.
You were scared.
So was he.
“You were saying now? I couldn’t hear you the first time, my apologies.” Lips curving in for a small smile, he’d try and soothe your worries away by letting those cold hands roam down to your neck, squeezing them tight for reassurance. You shut your eyes tight. You already knew what Phos’s reply would be, but seeing the same white walls upon hours and trying not to let the isolation get to your head made your head throb.
You had to tell him, and he’d await patiently for an answer.
Ten seconds, thirty seconds, forty five seconds - you’d eventually find the feigned confidence to speak.
“… W-Well, please ... can’t I be out with the rest? Can’t I explore a little? It’s ... unfair.”
Your desperation is apparent. The way your shoulders faltered as you pleaded, head ducked down finding the ground much more interesting, voice gradually getting weaker as you let out your true thoughts on the subject.
...
Sadness tugged at his heart ... he knows what you mean by that but ...
He has to hold his ground, for you and your safety.
“You’re weak, unable to protect yourself or your loved ones - that is why I come into place, [Gem]. I’ve lived and suffered through that once - I know how you felt. Trust me. Without me, you are absolutely nothing and have no use to me whatsoever.”
Pause, patting your head gently, he smiled ... languid - and just as hurt as you could ever be.
“However, that is fine. You are your own being and nothing can ever replace even a shard of you. I must keep you here until it all ends, until we have come into an … agreement - until I am allowed the chance of finally having eternal happiness, with you.”
BSD Gogol: It's a game, wicked and crooked and rigged, but oh it was fun, fun, fun to see you try to win.
tw. confinement.
Nikolai Gogol
It’s a game, wicked and crooked and rigged – but oh it was fun, fun, fun to see you try to win. Like a flightless bird desperately trying to find hope in song, only to realize it is voiceless – all hope was destroyed the moment he locked you in a bird cage.
Your defiance could only last so long, he surmised as he watched that glorious fire in your eyes grow stronger. Your cage – as metaphorical as it was physical – was decorated to the nines with various toys. It was large enough to comfortably fit you along with plenty of bedding and toys, yet you were none the more happier. Rather, you’d spent the last few hours analyzing every inch of the metal enclosure in search of an exit or crack Nikolai had overlooked as unlikely as it was.
Your foolish efforts were entertaining, but he couldn’t help but wonder why you hadn’t given up yet.
“Why do you insist on wasting energy like this, malen'kaya ptichka (little bird)? Escaping is a fever dream!”
You paid him no mind, much to his displeasure – though he was a master of not letting it show on his face. He approached the cage and fluidly stooped down to your level, peeking through the bars in an almost condescending manner.
“Why won’t you sing for me, little bird?”
“What bird would sing for a monster?”
Your answer was snappy, but he delighted in your emotional response. How long had it been since you even cared to utter a word to him? Perhaps you were finally warming up to your new home! Oh he could hardly contain his excitement.
“Monster? My, you do hurt me so. It is of no use to blame the looking glass if your own face is awry. You’re just as monstrous as me, my dear.”
You finally looked at him, eyes still holding that beautiful fire he adored. “Perhaps, but I will never be a monster like you. People like you belong in hell, and I’ll see to that myself.”
“Is that so? Then be my guest and do escape however you see fit.” His lips curled into a smile of unadulterated adoration as he lovingly stroked your cage bars, keys loosely held between the gloved fingers of his other hand. “I’d love to see you drag me to hell – that is if I don’t break you first~”
“Take out your frustrations on me, I can handle it!”
Atsushi’s voice was shrill with worry and shame – how could he have been so blind? Of course you’d be upset… no, depressed that he’s confined you to such a small space with him as your only form of human contact. How could he have been so stupid? He hardly wanted to be with himself.
Your eyes seemed to elicit some light – hope – at his words, and despite himself, he felt an inkling of happiness, happiness he immediately snuffed out convinced he didn’t deserve it.
“Will you be happier, [Name]? Please… p-lease tell me how to make it b-better. Just… just please don’t ask to leave. I-I could never do that…”
That hopeful light wavered, replaced by something far darker – far more sinister. And yet, he could only feel absolute delight at the prospect of you showing any emotion other than sadness and anger.
“With pleasure, monster.”
Your words should have hurt, but he felt more relief than he’s ever felt – even when your hand resounded against his cheek, even when your knees lurched into his stomach, even when you laughed with a sadistic elation he’d never heard leave your lips before.
It hurt, but even that couldn’t compare to how happy he felt. Being used as a punching bag for your frustrations was all he could ever hope for if you’d never surrender your love to him.
