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esp_dragonv2) wrote2023-01-14 09:53 pm
esp_dragonv2) wrote2023-01-14 09:53 pm
Collection of Frankenstein/Muzaka Snippets [Recovery]
Fandom: Noblesse
Summary: Muzaka had been captured.
Rating: PG
Genre: General
Word count: 1,836
Total word count: 36,126
Status: Work in progress
Muzaka had been captured. He was aware of that much when he drifted in and out of the drug haze that made his head spin and blurred his vision. He could see the IV attached above his head sometimes, next to the chains attaching him to the metal beam. There was something about the chain that burned, that didn't let him heal. Or maybe that was the drugs. Or both. He didn't have the time to work out before the bag was replaced or the next round of beatings happened. Something about collecting his blood, but even he had enough of his wits around him to know that was bullshit. Frankenstein could collect his blood easily in a few minutes with just a knife or needle. No tenderising needed.
Muzaka exhaled, flexing his hands, his transformation still not coming as he tried to roll his shoulders to ease the strain. How long had he been here? It was hard to tell when there was no window and he had no idea how long he was being affected by the drugs.
Frankenstein had to be worried. Yeah, Muzaka was sometimes late back, but it had to be days now. More than that. Maybe.
Muzaka turned his head towards the door, hearing a set of footsteps echoing closer. There was a rattle alongside each step, and that had to be the trolley they brought to carry their instruments.
Damn. It was obvious what was going to happen next.
* * *
Muzaka couldn't help but wheeze a laugh through his aching ribs.
They wanted information on Frankenstein's work.
They expected him to tell them what Frankenstein was doing.
Muzaka wouldn't tell anyone that, not after seeing how much Frankenstein did to hide it from others, to make sure they wouldn't use his findings for their own goals. The fact that Frankenstein was so open and talked about what he did to Muzaka said just how much he trusted Muzaka, and he wasn't going to betray that.
And then there was the fact that while Muzaka could listen to Frankenstein talk all day, there was no way he would even be able to describe what Frankenstein was doing to another person anyway. Frankenstein worked on so many different projects at once, it was hard to tell what new finding was for what.
Maybe he should make something up, like the fake journals Frankenstein set up, but then what? Would they just keep demanding more information?
He groaned, feeling whatever was in the IV coursing through his body. He had to try and make a plan, but his vision was getting fuzzy already...
* * *
Muzaka stirred at the sound of door creaking open. Time already? There was an alarm blaring in the background and he squinted at the figure at the door, and huh. Blond hair, and a black suit.
That could be Frankenstein, but he couldn't be sure anymore. He'd seen Frankenstein so much in his dreams already he couldn't tell if he was still dreaming or not. He'd seen Frankenstein when he'd been awake too, and what had Frankenstein called them? Illusions? Something like that.
He focused again at the cool touch at his cheek and when had Frankenstein gotten so close? Yeah, he was still dreaming. Frankenstein couldn't move that fast, and he'd never seen Frankenstein with blood splattered over his face. Not unless they'd sparred, and that hadn't happened. Obviously.
"Sorry, 'm late for dinner," Muzaka mumbled anyway, because it wasn't like he got a lot of conversation from his captors. And this could be the only way he could tell Frankenstein.
"We can have dinner once you're feeling better," the illusion said and huh, it even sounded like Frankenstein. The illusion pulled his hand away and Muzaka let out a shuddering breath at its lack. Just a dream.
He didn't fight as the world wavered and the illusion faded from view.
* * *
Frankenstein pulled out the IV needle from Muzaka's arm, jaw clenched at the ugly bruise that spread halfway up to Muzaka's shoulder. Muzaka never bruised. Not for more than a minute. What exactly was in the solution that could knock out even Muzaka's healing? Didn't matter. Especially when Muzaka's head listed to the side, his body going limp.
Frankenstein wanted to tear the metal beam out from its anchors but that could harm Muzaka more, so he slashed through the chains instead as he held Muzaka. The chains were warm to touch, and Frankenstein narrowed his eyes while he cradled Muzaka in his arms as he lowered him to the ground. When he peeled the shackles off Muzaka's wrists, they were red and raw, open sores that Frankenstein had never seen on a werewolf warrior before. They looked worse than the wounds that dotted over Muzaka's torso, like they'd ate into Muzaka's skin.
Frankenstein let out a hissing breath through clenched teeth. He expected to see the wounds close before his eyes but they stayed open, sluggishly leaking blood.
It wasn't normal, not for Muzaka.
It explained how he had been restrained and couldn't escape.
Right. "Let's get you home," Frankenstein murmured, shrugging off his jacket. If Muzaka had to be constantly drugged to keep him under if the IV was anything to go by, his healing should start to improve again, so he shouldn't bandage the wounds for now, in case Muzaka started healing into them. He wrapped his jacket around Muzaka, and while Muzaka didn't fully wake up, Frankenstein saw him take in a deeper breath, a small crease between his brow easing.
"Yes," Frankenstein said, tucking Muzaka in and lifting him up so Muzaka rested his head against Frankenstein's shoulder, "you're safe now. I'm here." No-one here would try that again. He made sure of it.
The nice thing about the Union scientists was since they were so paranoid about having discoveries attributed to themselves, they never shared anything between themselves so it was easy to destroy whatever data they'd managed to collect in one go.
The attack alarm still didn't disturb Muzaka's rest when Frankenstein left the room, and Frankenstein was thankful for that. Muzaka needed as much sleep as he could get.
* * *
Something was weird. Muzaka knew that as soon as he woke up.
His shoulders weren't strained. His whole body weight wasn't being held up by his wrists. He was laying in a soft bed, with a blanket on top of him.
There was something warm wrapped around his left hand, and when he opened his eyes, there was a very familiar head of blond hair next to him. Frankenstein. Who was seated on a chair next to the bed while Frankenstein lay on top of the blanket.
Muzaka's chest ached just seeing him again, but when he tried to say something, all that came out was a dry croak.
That was still enough to wake Frankenstein, whose grip on Muzaka's hand tightened. A huge grin spread over Muzaka's face as Frankenstein lifted his head, seeing him. Since Muzaka's left hand was occupied, he tried to reach over with his right hand, but Frankenstein stopped him from moving in a firm grip.
Huh? Something moved in the corner of Muzaka's eye, and when he glanced at it, there was an IV bag there. Tracing the tube, it connected to his right elbow. It was different from what he had in wherever he was, because this liquid was clear while before it had been green, and before, he would only regain his senses when the bag was empty, but he was awake while the bag here was still half full. He didn't have the weird aftertaste in his mouth or the fuzziness in his thoughts either. He wasn't struggling to string his thoughts together, or even process what was happening around him.
Like that Frankenstein had leaned over to gently draw him into a hug. "Welcome back."
Muzaka breathed in a deep breath, taking in Frankenstein's scent. It was like he was almost smelling it for the first time after a long time. It kinda had been. "S'ry 'm late," he croaked, his throat still refusing to work, but he did what he could.
Frankenstein chuckled softly, Muzaka feeling it vibrating through his own chest. Frankenstein kissed him before leaning back, and even doing that Muzaka felt that much colder without him. "You said that already."
He had? He remembered... Not much. Maybe Frankenstein's face close to his, but that could have been from the drug haze.
"Here."
Muzaka focused on the straw in front of his eyes, going down into a tall glass of water. Even the straw in his mouth felt weird and when he sucked, he coughed when the water hit his tongue.
Frankenstein pulled the straw away from him, studying him with a concerned look. "Too cold?"
Muzaka shook his head, the water sloshing around his mouth before he swallowed. He groaned as the coolness spread down his throat, making him even more aware how dry his throat was. He could go days without drinking and it wouldn't affect him, but this was different. "Not... Not used to it." It was much easier to talk now, but it was trying to remember how to use his tongue when it felt too thick.
Anger flashed across Frankenstein's face, his eyes narrowing and pursing his lips for a second before his expression smoothened out again. He let out a long slow exhale before bringing the glass closer to Muzaka again.
This time, Muzaka was able to control the flow better, but he still groaned as he drank. It felt so good.
"That should be enough for now," Frankenstein said, pulling the straw away and Muzaka blinked, seeing the glass was still half-full. But Frankenstein knew what he was doing.
"Go back to sleep," he continued, brushing some hair away from Muzaka's face.
Muzaka hummed at the touch, his eyes fluttering. Yeah, he'd missed Frankenstein's...well. Everything. "What about you?"
"I don't need rest as much as you." Muzaka could hear his amusement, and didn't need to look at him to see Frankenstein's smile.
"Which was why you were sleepin' on top of the bed. C'mere," he said, reaching for Frankenstein again.
"Hey, don't do that - you'll pull out-"
"Then get in here." Muzaka kept reaching, not resisting when Frankenstein stopped his arm again.
"Fine." Frankenstein's voice was soft and Muzaka rumbled deep in his chest. He hadn't done that in a while either.
Frankenstein climbed in and Muzaka's rumbling grew, feeling Frankenstein's heat, hearing him and smelling him right there.
Frankenstein was here. He wasn't an illusion.
He definitely wasn't an illusion when Frankenstein slipped an arm around Muzaka's neck, pressing up against him.
He could feel Frankenstein trembling as well and yeah. It wasn't just him being affected by his kidnap.
Muzaka leaned closer to kiss Frankenstein and then settled down, drifting off to the sound of Frankenstein's breathing, his scent surrounding him.
He was home.
Inspired by this conversation.
Summary: Muzaka had been captured.
Rating: PG
Genre: General
Word count: 1,836
Total word count: 36,126
Status: Work in progress
Muzaka had been captured. He was aware of that much when he drifted in and out of the drug haze that made his head spin and blurred his vision. He could see the IV attached above his head sometimes, next to the chains attaching him to the metal beam. There was something about the chain that burned, that didn't let him heal. Or maybe that was the drugs. Or both. He didn't have the time to work out before the bag was replaced or the next round of beatings happened. Something about collecting his blood, but even he had enough of his wits around him to know that was bullshit. Frankenstein could collect his blood easily in a few minutes with just a knife or needle. No tenderising needed.
Muzaka exhaled, flexing his hands, his transformation still not coming as he tried to roll his shoulders to ease the strain. How long had he been here? It was hard to tell when there was no window and he had no idea how long he was being affected by the drugs.
Frankenstein had to be worried. Yeah, Muzaka was sometimes late back, but it had to be days now. More than that. Maybe.
Muzaka turned his head towards the door, hearing a set of footsteps echoing closer. There was a rattle alongside each step, and that had to be the trolley they brought to carry their instruments.
Damn. It was obvious what was going to happen next.
Muzaka couldn't help but wheeze a laugh through his aching ribs.
They wanted information on Frankenstein's work.
They expected him to tell them what Frankenstein was doing.
Muzaka wouldn't tell anyone that, not after seeing how much Frankenstein did to hide it from others, to make sure they wouldn't use his findings for their own goals. The fact that Frankenstein was so open and talked about what he did to Muzaka said just how much he trusted Muzaka, and he wasn't going to betray that.
And then there was the fact that while Muzaka could listen to Frankenstein talk all day, there was no way he would even be able to describe what Frankenstein was doing to another person anyway. Frankenstein worked on so many different projects at once, it was hard to tell what new finding was for what.
Maybe he should make something up, like the fake journals Frankenstein set up, but then what? Would they just keep demanding more information?
He groaned, feeling whatever was in the IV coursing through his body. He had to try and make a plan, but his vision was getting fuzzy already...
Muzaka stirred at the sound of door creaking open. Time already? There was an alarm blaring in the background and he squinted at the figure at the door, and huh. Blond hair, and a black suit.
That could be Frankenstein, but he couldn't be sure anymore. He'd seen Frankenstein so much in his dreams already he couldn't tell if he was still dreaming or not. He'd seen Frankenstein when he'd been awake too, and what had Frankenstein called them? Illusions? Something like that.
He focused again at the cool touch at his cheek and when had Frankenstein gotten so close? Yeah, he was still dreaming. Frankenstein couldn't move that fast, and he'd never seen Frankenstein with blood splattered over his face. Not unless they'd sparred, and that hadn't happened. Obviously.
"Sorry, 'm late for dinner," Muzaka mumbled anyway, because it wasn't like he got a lot of conversation from his captors. And this could be the only way he could tell Frankenstein.
"We can have dinner once you're feeling better," the illusion said and huh, it even sounded like Frankenstein. The illusion pulled his hand away and Muzaka let out a shuddering breath at its lack. Just a dream.
He didn't fight as the world wavered and the illusion faded from view.
Frankenstein pulled out the IV needle from Muzaka's arm, jaw clenched at the ugly bruise that spread halfway up to Muzaka's shoulder. Muzaka never bruised. Not for more than a minute. What exactly was in the solution that could knock out even Muzaka's healing? Didn't matter. Especially when Muzaka's head listed to the side, his body going limp.
Frankenstein wanted to tear the metal beam out from its anchors but that could harm Muzaka more, so he slashed through the chains instead as he held Muzaka. The chains were warm to touch, and Frankenstein narrowed his eyes while he cradled Muzaka in his arms as he lowered him to the ground. When he peeled the shackles off Muzaka's wrists, they were red and raw, open sores that Frankenstein had never seen on a werewolf warrior before. They looked worse than the wounds that dotted over Muzaka's torso, like they'd ate into Muzaka's skin.
Frankenstein let out a hissing breath through clenched teeth. He expected to see the wounds close before his eyes but they stayed open, sluggishly leaking blood.
It wasn't normal, not for Muzaka.
It explained how he had been restrained and couldn't escape.
Right. "Let's get you home," Frankenstein murmured, shrugging off his jacket. If Muzaka had to be constantly drugged to keep him under if the IV was anything to go by, his healing should start to improve again, so he shouldn't bandage the wounds for now, in case Muzaka started healing into them. He wrapped his jacket around Muzaka, and while Muzaka didn't fully wake up, Frankenstein saw him take in a deeper breath, a small crease between his brow easing.
"Yes," Frankenstein said, tucking Muzaka in and lifting him up so Muzaka rested his head against Frankenstein's shoulder, "you're safe now. I'm here." No-one here would try that again. He made sure of it.
The nice thing about the Union scientists was since they were so paranoid about having discoveries attributed to themselves, they never shared anything between themselves so it was easy to destroy whatever data they'd managed to collect in one go.
The attack alarm still didn't disturb Muzaka's rest when Frankenstein left the room, and Frankenstein was thankful for that. Muzaka needed as much sleep as he could get.
Something was weird. Muzaka knew that as soon as he woke up.
His shoulders weren't strained. His whole body weight wasn't being held up by his wrists. He was laying in a soft bed, with a blanket on top of him.
There was something warm wrapped around his left hand, and when he opened his eyes, there was a very familiar head of blond hair next to him. Frankenstein. Who was seated on a chair next to the bed while Frankenstein lay on top of the blanket.
Muzaka's chest ached just seeing him again, but when he tried to say something, all that came out was a dry croak.
That was still enough to wake Frankenstein, whose grip on Muzaka's hand tightened. A huge grin spread over Muzaka's face as Frankenstein lifted his head, seeing him. Since Muzaka's left hand was occupied, he tried to reach over with his right hand, but Frankenstein stopped him from moving in a firm grip.
Huh? Something moved in the corner of Muzaka's eye, and when he glanced at it, there was an IV bag there. Tracing the tube, it connected to his right elbow. It was different from what he had in wherever he was, because this liquid was clear while before it had been green, and before, he would only regain his senses when the bag was empty, but he was awake while the bag here was still half full. He didn't have the weird aftertaste in his mouth or the fuzziness in his thoughts either. He wasn't struggling to string his thoughts together, or even process what was happening around him.
Like that Frankenstein had leaned over to gently draw him into a hug. "Welcome back."
Muzaka breathed in a deep breath, taking in Frankenstein's scent. It was like he was almost smelling it for the first time after a long time. It kinda had been. "S'ry 'm late," he croaked, his throat still refusing to work, but he did what he could.
Frankenstein chuckled softly, Muzaka feeling it vibrating through his own chest. Frankenstein kissed him before leaning back, and even doing that Muzaka felt that much colder without him. "You said that already."
He had? He remembered... Not much. Maybe Frankenstein's face close to his, but that could have been from the drug haze.
"Here."
Muzaka focused on the straw in front of his eyes, going down into a tall glass of water. Even the straw in his mouth felt weird and when he sucked, he coughed when the water hit his tongue.
Frankenstein pulled the straw away from him, studying him with a concerned look. "Too cold?"
Muzaka shook his head, the water sloshing around his mouth before he swallowed. He groaned as the coolness spread down his throat, making him even more aware how dry his throat was. He could go days without drinking and it wouldn't affect him, but this was different. "Not... Not used to it." It was much easier to talk now, but it was trying to remember how to use his tongue when it felt too thick.
Anger flashed across Frankenstein's face, his eyes narrowing and pursing his lips for a second before his expression smoothened out again. He let out a long slow exhale before bringing the glass closer to Muzaka again.
This time, Muzaka was able to control the flow better, but he still groaned as he drank. It felt so good.
"That should be enough for now," Frankenstein said, pulling the straw away and Muzaka blinked, seeing the glass was still half-full. But Frankenstein knew what he was doing.
"Go back to sleep," he continued, brushing some hair away from Muzaka's face.
Muzaka hummed at the touch, his eyes fluttering. Yeah, he'd missed Frankenstein's...well. Everything. "What about you?"
"I don't need rest as much as you." Muzaka could hear his amusement, and didn't need to look at him to see Frankenstein's smile.
"Which was why you were sleepin' on top of the bed. C'mere," he said, reaching for Frankenstein again.
"Hey, don't do that - you'll pull out-"
"Then get in here." Muzaka kept reaching, not resisting when Frankenstein stopped his arm again.
"Fine." Frankenstein's voice was soft and Muzaka rumbled deep in his chest. He hadn't done that in a while either.
Frankenstein climbed in and Muzaka's rumbling grew, feeling Frankenstein's heat, hearing him and smelling him right there.
Frankenstein was here. He wasn't an illusion.
He definitely wasn't an illusion when Frankenstein slipped an arm around Muzaka's neck, pressing up against him.
He could feel Frankenstein trembling as well and yeah. It wasn't just him being affected by his kidnap.
Muzaka leaned closer to kiss Frankenstein and then settled down, drifting off to the sound of Frankenstein's breathing, his scent surrounding him.
He was home.
Inspired by this conversation.