#otto octavius fanfic
TW: mentions of blood and death: Slight belly kink and body worship: Teacher/student trope
{Chapter Fifteen}
The light seemed to burn a brighter crimson as it studied you.
All the moisture in your mouth evaporated as you slowly began to realize what exactly the thing was outside your window.
Almost in response to this realization, the claw moved away from its splayed position on the window, positioning itself on the lip of the frame.
It was trying to get in.
Despite the locks being done, the window stood no chance. With just a mere second of struggle, the locks buckled under the pressure and snapped off. You only could watch in horror as shards of metal and plastic flew across the room with an ominous crack.
In an instant, a claw pounded the floor on either side of you, bending and twisting to enable its master to enter.
You could only gravel at what you saw.
The doctor’s face was no longer alight with that gravitating warmness you were so familiar with. He looked older in a way; the unfamiliar pursed firm expression seeming to be the culprit for this change. In some hopeless effort to find comfort, you tried to look for an explanation in those dark eyes of his.
You were only met with the cold image of your reflection through his circular shades.
He looked down at you like some displeased dark malevolent god and even in your fear, you couldn’t help but submit out of respect. And clothed in his all too familiar trench coat only emphasized the magnitude of his imposing physique, as well as your inferiority.
Despite all the questions and emotions that screamed in your head, you couldn’t help but cringe seeing the jagged burn scars across his torso. It looked excruciating.
Even with lowering himself to the floor, he still looked down on you.
“You are going to help me.”
Like the harsh nip of the wind coming through the now opened window, you couldn’t help but flinch.
That was not a question: That was a demand.
His tone was so unfamiliar to you, it almost made you wonder if it was really him who was speaking.
Despite your fear and confusion, you eventually found your voice.
“Dr. Octavius, I-I was so worried. I was going to your demonstration, I was l-late! I’m sorry, I just. A-Are you okay? Is everything o-okay? I-I’m just worried – you’ve just changed a-and-”
Like a crumbling dam, you just couldn’t stop the flood of words coming out of your mouth. You just wanted to understand. You just wanted to understand what had happened to him.
In your rambling, he merely spared you a disinterested glance through his tinted glasses.
Your questioning was starting to grind on his already thin nerves.
“It would be in your best interest to stop asking stupid questions.”
His tone was low and threatening, dark eyebrows furrowing with his narrowing eyes. This was a warning shot and next time he would not be so generous.
It was like a slap to the face, but it had its desired effect.
You instantly shut your mouth.
It was like he didn’t even know you.
To him you were nobody.
How could he? After all the moments shared between the two of you, how could he treat you this way? You would have vocalized your angered confusion more if it wasn’t for the fact you were utterly terrified of the doctor. To think at a time you could have said there was no safer place to be than with Dr. Octavius.
But all you could feel now was the sickening truth that in this state, he could easily (and possibly would) kill you.
You dumbly get up from your position on the floor and silently wait for his next orders, hoping that if you cooperate he would just go.
To think not even an hour before you would have given anything to see that he was well again.
This seemed to please the doctor somewhat, his expression of dominating disdain softening slightly.
“Give me any pain medication you have and grab your first aid kit.”
Concise and brazenly to the point.
The fact that he simply assumed you had a first aid kit made you all the more thankful that you did indeed have one. What would have happened to you if you didn’t?
You paid no mind to the trembling that had taken over your body as you carried out what he had asked.
Maybe that was your way of trying to alleviate the agonizing emotions that were at war in your head.
In disgust you knew deep down you still loved this man.
You supposed that’s what truly made this entire situation so unbearable…..
Scooping every last bottle of painkillers you could find, you grabbed your first aid kit from under the sink in your bathroom.
You couldn’t bear looking at yourself in the mirror as you left.
Being discontent was staying suspended in the middle of your room, the doctor had moved to your desk chair, actuators instantly whiping towards you as you approached their master. This time you knew you heard menacing hissing.
As you tried to find the words to say you had gotten what he asked, you quickly realized no words would come out.
Luckily, the doctor seemed too impatient to wait for any sort of verbal confirmation.
“I have burns on my stomach that need attending to.”
As much as how short he was with you hurt, you reasoned that it would be worse if wasn’t it. At least this way you could more easily disconnect yourself.
Getting to work, you bite down on your now trembling lip.
His chest was bare, and it’s condition was so much worse than it was at a distance. Eyebrows furrowing, the weak feeling of sympathy bubbled to the surface of your turbulent sea of thought.
To think that before you would have jumped at the possibility of feeling his bare skin underneath your fingertips, but now, it only brought you heart ache.
Why? Why was he doing this to you?
It felt as if your heart was being crushed inside your chest. Or more accurately, the doctor had ripped it out and had the honor of crushing it himself.
As your shaky hands wrap the gauze around his irritated chest, you couldn’t help but let out a choked sob.
Instantly you felt the doctor’s eyes on you, tentacles joining their master in his glowering.
“Be quiet.”
With all the chattering voices in his head, your crying only worsened his already painful headache.
And with that, your crying instantly stopped.
Words did not describe how terrified you were.
With your own eyes you had witnessed this man’s creation slaughter five innocent people, and in this moment, you were becoming less and less sure that it was entirely their doing.
You could taste the metallic twinge of blood on your lips as you bit down harder.
You tried, you really tried to be good and do as he asked.
“I’m s-s-sorry, I-I’m sorry, I’m s-sorry! I d-didn’t mean – I-I’ll be quiet I p-promise! I-I’m scared I-I’m really scared. O-O-Octavius I’m s-s-scared, I–”
In an instant you felt the crushing pressure of metal around your throat.
Hands flying to angry claw, you could only squeeze your eyes shut.
This was not real. None of this was real. This wasn’t real.
For a split second the doctor’s face softened with surprise, and even slight fear.
It only lasted a second.
“Don’t be sorry. Be better.”
Each sneered syllable cut into you like a knife.
Eventually you were carelessly dropped to your feet and if it wasn’t for the overwhelming fear that moment had been instilled within you, you would have dropped to the ground in a limp heap.
You finished dressing his wounds in complete silence.
As the minutes dragged on, the man sitting in the room became less and less familiar to you. Maybe it was a way of coping, but you just couldn’t let yourself believe that this man was your Dr. Octavius.
However wishful as it was, it was still only thinking, and no amount of thinking changed the undeniable fact that this man was indeed Dr. Otto Octavius: Your love and idol.
There was a stranger in everyone, and it was about time you started recognizing the stranger in him if you had a hope of getting out of this alive.
