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peace-for-levi · 1 year

Text

his duties {ginoza.}

content warning: depictions of mental health struggles (PTSD, nightmares, hinted dissociation, anxiety) and the use of mental health medication. Psycho-pass special spoilers and end of S1 spoilers. Implied smut, but not graphically described. kindly beta-read by @mac-n-cheese-n-cabbages !! thank you bby!

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On his to-do list, he must:

1. Get ready for work and set you up for a good day.

He knows what he’s doing is wrong. As an Enforcer – a hunting dog – he already walks a very tight rope in Japanese society. Once he is no longer needed, he’d be quickly discarded.

And where would that leave you?

You didn’t exactly – or would – have the capacity to become an Enforcer.

He’s selfish, he thinks, yet he can’t stop himself from doing this. He’s lost everyone else before. His father, gone; his mother at a therapeutic facility with Eustress Deficiency. He can’t lose you, too. It all comes from a good place – you and him both acknowledge that – but the perhaps irrational, baseless thought of this coming from a place of greed gnaws at him.

Every morning is the same. The morning sunshine highlighted the room in pinks and yellows. The day was starting again, and you’d be up soon. Even for a city as bustling as Tokyo, it had its quiet, golden moments like this. He’s quick to slam his hand over the near shrieking alarm clock. Not only out of annoyance – and it was annoying – but also because you could have been sleeping.

He notes he hasn’t woken up beside you this morning. This normally meant you went to sleep on the couch in the living area.

And that normally meant nightmares had plagued your sleep.

He peels away the bedsheets, and quickly patters out to you in his bare feet (and stopping for a moment to give Dime an affectionate rub.) The frantic footsteps stop though; he doesn't intend to alarm you in case you are trying to catch up on sleep.

He spies you sitting up on the couch with a leg propped up, chin resting on your knee as you fidget. He sighs, taking in your distant and disconnected expression.

He knows you probably need more professional help than what he can offer, but he also knows that that means you being taken away from him and being detained for god knows how long until your mental state improves.

That’s where the worry of him being selfish comes from. He loves you, he needs you – you are his lifeline. But is he depriving you of better help, or would he be sentencing you to an even crueller fate?

He just wants you better, any husband would. But he doesn't know if he is making the right choice…

Sibyl could be wrong, just this once.

You also couldn’t bear the idea of being separated from Ginoza.

He walks up to you and your pupils dilate, taking in the site of your husband.

He leans down and kisses your forehead, your temple, and finally, on the lips. “Good morning, sweetheart. You okay?”

He already knows the answer though. The memories of that fateful night and the nightmares from thereafter flood your mind once again, and you cling to him, breaking down in tears.

“I know, sweetheart. I know.” He held you tighter, rubbing your back and coaxing you to take deep breaths. “I’m here. You’ll get through this, you always do.”

Next, he must:

2. Eat breakfast. Make sure you’re stable enough for him to leave the house for an extended period of time.

Breakfast was always your job between the two of you. Ginoza was a very competent cook, but he always said your breakfasts were better than his. You considered eggs, bacon and coffee, but Ginoza works long days as an Enforcer. In your days as an Inspector, you used to prefer a healthy, nourishing breakfast over a quick, convenient one.

You owe Ginoza that much, considering how much he does for you.

By the time you’re making breakfast, you’ve been injected with your necessary medication. Sometimes this involves taking anti-anxiolytics and some other form of hue medication. Sometimes you just needed to be held. Just months ago, you didn’t need this medication to make it through the morning.

With your ever-fluctuating Psycho Pass – and often into high enough levels that a Dominator would shoot at – you’re more or less house-bound. Now, you live with Ginoza in one of the dorms.

All thanks to that one mission.

On that one fateful mission, you died that night.

Or at least in the eyes of Sibyl, you did.

301. That was what your crime coefficient skyrocketed to in that building, before the bomb detonated and came crashing down. 301 was grounds for elimination.

Officially registered as dead by the reports. You weren’t anyone anymore. You weren’t even alive.

Or, at least in the eyes of Sibyl, you weren’t.

Ginoza was extremely wary of doing hue checks, if doing any at all. That would let Sibyl know you were alive and avoiding rehabilitation. But it was quite obvious your hue wouldn’t be sky-blue, and it wasn’t going to be for the foreseeable future. There was no point in scanning you.

He was your lifeline, and you’d hate to think of a life without him in it. He was your guiding light, and he was determined to get you the help you needed one way or another, to restore you to full health.

Attached to each other like shadows, you would never give up so you choose to find solace in his strength, and he would go to the ends of the Earth if it meant giving you back your peace of mind.

3. Say goodbye before work.

He never leaves work without giving you another kiss on the lips. He assures you he’ll be back by six in the evening and that you just had to hold tight until then. The day drags on, whether there is a case or not.

He hates being away from you, not knowing how your condition is. But he does keep his phone at his side in case you text, and if he needs to head back. As an Enforcer and living within the building he also works at, he is never too far away from you.

By midday, he texts to ask if you have exercised . He knows not to force it, but he has encouraged you to keep moving your body. He asks if you’ve eaten.

Yes, sweetheart :) I made an omelette and side salad, you text him.

He smiles contently.

Proud of you, my love. Six hours, I’ll be home soon.

He sends another text, itching to know.

Are you feeling better than this morning?

He chews at his bottom lip in wait. Currently he’s at a local café, thinking of swinging home to drop something off for you.

His smile falls when he reads your reply.

I’ll be fine.

So, you’re not fine now… is that what you’re saying? He blinks rapidly and swallows thickly. Six hours, he can’t clock out now.

I’ll be home before you know it. Sit tight and rest. Take a nap if you need to, or your medication if you feel you need it.

4. Begin casework assigned by the leading Inspector and finish assigned tasks.

During this time, he dons his serious expression. The ex-Inspector side comes out to play, and he is seen as reliable, pragmatic and is able to take on anything.

But he keeps his phone in his pocket, his hand clutched around it. Almost as if he is waiting for it to vibrate in his grasp.

But as the case gets more intense, he is unable to check his phone as much. Time ticks by, hours rolling ahead and it’s nearly the evening.

Four missed phone calls from you, several messages from you saying you needed him home as soon as possible.

Ginoza has fallen into the habit of holding his breath before walking into the shared space again. What way would he find you? Would you have made dinner? Could you be resting?

Or worse, could you be thrashing about in mental anguish, pleading for it all to end and for you to be put out of your misery?

These are all plausible outcomes.

Regardless of how he may find you, he’ll take you in his arms and pour his adoration for you into his kisses. He is in awe of your strength of making it through each day, regardless of what it throws at you.

There was no greater act of cowardice than detonating a bomb; the criminal was long gone by the time the MWPSB swarmed the remains of the building (mostly debris, if you were to be honest.) Being caught underneath the dusty, suffocating rubble, and when you saw nothing but red – red with the blood of your late colleagues – with the fall of the building, it was no wonder your hue got so cloudy.

You were caught up in the explosion. With arms outstretched, you tried pulling your Enforcers to safety. You saw your friends try to shield their heads. Your lungs were straining from the excess inhalation of all the dust. One of your enforcers had been right ahead of you and had managed to locate a safe – in relation to the situation – way out, but when you tried to move, you noticed your leg was caught underneath a steel beam. Friend or foe, he was still your Enforcer. You ordered him out of the building while anxiously trying to remove the steel that prevented you from moving amidst the crumbling.

The safe passage caved in, leaving you trapped in an vortex of raging heat and smouldering bricks. Fear was a beast that robbed you of your rationale, but it also left you pumped with adrenaline. You had pushed the beam off and began to move.

You heard the sound of your name tearing through the confines of the building.

Ginoza.

You had to get out, push your way out. Time slowed and when it stopped, you knew you were out of time. The ceiling caved in on top of you and your scream to your husband was snuffed out like a candle’s flame.

He found you on the sofa in your living space.

You stirred and twitched violently in your sleep, crying out and nearly shrieking.

He runs towards you and pulls you up.

“[F/n], [F/n], come now. Shh… you’re safe, you’re at home.”

He holds you in his arms and sinks to the floor with you in a heap. He holds you tight and tells you that the nightmare is over. You’re not in the building anymore. You’re not suffocating beneath the rubble. He dispels all the cruel tricks your mind is playing on you and holds you in his arms as you mourn for your sanity and weep for what has been.

“It’s me, your husband. Ginoza. Hey, hey… come on now… you got this.”

You claw at his shirt as you sniffle and groan.

Your body has left the crumbled building but your mind is still trapped there, caught in a vortex-like limbo of reality and unreality; of nightmares and normality.

On nights like these, you need more hue-stabilising medication.

When you come to, you grovel and beg for his forgiveness. You sob, wishing you could be a better – a “more normal” – wife. You want to be able to greet him with a home-cooked meal in the evening, with laundry done and perhaps a movie ready to go in the background. That’s what normal couples do, right? You sometimes speak to Shion and Yayoi (through encrypted channels) and you hear of what they do for each other.

You can’t promise that to Gino anymore.

He is quick to shush you with a kiss. “There’s nothing to forgive. This was never your fault to begin with.”

On nights like these, though he keeps it well hidden, Ginoza sinks into the depths of anger – albeit momentarily – and wants revenge on that suicide bomber who stole a part of you with him.

In times like these, he’s able to forget about the guilt he feels about depriving you of rehabilitation.

////

Nearly every night, you ask Ginoza to come shower with you. Being attached to him at the hip is grounding. He holds you in his arms like you are made of fine china and the most precious thing in the world.

Simply because you are.

Your mind and mental state was fractured over that incident and you were left to pick up the pieces, with your husband by your side.

All you have is intense anxiety and traumatic memories that could leave you rooted in fear. Logically speaking, this was to be expected and is a natural reaction to what happened. But in Sibyl’s eyes, as long as you weren’t conforming to society’s standards of being sound of mind, you were too different and too much of a threat to be ‘let loose’ in public. Your anxiety could – and probably already – has sprouted negative feelings in other people.

Ginoza doesn’t let you know that his hue has darkened in recent months since the incident. It’s through no fault of your own – he undertook all this upon becoming your husband – but it’s something he’ll take with him to the grave.

But he’d let his hue get coloured black if it meant you getting better.

On the nights you’re able and willing, he takes you to bed with him. Passionate kisses, titillating sighs and pleasured moans. Limbs becoming entangled with each other. His name slips from your tongue like a prayer.

He pulls you close to him after all is said and done and whispers sweet nothings. He tells you he loves you and he’ll love you in any state you present yourself to him. He tells you everything you need to hear and means it all. It’s always genuine.

When you fall asleep in his arms, he can breathe easy knowing you made it through the day.

He falls asleep dreaming of you, the bomber he’s been researching and lastly, of a life where you can return to society.

Once again:

Get ready for work and set you up for a good day.

He’s quick to slam his hand over the near shrieking alarm clock. Not only out of annoyance – and it was annoying – but also because you could have been sleeping.

And the day starts again…

the way i condensed an old ginoza x oc fic idea into 2.4k is not smthn i was proud of but the ginoza brainrot is REAL. likes are appreciated but reblogs put a biiiig fat smile on my face ! :D

#cece; writing #psycho pass #psycho pass ginoza #ginoza nobuchika #ginoza #ginoza x reader #ginoza nobuchika x reader #psycho pass x reader #kogami shinya #sibyl #psycho pass fanfic

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