fic! (Immi's annual holiday-inappropriate Zombie Cultist Christmas story :D)
This is early. Usually I post ridiculously WTF screwed up fic on Christmas Day, not early Christmas Eve. But I'm still unemployed and my day to day schedule is so much a wreck it's amazing that I'm actually aware that it's Christmas Eve, so whatever. I'll do it early.
So, for the third year running. Here is random fic about Zombie Cultists being generally horrible and torturing people. Although it's not Dead!Crow this year. This year we have something I have been talking about doing forever okay, almost a year. Which would be Zombie Cultist!Pearson grabbing Bolger and keeping him around to torture and also for sex probably (although there is not actually any sex in this unless you wish to imagine it). This follows with my alternate ridiculous headcanon where they're actually around the same age. Pearson/Bolger. R for violence, dubious issues of consent (although, once again, no actual overt sex)
[YGO is not mine, and Poet is awesome and gave me a name for Pearson's hellgod which, as we decided at some previous point, would be the heron.]
--------------------
Overall the other Dark Signers simply believe he's crazy (even Kiryu, which he supposes must make him a very special and entirely obvious sort of crazy.) Rudger insists it's potentially troublesome, Misty simply thinks it's tacky, Kiryu can understand wanting to see someone suffer but can't quite grasp the concept of withholding his own satisfaction for as long as Pearson intends to drag this out, and Demak blessedly keeps his own council although he still gives Pearson enough wordless glances of disapproval for his opinions to be known.
Fortunately, Pearson is not of the sort to put much stock in the opinions of others. He will carefully consider them, of course, but in the end he will always follow the path that he believes in his heart to be the truest. And isn't that part of why he's here? Why he's dead? No matter how much Pariwana whispers to him about destiny and being chosen for this greatness, Pearson knows he died because he did what he believed to be the right thing and he will never regret it. He will hate Bolger for his selfishness long after the other man is dead (a death that will come entirely at Pearson's whim) but he will never regret the initial decision that lead to said selfishness.
There are things about Bolger's continued captivity that have become routine. Not boring, per say, because he can't say he'll ever get tired of watching Bolger beg for a mercy that simply isn't coming, But nothing has been quite as wonderful as that very first time when he had just chained Bolger to the wall, the other man still capable of spitting and struggling and cursing him all the while, and how wonderful it had been to lean in close and whisper into Bolger's ear all soft and deadly, "Remember when we were fourteen or so and first started looking up porn? Remember all that kinky shit with ropes and whips and pleasure from pain? You know how there's supposed to be a safeword?" He'd laughed then. All cold and half-mad and terrible. "We're not going to have a safeword."
It took a while for Bolger to start screaming that first night. He's always been stubborn. Stubborn and headstrong and short tempered, the flip-side of the coin from Pearson. So different they shouldn't have been friends but they were anyway and now they're even more different because Bolger is still alive while Pearson is dead and he took every ounce of his fury and hate out of Bolger's skin in between rough kisses that were closer to bites. The tang of blood saltysweet on his tongue even hours after he finished.
The nights he's feeling especially cruel are the ones where he pretends that nothing has changed. When his hands slide over Bolger's skin with as much gentleness as they did while he was alive, smoothing featherlight over slowly healing bruises and scars and he whispers about love in the dark. The smile that crosses his lips sharp and deadly at the sensation of Bolger's hot tears on the side of his cold neck and he loves the ragged sobs and the hitching little gasps for breath that escape Bolger's throat more than anything. Even more than watching Bolger bleed and scream for mercy, because this is the purest sort of agony there is. This is a torn and shredded heart at its most raw and bloody, an open wound festering with guilt that will never heal because Pearson will not allow it to.
"I still love you," he murmurs against Bolger's ear sometimes, and at first he told himself that it was another cruel lie. Another way of playing with Bolger's mind. Except maybe it isn't. Not completely. Somewhere deep down, tangled up with all the searing hate there are shadows of half-remembered affection. Of curling together against the dark and drowning in each other's bodies to forget everything around them. His smile sharp while he kisses Bolger's neck and remembers and drinks in the soft, terrified, noises that Bolger makes.
Keeping someone alive when you simply aren't and therefore don't have quite the same needs anymore can be a tricky business and it's honestly not something Pearson considered too closely when he chained Bolger up in some dank little closet of a room in Old Momentum's ruins. His initial intent had never been to keep Bolger alive indefinitely after all, simply until he tired of the game and then he'd murder Bolger just as spectacularly as he'd been murdered in the first place. The circle closed and finished.
Except the longer this goes on, the less inclined he is to end it.
----------------
Previous year's holiday Zombie Cultist nonsense:
2008: Part 4 of "Burn It Down" | 2009: random Dead!Crow torturing Yusei
So, for the third year running. Here is random fic about Zombie Cultists being generally horrible and torturing people. Although it's not Dead!Crow this year. This year we have something I have been talking about doing forever okay, almost a year. Which would be Zombie Cultist!Pearson grabbing Bolger and keeping him around to torture and also for sex probably (although there is not actually any sex in this unless you wish to imagine it). This follows with my alternate ridiculous headcanon where they're actually around the same age. Pearson/Bolger. R for violence, dubious issues of consent (although, once again, no actual overt sex)
[YGO is not mine, and Poet is awesome and gave me a name for Pearson's hellgod which, as we decided at some previous point, would be the heron.]
--------------------
Overall the other Dark Signers simply believe he's crazy (even Kiryu, which he supposes must make him a very special and entirely obvious sort of crazy.) Rudger insists it's potentially troublesome, Misty simply thinks it's tacky, Kiryu can understand wanting to see someone suffer but can't quite grasp the concept of withholding his own satisfaction for as long as Pearson intends to drag this out, and Demak blessedly keeps his own council although he still gives Pearson enough wordless glances of disapproval for his opinions to be known.
Fortunately, Pearson is not of the sort to put much stock in the opinions of others. He will carefully consider them, of course, but in the end he will always follow the path that he believes in his heart to be the truest. And isn't that part of why he's here? Why he's dead? No matter how much Pariwana whispers to him about destiny and being chosen for this greatness, Pearson knows he died because he did what he believed to be the right thing and he will never regret it. He will hate Bolger for his selfishness long after the other man is dead (a death that will come entirely at Pearson's whim) but he will never regret the initial decision that lead to said selfishness.
There are things about Bolger's continued captivity that have become routine. Not boring, per say, because he can't say he'll ever get tired of watching Bolger beg for a mercy that simply isn't coming, But nothing has been quite as wonderful as that very first time when he had just chained Bolger to the wall, the other man still capable of spitting and struggling and cursing him all the while, and how wonderful it had been to lean in close and whisper into Bolger's ear all soft and deadly, "Remember when we were fourteen or so and first started looking up porn? Remember all that kinky shit with ropes and whips and pleasure from pain? You know how there's supposed to be a safeword?" He'd laughed then. All cold and half-mad and terrible. "We're not going to have a safeword."
It took a while for Bolger to start screaming that first night. He's always been stubborn. Stubborn and headstrong and short tempered, the flip-side of the coin from Pearson. So different they shouldn't have been friends but they were anyway and now they're even more different because Bolger is still alive while Pearson is dead and he took every ounce of his fury and hate out of Bolger's skin in between rough kisses that were closer to bites. The tang of blood saltysweet on his tongue even hours after he finished.
The nights he's feeling especially cruel are the ones where he pretends that nothing has changed. When his hands slide over Bolger's skin with as much gentleness as they did while he was alive, smoothing featherlight over slowly healing bruises and scars and he whispers about love in the dark. The smile that crosses his lips sharp and deadly at the sensation of Bolger's hot tears on the side of his cold neck and he loves the ragged sobs and the hitching little gasps for breath that escape Bolger's throat more than anything. Even more than watching Bolger bleed and scream for mercy, because this is the purest sort of agony there is. This is a torn and shredded heart at its most raw and bloody, an open wound festering with guilt that will never heal because Pearson will not allow it to.
"I still love you," he murmurs against Bolger's ear sometimes, and at first he told himself that it was another cruel lie. Another way of playing with Bolger's mind. Except maybe it isn't. Not completely. Somewhere deep down, tangled up with all the searing hate there are shadows of half-remembered affection. Of curling together against the dark and drowning in each other's bodies to forget everything around them. His smile sharp while he kisses Bolger's neck and remembers and drinks in the soft, terrified, noises that Bolger makes.
Keeping someone alive when you simply aren't and therefore don't have quite the same needs anymore can be a tricky business and it's honestly not something Pearson considered too closely when he chained Bolger up in some dank little closet of a room in Old Momentum's ruins. His initial intent had never been to keep Bolger alive indefinitely after all, simply until he tired of the game and then he'd murder Bolger just as spectacularly as he'd been murdered in the first place. The circle closed and finished.
Except the longer this goes on, the less inclined he is to end it.
----------------
Previous year's holiday Zombie Cultist nonsense:
2008: Part 4 of "Burn It Down" | 2009: random Dead!Crow torturing Yusei