#abusefic

by mylifewith1dee

Louis gets bullied at school for being gay. He makes himself feel better by going home and cutting himself until he bleeds. When his little sister, Lottie, wins a contest to have One Direction come to their home, frontman Harry Styles takes an interest in him. But will Louis let him in or is he far too gone to be saved?

Neko was supposed to write a fic for me if I told her my personal and whatnot, and she just sent it to me. AND she said I oculd post it if I wanted to, so guess What Silver is doing? POST POST POST because it's fucking great even if she IS my lazy girl. EVERYONE, read it if you have the time.

(this is really random and disjointed because I have never written gore before and had no plan so I just vomited words onto the keyboard. Uh the Morty in here is also GSC Morty because of my strange logic. Also, you can post it if you want just stick it behind a read more because of pretty obvious reasons. -v-)

(okay fic starts below hyphens)

-

Bribery.

—

[you are pathetic]

  Morty waved his hand, and another ghostly nail was driven into Falkner, this one stabbing into the skin of his upper arm and giving the extremely painful impression that it had reached bone. The pain was excruciating, but Falkner did not scream, or make any other noise. Not that he refused- although he knew Morty was only doing this because pain amused him, and Falkner certainly did not want to give him the satisfaction, Falkner was just too tired to make noise. The nails were a Curse from Morty’s Gengar; along with causing pain, they slowly sapped away the energy of the victim to the point where Falkner could do little more than lay on the floor, trying his best to keep breathing. The nails wouldn’t kill him outright, his exhaustion was the only danger at present- the Curse was more metaphysical than physical, while they hurt like a bitch, they left no blood and no physical wound on the victim, which is why, along with some excellent lying from Morty, no one had believed him the one time he had tried to get Whitney or the Trainers in his Gym to do something about the man.

[you are weak]

  “You used to last so much longer.” Morty’s voice echoes in the large, empty room- they were underneath Ecruteak Gym, below the clouds and far below any trainers on the upper level- and he stepped closer to Falkner, recalling his Gengar to his Pokeball. He bent down and lifted Falkner’s chin up, turning his head so that Falkner was forced to look directly at him. Morty was barely visible, his black clothing blended almost perfectly with the shadowy backdrop of the room. “Now it only takes a few curses before you can barely even inhale.” He made a tsk-tsk sound under his breath and shook his head. “Quite shameful, Falkner, dear.” Falkner neglected to respond, only continuing his laboured breathing in the pause Morty allowed him. “Ah well. You’re still my favourite for now.” His kissed Falkner’s somewhat sweaty forehead, and dropped his head back onto the floor. “Maybe one day I will simply let you die, mn?” With that, Morty turned and walked back into the gloom. Falkner heard his footsteps climbing the staircase back to the gym’s main level and- in the corner of his mind that was somewhat coherent- realized that he was in for yet another night (or day? Time was hazy when you had no means of telling it) underneath Ecruteak Gym with only the odd Gastly for company.

  [you are insignificant]

  After a few hours of lying on the floor, there was a sudden pulling sensation in his leg. Falkner realized what it was, and cursed silently. That would be the ‘warning’ when one of the nails was beginning to release itself- they didn’t stay forever, but the sensation of them leaving was painful enough for Falkner to wish they did. He tried to mentally prepare himself, but suddenly there was ripping sound in the back of his mind and he was under the distinct impression that a large majority of has calf was being violently ripped away from the rest of his leg. He curled up on himself, dimly aware of the screaming sound he was making and the laughter of Gastly around him. He did not acknowledge the ghosts aside from a mental middle finger- it would be too similar to acknowledging Morty- and instead he just stayed curled up, hand against his leg to make sure that yes, everything was still there, and braced himself for the eventual removal of the other nails that had been placed haphazardly over his body. Eventually, he stopped feeling pain and just lay with his eyes closed, trying to  fall asleep after the last ripping sensation had faded.

He had been spending increasingly more time stuck under here, getting stabbed over and over again by that damned Gengar, who only had to hurt itself once to result with a seemingly endless supply of weaponry.  Falkner just wanted to go, but he severely doubted that Morty would just let him prance out. He sighed, and let himself fall asleep to the sound of the Gastly giggling as they bobbed around hum.

  [you are a coward]

  Falkner woke up slowly, dimly aware of someone next to him when he did fully awaken. Despite the fact that there was all of one person that it could possibly be, he turned his head and partially rolled over to check who it was anyways. Morty was sitting next to him, knees drawn up to his chest, and his head resting on his crossed arms. Falkner assumed he was asleep- he didn’t react when Falkner turned away and stood up, although he wasn’t sure why Morty would be sleeping down here in the first place. Falkner decided he’d rather not question it, instead thinking that maybe now he could just go. Fly off to Unova or something. He already had someone standing in for him at the Gym, apparently, so he couldn’t possibly be that missed. He had walked about ten steps away before a voice piped up from behind him.

“Where are you going, little birdie?”

“Considering it’s the first time I’ve had enough energy to walk by myself, I’m taking advantage of it. I’m leaving.”

Morty did not move from his previous sitting position, not even bothering to look up. “Oh?”

“Yes. I’m going to Unova or something. This has been enough.”

Morty stood up, still managing to look mostly asleep, but giving off a threatening feeling nonetheless. Falkner decided to just quit talking while he was ahead, hopefully keeping his sudden attack of bravery, and he turned to go. He moved all of three more steps before he felt a hand on his shoulder and Morty’s voice in his ear, quietly telling him “I’m keeping you until either I get bored or you get dead.” He turned Falkner to where they were face-to-face, with little space between them. “Understand?”

[you are helpless]

  Falkner glared. “No.”

“Allow me to put it this way; you are an enigma. If I were to have sex with someone, it would likely be you.” He brushed their lips together briefly, then continued talking in a low murmur without moving back. “And if I were to quarter someone and then feed them through a woodchipper, that would also likely be you.”

 It took a second for Falkner to process the sentence, and another second for him to shove Morty away. The blonde was not expecting the retaliation at all, and fell to the ground with a sharp exhale. He didn’t look back up at Falkner, but the aura of danger around him amplified and a few Gastly gathered around excitedly, as if they knew what would happen and wanted to watch. “Well, little bird,” Morty said aloud, “now you’ve made me angry.” In a second, he was on his feet and had grabbed Falkner’s collar almost to the point of choking him. “I was hoping you wouldn’t.” Morty shoved Falkner to the floor, placing a foot on his chest and pressing down to keep him from standing back up. Morty was surprisingly strong, try as he might, Falkner could not get the other man of of him, the only result of his struggles was for Morty to increase the pressure he was placing on Falkner’s chest until the flying trainer thought a rib would start to crack if the pressure wasn’t relieved. Morty appeared to realize this and lifted his foot just enough where Falkner could breathe, albeit with quite a bit of effort. 

Morty riffled through his pocket, and ended up pulling out a small, oblong object. “Wha-” a silver flash and a blade was sitting comfortably in Morty’s hand. Falkner exhaled sharply, then followed that with another exclamation of pain as Morty sat heavily on his chest, placing the knife of his cheek. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

  [you are alone]

  Falkner made an effort to shove Morty off, but it was not terribly effective; all it did was make Morty dig the heels of his shoes into Falkner’s lower arm, effectively immobilizing the limbs. “Hold still, birdie, or I’ll have to clip your wings, too.” Morty mumbled, more to himself than anything else. The knife blade flickered, and instead of a cut blossoming across his cheek like Falkner expected, the bangs covering his right eye were simply lifted and fluttered off his face. Morty laid the knife back on the now-clear side of Falkner’s face, directly underneath his eye. He moved his left hand to Falkner’s cheek as well, gently pulling on the skin just enough to keep his eye- or at least the bottom lid- open. “M-Morty…? I-I-”

A sharp ssh cut him off, and the knife blade wiggled upwards, leaving a faint red trail behind. “It will be easier for you if you shut up, Falkner.” Without waiting for a reply, he inched the knife further. As soon as it cut into Falkner’s lower eyes, a warm blob of liquid rolled onto his cheek and Falkner began crying and shouting- in continually escalating volume- “Mortynopleasemortynonopleasepleasemortyno” until the phrases melted completely together into incomprehensible screaming and Falkner barely even know what was going on, only that he could feel the blood pooling and running down his cheek and it hurt so much he could see stars and it hurt and everything was going black and it hurt to the point where the pat of his brain that was still functioning decided it would be easier to just quit and Falkner dropped into unconsciousness.

Morty continued his work in quiet, broken only by the excited noises of Gastly and his own occasional humming.

  [you are contemptable]

  Falkner woke up an uncertain amount of time later with a violently throbbing pain in his eye- and the rest of his body, but mostly his eye- and a very dim memory of what had happened. He moved his arm out from under his chest- he was laying on his side, although he wasn’t sure he remembered having been in that position- and reached up toward his face. There was a fair amount of dried blood coating his cheek, and he was terrified of checking further, but his hand kept moving up until he reached his eye socket. There was a stronger twinge of pain at his touch, and aside from that, it was one of the most surreal things Falkner had ever experienced. His eye- which was something he had obviously not expected ever to go missing- was gone. There was a large hole that his upper eyelid bout half covered, denting in a fair bit. He expected that he could likely fit his finger up to the first knuckle in the space, although he really did not want to find out if that was true. He unconsciously whispered some sort of exclamation of disbelief, and the hitch in his voice was what made him realize he was crying.

“Surprised?” Falkner gasped and turned his head. Morty’s voice always seemed to creep up on him. Morty crouched next to him, and reached over Falkner to cup his lower cheek in his hand. “At least it turned out neatly.” Falkner turned to look at the blonde smiling gently down at him.

“What the do you think you’re doing?”

  “I told you, little bird, I will never allow you to leave me.”

    [you are pitiful]

[but most importantly]