I Don't Want to Order You
A/N: I always thought Alois was an amazing character. Although he's a bit of a psychopath, his past is so tragic, and he's so complex. And I always feel sorry for him that Claude doesn't love him. So here's a little hurt/comfort smut to ease his sorrows.
Oh yeah, and the capital on "Him" is for emphasis. I'm very big on good grammar in fanfiction, so I wouldn't make that mistake myself. Just so you know. Oh yeah, and it changes perpective half way through, because I find it weird when smut is written in the first person.
Enjoy!
Lots of Love,
Dead Alice
Warning: Contains non-graphic rape, angst, shouta.
I hate pretending. Every day I lie to people. To myself. This cheerful, boyish exterior means nothing. This smile is empty.
Slowly, I've learned to act, because, in the end, I have to because of Him. If he sees that he's hurt me, it always makes things worse. I am never quite sure if he likes to see that his perverted actions tear me apart, or if he gets angry when he sees me cry. If the guilt causes fury to well up inside him.
Sometimes I wonder if I have a soul anymore. Claude would be furious if I didn't, after I had promised it to him and everything. But sometimes I lie awake after He has destroyed me, dirtied and defiled me, and wonder if my soul was taken along with my purity. My innocence.
The man's heavy weight crashes down, the bulk of his body suffocating, knocking breath out of the young boy sharply. The boy screams. Not in pleasure, nor in protest. He knows there's no use in protesting. It's fake. Like everything else about him.
Claude is the only one who has seen the real me. The outside world, and Him, have seen the fake me. The youthful, bouncy, flirtatious me. That's all they've ever known. The other servants, the demons, have seen the evil me - ready to pull out their hair, to tear them apart bit by bit if I choose to do so. But only Claude has seen me as I am, when he comes in to dress me for bed, and sees me sobbing into the pillow. Just remembering what it was like to have that man, that monster, that inhuman creature inside of me, killing me from the inside out.
I could run away. That's what you think, right? Anywhere has got to be better than here.
"Why don't you protest? Why don't you scream or run away? It would be fun to chase you. Your Highness."
But I don't want to. I will stay by this despicable man's side for now. Because I know one day, I will get revenge. I will see him lying on the stone cold floor, in a puddle of his own blood, and I will torture and scrape, cut and ravage that dead flesh… almost as violently as he did to me. Almost. Even I could not be as cruel as he was. No matter how evilI want to be.
Am I weak? Claude would tell me so. Oh Claude, you beautiful, emotionless, brutal demon. How I wish I were like you. Then it might not hurt so much. And then I wouldn't love you, you who would never love me.
"Tell me you love me." The old man snarls viciously, slamming into the child once more. "Tell me you need to feel me inside you."
And I hope you will take his soul. And mine. And everyone on this damned planet. You deserve it, Claude. To taste their souls, both sweet and bitter and you consume them one by one. And they deserve it too. What about me? Yes, it seems appropriate. I deserve such a fate. But it's more to do with the fact that I would love to feed you. To know I've given you just one bit of pleasure, even if it's not the type that I so fervently desire.
I want you to love me, even if it's only for that.