Can't Help Himself (18+)
Pairing: Jason/Danny
Inspired by this wonderful piece of art I wanted to write some non-con with pit mad Jason and Danny, with some random LoA assassin holding Jason's leash.
Trigger warnings (seriously y'all); rape, vaginal penetration, degradation, manipulation, Pit mad!Jason, sexual violence, forced breeding.
This is Dead Dove
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“Keep a tight grip on the leash,” Talia said as he handed over the chain with a personable smile. “He’s very well trained but that doesn’t always help when you’re not holding the leash. I’m loathe to part with him of course, but grandfather says you have an important prisoner and Jason is an excellent guard dog~” She ran her painted nails through the young man’s black and white hair.
The masked assassin nodded, looking down at the young man at the end of the leash, he glared back with glowing green eyes, swirling with the sort of mindless rage particular to the Lazarus pits. Such people were little more than animals but they could still be useful. “I’ll take good care of him,” She assured the leader’s daughter, bowing to her before she turned to leave. When Jason was reluctant to follow Talia made a sharp hissing sound that made him flinch and follow his temporary mistress without resistance.
It was a quick walk to the cell in the depths of the league base that held one of the more interesting things they had managed to capture. “I brought you a friend, Phantom” the assassin said cruelly as she flipped on the lights.
Inside the young man with slow white hair and intelligent Lazarus green eyes hissed at the sudden light. He glared at the assassin baring too sharp teeth and snarling, he had talked a lot when he had first been brought here but when he seemed to realize it didn’t do any good he had stopped. Now he was giving everyone the silent treatment seemingly out of spite, occasionally yanking on the Lazarus treated shackles, the only things they’d found that could hold him. He was wary as he glanced down at Jason, his eyes widening slightly.
Jason too had fallen still and stopped snarling, the two men were just… staring at each other. Well that was odd. The assassin clicked her tongue and gave Jason’s leash a brief tug, reminding him who he was answering too and his purpose. He blinked and, rather than falling back into line he strained towards their captive, trying to get closer.
She hissed sharply and kicked high, bringing her foot down on the chain connected to Jason’s thick collar, using her weight to drag him down to the floor. Jason let out growling oof as he barely caught himself enough to break the fall, finally looking away from the prisoner to look at the woman now standing on his leash, keeping him down on the floor by his neck. What shocked her was the whine that Phantom let out in response. When she looked up she saw that he was also straining towards Jason, matching green eyes filled with sympathy.
“He doesn’t want to help you, you know,” She scoffed at Phantom. “The violence of the Pit runs deep in this one, he barely has enough of his mind left to know his own name. You should thank me for keeping him away from you, he probably wants to tear you apart,” she laughed only to be met by an Extra glowy glare from Phantom.
“You want him Fine,” She said, rolling her eyes and taking her foot off the chain, letting Jason get to his hands and knees. He moved towards Phantom hesitantly, expecting to be pulled back again, but this time she let him, following with a tight grip on his leash. She didn’t think the Demon Head would be pleased if he actually let a Guard Dog hurt his prize so she had to be ready to yank him back if he got too violent.
When Jason realized that he wasn’t going to be pulled back he sped up and practically pounced on Phantom who let out an oof as he was pushed down to the stone floor. Before the assassin or, it seemed, Phantom, knew what was happening Jason was scrambling at the being clothes.
“No, Don’t-” Phantom yelped, the first words he’d said in days as Jason tore Phantom’s shirt open from collar to waist like a child unwrapping a present. He lashed out to try and push Jason off but bound as he was Jason was stronger and didn’t seem to be struggling to hold Phantom down. Despite not needing to breath he gasps as Jason bears down on him, grabbing at the front of his shirt. What was interesting though was that despite looking scared and saying no Phantom was not fighting as hard as he could, wasn’t going for Jason’s throat or eyes.
“Well this is getting interesting~” She laughed, Phantom’s gaze snapped to her as if he’d forgotten she was there.
“Make him stop,” Phantom gasped and she grinned unapologetically down at him, her mouth still covered by her mask but judging by his despair he saw it in her eyes.
“No, I don’t think I will. I think I like where this is going~” She laughed. She did pull Jason back but it was not to stop Jason, but he was so mindless right now she wasn’t even sure He knew what he wanted. But she did~ When she pulled him back onto his knees she could see that his cock was rock hard and straining against the loose pants he was wearing.
This was wrong of course, but she wouldn’t be an assassin if she didn’t have a sadistic streak, or cared at all about what was right. So she was just going to have fun, and right now what that means was shoving Phantom over onto his stomach with her foot and leaning down to grab the back of his pants with one hand, yanking them down and fully ignoring his screams for her to stop.
Jason was staring, his eyes roaming over the curve of Phantom’s ass and when she yanked Danny’s hips up she saw how Jason’s pupils dilated when he got a good view of Phantom’s pussy. She planted her foot on the back of Phantom’s neck to keep him down and semi-still. “Good boy Jason,” She told Jason, talking over Phantom’s objections, knowing Jason would listen to her, the one holding his leash, like he was trained to. “Now you, take off your pants.” She ordered, and of course he obeyed though never did he take his eyes off of Phantom the entire time.
“Well, I think you know what you want, go ahead and take it~” She told Jason, pushing off of Phantom’s neck and leaning against the wall, though of course she still kept a firm grip on Jason’s leash. She'd step in if she had to, but she’d much rather just enjoy the show.
Jason hesitated for a moment, but as soon as Phantom started to pull away it broke through whatever was holding Jason back and he lurched into motion. He grabbed Phantom’s hips and yanked him back making the being yelp. Jason leaned down, his nose was nearly pressed into Phantom’s pussy as he breathed deeply, scenting the other as Phantom whimpered his protest.
“You might as well shut up again Phantom. He only listens to the one holding his leash,” She mocked. Not that Jason seemed to be listening to her very much right now, whatever innate instinct to breed Phantom seemed to be overwriting just about everything else. “Besides it looks like he just can’t help himself.”
Jason ran his tongue over Danny’s pussy, a long sweep from his clit to his taint making him gasp and shudder. Jason did it again and Danny yanked against his chains, trying to cover his mouth but coming up just shy. “Jason Stop!” He pleaded but was completely ignored, just as she had warned him he would be.
Jason growled and pushed deeper, his tongue disappearing inside the boy’s cunt. It was only a little disappointing to see Phantom bite his lip to silence himself, less so as she watched green blood drip down his chin from where his fangs had sunk into his own lip. Behind him Jason’s growl slowly morphed into a purr before he pulled back. His dick was an attractively desperate shade of pink as he adjusted his grip on Phantom’s hips and then ground against his ass.
Phantom yowled like a furious cat and thrashed, but chained and pinned as he was there was nowhere for him to go as Jason wrestled his legs apart. Danny fought, until with one quick, clumsy thrust Jason forced his way into the pale being body. Pinned and penetrated Phantom finally fell still with a keen that would have been heartbreaking, had anyone who was listening been sympathetically inclined.
She cackled and yanked on Jason’s leash, dragging him further over Phantom, further into his unwilling pussy. Jason’s face was read, his strong back covered in a thin sheen of sweat and his eyes glowing more intensely than ever before, fixed down on the object of his unwanted affections.
He pulled out and pushed back in and Phantom yelped and shuddered, clawed fingers digging into the very stone beneath him as Jason wasted no time in fucking him. He looked up at her with hatred in his eyes that… if she was honest scared her a little. His gaze seemed to promise that the second he got out of these shackles she would pay, but she didn’t show that fear of course.
“Don’t look at me that way~ I’m not the one fucking you,” She mocked him and he gave a broken snarl before spitting blood at her feet. Huh he must have bitten his tongue at some point.
Jason’s eyes slid closed, his breathing coming in shallow moans and keens as he rutted into Phantom’s body with reckless abandon, uncaring and eager. He found some sort of rhythm, his moans and the sound of flesh on flesh the only sounds in the cell. Phantom had bitten his lip again, his eyes closed tightly and his fists clenched so quickly she could see the blood where his claws were digging into his own palms.
Jason’s moans took on a new breathy tone as he lost track of his rhythm, bucking his hips in frantic shallow thrusts until he came. She knew he must have because Phantom wailed so loudly she knew it would be ringing in her ears for days.
Jason let go abruptly and Phantom collapsed to the floor, curling up in a ball and hugging himself tightly. “Wonderful performance everyone,” She laughed pulling Jason away. “But I don’t think you’ll be a good guard for him after all Jason. Sort yourself out. I’ll take you back to Talia and find someone who won’t fuck the prisoner.”
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hi! your blog is one of my favourites and i absolutely adore reading your thoughts. my grandfather recently passed away and it feels like i lost myself with him. how do i continue living after this? there is this constant weight on my chest and it feels like an emptiness has made a home inside of me. how do i go on when it feels like the world crashed on my shoulders?
hello, love! this is so very sweet and kind of you, and i hope you're treating yourself gently and kindly right now - there aren't words for a loss like this. that heaviness is difficult, and hard, and painful. it's okay if things don't feel okay, right now, or even soon - i think that's something that a lot of the people i know that have gone through similar grief feel: like they should be able to get back to a relative 'normal' in a [insert far too short period of time].
but it's okay if it hurts. that's where i'd like to start. you're allowed to feel that emptiness, that world-crashed feeling that goes beyond words, beyond time. don't feel like you have to rush this to feel some sort of better. things get easier with time, i promise you this, but sometimes painful feelings are important to feel, too. cry, scream, feel your emotions. they're a part of you. grieve.
it's perhaps a little silly, but when i think about death i always think about a couple of space songs: mainly drops of jupiter by train and saturn by sleeping at last. there are perhaps others that speak to the emotions better, but these two have always hit something a little deeper for me, and are popular for a wide-reaching reason.
and while personally i don't know much about grief like this, i do know a lot about love; and i think they're a lot of the same thing.
the people we love are a part of us, and this is why it takes from us so deeply when we lose them, because it does feel like we've lost a part of ourselves in the wake of it. but it's because they were so central to our experiences of living - our lives, that the separation introduces a hollowness - a place where they used to be. a home that now goes unlived in.
an emptiness, like you said.
but just because they're not here physically, doesn't mean he's not still there, in your heart, in your life, your memory. you can hold him close in smaller ways, as well: steal a sweater, or cologne/scent for something a little more physical and long lasting for remembering. hold onto the memories you cherish, the things that made you laugh, the ease of slow mornings and gentle nights. write them all down, slide a few photographs in there, go through it and add more when you miss him. keep them all close, keep them in your heart.
you're not alone, in this. he's still there, with you, it's just - in the little things.
he's with you in the way you see and go about your daily life, in doing what he liked to do, in the ways he interacted with the world that you shared with him. the memories you recall fondly when the night is late or the moment is right and something calls it into you like a melody, an old bell, laughter you'd recognize anywhere.
but i think, perhaps most importantly above all others - talk about him. with your family, your friends, his friends, strangers; stories are how we keep the people we love alive. the connections they've made, the legacies and experiences they've left behind, and so, so many stories.
how lucky, we are - to love so much it takes a piece of us when they go. grief is the other side of the coin, but it does not mean our love goes away. it lives in you. it lives in everyone who knew him, in the smallest pieces of our lives.
the people we love never really leave us, like this: they're in how we cook and the way we fold our newspapers, our laundry, in the radio stations we tune in to and the way we decorate our walls, our photo albums. they're in the way we store our mail, organize our closets, the scribbled notes in the indexes of our books. the meals we love and the drinks we mix, the way we spend time with one another. they've been passed down for generations, for longer than history - and we are all the luckier for it.
think about what you shared with him, and do it intentionally. bring him into your life, like this, again. whether it's crosswords or poetry or sports or anything else. if one doesn't help, try another. something might click.
i hope things feel a little easier for you, as they tend to do only with time. i hope you find joy in your grief, even if it is small and hard to grasp at first. know that your hurt stems from so much love that there isn't a place to put it properly, and that it is something so meaningful and hurting poets and storytellers have been struggling to put it into words and sounds that feel like the fit right for eons, and that it is also just simply yours. sometimes things don't have to make sense. sometimes they just are - unable to be put into words or neat little sentiments, as unfair and tragic as they come.
but i promise it will not feel like this forever. your love is real. and perhaps, on where to begin on from here - i think it's less on finding where to begin and just beginning. and you've already started. you've taken the most important and crucial step: the first one.
wherever you go, after that, from here? you'll figure it out. you always have, and you always do. it'll come, as things always do. love leads us, as does light - and you're never alone in your hurt. in your grief, your missing something dear to you. i think if you talk about it with others, you'll find they have ways of helping you cope as well - and they have so much love of their own to spare, too.
as an aside, here is the song (northern star by dom fera) i was listening to when i wrote this, for no other reason more than it makes me think of connections, and love, and how we hold onto the people we love and how they change us, wonderfully and intrinsically. it's a little more joyous than the others i've mentioned, and plays like a story, and it made me think of what is at the core of this, love and stories and i am here with you, and maybe it'll bring you some joy, if you'd like it. wishing you all my love and ease 💛
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