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adrift-in-thyme · 7 months

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Whumptober Day 6: Made to Watch

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- Warriors & Twilight

- Summary: Cia manages to capture Warriors and decides to try to force him to remain with her

CW for nonconsensual touching, nonconsensual transformation, mild body horror, torture, a character being possessive, vomiting, blood and injury

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Warriors glares down at his legs, trying in vain not to look up. He is all too aware of the faces grinning cockily down at him from every angle of the room. And he would really rather not gaze upon them. They give him the creeps, quite frankly.

Who knew his own visage could look so wrong, slapped on the walls of someone he abhors?

He shifts, flexing his bound hands to try and bring feeling back into them. The ropes are pulled so tightly that he is certain their pattern is indented in his skin. Magic reverberates through them, dark and thick and nauseatingly wrong. Even it feels possessive, as though its wielder has imbued it with her sentiments.

The thought sends chills running down his neck and back. It’s almost as if he can feel her hands on him already, like skulltulas crawling across his skin. Unconsciously, he curls in on himself further.

He doesn’t know how Cia returned to the land of the living. Frankly, he doesn’t think he wants to. But one thing is for certain, he wishes it had never occurred.

Neither had he thought he would set foot in this place again. Foolishly, he had thought it was all over.

(Save, of course, for the creeping memories of his men lying in pools of their own blood; townspeople screaming in horror and pain; long nights spent agonizing over maps and plans, trying to figure out how to win the next battle, trying to ignore the constant, creeping terror that someone followed his every move, cold fingers reaching out to brush his neck.)

Yet here he sits in the depths of Cia’s chambers, wounded and bound. His head still aches from where the moblin had slammed its club into it. A trail of drying blood tugs at the skin of his forehead.

Warriors closes his eyes for a moment, exhales long and slow through his nostrils. Fear is seeping past his defenses, turning his mind numb. He can’t let that happen. He has to stay alert, keep a hold of himself.

But that is awfully hard to do. Even more so when footsteps echo in the hall.

There are multiple pairs of them by the sound of it — three perhaps — some heavier than others. And as they grow closer Warriors finds it increasingly difficult to slow the mad rhythm of his heart.

Cia is coming, he can feel it, feel her dark magic seeping through the walls and floorboards.

His breath hitches the slightest bit and he forces himself to hold the next one, then blow it out slowly. It still shakes a bit but at least he is in less danger of hyperventilating now.

Calm yourself, captain, he orders. He squeezes his eyes shut, allowing himself a moment to feel the serenity of cool darkness. All the while, the footsteps grow continually louder.

Remove yourself from the situation. You’re no good if you’re panicked.

Warriors clenches his hands, determined to stop their shaking. He can’t show her weakness, he refuses to. But he can’t do more than slow the manic bob of his knee, up and down, up and down, mimicking the erratic pound of his heart.

His body demands to retain one, small nervous tick and he has little choice but to cave.

The footsteps come to an abrupt halt now, just outside of the double doors. Warriors inhales sharply, breath caught in his chest. He can hear his heart pounding like it’s the only sound in the room, filling his ears, reverberating through him like the beat of war drums.

Then, both doors are flung wide open with a flare and fury that can only belong to one person. And sure enough, there she is, standing in the doorway with her hip jutted outward and her head tipped so the shadows play upon it, violet eyes gleaming like a demon’s, a malicious smirk curving her lips.

She looks just as she did in the time of the war. A shiver tears up his spine.

“Well, well, look what we have here,” she croons, waltzing into the room. “It has been far too long, my little hero. But I am so delighted to see you again.”

She begins to walk toward him, every step making his heart climb higher into his throat. Then, she is mere inches away, grasping his chin and dragging it upward so he has no choice but to look at her. He fights not to recoil from her touch.

“I brought you a little gift to celebrate the occasion,” she purrs. “I do hope you enjoy it.”

She raises a hand and motions to whoever still waits in the darkness of the threshold. Then, quick and quiet as a serpent, she slips behind the chair he is bound to. She leans forward, hands snaking around his shoulders, breath and hair tickling his ear.

“Now, watch,” she murmurs. “I want to see your face when you see what I brought you. Or rather who.”

She has barely uttered the word when the sounds of a scuffle come from the doorway. Seconds later, a figure Warriors would know anywhere is hurled unceremoniously over it. The Hero of Twilight lands in a bloodied heap on the hard floor.

Warriors can’t help the way his breath hitches in his throat.

“Rancher?”

A moblin lumbers into the light. Grasping Twilight’s shoulder, it wrenches him upward so he kneels before Warriors. Slowly, the hero raises his head.

A gash runs jaggedly across his face, cresting the bridge of his nose. Its gory crimson stands out against the pallor of his skin. His hair hangs limply, weighed down by blood and sweat. His pelt, outer tunic, and armor are gone, his undertunic and pants bloodied and torn, allowing glimpses of the angry welts and bruises and cuts lying beneath.

His eyes are abnormally bright when they meet the captain’s, but that all too familiar fire still burns within it. And when he catches sight of Cia, hovering behind Warriors, her hands still on him, his expression turns positively murderous.

“Get away from him,” he growls, earning himself a swift kick in the ribs. He doubles over, gasping. A fresh streak of worry zips through Warriors.

But the sorceress has no problem ignoring what is happening before her. She begins to laugh and the sharp sound echoes in Warriors’ ears.

“Wonderful! Just the reaction I was expecting!” She steps back, clapping together her hands. “Now, we can begin.”

“Begin what?” Warriors spits, anger in his tone. He grasps onto it, if only to keep his fear at bay. “It seems you’ve done more than enough already.”

She chuckles again, as though she is privy to some wonderful joke that neither hero is.

“Oh, captain, I certainly have missed you. Death was so unkind to keep me from you. Thankfully, there are those who understand the need to rise from the grave.” Cia grins. “And now that I’m back, I would really rather not have to lose you again.”

She runs her hand along the side of his jaw and neck, the movement almost gentle. Warriors is certain he is going to be ill.

“So you are going to stay here with me…” Her face is suddenly inches from his. Warriors cringes back, trying to turn his face away. But long fingers grasp his jaw and wrench it back into place.

“Forever.”

Warriors nearly chokes on the breath he had been holding. He had known it was coming, there was no way he couldn’t, but that doesn’t negate the terrible feeling that one word provokes. He has felt suffocated by this place since he awoke here. Now, he is certain that it’s crushing him.

“He’s not gonna stay with you,” Twilight says, his tone firm despite the way he trembles. There is something dangerous in it too, like the bite of a wild animal. “He’s not your pet.”

Cia turns to him at that. A high-pitched, maniacal giggle bubbles out of her.

“It is absolutely hilarious that you of all people would phrase it in such a way. Tell me, does your friend know?”

She closes the distance between herself and the rancher. Then, reaching out she grasps his chin, angling his face upward. With the other hand she traces the dark markings around his eyes and on his forehead. Twilight tries to pull away but she holds him fast.

“This one is dripping with dark magic,” she says, addressing Warriors now with an almost giddy tone. “He’s coated in it! Just look at these markings! And this” – She releases Twilight’s face and lifts the crystal he wears instead, turning it in her fingers — “This is the source of it all. He has used its power so many times now that it might as well be a part of him. I wonder, if all that magic were gone…or perhaps changed, would he break?”

Twilight’s expression doesn’t change from its steadfast mask of anger. But Warriors has known him for too long now to miss the flash of fear.

“It doesn’t matter,” he says, sharply. “It’s me you want, not him. Release him. Now.”

Cia giggles again. For a moment, she regards the crystal. Then, dropping it, she turns back to Warriors.

“I’ll let him go eventually. But first we’re going to have a bit of fun. You see, the wonderful thing about dark magic is that it has no qualms. It can be warped and twisted however you wish. It won’t put up a fight. It might even decide to help you, if you’re lucky.”

Warriors’ eyes narrow. Panic thrashes within him like a bird caught in a cage. He has to find a way out of here, he has to.

“So.” Cia stalks toward him, grinning as though she is exceedingly pleased with herself. “Either you swear to remain by my side for eternity, or your friend comes to know what it feels like when I bend dark magic to my will.” Her smile turns almost sweet. But there is blatant danger behind it, a temper that is too easily kindled. “It’s your choice, my little hero.”

Twilight skewers him with a look so cold it could send most grown men running. Under better circumstances, Warriors would tease him about how well he has managed to capture the old man’s glare of disappointment.

“Don’t do what she wants, captain. I’ll be fine.”

Warriors swallows, feeling vaguely lightheaded. He knows the answer he should give. But Cia’s presence is everywhere, smothering him so he can’t breathe or feel or think. His own face grins down at him from every wall, malicious and oppressive. And some desperate, selfish part of him wants to scream that he can never live this way.

With an effort, he forces himself to open his mouth. The words he wants stick in his throat, though, and nothing comes out.

“The clock is ticking,” Cia hisses, fire beginning to burn behind her eyes. “Your hesitation perturbs me, little hero. We are meant to be together, can you not see that? We are far bigger than the powers that try to keep us apart. Come, be with me the way it should be.”

Her words wrap around him like treacherous vines. Warriors can’t breathe past their grip.

“He was never meant to be with you, witch,” Twilight growls. “And if you think your little plan to manipulate him is gonna work, you’re gonna be sorely disappointed.”

She whirls on him, pent up fury radiating off of her in waves.

“Time’s up!”

Warriors jolts forward with a strangled shout. “No, wait!”

But it’s already too late.

A flick of the sorceress’ fingers and Twilight goes rigid. His eyes blow wide with terror and agony. A scream breaks free, strangled and hoarse and terrible. Black flecks begin to dance in the air. They surround him, coalescing into something darker and more solid. Then, quick as a spear in flight, they zip into his chest.

Abruptly, Twilight’s screams cut off. His eyes roll back in his head and he slumps in the moblin’s grip. For a long moment, the room is horribly quiet.

Warriors doesn’t dare take a breath. His ears still ring from Twilight’s cries, head still pounds from woundedness and fear. Distantly, he realizes that he should look around the room for some method of escape while Cia is distracted. But he can’t tear his eyes from Twilight's limp form.

Let him be okay. Dear goddesses let him be okay.

A violent screech suddenly fills the space, eerie and petrifying. It ricochets around Warriors’ skull and he yearns to close his eyes in an attempt to block out the noise. But it continues and he remains frozen, helpless to do anything more than watch as Twilight morphs.

His body enlarges and elongates, pale skin turning the color of fresh tar, lines of silvery-gray tracing strange patterns along it. Lines of crimson weave deadly cracks along his chest. His hair turns long and wiry, spreading like mane from a face that no longer even remotely resembles something human. Oddly, Warriors can’t help thinking it looks more akin to a shield now, lacking in features as it is. It is adorned with lines and circles, shapes carved into it as though by a potter into clay.

The beast (or…Twilight he guesses, though there is nothing there to remind him that this thing was ever his brother) gives a screech again, so loud Warriors is certain his ear drums are going to burst. And then, he whirls around and hurls the moblin at the wall. The monster hits it with a deafening crack that makes the room tremble and creates a sizable, moblin-shaped dent. It disappears seconds later.

Cia begins to cackle as Twilight faces her, limbs trembling (though with anger or pain, Warriors isn’t certain). He regards her for a mere moment, then with an enraged howl, lunges.

“Now, now,” she croons, stepping effortlessly out of the way, “be a good beast.”

She holds up the crystal (Warriors hadn’t even seen her snag it) and suddenly Twilight is back, darkness folding around him as he crumples. He just manages to catch himself on his hands and knees, dazed eyes flitting to Warriors. There’s something in them, something urgent trying to break through the haze. And for a split second, Warriors tries desperately to decipher it. But then, the chance is gone. The rancher doubles over and vomits.

“Painful, isn’t it?” Cia says. She delivers a swift kick to the rancher’s chin and he falls. “I told you dark magic is not to be trifled with. And you, oh you, have certainly trifled with it an awful lot. But that is hardly my priority in all of this, only an observation that has proven oh so useful. No.” She turns to Warriors, a smirk on her lips. “My priority is you.”

He’s shaking, Warriors realizes dimly, with anger, with fear, with the guilt that tears up his insides. But he grits his teeth and meets her eye.

“Let him go.” He drags out the words, slowly, each one measured so that his voice doesn’t tremble. It’s the same method he used to address his troops before battle. “And I’ll stay with you. I swear.”

Her eyes light up and a little, giddy gasp escapes her. Warriors’ stomach churns, threatening revolt. He swallows down the bile that rises in his throat.

“Say it again,” she murmurs, prowling up to him, hands already outstretched to brush over his cheeks. “Tell me we were meant to be together. Tell me you’ll stay for all eternity.”

Magic revels at her fingertips, hot and oppressive on his face. Terror wedges itself in his throat and he closes his eyes. The taste of blood is sharp and nauseating.

“Keep them open,” she orders, voice taking on a harsh edge now. Fingernails dig into his face.

With an effort, he obeys.

“Come now.” Lips hover inches from his and there’s no room to flinch away, nowhere to run. It’s just him and her, a nightmare made manifest in reality, an eternity of misery.

He swallows again, hard, to push down the rising urge to fight back.

“No,” Twilight croaks. “Captain…don’t! Don’t let this monster control you!”

Her eyes turn to blazing fire at that.

“Monster?” In an instant she is straightening, whirling to face the rancher, and Warriors can breathe again. “You think I’m a monster for wanting what I deserve?! You little — I’ll show you what a monster is!”

There’s a terrible flash of light and dark again. The room fills with the sound of agonized screams, turning quickly to the deafening, alien cries of before. And then Twilight is gone, and the beast stands in his place.

But that, it seems, is exactly what he had wanted.

The rancher is shaking, blood dripping from wounds Warriors can’t see. But he doesn’t allow himself even a moment to catch his breath. With an animalistic shriek, he throws himself at Cia. Close as they are now, she doesn’t have time to evade. He comes down on top of her and she hits the ground, crying out in shock and anger.

Desperately, furiously, she struggles, screaming obscenities and cut-off incantations. Twilight, however, doesn’t give her a chance to get the upper hand. He digs his talons into her with an abandon that Warriors can’t help finding a little terrifying.

But he isn’t about to complain. Because the moment she falls, he feels the spell strengthening his bonds stutter and die. The ropes are useless without it, loosened as they are by his constant fight against them. They fall limply to the floor.

He’s on his feet without a second thought, mind locked in the numb determination of an adrenaline rush. Twilight’s crystal has fallen a short ways away and he snatches it up by its cord.

“Rancher!” he calls, holding it up.

Twilight spares him a quick, eyeless glance, then reels back and swipes at Cia so fiercely that she goes flying. She collides with the opposite wall, then collapses to the ground, blood dribbling from her mouth.

“You,” she growls, between agonized breaths, “you pathetic dog! I’ll get my revenge for this! Link will be mine!”

And then, in a cloud of violet and black, she is gone.

He can still feel her presence in the room, still feel her on him, readying the spell that would enslave him to his own promise forever. But Warriors pushes all that aside and turns to Twilight.

“Here.” He holds out the crystal. “This will turn you back, right?”

Twilight nods. Carefully, he reaches out a dark, taloned hand and scoops the crystal into it. The shadows fold around him, there’s a faint “swoosh”, and the rancher is once again standing before him.

He wavers, looking dangerously close to collapsing, but Warriors puts his arms around him before he can. His own legs aren’t feeling too steady, though, so he ends up lowering them both onto the ground. Twilight slumps heavily against his shoulder. His breathing is sharp, short, and shuddering, his face ashen and pale. But he drags his gaze up to meet Warriors’ anyway.

“You ‘k?”

Warriors laughs, bitterly. “I should be asking you that, rancher. What on earth did she do to you?”

Twilight frowns at the crystal still cupped in his palm. “Somethin’ she…she shouldn’t have been able to.”

“I’m sorry.” It comes out far quieter and more broken than he had intended, but at this point he hardly cares.

“Shush. Ain’t you-your fault.” The rancher shifts, wincing slightly as he does so. “And don’t you try…arguing that-that it is.”

Warriors smiles, dryly. He had been thinking up an argument – more than one – while they spoke.

“You’re too much like the old man, you know that?” he says, with a sigh.

Twilight’s lips upturn in a grin, but he doesn’t answer. His eyes have slipped closed now. Warriors can tell unconsciousness isn’t far off.

Shoving his tumultuous thoughts aside, he gives the rancher a gentle nudge.

“Don’t fall asleep yet. We still have to get out of this place.”

And the sooner, the better.

“Can you stand?”

Slowly, Twilight nods. He drags his eyes open again, blinking up at the captain.

“Don worry, I’ll hang on. You’re skinny little self could…couldn’t lug me out of here.”

Warriors chuckles, despite himself. “Don’t sell me short, rancher. Believe me, I’ve carried heavier than you.”

Twilight sends him a look that says he doubts that. But he allows Warriors to help him to his feet. And as they start toward the door, he leans against the captain, not even bothering to protest his support.

Despite the complaints of his own body, Warriors is glad of it. The very least he can do is get his brother away from this place where violet eyes gleam and long-fingered hands reach out to imprison. These are his demons to face, not Twilight’s. The rancher has endured more than enough on his behalf. And if Cia shows up again – and Warriors is not foolish enough to assume that she won’t – he will do whatever is necessary to ensure she never harms his brothers again.

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destiny-in-the-universe · 13 days

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something rots inside you (it's buzzing, tearing you apart) [DannyMay 2024: Insect]

Things had started out as normal.

For Danny Fenton, ghost fights were common - of course, he couldn’t go a day without having to deal with the latest attempt to take over the city, or as it would seem: the world. It was irksome at this point, but he couldn’t bring himself to ignore a plea for help. He was quite used to this by now - though even then, he rushed out the first chance he could and was taking on the ghost with ease, firing an ectoplasmic blast at his target.

Dodging an incoming swing, Danny grinned - eyes gleaming ever so slightly as he crowed with laughter.

“You’ve got to do better than that!” He taunted. His hands thrust forward and with a single firing shot, he was hurdling an ice beam toward the latest baddy.

Even then, it still did not prepare him for the sudden blast of energy directed at the creature - startling for half a second as he heard its screeches, and Danny’s eyes went wide like saucers when he finally noticed a familiar vehicle parked off to one side.

Oh, you had to be kidding.

Danny could only watch in almost morbid fascination as his opponent was sucked into a container, vanishing from sight in a matter of seconds. No matter how much the ghost’s capture dug under his skin - he needed to get out, make his way back home before the Guys in White managed to catch up to him. Or worse.

He visibly shuddered for half a second before turning tail back to FentonWorks, or so he thought.

Barely being given the chance to react, Danny let out a confused and panicked yelp when the vibrant green net knocked him back to the ground - his hands pushing up against it. He just needed to turn invisible, letting his own intangibility take hold but somehow, that didn’t happen. Fear gripped his core, the subtle hum only he could sense giving way into a low krr-krr as danger was rapidly approaching.

“Gotcha, ghost scum,” one of the agents spoke, apparently unbothered by the way Phantom tried to push at the mesh netting. “Now, we can do this the easy way,” he continued, only to narrow his eyes as the captive wouldn’t stop moving, “or the hard way.”

“Wait, stop- you have to let me go! I’m not- this is a big misunderstanding!”

Phantom’s fake attempts to startle him were frankly beginning to get annoying, which led to pulling out what looked to be a rectangular object with two rods at either end. The agent scoffed before jabbing it forward, sending bolts of raw electricity into the supposed hero’s side.

It screeched, howling in pain as its body spasmed - Phantom whimpering as the jolts barely left him able to do anything. Its powers were null, unable to be used in the current state but that was honestly none of the agent’s concern as he hauled the caught ghost into the back of the van.

“No, no no,” Phantom hissed, eyes beginning to glow an even brighter, translucent green under the dimly-lit space, “let me out of here!”

His screams went unanswered as the door slammed shut, leaving Danny pressed against the cool floor of the van - his own heart thundering loudly and a quiet noise of panic escaped him. No matter how much he tugged and attempted to do anything that would ensure escaping the net, it didn’t work. He refused to let himself cry, not even when he flinched at the sound of the van continuing to bustle and jostle beneath him.

This was not a pleasant experience.

Surely, someone had to notice when he went missing- something that would allow him the way of getting back home, but of course the universe seemed against Danny today. As the van suddenly pulled to a stop, he braced himself for the inevitable; he remained tense, though seeing the agent made him snarl - trying to keep as much distance as he could. When the net was hauled up, he thrashed and kicked, deciding he wouldn’t go down without a fight.

“You’re making a mistake!” He shouted, but nothing - they still brought him inside, and as soon as he was let out of the net, Phantom suddenly shot at the agent who cursed inwardly. “Get back, stay away from me!”

“You little-” the agent whipped out a stun blaster, having to be quick before their current prize could manage to get away. He grunted as an ectoplasmic blast barely managed to avoid hitting him, only to fire back on the ghost.

There, he watched as Phantom gasped - writhing in discomfort on the ground, barely being able to move while the agent flipped him over on his stomach.

“Do-Don’-”

The cuffs were clasped against its wrists, suppressing the scum’s powers and Phantom gasped - body spasming in apparent discomfort as its abilities were forced under dormancy - being hauled to its feet. The struggles did nothing to help, but soon enough - it was being forced inside a sterile white room, equipped with what looked like medical devices and the metal table at the center of the room.

Phantom startled again, almost looking horrified as it bared what appeared to be small fangs.

“Are you insane? Let me go!” It shouted, but it was all just lies - the ghost still putting up a fight before it was knocked onto the table; new cuffs being latched onto its wrists and ankles, not to mention one around the waist. Phantom’s breath was quickly growing shallow, a false imitation of a panic attack from when it was alive (it likely hadn’t been), its powers still kept locked in order to prevent the scum from fighting back.

This could not be happening.

Danny’s heart continued to race, his mind switching into overdrive as he saw the scientists - clad in white coats, like something straight out of a movie - talking to each other; one walked up to him, saying some weird nonsense about how ‘Phantom’ would be the perfect specimen worth studying. He shot them a glare but he refused to speak - straining, pulling against the restraints as he spoke, “you- you don’t want to do this!”

Unfortunately for him, he let out a sudden shout as what was very clearly a scalpel pressed to his chest. Tears gathered in his eyes and let out a yelp as the incision was made, pushing into the skin - scientists watching in what was a clear morbid fascination with the blood spilling, or well - greenish-red blood. Ectoplasma had changed him, in ways he wished he didn’t right now; Danny groaned but his mind shut down after that, unable to process what was happening to him.

Faintly remembering when they strapped a mask on his face, Danny was lulled into a sense of comfort - only to wake up with the knowledge his body wasn’t responding how it should, and he groaned, straining his eyes against the bright light of the-

Where was he? What happened to him?

“Oh good, you’re awake,” a voice called, sounding so sickly-sweet and leaving Danny’s skin crawling, “I was worried you’d wake up before we finished the procedure!”

Procedure?

He tried to speak, but his throat didn’t seem to be working properly- Danny whimpered as the scientist approached him with a widened smile, making him feel small and inferior. He couldn’t feel his fingers, nothing to prove he could move.

“Ngh,” he whined, efforts useless as he was pulled under again - mind growing foggier as if a blanket of cloud was being draped over his eyes. “L’mgo.”

His voice wasn’t working right, but before he could make out anything, Danny saw the corners of his vision growing blacker by the second. And just like that, everything was snuffed out - he could feel something thrumming, the faint noise only growing more refined as he slightly registered the experiments being done on him.

How long had he been missing? Would anyone come looking?

Until one day, everything changed.

His core’s thrums had only gotten steadily louder, ringing in his ears; Danny’s body jerked in discomfort, protesting for a second before something snapped in him- like it was contorting his bones, a hollowed scream escaping him. His fingers clawed against the metal flooring of the containment cell he had been moved to, the scraping getting worse as tears welled in his eyes.

What was happening to him?

He shrieked, a low buzzing sound becoming heavier by the second as his back suddenly arched upward and a wail left his lips - not exactly ghostly but certainly nowhere close to being human. Something buzzed again, and Danny was aware of approaching footsteps, running trying to cage him. He couldn’t- he wouldn’t let them hurt him.

Not again.

In front of him, someone startled at the thing inside the cage- beady yellow-green eyes tracking their every move before all hell broke loose. Wings buzzed as the creature blasted ectoplasma against the cell - melting it from the inside, and then - then the lights went out. Screams rang out as the insectoid ghost, or whatever it was, splattered blood; it left a mess in its wake, blood and bone and other fluids coating the floor, and then it was gone.

It basked in its newfound freedom.

It couldn’t stop it couldn’t, not until it was free.

Danny Fenton died that night.

From the forest, something watched - buzzing, but whatever it was… it was never seen again.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dannymay2024 #tw body horror #tw dissection #tw dissociation #guys in white #cross posted on ao3 #body horror warning #mild body horror

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