#Altprompt

[blaiddraws]

OH YEAH. another whumptober! using the alt prompt "shivering". fulcrum au akari doesn't do well with the cold...

[lostwhump]

@whumptober | Day #4: ALT PROMPT "Shivering" Big Sky - Happy Thoughts (2.10)

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Whumptober 2024 No.4

Prompt: Finding Old Messages (Alt)

Warnings: Angst, angst, angst. Emotional whump.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

gif is not mine - google

“What’s this?” You stared at the paper, a hastily drawn map to Alexandria but that wasn’t what unsettled you. It was the message beside it, Daryl’s handwriting.

I belong with you

Daryl flinched, his back facing you. You saw his shoulders tense under your gaze, understood that he knew of what you spoke without seeing it himself.

You asked again, “Daryl, what is this?” You stood, the paper between your fingers, Dog whining at your heels. “Was this her place?” He continued his silence. “Is this where you were with her?” His head dropped forward, fingers flexing at his sides. “It is.” You reasoned with a nod, grasping the note with both hands.

“Was hers. Came back an’ she was gone.” His voice was small, but the words were steady.

You nodded, letting the paper flutter to the floor. “So you chose me because you couldn’t have her.” It wasn’t a question but spurred him into an answer regardless. He finally turned, his blue eyes sad and apologetic.

“Wasn’t like that. Ain’t like that.”

You opened your mouth but snapped it shut, not trusting your words to be anything but venomous. With a shake of your head, you turned to the door and walked, not knowing where you were going but Dog followed on your heels.

“Y/N, don’t.” Daryl beckoned from the doorway once your boots had left the porch.

As difficult as it was, you turned, not bothering to wipe away the tears. “And all this time, I thought you belonged with me.”

He called your name as you disappeared into the trees, but he didn’t follow.

And you found that you didn’t want him to.

[whumble-beeee]

You Look So Much Prettier This Way

Poor Stan. What will you do to get out of this predicament, I wonder?

What will you do when fighting back isn't even an option?

Stan sat stunned. He couldn't speak. He couldn't scream for help, he couldn't complain, he couldn't quip, he couldn't stand, he couldn't struggle, hell, he could barely even move.

He wanted to cry.

His face hurt from where they punched him. His neck hurt from where they grabbed him. His entire body hurt from where they'd manhandled him to the ground and pinned him down and tied him up, choking him, punching him if he dared flinch, or god forbid he struggled against their grasp.

And after all that excessive tying, the rope that scratched against his tender skin and pressed in on his ribcage in a suffocating embrace.

They'd gotten out the duct tape. His heart stuttered, eyes wide. He started to scream, he kicked out at them.

Big mistake. As soon as they finished they mortifying ordeal of wrapping his mouth in layer after layer of duct tape, they slammed him down onto his back and hoisted his legs into the air, bent them into the most odd position, and by the time Stan realized that had still more rope, they were already wrapping it around his ankles and his thighs.

Over and over.

He tried to scream. They kicked him. He screamed some more into the duct tape gag. More blows. Tears. It didn't stop. He couldn't even curl in on himself to protect his soft underbelly.

Then they plopped him on the floor.

Surrounded him.

Appraised him, hungry eyes searching over his body.

Stan couldn't hold back the tears anymore.

The one he thought to be the leader stepped foreward.

Knelt in front of him, cupped Stan's cheek in their hand.

Stan could barely even find the strength to jerk away, and when he did, they just grabbed his collar and yanked him back, made him stare right into their ruthless shark-like eyes. And there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop them.

"You look so much prettier this way," they lulled. "I wonder if your friends will agree when they come to find you."

* * * * * * * *

Whumptober 2024 | Day 7 | The Bee's Whumptober Masterlist

Stan is an OC that belongs to The (Un)Official Guide to Hero-Keeping!

Whumptober Taglist: @whumperofworlds | @whumptober-archive | @regular-whump-sfx

(If you wanna be added or subtracted from the taglist, don't be afraid to ask!)

[forcebookish]

whumptober no.3: (alt) no-holds-barred beatdown

[aceofwhump]

Day 10: Alternate Prompt: Drugging

White Collar 5x04 | 9-1-1 Lone Star 4x04 | BBC Sherlock 3x01 | Lucifer 2x16 | NCIS 1x20 | Warehouse 13 3x07 | MacGyver 1x11 | The Mentalist 5x02 | Murdoch Mysteries 9x18 | Leverage: Redemption 1x09

@whumptober @whumptober-archive

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

Whumptober 2024 No. 28 Altprompt- Venom

I had to do so much research for this snippet guys, I really hope you like it!

“And this, my dear Hero, is where I keep my babies,” Villain said, opening a large metal door.

Hero followed them outside, astounded to see what looked like a mix between a zoo and a wildlife center. All kinds of exotic animals prowled about in enormous enclosures.

“Is this what you spent that stolen bank money on?” Hero asked in awe.

“Maybe~” Villain sang.

Villain strolled up to a tiger and petted it, the tiger purred loudly.

“Who’s a good boy, you are!” Villain cooed.

Hero kept their distance; they didn’t want to be tiger meat. Villain beckoned them over.

"He won’t bite,” Villain promised, “unless you’re a raw steak of course.”

Hero gulped, coming over. The tiger sniffed Hero’s hand, then pressed its head into it, purring. Hero stared slack-jawed as they stroked its fur.

“Aw, he likes you!” Villain smiled.

Villain showed Hero a number of other animals, all of which were rescued in some way or another and unfit to return to the wild. A scarlet macaw, a European badger, a very tiny species of deer. Suddenly, Villain’s face fell.

“Oh no,” they said, “not again.”

“What’s wrong?”

“My platypus,” Villain said, “he’s run off again.”

“Maybe he had to fight Dr. Doofenshmirtz,” Hero joked.

“Oh, this is no laughing matter, you have no idea what Percy is capable of.”

“What do you mean- AUGH!”

Something pinched their ankle, and Hero dropped to the ground, clutching it for dear life as electrifying pain exploded through it.

“Hero!” Villain shouted.

Villain bent down and picked up the offending animal; it was none other than Percy the platypus.

“No sir!” Villain scolded, putting Percy back in his home, “we do not sting people!”

“That thing is venomous!?” Hero screeched through the pain.

“Well, yes,” Villain said between Hero’s screams, “stay there, I have what you need.”

Villain ran to a cabinet near Percy’s enclosure. They pulled out a vial labeled “nerve-blocker” and a syringe. Filling it, they ran back to Hero’s side.

“Shh, I know, I know,” Villain soothed, “it’ll be over soon, I promise.”

Villain pulled up Hero’s pant leg and examined the wound. Their ankle was already quite swollen. Villain injected the contents of the syringe right into the envenomation site. After a few minutes, Hero’s screams died down to little whimpers.

“Why,” they panted, “do you have… that… in your collection!?”

“Percy can’t swim,” Villain said, “he wouldn’t make it very long in nature. I’ve gotten my fair share of stings from him. I’m just sorry you had to experience it. He is a bit skittish around visitors.”

Hero went to stand, but Villain stopped them.

“You won’t be able to walk for a few weeks,” Villain said, “I need to have you on nerve-blockers around the clock.”

“WHAT!?”

“Your symptoms won't subside until then, and you might still have trouble for a few months after that. Fortunately, I am delveoping an antivenom. I’ve been studying Percy’s venom and I think I almost have it down.”

“Wait… there’s no antivenom!?”

“No, but there will be as soon as I finish it,” Villain smiled awkwardly.

Hero couldn’t even feel their ankle now, which was far better than the last minute and a half, but that meant no heroics or anything at all really for some time.

“I’ll take care of you, Hero,” Villain said, seeming to read their thoughts.

Villain picked Hero up in a bridal carry and took them from the site, back inside their lair. They brought them up to a guest room and laid them down in a bed.

“I’ll get all the medical equipment hooked up to you,” Villain said, “and then we’ll talk about the recovery plan, okay?”

Hero nodded, their adrenaline wearing off and giving way to shock. In all of their fights, they had never felt pain like that. Percy was suddenly far more terrifying than any supervillain.

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[losthavenmine]

Whumptober 2023 Day 9 || Betrayal

Gladiator (2000)

[kybercrystals94]

Taking Up the Mantle

Read here on Ao3

Whumptober 2024 - Day 5 - Alternative Prompt: Forgotten

Rated: G | Words: 1939

Omega embraces him the moment Echo steps off his ship, her chin now able to hook over his shoulder without him bending down at all. “Welcome home, brother,” she says warmly. 

“It’s good to be home,” he says, pulling back, but keeping his hand on her arm. “You’ve grown a bit.” 

Omega grins and shrugs. “A bit,” she agrees. 

“Where are the boys?” Echo asks, noticing their absence from the landing platform.

“Supply run,” Omega says, “but they should be back later tonight or tomorrow morning.” 

They start walking toward the house, Omega linking her arm through Echo’s. 

“The supply run was a three man job?” Echo asks with a chuckle. 

Omega bumps against him playfully. “They get stir-crazy once in a while, so they all make an excuse to go. Sometimes I go with them, and sometimes I get the house to myself.” 

Echo laughs at that. “Well, we’ll get some time to catch up then.” 

“About that…” Omega says, the lightness of her voice vanishing. “I found something you need to see.” 

Echo stops walking, pulling Omega to a stop. “What is it?” 

Omega tries to smile reassuringly. “It’s nothing to be worried about, I promise. I just found something that I think…well, I hope…it will give you some closure.”

The assurance does nothing to ease the tension twisting like a knot in Echo’s chest. In fact, it feels substantially worse somehow. What in the galaxy could Omega know that would give Echo closure. Closure for what? He’d made peace with many tragedies in his life. It had become second nature, to bury and move on. A soldier couldn’t linger in what-ifs, not if they wanted to honor those who had gone before them or save those who would follow. 

“I’ll tell you everything when we get to the house,” Omega promises, dark eyes sorrowful and kind. Wise beyond her young years. But she isn’t so young anymore, Echo remembers, and she has lived longer than any of them, really. 

“Alright,” Echo relents and smiles if only to sooth the concern creasing Omega’s brow as she watches him. 

The rest of the walk to the house is Omega updating Echo on the island and its inhabitants they have come to know as good friends. The Batch have adapted well to domesticated life overall, if their domicile, as Tech would have called it, is anything to go by. A raised bed garden carefully tended, island flowers tamed and climbing the lattice. They are proud of their new life, and it shows. They’ve earned it, and Echo is happy his brothers have found peace. They call it his home too, even if he spends most of his time away. The chaotic brothers who took him in so long ago still keep him grounded like an anchor. 

“I’ll make us some tea,” Omega says the moment they are through the front door. Echo can’t help but smile at that, even with the apprehension looming. Omega is more like him in that way, enjoying a mild cup of tea over the pungent boldness of caf. 

“Sounds great,” he says, shedding his outer jacket and putting it on his hook in the entryway. 

He takes his pack to the room he shares with Hunter when he visits, dropping it on his bed and digging through it until he finds the trinket he’d found for Omega. It is a piece of wire twisted to look like a tooka. He wonders now if she’ll think it’s childish; however, on his way back to the main room, he passes by Omega’s open bedroom door and sees Lula perched proudly on her bed, the worn stuffed animal more faded than it was when he first met Wrecker’s beloved toy. 

He hears Omega clattering around in the kitchen, her voice speaking softly to someone. He goes in and finds the droid, AZI, hovering underfoot, Omega moving around him effortlessly. 

“Echo!” AZI cries when he sees him. “Omega has been upgrading my systems.” 

“That so?” Echo asks conversationally, sitting down at the table where Omega has already put his favorite mug full of hot water. He can smell the aroma of his favorite tea steeping inside. 

“Indeed!” crows AZI, whirring over to his side. “She has found several glitches, as well as lapses in my memory banks.” 

“AZI,” Omega cuts the little droid off, her tone a warning, “We’ll get to that in a minute.” 

Echo tries to ignore the knot continuing to tighten in his chest. 

Omega slides into the chair across from Echo. She takes a deep breath and begins, “Months before the end of the Clone Wars, Nala Se was gone for several days. Usually, she’d leave AZI with me, but not this time. She told me that he had been tampered with by a trooper and had to be repaired. When I tried to ask more questions, Nala Se got angry with me and told me to leave the matter alone. It was not for me to worry about.” 

Echo frowns, unsure what any of this had to do with him. It will give you some closure.

“When AZI finally returned to the lab, he had no memory of anything that had happened. His memory banks had been wiped, and at the time, I didn’t know how to retrieve lost data. Although, it was more curiosity that made me try than fear of what happened. After all, I trusted Nala Se. If she said I didn’t need to know, then I didn’t.

“I forgot all about the incident, and in light of everything that happened after the war ended, it seemed unimportant.” Omega picks up a data pad that had been left on the table. “Then, a few days ago, AZI was experiencing glitches in his internal systems. I programmed a software update, and went through his data files to find any broken links in his code. That’s when I found this. The file was so small, and had been removed from his main memory banks, so I decided to translate it.” She slides the data pad across the table. 

Echo picks it up, the screen a series of ones and zeroes. Binary. 

01001001 01001101 01010000 01001111 01010010 01010100 01000001 01001110 01010100 00111010 00100000 01101000 01101001 01110011 00100000 01101110 01100001 01101101 01100101 00100000 01101001 01110011 00100000 01000110 01101001 01110110 01100101 01110011 00101110 00100000

His grip on the data pad goes slack and it clatters to the table, nearly landing on his mug. 

Echo can read binary as well as he can read Basic. The Techno Union made sure of that. IMPORTANT: His name is Fives.

Omega flinches. “Are you okay?” she asks softly. 

Echo’s mouth feels dry, his throat tight. He tries to regain his composure, but his voice is thick when he asks, “What does it mean? Why did he have this?” 

It is AZI that answers him. “It was important that I remembered his name. He told me that clones do not use numbers anymore. He was my friend.” 

“How did you know him?” Echo asks. “You were on Kamino…”

“ARC Trooper Fives was brought to Kamino for medical observation,” AZI says. His eyes flicker, and he doesn’t say anymore. 

“I recovered as much of the wiped data from those dates as I could,” Omega says. “It seems AZI was able to hide some memory files in his core programming before the wipe.” 

“That is against protocol,” AZI adds, “But Fives was excellent at not following protocol when it was important to do so. I followed his example.” 

Omega smiles. “I found some footage that AZI recorded. There isn’t much, but I thought you would want to see it.” 

Echo nods. He feels numb. Maybe it’s the shock of realizing he’s been so close to this data all along, the files hidden so deep, but he could have found them if he’d looked. But he never thought to, never tried…Fives was so close all along.

AZI backs away from the table, and a holo projector opens in his chest. A recording begins to project, AZI’s perspective following an obviously agitated Fives around a medical room. 

“...a case like this, it is the logical course of action,” AZI is saying. 

“No,” Fives says, turning to face AZI, anger clear on his face even through the distorted blue lines of the projection, “No. We were not created to be disposed of this way.”

“Perhaps you were,” AZI counters calmly. 

Fives whirls around, slamming his fists down on the hard surface of a medical cot. Echo hears his brother’s breathing shudder. An ache in his heart pangs at the sound. 

AZI’s voice continues, “CT-5385 will be terminated so that others like him could survive.”

Fives turns on the droid. “There aren’t others like him!” he shouts, the audio crackling at the input. “Tup doesn’t have to die. You found a tumor. I’m sure that’s the cause of all this. It’s the only thing that makes sense.” 

The recording sputters and flickers away to nothing. 

“That was the only visual footage I could recover myself,” Omega says softly, “but I found some transcripts. AZI helped Fives remove his inhibitor chip, and they discovered that all clones had them implanted at gestation. He was going to present the evidence that AZI helped him find. He was trying to save our brothers.” 

“But he was killed instead,” Echo says bitterly, fingers curling into a fist. “Rex told me what happened when he got to Coruscant.” 

Omega reaches across the table and rests a hand over Echo’s. “It is because of Fives that Rex found out about the chips, because of Fives that Rex warned us about the effects.” 

Echo can’t lift his gaze to meet his sister’s. The burning sensation prickling his eyes threatens to spill tears should he see the look of earnest empathy on her face. 

When he doesn’t answer, Omega continues, “You’re finishing what Fives started, Echo. You’re helping our brothers. You helped us. I’m sorry I never met Fives, because he sounds like he would have fit right in with Clone Force 99.” 

Echo swallows. 

“And he would have been so proud of you, Echo.” 

A tear slips through the barrier, and Echo pulls his hand from Omega’s to rub it away, trying to erase its track from his face. 

AZI draws closer again. “I have analyzed the data of my friend, ARC Trooper Fives, and I must agree with Omega.” 

“Thank you,” Echo forces out. “Both of you.”

Omega picks up the data pad and opens a file before handing it back. “These are the transcripts I was able to recover.” 

Echo  takes it, finding that the data has already been translated from binary into Basic. Words jump out at him, words his brother said, words his brother said leading up to his death…

“AZI and I are going to the market to pick up dinner,” Omega says suddenly, standing and putting her mug in the sink. As she walks past him, she clasps his shoulder briefly, a familiar gesture he’s received a thousand times from brothers all his life. “We’ll let you get settled.” 

And Echo realizes that the Batch being away on a supply run isn’t just happenstance. 

He reads through the transcripts slowly, absorbing his brother’s words, his determination to do the right thing no matter the consequences. Fives was the same and grown, and Echo was just months from being able to see him again. 

Omega is right. Fives would have loved the Batch, and he would be proud of Echo too. 

But not nearly as proud as Echo is of him. 

Not by a lightyear. 

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[noforkingclue]

Back (Five x reader)

Summary: he was back at last. He thought his time in hell was over but really, it had continued but in a different way

Warnings: Five has feelings for the reader but the reader DOES NOT for Five

This was hell.

Trapped in a body that hadn’t even gone through puberty yet and with a mind of a far older man.

And he had gone through this over and over and over again until he finally found his way out.

It was over but at the same time it wasn’t. While the physical effects were over the memories remained. The memories of being trapped, living the same day over and over and-

“Is everything ok?”

And then there was you. Your family were friends of his father, if you could really call him that. While you didn’t have any powers your family was wealthy and influential enough for them to be deemed suitable. None of them really appreciated you at the time, the only bit of sanity in their lives.

You smiled faintly at him and sat down next to him. He glared at you as you handed over a cup of coffee.

“It’s half decent,” you said, “at least I hope so.”

It was better than that. It was what he needed to pull him out of his thoughts. Still, he could feel the effect it was having on this stupid fucking body. A body that was too young for him. He was getting too hot, too many thoughts were whirring about his mind.

But at least time was steady. Time was… stable-ish for now. He was in one place in his body which felt so alien. So strange. He’d been through puberty once before and he despised those thoughts. Why did the body he ended up in have to be this one.

And why did you have to sit so close?

Why did your perfume smell so fucking good.

What that the scent of your shampoo?

Did your hair always look so good?

And did you always look at him like that?

The softness in your eyes. He vaguely remembered that look. It was one your parents gave you. Familial love. A love that had been so deprived from his own childhood (if you could call it that). This was hell, not only on his mind but his body. Going through this again, with an adult you, with his adult mind and teenage body.

It almost made him wish he was stuck in that damned time loop.

“Five?”

Your gentle voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He glared at you and took another gulp of his coffee.

“What makes you think this is ok?” he snapped, “the fucking apocalypse is going to start fucking soon and you’re here being…”

‘Fucking distacting.’

“Fucking useless.”

He got up and stormed away. You were right though, the coffee was half decent. You just sighed and shook your head.

“Same old Five.” you muttered

[amethystfairy1]

"Where are my KEYS!?" -Scott, probably.

AND SO IT BEGINS

I'M SO EXCITED

IT'S THE MOST WONDERFUL TIME OF THE YEAR EVERYONE

WHUMPTOBER!!!!

Please enjoy the first fic of my attempt to complete a month long writing challenge yet again, hopefully I can manage it this time! 😅

[blaiddraws]

surprise! I'm doing whumptober apparently. first one is an alt prompt, "secrets revealed". looks like someone caught were-zoroark zisu at a bad moment 🤔

[lostwhump]

@whumptober | Day #25: ALT PROMPT "Friendly Fire L.A. Confidential (1997)

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Whumptober 2024 No.3

Prompt: Shivering (Alt)

Warnings: Mentions of injury

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

gif by @mcbride

The small fire did little against the cold. Daryl had fashioned a tent of sorts out of branches and leaves but chilling droplets of rain seeped through with ease, only keeping your already wet clothing in its perpetual state. The wound in your side still wept, the loss of blood not helping matters in the least.

“How’re ya holdin’ up?” Daryl asked as he added more to the fire. Dry kindling was impossible to locate so he had resorted to burning some of the extra clothing in his bag to keep the flames alight. “Lemme take a look at it.”

“It’s no different than it was five minutes ago, Daryl. Stop fussing.” You admonished gently, clasping his wrist as he reached for the wound. You brought his chilled fingers to your lips and kissed them before tugging on his arm. “Sit close to me. You’re a human furnace. You’ll keep me warm until they find us.” The pallor of his bruised and bloody face begged to differ but if it would keep him from his nervous fidgeting and soothe his anxiety, it was a lie worth telling.

His jaw moved, bottom lip tucked between his teeth. With a smile, you tugged again and this time he let you pull him toward you, settling in at your good side to pull you close. Surprisingly, your shivering lessened and you felt your body growing heavier with fatigue.

“Getcha home in the morning, with or without ‘em. Won’t let nothin’ else happen to ya.” And as you hummed and huddled closer, feeling his hold around you tighten, you knew you’d be fine.

[whumpypepsigal]

Whumptober 2024 | Day 5

Alt. prompt: Shivering

Gyeongseong Creature s02e05: “…I feel really cold.”

[adrift-in-thyme]

Whumptober Day 3: Friendly Fire

Ao3 link

- Legend & Four

- Summary: Legend risks everything to save Four

CW for blood/injury and possession

——————————————————-

He should have seen it coming.

That is what he thinks as he stares down at the blade that protrudes from his abdomen. That is what he thinks as his knees weaken and fail, as blood turns his flesh slick and sticky; as raging, roaring pain engulfs him.

He should have known. Damn it, he should’ve known. 

Legend’s knees hit the ground with a finality so thick it rattles his teeth. 

He let himself grow too comfortable. He dared to trust in what his eyes saw, what his hands touched, the roads his feet walked. He allowed himself to believe that this beautiful dream was anything but. 

He believed that they were real. 

It would be easier now if they weren’t.

If this was a dream, he could open his eyes and breathe. He wouldn’t have to see Time lying crumpled, motionless, wouldn’t have to hear Wind crying his name between bitten-out sobs. He wouldn’t have to see Warriors and Twilight trying to stand on failing legs with one another's support. He wouldn’t have to hear Hyrule’s dangerously raspy breaths, see Sky’s eyes roll back in his head as he finally falls, hear Wild’s choked cry at the loud crack his skull makes against a nearby rock.

He…he wouldn’t have to lift his head now, he wouldn’t have to lift his head and stare into the eyes of a brother, someone he had trusted, someone he had loved.

Hell. Who’s he kidding? 

He still loves him. He still trusts him.

How could he not? This was never his fault.

Legend raises his eyes and makes himself look. Four is there, just as he knew he would be. His eyes are darkened, just as he knew they would be. Shards of deepest purple embed themselves within his skin, humming with a heinous melody. They crowd beneath his left eye, forming an ellipse like a tear.

The veteran lifts a hand, brushes his thumb over it. Four doesn't move. Not now. He had raced about before, splitting and reforming with lightning speed. He had doubled, tripled, quadrupled the ferocity of his attacks upon those already inundated with monsters, gone for the weak spots only a brother would know. But not now.

His foes are felled. Why should he not freeze here? What good is a pawn without a mission?

Is his mind empty now? Legend wonders. Can he feel? Can he think?

Or can he only hear screams?

“Smithy.” The name hisses out from between his lips, born upon agony, washed away by blood. “Four…”

Fight it.

This is not you.

Don’t let the Shadow win!

We’re here for you.

Come back!

They have all said them all. Legend doesn’t have much breath left and he doesn’t plan to waste it. Veteran of hero business or not, he won’t flatter himself to believe the words will have any more power coming from him.

Especially not from him. They ring hollow flying from the lips of the one who, not so very long ago, slayed four fractured phantoms.

He would rather die than do so again.

So, instead, he says, “keep your eyes on me.”

Instead he says, “take a deep breath.”

Instead he says, “this is gonna hurt like hell.”

Blood bubbling from his lips, pain like lightning in his veins, determination running hot, he digs his fingernails into the tear of glass and metal. 

There is a place deep within his gut where his magic curls, like a kitten slumbering softly. It is exhausted from the battle already, strained with the task of simply keeping him alive. But when he barges through the silken walls of its sanctuary, when he begs it to come forth once more, it unfurls its powerful body, roaring at his desperate cries. It rises and lunges, a prowling lion released. 

He and his magic are one. Their bond is one that is deeper than all others, stronger than all others. So, when he pours it into Four’s screaming, thrashing form, he pours his own soul along with it.

There is little chance of coming back from this. He knows that, his magic knows that. But he was a dead man the moment Four’s blade brought him to his knees. There are no fairies left, no potions. The remnants of empty bottles are strewn in jagged shards amongst items dropped from trembling fingers, blood dripped from shaking hands. 

He’s going down, whether he likes it or not. But before he does, he will rid Four of this dark influence. 

To gaze upon his crimes will break him. Given time, however, he will be able to get back up. To live a life of mindless servitude will turn his spirit to ash. 

Four’s screams are deafening now. Legend can’t tell if his own have joined or if it is only the smithy’s that ring in his ears. The agony in every part of him, however, that he knows is his own. 

His vision is a clouded mix of blacks and grays. The acrid taste of iron is on his tongue. His lungs heave, his heart pounds. Their efforts are in vain. Ever inhale garners a thin bit of air. The blood that should be circulating throughout his body runs down his stomach, puddles beneath his legs. 

He is getting closer though. He feels it, feels the slight give in the defense. The darkness within Four is desperate. It is scared. It had lashed out violently at the start, battered his mind and soul, so certain it could win through brute force alone. But now it has begun to cower before his perseverance.

Legend grins, all sharp edges of white and red. 

Just a little longer and he’ll be there…

Oh, you didn’t know? He sneers at the beast that backs up before him, whispers of darkness dissipating into the sun. Stubbornness is my principal characteristic. 

You never stood a chance against me. 

It snarls, lunges. Legend draws back just enough to gather his remaining strength, then with infuriated abandon, rushes forward. 

The gray-scale world lights up in shades of violet and pink, petals of flame open to face the smiling sky. His magic screeches, his body burns. His head snaps back, blood on lips, trailing from his eyes, filling his nose. Four bucks beneath his hold. 

The blade finds him again in a last ditch effort of hopelessness, finds him and twists. 

Legend screams. Something snaps. Everything goes dark.