Adult-FanFiction.org : Games

Love, and Pain, and Darkness	By : wickedorin Category: Zelda > General Views: 4343 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Legend of Zelda game series, nor any of the characters from them. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Love, and Pain, and Darkness
- 1
"Love, and Pain, and Darkness" and the overall concept of "Love, and Pain,
and Darkness" is completely copyright Orin Drake 2004. The Legend
of Zelda, all areas/locations and characters mentioned in this story,
are owned by Nintendo. But, since I'm not making money off of this
and I tend to be a rabid Legend of Zelda fan, I figure I can at
least explore the darker side some more, hm?

        Background: It started
to write itself. All I had were those first three sentences, not
even knowing it would be a Zelda fanfic... On that line of
thought, I have no idea exactly what happened or how... but I refuse to
blame it on the music I've been listening to lately. Heh. Really,
I was just sick of all of the shitty writing concerning this particular
pairing. (Not that I'm insulting every author that deals with the
pairing by any means--I do have favorites.) I needed one I could
really
enjoy, so... I wrote it myself.

        WARNING!!!!
Non-consensual sex on the way! I say "non-consensual" when
I really mean "not entirely non-consensual" or perhaps even "mostly non-consensual"
but a lot of people don't tend to understand that so it's better to just
say BEWARE OF RAPE FIC so one get bitches and proves themselves a big stupid
moron for reading and getting offended regardless of my warning.
Oh, don't let that stop you, of course. Flamers are fun toys.

Love, and Pain, and Darkness

by Orin Drake
        There was love there.
And pain. And darkness. But mostly... mostly a homesickness
that would not cease. Would not go away, even though he had come
back home.

        Or at least... what he'd
thought had been home. Wasn't that what he'd wanted, after all?
To be a kid again, to be young and innocent and... and...

        And forget, dammit.
He'd wanted to forget... everything. All of the awful, horrific shit
he'd been through. Had done. Had been done to him. Oh,
Goddesses... leave it dead. Or kill it off again. Please.
Please.
Please.

        Months ago--even mere days
ago--he'd been happy. Perfectly happy in his innocence, his ignorance,
his lack of all memory regarding that goddamned world outside the village.
It had been as though nothing had happened to interrupt his life...

        And then the dreams came.
Very strange, at first. Mildly frightening, not quite nightmares,
but... not good dreams by any stretch. Dreams of a world outside
that he certainly had never seen, and yet... seemed too familiar.
Of creatures that he was certain he'd never even heard of that knew his
name... of monsters and dangers and pain that he didn't care to even dream
about. Horrible fears, disturbing places, and a dark thief from an
unknown desert that threatened to tear the very world to shreds...

        They were all dreams for
a while. And he could still wake up and play and be happy... for
a while. Until one day when he dreamt of a ruby-eyed guide named
Sheik and an empty-eyed enemy that mimicked his own, adult form...

        He'd woken up screaming.
Saria had come, moments later, to calm him--but it didn't work. Seeing
Saria again nearly left him catatonic until she touched him, proved herself
real... He'd looked down at his hands, shouting something about a
realm, temples, sages... he'd looked at his hands and noticed how small
they were. They weren't supposed to be that small. And
where was his sword? Where was Epona? The Ocarina. Zelda!
What of the princess?

        Saria was startled.
Downright terrified, in fact--she backed away from her insanely rambling
friend, eyes wet with waking nightmare tears. He seemed well beyond
the point where he could be calmed down, but she didn't want to run away
from him. No, there was... there was no reason to be afraid of him!
But... she was. Something in him... something was not right.
Something had... snapped. Changed. Been shredded apart and
undone. She backed away... then climbed down the ladder. If
she couldn't stay with him inside... she would hold vigil outside.
That was... the worst nightmare anyone had ever had, she was sure.
She was sure.

        Link sat on the edge of the
warp to Zora's Domain, staring down at his hands and remembering how the
knowledge had come back to him. He was supposed to be happy.
He was supposed to be innocent. Nothing was certain anymore.

        He'd cried alone for an
awfully long time. Sobbing until his throat was raw and there were
no tears left. For what, he couldn't answer... but it was
mostly for himself. He could admit that. But, more... he'd
been through every memory of every person he had ever met. How dear
some of them had become in that short period of time. And he wondered...
if they weren't all safe and unsuspecting right at that moment.

        Would it happen again?
Was that why the memories weren't completely forgotten?

        That's what had gotten
him. That line of thought was what had triggered the rage, the guilt,
the overwhelming sadness, and there was no other way to deal with it than
to break down completely.

        Once, he had been a boy.
A boy who happily thought he was Koroki, to live safe and warm in the forest,
and remain a child forever. And then everything had been torn away
from him--all he'd known was no longer true. The world was large
and scary; and all on his shoulders.

        Never once had he broken
down while he was fighting. Even in the harshest of moments, he'd
never backed down. Bleeding, badly hurt, bones broken... he had never
once shattered. It was now, now that he'd been given a taste of what
should
have been...

        He'd brought his dagger
with him. To ease things, maybe. He stared at it through the
speckled sunlight, holding it in his palm...

        Blood. It was thick,
sticky, slippery and the smell was enough to turn anyone's stomach.
There was always an ample amount of blood.

        So why he wished for more
was... almost laughable. Were he able to laugh right then, with the
intensity of the moment...

        The small Koroki dagger
wore the color of crimson, of life itself, only on its tip; but that was
enough. To see it again... to feel the wound... he needed this.
Oh, Goddesses, he needed this... It hurt, it bled, it got
deeper. He looked at the wound, really acknowledged
it, and knew it as his own. For the first time in his life, it was
a
wound he'd inflicted upon himself. And that... felt good.

        He knew, though... deep
down he understood that if anyone had caught him as he was, he would be
absolutely ashamed. But not as much as... as he was because of...

        He shivered, closing his
eyes against the sudden rush of sensation, emotion. He'd only felt
that way once before. It was what he felt at that moment, remembering,
that was truly something he should be ashamed of. That shiver up
his spine... the warmth... the fear... and that goddamn thing that
was so far beyond desire that he had no way of understanding it.

        He'd liked Zelda a little,
hadn't he? Well, sure... but Malon sort of... made him blush.
That was all he'd known about... any of it... before...

        He shivered again, barely
able to suppress the beginnings of a moan in the back of his throat as
his eyes closed on their own accord. Yes, that... that had been...
when he'd...

        The Water Temple had not
been fun. (As if any of the journey could be.) He recalled
thinking that it was really the most horrible so far in his travels...
even worse than being inside a giant fish. That was stretching it
pretty far. All he wanted was for all of it to be over.

        Unfortunately, he knew that
the room he'd fought so hard to get to held a treasure that he could make
very good use of. And, if he were really lucky, whatever the next
room held would be able to let him avoid getting wet quite so often.
Swimming no longer held any of the fun that it used to.

        Of course, from where he
stood--panting, trying to give his sore arms and legs a little bit of a
rest before the next battle took place--not much held the fun that it once
did when he was a child. And an upcoming fight to wrestle a trophy
of the temple away... ugh.

        With a deep breath, half
resignation and half pure need to go on, he stood in front of the door...
and it opened. The entire contents of the room, however... was puzzling.
Shocking. And pure illusion.

        He could feel the very beginning
of a headache creeping up the back of his skull, doing everything in his
power to suppress a moan. The illusion itself was very beautiful;
there was a startling tree in the center of what looked to be a lake shortly
after dawn (or perhaps at dusk), the water shimmering softly. Oh,
if only the illusion would hold...

        He stepped in carefully,
almost afraid that he may fall into the water. Of course, he didn't--only
illusion. None of the walls showed themselves, but he knew they were
there behind the fog. Slowly, carefully, he moved closer to the tree,
keeping his senses very much aware. No motions, no sounds, no smells
that he could note being out of place... yet. It was a matter of
time--the sword tight in his hand, shield readied...

        Then, as he stepped within
inches of the tree, something flickered beside him. It was a peculiar
thing--almost like a trick of the light that had passed out of the corner
of his eye. He easily would have dismissed it as a tired trick of
his mind if he were anywhere but a temple.

        Something sharp pricked
the depths of his mind, his instincts telling him to turn and look behind
him--but he became nearly sorry that he'd listened. The defender
of the room's treasure was indeed flickering to life before him.
It looked to be... a dark mirror image of--himself?!

        His stomach fell by degrees.
Yes, of course. Ganondorf would have such a sick sense of
humor. Raising his sword and crouching, he made to lunge--until he
gazed upon those answering eyes. Glowing, crimson... and alive.
Knowing. Sentient.

        Worse... oh, Goddesses,
so much worse... the dark being spoke. In the hero's voice.
"Link."

        He could not answer.
He didn't speak. He couldn't. He was... too afraid.

        He, the Hero of Time, the
boy that stood up to Ganondorf more than once, had made it his life's mission
to do so... had been afraid. Of that... mere shadow.

        The thought enraged him--and
the shadow minion noticed. Link swiped, but the dark reflection rolled
out of the way. Again the hero thrust forward and down, but the shadow
caught the Master Sword with his own, darkened version of the blade before
darting away, out of reach.

        With a growl, Link pulled
the hookshot from his side, pulling the trigger even before he'd taken
the proper time to aim. The chain shot past the dark figure, but
not missing by far. Cursing, the hero was forced to wait until the
chain returned. Too angry and overcome with the adrenaline of battle
to think entirely clearly, he shot again instantly.

        Exactly what had happened
would never be entirely clear. It was too fast, with too many factors
gone wrong to take the time to work out. What did become clear later,
was that his aim was only true for the tree. He hadn't realized that
until he was already being pulled toward it. The next instant, he'd
felt himself slam up against the trunk--but back-first. As he recalled,
when he'd tried to dart away and prepare for a slightly more intelligent
strike, he'd been unable. The chain had found itself wrapped around
him, binding his upper arms so tightly to the trunk that he couldn't so
much as flex them without the chains biting painfully into the flesh they
already marked.

        It wasn't that he wouldn't
have been able to work all of that out at the moment it happened... in
any usual situation. What made his thoughts falter was the viciously
grinning vision of his dark mirror image before him, looking far too satisfied
with his hands on his hips. The only thing the hero was able to think,
to understand, was a helpless breed of danger.

        "This is what you need,
my brother..." the shadow-beast hissed. "Accept it. My gift
to you."

        Link's jaw slackened--shock
and confusion ran through him. What the hell was that monster
talking about? Some gift, he was sure. He struggled
despite the compression of his chest, the growing soreness in his arms,
kicked out at the figure--immediately regretful. He'd taken too deep
of a breath when he'd prepared to strike out, the chain far too tight.
The crushing pain of the hookshot's tightening line was getting worse.

        The shadowy mirror only
seemed to smirk, pulling a black as night dagger from its belt. "Hold
still, hero." It warned, taking an unnaturally quick step closer.

        Link hissed venom as his
tunic was suddenly, swiftly cut from him. No time to make sense of
that. Tensing, keeping his breath controlled, waiting for the moment
when he could lash out and--

        It seemed his tunic was
not the only thing to be cut from his body. He felt the razor's edge
of the knife against his thigh as it traveled down and to the side...
Stricken by fear, surprise, and the absolute knowledge that any motion
he made could welcome severe damage to himself, he was perfectly still.
Never in his life did he think it was possible to be that motionless...
but he managed.

        The fear switched back to
shock as his boots were pulled swiftly from him, every last stitch of clothing
finding its way into the "water" beneath him. Such a thing seemed...
utterly ridiculous. What sort of advantage would a minion of Ganondorf
hope to achieve by doing something so nonsensical? Even that aside...
his clothes, dammit! How dare that beast destroy his
memories of home?!

        And then the dark reflection
stood straight up again, meeting the hero's eyes with it's own glowing
crimson orbs. There was something so... justified in that
expression. So terrifyingly certain of what it was doing. In
that gaze was the promise of every horror Link had ever dreampt--and more
that he never dared to look at. It was so intense that it actually
made the hero flinch, his eyes closing involuntarily.

        A dark chuckle answered.
Full of malice. Of hurt. The desire to inflict terrible pains
was never so close, so apparent.

        Link's eyes, previously
squeezed shut as tightly as his muscles would allow, flashed open in wide,
sightless terror. What he felt against his neck... was not a blade.
Nor was it the cruel grasp of a hand, or any other weapon... it was...
lips?!

        Th-that... was not... appropriate.
Not... not a fair way to fight...

        And certainly not when the
lips switched to a warm, moist tongue, sliding gently from his shoulder
and up his neck, to just behind his ear--ending in a sharp, unexpected
nip. Something in him recoiled immediately... but something else
turned his startled gasp into a quiet moan.

        The sound was hardly there
at all... but the lips against his neck quivered delicately upward.
Yes... this would be beautiful. Another nip, lasting longer, biting
just a touch harder--before the tongue found the indentation and soothed
the pain deviously.

        No. The hero's mind
could not process the information. There... there was... no sense...
to this. It was not something he... knew. Nor understood.
W-what... how could something disgust, revolt, pain... and yet... and...
yet... Sightless eyes still wide, panicked--a brightest, living blue
mirroring a knowing blood red.

        Something pressed against
his lips without warning. Regardless of the shock, his instincts
took over--the fight was again within him.

        "Now, now." The shadow
image chided in a deepened, breathy voice. "Don't bite or you won't
survive." Forcing his fingers past the previous barrier of teeth,
he continued. "And you do want to live to defeat the wicked Ganondorf,
don't you?"

        Too many things were going
through the hero's mind to allow him to compute any of the circumstances
surrounding the entire incident. Yes, of course he wanted to live
to destroy Ganondorf. Did that mean he would have to be still so
the monster before him wouldn't choke him? Wouldn't force him to
swallow his own tongue? What the hell was going on?! Why were
his eyes closing on their own accord as his tongue was forcibly tasting
the fingers traveling in and out of his mouth?

        The dark reflection finally,
almost gently, pulled his fingers away entirely. Taking advantage
of the other's closed eyes, he took a moment to appreciate the half-erect
sight resting in front of his target. Poor boy... had no idea what
he was in for, did he? Of course, neither did the shadow. He
was only created mere days ago. Or perhaps weeks. Perhaps months.
It mattered little. He was programmed only to destroy the Hero of
Time... but, too, he was given something the others were not--a true dark
reflection of the hero himself. Tisk tisk--it seemed desire was a
strong thing.

        The first tentative press
against a very surprising area of his body caused Link to cry out and struggle
again, confused and scared more than anything else. Unfortunately,
his struggles only made it easier for the dark mirror to force a single
finger into the untouched entrance, making the hero scream again; in pain.

        Music to the shadow's ears,
he sighed and relaxed against the other's warm body. Such a shame
the chains had to be in the way... such a shame they weren't causing blood
to flow. Oh, he would remedy that soon enough. Without giving
the hero a chance to adjust, a second finger found its way inside.

        Another cry of agony.
The third finger wrenched something both sing-song and voice-breaking rom
his throat, the scream itself only have voice before it fell into silenced
gasping. Warmth... he could feel a horrible, liquid warmth...

        That was the dark image's
trigger. The smell, the feel, the sight of the blood... he couldn't
hold himself back any longer. He needed something so much more...
It had grown intensely from the need to merely cause the hero pain, to
the need to... express himself further. Only a shadow, he banished
the illusion of clothing from his own being.

        Link's eyes squeezed shut
as tears welled up, throwing his head wildly to distract himself from the
most horrible agony that he had ever experienced in his entire life.
It was... nothing like he'd felt before. No amount of burning,
bruising, poison, shredding... could amount to... The searing pain
was mixed with a stripping, tearing, intimate damage that he simply couldn't
understand. It seared places that he wasn't even aware could
undergo so much pain, traveling all the way up his spine as it burned through
him. His voice no longer worked, his teeth too tightly gnashed together
to let go a scream anyway.

        The shadowed mirror gasped
unexpectedly. Even in its short span of existence, it had never experienced...
this. What was it? Pleasure? Slick, warm, delicious...
j-joy? Seated all the way inside of his programmed rival... he felt...
he... he felt. Felt. Truly... felt.

        Red eyes snapped shock open,
it's dark body reacting more by instinct than anything else. Another
rough thrust rendered a horrifying breathy sob from the hero. The
dark figure watched the pain-covered face... and could only think of how
beautiful it was. How perfectly the torment twisted the features...
and how it wasn't all that unlike a look of severe... pleasure..?

        The shadowed mirror had
reached down for a teasing stroke of the finally, fully erect toy--and
somewhere, buried deep within his subconscious, Link understood only that
he was not to shy away from the touch. That seemed ludicrous, absolutely
insane; until a firm hand rested around his length and stroked.

        The pain was still crystal
clear, no doubt was cast around that. But... there was something
almost as strong in another long, drawn-out motion inside of him, mimicking
the ones outside. It was nonsensical, confusing as hell... but not
altogether unwanted. He couldn't open his eyes... he could not allow
himself the vision of his tormentor.

        Blood was suddenly thicker
in the air than the stench of ancient water. Blood and... something
else that neither of them had ever encountered before. It was strange,
bitter... but... but not... not a bad smell...

        All possible illusion of
control was shattered. Where the delicious torture had turned into
only the need to complete what had started... didn't matter. All
that existed, all that was valid, was the need to continue--the
need to thrust and to rub against. Moans, gasps, pleading and wordless,
desperate motions, heat and blood and scents and feelings of things unknown...

        Throwing his head back,
Link cried out in a way he had never heard before--overcome by a sensation
of pleasure so great that it almost seemed to consume him entirely, leaving
his limp and strangely satisfied body in its wake. He was suddenly
glad for the hookshot that bound him to the tree, keeping him upright even
as he could find no strength in his body to stand.

        An answering cry sounded
from shadowy lips, leaving more burning warmth and tremors in its wake.
Slowly, as surreal and careful as a dream, he slid away from the confined
body, back into the false pool underneath.

        The hero's body slumped
forward entirely. His conscious mind was far beneath a sea of grey--but
his body told him that he wanted that warmth back. He nearly leaned
toward it, the chains still binding him--at first. At that moment,
the hookshot's spear end unwedged itself from the tree, snapping back to
the handle and dropping Link into the illusion of water.

        It woke him. While
it may not have been entirely real... it hadn't felt entirely fake.
The events of the last few moments were echoed horribly with the severe
pain raging throughout his body.

        This now... this was rage.
Pure, hateful, vibrant. What had just been done to him... he knew.
He knew that it could never be undone. Pain. Pain and
rage and blood and sickness. Stooping despite the red-hot shards
deep inside, he snatched up his shield and sword (had they fallen when
he was pulled toward the tree, or had he dropped them..?) resting at the
base of the tree, growling toward the still stumping form of his shadowed
mirror image. Voice or no voice, to himself he had screamed--driving
the blade straight through the chest of the dark form.

        If it had stopped there,
it still would have been effective. He couldn't stop, though.
Just couldn't. He pulled the blade nearly all the way out before
thrusting
it through again. And again. And again, before he twisted
it, ignoring the agonized cries, the sound of bone snapping as he kept
twisting, yanking, running through...

        And then the illusion of
his dark mirror self faded altogether. Alone, triumphant, he stood
there. The image of water slowly disappearing all around him, eyes
wide. Panting. Shaking. One hand expertly around the
Master Sword, the other grasping his shield... but still he did not feel
safe.

        Ignoring the quivering in
his fingers, he placed the shield on his back, put the sword back in its
place... then picked up the hookshot with apprehension. He took a
moment to look at it... to stare at the thing which had been merely a tool
to help him along in his journey. It had been turned... dirty.
Had been used for... for things against his very... for his...

        With a soul-freezing shudder,
he cast the hookshot against the suddenly apparent far wall as hard as
he could manage. The tool shattered, the chain falling on the cold
floor in broken disdain.

        As much as he had found
uses for that thing... he could keep it with him no longer. It was
too sordid, too painful... and he would simply have to make do without
it.

        Ignoring all other things,
he advanced upon the treasure chest he had just endured so much to obtain.
Opening it with some semblance of hope, its treasure stunned him to blankness.

        It was... a longshot.

        He thought... that he might
cry. Wail endlessly, uncontrollably... but there were no sounds.
Hardly a breath.

        The youth recalled every
event as clearly as if it had just happened. Happened again.
Would
happen again, if he went through this insane time warp all over again.

        Damn him. Damn
him!!!

        He squeezed the blade's
hilt, raising it to slice the hand cursed with the symbol of the Triforce
clean off. Without the mark, destiny could surely not expect him
to go through the insane quest all over again!

        He couldn't. He couldn't
do it. For one, the dagger was exactly as the dark figure's dagger
had been--only lighter.

        "Fuck you!" he wanted
to scream. To everyone he'd ever known, to the woods themselves.

        He could never truly be
a child again. He remembered... everything. So much worse than
simple bad dreams... so much deeper, harder, more... more horrible...

        It'd be so easy, wouldn't
it? To take that dagger... to end it all by the water. Both
wrists, and then his throat... forever free. Silent. Quiet.
Peace.

        He closed his eyes, cringing
away from his own thoughts. What... cowardice. What horrible,
unacceptable
thoughts for him to have been having. But... he couldn't really deny
their worth, deep in his damaged heart. It was so tempting to say
fuck all to the world and live the life that he had been meant to live...

        Or had he? Maybe that
was... it. Maybe that's why his memories had come back to him...
because...

        He laid the dagger lightly
in the grass at his side, watching the blood as it slowed its stream from
his flesh. He didn't... want this. But more... he didn't
want anyone else to have to suffer. The thought of everyone he'd
met along his journey, ceasing to exist... That was worse, by far.

        And besides... he'd been...
informed
that he liked pain more than he cared to admit. How that sick thought
landed a bitter smile across his face, he'd never know. Or, rather...
he had some time to figure out. This wasn't over.

        I have never felt dirty after
writing game yaoi. Until now. Oh, Link... don't kill me.
Apparently I prove myself as your tormentor once again... but it's kind
of a happy ending! Really! Sort of... uh... yeah.

        Anyway, I'm really not sure
if this has another part. It seems a little "unfinished", but...
I'm not certain yet.
- 1
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Love, and Pain, and Darkness