A/N: I decided to portray ActaeonShipping in a slightly dark way than the usual light-hearted way, so I did a thing. I put the M-rating due to safety, since this story is more of a T-plus, but such a rating does not exist.

Warning! Yaoi, aka boyxboy. Hints of torture and sexual things (What the freak is wrong with me?). Everyone is humanized, or ginka-form, yet they can still use their powers (I know it doesn't make sense, but just go with it). Don't like? Don't read!

And I don't own Pokemon, but I do own this story.

The cell blocked out all sounds, with the exception of raindrops pouring on top the rocky prison. A lone prisoner is chained to the wall, back against the cold stone, legs spread among the floor. His breaths are slightly shallow, blood covering his green-and-red color schemed clothes, as well as his face and emerald colored hair. His skin was marred with scars, bruises, and scarlet scratches. If you looked closely, you would have come up with the assumption that he was crying. He jerked his head up as the iron-barred doors rolled up. A man entered the room, a black hood covering his face. He slowly approached the chained teen before removing his hood, revealing his features. Pitch black hair caressed his pale face, red irises placed behind glasses.

"So, are you going to tell me where your friends are now, Grovyle?" The red-eyed man asked, crossing his arms.

Grovyle bit his lip, not replying. For a while, both men remained silent, until the one imprisoned spoke up. "Dusknoir... What makes you think that I would tell you?"

The ebony head chuckled, walking closer to the trapped teen. "You value your live, right?"

"If I did, I wouldn't be risking it to prevent the world from being paralyzed, now would I?" Grovyle quipped, smirking, trying to keep his cool.
However, his calm exterior quickly disappeared as Dusknoir came down to eye level.

"You're not even going to reveal the slightest hint to their location?" Dusknoir asked, narrowing his red eyes.

Grovyle tried to scuttle back, far back into wall, wishing it would suck him into the rocky, concrete depths... As odd as that sounds... But when you're trapped with the fate of your friends in your palms, you would wish for anything to get you out of the situation to happen.

He swallowed the lump in his throat. "As I said before, I refuse to tell you anything."

Dusknoir tilted his head. "Oh. I suppose we have to continue to beat the answers out of you?"

The Time Gear snatcher snickered. "After the hell I've been through, I think I can take more of your beatings. And if you're planning on beating me to death, then you'll lose your only lead, since you already took care of Celebi and other suspicious character."

Dusknoir blinked. The shorter male made a valid point. Celebi was already taken and beaten to death along with a few others, when half of them wasn't involved with this situation.
Primal Dialga's underling then grinned, forming an idea. Getting answers physically was a negative, but what about...

"Ah. Well, I suppose you'll stay here then, while your friends scramble around, trying to find their next destination. Without you, they don't know where to go." He exclaimed, standing up, pacing around the cell. He heard the prisoner shift. "Which is even worse. You're trapped here for an eternity, and they're too scared to save you."

Grovyle remained silent.

"Sadly, you'll never be able to complete your goal. Such a shame." Dusknoir continued.

"They do know where to go." Grovyle pointed out. "I told them a plan in case something like this happens. However, they're laying low. Incognito. Until a certain time passes or I actually escape, they're hiding. And you'll never know when they'll head to the Hidden Land."

"Oh. You're quite the smart one... Well, your friends have no use for you any more." Dusknoir stated, causing the other to stiffen. "You told them everything they needed to know, and now... You're useless to them."

"...What are you implying?" Grovyle hissed.

"I'm not implying anything. I'm telling the truth." Dusknoir replied. "It's simple. Your friends can take care of themselves. I bet that they can take down my lord without you and with ease."
He stopped pacing around. "It's a fact, Grovyle. An obvious one. You're outlived your usefullness. They just needed enough information about the planet's paralysis, and... Well... They got it, thanks to you. They got Time Gears thanks to you. You've done everything you could for them. And now that you have, you don't really need to do anything for them anymore. You're most likely not in their thoughts. Not even a speck of you."

"...You h-have got to be kidding me. Like I would... F-Fall for that." Grovyle rasped.

The other cackled. "Are you having doubts? Is there a slight part of you that believes me?"

"H-Hell no!"

"You're stuttering."

"So?!"

"I must be right."

"No way...!" Grovyle snapped. "As if they would actually not care for me!"

"Are you actually starting to take in the truth?" Dusknoir asked, as if he never heard the other's earlier statement. He returned to his prisoner, crouching down, faces inches apart. The red eyed male tilted his head before lifting the green haired male's chin up, forcing him to look at the older. Grovyle gulped. Before he could even blink, a fist collided to his chest, knocking the wind out of him.

The younger let out a choked gasp, swearing that some blood escaped from his mouth. He panted, some tears falling out.

Dusknoir smirked. "Aw... Was I too rough?"

"Sh-Shut... Up..." Grovyle rasped. "Y-You fucking bastard."

Dusknoir chuckled. "It's sad that you have no friends to save you."

"I-I said shut up!" Grovyle cried. Again, a fist flew into his chest, causing him to let out another choked gasped.

"They'll fail anyway. I'll wait at the Hidden Land for them. And you'll be the one to blame. You didn't escape in time. You'll stay here, trapped. I'll get rid of them and then you." Dusknoir explained, brushing some green bangs away from the younger's golden eyes. "Of course, I have to do a double check... Just to make sure you don't attempt to escape while I'm away."

He laughed. "Oh, don't get the flicker of hope, boy. I'm not afraid of you escaping... I'm doing this as a... Precaution."

"...What do you mean?"

"Hm? Well, I don't want you have any hope... Any hope for escape, freedom... Hope to save this planet."

Dusknoir brushed a hand over Grovyle's cheek. "After all, this hope is the thing that helped you overcome obstacles. If I could destroy that hope, than... I can guarantee my victory and your loss."

"Y-You're crazy..." Grovyle hissed. "You're really risking the lives of many people... To s-save your own?! This whole world... I-It will crumble! Y-You're willing... T-To allow that to happen in order to live?! Why... W-Who would want to live in a dark hellish world devoid of life?!"

Dusknoir simply sighed. "If only you allowed this to happen... If only you decided not to mess around... Decided not to save the world... This situation that we're both in; it wouldn't be happening now."

The words were hitting home.
They were striking chords.
They were pushing buttons.
They were...
Making sense.

Grovyle lowered his head, shuddering.

Dusknoir chuckled. "Oh. I'm sorry. First I injured you, now I hurt your feelings."

No reply from the younger. The older lifted the latter's chin up once again, red eyes emotionless... Yet a faint gleam of... Happiness, maybe enjoyment, were somewhere located in the scarlet irises.

"And sadly, I fear that..." The gleam of enjoyment was turning into half enjoyment, half regret. "I may have to hurt you even more."

He trailed his other hand lower... Lower...

"W-What the hell are you doing?!" Grovyle squeaked.

The pale hand was in front of his crotch.

"Like I said... I have to hurt you more. Further." Dusknoir replied. "...Much to my dismay."
He removed the hand under the younger's chin to produce a Silver Thorn from his pocket. He gave it a quick twirl before lightly slashing the other cheek, causing a small stream of blood to flow.

The green haired male let out a yelp, jerking his head back, only for it to be forcefully grabbed and turned to face forward. Dusknoir blinked, looking at the sight in front of him. His enemy was trapped, imprisoned, injured, broken.

... Yet this was unsatisfying. He didn't know why. And it disgusted him. Disgusted him because he felt as if he didn't torture the younger enough. Disgusted him because he knew that this... Was sadistic.

He shook his head, trying to cut the thoughts from his head. He leaned forward, close to Grovyle's face, lapping the small river of blood that flowed from the cut on his cheek. Dusknoir heard the other whimper, and, as painful it was for him to admit it... The small sound of fear the younger emitted... It caused a spark of joy to appear in his chest. He chuckled at the thought as he continued to lap the blood, enjoying every whimper and yelp Grovyle made. Dusknoir pressed his palm into the younger's crotch, the latter's yelps becoming strain. The act continued for a few minutes before Dusknoir stopped. He lowered his lips to Grovyle's neck, and harshly bit the skin. The latter yelped, jerking back, pulling on the chains. Blood flowed out, rolling down from the neck and onto his clothes. Dusknoir licked the small wound, causing the younger to whimper even more.

The ebony haired male pulled away. He stared once more at the sight in front of him.

Green hair messy, golden eyes screwed shut with some tears pouring out, clothes dirty and ripped, scars covering his body. Why was this picture affecting him positvely and negatively? He frowned at these thoughts, his mood turning slightly bitter. It became even worse when he saw that his lithe prisoner wasn't facing him. Why did this anger Dusknoir? He'll never know. But he did know that it was aggravating, and he spoke without thinking a second thought.

"Look at me." He hissed, eyes flaring with anger. No reply. "I said... Look at me!"

Starting to fear consequences, Grovyle slowly opened his eyes, golden irises glossy. He stared at the foe who sat in front of him. For a while, neither said a word. They simply stared at each other; one confused, the other frightened.

"I have only one thing left to say to you, Grovyle." Dusknoir stated, voice turning calm and stern. "...I'm sorry."

The green haired male wondered why the red-eyed one would say that.

Then their lips connected. Grovyle stiffened. He squirmed, trying to break from the kiss, but Dusknoir kept a firm grasp on his chin. A tongue slithered in his mouth, causing him to let out a squeak. Grovyle felt his body go numb, faint, weak. And the hand pressing up against his crotch was not helping. He was shivering, wondering why he got into this situation. He started to wonder when it would end. He hoped end would appear.

However, the hope disappeared as a hand slid beneath his pants.

And it made sense. This is why Dusknoir said I'm sorry.

Grovyle didn't know what to think now. He simply shoved his hope in a corner as those words echoed in his mind.

I'm sorry... I'm sorry...

Sorry...

Grovyle closed his eyes. It's... okay... Dusknoir.

The older pulled away and went to assault the younger's neck. Teeth rubbed against skin, some blood streamed out, staining the clothes even further.

Dusknoir felt hesitant. However... Orders were orders.

It was too late.
Too late to stop, to change his mind.

As he continued with his actions, the whimpers emitting from the younger grew into yelps and moans.

Grovyle pulled on his restraints, gasping, tears streaming out of his eyes. The two words Dusknoir said were back. They came back to his mind, echoing.

I'm sorry.

Grovyle slowly opened his eyes, blinking back tears. It's okay...

As Dusknoir continued, he began to feel like... Something was wrong. He wanted to stop, but he couldn't.

He didn't fear his death from disappearing.
He feared death from Primal Dialga.

He didn't any of them.
But he didn't want to do... this just to avoid his death.

As this scenario continued for what appeared to be an eternity, Dusknoir trailed his other hand beneath Grovyle's shirt, feeling the bruised skin.

Dusknoir suddenly stopped. He pulled away, once again looking at the younger. He started to wonder how he managed to break the strong-willed teen. Sighing, he returned to his actions.

Grovyle shivered, crying, squirming.

Time seemed to drag on, even though right now, they're in the future, where time was at a standstill.

The touches turned rough, merciless.

"If I had the courage to stop this, I would." Dusknoir suddenly said as the male beneath him gasped and cried. "But I'm afraid that... I can't. And I'm sorry for doing this to you."

Grovyle jerked forward as he felt a finger brush over his nipple.

"I'm sorry that I have to stoop to such a level." Dusknoir continued. "And yet at the same time, I'm not... I hope this makes sense to you. If not, I'm going to try to make it easy to understand."

He leaned forward, noticing that those yellow eyes were closed. "But, I want you to look. At. Me. While I'm saying it."

The younger whimpered, slowly opening his eyes, panting. He looked up, into the other's scarlet eyes.

"I don't care for what I am about to do with you." Dusknoir explained. "But at the same time... Somewhere, deep down, I will regret it for the rest of my life."

He leaned closer. "To put it simply... I'm not sure whether I'll be sorry... Or not."

He was about to press his lips against the younger's when...

"...It's... Ok-Okay..."

Dusknoir nearly froze, but... Nevertheless, he continued, lightly pressing his lips against Grovyle's.

Dusknoir exhaled as he approached the cell, a Silver Thorn in his hand, key in the other. He already took care of the rescue team. Now all that remained was Grovyle. The iron bars rolled up, and he stepped in side, freezing at the sight of the broken prisoner in front of him.

Blood, scars, dirt, and a sticky substance covered his lower regions. Most of his clothes were tattered, with the exception of his pants which laid next to him. Sighing, Dusknoir approached the teen, sitting in front of him.

"I'm afraid your friends have failed to stop me." He stated, only to receive no reply. "...You do know what's about to happen to you, right?"

Surprisingly, Grovyle laughed. "Yes... I'm aware of my fate..."
His voice sounded weak. "Well... Go ahead."

Dusknoir tilted his head. "You sure want things to end fast..."

"I don't care..." Grovyle rasped.

Dusknoir leaned his forehead against Grovyle's. "Of course, I could just leave you to rot here, but that's a bit too much."

"Ha. You're right. I would prefer things to end now. Rather than slowly wait for things to end." Grovyle explained. He felt his body grow weaker the more he spoke. "So... P-Please."
The word came out in a scared, sad tone. "J-Just... End me."
Some tears escape his eyes.

For a while, Dusknoir did nothing. "Well..."
He, too, had tears escaping his eyes. "If that is what you want... Then alright. I'd be happy to grant you that wish."

With that, he crashed his lips against the other's. The ebony-head wrapped an arm around the younger's neck, pulling him closer, more tears falling.

He pulled away, then sunk the Silver Thorn into Grovyle's chest.

"I'm sorry."

A/N: I actually did it. I actually portrayed my OTP in a non-happy way.
Fun little thing. I wrote (um, typed?) this while listening to Bruises and Bitemarks by Good with Grenades.