Þórsdagr: Dark!fic
May. 26th, 2011 12:21 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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comment_ficGood day, everyone! This is ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ravenspear , back for my last day of guest hosting!
On this lovely, sunny (at least where I am) Thursday, we're going to be focusing on my very favorite type of fic: Dark!fic. Today, we're going to make our characters do and/or be subject to all manner of awful, twisted, bad, wrong, sick things. Bring on the moral reprehensibility!
As always, please abide by the rules:
And please format your prompts in the fashion that is pleasing to our beloved simian overlords.
Example:
So have a great prompting and ficcing day, and if you don't find anything in this post to tickle your fancy, there's always the Delicious archives to go through. ♥
(tag=theme!Dark)
ravenspear , back for my last day of guest hosting!On this lovely, sunny (at least where I am) Thursday, we're going to be focusing on my very favorite type of fic: Dark!fic. Today, we're going to make our characters do and/or be subject to all manner of awful, twisted, bad, wrong, sick things. Bring on the moral reprehensibility!
As always, please abide by the rules:
♠ Post no more than five prompts in a row, and don't post more than three prompts for a single fandom. If someone fills a prompt of yours, you can then prompt again.
♠ There's to be no spoilers in prompts until a week from air/publication dates.
♠ If your fill contains spoilers, then please label it clearly and leave enough spaces for people to scroll on by.
♠ Since today's theme is likely to result in lots of awfulness, please be sure to label your fics if they contain things that might be triggery.
And please format your prompts in the fashion that is pleasing to our beloved simian overlords.
Example:
Supernatural; Castiel/Crowley; I want to keep you alive, so there's always the possibility of murder, later.
Leverage/Supernatural; Hardison /or& any; Alec was one of Azazel's special kids, and sometimes... sometimes it shows.
So have a great prompting and ficcing day, and if you don't find anything in this post to tickle your fancy, there's always the Delicious archives to go through. ♥
(tag=theme!Dark)
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no subject
Date: 2011-05-26 10:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-26 10:23 am (UTC)beckoning a rage within - slightly AUish for SN, gen
Date: 2011-05-26 06:12 pm (UTC)Azazel is dead. Alec never had to fight things out in Cold Oak. He’s from the last generation, and he’s the only one left.
He doesn’t think about it anymore. Azazel is dead and Lucifer defeated and the world continues on. He sweet talks his baby and impossible things happen, and his team doesn’t realize how lucky they are.
(There’s a reason the marks never come after them. Nate shows off, reveals himself and the team, time after time after time. And nobody ever chases after them for revenge. They think it must be Eliot’s reputation, if they ever think about it at all.
Alec would have won in Cold Oak, if Azazel hadn’t died.)
Re: beckoning a rage within - slightly AUish for SN, gen
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From:Re: beckoning a rage within - slightly AUish for SN, gen
From:no subject
Date: 2011-05-27 12:14 am (UTC)Castiel/Balthazar, spoilers up to and including 6.22, contains violence, bondage, blood, explicit sex, non-consensual sex, forced orgasm.
no subject
Date: 2011-05-26 10:41 am (UTC)Fill! Supernatural/Mirror!Angel Sanctuary fusion 1/2
Date: 2011-05-28 12:03 pm (UTC)Castiel is sure that right now, this is the worst situation he's ever been in. They're here hunting the monster they call Mother with the Winchesters, and here he is, deprived of his powers, while they are all caught, and now rendered weapon less. No normal monster should have this much power over an angel, even if they are indeed older. It's more than just a little disconcerting.
But there is something else. A gut feeling, humans would call it, making him uneasy.
It's not the fact that she's talking about killing Crowley who is – and as much as he hates to admit it – a partner he needs if he is to win the war in Heaven. Not the fact that she takes on Mary Winchester's form to make her argument stronger to the boys. It's not the fact that she is downright insane, and even if she seems perfectly rational, it's somehow obvious, and just there. It's the way she keeps glancing at him, ever so often while talking to Dean and Sam. Not because she suspects he in league with Crowley. That can't be it, because Castiel and Crowley have covered their tracks perhaps five times over, and then some. They've not just been careful, they've been paranoid.
No, Eve keeps looking at Castiel as if she knows him, not by name, but intimately. And more importantly, she's looking at him as if he should know her. He can't explain why, but that sense of discomfort and uncertainty is strong, and Castiel wonders if maybe he does know her.
She stops mid-word of her rant about Crowley killing her children, and keeping up the food chain, as if realisation has flooded her, like a switch was flipped in her mind, and walks up to him, aborting Mary Winchester's form with a laugh.
“Just kidding,” she says. “Crowley killing my children isn't why I led you all here. I wanted you here instead. And this was the only way I knew how to get you here.”
Suddenly she is no longer Mother, she is someone completely different. Someone who is beautiful, cruel, and does not care for anything else but a goal. Her eyes have abandoned their calm gaze, and now they look openly crazed. Castiel can feel fear flood through him, almost crippling. It's the sort of fear he'd experienced just before Lucifer blew him apart.
Her hands come up, cupping his face, a thumb rubbing circles into his cheek. There is power radiating from her, strange and ancient, and yet entirely too familiar. He leans away instinctively, everything in him telling him to avoid her touch no matter how comforting it is; but she holds her grip tightly, enough to bruise him. Grace, Castiel realises during his struggle. Her power is grace, and she is an angel too. A powerful one.
“You've grown so much, haven't you, little Grigori?” she whispers softly, thumb still rubbing circles into his cheek. The touch is intimate, but he can feel the grace in it, contrasting with his own repelling it, and at the same time part of it surging up to meet hers. The sensation is disorienting. “A higher ranking than a Cherubim. If he were here, he'd be proud.” Through all the confusion, something in him, long buried and forgotten surges in happiness at the words.
“Yes he would be so proud. You are a beautiful thing.” She coos. Then: “Where is he dear?” Her fingers are running through his hair now, combing through it, smoothing it out, tucking errant strands behinds his ears, as he looks up into her eyes. A parent's touch. It is all to familiar to him, but there is something so profoundly wrong about it. Like it's a twisted shadow, of the real thing. Castiel wants to keen, and lean into it, despite the bile rising in his throat, because it has been oh so long; and at the same time he wants to put as much distance between this angel and him.
When did he even fall to his knees?
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From:no subject
Date: 2011-05-26 10:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-26 10:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-26 10:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-26 11:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-26 11:08 am (UTC)Caged Inside, R, Lucifer/Gabriel, warnings: blood, captive!Gabriel, Fallen!Gabriel
Date: 2011-05-29 09:22 am (UTC)Gabriel shifts and whimpers as the manacles around his wrists chafe the skin raw. The blood drips to the floor slowly from various cuts and scrapes that Lucifer has sliced into his skin idly, not caring enough to heal him after.
Gabriel can't heal himself as Lucifer has drained his Grace away, keeping it in a vial around his neck. He's become a prisoner of his own brother and nothing he can do will save him now.
He has no choice but to hope Castiel and the Winchesters win this war, but he won't hold his breath. If he couldn't stop his brother, they don't stand a chance.
no subject
Date: 2011-05-26 11:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-26 11:12 am (UTC)fill
Date: 2012-02-29 06:46 pm (UTC)Gabriel is pretty sure that it’s all his fault, not that he will ever admit it, but in the off chance that daddy dearest will ever make a comeback he is fully prepared to include that into his “what did you miss/to confess” list, somewhere after “So how do you like being granddad to eight legged flying horse?”, but before “Tunguska? What about it?” Also how he was supposed to know that kinky sex with recovering blood-junkie could lead to this? Furthermore, he got the noblest of intentions in his borrowed heart at the time. Stir little Sammy Winchester clear from demon whores, fuck up Heaven and Hell plans to kick start Armageddon. And because no one would be saying “thank you, Gabriel” he decided to thank himself with said kinky sex. Not that kinky part was obligatory, he likes vanilla just as much as any other fallen angel. Kinky was totally on little Sammy Winchester, not that he was all that little or Gabriel had any objection, but they at least should share a blame, all thing considered.
Besides Lucy was totally the one to blame in the whole mess, because if that little bastard didn’t stalk Sammy, waiting for the perfect moment to jump poor boy’s bones… He practically asked for it, didn’t he?
Dean too. Gabriel frowns. Well, maybe not Dean, not this time. Thinking about it, nope, totally Dean’s fault. He agreed with Gabriel’s live reenactment of Lord of the Rings, didn’t he?
Anyway, water under the bridge and all that. Also looking at the bright side: Gabriel was pretty sure it stopped the whole Apocalypse nonsense quite nicely. Maaaybe. Gabriel coughs pointedly.
- Awkward, - he says into uncomfortable silence that descended at the room and pretends to ignore a murderous glance that Lucifer threw his way.
- Hey! That not my fault! Innocent observer me!
Lucifer frown deepens.
- That wasn’t supposed to happen, - devil said carefully, wound feeling just leaking from every word. Yes, Lucy was totally a wet blanket in the family.
- No shit, Sherlock.
- What exactly…
- Shush, Dean! – Gabriel orders bristly, backing up his point with old slam them into nearest wall, tape over the mouth trick. - Grownups are talking. Sam, come here and for dad’s sake don’t touch anything! And while you are at it don’t breath and don’t think. Kapishe?
- Gabriel, what..?
- Relax, you will be fine.
- I don’t feel fine, - he growls and ground shakes, just a bit.
Kids these days – growing up so quickly.
- Yeeeah, I was exaggerating. But chances of you beating the dust are slimmer than usual. And what are you looking at, Lucy?
- He is beautiful.
- Of course he is, he is covered in pieces of chewed Grace, his left top wings are a bloody mess and he got your feathers. Huh.
- Gabriel! What happened? I said yes, and then there was this light and…
Archangel looks wildly around: Dean Winchester still fixed to the wall, Sam confused and working himself up to smiting the shit out of something and devil on the verge of revelation.
- Eh, Lucy? Typical, no help as usual? – complains Gabriel, but really he doesn’t blame his big brother much, because when he first became a father. And by father he meant mother of eight leg horse, there might have been fainting or two. So stunned silence wasn’t so bad. - Well basically, and really I’m flying here by the seat of my pants, buuuut it looks like you either nephelim now or archangel. Or both.
- Gabriel!
- On the bright side our illicit affair is no longer blasphemous interspecies flick, but just a good old incest. Don’t you feel better? I do.
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Date: 2011-05-26 11:13 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-26 11:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-26 11:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-26 11:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-26 11:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-26 11:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-26 11:26 am (UTC)Bloodlust
Date: 2011-05-26 05:18 pm (UTC)Unfortunately, David had changed in the months he had spent with Radim and Koyla.
The door slid open and David entered the room. Evan tried not to shake in fear as he noticed the knives on David's belt. David smiled, his grin razor sharp as he touched Evan's chest, licking at the almost dried blood on his chin. "You're so beautiful when you bleed."
no subject
Date: 2011-05-26 11:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-28 01:43 pm (UTC)They'd been chased for six blocks, they'd interrupted a small riot of indeterminate construction and purpose. They didn't even have a chance to identify themselves before they were being chased into a particularly seedy part of town.
It took nearly six blocks until they gained enough of a lead to be out of sight and the moment they were Mac spun them into an alley.
“They'll still see us Mac, we've got to run!” Flack hissed.
“Then we'll blend in.” Mac pushed off his jacket and tugged Flack's tie off his neck. Then he opened his trousers and reached for Flack's. Flack grabbed Mac's hands.
“What the hell are you doing?” Flack looked worried and a bit freaked out.
Mac nodded down to the other end of the alley where two men were pressed against each other, hands in each other's clothes.
“Blending in.”
Flack gasped in a breath and undid his own pants. He pressed his hands back against the brick wall as Mac slipped his hands inside his loosened pants.
Mac was close, breath on his neck, hands on his dick and it was only a matter of time before he was hard.
He didn't notice the crowd go past, Mac had pressed up against him until their dicks slid against each other and his hands had moved from the rough brickwork to Mac's shoulders.
The last stragglers of the mob were still wandering past, winded and lazier, when Flack came, flinched and pushed Mac off him.
But no one noticed, it was normal in those alleys.
(no subject)
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From:no subject
Date: 2011-05-26 11:29 am (UTC)Sanctuary, Nikola Tesla/Helen Magnus/Afina, their own personal canteen in the new world (Awakening AU-is tag)
no subject
Date: 2011-05-26 12:15 pm (UTC)There is Blood in Heaven (R for the gore)
Date: 2011-05-27 05:19 am (UTC)They had tried to bar the Gates of Heaven to him, preventing his entry into the one place of true refuge for the angelic Host in a universe empty of God.
They were not prepared for what came to them. Castiel had abandoned his former vessel and instead went for the stronger of the line – Claire Novak.
Those who had been spared knelt before the child’s form. They reached out and touched the blood wet flesh of her arms and professed their love and devotion to him. They bowed their heads and kissed tiny, delicate feet covered in blood and guts and ticker things. They lifted their faces to look upon the visage of a tiny human girl who shone with the power and glory of a hundred million tainted souls.
It was Muriel who said what they all thought, who spoke the words none dared to say, who felt the revolution and disgust of a mother and keeper of a people to see a child so decorated in the gore of a thousand pointless deaths. “Blasphemer,” Muriel named him.
Castiel leaned forward, as though to kiss Muriel’s brow as he had done with the others who had offered their oath before him. Only the slim fingers of a child’s fist knotted in Muriel’s hair and pulled his head back to bare his throat to Castiel’s blade.
And when they were close enough to kiss with a sharply drawn breath, Castiel spoke, “Our Father has abandoned us. I will not suffer disobedience and rebellion as He once did.” A clump of blood matted hair slipped over Castiel’s thin shoulder and landed sickly against Muriel’s face. “Those who do not submit will be destroyed.”
Re: There is Blood in Heaven (R for the gore)
From:no subject
Date: 2011-05-26 12:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-26 12:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-26 12:18 pm (UTC)Warning for gore & violence
Date: 2011-05-27 04:19 am (UTC)Skin ripping, tearing, blades and teeth and nails slicing through flesh
"Simon, where are you?"
Blood on your fingers, on your face, hot, choking on the stench and you can't breathe
"Simon!"
You're a doctor, you want to fix them but you can't, their lives slipping through your hands like the blood falling to the floor
"Simon, can you hear me?"
Screams, pleas, falling across your eardrums again and again until it's like rain, a soothing rhythm that makes you want to tear your own ears off
"Look at me!"
Can't look away, can't close your eyes because it's beautiful, what savagery the human race is capable of, like animals but worse
"Simon, please."
They take the people one by one, one by one, one by one, but they never take you and please just let it end . . .
Re: Warning for gore & violence
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