pinch-hit: dark

[tigriswolf]

Today's theme is dark , however you interpret it. Serial killer AU? Fine. Someone sitting in a room with the lights off? So be it.


Y'all know the rules:


*No more than five prompts in a row.
*No more than three prompts in the same fandom.
*No spoilers in prompts.

If your fill contains spoilers, warn and leave plenty of space.

Have fun!

Comments

[tigriswolf]

Author’s choice, author’s choice, we are the granddaughters of the witches you were never able to burn

Fill: Suffragette (Drabble)

[thesmallhobbit.livejournal.com]

You may wait for us in dark alleys to beat us for speaking up; you may seek to throw us in rivers to drown our words; you may force us to eat when we choose to starve to death for our beliefs; you may cheer your politicians who speak against us; but our voices will be heard. Like you we are people and we demand the vote. You tried to burn our grandmothers and you wish to incarcerate us but they survived and so we will. And our granddaughters will continue to defend their rights and speak out against injustice.

[tigriswolf]

Avengers movieverse, Steve/Bucky, serial killer AU – Bucky kills them; pre-serum!Steve only chooses bad men to be the victims and watches Bucky go to work

fill

[likewinning.livejournal.com]

we were made through one another

The first time, it's an accident. Bucky finds Steve getting beat up in some alley, and instead of sending the other guy running off, Bucky hits him.

He keeps hitting him.

The blood pounds in his ears, and he doesn't hear Steve telling him to stop, that he's fine, that they should go.

He doesn't hear anything, not the crack of his knuckles against the other man's skull, not the shouts turned to whimpers, nothing at all until there's the soft thud of a lifeless body hitting the ground.

Then there's blood on his hands, and on Steve's, too, when he reaches out for Bucky.

After the first time, they huddle up in their apartment, clean each other off, get into bed and shiver their way through the night.

But the truth is.

The truth is, after the first time, late that night with the moon just peeking through the blinds and the smell of blood still in their nostrils, Steve whispers, "What if we did it again?"

And Bucky's been thinking the same thing, thinking how good it felt not to show mercy to someone who didn't deserve it.

No one who would hurt Steve deserves any less than Bucky gave.

*

Steve finds the next one, a local crook who just missed a heavy jail sentence on a technicality. There's no shortage of bad men in Brooklyn, even with half the men in the country off to war. They follow the man to a bar and wait in the alley outside for him, Steve out in the open, Bucky in the shadows.

The man sees Steve first, thinks nothing of it, but before he knows it there's a knife buried in his back and he is slipping quietly, so quietly, to the ground while Steve watches.

Bucky lets the man drop, wipes the blood from the knife on the man's clothes, and then approaches Steve. Steve is breathing hard, staring at Bucky open-mouthed, wide-eyed, but something entirely other than terrified.

In front of Steve now, he leans down until their foreheads touch, but keeps his bloody hands at his sides. "Better?" Bucky asks.

But Steve grabs his hands, brings them up to his face and holds them there, his hands over Bucky's. They breathe into each other, hearts beating out of control, mouths inches away from each other's.

"Better," Steve agrees, and he kisses Bucky right there in the alley where he's been beat up a hundred times, kisses him slow and easy because they're not the ones dying tonight.

[tigriswolf]

Teen Wolf (TV), author’s choice, there were many ways Derek Hale could’ve gone after the fire. In this one, he decided to become the monster Kate Argent and her kind thought he already was just for existing.

[scribblemyname]

MCU or X-Men, any, she/he can wade into a war without batting an eye, but she has an irrational fear of the dark

X-Men, Logan, mini-fill

[daria234.livejournal.com]

Blood and guts don't faze him.

Even loss, he can survive.

Fire and steel, needles and torture: there is nothing so dark, so gruesome, that it can make him flinch.

The Professor tells him that he can't remember because his mind refuses to. His own brain is terrified of the truth of who he is.

He wonders what an atrocity he must be, what a dark red stain of soullessness, that he cannot bear to look.

[tigriswolf]

Bones, Sweets, he learned that people can be saved because of the people who adopted him when they didn’t have to – in a world where he wasn’t adopted, he never learned that

Fic: Witness

[leni-ba.livejournal.com]

Lance watches the guy pace, long, loud strides across the room, and a barely noticeable pause by the mirror that Lance isn't so stupid as to believe it's just a mirror. He's watched the movies, you know. He's not that big, for a FBI agent. Lance has been in rooms like these, facing questions like these with bigger and meaner long before he was old enough for the threat of prison.

He kind of misses juvie, when he cares to remember his teenage years. Always a step up from the foster system, at least for those like him.

"You need to give us something, Sweets," the man says, coming back to the table to stand right beside him. Looming.

Even if he were standing up to the agent, Lance knows he would still be dwarfed by the other man. It's okay. The bigger they are...

He cranes his head up and meets the guy's eye. Then, making sure his complete disinterest shows on his face, Lance shrugs.

The FBI guy growls half a curse before a feminine eyebrow lifts and he goes to stalk away again. It's obvious he's holding onto the last of his patience on a thread, and just as obvious who is holding the other end of it.

Lance's eyes move to the woman sitting before him at the table. They place this interrogation well, these two. He has met them two hours ago, but he can already tell of the years they have worked together, the body language between them that probably needs translation to the rest of the world. He bets he'd need more than ten minutes with each of them to set them against each other. Perhaps he actually wouldn't be able to do it if they were both in the same room - and that's a compliment he hasn't paid to many couples.

At least that means that they are not stupid. He hates dealing with stupid people.

"Mr. Sweets," the woman says. "What Agent Booth means, is that while we are positive that you are not a murderer, we lack the evidence to support our claim. Evidence that we believe is in your power."

"Yeah, that," Agent Booth scowls. "So start talking so we can go back to bust our asses looking into who killed your friends."

"They weren't my friends," Lance says automatically.

"Whatever," and the man sounds exasperated now. "Those two people who happened to live in the same building as you - and one a couple blocks away - who were so strangely fond of you that their cell phones pointed us straight in your direction. And who, by the way, were last seen leaving your apartment."

"We weren't friends," Lance maintains.

The woman grabs the agent's sleeve before he can launch into another tirade. "I believe," she starts, and sounds uncertain for the first time, "that he means that, while he knew and interacted with the Trumans and Mr. Iacovelli, he didn't feel close to them." She peers at him and, when he doesn't deny it, goes ahead. "So they were simple acquaintances."

"That's what I said, Bones," Agent Booth sighs.

The woman - Bones? - shakes her head. "Some people learn to be very precise in their vocabulary, Booth. This would be especially true in Mr. Sweets, whose experiences have taught him by necessity to differentiate the degrees to which he's willing to admit someone else into his confidence. Just because he's been out of the foster system for several years does not mean he's broken off the habit."

Lance expects the other man to glare at his partner in disbelief. Jumping to the defense of the person they are interrogating is not part of the script - and yes, Lance's been subjected to enough to know all variables. But instead Agent Booth's expression softens for a second before he rubs his forehead with both hands and then makes a small circle around his temples.

"All right," the agent says. "So he's broken and doesn't like to make friends. Where does that get us?"

Lance would be offended if he hadn't reached the same conclusion.

Also, it's hard to be offended when he's been left behind in the conversation.

"Well," 'Bones' says, "we still have the neighbor's testimony that the three of them visited Mr. Sweets with regularity."

[tigriswolf]

Teen Wolf (TV), Stiles, There’s a place he can go, deep inside, where nothing hurts. When he’s there, he’s cold, and he’s ruthless, and nothing gets in his way, not thoughts of wrong, or right, or, what would Scott say? what would Dad do? In that place, he can do anything. In that place, he can execute his revenge without hesitation and without remorse.

[scribblemyname]

Roswell, Liz, what if she didn't care about keeping the world safe? what if she only cared about Max?

[scribblemyname]

MCU, Clint/Natasha, Clint defected instead of Natasha

1/2, AU very pre-canon; spoilers for all the way to Winter Soldier

[tigriswolf]

(I’m sorry if you just wanted Natasha&Clint. I just had to see what would happen without them there, so it goes all the way to Avengers. Also, Winter Soldier pops up. *hands* Also also, no overt pairings, sorry. Also cubed, it’s not all that dark? I am so sorry.)

…

"We have a place for you," the American says. His hands are empty at his sides, fingers spread to simulate his helplessness. Of course he is not helpless -- he has hunted her across five nations, through three separate battlegrounds, and not lost her scent even once. It is very impressive.

She should be dead; this American is a perfect marksmen and even she must know from where the shot is coming before she can duck.

Were he not American, and not so young, she might think her own teacher taught him, but no. By his stance, he has learned from some American agency, what he didn't teach himself.

"Your masters wish me dead," she says.

"Yeah, okay, that's true," he laughs. "But I think you deserve a second chance." He shrugs.

She wants to smile at his naivety. Oh, this American is so very young. “I escaped my masters once,” she says, “and I burned them behind me. I’ll not be imprisoned again.”

He doesn’t tense, just keeps watching her. She tilts her head, watching him right back. “Were you caught?” she asks, keeping the smile off her face. “Were you given this same choice?”

He winces before wiping the expression away, but he is not as good as her. (None are.) (… well, one. But he was a long time ago, and is most likely dead, now.) (Maybe…)

“You were,” she says gently. “Hunted down and told to come in or die…” He flicks his glance away; his hands close into fists. “And now you see to cage me as you have been caged? I think not.” She silently walks to him, carefully sets her hands on his shoulders.

If were fast enough, he could kill her. She can most definitely kill him. She doesn’t want to; he is a fascinating boy.

“Will you keep hunting me if I let you live?” she whispers, gently turning his face so that she catches his gaze. “You have to return with my head or me beside you, yes? What is the price of failure?”

“They’re the good guys,” he says, but he does not believe the words.

“My masters said that, too,” she tells him. “Would you like to hear a third choice?”

He laughs, the sound both bitter and desperate. “Sure,” he says. “Why the fuck not.”

She smiles at him now, a smile she has not worn since last she saw Winter, and she offers, “Come with me instead.”

He stares at her, completely gobsmacked, and her smile widens. “No masters but ourselves; no rules but our own. I’ll give you until dawn to decide, and then I’ll be gone.” She lifts her hand to gently pat his cheek and backs up a step. He just keeps staring at her so she turns and exits through the window.

He does not shoot her.

.

In the morning, the American joins her for breakfast. “I’m Clint,” he says as he sits down. “Hawkeye.”

She does not smile at him. Instead, she says, “And I am Natasha.” They do not shake hands.

[scribblemyname]

any, any, it's the end of the world and the stars go out

[scribblemyname]

any, any, "This may come as a bit of a shock, but lights out means you're supposed to go to sleep."

Fill, MCU, Steve/Darcy

[helsinkibaby.livejournal.com]

An arm snaking across his waist in the darkness was not a shock - Darcy was one of the most tactile people Steve knew, the fact that she liked to press her body against his was not exactly a surprise. 

When her hand began to move lower, slowly and with unmistakable intent, on the other hand? That was a surprise. 

"Darcy?"

"Mmm-hmm?" He could hear the smile in her voice and the movement of her hand had him sucking in a sharp breath. 

"This may come as a bit of a shock, but lights out means you're supposed to go to sleep." 

"Nuh-uh." The bed shifted as she raised herself up on one elbow and her long hair brushed along his shoulder as she shook her head. "I'm not sleepy." 

"You wouldn't rather read a book?" But he was only teasing her and from the way his hand moved down her back, she would know that. 

She proved he was right about that by pushing him down onto his back, moving so that she was straddling him, all in one smooth motion. "Depends on the book," she snickers. "Did they have the Kama Sutra in the 1940s?" 

As a matter of fact, he's never heard about it, but from the shift of her hips, he decides it's something he needs to learn about as soon as possible. 

[likewinning.livejournal.com]

Hannibal (TV), Alana Bloom(/Hannibal or gen), Alana knows exactly what Hannibal has been up to all this time

[likewinning.livejournal.com]

MCU, Bucky(+/any or gen), Do I divide and fall apart? Cuz my bright is too slight to hold back all my dark

[ammcj062.livejournal.com]

Highlander, Methos, thieving through the night

[likewinning.livejournal.com]

BtvS, Buffy, the Master didn't just kill Buffy: he turned her

[swirlsofblue.livejournal.com]

Sherlock: Dark Mycroft: He's the most dangerous man you'll ever meet and he runs the government.

[swirlsofblue.livejournal.com]

Avengers/Thor verse: Loki succeeds in taking over the earth

[falkner]

Batman (comics), Batfam (any), serial killer AU

Batgirl, Robin (might not be exactly what you wanted)

[daria234.livejournal.com]

"That make you feel better?" Tim said wryly as Barbara sneaked back into the Batcave. He was always sad when she came back this late, when he knew that she was cleaning up the city her own way on the side. Not sad enough to to tell on her, though.

"I don't do it to feel better," she said, then grabbed her gear to get in some more practice.

"You're just lucky he hasn't found out yet," he warned her. Probably hoping she'd be scared enough to stop.

She avoided his eyes. She knew she was good, but the old man was still better, at least so far. So she was pretty damn sure that Bruce knew and decided to look the other way. As long as she didn't start going after innocents, he would probably just keep an eye on it. She wondered if maybe she were just doing something that Bruce longed to do.

But there was no reason to let Tim know that particular fact about Bruce. No reason to destroy the kid.

"Yeah, if you were a little stealthier, you'd be able to sneak out too," she said, just a hint of smile in the challenge.

"Please. I'm the master of stealth," he said, and dropped the subject. He knew he wasn't winning this argument tonight, any more than he had any other time.

"So you want to spar a little?" she said, tossing him some wraps for his hands.

"Sure."

[falkner]

Law & Order (any), any detective, they decide to take matters into their own hands once the legal system fails

[samueljames]

Dexter, Dexter & Deb, she knew from the start what he was doing and became his partner. She'll never divert a case their way but she always finds people in need of their particular brand of justice. (No spoilers for last season please as I'm behind).

[leni-ba.livejournal.com]

It started with Richie Baxton.

Deb still remembers the grin on the bastard's face, the earnest way he pleaded his case to the students' council and the headmaster, swearing that of course he'd always liked Misty and he even thought he loved her and it was all one big misunderstanding. He even spouted all that trash to Misty's parents and they, all too eager to bury the deed and the shame, swore they believed him and that Misty had always been a hysterical child.

Misty hung herself.

(Misty was Deb's best friend's older sister.)

---

Deb investigated. She found out about Harriet Jones, Barbara Darren, and Gwen Sanders. She found out about Tina Jay, Frannie Campos, and that girl whose name nobody remembered because she'd just up and left town and refused to contact any of her old friends.

When she had her evidence, she contemplated telling their father. Going to the police station. To the news, even.

Then she remembered Richie's friendly grin, the way he'd talked himself out of each of these situations, and made her choice.

---

The day Richie died, Deb watched from a corner of the room.

---

The day they discovered Richie's body, Deb held her best friend's hair back as she vomited in the bathroom and swore she'd never meant for something like that too happen. "No human being deserves that," she'd gasped tearfully.

Deb kept her silence and promised herself to hang out with people who actually understood what humanity meant.

---

It's almost twenty years later, and Deb hangs out with Dexter most of the time.

"What's up, sis?" he asks as she comes into his apartment and heads straight for the couch.

She groans. "Long day at work."

"Bad guy still at large?"

"Why does every bad guy make it so hard to catch him?"

He hands her a cold beer. "You say the same about the good ones," he teases.

She puts a finger into her mouth and flicks a few drops into her face, laughing when he grimaces. He goes in search of a towel - and probably some disinfectant, he's a bit of a freak that way - and she takes the moment to sink into the couch and relax.

When he comes back, he knows to exchange her empty can for a new one. "You'll catch him," he says, trust and pride clear in his voice.

It's so great to have a big brother that believes in her.

They sit in silence for a while. Deb, letting the stress of the last few weeks of chasing and missing her quarry melt away at least for a half hour; Dexter, giving her the space she needs.

Yep. Big brothers are the best.

And talking about that...

"Hey, Dex. I could use some help. You know, with a new package." When he arches an eyebrow, she explains. "Not about the case. Gods, no. It's this woman - Martha. Martha Perry." She fishes out the copy of the file from her back pocket. The black and white pictures don't make justice to the bruises the woman had sported when she arrived at the station. "It's bad, Dexter. I can feel it."

He takes the paper. "I'll look into it," he promises.

Deb nods.

"If it pans out," Dexter says next, "wanna come with me?"

She must be the only little sister in the States who's invited to tag along after her big brother. She grins happily. "Count me in."

[evil-little-dog.livejournal.com]

Fullmetal Alchemist, Kimblee, Despite his white attire, he likes the shadows

[evil-little-dog.livejournal.com]

Fullmetal Alchemist, Edward/Winry, They both have nightmares

[evil-little-dog.livejournal.com]

Any, Any, 'All kittens are grey in the dark'

No fic... *innocent face*

[classics-lover.livejournal.com]

[jaune-chat.livejournal.com]

Author's choice, any(/ or + any), the lights are out. No, seriously, lights are out. No lights. Lights are not coming back on for hours. No flashlights, nothing. Maybe it's magic, who knows? You guys have several hours in the dark to kill. Deal with it.

Fill - Kingdom of the Blind 1/2 (Original)

[icarus-chained.livejournal.com]

Um. Not quite the prompt, but it's what sparked for me? A quick military horror story, if it's any good to you?

Kingdom of the Blind

Lieutenant: "Doesn't make sense. It doesn't make sense."

Corporal: "Sir?"

Lieutenant: "... Do me a favour. Try the surface elevator, corporal. Find the button and push it, will you?"

Corporal: "But ..."

Lieutenant: "Just. Just go with me on this. Alright? Try the elevator."

*screech and whirr of waking machinery*

Sergeant: "... But that's impossible. We've just had a full-scale EMP strike. Total blackout conditions. Not even the flashlights work! What the hell ...?"

Lieutenant: "Humming."

Sergeant: "What?"

Lieutenant: "I wondered. I thought ... I don't know what I thought. But I've been hearing it. The past four hours. The whole time. I couldn't figure out what I was listening to. The humming. Listen for it. When the elevator stops."

Corporal: "... Sir?"

Lieutenant: "Listen. Both of you. Shut up for a second and listen."

*dull electrical humming*

Sergeant: "Sir? What is that?"

Corporal: "... It's the fluorescents. Isn't it, sir. It's the lights."

Sergeant: "What? But that would mean ..."

Lieutenant: "It would mean they've been on, all this time. It would mean the lights never went off. This base never lost power. Yes."

Sergeant: "But ... but none of us can see. And the ... None of the computers, none of the radios ... I mean, the power has to be gone, sir! It's pitch black in here, and all our communications are down. The power must be ..."

Corporal: "It's not the power. It's us. Whatever happened. It didn't happen to the base. It happened to us. That's what you mean. Isn't it, sir?"

Lieutenant: "... Our communications are gone. Every stash of non-electrical supplies beyond basic water and food has been cleared out. In four hours, provided my watch hands haven't been tampered with, we haven't met a single other living soul down here. But the elevator works. And the lights ... the lights are still on. We just ... can't see them." *swallows* "I think, corporal, that this is most definitely happening to us, yes."

Sergeant: "... Presuming enemy action, sir. Why would they ... why would they take our ... Sir. If they've blinded us deliberately, why not kill us? Why shut down communications, take away everything that would let us realise that it's not the electrics that are the problem, and then ... and then just let us run around. Why would ... What is this?"

Corporal: "... If you turned off the lights and blinded somebody in the dark ... maybe you'd feel like turning the light back on and seeing how long it took them to figure it out. Maybe that's why you blinded them in the first place. To watch them. To see ... what they did about it."

Lieutenant: "The lights are still up. What do you want to bet that the CCTV is as well, corporal?"

Corporal: "... I don't know. How about a new set of eyes? You got one of those on hand, sir?"

Sergeant: "Jesus. Jesus Christ."

[tigriswolf]

Avengers movieverse, Winter Soldier (+ Captain America), Bucky Barnes died when he fell from a train high in the mountains. The Winter Soldier is his grave.

less dark than I intended

[daria234.livejournal.com]

Twelve HYDRA agents with machine guns surrounded Steve. He looked around, gripped his shield. He could get most of them. He could run through the wall of bullets from the others, heal up in a few days.

Probably.

The sound of five rifle shots then, in fast succession.

Twelve bodies on the ground. From five shots.

Steve looked up and saw a silhouette running away.

He followed as fast as he could.

When he got close enough to yell, he wanted to yell Bucky's name. But they'd had enough encounters for Steve to know better.

"Why?" he shouted, not hiding the desperation in his voice.

The Winter Soldier stopped, turned around.

"Why'd you help me?" Steve said. He willed Bucky to know the answer, the real answer.

"Bucky is dead," he replied, and Steve tried not to look crushed.

"Then why?" Steve said again, pressing, walking slowly forward.

The Soldier paused. "James Barnes died so I could be born. I'm not him, but I owe him my respect. I don't think he'd like it if I let you get killed. That's all."

Steve swallowed, nodded. "I could have taken them without your help," he said, rather weakly.

Another pause, longer. "Sure you could, punk." He turned and ran away.

Steve stared after him, smiling.

[tigriswolf]

Avengers movieverse, Captain America + Winter Soldier (vs everyone), there is only one way Steve Rogers would ever go 'darkside'

fill

[likewinning.livejournal.com]

rather give the world away than wake up lonely.

When it comes down to it, Steve can't save Bucky, but he can't kill him, either.

He takes a third option.

The others side against him. They threaten Bucky's life, tell Steve they can't let him keep going like this. SHEILD and HYDRA agents (same difference, these days) are dropping left and right, and the Winter Soldier pays no heed to who gets caught in the crossfire. And Steve doesn't stop him.

Barton is the only one who even half understands. He knows what it is to want to save something that, perhaps, cannot be saved. But when it comes down to it, when the bodies still pile up and the bloodshed continues, even he says, "He's not Bucky any more, Cap. Not your friend. There's nothing left in there but a soldier, and he isn't on our side."

But Steve remembers, still, that Bucky had the chance to kill him, and he didn't. He could have; everything programmed into him by bad guys with genius brains told him to.

And he didn't. He pulled Steve out of the water.

As far as Steve is concerned, they're still on each other's side, and Steve isn't going to let anyone near Bucky.

It isn't the first time Steve chooses his best friend over the rest of the world, but it's the first time he makes the rest of the world – the Avengers, SHEILD, anyone who stands in their way – his enemy.

He knows the others will come for them, that when they are done fighting amongst each other and debating what to do, one of them will make the final call, and there will not be mercy.

And if (when) it comes to that, Steve and Bucky (the Winter Soldier, James, it doesn't matter when you get right down to it) won't, either.