Thursday: Dark Fic

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

Hello, everyone. I’m dreamsofspike and today's theme is dark fic. Prompts can be anything dark - death fics, fics that involve abusive dynamics or harmful relationships, fics where your characters are suffering emotionally and/or physically, anything dark or sad or disturbing - whatever that happens to be, to you.

Just a few rules:
No more than five prompts in a row.
No more than three prompts in the same fandom.
Use the character's full names and fandom's full name for ease adding to the Lonely Prompts spreadsheet.
No spoilers in prompts for a month after airing, or use the spoiler cut option found here.
If your fill contains spoilers, warn and leave plenty of space, or use the spoiler cut.
If there are possible triggers in your story, please warn for them in the subject line!

Prompts should be formatted as follows: [Use the character's full names and fandom's full name]
Fandom, Character +/ Character, Prompt

Some examples to get the ball rolling...
+ Grimm, Nick Burkhart/Monroe - his Grimm power goes to his head
+ Supernatural, Dean Winchester/Crowley - Crowley's desperate for demon Dean's friendship
+ iZombie, Ravi Chakrabarti/Blaine DeBeers - abuse of power

We use AO3 to bookmark filled prompts. If you fill a prompt and post it to AO3 please add it to the Bite Sized Bits of Fic from 2017 collection. See further notes on this new option here.

Not feeling any of today’s prompts? Check out Lonely Prompts Spreadsheet 1 (not very current), Lonely Prompts Spreadsheet 2, or the Calendar Archives, or for more recent prompts, you can use LJ's advanced search options to find prompts to request and/or fill.

While the Lonely Prompts Spreadsheets and LJ's advanced search options are available, bookmarking the links of prompts you like might work better for searching for in the future.

Comments

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

Grimm, Nick Burkhart/Monroe - his Grimm power goes to his head

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, Dean Winchester/Crowley - Crowley's desperate for demon Dean's friendship

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

iZombie, Ravi Chakrabarti/Blaine DeBeers - abuse of power

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

iZombie, Ravi Chakrabarti/Blaine DeBeers - rescued from experimentation

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, Sam Winchester/Crowley - at his mercy

SPN, Sam/Crowley At his mercy

[jdl71.livejournal.com]

"Hello Sam." The Cockney accent rings out in the barren room. "Did you miss me?" Crowley steps in front of Sam, a smile on his lips. "You look like you might be having a problem there." Crowley chuckles at his own joke.

Sam looks up at him, hatred coloring his feature. He struggles against the ropes binding him to the chair he's sitting in. He's bound to the chair by his wrist and ankles. "What the hell do you want, Crowley?" The words coming from Sam, said with venom in his voice.

"Moose, don't pout. It's unbecoming. Cheer up, we're about to start having some fun." Crowley laughs as he starts to walk away. He stops, turns back to Sam. "Oh, by fun I mean torturing you." He winks at Sam. "Oh, make yourself comfortable. You're going to be here awhile." He calls over his shoulder, walking over to a table on wheels. He looks down at the items, everything he needs for today's torture session has been laid out for him. Rubbing his hands together, he takes a deep breath. He places his hands on the table and begins to wheel back to Sam's position.

Sam's eyes widen when the table stops next to him and he sees the instruments of torture. Crowley reaches over and runs a hand along Sam's jawline. "I think I like it best when you're at my mercy."

"Screw you, Crowley."

Crowley smiles at the response. "A little foreplay, then?"

Sam moves in the chair, trying to free himself. Whoever tied the knots did a damn good job. The only thing he was accomplishing was rubbing his skin raw.

He watched as Crowley covered himself with an apron. "Don't want to dirty the suit. This is going to get messy." There was a cheery tone to his voice.

Picking up a knife, Crowley examined it. The light glinted off the metal, catching Sam's attention. Crowley turned to him, knife in hand. "Let's get started, shall we?"

[evil-little-dog.livejournal.com]

Fullmetal Alchemist, Envy+Roy Mustang (or Envy+Riza Hawkeye), Envy's disguises work in the caverns under Central, leaving one (or the other, or both) dead

[wrong-song.livejournal.com]

There were so many ways this could go wrong, but Envy felt there was little choice in the matter. How long could this disguise reasonably be expected to hold out, before some random thing gave away the game? Would Mustang even react if he figured it out, or would he bide his time, letting Envy start to believe the disguise had worked, before unleashing his flames again?

Not to mention, the idea had come straight from the Lieutenant herself. That had to count for something.

Decision made, Envy cocked the gun and pointed it straight at the back of the Colonel's head.

"Lieutenant?" Mustang said sharply, raising gloved hands.

"See, that's what you gave you away," Envy said. "When it's just us, the Colonel calls me Riza."

There was a beat, two, and Envy itched to just pull the trigger and end this. But the only potential sacrifices Envy could place in Central were the Fullmetal Pipsqueak and the Flame Alchemist. Father might need him. Otherwise...

"No, I don't," the Colonel said, calmly, in an almost eerie echo of Envy's own words just a few minutes prior. Words that had made the Hawk's Eye hesitate, just for a moment. Envy's far, far superior strength had done the rest.

Oh, if only the Colonel could witness what had become of his dear one.

"When it's just us," the Colonel continued, "I call you Amanda."

Code names. Of course, they had code names. They'd thought they were so clever, playing their little games.

How was Envy possibly supposed to know what names they'd used? Father had an entire department of the military to keep track of ridiculous nonsense like that.

It all came down to a 50/50 chance. Envy could try to knock the Colonel out, but what if that failed? What if he had time to snap his fingers again? What if...

Could Envy reasonably be expected to just sit back and be burned alive for the cause?

The Colonel made the decision, in the end. Envy had hesitated too long, and, as the Colonel snapped, Envy had just enough time to pull the trigger.

It wasn't fast enough to avoid being roasted, but it was the last time the Flame Alchemist would ever burn someone alive.

[evil-little-dog.livejournal.com]

Fullmetal Alchemist 2003, Winry Rockbell+Roy Mustang, Winry wants vengeance for Roy killing her parents

Fill: to the best of my abilities :)

[rhymesofblue.livejournal.com]

He doesn't expect it, the random visit to the north, the shy smiles and grief filled speech, and maybe that's why it works: why he doesn't notice when she pulls the hidden gun and the bullet shoots right through his heart instead of only grazing an artery. If he would have moved a little to the right instead, perhaps it would have only been a scrape. Her aim is not that good, afterall.

He drops, no, crumbles, before her, like a balloon running out of air, and red begins to spill out from under his blue jacket.

She wonders if this is what her parents looked like, when the great flame Alchemist shot them. If they were killed quickly, a shot to the brain, or slowly, bleed them dry and forced to watch the other die.

Mercy kills, soldiers call the quick shots, but there was nothing merciful about an act of such ordered hatred.

He falls on his back and she can see red flow out from his mouth when he tries to speak, but all that comes out is garble.

She wonders if this is what Ed looked like, all those times he was injured and hurt before he was lost for good.

She's lost too much, she thinks.

She steps over him, while he is still trying to speak, and glances down only to be met with eyes the color of night filled, surprisingly, with acceptance.

"They may have forgiven you," Winry starts, lowering herself to a crouch over him and feeling as his breathes grow more and more labored, "but I never did."

When Roy Mustang dies, he dies staring into the eyes of a country born blonde woman: smiling.

[evil-little-dog.livejournal.com]

MCU, The Avengers, The Chitauri won in New York.

[jdl71.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, Dean Winchester, Longing to be a demon again

Fill

[rhymesofblue.livejournal.com]

He doesn't tell Sam about them: the dreams, the urges, the cravings. The desire for depravity sewn into his soul so deep he could never tear it out.

He doesn't say how he misses black eyes and how you have a clean conscience when you don't have a conscience and how much easier it all is then, how much easier it is to give in.

He dreams about rolling out throats and tearing apart rib cages, but he doesn't dare say a word about any of it.

He takes the urges out on hunts, rips into creatures the way he once ripped into flesh: slow and sharp and stinging, laughing when he shouldn't.

Sam never stops him. More often than not, he joins in.

[jdl71.livejournal.com]

Supernatural Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester Sam needs help getting demon blood again

[classics-lover.livejournal.com]

Dragon Age Inquisition, any Inquisitor/any, the Nightmare takes the Inquisitor

[classics-lover.livejournal.com]

Dragon Age 2, Hawke/any, turning to necromancy following Leandra's death

[jdl71.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, Chuck (God) even has a dark side

[tigriswolf]

Supernatural, Dean Winchester + or / Sam Winchester,

So stand me by that column
Let me take this temple down

[templefugate.livejournal.com]

DC, The Joker, how is it a killing joke if no one dies?

[templefugate.livejournal.com]

DC, Edward Nygma/Bruce Wayne, reforming is hard but breaking bad habits is even harder

[tigriswolf]

MCU movieverse, author's choice, History knows that Bucky Barnes died in the mountains. History is not wrong. Bucky Barnes died young and afraid and alone.

Fill -- End of Days

[vanillafluffy.livejournal.com]

At first, he can’t remember why he’s lying there. He isn’t cold, isn’t in pain…his eyes are playing tricks, because the walls are a mile high and the flat gray ceiling is far, far above him. There’s an almost familiar noise, like an express subway train clattering through the station on its way to somewhere else. It echoes through the ravine from the mountain heights.

Train…he was just on a train, wasn’t he? With Steve? Not a subway train…recollection of riding the zip-line down to board that train slides a major piece into the puzzle. Not what he’s doing here, but he remembers being on the train, thinking he was going to die. Except he hasn’t, has he?

He swallows. Tries to work up enough spit to talk. “Steve--” he tries to say, but nothing happens. He’s colder than he thought, because he can’t make himself move, to get up and look for his friend.

Fighting panic, he manages to turn his head. Trees off to the right. To the left…red. The snow is stained scarlet and something is sticking up. At first, he thinks it’s a tree branch, but his brain finally processes it: the broken branch is him…it’s where his left arm has snapped off like a twig.

Horror dawns on him. He can’t feel anything because his back must be broken. Losing his arm would be bad enough, but if he can’t move, he can’t get up, can’t patch himself up with a tourniquet and build a fire. Cold slows bleeding, he knows, or he would have bled out by now. Pretty soon, he’ll die here, all alone in the middle of nowhere, frozen like a side of beef in the butcher’s cold room.

He survived captivity and Zola’s experiments for this? He knows life isn’t fair, but this is monstrously wrong.

No amount of effort stirs his limbs. Always active, healthy and athletic, he’s doomed to immobility, doomed by immobility. He doesn’t expect the Commandos to come to his rescue; they’re busy winning a war, no point wasting time coming after him. His fighting days are over.

Admit it: all his days are over. Never mind that he’ll never march home--he’s not going home at all, ever. He’s ridden his last subway--hell, his last train! His breath hitches and he can hear his dad’s voice telling him “Be a man!”, whatever that’s supposed to mean. He tells himself that Bucky Barnes is no cry-baby, whether anybody is watching or not.

Being a man? There won’t be any more ladies to cuddle up with; the chorus line of chorus girls will have to make do with other stage-door romeos. He imagines soft marcelled hair and cheap perfume, the trademark of the breed. Sorry, ladies….

His sisters…they won’t carry on the family name, but maybe someday one of them will have a son and name him James, and tell stories about them growing up and him being a good brother…. The hot streak that scores the side of his face is a tear, and once the dam breaks, it can’t be stopped. He sobs for his sisters, for his mother, who will get the telegram, and display a gold star in the front window and never know with what fierce love her firstborn thought of her in his last moments.

All the dreams of adventures after the war, of a wife and a family of his own some day, of simple things like watching a baseball game or a show at Radio City (where they have all the prettiest chorus girls)…they’ve gone on to whatever hereafter awaits him. Exhausted, his tear-swollen eyes droop closed.

He hopes Steve is alright. Hopes he got…whatever they were trying to get from that damned train. Jesus, who’s going to keep him safe now? Because if there’s one thing he knows, it’s Steve’s knack for doing ridiculously stupid things, not the least of which is showing up for this stinking war to begin with. The possibilities briefly distract him from his own predicament.

James Buchanan Barnes is sleepy. Just a little nap…he’s sure it will perk him up. He’ll worry about Steve later…but there is no later.

…..

[tigriswolf]

Disney, Snow White + Briar Rose, nightmares

[cozy-coffee.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, Evil Winchester brothers, they hunt human’s for fun

SPN Winchesters Hunting

[jdl71.livejournal.com]

Nudging Dean, Sam indicates to a couple sitting near the door of the diner. "How about them?" Sam askes quietly.

Dean turns slightly looking in the direction of the door. Turning back to Sam, a smile on his face. "They're perfect."

The couple looks to be in their mid twenties.

Happy with his pick, Sam flags down their waitress for their check. Paying, he gets up and leaves the diner, followed shortly by Dean. He walks by Sam, smile on his face. "Show time." He says, green eyes alight with anticipation. The couple walks out a few minutes later, making their way to their car. Sam approaches them.

"Excuse me, my brother and I are a little lost. Are you from around here?" He smiles, having used this rues before. The man smiles, placing an arm around the woman he's with. "Yeah, we grew up here." Sam makes sure to look relieved. "Great, could you give us directions? Our car's right over here." They follow Sam around the building away from prying eyes. Sam hums to himself. It's so easy sometimes. Dean has a map spread out over the hood of the Impala. He looks up hearing the approaching footsteps. He smiles. A smile only Sam recognizes, welcoming their prey. "Sam."

"Dean, this nice couple can give us directions." Turning back to them. "Sorry, I didn't ask your names." The man steps forward, introducing them as Mike and Lisa. They walk over to Dean, not noticing Sam as he comes up behind them. He grabs Lisa as Dean shoves Mike's head against the car, knocking him out. "Lisa, listen carefully. Nothing will happen to you if you don't give us a hard time." Dean steps forward, grabbing her hands as Sam slaps duct tape over her mouth. Fearful eyes watch as her hands are tied and she's shoved onto the floor of the backseat. Mike was dumped next to her before they're covered with a blanket. Dean and Sam get into the front seat before pulling out of the parking lot.

Dean drives for awhile. Sam fidgets next to him. The anticipation building in him. He can barely contain himself. "Sam, relax. We're almost there." The car slows as Dean drives over gravel. Arriving at their destination, Dean parks the car. They both get out, going to the back doors to help their prey. The doors swing open and the blanket pulled back. "Rise and shine." Dean croons out. Sam grabs Lisa and pulls her out, letting her fall to the ground. Dean does the same to Mike, but forces him to walk to Sam and Lisa. Dean shoves him onto his knees.

The brothers stand in front of the cowering couple. Sam speaks first. "Here's what's gonna happen. You're gonna run and we're gonna hunt you. Simple as that." Sam looks at Dean, he's practically vibrating with energy. Dean smiles and leans forward, slightly. "What my brother forgot to tell you are the rules of the hunt. You get a ten minute head start, with only what you have with you. We get to use any weapon we choose to hunt you. If you make it to the main road, you get to live. If we get to you first then, well let's just say it won't end well for you."

Lisa sobs behind the duct tape. Sam reaches forward and rips off the duct tape. Lisa screams for help as Dean cuts the rope with his knife. Mike clutches her to him. "You sick bastards. You won't get away with this." Sam kicks out at him, catching him in the stomach. Mike gasps in pain. "Manners Mike, or no head start for you."

Lisa screams again. The brothers just laugh at her attempt to draw in help. The main road is over fifteen miles away. Dean and Sam had done their homework, picking a remote place. They're experienced hunters. Their prey are just frightened animals.

"Scream all you want. No one's gonna hear you. By the way, your time starts now." Dean sets his watch to count down the ten minutes. He walks over to the trunk and rummages around for a weapon. It's not until he tosses a gun to Sam do Mike and Lisa get with the program and run. Disregarding them, the brothers begin to load up on weapons. When the timer goes off Dean slams the trunk closed. Smiles spread across their faces.

Dean turns to Sam. "You ready?"

"Can't wait, let's go."

Giving out a few yells of excitement they begin running after their prey.

"You can run, but you can't hide." Dean calls out, letting the couple know the hunt has started.

[cozy-coffee.livejournal.com]

Shadowhunter’s, Alec/Magnus, Valentine has committed many terrible sins; his worst crime....cutting off Alec’s wings

Shadowhunter, Alec/Magnus

[jdl71.livejournal.com]

Valentine had committed many terrible sins, but this was his worst by far. No one had seen this coming. Not even Magnus with the power he had at his fingertips. He paced the room, trying to figure out how to fix this. If this could even be fixed. His heart was broken. Not because Alec had ended their relationship. No, they were still together. But, Alec wasn't whole. He was broken, most likely beyond physical repair.

He heard the whimpering coming from their bed. He stopped his pacing to look at the man he loved, laying in their bed. Medicated so he felt nothing. Giving him time to heal. He placed a comforting hand on Alec's cheek. "Hush now. I've got you. I love you." He murmured to the sleeping man. Alec whimpered again, but continued sleeping.

Magnus continued pacing, stopping only when he noticed his fists were engulfed in flames. How he wished he could release this anger and fire at Valentine. But, that would be too easy. Valentine needed to pay for his crime. He had to suffer the way he's made Alec suffer.

Just two days ago, they were happy and together. Alec had been called by the Clave to assist in moving Valentine to a more secure location. He'd gone without a second thought, kissing Magnus and telling he'd be back shortly. Izzy, Jace and Clary were there as backup. But, they hadn't been enough to stop Valentine.

It was still unclear how he'd been able slip his binding, physical and magical. When it happened, Magnus had been summoned to help restrain him. It was to little to late. Maybe if he'd been there from the start none of this would have happened. Maybe . . .

When he arrived, he found Valentine with a Seraph blade in one hand. The other was wrapped around Alec's throat. He was choking Alec, demanding he produce his wings. All he could do was watch as Alec's wings unfolded from his body.

"That's it." Valentine looked at the wings, a cruel smile on his face. He brought the sword up in an arc, bringing it down and severing one of the wings. Alec's eyes widened, but before he or anyone else could react, the other wing was severed.

Magnus watched as Alec's legs buckled from the pain and blood loss. He fell to the floor as Valentine released his grip. Picking up the wings, Valentine opened a portal and disappeared.

In an instant, Magnus was by Alec's side. Alec looked up at him through pain laden eyes. "My wings. He cut my wings off." Thankfully, Alec slipped into unconsciousness. There would be time to deal with that loss after the bleeding stopped. Magnus opened a portal, bringing them back to his home. As the others hovered by Alec's bedside, Magnus cleaned the wounds, applying a healing salve and bandaging the area. He undressed Alec, gently cleaning off any blood and helping him under the covers. He wiped the tears from Alec's face brought on by pain and sorrow.

The others had stayed, watching over Alec as he slept. He woke for brief periods of time, allowing Magnus to hold him as he grieved for his loss. Magnus begged him to let him ease the pain, not take away the memory of the wings, but to lessen it. Alec would only shake his head no. Magnus had resorted to slipping Alec a sleeping aid to help his body start to recover from its trauma.

Now, he paced again. Plotting, planning. All this magic at his fingertips and he was at a loss as to how to erase Alec's pain and he felt useless. Movement from the bed caught his attention. He looked over, seeing Alec struggling to sit up. "Alec, what are you doing? You need to rest. Don't move."

Alec shook his head. "I need to leave." Feebly he threw off the blankets. Magnus was beside him. Stopping him.

"Why do you need to leave?" Magnus held his hands and kneeled by the bed.

"I'm no longer me. You loved me wings." A sharp intake of breath had Magnus looking at him. Tears rolled down Alec's face. Magnus wiped them away before cupping his face.

"I loved you before you had your wings. I fell in love with you, not your wings." He placed a hand on Alec's heart. "This is why I love you." He felt Alec's body as it was wracked with sobs. Moving carefully as not to cause anymore pain, he climbed into the bed. He helped Alec to lay down, his head in Magnus' lap. He stroked the soft dark hair until Alec fell asleep to his murmurings of unconditional love.

[tigriswolf]

MCU movieverse, Steve Rogers + ex-Winter Soldier, He’s prepared to do whatever it takes to keep Bucky safe and free. The thing is – the world isn’t ready for what that might mean.

Fill

[rhymesofblue.livejournal.com]

"You ready, Buck?" Steve asks, and he's smiling, wiping the blood from his cheek, and ignoring the bodies and falling buildings behind them.

Bucky nods and Steve's smile burns as bright as the world behind them.

[tigriswolf]

Supernatural, Amara, twenty words for darkness but none at all for light

[creepy_shetan]

any video game fandom, any, picking fights and savoring the pain (in a "go on, I deserve it" way)

[creepy_shetan]

author's choice, any, a hollow victory

[creepy_shetan]

any non-Western fandom, any, (gathering and) mourning the dead during a (canon) war