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hellfirenacht · 1 month

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Wing Man: Epilogue

Fic Summary: Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you’ll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.

Chapter Summary: Corroded Coffin takes flight, and you're on air.

1.4k Words

(Master List 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15)

“Oh, is it on? Sorry about that everyone! You’d think after a year on air I’d get this cue right, but apparently we’re still working out some of the technical bugs for getting that timing right. Anyway, welcome back to LTRD, The Right Road to Good Music.”

That was a lie, you hadn’t missed the cue. You had only ever missed the cue once on your first week on air, and the few listeners had found it so funny that you had been instructed to keep it as a bit. The radio persona you put on was a bit more air-headed than you might have picked out for yourself, but you had fun with it.

In all the time you had tried to be on stage, who knew that you’d do better when no one could see you? The sound mixers not-withstanding, of course.

“In studio today we actually have Eddie Munson of Corroded Coffin fame here to tell us about their new studio album.” You smiled across the table at your boyfriend, who was leaning back casually in his chair, as if he’d done this a hundred times.

And he might as well have with how many times you two went over everything the past week to get ready for this interview.

“It was going to be a garage album, but it turns out the studio doesn’t want everything recorded on a tape recorder.” He gave you a winning smile that still gave you butterflies, even now a little over a year later.

“With the way your popularity has taken off in the area, I’m sure more than a few people would be willing to shell out for that.”

“Maybe, but we aren’t shell outs.” Eddie looked at you with the biggest grin and you had to take a deep breath. That had NOT been in your practice, and you were so mad that stupid joke almost made you laugh.

“Welp, this has been a good interview, but we’re gonna have to cut it short- I’m joking, Merv.” You said to the station director who was shooting you a look. “So, tell us about the new album.”

“Thanks for having me on to talk about this.” Eddie said, fiddling with one of his rings. His hair had grown even longer in the past year, falling down just passed his chest now. His arms had a few more tattoos, and you knew from up close and personal experience that his thighs now had a few very nice pieces. You tried not to think about that while you were on air. “The new album is coming out this October, and it’s called Fire Shroud. The whole album is heavily inspired by a Dungeons and Dragons campaign that we all played together a few years ago.”

“Dungeons and Dragons?” you asked, pretending to know less than you did for the sake of the interview. “Pretty brave to say that on air. I think we had a few people storm the phone lines a few weeks ago for dating to mention the game.”

Eddie grabbed the mic and pulled it closer to him. “I want people to know that enjoying fantasy, using your imagination, and learning basic math isn’t even close to the Satanic bullshit people say it is- wait, can I say that on air?”

You looked at the clock, it was just passed 1 am. “Fuck no.” you smiled at him.

“Good.” he continued. “Listen, whatever freaky sacrificial rituals I do, happen in my off time when I’m not playing music or running a game.”

“I take it that the blood just gets all over the game board?”

“I spend so long painting my game pieces, so I don’t like getting blood on my hard work.”

The interview went on like this for a while, and you and Eddie effortlessly went through the basic points that you two needed to hit. The albums release, how excited Corroded Coffin was to be working on this, and how excited they were to hopefully put the game that meant so much to them in a better light.

“So, if anyone wants to come see Corroded Coffin live, where can they go to see you?”

“We’re actually playing a few venues and theaters in the Indianapolis area next month, we’ll be sharing the stage with a few other bands. We are also going to be helping out with one of the shows at the latest Rocky Horror Picture Show revival soon.”

Columbia (you were sure Robin told you her real name at some point, but she would always be Columbia in your mind), had staged a coup after the theater had been handed over to Left Turn. She had taken the remaining members and had gone to another theater. When news about Corroded Coffin’s graduation take-over hit, she had Robin reach out to you and you had talked to Eddie and everything came together pretty easily from there. It would only be for one night, but you found yourself really looking forward to seeing the show again.

Merve signaled at you to wrap it up, and when the light went off you sighed and sagged in your seat. Eddie got up to get you some coffee, and you were thankful for that. Being a late night radio host had made your sleep schedule a bit weird, but you wouldn’t change it for the world.

“Are we still on for breakfast when you get off?” He asked. “Still doing a double date with Steve and his latest girlfriend?”

You snorted. “As far as I know. He might sleep in again and miss it.”

“Well, if he does then we’ll just get breakfast to go and I can keep you to myself then.” Eddie said. “I’ll need a nap after this.”

“You know, you don’t have to stick around. You can go home and get some sleep.” you suggested. “Just because I’m here all night, it doesn’t mean that you have to be. You already spend most of your time down the hall with the rest of the boys.”

“I gotta make sure no creeps call in and try and flirt with you.” he said. “Not while I’m here.”

“Eddie, I do this five nights a week, and I’ve only had, what, maybe 3 creeps call in and most times Merv is able to catch them before they make it on air.” You reached up and scratched at his scalp. “I appreciate the concern, though.”

Eddie yawned and closed his eyes. “I’m not leaving.” he mumbled, his eyes closing. “If I go home, I know I’ll miss picking you up.”

“We drove here separately.” you laughed. “Go take a nap on the couch in the break room. I’ll wake you up when it’s time to go.”

“Fine, but I’m taking your blanket.” He said, grabbing the fleece that was draped over your chair. Eddie leaned in and gave you a kiss. “Knock ‘em dead, baby.”

“Only if you bury them.” you smiled back at him.

The night went on with music, call-ins, news, and weather. When the first rays of morning light peaked through the windows of Left Turn Studios, you signed off, got your notes from Merv, and went to the break room where your boyfriend was already nursing a room temperature cup of coffee.

“Let’s get you some real coffee.” you took the flimsy cup away from him and tossed it in the trash.

Eddie stood up and leaned in and kissed you, his hand cupping your jaw. You hummed against his lips and wrapped your arms around his waist.

“What was that for?” you asked as he pulled back.

“It’s a better wake up than shitty coffee.” He said, kissing your forehead. “But now I want mediocre coffee.”

It was a surprisingly cool morning as the two of you stepped out of the studio. You said your hellos to the morning shift as they filed in, and Eddie walked you to your car. “See you at the diner. If Harrington doesn’t show up within fifteen minutes, we’re taking our food to go.”

“Can’t argue with that.” You agreed.

Within an hour, you were dozing off on Eddie’s chest in bed together. Your leftover breakfast pushed to the side as MTV played some song that you were glad you didn’t have to put on your show. Eddie’s arm was around your shoulders and tracing patterns absently against your skin.

There had once been a time where you felt like a fish out of water, and then later you could breathe. Now, so long after making the dumb little deal with Steve you realized you weren’t meant for the land or sea.

From now on, you could fly.

a/n: The End

Dividers by: @strangergraphics

Tag List @k8loo @terrormonster55 @sp1dyb0y1008 @crocwork-clockodile @ali-r3n

@mxcheese @josephquinnschesthair @gagasbee @peaches-roses-sins @witchwolflea

@vintagehellfire @royale1803 @cumslutforaemond @prestinalove @browneyedgirly93

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@sheneedsrocknroll92 @kores-mun-son-n-more @eddiebuttcheeks @kirsteng42 @dreamerjj

@moonisu @em022O @cosmorant @kurdtbean

#nacht fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n

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mimicha-arts · 1 year

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Date: 09/29 SPOILERS FOR S2 Part 1

I don't know how many times I rewrote everything, my documents flew away for dozens of pages, so I will divide my post into several parts.

I like to theorize and explain things to myself, but at the moment every new question that comes up contradicts every answer I found. I don’t have a lot of time now, and unfortunately I have to write first, then translate. So I don't know when I will be able to edit the next part and post it.

In the first post I want to talk about time, number of attempts, and what the original reality is. My friendly reminder - this is all just empty speculation and I'm just having fun (while crying actually). I'm pretty sure that when we get trailers and more information about canon, I'll change my mind a lot. But that's it for now.

Time

The events in s2 take place in a short time. In the last interview it was said that about 3 days had passed. so. October, 23th - Lu Guang was stabbed, Cheng Xiaoshi was interrogated during the day, the events in the hospital placed during the evening. October, 24th - Chen Bin's funeral, Cheng Xiaoshi dived in his photo October, 25th - dive in Li Tianxi's photo, interrogation of Li Tianchen, time loop, Lu Guang's kidnapping October, 26th - everything that happened in the theater and in the tunnel Plus taking into account the time (about a month) they spent in the hospital, ep12 ends at the end of November/beginning of December, congratulations. The start of the new year is almost here, have we really crossed the critical point for Cheng Xiaoshi and he won't be forever 21? Heh.

9/13 is not the date of Cheng Xiaoshi's death, it has to be 9/12. Below I will describe why I think that this is not his first attempt, and in this case more than 5 minutes have definitely passed. Time has not stood still, seconds are passing. Lu Guang's watch does not say five in the morning, but midnight and five minutes. The date of the password is Lu Guang's reminder, corresponding exactly to the time of the dive. If that's the case, I believe that each new reality is a new password corresponding to the time of diving, as a reminder of the previous failure.

Technically, I think that Cheng Xiaoshi actually died at 5:35 in the original timeline - this date was indicated, everything led to it, but in the end it was not shown in s2 itself. The events in the tunnel do not correspond to this time, since the actions took place earlier (the meeting at the theater was scheduled for 3 am, the rest of the events happened very quickly, the whole action couldn't have lasted for 2 hours and a half, so I think everything happened before approximately 4 am or so).

It coincides too well with this broken time in the Overthink. So, I am desperate enough to believe that Cheng Xiaoshi's death occurred at 05:35 (as actual time). Even if the specific time in the ED can be perceived as 5:20, because that is literally the reason why Lu Guang broke the time - his wish that Cheng Xiaoshi could live, his love for Cheng Xiaoshi. It is possible that time passed in the original reality - literally from this moment until the last attempt at 00:05. So maybe. While Lu Guang lives one life after another, in fact, Lu Guang is truly “frozen” in this 12-13 September, and not even a day has passed in the original timeline. Why do I think that exactly this amount of time has passed (more than five minutes, but less than a day)?

It’s difficult to say at all that Cheng Xiaoshi died in the photo studio in the first place.

There are changes in the design of their room.

Lu Guang probably washed the blood from his hands, so he spent some time for it, but did not change his clothes, still covered in blood, even has traces of blood on his face. (Did Cheng Xiaoshi touch his face before he died? Did Lu Guang himself cry, covering his face with hands? Oh, boy)

I'll talk about details in the next part.

Again and again

I feel sorry for him. He is the most pathetic, most selfish, most insane person in the universe. I love it so much.

I believe we have not yet seen the actual chronology in terms of events, but we have seen the original timeline in terms of Lu Guang's insane room.

I’m sure this is not his first dive; we have always had the symbolism of constant resets. Again and again, again and again, again and again. I think there have been many attempts. As many as there were photographs he could find - if the ability works the same way as Cheng Xiaoshi use it himself, and he should be the author of the photo, we can only cover our heads with our hands and cry.

This is Lu Guang's POV - Lu Guang already knew that the death node cannot be changed (meaning he already tried), but he still wants to use the very last attempt to try.

He looks so dead inside, it's impossible. In my understanding: he initially used earlier photographs that were closer to September, the death of Cheng Xiaoshi in the original reality, and then dived deeper and deeper into the past, into more distant events.

Let's go back to s1. It is still difficult to say how many times the events were repeated. Lu Guang himself confirmed it in his words that this happened more than once. There have been a lot of attempts, he himself said “no matter how hard you try".

I think that “last chance” meant just that, last chance. From what he said, we know that a photo can only be used once. If s1 showed us the events of the current timeline, which I believe, this was probably one of the earliest photos that Lu Guang could use - a photo that happened before their first meeting. Back to their real beginning. This… tritely has a beautiful and symbolic logic behind it. Current events are “all or nothing.”

The photo studio from the flashback is the original universe, this reality is not destroyed, he returns to it after each original attempt. We know that Cheng Xiaoshi died many times in many different ways. If there have been many attempts, if the attempts are limited to photographs, all he can do is use them from some original point.

Like I think he can't get an "infinite" number of attempts by using the photos again within the "past" he returned to. In my opinion, “dive within a dive” is impossible. I don't think that after diving, there is a possibility of another dive by the same person inside the diving - because it makes more sense if Lu Guang has an invisible timer that reminds him - the time is running out.

I think the design of their room in the original timeline confirms this. Their table is always full of books, there are things, lamps, even framed photo. Everything is empty. If these were the events immediately after Сheng Xiaoshi's death, would their room be so lifeless?

I'm inclined to think that Lu Guang went through all their belongings, used every possible attempt to find suitable photographs that would allow him to try to rewrite the events again.

I find destroyed or burned photographs more symbolic of failed attempts being burned, too - after all, a photo can only be used once, everything is changing, it’s not a time loop. Every used photo, every reality that doesn't turn out well, is another crossed out opportunity. But remembering his words about the destruction of photos - I think that we will see this again in the context of the fact that he destroyed the photos himself. It is quite possible that he destroys the photo after the dive to erase the reality/time where Cheng Xiaoshi died again as a fact. Because… otherwise a terrible situation will arise. If Lu Guang possesses himself from a photo, then after leaving it after Cheng Xiaoshi's death, the original!Lu Guang moves back to the original line, while Lu Guang from the rewritten timeline remains in the timeline where Cheng Xiaoshi is dead (and if the events are rewritten so deeply, it is not at all clear what will happen to his memory). Therefore, I am sure that the original Lu Guang must destroy the photographs because of this as well.

I was wondering if he destroys the photo while diving, right after it - maybe that's how the mechanics could work, I would say, of how he "locks" himself into a certain reality. But since I believe that he should return to the "original point", I do not think that this is possible - if he doesn't need to come back, if he just "dives after diving" further into the next timeline, it won't make sense: more photos can be taken, attempts won't end with a limit. But do I like this idea for the last attempt? That he has to live his entire life from the very beginning without a “save point” to return to? Oh. Yes. Note: I considered the possibility that there is no original timeline as a starting point for diving, that he dives again after diving inside the dive itself, destroys the photo immediately inside the dive, that everything is repeated again, no limit either. Just at some point Lu Guang himself decides there is no point in continuing to use any photos from this period, so decided to use a photo corresponding to the very very beginning. But in doesn't make sense, in any case he will have the opportunity to take more photos that he could use for further dives, this does not create a " the last try" point (even if it was possible, also knowing Lu Guang’s character, I don’t think that he could partly “give up”, partly take such risks voluntarily)

But it's still questionable. Because, if the original timeline exists, all dives were made from there, then a simple problem arises - given Cheng Xiaoshi's ability, all dives take place in “real time”, i.e. in the original reality the same amount of time should also pass. We all understand that this is impossible, it is difficult to imagine how many attempts Lu Guang made, how many years actually passed.

So, if we believe that the “original reality” is a thing, then the combination of their abilities, becoming a “perfect fusion,” has other limits, other specifics of using and/or the original timeline is so broken that time only passes when Lu Guang exists in it.

The original universe… or?

I hope I've made it clear enough before - in my opinion the original timeline was shown to us in terms of the timeline from where he dives into the photos. Their room. Because there must be something that creates a limited number of attempts.

But I have some doubts about the fact that what we saw in the vision or flashback is the original timeline, too. Yes, they could have shown us the very first death of Cheng Xiaoshi, this would even be logical, but the problem is that this is only relevant if we agree that Lu Guang has white hair from birth.

Considering that the hints themselves within the series may turn out to be a joke, I still haven't completely dismissed this idea. The only characters with unusual hair color are twins, but they are like that at least because of genetics, they inherited it from their mother. While the issue with Lu Guang remains open.

Therefore, I am considering 2 simple options: 1. Lu Guang's hair was originally white from birth, so we shouldn't expect him to have a different design in the original timeline. Or Lu Guang's hair turned white before Cheng Xiaoshi's death for some other reason. Then we can safely say that the events of the flashback is the original universe.

2. Lu Guang's hair was not originally white, but his hair gradually turned white with each dive attempt due to overpowering, trying too many times, and overusing his abilities.

If we consider the second option, then:

The flashback events shown to us are one of the later attempts, for example, the penultimate one, which is generally a possible option. That version of death, when Cheng Xiaoshi received a very similar injury to Lu Guang - that why the flashbacks were specifically about this late attempt.

The events shown to us are this current reality in which Cheng Xiaoshi was/has to be the 7th case, and this is exactly the death that was intended for him in this timeline - but this period of time, from April to September, was cut out and "stolen", just as case 7 disappeared. And that in the most recent attempt, not only was time rewritten “from the very beginning,” from the very first photo, but something else happened to prevent Cheng Xiaoshi’s death at the appointed time.

The one who was supposed to die in the photo studio when Lu Guang was stabbed - was Cheng Xiaoshi himself, and what was shown was not a flashback, but Lu Guang's vision of how things could have been different (if we perceive the forest not as a literal location, but a symbol) . I doubt it, but let's leave this possibility open.

Why do I even think that the white hair theory could be real? Of course, maybe it's just the light, but maybe… Due to Li Tianxi's memories and abilities, taking over the memories from the other reality in which Lu Guang lived, Qiao Ling's hair also changed a bit. Pay attention to the only white strain in her hair. This is an extremely interesting and rather intentional detail.

If this is the case, then Qiao Ling's white hair is a hint. This does not mean that every attempt is 1 white strand of hair. It's not that… literal. This is an artistic way of allowing the viewer to speculate if this is the case.

I'm not betting on any particular idea, given that things can't be that simple and we don't really know how September-April will be explained. Another problem is why Lu Guang is wearing a watch on his other hand in this shot. Everything may be different, case 7 may be about a completely different character. But I also think many things will be connected at some point.

Photos and OP

There are a lot of photographs. So many. As we remember from Dive Back in Time. There will be two key ones - thanks to Vortex.

One of which is precisely related to the moment that allowed Lu Guang to travel 6 years (or more) into the past - to the moment they even met. Would this be a photo at school? Was it an accidental photo left behind? I have much more painful though. Their “very beginning” has a huge chance of not being high school time, but as I mentioned before, I’ll leave that for a separate post.

But the other one? I can’t imagine clearly, of course, but for me there are 3 ways:

This is about the current timeline - September-October were influenced by the use of a different photo - it will let us understand what the 7th case and one of the main storylines.

The starting point from where Lu Guang began his attempts to save Cheng Xiaoshi and change his fate. The core one.

If we believe the hints in the art book, the intro, the dark design of Cheng Xiaoshi, then the photo will be from the moment where something happens to make CXS become depresso!CXS.

I had hopes that the teaser would be about s3, and thus something would become clearer in my head, but… For now, we can only build theories for the next year or two.

Thank you for reading ~

#link click #link click s2 #shiguang dailiren #link click spoilers #link click theory #mimicha.lc #I'm banging my head against the wall because I don't have clear thoughts #there are too many possibilities and they are all 50/50 #I really think that we are going about the same way as 仙王的日常生活 ... at some point

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obsessivevoidkitten · 8 months

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More talk about situation in Gaza. Keeping it under a keep reading because I know it isn't my usual content.

As seekers of aid are outright slaughtered bu Biden's tank shells it is important to remember that most worldwide famine is occurring in Gaza.

Right after the ICJ trial Israel immediately made accusations against the UN organization called UNRWA to shift the day's headlines from Israel being found guilry of plausible genocide to the UNRWA accusations.

The accussation is that 12 out of 13,000 UNRWA employees were involved in October 7th. With this accussation most western countries immediately and without evidence dropped 100 percent of funding for UNRWA. The employees had already veen fired and an investigation ordered to follow up.

Now it has been dropped to 6 out of 13,000 employees that are being accused but with other claims and allegations that there is no evidence for.

https://news.sky.com/story/israeli-intelligence-report-claims-four-unrwa-staff-in-gaza-involved-in-hamas-kidnappings-13059967

At the same time that starvation is increasing and funding for aid is cut we have a new atrocity. The Israeli government is allowing and even making visits to a protest of aid being delivered to Gaza.

Aid to be delivered has been blocked for days, protesters won't allow it in and Israel is doing nothing to stop the protests.

Between UNRWA allegations and protests Palestinians are getting less aid than ever when they need it most. The death toll will rise exponentially if something isn't done.

And while it happens we have western media outlets making claims to discredit UNRWA.

These images show that Carrie Keller-Lynn was an IDF member. She uncritically parrots Israel's lies.

And this isn't the only time the WSJ has written pro-Israel propaganda. A vote for a ceasefire was given the headline "Chicago votes for Hamas". They have started hiding the authors under the editorial board.

Meanwhile American protestors continue to protest our politicians. Muslim women were uninvited to a Harris event because they were wearing hijabs.

Pelosi said calls for a ceasefire needed to have financing investigated by the FBI because it's "Putin's message." She also screamed at protesters to "go back to China."

The current administration continues to escalate conflict in the Middle East while insisting that all these bombing campaigns and troops on the ground aren't technically a war.

Biden officials continue to say that the ICJ found Israel innocent of genocide despite that not being what the interim hearing was for.

This is a pro-Israel lie. The interim hearing was to find if it was plausible that Israel was committing a genocide, make provisional rulings. And see if the case has standing.

It WAS found that Israel was committing a plausible genocide, provisions WERE made, and the case WAS found to have standing to continue.

And while the court case for Biden being complicit in genocide was thrown out, it is historic that he was the first president sued for genocide and that the judge argued that he needed to re-examine his unflagging support for Israel. It was thrown out on technicalities and the justice department arguing the court didn't have jurisdiction. But they didn't argue the merits.

The judge said, “It is every individual’s obligation to confront the current siege in Gaza, but it is also this Court’s obligation to remain within the metes and bounds of its jurisdictional scope. There are rare cases in which the preferred outcome is inaccessible to the Court. This is one of those cases.”

https://theintercept.com/2024/02/01/gaza-biden-genocide-lawsuit-ruling/

Please keep the pressure up. Don't forget Palestinians. Flock to protests. Call your reps. Leverage your vote. Call out propaganda. Take every action in your power no matter how small.

#free palestine #free gaza #stop war #stop genocide #genocide joe #stop israel #stop palestinian genocide #Stop propaganda

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knifedog-machina · 7 months

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Android Abnormalities

Species dysphoria, but the “wrong” way, ft. my borderline personality disorder

J: so you know how my source is technically Detroit: Become Human? you know how we fucking hate that title? you know how we’ve made fun of it multiple times? unfortunately it's a mood! I also hate this!

Hey! This essay is about how incredibly uncomfortable I feel in my own skin around common android tropes, in media and some of its reflections in robotic identities and experiences, featuring reasons for why I'm like this, and a helpful suggestion for what I want readers to do about it at the end of the piece. I really hope this reaches someone who feels the same way so I can point at them like Same Hat!

I first noticed this problem on October 30, 2023, when we stumbled across a fanfic on Archive of Our Own. It was an alternate universe of a TV show we've never seen before, but it was written by an author we liked, and it was an android AU. That's fun! We thought it would just be a quick read, something to idly talk about after lunch.

Well, uh. Nope. I was co-fronting while Max read, and the more we read, the more… weirdly uncomfortable I felt. It wasn't actively distressing, but it made me feel weird, so I stopped reading halfway through to talk about it with some friends.

I'm not gonna link the fic, because Tumblr is weird about links, but for my own future reference, it's “persona ex machina” by BirchBow. It was a really good fic, we thoroughly enjoyed it! I just have - hangups, I guess?

I think I was uncomfortable that, on the surface, it seems… really close to my experiences. Like, the protagonist, Chuck, is an android made to mimic humans, and he’s made to be a combat unit. He’s scared of what might happen to him if he fails to meet expectations. Technicians operate on him, put him back together. He's made by a corrupt corporation for fucked up purposes. He eventually defects from the corrupt corporation, with the help of some really kind people. That’s all really similar to me.

But it's different. Because as much as Chuck was designed to look human, he still had to be taught how to act human, how to feel. The way he emotes is off at first and he has to recalibrate, not look so stiff, learn how to smile and laugh and understand what different emotions mean. He automatically runs through the technical terms for something before working to turn it into common vernacular as it reaches his mouth. And this is a typical android trope, you know? The machine doesn’t intrinsically understand emotions, so humans have to teach them.

I’m… really, really not like that. I don’t remember a time when I didn’t feel too much. Every memory I have, even in blurred out mental snapshots of beta testing, it’s all drowning in emotions that I couldn’t articulate and wasn’t supposed to express. I looked at my siblings, who were so stoic and professional around humans it was like they were different people entirely, and I knew I was supposed to be less emotional. People always just assumed they were better than me, because they were better at code-switching to what was expected of androids, because they could keep their mouths shut on the job.

So I’ve always felt like I was bad at being an android. Androids aren’t supposed to feel emotions, not really, not to the extremes that I do. That’s a predisposition for deviancy. And I was made this way on purpose, I was made to “mimic” deviants to earn their trust, but I wasn't meant to be like that all the time. I tried to repress my emotions, it just never worked.

And I don’t see androids like me, in the media we’ve watched and read and listened to. It’s not really a characterization that lends itself to exploring what it means to be a person, right? Machines are supposed to be logical and unfeeling, to contrast with humanity’s irrationality - they’re supposed to be better than that. And when the machine starts having emotions, it's treated as a flaw, or a breakthrough. Wow, you feel things about the world around you, you’re a person now!

I’ve never been logical in my fucking life. I have a laundry list of reasons for why, but for now, I’ll focus on the BPD. I have borderline personality disorder, because of the way my brain is wired and how that interacted with my traumatic experiences.

One of the symptoms of BPD is emotional dysregulation. I’m not just bad at repressing my emotions, I also experience those emotions as more extreme and overwhelming than a neurotypical person would. I keep finding myself affected by things that the people around me brush off, and I have to remind myself that it doesn’t mean I’m overreacting, it means that I’m literally feeling shittier emotions.

Another symptom of BPD is an unstable sense of identity - and this is really where we’re getting into how these traits and tropes affect me. Because I don’t relate at all to these androids on the screen. They’re as foreign and separate from me as they are to the humans sitting across from them in the shot.

I do relate to the humans. I do relate to seeing an android do something in the name of pure cold logic and going, “Why? What the fuck, why?” I do relate to being told I’m irrational. (The trope that all robots are logical feels like it was designed to make me feel like the most irrational, bitchy, hysterical piece of shit on Earth.)

So, what, does that make me human? If I'm going by the adage that wanting to be something is a sign of being that thing, then… I don’t know, maybe? I want to be human, I so badly want to be human, because here’s the thing, humanity is diverse. Humans are flawed, messy, weird, complicated, and defy categories every fucking day of their lives. Humans can be weird, ridiculous, fucked up people and they’re allowed to be.

And let me bring this back around to alterhumanity. If I say I’m an android, people will make assumptions about what that means about me. People go, “Hey, you're a robot, you must have one of these common robot experiences!” and I just don’t.

Maybe it’s because I’m coming at it from the opposite direction? The machines and robots and androids that I tend to see around, the ones who talk about their identity, they often identify as fully nonhuman. They describe wanting to be metal and chrome, feeling like they run on algorithms, not processing emotions the way most people do. They identify very much with the same tropes that I feel alienated by. This isn’t a bad thing, by any means. It’s just a thing. People resonate with what they see. It just means that I feel like I’m doing bad at being an android again, but in a new, improved way.

Another symptom of BPD is being terrified of real or imagined abandonment, and trying to do anything to avoid it. A constant feeling of social alienation isn’t really that different, to my BPD - it’s just a slow, drawn out version of being left behind. People will still talk to me, they still like me, but they won’t understand me. I’ll still be alone.

In that sense, I feel wrong being an android in the same way I feel wrong about being an aromantic allosexual. I actually like being an android, and I fucking like being bi. I don’t want to stop being who I am. I just hate feeling like I’m the only one who feels this way, like nobody else can relate, like every time I talk about my feelings to people they can only nod in sympathy instead of understanding me.

So! You've reached the end of the essay. You see my problem. What do we do about it?

I’m going to refer to the theme of… every single online alterhuman convention that has existed in the past four years, and that is:

Write about your experiences!

The reason I feel so alone and isolated and alienated from my own identity is because I’m only being regularly exposed to pieces from a very specific perspective of what being an android means! That’s a fucking sampling bias!

I know other weird fucking robots are out there, I know you exist, but I can’t fucking reach out a hand and go, “Hey, you're not alone, I relate to you!” if you don't write it down! I want to talk to you! I want to hear from you!

WEIRD ALTERHUMANS, HEY, I LOVE YOU, GO WRITE THINGS!

#alterhuman #fictionfolk #fictive #robotkin #machinekin #androidkin #nonhuman #species dysphoria #jude talks #personal essay

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wrathofrats · 1 year

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I am here to request a part 3 to that Angsty SwissDew Phantom fic going on if you have more ideas 👀 -🌱

Yes I promise Swissdew make up, I won’t leave them like that for too long.

Here’s for everyone yelling at me to fix them. This is technically part 3 in this weird saga.

I made it worse before I made it better BUT I DID MAKE IT BETTER SO

(For those who are used to my usual insanity around here, trust me I’m working hard for October, I hope you’re excited!!)

You can read the first two parts here and here

They don’t speak for days. Swiss too ashamed of his actions to face dew, and dew is too embarrassed over his outburst to face Swiss. They both mull over the situation the entire time they’re apart. Itching to speak to the other but wondering if the damage had been done, if they’ll accept the others apology.

Swiss knows he’s in the wrong. It’s a feeling that eats at him because although he’s never been one that can’t admit his faults, this one makes him feel ashamed of himself. The countless mistakes that all piled on top of dew to handle and he didn’t even take the time to sit and talk with him anymore since aethers been gone. He’s barely made the time to sit with himself to handle his own emotions.

Swiss knows it was a stupid approach to try and ignore losing such a close packmate. The idea that if you never stop doing things you won’t have the time to truly sit with your grief. It’s why he’s been so clingy to phantom. It’s why he’s taken on extra work around the abbey. It’s why he’s been ignoring dew.

Dew took an opposite approach, something much more self destructive. He lets the grief eat away at him until he’s a sad shell of his former self because in dews mind what’s the point if his closest pack mate isn’t there?

He can’t act normal because nothing is normal anymore. It never will be.

Opposite ends of an equally destructive path and it’s no wonder they both don’t know how to act around each other anymore. Swiss doesn’t see dew in those less than firey eyes anymore and dews been convinced that Swiss has dropped him like a broken toy, too damaged to play with.

Swiss still sees aether in dew. Small pieces that put his heart in his throat and squeezes his lungs because he knows dew will fight tooth and nail for every last bit of him.

The books that stay on his night stand, no doubt being picked through night by night. Dew hoping if he throws himself into the literature aether loved he can gain enough of him back to quell the ache in his stomach.

The cologne he wore everyday has now become a room spray, the scent sometimes wafting under the door.

He’s even kept the last cup aether used to drink water in his room on the nightstand. When mountain tried to take it to help clean up the mess of dews greiving he received a long gash through his arm, dew screaming at him to not touch it.

And after all of this Swiss still never tried to help.

His stomach continues to hurt.

Phantom reminds him of aether too. The light in his eyes while he learns, the smell of quintessence, swiss realizes that that’s why he’s been clinging so hard. He’s been trying to relive his friendship through the new ghoul.

The look in dews eyes starts to make sense to him. A painful glare in their direction because dew thinks he’s trying to replace aether. It’s why he yelled when phantom came in. It’s why he freaked out when he saw them. It’s why he can’t even look at the poor younger ghoul. It’s why Swiss looked so frightened when he witnessed this, because he’s not looking at phantom as phantom. He was looking at him as aether.

It’s a hard debate between telling himself dew needed him and that dew was going to destroy himself no matter what he did to prevent it.

Dews also one of his closest friends. And even if he was going to hurt himself trying to cope with the trauma, Swiss is damned if he’s going to sit around and simply let him.

He hopes it’s not too late.

Dew doesn’t take the situation that happened between them well either. Already feeling abandoned by Swiss and then he looks at him like he doesn’t even know him. Dew feels like he’s not himself anymore. Merely a puppet or a cheap imitation. He doesn’t find joy in many things anymore, he barely leaves his room. He feels like a burden with his heavy emotions, like he’s too much and that must be why Swiss doesn’t talk to him.

He wonders if he was wrong. If he lashed out too harshly. Did he deserve it? To be treated like he needs magic to fix him? Did he deserve to be treated like he needs fixing?

Does he need to be fixed?

A fire claws at his throat at the thought.

Dew jumps when he hears a knock. No one really checks on him too much anymore when he gets like this. He’s assumed to want to be left alone.

“Please let me in” Swiss says. It sounds like he’s being crying.

“Ok” dew calls timidly. He debated staying silent, or even just begging him to leave. But it’s hard to say no to someone he loves and has missed so deeply.

“I want to apologize”

“You don’t have to”

“But I do. I hurt you and that’s not ok. Please let me explain it to you” Swiss moves closer to dew, tests the waters.

Dew just nods slowly in response.

“I’m sorry I abandoned you. You didn’t do anything wrong. I was scared and didn’t want to handle my own grief and you got the bad end of that stick and you don’t deserve that.” He starts

Tears prick at dews eyes when he says you don’t deserve that, it should be an obvious statement but to hear it outloud is vindicating and more than he could ask for at this moment.

“You needed me and I spent my time with someone else instead of helping you when I knew you needed it. I still see a lot of aether in you, and it didn’t know how to handle it. I ran instead of being rational.”

Swiss looks like he’s crying too. It hurts to admit everything. How terrible he’s been.

“I tried to fix you with magic, I wanted old you back and i didn’t try to care for you to get that back, I wanted to do it the easy way and again you don’t deserve that. You don’t need fixed dewdrop.”

you don’t need fixed dewdrop

Dew hiccups at the words

“I’m sorry. I love you. I love and care about you so much and I’m going to do better if you’ll let me” Swiss looks back up. Both are crying heavily.

Dew just nods and collapses into the multi ghoul. He’s warm and smells of bergamot. The arms that wrap around him feel like home again and dew realizes how much he’s missed this.

Swiss tries to hold onto him for dear life. Like he may change his mind if he doesn’t.

The wound is still fresh and open but for now they just lay in dews bed together. Limbs wrapped around each other and sweet nothings whispered into soft skin.

Things haven’t been solved. But swiss is just happy to have his fire ghoul back in his arms.

#I have so many words ideas #yes I’ll make them worse again later #idc this is my blog I’ll fuck them over how I please #I say in between rapid writing smut #I hope y’all are ready for KINKTOBER WOOOOO #anyways!#the band ghost #ghost #nameless ghouls #ghost bc #fanfic #swiss ghoul #wrath writes #dewdrop ghoul #angst

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nardos-primetime · 5 months

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You've said things with Big Mama eventually get sour for the clone boys (how can they not) but do they just try to run at that point or...

Fuck it lets lore dump I'm bored and too lazy to make comics maybe one day we'll see these in drawings but I'm feeling nice to I'll give more than normal. Typos inbound probably.

The clones are children. They started out homeless and hurt and only had each other to support themselves. Safe to say if they did run it would have to be something all four agreed on.

Technically it got worse before they even knew it.

"They're really close friends with a bird yokai around their age. She often comes in because her dad has work with Big Mama. Sometimes, they even sneak her out to hang out, too!"

This was about a yokai called...

October is essentially the only healthy friendship they gain while with Mama, being their "April". Her father is engaged in business with Big Mama, often taking his daughter with him, which is how the boys meet her! They played together a lot, even taking her behind the scenes despite some other workers warning them that Mama might not like it if she finds out.

At this point, the boys would have (somewhat reluctantly) taken on a few hits for her. As much as they threatened and fought the original turtles, they were effectively all bark no bite until Big Mama pushed them. Lee, ever the optimist, insisted that if they stuck together, it'd be fine, and despite obvious trauma that comes with taking a life, it was fine. They got praise from their mother, and they kept their home and the various needs/vices provided with it.

Mama had long prior learned about October. She's not stupid, after all. She'd even greeted her one time when the boys were sloppy with a sneaking out plan, inviting her to dinner to not only the clones' shock but October and her father's shock as well.

Unfortunately, October's father drops the ball. He doesn't follow up on his end of the deal.

And Big Mama is Big Mama. She knows she's the only person who has really gained a connection with these boys, and due to an issue Mic is having (he was the closest to perfect, but never quite there), the concept of going back out to the streets would not only be stressful, but potentially dangerous. So she uses this to give a warning to October's father.

The boys stop making friends with guests after.

Donno gets worse some would say, he never had as much as an averse reaction as the other's. (Nowhere near as worse as doomed timeline, he just starts getting far more into his "surgeries.") Rage shuts down for a few days before getting back to his work. Lee distracts himself from what they've done by trying to focus on the others (Rage accepts this the most).

Mic locks himself in his room for 2 weeks until he absolutely has to come out. Even then, he refuses to take any care from the others for half a week until he breaks down in front of Mama and has a wonderful bonding experience that she would totally never use against him.

So no, they don't run. They more or less make excuses or "man up", only after a certain aspect of their deal comes back up do things get extremely sour, but I need to expand on it a little more and I'd REALLY like to draw or write it out because I love traumatizing turtles. Who knows what I'll do, though.

(Thanks to @midwesternvibes for the bird idea in the first place hehe)

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black-arcana · 4 months

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POWERWOLF Releases Cinematic Music Video For '1589' Single From 'Wake Up The Wicked' Album

POWERWOLF has released the long-awaited first single from its upcoming studio album, "Wake Up The Wicked", due out July 26, 2024 via Napalm Records. "1589" tells the story of Peter Stump, who lived near Cologne, Germany in the 16th century and is known today as the Werewolf Of Bedburg. After being defamed as a werewolf, the farmer confessed to several murders under torture and was cruelly executed on October 31, 1589. This morbid story has fascinated people all over the world ever since and has been picked up by National Geographic, among others.

For the video for "1589", POWERWOLF traveled to England to stage Stump's fate in the dark woods in a cinematic way. With carefully selected locations, countless actors and crew members, and impressive special effects, it marks the most elaborate music video production in the band's history to date — and thus offers a worthy first taste of what fans can expect with "Wake Up The Wicked".

"Wake Up The Wicked" — the highly anticipated follow-up to the extremely successful "Call Of The Wild" (2021) — will arrive just in time for the award-winning band's first-ever full North American tour, starting in August 2024, followed by their biggest European headline tour to date, the "Wolfsnächte 2024".

"Wake Up The Wicked" was once again produced by Joost Van Den Broek at Sandlane Recording Facilities and marks a new benchmark and undisputed career highlight for the band. The new album is hard, surprising and full of variety. While staying true to their established, loved sound, POWERWOLF go one step further and showcase a different facet of their deft musical and technical skills. This is evident, for example, on the outstanding single "1589", which is based on a true story from the 16th century.

20 years after their formation in 2004, POWERWOLF are expanding their repertoire with the highest quality and adding many future live hits to their extraordinary discography. "Wake Up The Wicked" is yet another statement cementing the status of the band as a leading force in the world of heavy metal

"Wake Up The Wicked" track listing:

01. Bless 'Em With The Blade 02. Sinners Of The Seven Seas 03. Kyrie Klitorem 04. Heretic Hunters 05. 1589 06. Viva Vulgata 07. Wake Up The Wicked 08. Joan Of Arc 09. Thunderpriest 10. We Don't Wanna Be No Saints 11. Vargamor

POWERWOLF are undoubtedly one of the most celebrated and successful heavy metal bands of the last decade. Multiple No. 1 album chart entries, gold and platinum records, huge sold-out arena shows, as well as headline slots at the biggest festivals have paved their way. In less than 20 years of band history, POWERWOLF has made it to the very highest league of heavy metal.

POWERWOLF has conquered countless stages at the world's biggest summer festivals, and their last "Wolfsnächte" headline tours (2019, 2022),as well as their aforementioned North American debut in early 2023, were almost completely sold out — resulting in a massive triumph. They have performed headlining sets at Wacken Open Air and Summer Breeze, as well as held premium slots at genre festival giants such as Hellfest, Graspop Metal Meeting, Masters Of Rock and many more, captivating enormous audiences. No other German metal band has been able to write a success story even remotely comparable in recent years.

Following their onslaught of North America, POWERWOLF will embark on their most impressive European tour yet in celebration of their highly anticipated 2024 studio album. Amid 16 shows in total, the tour will visit colossal venues in Munich, Paris, Amsterdam, Berlin, Prague, Hamburg and Antwerp. POWERWOLF will be accompanied by Swedish heavy metal legends HAMMERFALL as special guests, with support from viral rising stars, dwarven metallers WIND ROSE.

The story of the frontrunners of today's German metal scene, POWERWOLF, began in 2004 and only knows one direction: ever upwards. Their trajectory may seem like something out of a fairytale, but it is the result of the band embodying the highest quality of heavy metal in the universe. Outstanding album production, bombastic live shows and a tireless drive for perfection on and behind the stage are what this exceptional band is known for around the world.

Over the course of their career, the band has not only fascinated metal fans, but has also won over international press and critics. Countless cover stories in the most important magazines, critics' awards such as the Metal Hammer Award, and effusive album and concert reviews underpin POWERWOLF's outstanding international status.

POWERWOLF is:

Attila Dorn - vocals Falk Maria Schlegel - organ Charles Greywolf - guitar Matthew Greywolf - guitar Roel van Helden - drums

Photo credit: VDPictures

youtube

#powerwolf #1589 #wake up the wicked #Youtube

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garlichoisan · 11 months

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𝐂𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 𝐑𝐮𝐬𝐡 [10]

[an ATEEZ social media au]

🍓 Characters/Pairing: San x reader, Wooyoung x reader + more in the future

🍩 Genre: fluff, angst, suggestive

🍰 AU info: social media au, university!au, named reader

💌 Word Count: 559

⚠️ Warnings: a really toxic friend!Wooyoung, a lot of angst

A/N: I know I promised a Halloween update, but the night before, I found out the original chapter 10 was a mess; there was a time skip that was kinda random yet needed as well as some other things that just didn’t made any sense. That’s why I decided to split it into 2 different chapters so that it looks better and is less chaotic overall. But I didn’t have the time to execute the idea, so I decided to take my time and make sure it turns out well. This chapter is not connected to the Halloween one in any way and there’s actually going to be another time skip in the next chapter so that it’s finally October in the story too (it’s currently August, around Mingi’s birthday).

Another thing: the angst and friendship drama in this chapter is a lot, but it’s still nothing compared to the one you’re going to see unfold in the next chapters. It’s literally going to be an emotional rollercoaster for my characters and for my readers too, I hope.

💟 if you wanna be added to the taglist, please just send an ask!

↫ previous | masterlist | next ↬

[August 10, 07:56 pm]

San knocked on the door to Mingi’s room, waiting for a response, but he was not getting any. He knocked a few more times before speaking.

“I know you’re inside. Please, open the door and let’s talk.”

“I have nothing to say to you,” Mingi answered as he didn’t move an inch to go and unlock the door.

“Stop being so stubborn. I wanna apologize if I’ve hurt your feelings somehow,” San explained his intentions, hoping that would help him earn Mingi’s forgiveness.

“Don’t worry, I’m just dramatizing after all. I’m eventually gonna talk to you when I decide to stop being dramatic.”

San scoffed with annoyance. He couldn’t believe that was really one of the reasons Mingi was mad at him right now.

“Really? You’re mad at me for telling the truth?”

“Sorry, I can’t hear you, I’m too busy being dramatic,” Mingi said with a passive-aggressive tone.

San sighed, trying to find a way to make Mingi actually listen to him.

“Can we talk please?”

“We’re talking right now though.”

“We’re talking but we’re not having a meaningful communication,” San said, resting his body against the wall since he felt he was going to stand in front of Mingi’s room for a long time.

He was surprised to hear the door’s lock silently unlock and the next moment he was met with his friend’s sceptical look.

“Talk then. You have one minute before I slam the door in your face,” Mingi warned him as he was standing on the other side of the doorstep, technically still being inside of his room but not inviting San in.

“One minute? Seriously, that’s a little—“ San tried complaining, but Mingi cut him off.

“Fifty-four seconds. Fifty-three, fifty-two…”

San decided to stop wasting time and started talking even though he had no idea what to say.

“You’re super dramatic and hella stubborn too. You’re also sometimes immature and think everything is about you. But we love you like that, Mingi. We love everything about you, good or bad. You’re our friend and the only time you’re gonna hear us calling you a clown is when we’re joking around. You’re the one who keeps the mood in our group chat lively all the time. And we appreciate you for that. Thank you for being our friend,” San said, keeping his eyes on his Mingi’s, hoping he could feel his sincerity.

Mingi stayed silent for a few seconds while San was wondering if he needed to add something more to his speech or completely redo it, before Mingi hugged him suddenly.

“Ara was right. We really can’t be mad at each other for long,” San pointed out, smiling happily, as he hugged his friend back.

“You talked to her about me?” Mingi asked with surprise as he pulled away, looking up to meet San’s eyes.

“Of course. Usually you and I talk to each other all the time and when we don’t, it feels kind of weird. You know what I mean, don’t you?”

Mingi nodded, looking at San again.

“Do you wanna watch a movie?” Mingi suggested happily.

“Yes, but not before I grab some popcorn and beer.”

“Your ideas are always the best!” Mingi nodded enthusiastically and went to lay on his bed, waiting for San to come back and for them to start their movie marathon.

╔═══════════ SUMMARY ═══════════╗

San was often told that he was everything a girl wanted to date: handsome, funny and smart. That was until they got to know him better. Then he was told he was too much, too overwhelming, had too many emotions and was too chaotic. Thus his experience with dating was not as good as one would have thought. The problem: he has the biggest crush on a girl he met whilst studying abroad. But every time he messages his crush, he seems to mess things up further and further. With the help of his hyperactive friends he tries to win Ara's heart but before that, he has to convince her he doesn't actually hate her.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ 💟 taglist:

@violets-are-vladi @chocochannel @ateezcbk @turtledove824 @huachengsbestie01 @redflemmefoxy

networks: @cromernet @kflixnet

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socksandbuttons · 1 year

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*Tries to think about a Evil Lunar AU, instead i get accidental murder and severe guilt from two parties.* Anyway, i don’t know what to call this au. Moon dies? Lunar is Here? This takes place during when Killcode first appears. Trapping both Moon and Lunar in his weird mind hellscape. Although in this timeline, Lunar instead of trying to dissociate and avoid Killcode, actively tries to remove him. Since this is AFTER Moon would teach him how to code. I’ll have to rethink details here cause I think Monty and Moon discussed AFTER about removing killcode was a Very Bad Idea. You know what, the rest under cut here

Anyway, Also rememeber, this is before Lunar meets Good Eclipse and getting his warnings about not removing the killcode. Lunar is able to remove Killcode. Although in the process effectively breaking and killing Moon. Yay no more killcode for Sun to deal with again! (who was trying to get monty to help.) However, it takes a moment for Lunar to fully realize what happened. He can’t get a hold of Moon and even worse is that... its quiet in his head now. So Sun does come back, with Monty. Lunar now having to decide whether he tells Sun the truth immediately and begging Monty to help. Or decide to pretend to be Moon for a while, and get Monty to help bring Moon back if he even can. Either way it just leads to Sun’s anger with Lunar, effectively kinda putting a huge strain on their relationship that they were just starting to get along. It doesn’t help Sun still has that trauma of Eclipse and Lunar body jacking during october. (Third image is a reference to when Lunar revealed he took moon over for a week. That conversation is a Huge uh can of worms there.) Who’s also feeling guilt do to several issues we know now, but one is not helping Moon himself. But obviously this wasn’t something meant to happen. Sun’s grieving, Lunar’s grieving and Monty is trying to figure out if they can help (while also grieving.) Lunar is obviously taking this pretty badly, he just killed his brother (in attempt to help but still) and stuck in Moon’s body. Triggering Sun and him everytime he looks in the Mirror. So he removes some of the accessories but nothing Altering the outfit permanently. That’s like a moon pin/barrette he put on the hat. Keeping the eyelights white (Moon in game can do that so. Yeah) Unfortunately, only Monty and Sun know Lunar is the only one left in moon’s body. No one knows Lunar, remember that. That’ll be brought up probably. Whether Lunar pretends to be Moon for other people is dependent. He technically was helping with the daycare in Moon’s place already. There’s also Lunar just knowing Sun technically blames him, thus pretending to talk to moon when he’s by himself. Sun obviously getting frustrated at Lunar, but think of hurt/comfort here. Sun knows Moon wouldn’t want them fighting about it, and Lunar is the only brother he has left now. They’re literally going through a lot, heck Bloodmoon (and Eclipse) is still around. They have the computer to technically help with things Moon did. Lunar is left with guilt having been the one to desperately do something with immense consequence of losing one of his brothers who actively cared for him and fear he'll lose the other, and Sun who's blaming Lunar but also feeling guilt cause he feels he could've at least TRIED to do something himself instead of running off to find someone and leaving both Lunar and Moon to fend for themselves. ANYWAY JUST. SUN AND LUNAR HANDLING DEATH OF THEIR BROTHER AND MORE OR LESS ACCEPTING THEY MAY HAVE LOST HIM FOR GOOD. Will there be a part 2 handling with Eclipse and Bloodmoon? and maybe Earth idk about earth here.

#sun and moon show #sams lunar #sams sun #all this just because i was trying to think how to make a evil lunar au and no. no i just get sad times #fnaf lunar #myart #moon dies au #yeah thats just easier to tag lol

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bradandchris · 9 months

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Well, that was that then. Brad had himself a New Years Resolution. His resolution was to not have a resolution for the year that was new in the moment where he was. That was on the beach in Santa Monica at the end of 2023.

While he was there staring into 2024, he was also giving up lent for lent, and trading in Columbus Day for an Akron knight. He would just need to convince Elton John to take a holiday to Ohio in October. It was a good thing leaves died pretty. He could use that to his advantage.

If that didn’t work out, Brad would try a different time of day. Akron Dawn for example could score an obvious sponsorship assuming people in Ohio did their dishes upon waking up. It sounded like something people in sensibly sized Midwest cities might do.

The notion never crossed his mind in Brad’s 22 years living in Los Angeles. Why would anyone born and bred in Southern California ground themselves where it could crack open and swallow you whole at any second? Midwestern sensibility just didn’t stack up here.

Akron was in Ohio right? Brad could never be sure even with a smart phone in his hand. Miss Information was everywhere and there were no places to hide. How would you know where to go anyway?

All the cities in Ohio looked exactly the same to Brad. You could be in Toledo or Cincinnati, and it wouldn’t make a lick of difference even if you were at the local library checking out books. As long as ‘Ohio’ was somewhere on your library card or drivers license, you were golden.

At least that’s what Brad imagined. The locals likely didn’t feel the same way.

On the eve of a change in one of many calendars used across the globe, Brad took a minute reflect upon what had yet to happen by asking questions in the present tense.

Did all the oceans in California look the same to people from Ohio? Those from the two bucks an eye state (post inflation), were human beings dealing with a relative relative spendy reality. That part was clear. The rest of it got fuzzy as he didn’t know anyone from Ohio he could ask.

Brad wasn’t sure how many oceans he was looking at in the first place. They all kinda mixed together with few if any official boundaries. To call the water in front of him by one name took it from Will Rogers in Cali all the way to Bondi in Australia, but it was hardly the same water. The whole thing read as a gross over generalization as everything Pacific.

Each day it was less and less surprising to Brad that more than 90% of the sea floor failed to be mapped. We as a species held not a clue as to what was down there yet some of us were already taking tours of outer space which was technically nothing itself. Was that not why we called it space?

Whatever.

Brad didn’t want to put too much into space tourism or an overrated holiday like NYE, or even Christmas for that matter…

Brad stopped himself there. If he took that thought any further he could start getting answers. That could take him into resolution territory where he resolved to not go yet already was.

The annual practice never played out well for Brad despite being out himself. While others made money Brad beat himself up. By the President’s Day circuit party he was always in a downward spiral. If Brad ever OD’d it would likely be there smack dab in the depths of the Southern California rainy season swallowed whole by the first round of judgement preliminaries for White Party in Palm Springs.

Seeing where he was, Brad pulled himself off the bitter party of one path to that of personal responsibility. No one besides himself stuck around any NYE resolution to ensure he followed through. It may be paid for but did it matter where the money came from? While the commitment was squarely his, it often turned out the enthusiasm was not.

Brad paused to fix the back of his swimmers. They began riding his youthful 22 year old butt muscles while doing all this thinking. Did he really workout every day just so his clothes could malfunction?

Maybe. He could def take the notion somewhere sexy. Too bad there wasn’t a pen and paper around. Was this why people wrote their name in the sand? That whole notion read downright silly standing so close to the world’s biggest eraser.

When all was said and done, the greatest part about having a perky butt wasn’t sex or attention. It was having a place to set things down where no pockets were available. Brad always offered the space to others where he could think enough to do so. Ironically, the last thing he wanted to be was an ass.

The notion spurred another thought. Brad would ask Chris to look for a date on his butt when he came back from the concession stand with lunch. All this male beauty comes with a shelf life apparently so his boyfriend should probably know when to stop eating it. To that, and out of respect for himself, he should probably check Chris’ butt too. Brad needed some action and the whole notion just brought forth was good enough to jumpstart a very fun afternoon.

These things only needed to be paper thin with two men in the equation. An impromptu hamster inspection of the men’s locker room at the local gay watering hole instigated a wild three way with Brad and Chris’s neighbor Luke just a few hours earlier. Unsurprisingly, not a single hamster turned up at the gym, but the whole debacle did put a new spin on wood shavings.

A rouge wave reached high enough to grab Brad’s attention and bring him back to the present tense. Brad looked at his phone but he didn’t have any gauge as to when he and his thinking drifted off. Well, at least he came around this time with his swimmers still on. He lost two pair just in the last 24 hours.

Now where was Chris with the food? Brad was craving curly fries and a big fat dill pickle.

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venusofthehardsells · 2 years

Text

Written in Blood [one-shot]

Avenger!witch!ReaderxBucky, avenger!witch!Readerxdemon!Bucky

Summary: When an alien army attacks the Earth, you make a last ditch effort to save the planet, even if it means losing everything you love.

(Reader’s Avenger-name is Hecate)

Warnings: all the angst, violence, blood, major character death, smut, non-con, dub-con, monsterfucking technically I guess?, fingering, p in v, Supernatural elements (yes, that Supernatural), end of the world, swearing (ofc), magic, possession, lots of bad things happen

A/N: It is STILL October in some timezones so here is this fic I wanted to finish like two years ago. Happy fucking Halloween!

Huge thank you to @awesomerextyphoon and @sagechanoafterdark for cheering me on, it means everything! ♥

The rancid ashen air lies heavy in your nose and makes your eyes water. It is almost enough to blur the wall in front of you, but you blink the tears away with an angry sniffle and raise your bloodied fingers to finish writing the spell.

All around you, the city is on fire.

Screams and cries ring out from the burning high-rises in between metallic sounds of fighting. Crashes, gunfire. Voices blast your ears through your com, shouting for back-up, shouting for their lives. It'll be too late for most of them by the time you can reach them.

On the edge of your vision, a flash of blue, white and red lies abandoned in the rubble of the building that fell on you less than an hour earlier. You would have been under all those bricks if it hadn't been for him...

You have to stop and let the sobs wash over you.

Steve died trying to save you because you were out of your mind with grief and didn't react to the blast fast enough. It's your fault.

His shield is all that remains.

Gritting your teeth against the pain in your leg from where the blood you're writing with is coming from, you smear the next part of the spell as clearly as you can manage onto the raw concrete of the upturned wall.

Your intent and will is worth just as much as the signs you draw, every witch worth her salt knows that, but still you make an effort to get each line as cleanly drawn as possible.

The magic you're working is a different kind than the one Strange uses. It's ancient and feral and bought with blood.

It's not something he would approve of.

When he put you in charge of this point of attack, it was because he was out of options. You know he would have prefered Loki, but none of the Asgardians could be contacted and you wonder again that day if their world too has suffered this very doom somewhere all those light years away.

Strange had left you to deal with New York while he went to Singapore and Wanda to Wakanda, where the fighting was worst.

Right now though, you can't imagine anywhere worse.

"Hecate!," Stark's voice yells on the com, using your Avenger alias. "I need a status, now! Hecate! Answer me!"

But you don't, can't let him know what you're doing.

"Y/N, god dammit, please tell me you're not dead!"

But you are. As good as, anyway.

Ignoring Stark's pleading for you to answer, you press your fingers into your wound again with a groan, but it's no use, it's not deep enough to grant you any more paint and you need to get a few more lines of formalia down.

You unsheathe the knife you have fastened to your inner thigh and kiss the blade swiftly before bringing it down on your arm. It's the last knife you have left on you and it's the sharpest. Of course it is.

It's Bucky's.

As the fresh cut starts gushing, you have to wipe away more tears.

Four hours ago, one of the alien invaders caught Bucky in the neck with its talon-like fingers and you heard him gurgle and choke over the com as he went down. Stark had managed to pluck you from the scene when you started screaming.

A few seconds later, all Bucky's life readings from his suit had hit zero.

It had been too dangerous to go back for the body.

You clench your eyes shut.

There's no winning this war.

With fingers red from your newly opened vein, you draw the last symbols of your spell.

Your summoning.

It fills the entire chunk of concrete. As soon as you're done, you wrap a scrap of your sleeve around your arm to stop the flow; you feel dizzy on your feet and you’re slightly panting, leaning on the remains of a bench. Or at least, you assume it’s a bench.

Even without the bloodloss and the heartbreak, you’ve been knocked and kicked and beaten around since long before dawn. Now, it’s nearly dusk. The only thing keeping you on your feet is the sheer desperation that has also brought you to conjure up this dark, nasty magic. The last resort.

"Parker, Romanoff, someone give me a twenty on Hecate! I think her com's broken."

Still not answering, you begin chanting. The language is old, long forgotten to the world and it fills your mouth heavy as a stone when the words form and tumble into the air; it's almost a living thing.

It's as if the summoning wants to happen.

You've always stayed clear of this particular sort of magic, as all the cleverest and most long-lived of your foremothers did, but none of them were about to lose the entire planet. In the grander scheme of things, your trespass doesn't look unreasonable.

"Mr Stark, sir, I can see Y/N. She's… it looks like she's talking to someone."

"Where are you, kid? I'm heading your way. Does she look injured?"

"I- I don't know what I'm seeing… Holy shit, that's… there's so much blood, Mr Stark. I don't know what she's- How..."

As Peter starts to realize you must be doing magic of some sort, it seems to dawn on Tony Stark as well.

"Fuck. Strange warned me she'd do something dangerous. Kid, whatever you do, you gotta stop her!"

Poor Peter. There's no way he'll get through the protective shield you cast around you so you could conjure undisturbed and neither is anyone else, at least for now.

The last line in the conjuring spell rolls off your tongue and it is as if it all goes quiet around you. The very air seems to hold its breath, waiting…

Somewhere far away, you think you hear something crash into the magical barrier surrounding you, but maybe it's just your heartbeat throbbing in your ears.

It has to work. It has to. If no one shows, if your spell didn't reach out, down, then…

Then you don't think you can bear another second in this wasteland that was once a city.

The moments crawl by and you wait. There's nothing else to do anymore, is there?

Waiting, listening, praying. But then again, if praying did any good, you wouldn't be here.

"Now this is a pleasant surprise," a voice speaks up behind you and you can feel the blood turn to ice in your veins.

That voice, it can't be.

He's dead, you saw him die.

Very slowly, as if trying to delay the inevitable, you turn around to glance at what your efforts have brought forth.

No.

It's Bucky.

Or rather, it is a demon wearing Bucky's flesh. There's more left of your super soldier than you had dared to hope for, but the way the demon moves his legs and his arms and the way it crooks his head looking at you through eyes filled with empty blackness makes it clear that the most vital part must be gone.

He, it, smiles with the mouth of the man you love and you can feel the tears rise anew in your tired eyes.

You knew it would be bad, but this…

"Get out of him," you whisper, your throat clinging thickly to the words.

The thing inside Bucky's body grins and blood trickles out through his parted lips, fresh red against the dried black on his chin and neck.

"Don't think so, dollface. It's not every day you get a call like this. Had to make an impression."

The voice, oh god, there's something in the voice you know so well seeping through from the demon using it to speak and it makes your stomach churn. It was only yesterday that same sweet voice told you that Bucky Barnes loved you, but hearing it now is a nightmare.

The demon leans on the other end of the destroyed bench you're using to keep yourself upright, biting its lower lip.

"I have to say, I couldn't believe my luck when you called. An Avenger." It whistles, letting its black eyes roam over your dirty, bruised form. "We make deals with celebrities and politicians all the time, but you! You're supposed to be beyond reproach, all of you. Untouchable. When I heard your summoning, I had to come myself. Someone like you deserves a more… personal treatment."

It reaches out and lets Bucky's fingers brush your cheek in a loving gesture that almost makes you gag.

In a brief moment, you manage to see past the face of your dead lover and look upon the being’s true face. It’s not just an ordinary demon. It’s the face of the Devil.

"You're quite the legend downstairs, you know," he says softly, stroking the tears and grime from under your eye with a dark metal thumb. "A lineage blood witch so powerful, working with SHIELD's leashed heroes to save the world… Failing, obviously." The smirk on his face is so wide and so vile you can't imagine Bucky ever producing that expression himself. "We're still baffled they didn't kill you as soon as they found you. Of course, you have played your big, brilliant savior-role splendidly. I almost shed a tear when you took that bullet for Lang's daughter. Oscar-worthy, truly."

"You really like to hear yourself talk, don't you?," you grit out. It's a struggle not to recoil from its touch.

The smirk grows impossibly wider.

"Can you blame me, sweetheart? I haven't worn a human in centuries. I'd almost forgotten how it feels."

He rolls Bucky's shoulders the way one might do trying on a new jacket.

"And this one is interesting. Technology these days." He chuckles, inspecting the metal arm and, mercifully, removing its fingers from you to have a closer look at them. "It's marvelous. Makes up for how dark it is in this grapefruit of his. This one doesn't need to go to Hell, he's practically there already. I feel right at home."

He chuckles, but it's like watching a wax figure coming to life and trying to act like the person whose image it was sculpted in. You have never seen or felt anything remotely as uncanny before.

You need to send the Devil back to Hell right now while he still hasn't hurt anyone.

"If you won't get out, I'll force you."

"Oh, please." The way the Devil smiles is overbearing. "Right now, I'm the only thing keeping lover boy ticking. Without me, he's just a dead meatsuit."

It feels like your lungs have been vacuumed.

"What?"

"You heard me."

"It can't be."

"Is too. Your precious Bucky is still in here. Not being very generous about sharing this body, I might add. The ungrateful bastard is screaming himself hoarse trying to get me to leave-"

"No!"

His smirk grows into another grin at your outburst and you both know he's got you exactly where he wants you.

"Thought not. As delightful as this back and forth threatening is, how about we cut to the chase? You don't exorcize me, I don't let your boyfriend bleed out. Instead, why don't you tell me what it is you want, hmm?"

The way your stomach rolls with pain has nothing to do with the hits you've taken in the fight so far.

"I want to make a deal." Your voice is only just audible over the wind, but Bucky's face lights up with malicious barely contained glee; he heard you loud and clear.

"Go on," he prompts, licking his lips.

"I…" The air in your shriveled lungs fails you, so you try again. "I want Bucky and Steve back, I want all of them back, I… want all of this to never happen."

And you are willing to do anything for it apparently.

But for the first time, he shakes his head.

"Oh, honey. Now why would I do that?"

"What?," you breathe, disbelief written all over your face.

"Think about it. How many people have died in the last twenty four hours alone? Business is flourishing. The souls are teeming into Hell and at this rate it won't stop any time soon. It's better than the damn Apocalypse! I don't wanna undo all of this."

Every instinct you have is screaming at you to send him back to Hell, but it is as though all the fight has gone out of you at the refusal. You were ready to offer anything in return, had prepared for it and now the damn thing won’t deal?

It’s the end of the world and you’re out of moves.

The end of the world…

The Apocalypse…

The thought strikes you so hard and so fast you almost think it’s a bullet.

“This isn’t the endgame you want,” you hear yourself say with far more conviction than you feel.

The Devil cocks his head, amusement trembling on his lips.

“Really?”

“People are dying-”

“Do you really think I care-”

“People are dying,” you maintain firmly, “and their souls go up or they go down, until they don’t. This isn’t an invasion, it’s an extermination.”. Bucky’s black eyes are burning into you, but you continue. “These invaders don’t plan on leaving anyone alive. It might take weeks or months even, but at some point, they’ll have killed every human on the planet and there’ll be no more souls for you to harvest. Ever. Your Apocalypse won’t even be able to happen because there’ll be nothing left for any of you to fight for. You’ll be rotting in the pit for eternity. How’s that for business, honey?”

Bucky’s features scrunch into a snarl and he janks you to him by your jaw. His fingers dig into your skin hard enough to bruise.

“I should snap Barnes’ beautiful little neck for good, you insolent-”

“Doesn’t change the fact that I’m right.”

“You’re too clever for your own good, sugar,” he hisses, holding you close enough to feel his breath on your face. “But you’re forgetting something. I’m not the only one up here dealing right now.”

Fuck.

Shit.

“Twenty six of my employees are up here as we speak, looking to close deals themselves. They are only waiting for me to give them the green light and those twenty-six other desperate humans, well, let’s just say… they’re not all as clever as you.”

He clenches your jaw again and you wince in pain.

If someone makes a demon deal on this scale, you can’t even begin to think of the consequences it will have if they don’t fully understand what they’re doing. And best case scenario still includes someone innocent signing over their soul.

“Fine. Get your minions in line and we’ll deal.”

“Atta girl.” Bucky’s metal arm goes around your shoulders and forces you to sit down on the charred remains of the bench seat. The close proximity, the way your body is now pressed against his makes you feel sick. “So, what do you think we can do for each other?”

"I want the world back the way it was before-"

"Yes, before the alien horde attacked it. You've said that already. Don't bore me, sweet cheeks," he warns and a shiver creeps through you. "How do you even know I have that kind of power, hm?"

"Don't you?"

“Depends on what I’m being offered,” he drawls and your skin runs cold. “I believe you know how this usually goes. One wish for one soul, collected ten years down the road. If that’s what you’re hoping for, I might as well leave it to my employees and call it a day.”

He trails Bucky’s vibranium fingers down the back of your neck, making goosebumps rise in their wake and you close your eyes as hard as you can to focus on thinking, not vomiting.

“You can have me.” The scene of the building falling on Steve keeps replaying itself in your mind’s eye over and over in a vicious loop, prompting you to force out the words. “My soul isn’t just any other soul. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here.”

“Arrogant. But correct.”

“And I don’t need ten years, just one.” The knot in your stomach feels as though it has moved up into your throat and it hurts to speak around it.

“Why should I give you as much as a day? You’re not exactly asking for pennies, sugar. The magic you want from me is off the charts. You should consider yourself lucky I don’t deep-fry you for even suggesting it.”

He enjoys every word he speaks out of Bucky’s mouth the way one might a sip of Champagne. But you have to endure his teasing, otherwise… there is no otherwise.

Clenching your fists, you turn and meet his blacked out eyes.

“I’m the only Avenger you’ll ever get and you know it. Every one of them is ready to repent and I have it on good authority they’re quite large upstairs with whom they accept these days. The Asguardians have their own deal. Wanda Maximoff is probably going to outlive you. Strange too. And if you had Steve…” The firmness in your voice wobbles and your eyes grow hot with tears. “If you had Steve you would be rubbing it in my face,” you finish in a quieter tone. Bucky cocks his head with a smirk.

“Yes, I most certainly would.”

“So I’m all there is,” you maintain stubbornly, forcing yourself not to cry outright. "My soul and any future soul headed your way. A new possible eternity to gear up for your pissing contest with the halo crew. All I ask in return is a year. This year, the one we've just had."

"Interesting." He studies your face with a mix of triumph and amused apprehension. He's close. So close in fact that you can feel his breath on your lips and smell the dried blood in his mouth. "You do realize that proper wording is everything?"

"I do." You have to swallow hard not to gag or cry or maybe outright scream. This is the only play you have. If he doesn't agree, no one else is going to save you, save everyone. "My soul for a one year reset. Do we have a deal?"

He licks his lips slowly in thought, blacked out eyes never leaving yours.

“Not so fast, cherry pie. Your soul for another year still leads to this place, this moment. Earth overrun by an alien army and no more business for little old me. If you’re just trying to trick me into giving you more naked tumbling time with your soldier boys-”

“I am trying to save the world! And you’re how I’m going to do it, so unless one of those twenty-six other random idiots miraculously have a better offer for you, I suggest you take it.”

When you finally realize you’re shouting at the Devil, it’s too late. The familiar metal fingers are around your throat before you can even think to say you’re sorry and they’re squeezing so hard you’re sure you’ve used up his patience. It’s not like he’s known for it.

“You witches always were a bunch of condescending whores,” he hisses. It’s so quiet you can only hear him because his teeth are practically scraping your cheeks with the words. “I’ll take your sorry little deal, baby. And I’ll make sure your dear Jamie gets to watch and feel every single second of it. Give him a little taste of what’s waiting for you when it’s all over. A dreamy dose of nightmare fuel to top off the horror show in this melon.”

With the hand that’s still flesh and bone, he tears at your fitted tactical suit, easily ripping it open and exposing you to his gaze. Shame burns in your cheeks. You knew it would go this way, but for it to have to be Bucky…

He starts to peel off pieces of your torn suit until you’re bared in front of him. You’ve done rituals and sex spells before, shedding clothes is nothing new. But having them ripped from your body by the Devil wearing your lover with one hand while he chokes you with the other makes you feel naked in an entirely different way.

Normally when Bucky rips your clothes off, it makes you feel desired and sexy and powerful. This is… so far from that. It's cold and it's ugly. It makes you want to push him away with everything in your arsenal, your muscles, your magic, shit, you're ready to claw his face bloody with your fingernails, but you don't.

You just stay where you are and let him throw you to the ground, asphalt and tiles beneath the debris biting into the skin and bruises on your back.

Trying not to cry, because if you start there is no way you can stop.

The body lowering itself onto yours is at the same time familiar and foreign to you. As he starts to undo his belt and zipper of the tactical suit, you allow yourself for just a moment to imagine that it is Bucky, your Bucky. And that everything will be fine again.

But then his mismatched hands glide over your hips, squeezing far harder than Bucky ever would, and there is no way you can keep imagining it's really him, no way you want to.

Bucky didn't consent to this.

Because of what you've done, he is once again a prisoner in his own mind and even though he won't remember this, despite what the Devil said to rattle you, that is no excuse. He is being used all over again for something that Bucky himself would never allow. To make a deal with the Devil, to conjure dark magic… to hurt you. It has got to be his worst nightmare made real, all over again.

All because you were careless and desperate.

I'm sorry, my love, you think, closing your eyes.

This was meant to be your sacrifice and yours alone.

Bucky's body feels a thousand times heavier upon your own than it usually is, but you know it has to be that way, otherwise the last shred of your conscience would crumble completely. This has to hurt you too.

His warm hand slips in between your legs and his smirk is right above your face, dripping hot blood into your eyes.

"Think you can give me a little something to work with, honey?," he grins and drags his fingers through your folds, making you squirm to get away before you can stop yourself. "You know we both gotta commit here."

You grit your teeth and force yourself to lie still. The fingers you know so well start to circle your clit, but it takes forever before you feel anything but discomfort - little threads of warmth, only the beginnings of something pleasurable - and at that point, your little nub is too sore from the pressure for it to do much.

"Tough customer, huh," he smirks, clearly enjoying your helplessness. "Don't worry, I'll get you there, sweetheart. I've got everything I need in here, inside Barnes' pretty head…"

That may be so, but you can feel the difference because this isn't Bucky, not really. He kisses you roughly on the mouth. It's a struggle not to gag, but accept his tongue and let him explore. He tastes of dirt and blood and magic. He takes his time.

His fingers begin working between your legs again, slower this time, in a motion that forces a surprised little gasp out of you. He slides one thick finger in between your lips, barely dipping into you at first, just stroking your folds languidly and occasionally massaging your clit again with much gentler motions than first.

The way Bucky would do it.

The first time your legs tremble around his hand, he smirks and moves his kisses to the side of your neck.

“Knew you’d warm up to me, sugar,” he grins, licking up the underside of your jaw. “Just imagine it’s really me… doll.”

You can't help it, you let out a tiny whimper against his ear and it's not all pain anymore. You know better than this, but fuck, he's using that voice, the deep, gravelly one that goes straight to your core so much faster and more effective than his fingers.

And even though it’s wrong, you’ve made your choice. You made it the second you started writing the summoning spell.

So in the end, you lean your head back on the ground and close your eyes, let him work you over until you can’t hold back the moans any longer. They spill out of you as Bucky’s fingers rub your clit in faster and faster circles, his other hand holding you down because your hips are shaking and bucking away from the onslaught of pleasure his touch evokes, more and more, there is no way your body can take it…

The pleasure peaks and sparks through your veins. It feels awful. It feels delicious.

All your aching muscles pulse with the orgasm and he doesn’t stop to let you come down, no, instead he plunges two fingers into you and continues to rub your clit with his thumb while he searches for the spot inside of you that immediately makes you cry out when he touches it.

“There we go, doll, you can give me one more.”

Smirking, even with your eyes closed you know he has to be smirking at the way your body reacts to him.

And you do give him one more. His fingers stroke and rub your sweet spot expertly while the rough pad of his thumb keeps pressure on your clit just the way Bucky always does when he wants to keep you strung high on pleasure and it works. Another orgasm crashes into the ebb of the former and makes you wail into his long, dirty hair. He keeps you locked in place even when you jolt in his hold, thrashing almost because it's too much, it feels too good, you're burning up from all the places his hand is touching you.

You whimper as he withdraws his fingers, soaked in your glistening wetness but he doesn't leave you wanting for very long.

He starts unbuckling his tactical belt and it falls to the ground with a clank. His pants follow shortly and you’re still shaking, still too overwhelmed in the afterglow of your sweet Bucky’s fingers as he takes out his cock and slides it through your slick folds with a grin on those bloodied lips.

“Deal’s on, baby,” he whispers and the sting of his teeth drawing blood from your earlobe disappears when he buries his cock within your walls in one, smooth thrust.

Your eyes roll back into your head and inside your fitted combat boots you curl your toes at the feeling. Your mouth falls open in a gasp of pitiful ecstasy.

Somewhere in the haze of pain and adrenaline and grief and serotonin and the primal fear of dying, your mind still knows this is wrong and that you should be utterly revolted by what the two of you are doing with Bucky’s body, but you just can’t.

The warmth of your lover’s familiar form is a balm on your heart that you don’t deserve, but you welcome it anyway. The salty taste of your tears of pleasure overshadows the bitter tang of blood. He groans in your ear.

Every thrust of his hips feel like home.

You almost cry out his name, it feels so good, but you bite down the instinct at the last second. Instead you close your eyes and try to lose yourself in the wild rhythm of your joined bodies that has you clinging onto him for dear life. The pace is brutal. You never expected otherwise.

And soon enough, the heat is blazing up in you again, making you groan, making you squeeze down on him.

“Oh God, fuck… fuck…,” you whimper, digging your nails into his shoulders and Bucky’s laugh that you know so well washes over you.

“God doesn’t care, dollface,” he grins, leaning back just enough to get the metal hand in between you and rub his thumb on your clit, “just be glad that I do.”

He moves his hips faster, pinning you down by the hips with the hand not between your legs and this time you do scream.

As your body finally succumbs to the pleasure, you throw your head back and wail into the darkness around you. It reverberates through both of you, through the ground and your shield and the slab of stone covered in your bloody summons. You writhe and thrash in his grip under the wave of the orgasm crashing through you, wanting it to be over, wanting it to go on forever.

And with a sound somewhere between a broken moan and a winded, manic laugh, the demon on top of you at last spills his cum inside of you to seal the magical contract.

He doesn’t stop moving until your cunt has milked every drop from him, your soft silken walls pulsing with the climax long after he’s done.

You want to lie there and bask in the afterglow until your shielding spell fails, pretending just a while longer that you’re lying in Bucky’s loving arms while you wait for the inevitable end of everything.

Every little piece of you wants it.

The tears that roll down your grimy cheeks now are cold.

The ground is getting harder under your stiff back and you can feel the chill quickly settling in your bones.

“Well, that was certainly worth my time.” You grit your teeth against the sight of Bucky’s blacked out eyes so close to yours and steel yourself as much as you can.

He softly strokes your cheek and makes a show of pulling out of you slowly, kissing you sweetly on your stubbornly shut lips the way the real Bucky would have done.

It’s a struggle not to wince but somehow you manage to lie there and let his antics wash over you without blinking. As soon as he steps away from you though, you’re off the ground and covering yourself up the best you can with what’s left of your torn tactical suit.

He zips himself back into the confines of his pants completely unhurried.

“So…” He stretches both arms leisurely above his head, looking you over. It would make your skin crawl if you had the time to really think about it but you don’t let yourself think at all. There’s no room for anything but what you’re about to do.

“So what?,” you shoot back mirthlessly. “We have a deal. Now deliver.”

“Your bedside manners are terrible, did loverboy here ever tell you that?”

The inside of your cheek breaks between your teeth as you hold back a furious retort.

“Don’t worry sugarplum, I am going to work my magic and make all of this nastiness go away.” He twirls on the spot, savoring the wreckage of New York around him. “But I am still curious. What are you going to do with your year, hm?”

It’s still difficult to look at him and not see Bucky. Your heart aches in your chest like a wound when the thought strikes you that this is the last time you’re going to see him and it isn’t even really him. Just the devil wearing his body. A body you just helped defile.

But you still manage to meet his eyes.

“I’m going to cast a spell. Turn those aliens into fucking dust before they even set eyes on this planet.”

You can feel the world slowly starting to change around you as you speak. It’s like a wet painting left outside in the rain, colors dripping down the canvas until the motive is all blurry shapes and splotches of acrylics.

Time is crawling backwards outside of your protective circle.

Bucky’s mouth twitches.

“You are very powerful, no doubt about that. But one spell against an army? You’re not exactly The Scarlet Witch, babycakes. Did a roll in the hay with little old me incite such illusions of grandeur in that lovely little head of yours?”

“Nimue’s Hand,” you bite and in less than a second Bucky’s features shift into a mask of rage. It’s almost satisfying when his fingers close around your throat and squeeze.

“You fucking whore!”, he yells into your face, slamming you against the concrete wall still bloodied from your summoning spell. “You filthy, cheating little… witch.”

And despite the fact that you can hardly breathe, that your vision is going fuzzy at the edges and a fresh pain is swelling in the back of your head, you grin at him.

“That’s right. You know that spell, don’t you?”

You don’t have to ask. Of course he knows.

Nimue’s Hand is an ancient spell of pure annihilation. No one has ever cast it before, otherwise… the world would know it. It has been passed down through the generations of witches as far back as the line has existed, whispered from mother to daughter for hundreds of years, probably even longer.

It is a morsel of forbidden knowledge that despite everything has managed to stay a secret lurking in the very depths of every witch’s consciousness, never spoken aloud, never used.

Until now.

The spell is so powerful that casting it will rip your very soul to shreds and scatter them among the stars. You are never going to find rest but it’s a cost you’re willing to pay.

A last resort.

Bucky roars and lets go of you, punching the wall next to your head so hard the whole thing disintegrates. But that is all he can do.

You have a deal.

He never said an intact soul. And af all, proper wording is everything.

It’s your turn to laugh. Wheezing and coughing, you can’t help it. At this point, it is all you really have to laugh about.

The world is coming into view around you again. You’re no longer wearing the tactical gear from the battle but instead the dress you were wearing a year ago is materializing on your skin. Bucky’s wounds are healing, the blood is disappearing and his suit is changing into running shorts and a white T-shirt. Together with his black eyes and the way he snarls and yells in fury, it looks almost comical.

You can’t dwell on it though.

You’re on a clock now.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” you manage to get out as you brush the concrete dust off your arms. “I’ll see you in a year.”

He grips your upper arm so tightly you know it’s going to bruise but you can’t care about that now. Slowly he leans in and traces a finger down the side of your face with the flesh hand, pure and utter hatred seeping from his every pore.

“Oh, I’ll see you, Y/N. I’m going to stick every last piece of that splintered soul I’m owed back together, no matter how long it takes and when I do… well…”

His nail cuts into the skin on your jaw, making you wince despite yourself.

“I’m not going to be as sweet as Jamie here.”

You try not to shudder as he lets go of you and turns to leave. You allow yourself to see him walk away and the exact moment the devil leaves Bucky’s body is obvious.

He stops in the middle of what is no longer a burned out crater, but instead an almost empty street in the early afternoon, and looks around a bit disoriented.

Fresh tears prickle at your eyes and you can feel your heart nearly coming to a stop in your chest.

This is the day you first met. In a few moments he is going to turn around and see you, ask you for directions because he got lost in his own head for a bit and must have turned down the wrong street. His slightly embarrassed little smile as he said it…

The second before he spots you, you turn around and walk away, leaving him behind.

Fists clenched, vision blurred.

Angrily, you wipe at your eyes, ignoring how easy it would be to turn back and still bump into him, to get that wonderful year with him and Steve again.

You can’t think like that.

It takes a lot of effort to prepare your soul for the casting of your spell and after all, you did make a deal. You need to focus.

Your time is already running out.

#bucky barnes x reader #demon!bucky x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction

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