#can’t think more brain cells are fried

[everafall]

canon-compliant gi. sumeru trio x deity!f!reader.

this idea derived from another idea i had about the sumeru trio. reader’s a spirit of sorts, like the aranara and jinn and perhaps hermanubis, who was an important ally of the god-kings until the cataclysm. throughout five centuries, she has been trying to find ways to free nahida, therefore developing deep hatred for the sages.

reader’s naturally friends with candace as she’s deshret’s descendant, helping her out with the protection of aaru village. to an extent, she became friends with dehya, who encouraged the traveler duo, cyno, and alhaitham to gain her trust so she can warm up to them. although adamant, she was able to get along with the traveler duo just fine, but cyno and alhaitham left a bad first impression on her. (cyno has a divine spirit and reader knew who it was, and alhaitham’s being a smartass.)

alright, enough backstory. that’s gonna be condensed throughout the hcs lol. she and the sumeru trio developed romantic (and carnal) feelings for each other.

dehya: sleeps around when she’s stressed from work; favorite part is using the strap, which she plans to use on reader.

cyno: his divine spirit pops out; grows feral; claws and fangs are ON during sex, which might be the most painful shit reader’s gonna endure.

alhaitham: claims not to be interested in deities but is interested in reader; there’s a lot more to him than meets the eye which reader finds… uh, attractive?

#♥︎ .concepts #genshin impact #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #alhaitham x reader #cyno x reader #dehya x reader #dehya with strap ons #no actually just women with strap ons #got a wet dream about that days ago LMFAO #finally female smut soon clap for me #oh cyno and alhaitham are here too #can’t think more brain cells are fried #just know that i will go ham on dehya’s part #strap on sex 🛐

[anthurak]

Little detail I really like:

It seems like Vox, at least when his brain-cells aren’t being fried by his raging hate-boner for Alastor, REALLY doesn’t want to pick a fight with Charlie. As in, when Valentino wanted to go and shoot up the hotel himself, Vox isn’t just angry, he’s angry in a clear ‘I am SCARED and trying to cover that up by getting mad’ way.

And remember that this was BEFORE Vox learned that Alastor was also at the Hotel, so it’s pretty clear that it is specifically CHARLIE that Vox wants to avoid direct conflict with.

Now sure, this could be an ‘image’ thing that Vox is worried about, but also remember that Charlie is NOT taken seriously by most of Hell’s population. So I think this is really more Vox being worried about the direct consequences of Valentino picking a fight with Charlie.

I have a hunch this is going to be something of a trend and build-up this season, ie; Charlie continually avoiding or being avoided by direct conflict. Always leaving actual fights up to Vaggie or Alastor. Until we finally reach a point where Charlie can’t or won’t avoid a true FIGHT with someone. Maybe Valentino. Probably Adam.

And we finally see Charlie CUT LOOSE.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin spoilers #hazbin hotel spoilers #earlyaccesshh #hazbin vox #hazbin valentino #charlie morningstar

[avatarmerida]

I don’t have enough brain cells to do more with this idea but I always think about how in a panel they once joked about Hunter getting his drivers license in the human realm and idk if that’s secretly canon or a scrapped idea or a joke but I don’t care because I’m obsessed with the idea of a Camila teaching him how to drive and how he defiantly drives the exact speed limit at all times and overly checks his mirrors.

And then he gets his license and Willow has permanent shotgun and he looks at her looking out the window under the guise of checking his mirror but she’s almost like a dog the way she loves to stick her head out the window and feel the wind in her hair. She takes it out of her braids so her won’t lose her hair tie and Hunter is like 😳

And Gus in exchange for allowing Willow front seat not only had the whole backseat to himself but he’s in charge of music. They have special aux cord for Luz’s old iPod and they jam out to like Simple Plan and Avril but Hunter is a pro at not being distracted because he takes safety very seriously. But he loves to hear Willow and Gus try to guess the words as they still sing along at the top of their lungs.

And like at every stop light when a care pulls up next to them, Gus is like “Hunter, you gotta race them!” And Hunter of course is like “No.” and then Gus starts chanting and Willow joins in and he considers for a brief moment but of course he can’t betray Camila’s trust so he doesn’t give in. Willow and Gus still treat it like he’s racing, cheering at every car he passes.

They def always ask to go the drive thru and he’s a very big “we’ve got food at home” person but then always ends up turning into the parking lot as a surprise. Can you just imagine Hunter ordering off the dollar menu and treating like a big mission while Gus is in the back trying to decide what to get because he loves human food so much and there just so many choices? And then since Hunter is a very strict “hands on the wheel at all time” dude, Willow feeds him his fries so he can focus on driving. At one point she offers him a sip of her soda and if he wasn’t operating a vehicle he would pass away at the idea that his lips have been where hers have been.

Then at some point they’re driving home and car in front of them stops suddenly and Hunter hits the break, sending them all flying forward. They’re safe, always having their seatbelts on but instinctively, Hubter reaches out his arm in front of Willow as though to help stop her. But when he does, the placement of his arm is rather… compromising 😉 and Hunter freaks out and starts apologizing but Willow assures him it’s okay and Gus breaks the tension by blasting another song.

Also maybe he wears his Cosmic Frontier costume in his license photo because it’s an important document and he wants to look his best.

#toh #Hunter toh #Willow park #Gus Porter #huntlow #the owl house

[edelweissbarnes]

• Sunshine and a little bit of hurricane •

Bucky Barnes x supersoldierF!reader Edelweiss (OFC)

A therapy session can change the perception of oneself? (Angst, mention of torture, mention of su!cide, bad self talk and bad self image, fluff)

Dr Reynor’ studio is neat and tidy, the giant picture of a forest, on the wall behind the sofa you’re sitting on, is placed to soothe the frustration of being closed between four walls. You watch the rain fall incessantly outside on the not so busy streets of Brooklyn Heights, the gentle pit pat against the glass is relaxing but the brisk click of your therapist’s pen brings you back to reality. You look at her and let out an exasperated sigh.

“You don’t talk, I write, remember?” She murmurs looking at you.

You exhale and you lower your gaze to your hands.

“since we talked about the tub, my nightmares got worse.” Your tone is more harsher than you wanted to, but it’s difficult to hide your frustration to not be able to sleep peacefully with your boyfriend. It’s a strange thing but you feel like you have a rock in your chest, a weight that makes it difficult for you to breathe, let alone sleep.

“Do you want to talk about what happens in your nightmares?” She asks, her tone is calm and even motherly.

“I’d prefer not to but I’m sure you’d be pushing it by telling me something like ‘talking about it makes it easier to move on’… easier my ass…” you reply bitterly before getting up from the sofa and nearing the window. “ there’s only one thing that I know for sure: I don’t want to feel ever again the way I felt back there…” You whisper looking outside.

“If you’re not ready to talk about your nightmares I’ll wait…it’s ok, Y/N.” Dr Reynor replies gingerly, like she’s talking to some scared animal.

“None of this is fucking ok…” you bite back. “ being here is not ok, what happened to me is not ok, what I became is not ok. They broke me and I’ll never be fixed” you can’t help the bitterness in your tone.

“What makes you think that you need to be fixed?” She asks quietly, you can feel her eyes on you.

You chuckle and you turn to look at her “ can’t you see?” You gesture to yourself with a scoff.

She smiles at you “ you’re not the darkness you endured. You are the light that refused to surrender. You’re a survivor Y/N, but you don’t need to be fixed. you need to understand the person you are now and you need to remember that you’re not alone. You have James…and now even the Avenger’s crew” her words hit you hard, even if it’s difficult for you to really believe them.

You turn again to look outside “ after the tub, they couldn’t wipe me because doing both would had been too much for my already fried brain. That’s when I had some glimpse of my memories…fragments…I remember lying on the bed into my cell and even if I was exhausted I couldn’t sleep or even breathe sometimes…. Everything in that cell remembered me of James… every bloody time they left us alone, every kiss, every scar or bruise that we left on each other…we were so emotion starved that sometimes even pain was ok…just because it made us feel something…and the fact that he was gone without me was overwhelming” you murmur quietly closing you eyes, your memories so vivid.

“back there I thought several times about what it would be like if I killed myself...if he would miss me...would he cry?…but then the thought that he was gone and he left me there got me like’ why should he care?’ Why should I care?” You pause “ you know that he wants to propose? Did he tell you? I found the ring hidden in our closet…” you chuckle bitterly. “If he thinks that he was fucked up, when he was the winter soldier, he must reconsider because I got worse…really worse…In that cell I shutted down, I went completely numb…and every time they got me out for some mission it was always a bloodbath ….the more gruesome, the better…they wanted a killer machine? I obliged them…sometimes even enjoyed the killing…” you confess, your tone heavier then before, shame and disgust easily recognizable. “How can he desire to marry a damaged good like me?” You whisper just before the timer rings gently reminding you that your time is up.

“Don’t mind showing me the exit…I know the way…” you murmur pushing both your hands in your leather jacket’s pocket before moving toward the open door, as you are her last patient of the day and the two of you are the only ones left in the building.

She stands from her seat “You’re not damaged good, Y/N. What you did back there was a survival behavior. None here can judge you for that…. We’ll talk about that next time” she murmurs calm without trying to stop you.

Once outside the building you turn up your face to look at the cloudy sky, it’s raining heavier than when you get here. The chime of your phone claims your attention and when you take it out of your pocket you notice a message from Natasha.

“ mission alert. Meet me at the tower. Hill’s office in 30.”

“Copy. I’m on my way” you reply before getting your hood up and stepping into the rain. You make just a couple of steps before your vision goes black and you collapse on the sidewalk.

When you open your eyes, the white light on the ceiling is blinding you and you let out an annoyed whimper before you squint and turn your head to the side trying to evade that annoyance. Your head is pounding and you feel disoriented.

“She’s awake” you hear a feminine voice whisper gently.

“Thanks God…love, I’m here…” The voice of your boyfriend is low, you can feel the relief in his tone and finally you open your eyes to look at him.

“Where…where am I? What happened?…” you pause for a moment “ my head hurts so bad…” you murmur quietly trying to sit in the bed.

“We’re at the tower, at the medical bay…you went to you therapy session with dr Reynor…you had to meet with Tasha a couple hours ago…when you didn’t show up she alerted me and then dr Reynor called, telling me she found you collapsed on the sidewalk outside her studio…you scared the shit out me, doll” he explains while his hand caress lightly your face. You sigh loudly before slumping against the pillows. You feel an itch on your arm and when you look down you see that you have an IV attached. Before you can articulate any of your concerns you hear the door of your room open and Bruce made his entrance.

“Well, well…look who’s awake!” He murmurs too cheerfully for you taste. You let out a frustrated groan.

“ you scared us a little but don’t worry..it’s seems you just got a mild concussion and you’re a bit dehydrated…nothing too concerning for your condition…” Bruce replies with an encouraging smile.

“My condition? What do you mean?” You murmurs, looking at him with concern, you know for sure that you boyfriend got the same expression looking at the scientist.

“I…I thought you already knew…” Bruce stutters, trying to arginate the situation.

“What are you talking about Bruce? Am I dying?” You retort with a hint of panic in your voice.

He starts to laugh loudly and you give him a murderous look.

“No no…for heaven sake no! You’re going to be a mum” he murmurs giving you a reassuring smile.

“Wait, what?” Bucky asks with wide eyes. You try to rise from the bed but you feel your head spinning and nausea coming up leaving a disgusting taste on your tongue so you slump again on the pillows.

“Bad time for a joke Bruce…” you reply bitterly while you search for some water. The scientist is looking you movement and promptly gives you a glass with some ice cubes and water.

“ recently have you experienced some brain fog, nausea, maybe throwing up sometimes? Sensibility to smells? The sudden urge to eat ice or to take a nap in the middle of the day?” He asks politely.

“Yeah, my health hasn’t been great lately and so? My bloody nightmares are keeping me awake most of the nights…it natural that I want to nap during the day!” You reply quietly.

“When you had your last period, Y/N?” He asks you.

You look at him with wide eyes and for a moment you’re speechless. You don’t know when your last period was. You turn your head to search for your clothes, you know that your phone has the answer you need.

“My phone…I need my phone…” you whisper and you see Bucky promptly searching your jacket to give you your phone. With trembling hands you search the app where you track your menstrual cycle and to your surprise,when you open it, you see that your period is 4weeks late.

You gasp quietly and you lift your gaze from the phone to your boyfriend.

“Ok, I get it, you need to talk… I’ll leave you to it…” Bruce murmurs before exiting the room leaving the two of you alone.

The silence between you two is heavy. You look at him, his jaw clenched and his gaze low, as it’s too much to bear. He feels responsible to put this weight on your shoulders, who would want to carry the former winter soldier’s child?

“ I… I can’t be a mother…” you whisper, your eyes full of tears, the words you spoke with dr Reynor are haunting you: why would he want YOU to be the mother of his child? You and your fucked up brain.

He sighs quietly.

“ I know it’s a difficult situation and I know that’s my fault…I should‘ve been more careful…” he murmurs, guilt in his voice “ I shouldn’t burden you with this situation…I know that you love me and I’m grateful for that every single day and I’ll be for the rest of my life but I know it’s too much to carry my child.. who would want a father like the winter soldier?” He concludes with a whisper lowering his head.

“No, no…” you whisper cupping his face to look at him in the eyes, you can feel his pain and it kills you every time he felt so insecure due to the past he endured, he never had a choice. “ no James, you’d be a wonderful father…attentive, generous, protective, a perfect father…it’s me…I’m the one fucked up…I can’t be a mother…after all they did to me, I’m too damaged…I can’t be a good mother…and this child don’t deserve a mother like me…” you started to quietly pouring down all your doubts, all the fears that are haunting you, your sense of unworthiness, the “truth” that you think you had the choice to become what you become.

“Don’t you ever, EVER, speak like that again!” The way he’s grasping you by the arms, shaking you slightly to gave his words more power leave you speechless.

“You’re not too damaged, you’re the bravest, kindest being I’ve ever known in my entire life, despite what happened to you, you managed to explore your own darkness and save your heart. You stayed pure even if you walked through a fucking hell.” His choice of words is kicking you in the gut.

“I’m not as pure as you think!” You shout with desperation.

“ you are! Do you think I don’t know what if feels like to numb yourself and become what they wanted you to be? It’s easier than being wiped out every single time! You did what you had to do to survive and you can’t forgive me and do not forgive yourself for living and experiencing the exact same damn thing!” He shouts back.

Your sobs start silently before taking every fiber of your being and you fully start to cry, he hugs you tightly and you realize that the weight you felt on your chest is disappearing.

“You’re not too damaged. You’re not what they made you become.you’re strong as vibranium, love.and yes, you’re pure… You’re not even a ray of sun, you’re the fucking sunshine….and a little bit of hurricane…”he whispers in your ear while gently caressing your hair until your sobs subside.

He sits on the bed and he gently maneuvers you to sit in his lap so he can look at you in the face.

“Love, I know it’s a difficult situation and I’ll accept and I’ll love you no matter what you choose to do. It’s your body and it’s your choice. Do you want to make a family together?” He murmurs quietly.

“I’ve always wanted a family of my own…” you whisper “ I want a family with you…but I’m scared…” you confess. He hugs you.

“ that’s ok…if you want this…if you’ll have me…we’re in this together…” he murmur kissing the crown of your head.

“ you know that Dr Reynor will freak out when she’ll know that we’re having a baby?” You joke and the laugh that vibrates in his chest makes you giggle while now you feel the weariness of the whole day upon you.

" I think I'll take a nap..." you whisper softly before snuggling against your boyfriend.

“I’ve got you mama…” he whispers holding you tight against his chest and lulling you gently into sleep.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #buckyxedelweiss #edelweiss #bucky barnes x yn #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky angst #bucky fanfic

[iamvegorott]

Could you maybe do Bingaverage with “Is that my shirt?” Would love to see Bings reaction of Chase wearing his shirt! 💛

 “Is that my shirt?”

---------

“Next time, you’re going into the murder house first,” Chase grumbled as he and Bing entered their house. Bing walked his usual way while Chase had a slight waddle since he got drenched in mud. 

“I didn’t know they’d have a literal trench in their house. Who has a mud pit in their living room?” Bing gestured widely with his arms as he spoke. 

“A mud pit is far from the strangest thing we’ve seen on the job, dude.” Chase chuckled, flicking his hands when he felt the mud dripping down them, and he grimaced when he saw that he caused some of it to splatter across the floor. “I’m gonna jump in the shower and try not to get more of this everywhere.” 

“Got a free mud bath out of this, at least. Some people pay way too much for that stuff. You know, it’s supposed to be relaxing and all that.” Bing gave Chase a big smile. 

“Come hug me, and you can tell me how relaxing it is.” Chase held his arms out and took a step toward Bing. 

“I’m good, I’m good. I mean, it’s your relaxation. I’m fine being like stressed and stuff.” Bing held his hands up and moved away. 

“Uh-huh, sure.” Chase clicked and tongue and then chuckled. “Mind looking for the mop while I shower? I can’t remember where we put that thing.” 

“No problemo!” Bing’s hands turned to hold up both thumbs. 

“I’ll see you when I’m not covered in shit.” Chase snorted at himself and walked off for the bathroom. 

Bing went on the mop hunt as soon as Chase left. It took longer to find the cleaning tool than it should have, reminding him that they should clean their floor more often than they do. Or at least mop it. They were pretty good about sweeping, but that was because they dropped things often enough and would get caught in the ‘while I already have this out’ mindset. 

He filled the sink with water and floor cleaner and got to work. Chase was in the shower for a while, likely being extra sure that he didn’t have any mud left on his body and warming up his body, too. Bing was rinsing out the mop for the last time, unplugging the drain, and setting the mop across the counter in a way that let the head of it drip dry into the sink. 

“I think I had mud in places I didn’t even know I had,” Chase said as he joined Bing. 

“Exfoliated and fresh in your-” Bing stopped the joke he wanted to make when he turned and saw what Chase was wearing. “Is that my shirt?”

“We’re behind on laundry. You got a couple more shirts than me,” Chase said with a shrug, heading over to a cupboard and opening it up. “Any thoughts on dinner?” 

“I…” Bing forgot words for a minute, brain unable to form a thought as he just looked at Chase. He didn’t know why he was literally bluescreening. Chase was just wearing sweatpants with one of his shirts, but something about it being his shirt made the rest of his brain cells disappear.  

“Dude? You good?” Chase stepped over to Bing and poked his forehead. “You look like your circuits got fried.” 

“Huh? What?” Bing blinked as he somewhat got his head in order. “Sorry, I was thinking about dessert.” 

“Dessert? You have something in mind?” Chase asked.

“Yep!” Bing casually bent and threw Chase over his shoulder.

“Bro!” Chase said with a laugh. “Give a man a warning!” He continued to laugh as he got carried away. 

----------

Soft and Sweet Sentence Starters: Link

@bookwormscififan @brokentimewatch

#anon #bingaverage #soft and sweet sentence starters #veggie writes

[xplrvibes]

since you seem to know the people in destination fear (now project fear), I need to ask two things: are they known for faking evidence? & is that tall guy (i believe his name is tanner)’s voice truly that deep? cause damn dude 😰😰. I’ve been watching some of their videos (currently watching pennhurst) and they seem to get a good chunk of evidence. i’m digging them so far, since snc haven’t been giving me the rush anymore with all their guests and dares and rituals and re-enactments, feels like i’m watching a fabricated reality show tbh. worth for the entertainment, completely null for the paranormal. i’ve watched other paranormal content creators, like paranormal files, twin paranormal (their personalities are SO stark contrast against their looks, makes me laugh every single time), Steve and Dylan’s channel (which I also really like and miss them collabing w snc), exploringwithjosh (though less now bc he collabs a lot w seth and after that incident and what his ex said, which left me completely nauseated, I can’t watch the guy anymore. shame bc I really liked his vibe investigating and how good he was at Estes), even kris and celina as well but I guess I’m digging paranormal fear more and more as I watch their content.

I don't actually know of anything controversial with them paranormal wise. I will say; however, that Dakota got his start on Ghost Adventures before Zak spun him out into his own show (which Zak was the EP of for many years)...so take from that what you will.

I truly don't watch any paranormal content on youtube these days, outside of snc (and that I mostly watch for snc themselves, tbh). I did watch a few episodes of Destination Fear over the years and didn't mind it, but to be honest, I tend to forget that they moved to YouTube and do their thing over there now. My brain is just so fried these days lol.

Now, Twin Paranormal is one who I will say I find extremely suspect, paranormal evidence wise. Anyone who uses a cell phone app for evp's is just...not for me 🤣.

I don't think you have to worry about Josh and Seth collabing anymore, anon. Josh made it clear that those days are over, from my understanding.

I believe he also made it clear that he's going back to urbex content because the paranormal community has gotten so out of hand lately, so I guess it doesn't really matter. But yea, Josh is flying solo these days.

Anywho, snc and Project Fear did recently film a collab (or maybe 2, not sure) together, so there is that to look forward to as well, if you're in to Project Fear and want to see snc maybe give the hyperactive streamer route a break!

#asks

[esmerelda-and-alouette]

headcanon #4?:

what kind of music do the firsts like to listen to?

sephiroth: i can see sephiroth liking alternative music and like lowkey rock songs. i’m thinking stuff like halsey and billie eilish. idk, he just gives the eilish emo vibe 😌

genesis: musicals. need i say more? favorite one would probably have to be phantom of the opera or sweeney todd though. he’s a fan of the classics

angeal: i can’t exactly explain this one, but frank sinatra and nickelback. no in between. maybe it’s just my one fried out brain cell making no sense, but this is what actually made me create this post lmao. i just thought “angeal would probably listen to frank sinatra and nickelback”

zack: MOVIE. SOUNDTRACKS. specifically action or spy movies. he adores (most) of the bond movie songs. also the kobra kai soundtrack because of course. as is a running joke at this point on my page, he also listens to 90s girl music. hugeee fan of celine dion and whitney houston and mariah carey. he never said anything, but he actually loved All I Want For Christmas Is You when he first heard it. i don’t make the rules, i just speak them

#final fantasy vii #angeal hewley #crisis core #genesis rhapsodos #final fantasy 7 #final fantasy vii headcanon #sephiroth #zack fair #crisis core headcanon #the firsts headcanon #music #sephiroth loves billie eilish #genesis is a theatre gay #angeal likes frank sinatra and nickelback #i don’t make the rules #zack fair loves kobra kai because of course he does

[acefaun]

Like a little dragon hoarding tiny shiny things

Also, in your other post with the little huedhaut image, you know he appears to be snapping with his index finger? And none of the gods snap with their ring finger like I do. I just find it to be interesting since snapping seems so simple at first

I AM NOT A~

…Okay I see your point.

So…. Maybe I should be acedragon instead of acefaun…? 😝 Nah, I’m kidding! I might horde like a dragon, but I’ve got the soft qualities of an emotionally sensitive faun. 🥹

But okay, listen, Huedhaut is weird. I think he fried some brain cells when he removed his stars. I mean, who the heck snaps with their index finger?? I can’t even do that! And… 🤯 I don’t know anyone who snaps with their ring finger like you do, love.

But. Maybe? Maybe it’s an option for them.

1) you can snap normally with your middle finger and make a snapping noise to let people know you’re snapping your fingers

2) you can snap with your middle and index fingers both at the same time(maybe it’s more powerful than snapping with one finger…)

3) you can snap with your ring finger to be unique and completely not like the other gods

Or

4) you can be like Huedhaut and snap with your index finger (it’s like snapping but without the snap noise. He’s onto something. So, I feel that the game needs to remove the snap sound effect every time Huedhaut snaps his fingers)

Woah, that was a very interesting thought. 😆 I’m glad you brought up Huedhaut’s weirdness. No wonder he was dating such an oddball goddess.

#my asks #star crossed myth #scm huedhuat #my art #artists on tumblr #dragon

[prisonprocess]

Tim Goes to Prison

45.

In prison everything looks the same, so you don’t know where you’re going unless some CO is taking you there.  But finally we go down a hallway and a door opens and the CO says, “Here’s the new ones,” and we go in a room, and a convict that’s in there, sort of a tall thin guy, little older than me, says, “OK, but why do you think they can do it?”  Then he remembers to add a “Sir” to what he said, like you’re supposed to, but this is obviously some con that has a little more going for him than the average con, which is nothing, so he can sort of consider taking liberties.  Then the CO says, “Just look at em.”  The con gives Bodhi and me a long, squinty look and he says, “OK, see what you mean, Sir,” and the CO leaves.

So huh?  What is this?  I know it’s not a whore house, cuz I’m not that hot!  Maybe to Bodhi I am!  But anyway, I look around the room, and it’s nothing but computers in there!  Nothing but these little hootches where you sit in front of a screen and play with the keyboard.  Like, maybe ten computers, ten cons in front of them.  Eight cons, I mean.  Two of the hootches are empty-- nobody there.

The con starts pointing at the empty one.  “Siddown,” he says.  “You’re in IT now.”  

So dude!  That was our “labor detail!”  Hackin for the prison!  Like they say in civilian words, “maintaining institutional records and systems.”

I’ll break it down for you.  Ten hours a week, we gotta deal with the tickets we get from the COs and the Loots and so on. Ridiculous.  “Hey, why can’t I access the inventory for the boots supply?” Cuz you’re stupid, that’s why. Then there’s 30 hours a week doin games. If you wonder what’s goin on in your own IT joint where you work, well now you know.  Then maybe eight hours a week “fixin things up.”  That’s what we call it.  Easy easy—the underground exchange.  Some cons peddle soap or weed or TP or whatever; that’s the old way.  We deal in data.  You wanta know somethin, you wanta change somethin, you wanta get on the list for somethin, you come to us.  COs never figure that out.  Somethin happens; they don’t know how it happened.  Cons know better.  They know that Bodhi or me or Chacha over there, we hit a key--and somebody’s toast! Or somebody’s steak and fries.  

My man Bodhi turned out to be better at fixin thangs than anybody else.  Even me.  Six months in, we’re gettin whiskey in the cell every night.  Not to mention bein The Main to all these tattoo freaks and gangies and Gen Pop Johnnies like my brother—tons of muscle, ounces of brains.  End of story, duder: if we don’t push it too far, which we won’t, we’re cool forever.  

#uniform

[crimesmyblood]

Entry #1: Friday? More like fried my brains today

    Today has been horrendous. I feel like I’m falling through worlds and i can’t keep up with what the actual fuck is going on. It’s like i close my eyes, for a brief second, and then I’m somewhere else, and i have no fucking clue whats going on. Then my ass decides to feel sleepy and now I'm literally holding onto my last pieces of consciousness. Anyways, I’ve fallen asleep during english, only remembering obnoxiously loud and awful music before waking up and realizing the teacher isn’t there and everyone is writing something. I mentally flipped it all off and went back to sleep for another 5 minutes before promptly deciding to wake up and do some work. I turned to my classmate to ask what they were all writing and he chuckled, saying we were doing some exercises in the workbook. It took me a minute to realize I called him by the wrong name and also had half my face plastered in a red pattern from falling asleep on my sweater’s sleeve. I don’t blame him, I laughed at myself too after looking at myself in the bathroom mirror and seeing how much of a mess i am. It’d be almost hot if i wasn’t 150 at my almost ripe age of 16. An embarrassment, someone might say, but I find profits mostly! Like getting discounts everywhere and being able to sleep under the school benches during 2 hour lectures in the gym. I’m just travel-size built. 

  Anyways, our teacher (during english after she came back from fuck knows where) asked us to write something fun that we’ve done during the week. I started the paragraph by saying “I’ve been contemplating the meaning behind our existence, and came to the conclusion that “reson” is just a social construct.” Needless to say I did not elaborate on it, in my still half asleep state. Then I told her I've been practicing the guitar, also I have stolen someone’s girlfriend and went to the park with her. Then I told her that I’ve been engulfed in a drama with a friend, unable to reciprocate their love and how their actions went over my boundaries. I sneaked in that I’m mentally unstable and can not deal with relationships at the moment. Then I told her a joke! She loves hearing my jokes! The joke was “Two priests in a car got pulled over by a cop. The officer said “We’re looking for two child molesters” At which the priests responded “We volunteer!”“. Love that one! 

   Then I smoothly went into saying that it reminded me of my uncle, and then that as I grew, I realized that my family is just a bunch of assholes. I did not elaborate on that one either. I said therapy prompted me to debate with my relatives and that it does wonders to a human. Then I told her to have a good day. Ended the paragraph by saying “Also I’m gay! Hanging by my last threads, [name] :) “. I think I’ll be seeing the school therapist more often after this stunt XD 

    Anyways, there’s this guy in my class. Precious smile! We seem to share at least one brain cell! For context, we are separated into two groups for English and IT. I'm in the smarter one and he’s in the other one. So, everytime I go to the bathroom during english/IT, I somehow ALWAYS bump into him in the toilet! Like bruh! He always greets me like we see each other for the first time that day, and i always tell him how boring classes are. He then agrees, checks himself out in the mirror, says he’s hot, I agree, he chuckles and then we part ways to our separate classes. We smile to each other every time we meet eyes and do a funny wave, which is this funny wiggle of fingers with a comical “byeeeeeeeee”. He once added “Kisses!” Before I left. I have no clue if he’s gay, or not, but I'm not raising any hopes. I’m not crushing on him by the way. I just have this wave of interest in him, and a wish for attention. It will go away in a few weeks, it always does. 

  Today I was left home alone for like 3 hours, so I decided to treat myself to some good quality time to get rid of my shitty mood. I popped some popcorn, made some amazing tea and rewatched “Heathers 1988”. Good movie. Didn’t fix my mood, but at least I felt a cooler type of shitty. Also as i’m writing this, he texted me if i play Valorant. At which I of course said “Yeah!” as a liar would. I’ve never played it before. So now it’s my quest to install the game and learn to play it over the weekend so we can play together. I realized that if i wanted to bond and make new friends, I had to find a good middle ground. So i started watching Starwars cus this one guy is a huge fan and he’s really cool and i want to talk to him more. And now i’m also going to play Valorant to have an excuse to talk more to this other guy. Maybe i’ll end up liking the game more and flipping him off. Time will tell. 

    Anyways, it’s midnight and i have guitar classes tomorrow. I’ll update as i see fit. Remember, alcohol doesn’t solve shit but neither does milk! 

   It was ya boi and the last fragments of my sanity this week! Take care

#blog #everyday life #alcohol doesn't solve shit but neither does milk

[redpandajournal]

Detached

What had happened in between these years was wild to say the least. 

Anyway in short is : there were so many shifts happened. Probably mistakes but wasn’t entirely mistakes that I regret.

I don’t know if there are actually anyone reading this thing / even know who i am as a person, except for some people i know lol

I conclude that this space is actually for future me to remember what i experienced before i'm leaving earth.

2 years ago, one of my very-close 2 best friends died. And I didn’t know that it was a pivotal moment for me to went a little bit insane. Her death shifted something inside me that made me unable to connect emotionally with a person or anything the same. I can cut anything off , i feel like i have lost a home or perhaps a purpose.

I still use line to contact my friends who are currently in JP, i want to uninstall this app because no one i knew use this thing anymore except from him but i can’t because this messaging app is where i had all the memories of her 

she also had the audacity to put this goddamn banner on. i might be indeed a bucin bodoh -guilty as charged lmaooo ,but she unleashed a curse upon us to be bucin bodohs while it’s actually her , shes the number one dumbass who made lunch daily for her bf AND ALSO PERSONALLY get the stupid lunch to his office.

now i cant delete this thing as long as i live! and i have to use this phone forever

i’m going to beat her ass in hell

Recently i also learned that I can likely die anytime, i might as well go crazy hahahahhaha.  I will try to not immediately ‘die’ tho , because i don’t want to leave him out just yet. She already left us and my other best friend is much more mentally unstable than i am. Both of us are steadily tortured ,because she’ll show up in our dreams every 2 weeks or so. 

And it was horrible, yet i’m always waiting for her to come. She’s always ‘alive’ in my dreams.

It was always as if we were still in school. I have recordings about my encounter with her. I always knew that she already died, and in every end of the dream she always left us. I have this strong feeling that one of these days I might go with her. 

I’m starting to look at the relics of my life.  I mean i do this journaling thing from probably since i could write/read. And then i started digging from the things i wrote when i was 10-15. My older brain decided that this girl is borderline insane / schizophrenic ,if i could go back in time i might have just shotgunned her  and watched myself disappear in particles. I’ll compile excerpts of dreams/ intrusive thoughts she had in this place because while it was embarrassing it was also very interesting. 

I think everyone i knew who maintained a blog since they were kids has some kind of brain damage and i got mine confirmed.

At some point of these years i also juggled 3 jobs (?) , i kinda knew what i was doing but i think i fried my brain (lol the ml engineering job and family business ) too much happening, but some notables:

My mom hooked me up with her friend’s son to marry 

-took a job from another city and moved out discreetly to run away. (failed but not rly)

I took sabbaticals after to repair my fried brain by taking in ez manageable jobs but none of these are notable/pivotal. I did great enough to not go insane

lost braces and had most teeth painfully repaired , thank god it’s salvageable

We have a cat now, reason to live +1

left ‘that’ community and dissolved the cells we built /currently in

encountered a golden retriever

a girl confessed to me but too bad 

powapowa died , wowaka died, treow abandoned electrocutica, hachi emerged as kenshi yonezu and he sounds totally different 

teto graduated into synthv

[thathusenfulhu]

Thai Hot Rice @ Olive Garden

so i tell aisaadhi i'm gonna eat a good baiggandu and she asked me where from.

'olive garden.'

'ughh,' she responds.

and this is a reaction i think i can sort of excuse from women like her because OG does give off a male vibe, but really, have any of these guys gone upstairs?

it's an entirely new dimension, red tablecloths overlaid with polka-dotted fabric, clean tiles, horrendous hirigaa artwork, and NO clumps of smoking middle-aged men and their leery thoughts. no, in this parallel universe, it's just couples and groups of non-smoking friends and the chatter from below wafts up, softened into a gentle, hypnotic drone.

and let me add that on this afternoon, right next to me and my lawyerly friend, let's call him hasanfulhu, was this bunch of women, and one of them was black. or maybe african american.

OK, fast forward to when i met hasanfulhu. he comes in all dressed up like the lawyer he is, meaning pretty badly. it's mostly his shoes, they look like they are homeschooled and have never met with others their kind.

'man, there was this hot woman with my client today.'

'yeah? who's she?'

'she's actually my partner, well sort of, we started this practice together you see? and she...'

and i zone out, i can't spare my last remaining brain cells to unravel this court case of a story.

'...right?' he asks me.

'right,' i say. 'let's order. i want the thai hot rice.'

'oh, of course you do, of course you do,' hasanfulhu laughs. cos that's all i get here. i know people think OG's some sort of pizza powerhouse but these are likely people who've never eaten a good pie their entire lives.

no matter. what i like about OG is that it never takes long for the food to arrive. well, at least not the thai hot rice. now let me say a few things about this toothsome dish.

i was introduced to it by someone who worked at the country's most humanistic of institutions. and i don't think i've ever really got over it.

a few words of caution: you gotta be able to handle your heat if you're to eat it. and don't be allergic to seafood.

the rice is cooked (i suspect) in a light tomato base, then chili, bell pepper, fried onion, and fried calamari are added. overall, you'd get a kind of sweet and sour, seafood-y taste, and it is served with a side of paaparu. fresh crispy paaparu. and a rather forlorn slice of cucumber this time. the rice, meanwhile, is usually topped with a fried egg but i have mine without cos really, it doesn't need that crap.

and it's a meal that sets you back by 100 MVR, more expensive than a nasigoreng from a kaanivaa kada but i would insist a vastly better choice for that extra 15 rufiyaa.

as i walk home a full man after lunch, i get a text from aisaadhi.

'how was it?'

i tell her.

'huh,' she responds. 'what comes to me when you say OG are pizza boxes stacked in an oozing, oily tower on the back of bicycles.'

to each their own.

#olivegarden #baiggandu #OG

[minimel-fics]

The Way We Get By - Part 3

Ez Reyes X Reader

Ezekiel takes you to dinner as promised, and dessert follows.

Warning: Minors do NOT interact with this blog. 18+ only. Vulgar language, exhibitionism, oral sex and unprotected P in V sex.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4, Part 5

Masterlist

x x x

You were grateful that you had decided to bring extra undergarments with the change of clothes you had brought to work, considering how Ez had so quickly managed to ruin the ones you had been wearing. You had quickly cleaned yourselves up, doing what you could in the dim basement to hide what had gone on between the two of you. It was pretty clear that everyone knew what had happened, Ez had teased you that it was most likely from your loud, uncontrollable mews.

You were eager to ride a motorcycle for the first time, excited to feel the wind in your hair and the exhilaration of being on the open road. You had spent a few hours on the open road, enjoying being pressed so closely against Ez’s well-toned body, only stopping at a roadside diner that he promised always served the best food.

Ez watched as your hand snuck across the table, stealing a fry from his plate when you thought he wouldn't notice; he played along as if he hadn’t seen until you openly smirked at him, stealing the one right from his fingers. He playfully slapped your hand away, sending you a mocking glare.

“Hey, you should have ordered your own.”

You shrugged as your fingers snatched one more. “I didn't realize that this diner had superior fries.”

"I'm sure the city will have some good fry spots.”

Your smile slowly slipped off your face, and you pushed your nearly empty plate toward the center of the table as you were faced with the feeling you had been pushing down all day, “I’m going to miss Santo Padre.”

“Santo Padre is going to miss you,” Ez assured you, his fingers sliding across the table to lace with your own.

“Look, Ez,” Your nerves were apparent in your voice as you stood from your seat, sliding into the booth next to Ez, “I like you, and believe me when I say what we just did was amazing, but I’m leaving in a few days, and I don’t think we should get too into… whatever this is.”

“Then we won’t get too into it.” Ez kept his voice low, turning his body so he could look at you properly, “But I want to continue tonight, if that’s okay with you?”

Although your brain was shouting at you that this should be where you cut things off, your body wouldn’t let you say no as his warm hand grazed the exposed patch of skin between the top of your jeans and the hem of your t-shirt.

“Maybe one night can’t hurt.”

The air around you felt charged now as you rode on the back of Ez’s bike; your destination this time was your apartment- both of you having heated expectations for what would happen when you arrived. You pressed your body closer to his as your thoughts floated to how the rest of the night would be like, especially if what had happened with the washing machine was his definition of an appetizer.

You bounced on your heels as you pressed the call button for the elevator. The anticipation of what might occur once you reached the sanctuary of your apartment was too much for your body to handle. Ez wasted no time pulling you into the empty elevator when the doors opened.

"What floor?"

“4.”

The button was pushed, and the doors slowly closed. Your body was pressed against the wall immediately after the door shut, Ez trapping you against the cool wood panelling with his mouth. His hands moved to lift your body, pinning your back against the wall, but you nearly fell from his arms as the elevator abruptly stopped.

“Shit.” Ez pulled away from you, glancing around the elevator for any immediate cause before he noticed your panicked expression, “You good?”

“I’m not full-on claustrophobic, but being stuck in an elevator is kind of a nightmare of mine.” You tangled your fingers in your hair, tugging at your roots as you began to pace the small space.

“I still have cell service.” He dialled the number left on the buttoned panel, watching you pace as he explained the situation to the man on the phone. “Help is on the way.”

You paused, placing your forehead against the cool wall to regain your composure as you accepted the fact that you would be stuck in there for a while.

Ez’s hands rested on your shoulders, his plump lips leaving feather light kisses against your neck as he attempted to help you relax, earning a sign from you as you finally began to feel yourself grow less tense. You startled Ez when you spun around to crash your lips onto his with a bruising force, your hands slipping beneath his shirt to feel the warm skin beneath.

"What are you doing?”

“Might as well make the most out of the time we'll be stuck in here." You pouted as you sensed his hesitancy, “You didn't seem to mind things getting hot and heavy in here before we got stuck- at least now we know that the door won’t open and give someone a free show.”

Ez smirked as his strong hands gripped your hips, pushing your body back against the wall, “I didn’t take you to be an exhibitionist.”

You slipped out of his grasp and dropped to your knees, your nimble fingers immediately reaching to unbuckle the leather belt that kept Ez’s jeans so perfectly low on his hips.

“Are you forgetting what we did in a brothel earlier, on top of a laundry machine?”

“That felt a lot more private than an elevator.” His eyes stayed locked on you as you freed his length from his white boxers, your warm tongue traced the vein on its underside- both of you revelling in the way it pulsated at the contact.

“You still want me to stop?” You teased as you fluttered your lashes at the biker, knowing that he would be quick to urge you on.

“Shut up.” Ez’s hand was no longer gentle as it tangled itself in your hair, pulling your head forward, so you had no choice but to take his cock fully into your mouth. You moaned around him, feeling your arousal intensify as you finally got to witness his more dominant side after having been daydreaming about it for so long. Ez tugged your hair, pulling you to your feet and not wasting a moment before your jeans were removed from your legs and your back pressed against the wall. This time there was no slipping out of his hold as he teased your slick entrance with his length.

“Look at you, so needy for me.” His warm breath ghosting over your face caused you to shiver as he finally entered you, your head falling back against the wall as Ez left you no time to adjust to his girth. His lips reconnected to your exposed neck as his hips slammed against your own, the duo sensation almost becoming too much for you as his hands pushed your shirt up to reveal your black bra.

This felt different than earlier, Ez had been so gentle earlier, and the intimacy involved in watching each other get off was at another level compared to the sheer dominance and need that was fuelling you now. You clawed at the kutte on his shoulders, desperately wanting to rip the leather off his shoulders, but the intense pleasure he was giving you was too overwhelming to do anything other than chase your quickly approaching high. You were so focused on the feeling of his veiny cock against your hot walls and hitting you in the perfect spot while he was focused on dragging more of those beautiful sounds from your lips that neither of you heard the noises coming from outside the elevator doors.

You were both so close to meeting your peaks when the door was slowly pried open that you barely paid any mind to the shocked faces that were suddenly there.

“Uh, Ez?” Your fingers desperately tapped against his shoulder as your eyes met the wide, unfamiliar ones of the firefighters standing outside the door. Ez was quick to pause his movements, slowly dropping you onto your feet as he shielded your exposed body with his own.

“God, this is so embarrassing.” You muttered as you turned to face the firefighters once you were fully dressed, allowing Ez to pull on his clothes as you contemplated dying on the spot out of pure embarrassment.

“We’ve done quite a few elevator rescues but never a sex in an elevator rescue.”

Thankfully the firefighters seemed to find your situation rather amusing, so it didn’t seem like you were going to be in any trouble for your extreme public display of affection.

“You ever do it in an elevator?”

“Ever since nearly being crushed by an elevator that one time I can’t stand being in them for enough time.”

“Thanks for the rescue, guys, we’re just gonna….” You led Ez past the firefighters that had begun to share stories of similar calls, sending them a sheepish smile as Ez held in his laughter at your expense. You dug through your pocket for your house keys as you reached your door, fumbling with them as you struggled to contain yourself. Ez took the keys from your shaking fingers, unlocking the door quickly before he led you inside.

“It’s probably a good thing that we were interrupted.” Ez teased, watching as you sent him an incredulous look from where you leaned on the locked door, “For one, we had no protection, and there was no way in hell that I was going to pull out when you were squeezing me like that.” Ez trapped your head between his muscular arms as he planted both hands on either side of your head, his nose brushing against yours, “And since we were so close, just think about how hard I’m gonna make you cum this time.”

x x x

Join a taglist here.

All Mayans: @mijop @bellisperennis0 @chibsytelford @beeroses @un-poetryy @kate-moon @rosieposie0624 @partypoison00 @mrsstevenbuchananstark @mayansxlover @shanty-lol @pjkimrn @mmm @circumbilivagination @oklahomapeach

Ez Reyes: @justazzi @spnaquakindgdom @pearlkitten33 @lilsylvia @sia2raw @avengers-fixation @elephants-are-a-thing

This Fic: @frattsparty @tartanbumsters @thesandbeneathmytoes @jasminee97 @pinkpenguindeer @ticosas @noz4a2 @withmyteeth @blessedboo

#mayans mc #mayans mc fic #mayans #mayans mc x reader #mayans mc smut #ez reyes smut #ez reyes x reader #ezekiel reyes #jd pardo

[theminecraftbox]

please continue posting about every line actually, while I was watching the stream I was like oh boy I cannot WAIT to see what tumblr user minesbecraftin has to say about this! anyway smaller detail, I think c!sams attitude was really interesting, specifically how he really seemed to think he could get Dream to let him out? (or hoped he could at least) almost felt like he’s so convinced on what he did to c!Dream being right that he didn’t even consider that dream’d have the emotional desire for revenge, thinking he’d instead logically consider c!sams bargain and agree. c!sam be wild man, we love dream mocking his hypocrisy!!

💜💜💜 I WILL keep posting and no one and nothing can stop me 🥰 literally I am too wired to sleep rn. Should I queue some of these rants? Probably. Will I? Fuck no, I’m inflicting them on the populace as soon as they roll off my fried brain stem.

/rp/dsmp yesss I have so many thoughts about Sam’s entire attitude towards Dream ~obeying his commands~.

I think it’s impossible that some of it isn’t habitual, that Sam simply expects Dream to obey him because, ya know, he spent nearly a year ordering Dream around. He expects Dream to listen to him because Dream literally had to, under threat of starvation and isolation and physical torture and death. Dream fucking obeyed him. Dream begged him. Dream bowed to him.

But some of it is clearly just, Sam’s weird entitled logic. Sam assumed that Tubbo should, like, shrug off him murdering his husband and kidnapping his son! This is the degree of cognitive dissonance we’re dealing with. Sam thinks that, because he believes he has solid reasons for his actions, everyone else’s perspective is a) irrelevant b) should somehow, magically, match his. It’s like he thinks he can WILL the universe into matching his expectations or something.

He thinks he can bargain with Dream not so much because he thinks Dream is reasonable, or because he thinks Dream should forgive and forget, or because he thinks he has a good deal to offer—but because he literally can’t act like the world would treat him like this. It’s deluded.

If this were a more isolated case, I’d also argue that Sam’s desperate—but damn he really acts like this all the time. It also reminds me of when he commanded Dream to return to his cell during the prison break, and even when he asked for the revival book after Techno’s escape.

#c!dream and c!sam #abuse. #daedalus arc

[somebodycall911onabc]

Spoon me, you idiot

Post ep4x13 Buddie because my brain is just that episode on loop. Hands up if you're not ready for the season 4 finale, folks. Have some cuddling and love confessions in the meantime.

Buck helps Eddie over the threshold with one hand at Eddie’s elbow and the other pressed against his hip. Eddie’s fine, he’s fine, he’s alive, but he’s exhausted. Pain and shock weigh down his shoulders, make him unsteady on his feet.

Carla breathes in sharply at the sight of him. Then she’s stepping forward, folding Eddie into a soft embrace, pulling his head down cheek to cheek with hers. Buck drags his eyes away from his living, breathing, living friend to find Chris, who’s lying on the couch with his glasses askew, mouth open in sleep. Buck’s heart clenches like a fist. He’s going to remember Chris’s haunted, horrified expression for the rest of his life, the light dying in Chris’s eyes as Buck had to tell him… had to tell him that his dad wasn’t coming home that night.

Buck walks over to Chris and kneels down beside him. He’s pretty sure it’s the first time Chris has slept since he heard about it. The first time in more than 48 hours that the kid’s closed his eyes. Buck brushes the curls back from Chris’s forehead, trying to be gentle, not wanting to wake him.

Eddie gets down next to Buck, their knees pressing together. Buck feels the shudder that runs down Eddie’s spine, feels it echoed in his soul. Buck isn’t the religious type, but he feels like this is another miracle. Years after his first brush with death, Eddie coming home once again to his son.

With a hand on Chris’s shoulder, Eddie murmurs, “hey, my little Superman. Chris, I’m here.”

Chris’s eyes open slowly, reluctantly, until he sees his dad’s face and wakes up all at once.

“Dad!” Chris shouts, hands flying up to attach themselves to Eddie’s face. “Dad!”

Eddie’s smiling, huffing out laughter in pure, unadulterated joy at seeing his son’s delighted expression. Chris is grinning and whooping, falling forward to curl himself into his dad’s chest. Eddie lifts one arm to hold Chris close and buries his face in Chris’s hair.

Buck blinks back tears, feeling relief crash over him. He rubs his eyes and starts to get to his feet, wanting to give the Diaz boys some space, until he feels a tug on his shirt. Eddie’s hand twists in the fabric. He’s not even looking at Buck, head tucked against the curve of Chris’s skull. Buck sinks back down and tentatively puts his arms around the both of them, Chris’s knobbly spine and Eddie’s strong back, his cheek brushing Eddie’s forehead. Buck lets out a breath that trembles like an earthquake.

It feels like home. It feels impossible. It’s what he’s always wanted. It feels like something Buck isn’t allowed to have.

When they finally let go of each other, what could be a minute or a year later, Buck notices Carla standing at the end of the couch. She’s smiling fondly at all of them, and Buck realizes abruptly that this is the first time he’s seen her since the pandemic started. He gets up—although it’d be more fair to say he tears himself away—and moves toward her, and there’s always been something magic about Carla because she takes one look at him and she knows.

“I missed you,” Buck says, his nose smashed into her chin. She’s hugging him like she’s trying to pack Buck down tight and snug him into a little box where she can keep him safe. Or maybe that’s just Buck’s wishful thinking. He’s so goddamn tired.

“I missed you too, Buckaroo,” Carla says, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. Buck swallows the lump in his throat her tenderness causes.

She pulls away and very gently pats his cheek, looking Buck in the eye. “He needs you, you hear?” She whispers, holding that eye contact like she’s bet money on a staring competition. “Take care of each other.”

Buck can only nod.

She lets go of him and Buck shakes himself into standing straight, even though he’d much rather crumple to the floor. But he needs to get Eddie and Chris to bed, he needs to figure out what’s still edible in the kitchen and take out the trash, he needs to call the pharmacy for Eddie’s meds and the station for Eddie’s med leave, he needs to—

“Alright boys, get some rest.” Buck blinks and Carla comes back into focus. She’s addressing all of them, voice firm. “I’ll be here bright and early tomorrow to help out.”

“Thank you, Carla,” Eddie says.

“No need for that.” She bends down to give Eddie a quick hug, and Buck hears her tell him, “just try not to get on the bad side of any more sniper-rifle-wielding nut jobs, alright?”

Eddie’s reply is somewhere between a laugh and a choked-back sob.

Buck walks Carla to the door. Before she leaves, she looks at him, sharp-eyed and commanding again. “You call me if you need anything. Anything. You look just as bad as he does.”

“I’ll be fine. Thanks, Carla.”

She narrows her eyes at him, but this is what Buck has always been best at. He wades through the hurt and the pain and just keeps going. He gives her a tight smile, reminds himself that he wasn’t the one shot (no, just the one sprayed with Eddie’s blood, he can still feel it on his skin, still taste it on his lips), and closes the door behind her.

Getting Chris and Eddie to bed is easy. Buck lifts Chris up, carries him to Eddie’s room, and pulls the covers over both the Diaz boys. Eddie tries to catch Buck’s eye while Buck leaves the room, but if Buck stops moving then he’s not sure when or if he’ll start again. Buck pulls the bedroom door most of the way closed, leaving a tiny crack in case Eddie or Chris need him in the night.

In the kitchen, the clock on the stove informs him that it’s just past 9 pm. It’s jarringly early. It feels like time doesn’t really exist, that he’s been moving in a place defined by the hours since Eddie dropped, the hours since Eddie went into surgery, the hours since Eddie woke up.

Buck opens the fridge and looks into it without seeing anything, like when you’re reading only to realize that three pages have gone by without you remembering a single word. He closes the fridge door and opens it again, and oh, there’s the carton of milk and bottle of ketchup on the top shelf, the egg carton down to its last egg, a container of left-over fried rice from… was it yesterday? Buck folds back the top flap and sniffs it, decides it will be fine for one of the boys to eat when they get up.

He closes the fridge and investigates the pantry next. Two boxes of spaghetti, a can of beans, three cans of chicken noodle soup, an unopened bag of quinoa that is probably the result of Ana because Buck’s not sure Eddie has ever heard of quinoa—like he’s taking inventory of the truck. Thermal blankets, C-spine collar kit, 3L of sterile water, 3L sodium chloride, hug-a-bear. The 118 has a blue elephant courtesy of Athena. Buck could honestly really use it right now.

Buck runs a hand through his hair and pulls out his phone, planning to make a grocery list. He sees two missed calls from Bobby and eight from Maddie. One from Chim. Hen texted him at 4pm: How you holding up?

Buck very slowly puts the phone down.

He takes a step back and grips the edge of the kitchen counter. Breathe, Buck, he thinks. Just breathe.

His vision is spotty when he opens his eyes, like he’d shut them too tight. He doesn’t remember shutting them. It doesn’t matter. Buck finds a scrap of paper in the recycling bin and a pen from the junk drawer and writes a list. It’s late, so he’ll go to the grocery store in the morning, early, make sure breakfast is on the table for when Eddie and Chris get up. Oh fuck, does he have a shift tomorrow? What day is it?

Buck puts down the pen and presses the heels of his palms to his eyes. He can’t do this. He can’t stand here and pretend like he can take care of Eddie because he can’t stop seeing Eddie die. It’s in the back of his head every moment, it’s what he sees every time he closes his eyes, it’s the memory rewritten by his cells as they multiply and decay, it’s in his fucking genome now or whatever they call it—

it’s in the air he breathes, the reminder that for a moment that lasted an eternity, Eddie’s heart had stopped beating.

It’s a loud silence. Deafening.

Buck thinks, take a breath before you pass out, idiot.

Buck thinks, get a glass of water and pull yourself together.

Buck thinks, your best friend just got shot, you don’t have time for this bullshit.

Buck peels his hands away from the counter slowly, carefully, like if he makes one wrong move he’ll come away with flayed palms. He pours himself a glass of water and makes himself drink the whole thing. He picks up the list he wrote and reads it over and over and over. He thinks: what do I know is true? I’m standing in Eddie’s kitchen. I’m alive. Eddie is alive. And: I should get carrots.

Buck hiccups. Carrots—fucking—

No. Get it together. DAMN IT, Buck!

Buck bites the inside of his cheek until it bleeds and does not add carrots to the grocery list. Because apparently they cause emotional breakdowns, and Buck can’t afford one.

He puts himself to work. He ties the trash bag and then he wipes down the counters, and then he unties the trash bag to throw some paper towels in. He transfers the dishes from the sink to the dishwasher, quiet as he can, and locates a broom at the back of Eddie’s hall closet to sweep the floor.

When he’s emptying the dust pan into the trash (he’d tied and untied the bag again, but nobody’s counting, so what does it matter), Eddie says: “Are you OK?”

Buck jumps at least three feet in the air. He’s got the quads for it.

“Hey!” Buck whisper-shouts, turning to face Eddie. “What are you doing up?”

“Was wondering where you were.”

“Uh,” Buck looks around at the spotless kitchen and the broom in his hand. “Just, you know. Thought I’d be of service.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows at him. “Buck, the last thing I’m worried about is the state of my kitchen.”

“Right. That’s why I’m taking care of it. You know, so you don’t uh. You don’t have to.”

“OK.” Eddie squints at him like maybe a closer look will explain why Buck is sweeping his kitchen at 9:45pm three days after he got shot in the street in broad daylight. Buck sincerely hopes he doesn’t figure it out. He leans the broom against the counter and clips the dust pan to it in a rare display of tidiness. The pan slides down the broom handle until it hits the floor.

“When’s the last time you slept?”

Buck shrugs.

“Answer, please.”

God, what a dad.

(Not that Buck would know.)

“Uh… I think I got a few hours while you were in surgery.”

“That was two days ago, Buck,” Eddie says, frowning at him. “You look like a stiff breeze could knock you over.”

“Well, we’re inside.”

“Why are you being so stubborn? You need to sleep.”

“I’m just not really feeling it,” Buck says, folding his arms and resting his hip against the counter.

“Not giving you a choice,” Eddie says, looking extra grumpy because he can’t fold his arms. Unless you count the one in a sling as folded.

“I’m fine, Eddie. Don’t worry about me. You should be with Christopher.”

Eddie lifts his hand to his face and rubs his temples.

“Buck,” he says, “the only thing I need you to do right now is come to bed.”

“But I—“

“Come to bed, Buck.”

And it’s the repetition. It’s the look in Eddie’s eyes like a slow, early flame: the promise of a fire.

Buck’s throat is very, very dry.

“I… yeah. OK.”

Eddie gives him a small smile. Buck’s reeling. Because here’s the thing—they’ve shared a bed before. They’ve shared a too-small bunk at the station and a backseat and even a beanbag once (courtesy of a very poor decision on Buck’s part, but at least Chris likes it). But it’s always been “just bros.” It’s always been necessity. It’s been about efficiency and familiarity. Which maybe Buck is reading this all wrong and snuggling up with your best friend and his son after a near-death experience is totally no homo but… come to bed. Come to bed. Like it’s their bed. Like Buck belongs there.

Buck’s ears are ringing while he follows Eddie down the hallway to his bedroom. Their bedroom? He’s losing it.

The hallway light illuminates a strip of the room as they step inside. Buck can see Chris tucked in the sheets, curled into the rumpled spot where Eddie slid out to fetch Buck. This has to mean something, right? They’ve been dancing around and on the edge of something for so long, Buck doesn’t know how to interpret anything anymore. He loves Eddie, though. And probably the only way he’ll sleep right now is if Eddie’s in arm’s reach. So it doesn’t really matter what this is, because Buck will take any scrap of Eddie he can get, not just tonight, but always.

Eddie slips into the bed and scoots forward, leaving a space behind for Buck. Chris makes a heavy, sleepy sound and turns his head into his dad’s shoulder. Carefully, so, so carefully, Buck lowers himself onto the bed and fills the space Eddie made for him.

“What are you doing?” Eddie asks, exasperated.

Buck blinks at the ceiling. “What?”

“Idiot,” Eddie mutters. “Spoon me.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Buck, this bed is small enough as it is with one person. I know you’re hanging half off it right now.”

“You’re not even looking at me.”

“Call it intuition,” Eddie says, dry as the desert.

Buck gingerly turns on his side, his chest just a breath away from Eddie’s back. “I…” He swallows. “Where should I put my arm?”

“Buck, you must have done this before.”

“That’s your bad arm, Eds.”

Eddie shifts a little, his calf coming into contact with Buck’s shin. Buck breaks into a cold sweat.

“Shit, well… under the sling, then. Around my waist?”

Dry, dry, his throat is so dry.

Buck lifts his arm up and drapes it over Eddie’s waist. He shuffles in closer, pressing them together from head to toe. His nose is in Eddie’s hair, his dick is nestled in the curve of Eddie’s ass, his ankles are knocking into Eddie’s. Buck feels like he might reverberate out of his skin.

“You sure you wouldn’t rather have Ana here?” Buck whispers. His mouth is like, one inch from Eddie’s ear.

Eddie turns his head a little, so his ear actually brushes Buck’s lip. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Eddie says, “There’s no one in this world I want here more than you.”

Buck stutters on his next breath.

“I wish it’d been me,” he says, suddenly. Eddie has to know. Eddie probably already knows. Buck’s grateful, so goddamn grateful, that Eddie survived. And sure, part of it is that self-deprecating shit he’s been working through with this therapist: Eddie has more to live for, Eddie has a kid, Eddie is a better man than I’ll ever be. But mostly, it’s far simpler than that.

If Eddie had died, the sniper may as well have shot Buck too. Because Buck doesn’t know how to live without Eddie. He’d found that out ages ago, when he lost Eddie under fifty feet of mud and water.

Eddie’s next words are nearly a growl. “The only good thing to come out of all this,” he says, “is that you didn’t get hurt.”

“What are you—“

“After it happened, when I was… when I was lying there, I—I looked at you. I looked at you, Buck, and I was terrified. Not because I might die, but because if I did, who was going to protect you? Who was going to keep a sniper off your self-sacrificing, heroic ass, and make sure someone came home to Chris? Who was—“ Eddie cut himself off with a sigh. “I was worried about you.”

Buck feels like… like an unbroken, empty tundra. Like a fried electric socket. Like someone dropped him to the very bottom of a very deep well.

“Eddie, Eddie I—“

“Shh,” Eddie murmurs, as Buck shakes apart. As he bends his head to hide his tears in the nape of Eddie’s neck. As he bites his tongue to stay quiet and not wake Chris up. Eddie presses backward into Buck’s hold. “I know, I know.”

“I can’t lose you,” Buck grits out between several halting breaths.

“You won’t,” Eddie says.

“I almost did.”

“You had my back.” Buck’s throat makes an awful, wheezing sound as he fights a losing battle against crying. “You got me out of there. You saved me.”

“I love you,” Buck says, losing the fight against that too.

“Buck… I…” Eddie sounds like someone knocked the wind out of him.

“Sorry,” Buck hurries to say, chest icing over with panic. “Sorry I just—“

“I love you,” Eddie interrupts. “I do. I know it took me a long time to realize, but… I’ve been in love with you, Buck.”

“Oh my god,” Buck says. I mean, what else do you say to that? No wonder Eddie froze up. Buck is in shock. “Is this real?”

“I hope so,” Eddie says. “And if it isn’t, then I’ll just have to tell you when we wake up.”

Buck feels fit to burst with more emotions than he can name. Relief, joy, fear, disbelief, pin-prickly. It feels like another miracle.

“Deal,” Buck says. And places a kiss to the fatal, devastating spot behind Eddie’s ear.

Eddie is the first thing Buck sees when he wakes up. “Good morning” are the first words he hears.

And then:

“Just so you know, I love you.”

#buddie #long post #ray writes #i know nothing about gunshot wounds so sorry if this is wildly inaccurate

[sirowsky]

The Lost Island

Chapter 13 - Found Homes

Summary: Marcus finds himself trapped between trying to save you and keeping the rest of the Heroics from thinking that he's an enemy.

Author's Note: Thank you all for being so patient and understanding! This part is conversation heavy, and something of a game-changer I guess. Hope you'll like it <3

Rating: Mature 18+ONLY Warnings: Cursing, angst. Word Count: 7430 Masterlist (this story) Author’s Masterlist

In the Heroics medical bay, Ms. Granada was arguing with one of the senior physicians on staff, while monitoring Marcus, who was still asleep from the tranquilizer.

“Dr. Pinto, are you telling me that we can’t keep him sedated? How many times have you scanned and tested this man? You know every cell in his body, for pete’s sake.”

“It appears as though his powers have… changed, somehow. They’re burning through everything I give him so fast that it soon won’t make any difference how much I push into his system.”

“But powers can’t change, doctor. Not after twenty years.”

“Not to our knowledge, but his has, all the same.”

As if to accentuate his words, all electronic devices suddenly fried, even though the patient was still asleep. Dr. Pinto was getting truly concerned now.

“Ms. Granada, why do you need him sedated at all? He’s one of ours.”

“And yet he tried to keep our people from securing a dangerous alien. And now both you and members of the team are telling me that I can’t even trust his powers anymore. I need time to investigate, to understand what’s really going on here.”

“Well, I think your time just ran out.”

A kind of pressure had settled into the room, and small sparks were beginning to fly in between Marcus and anything metal around him.

“Damn it. He’s gonna be so pissed.”

“I do believe he already is, Miss.”

<><><><><>

Marcus woke up already boiling with anger, sitting up to find a doctor he knew well, and his boss standing beside his bed, although a good six feet away. The atmosphere in the room was already pressing, but once he was fully conscious, the entire room was suddenly buzzing.

“Where is she?”

They both looked a bit scared of him at first, but hearing that seemed to utterly confuse them, as if it was literally the last thing that they’d ever expected him to say. Ms. Granada was the first of them to offer an answer.

“Oh, Missy? She’s with your mother at home, we didn’t see fit to bring her here until-…”

“No… damnit…”

He hadn’t even thought of her, he was so focused on you. And hearing that she was with Anita, he allowed himself to keep focusing on you, since your situation was much more dire.

“I’m glad she’s alright, but where’s Pita?”

They exchanged a look which he didn’t like, and then the doctor addressed him.

“Marcus, I need you to try and help me understand something. When she was brought in, Sec was showing no signs of cognitive function. No response to sensory input or any type of drugs. But when we scanned her brain, the electrical activity in there was off the charts. Now, that kind of reading would ordinarily suggest a brain that’s merely asleep but still functioning normally, whereas Sec appears to be in a coma, which simply doesn’t make any sense.”

Practically everyone in this building referred to you as Sec, because you had this slightly mean way of always introducing yourself only as Security to any new people in the building, because it allowed you to gauge their responses better. Whereas introducing yourself as Head of security always earned you automatic respect, making it harder to evaluate their character. By making yourself nameless and without rank, people tended to think of you as a mostly insignificant foot-soldier and lowered their guard around you. It was perhaps an unkind approach, given the deception required, but it was also terribly effective. Dr. Pinto handed him a tablet with the readings he’d previously mentioned, and Marcus studied them closely.

“Are you sure this is accurate?”

“Quite. We re-did them three times. Why?”

“Because I’m pretty sure this isn’t her doing.”

He kept studying the chart of electric activity as it repeated itself on a loop on the tablet, and the more he looked at it, the more convinced he became that it was alien. There was just something about the rhythm to it that reminded him of how they sounded when they spoke telepathically. The doctor, however, was only more confused now.

“But… then what could it be coming from? It’s a scan of her brain, we got these readings from her.”

“The fucking thing is still alive; how many times do I have to kill that damned island?”

That caught Ms. Granada’s attention.

“What do you mean, you killed the island? You’re not powerful enough for that. Are you?”

He ignored her questions when his thoughts took off with this new information.

“Where is she?”

“I’m not gonna tell you that until you answer me.”

He glared at her, and the room began to darken, but she held her ground. It wasn’t until the fluorescent lights were dimmed to less than half their usual brightness, that the doctor grew nervous enough to answer. It would seem Pinto would rather have his boss furious with him, than an unpredictable super with unknown powers.

“Three rooms further down the hall.”

He all but jumped out of bed and headed for the door, wearing only hospital trousers and ripping the electrodes off his bare chest as he went. But when he got there, the doors wouldn’t open, and Ms. Granada, who had followed him there, tried to explain.

“You can’t see her yet, there are too many questions still unanswered, I need-…ah!”

She cut herself off with a small and surprised sound, when dark threads of energy effortlessly forced the double doors open, breaking them in the process, and he walked in to find an entire medical team around your bed. They paid no mind to his entrance, and kept working while he approached the bed slowly, terrified that he’d find you in an even worse state than before. But as he rounded the foot of the bed, not disturbing the staff, and got to your side, he found you in exactly the same condition as he’d last seen you.

“I need you all to step away from her for a moment.”

A low hum of voices that had filled the room from their quiet speculations, turned into deafening silence as everyone stopped talking and turned towards him with raised eyebrows.

“I have no idea what might be about to happen, but there’s every chance it could get very dangerous, so please, step back.”

“Marcus, what are you gonna do?”

He ignored Granada’s question and took a moment to consider whether this was likely to hurt you, while the staff moved all the way back to the broken doors. It was possible that it would, but he had to know if he was right. He took your hand and allowed himself to be comforted by the feel of your skin, warm and alive against his own, before he gathered up just enough electricity to give you a jolt that would pass through your entire body. One single string from his shield-energy slipped from his hand, and he watched it go from semi-transparent and slightly pearly white, into deep purple, as the dark energy joined it. It crept along your arm and over to your chest, settling over your heart, and he took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, cariño.”

The bolt was significant enough to make your body jump off the bed for a fraction of a second, and pain crept into your expression. But beyond that, nothing happened. He stared closely at you, looking for any sign of change or just the tiniest reaction, while his boss expressed her displeasure with his experiment.

“What the hell were you thinking? You could’ve killed her, and since when do you have that kind of electric powers?”

Everyone, including the staff over by the door, jumped backwards when you suddenly sat up and ripped all the monitoring devices off your skin. Your movements were fast and efficient, but automated, robotic almost, and Marcus could tell that it wasn’t really you. When you were done with all the wires, you swung your legs over the side and stood up, and he instinctively got in your way, putting his hands on your shoulders to stop you. But something glimmered in the air around you then, and a mere second later, a splitting pain in his head brought him down to his knees and shortly after, everyone else went down as well. It was so intense that even the pressure of his own eyelids against his eyeballs was excruciating and searing sharp pain, as if being burned with a white-hot iron rod, travelled down his neck and spine, making him cramp up. He fell to the side on the floor, in an angle that allowed him to see you as you slowly started walking for the door, although the tears caused by both the pain and the terrible brightness of the room, made everything blurry and all the colours melted into one another. But he saw you stop before you got to the broken entrance, and he blinked the tears away to see what looked like a shiver or something go through you, and then you turned back to look at him. And it was you. His Pita, and the sweetest badass of a woman he’d ever met. For a moment it was you looking back at him, and then the muddiness returned to your eyes, and you were gone again. Seeing you, even for a moment, was enough to make his heart override his brain and nerves-system, and he turned his powers on himself, trying to burn what he assumed were some sort of spores, out of his body, and the pain disappeared as abruptly as it had started. It took him a while to get his body moving again, though, and while he was still trying to coerce his already sore and spent muscles into working properly, you were once more heading for the door. Using the threads of his shield, he gave each of the medical staff and Ms. Granada a measured jolt, to rid them of the crap too, and it worked. However, the burn of the electricity wouldn’t help you, because he’d already shocked you and the stuff was clearly still alive in there, but he needed to do something, even if it was just to restrain you so that he would at least be able to keep track of you. But before he could do anything, a movement in his periphery caught his attention, and he turned his head to make sure that it wasn’t what it had looked like. It seemed that he was out of luck, though, because what he found was a small black thing, more liquid than creature, but moving with definitive purpose. Towards you.

“Nobody move.”

They were all still rolling or crawling about on the floor, suffering the aftereffects of spasms and cramps, but still, everyone almost completely froze at the sight of the thing, and an almost tangible chill went through the room.

“W-what is that thing?”

He was staring at it, following its every movement, so he answered Ms. Granada without looking at her.

“A piece of a gateway that seems to also be a sentient being. If you spook it, or act fearful or aggressive around it, it can kill you.”

A pressured silence followed his words, and they all watched the thing climb onto the doorframe and then just sit there for a few seconds, while everyone held their breath as you kept walking towards it. And then, out of seemingly nowhere, hundreds of others joined it, turning the entire doorway into a minor wall of moving black goo, and suddenly Marcus knew what it was about to do. He tried to get to his feet to pull you away from it, even though he knew that he was too far away to get there fast enough.

“Please, don’t…!”

But it was too late. The portal fell forwards, engulfing you into its black void, and then instantly vanished, taking you with it.

“What just happened?”

It was Dr. Pinto this time, but it didn’t matter who spoke, Marcus wouldn’t have answered anyone at that moment. He dropped back down to the floor, wondering when and how this fucking nightmare was ever gonna end.

It was over an hour later that he finally decided to speak again, despite the entire Heroics team taking turns trying to pry any piece of information out of him. They were in a conference room and he was back in his uniform, sitting calmly at the head of the table while they berated him with questions. He’d tuned them out while he tried to compile all the information that he had, to make sure that he understood everything, and that what he was about to suggest was the best course of action considering everything he still didn’t know.

“They come from a planet called Eqlo’e, but don’t ask me how to spell it.”

He’d cut into a tirade from Vox, ending in a question of whether to dunk a bucket of water over his head to see if that might get his attention, and everyone fell silent and stopped moving around restlessly as they listened. He settled deeper into his seat as he patiently began to explain about their home-world and the land-living and how the Ozsha had come to end up on Earth, continuing into the more recent events largely without being interrupted with questions. He’d gotten as far as killing the island and thus breaking the cloak before Tech became the first to break the silence of the group.

“Damn… you really were there for weeks. That cloak must’ve put the island on its own time somehow. But if six weeks for you were just one day out here, how long have the tribe really been trapped there?”

He hadn’t considered that, but it made him think back on their many conversations, looking for clues.

“Good question. I know none of them have ever seen any modern technology, not even tv:s. Radios were never mentioned. But they were all under the impression that they’d been there for fifty-two years.”

“Interesting. If the time-displacement was constant, they would’ve only been there for about a year and two months in our time, which doesn’t track with them never having seen televisions. Could your arrival have offset something in the island’s energy-signature?”

“Sure, but perhaps that’s a topic for a later discussion. What I’m trying to get to with all this, is that the aliens aren’t our enemies, and whether they broke our laws or not, they didn’t know it, and they should get to go home. They might very well be the last of their kind and they can’t survive here.”

Ms. Granada was the one to answer that.

“I don’t disagree with you, Moreno, but by your own admission they’re guilty of knowingly murdering possibly hundreds or even thousands of people.”

“Yes, but what punishment could we ever condemn them to that would be worse than what they’re already facing?”

She sighed and apparently decided to change the subject.

“Tell me about Sec. What’s happened to her?”

Now it was Marcus’ turn to sigh, because this was still a major question-mark for him too.

“That I can’t fully answer. What I know is that when we got back from Eqlo’e, we had a bit of a… personal moment… and her soul…”

He paused when extremely vivid memories of your pain flashed before his eyes and he had to take a steadying breath, which seemed to make everyone uneasy. He was usually the most level-headed of the team, under pressure, able to stay calm and work the problem no matter how bad things got, so seeing him begin to fall to pieces at a mere memory was somewhat jarring to them. But it was important to make them understand that you were special, and not just to him.

“She’s not a super, you know that. But she has this power in her soul that I can’t really explain. It’s like she reflexively reaches out and touches people with it, like a sixth sense more than an ability. That’s how she’s been able to read us all so well, and always know when danger is close. I couldn’t tell you how, but when she got really happy, the island felt her soul and managed to latch on to it somehow, and it tried to kill her by ripping it out of her, probably in retribution for her using its own spores to kill the Ozsha. Now, I’m not sure how much of her is still in there, or how long she can live like this, but I know that that damn thing somehow latched onto her. Just like I know that if it stays in her, she’ll die.”

Dr. Pinto was still present and was the first to break the eerie silence that followed his attempt at an explanation.

“Wait, are you telling us that she has a thing inside her that used to be an island, and that thing is what made us feel like our heads were exploding?”

“…Yeah. Look, I know how it sounds but the Ozsha can manipulate water, it makes sense that an evolved version of their mother could as well.”

“I don’t follow. It’s rocks and dirt and plants. How does it even think?”

“Even back on their home-world the islands were more alive than what we think of nature to be. Yes, it’s comprised of largely the same elements and materials as we’re used to, but with a much greater complexity. Even some stones there are capable of creating a sentient being when introduced to a certain substance. Stones. Coming alive. The islands didn’t just serve as a way for the merepeople to get their nutrients, they shielded and nurtured their eggs and kept predators away by releasing spores that were harmful to all creatures except Ozsha. All by way of a natural instinct, grown over eons of shared evolution. I don’t think that this island ever had a brain, the way we think of brains, I think it had a kind of hive-mind. A collective of shared information from every living thing it housed and fed, all of which would’ve evolved as it did.”

This time, it was Crush that spoke up.

“But how does that make it capable of grabbing someone’s soul and yanking it out of their bodies?”

“I don’t think it could’ve done it to anyone but Pita. Because of her unusual aura. It penetrates everything, even my shield, even my dark powers. Maybe those black rocks served as antennas, maybe it used some form of magnetism or energy-field that I couldn’t perceive, just like the cloaking. Whatever the case might be, clearly, the island feared death to the extent that it felt compelled to throw whatever life-force it had left, into her temporarily vacant body to try and save itself.”

Red Lightning was next to join the conversation.

“But then… where is her soul? If it was pushed out, where did it go?”

He couldn’t answer that, and he was terrified of the many possibilities that had crossed his mind, to the point that he didn’t even dare voice them for fear of somehow making them real. Red seemed to perceive his pain, but she still asked one more question, that made everyone noticeably uncomfortable.

“And how can we hope to find something that we’ve never even been able to prove actually exists?”

They all liked you, but realising the futility of lingering on an unanswerable question, Tech changed the subject.

“What do you mean when you say, your ‘dark powers’?”

Miracle beat him to answering that, in his typically dramatic fashion.

“Oh, they’re dark alright. And I for one, would like to know just how they could’ve changed so completely in just one day?!”

“Are you incapable of paying attention? How many times have we been over the fact that Pita and I have been there for six weeks? None of this happened over night!”

“Okay, chill! It really does seem like that to us, you know.”

Marcus drew a deep breath and then released it with the sense of another hundred tons landing on his shoulders. All he wanted was to get back to the island and try and save you, but he needed the team, and Ms. Granada, to understand why it was so important that the Ozsha came with him, and he couldn’t do that without explaining as much as he could first.

“My ability to utilise electromagnetic fields and magnetism was never my actual power, just a side-effect that I’ve mistakenly thought was my gift ever since I was a boy. When I forced that power away from myself in order to get the influence of the merepeople out of my head, my actual powers emerged. It’s an energy-field that comes out of me in threads that I can chose to weave together into a shield, or just allow one single thread to light my path.”

While he spoke, he let a few threads slip from his hands, semi-transparent and sparkling slightly with white little embers around them.

“I can let each thread envelop another person or thing, protecting them even as they move individually, although there’s a limit to how far away I can reach.”

Finding the darkness wasn’t difficult when so much fear was swimming around inside of him, and he let it trickle out into the existing threads, turning them purple before everyone’s watching eyes.

“This happened when I unintentionally combined the electromagnetism with the shield, in pure desperation to save Pita. When I get really angry or scared, the combined forces of the shield and the magnetic fields I disrupt, creates a dark energy, like a cloud except not made of moisture. That cloud can hold massive amounts of electric energy that I can use my threads to direct wherever I want it to go.”

Red cocked her head to the side, hearing that.

“I can generate my own electricity and if I happen to be in a storm, I can utilize the electric energy around me. But what you’re talking about is manipulating the planet’s own magnetic fields into gathering energy specifically where you need it. That’s practically limitless power.”

“It would be, if I was more than human. It’s still limited by how much I can take. But listen… can we please table this discussion until later, because Pita’s life is still in danger and the longer we sit here, her chances keep getting smaller.”

He turned to Granada, finding her crossing her arms as she already knew where this was heading.

“I can’t just let them go. And you haven’t even explained why you need them?”

“Because even though it’s evolved, they understand the island better than we ever could. They will know how to get it to leave Pita and go back home with them.”

“Just like that? They’ll just magically know…”

Marcus stifled a growl. He was absolutely certain that the only way to fix all this was to put you, the Ozsha and the portal together, but he had no fucking clue why.

“Please. Trust me. There was a time when you needed our trust, when you were the outsider from another world, deceiving everyone. And even after we learned that we chose to keep trusting you.”

“Because we were and are helping you. Not killing you.”

For some reason, that was the moment when his patience simply just ended.

“Gran… This is the last time I’m gonna ask. Either release them to my custody, or I’m gonna take them by force.”

“I don’t care how powerful you think you are now; you can’t take on the entire team.”

He squared his shoulders, staring at her with pure steel in his eyes.

“Watch me.”

He turned his back to her and started walking out of the room, and she immediately sent everyone after him. His ordinary bright shield was enough to keep their powers away from him, but when Crush rammed him, he was hurled through three walls and ended up in the main entrance hall. Well, at least there was plenty of room. But also, lots of people. The shield had protected him from taking any harm, but his temper flared at being held back from what he needed to do, and therefor he let the darkness gather around him until the air was so thick with it that he couldn’t even see his own hands in front of his face. But the threads told him where the walls and any obstacles were, allowing him to move unhindered through it, while the Heroics were completely blinded. He made the most of that temporary advantage, as Vox’s soundwaves were able to shift the cloud away from herself and darted towards the sub-levels and holding cells. But after he’d left the cloud behind, he rounded a corner to find Miracle, Blinding Fast and Crush waiting for him, having flown there in anticipation of which route he’d take.

“Don’t do this, Mo. You have no idea what they might do if you set them lose. If they kill someone, that’s on you.”

“I’m not gonna give them a chance to do that, Crush.”

Miracle raised his brows in exaggerated incredulity.

“No? Well, great. For god’s sake, Marcus, think this through! How are you even gonna get all twenty-two of them out there, into the middle of the ocean?”

“I don’t care how!!”

Lightning sprung from his right shoulder into the wall next to him, making it crack from floor to ceiling.

“I’ll steal a boat, or a plane or fucking swim there if I have to!”

Another bolt, this time from his hand, hit the ceiling right above the three of them, and they all took a step back, just as the rest of the team caught up behind him. But then Blinding took a few steps forwards again, fixing Marcus with a compassionate expression.

“You really do love her.”

He answered that by letting several bolts strike all around himself, creating something of a cage that none of them dared to stick their hands through, but which also broke the floor he was standing on. Only the segment that he was standing on. Seconds later, he fell through, landing right smack in the middle of the holding area, and quickly raised a shield over the hole so that no one could follow him that way. The Ozsha were in water-tanks that were locked from all sides, just big enough for them to move in, and able to be emptied quickly from several drains in the floor, which for the moment were sealed. He approached the Ixo, wasting no time.

“How long can you survive without access to water?”

The creature didn’t respond, only glared spitefully at him.

“I don’t have time for this, and neither do you. I’m trying to get you home.”

“You put us here.”

“No, I didn’t. But you have no reason to believe me, I know that, and I don’t expect you to. But what you can believe is that I will do anything to protect my woman. You’ve already seen it. I destroyed your mother for her. And now I need your help to save her, and if it works, you might get your mother back too.”

“You are a liar. You burned mother until there was nothing left.”

“There is one thing left, but it’s inside of Pita. That’s why she’s lost, because your mother invaded her body, trying to save itself, and I have no idea how to get it out.”

The lord seemed to think hard for a few beats.

“It cannot do such things.”

“It was never supposed to be able to survive here at all, but it did. By constantly evolving and adapting. I don’t know how or what it did to save itself, but I know… I know that this is what we have to do. Please, Ixo.”

The creature deliberated for an alarmingly long time, staring at Marcus the whole time, while he was nervously eyeing the corridor.

“Help… in exchange for help? This is what you said before.”

“Yes. I get you back there, you get whatever might be left of your mother and you go home.”

Another pause, and now there were people behind the door to the holding area, so he put a shield over that one too, while he waited, getting more antsy every passing second. Although, he was surprised that Crush hadn’t just barrelled through a wall to get to him already.

“No more than twenty minutes out of water, or we die.”

“Okay. Countdown starting now.”

He flipped a switch on a control panel, and all the cells began to drain of water. As soon as he could open them without flooding the floor, he unlocked them and let the aliens out. They were all taller than him and physically perhaps three times as strong as an ordinary man, but now they were fish out of water, and their strength would soon begin to fade. They all gathered in the hallway, looking to him for their next move, but he was suddenly drawing a blank.

“What do we do now, human?”

The lord was even more dependent on water than the rest, because there was so much more of him to oxygenate, so he was already noticeably affected.

“We have to wait here.”

Huh? Where did that come from? He hadn’t felt himself about to say anything at all, but once it was out, he knew it to be true.

“We cannot just stand here, others will come and lock us back up, or we will die.”

“No, that’s not gonna happen.”

“You speak as though you know this as fact.”

He was about to agree with that, when the portal appeared at the end of the corridor. All the Ozsha scurried away from it, trying to hide behind Marcus and the Ixo, clearly terrified, which was a problem because that was their route back to the island.

“There’s no reason to fear it now, it’s not gonna whisk you away to some other unknown place. It’s gonna take us back to the island, exactly where we need to go.”

“Again, you speak of knowledge you cannot possibly have. This abomination took us from our world.”

“Yes, but by accident. It never meant to split you away from your kin, nor to bring you here. It had been asked by a scientist to bring you to a place where your people could thrive, and if not for the land-living’s interference, the portal would’ve done just that.”

“We tried to approach it after, to take us back, but terrible fear gripped us before we ever got near it.”

“It felt threatened by you because of what the land-living did to it. You have to remember that this creature is still just a baby, and it was a new-born back then. Almost from the moment it was created, someone was experimenting with it, trying to control it and decide where it should go. And for an alien baby, all humanoid creatures are the same species, regardless of colour or the shape of our tails. Consider the fact that it doesn’t even have any eyes and for all we know can’t even see us, only perceive something about us, and you can’t fault it for being frightened.”

They all listened closely and seemed to grow somewhat less tense as he spoke.

“You truly do trust this being?”

“Yes, I do. And we’re out of time, so I’m gonna go through, and if you really want to go home, you should come with me. Especially since my shields are gonna disappear the moment that I do.”

He didn’t wait for them to deliberate some more, and instead just walked up to the portal, greeted it like an old friend and stepped through entirely without fear. He emerged on the other side, unsurprised to find himself back on the island, and unspeakably relieved that the first thing he saw there, was you. The portal had dropped you both back on the beach and you stood there, as if in a trance, staring out over the ocean, wearing only a hospital gown. Just seconds after he’d oriented himself, he heard splashes in the water as the goo had seen fit to drop the Ozsha into their element, although merely six feet from the dry sand, before it reappeared just a little bit to his left. He stepped away from you and once more approached the Ixo.

“You need to connect to her, with your mind.”

He gestured to you and the lord’s limited features turned sour at the mere sight of you. But to his credit, he didn’t let the anger take hold. Marcus watched as he turned every ounce of his concentration at you, and then visibly flinched, a second before all the Ozsha did the same, and then eagerly moved closer to the beach.

“Mother… you were right. It lives in her still.”

He was relieved to have it confirmed, but that was only part of the battle.

“You need to convince it to move to you instead, you have to invite it into your body.”

“I do not know how to accomplish this.”

Marcus didn’t like what he was about to say, but there was no getting around it.

“You have to put all four hands on her… gently… then just… let it know it’s welcome within you.”

“How?”

“God, I don’t know, I’m not the one with telepathy. Just try.”

The creature used his arms to crawl out of the water and right up to you, before rising up on his tail and lifting his hands towards you. Each one was about the size of a manhole cover if he spread his fingers.

“Gently… please.”

He paused to exchange a nervous glance with Marcus, before he carefully placed first the hands of his lower arms over your hips, and then the upper ones along your sides, from the shoulders down.

“Now what?”

“Just… try and find the mother in there. Her spores have fed and cared for you your entire life, you know them better than anything, so try to feel them through Pita’s skin.”

“Yes. Yes, I can feel her! What do I do?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake! How could he possibly expect Marcus to know that? But then, he suddenly did know.

“With your mind, reach into Pita’s mind and say these words: atro gi’e na’eqlo’e.”

The Ixo all but threw his head back towards him, and the words that sounded in his mind were loud and accusatory.

“How do you know these words? These are Ozsha words, we do not share our language, ever!”

But Marcus had no idea how he knew them, so he just pointed at you with a defeated expression, hoping to convey just how helpless he was in all this. It seemed to work, because the lord turned his attention back to you, hopefully to say those words, and only moments later, you started trembling against his hands. It only lasted for a few seconds and then a bright green trail of spores left your body through your nose, and was absorbed into the creature’s skin, before you went limp. He had to seriously restrain himself from running to you, because you were still in the Ixo’s grip and even a light squeeze from the creature could crush you, which he might be more inclined to do now that he had no further use for you. The lord seemed almost locked in place, just staring at you, for what felt like minutes, and then he slowly let his lower arms release you, before gently placing your unmoving body in the sand. Seeing you like that, so unresponsive even now that you’d presumably been freed, made Marcus feel daggers of ice strike his heart. If you were still in there you should wake up on your own. Without knowing that he’d moved at all, he was suddenly kneeling next to you, tears already forming in his eyes, when the lord spoke to him.

“I can not feel her mind. She has given us back our mother, and for that we are grateful. But we can not save her.”

Moreno glanced over his shoulder to make sure that the portal was still there. He’d made the Ozsha a promise, and he intended to keep it.

“When you approach the portal, do it without fear, and without sinister purpose, and it will take you where you need to go. It doesn’t need explanations or reasons; it knows everything about you already. It only requires your respect in payment for its assistance.”

“You will still help? Even though I could not help you?”

“I promised you that I would. But you should hurry, my people will be here soon, and they still want you to answer for your crimes.”

“And do you not want the same?”

“The way I see it, you’ve already paid enough.”

“Thank you, human.”

He watched as the aliens left the water one by one, crawling through the portal and vanishing, the Ixo waiting until all his people were safely across before he joined them, and the portal disappeared. He was now all alone, and somehow surrounded by death, but he couldn’t absorb yours yet. Placing a hand in yours, he found you warm and soft to his touch. But then a small spark jumped from his hand to yours, and it was strong enough to sting. He reflexively pulled his hand back, and it wasn’t until several seconds later that he realized that something had changed. It was that thing of not knowing you’d had something until it was already gone, and the sudden understanding made him suck in a sharp breath. The way he’d known things just like you always did, the conviction and confidence that he was right, the patient negotiations he’d tried when Ms. Granada had worked to keep him away from the Ozsha… it was all you. That was where your soul had taken refuge when the island had stolen your body. The brief moment that he’d seen you be yourself again, back at HQ, had been your attempt to reclaim what belonged to you, but the strength of those spores must have been too much, forcing you back to him. An unwilling but desperate passenger, doing everything you could to get the pieces in place that would give the greatest chance of survival. Your hands twitched just before your eyes slowly opened, and it was you. Not muddy and soulless you, just the regular pain-in-his-ass-you, and a flood of emotions hit him as though a dam had broken inside of him.

“Fucking hell, Pita! Don’t ever do that to me again! What the… I can’t even… God dammit, I love you so much, I can’t handle all this shit! I can’t fucking breathe…”

If he’d been able to control himself in the slightest, there would’ve been less cursing and lower volume to his words, but this was raw emotion bursting out of him like a volcanic eruption. Even after the first few words he was shaking with the masses of fear that were finally leaving him, and he cried and sobbed his way through the rest of it, half-screaming in his uncontrolled state. You, on the other hand, were perfectly calm. You hadn’t actually been harmed, so you were just lying there, staring up at him, blinking a few times as you listened and took in what he was largely failing to say, before offering your own thoughts.

“You are so beautiful, Marcus. Inside and out.”

The words were so simple, spoken with deep affection and quite a lot of joy. But hearing your voice, let alone those words, tipped him over some edge he didn’t even know he was standing close to, and he felt strangely overheated, just from how much he was feeling. Seeing that seemed to tip you over some edge of your own and he saw tears form in your eyes too. Like a child seeking comfort, he laid down almost on top of you, looking for every scrap of affection you had to offer. You wrapped your arms around him and held him to you, pressing soft kisses into his hair and the sides of his head, whispering endearments and reassurances in his ears. It didn’t take long for the overload of emotions to burn itself out, and after a while you were sitting side by side, leaning against each other with his arm over your shoulders to keep you warm in your less than adequate attire. The sun was going down and with it, the temperature as well.

“Are you really okay now, cariño?”

“Yeah. I’m so sorry you had to see me like that. I know it affects you differently because of your wife.”

He let his arm tighten around your shoulders, and he sighed with a sad tinge to the sound.

“I thought that losing her was the worst thing that could ever happen. But this was worse. Because I already knew how badly it would hurt, how long it would take until it might start becoming manageable. And if I’m honest… as much as I loved her… it’s different with you. Now that I’ve discovered and surrendered to it, the way I feel is somehow so much more intense, more crippling. I don’t know if it’s because I’m older now than when I met her, and know myself better, or if it has something to do with the epic struggle it took to get us here. All I know, now that you’re not whispering in my head anymore, is that I can’t lose you without losing myself too.”

“I feel the same. And to me it’s new and terrifying.”

“Every new love feels like that.”

“I suppose I wouldn’t know.”

You didn’t sound sad saying that. It was more like you just realized that it was true. It made him sad, though. For the loneliness you’d suffered without even knowing that life wasn’t supposed to feel like that. But before he could tell you that, you chuckled.

“We were back in LA today. Home. And now we’re back here.”

“Yeah. Let’s hope it’s for the last time. How much do you remember about today?”

“Not much in the way of details, but I know the broad strokes. Enough to know that Granada is gonna get an earful when I see her again.”

“She was following protocol.”

“I know, I helped to develop some of those protocols. But when she’s tried to communicate that an alien entity has taken over her body and there’s only way to get it back, from within the love of her life, then she can talk to me about fucking protocols.”

Marcus smiled widely hearing that.

“Now that you’re not in me anymore, I can feel how much of my anger and frustration that was really yours, and I gotta admit, I’m kinda looking forward to seeing you take her down a notch.”

You smiled too but kept staring ahead. He let his fingers trail your jaw, beckoning you to look at him, and when you did, your eyes were so bright and expectant that what was meant to be a tender kiss, turned into a heated clash of lips and tongues.

“Hrm-hrm. You two have some explaining to do.”

You pulled apart at the sound of the familiar voice, to find Crushing standing right in front of you, arms crossed and an eyebrow cocked, but quite a lot of mirth in those dark brown eyes. He was the fastest flyer so of course; he’d gotten there first. But his merriment quickly faded when his eyes stopped to stare at something behind you.

“Starting with what the hell that thing is doing?”

You both looked behind you at the same time, and found the portal standing there, which didn’t alarm either of you since you completely trusted it now. But then, without any kind of warning, it swallowed you both, and when it spat you back out a moment later, you were sitting on the floor in a house. A house he knew. It took him a second to clock it, because it was just so unexpected to suddenly be there, but a loud yelp followed by a squeal and then a projectile shooting at him across the living room table, made his mind catch up. His house. His living room. His Missy.

—————

Link to Chapter 14

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