#stone needs to be down bad and hating ever second of it. wade should get to be a bit cheeky

[hiding-under-the-willow]

You should totally draw some stipple again, me and the 3 other fans would be very excited.

Yeah me and you and the two other remaining fans would be pretty excited about that huh

anyways.

[chickensarentcheap]

Sanctuary -Chapter 41

WARNINGS: Dark Tyler.  Angsty Tyler,  I suppose.

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @thorsbathroomchicken​, @alievans007​, @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @valkyrie-of-the-light​

The storage facility lies on the outskirts of town; in the middle of a derelict portion of an industrial complex.  Abandoned warehouses flanking it to both the east and west, long abandoned train tracks to the north and a sewage treatment plant to the south.  Weeds manage to thrive within the chips and cracks of old concrete,  litter caught up in the rusted metal of a chain link fence. There hasn't been true signs of life in these parts for years; the factories that were still thriving were more than a kilometre, and no one aside from those wanting to take belongings out of their lockers ever visited the area.  The sense and appearance of abandonment and neglect adding something dark and dreary to an already sinister plan

He's the last to arrive; parking the SUV among the small group of vehicles already gathered by the front gate.  The security system for the facility had long ago been vandalized; someone had broken into the security system and stolen all the intricate parts, rendering the keypad useless. All that exists now are loose wires and scattered bits of metal,  the gate permanently left open for anyone...whether it be thief or transient...to gain access.  He kills the ignition and checks his phone; reading through unopened text messages, the engine softly ticking as is it cools. Letting his wife know that he'd arrived safe and sound at his first destination, but not giving any details.

The less she knows the better; some things are better left unspoken, some plans better left just between the people actually getting their hands dirty.  All his resolve is gone. All his patience shredded. Any and all mercy has ceased to exist. He's at peace with his decision; resolved, determined, calm.  With not even the slightest bit of hesitation or an inkling of remorse haunting him.   And he tells himself that this could have been avoided had McMann not crossed that line.  If he'd simply had the balls to go right to the source of his issues instead of taking a coward's way out. This is on him now. Whatever happens...whatever plan begins to unravel...the moment Tyler steps up of the car, it is a fate that the other man has brought onto himself.  No one will find him out here.  No one will be able to hear the suffering, the begging, the pleading. No one will be able to come to his aid. And in the end, when he finally thinks it's over and he's about to be shown mercy, he'll be handed over to begin another nightmare all in itself.

He sends her a second message. Telling her that he loves her. Reassuring her that everything is going to be okay.  That he'll message her once the second part of that day's mission is done and McMann has been taken care up; holed up somewhere under lock and key, where he'll be kept until the IRA has made up their mind.  And he adds : 'I'll see you when I see you', the exact words he's used for the past four years every time he abandons her and their children to go and solve someone else's problems.  

“What do you think?”  Yaz asks, when Tyler joins him at the front gate.  

He'd been there for an hour now, arranging things exactly as had been requested. Their own surveillance feed that they can view from their cell phones or their laptops; cameras placed at the front gate, the doorway of the unit Tyler had rented using a fake name and stolen credit card, and three within the actual storage locker itself. There'd be eyes and ears on McMann twenty four hours a day; no one aside from those who knew of the storage locker and the plans for it would be going in or out. The situation would be controlled. Monitored. Right down to the very second.  And if he somehow managed to get away and make a run for it, he wouldn't get far; Yaz would be installing an ankle monitor the moment McMann arrived on site.

“I think it's perfect,” he replies, as they fall in step alongside of each other and pass through the gate.  Dirt and gravel crackling under the soles of his combat boots; kicking away any wayward rubbish that lies in his path. The storm the night before had brought the humidity; sweat glistens on his brow and trickles down his temples; the back of his t-shirt already damp.

“Esme's okay?”

“She's sick. Can't keep anything down. Not even water.”

“The baby or...?”

“Could be the baby. Could be stress. Could be nerves. She's been sick before; with all the others. But nothing this bad.”

“A sign maybe? That something is wrong? With the baby?”

Tyler frowns. “Why  the fuck would you even say that?”

“I'm not saying that there is something wrong. And I'm not wishing or hoping there is. I'm just saying that...fuck...I don't even know what I'm saying.”  He's nervous. Despite all the jobs that he's assisted with, all the perilous and high stakes situations he's been in, the nerves have been rubbed raw. This is a first for him. When they'll actually be inflicting the damage instead of trying to end it.

“she's fine,” Tyler says, more an attempt to reassure himself than Yaz. “The baby's fine. She's just freaking out. She's thousands of miles away from home. From her kids. She's worried about them, worried about Ovi and Chloe, worried about me. This fucking sucks, mate. That she has to go through all of this. Especially now. This should be a happy time. We just found out we're having a baby. We should be ecstatic. And instead we're dealing with this bullshit.  She deserves better than this. So does that baby.”

“Well at least we can kind of see the finish line now,”  Yaz reasons. “We're a hell of a lot closer than we were two days ago, that's for sure. Heard anything from the IRA yet?”

“Flynn said it would be two days at the earliest, four at the latest. I don't expect to hear anything from them for a while.”

The air inside the storage building is stifling; humidity hanging heavily. The air conditioning unit is ancient and had long ago stopped working, and the owners of the facility seemed to be in no hurry to fix it.  A foul stench lingers in the air; a mixture of rotting garbage in the bins outside,  pollution from the factories and the mills only a kilometre away, and the tell tale odour of mould and mildew. Not the most pleasant, but after wading through that sewer in Dhaka and having to wait there for more than hour for Gaspar to pick them up, smells rarely bother Tyler anymore.  But he notices the way Yaz scrunches up his nose; a scowl appearing on his face before he begins to cough and gag.

“What if they don't agree to this?” Yaz asks. “What if this is all for nothing?”

“Even if they do say no, it won't be for nothing. Trust me.”

“How long will you keep him here? If they don't want him.  How long does he have before...you know...”

“I'll kill him when I'm good and ready. And I will. Kill him. If they don't.”  

He's calm as he says it. Matter of fact. There's no hesitation. He'd made the decision on the drive over. If the IRA didn't want McMann, then he'd take care of the problem himself. But not before the other man was taught a very valuable lesson. It's the first time he hasn't experienced even the slightest bit of remorse or guilt over the thought of taking another life.  Killing had never been about satisfaction or pleasure. He's killed because he's had to. Because his own survival came down to it. He's never been proud of the reputation. Or the body count. But this is different.

This is personal.

“Are you sure this is what you want to do?” Yaz asks, as motions towards the last door on the left.  Garage style; black aluminum that rolls up into the ceiling. He'd rented the largest one possible; so whoever was in charge of watching McMann during set shifts would have a place to eat and rest.  There'd be a team of four, switching out every six hours.  And always a set off eyes on either laptop or cell phone.

“It's what I need to do,”  Tyler replies. “For my wife. For my kids.”

“Do you think she'd really want this, Tyler? If she knew exactly what you were up to? You think she'd want to know what you're capable of?”

“She already knows that, mate. She saw what I was capable of five and a half years ago in Dhaka. She knows who I am. She knows what I do.”

“But this? This goes above and beyond what she saw. What she knows. Do you really think she'd want to know about this? About what kind of man you can be?”

“No,” he admits. “Probably not. She'd probably hate me. Or be scared of me She'd probably never trust me again. Maybe she'd even leave me and take my kids.”

It's the bitter and hard truth of the situation; in the middle of trying to protect and avenge his family, he could in fact end up losing them.  But she'd understand. If she'd listen to him long enough. If she gave him a chance to explain, she would realize that he'd done it for her. For their kids. To protect the only things that truly mattered in his life. She'd saved him. Given him a second chance. And McMann had threatened that. To take away the one person that he had held on for.  

And he deserved to pay for it.

“Then why do it?”  Yaz asks.  “Why risk it? Why risk losing everything over one person?”

“Because,” he replies, and steps over the threshold of the storage unit. “He fucked with the wrong man's family.”

***

“Things are coming together,” Mark says, his hands on his hips as he watches two of his Marines -Nathan and Zak- secure the last two cameras; one above the door, the other in the middle of the room to the left, three inches from the ceiling.  The remaining member of his team has been assigned to stay behind at the hotel, ordered to stay glued to Esme's hip at all times until Tyler's returned from the his meeting with McMann.  “Not too shabby for a couple of jar heads, huh?  They're determined to get shit done, that's for sure.”

“It all gonna be ready for when he gets here?” Tyler asks. He doesn't want to leave any stone unturned. Not even the simplest of details can be overlooked. There is no room for error.  And even the smallest mistake could spell disaster.

“Should be. Come check this out...”

There's a crude metal chair in the middle of the room; a sack made from heavy black fabric that will be used to cover McMann's head and a package of zip ties sitting on the seat.  But it's  meal table pushed against the far wall that Mark leads him too. A wide selection of knives and handguns nearly arranged on top of it, along with the lesser used tools of the trade.

“We've got the usual,” Mark says, as he nods down at the objects on display. “Standard run of the mill shit. But these...” he takes two steps sideways.  “...this is where the real nasty stuff is. The ones that can really pack a punch. We've got a couple of tasers, a few box cutters, a ball-peen hammer, crowbar. Even a couple pairs of pliers. You know, for the little jobs and small spaces you need to get into.”

Tyler picks up a handsaw; inspecting the edges, the handle, the sharpness of the blade.

“That was my personal addition,” Mark says. “Right from my own collection. She's seen some dirty jobs, if you know what I mean. Hasn't let me down yet.”

Tyler smirks. “You do this kind of shit often?”

“Things used to get a little wild in Iraq. We used to have to resort to some pretty extreme things when dealing with the terrorists. Especially the ones we caught that were guilty of doing unspeakable shit to women and kids. You know, the kind that needs to meet the karma bus head on. I'm sure you saw some things in the Middle East.”

Tyler nods. His final three tours with the Australian army had been spent in Kandahar. He'd seen first hand what the Taliban had been capable of doing to women and children. He'd been on night patrol when his platoon had managed to capture a man known to be a serial rapist and pedophile. It's where he'd seen and learned the most savage of tricks in his playbook.  Committing every act of depravity his commanding officer had inflicted upon that Iraqi to his memory.  He had hoped that he'd never have to use any of those things; that a gun, knife, or fist would be the only weapons he'd have to rely on while on the job.  But now the inevitable is right there in front of him. And instead of horror and disgust, he feels nothing.  

He has nothing left to give. The job has taken it all. Every ounce of compassion and humanity that he'd ever possessed.

“You don't have to do this,” Mark says. “I know why you're doing it. And I get why you feel like it has to be done. But you don't need to do it, Tyler.”

“Yeah...” he picks up one of the box cutters and clicks open the blade.  “...I do.”

“Once you cross that line, you can't come back. You realize that, don't you? Once you go from killing out of necessity to killing for sport...for revenge...you'll never be the same.  Once we become that monster that's been living inside of us for years...for decades...that monster never goes away.  That monster is going to live with you for the rest of your life.”

“If that's the way it has to be...” he shrugs as his voice trails off.

“Kid, listen to me. I've been in this type of situation before. I've had to resort to some pretty sick and twisted shit to get things I needed. To teach someone a lesson.  And it fucks with you. It does something to you. Up here...” he taps the tip of his index fingers against his temple. “...it changes you. To the point you won't even recognize yourself. You're going wake up one morning and you're going to look in the mirror and not even know who the fuck you are anymore. Is that really what you want? To become some former version of yourself? And I'm not just talking about what it's going to do to you. I'm talking about what it's going to do to Esme. To see you like that. To not even know who you are anymore. Is that really want you want?”

“I'm not the same man I was when we first met. That man died that day on the Sultana Kamal Bridge. Five and half years ago that man died and this is who was left behind. Do you think that was fair to her? That she had to see that? That she had to sit there while I was dying in her arms?  That she stayed behind just to save my life? She gave up everything that day. She was never the same. Neither of us were.”

“She stayed because she wanted to be with you. Because she was in love with you. When Esme loves, she loves hard. With everything she's got. Do you really think she sees you the way you see yourself? You think you died that day. She thinks she saved you. She thinks she's the one that kept you hanging on.”

“She was,” he admits. “She's the only reason I did hang on.”

“She doesn't see you any differently now than she did back then. You're the same Tyler in her eyes. She doesn't look at you and see someone damaged and broken. She just sees you. That's it But this? What you're going to do here? That will change you. You will become a different person. And not a better one. Is that what you really want for her? Do you want her to look at you one day and not know who the fuck you are anymore? Because this is going to haunt you. This is going to eat at you. And she's going to be the one that pays the ultimate price.”

Tyler nods, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth. It's a nervous habit. Or one he resorts to when emotion is beginning to overwhelm him. He won't be able to keep it a secret forever. He knows that. But if he can hold it together just long enough to be victorious over his own monsters and his own demons, he can spare her the knowledge of just who he is and what he's capable of.  If he can keep the secret just long enough...to the point where it doesn't eat him alive from the inside out...everything will be okay.

They'd be okay.

“You've got this amazing thing going  on,” Mark continues. “You've got a wife, four kids, one on the way. Why would you want to fuck that up?”

“I don't,” he clears his throat noisily. “That's the last thing I want.”

“Think about those kids, Tyler. Your kids. You won't be the person they know right now. You won't be the same dad you are this very second.  Is that really what you want? They're just babies still. The oldest is only five. Five! And you're going to go back to those kids and slowly you're going to become a different person. Right in front of them. Think about what that's going to do to them. When daddy suddenly isn't daddy anymore. For fuck sakes. Tyler. You do not have to  do this.”

“Yes. I do,” he insists.  “They deserve this.”

“The fuck they do. Look, I get it. You're pissed. McMann fucked with the wrong guy.  He never should have went after your family. But they're safe. You took care of things. You found out before it got any further. You got your kids out. You got Ovi and the girl out. You protected them. Now they're safe and that's all that matters. What is this going to do? You doing this? Other than fuck you up?”

“He needs to be taught a lesson. I warned him. Before I even got on that plane to come here. I told him that if I found out he was fucking with me and going after my family, I'd make him sorry. And that's what I'm going to do.  I'm going to make him sorry. He's going to pay. I'm going to teach him a very valuable lesson. For as long and as painfully as I can.”

“But why? Why the fuck do you need to do that? Jesus Christ, Tyler. Do you realize what you sound like? Do you realize who you sound like?  You sound just like those crazy fucks that you have to rescue people from. This is the kind of shit those people do. What guys like Mahajan and Asif did to people. When did you cross that line? When did you stop being the hero and start being one of them?”

“Let's get one thing straight...”  Tyler's voice is low, menacing, as he turns to face Mark.  “...I've never been a hero. I've never claimed to be one. I never wanted to be one.  I help people because it's my job. I go in there, I get shit done, I get paid. That's it.  I don't do it to be a fucking hero.”

“But you're still one of the good guys. You still go in and help people. This? This is not helping people. This is far from it. You don't kill because you like it. You kill because you have to. To save yourself. To save your mark. But this is intentional, Tyler. You have this all planned and all thought out and you're acting like it's no big deal. That it's just a normal day for you. This is not normal!”

“He needs to pay,”  Tyler growls.  “He needs to pay for going anywhere near my kids. For taking me away from them. For bringing my wife into this fucking mess. And I'm going to make him pay. And there's not a goddamn thing you can do about it.”

“I could tell Nik.”

Tyler gives a dry laugh. “What the fuck is she going to do? She has nothing to with this. This all me. I'm in charge here. So go. Run off to her and tell her. I don't give a shit. She can't stop me either.”

“I'll tell Esme, then.”

Tyler's eyes narrowed. “Don't do that. Don't bring her into this.  That's fucking low and you know it. Using her against me? Using my own wife as a weapon?”

“She's the only one that can stop you from fucking your whole life up.  She saved you once. Let her save you again.”

“I don't need saving. I need revenge. I want him to pay. For what he did to my family. For what he's put them through. What he's put her through. She deserves that. She deserves revenge.”

“She doesn't want revenge, Tyler. She want her husband. She wants the father of her kids. As he is now. Now what he's going to become if he goes through with this. She wants a normal life. With you. And that won't happen if you do this.  This has gone far enough. You're going to hand McMann over and he can be the IRA's problem.”

“And if they don't want him? What then?”

“Then you kill him. Nice and clean. None of this shit.”

“No,” Tyler shakes his head. “That's not enough. That's not nearly enough.”

“This is fucking insane and you know it. You're unhinged. You need to get your shit together. You need to get your fucking head on straight. Forget about this. You don't need to do this. Because I will tell her. I'm not bullshitting. I will call her right now. Is that what you want? You want me to call her right now and let her know where you are and what you're up to?”

Tyler's eyes narrow, his nostrils flare. “Don't do this.”

“Fuck this,” Mark removes his cell phone from pocket of his hoodie. “If you're not going to back down and get your shit together, I'll let her handle this. She's pretty good at reining you, right? She's gotten used to having to keep you under control.”

“Don't do this,”  Tyler repeats. “Don't fucking do this.”

“You did this. You did this, Rake. And if you're not going to save yourself, maybe she can.”

He only manages to get the screen turned on and the first number pushed, Tyler's elbow slamming into his face and sending him sprawling backwards into the floor.  And there's a clamour as chaos erupts within the storage unit; the two Marines quickly bolting to their boss' side; ladders toppling over with a crash.

“Rake... you fucking asshole!” Mark bellows, as he struggles to his feet, a hand clutching his broken and bloody nose. “...what the hell is wrong with you? Are you fucking crazy?!”

“You should have just stayed the fuck away!” Tyler roars. “You should have stayed away from her. You never should have showed up at my house. You have no right. You have no fucking right being anywhere near her!”

“Is that really what this is about? Is that what you just did what you did? Because you're jealous.”

“I'm jealous?! What the fuck do I have to be jealous of. She left you, remember? She got tired of your shit and she left. Do you buddies know what you did? Do they know how you treated her? Huh? Did you tell them any of that? Or did you just make her out to be the bad person?”

“You're going to resort to that? You're going to resort to bringing that shit up? Are you that fucking desperate?”

“Did he tell you?”  Tyler asks the Marines.  “Did he? Did he tell you that my wife is his ex wife? Did he tell you why she left him? Did he tell you about how he got a blow job from a stewardess coming back from his honeymoon? I bet he didn't tell you that.”

“You're really going to do this?” Mark rages. “You're really going to bring this up?  It's none of your fucking business!”

“She's my fucking business! She's my wife. That makes her my business. I bet you didn't tell them that you liked to beat on her. That at first you started hitting her where she could hid the bruises with clothes. But then after awhile you just didn't give a fuck anymore and you'd give her black eyes, split lips, bloody noses.  How about the two times you put her in the hospital? Do you blokes now about that? Well if you didn't, you sure as fuck do now.”

“Whoa...whoa...” Yaz finally appears from the corridor, having been caught up organizing and setting up any remaining technology.  “What the hell is going on here?”

“He's fucking crazy,” Mark nods in Tyler's direction. “That's what's going on here.”

“I'm just letting these guy know what an upstanding citizen their boss is,”  Tyler explains.  “You know, the kind that likes to beat on women. The kind that likes to cheat on them. The kind that's a narcissistic dick bag that gas lighted her into thinking she was the problem, That she wasn't good enough. That she'd never be good enough.  Or how about how he blamed her for losing a baby the doctor said never would have been viable in the first place.”

Mark's eyes narrow.  “How'd you...”

“You fucking dumb ass. Did you really think I wouldn't ask her when you told me about the baby she lost? Did you honestly think I wouldn't want to know? Because I knew it couldn't be a problem with her because we have four kids. I've never had a problem getting her pregnant. And all those kids arrived safe and sound.  No issues whatsoever. She showed me the pathology report.  It was a severe abnormality passed down through the y gene. Meaning you, asshole.  It came from you. And you still fucking blamed her. You still made her think it was her goddamn fault.  How fucking sick do you have to be to do that your own wife? When she's already upset that she lost a baby in the first place?!”

“Okay...okay...” Yaz claps a hand down on Tyler's shoulder. “...this is private stuff, man. This doesn't need to be brought up. No one needs to hear this.”

“He needs to hear it,” Tyler nods in Mark's direction.  “Because he's been playing these fucking games for ten years now. Ten years she's held all that shit inside of her. Thinking she isn't good enough. Being told no one would ever love her because of how messed up she was. Do you remembering telling her that? Don't deny it. Don't stand here and lie to my face. Be a man. For once. Be a man and admit it. Own it. That you fucked with her head. That you made her think she'd never find anyone better than you. That's what you told her, right?”

“I admit it. I said some...things...”

“Yeah, you did. You sure fucking did, mate. You fucking broke her.  And you know what, I came along and I helped put her back together. All those things you told her? About how no one would ever love her? I proved you wrong.  I came along and I loved her. With everything I fucking have. Everything I am. I made her forget about you and you can't fucking stand it.”

“She's way too good for you.” Mark gives a dry laugh.  “And one day she's going to wake up and wonder why the hell she wasted so many years of her life with you.”

“You keep telling yourself that, mate. Whatever helps you sleep at night. Because guess what? While you're sleeping alone? I'm sleeping next to her. With her.  And you can't fucking stand the thought of it.”

“Enough!” Yaz snaps. “Both of you! Enough is enough. Now I get there's some issues. Between the two of you. I get shit is messy. Mark, you crossed a fucking line by ever showing up at Tyler's house looking for Esme. You went there to try and cause shit between them and it blew up in your face and you can't handle that.  Tyler and Esme are tight. Their bond? You can't break that shit. No one can. Now, we need to all work together here. We need to get this asshole and make him pay. Can't we all agree on that? That McMann needs to go down for all the shit he's pulled? Right?” he stares pointedly at Tyler. “Right?”

Tyler nods.

“Right?” he turns his gaze to Mark and the two marines, all three nodding in confirmation.   “For fuck sakes, this is not the time for shit to be falling apart. We're all working towards a common goal here. You three have your reasons for wanting McMann to suffer, and Tyler has his reasons. And it doesn't matter if I agree with how Tyler is going about things. What he does when he's left here with McMann is his business. Just like I won't give a shit what you guys to do him.  But this is my boy...”  he claps Tyler on the back of his neck. “...this is my brother. This stupid fuck...this ugly face...has been through more shit than the three of you together. And you know what? His stubborn ass just keeps getting back up.  I saw this guy near death. Like right on its fucking doorstep. And he made death his bitch. So if you've got a problem with him, you've got a problem with me. And my sister. And our entire team.”

“We have no issues with him,” Nathan speaks up. “With either of you.”

Zak shrugs. “I've got no problems.”

“So it just you,” Yaz smirks at Mark. “Time to let shit go, man. She's not yours anymore. She's his. And he's not letting her go. Deal with.”

Mark gives a snort, then turns on his heel to stomp from the room, purposefully bumping Tyler's shoulder with his on the way out.

“What a drama queen,”  Yaz shakes his head. “Why didn't you tell me you were going to knock him the fuck out?  You know I wanted to see that. You know I wanted ringside seats! The fuck is wrong with you? Doing me like that?”

“Next time I'll let you know. So we can watch.  Hey about what you said...”

“I said what I said. Don't go getting all little wuss bitch baby on me.”

Tyler grins. “Actually, I was going to ask if you really think my face is ugly.”

Yaz smirks. “You know you're my boy crush. Now quit riding my jock and get the fuck out of here.  Go and see your wife. Spend some time with her before you go and meet McMann. You both need it. That time.”

“Yeah,” Tyler nods.  “We do.”

“And I'd say wrap it before you tap it but you've proven time and time again you don't know what  that means, so...”

“You're a real fucking dick, Yaz,” he laughs as he heads for the door.

“Maybe. But you love me. And you'd miss me if I was gone.  Admit it, Tyler! You'd miss me!”   He frowns when he receives a smirk and the middle finger in response. “Why you do me like that? Why you do your boy like that?”

He receives no answer. Just the sound of the soles of combat boots as they disappear down the hall.

[aleteia-ff]

1000 followers! | The Phantom of the Archipelago - Sneak Preview

Ohhh, yes!

Thank you, everyone, for your support. This week, I passed the milestone of 1000 Tumblr followers. I have only been on this website for 11 months by now and the amount of love and support I’ve received from this community, the people I’ve gotten to know... I’m so happy I joined! <3

Now, because you guys make me so happy, I want to do something back. And since a lot of you probably started following me because of The Phantom of the Arena, I wanted it to be related to that fic. And although I’m still working on building enough buffer of it’s sequel, The Phantom of the Archipelago, before I actually start posting, I figured I could at least share the draft of one scene from one of the first chapters. 

To say it’s a major scene would be an understatement. 

Obviously, spoilers below the Keep Reading line ;) 

And just a reminder that my ask box is always open! I might take some time to answer them, but in the end I always will. And I will try my hardest to work through some of the asks still in there. 

You can also always find me on Discord in the #aleteias-fics channel!

Hiccup let his gaze wander towards the far side of the island, intuitively scanning Berk’s dense forests for the little clearing in the middle of the trees. For the place he’d loved, and had later come to hate because of how his father had tainted it. But when his eyes found the all-too-familiar spot with ease, he decided that it wouldn’t be that bad to revisit after all.

He nudged Toothless to glide downwards, the two of them staying low and circling the cliffs before soaring over the treetops. Not that anyone was ever looking towards the sky the way Hiccup did, but he’d rather be safe than sorry. Especially on a clear and sunny day like this.

Or perhaps that had changed too over the past couple of years.

Toothless warbled happily when they descended into the cove. Hiccup rolled his eyes, patting the dragon’s neck. “As if you didn’t know where we were going already. You’re flying this thing too, remember?”

They circled around to confirm they were indeed alone, and then skimmed over the pond, the tips of Toothless’ wings just breaking the water’s surface. Hiccup took off his right glove, leaning sidewards to let his scarred fingertips trail through the fresh water, sending a shiver down his spine. He released the straps that secured his feet to the pedals, readying himself to dismount. He didn’t use the straps that often these days, but they were a welcome safety measure when spying on villages, hanging from a cliff. Although he’d definitely let himself drop on purpose a few times, as an excuse to use his own wings.

It was all about danger assessment. And after eleven years of flying, there wasn’t much that could surprise him anymore.

He yelped when that thought was immediately proven wrong as Toothless made an abrupt tight turn, sending him flying all on his own. He realised reaching for his wings was futile just before he hit the water with a loud splash!.

He gasped as he came back up for air, frantically looking around from behind the hair stuck to his forehead in search of an explanation. And broke into a chuckle when he caught sight of his drenched dragon, wading towards him with a proud, gummy smile.

“Good to see at least one of us hasn’t grown up since we first ‘flew’ together all those years ago,” he teased.

Toothless moved one of his wings, but Hiccup ducked under water, avoiding the retaliatory splash, throwing water right back at his best friend when he came back up.

They continued to wrestle and tease each other, both of them somehow ending up even more drenched than before, until Hiccup decided he was done and swam towards the shore. Toothless gave his best Scauldron impression as his rider got out, almost making him fall flat on his face when the water hit his back. He stuck out his tongue towards the dragon, removed his helmet, and shook his head, getting rid of most of the water as he took apart Inferno, confirming none of its vital parts had been soaked. Some of it needed oiling - and he couldn’t wait to get around to that - but not like this.

He looked around, a satisfied smile spreading across his lips as he surveyed the cove. It was exactly like he remembered. Frozen in time, the only thing that had changed in the past eleven years the removal of the shield he’d clumsily lodged between two rocks at its entrance, and of course, his remembrance stone.

In honour of Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III

Berk’s Bravest Dragon Killer

He found he no longer minded the text. Because it was finally true. And if people chose to remember him for killing that one dragon that had tormented them for so many generations, then he’d settle for that. It was a lot better than being remembered as a Viking-hating terrorist, he supposed.

He sat back against the stone, comfortably leaning against it as Toothless continued to splash around behind him.

“It feels good to be here again,” he murmured to himself. “Now that the memories are no longer tainted, and I can just… Enjoy them.”

He remembered it all like it was only yesterday. How he’d been both scared and then incredibly excited to find Toothless there on that first day, wondering why the dragon was sticking around before he’d spotted his missing tail, instantly realising he’d done that and, more disturbingly, that he felt incredibly sorry for it.

How they’d locked eyes from a distance, and how that look had stayed with him from that moment on. Prompting him to seek out the dragon again the next day and end up swallowing a way too large bite of slimy, raw, regurgitated fish.

It had only been uphill from there… All the afternoons he’d spent in the cove, observing Toothless, learning who he was and interacting with him, closing that gap bit by bit until it had felt no more than simply right - although still thoroughly nerve-wracking - to extend his palm towards the Unholy Offspring of Lightning and Death itself. And how his entire world had changed when Toothless had pressed his snout against it.

He trailed the scars on his face with his left hand, once again mapping out every line as if he hadn’t already memorised them long ago. He’d been through a lot since he’d met Toothless. Lost a lot. But it was the one thing he’d do again, and again, no matter how many new attempts at life he might get. Because he couldn’t imagine a world without his best friend in it.

“I love you, Bud,” he told the dragon, who warbled a ‘I love you too’ in return.

He closed his eyes, enjoying the sun on his face as he waited for his hair and armour to dry, allowing himself to slightly doze off. He went back to those first attempts at getting Toothless back into the air, at all the failures they’d gone through before they’d actually made it out of the cove. Let alone gone for an actual flight, the first of which had gone anything but smoothly. But he’d enjoyed every second of it. The wind on his face, the saltiness of the sea in his nostrils, the two people shouting in the distance…

His eyes flew open and he put up his hand. Toothless instantly stopped moving, not a sound in the air for a mere moment. And then he heard it. A clear, audible “Wait up!”, echoing through the forest. Louder than before.

Coming towards them.

“Hide!” he hissed at Toothless as he scrambled to his feet, the distance between them too big for them to reconnect and fly away unseen. He sprinted after his dragon, the two of them disappearing behind a boulder in the back end of the cove. He snuck a look over his shoulder, spotting a figure at the top of the cove’s entrance.

A child.

He held his breath, peeking from the shadows, but the kid didn’t seem to have seen him, or the large black dragon currently breathing down his neck. Good. Now he just had to get out of here unseen as well.

“Hey, H!” - Hiccup’s heart skipped a beat, before he realised the kid’s name probably started with an H - “Not so fast!” he heard, coming from the forest once again.

He furrowed his brows, a surprised whisper escaping him. “Tuffnut?”

“I can do it myself!” the child - a boy - shouted back before he started to make his way down the cliff at the cove’s entrance.

“I know you can, but your mother will kill me if I let you,” the man repeated, and surely, Tuffnut Thorston appeared at the top of the cliff, gesturing at the boy, who was climbing down a lot faster than Hiccup would have assumed a child his size could.

“Tuffnut has a son?” he murmured, but Toothless just huffed, also clueless. “Kid doesn’t look much like him.”

Based on his length, the boy couldn’t be older than four, five at best. So he’d likely been born after the Phantom had left Berk. He searched his memory, wondering if he’d ever seen Tuffnut with a woman whose hair remotely resembled the kid’s unruly mop of auburn. He’d seen Tuffnut with many children today and yesterday, but when it came to a wife, he came up empty-handed.

“I didn’t think he even liked women to begin with,” he confessed, grinningly recalling the time Tuffnut had unknowingly flirted with the Phantom. “Guess we learn something new every day.”

“Then I want to fly down,” the boy insisted, pausing on the edge of one of the rocks, leaning forward and peering down in a way that made Hiccup’s stomach churn.

Tuffnut caught up with him, grabbing the boy’s arm and gently pulling him back. “You can’t fly. You’re not a dragon.”

“But I want to be a dragon!”

Tuffnut knelt down, putting his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “And I will still love you even if your breath smells like rotten fish, Little Hamster. But if you want to fly, you should grow some wings first.”

“So I should eat more raw fish?”

Hiccup grinned. Clever boy.

“No, then you’ll get sick, and we don’t want that, now do we?” The boy shook his head, his hair flopping around. “Although between you and me, it’s probably not that much worse than your mom’s cooking.”

“Berkian women and being bad cooks. Name a better duo,” Hiccup chuckled. He’d understood from his dad that his mom hadn’t been stellar, and Astrid surely couldn’t be called remotely talented either. He thought back to the fish stew she’d once tried to make, and instantly felt sympathy for Tuffnut’s situation.

The boy laughed loudly. “I’m gonna tell Mum you said that!”

“Go ahead, snitch,” Tuffnut teased, poking the boy’s chest. “I can take her on any day.”

The boy shook his head. “You can’t! No one can!”

“Are you doubting my mighty Thorston blood? There’s ‘Thor’ in my name for a reason, you know!” Tuffnut caught the boy in his arms, tickling him. “Are you, huh?”

“Stop!” the boy laughed, swatting at his father. “Uncle Tuff!”

Or not his father, then.

Hiccup bit his lip. Perhaps he was one of Ruffnut’s, then? But he thought he’d seen Snotlout with a girl of about the same age as the boy… Twins, then? They did run in the Thorston family, after all. Or perhaps they were siblings who weren’t that far apart, and one of them looked a lot older or younger than they actually were.

He felt he should leave, that he was peeking at something private, something he shouldn’t see. But he simply couldn’t. Instead, he quietly retrieved one of his Changewing skins and hung it over his head, allowing him to blend in with his surroundings and creep forward so he could get a better look. Behind him, Toothless warbled curiously, but he nudged the dragon back with his foot, telling him it wasn’t safe enough.

“Alright, wait here,” Tuffnut told the boy before he climbed down the remaining rocks, opening up his arms when he reached the bottom. “Ready when you are!”

The boy leapt forward, landing in Tuffnut’s arms. He spun the two of them around, keeping the boy high up in the air, making him squeal in delight until he finally put him down, Tuffnut visibly swaying on his feet as he tried to regain his balance.

Hiccup could see the comedic duo more clearly now. Tuffnut was still wearing his usual disorganised combination of a tunic, vest and lustrous assortment of spiked accessories. The boy was dressed way more conservatively, in a dark red tunic, half of it tucked into a pair of brown pants, the other half unintentionally hanging out, a leather satchel with the crest of Berk on it slung over his shoulder. Hiccup had always had good eyes - Astrid had noticed he could make out certain details from high up in the air, while she couldn’t - allowing him to spot the smattering of freckles on the bridge of the boy’s small nose, the tips of his big ears peeking through his copper hair and his forest green eyes, which curiously taking in his surroundings.

In a way, the boy struck him as oddly familiar. Then again, he had likely once met a Thorston who looked just like him, given how colourful and diverse - not just mentally - the family was. Tuffnut and Ruffnut were rather tame by comparison. Or so he’d been told, by enough sources to make the stories believable.

“Go on,” Tuffnut gestured in front of him as he sat down in the grass. “We’re here for you, after all.”

The boy adamantly shook his head. “Not for me. For Daddy.”

“Because you want to talk to him, Hamish,” Tuffnut pointed out.

Hamish. Huh. Hiccup could understand that name becoming fashionable again after he’d personally destroyed the portraits of his ancestors, Hamish I and Hamish II, five years ago. But it seemed like such an usual name for Ruffnut and Snotlout to give to their son. Especially if he was their firstborn son; then he was Snotlout’s heir… It’d be more logical for him to be named in the -lout tradition, but perhaps they had wanted to give off a clear sign by naming him after the great Haddock Chiefs, who had been defiled by their actual descendant.

How un-Thorstonly political.

The boy nodded and slowly walked forward to the edge of the pond, looking down and fidgeting with his hands. Eventually, he stopped in front of Hiccup’s remembrance stone, a bright lop-sided smile spreading across his face. “Hey Daddy.”

Hiccup furrowed his brows, because all of this was only making less and less sense the longer he watched. Was the boy’s father dead? And had his stone become a place to go to to think of other dead, or presumed-dead, people? Or those who simply weren’t around?

“Mama’s not here, but she said it’s okay if I go alone,” the boy - Hamish - continued.

Only to be corrected by Tuffnut. “If someone else goes with you!”

Hamish huffed, looking at Tuffnut. “But I know the way!”

“And you can go alone when you’re older. Until then, you can show an adult how to get here whenever you want,” Tuffnut quipped.

“I’m old enough,” Hamish insisted.

“I disagree. And so does your mother. And while she’s not the boss of me, she’s certainly the boss of you.”

Hamish frowned angrily, but Tuffnut simply grinned at him in response. “So what did you want to say to your dad?”

The boy wavered for a moment, his brows furrowed as he seemed to be thinking, but then his face opened up into a wide smile. He fumbled with his satchel, retrieving something black from it, and walked closer to the stone, proudly holding it up. Hiccup squinted, trying to make out what it was. And then the boy spoke.

“Look, Daddy, I brought Mini-Toothless!”

He only vaguely heard how Toothless purred in response to his name. Because right then, the ground underneath him disappeared, and the entire world along with it. Until there was nothing left but that boy, and the little statuette he held in his hands.

Of a Night Fury.

Which he’d carved and painted for Astrid as a Snoggletog present over five years ago.

“Mummy told me to take care of him while she’s gone -”

The boy’s mother was gone.

He’d given that statuette to Astrid.

And Astrid was gone too.

That boy was Astrid’s son.

But he didn’t have her beautiful blonde hair, her gorgeous blue eyes, her adorable but slightly oversized ears - no, he did have those, so Hamish could be hers, but then where did he get the rest? Hiccup thought she’d waited for him, that she…

“- like you take care of real Toothless!”

You.

The boy was talking to his father.

Who probably had auburn hair, and a pair of green eyes.

Who wasn’t there.

Whose dragon, named Toothless, was worriedly nudging Hiccup’s side, sensing his rider’s distress.

The boy was talking to him.

Because he was his father.

He hardly heard what the boy - Hamish, his son, named after his ancestors - said after that. He simply stared, unable to move, his breath coming out in short pants. Hamish rambled, his tiny hands moving along as he talked, as if this was completely ordinary to him, as if Hiccup’s - as if his father’s - world wasn’t completely falling apart at that very moment. Because it didn’t make sense.

How?

How…?

How!?  

He crumbled to the ground, pressing his hands to his ears, because he couldn’t listen, because this wasn’t happening. The Gods were playing a trick on him, or his mind was, yet again. He was seeing things, hearing things, deluding himself into picturing something that wasn’t there. That didn’t exist, that wasn’t true, because it couldn’t be true. He would’ve known if Astrid had been pregnant, he would’ve known if he was a father, she would have told him, he would have felt it.

It couldn’t be real. But no matter how often he pinched himself, they didn’t go away. The boy, Tuffnut, and the tiny wooden Night Fury stayed where they were. He wanted to flee, but he couldn’t, they would see him, and he didn’t know what happened if delusions spotted the person who was deluding them, not that that thought made much sense -

Oh Gods.

Oh, Gods.

He turned his eyes towards the sky, trying to snap himself out of it, to focus on anything but the scene in front of him. But the sun moved too slowly, and time along with it, so he wasted away, waiting, praying, asking the Gods what they’d brought down on him this time, until finally, his nightmarish visions left.

After scoldingly calling out the boy’s full name, Tuffnut picked him up, and, although reluctantly, the boy eventually stopped struggling, keeping Mini-Toothless clutched to his chest as Tuffnut carried him towards the cove’s exit. They exchanged some words, and the boy waved in the direction of the pond.

Hiccup only just prevented himself from waving back.

He couldn’t banish the boy’s name from his mind. Not even after he and Tuffnut had left, and Hiccup had jumped on Toothless’ back. Not even after they took to the air, the wind in his face not waking him up like he’d hoped it would.

So he simply flew West. Hoping to go back to the nightmare he’d come from. The one he was familiar with, the one he could deal with. Because he couldn’t handle this one.

Hamish Hofferson.

[oveliagirlhaditright]

Author’s Note: For @palizinhas‘s birthday! Some RiKai, as Kairi goes to a Magic Knight Rayearth world--why I chose that for this, I don’t know (though maybe it’s because this whole thing was supposed to be a world-hopping, multi-chapter--that I don’t know if I’m doing anymore--and with other multi-chapters I’m writing right now, I’m running out of new worlds to send people to). But meh. Also, you don’t have to know MKR to understand this fanfic--but I hope you like it, honey.

I’m meh about this fic. Because it’s not the epic RiKai I promised you long ago--and it’s more Kairi-centric than anything--but I hope it’s still something.

I hope you’re having a great birthday!

-Shanna

Edit: Also, full disclosure that it’s been a while since I’ve watched MKR or read it.

Healing

As it had turned out? Sora, on his second journey, actually had been doing damage to the worlds in unlocking Keyholes (1). And now that he was retired after everything that had happened with the Master of Masters, Kairi and Riku had decided that they would go to the worlds he’d visited and lock them.

And Kairi in being desperate to prove herself, she knew, was the first one to leave in a gummi ship by herself… But since she had never flown one before, she should have accounted for the fact that she’d probably mess up on it.

And that was how she found herself in a new world, that—as far as she knew—none of her friends had ever been to before. And like Sora, Riku, Terra, Ventus, and Aqua had done in the past, she found herself getting involved in the world—Cephiro’s—massive problems and trying to help out there.

But maybe this world was destined to aid her in some ways, too… Because it was when Kairi was in a bath with the main girls involved in this conflict—Hikaru, Umi, Fuu, Caldina, and Presea—that Kairi found her thoughts returning to Riku. She’d liked him for a long time, she knew… But it was only recently that she was starting to think that those feelings had turned to love… kind of like what Hikaru felt for the kind and strong warrior, Lantis, it seemed.

“I think,” said Kairi, as she splashed the girl with the water powers, Umi, to see just how much water she could create to retaliate with, if she got too angry. “That you should be with Lantis then, Miss Hikaru. Life’s too short—and tragedy happens too much—to give up on your dreams.”

But it was here that the woman Presea—who had apparently been a guide to Hikaru, Umi, and Fuu in the past—laid down the law for Kairi, and seemed like she hated herself to do so. “Except that she can’t. Hikaru here might be the next Pillar of Cephiro. And day and night, twenty-four/seven, the Pillar must pray for Cephiro’s well-being. Otherwise, plants will fail to grow… the weather will only be vicious storms, and the country will fall to chaos. And if Hikaru were with Lantis, it could distract her from that… like the situation with Lantis’ deceased brother, Zagato, and the now dead Princess Emeraude.”

And so Kairi sank down in the water and stopped trying to give relationship advice. But if she was being honest with herself, she wasn’t sure she bought all parts of this tale. And with how awful it sounded—apparently Zagato had kidnapped his love, Emeraude, to try and save her from such a terrible fate and she had begged Hikaru, Umi, and Fuu to save her for Cephiro’s sake… only to turn around and try to kill them when they ended up slaying him, so that they had to end her in self-defense—Kairi didn’t know why anyone would want to preserve such a system. But it wasn’t her place to say. And what she needed to focus on was finding the Keyhole of this world…

And that’s how Kairi found herself in Fuu’s mecha with her. She’d reluctantly broken the World Order and told everyone here that she was a Keyblade wielder and looking for this world’s Keyhole in order to save it from Heartless… and Fuu had told her that she could come with her to look for it, while she patrolled against those from other worlds—it seemed—who were now trying to steal Cephiro for their own or to copy the Pillar System. And as they’d gone out into the Other Sky, Kairi and Fuu had witnessed this kitty-cat looking girl attack Hikaru viciously. "Okay... I think I can keep up most of your world’ story," said Kairi now, as she sent a Cure spell Hikaru’s way, and very nearly went outside to deliver some Keyblade action onto cat girl. “But what’s up with that girl who kind of looks like Hikaru, who keeps saying that she loves Hikaru but hates everything that she loves?”

"You're learning most of these answers as we are," Fuu answered, as she sent an impressive gust of wind towards the strange girl, that would have even impressed Ven with his Tornado spell. "I- I guess Hikaru was split in half somehow—because she hates herself for what we did to Emeraude—and Nova's the small part of her left, that feels any self-worth." Being split in two... now she could relate to that. And while she’d somewhat been criticizing this world before… she had to admit that a lot of it actually fit with her and her story. So, could it have been destiny? As a Princess of Hearts, was she supposed to save Hikaru from a terrible fate by adding another terrible fate onto herself?

Deciding to test that theory, as Kairi healed Fuu now—for now Nova’s mecha was coming after her—Kairi asked, "...What if I became Pillar?" "...I definitely, uhh, think you have the pure soul for it, Miss Kairii!” Fuu answered, as she punched this way and kicked that way—that somehow made the robot they were in do the same thing—"but you- you have to be chosen for it." This somewhat took Kairi aback... though, really, she knew she should've known. But she was trying to act like Riku had, when he'd had nothing but had still tried to find a way to save her years ago. But it seemed it wasn’t meant to be… unless she really tried for it, perhaps? Maybe she could stumble her way into some of this, like Sora had with being a Key bearer. "I'll test myself for the role, and see if I have what it takes… I’ll find this toxic water you spoke of earlier—in the chamber of the Pillar—and see if I can wade my way through it.”

And summoning a Corridor of Light through which she could leave—and somewhat ignoring Fuu’s raised eyebrow—Kairi prepared to do just that.

Skillfully, with the kind of jumps that only a wielder could do, Kairi jumped from stone to stone in this water… but it wasn’t enough. Some force was pulling her down, down, down, and she had just enough time to create a barrier around herself and glide away, before something disastrous happened. And atop her barrier, sat a white little creature that had been in the bath with them earlier. Mokona, if Kairi remembered its name right? "I think," the genius animal said, "You're trying to prove to Riku to Riku in particular, that you're strong as he is. But you don't need to be the new Pillar in order to do that. All I ask is that you aid the new Pillar when they awaken.”

Aiding… that was what she’d done on most of Riku and Sora’s quests in the past, huh? And while she hated that about herself—and always thought that she should do more—maybe what she did was for the best. Maybe it was who she was. "I'll just let Hikaru be Pillar," Kairi agreed, in knowing for sure that the Pillar would be her and not these people from other planets wanting to try out for that role. After all, to create such a powerful darkness as Nova, she must have had a wonderful light to her.

And that was exactly what Kairi said to Hikaru when she returned to Hikaru, Umi, and Fuu’s fight with the other nations. Kairi, in space once again, performed her Seven Wishes and Heart of a Princess attack to help even the odds, and was then flying in front of Hikaru’s mecha. "Hikaru… I know it may still be rough. But you need to accept bad things that you think you've done and still find a way to love yourself through them. You… despise yourself for what happened with Emeraude, and so you created Nova. And I- I came to this world I don't belong in, because I didn’t think I did enough for Riku and Sora before and was trying to make up for it here... When, maybe, I should have let myself revel in being the damsel in distress some, so I would have waited for Riku and we’d be here together right now.”

Hikaru must have understood where Kairi was coming from. Because days later, Hikaru—now Pillar—changed the system, so that Cephiro would be upheld by everyone who loved their country. And with her job done, when her own world was trying to call her back home, Hikaru allowed herself to reach for Lantis and tell him that she loved him.

And on that day, Kairi felt a hand with a new cast into it slip into hers. And she heard the words. "Great job, Kai! …But it turns out the whole Keyhole and Gate situation was taken care of long ago. We’re not needed after all. What do you say we go home?” Kairi grinned at Riku—and got so close to him, that wisps of his silver hair fell into her own face—and she tugged on his hand. "Let's."

Author’s Note: That’s based on the KHII manga, where Mushu thinks Sora—in unlocking the Gates—is unsealing the Keyholes from KHI and is upset about it. LOL.

Mokona can talk, because I’m going with the manga version where he’s actually the god of Cephiro… but a much kinder one here. Yep.

[vesperlionheart]

STAG

For @sariasprincy because she wanted this waaaay back when and I finally got around to attempting my hand at Dark!Tobirama Sakura. :D

He watched her pull her hair up, catching it with her fingers when it started to slip free. She ran her free hand over her neck, starting at the base where the peaks of her bones stuck out, bent as she was over the river. He felt just as trapped as the fish in her net, watching her pale fingers follow the curve of her neck, suddenly too dry and hoarse for words.

With silent fingers made skilled from year of weaving, she tied up her hair to keep it out of her eyes, and then looped it again into a bun she fastened with a hair stick that could have been a twig for how crude it looked. A few stray curls framed her face, rebellious and free as she straightened and let the sun fall over her profile once more.

Nothing else adored her figure, no metal or stone or bead or weaving decorated her as she set about hauling up her catch from the nets. A moment later he realized why that was so odd. She wasn’t dressed as the other women in his village were ought to do. She didn’t even wear skirts, but instead waded into the water with clinging damp trousers that rolled up just above her knee.

Someone called to her and she caught the thick rope out of the air before twisting it around her fist and digging into the shifting river bed. She set her shoulders and turned the shape of her body away from the source, then he saw her move, pulling the weight up from under the water.  

“I told you, brother, the freshest fish in the land right here. Even at market they’re not still wriggling,” Hashirama laughed. “You fancy some for dinner?”

“That,” Tobirama began, still somehow unable to look away, “should be obvious considering this was the reason for your troublesome expedition.”

It took some effort, but he manage the swallow, blink, and force his face away in that order. He caught sight of a pair of scarred fishermen wading out of the water with cages under their arms and the sight was enough to ease him back into his casual displeasure. He did not want his brother to get any ideas about their expedition being somehow enjoyable. If Hashirama ever got that into his head there would be no end to the nagging.

“It does you more good than you’re willing to admit to get out of that tower of yours,” Hashirama huffed. “You stay cooped up in your stoney prison all day and all night for months and years on end of course your personality is going to grow stale. I’m afraid I can’t take you anywhere that might make you happy.”

“I’m perfectly happy at home with my books and my work,” Tobirama lied.

Hashirama reached for his brother and drew him into a side hug, smushing their shoulders together.  “You work far too hard for such an unfavored wizard.”

“We can’t all marry princesses with lands as vast as east is from the west and grow fat for our daughters. Some of us must contribute to this wretched earth.” 

 Tobirama felt his lip curl as he pushed out of his brother’s hold and then straightened the front of his frock. It was pale gray with the crest of a black stag across the heart. A single pendant on a gold chain, vibrating with stored magic, hung down from around his neck.

Unlike his brother Tobirama dressed in muted colors of black and gray and didn’t decorate himself with many metals or jewels unless it served a function he could justify. If need arose, he could use the Hag’s Eye to unleash a simple lightning strike. All Hashirama’s ring could do was glitter.

Most days he never needed much more than his cantrips. It had been many years since his initiation into the Philosopher’s Guild and his promotion to Providence Wizard. There weren’t many others who were of his caliber anymore, and even fewer who could make him believe they were even a challenge. It had been so long he forgot what his limits were, sometimes.

“You said you wanted something different for dinner, so lets get some fish before the best tails are taken!” The cheerful Lord exclaimed, pushing past his brother and hailing down a pretty help maid who was setting up baskets for sale.

“Who even says such ridiculous things?” Behind Hashirama’s back Tobirama mocked his older brother in a higher voice that wasn’t nearly as flattering as the original. “Before the tails are taken. Pssssh.”

He froze when he heard a petite snort just over his shoulder.

Spinning on his heel he couldn’t help but raise his guard. Someone was close enough without his notice and as powerful as he was, he wasn’t without his enemies. 

The long tails of his sleeves flapped out at his side as he raised his hands for fire magic, but it was only his face that heated.

The lovely vision of a woman he had been transfixed on earlier stood with a crate under her arm, resting on her hip.

“Mister,” she called with a smile so bright and white it should have been a warning. “Will you buy from me today?”

-

“Of course I know about you. Anyone in the seven hills who has ever had to pay with copper knows about you,” Sakura laughed in an exasperated way. She leaned back on the end of the bar’s edge with her elbows. She let the leg she had crossed over the other bounce teasingly. “Why, you thought you were being subtle?”

“We have not been formally introduced. I know not your family and you-”

Sakura held up a hand to stop him and like some sort of strange magic he did. She was bewitching and pretty, but after enough encounters he was almost positive there was something more than just her own womanly charms that bound him so.

“We don’t do that sort of thing around these parts. No one under this roof doesn’t have to slave for his bread and home, mister wizard.” There was a rough tilt in her words, something rural and easy that made her words fit the landscape better than his own polished ones. She spoke like a local and he was, as always, the odd sheep out. He didn’t…hate the sound of her voice, even if she said a few things wrong or addressed him incorrectly.

“High Wizard or Tower Wizard would be more appropriate,” he corrected. In spite of his self imposed confidence, he felt himself tug on the end of his tunic and fret with the hem of its fabric. Something possessed him to worry if it was properly pressed and not wrinkled in her presence.

“Makes no difference to me,” Sakura said. She reached for her ale and drank deep before replacing it on the bar by her side. “I’m not working in the rivers today, so why bother me here mister high tower wizard?”

He could tell the way she said it none of his names were title, only worthless words in her mouth….her pretty perfect mouth. She shook himself free of the thought and pressed on with his business.

“You’re untrained, but you are not without the gift.”

Sakura stilled but then eased back into the bounce of her leg. She glanced over her shoulder and pointed to her empty tankard before wiggling two fingers. When the bar keep turned away to fill her order Sakura turned around as well.

“That wouldn’t be quite true, sir. It’s not legal to train the magic folk unless they’re sworn to a crowned figure. No one here has any magic.”

“Nature conforms to no man.”

“Yet it grows for the wizards and their towers,” Sakura countered quickly.

“You’re not as untrained as you first appear, I believe,” Tobirama pressed. He dared a step closer.

“Depends on your definition of trained and untrained, sir. I’ve never practiced magic in no tower or school, but I work the rivers and the fields when its time and I sew with the women and wash with them too. I can fix most of the carts in town and deliver most of the livestock too if the need rises for it. I’m half decent as a midwife because of necessity and some say I’m not shit at cards neither. Maybe I’m not magic trained, but I get by.”

Two tankards were set down behind her arm and she reached to drink from the second one.

“Are you unwilling to learn and develop your gift?” he asked.

He almost cringed, watching her down the first drink in a single breath. He thought she might offer him the second drink, but then she reached for it too replacing her empty tankard with the third one.

“No such thing, told you, we know it’s illegal. Any gift in any babe is prayed out of them right away. No exception.”

“But you’re not from around here, are you?”

Sakura didn’t drink, but stilled with the tankard close to her chin. She seemed to be staring down into it, watching something in her amber colored reflection.

“Oh?”

“Your accent is unusual, and I might not have noticed it at first because all rural accents seem to sound the same, but there is a difference. Where were you born?”

Sakura laughed, reaching out with the toe of her bouncing leg to touch his knee before turning around in her seat to finish the last of her drink. With her back to him she left the money on the table and then slid off the stool. Once on her own two feet, her petite stature became all the more apparent. Tobirama towered over her.

“I’m sorry mister tower wizard, but that’s too fun a story to not save for later when you actually get to know me.” She sauntered to the door and then turned on a half spin before ducking out. “Next time offer to buy my drinks you dumbass.”  

-

She was magic, he was sure of it. She was as rough as anything unpolished is bound to be when found in the wilds of nature, be he would be the riverbed that shaped her into her greatest potential if only she would let him.

But she was as vexing as she was enchanting.

She didn’t talk to him when she was working, and if she was selling she wouldn’t say anything to his questions and queries unless he purchased something, and sometimes she made him purchase more than he was willing to use just to get her responses. What was he supposed to do with four dozen river crab? He didn’t even like crab. No amount of butter was going to change that.

When she was at the pub she liked to play cards and he could usually get her to talk to him if he played with her, and he wasn’t bad, but her luck and perception was blessed by some higher power, be it fay or the Unknown or some organized god.

She spoke best after winning when he bought her alcohol.

He had learned where she came from, or as much as she knew anyway. Left behind as a baby in Oberon’s Forest and raised by working men, she had been trained to close off the part of her that gravitated towards things unexplained for fear of causing her foster family grief. The things she couldn’t help, like the suggestion and calming of emotions was something she had never been able to stifle.

“It’s funny how that doesn’t work on you,” she said once.

“I’m far too stimulated around you to be calmed by something so passive as a cantrip.”

She asked him to explain his words but he bought her another drink instead and then asked for his wine to be paired with a nice cheese and bread. She laughed and almost fell out of her chair, but it wasn’t because the beer, because it never was. She could drink a horse’s weight in ale and still do cartwheels.

In the past three months he had left his tower for a small town in his providence more times than he had in the six years he had been stationed there. He wasn’t sure that was a good or bad thing yet, but he knew it wasn’t going to change until he got what he wanted.

“You’re always asking me questions, why don’t you ever answer mine?” Sakura complained.

“You never ask me anything,” he said. His heart felt a little heavy.

“You never let me get a question in. You just start talking about yourself all on your own. Here’s a secret for you, honey, I never listen when you do that.” Sakura pulled her chair closer to his and he didn’t flinch, but his breathing might have skipped.

“I think I am insulted.”

Sakura waved her hand between them. “Don’t be, it’s the same as with everyone who’s stuck up. I don’t listen to any of them none either.”

“You think I’m stuck up?”

Sakura reached out and traced the embroidery of a gray stag on his black tunic. “Yeah, a little. Not the way your brother is because that man’s a eyeful of concentrated sunlight in the middle of summer if you know what I mean, but you got it with your wine and your cheese and the subtle ways you correct how I speak.”

His tunic wasn’t thin, but he could feel her finger on his skin under where she traced her pattern and it made him painfully aware of the fact that he had never had a woman trace any patterns on his skin with the exception of maybe his mother, maybe?

Sakura splayed her hand over the stag design and then looked up. “Who is it?”

He managed to still form words. “Who are you referring to?”

“The stag. Who is it? He’s on almost all your clothes.”

“He’s the horned king of the woods, and the creature I conducted my graduate thesis on in the academy. He’s not as well known, but he’s believed to be the one who carries the magic filled from life into death in his great antlers.”

“Poetic.”

“I was told he was morbid.”

“I wouldn’t mind being carried off that way.”

“I doubt you have to worry about that anytime soon.” He reached out and touched her face, proud of himself for daring so. There was a faint scar that had only been bleeding and deep two days ago when one of the crab traps snapped and shattered. “You heal unnaturally fast.”

“I eat my vegetables.”

“You are still clumsy,” he sighed, finding another cut behind her ear that wasn’t as well healed.

He used a cantrip to knit the skin back together and reduce the scarring. She pulled back when he was done and ran her hand over the skin, marveling at the feel.

“You can just do that?”

“Among other things. If you were willing to learn you could manage as much I’m sure.”

Sakura grinned and then dropped her hand. “No thanks. I appreciate the offer, but it doesn’t matter as much if I just have you to heal things for me.”

He didn’t like the way he felt when she said it, even though he knew he would of course do what he could if she were in need. Maybe it was his pride she hurt. “Don’t count on me so much. I wouldn’t always be there if you needed it. I have other duties I must see to, duties that call me away to far lands.”

“You’re fast,” she said around a yawn.

He didn’t think that was a fair thing for her to say, because of course he was fast. He had mastered the Misty Step decades ago and could travel across the different realities and astral planes with just a bit of help. If she called he would be there, like it or not, but she didn’t need to know that and count on it. 

It wasn’t like he was exclusively beholden to her whims or anything like that.

Sakura put her money down on the table and Tobirama scrambled to find his own money pouch for the food and drink, but she was already walking away. He dropped the silver coins and then a single gold in tip, scooping up her coins and jogging after her to grab at her wrist. She struggled at first but he huffed, calling her annoying for fighting him before pushing the copper and silver pieces into her hand.

“You know these were all originally yours, right?”

“You worked for them.”

Sakura snorted. “Did you ever eat the crabs?”

He fought the sneer at the thought of having to consume the hideous, crawling creatures. “They’re perfectly comfortable in their habitat at the tower until I have need of their…buttered meat.”

Sakura laughed, accepting the money. “I think I take advantage of you.”

“No one takes advantage of me unless I let them. If I did not wish it, not even your pathetic dredges of magic could sway me to deposit a single copper in your palm, but be as it is, I may do as I please.”

She stopped in the doorway, looking up at him, and he though he saw her react to something relating to him; maybe his words or maybe his face. She was still like a doe caught in a wolf’s sights. A terrible thought pressed into his mind when he thought of her like that. How easy would it be to just spirit her away into his tower without doors?  His tower where only those he took could leave and enter, how would she fare?

“It’ll be cold soon, please keep yourself well,” he whispered, leaning in to brush the end of his thumb over the skin he had healed. When she blinked he was gone.

-

Night frost came much sooner than anyone expected, and the villagers rushed like mad to make themselves ready and save what they could of their late harvests. Snow was still weeks off, not until the next month if the pattern of years was to be believed, but the cold was ever present, crawling down the throats of youths and making stupid men sick.

Tobirama took to donning his wolf furs when he went out on more and more errands for the Lords and King who seemed just as eager to put his magic to use for them. With the cold seasons more monster came out from the woods and waters to try and grab what they could of man meat before long sleeps. There had been several smaller Basilisks and even a Chimera he had been tasked with. Most populations on the edges needed to deal with simple were beasts and he hated being called out to deal with something a trifle wizard could handle.

It was several weeks before he could find the time to slip away and find her again.

Men still fished, but he found Sakura outside a woman’s barn with her hands and wrists still dripping in blood. She stared off into the distance not really seeing anything.

He stopped at her side and waited for an explanation.

“Can you bring anyone back from the dead?” Her voice cracked like wrinkled paper in her throat and made him wince.

“No, that is the forbidden magics that I am sword to protect the world against. I can start a stopped heart and force air into empty lungs, and sometimes I can save people who have started to die, but I can not resurrect the dead, no one can.”

Sakura turned her hazy eyes in his direction, searching for his face. “Why?”

He wasn’t sure what she meant, but he felt like there was no answer he could give her that would put her spirit to rest so he reached out and magiced the filth and blood off her hands, then wiped her tears away with his own two thumbs, holding her face as she started to waver.

“You are weary. Rest.”

He tugged her into his arms and she let him. The wolf fur cushioned her head and she snuggled into it, helping him affirm his choice to don it in the first place. He brought her back to the place she lived, the place she sometimes called home, even thought he wanted nothing more than to spirit her away to his tower and claim ignorance when others came calling.

No one else was home so he set her in the bed and then went off to find out what had happened.

One of the women in the village had a sick birth and no one had been able to stop the bleeding. Sakura had been present along with the elder healer, but even Chiyo said there was nothing either of them could have done.

“She’ll blame herself, but she shouldn’t.” The wrinkle of a woman glared at Tobirama and shook her finger without fear. “See that she rests her heart and doesn’t take this into her spirit. She’s not meant for such levity. It’ll consume her.”

But when he went to visit the next day she was in the garden, salvaging what she could from the last frost and readying the earth for what would come next. Some of the teasing was gone from her voice when they conversed, but it was not as he feared.

“Were you close?”

She didn’t move for a while, still hands and knees in the dirt. “No, but…I never lost anyone like that before. It made me feel terrible.”

“You did all you could.”

“I don’t think so. If I knew magic…”

“There are limits.”

Sakura stared up from the dirt. “Do you have limits?”

“Of course,” he lied. It was what she needed to hear. “Aside from that, even if it was possible, there are things I am forbidden from doing in the King’s Country.”

Sakura snorted and went back to her weeds. “Ah yes, the King’s Country, because he owns all of this and all of us. How could I have forgotten about that?”

“You would hate it,” Tobirama admitted with almost a smile. “I don’t think anyone could tell you what to do.”

Sakura sat up and laughed, her teeth gleaming in the filtered light as her whole body shook in mirth. She grabbed her sides and forced herself to settle enough for words. “No, but I’d like to see them try.”

“Be my apprentice then. Come live with me in my tower.”

Sakura braced on the ground and stood, crossing the patches to get to where he stood. She reached up on her toes and traced her dirty thumb over the bridge of his nose, then she poked the tip of it. He didn’t flinch.

“Sorry mister wizard sir, but I don’t think I will.”

Tobirama reached up and brushed the dirt off his face then flicked at her own button shaped nose.  He almost smiled, finally feeling content with Sakura’s emotional state. “I’m probably better off. You’d drive me crazy.”

“I think I do that already wizard sir.”

He thought it might be a nice time to lean in and kiss her, but he wasn’t sure why or even where the idea came from. She looked especially beautiful with no good reason. She wasn’t dressed in anything elegant or especially fine. She was dirty and a little untamed like usual, but she was still too much for him. His heart hurt to lock her away and keep her to himself.

The ink on his wrist stung and he hissed, looking down at that tattoo he and his brother shared. Sakura noticed the distress on his face and reached fo this hand.

“What’s wrong?”

“My brother summons me. I must answer.” It would be a simple thing for him to travel through nature or air to get to his brother’s side, but he hesitated to touch her shoulder and look down into her eyes. “Please stay safe. It is becoming dangerous with the cold season upon us. I will return shortly.”

“Of course.” She managed a smile for him. “Be safe.”

After visiting his towner he took off looking for a tree he might fast travel through. The burn on his wrist throbbed hotter and he ignored it out of spite. He didn’t have any great reason for it, but he wasn’t very happy with his brother.

The summons that burned dulled to a warm throb as distances were traveled in a single step. He emerged from the tree and brushed the last dustings of dead leaves off his shoulders. The tree was fat and short making it perfect to walk through, if only he weren’t so tall.

It took almost an hour more, but he found his brother in the war room and frowned at the sight of so many other wizards around the far walls. Some stood up straighter when they saw him, others didn’t bother to hide their sneers. Tobirama didn’t spare them another glance as he cut through to his brother.

“What of it?” he asked, showing off his wrist where the mark dulled from throb to nothing. “You summoned me from on far with no warning.”

“As all others were summoned. I thought it best you be here to see for yourself.”

Tobirama edged closer and saw a map of all the providences under the crown. His tower was at the edge, close to the wilds. Oberon’s Forest was just past that.

“What do the colors indicate?” he asked, pointing to the fog of color that rested over parts of the map. A minor magic some simple mage made possible, no doubt.

“We’re not sure, but those areas are off limits. I called you out of there against the council of others. They thought it best to leave you there.”

Tobirama looked again and saw the fog hang over his tower as well as Sakura’s village.

“What is it?”

“Blight.” The answer came from Tsunade, a relative witch who was also known as their best medical expert. Her expression was hard as she faced him.

“Livestock or timber?”

Tsunade didn’t flinch as she admitted, “Livestock, and it’s spreading to the people. No one is allowed in or out. The Emerald Order is putting up their barrier as we speak. My antidote won’t be ready for another three days of curing.”

He felt something dark sprout in his heart. “How long have you known about this?”

Tsunade didn’t flinch when a lesser man or woman might have. Hashirama wrung his hands, looking nervous among the wizards.

“Brother, I-”

“How long!?” Tobirama’s eyes flashed with red magic.

“It’s been contained to Oberon’s Forest for years and hasn’t spread since it’s discovery four ago. I’ve only started working on the antidote when the forestlings brought it out with the recet attacks.”

Tobirama turned and Hashirama caught him by the elbow. “Where are you going?”

“To warn someone.”

“You can’t.”

Tobirama turned the full force of his glare onto Tsunade who stood like stone, but her eyes were on the map that glittered with green light.

“Don’t you dare stop me!” he warned.

She didn’t look to him as she spoke. “There is nothing to stop. The barrier is already up.”    

It’ was a month later when they let the barrier down. Even with her antidote, the blight adapted. And even if he had reached her the moment he found out about the blight, Sakura’s exposure to the woman’s death had been caused by the blight. It rooted itself in her and Chiyo before he even knew about it.

When he was let back, her body was already cold, but not yet buried. Over two hundred different lifeless forms stretched out in the open graves he was expected to help close up.  

Hashiram was no comfort. “I’m sorry, there was no way you could have known and there’s nothing to be done about it now. Be at peace, brother. ”

There was no peace to be found.

Tobirama took her body back and set it on the stone in the pit of his tower where the walls collected icicles. It would keep her from decomposing, but that was the limit of his magics. He hated himself for how little he could do as he turned stone into gold and glass, making a casket he could see her through.

‘There was nothing you could have done.’

Tobirama donned his darkest cloak with the wolf fur and took no fire with him into Oberon’s forest. He still produced a candle that, when waved over his head, summoned a will o wisp to it’s wick to light the way. The pull of the sprite guided him deep, deeper than any mortal man dared. The forest lost its sound as he trespassed among the ancient roots. Creatures moved, but they were as silent as the grave.

When his light went out Tobirama stilled and waited���.and waited…..and waited.

The breath on his neck made him turn just as he thought he might wait the rest of his night among the dead branches. Behind him. A dark creature loomed among the trunks, barely fitting when it shouldn’t have fit at all. It was black, but blacker than the night sky with its sick moon hanging low and full. Where its body stood Tobirama saw only void.

The horned king of the wood bent his head towards Tobirama and his antlers glittered like dark onyx. Among the prongs dozens of ghosts were speared.

Tobirama knelt in the wet soil, burying his hands in the earth until it soaked under his fingernails. He breathed deep, grounding himself on something greater than his own power. “I’ve come for her.”

The stag lowered his head even further until Tobirama could see the ghosts it carried.

“What you ask may not be grated without a price. You know not the price for what you seek.”

“There is no price too high for this,” he swore. “I have come to claim my own.”

“Then you may walk, child, but take heed, you may yet pay for it in unexpected ways.”

The stag touched his massive face to the ground and Tobirama stood. He stepped onto its head and ran up the length of his face, running for whole minutes before he reached the first ghost. He felt his heart pinch with something sick and turned, finding her there, beautiful as ever, even in death.

He carried her spirit in a ring and then poured her back into her body before the dawn could break. He held her form in his arms among the shattered remains of her coffin, swearing up and down to every old god he knew the name of that if she didn’t return to him he would tear them from their thrones and turn the world over in black fire.

But Sakura breathed deep as the sun filtered through the windows and down the mirrored channels into her chamber. Tobirama felt shattered by the color of her eyes as she looked up at him and then smiled once more.

“Sorry I couldn’t keep my promise,” she croaked, barely managing a sound.

Tobirama didn’t care, he kissed her and folded her up into his arms.

-

And that’s how he wished his story would have ended, but nature would not be so undone without consequence.

Sakura was well known as a dead woman, so in his fear he kept her in his tower and dedicated all his days’ hours to her entertainment. He taught her how to disguise herself and even though her magic couldn’t hold up for more than ten minutes, he risked it some nights when the moon peaked out.

“You need to exhaust yourself on cantrips every day,” he grumbled to her. “If you don’t your limits will never change. Push against them.”

“I’m trying,” Sakura sighed. She rubbed her eyes and sank into a nearby chair and then proceeded the slump even further.

Tobirama’s heart pinched and he ran for her before she could fall off her seat. She giggled when he caught her.

“Don’t be so neglectful,” he chastised even as his face heated.

She managed to roll her eyes, but then closed them when her head fell onto his shoulder. “Weren’t you the one telling me to push myself just now?”

“I was mistaken?”

Sakura chuckled. “You’re never mistake.”

“Of course I am. You’re obviously exhausted and your master is a brute pushing you beyond your limits. How dare he breath.”

“Maybe he should answer some of that mail that’s been piling up. Someone else seems to need your help,” she said around a yawn.

���Worthless plebs crying for attention. No, I’m much better off terrorizing you.”

She weakly reached up to poke the tip of his nose. “Silly.”

Tobirama didn’t mind how his face warmed or his is belly seemed to fill with the buds of something just as warm. He pulled her closer and carried her up to her room.

Halfway up the stairs he stopped dead in his tracks. Sakura was asleep in his arms but her pale pink hair spilled over his elbow and not even shadows could hide who she was.

“It is true.”

Tobirama hunched over her form protectively. “Don’t speak to me.”

Hashirama’s face crumpled in hurt. “Brother, how could you! You were sworn to uphold the order of the world, not defy it so shamelessly! They spoke of necromancy but I-I defended you. I-I said you would never.”

Tobirama took another four steps, stopping just one shy of his brother. The stairwell was narrow, curving up and around itself up to the higher levels. It would be impossible to pass if Hashirama didn’t step aside, but it seemed as if the elder brother had no intention of doing so.

Tobirama didn’t care if his eyes flashed with red magic at his last surviving brother. “Move, you are in my way.”

Hashirama took a single step back, giving himself more hight over Tobirama while holding up his hands. “Brother, don’t do this. You know you need to put her back. The others need not know, but the balance must me found again. She had her time.”

The image of her under glass on a stone table made his heart stab with cruel viscousness. The very idea made him tremble. “You would have me render her lifeless once more…”

His voice was a deadly calm.

Hashirama took another step back onto the landing.

“The others don’t know, I won’t tell them. I can’t bring myself to see you like this, you’re not yourself anymore, my dear brother.” Hashirama’s face was wrinkled with stress as tears pooled in the corners of his eyes. “You are my only and best brother. You’re the greatest wizard in the land and you’ve stumbled but that’s fine. Please…just…”

Hashirama fell boneless on the floor, his eyes fogged with what all the corpses had after days of being dead. His skin was taunt across his tanned face as Tobirama stepped over the body of his last and only brother.

 Stray bolts of ruby colored magic crackled across the stone. Tobirama didn’t look back as his cloak trailed over Hashirama’s lifeless body on his way to the bedrooms.

Sakura slept peacefully on in his arms, not even flinching when he kissed her eyelids in reverence. She was perfect in his arms as he followed her into bed.

“I will never let you be parted from me again,” he whispered. “Never.”

[eddieeatsass]

Stripped Bare - Chapter 2

Summary: Eddie gets an offer from his company to work in Barbados over the summer. Beautiful weather, all expenses paid trip, and a stay in a suite at one of the most highly rated resorts in the world. How could he say no? Unfortunately, Eddie soon realizes there were a lot of reasons to say no. His skin doesn’t take kindly to the harsh sun, his suite ends up being the size of a shoe box, and, oh yeah, it’s also a nudist resort. Pairing: Reddie (side Benverly and Stanlonbrough) Rating: E Warnings: Eventual smut, explicit language

Read on AO3

“So yeah, she’s probably one of the most bad-ass people I’ve ever met.” Bill finished off his story with a thoughtful nod, as if he was lost in his own memories while recalling them. “I would not want to be on the wrong side of Beverly’s fury.” He explained as an after thought.

Eddie had been listening to Bill talk about his best friends for 10 minutes. Technically, they were on the job, but no one had flagged down Eddie yet and he welcomed the distraction from the naked bodies he still hadn’t gotten used to. Plus, it was cute the way Bill’s eyes lit up as he talked about his friends. Eddie secretly hoped he could be on that list one day.

“And then there’s Richie.” Bill started back up, a fond smile accompanying his words.

Eddie leaned against the lifeguard chair that they were both standing under and focused on the way Bill’s lips moved as he talked.

“He’s a huge fucking dork. I love him, but I mean that guy has a bigger comic book collection than anyone I’ve ever met. He also never shuts up, we call him Trashmouth because-”

As Bill continued describing his friend in great detail, Eddie found himself thinking about Stan. He felt kind of guilty that he’d tricked Stan into coming. He’d be arriving later that day and he had no idea what to expect. Eddie had been there for a few days now and, granted, it did get a little easier once you got into the habit of keeping direct eye-contact with everyone you meet, but it still wasn’t comfortable. Stan was going to hate it, was going to hate him.

“Anyway, they should be here soon, you’re gonna love them.”

“W-what?” Eddie stared at Bill dumbfounded. Clearly, he’d missed something important when he zoned out.

Bill just laughed, not taking any offense to Eddie’s spaciness.

“Richie and Bev, I mentioned earlier that they come here every year. I get an employee discount that extends to friends and family, so they usually spend the majority of the summer bothering me while I work.”

“Oh, that actually sounds kind of fun, having your best friends around.”

“It’s fun until the 3rd time Richie pretends to drown just to get me riled up.”

Eddie laughs at that visual, picturing a big dramatic scene ending with Bill stone-faced as he returns to his lifeguard post, now unnecessarily wet. The image is enough to make Eddie completely miss the new presence suddenly behind him.

“I hate you.”

Eddie recognized the monotone drawl immediately. He doesn’t turn around though, is too afraid to face Stan right away. Instead he keeps his gaze trailed on Bill who is flicking his eyes back and forth between Eddie and the face behind him, silently questioning the situation.

“You’re not gonna turn around?” Stan asks.

“Mmm, nope. I like it here.” Eddie responds matter-of-factly, planting his feet a little more firmly in place.

Bill’s confusion finally gets the best of him. He peeks around Eddie’s body slightly, addressing Stan directly as he introduces himself.

“Oh yeah, sorry, Bill this is Stan. Stan, Bill.” Eddie supplies without moving.

“Nice to meet you, I think?” Bill says hesitantly, checking Eddie’s face for confirmation.

“Don’t mind him. He’s just worried I’m gonna be mad that he tricked me into working at an all-you-can-ogle buffet for the summer.” Stan says.

“Are you?” Eddie asks.

Stan sighs, but Eddie could hear the smile when he spoke. “No, I’m not mad. Confused, maybe.”

The second Eddie had confirmation that he could let go of his anxiety, he was whirling around to face Stan and talking at the speed of light.

“Oh thank god because I wasn’t sure I’d be able to survive this summer without you here! I mean this is so weird, right? Like ‘excuse me sir can I have a towel’ oh yeah sure let me just wade through this sea of naked bodies to bring you a towel that you won’t actually use to cover anything up. And this can’t possibly be sanitary, right? How often do these patio chairs get cleaned? And the water, I mean how many people do you think have free-peed in there today alone? AND WHAT ABOUT BONERS!?”

Stan has his hands on Eddie’s arms before he could spiral any further. Stan chances a glance over at Bill and is surprised he’s still standing alongside them. He gives Bill a mental check-mark for being able to deal with Eddie’s neurosis and then turns his attention back to the task at hand.

“We’ll deal with it.” Stan says, his tone surprisingly convincing.

Eddie nods in agreement. “Okay, yeah, we’ll deal with it.” He repeats.

Having gotten that out of his system, and with the new presence of his best friend, Eddie actually sported a real smile for the first time since he’d arrived at the resort.

“Why are you here so early, by the way?” Eddie asks, once he realizes what time it is.

Stan shrugs. “They got me a direct flight.”

Eddie’s jealousy shows in the way his nose crinkles up. He didn’t get a direct flight.

Stan just smiles and opts to change the subject.

“So, our supervisor is hot.”

Bill and Eddie both agree embarrassingly fast, looking at each other afterwards and sharing a laugh.

Stan got a grasp on things considerably faster than Eddie did. A week and a half in and Eddie was still struggling with the environment, years of sexual repression making it hard to normalize it in his mind. Stan, on the other hand, had adopted a rather naturalistic approach.

“Bodies are not inherently sexual, Eddie.”

Eddie huffed out a groan in Stan’s direction. They were in the supply room grabbing towels for guests, Eddie taking a purposefully long time just to avoid going back out there.

“I know that, Stan.” Eddie bit back with no real bite.

“We’re born naked, it’s normal. None of these people are here for sex, just to enjoy their time in the freedom of their body.”

“It’s not normal to see your neighbor, doctor, and teacher’s dick.”

“None of these people are your neighbors, doctors, or teachers. You don’t live here.” Stan challenged.

“You know what I mean!” Eddie rushed in response.

“Try and think of it this way, you’re never going to see these people again. So what if you know what Mr. Fraser’s dick looks like? In a few months it’s just going to be irrelevant information your brain stores away to be forgotten.”

Stan had a point. It’s not like Eddie was going to form any type of meaningful relationships with any of the guests. This was strictly professional, and the same way that you don’t remember every customer’s face, you also won’t remember every customer’s genitals.

“Are you about done folding those towels or do you need another minute?” Stan teased, nodding towards the small stack of towels he’d been folding and refolding to procrastinate for as long as possible.

“Yeah, I guess.” Eddie conceded, tucking the towels under his arm and following Stan out of the room.

They made their way back out to the deck and distributed towels to the guests who had requested them. Just as Eddie had handed the last two towels over to an older couple, he heard a voice calling him over.

A few seats over from where Eddie stood, a hand was waving at him. Being caught off guard, Eddie didn’t have time to concentrate on keeping his head eye level, and boy was that the biggest mistake of his life.

The man in question was unmistakably naked, that much wasn’t surprising given where they were, but what was surprising was that he was hot. So far, Eddie had counted himself lucky that he hadn’t seen any guests that he found particularly appealing, but this guy changed that real fast. He was tall, Eddie could tell even though he was sitting down. He had long limbs that stretched out from his body in an almost lanky way, but it worked for him somehow. He was well defined but not obnoxiously so, and atop his head was an unruly mop of black hair that mimicked the dark happy trail that lead down to…

The biggest cock Eddie had ever seen in his young life.

Well, fuck. If he hadn’t been staring before, he definitely was now. How could someone be so big while flaccid? Eddie almost bypassed being turned on just to admire how impressive that length was.

“Excuse me?” The voice rang through the space again, bringing Eddie’s eyes up to meet the pair gazing towards him. He didn’t look like he’d noticed Eddie staring, but then again, maybe he was just being polite? Oh god, or what if he had noticed and now he was calling Eddie over to tell him off. No, this guy didn’t look like the type to chew Eddie’s head off.

Eddie kind of wanted him to chew his head off... But, in a sexy way.

“Sorry to interrupt your inner monologue, I was just wondering if you could get me something from the bar?”

Eddie’s throat was dry. Something from the bar sounds great right now. He could chug a gallon of water right on the spot and still be dehydrated. He realizes with a start that he still hasn’t said anything since being waved over and the guy was probably starting to wonder if Eddie was mute.

“Yes.”

Okay, great job Eddie. That’s a start. Now just continue with what you say every day.

“What can you get me.”

Nope, that’s not it.

The stranger’s eyebrows shot up, a smirk that had no business being so charming taking over his features.

“I don’t know, what do you want?”

Okay, so the stranger was smoother than Eddie could ever dream to be, but he was also teasing Eddie, and in any other circumstance he’d be peeved. But this wasn’t any other circumstance, and Eddie had to admit it was kind of endearing.

“What can I get you.” Eddie corrected himself, choosing to ignore the man’s last comment.

He chuckles. It’s deep and throaty and Eddie wants to swallow it whole.

“Just a virgin sex on the beach, please.”

“You’re a virgin!?” Eddie blurted out, before his brain could catch up with his mouth.

The stranger seemed to stall for a moment, before his grin grew even wider than before.

“Well, I haven’t had sex on the beach, if that’s what you’re asking. Too much sand getting in too many places.” He played along.

Eddie didn’t want to think about this man’s ‘places’. Eddie wanted to die.

He decided quickly that the only way he would get out of this interaction with at least some of his dignity left intact was if he left as soon as possible. Clearly his mouth couldn’t be trusted, and neither could his eyes, apparently, since they were already wandering back down the man’s body on their own accord.

Eddie forced his eyes to the ground and mumbled a quick “I’ll be right back with your drink.” Which he’s surprised to get out without some sort of slip up. His feet were carrying him away before he even got an answer. He was headed in the wrong direction, not even relatively close to the bar, but he couldn’t get himself to turn back around. Now that he’d put distance between him and the hot stranger, his heart had started beating irregularly fast, and it wasn’t because of a panic attack this time.

Eddie flung the door to the storage room open, startling one of his co-workers who was exiting the room. Eddie gave him a meek smile, a “sorry for almost beheading you with the door” apology. The co-worker, who Eddie wouldn’t be able to name even if he cared to try, just returned the smile and passed by Eddie.

He only waited a few seconds before slamming the door shut behind him and slumping against the surface, face pressed into the hard wood. He groaned audibly as he let the embarrassment finally swallow him whole.

“Poor Jack is going to be traumatized now.”

Eddie just about jumped out of his skin at the sound of another voice near him. He turned around to see Stan leaning against the wall with an amused smirk.

“Who?” Eddie asked.

Stan nodded towards the door. “You threw that door open so violently I thought the poor boy was going to shit his pants.”

Eddie felt bad now, knowing he may have given his co-worker PTDS, post-traumatic door stress. Jack may never be the same.

“So, are you done being dramatic or do you need another minute?” Stan asked.

Eddie walked over to the stack of clean towels neatly folded on the counter, calmly placed his elbows on either side, and proceeded to smother his face in the fresh cotton. He let out the loudest, longest groan he could, letting the sound muffle through the layers beneath him. He kept going until there was no air left in his lungs, and then, taking a deep breath, he lifted his head back up to face Stan.

Stan’s eyebrows were raised as he waited for an answer beyond a groan.

“I saw a cute guy.” Eddie offered.

“Okay.”

“I made an idiot of myself.” He added.

“Mhm.”

“I need you to bring him a virgin sex on the beach, so I can spend the rest of the day wallowing in my misery.”

“Eddie,” Stan sighed. “You can’t just avoid him.”

“I can and I will.” Eddie declared stubbornly.

They had a stare down for a few moments, until Stan finally took pity on his best friend.

“Fine, what does he look like?”

Eddie proceeded to describe the stranger, leaving out the part about his big dick and stunning physique. Once Stan was pretty sure he couldn’t miss him, he left, leaving Eddie alone with the towels and his shame.

  Eddie managed to go three days without seeing hot stranger again. He didn’t see much of anyone, actually. Bill had switched his shifts around with another staff member for a couple of days while his friends got adjusted to being in town. Eddie had yet to meet them, the infamous Richie and Beverly, but he was sure it was only a matter of time. The resort wasn’t that big, after all.

Stan had gotten heat stroke within his first few days of working, so he was on mandatory bed-rest, per Mike’s instructions, until he felt well enough to work again.

This left Eddie working his shift one man down, and alongside employees he hadn’t gotten to know yet. He supposes he could try and be more social, chat up the lifeguard who’d taken Bill’s shifts, but the woman who now sat up on Bill’s lifeguard chair had a look of judgement in her eyes that reminded Eddie too much of his mother. It made his solitude much more enticing.

The day dragged on. Since Eddie was the only pool boy working that day he was constantly running back and forth to fetch things for the guests. He thought he’d finally caught himself a minute of downtime when someone new was waving him over. With a discreet sigh he steeled himself, plastering a customer service smile on his face before he made his way over.

The hand belonged to a girl, probably around Eddie’s age if he had to guess, who was easily stunning enough to be a model. Eddie was as gay as they come but that didn’t mean he didn’t have his few exceptions, and this girl could definitely be one. He didn’t want to fuck her, that would be a bit too much whiplash for his dick, but he did want to spend hours running his fingers through her hair and telling her just how pretty she was.

Speaking of, her hair was the most striking color of crimson he’d ever seen in real life. It was long, falling down her freckled back and ending at the dip in her waist. Despite being completely nude, she had a delicate gold chain around her neck that settled just between her breasts, adorned with a small key. It looked old, worn in, and Eddie found himself starring at it before he realized it probably looked like he was staring at something else in that area. He flushed pink before his eyes flickered back up to meet hers, a daring blue that rivaled the red of her hair but held the same fire.

“Hi! Sorry, I know you’re busy. I was just hoping to get a glass of lemonade when you have a chance?” Her request was accompanied by a warm smile. It made Eddie feel safe. It was an odd feeling, but not unwelcomed.

“Pink or regular?” Eddie asked, only a bit shaken by her politeness in contrast to the other guests he’d served that day.

“Just regular. But no rush!”

She sounded so genuine that Eddie couldn’t help but smile back. Just then, as if to drive home his point, he was being called over by another guest as she rudely snapped her fingers in his direction.

It took about ten minutes before he found the downtime to pick up the lemonade from the bar. He made sure to get the bartender to garnish the glass with a little wedge of lemon and an umbrella. It was silly, and probably too extra for something as simple as a lemonade, but he liked this particular guest and wanted to do something special, even if it came in the form of miniature plastic umbrellas.

He made his way over to the area where he’d last seen the redhead but instead of sitting in the spot she’d been in previously, she’d moved a few chairs over and was now talking to another guest. From their body language, Eddie guessed they didn’t know each other, but they were definitely trying to. The redhead was sitting on the edge of the chair, leaning in to listen intently to whatever the guy was saying.

He was extremely animated as he talked, his face lit up in an endearingly cute manner. He seemed to be a tall guy, but while hot stranger had been tall and lanky, this man was tall and broad, filling out his frame with strong arms and a round belly. He was quite hairy, but not in an off-putting way. Blonde locks eased into neatly trimmed facial hair, a round beard that framed his equally round cheeks perfectly. Eddie knew from a quick glance that he was hairy in other places too, but he didn’t want to be caught staring again, so he forced himself to behave.

Eddie wasn’t sure how to approach the situation, to be honest. He didn’t want to interrupt their conversation, which they were both too engrossed in to notice him awkwardly standing nearby, but the lemonade in his hand was keeping him from getting back to work. Not that he wanted to get back to work, standing around and people watching (see: eavesdropping) was definitely favorable, but he didn’t want to get behind on an already busy day. Just as he was preparing himself to step in, a presence from behind spoke up.

“You better jump in now before she jumps him.”

The voice was right in his ear, it startled Eddie so much he lost his footing as he tried to swivel around to see who was behind the comment. He saw a flash of black hair and dark eyes receding quickly from his vision, and he realized too late that he was falling. He tried to put his hands out behind him to catch himself but was enveloped by water instead. The water quickly filling his lungs burned, his wet clothes weighed him down, the chlorine stung his eyes. He knows how to swim, knows he should be trying to, but he’s too overwhelmed by the suddenness of the situation to think clearly.

Then there were arms circling around him, a strong pressure against his back, and in seconds he’s breaking the surface of the water. The body behind him doesn’t let go, which Eddie is grateful for considering he’s too busy coughing to focus on anything else. He can tell they’re moving but his orientation is all off, he can’t differentiate up from down yet.

He’s being pressed up against the edge of the pool within seconds. His head is still cloudy with water and panic, but the feeling of steady ground against the palms of his hands helps to ground him. He vaguely starts to register that his feet don’t touch the ground of the pool, and the only thing keeping him up is being pinned between the ledge and the stranger behind him.

At that realization, Eddie swiveled his head around, trying desperately to figure out who had been his savior. The face was too close, featured fixating into nothing more than a blurred cyclops from Eddie’s vantage point. He blinked a few times, trying to get the water out of his eyes as if that would make a difference. When he opened his eyes again, the stranger had leaned back as much as he could without letting go of Eddie, and that’s when he realized who had saved him.

Hot stranger. Hot stranger was holding him. Hot stranger was appraising him with a look of worry. Hot stranger was… Shit, he was saying something that Eddie couldn’t hear through the water in his ears.

“What!?” Eddie said, probably a bit too loudly.

Hot stranger chuckled, his smile even more charming up close. When he repeated himself this time, Eddie heard him clearly.

“You really fell for me, didn’t you?”

He was… making a joke? Right now? While Eddie was dripping wet and fighting back mortification and still struggling to get his breathing back under control? What kind of asshole makes a joke before apologizing?

Eddie knew his anger was unwarranted, a by-product of his ever-growing embarrassment, but just because he was self aware didn’t mean he was good at controlling it.

Choosing not to acknowledge the comment, Eddie sent him a glare over his shoulder. He tried wiggling in his spot, searching for leverage to pull himself out of the pool while still wedged between a rock and a hard place. He re-settled his palms on the granite surface beneath him, ready to hoist himself up and out of the pool, when he felt it. The hard place.

Hot stranger was still holding him up from behind, lithe arms circled around Eddie’s torso and chest pressed to his back, crotch rested against the curve of Eddie’s ass. The thing was, hot stranger was still naked. Meaning, Eddie had a cock pressing right up into the backside of his wet uniform, which clung to him much more now than when it was dry.

What happened next isn’t Eddie’s fault. It’s biology, a Pavlovian reaction. Eddie’s gay and right now there was a dick pressing against his ass. That does something to a guy.

“Get off me!” Eddie seethed, grabbing hot stranger hands and removing them from his body. He bobbed down in the water at the sudden loss of support but managed to keep a hand on the edge of the pool which aided him to hoist his body up and roll onto the deck, much less gracefully than he would have liked.

The redheaded lemonade girl from earlier, who had probably been watching the whole show unfold, was offering him her towel. It was a nice gesture, but Eddie couldn’t risk getting caught with a hard-on, especially not while working at a place like this, so without a word he pushed past her, running towards the doors to the storage room.

He didn’t worry about anyone else being in there, threw the doors open and let them shut behind him with a thud as he paced towards the back of the room. He removed his soaked clothing in the process, stripping down to his underwear and grabbing a clean towel when he reached the small hidden alcove.

He wasn’t proud of his next move, screwing his eyes shut before shoving his hand into his briefs unceremoniously. He brought the fresh towel to his face to soak up some of the water as his hand moved rapidly, spurred on by his anger and embarrassment and shame. It didn’t take long for him to release into his fist, his moan muffled by the towel. Once his breathing evened out again and his head was clear, he rid himself of his sullied underwear and wrapped the towel around his waist.

He gathered his discarded clothing, moving slower now, almost lethargic. He threw the garments into one of the empty washing machines, throwing in a few of the used towels that were piling up as well, so he could at least pretend he was still doing work. Then Eddie slid to the floor, hung his head between his knees, and began making a list of all the things he wanted to yell at that stupid, arrogant, unfairly hot stranger.

[bat-losers-inc]

Collisions in the Dark (Ch 13): Desperado

Summary: Tim suddenly finds himself surrounded by allies and enemies alike as he risks his own life to bring Jason back from the grave. 

Pairings: Tim Drake / Jason Todd

Chapter Notes: Desperado: A piece that seems determined to give itself up, typically to bring about stalemate or perpetual check. Also a threatened piece that sacrifices itself for the maximum compensation possible.

“You are a fever I am learning to live with, and everything is happening at the wrong end of a very long tunnel.” — ” Straw House, Straw Dog”, Richard Siken.

“Don’t move,” The metal pressed hard against his neck and Tim couldn’t help the gasp that escaped him. Fingers dug into his shoulder. Tim could feel the force on the grip, every finger discernible through the layers of clothes he wore.

There were more people now. Tim could sense them behind him in the shifting of air and clothing.

“Signal the Demon Head. Tell them to bring the helicopter around to our location.

The knife was removed right before Tim was kicked in the back of the knees, sending him crashing to the ground. Tim caught himself with his hands out of reflex. He didn’t need to lift his hands to see that the skin there was scraped raw. The throbbing sensation told him all he needed to know. The feel of grit in the wounds. Sharp. Taunting him.

One of the people behind him spoke quietly into a comm unit.

Tim didn’t dare to look over his shoulder, instead beseeching the earth under his burning palms. He turned his head ever so slightly, eyes on the shadow of the man, stretched across the ground across Tim’s shoulder by the midday sun.  “Please. Please. Just let me do this for him and then I’ll go with you. I’ll go.”

I’m so close, thought Tim. It can’t end here.

“No.”

Tim almost wanted to laugh at the cruelness of it.

Game over. No more moves to get you out of this one, Drake.

Perhaps there were more moves to be explored, but Tim didn’t want to play this game anymore. Better to lay down his King and surrender the board to his opponent. But still…

Tim thought if it was going to end it would have been more dramatic. Not this do-not-pass-go bulls—

The trio of gunshots sounded loud enough to cause a small rockslide. Tim cringed inwards, cheek pressed against the stone, bracing for some kind of  impact that never came.

A hand grabbed him roughly by the jacket and jerked him onto his back. A gun, still smoking, was shoved in Tim’s face, but it wasn’t the shiny instrument that could seal Tim’s fate that had his eyes fixed. No… it was the face of a woman with eyes dark, wreathed in smudged kohl eyeliner. The effect it gave off was like elegant war paint.

“Tell me your name.” Her tone was blunt and jarring enough to leave Tim staring at her like the words she was speaking weren’t English. They most definitely were, though there was an accent that Tim couldn’t place.

“Your name!” she shouted. Her hair, chopped roughly into an angled bob, blew against the side of her face. She dropped to her knees and pressed the gun to the center of Tim’s forehead.

Her voice lowered but her words were no less rough.  “Tell me your name before I kill you out of sheer impatience alone. I don’t have time to waste standing out in the open where anyone can see.”

Tim found his voice finally. “Tim Drake.” he said.

The gun fell away from Tim’s head, her grip losing all of its tension at once.

“Christ, it is you.” she groaned, eyes traveling to the dead men next to them. She didn’t seem to feel particularly bad about shooting them in the back.

Her gaze fell on Jason and lingered.

“You’re here to bring him back, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

She tilted her head, a scrutinizing expression evident in her gaze.

“Is he really worth it?”

Tim swallowed and said with some conviction. “Yes.”

The woman nodded then proceeded to yank him to his feet. He was pulled down a set of stairs that led into the dim interior of the cave. Tim wrestled around in her grip for a moment. He couldn’t just leave Jason lying out there in the cold. But as he turned to look back he saw two men lifting Jason’s covered form and following in their wake down the steps.

“If someone asked my father the same question about you, he would answer the same.”

She glanced over her shoulder, expression disinterested. “I’m inclined to say fuck both of you and your pledges of love if only so that the rest of the planet doesn’t have to suffer the consequences of your selfishness. The both of you would raze the earth to keep the one you love.”

Her smile was sharp and luminescent in the torchlight glow. “You want to disagree but I can see in your eyes that it’s true. There’s a determination lurking behind those pretty blue eyes that refuses to die out.”

Tim stopped walking. There was a lot to unpack in such a statement, but Tim started with the most pressing. “I’m sorry… your father? ”

She stopped walking and turned to face him. That disinterested expression was back though Tim was starting to get the feeling that it hadn’t ever left. Nor would it.

“Don’t play the idiot. We both know you’re smarter than that otherwise Ra’s wouldn’t be pursuing you to the ends of the earth. He doesn’t waste his time on anyone he deems beneath him.”

The pieces were fitting into place, like a jumbled up puzzle. Tim had been given the corner pieces and now he could figure out the rest of the image. Nyssa Al Ghul. Ra’s other daughter. Talia’s sister. It was no wonder Talia had told Tim to come here.

“You’re supposed to be dead.” he said.

Nyssa shrugged and started descending the rest of the way down the stairs. “And you’re supposed to be Ra’s’ heir, the one he would leave his empire to. So?”

“So, if you hate my cause so much then why are you helping me?” asked Tim as he rounded the last few steps and entered into a large cave cast in an eerie green glow. Tim’s stride faulted as his gaze fell on the swaying waters of the lazarus pit.

Nyssa smiled. “Simple. As much as I hate this selfish, teenage puppy love that you and Jason Todd have for each other. I hate Ra’s so much more. And if bringing Jason Todd back to life is what keeps you fighting against my father, then I’ll help you. If only to keep you from joining him. I don’t think the world is ready to see what two calculating minds like yours and his can do together.”

Tim hugged his elbows, eyes still glued to the lazarus pit. “I don’t think I’m ready to find out either.”

The men shuffled past them to the edge of the lazarus pit. Jason body was lowered carefully onto the ground. Tim had to force himself not to look away when Jason’s body was unwrapped, the sheet falling open to expose his face, pale and tinged blue around the lips. His eyes looked like storm clouds, covering out that pale green that Tim so adored.

Nyssa placed a hand on Tim’s shoulder. “We don’t have much time, but I need you to know what you’re getting into before you blindly agree to go forward with this.”

“What do you mean? Will Jason go pit-crazed like before?” asked Tim.

Nyssa shook her head. “The risk is not Jason’s. It’s yours. There is a reason that someone can only be brought back from the dead with the lazarus pit once in their life. You get one free pass, I don’t think anyone really knows why, but after that it comes at a price.”

Tim swallowed, mouth dry. “What— What’s the price?”

“A life for a life.”

“So to bring Jason back… I’d have to die?”

Nyssa smiled. “Not exactly. You’d just be giving up your get out of death free card.”

Tim stared into the depths of the lazarus pit. “So if I bring Jason back… I lose a life. And, later on, if someone tries to bring me back…”

“It wouldn’t be Jason. That’s for sure. He doesn’t have anything left to barter with death. But whoever does it, they’d lose their freebie, and then the next person, and the next… Ra’s has had his servants sacrificing themselves in honor of him for centuries. They give up their second chance in order to prolong his existence.”

“That’s vile.”

“It’s fitting. Death is a grizzly business. So why should thwarting it be a graceful affair?”

Nyssa’s eyed him as if he were a child. Compared to her, with what she knew about the world, he probably was one.

“So now you know the risks. Do you accept the terms of the pit? A life for a life.”

Tim nodded. “My second life for his. Anyway… I wouldn’t want a second life in a world without him. Who would I live for if not for him?”      

Nyssa smiled a smile all lips and no teeth.

“Good. Wade into the pit.”

Tim moved to the edge of the pit where a set of stone steps led down into the murky green water. He took the first step, water filling his shoes and soaking the edges of his pants. He kept walking until his clothes hung heavy on him as the weight of water saturated the fabric and clung to his arms and torso. He had expected a supernatural jolt to travel through his body once he’d immersed himself in the water. Nothing. It just felt like… water. Tim kept moving forward, only stopping when he was standing in the center of the pool, green water lapping at the top of his ribs as it rippled around him.

He turned, shivering, to face Nyssa. She was crouched at the edge of the pool, hands resting on top of Jason’s body.

“What now?” His breath frosted the air in front of him.

“Pull him into the pit with you and submerge the both of you under the water together. That’s when the pit effect’s will start to work.”

Tim waded over towards Jason’s body. He grasped onto Jason’s wrist. His wet hand soaked the sleeve of Jason’s shirt a dark blue. Submerged in the icy water, Tim’s fingers were almost as blue as Jason’s.

Footsteps hurried down the stone steps that led into the cave. Nyssa turned her head in the direction of the disturbance. Tim’s eyes slid past her head in the same direction. It was one of the men who’d carried Jason’s body down to the cave. He came around the corner of the stairs and jerked to a stop.

“What is it?” Nyssa asked, voice sharp and alert to the distress emanating from the figure. She got an answer, though it came in the form of a sword thrusting through the man’s torso.

Nyssa sprinted to the wall and yanked a spear free from the wall. She returned to stand next to Jason’s body, eyes glued to the man skewered on the blade.

The man stared briefly at the blade protruding from his body before he jerked forward, the blade dislodging with a horrible wet sound that had Tim’s stomach doing somersaults at he looked on. The man collapsed where he stood. Ra’s al Ghul scraped the bottom of his bloodstained shoe on the ground. It painted a red streak across the stone.

Tim’s grip tightened on Jason’s cold wrist. His fear was visible as the air before him fogged from his shaky breathing. Tim sunk his teeth into his bottom lip and tried to calm himself even though he knew that Ra’s had noticed it as well. Tim was terrified and they both knew it.

“Timothy, get out of the water.”

Ra’s stepped calmly over the bleeding man, bloody sword held easily at his side. His cold stare pinned Tim to the spot, like a butterfly under a magnifying glass.

“Don’t.” Nyssa hissed at him. She widened her stance, spear held at the ready.

Ra’s eyed her curiously. “Think carefully about your next move, Nyssa. I wouldn’t want to have to kill you right after finding out you’ve been alive for all these years.”

Nyssa didn’t so much look at Tim as angle her head in his direction.

“Remember to hold your breath.”

She planted her boot against Jason’s hip and shoved. Tim was standing too close. The weight of dead limbs fell on top of him, hitting him in the chest and knocking him backwards off his feet. Tim only had enough time to gasp a breath and wrap his arms around Jason’s torso before Jason’s body weight pressed him under the icy water.

Jason was the anchor tied around Tim’s legs, dragging him to the bottom of the sea.

Tim’s eyes burned as he stared up through the water, trying to see Nyssa and Ra’s head off against each other, swords coming together in the clash of metal against metal. Tim’s back knocked against the rocky bottom of the pit, Jason’s weight crushing the air from his lungs. His mouth opened in a silent, watery gasp of pain, air bubbling up to the surface.

Nothing happened.

He squeezed his eyes shut, and for a frantic moment thought he might drown before he could bring Jason back.

Then Tim felt a burning sensation starting up inside of him. Flashes of white light burst behind his eyelids. The pit waters were starting to take effect.

Tim gripped Jason tightly and gave himself up to the pit’s power.

The flashes came faster now, shuttering bursts of light exploding behind his eyes until, suddenly, everything erupted into a single blinding light. Murky colors came flooding in from the edges of Tim’s vision. They swirled and danced before Tim’s eyes, never forming any image or shape.

Tim’s lungs burned with the need for air. A booming rattle reverberated through the ground. The water tremored around Tim’s prone form.

He opened his watery eyes to see what had caused it, but his vision was already fading to black.

Tim jerked into consciousness with a gasp that filling his lungs with water. He opened his eyes to dark water. Around him the world was exploding with distant noise. The sensation was similar to listening to far off thunder. A dull roar that you felt more in your bones than heard with your ears. There was the thud of something large dropping into the water and Tim turned his head to see a chunk of stone sinking to the pit floor next to him.

His body seized and twisted with the need to breath, but his limbs were so heavy they felt anchored to the pit floor.

Something seized his arm and yanked him upwards towards the noise and lights. Tim blinked blearily at the hand locked in a vice grip around his elbow and let his gaze travel upwards to the dark hair that shifted sluggishly with the motion of the water.

Jason, Tim had a moment to think before he was pulled above the surface of the water into a world that was falling to pieces around them.

Tim crawled up onto the steps, coughing up mouthfuls of water with every breath. He stared up through watery eyes at the scene in front of him. There was a wide rent in the cave ceiling, streaming sunlight across the ground, light catching on the craters left in the ground by fallen rocks. The cave’s interior had been turned into a battlefield, groups of people dancing in combat around boulders and dead bodies.

Tim was startled to see the Batwing parked in the cave’s interior, ramp dropped open at the back and left that way. His eyes found Bruce and Dick fighting beside Nyssa, the three of them alternating attacks between Ra’s and his ninjas. Dick caught sight of Tim as he was pivoting away from an enemy’s strike. He lashed out with a kick to his foe’s torso and risked turning back towards Tim, screaming out towards him. Whatever he said was lost among the cacophony of noise, but the jerk of his head towards the Batwing got his meaning across.

Tim choked up more water, wishing he could stop the shaking in his limbs enough to get his feet under him and head into the fray. As it was now, though, he’d probably only succeed in getting himself captured or killed.

He knew he needed to move. Instead he turned his head and stared at Jason, his body hunched next to him as he hacked into a fist. Water streamed from his hair and shoulders.

Tim gripped Jason’s wet sleeve with shaking fingers. He couldn’t believe he was alive, but the evidence was all there. Tangible under Tim’s fingertips. Shaking from the cold.

“Jason,” his name came hoarsely from his lips. Jason shifted, eyes finding him under a tangle of wet hair. He squeezed Tim’s fingers so tightly that it hurt. Tim was tempted to pull free, but before he could Jason was stumbling to his feet, dragging Tim up with him.  

They hurtled forward into the strife in a reckless, heedless way that was possible only for the truly weary and wounded. They clutched each other, fists knotted tight in jackets and sweatshirts, bodies pressed flushed against each other, using the other’s weight to keep themselves upright.

It was a relief when strong hands latched onto them, lifting their failing forms off their feet. Tim was hefted over a solid set of shoulders. He stared disjointedly at Jason as he was lifted into Bruce’s arms, head pressing against the hard line of Bruce’s kevlar suit.

Dick ran up the ramp of the Batwing, Tim’s head jostling with each step. He was placed on the floor of the aircraft, back propped up against a cabinet. Bruce shifted Jason off into Dick’s hands and hustled past them towards the controls. Jason couldn’t keep his feet for more than a minute before they crumpled under him.

“Woah, easy. Easy.” Dick eased him to the ground. His eyes kept flickering worriedly to the fighting that the bottom of the ramp. Nyssa and her men wouldn’t be able to hold them off forever.

“Bruce, get us out of here already!” Dick shouted. Tim stared at him as he slammed his palm against a button on the wall. The ramp started to close as the engines roared to life. The aircraft lifted off the ground, the ramp still hanging halfway open.

Dick turned just in time to see a blade spiraling towards his chest. He threw himself sideways and watched as the blade slammed into the wall by Tim’s head and clattered into Tim’s lap. Tim couldn’t muster up the energy push it onto the floor.

Dick was next to him in an instant, hands checking him for injuries.

“Are you alright? Did it hit you?”

Tim clutched at Dick’s wrist, ceasing his movements. He was so tired. He just wanted to sleep.

“Fine, I’m—”

“Timothy!”

Tim words abandoned him as he watched Ra’s, now empty handed, struggle towards them against the press of bodies. The last thing he saw was Ra’s’ savage expression fixed upon him  before the ramp closed completely.  

Tim’s body gave a violent shiver right before he passed out.  

[thorne93]

Curious Conundrum (Part 37)

Prompt: You’re John Watson’s sister. One day you decide to visit your brother for lunch, only to meet the infamous Mr. Holmes…

Word Count: 1718

Warnings: language, flirtation, sexual innuendos (maybe? idfk), murder/crime/case related stuff, angst, jealousy…

Notes: Beta’d by @carryonmyswansong Not only did she beta, but I literally couldn’t have written half these scenes without her help. She contributed majorly, even wrote some parts of scenes. I am forever in her debt.

Also, this starts AFTER Season 2, episode 1. I don’t follow all the episodes, but it does follow the timeline and hit some major events : )

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 |  Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27 | Part 28 | Part 29 | Part 30 | Part 31 | Part 32 | Part 33 | Part 34 | Part 35 | Part 36 |

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sherlock awoke in another room, much like the ones he’d been on. He was lying on the table in the room, only to be woken by the little girl speaking. He was stumbling about, trying to figure out where exactly he was.

As he was trying to instruct the little girl, he asked, “Are you there yet?”

Suddenly, you heard his voice. You woke up leaning against a brick wall. You took in a large gasp of air, feeling all over your body for a bullet wound, stunned and relieved when you found none.

“I’m here!” you answered, wondering where you were. You started to feel around in the darkness, feeling...stone? Something rough. You were outside, you could hear nature - trees, wind, water…

“Y/N! Oh thank God you’re alive,” he said with heavy relief. “Where are you?”

“I don’t know. I just woke up. Where are you?”

“I think I’m in another cell. I just spoke to the little girl on the plane. We've been out for hours.”

“Hours? Jesus… Wait, she’s still in the air?” you questioned. Something didn’t make sense. The ground was getting closer to her earlier, and now she was suddenly somehow in the air?

“Yes, the plane will keep flying until it runs out of fuel,” he informed.

“Yes, Sherlock I deduced that much on my own…” You rolled your eyes. Honestly sometimes he thought you were some ordinary person.

“Is Mycroft or John with you?” he asked.

“No, I don’t think so. John? John! Mycroft? Mycroft?” you called continuously but heard nothing but your own voice back. “No. They aren’t here.”

After a second of quiet, Sherlock finally asked, “Are you alright?”

“I’m as alright as I can be. I’m alive, you’re alive, that’s what matters,” you answered wryly.

“Okay, keep exploring. Tell me anything you can about where you are,” he demanded.

“Alright. The walls are rough, like stone, not brick. I’m standing on--”

But you stopped, realization finally hitting you.

“Y/N? Y/N!” Sherlock called in panic. “What is it? What do you see?”

“Water, Sherlock. I’m in about two feet of water. I can’t see beneath it but--” You tried to walk, but as soon as you did, your ankle caught. “My ankle is chained. It’s not flat. Hang on.” You reached down and picked up the odd thing you’d been stepping on. When your hands came out of the water and your eyes adjusted to the dim light, you gasped. “There are bones in here with me, Sherlock.”

“Bones? What kind of bones?”

“Small.”

After a second, he whispered, “Redbeard,” in your ear, then after that it was radio silence.

You wanted to panic, it felt like you should be panicking, but this once, your rational mind overcame fear. You took a deep breath, just hoping you would hear from Sherlock, and hoping your brother and Mycroft were okay. You tried pulling on the chain once more to see if it would come loose, but it was futile. All the tugging did was cut into your flesh.

“Man, I really hate his sister,” you quietly said to no one in particular. “She’s definitely not invited to the wedding.”

“Nearly home,” you suddenly heard.

“Sherlock? Hey, I’m in a well. I should’ve figured that out with the water and stone but it’s so damned dark.”

“Why would there be a well in Sherrinford?” he wondered.

“I don’t know… fresh water?” you tried.

“Shut up,” he ordered and you rolled your eyes. However infuriating, you knew he must need to concentrate to find you, the boys, and the plane.

Several minutes went by while Sherlock spoke to someone you couldn’t hear, so you waited and waited until suddenly water started to pour in on top of you in the well. It wasn’t rain either.

“Sherlock?”

He didn’t respond.

“Sherlock?” you tried again, keeping the urgency out of your voice.

Nothing.

“Sherlock, please, I know you’re trying to focus but the well is filling up.”

“Try hard not to drown, as long as you can,” he ordered.

“Oh, thanks for the tip,” you shouted back. God, what an ass. But your frustration quickly dissipated when you realized just how fast the water was rising. What was at tops of your legs was now at your waist. “Sherlock, hurry!”

Sherlock tried talking again, he wasn’t talking to you but you tried to focus on his voice to keep you calm. Eventually, the bones were floating all around you and you eyed them curiously. These bones weren’t an animals as you had suspected. They were longer than that and then --

“Uh, Sherlock. The bones in here with me--”

“Yes, they’re dog’s bones. Redbeard,” he said with an agitated voice.

“They’re not dog’s bones, Sherlock,” you stated with horror lacing your voice as you saw the skull floating by.

More chatting in your ear, but the water continued to fill up the well around you, You tried to keep your head up and back away from the rising water.

“Need your help. I’m trying to solve a puzzle,” he said and you weren’t sure if he was talking to you or his other company.

“The wrong dates. She used the wrong dates on the gravestones as the key to the cipher.and the cipher was the song,” he muttered.

At first you weren’t sure what the hell he was talking about, but this was Sherlock. He’d never let anything happen to you,  so you left him be. Shouting at him, begging for him to work faster, or wondering what he was doing wouldn’t have helped.

But soon the water was nearly too high, at your neck and rising quickly. You braced yourself for having to possibly wade against the chains or hold your breath however long you could.

The water started to get on the earpiece and you could barely make out what Sherlock was saying. Accepting your fate seemed imminent, so you began saying your quiet goodbyes again. They were out loud at first, but then the water came up past your mouth and nose, so you held your breath, praying this would at least be painless.

-------------------

You weren’t entirely sure what happened next. You knew you felt a hand, a body, gripping yours and then you were warmer. Eventually, your full senses came back and you realized you were sitting in an ambulance, a warm blanket over you.

“Hey, there you are,” John said as he walked up, noticing you were more aware of your surroundings.

“Where are we?” you asked uneasily as you looked into the darkness. It appeared to be a country cottage that had burned.

“Musgrave. Sherlock grew up here. “

“But… why are we here?”

John waited a moment, then said, “I’m going to let him explain that to you.” With that, he glanced up and Sherlock was making his way towards you.

John patted your leg and stood, giving you two privacy. Sherlock sat next to you then.

“Are you okay?”

“No,” you answered.

“That's fair.”

Your eyes searched the area of emergency vehicles and you saw that Eurus was loaded up in a van.

“There’ taking her back to Sherrinford, aren’t they?”

“I’m afraid so. I told her I’d take her home.”

“That’s not possible for someone like her.”

“I know but I… feel so bad.”

You shook your head. “What happened here?”

Sherlock looked up, gazing at the charred home as he sighed and answered. “Long ago, when I was a child, we played here. Lived here. I had a friend, Victor who… well… we played pirates. I called him Redbeard, and I was YYellowbeard. Eurus… her mind was already so complicated, so complex that she felt as though she wasn’t included. I suppose the adolescent psychopathy drove her to a jealous fit of rage and she… killed my best friend, because she felt she was alone.”

“That’s...the most awful thing I’ve ever heard,” you confessed.

“Yes…It is.”

Lestrade approached then and said that Mycroft was found alive and safe in Eurus old cell. Sherlock asked that he look after Mycroft.

“So… where do we go from here?” Sherlock asked.

“Where do you want to go?”

“For starters, I think my parents should know Eurus is alive,” he stated.

“Are you sure?”

“No matter what she’s done, or what she is, she is their daughter. They have a right to know.”

“I suppose you’re right,” you agreed.

“So I suppose this is it, then.”

“This is what?” you inquired.

“Well...  you said you didn’t want me to say those words to you again, and after everything that’s happened I would assume you--”

You shook your head and closed your eyes. “I wasn't breaking up with you, you idiot. You just can’t say that to me anymore.”

After a moment he nodded. “Even after what I said to Molly? Can you ever forgive me for what I did? What I said? I should've listened to you. Eurus is dangerous, but my huge ego got in the way.”

You smiled. “At least you’re a big enough man to admit that. You’ve come a long way.”

“I’ve still got a very long way to go… a journey that I hope… you’ll accompany me on?” he asked hesitantly, scared for your answer.

You let out a sigh. “Sherlock, I’m not… mad about what you said to Molly. I was only hurt. No matter what happens between you and I, the fact that you chose Molly to confide in when you staged your suicide and not me will always be a thorn in my side. Irene too. Women that matter a lot to you, I worry that one day you won’t think I measure up.”

He turned to you and placed his fingers under your chin and lifted your face so that you were looking into his eyes. He was never this tender or sweet in public.

“Y/N Watson, how many times must I tell you that you are, always have been, and always will be enough?” he questioned with soft wonder and concern.

A tiny smile touched the corners of your mouth.

“And how many times do I have to tell you, that I’ll always say yes to you?”

“I guess we’ll just have to keep doing it,” he noted before he kissed you gently.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[helpingmaster]

Smart Blood Sugar   {Imagine… No restrictive diet. No crazy exercise program.}

Hi, I am helpingmaster. Although this seems incredible. But imagine...no restrictive diet. There is no crazy exercise plan. How does a 59-year-old diabetic chop 80 points from fasting blood sugar-in fact overnight? And after three days, he stopped taking insulin!

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Each cell in our bodies has a blood sugar “switch”…

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Maybe you’ve even known people like that… people who can eat whatever they want without worry. Lucky devils.

Well, this is why — their Blood Sugar Switch is “ON.”

But for many of us, our switch turns “OFF.” What does this?

   The hormone Insulin.

That might sound odd, because as you may know, insulin is the hormone that stores sugar into your cells. Without insulin, sugar can’t get inside. You definitely need it.

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Too much insulin over time is the same as having too little — both cause your blood sugar switch to turn OFF. Here’s why:

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Now, you can put in the diabetes reversal recipe to change your life!

The method is as follows: Put a simple step-by-step instruction book called "Diabetes Reversal Recipe" into...

  Smart Blood Sugar!

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It’s actually simple when you discover what drives a “sweet tooth” — it’s not something you’re born with. Sugar cravings come from specific “programming” in the brain, but I’ll show you the easy way to “Feed your brain”, so the cravings disappear.

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In fact…

You Can Lower Blood Sugar While Eating Sugar!

t may sound too good to be true, but I’ll show you a 60-Second “Cheat trick” that forces your body’s cells — even if they’re “insulin resistant” — to instantly gobble up sugar from your blood stream… even when you indulge in that slice of chocolate cake. (Your lab results will still impress your doc — he’ll never know you “cheated.”)

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he bite-sized snacks to keep in your pocket for an instant pick-me-up…

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How to order at a restaurant like a normal person… Just by requesting THIS at the start of the meal. Then order whatever you want.

Do you crave cola? You’ll see the easy way to kick a soda habit, even if you currently guzzle it by the case. This sneaky trick will fool your taste buds so you don’t miss the cola…

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This is a deal: "Diabetes Reversal Recipe" was given to a professional chef and asked her to design a simple and easy-to-use recipe...,

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As Susan C. from Franklin, TX discovered…

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[comic-movieheroesranked]

Cinematic Comic Characters Ranked! (Year 2009) Part Three

It’s rough coming right after a fantastic year of movies (2008) but 2009 did pretty well for itself. Terminator Salvation is our only sequel and we also get an X-Men spinoff with X-Men Origins: Wolverine. Kids favorite shows come out with Astro Boy, Dragonball: Evolution, and G.I. Joe: Rise of the Cobra, and we got a couple of thrillers with Whiteout and Surrogates. We also get the debut of the controversial Watchmen! Let’s get started with numbers #40-21!

*SPOILERS AHEAD FOR ALL HIGHLIGHTED MOVIES ABOVE*

40. President Stone/Peacekeeper (Astro Boy)

"Declare war! This is gonna get me re-elected."

How did this guy even get elected in the first place? He's an idiot who thought the only way to stay in power was through violent technology. It's his arrogance that gets Toby killed and it's his arrogance that puts the whole city in danger when he still decides to use the red core energy. He ends up getting absorbed by the Peacekeeper and starts a city-wide battle with Astro that only ends when Astro sacrifices himself and connects the two cores. Stone is then arrested by his own men and taken away.

39. Delfy (Whiteout)

"They don't make them like that anymore."

Delfy was just a regular pilot who just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. He's the one who first discovers Weiss's body out on the ice and contacts Carrie. Afterwards, she makes him her personal pilot as she sets up an investigation. This new job ends up nearly killing him twice: Once when he gets buried under fifty feet of snow with the others inside the Russian plane, and another when Haden breaks out and stabs him. He recovers and ends up bonding with Pryce and Carrie for six months until the winter is over.

38. Abel Shaz/Breaker (G.I. Joe: Rise of the Cobra)

"Is that Double Bubble?"

Although he isn't the only brains on the team, if anyone needs advice on technology, Breaker is your guy. I will always enjoy the member of the squad who understand gadgets like no one else can yet doesn't truly understand most jokes that said. With the nanobite warheads being the most dangerous pieces of technology known to man, Breaker comes in handy in helping the team stop Cobra from bringing whole cities down.

37. Agent Zero (X-Men Origins: The Wolverine)

"It's funny how innocent people tend to die around you!"

For some reason Wolverine and Agent Zero DID NOT get along with each other. Everyone would be joking along with everyone else then all of a sudden they're both threatening to kill each other. The years after Logan leaves Stryker's team doesn't cool off the tension because those two are ready to pop off again when they reunite. It's a pointless rivalry though because we all knew Logan would come out on top, and it's not because he's the main character either. I mean, yeah, Zero is really good when it comes to shooting bullets and jumping over high fences but bullets don't do anything to Wolverine especially once he gets the adamantium in his skeleton. So when the two clash, Agent Zero ends up exploding in a helicopter and Logan...remains unharmed.

36. Sally Jupiter/Silk Spectre (Watchmen)

"I don't hate him because he gave me you."

The original Silk Spectre and one of the few remaining heroes alive from the Minutemen. Sally Jupiter is retired now and totally missing the game, so much that she trains her daughter to be the next Silk Spectre. She reminds me so much of those pageant moms that now live through their daughter's lives to fill young again. Although I'd really like to know why, it's never really explained, only assumed, why Sally goes back to sleep with The Comedian, who tried to rape her previously. The result of their one night stand is Laurie, who ends up coming to terms with it by the time she finds out and confronts Sally about it.

35. Chi-Chi (Dragonball: Evolution)

"Just because my name is Chi-Chi doesn't mean I'm an idiot."

I liked Chi-Chi and I'm pretty sure the only reason why they didn't have her in the movie more was because they knew I'd rank her higher than Goku if they did. I mean if I were in the group hunting Dragon Balls I would have totally added her in once I saw her fighting skills but it never happens. Instead we just see her every time we need someone to flirt with Goku.

34. Maggie Greer (Surrogates)

"It's better this way."

Maggie is Greer's wife and together they lost a son before surrogates became globally used. This causes her to mourn in a unique way where she locks herself in her own room and just lives her life through her surrogate. Even though she cares for Greer, she ignores the distance between them instead for the new fun life she has as a surrogate. When the surrogates are destroyed, she almost kills herself but ends up connecting with her husband again in their child's old room.

33. Dr. Bill Tenma (Astro Boy)

"You're still my son."

It took me a very long time to like Tenma, and I was starting to believe that he was a lost caused until he pulled through in the end. First he completely ignores Toby when he was alive, treating him like a unbothered teacher would a student instead of a father, then goes into a huge depression after he dies. Because of this, he creates Astro, a robot version of Toby but then completely abandons him shortly after and then aids President Stone in capturing him and shutting him down. It isn't until after he removes the core from Astro that he finally accepts him as his son, returning the core and bringing him back to life.

32. Goku (Dragonball: Evolution) 

"Kamehameha!"

With Dragon Ball being a Japanese anime I was glad that there was a lot of Japanese influence in the movie. The setting, the background actors, even some of the core cast but you know who wasn't? GOKU! Like I don't understand the reasoning as to why they thought casting a white guy as Goku would be a great idea when Grandpa Gohan was clearly Asian! But besides that, Goku was lame! He wasn't exciting to watch, which is a huge shame because I loved the watching the show with my older brother when I was little.

31. Bulma (Dragonball: Evolution)

"Everybody has a price."

Bulma was my favorite in the movie. I loved the guns, loved how she handled herself with the boys, and loved all her cool technology that basically was the reason they got around (her compact motorcycle) and found the Dragon Balls (Her D.P.E.). Her interest with Yamcha was fun and flirty and when it came down to business she was ready to help any way she can. She definitely should have been Asian, but at least her character wasn't as bad as Goku's.

30. William Stryker (X-Men Origins: Wolverine)

"Welcome to the war."

Our mutant-hating government official is back and now we get to see how his connection with Logan came to be. On a mission to create the strongest mutant weapon for the government, Stryker creates a team of mutants, including Logan and Victor, to hunt down adamantium. When this costs the lives of innocents, Logan's out, which is bad business for Stryker since Logan's he key to his secret weapon. He creates an elaborate plan, staging the death of Logan's girlfriend, Kayla, and pinning him against Victor to bring him back so he can put the adamantium inside him and successfully create, Weapon X. Of course, everyone that's a mutant figures out he's playing them all and his plans go down the drain with the death of Weapon XI. His adamantium bullets are what cause Logan to lose his memories and they're eventually what kill Kayla, but not before she can control his mind and send him away for good...at least until he turns up again.

29. Cora (Astro Boy)

"Didn't your nanny-bots teach you not to sneak up on people?"

Cora accidentally ran away from Metro City to the surface world where she becomes a sort of leader to the orphan kids Hamegg takes care of. She's the first one to discover Astro and quickly befriends him and he proves he's a kind person. She's the only one who feels betrayed when it's revealed he's actually a robot, but she quickly gets over it and helps him save Metro City from President Stone. After everything is done, she's even able to reunite with her parents.

28. Edward Blake/The Comedian (Watchmen)

"This is a joke. This is all a joke."

The biggest asshole in this movie BY FAR. Like even though everyone had their faults and definitely weren't saints, The Comedian was straight up a bully working for the government. In his worst moments, he beats the shit out of citizens protesting, attempts to rape the original Silk Spectre, and ends up murdering a Vietnamese woman carrying his child! For some reason he suddenly cares about being a father when he wants to get to know his other daughter, Laurie, but ends up just drinking his life away until Adrian shows up to murder him. Even though he dies in the beginning of the movie, his bad punchline of a life haunts everyone throughout the film.

27. Wade Wilson/Deadpool/Weapon XI (X-Men Origins: Wolverine)

"You whip out a couple of swords at your ex-girlfriend's wedding, they will never, ever forget it."

Wade Wilson is very conflicting because even though he's missing his signature costume, he was absolutely spot on when he worked on Stryker's team. He's deadly with the sword, has the same healing abilities as Logan, and will never shut his mouth. Then things got weird. Somehow Stryker is able to gain control over Deadpool and turn him into everything he's not by giving him powers of previous mutants Victor has either killed or kidnapped. Mouth sewn shut, Deadpool becomes Weapon XI and is such a threat it takes both Wolverine and Sabretooth to take him down.

26. Kate Connor (Terminator Salvation)

"I'm a doctor, not an engineer."

I don't know why, but I kind of expected Kate to have a bigger role? Not that being one of the only doctors in the resistance isn't important, because it is, but I always thought she would be like what Barnes was, a second in command. Still, she was fiercely loyal to her husband and was his support when he needed her. He especially needed her towards the end of the film, as it was her hands that operated on him to save his life.

25. Dr. Lionel Carter (Surrogates)

"My son's death will not have been in vain. Not if it heals mankind."

Lionel Carter created surrogates because he wanted people with disabilities, like himself, to live a better life then his partners and company took it to a global scale and by 2017, ninety-eight percent of the world population used a surrogate for basic every day activities. After his son dies for being mistaken for him, Lionle decides enough is enough. Using all his resources he gets a hold of the weapon that killed his son to return the favor to the man responsible. He also creates the ultimate virus that will destroy all the surrogates and kill everyone attached to them. Thinking his plan will never fail, Lionel takes a cyanide pill before seeing his plan come to life.

24. Dr. John Fury (Whiteout)

"I never meant for anyone to get hurt, but Haden got greedy."

I'm not gonna lie, I felt some type of way when it was revealed Doc was working with Haden to smuggle the diamonds. He probably had the closest relationship with Carrie and their personal conversations were some of my favorite scenes in the movie so when it turns out he was working with Haden, the guy who cause Carrie to lose two of her fingers, I was shocked. I guess the silver lining is that once he was caught he didn't fight it. He explained why he did it then walked outside to the deadly snow storm, killing himself.

23. Ana Lewis/The Baroness (G.I. Joe: Rise of the Cobra)

"Do it. You already killed me once."

I'm so glad it was revealed that Ana was being brainwashed to act as The Baroness the whole time because I just could not accept her willingly participating in the death of millions all because Duke disappeared after her brother's death. No one is that dramatic. Still, as The Baroness she was a force to be reckoned with. She killed all of the men in Duke and Ripcord's old unit, gave Scarlett her first fight, and she helped nearly destroy Paris. Good thing for the Joe's that Duke's gorgeous puppy-dog face broke her out of her mind control and she was able to free him and help stop her evil brother once and for all.

22. Dr. Elefun (Astro Boy)

"Everybody has their destiny, Toby."

Out of all the older males in the film, I truly believe that Dr. Elefun cared the most about Astro. He never saw him as just a robot that can be used for his own personal gain (President Stone, Hamegg) and he definitely didn't think he was a mistake that needed to be destroyed (Dr. Tenma). He really took his time to get to know and bond with Astro, who was still trying to come to terms with himself. I think in the future Elefun will morph into a huge father figure to Astro.

21. Remy Lebeau/Gambit (X-Men Origins: Wolverine)

"You miss me?"

Gambit has been the mutant everyone wanted to see on the big screen ever since the first X-Men came out. He's always nearly made it in the previous films but was cut out at the last minute. Well now he's here and he was a little bit of a let down. He wasn't horrible but he had such a minor role. He's a mutant that escapes Stryker's island before going back to his thief lifestyle in New Orleans. His fight with Logan was cool because we saw his signature staff and kinetically charged deck of cards, but after that he just remains in the background. He takes Logan to the island then is the first one to talk to him after he loses his memory, going his own way shortly after.

[theemmataylor]

Austentacious || Emma and Deadpool

Part four, for you. The more I read back through this, the happier it makes me. You are the best. And I love this damn story. -- @violent-nobility

"Your brother did me no disservice. One of the gentlemen, whoever it was a that I had to dance with partially though the dance your brother and I shared, he merely insinuated that I might know the Duke better, more intimately, than we are. It's not... I mean, perhaps I should be more scandalized by how quickly they assumed things, but what else is the country good for if not to spread gossip."

Emma looked down at the gloved hand over hers and remembered again that this wasn't her real life, as much as she could get used to it. Somewhere there was Cecelia and Eli, even Oscar. Her Oscar (though the one she'd met here might be the next best thing.) Still, she couldn't let her heart warm too much at the idea that she'd caught someone's attention.

"I..." Wade. "I promised my cousin... He has hunting to do, or something. I promised him tonight before the ball that I would not keep him in the country past tonight. I cannot go back on my word." Though she hated the idea of leaving. Who knew how long she'd be allowed in this time, how long she'd have to get to know the awkward and cold man who seemed to actually take an interest in her? She wanted to stay a fortnight -- wanted to court him, perhaps.

"But you should know your brother is not quite as bad in social situations as you might give him credit for. He was incredibly kind to me, and I feel... thankful for having been allowed to meet him."

--

Sebastian barely had a moment to keep up with each new thing Wade was talking about. Regardless, the sniper enjoyed watching him come off the high of a fight. That was always the best part -- watching those who really got into it ride the high as long as they could once the fight was done.

"You think I would die on you? You think I spent all that time becoming the best shot just to let myself get hit by a bus, or to let my boss shoot me in the back to prove a point? It took you long enough to find me, Wade. I'm not going anywhere. And, honestly, there is nobody I would rather spend my days with, whether you are... like this, or if you insist on wearing that ostentatious red suit. I'm here. And I'm quite content to be so.

The merc with the million-mile-a-minute motor-mouth turned to stare at Seb, speechless. His jaw dropped and he looked like he was about to say something, but instead he just nodded once and looked ahead, touched by the reality of the moment suddenly. As they prowled around the perimeter of the house, Wade was uncharacteristically quiet. It wasn't until they got back to their starting point that he turned back to the sniper and stepped close.

Wade pressed a very soft kiss to Sebastian's ear, then another to his neck, his jaw, and then one to his lips.

"Real things are nice sometimes," he said, then touched his forehead to Seb's. "We should.. probably go check inside the place?"

-

Daphne tried to cover up her unexpected sadness, and for the most part, it worked. "Of course, we wouldn't want to keep you and your cousin from any plans you might have made together," she said. Glancing over, she saw Marcus walk back in then, his expression back to the one she knew so well -- the stone mask, the one that had only briefly been lifted during this party. Aureliano and Emma both seemed to possess some sort of magical claim to her brother's heart, and she only wished she could keep them in his life longer. Daphne had never known Marcus to give any woman attention beyond what was strictly polite, and now...

Well, at least Emma had entered his life at all. It was worth it to see a single beam of sunlight pierce the rainclouds, even once.

She smiled to Marcus when she caught his eye and he walked over to them.

"Brother, dearest, Emma will be leaving us tomorrow it seems."

Marcus gave a small nod and looked at Emma. "Wherever you go from here, I hope that your journeys will please you -- Emma." Her name was uttered just a bit more softly than the rest of the sentence, just enough to be noticed.

Always one to keep silent, Sebastian followed at Wade's left flank, always covering him, waiting for some weird new horror to pop out. Sebastian hadn't been a real part of a team in a decade or more, and he wasn't really sure whether or not he and Wade were the standard definition of a team, but Sebastian would cover him, protect him, at all costs.

Back in the maze, the tiger was surprised by the gentle touches, and he stood there awkwardly while being kissed -- not because he didn't enjoy it, but the thought of wrapping an arm around Wade and returning the sentiment wasn't something that just came to him second nature. Still, he managed to catch his doppelgänger by the hand, smiling.

"I'm not sure this is what normal people would consider real. The bunny corpses are gone, if you noticed." In there places were little charred spots on the ground. "But being with you is... nice. I'm not good at this. But I want you to know that whatever other sodding make believe happens tonight..." Sebastian rolled his eyes at himself and licked his lips. "I'm glad you consider me the thing that's real."

-

"I... honestly hadn't expected to have such a good time. I didn't expect to make friends. But Wade... well, there are few people in the world who haven't..." nope. Too heavy for party talk. "Anyway. He deserves for me to keep my word to him."

Emma found herself falling in love with the way her name sounded coming from his mouth. "Thank you. My cousin, I believe, found an old acquaintance, so I am not sure as to the new layout of his plans. But should I end up staying in the country... I do hope to be able to boast of more time in the company of the lot of you." She smiled at Oscar, and then when she looked at the Duke again, her eyes softened. "You've made my time here worth every second."

Oscar lit up at the praise; if he'd had a tail, it would have been wagging. His eyes were practically gleaming and he wanted to whimper with happiness that he had been included in anything to do with making Emma happy. There was no reason that he should be so pleased by this, he knew, but in a way, it felt like he had been waiting for her all his life, waiting just to help her in some small way. Blushing, he looked down and kicked the ground once, unable to actually say anything.

As for Marcus -- he had always wanted to laugh at the idea of falling in love in an instant. Now, though, all of his past opinions seemed entirely foolish; how could he ever have laughed at his own fate? And why was he such a fool as to fall for a woman he knew absolutely nothing about?

"I look forward to being allowed the privilege of getting to know you, Emma," Marcus said. "Whether you stay or whether you go. I understand needing to honor an agreement and could not expect anything less from a person of character, but only hope that you will write, on occasion, if only to let us know how your -- adventuring with your cousins goes."

"Your cousins," Daphne, who didn't remember if she was still in the scene or not but decided to be, said with a sigh, fanning herself. If only she were still single...

-

Wade looked at Sebastian for a moment, then gave a small smile before he shrugged. "Let's get back inside. Check it out. Start locking any unnecessarily open doors and windows. That seem okay? And check on my new boo and her boobies."

"What exactly are you anticipating to be caught by? And if we're to fight more, you need something better than a candlestick. Plus... the girl you're with... maybe if we're to fight, maybe tagging along isn't in her best interest. At least in the manor she can shut herself away, but if we take to the country roads, and then are ambushed..."

To put it simply, the only person Sebastian really cared about protecting was the one who didn't need his protection. She didn't belong in this fight. So they could stay at the manor until they figured out the point of this world, or they could leave her behind in search of answers.

"Did I hear you agree to dance with her tonight?"

-

Emma didn't argue about Sebastian, regardless of the fact that one had an American accent and one an English, they looked too similar for people to not assume there was a close relation.

"You are very kind," she said to the Duke, her hands folded together so that she could nervously fidget with her fingers. "I think I should very much enjoy at least a written correspondence with the pair of you."

Looking at Oscar, Emma placed a gentle hand to his shoulder, smiling when the music changed. "Would it be too forward of me if I asked you to share this dance with me? You've been so wonderful to me this evening."

"I have two left. Feet. I mean. I'm. I'd love to. Please. But I'm terrible at dancing?" Oscar looked up and met her eyes, eager and worried at once.

-

"Fuck! Yeah! Yeah, I did." Wade bounced. "So we gotta go back in there, or at least I do. And.. Thanos, Thanos, I think he's basically all-powerful, he can control reality and time and perception, so it's possible none of this is even real. I don't know -- let's just -- I don't wanna leave her. I said I wouldn't. Let's check out the house, I can dance with her, and then look around for some nice, big stabby-stabbers to abscond with?"

"That's okay, Oscar. I'm certain the Duke, here, will ascertain as to my lack of knowledge about the dances and how clumsy I am. And so perhaps I should apologize in advance, if you agree to dance with me."

-

Sebastian followed without question. "Do whatever it is you feel you must. I am here for you, it seems, as this world holds no other allure for me. I am utterly at your disposal."

As they neared the house, again, the sniper made sure neither of them had blood or weapons showing before approaching the lighted porch. "Go spend time with her. I'm going to smoke."

"Be safe. Stay vigilant. Yanno, if I lost you or something, that might be kind of devastating. So. Don't devastate me, Seb." He looked to be sure nobody was watching, then gave him a quick kiss before heading back inside -- just in time to see that sweet puppy boy go out onto the dance floor with Emma and proceed to trip over his own feet repeatedly.

Okay. Shit. That was pretty endearing.

Wade hung out near a wall and watched her with Oscar, a smile on his face -- and Oscar panicked and panicked but loved every minute of being allowed Emma's attention, although his cheeks were scarlet and he had never been quite so embarrassed before in his life.

"I'm sorry," he kept saying, at every mistake.

They didn't do a whole lot of actual dancing, but Emma enjoyed the hell out of Oscar's company, and when the song was over, she pulled him into a tight hug, letting him go soon after, apologizing for her own impropriety. "I hope you'll allow me another dance sometime in the future."

Her next move was to scan the room to see if she could spot the Duke, but her eyes landed on Wade instead, his red jacket standing out amongst the crowd. Emma smiled and moved toward him. "How was it?" She asked with a smirk. "The hunting bad guys, I mean. Not the painfully obvious sex you had." She gestured to her own head to hint at his sex hair. "Have you come to escort me away already? I'm not ready to leave yet, I'll admit."

"Oh shit, shit shit, shit." He tried to fix his hair, then turned to her. "Can you make it look less just-fucked? The painfully obvious sex was great, though, thank you for asking -- wait, you didn't -- oh yeah, monsters! Yeah there was a horde of shadow rabbits, it was pretty crazy, but we took care of them. Tip tip hoorah cheerio? I don't know British." He looked out at the crowd and smirked, then looked back at Emma. "That hottie keeps trying so hard not to look over here. What'd you do, bury a fishing hook in his balls and reel him in?"

Stretching to comb fingers through his hair, she paused in her actions when he mentioned the staring. Perhaps it should say something about her that she didn't even ask for more details about the bunnies.

"I'm sure I do not know what would give him reason to stare, particularly if it is who I believe you are referring. I've caused him nothing but one hassle after another tonight."

"Pretty sure he's doing that thing where you try not to watch your girl interact with another guy because she can interact with whoever she wants to, but holy shit it hurts because she's not interacting with you and all you want is for her to be close. Ohh, ohp, now he's turned away entirely -- didn't look easy. Damn, Emma. I mean, shit, if I wasn't madly in love with Seb I'd be into you too, you've got the sweetest little booberinos, but daaamn. He's into you. As he damn well better be. I kinda thought you'd go for the pirate, who wouldn't? Is there a difference between a duke and a baron or count or whatever the fuck rank of pirate-boy's counts in this country? Ha, counts."

"Wade, don't talk about my boobs in public. Pretty sure people here already think I'm a harlot." Despite their playful banter, Emma pulled her hand away. She didn't know why it mattered, it wasn't as if she had a lifetime to spend here. She wouldn't get to marry anybody.

Still, she didn't want the Duke to think her cousin was also her betrothed.

"I don't know anything about rankings, honestly. They do not matter to me." She looked over her shoulder for Marcus. "But I'd like if he didn't think you and I were a potential item. You understand?"

"Absolutely." Wade stepped back and held a hand to his chest. "And may I just say, you are the single most revolting woman I've ever beheld. I mean. Ew. Wow. To think, we share blood! My God. The very thought!" He winked, bounced in place once, then tried to stop smiling (and failed). "Does this mean I don't get to dance with you?"

"I've already told him that I have agreed to share a dance with you. I think. Unless you're too busy... what's the phrase? Screwing like rabbits with your doppelgänger. I'd hate to interrupt that."

"Whaaat? No, no, we were fighting rabbits. We screwed like -- wild beasts. Rabbits are known for being really quick, right? And if there's one thing that man knows? It's when to pull the trigger. Mmm! I could just eat him up! But uh -- everyone needs time to reload. So. Yes. Dancing. Dancing? Let's do the dancing, dear platonic cousin." He offered her his arm.

Rolling her eyes, Emma slipped her arm through Wade's letting him guide her out onto the floor.

"Let's." When they began their dance, Emma glanced across the room, past Wade, until she saw the Duke standing near his sister. "You'll forgive me, dear cousin, if I seem a little distracted tonight?"

"Oh yeah no, be distracted. You should totally do that thing where the hot chick in the period piece looks longingly across the room at the man of her dreams, while dancing with someone she really doesn't want to be dancing with. Do the thing."

As it turned out, Wade was an excellent dancer -- well, there were a lot of dances he was good at, and for once it was nice to get the chance to demonstrate that with his clothes on. Usually he did naked dancing, or mostly naked dancing, or getting naked dancing -- well, he used to. Before, you know, audience. Before the thing that turned him into a giant testicle with teeth.

"Sooo, fess up, what do you like about Broody McDarcy?"

"It's not that I don't want to dance with... wait. Are you calling me a clichè, Wade? It's not like I believe in love at first sight. And just because I'm fond of the quiet, brooding type. The damaged. Damn I'm a sucker for the damaged."

She smirked, and the grin only widened as the tempo picked up a little when Wade had to lift her by the waist and spin in one direction.

"It's a good thing you're strong, cousin. You barely broke a sweat with that lift."

"I might break a sweat trying to find ways to censor myself when you say things like that." He grinned. "Sooo, any idea how he's damaged? I mean everyone has a fucked up story somewhere in their past, right? What do you think his is?"

She smiled. "Is it weird that I don't care? It's not about watching the train wreck? But I. I want to be someone good for him. Or... I don't know. He's a Duke. I imagine there is pressure in some way from his family, expectations he doesn't feel like he matches up to.

"But when someone is damaged or perpetually sad or whatever, it's always so, so amazing when they smile."

"He's a duke, which seems to be a big deal considering everyone here goes white if he looks at all unhappy, and so yeah, I mean, maybe there's pressure. Either way, you notice nobody mentions hottie's parents? So they're dead. Or out of the picture. But probably dead, if he's got the title, right? So. Sad puppy duke McHotty Mcdamn you're going to have a good time touching that body... focus. Right. Yeah. So he's also a duke who's good friends with a Spanish count who somehow manages to be part of the English peerage as a baron, despite also having a most unsavory past. I think I smell a spy-yyyyy somewhere in this story."

She was laughing by the time he finished talking. "You have been outside with your own McHottie, how in the world do you know all of this?"

As the music shifted, and the dance seemed to change entirely, Emma looked past Wade once more, but Marcus was nowhere to be seen. A subtle pout showed itself on her expression with a small jutting out of her bottom lip.

"When I start being too obvious. Will you like, hit me? Or something? Like now." She met his eyes. "I'm sorry. You think he's a spy tho? Are there really spies in this century?"

"Do you not remember when I went around and left you for a while at the beginning of all of this? Dude, I am good at picking up on shit. Like, seriously good at it. Evil superhero, remember? And yeah, there's totally spies. There's a war with France right now, right? Fighting Napoleon and all that?" He flicked at his red jacket. "And wherever there's been a war, in the entire history of humanity, I'm pretty sure there've been spies. I mean, okay, so no, I don't have a legit reason to think he is --- it's just fishy. The mysteriously-absent Spaniard's an interesting kind of friend, right? I told you right off the bat that he's a pirate. But this crowd? Associating with a pirate? I don't knooow, I'd say there must have been some pretty serious service to England to get even the Count of Ampurias onto the Duke of Devonshire's arm.

"And I'm not gonna hit you, Jesus, woman. What do I look like, the abusive cousin?"

"Okay, fine, don't hit me. But just... don't let me be annoying with it. If I'm craning my head to try to find him, or..."

She sighed, shaking her head. "Tell me about your boy. The terrifying one standing in the only dark corner in the building. The one who has been watching you relentlessly. Speaking of spies or... assassins or something. He's is actually frightening."

"Frightening? Oh my god, yes, isn't he, though? He's terrifying. Could he be any hotter? I think he's -- I dunno, he seems kind of sad sometimes. Maybe I'm into the damaged ones, too. I'm not sure that people love Moran enough -- maybe he doesn't let them. Maybe they don't fight to get past his, uh, somewhat slightly kinda sorta prickly exterior. But either way... sometimes he seems lonely, and it fucks me up a little to think that what if, y'know, and this is probably stupid, I'm probably being an overdramatic dumbass reading way too much into it, but what if I'm the only person helping to ass-uage that loneliness? I mean I hope not, I want him t have all the love he can possibly get, but... I-dee-kay. It's a lot, sometimes. A good kind of a lot. I love the bastard."

"I would threaten him for you, but I think he'd..." her face scrunched into a frown. "You know what..."

Emma pulled from Wade's embrace and made her way over to Sebastian, who stood a little straighter when she approached him with such a determined expression.

"Listen," she grumbled quietly, making sure nobody was listening to her but him. "Wade... well, he's not really my cousin, but I'm assuming you know that. And I only just met him today. But what I do know about him is that he doesn't deserve some asshole boyfriend."

Sebastian's expression remained blank.

"I'm not telling you not to hurt him. I'm wagering he'd enjoy that. But open up a little. Let him in. Let him know that you care. Make him feel wanted. That's what he deserves. And he wants you. So don't screw it up, yeah."

Sebastian's lips pulled ever so slightly in the corner, hinting at a smile. "You're quite bold."

"I'm not. I'm scared shitless right now. And I don't cuss. Not normally. But... He's important. Don't forget that."

"You have my word, Lady Taylor."

She huffed, and nodded, and turned to find Wade.

Wade was standing exactly where she'd left him, looking like a completely lost, confused little kitten. It wasn't often that the deadliest man in the universe (well, sort of the deadliest, come on, let him live a little and get a nifty title like that!) would look like this -- only ever happened with matters of the heart, it seemed. And right now, he didn't know what had just happened -- at all.

It took him a moment, but he hurried over to the two of them. "What just... is everything... what?"

"Tell him," she demanded, getting an endeared roll of his eyes in return.

"You are important, Wade. You are important to me. And I know I'm an asshole, and I'm hard to read. People don't love me because I don't let them. I don't want to be loved because I don't think I deserve it. But you... I want you to love me. And I have this tiny, quiet, shy woman to deal with if I hurt you."

Emma beamed. "Damn right." She nodded once and looked at Wade, hoping she hadn't overstepped somehow. "I wish you two could kiss."

"We're not your Ken dolls, kid."

"The hell you aren't. And don't call me kid."

Emma looked at Wade. "I'm going to go find Oscar. Enjoy him while we're here. He loves you too." And she started to walk off.

"Um..." Wade turned and watched her go, then looked back at Sebastian, genuine fear in his eyes. "I'm sorry. I. Are... uh -- I should -- go. Um. Get. The stabby-stabbers."

Oh fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

He hadn't felt like he was actually going to be sick like this in years -- not since that whole dying of cancer thing. Abruptly, Wade turned and left the room, heading off to find a toilet where he could at least sit down on the floor and put his head in his hands, behind a door, and panic.

Sebastian watched him go, his brow creased, but when he met Emma's accusatory stare, and as she nodded after Wade.

Seb moved swiftly along the perimeter of the room. Luckily, Wade hadn't bothered locking the door, or the key for the lock wasn't present -- regardless, he slipped inside, turned off the light, and slid down the wall to sit beside Wade.

"What just happened? How did I mess up?"

[zipgrowth]

We Need to Humanize Education More Than We Need to Personalize Learning

Over the last ten years, my privilege has allowed me to participate in a number of educational arenas. I’ve co-founded both a charter school and an education technology company, and I provide consulting and coaching support to schools and leaders related to personalized learning.

In any given week, I’m actively engaged in trying to deepen my own knowledge, support the growth of others’ knowledge and internalize a wide range of diverse perspectives on how we can best serve children via more personalized learning. But “more” might not be the solution we need right now. Lately, I’ve felt that for all our good intentions, we’re missing the larger point. We’re not seeing the persons in personalized learning.

In the lead up to this year’s SXSW EDU, I found myself reading about how personalized learning would be addressed at the conference and experienced a visceral sense of nausea. The dis-ease I felt in the pit of my stomach stemmed from struggling to digest ongoing, well-intentioned guidance on how to better implement personalized learning at a time when hate crimes have increased year-over-year for each of the last four years.

Privileged folks, myself included, may need to hit the pause button on personalized learning, at least for the moment. Although I do not question the value of seeking to better understand and practice personalized learning, I also submit that we may be doing little more than tinkering around the edges of changing students’ lives at a time when our country may be doing more to visibly de-humanize our most vulnerable children than it has over the last 20 to 30 years.

Until adults stop murdering children for who they are, it may be time to focus on how to humanize, rather than personalize, our perception of our children and their education, and ultimately, ourselves.

The ideas behind good personalized learning practices should be welcomed into the classroom, but the level of confusion the term engenders suggests there might be a better linguistic frame to catalyze greater impact. Perhaps in a nod to what the term represents, there is no consensus definition for personalized learning, making execution all the more challenging. Teachers, very understandably, often wonder whether or not personalized learning is just the latest re-packaging of a past pedagogy. Or they may wonder how to just get it done without wading into the waters of trying to define it.

Personalized learning definitions also rarely reflect the term’s first six letters. For example, a person, does not, by definition:

Care a whit about content that is in the “zone of proximal development”

Connect with a teacher in a small group setting

Thrive because we offer differentiated lesson plans

None of the above are bad practices, but neither are they a priori personalized, nevermind humanizing, practices. We should not expect an intrepid educator to blow the dust off a Rift Valley Public School District stone tablet to reveal the above as among our universal educational truths. Without a humanizing focus, we may be wasting children’s time.

Moreover, the word “humanize” might be more universally and readily understandable than “personalized learning.” And more important, the opposite of “humanize”—“de-humanize”—may be more readily understood than personalized learning ever has been.

That concept makes sense to us. We know what a de-humanizing experience looks like, and we know what it’s like to humanize an individual student, with all their personality quirks and complexities, versus talking about one in the abstract. It’s a subtle shift in terminology, but it may position more educators to self-assess their practices more effectively by thinking in terms of humanizing learning versus personalizing learning.

Take the following two statements for example. Which one feels like it might be more easily implemented for all children?

Self-paced learning leads to greater student outcomes

Telling students they can't achieve something because of who they are is a bad idea

The first sentence may be easily implementable for some practitioners, but it can also carry a lot of complex baggage for teachers, such as thinking about whether or not some students are moving too fast or too slow.

The second sentence is more akin to an educational Hippocratic Oath. We shouldn’t tell kids they can’t do something because of who they are—whether that is due to the color of their skin, the way they speak, their personality or any other trumped-up basis for discrimination. It would be hard (though sadly not impossible for some) to criticize that position. Such clarity may be useful because the needs of our neediest children start with the requirement to be humanized.

Most of us are wired to feel it when we are trampling on someone’s humanity. No one feels it, not in the soul, when a child isn’t able to choose where to sit to do his work; the same gut check isn’t available.

Is it oversimplification to spell out what might ought to be painfully obvious? When we look across our country and see so many children’s futures—especially black and brown children’s futures—mowed down by the de-humanizing practices both intentional and unintentional taking place every day in- and outside of our nation’s classrooms, oversimplification starts to sound nothing less than insulting.

The impact of teacher-student relationships is well researched. It might also be the best way to humanize children’s education. Is it the most impactful factor in their success? No, that honor goes to teacher excellence. However, I suspect that implicit in excellent teachers’ practice is the development of humanizing relationships with children as the foundation for the education that follows.

There’s plenty we can do to better connect educators and students. We can start by considering the following questions:How well do we support teachers to consistently and meaningfully connect with families? How well do your own children’s teachers know them? What might be necessary to humanize children who look different from the teaching corps that serves them? Can we look ourselves in the mirror and say we've done everything we can to recognize children’s humanity?

I submit we have not, and that it is irresponsible to continue grappling with what personalized learning is or looks like without focusing on our children’s humanity.

If we must,, we can still serve students a blend of the buzzword-friendly education word salad popular today. This is not an excuse to delay providing a “rigorous, 21st century, adaptive, mindful content playlist with SEL-infused foam, served over a bed of STEAM-ed, empathy-based student voices and choices.” We can still order from that menu.

It is, however, a call to say that, if we increase the magnification of our child-centric lens, we should see that we are not moving fast enough for them. We don’t yet understand how to operationalize personalized learning at scale—and that’s OK. Focusing on honoring a child’s humanity might help. And it may result in better student outcomes faster.

In contrast to personalized learning’s relative opacity, plainly stated questions can illuminate if we are humanizing a child’s education:

Did I see my students today for who they are and can be? Would my students know?

Did I make a new connection or deepen an existing relationship with my students today?

How would each of my students know I truly care about them?

Did I demonstrate my own humanity to my students today?

Did I do anything today to oppress a child’s humanity? How can I be sure?

By humanizing education, we can be certain we also personalize it. The converse is not necessarily true, and therein lies the problem. Let’s get out of our heads and go straight to the heart of the issue: no amount of personalized learning will fill the soul-sized black hole we create when we fail to recognize a child’s humanity.

We Need to Humanize Education More Than We Need to Personalize Learning published first on https://medium.com/@GetNewDLBusiness