#Bruce loves the idea of death so fucking much i dont think he feels human when he's not near death both metaphorically and physically

[psalmsofpsychosis]

You: power couple

Me, An Intellectual: Alfred and 13 years old Bruce giving each other military salute before Alfred follows Bruce to basically their deathbeds, knowing full well that Bruce is leading them both to where devil dares not look but he'd rather die besides Bruce than live safe on his own anyway

[weareallfallengods]

Survival

Writing prompt:

If you’re over 25 and haven’t done something remarkable, you are hunted down and killed. Some people invent things. Some make cures for diseases. Others become established members of their community. You’re pushing 30, and somehow not dead yet, even though you cant think of a single thing you’ve done thats remarkable in any way. Why aren’t you dead?

I write for adults about adult themes with adult language. I try to tag possible triggers (but I know I'm not going to get all of them), so if violence or implied death or cussing bothers you, you'll probably want to find a different author.

********************************************

Somehow, that date came up again. Not quite sure how, but somehow, the number circled on my shitty wall calendar with the coffee splatter on it managed to be today. Again. It's been doing that for 5 years now.

At first I wanted to be a surgeon- save people's lives, make a difference, all that shit. Yeah, I was caught up in the hype for a while too. Just like everyone. Thought I'd make some ground-breaking discovery and change the world. Just like everyone. And then, at 22, I flunked out of med school. That was it. Dream over, kaput, fin.

When I opened my termination letter, it was like reading a death sentence. 10 years of prep and study down the drain. 3 years left. 3 years, and no idea what to do. No clue what I could do to save my own life after all those years learning how to save others.I drank for a solid month. I dont even remember that month now. My only memento from it is an entire skip of liquor bottles. It's a miracle I didn't die from alcohol poisoning. Not that I didn't try.

See, I was afraid. Scared, actually. Terrified would be more accurate, if I'm honest. I knew I only had 3 years left until they came for me. Unless I managed to do something extraordinary within the next 3 years, they'd come for me, and the only thing that would remain is a 2 paragraph obituary in the local paper, followed by a vacancy announcement. When you're suddenly forced to confront your own imminent demise, and see every dream, hope and aspiration you'd had evaporate, right in front of your eyes, its perfectly natural to drown that in a swimming pool of vodka.

But then, after a month of drowning, and a week of curing a hangover that would make Satan shudder, I got angry. Like Bruce Banner angry. As I was leaving an all night diner, the notice board caught my eye. Having nothing better to do with my life, I stood there for a while just reading every single card in detail, every single lost cat, every used car, every 5k charity run. And then I saw it. And I thought, "You know what? Fuck it, why not. I've spent all this time trying to do one thing that I've never actually done just whatever I feel like, had hobbies, anything really. Why the fuck not."

And that's how I ended up 2 days later in some shity warehouse district, rolling around on a mat with some dude I didnt even know, sweating and swearing profusely and having the time of my life. "Sasha's Self Defense" it said on the small, weathered and rusted sign on the brick wall out front, next to a door that looked like it had been transported straight from the proverbial gulag.

I'd naively thought this was going to be one of those Karate Kid knock offs for some reason when I first arrived. Sasha soon disabused me of that notion. In fact, when he saw I'd brought a new gi in a duffle bag, he laughed so hard he had to slap his ass down on a rickety folding chair just to keep breathing. Once he calmed his mirth at my expense, he let me know in a no-nonsense, 'I'm an old-timer and seen some shit in my day' heavily accented tone that this would be a class that focused on survival at all costs. "No bullshit wax on-wax off," were his exact words I believe.

And boy was he right. When I told him I'd set aside my year's tuition for lesson payments, well, wouldn't you know it, I became his most prized pupil; I quickly learned this was not a good thing. It meant 14 hours a day of the most humiliatingly punishing activity ever dreamed up by Moscow's Finest. I couldnt even move the morning after my first day. But somehow I limped my battered frame down to the bus stop and was only an hour late. Ha, only. Sasha seemed to take it as a personal insult. The only thing he hated less than sloppiness was tardiness it seemed. Apparently the 10th Circle of Hell was reserved for those who dared be late. And he made you earn your way out of that circle.

His only saving grace was fairness. If I had to suffer, at least I wasnt alone. Well, at first anyway. The few other students that suffered his wrath along side me doing slavic folk dances with wrist and ankle weights very quickly learned that this wasn't the type of class they had thought it was and soon I was alone with Sasha.

On the days I did well, I got treated to pierogies. Oh man, I lived for those pierogies. They were made by angels and served by someone I can only describe as if Jesus came back as a woman. Who was Russian. And spoke even less english than Sasha, if that was possible. His sister was as completely opposite to that sadistic maniac as it was possible to be and still be a human being. Where he was loud, she was soft. Where he was tough, she was gentle. Where he was strict, she was generous, even indulgent. Blonde to his brunette. Slim to his barrel chest. Cousin by marriage, I think they said. Well, relatives of some kind anyway. And she was the only one who could make him laugh. And when he laughed, the whole block knew! He was just that loud, that boisterous, with everything he did.

But I loved his little Anya. Just like everyone. But like in a wholesome, mom-ish kind of way. I loved her because I got to sit for an hour when she was around. Because she"d always tuck a to-go container of pierogies into my bag. Because she'd chide Sasha for pushing me too hard. In short, she was an angel.

But I have to hand it Sasha- in 4 months, he took a scrawny bookworm into someone who could pose for Men's Health. In 6 months, I could beat Ivan, his partner, in 5/10 sparring matches. In 7 months, I ran a marathon. In 9, he had me enter a triathalon. And I made it into the top 50 out of 500 entrants. Not too bad if I say so myself. In 12 months, I was beating Ivan almost every time.

And that's when the other Ivan showed up. After a year, Sasha decided it was time I learned weaponry. After all, no real fight was fair, he said. And Ivan (another cousin? Sasha had one heck of an extended family) instructed me on everything from broken beer bottles, to knives and pool cues. And my medical training paid off, because more often than not, I was the one stitching myself up if training got a little rough that day.

Eventually, I moved into the gym. Not sure how it happened, but I think I just got too tired to leave one day and never really left. Sasha didnt seem to mind since it meant I wasnt ever late again. Plus the coffee he imported was the best thing ever. Like it was so good that's probably the Extraordinary Thing he did to live as long as he had.

The days just melted together, into one long symphony of beautiful exhaustion and physical torment, as I poured myself into the first activity I could remember doing purely because I wanted to, something that numbed the dread of the finality of my life expectancy.

But then one day, one specific day, the one I'd been dreading in the back of my mind for a year came around.

They found me.

I guess they were a little slow in finding me, not surprising since I'd basically just disappeared from my old life, no forwarding address type thing. It wasnt intentional, it just sort of happened, what with me diving head first into something purely for me, without the thought of doing it for someone else. But they found me. Just like they find everybody.

See, it doesnt matter if you try to run, if you move, or change your name. They always find you eventually. I just hadn't thought about it in a long while. That year was the first time since I was probably 14 that I'm hadn't thought about the Gardeners. I guess that's why it surprised me so much.

Yeah, Gardeners. I dont know who came up with the name, in guess some misguided attempt at a positive PR spin bullshit to pass off squads of government assassins who's only job was to track down the NCs of the world and eliminate them. Sorry, NCs- Non-Contributors; the people who hit their expiration date without doing something noteworthy, something that was deemed to "advance or bolster the Human Condition" to borrow a phrase from the civics classes we had to take every fucking year of school. A cutesy sounding name that was supposed to make the government sound like a benevolent old couple pulling weeds from their garden of humanity. The worst lies always sound the sweetest, dont they?

And I was now 25.

It happened a few weeks after my birthday. Just another routine day for me, going for a light 5k run after my soak in a mineral bath. Light rain, most of the streetlights out, the few lights on in the warehouse district reflected beautifully off the streets. That's why I ran at night, all the colors changed that normally bleak neighborhood into something beautiful. It was just one little thing to balance out the harshness of reality, and I reveled in it.

I don't actually remember what happened exactly. I do recall seeing a suspiciously conspicuous homeless guy huddled under a loading dock awning, and then just a flash of movement from the corner of my eye. I think it happened really quickly; at least that's what Sasha said the next morning as he was making arrangements for me to visit another cousin of his "back in the old country". It could have been. God, after seeing the bodies around me in the aftermath, I hope, for their sake, that it was fast. 5 bodies. All still. I still remember my breath turning to blue fog, blurring the details of them. Helping me to be able to pretend I didn't see the blood mixing with the rain and oil, spreading out over the concrete like a macabre inversion of the cloudy sky above.

I'm glad they wore masks. It's bad enough having that scene burned into my brain forever, without specific people's faces being etched there as well. I'm glad I dont see their faces in my mind every time I close my eyes. I just wish I could still enjoy the rain. They managed to take that from me, even if I'm still breathing, so I guess they didnt completely fail. They just killed a part of my soul instead. But hey, there's plenty of people that don't like the rain, right? But I bet they don't smell blood when it does though.

And that was pretty much it. No sirens, no manhunt, nothing. Before I could process what was happening, I was on a bus, headed for "the old country", which, as near as I could tell, looked an awful lot like Pittsburg. Sasha's 'cousin' met me at the bus depot there, a man of very few words. Not as loud as his cousin, Zhena tended to communicate with looks, grunts and shrugs mostly. Same work ethic though.

And then the cycle repeated- 14 months this time before they caught up with me. Too bad that Zhena got caught up in it, he was a great guy. He and I didn't really become close or buddies or anything, but it still hurt to see what happened to him. To what was left of him anyway. The Gardeners definitely were trying to send a message with that. To quote an old wise man, "I didnt want to know, but now I do, and I'm telling you, you dont want to know." And that's coming from someone who was training to become a surgeon, so just trust me on this one.

This time, they were waiting for me. I think they'd planned on Zhena being enough of a distraction that they'd be able to take me out easily, but since since I woke up the next day on the floor of the sparring ring in a too large pool of blood that wasnt my own, I'd say they failed. The difference this time was I was on my own. No 'cousins' to call in favors from. No family I could call because I didnt want them getting a visit from the Gardeners either. I was alone this time.

Weirdly, I was actually OK with that. I'd been surrounded by family, teachers, advisors, tutors for so long that solitude was actually kind of nice. I could hear myself think my own thoughts for the first time in what seemed like forever.

I'm not ashamed to say that I took what little of value there was from Zhena's gym (I knew him well enough to know that Sasha was his only family) so that I could get a seedy hotel for a while. I did at least have the decency to let Sasha know, and that that would be the last he ever heard from me, to keep him out of trouble. Bad enough that 10 people were already dead, I didn't want Sasha or Anya's name added to that list because of me.

And so I vanished. Completely. Sure I travelled, kept studying and training like I had been, but never staying longer than a few months, never using the same name, copying other random people's habits and patterns so I didnt have one of my own for them to track down. Yeah it was cliche, but hey, I figured my dad watching all those spy flicks when I was young had to be good for something, right?

Sometimes I was a baker, sometimes a delivery driver, even a dock hand. Whatever it took to make a buck so I could eat.

I got really good at other things too. Like disposing of bodies. Not really a skill I ever thought I'd want or need, but Necessity is a harsh and demanding teacher. Sadly, my skill as a surgeon came in handy- bodies are easier to get rid of when they're in smaller pieces. And people are easier to turn into bodies when you know how they're put together intimately. Not what I had in mind for my life, but since it was the choice between this or dying, well, I guess I can put up with it.

I suppose that catches us all up to the present, more or less. OK yeah theres a lot that's gone down between Pittsburg and now, but it was all pretty much the same: lather, rinse, repeat. Literally sometimes. Those were the days it felt like there wasnt enough soap in the world to get all the blood off.

So here I am, I'm my single room in Kandahar, staring at the date that had somehow come up again. Every year, they send someone. Usually a team. And I survive. No matter how they come at me, or when or how many. I survive.

And I'm sitting here, staring at the calendar, steaming cup of espresso, just staring, as a light breeze fluttered the corner of the calendar page, sending the orchids dancing in the vase next to it. All I could think is, "How? How does this keep happening? I'm not even supposed to be here, not supposed to be alive."

As I raised my cup of espresso, something slid under my door. "OK that's weird," I said aloud as I stood.

The chair made an ungodly screech as I pushed it back and made my way over to where a small, cream colored envelope sat on the floor, a couple inches from the bottom of the door. It was heavy for it's size, but not because anything was in it, just the paper was that thick. Probably hand-made. It's odd the little things you notice in times of stress. Heavy, rough paper, no postmark, nothing written on the outside, just the flap tucked in, not even sealed. Reminded me of how my mother used to give out birthday cards. I always thought that was a little weird, but it was just one of her quirks that made her even more endearing to everyone.

I sat down a little heavier than I had planned and felt the chair crack a little. There was a single sheet of paper inside, folded in half; I was right- handmade paper. But that wasnt important, what was important was the heavy, blocky hand-written message it contained.

"We've been looking for you for a long time. It has come to my attention that you may have something unique to contribute after all. We may have been too hasty in judging your Ability to be a Contributor. I believe you do actually have a remarkable Ability to Survive. I'd like to speak to you this afternoon in the plaza outside the Blue Mosque. I will be alone, and you can approach me, so as to allay your justifiable suspicions. I will have a silver coffee set on the table in front of me.

I believe we can help each other, if you're willing to listen to my proposition.

-Soon,

Baddar"

Well, this is interesting.

[teen-titans-imagines]

Honeybee

Jason Todd x Reader

A/n: This was inspired by Steam Powered Giraffe’s song Honeybee! Hope you enjoy. I don’t really like this, but I hope you guys do. I might rewrite this but idk. I strayed from the request a bit, so forgive me.

—

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Romance, Fluff

Rated: Everyone

Warning: Angst, Mentions of Death, Fluff

—

Author: Teen-Titans-Imagines

—

You had let yourself go after he left you. The news of his leaving had hit his family hard, but it had hit you the hardest, you were sure of that. Jason Todd was your everything, no matter how many times you two fought or butt heads.

The thought of living in a world that didn’t have Jason Todd in it made it hard to want to live in Gotham.

You were sure you had waited for someone like Jason for almost all of your life. You were just a street rat to the golden nameplates that stomped through Gotham as if they owned it. You had a loving family, yes, but you weren’t perfect.

You were human, and completely aware. You were aware of the crooks, the corruption, the fame. You were aware to the dangers the little world that Gotham existed in, and became exposed. The day you wanted to leave the thriving Metropolis that was Gotham was the day you became just another rat in the street.

The people didn’t take you seriously, nobody wanted to hire you for a job, but everyone wanted to kill you or hurt you, that was for sure. That was how you met Jason Todd; your honeybee.

Jason had saved your life from some men that wanted to play games with Life and Death; you being the main piece on the chess board. He was stoic, but when you looked at him, everything around you both seemed to fall away and it was just you and him.

Jason had thought the same. You were gorgeous, even with blood streaming down the side of your face. Your eyes were so bright to him, like a sun in his darkened world. Your skin and touch was so soft, despite what you had been put through.

You two had kissed that night.

After that, Jason became a reoccurring theme in your life. Robin made it a point to save you from the danger, to protect you, and you were ok with it. After two weeks, Jason had worked enough courage to kiss you again and ask you on a date. You had accepted. It wasn’t often a miracle crashed into your life like he had, after all.

But you two weren’t perfect. You two fought about his vigilante crusade, your clinginess, just the things that made you two angry. You two fought about nothing: the dishes in the sink, the gear that sat everywhere, the curtains being blue instead of white.

However, you two loved each other deeply. Jason was sure you were going to be his wife one day, and you were sure that you were going to start a family with him someday. But just as quick ad Jason came, he was gone. The fact that he had left just as quick as he had came was…killing.

What made it worse was the fight you two had before the incident. You had been certain you smelled perfume on him, so of course your insecure mind wandered to the worst case scenario.

It was pungent. You were sure that you didn’t own any perfume that smelled like that. It smelled good. It smelled expensive. Yes, you were sure that Jason didn’t care about your status as poor, but you didn’t know if he would actually sleep with the golden girls of Gotham. Would he?

“Jason, why the fuck do I smell perfume on you?”

Jason had given you a look, his gorgeous blue eyes hardening. Did you really have to start now? Just after he got off patrol? The present in his bag seemed to suddenly weigh a ton upon his shoulder.

“(Y/n), please dont tell me you think I cheated on you.”

You had dropped the plate you were washing in the sink, turning and glaring at him.

“Jason, why else would you have perfume on you?! Who was she? Was she the blonde from the diner? You seemed to enjoy how her ass looked in that skirt of hers!”

Jason growled and slammed his hand on the table.

“I’m not cheating on you! For fucks sake, (Y/n)! Have a little more faith in me!”

“How can I have faith when you dont have any yourself?! I can smell it from here, Jason!”

Jason threw his hands in the air, screaming at you.

“Fine! You don’t wanna believe me? I did. I fucked that blonde from the diner, and the brunette from the gas station.”

Jason had no idea why he had said it. Jason was angry, just…angry, but he knew that he was telling the truth. He loved you too much to ever do something so…petty to someone. The look in your eye made his heart stop. You look angry, betrayed, sad, and like a kicked puppy. Jason couldn’t be in the room with you.

“We’ll talk later.”

You called his name, but Jason had already walked out on you. Maybe on everything. Your sobbing could be heard even from outside, and Jason rubbed the back of his neck, the present in his hand. He was sure he couldn’t fix what he had done. Throwing the present away, he muttered.

“Merry fucking Christmas.”

After he had walked down the street, you had emerged from the apartment to try and see why he had done what he did, but Jason was but memory; no trace of his existence left on the street. A red-wrapped package in the trash pile caught your eye, the box addressed to you from Jason. Upon opening it, you were shattered.

It was a bottle of perfume that smelled exactly like the one Jason had came home smelling like.

That had been the last night you had ever heard from Jason. No matter how hard you tried to get into touch with him, Jason seemed to refuse to answer. When the news of his kidnapping and the Joker taking his life surfaced, you were dead inside.

Gotham was no place for you and fate made that sure. So, you moved away to Blüdhaven. The city was like Gotham, in a way, with its’ vigilante crusaders keeping the town as safe as possible, regulating the crime, and kicking villainous ass.

It had been years since Jason’s death. You had gotten a steady job, kept in touch with Bruce, and even visited the man at times. He knew of the truth, and the older man felt sorry for you. You never got to tell Jason that you were sorry. Nor that you loved him; your honeybee.

When you had gotten a call from Bruce, his voice laced with shock, you knew it was serious.

“(Y/n)…you…you need to get to Gotham. Now. A plane has been readied for you.”

“Bruce, what’s going on? Is everything ok?”

A pause made your blood go cold like ice. Another voice was in the background; sounding familiar and like honey. Your mouth opened to address Bruce, but he murmured.

“You need to be here to see this. You won’t believe me otherwise.”

You had given your okay’s and hung up, packing as fast as you could. Bruce sounded shocked, and that was shocking for you. Bruce Wayne was a cool and collected person outside of the Batman persona. The fact that he seemed to have called you first made you feel flattered yet….very, very worried.

-TIMESKIP-

When you had arrived to Gotham, you weren’t expecting to see Alfred holding up a sign with your name upon it. You smiled at him when you approached him, his own small smile lighting his aged face.

“Alfred, it’s so good to see you!”

Hugging, he said to you, patting your back before straightening himself out.

“As it is good to see you, Ms. (Y/n). Come. Master Bruce shouldn’t be kept waiting, especially with the matter at hand.”

As you two walked to the vehicle, you asked him.

“Speaking of which: what is going on? Why does Bruce need me to be at the Manor so bad?”

Alfred got a perplexed look on his face before looking at you briefly, his expression grim.

“That is for you to find out for yourself, Ms. (Y/n).”

As the two of you arrived at the Wayne Manor, Alfred took your bags and instructed you to report to the Bat Cave. As you walked, your hands fiddled with your jacket, the jacket once belonging to Jason. How it still fit, you didn’t really know.

Arriving, you looked to see Bruce standing with someone, his hand on their shoulder. When your footsteps caught his attention, Bruce looked up.

“(Y/n), I’m glad you arrived safely.”

“Yeah. The flight wasn’t that long. I guess it helps when you take a couple shots of NyQuil, though.”

Bruce chuckled before taking a deep breath, seeming to mentally prepare himself. You quirked an eyebrow up before Bruce introduced.

“(Y/n), I want you to…remeet someone….Go ahead, Jay.”

‘Remeet? Jay?’

The man turned and your eyes widened. Holy shit. Tears filled your eyes as your hands flew to your mouth.

“Jason?”

Jason looked the same as he did yet…different. His hair had a large white tuff in the front, he had matured physically into a handsome young man, yet his eyes were that same blue you had fallen in love with. Jason widened his eyes, looking you up and down and he whispered out.

“Wow…(y/n)? Is that really you?”

You gave a loud laugh and ran to him, wrapping your arms around him tightly. Jason, not expecting you to tackle him in a hug, stumbled back a bit. Regaining his composure, he immediately wrapped his arms around you.

“Jason, I t-thought you w-were dead!”

You cried into his shoulder. Jason whispered to you, holding you tightly.

“I was…but I was brought back.”

You pulled back, your hands on his cheeks.

“I am so sorry, Jason. I never let you explain and I…I am so sorry. I love you so much.”

Jason bit his lip.

“Bruce explained it to me. I forgive you, baby. It should be me who should be apologizing….”

He sniffed before widening his eyes at you.

“Are….are you actually wearing it right now? The perfume?”

“It’s the only one I will ever wear now.”

Jason seemed awestruck before he laid his forehead upon yours.

“I love you so much.”

“I love you too, my honeybee.”

His lips laced yours, and, just as you remembered, his lips tasted just like his voice sounded.

Like honey.

[END]

[ifdragonscouldtalk]

What happens when reioka and I talk

reioka: For real?! Tony's tiny, not person sized?! ifdragonscouldtalk: No XD hes person sized in the fic But it would make it funny Imagine bruce trying to find a needle small enough to get a blood sample reioka: I mean... ask a bird vet probably ifdragonscouldtalk: Tony hanging off Steve's pinky finger by his tail reioka: The idea is very adorable, if impracticle ifdragonscouldtalk: Bucky has a cat. The cat likes little tony. Tony does NOT LIKE the cat reioka: Awww. Wait like like "dinner" or like like "person!" ifdragonscouldtalk: We dont know. Tony screams when Cat gets within 3 feet. Steve keeps Cat out of the room now. reioka: Aw poor kitty lol Poor Tony "It's big! It's get sharps everywhere! EVERYTHING IS SHARP!" ifdragonscouldtalk: Bruce puts a filter in the tank. Tony doesnt like the filter. It swirls the water around and blows him away. Tony launches a war with the filter. Bruce is Not Happy. reioka: Smol Tony building tools with the rocks at the bottom of the tank, sacrificing one of his pieces of seaweed to tie them all together to fling into the filter and cause it to jam ifdragonscouldtalk: Hes smug af cuz he clearly Won until he sees Bruce's face o h s h i t reioka: Lmao does he even understand WHY he needs a filter Does he want to swim in his own excrement ifdragonscouldtalk: He lived in the ocean before reioka All he knows is before the waters were still and now they are Not He probably doesnt notice XD reioka: Lmao the waters were never still you water horse you were just too far down to notice

ifdragonscouldtalk: But ok tony getting so excited he flails around in the water and winds up tangled in seaweed He does Not Appreciate pepper taking a picture reioka: "Pepper I am suffering. This is abuse. I'm going to die here." "You are not going to die you dumb seahorse I won't let you." "*choking sound*" "...Are you crying--" Tony ducks further into the seaweed and mumbles no ifdragonscouldtalk: Bucky and steve storming in from opposite doors shouting whO MADE HIM CRY WHY "I'm not crying!" reioka: Lmao just the idea of them trying to threaten Pepper tho Like... what a death wish ifdragonscouldtalk: Im sobbing imagine some intern giving tony little barbie tools and shit and he gets so frustrated because "I know these are fake! They're plastic!" reioka: He lets go and they float to the top of the tank and he is at the bottom just glaring up at them like... "You've all betrayed me. I know they're plastic and I hate you." ifdragonscouldtalk: Im a g ine someone buying Real Seahorses and putting them in the tank and tony is so territorial and ends up actually just wrestling a bunch of them reioka: I just snorted water out my nose omg "MY tank. MINE. GET OUT." ifdragonscouldtalk: And the actual seahorses are just so curious about this Strange Seahorse They think hes just trying to bump bellies until he grabs ones snout and then theyre Angery reioka: OH NO What does an angry seahorse do [ifdragonscouldtalk sends a screenshot of seahorses fighting with their tails] ifdragonscouldtalk: Seahorses punch Tony with their tails. Tony wails. Theyre meanies. reioka: Wtf Tony you've got actual fists HIT 'EM BACK ALSO A TAIL What a whiny baby I love him ifdragonscouldtalk: Tony eventually emerges victorious They find them the next morning with the others cowering in the corner and the water very slightly pink Bruce is Not Happy reioka: Just name the entire series Bruce is Not Happy because that will probably always be his reaction to everything. ifdragonscouldtalk: Series starts Bucky -- hey yo stevie look at this weird fuckin fish i found Steve -- screams reioka: *snort* Everyone debates on whether or not he's technically a fish and he's just sitting there like "I'm a seahorse" but are you a FISH? "A seahorse." ifdragonscouldtalk: "What is your species" "Awesome" reioka: "What do you call yourselves?" "Our names? I'm Tony, in case you've forgotten." "No, I mean, as a group?" "A family? *gasp* Do you guys not have families, is that why you don't know?" An intern is crying in the background from the effort it takes not to laugh because Tony looks honestly distraught that they've never heard of a family. ifdragonscouldtalk: Oh my g od Good reioka: Finally "Tony. Tony. Are you a fish?" "I'm a seahorse." "Seahorses are fish." "Then I gotta be a fish." Bruce screams in frustration in the background. They've been at this for hours. God damn it. ifdragonscouldtalk: Shoulda just googled it Tony compliments Bruce's singing because he's a gentleman But secretly wtf sort of singing is that reioka: LMAO if the real seahorses are still in the tank, just whispering to them "Did you hear that? Do they draw mates with that? Horrifying." ifdragonscouldtalk: The seahorses just look at him Bruce screams again reioka: Bonus if Betty is there for some reason and comes to see what happened and Tony gasps. "It worked!" ifdragonscouldtalk: Im crYING Whenever pep walks in the room now tony screams reioka: Bonus points: Pepper knows why and one time she screams back and Tony ducks back under the water, covering his blushing face. God I wish I could draw Just seahorse Tony covering his face and Pepper laughing good-naturedly in the background ifdragonscouldtalk: Bucky and Steve spend the whole day trying to figure out why tony keeps blushing and why hes making a "mating hut" reioka: HAHAHA I wonder if Pepper feels bad for "leading him on" because come on, they don't--even have compatible parts, not even talking about the size difference ifdragonscouldtalk: Tony scoffs and says he knows and he was only joking and then literally just turns around and starts crying. Shes still standing there. TONY. reioka: TONY THE ENTIRE TANK IS SEE-THROUGH Aw now I feel really bad for him haha ifdragonscouldtalk: He'll be fiiiiiiine, natasha challenges pep to a fight on his behalf The fight pretty much entails nat biting and kicking peps hand with her tail, but w/e tony loves it reioka: "I will protect Tony's honor," Natasha tells everyone and then BITE BITE BITE Pepper pretends it hurts more than it does tbh Natasha beating the shit out of Pepper's hand Pepper wrapping it in bandages longer than strictly necessary because every time Natasha sees it she puffs up proudly and Tony looks pleased ifdragonscouldtalk: Tony still kisses all the band aids tho Cuz hes a whiny sweetheart reioka: Aw Natasha grudgingly tells Pepper she was a worthy opponent and Pepper glows for hours. ifdragonscouldtalk: Tony starts screaming at steve ans bucky instead reioka: One time when the humans go out for drinks Pepper gets sloppy drunk and cries and the others are like "What's wrong" and she's just like "God I just love these stupid fish so much" YEEE Are they smart enough to scream back or do they just get nervous because they think they've done something wrong ifdragonscouldtalk: Oh my God pep I bet bucky screams back just for the heck of it and steve shrieks cuz hes startled but tones takes it for a scream. Tony glows "I got /two/ human mates nat" She screams at hill just because she likes a challenge and human women are Cute reioka: Natasha is daunted but if they hurt Tony she's gonna fight 'em anyway lol Lmao does Hill scream back OH Hill doesn't scream back but Natasha's just like "aw yisssss motha fuckin challenge" Tony supports Natasha's endeavors even when he thinks she's out of her mind ifdragonscouldtalk: Tony is a Good Bro Tonys new mating house tho Its glorious Nat helps him with it Bruces like "what are you doing" and tonys like "showing off for my mates" "Who?" "Bucky and Steve. They didn't say?" Bruce is Not Happy reioka: It's a good thing Bruce doesn't have Hulk powers because I assume literally everything we've said so far would make him turn into the jolly green giant. ifdragonscouldtalk: "You guys cant fuck the seahorse. It is physically impossible to fuck the seahorse." Steve actually chokes ifdragonscouldtalk: Real question: is clint a seahorse or a human Because i can see him accidentally almost killing Tony and Nat on a weekly basis and them loving it but i can also see him convincing Tony to do stupid shit with him like rock their tank off the table Bruce comes in and screams so loudly and tony looks at clint and goes "wow he really loves you" reioka: On one hand: "You wanna try coffee?" *pours coffee directly into tank. Everyone hates him. Tony and Natasha have not stopped vibrating for hours. They could have died. "MORE COFFEE! MORE COFFEE!" they chant, banging on the glass. Everyone HATES him. On the other hand: "That box they brought in looks interesting do you think you can throw me at it." Tony puts his engineering cap on and Bruce walks in just in time to watch Clint fly out of the tank, screaming, and lands on a pizza box with a splat. ifdragonscouldtalk: Im vibrating desperately as i try not to laugh Clint: puts an entire bar of chocolate in the tank, its gone in two hours, Tony and Nat are simultaneously in immense pain and doing theur best to tear the tank apart Or Clint: challenges natasha to a fight and sends everyone running when he screams because "SHE WAS GONNA RIP MY TAIL OFF" reioka: Lmao beautiful "She wouldn't have ripped your tail off," Tony tells him soothingly as Natasha gives Tony her best wtf face and mouths "yeah I would." ifdragonscouldtalk: Either way bruce screams and tony thinks theyre mates. reioka: Tony, whispering: Bruce must really like you, he screams an awful lot. Clint, thoughtful: ...We could make it work. Natasha: I dunno he screams at a lot of people? Maybe he's not monogamous. Bruce: *notices all three of them staring intensely and is somewhat uncomfortable* ifdragonscouldtalk: Tony: maybe he's what the humans call a player! Clint and Nat: *gasp* Bruce: why tf are they glaring at me what are they planning now ifdragonscouldtalk: Imagine someone trying to explain to them that screaming =/= mating reioka: Tony: It worked for me??? In both cases??? Pepper's just not ready for children but I am and I understand that. Pepper: *spews coffee* Tony: But Bucky and Steve like me! :D Natasha: *smug* Maria likes me. *everyone turns to look at Hill* Hill: ...I have paperwork to do. ifdragonscouldtalk: Bucky and Steve nearly have a heart attack when bruce askes when they were planning to tell him about the children reioka: Steve: Tony, we... can't have children. Tony: D: you... you don't want children with me? Bucky: That's not it! We, uh... we're physically incapable of. Conceiving. With you. Tony: ...WELL. You can't help that you're barren. Steve and Bucky: *bug-eyed* Tony: Maybe I could talk to Natasha. The fry wouldn't be your biologically but it's the love that matters. Bruce finds Steve and Bucky crying later and he doesn't want to ask but he does anyway. "It's the love that matters," Steve sobs, and Bucky adds, "That's so beautiful, holy shit." ifdragonscouldtalk: Oh my g od If they did have children only one ends up having a normal name because bucky and steve are never quick enough to imprint on the fry reioka: Lmao LOL THE PREGNANCY Steve: So how many kids are we lookin' at, Bruce? Bruce: At least two dozen. Bucky: *faints* Bruce: Probably more. Steve: ...Can I afford that many children Bruce: GET OUT OF MY LAB. ifdragonscouldtalk: OH MY VGOD Pepper buys another bigger tank Clint and Nat start hissing at anyone who tries to touch tones except his mates reioka: Aw, little tiny ultrasound on Tony's belly! Bruce endures Clint and Natasha's biting with aplomb. ifdragonscouldtalk: Steve and Bucky both pass out minutes into the labor and continue to pass out every time they wake up till its over By the time they wake up the last time theyre already named - dummy, you, cutie, friday, toast, stan Nat names one Hill and Hill is her Best Niece reioka: Lmao "Why Toast" "Why not Toast? Do you not like it? Well it's too late her name is Toast." ifdragonscouldtalk: Steve and Bucky are crying. The seahorses think it's joy. Pep and Bruce are just patting their shoulders. Pepper thinks they shouldve seen it coming Clint names one Hawk just to piss ppl off reioka: Lmao Tony introducing all the fry to Steve and Bucky, "Children, these are your fathers. Steve, Bucky, this is" long list of names. They're never going to remember them all, they're terrible parents. Eventually Tony orders his children to tell them who they're speaking to because when they misbehave he wants to yell at the right one. "That's fair," the fry agree, and then start doing it for everyone except Pepper and Hill. reioka: Pepper: Isn't it... kinda cruel? Natasha: I heard a seahorse gave birth to fifty kids once. Some of them drift away because they're idiots that won't listen. One time my mom called me every name but mine. ifdragonscouldtalk: Imagine how much Trouble clint gets them into reioka: Clint: Do you think with all these seahorses we could tip the tank Tony: Do not tip the tank. Clint: I bet we could. Natasha: Do NOT Fry: *cheerfully* TIP THE TANK! TIP THE TANK! Tony: STEEEEEEEEEEEEEVVVVVVVEEEEEEEEEEEE CATCH THE TAAAAAAAAAAANK ifdragonscouldtalk: Tony and Natasha actually screeching Bucky and Steve catch the tank but tony is sobbing and panicking because his cHILDREN ARE GOING TO DIE LIKE IDIOTS reioka: Steve: *angry* DON'T DO THAT TO YOUR MOTHER. Bucky: Steve, you shouldn't yell at the kids. CLINT YOU LITTLE SHIT. Tony: *sobbing, gathering the fry to him frantically* Fry: *feel terrible* ifdragonscouldtalk: Imagine them all going to the beach and all of them are hanging off Buckys hair and Steve is makin sure none of them drift away Tony is actually screeching in joy because a c t u a l s a n d Toast would prefer to be near Steve so she hangs on to his drawstring of his swimsuit Nat teaches Hill how to train and ride hermit crabs reioka: Tony: *cries* Look at my beautiful family. Bucky: Aw, doll. :) You don't have to-- Tony: MY FAMILY KICKS EVERY OTHER FAMILY'S ASS. Bucky: ...Doll. Steve: *laughs, chokes on sea water* ifdragonscouldtalk: Clint.... Challenges a blue crab,, to a fight Bruce has to save him reioka: Okay so hear me out -- Bruce and Betty are together but Clint just kind of gets inserted into their relationship because "I'm pretty sure he's lowkey trying to die" Bruce says and then Betty has a baby and Clint was like "Holy shit this thing is huge. I love her. She's mine now." Betty's amused. Bruce just sighs. ifdragonscouldtalk: G O O D Clint trying to get the baby to challege a crab to a fight reioka: Baby sitting on it and crushing it with her diaper. Clint: ...That works. Bruce: Stop trying to get our child to fight everything bigger than you, Clint! Clint: *starts crying* Bruce: Oh God what did I do Betty: *snorting, trying to get the crab to let go of the baby's diaper* You called her 'our' baby and he's included in the 'our' and he's happy you idiot. Bruce: Oh ifdragonscouldtalk: Natasha rides past on a hermit crab and clint starts blabbering to her and shes just like yeah? Can YOUR kid race hermit crabs Clint looks at Bruce and Betty. Bruce: No, our kid cannot- Betty: if you can find one big enough Bruce: BeTTY reioka: Betty: Oh my God Bruce he's never going to find a crab big enough. Bruce: I don't believe that. I believe he could find one. He regularly gets himself thrown out of the tank to steal my pizza. Betty: He's so tiny how much could he eat? Bruce: *stony silence* Betty: D: ifdragonscouldtalk: Ok but Bucky with seahorses just hanging onto his hair. Theyre everywhere. He looks like a seahorse tree. reioka: Pepper takes lots of pictures. Bucky loves them. He'd thought about cutting his hair at one point but now that he has become the seahorse tree he vows to only have it trimmed. ifdragonscouldtalk: A horseshoe crab scares one of the kids and Tony's just like im gONNA FITE IT and Steve is like nO reioka: Tony manages to knock it upside down but it's so distressed by it that he gets Steve to turn it back over and it scuttles away in the opposite direction ifdragonscouldtalk: Ok but also Clint and Tony and Natasha forcing pep to help them set up a 'human date' for Nat and Hill because yes reioka: Clint and Tony vibrating when they see Hill coming back with Natasha, ready to interrogate her on whether the date went well, but then Hill leans down and presses a kiss to Natasha's cheek (Well, her entire side of her head, but they intention is still there) and they squeal and then slap at each other to shut up because NATASHA IS BLUSHING OH MY KRILL ifdragonscouldtalk: G O O D Natasha is smug like "She's definitely my mate. She just hasn't done the ritual yet." Hill going to Coulson like "a fish is courting me" reioka: Coulson: Stranger things have happened. Hill: Not to ME ifdragonscouldtalk: Wwheezesx justin hammer,,, stealing them reioka: NOOOOO Can you imagine Tony, Natasha, and Clint trying to protect all the fry Trying so hard, but they all get taken anyway, and they know they couldn't really do anything against a human but they feel like they SHOULD HAVE ifdragonscouldtalk: Can you imagine,, tony breaking down,,, and justin trying to get them to breed. Cuz m e r m a i ds. And tony just telling him that if he touched the kids his mates would kill him reioka: Justin would probably curse himself for missing two seahorses But NAY TWO SUPER SOLDIERS ifdragonscouldtalk: ScReech can u imagine justin putting a little glowy tracking device in tonys chest reioka: Honestly I'm just imagining them all being so scared that their tails clutch at each other until they're just a big ball of trembling, teary seahorses WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT I love it ifdragonscouldtalk: When they finally do come it's actually Maria who gets there first and she scoops up hill and nat and holds them desperately Just nuzzling them Bruce finds clint actually sobbing Steve and bucky beat justin mostly dead reioka: GOOD He deserves it ifdragonscouldtalk: Tony clings to steves fingers and cries while bucky gets the kids reioka: Steve presses desperate kisses all over Tony's body but his lips glance over whether the tracker is and Tony wails in pain and Steve is horrified because oh God what did Hammer DO Bruce physically stops Steve from walking over and crushing Hammer's skull under his boot because he needs to know everything Hammer did

[weareallfallengods]

Reposting because I'm a disaster and don't know how to pin posts.

Survival

Inspiration: If you’re over 25 and haven’t done something remarkable, you are hunted down and killed. Some people invent things. Some make cures for diseases. Others become established members of their community. You’re pushing 30, and somehow not dead yet, even though you cant think of a single thing you’ve done thats remarkable in any way. Why aren’t you dead?

I write for adults about adult themes with adult language. I try to tag possible triggers (but I know I'm not going to get all of them), so if violence or implied death or cussing bothers you, you'll probably want to find a different author.

********************************************

Somehow, that date came up again. Not quite sure how, but somehow, the number circled on my shitty wall calendar with the coffee splatter on it managed to be today. Again. It's been doing that for 5 years now.

At first I wanted to be a surgeon- save people's lives, make a difference, all that shit. Yeah, I was caught up in the hype for a while too. Just like everyone. Thought I'd make some ground-breaking discovery and change the world. Just like everyone. And then, at 22, I flunked out of med school. That was it. Dream over, kaput, fin.

When I opened my termination letter, it was like reading a death sentence. 10 years of prep and study down the drain. 3 years left. 3 years, and no idea what to do. No clue what I could do to save my own life after all those years learning how to save others.I drank for a solid month. I dont even remember that month now. My only memento from it is an entire skip of liquor bottles. It's a miracle I didn't die from alcohol poisoning. Not that I didn't try.

See, I was afraid. Scared, actually. Terrified would be more accurate, if I'm honest. I knew I only had 3 years left until they came for me. Unless I managed to do something extraordinary within the next 3 years, they'd come for me, and the only thing that would remain is a 2 paragraph obituary in the local paper, followed by a vacancy announcement. When you're suddenly forced to confront your own imminent demise, and see every dream, hope and aspiration you'd had evaporate, right in front of your eyes, its perfectly natural to drown that in a swimming pool of vodka.

But then, after a month of drowning, and a week of curing a hangover that would make Satan shudder, I got angry. Like Bruce Banner angry. As I was leaving an all night diner, the notice board caught my eye. Having nothing better to do with my life, I stood there for a while just reading every single card in detail, every single lost cat, every used car, every 5k charity run. And then I saw it. And I thought, "You know what? Fuck it, why not. I've spent all this time trying to do one thing that I've never actually done just whatever I feel like, had hobbies, anything really. Why the fuck not."

And that's how I ended up 2 days later in some shity warehouse district, rolling around on a mat with some dude I didnt even know, sweating and swearing profusely and having the time of my life. "Sasha's Self Defense" it said on the small, weathered and rusted sign on the brick wall out front, next to a door that looked like it had been transported straight from the proverbial gulag.

I'd naively thought this was going to be one of those Karate Kid knock offs for some reason when I first arrived. Sasha soon disabused me of that notion. In fact, when he saw I'd brought a new gi in a duffle bag, he laughed so hard he had to slap his ass down on a rickety folding chair just to keep breathing. Once he calmed his mirth at my expense, he let me know in a no-nonsense, 'I'm an old-timer and seen some shit in my day' heavily accented tone that this would be a class that focused on survival at all costs. "No bullshit wax on-wax off," were his exact words I believe.

And boy was he right. When I told him I'd set aside my year's tuition for lesson payments, well, wouldn't you know it, I became his most prized pupil; I quickly learned this was not a good thing. It meant 14 hours a day of the most humiliatingly punishing activity ever dreamed up by Moscow's Finest. I couldnt even move the morning after my first day. But somehow I limped my battered frame down to the bus stop and was only an hour late. Ha, only. Sasha seemed to take it as a personal insult. The only thing he hated less than sloppiness was tardiness it seemed. Apparently the 10th Circle of Hell was reserved for those who dared be late. And he made you earn your way out of that circle.

His only saving grace was fairness. If I had to suffer, at least I wasnt alone. Well, at first anyway. The few other students that suffered his wrath along side me doing slavic folk dances with wrist and ankle weights very quickly learned that this wasn't the type of class they had thought it was and soon I was alone with Sasha.

On the days I did well, I got treated to pierogies. Oh man, I lived for those pierogies. They were made by angels and served by someone I can only describe as if Jesus came back as a woman. Who was Russian. And spoke even less english than Sasha, if that was possible. His sister was as completely opposite to that sadistic maniac as it was possible to be and still be a human being. Where he was loud, she was soft. Where he was tough, she was gentle. Where he was strict, she was generous, even indulgent. Blonde to his brunette. Slim to his barrel chest. Cousin by marriage, I think they said. Well, relatives of some kind anyway. And she was the only one who could make him laugh. And when he laughed, the whole block knew! He was just that loud, that boisterous, with everything he did.

But I loved his little Anya. Just like everyone. But like in a wholesome, mom-ish kind of way. I loved her because I got to sit for an hour when she was around. Because she"d always tuck a to-go container of pierogies into my bag. Because she'd chide Sasha for pushing me too hard. In short, she was an angel.

But I have to hand it Sasha- in 4 months, he took a scrawny bookworm into someone who could pose for Men's Health. In 6 months, I could beat Ivan, his partner, in 5/10 sparring matches. In 7 months, I ran a marathon. In 9, he had me enter a triathalon. And I made it into the top 50 out of 500 entrants. Not too bad if I say so myself. In 12 months, I was beating Ivan almost every time.

And that's when the other Ivan showed up. After a year, Sasha decided it was time I learned weaponry. After all, no real fight was fair, he said. And Ivan (another cousin? Sasha had one heck of an extended family) instructed me on everything from broken beer bottles, to knives and pool cues. And my medical training paid off, because more often than not, I was the one stitching myself up if training got a little rough that day.

Eventually, I moved into the gym. Not sure how it happened, but I think I just got too tired to leave one day and never really left. Sasha didnt seem to mind since it meant I wasnt ever late again. Plus the coffee he imported was the best thing ever. Like it was so good that's probably the Extraordinary Thing he did to live as long as he had.

The days just melted together, into one long symphony of beautiful exhaustion and physical torment, as I poured myself into the first activity I could remember doing purely because I wanted to, something that numbed the dread of the finality of my life expectancy.

But then one day, one specific day, the one I'd been dreading in the back of my mind for a year came around.

They found me.

I guess they were a little slow in finding me, not surprising since I'd basically just disappeared from my old life, no forwarding address type thing. It wasnt intentional, it just sort of happened, what with me diving head first into something purely for me, without the thought of doing it for someone else. But they found me. Just like they find everybody.

See, it doesnt matter if you try to run, if you move, or change your name. They always find you eventually. I just hadn't thought about it in a long while. That year was the first time since I was probably 14 that I'm hadn't thought about the Gardeners. I guess that's why it surprised me so much.

Yeah, Gardeners. I dont know who came up with the name, in guess some misguided attempt at a positive PR spin bullshit to pass off squads of government assassins who's only job was to track down the NCs of the world and eliminate them. Sorry, NCs- Non-Contributors; the people who hit their expiration date without doing something noteworthy, something that was deemed to "advance or bolster the Human Condition" to borrow a phrase from the civics classes we had to take every fucking year of school. A cutesy sounding name that was supposed to make the government sound like a benevolent old couple pulling weeds from their garden of humanity. The worst lies always sound the sweetest, dont they?

And I was now 25.

It happened a few weeks after my birthday. Just another routine day for me, going for a light 5k run after my soak in a mineral bath. Light rain, most of the streetlights out, the few lights on in the warehouse district reflected beautifully off the streets. That's why I ran at night, all the colors changed that normally bleak neighborhood into something beautiful. It was just one little thing to balance out the harshness of reality, and I reveled in it.

I don't actually remember what happened exactly. I do recall seeing a suspiciously conspicuous homeless guy huddled under a loading dock awning, and then just a flash of movement from the corner of my eye. I think it happened really quickly; at least that's what Sasha said the next morning as he was making arrangements for me to visit another cousin of his "back in the old country". It could have been. God, after seeing the bodies around me in the aftermath, I hope, for their sake, that it was fast. 5 bodies. All still. I still remember my breath turning to blue fog, blurring the details of them. Helping me to be able to pretend I didn't see the blood mixing with the rain and oil, spreading out over the concrete like a macabre inversion of the cloudy sky above.

I'm glad they wore masks. It's bad enough having that scene burned into my brain forever, without specific people's faces being etched there as well. I'm glad I dont see their faces in my mind every time I close my eyes. I just wish I could still enjoy the rain. They managed to take that from me, even if I'm still breathing, so I guess they didnt completely fail. They just killed a part of my soul instead. But hey, there's plenty of people that don't like the rain, right? But I bet they don't smell blood when it does though.

And that was pretty much it. No sirens, no manhunt, nothing. Before I could process what was happening, I was on a bus, headed for "the old country", which, as near as I could tell, looked an awful lot like Pittsburg. Sasha's 'cousin' met me at the bus depot there, a man of very few words. Not as loud as his cousin, Zhena tended to communicate with looks, grunts and shrugs mostly. Same work ethic though.

And then the cycle repeated- 14 months this time before they caught up with me. Too bad that Zhena got caught up in it, he was a great guy. He and I didn't really become close or buddies or anything, but it still hurt to see what happened to him. To what was left of him anyway. The Gardeners definitely were trying to send a message with that. To quote an old wise man, "I didnt want to know, but now I do, and I'm telling you, you dont want to know." And that's coming from someone who was training to become a surgeon, so just trust me on this one.

This time, they were waiting for me. I think they'd planned on Zhena being enough of a distraction that they'd be able to take me out easily, but since since I woke up the next day on the floor of the sparring ring in a too large pool of blood that wasnt my own, I'd say they failed. The difference this time was I was on my own. No 'cousins' to call in favors from. No family I could call because I didnt want them getting a visit from the Gardeners either. I was alone this time.

Weirdly, I was actually OK with that. I'd been surrounded by family, teachers, advisors, tutors for so long that solitude was actually kind of nice. I could hear myself think my own thoughts for the first time in what seemed like forever.

I'm not ashamed to say that I took what little of value there was from Zhena's gym (I knew him well enough to know that Sasha was his only family) so that I could get a seedy hotel for a while. I did at least have the decency to let Sasha know, and that that would be the last he ever heard from me, to keep him out of trouble. Bad enough that 10 people were already dead, I didn't want Sasha or Anya's name added to that list because of me.

And so I vanished. Completely. Sure I travelled, kept studying and training like I had been, but never staying longer than a few months, never using the same name, copying other random people's habits and patterns so I didnt have one of my own for them to track down. Yeah it was cliche, but hey, I figured my dad watching all those spy flicks when I was young had to be good for something, right?

Sometimes I was a baker, sometimes a delivery driver, even a dock hand. Whatever it took to make a buck so I could eat.

I got really good at other things too. Like disposing of bodies. Not really a skill I ever thought I'd want or need, but Necessity is a harsh and demanding teacher. Sadly, my skill as a surgeon came in handy- bodies are easier to get rid of when they're in smaller pieces. And people are easier to turn into bodies when you know how they're put together intimately. Not what I had in mind for my life, but since it was the choice between this or dying, well, I guess I can put up with it.

I suppose that catches us all up to the present, more or less. OK yeah theres a lot that's gone down between Pittsburg and now, but it was all pretty much the same: lather, rinse, repeat. Literally sometimes. Those were the days it felt like there wasnt enough soap in the world to get all the blood off.

So here I am, I'm my single room in Kandahar, staring at the date that had somehow come up again. Every year, they send someone. Usually a team. And I survive. No matter how they come at me, or when or how many. I survive.

And I'm sitting here, staring at the calendar, steaming cup of espresso, just staring, as a light breeze fluttered the corner of the calendar page, sending the orchids dancing in the vase next to it. All I could think is, "How? How does this keep happening? I'm not even supposed to be here, not supposed to be alive."

As I raised my cup of espresso, something slid under my door. "OK that's weird," I said aloud as I stood.

The chair made an ungodly screech as I pushed it back and made my way over to where a small, cream colored envelope sat on the floor, a couple inches from the bottom of the door. It was heavy for it's size, but not because anything was in it, just the paper was that thick. Probably hand-made. It's odd the little things you notice in times of stress. Heavy, rough paper, no postmark, nothing written on the outside, just the flap tucked in, not even sealed. Reminded me of how my mother used to give out birthday cards. I always thought that was a little weird, but it was just one of her quirks that made her even more endearing to everyone.

I sat down a little heavier than I had planned and felt the chair crack a little. There was a single sheet of paper inside, folded in half; I was right- handmade paper. But that wasnt important, what was important was the heavy, blocky hand-written message it contained.

"We've been looking for you for a long time. It has come to my attention that you may have something unique to contribute after all. We may have been too hasty in judging your Ability to be a Contributor. I believe you do actually have a remarkable Ability to Survive. I'd like to speak to you this afternoon in the plaza outside the Blue Mosque. I will be alone, and you can approach me, so as to allay your justifiable suspicions. I will have a silver coffee set on the table in front of me.

I believe we can help each other, if you're willing to listen to my proposition.

-Soon,

Baddar"

Well, this is interesting.