#app i only do assassins

[agonizedembrace]

it is done 🫡

[leth-writes]

bait

SUMMARY: Damian would like to welcome you to the family.

WARNINGS: 18+ as always on my blog, though the work is safe for work. Typical yandere shenanigans.

MASTERLIST: https://www.tumblr.com/leth-writes/757800060720496640/requests-open?source=share 

Requests are open!

Normally, Damian would hate being babied. He was a trained assassin, the blood of Ra’as Al Ghoul ran through his veins, he was the son of the feared Bat! And yet, here he was, sitting in your kitchen, watching you make him some (vegan) mac n’ cheese. 

Originally, Damian did not understand the obsession his family seemed to have with you. He spent days complaining, stomping around the manor, irritated that his family was wasting time with some… weakling. It seemed that every time he walked into a room, the only topic of discussion was you.

As one of the newer additions to the family, and a biological one at that, it seemed he had missed out on something vital to his family. So, he decided to just… ask, as his father would advise,  just why they were wasting time on someone who wouldn’t ever be able to adhere to the illustrious standards his family had set. 

The person he decided on was Grayson, someone he normally looked up to.

He sat across from his older brother, who was preoccupied with that insipid app that Drake had designed, keeping track of your vitals and ensuring your safety. Finally, fed up with being ignored, Damian cleared his throat to alert his brother of his presence.

Grayson looked up and beamed, bouncing up to flop down next to Damian. 

“What’s up, lil’ D?” Grayson asked, voice jovial even as he spared a glance at his screen.

“Tt. Grayson, I must… request your assistance.”

“Anything for you, lil’ D!” Grayson leaned over and rustled Damian’s hair. Damian, annoyed, fixed his hair and leaned away.

“I do not… I do not understand your recent… Preoccupation. It seems the family has decided, rather unanimously, that we will be gaining a new member. I do not understand why we must lower our standards!” He huffed, crossing his arms.

Grayson’s eyes softened. “Oh, lil’ D. It’s alright, you’re new, we should’ve known this would be confusing…” He looked away, staring out the window for a second, letting out a little sigh. 

“I’m not really sure how to explain it, but sometimes, sometimes people, especially people like us, get… passionate. Dinah likes to explain it away as the way we… deal with the constant loss, the uncertainty. Vigilantes don’t ever do anything in halves, afterall.”

“But why, but why them? They have nothing to add to our family, Grayson! They cannot fight, they are not trained, they have no extraordinary skills!” Damian huffed.

“Well, it doesn’t always make sense, Damian, and it doesn’t need to. Sometimes, sometimes people just… click, it doesn’t always have to make logical sense. I think if you got to know them, maybe you’d understand it a bit better.”

Grayson smiled, looking back at Damian. Damian looked away, blushing. He didn’t like not getting something; it made him feel vulnerable, weak, like he was missing out on something everyone else just seemed to get.

“And this is, this is… typical, for vigilantes such as our family?” He asked, voice quiet with mortification. Grayson smiled softly.

“Of course, Lil’ D. There’s nothing wrong with being passionate, and there’s no way we’re gonna let someone else get hurt. I mean, just think about it; do you think they could defend themselves?” 

Damian shook his head.

“And there’s no way they’ll be able to defend themselves. As vigilantes, especially in Gotham, we see the truth, we see how nasty the world can truly be. Most civilians just don’t get it. So, I think we can be forgiven for being a little intense, right?” He laughed, elbowing Damian gently.

“I mean, just think about Jon getting hurt.” 

Damian scowled. “I would not allow it. It would never happen.” He said, certainty clear in his voice.

Grayson snorted. “I know, Lil’ D. I’m just using him as an example; now take those feelings, and imagine if Jon couldn’t defend himself. “

“I-I do not know what I would do.”

“And that’s okay, you’ll get it eventually, okay? It’s hard to come to terms with, at first.”

“I still do not understand why you have chosen such an unworthy target for your affections, but I will… try. To understand.” Damian looked down, face tinged slightly red in embarrassment. 

Grayson ruffled his hair again, and peeked at his screen. “Maybe ask Cass to take you, or Jason? I have a shift in a little while. I’m sure they’d be willing to help you, Damian. It’s okay to have questions, to not get it. It’ll click eventually.”

So, Damian did.

While embarrassing, the idea of not getting something that was clearly of high importance to his family rankled in his chest. So, he approached Cain and asked for her help.

She was in her studio, as she normally was at noon on the weekends, working on a new routine. Damian paused in the door, waiting for her to finish up. No matter how many times he saw her, especially during her performances, he was always surprised by just how graceful the young woman managed to be.

It was normal for his family to move with a lithe grace, especially Grayson, who seemed to move so fluidly he lacked a skeletal structure, couldn’t compete with the natural poise Cain held herself with.

She finished up her routine with a flourish, then rose to her feet with a sigh. She floated over to her water bottle and took a sip, before turning around to face Damian. She smiled gently, eyes crinkling at the corners, her slightly damp choppy black hair framing her face perfectly.

“Little brother,” she said, delight clear in her voice. 

“Cain,” Damian greeted, nodding his head and moving into the room.

Cain sank to the floor, back against the mirrored wall, and patted the wooden floor next to her. 

“Sit,” she said.

He did. There was no refusing Cain, after all.

“You seem… confused.” She glanced over at him, taking another small sip.

“Yes. I do not… Understand the new obsession you have all taken with that Civilian.”

Cain nodded. “Yes.”

“Grayson explained the general feelings of protectiveness, but was unable to elaborate; why them?” Damian crinkled his face, nose scrunching.

Cain laughed. “Stubborn, not seeing.” She poked his forehead, startling him. He scowled further, rubbing the spot. It didn’t really hurt, but he was not about to let her get away with poking him like a child!

She snickered at his bewildered expression. 

“It is hard to explain… Instinct.” She hummed, looking away in contemplation.

“Innocence. They do not know… the violence, the heartache… they are kind.”

So it was about the contrast, Damian concluded. The difference between a trained vigilante and a weakling.

“They cannot… protect self. Need help. Like baby.” She continued, sighing and leaning a hand against her cheek, propped against her knees.

“Like… Like Titus, or Alfred the cat. Need looking after.”

Just like that, it clicked.

You were utterly defenseless. Completely alone, with no one to prevent you from being hurt, or worse, killed. You were like a young kitten, unable to open their eyes to see their savior, like the one Damian had fostered.

A warmth bloomed in his chest. You would be like the kitten, and he would protect your innocence, no matter the cost.

Cass smiled widely, scrunching her nose. 

Just like that, Damian was clamoring to get involved. He could not wait until you were home, and he would be able to ensure your safety, keeping you from losing that childlike innocence, that thin film over your eyes preventing you from seeing the true danger.

It was Drake who had the brilliant idea to place Damian in the field; Damian, for all of his sword-related faults, was still young, after all. Someone as naive as you would be sure to enjoy looking after such a cute child, not being able to see who was truly caring for who.

While both Grayson and Todd had failed to make your acquaintance, it seemed you were too aware of stranger danger to fully fall for the ruse, he knew Cain had made inroads as a member of your book club. Surely, having a young brother by her side would only make it easier to get closer to you.

And just like that, the trap was set, and Damian was ready to act.

The next week, your book club would be meeting to discuss the selected offerings. You had wisely offered up Pride and Prejudice. Damian could still hear the muffled curses Todd had let out; you had no clue the extent to which you had so thoroughly endeared yourself to him, just by picking an Austen novel. Damian could not help but be amused, Todd was easy to enthrall despite his tough exterior; it was almost comical. 

Cain had brought him with, dressed in clothes he was told were appropriate for his age (Grayson had laughed and forced him to stand for pictures. He would secure his revenge, and make sure to talk badly about him. He would be victorious in the so-called prank war, after all, and you would stand at his side, unscathed.).

You opened the door, smiling and bringing Cain in for a hug. Even from his position, he could see Cain melt into the hug, smiling and bringing an arm up to pat your back gently.

“Hello,” she sighed as you pulled back, looking her over.

“Oh, Hello!” you said, looking down at Damian. 

He sighed internally. It would take everything he had, but the thoughts of showing you Bat-Cow would get him through the evening. He smiled brightly, artificially pitching his voice up slightly.

“Hi!” He said, stepping forward and shaking your hand with vigor. “I’m Cass’s brother, Damian!”

“Oh, so you have a brother?” You said, smiling even brighter. It almost hurt Damian’s face in sympathy, how widely you were able to smile. Was it due to your innocence?

You ushered the two of them inside.

“Yes, Our father forgot Damian would be home tonight, and did not arrange for a babysitter.”

“Oh, that’s more than alright! Here, are you hungry, kiddo? I’ll make you something to snack on while the book club gets going! Cass, you can take a seat if you want.”

Damian watched as you puttered around the kitchen, enamored with the way you seemed completely oblivious to the danger present in your home. You were lucky he was there to protect you; what if Cass hadn’t been a kind person? You would’ve had no idea you were letting a threat into your house, and into your life! Luckily for you, Cass would never harm a hair on your head, let alone let you get hurt.

“Milk okay for the Mac n’ cheese, kiddo?” You asked, not bothering to turn around as you pulled down a box.

He informed you he was vegan.

You took it in stride, pulling out some soy milk. He was almost surprised you would have some, but your clear kindness would never allow you to potentially offend a guest. Damian could feel a bout of cuteness aggression overtaking him, and he clenched his fists hard enough to draw blood under the lip of the counter.

The rest of the night passed without incident, though you seemed particularly interested in Damian’s contributions to the conversation about Austen’s works. He could not help but be satisfied at the impression he had made; it was not his fault the majority of the people you surrounded with could not understand basic literary analysis, after all.

Every week for the next few months, Damian would tag along to book club; he eventually managed to become your favorite conversational partner, though Cain was a close second, as you slowly began to ignore the others in the club. It was better this way, after all; they could not protect you.

However, Damian soon became frustrated by the lack of progress. They were talking to you regularly, yes, but he wanted you safe at home! He could tell the others were building in frustration as well, and yet the consensus remained; they would need to take more time.

So, he approached Todd.

And Todd agreed.

The plan was set.

Damian waited breathlessly in the alley by your workplace. It would be easy, after all, to get you to follow him down into the dark.

The second he saw you, he took a few wide steps back, and began to scream.

“Help!” He shouted, crumpling to the floor. He let his voice take on a tinge of desperation, pitching slightly higher to exaggerate his innocence and hopefully trigger your panic so you would approach without a second thought.

It worked, and your pounding footsteps soon approached.

“Hello?!” You called, frantically dropping to your knees in front of his crumpled form.

“D-Damian?” You cried, searching desperately for the injury.

Behind you, he could see Todd approach, syringe in hand. 

He let out a groan and rolled over, head in your lap. As you ran your hands over his back, looking for something, he surreptitiously grabbed your waist, hoping to prevent you from running, just in case.

Finally, Todd was in range. He stuck the syringe into your neck without a second thought, and you were out like a light.

Damian was just glad your hand had landed in his hair.

[feinv]

inspired by @iovesia (she is one of those insanely talented writers you accidentally find on this goofy app)

john wick who despite being the most feared assassin in the entire underworld, is the sweetest gentleman to you.

john wick who is so rough with his actions, but gentle with his words. he is gripping your waist so firmly you can already feel red fingerprints tainted on your soft skin. he is biting down on your shoulder to muffle the groans that have been building up in his throat, leaving crescent shaped teeth marks. he is leaving red and purple bruises all over your neck, all over your body, pain and pleasure mixing together and overfilling your senses.

john wick who first eats you out like a starved man, using tongue and fingers in a way that makes you lightheaded, forgetting your own language and how to form words. he would be knuckles deep into you before having his tongue circling and lapping on your juices, his beard all soaked and as wet as you are.

john wick who then is thrusting so hard and deep into you that you swear you are about to black out. he hits that sweet spot over and over again, sending you into oblivion, not giving you a second to catch a breathe: hard, fast, and unforgiving. he manhandles you around by adjusting your body to his own liking, finding new positions to make you feel things you didn’t even know you were capable of feeling.

john wick who doesn’t plan on stopping even when you come more than two times, overstimulating and edging you again…again…and again, pressing his big hands on your hips and stomach to prevent your attempts of breaking from his grip. his mouth will then be latching on your nipples, biting and sucking down on them not so gently, pinching them harshly and making your whole body flinch.

john wick who has been mouthing nothing but delicate praises in your ear that entire time. “you are doing so good, sweetheart. such a good girl for me. taking me so well. fuckin’ beautiful.”

he can’t control himself. not when you involuntarily clench and pulse around him. not when you release those breathless moans and sweet whimpers. he wouldn’t be able to contain himself anymore and would absolutely snap his hips into yours with an animalistic rhythm, savoring the filthy sounds you make and pressing down his palm over the area where your belly bulges from him.

“i love you so much. so goddamn much, my sweet angel…” following up with him swearing that you are a literal goddess and he is most definitely in heaven, all while slamming harder and deeper.

john wick who always fucks you good and leaves you sore, while simulataneously showering you in sweet nothings and treating you like you are the only girl in the world. (you are for him!!)

[wandanatsgf]

Masterlist

WandaNat x Reader

Sugar, Sugar AU

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 (ongoing)

summary: After losing your job, you are desperate to come up with some money. Your best friend Kate signs you up for a sugar baby app where you meet Wanda and Natasha, who eventually become your sugar mommies.

Wanda x Reader

Lovers, Vampires, Strangers Part 1 Part 2 (ongoing)

summary: this story starts in the year 1850. You and your girlfriend Wanda are happy together. You have everything you could ever want, until she secretly turns you into a vampire. After a horrible accident, you leave her and that life behind. Now 173 years later, she's come to ask you for help.

While You Were Sleeping

summary: You work for the transit authority as an attendant in NYC where you see glimpses of Natasha everyday as she waits for the subway. You slowly gain a crush on the woman and fantasize about crazy things like marrying her or being in love with her, but you know realistically that would never happen. It’s just a way for you to pass the time. One day while waiting for the subway Natasha is mugged and left unconscious, which leads to a case of mistaken identity at the hospital where they assume that you are Natasha’s fiancée. You become caught up in everything and become too scared to tell the truth. Pretty soon you're hanging out with Natasha's family, but the longer you hang out with them, the more you fall in love with them, and especially one person in particular.

Right Where You Left Me

summary: Wanda is your maid who you fall head over heels for. But like all good things, you knew it wouldn't last. You knew your life was already decided for you, but that didn't mean you couldn't enjoy your time with her while it lasts.

Why Won't You Love Me

summary: You can tell your relationship is falling apart, but maybe there's still some hope for it.

Pray and I Shall Answer Thee Part 1 Part 2 (complete)

summary: Night after night you pray to the goddess of love with no response. After years of doing so with no answer, you become an unbeliever. Only after you have forsaken her does she make you a believer again.

Family Lines

summary: Your relationship with your family has never been good, but after Wanda insists on going to see them you can't say no. You watch as she falls for their charm until their façade cracks.

Mommy's Milk

summary: Wanda tricks you into sucking on her boobs and you get a shocking surprise

Natasha x Reader

Scream

summary: After the gruesome murder of your fellow classmates, Jean and Charles, everyone is on high alert. The police tell everyone to stay inside, but your friends decide a party is just what you all need. It's not like the killer will be there, right?

If You're Gonna Lie

summary: you know she's cheating, but you'd rather hear her lies than leave her

Drunk and Needy

summary: after a night of drinking you cling to your girlfriend Natasha

Do You Like Me Baby?

summary: Natasha teases you after you lie and tell her you don’t like her

I Can Fix Her (No Really I Can)

summary: Your girlfriend catches you talking about how soft she has gotten in front of her gang members. She has a reputation to protect, so she’s determined to prove you wrong

Kate Bishop x Reader

Taking Care of Her

summary: Kate comes home after a rough mission and you take care of her

Just a Little Bit of Your Heart part 1 part 2 (complete)

summary: You know you're not her only lover, but as long as she stays with you you're content with ignoring her infidelity.

You Don’t Go To Parties Anymore

summary: Kate looks for you at her birthday party and then remembers she ruined the relationship the two of you once had

Yelena Belova x Reader

Mac and Cheese

summary: After eating mac and cheese for the past few nights, you get sick of it. Your girlfriend, however, does not.

Villanelle x Reader

Date Night & Murder

summary: What a date night between two assassins looks like

[dorabledewdroop]

FIRST TIME SMUT OKAY IM SORRY

18+ only pls if you’re younger avoid this?

Warning: Smut but also it’s really badly written I’m so sorry

Summary: a little misunderstanding Tony’s new AI leads to a pretty pleasant conclusion.

It’s not really dubcon because everyone has feelings for each other but they act on it before talking about it?

I wrote this in an hour and it’s my first time writing smut I’m sorry it’s not that great but I’m trying my hand let’s see.

X—X—X—X—X

“I think it would be better if we tell her now” Natasha told Wanda. The both of them sitting in the kitchen while Wanda made breakfast for the team.

“What if she’s too scared? What if she says no? What will we do then? I don’t think I can handle that rejection, Nat” Wanda replied to her girlfriend, not looking her in the eye.

“You know that’s not going to happen, malyshka” Nat assured her.

It was no secret that you were hopelessly in love with the witch and the ex-assassin. Everyone knew about it. You weren’t exactly subtle when it came to it. Always avoiding to spar with both of them, flushing red anytime somebody even remotely teased you about it. Not to mention the fact that Wanda could always hear your thoughts about the two of them, never failing to blush at just how utterly smitten you were. It was getting ridiculous, why wouldn’t you just tell them? Could you really not see how they were flirting with you? Did you think that they would let just anyone cuddle with them during movie night? How about the fact that in the event of a nightmare, both of them would leave their shared room and ask to lay down besides you. Was that not clear enough? Could you-

Ms. Maximoff. Ms. Romanoff. Ms.Y/L/N appears to be in distress and calling for the two of you. Tony’s new beta AI ‘Wednesday’ interrupted the conversation.

Her vitals indicate increased heart rate and raised body temperature. She also seems to be repeating your names.

Sharing a concerned look they both rushed to your room

They were about to knock when they heard a loud ‘FUCK’

Not waiting, they barged into your room without knocking.

You yelped as the two of them entered. They noticed you were trembling, face flushed, and practically hyperventilating.

“W-what are you d-doing here?” You stammered, wide eyes darting between the two of them. “Detka, Wednesday told us that you weren’t doing well and that you were calling for us” Natasha said as she sat down beside you, causing a whimper to come out of your mouth. She noticed how your knuckles were white as you gripped the bed sheets. She was about to put her hand against your forehead when she glanced at your unlocked phone beside you. As soon as she saw the app that was open, she realised where the slight buzzing was coming from and put two and two together. Hiding her smirk she glanced at Wanda, and pointedly looked at your phone. Wanda’s eyes widened when she realised what was going on and grinned. Wanda slowly made her way towards your other side.

“I’m- shit- I’m fine” You muttered weakly. Closing your eyes, trying so so hard not to combust on the spot.

Without you realising, Wanda had taken your phone and increased the vibration setting to the second highest.

“Holy fuck.” You eyes widened as your chest started heaving, gripping the bedsheets even more.

“What’s wrong kotenok?” Wanda asked with faux concern. Running her finger up and down the side of your arm.

“Nothing. Just.. p-please leave. I’d like to be alone right now” You said, not looking at either of them in the eye. Trying so hard not to come right there. The vibrator inside you not doing you any favours. Why the ever-loving fuck did you not lock the door. You were going to kill Tony and his stupid AI.

“Are you sure you want us to leave, malyshka?” Natasha asked sweetly, looking at you as if she was going to eat you up-

Nope. Nope. You can’t think like that. You weren’t going to last and thinking like that definitely wasn’t going to help things.

“Holy fucking shit” You exclaimed, as the vibration jumped even higher. (Thanks to wanda. Not that you knew anyway)

“You know..” Wanda started

“If we did leave right now.. there’s something that we wouldn’t be able to tell you” Natasha continued.

Trying hard to control your breathing but failing. You were so close. You looked up at them in question.

They both leaned right next to either side of your head, their warm breath tickled against your neck.

“This is what we wanted to tell you” Wanda whispered

Natasha looked at her smirking and bit your neck.

“Come for us, baby” Wanda stated right next to your ear.

That’s it. That’s all it took. With a scream, you came. Your back arching, waves of pleasure leaving you writhing on the bed as they both helped keep you still. You just kept on coming, screaming their names until your voice gave out.

“That’s it, baby. Such a good girl for us” Natasha praised against your ear, earning a loud moan. The vibration just didn’t stop, and soon enough, you were coming again. This time however, the vibration stopped.

You felt like you were about to pass out until you realised where you were and whom you were with.

Your eyes shot open as you began to apologise when you saw their hungry looks. Your words died in your throat. That’s when you saw your phone in Wanda’s hand.

“You- you di-“ you started weakly

Wanda shushed you.

“Just enjoy this sweetheart.” She said as she stroked your forehead.

“You’re not upset?” You asked feeling vulnerable.

“No, baby, we’re not upset. We were deciding to how to tell you that we feel the same way when Wednesday told us you were calling for us.” Natasha said

You blushed, turning your head into the pillow and groaning in embarrassment before you turned your head in shock at the two of them.

“Wait. You like me?” You asked, hopeful

“No baby” Wanda said chuckling.

Natasha slapped her arm when she saw your hurt look and hurriedly continued. “What she means is that we don’t like you, we love you”

Your lower lip trembled as you looked at them.

“I love you so much too” you whispered, each hand caressing their cheeks. Your heart melted when they both simultaneously nuzzled into your palms.

Unable to hold herself anymore, Wanda practically fell on you as she enveloped you in a hug, only pulling back when you let out a loud squeak. She looked at you in concern.

Your face burned as you explained “It’s.. um.. it’s still inside me”

Both of them looked at each other and laughed, much to your embarrassment.

“Guess we’ll have to do something about that” She replied with a smirk, slowly leaning towards your face.

You were going to kill Tony. Maybe just hug him too.

X—X—X—X—X

I’m not a writer and definitely haven’t done this before. Pls tell me if you liked it and all thank you for reading.

[matan4il]

Update post:

Most of this will be about the unprecedented attack of the Islamist regime of Iran against Israel, but first I have to take a second to mourn a 14 year old boy, who was murdered in a Palestinian attack on Friday. At around 6 in the morning, teenager Binyamin Achimeir led his sheep herd out of the farm he lives in, but a few hours later, the sheep returned to the farm without him. At first, it was feared that he had some accident, or was dehydrated, and thousands of people voluntarily joined the search for him. On Saturday, at around noon, the IDF found his body, with signs of brutal violence on it. Based on the forensic evidence, he was murdered by several Palestinian terrorists, and he fought back. The army is still hunting down the murderers. May Binyamin's memory be a blessing.

Right, back to the Islamist regime of Iran's attack on Israel. I posted about it as soon as the news started being aired here, in case someone didn't know about it. The news broke past the normal time when people watch news on TV in Israel, I noticed it by chance right before I was about to turn in for the night. I'm physically okay, but I didn't get that much sleep, I had to wake up early to take care of some stuff, so I AM very tired, which is why I'm not going to do the usual thing I do, which is to look for English journalistic sources for everything, but I have no doubt even the stuff I won't look up can all be easily found online.

On a personal note, I can tell you that at 1:43 in the morning I heard the first explosion, but no sirens went off. A few more explosions followed, and only then did we hear the sirens. It was scary, for a moment we couldn't tell whether we're hearing explosions of missiles from neighboring areas, or whether something went wrong with the sirens, and we need to hurry into the bomb shelter. It seems like in Jerusalem specifically there was some issue with the sirens, I heard a reporter mention it. Also, the alert app didn't go off, even though it should have, at the latest when the sirens did.

This is what the Temple Mount looked like from an Iranian attack that could have easily destroyed the al-Aqsa mosque (it's not in the frame, but it's right next to where this was filmed):

Quick background: Iran is the biggest financier of anti-Israel terrorism for decades now, including funding Hamas, Hezbollah and the Houthis, all of which have been a part of a continuous attack on Israel since Oct 7 as Iran's proxies. Iran has sent its own military seniors to help and instruct those local terrorists, in places like Lebanon, Syria and Iraq. Israel has eliminated them whenever possible, this is not something new. On Apr 1, Israel carried out such a strike, in which it targeted 7 Iranian army seniors in Damascus, Syria's capital. Iran claimed Israel targeted the Iranian consulate in this city, but diplomatic buildings are all publicly listed. Iran has an embassy in Damascus (in a separate location) and no consulates. That's why the magnitude of Iran's response to this has taken Israel by surprise, because the Israeli strike wasn't that out of the ordinary. In fact, the US assassination of Iran's military commander, Qasem Soleimani, back in 2018, was a far graver blow for the Iranian regime, and yet it did not lead to an attack as massive as the one launched against Israel last night.

It is now known that some of the attack waves against Israel were intercepted by other countries, including The US, the UK, France and Jordan. It's been said that there's at least one more Arab country that helped in intercepting Iran's attack, but it can't be publicized. Many countries denounced Iran for attacking Israel.

We don't have numbers regarding the full size of the attack. Out of all the countries who participated in curtailing this attack, we know that the US has intercepted at least 70 suicide drones and 3 cruise missiles, while Israel has intercepted at least 185 suicide drones, 36 cruise missile and 110 ballistic missiles (that last one is the missile type that causes the most damage). Israel's interceptions are said to have been 99% successful, but like I said, no defence system is perfect. A small number of ballistic missiles did land inside Israel. One hit an Israeli air Force base in the south. There's over 30 people who got injured when rushing to the bomb shelter in the middle of the night (elderly people, including Holocaust survivors, have died from such injuries), and over 30 more ended up in hospital due to severe mental health reactions. On top of that, there's a 7 years old Muslim Bedouine girl who was injured by interceptors debris. A friend of her family that I heard being interviewed said the family wanted to go to the communal bomb shelter, but before they even had a chance to make it out of the house, the girl was hit by the debris piercing into their home, and she is suffering from severe head injuries. The hospital is currently fighting for her life.

The estimate of how much it cost Israel to defend its citizens from this one attack last night is 5 BILLION shekels (which is over 1.3 BILLION US dollars). That's for one night.

Israel will respond. According to one reporter I heard, that was decided as soon as it was clear how big the attack is, so this isn't about how much damage Iran caused, it's about how it crossed several red lines. This is the first time Iran itself attacked Israel itself, it's not an attack on an extension of Israel, nor was it done by using proxy terrorists. Israel has had terrorist organizations attacking it continuously since 2001, but this is the first attack from a fellow sovereign country since Iraq (led by tyrant Saddam Hussein) in 1991, so that in itself is crossing a red line. The size of the attack is also considered an escalation on Iran's part. In 2019, Iran launched a smaller scaled suicde drone attack on Saudi Arabia, and the latter's western allies refused to launch a counter attack, which led to these countries being seen as unreliable, and some Middle Eastern countries renewed their ties with Iran. That's why how it would seen in the Middle East if Israel doesn't react to an even bigger attack, and how it might drive more moderate countries to grow closer to Iran, is another consideration in why Israel must respond. Not to mention that launching such a mass attack basically caused a paralysis of the country once the first intel became known. For example, all educational activity (schools, universities, you name it) has been canceled, Israel's air space had to be closed, every single ambulance across the country had to be manned, and so on. That is not something any country can simply shrug off. Not to mention, Israel financially can't afford this reality to become normalized.

Not to mention, Israel tried to contain Hamas, PIJ and Hezbollah's rocket attacks for decades. What we got for it was the invasion and massacre on Oct 7. The lesson for most Israelis is that containing mass attacks on our population only leads to worse ones.

That said, there's also no desire here of getting dragged into a war on another front while we're still in the middle of one in Gaza and with Iran's proxies on several more fronts. So, Israel is looking for a balanced response, one that won't let this mass attack slide, but hopefully doesn't make matters much worse.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[dameronology]

liar (bucky barnes)

based on the paramore song of the same name lol a.k.a the one where bucky barnes is scared of his own feelings a.k.a jazz is back in her bucky era

warnings; language

enjoy!!

-jazz

Bucky Barnes had never considered himself a liar.

If anything, he had a hard time not telling the truth. It escaped from his mouth before he even had the chance to think about; no, Steve, I think your new hair cut sucks and sorry Sam, she wasn’t actually checking you out, she was waving at the guy behind you. Call it a product of his years as an assassin - because he couldn’t recall being this truthful back in the war - but it was part of who he was now. Sometimes he thought it meant he should come with a warning; something to say don’t pull the pin on this grenade, because he won’t lie to your mum about liking her food. Would that have been the worst Tinder bio ever? Yeah, no doubt.

Bucky had a hard time even lying to himself. That had become clear as soon as you whirl-whinded into his life. That day was still as crystal clear in his head six months later. It had been an early morning at the SHIELD HQ - the F-train had been delayed an hour and he’d come sprinting into a national security meeting, Starbucks in one hand (he was already late, he figured five minutes more for a frappuccino wouldn’t hurt) and a jumbled apology ready to offer. Then, not two seconds later, you’d come sprinting through the door, smacking into the back of him and launching the iced coffee from his hand, into the air, and straight into the lap of the British prime minister. 

Bucky was late, but you’d been even later. He liked that about you.

You were a whirl-wind in his life; his best friend from that day forward and the reason he could let go of the breath he’d been holding for so many years. Meetings were never boring with you, nor was the paperwork after long missions or the early starts. Every time he was late, he knew you’d take even longer because maybe his commute from Brooklyn was long but you lived three blocks away from work and managed to sleep through every goddamn alarm you’d set. 

It was clear about exactly three seconds after you met that you and Bucky were not destined to just be friends. You knew it and he knew it but neither of you wanted to talk about it. Avoiding the truth wasn’t necessarily lying - Bucky was thankful for that, because he knew that if you asked, everything would come out. He wasn’t ready for that. He wasn’t ready for love. 

So, you both left it to rest (and maybe to rot). 

“I hate meetings,” you grumbled. It was eight o’clock on a Monday morning and thanks to a national security threat, you once again found yourself in the SHIELD meeting room earlier than you felt to be natural. “Can’t they just put this in an email?”

“Probably,” Bucky replied. “Hi guys, there’s a terrorist threat. If you see something, say something. Lots of love, the security council.” 

You snorted. “Did you know I have all of their emails sent straight to my spam?”

“I would do the same but I can’t work out how the Facebook app works,” he muttered. “Why are there so many buttons? What are cookies?”

“Buck, why would you have the security council on Facebook?”

“Isn’t that…” he paused, scratching the back of his head. “Isn’t that where emails go?”

You dropped your head in your hands and let out a groan. “I only just got you used to Twitter. I’ll leave it a few weeks before I overwhelm you with any more social media apps.”

“What about TikTok?”

“I am never letting you download TikTok,” you said. 

“Sam said that I should make thirst traps-”

“- please no!” you cut him off. “Never take life advice from Sam.”

Sam was sat across the table from you, a scowl on his face. He was a morning person - hell, the man had already been for a run that morning - but the combination of you and Bucky at any point in the day was enough to drive him up the wall. He glanced between you both, brown eyes calculating for a second, before a grin spread across his face. 

“Don’t worry, he doesn’t,” Sam chirped. “Remember last week when I told you to do that thing, Buck?”

Bucky’s eyes widened. “Shut up, Sam.”

“What thing?” you frowned.

“It’s not mine to share,” Sam shrugged. “But based on the last five minutes’ worth of interactions alone? I think it would be best to listen to me-”

“- I swear to god if you don’t stop talking!” Bucky cut him off; then he glanced at you, blue eyes wavering for a second. “Don’t listen to him.”

Sam knew that he was doing; playing devil’s advocate because a) it meant he could piss off Bucky and b) hopefully get two of his best friends to finally get together after months of pining. It had gotten to the point where him and Steve had literal bets on it. Not necessarily on if you would get together, but more on when. 

“I’m not, but you’re acting weird,” you said. “Want to share with the class?”

“No,” Bucky firmly said.

“Buck,” you warned; it was clear by your voice that you weren’t fucking around. “I don’t know what immature high school bullshit is going on right now but I don’t appreciate it.” 

“I’ll talk to you about it later, okay?” he said. 

“You’re an ass,” you replied.

Picking up your bag and coffee, you shuffled over to the other side of the meeting table where Steve was sat. He hadn’t said a word in any of this; you quite often cursed the lack of boundaries amongst the four of you, but you couldn’t fault Steve that morning. He’d kept to himself, simply watching in awe at the chaos that had just unfolded. 

You stopped in the seat beside him, glancing over at him. “If you say a word, I’ll hit you.”

“I’m not saying anything,” he held up his hands in defense.

The meeting was quick, thankfully. Even worse, it definitely could have been put in an email. You also couldn’t help but notice the British diplomats watching your coffee carefully every time you moved - that was a joke you could have made to Bucky, had he not managed to get himself into your bad books.

You’d barely been out the board room five minutes before you were practically wrestling him by the ear into a quiet corner. The meeting had been quick, thankfully. It hadn’t felt that way for Bucky, who’d been sat opposite you the entire time, barely avoiding your dagger-y gaze. If looks could kill, his vibranium arm would have had a fair few dents in it. 

“So?” you asked. “What was that all about?”

“It’s nothing,” Bucky quickly replied. “I promise-”

“- bullshit!” you cut him off. “Why are you keeping things from me, Buck?”

“I’m not.”

“You are!” you exclaimed. “Look, I don’t even want to know what you and Sam were talking about but at least have the common decency not to keep me out of a conversation that’s about me!”

“Why aren’t you mad at Sam too?!”

“Believe me, I have it out for Sam too but it’s worse when this stuff comes from you!”

Bucky thinned his eyes at you. “Why?”

“You know why.”

He sighed, shifting from one foot to another. Eyes to the ceiling for a second, he took a deep breath. 

“Sam told me last week that I should ask you out,” he said. “Said something about how everyone around us can see what we don’t, and that we’re kidding ourselves, and…”

You sniffed, trying to stay composed. It had been a long time coming, there was no denying that. Bucky had been avoiding the conversation because he wasn’t ready but you’d been avoiding it because you were terrified of the answer. Rejection from literally anyone else in the world would have been fine, but from him? There was no metaphor for that pain, or that fear. 

“And what?” you asked. “What do you think of that?”

He shrugged. “I think it’s…”

You both waited for a second, the tension in the air almost suffocating.

“...dumb.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Dumb?!”

“Yeah?” Bucky sounded unsure. “We’re best friends, and-”

“- that’s bullshit!” you snapped. “Buck, I know you can be confusing but…if there’s one thing I am certain of, it’s that we are not just best friends and you know it!”

“Do I?”

You took a step back, sniffing. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s dumb. Forget I said anything.”

“Wait, don’t be like that-”

“- it’s fine, James,” you sniffed. “I’ll see you around.”

“Are we good?”

“Yeah, we’re good.”

(You weren’t good.)

“Okay, I’m glad. Call me later, yeah?”

“Yeah, of course,” you forced a smile.

(You weren’t going to call him.)

–

Five days.

That’s the longest Bucky had gone without talking to you since he’d met you and also the exact amount of time you’d been ignoring him for. He’d given in calling you after three days, and considered coming around your apartment after four, but then he got a last minute call onto a mission where your name was at the top of the call sheet. Fab. 

Bucky liked to consider himself a good flier, but it certainly would have been easier to co-pilot a jet with someone who was actually willing to talk to him. It was quite amazing, actually, to see the lengths that you were willing to go to all in pursuit of icing him out. 

“This is Barnes to air traffic control on QJ564. We’ll be approaching our destination in about five minutes, currently at 10,000 feet, over.”

“This is ATC to QJ564, you’re cleared for landing in Munich, runway four. Over.”

“This is Barnes to ATC on QJ564. Runway four confirmed, thank you. Could you also tell my co-pilot that I’m sorry and that I miss them? Over.”

“Uh…this is ATC to QJ564. Barnes says he’s sorry and that he misses you. Over.”

“This is Barnes’ co-pilot on QJ564, tell him that I think he’s a cun-”

“- this is Captain Rogers monitoring the channels for suspicious activity from the headquarters. May I remind the pilots aboard QJ564 of the appropriate workplace manners over professional channels? Over.”

After Steve’s voice, the lines went silent. Bucky glanced over at you, eyebrows raised. 

“That was rude.”

You continued to ignore him, attention turned to landing the jet safety. It wasn’t hard - Tony Stark had built a jet that practically landed itself, but it was still a good enough excuse to blank out your best friend for the next five minutes. Still, none of that conversation was worth the absolute castigating you were about to receive from Captain America as soon as you were back in New York. He was no fun sometimes. 

With the jet safely on the runway, you parked up at the airport and made your way down to the tarmac where the agents were waiting. All you had to do now was await instructions from headquarters on what to do next. That gave you more empty time with Bucky, who was stood next to you. So, you moved away and leant against the wheels of the plane, pulling out your phone to play Doodle Jump.

The call came through eventually, but it was to Bucky’s radio instead of yours. 

“Right, agents,” he began, though it was more a sigh than anything. “Coulson is currently ten minutes out on another quinjet to lead the mission. Agent (Name) and I have been removed from this operation for the foreseeable future so that we can sit in the jet, man the communications systems and re-take the online seminar about appropriate workplace language.”

“What?!” you exclaimed. “Nice one, Barnes!”

Bucky forced a smile, trying not to crack up in front of the fifteen junior agents stood in front of you. “Why we have to retake it is a mystery to me.”

“Good luck out there, guys,” you huffed. With that, you spun around and stormed back on board the jet. 

Bucky was hot on your heels, closing up the door behind him as he went. He didn’t really know what to say - somehow he’d made you angrier, now - but apolgoising profusely felt like a pretty good place to start. 

“So you’re talking to me now?” he asked, following you through the fuselage. 

“No!”

“You just did!”

“Fuck off, Bucky!”

“And again!”

“Leave me alone!”

He grabbed your arm, stopping you in your tracks. “I’m sorry, okay?”

“Sorry doesn’t even begin to cut it,” you huffed.

Taking a seat, you curled your legs up in front of you. You didn’t try and swat (or hit) Bucky when he leant down in front of you, which he took as a good sign. It was time to pull out the big guns. 

“Can I talk for just…maybe five seconds, possibly ten, without you interrupting?”

You nodded.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you. I never want to hurt you because you’re the last person in the world I’d ever want to upset but I was put on the spot by what Sam said, and then by what you said, and it freaked me out a little,” he began. “You and I both know that he’s right - but never tell him I said that - and honestly, the silence you’ve given me over the last five days made me realise that more than ever.”

You smiled. “What are you saying, Buck?”

“I love you,” he said. It was plain and simple, completely without hesitation and entirely with conviction. “I’ve known that for a while but I just didn’t want to admit it to myself, but like I said…five days without you made me realise I don’t even want to go five seconds without you.”

“That’s how you apologise,” you gave him a watery grin, poking him in the chest. 

“So?”

“So what?”

“Anything you want to say to that?”

“Oh, yeah!” you exclaimed. “I love you too.”

Bucky pulled you into a kiss; he held you flush against him, one hand holding the back of your neck, metal one gripping the back of your tac-vest. Despite everything, he was warm and you were certain then that you were never going to let him - if not a little ecstatic that you’d found a new way to shut him up. 

You both jumped back when you heard the doors to the jet go, only to turn around and see Phil Coulson on the phone, a glare on his face.

“What is it with you two and inappropriate work place behaviour?”

[lucid-loves]

Taste Like Venom ~ Simon "Ghost" Riley Part 3

Pairing: Ghost x assassin!reader (fem!reader, no use of y/n, callsign “Hex”)

Word Count: 3.7k

CW: angst, violence, blood, strong language, scars, enemies to friends to lovers trope, slow burn, fluff, clear attraction and sexual tension, smut later on, reader POV and ghost POV, minors dni, Soap lives in this AU

Let me know if I missed any CWs.

Story Synopsis: After Makarov gets away once again, Laswell decides to force a favor from you, the world’s greatest assassin and best-kept secret. You are now expected to help the 141 with taking down Makarov in addition to playing nice with them. It’s hard to play nice when you have always worked alone. It doesn’t help that one of the team members, Ghost, gets curious about you in each interaction. 

Chapter Synopsis: The great 141 road trip is fine in the beginning, but being on the road for eleven hours clearly gets to everyone, especially you. For once, Ghost tries to show you some genuine compassion without any ulterior motives. 

A/N: Thought that this would not only be a fun part to write, but also a breather to get to develop more character dynamics. Feel free to comment what you think each member of the 141 favorite music genre is! Including your own~

Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Part 7 ~ Part 8 ~ Part 9 ~ Part 10

Such a long drive was new territory for the boys. They were so used to helicopter rides, armored cars, and jets to take them where they needed to go fast. For their size and stature, the minivan was cramped, slightly rough on the road, and just plain weird. It took a few seat adjustments before everyone was as comfortable as they could be. Save for Gaz. He just prayed that a pit stop was coming soon and someone would be willing to switch seats with him.

For the first hour, the ride was noisy with conversation. Conversation that tried to reel you in. Price, looking through the front windshield, asked you a question. “How do you know where you’re going, Hex?”

“I’ve spent time memorizing road maps around the area. We’re taking a back road. A scenic route. Any other cars on the road would further see this minivan as a family road trip through the country.” You elaborated, your eyes steady on the road ahead. There were a lot of twists and turns on this route, but you knew that it would pay out in the end.

“Hidden in plain sight.” Soap added, his tone showing that he was a bit impressed with the logic of it all. Perhaps you knew what you were doing after all. Without you meaning to or doing anything extraordinary, the group was slowly starting to trust you and your judgment as evidenced by your creative planning. You were becoming quite the leader as well. But, you weren’t completely out of the woods yet. They still kept some of their guards up, just in case.

“There’s a method to the madness. Don’t underestimate the power of assumptions.” You advised, a word of advice that would hopefully stick with them after all of this was over. If they listened, perhaps some problems the world was facing could actually be solved. 

Soap pulled out his phone with the intention of making this trip more enjoyable. Making sure that his VPN you required was turned on, he began to browse through songs using his music app. Once he added his favorite songs, he passed it to his captain. “Whatever you want, Cap. No genre limits.”

Price took the phone and rubbed his chin for a second in thought, his brick-brown beard moving with his fingers. Eventually, he added some songs to the playlist. Once he was satisfied, he passed the phone to Gaz who lit up at the idea. “Now it’s gonna feel like a real road trip!”

A few more songs were added before the phone was passed all the way up to Ghost. Hesitantly, Ghost added his own favorite songs. His teammates knew him decently well. They’re even seen his face before under the mask. However, there were still things they were learning about when it came to his personal life. One of which was his favorite kind of music. Thankfully, he was willing to share that information, trusting his team more and more with each passing day. 

He looked at you when he was done, wondering if he should even offer. Having watched the interactions from the mirror, you decided to stay out of it. When Ghost was done, you just shook your head for a silent “no.” Simon imagined that you were rejecting the idea in your mind based on the warning look you gave him. Don’t even try. That made him really wonder what kind of music you liked. The records back home were incredibly diverse. But what was your favorite? Jazz? Metal?

The phone was passed back to Soap. It was quite a diverse playlist. He didn’t realize that his team had such different tastes, but it just made him excited to give it a listen. He connected it to the car’s bluetooth and hit the shuffle button. Ghost went ahead and switched the car to bluetooth mode for him. Almost immediately, the car filled up with music, starting with one of Price’s songs. 

Instead of tuning out, you tuned in. Very much so. Small details, even favorite songs, could say a lot about a person. You were learning about the men now. Not for the sake of potential friendship, no. For the sake of information for potential future manipulation if things went sideways. You always prepared for the worst, even when times seemed like the best. 

The discussion carried forward, now with the ease of real music in the background. Gaz decided to take the plunge and ask you a question. “So. . . Hex. . . You lived a long time out in the woods. How did you survive on your own? There doesn’t seem to be a grocery store for miles around.”

You adjusted your sitting position, trying to get comfier in the driver’s seat. If you were going to deal with this for most of the trip, you might as well get as comfortable as you can. You answered, one hand on the wheel and one arm resting near the window. “I have an acquaintance who’s a farmer that gives me whatever I need. In return, I pleasure his wife, which helps save their marriage.”

His eyes got huge, not expecting the answer. He nearly tripped over his words. “Really?!”

“No, Kyle. You really think I would do such a thing?” You scowled. Internally, though, you were cracking up at his bewilderment. Soap and Price began chuckling in their seats. Even Simon was cracking a smile that no one could see. Kyle’s embarrassed blush that matched the falling red leaves outside made them even more amused. Who knew you had a sense of humor? A crude sense at that. 

He muttered an apology. At least he was a good sport about it. A part of him found it quite funny too. After the chuckles died down, you answered his question truthfully. “Kate does supply drops for me. Not all the time, just when I need more meat than the woods can provide. Everything else I grow.”

It was an answer that made sense and didn’t reveal much about yourself. Nothing too fascinating about it. At least, to everyone save for Ghost. He took note of your truth, pictured you growing fruits and vegetables, hands in the dirt and sweat dripping down your temple. He imagined you hunting too. A heavy rifle and camo. Patience, aim, fire. He thought that some of the foods he had from your kitchen tasted a little gamey. 

“Didn’t you ever get lonely being out there all by yourself?” Soap inquired, not afraid to ask the question that was on everyone’s mind. All eyes were on you as you took a deep breath.

“No, Johnny. Never.”

This was partially a lie as well as partially the truth. There were times where you did feel alone. Like the only human left on the planet. Kate’s calls every now and then help curb it a little, but it wasn’t the same as actually being in the same space with someone physically. Yet, when you were surrounded by people on a classified mission or watching disaster after disaster on TV, it made you glad that you weren’t a part of any of it. The flurry of different emotions coming from all different sides when with civilization was often too much for you. You needed control. More control than what you could usually get when you were on the outside again.

Simon was watching you carefully now, trying to pick up any indication of a cracked resolve. A twitch, a change in breathing, anything to read into further. There was no way you never felt lonely. Yet, you said it with such conviction that it startled everyone. Ghost just couldn’t believe you.

Having killed the conversation, the boy awkwardly tried to change topics. Now excluding you. Good. You preferred it this way.

~

A few hours in and the car was quiet. Light, easy music played now from the car speakers as everyone took a nap. Except for Ghost, of course. Fortunately, he did keep himself occupied by reading the book you lent him. The first couple of chapters were a miss in his opinion. After a couple more, it started to get good. It didn’t take him long to actually get invested in the story, reading between the lines as you had done when you read. You had good tastes.

Enjoying the quietness of the trip was something you didn’t think you would be able to do. Especially with Simon in the front. Surprisingly, he was being good which you hoped would like for the rest of the trip. Unfortunately, you jinxed it in your head. Out of the corner of your eye, he bookmarked his spot and took a break. Now, he wanted to talk to you.

“You didn’t play your own music.” 

“So?” You shrugged, wondering where he was going with this. Nothing good probably.

“Why not?” He simply asked, himself not knowing what the big deal was. It was just music. You could have even lied. Picked out music you hated. Instead, you just opted out, not even willing to risk three minutes of any particular melody.

You suppressed an annoyed groan. Not this shit again. “What part of ‘leave me alone’ do you not understand, Simon?”

There you go again, saying his name with such disrespectful ease. It still made his heart beat faster hearing it from you. It still made his muscles tense in vexation as well. You noticed this from how the grip on his arms got tighter, his arms crossing his chest. “How much could music taste actually reveal about you as an individual?”

“A lot! God damn it, when are you going to drop this stupid shit? Quit playing your stupid fucking game?!” You spat, trying to keep your cursing at a low volume lest you wake up the rest of the team. Your knuckles were turning white with how hard you were gripping the steering wheel, desperately trying to keep your cool.

However, he didn’t drop it. He didn’t want to, so he wouldn’t. Simon could be just as stubborn as you which made you want to punch him. Have his teeth fall out of his mouth and get caught in his skull mask. “You mean to tell me that you’ve learned a lot about us based on our favorite songs alone? That’s just ridiculous, Hex.”

He could use your name as a curse too. Anything to get you to keep talking to him. Anything to keep your attention. To figure you out. As much as you didn’t want to give him what you wanted, you did anyway out of sheer aggravation. “It’s called Music Psychology, you fucking ass! Do they do anything besides tell you what to shoot in that god forsaken military?! Do they really keep you all fucking braindead?!”

“Watch your mouth, Hex! You don’t want to say anything you don’t mean.” Simon warned, his voice low like a bass about to snap its strings. He had to remind himself that you weren’t like them when it came to combat approach to cool down. The 141 employed leadership, strength, swift execution. An assassin like you employed other values, one being the art of psychology apparently. 

He wasn’t going to let you badmouth his team and those back home that don’t deserve your slander, though. Many people back home were plenty capable with their own skill sets. It wasn’t fair to put them all in one box just because they followed the orders of the government.

“Watch my mouth?! Have you even heard the shit that’s coming out of yours?! Or is your head so far stuck up your own ass that you can’t hear what you say?” You antagonized further, making the situation worse with each passing insult.

“Why are you so fucking defensive?! You cracked a joke earlier, but now asking about your music tastes is too much? You don’t make any fucking sense, Hex. What the hell are you so afraid of?” His own voice was rising with volume as he spiraled out of control as well.

You were practically yelling at this point like the rest of the world didn’t exist except for you and Simon. A personal bubble where you could really try to rip him a new one. You didn’t hold back. “I’m not afraid of anything, Ghost! I just want you to leave me the fuck alone! Why are you so desperate to know me?!

“You’re part of this team, whether you like it or not!  Whether you want to be an enemy or not! Part of that is trusting us with your life. All of it!” He argued, trapping himself in this conflict bubble with you.

Your temper was boiling over to the point you could cry. Why was he doing this to you? Why couldn’t he just let this go? “Why can’t you understand that I am never going to be part of your team?! I never can and I never will!”

At that he paused. There was something about your last retort. Never can? It was oddly specific. What did that mean?

Just then, the light for gas lit up on the dashboard. You clenched your jaw, cursing more profanities that would have anyone blush. A couple miles down was a gas station. A wave of relief washed over you. Now you had an excuse to exit the car to get away from Simon.

You didn’t realize it before with how provoked you were, but the 141 in the back was awake and clearly heard the two of you bickering. The tension thick enough to choke on made it hard for them to interfere. This pit stop would hopefully let things settle down again.

As soon as the car was parked near an empty pump, the doors slid open to let the men out. It felt good to stretch their legs and breathe in some fresh air. It was about time Gaz was relieved of the back seat too. Price, Soap, and Gaz headed into the convenience store for a moment to pick up drinks and snacks, something that was essential for their road trip experience. You leaned against the car, waiting for the gas pump to finish. The entire time, Ghost sat silently in the front doing his own breathing exercises to get his temper under control. God, you were venomous. Troublesome, irritating, infernal, a million other words. Yet, you were beautiful when you were pissed. He couldn’t understand it.

Finally, the car was loaded up once again, now complete with drinks, snacks, and a full tank of gas. The seating arrangements changed, Price now in the back to allow Gaz a chance to let his legs stretch out more. Besides that, he didn’t really want to be up front with all of the conflict. He would normally break it up, but he still didn’t know enough about you to feel comfortable doing so. It was better for this to just play out. It wasn’t like Ghost couldn’t hold his own.

In an attempt to lighten the mood, Soap ripped open a bag of chips followed by a joke. “Looks like mom and dad are fighting again.”

The smirk on his face was quickly wiped away as a pair of keys jingled right near his ear, embedded in his head rest. You had turned from your seat as soon as you registered his distasteful joke, thrown the car keys like a knife, and narrowly missed pinning his ear against the fabric. The car was dead silent as you stared daggers into him. Despite being a strong man with plenty of experiences with danger along with close calls, this experience had Johnny near pissing himself. If looks could kill, he would have been six feet under already.

What was worse was the fact that you missed on purpose. 

“Shut the fuck up! You are not to insinuate that again. Ever! Now, I don’t want anyone trying to talk to me or talk about me for the rest of this fucking trip. Talk to each other, I don’t give a shit. But no more dragging me into any conversation. Are we fucking clear?!”

You were met with quick, obedient nods followed by Soap gingerly handing you back your keys. Before you all knew it, you were back on the road like you didn’t just nearly kill Soap.

Simon was speechless, not expecting you to be so. . . dangerous. His feelings about what just happened were conflicting. On one hand, he wanted to fight you to defend his trusted sergeant that meant no harm, even if he didn’t really like the joke either. On the other hand, he’s never been more attracted to a woman in his life.

The car ride was silent for the next several hours.

~

Your muscles ached from your stiff position. You’ve been driving this whole time, only allowing gas breaks to be your time to stretch out. The boys have rotated seats every stop, now including Ghost who was finally giving you some space by being in the back. Last stop, though, he moved right up to the front with you once again. 

You were getting the dreaded road trip tunnel vision. After so many hours of driving, you couldn’t see anything except for the road ahead. You weren’t so much as driving anymore. You more like just looking out the front windshield, barely keeping up with the surrounding area that passed by. What you normally would recognize as trees, road signs, and roadkill were now just a big blur.

“You’re tired.” Simon commented, treading very carefully. He didn’t want to start another fight. Far from it. He just couldn’t bear to see you so exhausted from driving. 

“I’m fine.” Your voice strained, having lost some of it from the screaming match earlier in the trip. You weren’t used to talking so much as you have been for the past week, let alone fighting with words. A warm cup of tea with honey sounded so good right now.

Ghost took a deep breath in before he gently settled his hand on your shoulder. The fact that you didn’t shrug his touch away was very telling that you were really out of it. “Come on, Hex. Just for a bit. Pull over and I’ll take over the drive. We can switch back after you recuperate.”

It took you a minute to agree. Pulling off to the side of the road, you switched places. The room to stretch out in the passenger side was very much needed. Your bones cracked as you really gave yourself time to take it easy for a moment. “Just an hour. Then, we’ll switch.”

He nodded, finally agreeing with you on something out loud. “Just an hour.”

~

You ended up dozing off for longer than intended. Despite the agreement, Simon let you rest. The trip was already almost complete anyway. What was two more hours to add to your much needed rest?

When the car slowed to a stop, the gang woke up out of their naps, eager to exit the minivan and head into the average-looking hotel you had designated as the new checkpoint. It was nearing dinner-time, the city bustling with people heading to enjoy their meals. Price was ready for something other than chips. Soap and Gaz were already discussing potential food spots as if they were tourists. 

As they unloaded the car to carry their things into the hotel, you stayed asleep. Dead asleep. The deepest sleep you have had in what felt like a lifetime. The men were careful to not wake you up as they unloaded luggage after luggage out of the trunk. When everything was squared away with checking in as well as bringing luggage up to the rooms, you were still snoozing away, much to their surprise.

Price opened up your door, ready to wake you up to get a move on. However, Ghost stopped his hand from touching you. “I’ll take her up. Just go ahead and grab some grub.”

Well, John wasn’t going to say no to that offer. He would rather not be bit by such a feral woman. Though, he did feel like he had to warn Ghost of what he was really doing, having observed just about everything he was trying to do in regards to you. “You’re playing with fire, you know.”

Ghost unlocked your seatbelt and picked you up out of the minivan in a princess carry. Miraculously, you still didn’t wake up. “I know. . .”

The hotel staff were concerned with him carrying you into the hotel. A large man with a skull mask carrying an unconscious lady certainly didn’t look good. In order to avoid interference, Simon had a lie ready for when a bodyguard approached. “I know the mask is scary, but it hides some burn scars. I’m just taking the missus up to the room. She fell asleep in the car.”

Not being paid enough to question the lie, he allowed the both of you to pass by. 

You were heavy in his arms, but nothing he couldn’t handle. He could feel the softness of your skin, the firmness of your muscles. He could make out each individual eyelash that just barely kissed under your eyes. As much as you drove him crazy, you truly were beautiful.

The ding of the elevator reaching their floor knocked him out of his trance. Using a room key, he headed into your space for the next couple of days. The room was pretty basic. A bed, a dresser, tv, bathroom, nightstands, a desk. The only thing that really made it stand out was the original art of the wall made by local, Italian artists. 

He settled your sleeping body down onto the queen-sized bed, brushing your hair out of your face as you settled into the mattress. Looking at you like this was a breath of fresh air for him. He didn’t think he would be able to see you like this so soon. 

Sleeping around others was a sign of trust. Were you just really that exhausted? Probably. Ghost would still take this as a sign of victory anyway.

For a few moments longer, he studied your features. The sound of his stomach grumbling for a meal encouraged him to leave you be for now to which his brain protested. Then again, you probably wouldn’t like it if you found out that he watched you sleep.

Before he left, he took one last look at you, burning the image into his mind. “You said you didn’t sleep, kitten.”

[animentality]

And yes. These are all characters from my demon summoning assassin novel, 7 Deadly Habits of the Modern Demon Summoner.

Which is COMPLETELY FREE to download on the free Kindle app (available for iOS, Android, tablet, etc. on the app store) from February 22nd to February 26th!

eBook only, but if you download it for free now, and like it, then you can always buy the physical copy to have on your shelf :D

Link here.

Full description below. I'd appreciate a reblog/signal boost, because I don't want anyone to miss grabbing the book while it's most accessible. But also vote on which one you think is the worst, because I promise you, they are much, much, much worse in the actual novel.

Anyway. Thanks for listening. Sorry to bother. But not that sorry.

Transcription in case the photo does not load:

Twenty-three-year-old CEO Don Francisco wants one of the richest women in the world dead. Which one? Daphne Oakland: actress, model, heir to the Oakland financial empire, and unbeknownst to the general public, talented demon summoner. But since Francisco isn’t nearly as rich as the established Oakland family, he hires the only assassin he can afford: Sebastián Monterey, a down-on-his-luck, struggling demon summoner, the cheapest and lowest ranking one there is.

But Monterey is nothing like Cisco expected. He’s high-spirited, reckless, relentlessly cheerful …and worse, he’s a bit of a slut. The CEO is horrified to find out that Monterey has not just one, but seven angry exes in the killing business, who will stop at nothing to get in the way of an already impossible hit. Not only do they have personal reasons for wanting to see their former lover dead, they also have professional reasons: they are all currently employed by the Oakland family members!

To make matters worse, Monterey finds out the Oaklands are each protecting a demon ritual artifact for Daphne. When brought together, all 7 can be used to summon a demon more powerful than any currently contracted on earth. If he is to carry out this hit at all, he’ll have to interfere with the summon by stealing every artifact, and maybe even summon the demon before Daphne can.

But that's only if none of his exes kill him first!

And here's some lovely art of the MC, Rey, which I commissioned from the talented @marcissistv (Twitter).

[mochinek0]

Daminette December 2023: 23-Astrology

CONTINUATION OF 'SOMETHING GOOD COMING'

Jon was browsing the horoscope app again.

"You don't really believe that stuff, right?" Marinette questioned.

"Yes." Jon answered.

"Why?" Damian asked.

"Sagittarius are sometimes opinionated, impatient, and detached, but they can also be passionate and inspiring." Jon spoke, "Doesn't that sound like Damian?"

"Actually, it does." Marinette stated.

Damian huffed, "What about yours?"

"My what?" Mari asked.

"What is your sign?" Jon questioned.

"I don't know." Marinette answered, "I've only followed the Chinese zodiac."

"When is your birthday?" Jon prodded.

"Late July." she stated.

"It says here, that you are a Leo." Jon continued.

"Is that a good thing?" she asked, looking confused to Damian.

"Well, your romance options are better than his." Jon chuckled.

"Explain." Damian growled.

Jon winced, "It says your crushes usually end up falling for your friends."

"I don't have friends." Damian replied, "I have people I tolerate." making Mari giggled.

"For Marinette," the half-alien continued, "it says lots of people have crushes on you."

Mari shrugged, "Except the people I like."

"What?" The Wayne heir asked, confused.

"There was Nathaniel, a guy who flirts with puns, a musician, two girls, and my own crushes' cousin." the designer sighed.

The boys just sat there in shock.

"Did you date any of them?" Jon asked.

"The musician for a month." she answered.

"Did he do something?" Damian pushed.

"No." Mari replied, "He was very sweet, but I was always busy."

Jon quickly changed the subject, sensing Mari become uncomfortable, "It says here, Damian wouldn't date because his mother said no."

"You have met my mother." Damian spoke, "You wanna go against her?"

"No." Jon declared.

"Then, it's not a lie." the ex-assassin stated.

Marinette giggled.

"She is the strictest woman I have ever met." Damian spoke.

Jon continued, "It says, here, that you fall for confidence."

Mari nodded, "I can sorta see that."

"What does mine say?" Damian questioned.

"It says you fall for cute smiles." Jon answered, gleefully.

"Well, that's bullshit." the Wayne heir declared, "I see a bunch of harpies smiling at men every time I go to galas."

Marinette patted his shoulder, hoping to comfort him. The bell rang, ending lunch. Mari stood up, waving at them, and left the table.

Jon leaned close to his best friend, "Were any of them cute? Did any of them make you think of their smile again, later?"

"No." Damian answered.

"Then it wasn't a cute smile." the half-alien answered, before leaving as well.

'Cute smile?'

Damian couldn't help, but think of Marinette's smile. Damian stood up quickly.

"Astrology is bullshit." he snapped and left.

Only the few people that were left, notice that his ears were tipped red.

TAGLIST: @maribat-calendar-events @animeweebgirl@a-star-with-a-human-name@meme991001@vixen-uchiha@abrx2002@alysrose-starchild@fandom-trapped-03@dood-space@moonlightstar64@saltymiraculer@marveldcedits20@09shell-sea09@icerosecrystal@animegirlweeb@insane-fangirl-of-everything@blueblossombliss@nickristus-dreamer@megawhitleycalderonpaganus@missmadwoman@meira-3919@princessdaisysolosyourfaves@blep-23@fangirlingfanatic@darkhinauniverse@ravenr22@im-a-satanic-ritual@ravennm84@bianca-hooks123@a-slytherinish-gryffindor@starling218

[teecupangel]

You know I always thought the watch dogs would be a perfect setting for Desmond to take a step back from a assassin and just go around helping people, like Aiden with his vengeance for Lena, or/and causing chaos with dedsec in San Francisco

Since we already have an Aiden x Desmond idea where it looks like it’s shaping up to Aiden fucking Abstergo (and maybe even the Assassins) up for kidnapping Desmond, let’s make this one more on the side of Desmond trying his best not to be part of whatever mess DedSec is brewing in San Francisco and failing XD

It was meant to be a vacation of some sort.

The Brotherhood’s little ‘sorry we got you killed to save the world but, hey, at least you lived! Here! Have a little vacay while we try and find your team who went underground after they thought you died’ apology ‘gift’.

Why San Francisco?

Because apparently Abstergo hasn’t gotten their little grubby hands in it that much so Desmond would have a semi-normal life.

Free boarding. Enough weekly allowance to get by and even splurge on food once a week…

It was…

Okay.

But it can get a bit monotonous so he would sometimes take a walk, look around.

Maybe climb the tallest building and use his Eagle Vision to make sure there’s no reds nearby.

There were a lot of gangs around these parts apparently but they seemed… uninterested in Desmond so they didn’t ping as red.

Desmond supposed he could do San Francisco a solid and take care of these gangs but he was on vacation.

He was sure he was going to be roped into the latest POE-related bullshit after this so he’d rather be lazy for once.

He deserved it.

He fucking died.

But, of course, since his name was Desmond Miles and his main profession was ‘fate’s favorite chew toy’…

One sunny day while he was just ordering food from a foodtruck that makes really delicious chilis that made his stomach curse him hours later (worth it though), his phone vibrated.

His phone never gave any notification.

He wanted to groan.

It seemed it was time for his vacation to be over.

Only to blink when he took out his phone and saw that it wasn’t a message or email from the Assassin only called Bishop.

It was from an app that Erudito apparently added to the phone.

… alerting him that someone tried to hack his phone.

He looked around with his Eagle Vision.

… and saw a red phone.

He blinked once more and saw that the man holding the red phone was wearing a blue baseball cap and had glasses.

And he was staring straight back at Desmond.

He mouthed the words ‘Erudito?’ to Desmond and Desmond grimaced.

Great.

Some hacker now saw his face and thought he was part of Erudito.

He has no idea how to fucking hack.

So Desmond did the best thing he could do considering the circumstances.

He ran away.

And the damn hacker ran after him.

[3-2-whump]

Mistaken Accusation

<prev next>

Well, let's get into it. Beginning of the end. Special thanks to my beta readers @whumped-by-glitter and @generic-whumperz ! Do mind the tags, and enjoy

This chapter does reference The Hit, so please skim that first if you are not already familiar with it

Author's Note: This is where shit gets real (more real, that is), and where the author may make some decisions that might not vibe with the readers. To those readers, all I will say is fanfiction is a thing, canon divergence is a thing, and I will honestly be more intrigued than mad if you end up scrapping this part and writing your own version! (Just lmk, like tag me or dm me so I can see?) But, um, yeah, onto the chapter!

TW/CW: description and mention of STD, prostitution whump, mock execution, gun violence (brief, but there), collared whumpee, bound and blindfolded whumpee, shock, emotional whump, fear of death, pissing oneself out of fear, emotional angst, degrading language, toxic relationship, manipulative whumper, possessive whumper, intimate whumper

As Khaled relieved himself in the office bathrooms near the end of the day, he hissed under his breath at the burning sensation coming out of him. That can’t be good, he thought. What would make it feel like he was passing acid or fire down there? He looked down at his dick, eyes widening a little as he saw how inflamed his urethra looked. Khaled let out a mortified little squeak. What’s wrong with my penis?

Should I tell Master? Telling his master that he suspected he’d caught something would only lead to probing questions about Khaled’s sex life, even though he wasn’t the one who had visited every whorehouse within the tristate area. Probing questions about his sex life would mean admitting that he was sleeping with Julio, and admitting that he was sleeping with Julio would only fuel his master’s possessive side and make things far worse for him. Khaled could imagine no situation in which he would come out unscathed if he told Thomas about it. So, he decided not to tell him.

He didn’t have to endure his secret for long though, because as soon as he came back into his master’s office, he could sense the energy had changed. 

“Is there something wrong, Boss?” Khaled asked nervously.

“I have just received information from our foot soldiers and informants that the motorcycle that my would-be assassin rode when he got away came from Alvarez Auto and Motorcycles, a known front of Juicio Divino,” Thomas gritted out.

Khaled’s jaw dropped as his mind slowly put together the pieces that he had in his hands all along. Of course, it was Julio, how could I be so blind?! he thought. Just over a year ago, Khaled himself approached the scrapyard assassin asking him to teach him how to kill, and had been crawling back to him in various states of distress ever since. Julio was one of two people on earth who knew how badly Thomas actually treated him, and, combined with his overprotective tendencies, Khaled mentally beat himself up for not suspecting his boyfriend sooner. 

His master’s stormy gray eyes narrowed at Khaled in a piercing glare as he pushed his tablet across the desk. “Incidentally, you have been visiting Alvarez Auto pretty frequently over the past year, haven’t you?”

Khaled’s stomach twisted in dread as he leaned in closer to read it. There, opened on his slave tracking app, was a map with pins of most-frequently visited locations he had been tracked to, and there was a damning bright red pin at the address of Julio’s garage. His mouth went dry as he opened and closed it in shock, trying to collect the right words to say as the opportunity to beg for mercy slipped through his fingers like sand. “I- Master, I- it’s not what you think-”

The older man disdainfully held up a hand, a nonverbal cue that he didn’t want to hear it. Khaled shrank in on himself. “How did you even pay for a hit against me, huh?” the boss asked. “I know you haven’t made that much money since I’ve started paying you! How could you afford to put out a hit?” His voice lowered to a growl. “Did you bend over for that cholo son of a bitch? Did you let him fuck you like I fuck you? Is that why you’ve got an infection –don’t deny it, Khaled, it hurt when I pissed this morning!”

The world seemed to stop as the air quickly left Khaled’s lungs. Wait, what? He was being accused of conspiring against his master, then of being a whore within the same breath? And to make matters worse, he somehow gave his owner an STD before he realized he had one himself? His breaths came out shallow as his body began trembling in fear. What does this mean for me? What’s going to happen to me? He nearly passed out as his imagination went wild with how severe his punishment would be. “Master, please, I had no idea-”

“Shut up!”

Khaled ceased his begging instantly, a nauseous wave of dread coiling in his stomach as he waited for his master to dole out his sentence. “You will never see anybody besides me again,” his master said, glowering at him in contempt as Khaled’s eyes widened in horror. He got up from his chair and circled around Khaled, with a familiar black shock collar and a length of chain in hand. “I’ll give you a chance to say your goodbyes before we leave.”

Khaled regained enough of his senses to shake his head and back away from the man approaching him. “But, Master, I didn’t-”

The world snapped to the right in a stinging blow as Thomas backhanded him. Khaled rubbed his sore cheek and winced in pain. “You’re lucky I don’t outright kill you, though I still might, if you keep whining like that!” he yelled. Khaled turned silent and sullen, still cradling his sore cheek as the collar tightened like a noose around his throat. “Now, come on, let’s make your final goodbyes count.” His master attached the chain leash to a notch in the shock collar and pulled Khaled towards the exit.

-

Khaled was pulled through the whole office and out to the guard shack like that, stopping periodically as his master made him explain what was going on and why he was leaving to everyone they met. Khaled’s voice was shaking like a leaf the first stop they made; by the time they made it to the guard shack, he was unable to utter anything intelligible past his tears. Nico’s jaw dropped as Thomas explained what had happened and why Khaled was never going to see him again.

“But, he didn’t do it, sir!” he objected, pushing himself out of his desk chair and standing up to face him. “He had no part in it! I can prove it, just listen to me!”

As much as Khaled wanted to interrogate that ‘I can prove it’ claim just a little more, Tom ignored him. He pulled the leash taut and yanked Khaled away. Khaled frantically pulled at the collar around his neck, emitting choked gasps as he stumbled along and struggled to keep up.

They ended up back at the car, where Tom unclipped his leash and pushed the button on the key fob to unlock the trunk of the car. Khaled was shoved up roughly against the side of the car as his hands were gathered behind his back and bound tightly by a soft and silky material, most likely a necktie. “Master, please, please, hear me out –I didn’t put a hit on you, I swear!” he once again tried to explain through a mess of snot and tears. “I don’t want to kill you, why would I want to kill you? Please –listen to me! I don’t want to kill you; I swear I didn’t know!” Thomas dragged him to the back of the car, where he stared down at him in cold fury. He took out a dark cloth from his pocket and unfolded it. Khaled preemptively opened his mouth to receive it, but then the man tied the cloth around his eyes to blind him. He quietly shut his mouth as the blindfold was tied tight enough to catch his hair. He heard the trunk of the car quietly whoosh open before he was picked up and shoved inside. The door of the trunk slammed shut, sealing him in an extra layer of darkness.

The ride seemed to stretch on forever as Khaled shivered in the darkness. It was still far too cold to be riding back there without anything to keep him warm. Throughout the darkness he begged, then screamed, then cried, then sniffled, knowing damn well his master couldn’t hear him.

Time seemed to work differently in the dark, cramped confines of a car trunk. Khaled was unsure of how much time had passed since he was shoved in the trunk, but he was more than concerned that they seemed to keep driving far longer than it usually took to get back to the apartments. He’s never going to forgive me, he realized as he rested his head onto the floor of the trunk. He really thinks I planned to kill him, and now he’s going to take me out into the woods and kill me, or do something so horrific it will make me wish I had died. A fresh round of tears soaked into his blindfold as Khaled whimpered pathetically. I don’t want to die, not like this.

Goddamnit, Julio, you tried to be the hero, and now I’m gonna end up dead in a ditch somewhere, Khaled cursed in his head.

The car rolling to a stop and faint click that preceded the trunk unlocking made Khaled’s heartrate speed up. A new wave of anxiety hit him much like the blast of midwinter air when the trunk was opened and he was pulled out. He didn’t feel concrete underneath his shoes, and the fresh icy chill of the air around him told him they weren’t in the parking garage. We really are in the woods somewhere, he thought, his hopes sinking like lead as his master’s hand gripped his elbow and steered him along to an unknown destination. He’s really driven me out to the woods somewhere to kill me. Khaled stumbled as his foot hit an unseen obstruction, but his master dragged him along regardless. This is it. I’m gonna die. His breaths started picking up, heart racing as that last thought worked him up into another nervous state. His owner stopped and threw him forward onto the ground. Khaled landed face first into a cold and wet patch of snow, judging on how it felt when it absorbed his impact. “Get up and kneel.” Khaled’s breaths stopped in his throat. There was no room in his master’s frigid tone for argument. He pushed himself up the best he could with his hands bound behind his back, shivering not just from the cold as he assumed a kneeling position.

A cold, metallic object pressed against the back of the young man’s skull. “If you’ve got anything to say, say it now,” his master’s voice said behind him. A wet and warm spot began to soak his pants in the front. Khaled’s mind went blank. He was so scared he nearly forgot his owner had asked for his last words. He caught his trembling lip between his teeth before shaking his head. Whatever he could say for his last words would go unheeded anyway, lost in the winter’s chill and the indifferent New England woods. He hung his head in resignation, ready for the explosive pain followed by sudden oblivion and nothingness, or whatever it was that lie ahead.

He had at least hoped he would see his father’s face before the end. But the only image his shielded eyes could conjure up before he died was a pair of sharp, steel gray eyes.

Click.

Nothing happened.

The gun lowered, and heavy footsteps crunched in the snow as his would-be executioner walked around to the front of him.

Khaled was still alive. Somehow, he was still alive. There was a light brush of hands reaching behind his head before the blindfold fell away, revealing a familiar face staring down at him with those same steel gray eyes. Khaled’s breath shimmered in the cold moonlit night. He was alive. He wasn’t going to die. He was alive.

All the fear and tension left his body like his vaporous breath in the night as he slumped forward, crying tears of relief into his master’s shoulder as he caught him. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you,” he sobbed between each breath.

“Shhh, shhh, it’s alright, it’s alright,” Thomas soothed as he reached behind Khaled to untie his hands. “I believe you for now, it’s alright.” As soon as his hands were free, Khaled wrapped them around the older man’s neck, hugging him close as he bawled into his shoulder. “I thought about it, but there is no way I can definitively prove it was you.” A muscular pair of arms wrapped around him and held him close, drawing him into the warmth. “And besides, my favorite fuck toy, plotting to kill me?” His master laughed. “No way you’re smart enough for that! I didn’t buy you for your brains, you know!”

“Yes, yes, I’m stupid, I am so fucking stupid, thank you!” Khaled cried. He nuzzled his cold wet face into Tom’s warm neck and peppered the man’s jawline with kisses, murmuring his gratitude between every kiss. He was alive, he didn’t die, and that was the only thing that mattered in that moment.

“Let’s go home,” Thomas said, hoisting Khaled onto his feet. “The takeout I bought is getting cold, and you need a change of pants.”

He led the young man through the woods back to side of the road where he had parked his car. “I was completely serious about you never seeing anybody else again, by the way,” he reminded him as he opened the passenger side door. Khaled slid gratefully inside, happy to be in the heated part of the car. “You are relieved of your duties to the organization from now on,” Tom continued as he joined him on the driver’s side, “You are demoted to domestic service. You will stay at home and keep the penthouse spotless, welcoming me to it every evening with warm food and your warmer body. You will stay in the apartment and not leave for anything unless it is with me or a trusted associate. You will never see anybody again. That’ll keep you from conspiring to kill me, or from spreading your legs for anyone else but me, and only I will decide when it’s time to bring you back out again.” He pushed the button and started up the vehicle, setting the heaters to full blast.

Khaled nodded. What did he care about being stuck at home and never seeing anybody again? He was alive, and right now, as he held his freezing fingers close to the vents, that was all that mattered.

Le Tag List: @kabie-whump @rainydaywhump @whumped-by-glitter @skittles-the-whumpee @generic-whumperz @bamber344 @there-will-always-be-blood @morning-star-whump @a-la-whump @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @defire

[scarfacemarston]

Reader Comes Out as Ace to Bucky

(Anddddd Bucky kind of comes out as ace, too? I Hc him as Demisexual, which is on the ace spectrum, but feel free to hc differently!) Here are more ace headcanons here! Sam introduced the two of you, and you struck up a slow friendship. He wasn’t the easiest man to get to know, but you knew there was more to him than he let on. Soon, that trust and friendship turned into something more, and now, you were quite pleased to say that James Buchanan Barnes was your partner.

The day had come for you to explain your ace identity. The subject would come up at some point, but you decided to get it over with.

"The Talk" with Bucky went better than you ever hoped for. Would a man like Bucky Barnes be able to truly understand you, your identity, and your needs? It turned out he could in a lot of ways. 

At first, Bucky appeared hurt - but not for the reason you thought. He thought you heard the rumors about him before the war and was worried you'd think he was only interested in sex.

"I may have been a bit of a flirt and a ladies' man, but I wasn't sleeping with every person I saw, you know. People had this expectation and view that I'm out to have sex with everything that moves. I wasn't. I took gals out." Bucky paused,

"...And a few men , we made out or necked. A few I slept with , but I was always clear in what my expectations were. I never promised to be someone's best guy if I didn't mean it. I wasn't a playboy like Stark," Bucky huffed.

"I'm sorry, it's somethin' from the old days that used to bother me, and I guess it still does. It's not who I was then and it's not how I am now. Even if I did sleep around, why does that matter? I'm sorry. This is about you, I suppose I just wanted to say that I'm not some sex fiend that wants you for your body. I want you for you. I didn't grow to trust a body, I grew to trust a person."

You couldn't help but embrace him, which he firmly returned. You could tell something else was on his mind. You squeezed him in reassurance. He sighed.

"And now, well, now it's not something I want. All these hook up apps, that seems to be the only way to meet people and it just doesn't feel right. I mean, they're strangers! If someone wants to do that, that's their business and more power to them, but for me? I can't do it. I just can't. I have too many trust issues and any time I've thought of sex, there's no spark. I don't feel anything."

Bucky paused once again.

"Maybe I'm just like you? Or at least a little bit?" Bucky asked.

"You can be whatever and whoever you want, Bucky. That's the beauty of today. You don't have to hide anymore no matter the gender of who you love or how you love them. But I have to say, two ace people finding each other, imagine that. I can't think of a better relationship", you sighed, relieved. Bucky laughed softly.

"I suppose that does take some pressure off of me. It makes me feel ��.different, but I suppose I am pretty different. I'm a 100 year old former assassin, for God's sake."

"I've always felt different, too. I always felt I was broken, or messed up or like I was too much of a prude. Everytime I told someone, they left me. It's been hard to let people in. I was so anxious to tell you. I'm so lucky to have you in my life, I didn't want to risk losing you, but I have to be myself, too." You explained. Bucky held you close.

"Of course. I wouldn't expect anything else. It's hell to live a lie. I think Steve was similar to you in a lot of ways when it comes to this sort of thing. I supported him and I sure am going to support you, too. But you're not messed up, or broken. To hell with those who made you feel that way. I'm sorry. However, you have me now, for what that's worth, Y/N." Bucky muttered.

You kissed his cheek before smiling warmly.

"Always". You whispered.

[space-writes]

hello (again) writeblr! i decided to make a new intro that has all my current wips on it, since i have way more than when i first started out on here.

about me

I go by Space, my pronouns are they/he, and I’m in my third decade of existence, which is absolutely wild. I’ve been writing for most of it, so I like to think I’m pretty decent

I write mostly fantasy and erotica (sometimes at the same time), both original and fanfiction, and all of it's queer

You can find my work on my AO3 here, crossposted to my neocities here, and under my snippets tag

I’m open to tag and ask games, and my inbox is currently open to anything as well. I don’t always reply the fastest, but I’ll get to it eventually! (I don’t take part in chain asks, so please don’t send me them)

I use obsidian.md for all my writing, and it’s my favourite notes app ever, so I also talk about that occasionally. The tag for it is here, and I’m hoping to write some more showcases/tutorials this year!

my main goal is to actually finish some damn books and also to inflict my OC brainrot upon people. so far the second one is the only thing that’s actually happened, but i live in hope

My current wips are Chronicles of Valloroth (Renegade Prince being book one), Obedience, Obsession, and claws—summaries and links for all four are under the cut!

this is my writing sideblog, you can find my main @thespacelizard, and i follow/like from there

tag directory is here

current wips

Chronicles of Valloroth

⚔ Genre: Fantasy Adventure

⚔ Features: Queer cast, found family, A Whole Entire Dragon, magical mishaps, The Mere Concept of Doing The Right Thing, a grumpy assassin, a sparkly mercenary, knock-off tieflings, a handsome prince (he’s gay), more banter than your average dungeons and dragons campaign

⚔ Status: Book One: First draft completed, re-drafting in-progress || Books Two & Three: outlined

⚔ One Sentence Summary (Book One): A runaway prince seeks freedom in a new world and must find a way to convince a rag-tag group to defeat an ancient dragon, all whilst he is being hunted by a band of mercenaries and an infamous assassin.

⚔ Series Tag: valloroth blogging

claws

🩸 Genre: Queer Horror

🩸 Features: teacher/student relationship (university edition), toxic romance, gender fuckery, broken identity, demonology, murder, self-harm, obsession, stalking, infidelity, a lot of blood, pact-based magic system, corruption, jealousy, eldritch entities, love is a wound, body horror, attempted suicide, and a little bit of arachnophilia

🩸 Status: First draft complete!

🩸 One Sentence Summary: A young student’s obsession with his demonology teacher sparks a twisted romance that draws him to the limits of his humanity—and into the web of an eldritch horror.

🩸 Series Tag: wip: claws

Obedience

💜 Genre: Erotic Romance, D&D fanfiction (original characters, Forgotten Realms setting & loose 5E ruleset)

💜 Features: a variety of BDSM scenarios, one closed off wizard dom, one enthusiastic nerdy sub, weird uses for dnd spells, a painful amount of pining, somehow; worldbuilding, emotional slow burn, as much self indulgence as I can possibly fit in a fanfic series

💜 Status: Arcs 1-3 are complete (read on AO3 here, or my neocities here). The first book of Arc 4, The Perils of Wanting is currently being posted bi-monthly here. The second book of Arc 4, A Question of Trust, is on its second draft.

💜 One Sentence Summary: A D/s M/M series featuring two wizard boys, the kinky magic they get up to, and the feelings they definitely don’t have for each other.

💜 Series Tag: obedience fic blogging (it began on my main, so the tag there has more snippets)

Obsession

🕷 Genre: War of the Spider Queen/Forgotten Realms fanfiction, also Erotica, Horror and a smidge of Dark Romance

🕷 Features: OC/canon, a nightmare transmasc wizard boy, obsession, stalking, jealousy, violent impulses, dubious consent, possessiveness, evil gender dysphoria, incest, gore, the inherent horror of Having a Body, and occasionally actual school things happening at Sorcere

🕷 Status: Ongoing serial, which you can read on AO3 here, or my neocities here

🕷 One Sentence Summary: Pharaun Mizzrym is everything to Vizaeth Thaezyr. He’ll do anything for him—even if Pharaun doesn’t know it yet.

🕷 Series Tag: obsession fic blogging (it also began on my main, so check the tag there for additional content!)

[anonymouzee]

AMARANTHINE - Dr. STONE

sum☆: "ᵉˡᵉᵍᵃⁿᵗ! "𝙰𝙼𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙽𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙴 (adj.) undying, immortal, eternally beautifulIn which Stanley Snyder, Xeno Houston Wingfield, and (Y/N) Ambrose were trapped in an unexpected stone world that had been petrified 3,700 years before. However, they were 'infiltrated' by some foreign brats all of a sudden.Of course, they don't give up without a fight, do they?

warnings:. all characters are 18+!!! violence. language. FICTION!! don't like it? scroll away!! first ever post on this app. english is not my first language, so ugh.(Dr. Stone x Reader)(Dr. STONE : New America City Arc) MANGA SPOILER

(CHAPTER 6) Z=154: Spy vs. Spy

"we'll find the enemy science leader...

"...and capture him!!"

"<...and to assassinate him!!>"

Senku and Dr. Xeno exclaimed in unison, while the troops of the enemy kingdom and the other members of the kingdom of science were now exploring the forest to complete their respective missions.

The rhythmic crunch of leaves underfoot was the only sound breaking the serene tranquility of the forest. Stanley and (Y/n) were deep in thought, their minds racing with the complexities of their mission. Suddenly, a faint rustling sound caught their attention. They turned to see a young woman dressed in a striped dress, her footsteps trailing behind them.

"<So, can we trust this Gen guy?." she asked, her voice carrying a hint of skepticism.

(Y/n) glanced at Stanley, her eyes seeking his opinion. "<Luna,>" she began, addressing the woman, "<Xeno entrusted you with infiltrating the enemy's ship. Do you think you can handle it?>"

Luna nodded, her expression a mixture of determination and nervousness. "<Of course, I can,>" she replied, her voice a bit shaky. Even after all these years, she still found it difficult to converse with (Y/n) without feeling a sense of anxiety and intimidation. Despite her fear, Luna admired (Y/n) deeply, seeing her as a role model.

"<I wish you luck then,>" (Y/n) said, turning her attention to their weapons. As she prepared for the mission, Stanley responded to Luna's question about Gen.

"<Trust?>" he scoffed. "<Anyone who trusts an enemy who just double-crossed his own people needs an appointment with a head doctor.>"

"<We'll pump him for intel, but keep him at arm's length otherwise,>" Stanley continued. "<Odds are he's a spy.>"

Luna agreed, her voice a bit more confident this time. "<Right, sure. I mean, duh. Obviously! I realized that too. That was me testing you, Stanley. I didn't think you'd get careless, but I had to be sure!>"

In the distance, chaos began to unfold. (Y/n) climbed a towering tree, finding the perfect vantage point to observe the enemy's base. She brought out her binocular telescope and began scanning the area.

Meanwhile, below, Carlos and Max were expressing their loyalty to Luna. "<No way, Miss Luna! I'll carry every last one if I have to!>" Carlos exclaimed, his voice filled with determination. Max echoed his sentiment, eager to impress Luna with his bravery.

"<What? Now you're up for the job? Why don't you take a nap while I carry the cargo?>" Carlos retorted, his competitive spirit ignited. Max, eager to impress Luna, joined the fray, and soon the two were engaged in a heated argument.

"<You're not carrying a thing, Luna,>" Stanley's voice cut through the bickering. He lit a cigarette, a calm demeanor contrasting with the chaos below. "<And that's non-negotiable. Not a thing. That heavy stuff could leave marks on your body, and you've got a job to do.>"

Just then, (Y/n) shouted from above, her voice echoing through the trees. "<You four there, quit talking and come up here!>"

Stanley, Luna, Carlos, and Max scrambled up the tree to join her. As they reached the top, Carlos's eyes widened in astonishment as he beheld the massive enemy ship.

"<So that's the enemy ship?>" he asked nervously.

"<KAHHH! IT'S HUGE!!>" Max exclaimed, his voice filled with awe.

"<Wow, this other science-pro isn't half-bad,>" Luna said, her admiration growing. "<Of course, he's nothing compared to Xeno!>"

(Y/n) handed Stanley her binoculars, allowing him to get a closer look at the ship. "<I think this is a perfect spot,>" she said, as Stanley taking the binoculars from her hands then kissing them.

"<So, we should begin measuring and not waste time,>" (Y/n) continued, pulling out thermometers and weather vanes and handing them to Stanley. Stanley picked up the weather vane and lifted it into the air, placing it on the top of a tree branch to begin taking measurements.

"<Do these... measure temperature and humidity?>" Luna asked, holding her own thermometer.

"<They're made by Doc Xeno, who tends to be overly helpful,>" Stanley replied. "<Despite my insistence I could figure out that stuff using my senses. Well, extra data'll only help with accuracy, I guess.>"

"<And is that a weathervane?>" Carlos asked, his curiosity piqued.

"<Kah kah kah! Why take all these readings? You playing weather reporter?>" Max chimed in.

(Y/n) answered their questions, her voice calm and authoritative. "<It all affects bullet velocity.>" The other three were taken aback by her explanation, realizing that Stanley was carefully tracking the environmental conditions to ensure the perfect shot.

"<No way... from this distance?>" Luna looked at Stanley with a mixture of awe and apprehension.

"<I'll snipe the enemy science leader... with a rifle made by Xeno's science,>" Stanley replied, his voice filled with determination. He positioned himself on his stomach, finding a clear view of the ship through his scope.

"<We've got a glimpse of the area via spy plane. This is the optimal firing position,>" he said, remaining still.

"<We... we're gonna kill them...?>" Luna looked up at Stanley and (Y/n), her eyes wide with uncertainty.

"<Just their science leader,>" (Y/n) replied, preparing her own gun and reloading it.

"<Isn't that kinda awful?>" Luna asked, her voice trembling slightly.

Stanley's glare was immediate, silencing Luna's question. "<Just kidding! Just making sure that those two wimps don't try to chicken out of this! That's part of my job!>" Luna exclaimed, her panic evident as she averted her gaze from Stanley's intense stare.

"<That's our Miss Luna, cool as a cucumber!>" Max and Carlos exclaimed, their admiration for Luna growing.

"<I've got goosebumps!>" Max added, his voice filled with excitement.

"<So what's the job of mine you two mentioned before? And why am I wearing this striped outfit...?>" Luna asked, her curiosity piqued.

"<Each stripe is five inches,>" Stanley answered.

"<You'll be our yard stick, Luna,>" (Y/n) finished.

"<By matching up with my crosshairs, I can calculate the distance to the target,>" Stanley added.

"<You're about as young as they are, Luna. So they're less likely to see you as a threat. Board their ship, and find Dr. Taiju, their science leader,>" Stanley instructed.

"<(N/n), help Luna get close to the ship, will you?>" Stanley requested (Y/n), who nodded and began to descend from the tree.

"<No need to ask twice, captain~ Come on now, Luna,>" (Y/n) purred, motioning for Luna to follow her.

"<Ri-right!>" Luna replied, her voice a bit shaky. With an awkward silence, (Y/n) guided Luna towards the lair near the ship.

"<luna, dear>" (Y/n) called out, her voice carrying a sense of urgency.

"<Yes...?>" Luna responded quietly, her attention drawn to (Y/n).

"<Xeno and Stanley may not know this, but I have a feeling that Dr. Taiju is not the science leader...>" (Y/n) revealed, her voice filled with a hint of intrigue. Randomly telling Luna her suspicioun despite not being close with the younger woman.

"<Huh? How so?>" Luna asked, her curiosity piqued.

"<Just a feeling. Anyway, word of advice, trust your instincts,>" (Y/n) replied.

"<Huh... right...>" Luna nodded, her mind racing.

The two came to a stop at their intended spot.

"<I suppose here is fine. Good luck,>" (Y/n) said, bidding Luna farewell.

Luna watched (Y/n) walk away, her heart filled with admiration. She was truly her role model. But then, remembering her mission, she immediately began to mess herself up to look as if she had been harassed or hurt.

'I'm Luna, the smoothest operator! Luna, the capable gal!!' Luna exclaimed in her head as she emerged from her hiding spot, tears in her eyes and her appearance disheveled. How could anyone not help a poor girl in such a state?

Ryusui and Senku noticed Luna's crawling figure on the ship's ladder.

From afar, Stanley observed the scene with interest.

'Sailing out to sea could've saved them, but they're staying put because... they're reluctant to abandon an ally. Lucky these kiddies are so naïve. And softies like that... won't ignore a girl crying for help,' Stanley thought to himself.

Meanwhile, (Y/n) decided to return to the factory, knowing that Stanley and the others could handle the mission properly. She decided to accompany Xeno, who was 'tormenting' Gen.

As (Y/n) walked away, she glanced back at Luna, carrying out her mission.

'You sent a spy into our ranks? Well, here's our counter-op. Two can play at this game,' she thought as she continued to walk away.

"Help me please! I'm desperate to run away from that horrid Dr. Xeno and his kingdom!!" Luna cried out desperately, her voice filled with emotion as she pleaded for help from the crew of the Perseus.

Mozu perked up, his attention drawn to Luna's appearance.

"Hm? She's cute," Mozu mused, his eyes lingering on Luna. However, his comment was quickly met with disapproval from Kirisame.

"Not the time nor place, Mozu," Kirisame admonished, her voice stern.

Senku stepped closer to Luna, his presence drawing Ryusui's attention. Ryusui couldn't help but smirk, his mind racing with possibilities.

'Hmph. Tough call here,' Ryusui thought, his suspicion of Luna growing. 'Of course, I want to help her... but we can't take her at face value.'

Luna looked up as she heard Senku's footsteps approaching.

"Are you hurt, miss? Have no fear, you're safe now! Please, come onto our ship," Senku offered, his words laced with charm. Luna couldn't help but blush at his kind demeanor.

"Th-thanks..." Luna replied, her voice a bit shaky.

"Let's get you some first-aid below deck!" Taiju said, offering to help Luna. Kirisame took Luna into her arms, carrying her towards the ship to tend to her wounds.

"Turning on the charm, huh?" Yuzuriha sweatdropped, amused by Senku's actions.

"Really, Senku...?" Kinro echoed, his expression a mix of surprise and amusement.

Meanwhile, at Tsukasa's group, they were discussing their strategy.

"We only have a general idea of where Chrome, Kohaku, and Gen went," Suika said.

"Right, we need intel," Ukyo added.

"Capturing their science leader will allow us to seize the initiative. Yes... any information about the enemy would be helpful at this point," Tsukasa concluded.

Back on the Perseus, Luna internally decided to fulfill her mission while most of the crew remained suspicious of her.

"We're really letting some suspicious girl board the ship?" Nikki asked warily.

"Who cares? She's cute," Mozu replied, his admiration for Luna unabated.

"Senku's a man, if you know what I mean! And maybe doe-eyed blondes push all the right buttons for him!" Yo exclaimed, teasing Senku.

"Naw, this isn't what it seems..." Yuzuriha countered.

Senku smirked mischievously. "Ku ku ku... we'll extract all the info we can outta this girl and send a coded message to Tsukasa and the special forces." He added with a devilish grin, "It's spy versus spy! Black-hearted schemers. Trying to outfox each other! I told'ya it wasn't what it seemed!"

At the same time, (Y/n) returned to the factory, eager to report on the ongoing mission.

"<Ah dear, you came back earlier than I expected,>" Xeno said, noticing (Y/n)'s arrival. He snatched her hand, pulling her closer to him and grabbing her waist delicately.

Gen stared warily at the two, his eyes darting between them as they swayed around the room, creating a peaceful yet suffocating aura. For him, it was a suffocating moment, but for the two, it was a peaceful one.

(Y/n) noticed Gen's stare, her eyes meeting his. She held Xeno's hand and her other hand on his right shoulder, returning the stare with a cold look.

"<Yes, Luna successfully infiltrated the ship, and at this moment she's looking for the science leader. But I have a feeling... that their science leader, Dr. Taiju, is only a decoy,>" (Y/n) said, her voice filled with conviction. Gen's eyes widened slightly at her statement, but he managed to suppress his reaction.

"<Oh~ is that so? Mind telling me more, dear?>" Xeno asked, his eyes sparkling with interest.

"<Well, to begin with, I doubt that our foreign guest, Mr. Gen, would have promptly told us his previous science leader's name,>" (Y/n) continued. "<As a result, I thought he might be using a fake name or another name as a cover-up to avoid being caught. Second, he claimed to be a magician, is that correct? According to what I've known, magicians can use psychological tricks to hide their true identities. I'm not sure, but I have a feeling that Mr. Gen might also be what is known as a 'mentalist,'>" (Y/n) concluded.

As (Y/n) spoke, Gen couldn't help but look at her in horror. This woman is really dangerous, he thought. But he managed to maintain his composure, looking at (Y/n) as if he were unaware of her accusation.

"<We-well, how can you say that, Miss (Y/n)? I'm sure it's just a suspicion, right? Ye-yes, I'm a magician, but I'm an inexperienced one, you see... I-I mean look at me, I'm weak and helpless..., and plus, you don't have concrete evidence...? R-right?>" Gen defended himself, his voice trembling slightly as he tried to portray himself as a vulnerable and naïve person.

"<Hmm... I suppose you're right about that. I apologize for my false accusation,>" (Y/n) said, her voice filled with sincerity. However, her true intention was to expose him to Xeno, who was now deep in thought about her earlier statement.

"<Oh, it's alright, Miss (Y/n)...>" Gen responded, his nervous smile masking his relief. He sweatdropped, still shaken by her revelation.

"<Hmm... I suppose you're right, dear, but first, let Stan and the others finish their mission so we can discuss this later. I'm sure Stan will like to hear your thoughts,>" Xeno said, kissing (Y/n)'s hand and releasing her from his embrace.

"<I guess...>" (Y/n) replied, her expression neutral.

Unbeknownst to the two, Gen continued to stare at the group in the distance, his mind racing. 'Crap..., it seems this mission is more difficult than I expected, especially with this very observant lady on their side. She might expose me at any moment! Miss (Y/n) a woman you are!' Gen shuddered at the thought.

[weirdlyomniscient]

The Art of Being Mediocre - pt 1

This is the provisional title of my Naruto AU, explained slightly in my masterpost here. If you ever get a better idea, feel free! I will try to make everything organised, but I don't yet have this app under control, really, so it's gonna take a while. (😭)

The plot of the AU starts at the end of the wave mission. Kakashi has a mental breakdown. How could he? His team almost died, and he was the sensei! He would have been the one responsible if they had! Nothing is ok anymore. He needs to do something

He can't. He's terrible at this. Someone else has to! He has to find new teachers for his kids...

(No worries, he will still be their favourite sensei! He's just in a bit of an emotional sinkhole right now...)

For the beginning of this AU, I'm going to post the beginning of the story I will never finish:

Kakashi pov.

They could've died.

They could've died, and it would’ve been because of him. They would have, had they been just a little bit slower, a little bit weaker. Had he been a second slower. Weaker.

They would've died. He wouldn’t have been able to protect them. He would’ve failed them, failed everyone. Failed himself. Like Rin, Obito, Minato-sensei, Kushina-san. And it would've been his fault: Kakashi's. Like it always had been, like it always would be.

It was his fault. Three children had almost died because of him. His children. His kids. Because he couldn't train them. Because he didn't know how. Because he'd been stupid. So, so stupid. How could he ever have been stupid enough to accept the responsibility for them? How could he be stupid enough to think he’d trained them well? Stupid enough to- to-

He should've known better. History had almost repeated itself and it was at his hands. His bloodied, red hands. The ones that had killed Rin. All but killed Obito.  

He'd listened to Gai's pleas of leaving Anbu and the mask behind. He shouldn't have. It was the only thing he could do for the village. The only thing he was worthy for, the only thing he could be trusted with. Not the lives of children. Not even their education, which he had failed as well.

How could he not have noticed Naruto’s attention for detail in action? Sakura being able to keep a cool head in every situation? Sasuke’s will to protect his teammates?

He was especially not capable of keeping these children safe. He had disappointed Minato-sensei and Kushina-san. His father. Mikoto. Sakura's parents, even though he didn't know them. He should; he should know them, should’ve met them, should’ve got to know his kids.

He was poison. Everything he touched wilted and withered away. Everyone he loved died. It was his fault, his curse. It had to be. Why did he think it would be different this time? Why did he hope it would be easy?

He shouldn't have hoped. He shouldn't have felt in the first place.

Feelings. They ate you from the inside out. They'd done it over and over again. It wouldn't be the last time either. Loved ones were just the ones that break you. When they inevitably leave. Die. Because of him. Because he was poison.

He was a murderer. An assassin. A monster. How had the Third put him in charge of Genin? Especially these Genin. How could anyone have accepted that? How could no one have questioned it? Why? Why?

Why again?

It was hard to breathe. Hard to see. Hard to do anything, really.

He was panting, making the choking noises of swallowed sobs.

I’m sorry, Sensei. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m-

He clutched his side, that had been pierced by Zabuza’s sword. He did not wince, he never winced. A wince could be a death sentence. A lot could be a death sentence, in the wrong situation. But it still hurt.

A lot.

He squeezed his eyes shut. He hadn’t cried in a long time. A very long time. Since his father had died when he’d been four, to be exact. But now, a single tear stained his cheek, as he muffled sobs and cries of despair behind his mask.

He sunk to the floor and the back of his head hit the wall with a thump.

I’m sorry, Kushina. I’m sorry, Mikoto. I’m sorry, sorry, sorry, SORRY.

Sorrow. Love. Grief. They were useless. They made him weak. They made him cry. They made him break.

Over and over again they took the little pieces of his heart that had survived and been carefully kept together by the people around him and broke them all over again. Squashed them like flies until he felt like crawling into a hole and dying. Slowly. Painfully. With a stab wound to his side and a heart in pieces.

A whine escaped his throat and he shut his mouth with his hands, preventing any other sounds of escaping it.

He could feel, right behind him, just on the other side of the wooden wall of Tazuna’s house, three little hearts beating. They weren’t asleep. None of them were. They were all wide awake and terrified of what just happened, their heartbeats pounding rhythms thrumming in their frail little bodies.

But they were there. The bottomless pit of Chakra that was Naruto, the crackling wildfire that was Sasuke and the steady candleflame that was Sakura. They were there and alive and terrified and traumatised and it was his fault. He reached for them with his own Chakra and stopped just short of touching theirs. Too scared to show he cared. Too scared to feel.

Weak.

They were alive, but it had been so close. So, so close. Too close.

He wasn’t a teacher. He should never have been put in charge of them. Again, his head hit the wall with a thump. He bit down on his hand and resisted the urge to bang his head against the wall. Repeatedly. Hard. His mask felt embarassingly moist, his heart squeezing tellingly.

He wasn’t a teacher. It wasn’t in his blood. He recognized his old self in Sasuke, but apart from that they were completely different from him. How should he understand them? How they felt? If he didn’t even understand how he himself felt?

He wasn’t worthy of teaching Minato-sensei’s son. Mikoto-san’s son. Not even the little civilian girl he was worthy of.

It was his duty. But he couldn’t do it. He wasn’t worthy, he wasn’t good enough, he was never good enough. They always died in the end. Because of him.

He couldn’t let them die because of duty. He couldn’t kill them because of duty. Poison them, let them despair. Wither away. Like him, with his shattered black little heart and red, bloodied hands. Another tear dropped to the ground through his drenched mask. He bit down harder and gasped for air at the same time.

Screw duty. Their little lives, their little beating hearts, their glowing and lively – albeit terrified – Chakras behind him were worth so much more. So much more than him. Than his duty. His loyalty.

Those who break the rules are scum, but those who abandon their friends are worse than scum.

Obito was worth more. Rin, too. Them. All of them. Everyone.

He couldn’t teach them. Because he couldn’t teach. But what he could do, was find them a teacher. Someone that fit. Someone that could do it. Someone less weak, less afraid. Someone who understood them. Saw them for who they were, not just the reborn versions of dead teammates.

When he looked at Naruto he saw Obito, smiling brightly to hide pain. Rin fused with Sakura, so smart and impressionable. And a little despairing boy, hating the world but nothing more than himself.

He breathed in. Deeply. He heard the echoes of a life long-gone; Minato-sensei’s laughter when Obito did something stupid, Rin’s amused scolding, his own sighs, then annoyed, now fond.

He had to... save them.

The children. His children. His team. Protect them, whatever the cost.

His life, if need be.

And it would all be worth it.

(pt 2)