#sleep and assassins

[scavengerssuccotash]

How do Clint and Natasha deal with nightmares?

Ohhh the nightmares! The kinds of nightmares that plague are duo pale in comparison to our own. It’s only natural that their fears would manifest in truly frightening ways.

This will not be a happy read unfortunately. :(

Clint’s nightmares before Loki were a walk in the park. Memories of his foster father and the abuse he dealt jolted him from sleep so many times over the years that he’s had to develop a way to catch sleep wherever he could. Cue the power naps. (Thanks Jeremy!) The aftermath of his Pre-Loki nightmares usually meant a change of sheets since he sweat through them and a quick shower. He always keeps a cup of water by his bed too, getting ripped out from his dreams makes him parched. Once him and Natasha started sleeping together his return back to reality was less of a cinder block to the face and more of a pat on the cheek. Literally. While it’s generally advised to not wake a highly trained assassin in the throes of a nightmare, Natasha’s able to dodge the haymaker and bring him back to the present with a firm and quick, “Clint!”

The after-Loki nightmares are Clint’s own personal hell. His imagination, supplemented no doubt by Loki’s promise to have him kill Natasha “slowly, intimately in every way he knows you fear”, is far too powerful for a slap to the cheek to overcome. They had to get creative as a necessity. Even though she wants to touch him when he cries out she can’t. Of the times she did she ended up on her back and Clint woke with his hands on her. Natasha’s usually able to slip out of his holds, but there’s something about the abject pain in his voice that decimates her and overwhelms her better nature. She has to let it play out, and watch on the other side of the room with her face in her hands until Clint fights out of it on his own. She knows he’s awake by the time he falls out of bed and sobs into his hands.

Eventually, through time, patience and a lot of observation they figure out the triggers that induce these nightmares. It’s usually after a particularly difficult mission, one where he makes a mistake or slips up or the ones where he can’t keep her in his line of sight. After those, and afraid that it can trigger a nightmare they prep him with calming teas, long cuddles sessions and even longer assurances that she’s safe (and more importantly safe with him). They switch the bedding together, all soft sheets and even softer pillows. Calming scented candles are lit and weapons are removed from their bed side drawers. Once he’s asleep Nat waits outside the bedroom for a good thirty minutes, if she doesn’t hear Clint thrashing around it’s safe to say that he won’t be having a nightmare that night. On the good days when he wakes without a nightmare they make very gentle very tender love in the morning hours. It’s painfully tender and breaks Clint’s heard every fucking time. (Yeah, Loki really fucked them up both. I wish this was happier but it’s just not. It’s sad and angsty and it makes me incredibly sad. But they still have each other and that somehow makes it easier to bare)

The aftermath of Natasha’s nightmares is scary at the least and downright terrifying at most. Clint’s woken up more than a few times with her hands around his throat. Clint’s forced to get physical, which he hates because unlike on the mats Nat doesn’t pull her punches when she’s in the throes of her nightmares. She goes for the kill and fights like hell. Gradually though much like what they’ve discovered with Clint’s they find the triggers. Strike Team Delta will only take the child trafficking missions if it’s a last resort, the aftermath just takes too much out of the both of them to be fully operational the day after. They tried the teas, they tried meditations but they aren’t that effective long term. Strangely enough white noise seems to help though they don’t know why. Nat alternates between rain and nature documentary. Natasha’s a crier after, completely soaking her pillow with snot and her eyes are puffy and swollen by the time she’s able to calm down. Before Clint she had no one to talk to so she just bottled it up and let it fester. Now though Clint will force her to talk it through and she’s grateful even if they are both dead tired the next morning. Clint’s always comforting too, all hushed warm tones and hair brushing with the occasional dropped kiss to her forehead. They don’t have sex after but he does shower with her in the morning and help braid her hair.

Sleep doesn’t come easily for either of them, but it gets better with time, patience and most importantly with understanding that their nightmares are just their brains working through the trauma. It will pass with due time and as long as they have one another at the end of it they’d gladly sacrifice their sleep schedule in the meantime.

(Hi, yeah that was sad! But hey don’t worry it gets better I promise, now here’s a tissue. Good. Now blow! Good! See all better!)

[canisalbus]

what if an assassin is sent to hide in machete's home and ambush him. They were expecting the house to be empty, but vasco was there waiting for machete to come back from work.

.

[spacedace]

Nother dp x dc prompt for yall:

Jazz tracks down the League of Assassins to get as much training from them as she can to take out the GIW and her parents. While there she meets Jason post his Lazarus Pit dip.

They get along a little too well for Talia's (and her plans for Jason's) comfort.

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 335

Danny Phantom and… Naruto crossover? Yep. 

Because Uzumakis? Canonically bat shit insane. Will look at Death and laugh. Probably invite them to dinner. Will create things just because they can, with no care for what types of rules of reality they are actively breaking. Will take a look at those rules as suggestions. 

And Uzu? An entire island nation who got slaughtered, who were betrayed. They have Unfinished Business! Things to DO! Projects to FINISH! Descendents to FIND! If they can find a way from this green place! 

And then? There is a child. Like, if someone took the appearance of an Uchiha and gave them the disposition of one of them. He is Lost. Was following a map, that they all wanna grab because oooh they wanna learn how it works and make their Own! Sentient Map! Give! 

But? The child? Mentions that some ghosts can break through the bounds of this reality? Can get back to the land of the living? They just need? To figure out which direction to go in? And anyone knows, you give the Uzumakis even the slightest chance of success, and they will all take hold like a small angry dog. 

It is Chaos. The dead have risen. The entire Uzumaki clan are back- again! Unkillable! Can fly! Can go through walls. Invisible! And that’s just the basics! They are vicious, petty, angry bastards that need no sleep! Will be taking all their stolen stuff back now!

Have formed an alliance with the Uchiha ghosts, who are pissed. It is an unholy thing of explosions and spite. 

[snailtrain]

More Safekeeping fanart 😳

[izzystizzys]

Fox tags along on a smuggling bust one (1) time and subsequently wishes he’d never been decanted.

Well, he’s arrested the perp a lot more than just one time, actually, but that very first tackle into a chokehold and electrocuffs more than sufficed to turn the fates against him - the fates, and Cody, the insufferable twat. They’re not actually even batchmates, the lot of them, and going by numbers Fox was decanted long before them (long as in seconds or minutes, no one actually knows), but Seventeen put them all in a training room together and then stupid kriffing Kote looked him up and down, nodded, and hasn’t stopped calling him vod’ika since.

“Why is one of the Republic’s most wanted criminals asking to speak to you, vod’ika?”, Cody asks, without any preamble, almost making Fox cut the holocall on principle. He would, if General Kenobi wasn’t right there next to the little shit. “And why do I not like his tone?”

Fox has to resist the urge to close his eyes and scream, making do with a deep sigh instead. Force curse the day Cody decided to adopt-nap him, and Wolffe following suit immediately. “Weequay, shifty eyes, stupid fucking pirate bandana?”

Cody’s eyes narrow suspiciously, and Kenobi’s eyebrows raise simultaneously. It’s more than a little creepy.

Fox rolls his eyes so hard he sees stars. “Tell him he can go space himself, unless he wants me to do it for him. And then tell him that if he sends me fuzzy fucking socks again I might just hunt him down and do it anyways.”

Past the slide of the door, Thorn’s unmistakable cackle reaches Fox. And Cody, going by the narrowing of his eyes. “Don’t tell him that, ori’vod, he’s probably into that”, Thorn calls out, gleefully, and Force Fox really should’ve kept this to himself in the first place.

He would’ve, actually, but the constant stream of strange presents into Guard headquarters is hard to miss. It was Alderaanian chocolates, last week, which Fox pawned off on the Shinies. A box from a store with a blacked out label before that, which he launched out the window with burning ears before Thire could get a closer look at it.

“Actually”, Thorn continues, happily, “I don’t think it matters much if you do tell him anything - it’s not like the Commander has been the most graceful courtée, and that hasn’t done anything to discourage our favorite smuggler.”

“Marshall Commander”, Fox hisses, because he’s a pissy bitch, and then, because all professionalism has gone out the window anyways, “This is why Stone is my favourite.”

Thorn’s wounded gasp is lost over Kenobi’s thoughtful hum, and Cody’s patented I’m-going-to-do-something-incredibly-stupid-and-you-can’t-stop-me glare. “That would explain why we have Hondo Ohnaka accosting our troopers about your flavour preferences concerning fruit candies. But the one asking to speak to you is Cad Bane, Marshall Commander.”

The string of curses Fox lets out at that is loud enough to have Mauler stick his head in the com room to ask if everything is alright, and Thorn roll on the floor with howling laughter.

Force curse the day he ever slapped electrocuffs on Hondo Ohnaka, and double-curse the one he threw Cad Bane to the floor with a scissor leg takedown.

[autisticlenaluthor]

thinking about how lena has to be so formal and put together all the time, how she always has to wear her mask. but when she's shown in kara's apartment, she's got her feet on the couch like she lives there too. and when she stays with sam, she sleeps with her arms above her head, exposing all of herself, because she trusts that nobody is going to hurt her there. and god I am unwell about this

[sulfies]

“you took too long” Altaïr says to Desmond the moment his eyes open.

He also will never admit Ezio is awsome to cuddle with.

[feniksido]

For when we rule together, as The Absolute

I guess we never got to do that, huh?

[temeyes]

[OC] "it's not my arms that will fail me but this world takes more strength than it gave me."

[lizardpersonyknow]

I just love the idea that Tim has these completely out of line, nuclear threats that he pulls out on a whim for the most random things, but doesn't give a shit about things that should ACTUALLY call for them. He is just unhinged enough that everyone reacts with visceral fear because he Would Do It.

Deathstroke tries to kill him/a criminal he's been hunting for months? That's annoying, but I'll just beat him up

Deathstroke (out of costume) takes the last box of his favourite pasta shape on the shelf in a shop? Give Me The Pasta Or I Will Tell Bruce That You Fucked Dick.

[tealvenetianmask]

I just took a very sweaty two hour drive through the mountains with Apology Tour on my mind. It wasn't just me being dramatic (though I felt it)- I have a friend's wedding to go to and now I have motion sickness from the ups and downs. I cried a little-- you know- poor music choices for the road.

I haven't read anyone else's takes yet, so I don't know if anyone's said this, but I just want to heap some empathy on my favorite boy, Blitz, who definitely needs it.

For the entire episode, Blitz is going it alone, with no one supporting him. I don't think he thought at ANY POINT during this day that he should get help from anyone. Which is-- very him, and very brave, and I think that's part of his problem.

I think Blitz took action from the moment Stolas kicked him out (How about some funny shit to lighten the mood? If I keep texting, he has to respond. OKAY he's not responding? I'm going back over there.)

Then he kept going for the rest of the day- and yes, adjusted each time a new realization hit, but not enough to really think about what Stolas needed or what BLITZ HIMSELF NEEDED. Because if he paused, he would have had to sit with what had happened, and have to sit with the reality of being alone. And I think that inaction- that space to think- is too painful right now. When he gets home from the party, it's going to hit him like a fucking train.

He NEEDS his fam right now. Loona, Moxxie, Millie, maybe Fizz . . . please let this guy know he's cared for.

[canisalbus]

Thinking about a scenario where Vasco has to kill someone to protect Machete. Like maybe a lone assassin is sent to kill Machete in his sleep, only to be surprised by Vasco sharing a bed with him, and Vasco is first to react. Machete would see how killing affects those with souls purer than his.

.

[sneaky-eel]

Last bit of the sleeping assassins! All of which are also old as I think these were from October/November?

If you don’t like seeing AltDes, EziDes, and ConDes then skip right over these cause what is under the cut is kinda shippy.

“Secret Softie”

Altair waits for Desmond to fall asleep first because he knows Desmond is a heat seeker and will cuddle up to him. Plus since Altair wakes up long before Desmond normally would he can continue to pretend to be that cool and aloof guy.

“Entangled”

Connor usually tries to take up as little space as possible, but with Desmond he will happily coil around him. He makes sure that he is between Desmond and the door so he can be the first to confront any intruders.

“Smothered”

Desmond is the only one of the three who can handle sharing with Ezio. That doesn’t mean he always likes it. On good nights Ezio is a heated, weighted blanket. On bad nights he is a goddamn jackhammer in his ear.

[a-little-buggy]

"Amore mio, we cannot keep doing this." Ezio paced across the wooden floor, running his hand through his hair. It was entirely dark out, and the room was lit by a single candle on the table. "You were gone two full days! I practically turned this city upside-down looking for you!"

"How was I supposed to know I was still seeing things!? I genuinely thought it would wear off before now!" Desmond was sitting in a common room chair; the dark circles under his eyes were accentuated by his washed out complexion. He had just come from a bath, otherwise he would still be coated in sweat and hay. "I thought after a few weeks everything would just go back to normal! Well. . ." Desmond gestured around at the Renaissance assassin's guild hall. "Normal being relative, and all."

Ezio pulled a chair over by Desmond and sat down, picking at the stray straws of hay still glued to Desmond's skin. "I know that you are just trying to keep active, but please. If I get another report of you passing out in an alley, or landing in the river, I swear to Christo I will go gray." He stopped and cupped his hands around Desmond's face. "Don't do this to me, Desmond. I'm too young for gray hair."

"Oh don't worry, it'll be just as popular with the chicks as ever." Desmond gave a *swish* of his imaginary long locks, but the motion made his head spin. He braced his arms against the table. "Though I personally have less interest in the grandpa-type."

"Molto bene, that means you should have a personal investment in not causing me any more stress!"

"You think it's stressful for you? You're not the one running an imaginary Boston Marathon every other weekday!" Desmond scoffed, and laid his head down on the table in such a way as to still be able to give Ezio the stink eye.

"You know that isn't how I meant it. I just wish I could convince you to stay safe." Ezio rocked his chair back, and set his heels on the corner of the table. "At the very least, until we have some kind of answer as to when these episodes occur, or why."

Desmond gave a deep, shuddering sigh. "What if we never get any such answer? What little I know about bleeds is that I originally got them from using the Animus. Except now, I've somehow traveled back through time, so who even knows what kind of effects that could cause."

Ezio pressed a finger to his forehead. "Wait a moment. What is the Animus?"

"Seriously? It's the device that showed me your memories. We talked about this a few days ago."

Ezio removed his feet from the table and sat upright, eyeing Desmond suspiciously. "And when was this again, exactly?"

"Why? I. . . I guess it was four days ago, now, so Thursday? I remember it was raining."

Ezio bit his lip and grimaced, then giving a deep exhale placed a gentle hand on Desmond's leg. "I had a contract in Forlì that day."

"No, no. You're kidding." Desmond pushed off of the table and sank down into the wooden chair, as if it could absorb the impact of this new revelation for him. Ezio couldn't have imagined Desmond getting any paler, but he had. "No. No no no no no Ezio I -"

"Hey, it's alright, you're alright, I just need you to breathe." Desmond was badly shaken by this point, and his legs had given out, leaving him sinking to the floor. Ezio grabbed hold of his shoulders, trying to ease his downward descent.

Desmond's voice cracked. "No, no, it's not alright!" He grabbed Ezio back, desperate for some kind of tether. "How can you stand there and tell me it's alright, just after telling me that you may not even be here!?!?"

"I am here, though. I'm here." Ezio wrapped his arms tightly around Desmond, holding him as close as he possibly could. What else could he do? "Just try to breathe."

And so the two sat there, as the candle burned down to a stump. Slowly, Desmond's shaking turned to shuddered breathing, which turned to deep breaths.

Ezio rubbed Desmond's shoulders. "It may not be much longer until daybreak. Do you think you are ready to try for some sleep?"

Desmond slumped forward, burying his face in Ezio's chest. "Honestly? I think I'm too exhausted to make it to bed. Here seems fine."

Ezio chuckled. "For you, perhaps, but I am a creature of comfort." With one of his arms still wrapped around Desmond's back, he slid the other one under Desmond's knees and stood up, carrying him off towards the bunks.

Desmond wrapped his arms around Ezio's neck. "My hero," he sleepily crooned.

"Don't sing my praises just yet, amò." Ezio shifted Desmond's weight, fumbling to turn the doorknob. "I may expect you to return the favor one day."

"What?!" Desmond gasped, playing up the dramatics. " 's not fair, you're much bigger than I am!"

"Is that meant as a compliment or an insult?"

"I dunno yet." Desmond yawned. "I'll decide later, when I need one or the other."

Soon enough, they both had clambered into bed, and were able to get some much needed sleep.

-----

Desmond spent the next few days occupying himself in the base. Besides helping sort through the dispatching of contracts, he got caught them caught up on some long overdue weapons orders and offered advice to whatever young assasin might come knocking. This was his favorite task. It was a reminder of a simpler time, of when he could stand behind a bar and just chat with people about whatever was ailing them. Except this was a little more murder-y. But having been a bartender in New York, it was not so much more murder-y as one might think.

But all the same, he was beginning to feel cooped up. And so he went to seek audience with the Mentorè, about perhaps being allowed on a group mission of some form.

There were two novices already in Ezio's office, a boy and a girl. They were likely discussing the details of an upcoming contract. Having already opened the door, Desmond knocked on the doorframe. Ezio waved him in.

"What can I do for you, Desmond?" Ezio propped his elbows up on the desk and clasped his hands, resting his chin on top of them.

"Oh, it can wait. Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt." Desmond glanced over at the novices, who in fairness, seemed unperturbed.

"So can this. Please, continue." Ezio leaned back in the chair, and the two young assassins stepped to the side.

Desmond cleared his throat. "With your permission, Mentorè," On this word he did a slight bow. Ezio rolled his eyes. "I would wish to be sent on a mission. As part of a group, of course," He hastened to add. "It's just. . . I don't do well feeling confined. And I'm about ready to go stir-crazy in here."

One of the novices smirked. "Is that different from the regular crazy somehow?" He asked. Desmond gave a dry, mocking laugh in response, but then turned back to Ezio and. . . Oh shit.

Desmond always knew that Ezio Auditore da Firenze was a dangerous man. He knew of all his great conquests, and had seen the fear in the eyes of his enemies. And yet somehow, to see the master assassin here and brimming with fury, it felt like the first time he really understood how terrifying such a man could be.

The other novice slapped the first upside the head, and then grabbed him by the wrist. "Thank you for the advice, Mentorè. We will send word as soon as we complete our task," She said, dragging him out the door, which closed firmly behind them.

Ezio took a deep breath, and settled back into his seat.

Desmond shuffled his feet. "Hey, so umm, you wouldn't have actually murdered that kid, right?"

"Fortunately, we will not have to find out." Ezio shot what he assumed was a comforting smile up at Desmond (it wasn't) and then rifled through some papers on his desk. "I actually have a mission that should suit you just fine. It should be straightforward, a matter of some scouting and interrogating a handful of people. There will be two others with you, and you will cover a fair bit of ground. Benè?" Ezio handed over a map with a few directions and way points marked on it.

Desmond nodded. "Yeah, benè. Thank you, Ezio."

"You're welcome. You leave in an hour. And Desmond," He continued, once Desmond had turned to leave. "I know you are highly skilled, but do still be careful."

"I will." Desmond walked back over to Ezio, then kissed him on the cheek and winked. "I promise."

Ezio kicked his boots up on the desk. "Oh, you are such a flirt."

"Well, I come by it honestly." And with that, Desmond left to make preparations.

-----

Desmond was sitting atop a window dormer, watching the surrounding area as another assassin prepared to 'talk to' a gang member in the alleyway below. A third assassin was perched on another neighboring rooftop, similarly spying for any potential complications. This was the method they had all decided on, and it had been working quite well. One person would go to meet the target, and the other two would remain above: out of sight so as to not cause any alarm, but close enough to drop into the fray should anything go awry. This was the last one on their list, and then they could all go back and herald their mission as a success.

He scanned the skyline. Besides the other assassin (whose name he had learned was Achille), there was no one visible up here. He peered down into the street. Piera (visible in blue) had just cornered in on the gang member (visible in gold). One or two of their targets had been willing to part with their information before it came to blows, but such instances were few and far between. Piera gave a quick display of her hidden blade, just to make her intentions and alliances clear.

As was typical, the conversation started with an exchange of thinly-veiled threats. "Next will come the unveiled threats, and then the diet violence," Desmond mused to himself.

The target started shouting. Desmond thought he heard another voice. He scanned the rooftops again, and this time saw a pair of guards off in the distance behind him. He looked back at Achille, who did not seem to react. "This again," Desmond muttered under his breath. He shifted to the right, and the guards were gone from his line of sight. "Please let that fix it." He turned back to watching the alley.

"You belong down in the street with the rest of the filth!" The voice was still distant, but it was definitely louder this time.

Desmond sighed. He turned to look behind himself, and saw the two guards from before making their way over, and a third guard climbing up behind them. "Just ignore them, and they'll go away," He said to himself. He turned back to the alleyway.

"Get down off this roof, or I will throw you off myself!"

Desmond scoffed. "I'd like to see you try. I think I'm finished throwing myself off of rooftops because of figments of my twisted imagination."

He heard another shout. This one wasn't from the target, or the illusory guard, but from Achille. "Desmond, look out!"

Desmond spun around, but not quickly enough, because a boot impacted him squarely in the chest, and he fell from the roof.

He desperately reached out, trying to grab hold of something to hang from. His right hand caught the wooden paneling of the window he was sitting above, but the wooden beam was brittle and snapped off, splintering under his fingernails. He yelled, and was unable to grab hold anywhere else.

Desmond's ankle rolled as he hit the ground, and he fell prone. The guard peered from the rooftop above, and apparently for the first time put together the implications of there being three hooded figures together. "Assassinos! Get them!" Well, so much for subtlety.

Piera ran over to help Desmond to his feet, and the gang member bolted. Desmond shook his head, and pulled himself up. "Don't worry about me, I can handle a few guards. Don't let the target get away!" He turned to face the building he had fallen from. The guards were already descending. He shifted his weight, and winced. Running's not an option. He readied his blade.

Desmond lunged at the first guard to get his boots on the ground. He hadn't yet pulled his sword, so Desmond easily grabbed hold of him, sliding the hidden blade between his ribs. Unfortunately, the next two landed with their swords already drawn, and Desmond could hear more footsteps fast approaching. "Shit, how many of you are there?"

He heard a shriek from above, and looked up just in time to dodge a guard falling from the rooftop, an arrow lodged in his chest. He landed with a dull, wet thud. Desmond spared a glance up towards Achille, who was already nocking another arrow. "Oh, this should be a peace of cake, then."

Desmond crossed blades with the two guards closest to him, parrying and deflecting their attacks. One of them leaped forward with an arcing swing of their sword. Desmond dodged under and to the side of the swing, then came around behind the off-balance guard, slitting his throat.

Another shriek, another thud. Desmond easily dispatched his next opponent, sweeping him off his feet and then skewering him where he fell. But the next guards approached together, and Desmond had to shift his focus to defense again.

Shriek, thud. One of the guards tried to bring his sword down on Desmond's head, who used both blades to intersect it. In the sword's reflection, Desmond saw another guard coming from behind him. "I've got you now, assassino!" Desmond shoved his current attacker off and spun around, swinging his blade in a wide arc. But as soon as his blade hit the guard's chest, he disappeared into mid-air.

Desmond growled. "Are yOU KIDDING ME!?!?!"

Shriek, thud.

A low chuckle from one of the guardsmen. "Jumping at shadows, boy? Ready for someone to put you out of your misery?" Desmond turned on his heel and lunged for the unlucky dastard's face, plunging both of the hidden blades deep into his eyesockets.

What few guards remained turned tail and ran.

Shriek, thud. Desmond turned once again to Achille, who was now clambering down the building, bow in hand. "They were already running, y'know."

Achille landed on the street, and shrugged. "They picked the fight. The least they could do is have the decency to see it through."

Desmond chuckled, then rubbed his shoulder. "Well, whether Piera caught the target or not, by now, she'll be heading back to base. We should be, too." He looked down at his swelling ankle. "No crazy parkour shit though."

-----

Ezio was pacing back and forth across the wooden floor, combing his hand through his hair. Piera had gotten back with her report on the mission two hours ago. He had already sent ten otherwise idle assassins out searching for Desmond, and he was deliberating about sending more.

"He has returned!" Came a voice from the door.

Ezio raced to the door. His stomach lurched when he saw Desmond, covered in blood and limping, except. . . He was also smiling? There he was, covered head-to-toe in blood, and grinning ear-to-ear!

"Desmond? Are you. . ." He looked Desmond up and down. Bloody. Beaming. "Did you hit your head?"

"Ezio!" Desmond threw his arms up wide, flinging blood on the assassins unfortunate enough to be standing near him. "No, I'm just fine! Well, I wrecked my ankle, but not nearly so much as I wrecked all of the guards!"

Ezio laughed. "So, you determined that what you needed was catharsis, and that any guard would suffice?"

"Well no, actually," Desmond responded a bit sheepishly. "I let them get the drop on me, believing they weren't real."

Ezio very abruptly stopped laughing. "You WHAT -"

"Can we discuss it later? I know it's a problem, but I'm currently riding a high, and I would like to enjoy it."

Ezio started to object, but instead wrapped an arm over Desmond's shoulders. "Later then." He lifted his arm, and stared in horror at the gloopy mess now dripping from it. "Dio mio, someone needs to give you a bath."

Desmond smirked. "Are you volunteering?"

-----

I don't ever think of myself as a creative person, so I am ABSOLUTELY blaming @sulfies that I have done this again, lol. I hope you enjoyed though! Much less bleed effect whump this time around, and much less re-reading to check that it makes sense, lol. Hyperfixation + insomnia = I wrote another story, but now it's a quarter to six in the morning and I may low-key hate myself tomorrow (today?). Thanks for reading!

[napping-sapphic]

Weather is nice which one of you wants to go on a hike with me and lovingly give me your hand to help me over any obstacles