#desmond miles' mother

[marf244]

Do you have any design ideas/headcanons about Desmond’s mom? I’ve never seen anyone talk about her much :(

I’m so glad you asked!! I do have a design I’m working on for her, I did some more doodles but overall she’s still a WIP

Headcanons are under the cut!

First, her name is Dalia and she has TWO kids

Had an older sister, Kate, who introduced her to the brotherhood and also to Bill

Got the scar on her ear from another assassin

Was a field agent for a while, mostly running interference and causing general trouble for Abstergo

She's very independent, liking to do things alone and avoiding help if possible (Unless she's the one helping)

Helped build/ run the Farm, especially when Bill was away. She put a lot more of herself into then he did ultimately

The 'family life' she was aiming for on the Farm kind of fell through for her, she ended up working a lot more than spending time as a family

She was still very loving, more so than Bill, and a lot more lenient but she could be distant when buried in her work

She's very forgiving, maybe too much

Tries too hard to be positive but often has a somber vibe to her

After Desmond died and Bill left, she was bereft and angry but used it to drive herself. Without family to worry for, she buried herself in work which was mostly helping the other displaced families from the raid on the Farm

Doesn't like to talk about that period in her life

'Divorces' Bill later in life surprisingly amicably

Aaaand here's a bonus Desmond & mom doodle :>

#assassins creed #desmond miles #william miles #desmond miles' mother #assassins creed oc #oc: ash #oc: dalia #ocs #modern day gang #doodles #fanart #text #ask #amefuyuu

[sneaky-eel]

Sense Ubisoft decided to give us jack shit on Desmond's mother I wanted to do my own little head-canon of her.

Desmond's mother is a cold, no-nonsense woman. A prodigy in her own right who was probably one of the options for the next mentor, but preferred field work. Her acts of love are through services and what is a better service to those she loves then ridding the world of templars. The longest she probably went without being out in the field was when Desmond was born and it isn't till he is 5 or 6 that she goes back out. Now she is working twice as hard. Not just for her fellow assassins, but now she has a son. A son who will be forced to do this same exact thing if she doesn't do something.

So she is around less and less. One day here, two days there. And maybe she thinks she is doing her family a favor. She deludes herself into thinking this will push Bill and Desmond closer together. Desmond will love Bill more because he is there and she is not. But it has the opposite effect. As he gets older Desmond starts to resent Bill. He can never be good enough. Never strong enough or fast enough. He is subjected to a constant stream of belittlement from his father. Bill works all the time and Desmond hates that he is forced to have dinners at an empty table all alone while Bill is in his office. So close but still too far.

But his mother? Oh his mother is his hero because all this time he has been building in his head the idea of what his mother is. An ideal mother. "Yeah she isn't here cause she is keeping us safe. Everyone says how great she is. The best of the best." He tells himself. Then as he gets older he starts to compare Bill to this idea of his mother. "If mom was here she'd be able to explain this better to me. She is really smart.", "When mom gets back I'm sure she can help me with this move. She's the best.", "Once mom gets here we can have dinner like a family, maybe we can cook together." on and on.

Finally, at 16, his mother is home for the first time for a longer than a day. Two whole weeks in fact. And he is so excited only for that reunion to be awkward and kind of cold. He doesn't get those meals together like he hoped. Training with her is worse than his father. With Bill he had learned when the man is actually paying attention and where, which allowed Desmond to slack in other areas, but with his mother she is always watching. She nitpicks every movement and doesn't seem to understand why he can't get something on the first try. She pushes Desmond well past exhaustion and makes him train even past that. Desmond's carefully crafted view of his mother is destroyed in just a few days leaving him empty and convinced that neither of his parents actually love him.

From Desmond's mother's point of view the reunion is "cold" because she doesn't know what to say to her son. She has been gone for so much of his life and the only things she really knows about him are through Bill. She knows he has potential, but he is "disinterested" and "never takes anything seriously" so in training she pushes him. She has been a field agent this whole time. She knows that a single misstep can mean death and Desmond is already 16. In a few more years they will send him on his first mission and she will be damned if she lets him die. Those missed meals together? She is with Bill in his office helping with his work and on occasion they will sit there with a bottle of scotch between them, talking about life before. Before he had to be mentor, when they had at least a little time to themselves. A little time for each other. She doesn't see what she is doing to Desmond.

When it's time for her to leave again she doesn't question Desmond's lack of smile or how he says he is going to go "train", she only thinks 'Good. He is going to start taking things more seriously.' She doesn't think anything is wrong when she gets off the plane and she drives to the safe-house. She doesn't know that Desmond has snuck out. Ran away from the home he believes never even cared about him. Nothing is wrong until Bill calls her and says the three words the shatters her world.

"Desmond is gone."

#assassin's creed #desmond miles #william miles #Desmond miles' mother #written post #can you tell I don't write often? <:D #headcanon #I think both her and Bill tried to show their love through preparing desmond #it just horrible backfired on them #Being a prodigy she never learned how to teach other “regular” people #the fact they never even gave her a name #damn it ubisoft #I want to learn to write so I can feed my own fanfic needs

[teecupangel]

You know Desmond is really unlucky with how his bloodline like he got the Kenway drama and bad fathers genes from his from one side and the non-existent mother genes on Altaïr's side where instead if you flip them you get Desmond's father (whose name suddenly escapes me) dying while Desmond is young and Desmond either raised by his mother who might be better idk but it'd be hard to do worse than (insert des's dad's name here)

Uuuhhh… well, his mother’s personality has never been explored all that well.

The most we know of her, as far as I know, is that she had been worried and trying to find Desmond when he ran away and that she knew that her husband’s personality can be considered quite cold but she’s used to it and it’s from Assassin’s Creed Encyclopedia p182 (the White version):

“While William’s wife has always been able to deal with this emotional distance, young Desmond could not.”

This could either mean that it was a loveless marriage that may or may not have been amicable OR they had the kind of love where they didn’t need to show it to know that they love each other.

I personally believe that Desmond doesn’t hate his mother. Whenever he talks about her, there’s always this feeling of wistfulness in it. While we cannot be sure what kind of mother she was, it’s clear that Desmond cares for her in some way.

At the very least, he feels some kind of guilt for leaving her when he didn’t feel the same way for Bill.

So in this situation where Bill died while Desmond was young, there’s a higher chance of Desmond not leaving the Farm.

Of course, Bill’s death could easily change his wife and Desmond would now have to deal with a grieving mother who might want to finish Bill’s training.

The grief of losing her husband could just as easily turn to fear of losing her son and that fear would force her to push her son to work harder, to become stronger.

In turn, making her just as bad or even worse than Bill.

On the other hand, losing Bill could be the trigger that makes have a more active part in Desmond’s training with the fear of losing her son making her dote on Desmond more.

We can never be sure how one would react to the lost of someone they love after all.

But what if it had been a loveless marriage?

Then the most that would change would probably be his mother taking a more active role in his life.

So it really boils down to what kind of mother you would want Desmond to have.

The only limitation is that, no matter what kind of mother she is, she did not have the power or she directly didn’t intervene with how Bill treated Desmond.

.

.

My go to ‘mother’ is usually one that’s cold towards Bill and only married and had a child with him because of it was her duty. Why? Because I like to add more drama to Desmond’s life.

She’s usually the one who give Desmond tips when he’s having trouble with training, being the one to teach him how to use fae lies and to close and open his hands to the timing of his slow breathing whenever he’s starting to panic.

She cares for Desmond and tries to be gentle with him but she has a heavy sense of duty to the Brotherhood as a descendant of the Ibn-La'Ahad and her complicated relationship with Bill and Bill’s focus on raising Desmond makes her a bit more distant than she or Desmond would have liked to each other.

When Desmond left, that’s when her carefully created mask of indifference fell apart and she tried to look for him desperately.

That kind of personality would have stepped up after Bill’s death and train Desmond the way she had been trained and the way she wished she had been trained.

In that kind of scenario, there’s a chance that Desmond would actually grow up to be more like Altaïr than the Desmond we all know and love.

.

Personally, I think canonically Bill’s wife does love him (who may or may not have already died in the attack on the Farm if the way Bill sides away from Desmond's request to talk to her in AC3 was any indication). I just like writing her as having a complicated relationship with Bill and Desmond so Desmond inherits the Kenway family drama XD. (which can be seen a bit in The Shadow’s Endgame)

#ngl #I spent more time trying to find that small bit of info about his mother #than writing the idea #I had to check 4 of the ac books ihave XD #cause i know one of them had that but i can’t remember which one XD #how do i tag this??? #uuuhhh #ask and answer #teecup writes/has a plot #fic idea: assassin's creed #desmond miles' mother #william miles' wife #does this count as william miles x oc???

[fromashesweriseuphiddenones]

Day five

By the time Desmond was five years old, he was already being trained in the assassin ways. And at five, he was being forced to fully participate in training, with kids twice to three times his size and age. Most of the time the poor boy was getting sat on. It was embarrassing for him and for William.

Kayana hated seeing her sweet boy so abused and tried her hardest to be there for him and supportive but William as soon as he got wind would send her off on missions for months on end often making Desmond feel isolated.

William, aside from the disappointment that was Desmond, had other things to be quite proud of. He had a little cult that was growing within the ranks of this cell. Loyal to him and the one who waits.

Haytham Kenway watched at a distance, biding his time before he could pull his son from this hell he was born to. Many of his fellow Templars did say his hands were tied for the moment since he didn't have proof of the abuse. He had to get it somehow.

The times William was out, and Kayana was around, Haytham would be there. Polite and encouraging to Desmond, working with him one on one to help him improve. Which William's elite noticed but knew their hands were tied since Desmond was getting better.

#assassin's creed #writing #desmond miles #assassins creed rogue #gaming #desmond miles' mother #haytham kenway #change the course

[thesharktanksdriver]

Blood's Thicker Than Water (Platonic)

Made this cause I love assassins creed and I hate how they left the plot point about Desmond having a kid from a one night stand. Like sure there’s a comic for Elijah but let’s be real, who here has read that comic?

Sorry if any of them seem out of character, I haven’t played the games in a long while lol

Also thanks to my friend for streaming the games so I can get back into them lol

You never really met your dad but from what your mother described him as he was….a troubled soul

Now to be fair you’ve never exactly met Desmond Miles yourself but from the stories she told it’s obvious he had his fair share of demons

Some of which seemed to spill from the cracks of his soul from the short time she spent with him

A bartender is what he was, until he suddenly up and vanished from said bar in 2012 and died not too long after

It didn’t really make sense then even to your young mind

The gap between his sudden disappearance and death leaving too much unsaid for your mind not to be annoyed by

But as a child you eventually put the thought away

Eventually you forget

Instead going on to pursue your next whim as you focus on the present, or in your case Learning about the past in the present time

Unlike your fascination with your father that went away, your love of history never faded with time

It just seemed to grow the older you got

Your not sure why but something about history just clicked with you

It was somewhere within the range of middle school and reading national geographic that you had realized you liked it

That despite how some areas of it were bleak and disturbing it was interesting

And it got even more so interesting as you delved deeper into the depths of libraries

Nose buried in books lined with dust and old parchment

Yellowed pages and old ink that you carefully decode from centuries of lost meaning and metaphors lost to the modern age

You studied from the ancients all the way up to Victorian

Easing your way though literal centuries of historical records as you soaked up information like a sponge

And it’s there you vegans seeing an odd…repetition of events that seemed to occur

Odd assassinations plagued each era you looked into, all of which connected somehow by people in odd dress

In some journals that had luckily stood the tests of time you uncovered more eye witness accounts

A solider’s log back in the revolutionary war talking about an odd man meeting with his superiors in the dead of night

The diary of a log master who wrote of an odd frequent visitor that had an odd blade hidden beneath his sleeve

The drawing of a Victorian child being freed from a factory that had a hooded lady and man on the rooftop

I’m one you found a symbol, one created from the bottom perspective of an eagle skull, something also commonly associated with these hooded figures

What’s odd as well is that with these hooded assassins you also find traces of another group

One well know to historians such as yourself

Oddly enough the symbol of the Templar knights keep showing up even after their annulment

It’s odd, but what’s more odd enough is that both seemed to be tied to other historical artifacts

Ones well kept in archives and from the public eye

Ones you shouldn’t technically know about if not for you sneaking into sections your don’t have the status to enter

Their always gold with odd symbols. Somehow always pristine and polished despite the fact their dated to be from before ancient times

They for some reason seem to call to you specifically

Tempting you with forbidden knowledge you wish to taste like Eve

But for now you choose to wait until you can do proper analysis on them without the risk of punishment

So you lie and wait

Admittedly you didn’t think anyone expected for you to be this good at your job

In their defence you were a university student here on Co-op and not an actual full time historian

Hell you were in first year for gods sake

But somehow despite it all

Despite the fact you had actual historians and people in the history program years above you here you quickly began to become an outlier

A shinning beacon within the large archive, so much so that you began being allowed in the restricted sections you already snuck into

Mind you, now properly allowed there with some supervision of sorts gave you much more flexibility in research

You got to touch these artifacts

Hold them in gloved palms as silk covered finger glide across its edges and ridges

You study them extensively decrypting and decoding the ancient texts and hieroglyphs

Jotting down what you found in both a report and your own personal journal

Your not sure why you do so but you chock it up to making sure no one takes credit for your work

And this continues to the point your eventually allowed alone with them

It’s great

You dedicate yourself to this task as you learn more and more

Soaking up knowledge like a sponge as you find out more of what was previously lost

Find new angles and perspectives on events

For history isn’t just a set time and date, it’s interpretation based on what we know from sources

And even then sources can be biased

Sources can lie and silence another person’s view on the event

Your more than happy to try make your own interpretations

Admittedly when you were asked to study what looked to be a necklace from these unidentified ancient artifacts you were ecstatic

How could you not be?

Intricate gold woven in something akin to Grecian jewelry

Yet also had hints of something akin to Egyptian

It also…glows? Or at least you swear you’ve seen it glow gold and pulsate a few times but that could be the sleep deprivation speaking

Either way it’s an honour

One you don’t take lightly as you study it

Spending countless restless nights and days trying to crack its code

An unknown source has been funding the archive and your research quite a bit

Betting big money on it much to your surprise and suspension

You get that this is potentially something big but it feels out of left field

Especially since no one knows the name of the company

It’s just under an anonymous donation every month

It’s sketchy

But you aren’t one to argue about free money to further your and your colleagues pursuit of knowledge

Not when this beautiful place used to be underfunded

Not when most historical records were donated by people with a good conscious

Not when this place was almost shut down

With a sigh you continue on your work

Diligently tact checking and writing up a storm

Your writing looks like chicken scratch but that was a commonality between all history majors

Well, along with being giant nerds

And it’s there at that desk at 3 am in the morning, tired and only running on 3 hours of rest you find something peculiar on the necklace

A sharp jaded edge that you absentmindedly prick yourself on by accident

With a groan you wipe the blood away on your pants

Then going up to get a bandaid

You swore to god if you died of tetanus you’d be positively pissed

Unknown to you the necklace starts to glow

When you get home your more exhausted than usual

Your limbs feel like their kade of concrete and your head is stuffed with tissue

Eyelids trying to glue themselves shut

You practically kick off your shoes before tumbling to the couch

Not bothering in changing clothes or showering for the sweet relief of sleeps embrace

So you flop down face first into the old leather cushions of your couch

Only putting in the effort of fishing a hand to grab a throw pillow and blanket from nearby that you burrowed yourself into

A comfy cocoon/prison you couldn’t will yourself to leave even as you swore for a moment you heard something in the house

But your mind writes it off

Your too tired to question anything let alone get up

All you want is sleep

And that’s exactly what you get as your eyelids shut

You fall into the realm of dreams, odd ones playing out in your mind

Blurred images of odd men

A weird void-like realm

The cries of an eagle overhead

A single word appearing in your head

Kenway

And then your eyes snap awake when the sound of arguing fills your ears

Yelling of several male voices jumbling up your already fogged up sense as you practically fall off the couch in a mixture of fear and confusion

Curses escaping your mouth when suddenly the voices go silent and your left in a realm of fear

Hair standing on end as the creaking of the house makes you more alert

Despite the fact you’d never fought a day in your life you will up the courage to grab a baseball bat and cautious cross to where you heard the commotion

Careful steps on the non-creaky boards of the home that you’d luckily memorized

And there you find several men in old garb

Accents of Red tying them together like a string of fate

Or a trail of blood fainting their very existence

they turn to you with sharp eyes

It’s the one in modern clothes that surprises you the most

The face of your supposed dead father staring back at you

Ocher brown eyes that had long lost their life now rejuvenated as they seem to find familiarity in your own features

Some of which mirror his own along with some of the others in the room

The bridge of your nose

A all powerful spark in your eyes as they flick between everyone and escape routes

The way your lip slightly twitches when you try to keep a brave face

Your posture as you decided what to do

It’s all too familiar to him and them in a way that isn’t just coincidence

Especially not when all of them are Kenway

Not when he had been able to prove to them that fact through the experience of virtually living through their lives up until his death

“I’m not sure who the fuck all of you are but get out of my house.” Your fingers twitch and flex as your palms grow sweaty, the wood absorbing the pressure and moisture “especially my dead dad look-alike”

You all but confirm his suspicions

Their suspicions

And it looks Ike for you tonight will be much longer than you anticipated

Turns out that artifact you were studying wasn’t just as normal one

Neither were the other ones you looked at

The way they explained it as was their “artifacts from dead gods”, a fallen civilization that engineered humanity into being their slaves

It’s a lot to take in

Even more so when your suspicions of something bigger happening throughout global history with those odd deaths were real

Oh, and these were you dead ancestors and dad somehow back from the grave and now in your home

…..yeah safe to say that’s a lot to take in after an already very long and tiring shift

You sit there as they explain this, half asleep, and half exasperated

Cause how the hell are you supposed to believe all this bullshit that for some reason feels correct

Something in you tells you that their right yet your mind is fighting that logic

You’d always been a logical person, when it came to most situations you used your brain instead of your heart

And in those cases things ended up fine

But now your faced with this

A situation where your heart is screaming for you to listen as your brain tries to take this all in

Cause logic is completely out the window at the moment

For now you have to trust them even if your still afraid

I mean, how couldn’t you be?

But you get the sense that they understand

At least a little bit by how their also thrusted into a new environment without much say

Perhaps that (along with your own apprehension) is helping comfort them as well

So for now they’ll stay

Your just thanking (the dead) gods that grandma and grandpa’s old home is big enough for all of them

Altaïr Ibn-La’ Ahad

The oldest down the line of your dad’s side of your lineage finds himself often reading through your books in your study

It was a bit of a surprise one day entering it to find him sitting in a spare chair but you don’t mind the silent company

Especially as he seems to find interest in your studies

Occasionally he breaks the silence and asks you a question about the subject he’s reading about

He’s by far the oldest (even if he’s back in the body of his prime) of them therefore he’s the one who has the most figuratively to catch up on

So you indulge him

And also asks questions as well that he seems eager in answering

Knowledge connects you both, scholarly intellect being the bridge between the two of you despite centuries of time apart

Typically he asks about thinks such as modern life and what is know about his home, what happened to it? What it’s known of his era

You answer as best you can

Especially since that era of time isn’t exactly your forte

But he appreciates it anyways

Appreciates that you try, appreciates that you passionately care about history in the first place

Admittedly your mom was supportive but never understood your love of history

She’d listen to your rants and long conversations with a polite smile but you knew she never understood what you were talking about

But he does

He does and contributes whole heartedly in just as much passion

It’s nice

What’s also nice is that he’s studied the artifacts you now study as well

So now your both constantly coming up and developing ideas together

A constant back and forth

Hypotheses, discussion, and testing

Delving deeper into discovery like you’ve wanted

But with this he also helps you see where passion and obsession mix together

After the loss of his wife and son he delved into studying as a form of escape

It drove who was left away

Made the pit in his heart deeper

He doesn’t talk about it often but he seems to see how you may go down the same path

And he warns you of it

Unlike his younger self (that he now appears as) he’s wise if a little rough around the edges

He encourages knowledge but not to the point where it’s an all encompassing and toxic obsession

Within the household he seems to take a somewhat neutral but quiet role

He helps out and offers advice and guidance

Much like a teacher and grandfather of sorts

Speaking up when he has to and making sure the house doesn’t end up in disrepair

He seems to have a fascination with modern appliances, or at least holds a thankfulness for them

Like a few others he sticks to his robes most the time but you’ve seen him sport more modern clothes once awhile

Stuff still somewhat reminiscent of what he wore before but with a modern flare. Things with hoods and draping. Silks and wool. Something with an accent of red mixed in

Sometimes when you fall asleep in your studies you find a blanket draped over you and a cup of tea at your side

He won’t admit it’s him but he’s the only one who knows your tea preferences

He keeps his worry for you deep down but it’s somewhat relived when seeing that you take his warning of not taking the pursuit of knowledge too far

“It says here there was something called the “French revolution”. Would you care to explain what happened here to me?” He asks making you pause your work for a moment, when he sees your smile he knows your answer. Sure he read some of this book and got the gist of it, but something about seeing your eyes light up at his inquiry makes him feel at peace for a moment.

“Would I ever!”

Ezio Auditore da Firenze

This man is quite literally all up in your (and everyone’s) business

Not in an annoy way per say but he’s definitely curious about the lives his descendants have led (both good and bad)

Ezio is very clearly a family man and it’s somewhat ironic to see since half of this household has some sort of familiar issue

Most of which is some sort of daddy issue stemming from either Haythem or Edward that trickled down the line to you

Something that Ezio is seemingly trying to wrap his head around

Out of the others he’s the one who opens up the most

Partially because you think he misses his immediate family and friends

It must be a lot to handle being away from home, now in a foreign land where everything has changed

Despite that though he keeps a brave face

Almost always flashing a smile as he drags you from your study to have some “bonding time”

You won’t admit it to his face but you don’t mind

Especially as he gives your poor hunched over back a break

And treats your pallet to some good old fashioned (literally) Italian food and not cup ramen once again

He tried it once and threw your supply out, saying he’d be supplementing you with food from now on

You can’t exactly say your disappointment or upset from the heaven that is fresh baked garlic bread and pasta

He cooks not only for you but for the others of the house as well, saying his sister taught him lest he piss off his future lady

Taking in their suggestions and cooking foods from their homes as a way of him offering comfort

Whilst he does these tasks he often hums in his mother tongue of Latin

You don’t have the heart to tell him it’s a dead language

Especially when he seems so happy that you can somewhat understand it

He’s happily rambling and teaching you words

Helping you sound out phrases and pronunciation correctly unlike your Latin professor

Some of his songs he lightly sings under his breath get stuck in your head since he has a good singing voice

But despite the facade you see the cracks

Sometimes you find him looking at modern objects mumbling about how Leonardo would have loved to see this or made something similar

Or how Claudia would’ve liked this book

How Petruccio would have loved this toy

It….leaves a bitter taste in your mouth

Once upon a time you felt this same type of longing for family

Once a time you thought of you dad before going to bed and staring at his old Polaroid with hope

One that would never come to fruition (until now)

It’s why you indulge him, to keep his mind off the deeper plunge of melancholy

Compared to the others he’s relatively open to modernizing

In fact he seems somewhat excited in these things

Raiding your wardrobe like a damn fashionista and critiquing what’s good quality

He also has a wide variety of looks, not sticking to something similar to his time of dress

Versatile and somehow up to date? Your not sure how but somehow he’s in fashion?

Like he must’ve found a copy of vogue or something cause there is no way he just guessed that this was the new trend

When you pressure him on it he replies that he’s simply that amazing

You call bullshit but have yet to find evidence

But in the meantime you ask get him to tell you about Da Vinci and you furiously jot down what he says

Sometimes when he looks at you he sees flashes of Claudia’s quick wit

It makes him long for home yet as he looks at his descendants and ancestor he also feels….something

A small pit of warmth developing as he gets to know the inhabitants of this house longer

Meet Altair besides through a weird vision

His home is in Florence yet that feeling of comfort from the Villa is bleeding into these old (yet new) walls

“So this painting is his most famous work?” He asks looking at your computer with a bit of confusion, his scared lips quirking at the digital image.

“Yeah. This is actually probably the most famous painting in the world”

“Really? Of all his works this one is considered the best? I’m not doubting his skill but of all his pieces?”

“Believe me, I get it. It’s only this famous cause it was stolen”

“Stolen?!? Tell me who did it! I swear-”

Edward Kenway

For someone who was a feared pirate on the seas he’s surprisingly much less violent than you’d think him to be

Sure, he’s scary as hell still but at least he’s not stabbing you in the back and making off with your grandmas pearls or something

Still your a bit unnerved by him considering you did a project on him back in middle school and he’s now in your home

Munching on some god damn biscuits as if this was a normal situation

His son Haytham avoids his as best he can but he seems to bond with his grandson quite easily

Or more easily than he does with Haythem

It takes some time but you eventually go to him when you find him awake at the dead hours of night

A whisky bottle in hands as he occasionally takes a swig in silence as he stares out the window

You don’t talk

You don’t need to when he drinks in silence for awhile staring at the moon before eventually talking about the guilt

In his pursuit of power and gold he let people die

Greed woven into his soul as he sacrificed good men for his cause

He changed and did good yet his past haunts him

Hands stained red

Guilt eating away

A son who doesn’t want anything to do with him

At some point when he stops his rambles you speak

Reminding him that while his actions weren’t good he changed

It doesn’t wash the blood away but it stoped more from staining his hands

Though Haythem avoids him Connor is more than eager to fill his place

It doesn’t fix his overlying problems but it does help

In the morning he ends up talking with you more after this as your initial fear melts away

You end up seeing Edward Kenway, not the fiercesome captain of the Jackdaw

You see a man burdened by past mistakes and still wishes to do better

You see a human being at its core

With history it’s easy to forget the people your looking at was once alive and a breathing being

One who was just as flawed as you and I

But seeing a infamous pirate captain cry about issues pertaining not just time him made you remember that

He isn’t opposed to modernizing but seems to keep a certain sea-like touch to his appearance

Clothes for labourers and something loose is what he normally sticks to

He’s lucky though since he doesn’t exactly have traditional robes and can incorporate what he appeared in with a modern flair

Occasionally when he gets drunk he slurs out old shanties and talks about his epic tales

You might or might not have freaked the fuck out learning that James kidd was actually a woman

Mind blown

Ezio and Altair had to drag you away from your computer from writing an entire essay

Sitting on your countertop he holds a glass of whiskey in hand, one held out for you as you sit down beside him. The moon casts its gentle rays and lights the marble slab you both sit on. “I prefer Rum but this’ll do” it’s said in a playful tone that makes you nod and take a sip.

“I can grab some captain Morgan later…speaking of which, did you know him?

“No, but I did find a few of his things laying about “

“Care to tell?”

“Aye, sure thing”

Haytham Kenway

As the only Templar in this house it’s safe to say he’s definitely the outlier of the bunch

A relative lone wolf from the group that all hold some sort of Ill feelings towards him

From his father its confusion and sadness

The others it’s a mix of that and anger

From Connor it’s just plain…well your not quite sure how to describe it

The two’s entire family situation is just plain messy and thick with tension that their blades could cut through

But here’s the thing, in this house your also an outlier

A neutral zone so to say

Hell, the entire house seemed to be a haven of sorts from their whole Templar vs Assassin conflict

To be honest you don’t really care about this secret war

Well that’s a lie you are interested in these war of secret societies but you don’t specifically care to get involved in their politics

Not when you have business in interfering in it unless a fight breaks out and your telling everyone to calm the fuck down

So safe to say your kinda the only one who talks to Haytham

He is…well sometimes he’s a bit of an ass (in the British type of way) but at the same time he’s good conversation

Specifically when it comes to that of morals and philosophical beliefs

He is a conflicted man

A flawed one

But he holds his beliefs and morals despite the fact he’s been hurt and betrayed by a man he viewed as a mentor

He doesn’t talk about it much but he’s still hurt

Still seething with venom that burns his soul and flesh

Makes him want to lash out despite his upperclassman appearance and attitude

That despite it all he loves his son, so much so he willingly walked into what would be his death knowingly

That despite what happened he loves his dad yet can’t face him yet on account of what he became

What ideals and morals he still believes in even now

It’s perhaps he’s venting this to you rather than a journal because he knows you won’t judge him unfairly on the basis of what side your own

Your judging him as a flawed man and as an equally flawed person

It’s with him as well you open up about your own frustrations

How you still don’t know how to feel about this all

The fact that a lot of what you once knew was flipped on it’s head

Along with the fact your not even sure how to address your dad

It’s an entire mess but perhaps your both messed up together and that also draws you both to talking

To discuss your feelings of insucurity and confliction

To feel comfort that your not alone in not having your emotional shit in order

On some especially…emotional nights you both both have a cup of tea

He seems to enjoy that each time you use a different type, much of which used to be hard to obtain due to shipping and it’s prices

He hasn’t really yet grasped modern technology but your slowly helping him with it

It’s kinda like trying to teach a grandpa to figure out a phone, but now it’s him with the concept of a microwave

Like some of the others he’s yet to really also change his clothes to something modern

There has been a few times though he sported sweaters and vests

Your now working on helping his wardrobe since he prefers a sophisticated look

Occasionally he looks at the photos that line your walls, looking as you evolve through the ages

It’s…odd

With Connor he never had the chance to watch him grow

Never a snapshot to immortalize what he was like a child but now ones of you litter the walls like paintings

He feels melancholy

Yet at the same time he’s happy to get another chance maybe

One that is seemingly being helped by your gentle hand unknowingly

“I never thought about it until now but the stars are different” he says taking a sip of his matcha tea, he lets it pool on his tongue and experience the flavour. Not his favourite but not the worst

“That’s cause of light pollution here…though the stars do move so it it’s possible they’ve shifted position in the sky”

“Do they teach you about the stars in your schooling?”

“Yeah I took some. Not sure why, it just kinda spoke to me. Maybe it’s the Kenway blood”

Ratonhnhaké:ton/Connor Kenway

Of the group Connor is the most quiet and surprisingly the one whom you connect with the best for some reason

Perhaps it’s cause your both socially awkward in ways that let you relate

Or the fact you’ve both been ostracized by society for various reasons

His company is that of a quiet one but one you accept it with ease as you both sit and enjoy each others company

A quiet kinship made of unspoken but understood words from one another

The reminder that someone else is there and your not truly alone

He is perhaps the one you feel you can understand the most

And it’s the same likewise for him

Your both people deeply hurt and still bleeding internally

People raised by only their mother in a cruel and harsh world

People who were let down one way or another by their father

People who are still mad and angry but use that to further their determination

It’s odd but you feel truly understood

Like your soul was peeled back to reveal at your core your still a lone spirit lost in the world

One clinging to what they know as their only lifeline in this confusing and jumbled mess of a situation

The hulking 6 foot 2 man shows you trails near your home

Taking to the forest paths you’ve know your entire life and helping you discover even more about them

And while he does this he teaches you more about the world as you both walk the old beaten path

He tells you how to identify what type of tree is which, which stones are likely geodes and what tracks belong to who

It’s honestly petty interesting especially since he adds snippets of stories from his heritage

In return you talk about what you know as well

Snippets of your own knowledge that he seems to store into his mind just as you do with his stories

An equal exchange of sorts

On these walks you begin to notice he takes you out on these when your at your most stressed

The times in which your mind is overworking and consuming itself with anxiety

The times in which you need to breath

Connor doesn’t seem like one to vocally express his care but he does so through action

Small inconspicuous actions that mean a lot more than what meets the eye

It’s seems that his towards you is helping you when you need it most

Taking you away to just take a moment for yourself

To just breath in the fresh air and let the sunset coloured leaves of autumn crunch under your boots

Letting the cold breeze take away your worries

It’s perhaps better than any type of verbal support

Yet another unspoken action of care and compassion through knowing and watching

Of watching and knowing when you need a break

When you realize this and give him a small tired smile as a thanks he seems to know

Only giving a small nod with a minuscule smile of his own

It only grows bigger when you begin to ask him if his traditions, of the stories and practices of his people that he’s more than willing to tell when he knows you ask out of genuine curiosity and respect

Connor is somewhat 50/50 in modernizing

He adapts quite well but still needs help with certain things as he navigates the situation

But like usual he is anything but resourceful as he watches what you do and figures it out

He helps the others quite a bit with what he’s picked up and somewhat takes pride in the fact he can help them

Whilst he’s privy to wearing his robes he isn’t against more modern clothes

The only problem though is sometimes finding stuff that fits him considering he’s not only a giant but also fairly muscular

But your both eventually able to find some stuff for him to wear that he likes

He really appreciates though that you try to buy clothes and jewelry from nearby indigenous peoples

It might not be his but he appreciates the sentiment and familiarity that the beaded jewelry give him

“I’ve lived here my whole life and walked down these paths a thousand times yet it seems more like your the local here” you say with amusement as you follow Conner through an area you’d be never been before.

He smiles, it’s small but there as he adds “just a matter of perspective. You see the paths your used to and I see ones you hadn’t noticed”

Desmond Miles

Yeah so this is entirely awkward for you

Like how the fuck do you emotionally deal with this and the fact your very dead dad who didn’t know you existed till now is now very alive

And living in your house with his very dead ancestors that are also now alive

Case and point you don’t, specifically you ignore the problem and act like everything is fine

You lock yourself away and try to avoid him like the plague

Somehow Scurry past him and into the kitchen to grab something before returning to your abode to eat

But then things got complicated

Things change

You began talking to the others

Slowly coming out the darkness of your study and joining the dinner table

But you still try to avoid him

It feels like the sight of him burns your mind, all those nights as a kid coming back to you

The hope and then disappoint in learning he died and that he likely never wanted you

Your mother never said this but the other kids did. They always teased and picked at the fact you were a mistake

It’s why you push so hard now to be the best, To prove them wrong (to prove to yourself that your worth existing)

The fact is that now he’s here and you don’t know how to deal with that

How would you even start?

What do you even say to him?

You quiet down when he enters a room because you don’t know what to do

Whatever your about to say dying in your throat like a caged bird and all that came come out are garbled noises as you evade him

Eyes casting down to your hands like a child averting their gaze from their parent when in trouble (he is your dad so it’s the same thing right?)

Leaving the room he’s in as quickly as you can once a take is done

The others notice quick, I mean how can’t they? A damn butter knife can cut through the tension

The whole thing with Haytham and Connor is less tense than this

But what can you even do?

How in thick do you talk to him and how can he even talk to you?

Your 18 and in university, he’s 25 and was a bartender in New York before apparently sacrificing himself for the world

He’s closer in age to being a big brother rather than your dad.

But even besides that he’s been long dead and gone since 2012

It’s been years since that point and more importantly he’s someone important and your not

He’s an assassin born to a bloodline of other assassins

Someone who was raised in this tradition with greatness not only in his origin but also in his death

And your you

A child born from a one night stand who’s only achievement is being good at knowing about old people

It hurts but it’s true

If he’s a star then your a candle compared to his light

A mere blip or spark to the greater picture

There had been times he looked like he wanted to say something but you scurry away before he can say anything

Sometimes you catch the looks and small gestures Ezio tries to make as if to encourage him to go up to you

How Connor sometimes brings up to you how he wishes for reconciliation with his dad and that perhaps it’s possible with your own

Altair not beating around the bush and plainly telling both him and you to talk

But it all feels for naught and dies when those feelings and thoughts return

But eventually he corners you

Well not really corners you per say but he catches you as you leave your study after a talk with Altair

“Listen I don’t have any grudge against you. For one you died, I’d be a dick if I blamed you for that or your decision to save the world and whatever. Second you didn’t know about me in the first place” you say briefly looking up at him before averting your gaze, he looks like he wants to say something but he can’t get a word out before you continue “but you don’t have to act like my dad or anything. You never asked for me, it was a mistake, I was a mistake and I’m fine with it.” (Your lying to yourself)

You leave before he can get a word out, and he’s left alone in the hallway. When he returns to Ezio he just sits down in silence. It’s enough for everyone to know I didn’t go the way he wanted.

Admittedly when you begin to notice odd figures at the achieves you write it off

I mean it could literally be anyone plus the supervisors aren’t making a fuss about them here

If anything their welcoming them and looking at them with hopeful eyes

Small glances full of opportunities in them

It’s odd but maybe their just some non-profit here to support the archive

Or even private benefactors of sorts

But then they turn their attention to you

Plastic smiles on their faces, artificial pleasantries as their main spokeswoman sits in front of you in a slick suit

Her stilettos tapping against the ground as your eyes trail to her bodyguards of sorts

They stand not too close nearby

Watching

Waiting

And then she begins talking

And slowly you grow more and more uncomfortable

Hands playing with one another, fingers twitching in your palm as crescent are indebted in your skin

They apparently are interested in your findings

In your research

But more specifically you

They’ve researched you…a lot

Down from where your mother was born to her great great something grandfather

And your father

…but that’s not public knowledge

It wasn’t even on your birth certificate

This….this isn’t

She smiles though now the darkness melts away into something more knowing

Dangerous and sadistic of sorts

And it’s there on her little pin showing her name you recognize the logo

Within your house you’d vaguely heard whispers of the others talking in hushed tones

You didn’t mind

The less you know the better in that sense

Out of sight and out of mind

But sometimes you’d hear the mumbles of a name that you didn’t put together until now

One spat with venom just as they did with the word of the Templar

Abstergo

You barely have time to react before your black bagged and sufficiently knocked out

Mind drifting to that of panic

What would happen to you?

What will happen when the others find out?

But then those thoughts fade away into the dark void of sleep

When you wake up things are odd

Everything is a sterile white and too bright for your foggy sleep tinged eyes

The room is blurred as is your senses as you weightlessly drift

Everything feels odd

And then it happens sharp and pure pain that leaves you writhing and screaming into the void

And that’s when you notice that white light had left and your in a void of sorts

Empty glitching effects all around you as your left to look around in confusion until you see something

A memory? Specifically one of your memories

Your staring at a simulation of sorts of your past self

A 8 year old in their bed with chubby cheeks pulled up into a melancholy smile

You recognize this moment, your small hands holding a picture that had long been put away into a scrapbook and forgotten

Your left wordless and confused

And then that bitch’s voice appears again and she explains

This entire thing is a simulation of your memories

And essentially their gonna go through your head picking through them to not only learn what they want but then use you as their lab rat cause of your bloodline.

Cause apparently memories of your ancestors could be accessed that way and it was generally easier to have a descendant rather than finding objects and artifacts

And it’s there in that simulation it feels like your mind is being ripped apart

Memories ripped from your mind to play out in front of you as she makes comments and documents them before their forced back in and another is ripped out

Like book having pages torn out and then crudely stitched back in

It hurts so damn much

Over and over

Your just left in screaming again on the ground of this simulated world as she makes idol comments

Left begging for it to stop

For someone to help

For the love of god someone help you make it stop

Of course this would happen to you

You’ve always had shit luck despite your whole family motto being “make your own luck”

What utter bullshit

You can’t make good luck from bad

Can’t just change things when the scales are already tipped one way

But then like a miracle from above she goes quiet and suddenly the memory is gone

And your left in the void still reeling from it all

Still on the glitching ground before once more white encompasses your view

Blinding and bright as your still recovering

And then an unfamiliar voice tunes in

“Your safe” it’s heavily accented, in an Irish twang that’s soft as he says these words to you. A reminder that your ok now, it’s over. “Can you walk?”

You try to look at him with squinting eyes yet they still can’t adjust, your limbs feel heavy like solid rock. Unmoving even as you try. With some difficulty you shake your head

“Aight, I’ll have you carry you then. Are you alright with that?”

“Just get me out of here…please. I just want to go home, I miss my family” it sounds pathetic but as tears begin to fall the stranger doesn’t seem to think Ill of you.

“Don’t worry, I get what that’s like.” The tone is sympathetic and like before is soft “you’ll be home I no time, I promise”

You think for a moment before responding “I trust you”. For a second you feel him go still at that before he picks you up.

For awhile there’s buzzing alarms and panic as your saviour gets you out whoever’s you were taken too

There’s not a moment of silence as he sharply runs and dodges past what you think to be gunshots

Occasionally he grumbles something but for the most part he seems calm

Composed despite the chaos of it all

So much so that it makes you wonder if this is an average Tuesday for him

There’s so much shout and yelling for your already pounding head

But sometimes the yells are silenced as the sound of a blade cuts it short

Footsteps far behind eventually stopping

Sirens getting more and more distant and allowing you and the man to breath

It’s there in the pocket of silence you learn his name

Shay

It sounds familiar, like really familiar yet you can’t put your finger on it

Either way your grateful because how can you not be?

Your away from that place

Away from the torture of having your mind picked apart like a lab experiment

Having the privacy of your memories looked at and prodded

But now your somewhat okay

Your eyes feel weird, your vision feels weird like it keeps switching between something

Your at least somewhat able to walk though it’s unbalanced

but Shay doesn’t seem to mind

He offers an arm that you cling to for support

A kind smile on his face as he makes sure you didn’t injure yourself further

And then you notice his clothes are….old

Like Haytham and Connor level old

And…shit

It’s halfway home through the trails you recognize due to Connor that your vision changes

The world feels bigger as if your third eyes opened or something

Shays figure and presence is highlighted in a clover green

And perched nearby is another green figure, one waiting for a good moment

Shay follows your sight before promptly having to duck out the way from a knife that flies at his head

He pushes you back behind him, you stumble back vision switch between monochrome and normal as someone else grabs you

Instinctively you almost yell before realizing who was now helping keep you steady

And the other person now attacking Shay

“Connor! He’s good! He saved me!”

“He’s a Templar!”

“So is Haytham and you haven’t killed him…again have you!”

At that Shay pauses, turning to look at you with confusion as Connor stops his attempt as slitting his throat

Ezio on the other hand helps you up but keeps a firm protective grip

Watching Shays movements like Connor in apprehension before the two settle down and stare at you for more detail

Both waiting on your word

“He saved me and today has been a long ass day-“

“You’ve been gone for 4 days”

You pause momentarily at that before adding “long 4 ass days of having my mind literally ripped apart. Can we please head back to the house and settle this there? Thank you”.

The moment you get back your almost immediately tackled to the ground by a familiar white and red hoodie wearing absent (dead) father

It’s….odd but nice

Desmond (still feels too awkward to call him dad) is holding you like a lifeline and you notice bags beneath his eyes

He looks like hell

But none of the others are any better either

They all like positively exhausted yet light up when seeing your safe

Your home

It reminds you of your mom when you returned home from school

The long work day evident on her brow but her smile lighting up the room at the sight of your face

It’s no different compared to then except for the fact they all (except Haytham) then protectively pull you away from the nearby Shay who’s being glowered at by Connor

Safe to say it’s a little awkward until you somehow pull free of Desmond’s death grip hobble your ass between the two lone Templars and Assassins

A long discussion having to take place between them all as you not only explain what happened but also it seems you all forget one crucial thing

It seems you forgot about your mom’s side of the family

Whoop de Doo you have more things to process and so does everyone else here

Specifically Connor and Haytham Because before apparently knew (or know of) Shay

Great, another complex relationship in this household like there needed to be more of that

But with this entire situation it also highlights something bigger

Your not safe

None of you are safe

Perhaps you never truly were

And that in turns leaves you with the difficult decision of what to do next

Because In this difficult game of politics between two ever warring groups your a neutral force

You wanted to stay that way but unfortunately fate had other plans

as your drug into this game your left with limited options of sides for not only yourself but for the others who seem keen on following you

Even the two (former?) templars seem to follow your decision

So When Des…er your dad suggests finding his old friends it seems like the best option

It’s either that or be kidnapped and prodded again and who knows what abstergo will do to everyone else (even one’s that once upon a time we’re on their side)

Besides, he says you’ll get along well with someone named Shaun so It can’t be too bad

So he sends out a message and you leave the home you find yourself look at with melancholy

It stopped being a home when mom died but now it seemed like it was just that again

Only time can tell what will bring upon you next

But….you think you’ll be ready for whatever is thrown at you when you have this odd group of family at your side

The expression of blood is thicker than water never really held much weight since you only ever had your mom until she was gone

But maybe you understand it a bit better now

#platonic #assassins creed x reader #assassins creed imagine #desmond miles x reader #ezio auditore x reader #ezio x reader #altair x reader #connor kenway x reader #haytham kenway x reader #shay cormac x reader #edward kenway x reader

[crispyjenkins]

(AC wip) The Savage Price of Piety

it's desmond's deathday and i wrote like. 9,000 more words to this wip (first two parts here) last week and i want to brag about it, so happy deathday you wet bastard (mostly gen but with a surprise rarepair, time travel/reincarnation, found family, william miles’ a+ parenting, accidental subterfuge, desmond goes by miles mostly, inspired by study of flight by @esamastation but with a twist!, only somewhat historically accurate swears by which i mean probably not at all but leonardo had some Opinions alright) have some (three) chronological but scattered bits of scenes

  “Oh,” Claudia says as soon as she opens the door, seeing Ezio’s rather wretched expression, “you’ve figured it out, then.”

  “You could have told me,” he growls, following her into the entryway and closing the door behind himself. 

  Claudia scoffs, spinning on heel to lead the way further into the building for the kitchens. “I had one conversation with the boy, brother, I was hardly sure of it myself. Wait,” she halts and points a finger at him accusingly, “how did you figure it out?”

  Ezio, quite graciously he thinks, ignores the subtle insult to his intelligence. Sighing, he pushes back his hood before their mother sees him with it on indoors, and runs a hand over his beard. “I had Leonardo visit.”

  Claudia’s face slackens, before twisting into a rage that has Ezio stepping away warily.

  But she punches the wall instead of her brother, a shouted “Gods damn it!” echoing in the narrow space. Then she spins on her heel and hollers further into the residential part of the bordello, “Mother! We forgot about Leonardo!”

  Horrified by his sister and concerned for his mother’s current mental state, Ezio reaches out to put a hand on Claudia’s arm, but he doesn’t get the chance before Maria de' Auditore is shouting right back, “God damn it!”

  Grumbling, Claudia stomps down the hall and leaves a very confused Ezio hurrying to follow; she ignores all his pleas for explanation until she’s stomped into the kitchen, where their mother is pouring two very large glasses of wine, with very little water to cut down the potency. She passes one to Claudia silently, and then they both drink, though luckily they aren’t attempting to down it all at once.

  “I can’t believe we forgot the Maestro,” their mother mutters to herself as she comes over to kiss Ezio on both cheeks, before shoving the still mostly-full glass into his hands.

  “Forgot him for what?” Ezio wants to know, clutching the glass like a mother clutches a babe.

  “To test if Miles really is an Auditore.” It’s said so flippantly, like it doesn’t affect Claudia at all, but she also collapses into one of two chairs at the little tea table under the largest window. Their mother takes the other, massaging her forehead and looking like she’s grieving their family all over again.

  It occurs to Ezio, as he moves to stand next to the table, that she probably is.

--

“It’s all up to you now, Seventeen.”

  Desmond opens his eyes to the dark of the dormitory, faint moonlight cutting over the floor between his bed and Nino’s, and he can’t bring himself to move — even to roll off his arm that is very much still asleep. 

  Clay still haunts him.

  Five hundred fucking years, and his current twenty-four besides, and that fucker still won’t leave him alone. If Desmond were not so familiar with what an actual Bleed feels like, he’d almost think Clay is stuck in his brain the same way as his ancestors. Thank fuck he stopped Bleeding Ezio’s memories and feelings, while still retaining much of the training.

  Fuck, time travel is so weird.

  Or, reincarnation? He’s not sure of much, but he’s sure he was dead, he’s sure he burned, and he’s sure that though his 15th century mother had affectionately called him [redacted], his name is Desmond Miles.

  Or just Miles, he supposes. Sue him, he panicked when Adele first approached him, and the best aliases are ones you know you’ll respond to, right? If only he’d have had the forethought to divorce himself from his... future family’s surname.

  It sounds different enough with an Italian accent that it hasn’t caused any problems, yet. Like making him flinch. Or snapping that he hasn’t been a Miles since he was sixteen.

  Granted, he still has no idea what he would go by instead. Altaïr and Conner would feel weird, while Sef or Darim are just a bit on the nose, and does he look like an Edward? Malik, maybe. His grandmother here, now, is actually from the Levant, so his skin is certainly dark enough that people wouldn’t be surprised by the name.

Except that feels almost akin to naming himself Leonardo.

--

  So instead, Leonardo spends every spare moment with his best friend, sometimes to brainstorm, sometimes to simply be there for him. It’s during one of these visits, he and Ezio once again observing the youngest assassins in the training ring, that he hears Miles laugh for the first time, and it’s as if ice water has been poured directly into his veins.

  Oh fuck. Oh Saints, oh Holy Father, oh fuck.

  “Leonardo?” Ezio asks quietly, head tilted towards him in concern, but Leonardo ignores him to stumble for the bannister to lean over it and stare down at Miles learning a little jig from Tullio, laughing all the while.

  He had only heard it once, truth be told, and it had been Salaí that had caused it, but even three years later, Leonardo remembers the laugh of Rodrigo Borgia’s sinister little shadow.

  Below, Miles doesn’t stop smiling, but his golden brown gaze yanks up towards Leonardo as if knowing his thoughts are about him. His eyes narrow, then widen slightly in realisation, and then he winces and looks away, which is all the confirmation Leonardo needs.

  Turning around, Leonardo grabs a confused Ezio by the arm and drags him from the training room, ignoring his protests until they find the nearest empty room.

  “Leonardo, what—?”

  “Romulus.”

-

#that last one 👀 #the first one is part of my sib's favorite scene so far #middle one is just des being a Mess #crispy writes #also #absolutely do NOT think about the timeline i beg u #i am gay and Tired #savage price #that'll be the tag for all posts about this fic #if i do end up posting more #anyway the other posts are now tagged with it too #not star wars #for those that filter on my blog #title from poor isaac by airborne toxic event! #which was my 2nd most-listened-to song this year #yoinking some tags from the last posts: #this whole fic is based on the trope of time travel des not knowing how to lie for shit and people making assumptions (à la study of flight #except their assumptions turn out to be mostly right #des isn't ezio's kid tho 👀

[oceanic316]

A very short analysis of all* the dads and daddy issues on lost

*Considering every character that was a main character

Daniel

Charles widmore- complete sociopath in many ways, only met Daniel when he was an adult to manipulate him into going to the island on which he would be killed by his mother which Charles witnessed

Boone

Split up with his mother at some point, was clearly left with a nanny frequently enough to kill her, definitely has unresolved issues with his dead stepfather as he fell in love with the stepsister

Miles,

Very obvious dad issues from being raised without him present. Did get to meet him but he was a bit of a dick tbh. I guess he did love him but too little too late

Michael

Little known about his dad but only his mum was looking after Walt off island. His role as a dad could be interpreted as daddy issues

Ana Lucia

Deffo has mommy issues but the lack of clear father figure points to possible daddy issues as does her time with Christian

Charlotte

Goes to shithole island to try to discover her father who was never there. Clearly has daddy issues regardless of her fathers (unknown) quality.

Frank

Has issues but there’s every chance they are NOT daddy issues. Good for him

Shannon

He’s dead and his widow is a terrible stepmother. Daddy issues up to here-may have contributed to her sleeping with her brother

Desmond

He had to raise his siblings so this points again to an absent (at the very least emotionally) father. Daddy issues

Eko

Had to raise his brother suggesting a largely absent father who wasn’t around much

Kate

Blew up her real father due to his general terribleness, her stepfather was in the army so probably has issues over him not being around all that much even though he seems like an alright guy

Jack

Jacks daddy issues regarding Christian are basically a main plot point of the show and even made it into the finale. Points to Christian for feeding into a lot of the characters daddy issues

Sawyer

Dear Mr Sawyer… probably the nastiest daddy issues, doesn’t really get much worse than murder suicide with your kid under the bed. All of sawyers bad bits are due to his daddy issues. Also has daddy issue ties to Christian and Anthony

Locke

Attempted murder was a pretty bad look from Anthony as was the kidney theft. Anthony traveled across the world giving kids daddy issues left right and centre, despite only Locke being shown as his biological kid

Ben

Skeletor was not a great dad and is a key reason captain bunny killer is so messed up. Also bens habit of adopting children (Ethan, Alex) is likely linked to his own crappy upbringing

Sayid

His dad the war hero gave him some toxic masculinity problems, sayid not killing a chicken is our only main clue but it was pretty dark

Libby

Like everything involving Libby’s past, her parents are a big mystery. She does have dead husband issues?

Sun

Mr Paik for sure messed Sun up. His treatment of Jin and his general murdery tendency affected sun not only as a child but also screwed up her marriage

Jin

Jins dad is the nicest guy on the list, but jin had intense daddy issues due to his shame and being raised by a single father.

Claire

Christian really putting it out of the park here! Being the result of an affair involving an American doctor cannot have been fun and his absence in her life probably didn’t help with her wanting to give Aaron up. Also may have contributed to her not trusting Charlie that much

Hurley

David Reyes is an asshole, but he’s a pretty run of the mill, leave my family and don’t come back til there’s money, but he made the most effort to fix things. Hugo has big daddy issues tho

Juliet

Pretty standard daddy issues but her parents divorce clearly stayed with her and led her into some pretty unhealthy relationships later on in life

Charlie

Charlie’s dad seems like quite a nice guy if I’m honest but his older brother messed him up enough I’m happy to say Charlie has something very close emotionally to daddy issues

Richard

Too much of an enigma for a strong analysis but imma go out on a limb and say yes

Bernard

I don’t think so?

Rose

She seems pretty well adjusted so I think no

Vincent

Everyone on the island has been his dad at some point- probably missed Walt his original dad a lot

#lost #lost tv #lost abc #lost show #daddy issues #Christian shepherd #jack shephard #john locke #kate austen #daniel faraday #boone carlyle #miles straume #desmond hume #james sawyer ford #hugo reyes

[hashtagdrivebywrites]

Hello, yes, howdy, welcome to...

✨Hashtag's Fic Masterlist✨

A little about me:

She/her pronouns

I write and sometimes make art

Here is my Ao3!

Asks are open! or you can drop me a message if you want to

I like ask games, but I might be late or accidentally lose track of them before I can respond to them (whoops!)

I'm into a lot of stuff so this blog/page/black hole will be a mixed bag of fandoms

[Updated April 12, 2024] - Fic links below:

Published, In Progress:

Imprint (DPxDC) (Baby G.K. Danny, Halfa Dad Jason, Fright Franklin Pickle Girl Knight, oddball co-parents, attempted qpr relationship) 4/12: Back in the saddle and *hyped* for this arc, y'all have no idea.

Meandros (AC: 3 x AC: Odyssey) (Time travel/Reincarnation, Kid Desmond, OC's, Deimos!Kassandra, dumb mercenaries with a big bro/dad complex, Desmond "I'm Done" Miles) 4/12: Picked up working on the draft again! Fingers crossed I can do a double update with Imprint!

Published, Complete:

As Long as Stars are Above You (TMNT (mostly Bayverse and Next Mutation)) (Family Fluff, Surprise Baby Acquisition, Good Big Bros, Momma April) 15 Chapters; 39k words; Sequel in progress

Our Mother Breathed Fire (GOT) (Dragon POV, kind of a character study? I don't know) 1 Shot; 2k words

Your Blood That I Bleed (AC 1, 2 & 3) (Family of Choice, Immortality, Cat Dad Desmond, Assassin Dads) 10 Chapters; 74k Words

"In The Drawer" - On Hiatus until I can give it the attention it needs:

A Place For Us (Batman (mostly Arkham Knight)) (Families of Choice, Kids, Adoption, Bat Fam coming back together) 4/12: My first fic on Ao3 and it's been set aside for a complete overhaul because there's no structure/direction and there's a lot of issues with how I was writing/presenting the characters.

Unpublished, In Progress:

And Longer Still If I Can - sequel to As Long As Stars Are Above You (TMNT) (Family and Found Family, Kid Fic, Adventure Fic, Larval Form Mutanimals) 4/12: About a third of the way through the whole story. I'm taking my time with this one because I've lost the drafts for it twice and have had to write it three times now, but I'm hoping I can finish it soon.

Red Devil Rowdy (title may change; DPxDCxSDxSPN) (Paranormal Mystery/Detective Fic, Family Reveal, Identity Reveal) 4/12: Plotting! Familiarizing myself with the genre and trying to get a better grasp on the characters. The first chapter draft has started but it's rough.

And Still You Stand, Sturdy and Smelling of Smoke (DC x Spider-man) (Peter Parker Fist Fights the League, Catatonic Jason, Hyper Independent Tim) 4/12: On pause for a second. Gotta figure out where I want this to go.

Shield and Hearth (title will change; DSxTMNT) (Time Travel, Older Turtles (21), Mom Friend April, Gratuitous Use of "Bro", "Dude" and "Yo") 4/12: Hoping to add this one to the next update on Ao3 with Imprint and Meandros! (Still trying to think of a better title)

Holy War is On The Phone (DPxMHA/BNHA) (Ghost Prince Danny, Undercover Investigation, Fake Family, Pissed Off Danny) 4/12: On pause!

Redline (DCxMHA/BNHA) (Robin!Jason, Jason has the Metagene, Accidental Dimension Travel, Pro-Heroes/Older Class 1-A)

4/12: On pause to work out the final arc outline.

#Hashtag's fics #ao3 #Holy shit I finally made one of these #Will add a tag guide later when I go back and adjust tags in everything relevant #Hope I did this right

[shylittlefr0g]

Hello friends.

I have an idea. (From an AU)

I been playing Ace Attorney from a while (I complete the first game and my friend gift me the trilogy, so im playing the other two games) and I still having a hyperfijation with SxF (atleast from now). So, lets combine them.

If you don't play Phoenix Wright, Ace Attorney, you should play it, I recomend it. (and watch out, because i gonna give a few spoilers about the games and they history).

Let's begin.

Let's explain the characters and WHY I choose them.

Anya Forger (as Phoenix Wright):

- Ex-art student on collage, with a terrible ex-boyfriend.

- She became a lawyer after being saved by Sylvia (the Mia Fey of this universe) and having a crush on the-one-shouldn't-be-mentioned (Damian)

- Terrible lawyer, with a horrible luck, and mostly being save because of someone else or when her two neurons make contact the evidence.

- George (Larry) is her best friend, and in her first trial, she must save his ass.

- She actually doesn't look like a lawyer, because she is poor (?), so she has to use an old suit from his father (the green one) with some arrangement to be from her size made them by her mom (disastrous, but it works)

Damian Desmond (as Miles Edgeworth):

- Traumatized.

- He still having a crush on Anya, but he prefer be punched on the ribs that say "I love you" to her.

- After they first real encounter (the second case) Damian send his butler (Ewen) and his personal tailor to make her a good suit (because he wants that his rival to look presentable on court... Because he hates her!)

- Emile (Gumshoe) is his right-hand man, he trust blindly on him (and that's why when Emile misses something, he cuts his salary)

- Wanted to be a lawyer like his mother, but now he only has traumas.

Becky Blackbell (as Franziska Von Karma)

- SHE HAS A WHIP.

- SHE IS A GIRLBOSS.

- She isn't part of the family Desmond (she conserves her lastname) because she is Damian's cousin who wants to revenge the figure of Donovan Desmond.

- The option B is that Franziska is Demetrius, but i like Becky more because she has a whip and can whip Anya on the middle of the court. Pretty fun character.

- She isn't the bestie of Anya on this universe, but they got respect for eachother (Becky considers that she is a very capable woman and fights to achieve her goals, just like her.)

George Glooman (as Larry Butz)

- Idiot.

- He only could be a cheated, accused of murder, and get away with it, all in at least 24 hours.

- He isn't a big friend with Damian since they were kids and they argued about who is gonna takes Anya's hand to marriage. (spoiler: nobody remembers it clearly, they just hate each other because they are idiots.)

- Like Larry, he ended up being an artist.

Sylvia Sherwood:

- Mia Fey for this universe.

- really intelegent.

- Helped Anya on the past and became her tutor/friend when she decided be a lawyer.

- Still watching Anya since Ken (The Maya of this universe) and her became partners.

- She and Ken are family (aunt/nephew), when she has to keep info, she invites him to eat something. After the first trial, Anya and they were going out to eat, but something happen.

Ken Sherwood (as Maya Fey)

- Took Sylvia lastname.

- symptom of "being at the wrong time and place"

- He was arrested more times that you could imagined.

- Esper still on training. (Always in his hippie-clothes so gets bullied by that)

- Only can use his powers when the situation is crítical. (Only in contact with Mia because she is from his bloodline)

Melinda and Donovan Desmond:

- Melinda (32) was a really good defense lawyer who makes everything to get a Not Guilty sentence. Loved by everyone.

- Her husband, by the other hand, wasn't loved by everyone, mostly because of his tactics has a prosecutor where... Well, you know, cuestionables.

- They had two sons. Demetrius and Damian.

- Melinda was killed by someone non-identified on a elevator. Right infront Damian.

- Since then, Donovan raised his youngest son to be a bastard at court (just like him).

...Play Ace Attorney, pirated Nintendo is morally correct.

#spy x family #anya forger #damian desmond #damianya #becky blackbell #emile elman #ewen egeburg #loid forger #alternative universe #henry henderson #yuri briar #ace attorney #not really #sorry #fanfic #spy x family anya #spy x family fanfiction #spy x family au #franky franklin

[victusinveritas]

Patrick Pearse spent much of the last summer of his life (1915) in Rosmuck, Connemara with his brother Willie and a friend named Desmond Ryan.

It was a relaxed holiday although Pearse found the time to write one of Ireland's most famous speeches - 'Ireland unfree shall never be at peace,' spoken at the graveside of O'Donovan Rossa and considered by many as a key moment in the lead up to the Easter Rising.

Ryan recalled the summer fondly:

"The next day we proceeded to Rosmuck by train, or rather part of the way, for Rosmuck lies nine miles from a railway station, and we had a long drive by side-car through granite and peat from Maam Cross Station over winding, peak-screened roads.

It was a stirring view along those serpentine roads, ever winding and twisting to avoid the bog.

The horse trotted bravely while an O’Malley drove, and Pearse explained what famous people the O’Malleys were in Connemara.

All the while, bluish granite mountains soared and all around spread the peat-bogs starred by the tiny lakes, each with a local name and every name known to Pearse, who declared for the hundredth time he could find his way blindfold on any road in Connacht.

The Twelve Bens came in sight and Pearse waved his hand here and there over the land, naming lake, mountain and district away to the Joyce Country under its purple mist.

He told us many stories he had learned from the people.

Away there on that gloomy mountain yonder a stranger had lived for years, coming suddenly in the night from nowhere, henceforth a hermit, perhaps doing a penance of solitude and silence for some deed of blood.

We passed a peculiar green building of corrugated iron, a Protestant Church, [Screebe?] and then Pearse remembered that many years before the Bible Societies had carried out a proselytising campaign, and even in 1915 a small remnant of the Irish-speaking Protestant colonies still survived.

Once on his rambles, Pearse had met one of the members, an old man up in a cottage among the hills who opened his Gaelic Bible, read it aloud and argued with Pearse for an hour until the old man’s daughter came in and told her father that he had no manners and that he did not know how to treat a learned man who knew enough Irish and enough Bible to make up his mind for himself, and the attempted conversion of Pearse went no further.

A lonely letter-box on a post at a crossroads led Pearse to tell of the extravagant family, long bankrupt and extinct, who had had the box erected as a monument to their exclusiveness, recklessness and pride.

A barracks rose beside the rattling wheels and Pearse knew that the sergeant within was a crusty and cantankerous fellow companioned by six splendid constables, enthusiastic Irish speakers who spent their time in shooting wild ducks, fishing and studying with zeal the poems of Eoghan Ruadh O’Sullivan.

The car stopped at the schoolmaster’s house and Patrick Connolly welcomed Pearse warmly. His wife came out too.

Inside like startled birds, the four daughters of the schoolmaster retreated from our gaze while their mother laughed and said they would grow out of all that, but when young people lived among lakes and bogs they became curlews and mountain birds, easily startled by wild young men from the cities and poets from Dublin, all this for Willie and me whose ties and locks must have startled her ducklings.

We proceeded to the cottage, a white, thatched, oblong building with green

door, porchway and two windows in front, approached by a peat-sodded path from the main road. Here was the spiritual home of Pearse, which in the last years he visited every summer to pay a last farewell.

Below lay a fifty-acre lake legend tenanted with a Water Horse.

Beyond the rare walls of the cottage, the Atlantic heaved and moaned with tales of lost ships or murmured a summons to ride on its bosom to the Aran Isles on a fair day.

On every side rose the purple hills and peat, agleam with unnumbered lakelets. Pearse sat at the kitchen table writing the closing tales in his book of short stories, 'The Mother.'

He turned aside to discuss the completed stories with Willie and me, and said he thought the best the grimmest one, a tale of a woman under a curse called the “Black Chafer.”

Then he sighed that he had never written a story about turf or shown up enough the

hard life of the people. He said this sadly with almost the air of a man who all at once comes upon an intolerable personal grievance.

Sometimes he went down and bathed in the lake while Willie guarded him from the banks with a long, strong rope as Pearse was no swimmer. This tickled the brothers so much that they gave up the attempt with loud merriment and mutual criticisms.

Returning, Pearse mused on his cottage and said that one of the builders had been an old man who took his task very slowly and seriously, making progress by inches, but consoling Pearse’s impatience with the sole remark:

“Won’t it be a fine house when it is finished. Indeed it will be a fine house when it is finished.”

Pearse was more outspoken than I had ever known him before.

Night by night he spoke to Willie and me about everything by turns.

Much about the future of the Irish language. Here in this self-contained community which he had once known as purely Irish-speaking, English was creeping in among the younger generation.

It amused him when we walked abroad in the day-time to speak to the men working

the land and smile at the English expressions speckling the Gaelic:

“Becripes, tá . . . bedamned but tá...' from those who knew no other words of English, but he said this was the beginning of the end unless some great change came.

And what the change would be sometimes broke through his thoughts...

Who could have guessed that behind his gentle words and look, an insurrection simmered, a certainty that his days were irrevocably numbered and in this place he would never see in another summer?"

Pictured above are Patrick Pearse and his brother Willie, neither of whom would live to see the summer of 1916.

Taken from Desmond Ryan's 1934 auto-biography 'Remembering Sion.'

All of this was taken whole cloth from The History of Connemara Facebook group.

#irish studies #irish history

[teecupangel]

Do we have a Phonenix yet in the menagire? We need one.

Phoenix!Desmond, probably looking like a normal bird for the most part, and stays with Sef when they go after the mongols (Altair probably thinks he's getting too old he looked a bit ratty lately) and takes the hit when Swami tries to kill him.

Idk whether to have this crack or angest with them thinking Desmond died, had a chick, and was apparently a female bird the entire time.

Okay, so I was checking the Phoenix wiki page for any information if it would be possible that Altaïr would know what a phoenix is and there’s this part written by Herodotus (yes, Kassandra’s Herodotos)

[The Egyptians] have also another sacred bird called the phoenix which I myself have never seen, except in pictures. Indeed it is a great rarity, even in Egypt, only coming there (according to the accounts of the people of Heliopolis) once in five hundred years, when the old phoenix dies. Its size and appearance, if it is like the pictures, are as follow: The plumage is partly red, partly golden, while the general make and size are almost exactly that of the eagle. They tell a story of what this bird does, which does not seem to me to be credible: that he comes all the way from Arabia, and brings the parent bird, all plastered over with myrrh, to the temple of the Sun, and there buries the body.

… which may be a reference to Bennu, the Egyptian deity connected to the sun, creation, and rebirth.

So Altaïr would meet him during his travels with Maria and he just stays. They assume he’s an exotic bird (or eagle), maybe a native to one of the places Altaïr and Maria visited.

Altaïr never told them that the bird flew into his room one night and began to chirp at him as if trying to tell him something. He also tried to tap the Apple but all it did was glow a bit.

The bird had been quite annoyed by it and began to hit it with his talons so quickly the Apple had a taptaptaptaptap sound rapidly before Altaïr could take the Apple.

After that, the bird just decided to sit on Altaïr’s shoulder when he left his room the following morning and Maria assumed he had bought the bird yesterday when they went their separate ways.

Her guess sounded so much better than the truth which was Altaïr spent the entire day yesterday holed up in his room, writing letters to be sent back to Masyaf as part of his deal with Malik in exchange for letting him go on this trip (which was to send letters detailing the geopolitical situations of the places he travels to with suggestion on what the Brotherhood should do in those parts… if they could do anything).

So nobody ever questioned the mentor’s newly acquired bird (except Malik but Malik had been more focused on the ex-Templar that Altaïr brought to Masyaf and married).

Then Darim and Sef were born and the bird (named Desmond because Altaïr thought of the name first when Maria asked what the bird’s name was) usually stayed with the children, letting out loud screeching cries whenever one of the two children were doing something they shouldn’t do.

When they got older, Darim and Sef learned the word ‘bribe’ and how Desmond can be easily bribed to look the other way in favor of delicious food.

Desmond stayed in Masyaf though, regardless if Altaïr or any of his sons left for a mission or to travel to a bureau. At some point, the bird had become a symbol of Brotherhood with its gold and red plumage.

So when Altaïr left with Maria and Darim to take down Genghis Khan, it was only natural for Desmond to stay with Sef in Masyaf.

Altaïr had been a bit conflicted though as Desmond’s feathers had grown quite… dull and he was moving slower than usual.

Maria and Malik both told them that Desmond was growing old and maybe it was time but the Ibn-La'Ahad boys refused to believe that.

Darim also believed that they might find medicine in one of the camps of the Mongols as they have been to many lands.

So when Desmond flew to protect Sef and got stabbed on the chest by Swami, Swami screamed as Desmond became shrouded in flames.

Swami burned as well and Sef could only watch in horror as white hot flames consumed the both of them.

Swami was left as a corpse charred beyond recognition.

While Desmond…

Only ashes remained…

And from those ashes…

Sef heard a small chirp.

As a little chick with red and gold plumage poked his head out of the ashes, shaking the ash from his small body.

Sef could only stare as he asked, “Desmond?”

And the bird gave him an enthusiastic chirp while jumping.

#ngl #super tempted to make desmond a female bird and have him freak out when he suddenly plopped an egg #we can go for the ‘his ancestors get reborn too as his children’ route #and the eggs stay dormant #until the death of his ancestors #so desmond’s gonna be the mother of a flock of phoenix(es) #desmond is turned into an animal subgenre #desmond is turned into a creature subgenre #ask and answer #assassin's creed #desmond miles #teecup writes/has a plot #fic idea: assassin's creed #altaïr ibn la'ahad #sef ibn la'ahad

[fromashesweriseuphiddenones]

Day Three

Haytham watched his son grow up from afar. The boy was bright and egare to please but any time he tried to earn affection from William, the boy was ignored. If he did something wrong the boy was punished serverly. If he did what he was supposed to... nothing.

It angered Haytham to no end to watch his precious and sweet boy's spirit be constantly broken. He was afraid he may have to step in somehow down the line to ensure no more harm came to his son.

Kayana knew Haytham was angry. He had every right to be. He expected that his son would be safe and loved. Safe, yeah right. Loved, far from it. She did love Desmond, and often showed it but William was getting tense with her.

#assassins creed #desmond miles #desmond miles' mother #haytham kenway #change the course

[simptasia]

You know what i've been thinking about? If Aaron was raised on the island, what would his accent be? Cause you see all those studies of the people of multiple countries coming together in remote places having children and their accents are something unheard of. Totally new accent. So by that would Aaron's accent be something like that? A mash of British/Australian/American/Korean/Iraqi/ whatever is wrong with Ben, like a totally new accent. Of course, I'm just condensing like Sawyer has his YeeHaw accent and Mike has a more New York, Hurley is Mexican and while he has an American accent in English when Speaking Spanish It's probably not that sooooo I'm just so curious on if they never left what the fuck their accent would be like. Plus, if they stayed on the island and Jin Suns kid was born there and in the future more babies would they inherit the same accent? Like say in this scenario Juliet/Sawyer or Kate/Jack or even fucking Charlie/desmond had children would they too inherit this new dialect/Accent thats contained to them only?Like would they create their own unique accent?, and when Aaron gets older he gets with Ji Yeon (which is so funny like the show runners were like yeah at the end they're still watching Bluey, we should totally imply they get together as adults) So if they hypothetically do get together in this idea where they never leave the island would their children help develop this complete unique accent?

funnily enough, you're pretty much describing what caused the australian accent to begin with. they plopped a ton of english and irish people here, added alcohol and a brand new fucked up way to talk was born

yes, studies show that a child's accent comes more from their enviroment more than their parents! hence why i have an adelaide aussie accent rather than my mum's southern english accent. because i grew up here. this also explains why daniel sounds american as opposed to his english mother. thats actually how it works (tho daniel also went to oxford during his teens so he should sound at least a bit more english but be glad we were spared jeremy attempting that)

i like this idea!

okay so, i think in regular world of lost, aaron grows up to have an american accent but with aussie turns of phrase. because i imagine aaron to be raised by claire and kate, in america. and also sawyer, miles, richard and frank are part of his life too. so claire is really outnumbered here. but he refers to her as "mum"

in this au where everybody stays on the island forever? ...probably still american because holy shit theres a lot of americans on this show but you're right, it could be at least a little muddled. i don't think it'd turn into an immediate frankenstein melting pot of aussie, england (north and south), american (yeehaw and otherwise), korean, iraqi and scottish because thats not exactly how accents work, it would take longer. but certain words and phrases would mix in aaron and ji yeon's (and the other hypothetical babies) little brains. and like certain pronunciations would probably be off. like, they'd be somewhat uncanny. also it's probable that these versions of aaron and ji would be so fucking good at accent impressions. oh and in this world, i like to think aaron can speak korean because he'd hear it around him a lot

so i think yeah the next gen in that AU would sound like,,, kinda weird sounding americans? so basically canadians

i've done my own recreational study of linguistics and phonetics in my time but i'd love to hear about this from somebody who knows more about this stuff than me. that'd be neat

also bless you for taking the take to adknowledge that not all the american accents are the same in this show (or in real life). i know i glide past it sometimes but its a fact i'm very aware of too

oh, oh, since you brought this up:

"Hurley is Mexican and while he has an American accent in English when Speaking Spanish It's probably not that sooooo"

i will take the opptunity to once again say that while hurley's voice is whiny american when he's speaking english (in a cute way! no dunk!), when he's speaking spanish his voice is absolutely beautiful

i realise that spanish accent > american accent isn't exactly a hot take but it blows me away because its coming out the same guy

thank you for allowing me to bring that up again. and for your time

#i always end long forms of text in ''thank you for your time'' its a quirk of mine #yeah you heard me #canadian is uncanny valley american. change my mind

[chamiryokuroi]

Hi Chami! You love Desmond Miles (and Elijah!), so I had a question: if you had do a crossover with Batman, how do you think it would go?

I have thought so much about this idea, as some of you might know I am a crossover lover so obviously once I got into DC I immediately started thinking about crossovers.

I honestly have a few but my favorite is mostly centered around Elijah.

What if after he escapes the Templars and Assassins during his fight with Juno for the Koh-i-noor he decides “Fuck it, fuck the Isu and their grand plans, I’m going to mess with the timeline” so he goes and hunts down the Isu artifacts needed for him to go back in time, problem is, when he finally activates the mess of wires and technology he has created, instead of being sent back in time he is sent to a completely different universe (wakes up in Gotham specifically).

He is understandably angry because what in the fuck? He was supposed to go a few years back, just enough to change things (save his mother) so why is he now in some world where the Isu influence seems to be non-existent and there are honest to god super powered people parading around as superheroes, like right out of a comic book?

Well dang it, he will find a way back to his own world, whatever it takes, and regardless of how many vigilantes get on his way.

Because obviously Batman and company notice the spike in energy resulting from a tear between universes when Elijah arrives, they arrive in scene but by then Eli is long gone, and then a sudden peak on theft starts in the city, thing is, there are no clues as to who is behind it, but whoever it is they’re up to no good, because everything they’re taking is highly advance technology the likes of which could be used to create something to destroy cities (or jump through universes).

That would be more or less the beginning, with the batfam desperately trying to catch Elijah, while the later is using every little assassin related knowledge he knows to get by (he might be going through the bleeding effect as well, you know, just because).

I like this crossover better than if it was Desmond on the Dc universe because Desmond is very much a reluctant hero, he would set one foot in Gotham and immediately go “fuck it, I an fixing this place” he is just like that, is in his genes, but Elijah is different, for me Eli is neither good nor bad, not even a middle point, if he was “good” he would have gone to the assassins after the whole Juno thing, but we know he didnt, he just took a powerful and dangerous artifacts and fucked off into the desert, for me he is selfish but not evil, he has gone through a lot and came out deciding to look after himself first, and that would give way to such interesting interactions with the batfam.

He is not blue, nor red, nor grey, he is a completely different category on his own, one second he would join Luthor to get access to his tech, the next he would be shaking hands with Ra’s to look into the Lazarus pits, and then he would be sending info to the League about something happening somewhere else in the world, but then he would be jumping into Arkham because there seem to be some caves underneath that might be old enough to contain an Isu temple, then he is helping the bats with a smuggling ring, just for him to steal right under their noses an artifact that might or might not be isu related. He would be invited to join the Young Justice just for him to go “why in the fuck would I join your child soldiers team?” Just for him to show up during life or death situations to help because dang it, he might be more isu than most humans, but he also has a ridiculous amount of dna from people who regularly put their lives on the line to help other and once in a while that part of his genetics seems to win over his need to find a way to get back home.

Idk how I would like this au to end, but I have been toying with the idea of Desmond showing up one day, but the thing is that this is not Eli’s dad, this is just a Desmond that fucked around with the Isu artifacts and got send to this universe. Which would be awkward all around because that’s not his dad, but it is some Eli’s dad and dang it he never knew the man but some deep part of him had always wanted to meet him.

#dc #assassin's creed #elijah miles #crossover ideas #a friend once suggested pairing Elijah with Tim which tbh would be fun #but also I am a sucker for aus that are mostly plot based and do not contain romance

[ao3feed-timkon]

Assassin's Creed: the Legend of the Blood Butterfly

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/JsLSKe2

by error_404_cannot_connect_to_fic

She felt like hell's freezing over. She wants to cry. She wants to hit, to hurt. She wants to destroy these people. Because how, how dare they wear her parent's faces. How dare that woman softly smile and walk towards her like nothing happened, when she had cried and broke and screamed herself hoarse on Kaachan's puddle of blood? How dare that man laugh boisterously, picking her up and spinning her around like he knows her, when she had felt and held Dad's hands and whispered little promises to him until he kissed her one last time and left this world?

Timothea suppressed the hot resentment and pure hate that bubbled in her stomach, nearly forcing itself to show up in her eyes. No. She cannot fail now. Not when her parents, her real parents, ones she knew loved and cared for her had died to make sure that she won't get taken away. Kaachan has stories and her loving warmth, and Dad has tales and his protective frost.

These people? They are nothing to her, nothing but strangers in this giant Manor that's supposed to be home, spies that the enemy planted to ensure her obedience.

Timothy just giggled and smiled from ear to ear, happy that his parents are actually letting him say goodbye to them for once.

Words: 2038, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Series: Part 5 of Random AU's I came up with in the middle of the night

Fandoms: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types, Batman - All Media Types

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death

Categories: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other

Characters: Tim Drake, Desmond Miles, Batfamily Members, Superfamily Members (DCU), Brotherhood Assassins (Assassin's Creed), Eivor (Assassin's Creed), Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad, Edward Kenway, Jacob Frye, Arno Dorian, Ratonhnhaké:ton | Connor, Ezio Auditore da Firenze, William Miles, Shaun Hastings, Rebecca Crane (Assassin's Creed), Lin (Assassin's Creed), Moussa (Assassin's Creed)

Relationships: Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent, Jack Drake/Janet Drake, Tim Drake & Owens & Zeddmore Washington & Prudence Wood

Additional Tags: Genius Tim Drake, Female Tim Drake, Tim Drake-centric, Tim Drake Has a Bad Time, Hurt Tim Drake, Tim Drake Has Issues, BAMF Tim Drake, Tim Drake is Not Okay, tim drake is called timothea, this whole thing's a mess, so basically f!tim is called timothea, and witnessed her mother kill herself from aided suicide, with help from her dad, Desmond Miles Lives, he got booted out of the Grey long enough to have a daughter, and gain some memories before going back in anyways, desmond miles is tim's dad, and he 'dies' sometime after Haly's Circus, thea is in hiding as a boy, and lives with her parent's clones that the order of templars sent, Magical Tim Drake, thea doesn't actually have a last name, but will use her mother's if anyone asks, magical Janet Drake, Bad Parents Jack and Janet Drake, the clones anyway, Good Parents Jack and Janet Drake, the OG!!!, THIS ENTIRE FIC IS THE RESULT OF MY BRAIN THROWING THE MOVIE; CANNON AND DCU INTO A MIXER, Janet Drake was originally Janiko Gekkōchō, no knowledge of cannon needed, most of the characters are OOC because I don't know cannon, Canon? Don't know her.

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/JsLSKe2

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #timkon

[breesays]

There was a fire (Metaphorically) Be there in five (Hyperbolically)

January was a strong start to the year. Signed up for the Six Pack of Peaks with some other mother hikers. Started running. The day I bought new running shoes, actually. Ran nearly 5 miles bc my watch was tracking kilometers and I didn't exactly know what that meant.  Drinking the green juice (Green Vibrance) meditating and taking cold showers. Not drinking alcohol. Elderberry and wellness shots every day, to defend against a household with coughs and runny noses. Reading a ton, listening to science and philosophical podcasts, have tickets for Fall Out Boy and The Academy Is in July. Paramore too. And even YELLOWCARD.

Work-wise I've interviewed Seal and Nickelback (who are pretty funny fyi) and we have 10 episodes lined up for publishing at the moment. Weirdly craving the opposite of what we've been creating for all these years - sounds bites, razor sharp concepts, evergreen content... I just want to do something meandering and limitless. All the questions that come to me in a brain dump, not an anesthetized creative brief. I want to do something messy. 

Desmond has been bowling me over with his questions, his word choice, his becoming a person-ness. Asks me how many miles per hour I'm driving. Knows all the days of the week and months of the year and likes to play "presents." He likes Glass Animals and Goldfinger, artichokes and tomatoes, his Vans checkered slip ons and anything and everything Bluey. Overall, I sleep better when he's right next to me because my mother antennas aren't pulled tight between two rooms. I don't have to get up and run for nightmares, potty breaks, bouts of insomnia. I tuck his toes in at least 3 times a night but it doesn't take me an hour to fall back asleep. I know this can't be a forever thing but for now it feels right. How kids wake up is so different from how adults wake up. I kind of want to bottle it. And sell it for face value. 

Still getting divorced, still ace, got a raise and it's the exact amount per month that my rent was raised. Laugh cry.

#lifeupdate #breesays #bluey #parenting