#also send requests if you wanna

[jakesjohnson]

Welcome to England.

Ted Lasso | 1.01

[happi-dreams]

Teehee sillyy render fun!

[mikepenos]

ren fair stuff

[waterfallofspace]

9, 42, and 45 for a sick, sneezy vash please, if that’s okay? 😄

Thank you for the ask, of course that's okay!! (it does feature a hint of W/olfwood action too, just a smiiidge, hope that's alright hehe~ It's also a V/ashwood story since, well, I figured that would be alright~!) 1.9k words, prompts 9, 42, and 45, story under cut! 9. “You’re trembling.”  42. “Baby, you’re all sniffly.”  45. “Your nose is literally twitching.” (Brief mentions of anxiety just incase anyone doesn't like that!)

~~~~~~~

“hn’chh-! hh’keshh-! ‘Scuse me, sorry.”

“I told ya, no need for the ‘pologies.” 

“Y- you did but it’s a hahh... habit. hek’ishh-! Sor-”

A dark look from Wolfwood cuts off the apology, Vash being reduced to stuttering out some nonsensical syllables in his effort to recover. His leg is still, but there’s constant movement in his hands as they attempt to find something to grab onto. Anxiety was never a stranger to the man, despite apparent lack of concern for his own safety most of the time.  

The town they find themselves in doesn’t have a motel, which isn’t that unique in these parts. They’ve grown quite used to sharing a room, or even just a bed, wherever they could find one. For instance, they’re currently sharing a guest room above the town bar. Not an awful crashpad, a couch, nice radio, their own bathroom. 

It’s secluded from the rest of the bar too, giving them a bit of privacy. Sliding onto the bed, Wolfwood motions for Vash to join him. Surprise crosses his sharp features as the request is denied. Instead, Vash points himself towards the couch, offering a wave over his shoulder as he spins away. ‘Well that’s new…’ 

“What, suddenly too good to share a bed with me, Blondie?”

“Wh- what? No, not at all! I just… I figured you’d- en’chh-! ih’tshhie-! Excuse me, sorry. Where was I..? Oh right, m- maybe you’d want it to yourself this time and I don’t mind t- taking the couch.”

“‘Cause of your cold? I don’t care, now get over here.”

“Because of my- what? I’m… I’m not sick?” 

Wolfwood doesn’t reply, instead he lets the uncomfortable silence settle over the room as he watches Vash. ‘Either he’s playing dumb, and doesn’t want to admit it, or the needle noggin really didn’t notice. Gotta know which before I make my move.’ Under the weight of tension starting to spread through the air, Vash gives a heavy sigh. The breath comes out shaky as his body vibrates, hands starting to rub his arms.

“You’re literally trembling. You tryna tell me that ain’t shivers?”

“It’s not! Well okay… I mean it is shivering, but not from sickness, it’s just cold in here, that’s all! ennchh-! Sorry, excuse me.”

The sneeze brings a fresh round of shudders as Wolfwood raises a brow at the display. ‘So denial it is then. If it was cold in ‘ere I’d’ve noticed long before him.’ A blessing almost slips out, but that’ll just lead to a new round of apologies. Right now it’s more important to get an admittance and go from there.

“Blondie, we’re in a fuckin’ desert. It’s not cold anywhere.” 

“W- well they must have the air on! Or… or something… probably the air, b- because it’s so hot out, so they uh… they want it to be cool indoors.”

“Guess I should go ask ‘em to turn it off-”

“Hey- wait no, uh… it’s- it’s actually starting to uh… warm up..? D- don’t bother them. hk’ishiee-! Sorry. They let us stay here, I don’t- I mean we don’t want to be a burden on them-”

A hint of pride starts to break through Wolfwood’s mind as he grins. ‘And there it is. Gotcha.’ Vash has always been hesitant to be a burden. Not a horrible mindset to have for most people, ‘Hell, a few could use more of it’. The problem is that his definition of ‘burden’ includes things such as eating, sleeping, breathing, or simply existing when he’s not actively helping in some way. 

Sickness was high on his list of ‘things that make me a burden on everyone I come in contact with’, despite Wolfwood’s constant reminders that he doesn’t mind. However, there is something above it, and that’s ‘bothering someone else’, especially when it’s for a made up reason. Given the choice between admitting sickness or waking the bartender to ask them to turn off the ‘air’ that doesn’t exist, well…

“-Okay fine. I might be… a little bit sick… but- hh’ishh’iee-! hehh- en’chhh-! heh’kshh’iew-!” 

“Blessin’”

“Thank you, sorry, it’s really not that bad!”

“Then get in bed ‘fore it gets worse.” 

“I uh… I really don’t think that’s-”

“I’ll even read from the book I’ve been finishin’. But that's a limited time offer, Blondie. Goin’ once, goin’ twice-” 

Before he can start the next word, Vash hurls himself towards the bed, an excited set of vibrations starting to replace the shivers. Wolfwood chuckles, lifting the blanket from his legs to wrap it around Vash, giving his shoulders a light squeeze. In response the huddled form leans into his lap, head resting against his chest. 

“Ready?”

“Yehh… yep!” 

“Alright. The second reason he realized she was gone was from the smell. The air had lost a sweetness. One he’d grown so used to he hardly recognized it anymore. That is, until it was gone. -----” 

Wolfwood continues reading, his focus being drawn away from the world once more. ‘Would’ve thought romance books were more Blondie’s thing, but… well… after he gave me that one about the garden love story… I guess I could understand the appeal… But only because Vash likes it when I read them. That’s all.’ No one else can hear him, but Wolfwood still feels the need to justify the surge of emotion starting to creep through his heart. 

Maybe it was the fact Vash had given him them. Maybe it was the fact that blondie was gazing up with a hazy adoration as each word leaves his throat. Doesn’t really matter why. All that matters is how the words seem to glide off the page, through his deep voice to dance around their heads, playing out each scene as he reads them. This sensation is short lived though, as soon he feels himself snapping back to the bedroom where a soft sound has begun.

“hkk-! guhh…” 

“Brushing the branches from his uh… from his face, he starts to cut through the dense forest.”

“heHh-! hhh… Snnff-”

“T- the branches, oh wait read that already, ah here we go. The dense forest. Eyes seem to be peering at him through the-”

“hahHhh- snff- hkIH-! hehh…”

“Through the, uh, the-”

“hhih-!”

“Christ, Blondie. Just sneeze already.” 

Vash’s head pops out from its blanket cocoon against Wolfwood’s chest, a pink tint spread across his cheeks that has nothing to do with his cold. Bringing up a single finger to lightly rub his nose, Vash tries to offer a sincere smile. What instead crosses his face is a look that just screams itchy. Wolfwood feels a sympathy tickle through his own nose. 

“Wh- what?”

“Your nose is literally twitching. You’re makin’ me itchy from the look of it. Jus’ sneeze, it’s okay. I’ll even pause my readin’.” 

“I- I don’t… okay yehh… yes I do- I’m so sorry ehH-!”

“Don’t ‘pologize. Nothin’ to be ‘shamed of.”

“eH’tmmfshh-! hh’mmshhii-! hk’ishh’ieee-!” 

He attempts to muffle the first two into his hand, the third escaping with a pitch that sounds incredibly unsatisfying. ‘No wonder he always has these long drawn out fits. Those sound like they do nothin’ to relieve the itch.’ Pausing his analysis, Wolfwood leans towards the nightstand, grabbing a handful of tissues and pressing them into Vash’s unused hand. 

A timid smile meets the gesture as Vash brings them to his nose, humming a sigh. The action seems to bring a new level of irritation, his breath snaring as the tissues are gripped tighter. It teases him for a minute, Wolfwood choking back a laugh at the whimper the tissues barely muffle. Finally, after what seems like a lifetime, a desperate “hnnchh-! ih’tishiee-! keshh’ii-!” break through. Wolfwood lets a knuckle crush his own nose, sympathy waves running through it again.

“Blessin’.” 

“Thanks. Sor-”

“You’re only welcome if you don’t finish that apology.” 

“-So are you gonna keep reading..? hih’ishhiee-! hk’ieshh-! Excuse me.”

“Blessin’s. Good save, Blondie. Remind me where we were?”

“Eyes in the- eh’kshhiee-! forest.”

“Blessin’, alright. So- wait… hold on a sec.”

Wolfwood lets the book rest on his knees, staring up through his sunglasses at the ceiling. Vash attempts to follow his gaze, but can’t notice anything worth staring at. Deciding to ask, Vash leans up to meet his eyes. Hardly a noise escapes before Wolfwood holds up a finger to silence him, tilting his sunglasses down and blinking through the brightness. 

“huh’yIEZzshh’oo-! ai’GNZSHhh’oo-! Whew, that’s better.” 

“Oh- bless you! Did- did I get-”

“No you didn' get me sick. My immune system ain’t nearly as fragile as yours.”

“Hey! Well then, is- hh’tieshh’ii-! Excuse me. Is something bothering you?”

“Nah, jus’ a tickle. Think it was ‘cause of the itchy look you were wearin’.”

“Oh, okay! S- sorry…”

“Nothin’ to be sorry for, Blondie. Now, back to the book?"

"Yes!"

"Eyes seem to be peering at him through the darkness. Watching his every step, daring him to come closer. Daring him to betray his heart alongside his kingdom. What did they know? Surely not his heart. That was something that couldn’t be known by anyone, not after her. ------.” 

Wolfwood feels the words flow from him once more, almost before his eyes can trace their forms on the page. Figures begin their dance, chasing each other in beautiful patterns through the humid air. The only thing pulling him from the daydream that he finds himself in far too often with Vash is the sound of constant sniffles. 

There is an outright refusal to address the noises, so instead Wolfwood continues reading, making it through another two chapters before giving in and setting the book back down. Vash looks up with an innocent gaze, absentmindedly rubbing his palm against his nose as another sniff breaks free.

“Baby, you’re all sniffly. You can blow your nose.”

The pet name gets the reaction it was meant to, Vash suddenly laser focused on Wolfwood’s every word. ‘Alright, easy now with this next part. He’s jus’ about there, gotta be delicate. Which… has never really been my strong suit.’ There’s a hint of unease beneath Vash’s smile, palm crushing against his face again. 

“I know you’re sick, Vash. You told me that earlier. So you can drop the ruse.” 

“We- well…”

“It’s just us.” 

Vash flushes as Wolfwood passes him another handful of tissues, but brings them to his nose anyways. He turns away, ever mindful of others, and blows a couple times. The first seems unsuccessful, but by the third he manages to get a semblance of airflow through his sinuses. 

Giving a heady sigh of relief, Vash turns back to Wolfwood, mouth open as if to form words. He never gets the chance, the next breath through his sensitive nasal passages bringing his hands up to his face by instinct. Wolfwood chuckles, letting a hand drop to rub his back through the fit. 

“hH’ieshh’ie-! keshhh’iee-! hihh- tnnshhii-! Ih’tieshhiee-!”

“Blessin’s. Heh, you’re awfully adorable at times, Blondie.”

“I am no- heH’ishh-! hk’ishh-! tieshh’iee-! not!” 

Humming out another laugh, Wolfwood brushes the hair from Vash’s warm skin, planting a kiss on his forehead. Vash responds with a sigh, airy and light, before he sinks back into Wolfwood’s chest, wrapping himself deeper into the blanket. A smirk crosses Wolfwood’s face, ‘Not cute, huh?’ before he lifts the book once more.

There, in the safety of Wolfwood’s embrace, Vash finds himself drifting off to sleep, figures dancing through his mind as the deep voice fades off into a peaceful darkness.

[x-gon-give-it]

HELLO!

Okay, look look, I wanna write things but I don't wanna work on any of my bigger fics right now, because long plots, lots of work, yada yada yada.

But I wanna write SOMETHING, but I don't know what, so like, if anyone has any Spider-Man prompts, Spideypool prompts, general Spidey ship prompts, please do send them my way. I want to practice writing one-shorts and short fics (5,000 words tops) and everything in my folders is planned out as long fics.

Please help a starving writer out (;´༎ຶД༎ຶ`) I told myself I wouldn't go get food until I wrote at least 2,000 words but I need something to write.

Thank you

[rosewheresheshouldntbe]

Rose in the Lucky Luciano "you know I had to do it to em" sidewalk

> Rose: Do it to em.

[flowercrowngods]

Sorry I'm sending so many asks haha, but like, I saw bard/knight on the WIP list and had to reread it again and weep and then get excited once more 🤍

But also the lighthouse fic looks interesting!! Honestly I'd read anything you write so I'd vote for them all haha

(but bard/knight tiny extra vote 👀)

bard/knight is your story at this point (have i said that already???) here, a small snippet attempt at getting back into that kind of language & style, also following part 1 rather directly. mwah 🤍

Eddie spends a maudlin few days wallowing in newly found misery and dramatically bemoaning the lack of inspiration and muse, to which his uncle merely instructs him to help in the smithy, claiming that physical exertion would help with the wretched guilt.

Eddie is loath to let go of his guilt just yet, hoping it would turn into self-righteous anger at the Lord after all. But no such luck. Night after night of pondering the Lord’s words and the hurt expression Eddie was met with not even a fortnight ago leave not a shred of doubt as to who is at fault. And has been for years, unwittingly or not.

No wit will get him out of this mess that can only be cleared up by sincerity and vulnerability — something that Eddie has sworn to never show this place again.

It tears away at him for days, leaving him unable to sing, unable to play, unable even to sleep, cooped up though he is in the room of his childhood. It’s a time he longs for with an aching heart, if only to take back his promise to never be vulnerable within these walls, if only to be sure he doesn’t betray himself more than he betrayed Lord Harrington and both of their hearts.

Time, seemingly done with Eddie’s mental back and forth, pulls the floor from beneath his feet one night when he finds a written invitation from Princess Chrissy to attend her banquet tomorrow night as both highly requested bard and dearly welcome guest.

At the banquet, Eddie knows, he will see Lord Harrington again, and there will be no way to avoid him any longer. He sighs deeply and heads straight to bed.

🤍🌷 make me write (please)

[commander-ledi]

just sharing my professional opinion in how i think dragon age at it's current state measures against bg3

[hellvcifer]

Adam: Ha HAH nice …

《 but srs thanks for all the follows !! 》

[yorshie]

Yorshie... you know what I want Yorshie...

*⁂((✪⥎✪))⁂*

AHIDBASIDASIUDBAS NO but ily, take your time, have some ice-cream, just need you to know how good your stuff is in case no one told you today.

🍨🍨🍨

Eh hem. Whelp. The good news is I only have one one 1/2 scenes left to write.

The bad news? It’ll be maybe Tuesday before you guys see the whole thing. Fingers crossed. Send me good vibes man cuz raph wanted to have a whole ass conversation I was not planning and then had to write.

Also thank you! I had ice cream last night. Made a little mug cake with cinnamon and some vanilla ice cream and then watched young Frankenstein

If we’re sending vibes/prayers/hallelujahs/Hail Marys I’d also like to request some for the big request I’m working on because it became a two parter……..

[mandarinmoons]

Think i might want to take a break from posting for a few days. Not feeling that well rn and i don't wanna push myself to make something if i'm not in the mood to x

[raineandsky]

#3

Patrol has been boring this evening – fighting a few villains here and there, making sure their usual traps are deactivated across the city. Everything has been awfully quiet and easy, and the end of their shift is looming blissfully close. Even their usual nemesis is strangely absent. Just one more round about the block and they can go home.

They take their usual turn down the alley below the neon sign for the cinema. The street lamps are dim in this part of the city, some of the bulbs blown and left to fester in darkness and leaving only a few lamps and depressing shop signs to light the path. It’s even harder to see down the alley, and it takes a moment for the hero’s eyes to adjust to the gloom. 

It’s only once they can see better that they notice the path isn’t completely empty. Someone has clearly been down here since their last round and dumped a bag of trash against one of the walls. They huff in exasperation as they approach, giving it a light tap with their foot to determine what they’re about to pick up. It’s only when the bag lets out a very human sounding whine that they realise they just kicked someone.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry,” the hero says gently, crouching down in front of the person as they turn their head away with a sigh. “Are you okay? Do you need help?”

“I’m fine,” a familiar voice says, annoyance sharpening their tone, and they frown worriedly as they squint slightly against the gloom. “Piss off.”

“[Villain]?” they say in surprise, and the villain quickly shushes them. They lower their voice the next time they talk. “What’re you doing sitting here?”

“It’s none of your business,” they snap, though they let out a harsh hiss at the sudden movement. Their hands shift, adjusting something against themself, and the hero’s gaze is pulled down to follow the movement. Even in the darkness they can see the deep staining on their clothes, the wide puddle forming in a cruel halo around them. The villain takes a deep breath, forcing themself into fake normality before plastering on a grin, it’s usual cruelty lost in the daze of blood loss.

“Jesus Christ, [Villain], what the hell–”

“New guy,” they cut across, gesturing at nothing. “The one with the stupid face.”

The hero is already going about tearing a piece of fabric off of their jacket. The villain was meant to be their villain. Why are other heroes getting involved? “You describe all heroes as having stupid faces, including me. You need to be a little more precise than that.”

“You do have a stupid face.” The villain huffs a laugh and their expression contorts as the movement pains them more. The hero tries to move their hands away, but they just get a disgruntled groan in response. “The hell are you doing? I’m trying to not bleed out, asshole.”

“I’m trying to help but like everything you have to make it hard,” they tell them casually, and their focus on finally getting their arms out of the way means they miss the slightly confused frown adorning the villain’s face.

“I thought this would be good for you,” they comment quietly. “One less vigilante on the streets.”

The hero groans like it’s obvious, gently taking the villain’s face between their hands. Their eyes are unfocused, looking in their direction but not exactly seeing them. “There’s a reason I’m always the one who fights you.”

“Wha…” is all the villain says in response, and the hero carefully wraps the bloodiest area in their makeshift bandage. It’s not exactly the healthiest option, but there aren’t many others when time is this short.

They tuck their arms under the villain as gently as they can muster, hoisting them into a bridal carry. There’s a hospital not too far from here. They can get there in good time. The villain’s head leans comfortably against their shoulder with a sigh, staring into nothing.

“This’s gonna be… so emba’ssing later…” they mumble, and the hero snorts amusedly despite the ball of anxiety growing in their stomach. 

“You can worry about the embarrassment later.” They turn onto the main street, back into the slightly more lit roads. “For now let’s make sure you don’t die.”

The villain hums like they aren’t listening. “‘K…” They close their eyes, their conscience slinking away alarmingly fast. “Sanks…”

“It’s my job to look out for people,” the hero reminds them, but their words are met with nauseating silence. The hospital isn’t far, but time is of the essence. They’re going to make sure the villain makes it if it kills them.

[teecupangel]

Hey there!

I don't know if you take requests for character analyses (if you don't just ignore this), but I would really like to see your take on Desmond Miles since, for some reason, I can't really seem to wrap my head around him, which has resulted in me finding him almost boring, and I would like to remedy that.

I'm particularly interested in what you believe to be to be his biggest flaws and where they come from, since that's what usually compels me the most about a character, and also what I have trouble with finding in Desmond.

I’m fine with any analysis requests that get sent my way :)

Although, I do wonder if I’m the right person to analyze Desmond since character analysis is meant to be as nonbias as possible but I’m me and y’all know how much I love Desmond at this point. XD

I will do my best though but it is my duty to remind you that this analysis is written by someone who loves Desmond so, yeah, some of that love will bleed thru in this analysis.

Also, as this would get pretty long if I do a complete character analysis, I’ll focus on what compelled me to Desmond which, I believe, is connected to your question about what his flaws are and where they come from.

What compelled me to Desmond:

Nolan North’s Voice

He’s voiced by Nolan North and I’ve been in love with Nolan North’s voice since I played Spec Ops the Line. Haha, no, that’s half a joke and my obligatory “Nolan North fangirling” out of the way. Also, no joke, Nolan North was able to give Desmond a compelling voice that helped mold his character in my eyes and ears. I never once heard Desmond speak and thought "oh, that's Nathan Drake" which is funny since Nolan North uses similar voices for the two of them. With what he's given, Nolan North was able to make Desmond unique from his other characters, making him a charming and adorable dumbass with more depth than he usually shows.

Endless Potential

This was what compelled me to him because his part in the series felt like it was building for something more. If we were to believe what Nolan North said in this video (around the 33~34 minute mark), Desmond was meant to have a bigger part in the story. The ultimate Assassin with the ability to time travel, most probably to help change the past and tragedy of his ancestors and to usher in a brighter future for the Brotherhood and mankind. The one who will finally end the endless war between the Assassins and the Templars.

But then Ubisoft screwed that up and wasted Desmond’s potential.

But from their actions were born endless potential. For as long as there are fans who create new stories with Desmond in them, Desmond lives up to that endless potential. By destroying Desmond’s potential, Ubisoft unintentionally created a character with endless potential given to him by those who create stories where he is resurrected or never died in the first place.

And that endless potential is what brings new ideas and scenarios for our dear poor Desmond to get involved with. XD

Desmond and His Ancestors

Kenway-Patented Daddy Issues

So let’s start with Ratonhnhaké:ton because there are some people who say that Desmond and Ratonhnhaké:ton are quite similar to one another but, let’s be honest, most of those comparisons stem from their similar ‘tense’ relationship with their father. Desmond and Ratonhnhaké:ton mirror each other because of that relationship and they showed two contrasting ‘endings’:

Ratonhnhaké:ton had wanted to build a bridge between himself and his father but ended up killing Haytham because of their differences and their stubbornness to yield to the other’s wishes and demands.

On the other hand, Desmond let go of whatever animosity he felt for his father and made up with him in the end even though there have been hints of how deeply Bill mistreated his son (either thru neglect or actual abuse is up to interpretation) that should have been given more time to talk about than... two-ish voice messages.

This is more my opinion but Desmond forgiving his father and trying to make amends is because he wished to grant Ratonhnhaké:ton’s wish in some form. Perhaps even his Bleed of Ratonhnhaké:ton is the reason why he felt the desire to make amends because he’s seeing a lot of Haytham Kenway in Bill. In his Bleed-’corrupted’ mind, this could be counted as Ratonhnhaké:ton getting his wish.

The Legend Everyone Wants Him To Become

Lucy said it herself, they’re using the Bleeding Effect to jumpstart and cheat their way into making Desmond an Assassin. But is that really their end goal? Sure, Lucy had the ulterior motive of the Templars wanting to get the POE that had been under Ezio’s care but the Assassins themselves want Desmond to become an Assassin as quickly as possible.

We can even make an argument that they want Desmond to not be an Assassin like Ezio Auditore but to be Ezio Auditore.

Because Ezio Auditore was seen as a success story by the Assassins. They didn’t know how he had almost been so close to giving up the Creed during his later years, they didn’t know how he left the Brotherhood because he had enough…

They remember Ezio Auditore as this great man, this legend.

And the Bleeding Effect gave them the tool to try and recreate this legend in Desmond Miles.

Also, the way Lucy, Shaun, and Rebecca supported Desmond is similar to how Mario and the members of the Italian Brotherhood in AC2 supported Ezio.

In some ways, they were using Desmond/Ezio to get what they want. Desmond and Ezio are the ones risking their lives the most (either in the field where anything and everyone can kill him with Ezio or in a high-tech device that could destroy his mind with Desmond) while their allies kept information from them “until the time is right” (mostly Bill and, by extension, Lucy) and supported them from the shadows instead.

The Distorted Mirror

For me, Desmond is actually more of Altaïr’s foil and a distorted mirror image of Altaïr because:

Both of their mothers are quite the blank slate with Maud only known as a Christian member of the Levantine Brotherhood but never confirmed to be an actual Assassin while Desmond’s mother has never been officially called an Assassin, only a member of the Brotherhood like Maud.

Both were born and raised in Assassin ‘strongholds’, isolated from the rest of the world. How similar their upbringing was is open for interpretation but, considering how Desmond never talked about any specific children from the Farm and didn’t talk about his life as a bartender or any of his coworkers and the only person that treats Altaïr like an old friend was an informant in Damascus (if we do not count Rauf who looks like he’s friendly with everyone and Kadar who is more on the side of hero-worship for Altaïr than being a friend of equal grounds), we can safely assume they were both lonely (especially after Abbas and Altaïr’s friendship went to hell).

Both of them were trained to be Assassins at an early age but where Altaïr thrived and became one of the best Assassins in the Levantine Brotherhood (and, later on, in history), Desmond saw himself as a failure.

Speaking of which, they both have father figures who trained them to be Assassins but where Al Mualim succeeded in creating a valuable weapon, Bill failed.

Both of them, at some point in their lives, thought about running away. Altaïr had been ready to leave Levant with Adha but stayed instead after her death. Desmond, on the other hand, actually ran away and created a new life out of the reach of the Brotherhood.

Altaïr is known for saying “How can I regret the only life I have ever known?” which echoes Desmond’s regrets of running away from his Assassin lineage.

Desmond had talked about how he wished people had told him things, had explained things to him, and given him information that would have made him understand that the Assassins and Templars were real. He even tells Shaun that he would have loved to have been a know-it-all in the Desmond_01.WAV in AC Valhalla. Altaïr is known to hoard knowledge (his library) and is a scholar as well. They both desired knowledge but where Altaïr sought and hoarded it, Desmond simply… wished for it.

There are other comparisons of how similar they are but distorted in some way to make them unique from one another (like how their canon love interest (sorta in Desmond’s case) died because of them in some form or another) but those are some of the major ones in my opinion.

So, you might be wondering, why did I focus so much on Desmond’s ancestors when this is meant to be a character analysis of Desmond himself?

Because that is one of his flaws.

Desmond has and will always be compared to his ancestors, both in universe and in meta. One can only imagine how Desmond felt about being compared to his ancestors.

Well...

We can actually guess how he felt about that because...

Another one of his flaws is how he saw himself as a failure and his feeling of being never enough, of being a failure stems from, you guessed it, William Fucking Miles:

I—I had failed you, and you KNEW it. But you said nothing. I stayed mad. For weeks. I thought you were...you were patronizing me. I thought maybe you decided right there that I was never going to be the man you wanted me to be... (Noob’s Personal Files: "Subject Zero" - audio file 3)

The rest of the audio file talked about how Desmond had misunderstood Bill’s actions but what kind of upbringing would he have to have had that his first thought when he was praised was that it was a lie? Instead of immediately believing the praises given to him by his own father, he assumed that he had failed and his father had given up on him?

Desmond couldn’t even see his own accomplishment:

Desmond: I wanted out. I wanted my own life. To live my own way. Sixteen years old. And where was I going? No idea. Just away. That's it. That was the plan. Not much of one. They never guessed what I was doing, because I didn't know what I was doing. I just walked right out. Someone realized I was gone. They shouted. I started running.

William: Desmond! Desmond!

Desmond: I just ran and ran and ran. All that training was finally worth something. God, it was so dark when I left. And the forest... endless. I didn't dare take the roads.

Mother: Desmond, where are you?

Desmond: Mother, calling out. Begging me to stay. But I wouldn't. I followed the hills down. Down until I hit a stream. I followed that to a river, and from the river to an old access road. I walked for hours that day, the summer sun keeping me warm well into the evening. Found a clearing after dark. Fell asleep beneath the stars. Never had a quieter night. Not before or since. Walking, too scared to hitch a ride. What the hell was I doing? Lost in the badlands for a day. Felt like a week. Endless ocean of wrinkled earth. Can't believe a place could look so dead. (AC Revelations Escape)

A secured location run and protected by adult Assassins couldn’t catch a 16 year old kid? Even if it’s just his parents who went after him, two adults with more experience couldn’t catch him? This only shows that Desmond had the skills. A sixteen years old who had NEVER left the Farm further than what his training and his parents had allowed was able to evade those who were training him his entire life.

Yet, he still thought that he had been a failure. That memory of Bill praising him for doing a good job and him believing that Bill had given up on him stayed with him and made him believe he was a failure for a very long time.

And this was a man who stayed out of the whole Assassin and Templar business for nine years until he grew complacent and tried to treat himself with a motorcycle license (which might show how bored he was with his life as a bartender and wanted some excitement in his life… like a really fast vehicle)

Bill described Desmond as:

This... boy had no ambition. No direction. No plans for the future. What he DID have was a heritage. One he chose to deny. (AC3 Intro)

But then you get to Desmond’s audio files in AC Valhalla where he talked to Shaun about what the Creed means and he says this:

Anyway, my dad has mellowed over the years. But he was strict when we lived on the Farm. He ran a tight ship. I never got the impression that I was free to choose my path forward. Our creed, our tenets, they were drilled into my head. By the time I was a teenager, I was following these rules out of a sense of duty. This was... just what we did. (Layla Hassan’s Personal Files Desmond_01.WAV)

Just like Altaïr, the life of an Assassin was the only life Desmond had and he felt like he never had a choice. He was envious of Shaun who decided to become an Assassin out of his own free will.

But running away?

Denying his lineage?

That was the very first ‘choice’ he ever made for himself.

And this brings us to what Desmond desired most of all:

His “I wanted my own life.” in AC Revelation’s Escape is another excuse he tells himself. Because what he truly wanted was:

A Place to Belong.

After nine years of being away, my old bitterness was back. I was tired again. I didn't want to admit that moving forward might mean taking a step back. But the shine of the city had faded. The freedom I felt was hollow without old friends, without family. (AC Revelations Regret)

But then Desmond started saying these lines:

And suddenly, I wanted it all back. All that training, all that time. But I couldn't. Those days. They were gone. (AC Revelations Regret)

Not until you guys found me. Yeah. It wasn't until I met you and Becs and Lucy that I knew... I knew I wanted to be an Assassin. (Layla Hassan’s Personal Files Desmond_01.WAV)

I know my easiest days are behind me. But I don't want them back. Not now. My name is Desmond Miles... and I am an Assassin. I AM an Assassin. (AC Revelations Regret)

But then compare that to how Desmond was in AC1:

Lucy: Why'd you run away?

Desmond: I could never leave the compound. You have any idea what it's like being trapped in a place, knowing there is a whole world out there I'd never get to see?

Lucy: Don't you miss your parents?

Desmond: No. Far as I'm concerned, they weren't my parents. They were my wardens and I was their prisoner.

Lucy: It sounds like they only wanted to protect you.

Desmond: With all that's happened... I don't know. I guess they were right. (AC1, after the first memory block)

What changed?

Is it because Desmond knew what it was like to be part of a team? Of what it’s like to be an Assassin?

Yes but it’s a little bit more complicated than that.

Desmond felt like he belonged with the Assassins but he made one big mistake: he thought he meant the Assassins as they were are right now.

But what he truly desired, the place that he believed he could belong was the Brotherhood of olds.

The Levantine Brotherhood under Altaïr as the mentor.

The Italian Brotherhood under Ezio as the mentor.

Those were the 'memories' he had of what it meant to be part of a Brotherhood.

Then he started reliving Ratonhnhaké:ton’s life (one who did not have a Brotherhood, instead a village that left him behind and an old man too jaded to truly guide him without letting his past and guilt drive a wedge between them) and those messages he left for Bill? The acceptance? The forgiveness?

They were created after experiencing the pain and loneliness that Ratonhnhaké:ton went thru. It was created after he felt the sorrow of having a father that will never accept him for who he was.

They were left by a man who felt the regrets of someone close to him, could feel himself be him at times, and wished for another ending.

A… happier one.

Desmond’s line of

My name is Desmond Miles... and I am an Assassin. I AM an Assassin.

Becomes bittersweet because, yes, he had accepted who he was meant to be from the start but, thanks to the Bleeding Effect, we never got to know if the kind of Assassin he was ever meant to be was one that was truly Desmond Miles or…

Someone trying to live up to the memories of his ancestors.

[slightlyhopefulromantic]

highly specific ask, so its okay if no one has any requests (i will just draw jodie XD), but feel free to drop like. dndads AUs or fics that you have, or that a friend has, that you wanna see fan art for :3

[constantmourning]

I'm currently writing a Buggy request (and staring at this half way finished thing my bff requested... (don't ask about my writing process it is non-existent.)) BUT I'm also literally falling in love with Mihawk and Shanks, I'm sure I can come up with something to write for them (eventually) but I also have Severe Brain Broke Syndrome 😔

So if anyone has anything specific they'd want to see for Mihawk or Shanks.... you know what to do... 🙂