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whateversawesome · 5 months

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SxF Chapter 91: Perspective, History, Empathy

Let me start by saying that I didn't think this chapter would make me so emotional. Was it the same for you?

A small side character like Millie, who we saw only as one of Yor's annoying co-workers, turned out to have a very sad backstory and gave us a glimpse of how things are for young people in Ostania.

This chapter talks a lot about people understanding and misunderstanding each other. Millie was just talking about her own experience and feelings, she was explaining why it was so difficult for her to help during an event like this, and that lady felt personally attacked because she saw things from her own point of view and her sufferings.

In no way the story discards any of those ladies' sufferings; what they went through during the war was very difficult, I'm sure. Nevertheless, comparing their sufferings and demanding Millie to act the same way just because they were able to do it, it's not right.

They both had different experiences because their circumstances were different, so they face life in their own way. That's exactly Yor's point.

Here, Yor demonstrates her best quality (and one of the many reasons why her husband fell in love with her): Emotional strength.

I've said it before and I'll say it again; Yor is a very emotionally intelligent character. The way she stood up for Millie displayed all her emotional strength. She called out that woman in such a smart way!! She wasn't rude but her words were true and very wise.

One of the most important things Yor mentions is that we cannot bear the same load because we're different. And I couldn't agree more👏

Also, if we take it as a metaphor, Yor is such a strong person because she carried a very heavy load: as a child and an orphan, she had to take care of her brother. Because of this, a naturally kind person like her had to learn to murder in order to survive.

It was a beautiful chapter. On top of everything, we learned a few important things:

1.Yor did lose her parents during the war and because of the war.

2.Donovan Desmond did NOT start the war. But plenty of young people like Millie don't know that, so it's possible that since he was Prime Minister during most of the war, he gets blamed for starting it.

3.Donovan Desmond is hated by many. That's probably the reason why he's no longer in office. And it also wouldn't be surprising that the majority of people in Ostania who voted against him want to move on from the war.

3.Melinda still wears her wedding ring and, even though she's separated from her husband, she still counts him as an important person for her. I guess, you can hate a person's actions and opinions, hate what they have become, but care about them at the same time...their marriage is complicated.

4.Not only Yor and Twilight fear the SSS because of their jobs. The general population do too because they know rich and powerful people can make them disappear regardless whether they are spies or not. That means arrests and disappearences of innocent people are common.

5.There was a repression during war time. This means the state controls and restricts certain rights of its citizens. When war happens, the state may determine it's necessary to protect their country and citizens. Chances are that policing of others started then and Ostanians got used to living like that.

And now some questions:

Was Melinda being sincere? In my opinion yes (for the most part). Melinda is no longer campaigning for her husband. In fact, she's going there incognito. Since her husband is no longer the Prime Minister and they don't have any elections to win, she doesn't have to support this types of events. If you think about it, once a politician retires from the public eye, their spouse generally goes back to their normal life.

Something that caught my attention was that it was mentioned Melinda has a lot of enemies; probably because her husband has a lot of enemies too. If that's the case, it would be easier for Melinda to move abroad, where she could have a care-free life, yet, she has chosen to stay in Ostania. Why?

Melinda is still a very mysterious character. We don't know her plans or intentions. We don't know why she separated from her husband. My only guess is that she's suffered a great deal and that's why she's able to empathize with Millie, even though their experiences are different.

What do you think?

Bonus (to end on a light note):

This is the Sxf when we see Yor 😄

#spy x family #twiyor #Spy x family manga #Sxf #Spy x family #yor forger #loid forger #anya forger #loidyor #loid x yor #agent twilight #Spy x family meta #spy x family analysis

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mirrorthoughts · 9 months

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The Identity Crisis of Desmond Miles

Alright, here we are 😂 Thanks to everyone who has voted on my poll (and yes, I know it's not over yet but I wrote this already anyway 😂), I’m actually surprised I got more than 10 votes (and all of them on a yes 💕(the one for the results was mine 😂I wanted to see how it’s going)).

So yeah, Blorbo thoughts about Desmond’s brain, how the Animus maybe-probably works on it and how it’s actually possible that Desmond still has a (probably in the end very weak) grasp of his own identity (below a readmore, because I don’t know how long this will get 😂😂)

The Start

First a few facts I will base this whole… essay on

Desmond learns skills from his ancestors, so the Animus has to impact him deeper than only on a surface level (surface level would be like playing a VR version of a game).

I don’t have the precise ages/dates in mind for the lifespans of Altair, Ezio and Connor, but even if I’m being conservative we’ll get at least 80+ years of other people’s memories in contrast to Desmond’s 25 years of life (…just realized he’s about half a year older than me, so maybe it’s not a surprise he’s one of my forever-blorbos <.<…), one of those, namely Ezio’s he actually ‘lived’ from birth to retirement (= ~55-60 years).

AC Revelations is the only real glance into Desmond’s own memories (aside from what he tells us at the beginning of AC1 and 2). From a doylistic view I know that Ubisoft probably just didn’t want to expend more effort to create Desmond’s memories the same as his ancestor’s, especially because they probably knew at that point they would kill him in the next installment anyway. From a watsonian view the way his memories are all bare bones - mostly his voice talking as if it was a story he remembers and not something he actually lived, without people/faces and places he knew - comes across as if he doesn’t really remember all that much anymore, as if they were really old memories buried by the rest of his (or rather his ancestors’) life.

The brain can hold a lot of information and memories. Even more than you might think. We all know about those Guiness World Records guys that taught themselves to easily remember a myriad of numbers, words, things, whatever. I actually recently saw a very good video about how to do that even as a ‘normal person’. And I’m not even talking about people with photographic, eidetic, echoic or other types of ‘perfect memory’. So, I think we can agree on: the brain is fucking awesome (most of the time) and probably can actually handle the 130+ years Desmond has experienced.

Desmond

Desmond’s ‘life’, according to what his brain experiences when he was in Abstergo’s hands looks a bit like this: Desmond (25yrs) -> Altair (however many days/weeks) -> Desmond (one night’s sleep) -> Altair (however many days/weeks) -> Desmond (one night’s sleep) -> repeat until he gets broken out of Abstergo.

And it only gets worse. Yes, he gets more “free time” when he’s with Shaun and Rebbecca, but at the same time he experiences weeks, if not months of Ezio’s life at a time! Sometimes even years. (We can argue about how the time jump-function works in the Animus, but he still gets the information of what happened how during that time because Ezio knows all of that shit, so even if it’s not as detailed as what he actually actively lives through he still gets the memory of what happened during that time as far as I’m concerned).

And then we have the most extreme ratio in Revelations: Mere seconds of being Desmond (hello computer/brain-speed!) against another few months/about a year of Ezio’s time.

During AC3 it’s not as clear cut how much time he spends in the Animus, thanks to them being inside, but I’d guess they’re about at the same ratio as with AC2, maybe a bit better since he does get to go on missions outside.

In total that makes maybe three months of Desmond’s time (it’s about half a year from when he got kidnapped to when he dies minus all the time he was in the animus. Tbh I think it’s even less than three months he has as Desmond/himself during that time) against literal decades of memories and experiences of his ancestors during the same time. And of course the Bleeding Effect that even disturbs his ‘Desmond time’.

So much for the ‘mathematical’ side of it all 😂

To summarize: Every memory that Desmond makes as himself is overshadowed by dozens of memories he makes as one of his ancestors. So piece by piece, Desmond’s own memories get buried deeper and deeper in his head and those 25 years he actually was only Desmond get fainter and fainter as the new memories he’s making as his ancestors are getting favored by his brain.

Identity Crisis

At this point, it wouldn’t be surprising if Desmond really believed himself to be Ezio, right? After all he’s lived about 55 years of Ezio, he remembers being born as him (and wasn’t that an awkward scene to play… nevermind experience for Desmond), growing up as him, and of course everything we as the player played through with Ezio. And although aside from some verbal outbursts against especially Lucy and a few scenes of the Bleeding Effect we actually don’t see much of it during the game (as far as I remember at least). But we also know about the in-game consequences of using the Animus in detail - hello Clay - and that Abstergo doesn’t really care about the effects of the Animus on their victims as long as they get from them what they want/need.

And yes, Rebecca’s Baby 2.0 was optimized by her to make it better/easier for Desmond. But better/lesser effects still means there will be some effects. And also… afaik Rebbecca has her informations about the Animus from whatever Lucy ‘smuggled out’ of Abstergo. Lucy is said to be a Templar spy, so what informations did she really give Rebecca? Bc as far as I’m concerned it would be to Lucy’s/the Templar’s advantage if Desmond would find them what they need more or less by his own choice and then is brain gets scrambled to hell and back so the Assassins won’t be able to get more informations themselves, right?

Anyway, @Raett (who was a lovely participant in the discussion of these thoughts) hit me with that lovely sentence of “If you've spent more time being 'Ezio' than being 'Desmond' than what's to say [you aren’t] Ezio with memories of Desmond?”

And… just imagine. You’ve just gone through decades of memories, your own memories are faint right now (see point 3) and you’re not quite sure if those actually are your memories or if that’s just something you’ve seen. Maybe you are Ezio after all? Maybe you only dreamt of those ‘memories’ of Desmond - after all that weird vision of a woman that called you the Prophet also talked about someone with that Name! Okay, alright, then you are obviously Ezio, right? You remember your family, your sister, after all you write to her regularly when you are not visiting. You remember Constantinopoli, you remember traveling to Masyaf, you remember finding Altair’s body, his memories.

Wait.

You remember more of Altair then the memory discs have shown you. How can you remember more of Altair’s life? It was already a miracle in your eyes that you saw his memories at all! You remember someone named Connor, Ratonhnhaké:ton. You remember him living in the future, not as far as Desmond, but still far closer to him than yourself. How can you remember the future if you are Ezio? But you remember your - Ezio’s - whole life, so you have to be Ezio, right? But you also remember Altair’s life. Not all of it, but years of it. And you remember Ratonhnhaké:ton, remember how he became Connor, remember his work and life up to somewhere in his later twenties.

And you remember, though faintly, Desmond. You remember that diabolical machine Desmond used. You remember what he was forced to do.

You can remember remembering, reliving your memories.

Are they really yours? Or maybe, maybe you aren’t Ezio after all.

Remembering

So, now that Desmond’s gone through that circle of ‘who am I?’ and ‘I’m Ezio, right?’ and ‘I have to be Ezio, but I can’t be Ezio, so who am I?’ probably more than just a couple of times, what actually is it that brings him back every time?

The short answer is probably ‘reality’, even though that sounds dumb as fuck at first 😂

But in a wider sense that’s actually true. A person’s memory doesn’t only consist of seeing and hearing things, as much as someone who played the games might get the impression because the average person has yet to be able to smell/feel/taste things from computer games 😂.

And that’s the crux, the only thing that actually saves Desmond from loosing himself completely: Sensory impressions, which are a great trigger to remember things.

The clothes he’s wearing don’t feel like any of his ancestor’s clothes. Their make and design are completely different, the fabric was produced in a different way, the clothes themselves, like underwear are even a modern invention (modern men’s underwear is actually largely an invention of the 1930s). And of course nowadays most people wear a lot less layers than it was custom in most of human history.

Then there’s sound and smell (and visuals of course), a modern city is so much louder than even ancient Rome has been. More people (the world’s population is more than 20 times larger than during the 1400s (Ezio was born in the latter half of that century). And between 2011 and 2023 we actually gained another Billion of people on this world!), loud and smelly cars, food stalls, tared streets, large buildings and modern architecture. Cities in general.

And of course he has his companions who would jog his memories by being there.

And his companions are the ones who also trigger another sense of Desmond: touch. Or at least I hope they do <.< touch starvation is a bitch and even a hand on your shoulder or sitting closer together and almost touching and stuff like that do help a lot.

In the same vein we also have Desmond’s own bodily awareness by the way. Especially after months of mostly lying in the Animus he won’t be as strong or enduring as his ancestors and when I think about how Ezio’ running around Rome in his armor… well Desmond definitely has a long way to get anywhere near that strength 😂😂😂 So, his body doesn’t feel like either his ancestor’s bodies. And he also has different markings on his body than them (aside from the scar on his lip that he shares with Altair and Ezio) and, of course, he has his tattoo.

And I think that’s what is grounding him the most. While he sure as hell can fall into one of his ancestors’ personalities when he’s hiding somewhere in the woods, cars - and technology in general - and cities and people have the best chance at pulling him back into himself. Even small things like a tea one of his ancestors remembers that just doesn’t taste quite right. Because over the hundreds of years the plants used to make that tea changed by natural evolution or - more likely - by cultivation through humans.

Coping

I’m kinda curious what they would have done with Desmond if he’d survived in canon. But since they didn’t really let him survive (I’m expertly ignoring the Reader btw.) we will never know an answer to that, I guess <.<…

Though I think with a bit of therapy he’d actually be able to compartmentalize the memories of his ancestors quite well? I mean… I actually think I saw something similar in a fanfic, but since each of their lives was so uniquely different I think it would actually be pretty clear cut to shove each of them in a dedicated space - like a mind palace or something.

I mean, mind palaces work by using a place (real or imaginary) that you know very well and kinda… sort what ever you want to remember in those places. Other than Desmond who mostly has the farm (and I don’t think he’d want to use that place and revisit it every time he tries to remember something specific) each of the other three kinda has at least one dedicated space he knows like the back of his hand. For Ezio he could use Florence, Monteriggioni, even Rome (though maybe a place he isn’t going to travel to that often). For Altair Masyaf is the most likely choice in my opinion. And for Connor he has the homestead and his ship. Just places he hasn’t the same connection to as Desmond and which he can imagine well enough.

He would probably still need a shit ton of therapy for that whole thing anyway and for coping with his own childhood and how his dad is a fucking asshole, too <.<… But he would have a chance to cope, maybe even heal.

Anyway, thanks for everyone who read this far 😂😂😂 I didn’t expect to turn this whole thing into a 2k+ essay, but well, I kinda did o_O… I have no idea if I remembered everything I wanted to write, but this thing is what you get 😂 Hope you had fun! :D (And thanks for wanting to read this to everyone who voted 💕)

#seikaze #sei's brain bubbles #assassin's creed #desmond miles #this got so much larger than I anticipated #it was actually a joke that I called it 'essay' at the beginning #but welp #now it's 2.2k plus a bit long

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random-thought-depository · 1 year

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""Moreover, it turns out that the United States is not all that tightfisted when it comes to social spending. “If you count all public benefits offered by the federal government, America’s welfare state (as a share of its gross domestic product) is the second biggest in the world, after France’s,” Desmond tells us. Why doesn’t this largesse accomplish more?

For one thing, it unduly assists the affluent. That statistic about the U.S. spending almost as much as France on social welfare, he explains, is accurate only “if you include things like government-subsidized retirement benefits provided by employers, student loans and 529 college savings plans, child tax credits, and homeowner subsidies: benefits disproportionately flowing to Americans well above the poverty line.” To enjoy most of these, you need to have a well-paying job, a home that you own, and probably an accountant (and, if you’re really in clover, a money manager).

“The American government gives the most help to those who need it least,” Desmond argues. “This is the true nature of our welfare state, and it has far-reaching implications, not only for our bank accounts and poverty levels, but also for our psychology and civic spirit.” Americans who benefit from social spending in the form of, say, a mortgage-interest tax deduction don’t see themselves as recipients of governmental generosity. The boon it offers them may be as hard for them to recognize and acknowledge as the persistence of poverty once was to Harrington’s suburban housewives and professional men. These Americans may be anti-government and vote that way. They may picture other people, poor people, as weak and dependent and themselves as hardworking and upstanding. Desmond allows that one reason for this is that tax breaks don’t feel the same as direct payments. Although they may amount to the same thing for household incomes and for the federal budget—“You can benefit a family by lowering its tax burden or by increasing its benefits, same difference”—they are associated with an obligation and a procedure that Americans, in particular, find onerous. Tax-cutting Republican lawmakers want the process to be both difficult and Swiss-cheesed with loopholes. (“Taxes should hurt,” Ronald Reagan once said.) But that’s not the only reason. What Desmond calls the “rudest explanation” is that if, for whatever reason, we get a tax break, most of us like it. That’s the case for people affluent and lucky enough to take advantage of the legitimate breaks designed for their benefit, and for the wily super-rich who game the system with expensive lawyering and ingenious use of tax shelters.

And there are other ways, Desmond points out, that government help gets thwarted or misdirected. When President Clinton instituted welfare reform, in 1996, pledging to “transform a broken system that traps too many people in a cycle of dependence,” an older model, Aid to Families with Dependent Children, or A.F.D.C., was replaced by Temporary Assistance for Needy Families, or TANF. Where most funds administered by A.F.D.C. went straight to families in the form of cash aid, TANF gave grants to states with the added directive to promote two-parent families and discourage out-of-wedlock childbirth, and let the states fund programs to achieve those goals as they saw fit. As a result, “states have come up with rather creative ways to spend TANF dollars,” Desmond writes. “Nationwide, for every dollar budgeted for TANF in 2020, poor families directly received just 22 cents. Only Kentucky and the District of Columbia spent over half of their TANF funds on basic cash assistance.” Between 1999 and 2016, Oklahoma directed more than seventy million dollars toward initiatives to promote marriage, offering couples counselling and workshops that were mostly open to people of all income levels. Arizona used some of the funds to pay for abstinence education; Pennsylvania gave some of its TANF money to anti-abortion programs. Mississippi treated its TANF funds as an unexpected Christmas present, hiring a Christian-rock singer to perform at concerts, for instance, and a former professional wrestler—the author of an autobiography titled “Every Man Has His Price”—to deliver inspirational speeches. (Much of this was revealed by assiduous investigative reporters, and by a 2020 audit of Mississippi’s Department of Human Services.) Moreover, because states don’t have to spend all their TANF funds each year, many carry over big sums. In 2020, Tennessee, which has one of the highest child-poverty rates in the nation, left seven hundred and ninety million dollars in TANF funds unspent."

- The New Yorker: "How America Manufactures Poverty" by Margaret Talbot (review of Matthew Desmond's Poverty by America).

#that last quoted paragraph is infuriating #class politics

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mallowninja · 2 years

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Spy x Family is super funny because if WISE just wanted Donovan Desmond stopped then they'd just instruct Twilight to infiltrate the parent parties at Eden College by having him assume the identity of another parent

Instead they tell him to get fake married with a kid, so clearly, WISE's master plan is to get Twilight to retire

#spy x family #i love this show #twilight is the dumbest smart person i have ever seen

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auroramoon-draws16 · 1 year

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Omw to procrastinate: 🏃🏽‍♀️💨

Desmond, my boi, my silly little guy, bartender of the AC afterlife!

Imagine him, our traumatized little Chosen One, carving out a space somewhere not in the Grey, but connected enough, to have some time wonky bullshit and end up meeting the Assassin’s Creed cast one by one.

So when they die, they meet Desmond, a reluctant sacrifice who finally gets to retire, and as soon as the first of them show up he just goes:

“Oh, I get it.” And sits them down with a good Shirley Templar, and just chats with each of them. (Even mixing drinks inspired by each person who walks in, crafted with their personal tastes in alcohol in mind)

So we just have a bunch of Assassins (and a few Templars) finally fixing things with each other and getting to know their stories. (Maybe in the form of playing their respective games on the bar’s big screen, who knows, that’s up to you-)

Oh and Clay is there too, because both of them got done so dirty. He’s just sitting on his designated stool playing Mario Cart lmao.

Geez, as much as I adore angsty fanfics with hurt no comfort, all I want is my bbies to be happy 😭

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mareposie · 2 years

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My dream ending for Spy x Family would be world peace with White Haired (due to stress) Loid and Bob Cut (work accident) Yor being a real couple under the Briar name and having a real wedding ceremony. Agent Twilight getting the recognization he lowkey wanted and becoming the new Handler. Thorn Princess can finally retire and take a break.

Then in the future Damian marrying Anya and joining HER family because he is happier with them. He also becomes a great politician who is focused on children’s wellbeing, Anya takes care of multiple orphanages and he takes care of neglected children. She is his secret weapon for success and he just offers her everything she asks for.

Their goal is to make a world where children don’t cry. They created scholarships for orphans with potential who would love to study in Eden and they act like parents for the first meeting. They are that power couple who is very famous and well loved by the people, Anya’s bubbly personality always compliments Damian’s sophisticated image.

They are backed up by very important personalities like the Blackbell’s heiress or Benedict is-a-good-fella.

Damian’s views are very different from the Desmond party and his father is not happy and ostracized him. Demetrius is secretly happy for Damian and chooses to leave him alone for his piece.

By joining the Briar family I don’t mean just Anya, Bond, Loid and Yor. I also mean Franky, Fiona, Yuri (and his family), Sylvia, Becky and everyone who is very attached to Anya, including Henderson. Even Camilla and Dominic are part of the family. They are all this one big clan that have a lot of influence in Ostania and Westalis.

Damian inherited a large property from Melinda and he decided to use it as a main residence for his entire family. There’s enough rooms for everyone whether they want to live there or they’re just on a vacation. Yor got her own garden and she grows vegetables she can cooks with her husband, they tried to make their own wine. Franky works on his technology stuff. Sylvia walks the dogs every morning and spends a lot of time with the Briar children. Auntie Camilla comes every 20th of the month to enjoy the pool with Auntie Becky. People just come and go, the mansion is always loud and busy. Uncles Emile and Ewen visiting with crazy gifts for everyone. Old man Henderson scolding and being grumpy every time he sees a lack of elegance.

Yor and Loid are the coolest grandparents ever, in comparison of how strict Damian and Anya can be (ironically). They adopted children and got two biological children accidentally but they don’t treat them differently. Funny enough, the biological children are not academically smart at all and collect Tonitrus bolts like badges of honor. Their eldest child is extremely mature, smart and composed, admires his grandparents and is insecure about going back to the orphanage.

Anya’s younger sibling is raised alongside with the new generation babies because Loid and Yor had a small drunk smooching session. The kid came very late and have a huge age gap with Anya, he has the Briar siscon syndrome. He has a 2-3 year gap with Damianya’s eldest child and gets kicked in the butt every time he tries to act like the uncle of the kids.

Damian is a busy man, so is Anya. Fortunately, they realized how they neglected their kids and fixed their schedule so they can spend a lot of time together.

Melinda visits Yor a lot and slowly tries to reconnect with her son, who is still a tsundere, but she’s glad and relieved to see how Yor never failed to take care of him as if he was her son.

Anya’s favorite moment is the supper during holidays, they have this large table full of food and everyone just eat together. Debating, getting drunk, silly competitions and laughing at loud. Pure bliss. She’s grateful and often cries in her parents’ arms.

it’s just a dream. I'm going back to sleep

#spy x family #spy x family headcanons #damianya #anya forger #loid forger #Yor Briar #twiyor

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ratgirlcopia · 10 days

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i've said before that i do think copia is the ghost equivalent of virgin mary but like. make no mistake, i do not think there is any sort of plot relevance to that. i think there are various motifs and funny references that you can point and go "ha, this is a goof about this particular biblical figure" and that's pretty much all it is. it's just a funny reference, and it doesn't correspond to any solid or unshakeable roles, because multiple references can apply to the same characters based on context and era and all that. that's not to say that the references don't SOMETIMES have significant implications in terms of characterization. for instance, a particularly discerning eye will note that the decapitation of papa iii and his parallels to john the baptist cast copia in the role of salome. which in turn is an obvious reference to norma desmond wanting to play salome in the Classic film (and later musical) sunset boulevard. which, naturally, solidifies my long-standing view of copia as a socially isolated older woman who will probably not cope well with retirement. but of course they won't teach you this in bible school. so it goes tragically under-discussed.

#copiaposting #read this with whichever level of seriousness makes it funniest.

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zeroducks-2 · 8 months

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If you're still taking them, #1 for the three word prompts? Some (angsty/soft possibly) Sladick, please?

"You are enough" Dick Grayson/Slade Wilson

(warning, Dick deals with dark thoughts and ptsd. There's a brief episode of self-harm but nothing graphic)

Slade doesn't know what, but something must have happened in Dick's life to leave such a deep, jagged hurt that permeates everything the kid does. It's the opposite to the airy lightness Dick used to carry around when he was younger, and even if at times it god dampened by a loss or a hardship, the kid always, invariably bounced back to his hopeful self.

Not this time.

This time, whatever this is, left Dick rarely smiling, often cold, wanting to be left alone. Friends and family alike stopped visiting him, and Slade understood that Dick is the one who pushed them away. As Nightwing he's quiet and strikes fast without letting his presence known, doesn't break a joke, doesn't humor his opponents. From hating him, criminals started fearing him even if the kid hadn't gotten more violent, just less friendly.

He tries to push Slade away too, but Slade isn't anyone. He doesn't mind the silent treatment, content to sit on rooftop with a soda and take away at the end of the night patrol, before the kid retires back into his lonely apartment. He doesn't mind the ways Dick tries to be disagreeable either; Slade is used to being hated, and Dick's veiled insults and attempts to make him leave sound like compliments compared to most of the things Slade has had to hear from people who wanted away with him.

It takes him months, but eventually Dick starts to relax around him. And Slade put the pieces together, and got to understand that whatever happened, happened around the time Roland Desmond died.

Dick won't talk about it though. Some days he needs warmth and he lets Slade sit behind him and cage him in his arms, nosing at his head from time to time. Dick doesn't ask but when it's those kind of days, Slade stays and sits on the kid's bed while he dozes off, or lays down and lets him sleep tucked under his chin. On one of those days Slade asks if it was Desmond who hurt him, and Dick huffs and maybe it should be a laugh but it doesn't sound happy. The he makes himself small and holds his own chest with both hands, and despite having turned so tense, Slade doesn't let up and keeps holding him, palms running slow and steady on his back and nape until the kid is relaxed again, tethering on the edge of sleep. Dick doesn't know what he did to cause Slade to act like this, but if initially he was frustrated and a little desperate to push him away, now he's... he's not sure. He's afraid Slade is going to get hurt like everyone else. Dick knows he should not by any means be around people, he's tainted enough lives with his presence already, but Slade... Slade is not like the others, he doesn't care. He wouldn't judge him. Sometimes Dick feels like Slade knows, and it's a feeling so strong it scares him and makes him want to pack up and leave and disappear forever, but then tells himself he's just being paranoid.

There's no way Slade knows. There's no way Dick would tell him, because at some point he realized that he wouldn't know what to do if Slade ended up judging him.

It wouldn't change anything, Dick knows it wouldn't, he knows he's poison and filth and he doesn't deserve an ounce of the kindness and warmth the man has inexplicably shown him. But Slade is not like the others, he's a mercenary and a murderer and so maybe, just maybe, he would understand and wouldn't hate him.

And as the days pass Dick feels less close to the edge, less like everything is happening around him in a blur. He finds himself cracking a joke during breakfast (because Slade is there). He finds himself comforting a child after helping families get out of a partially collapsed five stories. He hears himself hum to a song (because Slade turned on the radio). He's better. It's strange to consider because he wasn't fully aware of being unwell, but now that there's a shred of light he's able to look around and notice all the darkness.

And then one day he breaks down for something idiotic, maybe exactly because he feels less like he's suffocating so his emotions find a way to pour out, and he's not even sure what went down but he saw something in the mirror that made him recoil, bump into the nightstand and knock it down with lamp and everything. He blinks, and he's not sure how he ended up there but he's kneeling on the floor bleeding, and wrapping a piece of bedsheet around a long cut on his forearm, panting and sweating like he'd ran for miles. Slade's first thought is that the kid's been attacked, but then realizes that he just hurt himself. The mechanics of it aren't entirely clear to him but given how graceful and weightless Dick is, he's under the impression that this is not exactly an accident, even if luckily Dick tried to at least stop the bleeding.

«Let's get these checked out.» Slade considers while examining the wounds. They're not overly deep, not life-threatening. Slade is so relieved he needs to keep his own breathing in check. «Come on, kid. Put on some pants and let's go to the hospital.»

«No. No, no doctors.» Dick says, his expression scrunched in a strange wince as he look at his own blood pearling on the edges of the cuts. One of them resumed bleeding and his arm drips red in the sink. «You are enough.»

Slade doesn't react despite something tight just settled in his chest, and proceeds to stop the bleeding carefully, disinfect the cuts, and eventually stitch the worst of them. He does it slowly and methodically as opposed to his usual terse practicality, and it takes the better part of an hour but eventually Dick's arm is clean and securely bandaged. His expression is oddly plain at this point. He's pale, but Slade saw him lose way more blood than this and keep fighting. Seeing him so blank is scary, and it's the reason why Slade suggested the hospital, but Dick said no and he's going to respect that.

«If I only knew who hurt you,» Slade says in a low voice once he's put the kid to bed, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. «if you'd tell me, Dick. I promise I wouldn't kill them. But I would make them regret every breath they took from the moment they were born.»

The kid smiles, surprising him enough. Slade thought he hadn't really been there for a while. «Come to bed with me...?» He asks and the man complies, shedding some of his clothes and pulling Dick on his chest once he's laying down.

«Was it Desmond?» Slade asks, searching the answer in the kid's swollen eyes. He caresses his cheek gently, slowly like he could break him.

«Why are you so good to me, Slade...?» Dick asks instead of answering, eyes slipping closed at the touch. Not like he's relaxing, more like he's just so tired. «I did nothing to deserve it.»

«I thought you were asking why an asshole like me was acting like a decent human being...» He starts replying but stops as he sees the kid's frown. He leans in and kisses it, pulling him even closer, hoping he's not holding too tight but there's not way he's letting him go now. «This is not about what you deserve, little bird. I just care, and I want you to be better. That is all.»

Dick seems to make do with that answer, and nuzzles a place for himself under Slade's chin.

Thank you for asking anon ♥ I hope it was as angsty/soft as you wanted it.

Here's the prompt list for whoever wants to peruse it, or send me another prompt :)

#my asks #long post #my fanfictions #three words prompt game #sladick #not necessarily dark but not light either #surely not fluff #Dick is in a bad place

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breesays · 7 months

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My son, my sun

Where did my little boo learn to talk to plants? We take plant babies from Gramma Lita's massive yard, recently started propagating them in water. Nothing for the first couple of weeks. Then Des said, "Mama, let me hold them" - and he took the bulb in his hand, looked lovingly at that little would-be-could-be plant and spoke to it in a way that astonished me. "You are so beautiful" he said. "You are doing such a good job. I am so happy to see you." I died, they thrived.

Four nights ago we unwrapped a fragrant bath bomb and I said, "Mmm, rose" and he started serenading me, from the "wonderful roses" part of "Til There Was You" and who can even do that? I feel like if I want to sing something, even casually, I have to start from the top. He vocalizes the percussion part of songs. Chh chh chh. Probably not revolutionary, but something new for my brain.

Some of the moms who got a spot in TK are reporting back that one of their kids "goals" for the year is to count to 20. Oh. Des can count to 100, and in Spanish. The other day he taught me how to say "knees" in Spanish, which is when I found out he can sing "Head Shoulders Knees and Toes" in a second language. He remembers numbers really well, and has a good grasp of time. He can math way more at 4 years old than I could at like, 7 years old - and that's just because it's interesting to him, measurements and doubling things and how old was his friend Felix when he turned 2? Sometimes I just have to say, "That is a calculation I can't do on the fly, buddy."

He's growing his hair out long so he can make it curly, like his friend Vienna and his cousin Emerson. I wish he liked to read books together more, but maybe that will come later. It's OK if that's an interest we don't share. We make up new words until we're too tired, me channeling the IKEA catalog. Sometimes he says, "I have an idea - let's count to the highest number we know" to which I reply, "That does not sound like fun to mama, can we play a word game instead?" He also loves blowing up and popping balloons. Actually, he loves doing a lot of things with balloons - keepy uppy, birdy-flying, inflating then deflating, using them as stamps, talking about them on his imaginary YouTube channel...

He likes to eat seaweed snacks and will basically try any food at least once. He loves tomatoes, so much so that he will eat them like an apple. He steals my sushi and told me the pumpkin seeds needed "more paprika."

He makes funny observations. I took him to my work party recently and I told him Erica was in charge. When we looked back at photos from that night he asked, "Does Erica ever go home?" I said "Yes, of course, she has two kiddos of her own - why do you think that she doesn't?" He said, "Well, she's in charge."

My therapist is retiring at the end of the year, and then I won't have anyone to tell me what's healthy or adjusted anymore. I told her that sometimes Desmond says, "You know, Mama, I love Dada more than you." I respond: "That's OK, my love for you doesn't change." It doesn't hurt me, it makes me curious - what is he trying to accomplish? That non-judgemental curiosity they tried to summon from the depth of my cold being during the "can we save this marriage?" time - there it is! Therapist said: It's remarkable that he even vocalized this. It's called secure attachment.

For awhile I also wondered - does Des need therapy during this transition? He has asked why we don't live together anymore and I said, "not all families live together" - but all the families he knew of, did. So we got a couple books. Representation. Therapist said: Unless he is acting out, or it's disrupting, he is ok. Again, the fact that he's even asking these questions is GREAT. I do a value a good question-asker.

I'm still writing my book of essays and I've recently hit 38K words. I've considered publishing under a pseudonym, because I don't want to FIGHT about asexuality. I just want some previously unlearned people to know that it EXISTS. I publish most of my revelations and feelings about being Ace on my Medium. The blog that upset him was titled "Ace Week 2023" - and posted on Medium. I didn't have the time or mental capacity to react at the time. I just chose not to. Spiral, if you must - I will not add any fuel. But I did feel mad, when I unboxed that compartmentalization --

Sometimes I want to be kind and gentle and empathic because, wow we didn’t know anything, did we? There wasn’t the vocabulary for what I was experiencing. There were no alternate storylines to draw inspiration from. But sometimes I am furious, violated, underestimated.

If you just light the path, everyone will find their own way there, right? I’m the deer in headlights, then I run towards the inevitable crash. Scampering off into the unlit wild was somehow more intimidating. So, blind yourself. Numb yourself. Anything to get to the other side.

#breesays #parenting #medium #toddlers #therapy

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teecupangel · 1 year

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(6:46pm) Been thinking about this all day yesterday but Desmond who after the flair decides he wants take his chance at choosing what he can do for once and chooses to backpack across the world. Now this can even be more interesting if he does so while going through time since the ancestors and other assassin's are all over the world or if he did it after being transfered to another world. I imagine this decision was based on the fact that Desmond is used to having to be in the run a lot but this way if he manages to make everyone forget him after the flair, he could easily go see the rest of the world.

Desmond has the skills to do it too. With what he got from the Bleeding Effect and his training as an Assassin + nine years staying out of sight from both organizations, he could totally be successful in (illegally) backpacking across the world.

He doesn’t even need to work to pay for stuff. His Eagle Vision can be used to find hiding spots he could sleep in (maybe he’ll even score and find a vacant house with working water and a fluffy bed) and anyone that pings as red to him would mean he could nick their wallets and belongings without feeling any guilt. And, hey, if they turn out to be a very bad ‘the-law-can’t-judge-me’ person, Desmond knows 3 to 4 (maybe even 5) person-worth of ways to kill someone… After taking their cash and anything he can use that won’t get traced back to him, of course.

Whether his world or if he gets thrown into another world, Desmond’s goal is the same.

He just wants to see the world with his own eyes.

Not thru the memories of his ancestors.

Not thru the words and images given to him by people who know more about the world than he does.

He wanted to experience the world he saved.

Sometimes, perhaps those who are doing the right thing would get his attention and his assistance but only for a while. He will refuse any requests or demands to join any organizations or persons.

He had enough being a soldier.

Of being used by those who believe they know what must be done to ‘save’ the world.

Desmond had enough of all of that.

He’ll become a wandering ghost that no one could find.

Even if someone or something gets lucky, he’ll just find a way to slip away sooner or later. He cannot be contained.

He refused to be contained.

To Desmond?

This is just his retirement.

#if our boy wants to retire #our boy gets to retire #i like the idea that desmond keeps a journal #and he writes in them everything he had seen #and when you look #in the margins you actually see different handwritings #in different languages #commenting on desmond's writings and sometimes having conversations with him #and when the journal is filled?#he sends it to rebecca and shaun #backpacking desmond #assassin's creed #desmond miles #ask and answer #teecup writes/has a plot #fic idea: assassin's creed

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lolotheparagon · 4 months

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Sofia the First Season 2 in a Nutshell

Two Princesses and a Baby - 10/10

Amber wishes she wouldnt have to share her birthday with her twin James, so he gets magically turned into a toddler. Hijnks ensue. Another brilliant moment of character growth for Amber and showing how much she really cares for James, despite them being polar opposites.

The Enchanted Feast - 9/10

Miss Nettle returns disguised as a visiting sorceress in order to steal the amulet but Sofia is having none of that shit so she gets her critter army to stop Nettle. Also Snow White is here in properly the best media appearance she will ever get since Kingdom Hearts

The Flying Crown - 3/10

Sofia befriends the brooding jock Prince Hugo cos apparently she doesnt have a life. Look, I know you need to work with him to do your flying derby race, Sof, but dont bother with this Hunter expy.

Mom's The Word - 10/10

Its Sofia's first Mother's Day in the castle and she gets left out when her mother is spending more time with Amber and James. One of the show's core themes is teaching kids about blended families and Sofia struggling to adjust sharing her mother with her step siblings is very potent.

The Silent Knight - 4/10

Aunt Tilly falls for some NPC knight, when Cedric is right over there. Like show, if you were gonna ship any couple. I want sorceror failhusband and chaotic adventurer wife. Or hell, the drama teacher Miss Elodie for a gay option.

Enchanted Science Fair - 7/10

James, Amber, Vivian, Khaled and Desmond fight each over a science project but they all realise that Sofia is always right and they would all be dead without her.

King For A Day - 6/10

James tries being king to see what its like and yknow, this episode's hilarious to watch in hindsight cos its revealed James isnt even the heir to the throne lol

When You Wish Upon a Well - -4/10

Amber does something incredibly illegal but gets off the hook cos Sofia and their dad are enablers

Gizmo Gwen - 8/10

Aw cool, a castle maid who's also an inventor and engineer! What a wonderful addition to the ca-annnnd she's not gonna appear for the rest of the series, is she?

Sofia the Second - 10/10

Sofia learning about how to keep promises even if it means giving up something else? An evil Sofia clone who's a delightfully evil gremlin? Sign me the fuck up!

Mystic Meadows - 8/10

Sofia's girl scout group goes to a wizard retirement home where Cedric's parents live and she helps Cedric win his dad's approval and stop his micromanaging bs. Also, Hell canonically exists in Sofia the First and that fact alone is both disturbing and hilarious

Princesses to the Rescue! - 9/10

James and his friend Jin get captured by a discount Tai Lung and their dads end up being captured too cos theyre that stupid. So its up to Sofia, Jun and Amber to save the day. Also Mulan is here and its a nice touch they gave her the armour she worn throughout most of her original movie.

Ghostly Gala - 7/10

On Halloween, Sofia befriends the undead and convinces everyone in the castle that they're not seeing things, honest. Seriously, this girl could befriend Eldritch monsters and convince everyone that they're chill.

The Emerald Key - 10/10

A Hawaiian princess has lost a precious heirloom and washes up on the shores of Enchancia, calling for help. Another Hawaiian princess shows up, declaring shes the real deal. The Enchanican royal family immediately decide the best way to tell these two indigenous princesses apart is to get them to partake in white royal etiquette and activities and automatically assume the one doing the best at all of them is the real princess. Sofia realises that the imposter is always the whitewashed one.

Scrambled Pets - 5/10

Pet hijinks: the episode

The Princess Stays in the Picture - 3/10

Man, after Amber became a good person, the writers really doubled down on making her friend Hildegarde the new alpha bitch. Supposedly this was the episode to humanise her but honestly after watching this whole series, she really hasnt improved since this episode so it feels like lightning in a bottle we will never get again. The highlight was definitely Sofia yelling at Hildegarde's constant know it all attitude.

Baileywhoops - 8/10

Finally, Baileywick gets a good episode. I love the idea that Baileywick is such a good steward that EVERY OTHER STEWARD IN EVERY KINGDOM WANTS TO BE HIM OR WANTS HIS JOB. He's like the Alfred of this show.

The Curse of Princess Ivy - 10/10

Amber steals Sofia's amulet out of jealousy, unleashes an evil princess by mistake and now all hell's broken loose. Sofia really rakes Amber over the coals in this special and its glorious. Again, another episode that develops Amber as a character and its great to see the message of earning forgiveness and actually putting the effort in to change, instead of putting pressure on the victim to just enable their abuser's behaviour. Rapunzel's there as well with a banger song.

Winter's Gift - 8/10

Sofia meets a fawn named Autumn, who freezes everything she touchs and she fucking hates it. (Hmm, wonder why Elsa or Anna didnt show up in this ep?) However, Autumn fears the witch who gave her the powers in the first place won't do it cos she hasnt got her a nice enough gift in return. Turns out the witch is super nice, actually.

The Leafsong Festival - -8/10

Clover's dragon friend Crackle gives up her fire powers so she can be in a talent show but she has to get it back or THE ENTIRE KINGDOM WILL FREEZE TO DEATH AND APPARENTLY A SMALL DRAGON CAN MELT A KINGDOM'S SIZED COAT OF ICE.

Substitute Cedric - 10/10

Cedric begrudgingly decides to be substitute at Sofia's school for a day but turns out he really enjoys teaching and helps the kids practice magic on some wizard bullies. Cedric becoming more of a cool uncle is the best. Also, Sofia yelling the phrase "prank day is over!" to the wizard bullies as a war cry is really badass.

Clover Time - 4/10

Clover acts like a shitty roommate to Sofia, which is weird cos I thought Clover already lived with Sofia. Yknow, him being her pet and all.

In a Tizzy - -5/10

Ruby gets her own fairy godmother to help her build a cart and practice for a go-cart race. Thats neat! And yet, this all could've been solved if Ruby's mum was in the episode

A Tale of Two Teams - 6/10

I love how despite being a royal for like a year now, Sofia always chooses her old friends whenever she can. Neat how this is the episode where Jade actually needs glasses as her vision is causing her problems during kickoff. Amber also learns to manage and be a good coach. Man, the writers really put their all into giving Amber little intricacies with her character and James has...knight stuff

The Littlest Princess - 7/10

Sofia befriends a group of freeloading spirites who cause havoc in the castle and has to find a way to convince them to leave since that's the only way to get rid of them. I like how Sofia's flaw of being too trusting to everyone she meets causes trouble and Miranda gets to shine as being the best parent/role model in Sofia's life.

Buttercup Amber - 10/10

For some reason, Amber joins Sofia's girl scout camping trip and unlike the last experience with Baileywick, this one is actually fun. Seriously, Amber brought her entire wardrobe of dresses to camp and the girls inspire her to create a huge tent out of them. Nice to see Amber has changed a lot since Season 1 already.

Carol of the Arrow - -8/10

Ah yes, I love watching Sofia the First talking about anti-royalism, despite being set in a world where the royals are super friendly and interventionalist, there is no classism between the royals and commoners and that colonialisation doesnt exist. And yet we have a non-furry Robin Hood trying to help the common folk and Sofia's standing there like 'oh she's my fave celeb i cant be a royal!! i'll pretend to be a commoner again so i can show her royals can do something' but SHE'S GOT NO REASON TO HIDE HER IDENTITY COS SHE'S A FAMOUS PRINCESS AND ISNT EVEN HIDING HER NAME AND APPARENTLY FEM ROBIN HOOD FINDS OUT ABOUT HER AND REALISES OH HEY MAYBE ROYALS ARENT LAZY GOOD FOR NOTHINGS AFTER ALL. WASNT THERE A SCENE FROM TWO EPISODES AGO WHERE THE ROYAL FAMILY WAS GIVING AWAY FREE GIFTS TO ALL THE PEASANT CHILDREN IN ENCHANCIA. WHERE DID SHE GET THIS PRECONCEPTION FROM? ASPFSCEVRH WHAT IS GOING ON??!

Sidekick Clio - 3/10

Hildegarde acts like an abusive bitch to her friend Clio but instead of Clio leaving her and finding a new group of friends, she forgives Hildegarde after one apology. Oh and before you ask, Hildegarde doesnt retain her lesson from this in later episodes. I feel so sorry for Clio. Especially since she has a lot of fun potential as a side character.

#sofia the first

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stereksecretsanta · 5 months

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Merry Christmas, @thetommoway-oioii!

I hope you enjoy this. Here is all the fluff and cuteness for you with most of the tropes you requested.

*****

Tis the Season to be Merry (and to be Married)

The words came to Derek on a Monday morning about a month before Christmas.

He was in the kitchen that afternoon cooking dinner for… well, a crowd, basically. He and Stiles might have moved into their own house sometime earlier this year in a bid for privacy, but there never seemed to be a shortage of people suddenly popping in and out of their lives, especially to eat them out of house and home, and most especially during the holiday season.

Sometimes it was Derek’s parents, Desmond and Talia Hale, who had retired from handling the family businesses and the Hale Foundation, and were spending most of their free time either traveling or meddling in their children’s lives. Derek’s siblings also made frequent appearances, all six of them—Matthew, Valerie, Laura, Cora, Cameron, and Nathaniel—and each one bringing about their own brand of mayhem, chaos, and pandemonium.

And then there was Peter, Derek’s uncle, but the less said about him, the better. Derek was still wishing the man was too busy to make an appearance at the Christmas table this year.

Though it wasn’t like Stiles’s side of the family was any better. He only had his father, retired Sheriff John Stilinski, as immediate family—and Derek could already feel the headache at the two’s constant arguments about John’s love for meat and Stiles’s insistence on a diet—but Stiles made up for it with a found family numbering in… well, far too many.

There were his best friends, Scott and Lydia, with their own partners, sweet, gun-toting Allison and douchebag Jackson. Then there was their collection of friends like Erica who could castrate a man with her nails, tall and dark and silent Boyd, Kira who could wield a katana while wearing a skirt, Isaac who wore far too many scarves at any given day, and his boyfriend Danny who had blackmail material on everybody.

Derek paused in his cooking. They had too many people in their damn lives and in their damn business. He and Stiles should consider moving to, like, New Zealand or something. They both loved Lord of the Rings. They could probably go and live in a hobbit hole or something.

Though God knows their families and friends would still find a way to follow and pester them.

Derek resumed his cooking, putting the finishing touches on the chicken and the salad and checking that the brownies were baking perfectly. He passed by the refrigerator, pausing at the knick knacks that littered the surface.

Pride of place was his and Stiles’s photo from four years ago during their second year anniversary. They hadn’t been able to celebrate properly because Stiles had just finished a grueling shift at the hospital and Derek had been bogged down by paperwork from the university where he taught. Because of the late hour, all they could do was a fast food drive thru and then eat in the car. Stiles had taken a selfie photo of them.

They looked like crap, honestly—both of them obviously tired and worn, Derek’s tie was crooked and he had crumbs all over his shirt and Stiles was still in scrubs and had ketchup on his chin. But they were happy and in love.

Derek stroked the photo.

“I want to marry you,” he murmured, the words flowing from him like an exhale.

The words weren’t surprising and not even unexpected, not after ten years—two years of being annoyed by each other, two years of being friends, and six years of being together, one of which was spent here in the house they bought together.

Derek glanced out the window. It was a winter wonderland outside, interspersed with blinking lights from the neighbors’ Christmas decorations and the snowmen that littered the yards.

What was surprising was the urgency that came to him.

It was a cliche thought though, especially on Christmas, but maybe the festive season was getting to him, wanting him to find more reasons to celebrate.

Derek thought about Stiles as he cooked, thankful for the long vacation from teaching at the university that he could do this for his partner, especially since Stiles had pulled the short end of the stick when it came to shifts at the hospital this Christmas.

Derek thought about Stiles’s impish smile and his pretty eyes, thought about his voice, rich and soft, and about something funny he had said the other day—he said a lot of funny things all the time. He thought about taking lunch to the hospital a few days ago, only to have Stiles pull him into his office for a rather lengthy ‘thank you’ kiss and then complain about the amount of work he had to do as they ate together. (It was a lie. Stiles loved being a doctor, even if he had ended up being on duty on Christmas Day.)

Derek thought about Stiles’s dry wit and his sarcastic quips, how he played around with his Dad and his friends, how he adored Derek’s family, even though Derek’s siblings were insane. He thought about how soft he was during their quiet moments, how he curled into Derek’s touch and indulged in lazy sex and slow, lengthy kisses.

“I want to marry him,” Derek murmured the words to himself quietly.

It wasn’t so much that he and Stiles hadn’t considered marriage, but it hadn’t been a priority over the years, what with everything going on with their lives and families—Valerie’s son being born, John’s retirement, Scott and Allison’s wedding, Lydia and Jackson’s engagement, Stiles getting promoted, then that following year Derek had an accident and broke his arm…

Everyone knew he and Stiles were in this for the long haul. They obviously loved each other, annoyed each other, felt at home with each other, and they had plans and promises for the future and had started living together.

A formal arrangement just hadn’t been in the cards yet.

Derek heard a car horn and looked out the window to see Stiles’s jeep pulling into the garage. However, he highly doubted that they were not getting any other visitors that night. He finished the preparations just as the key was turning in the lock and Stiles’s voice immediately flowed into the once-quiet home.

“I’m home!” he called out, loudly and cheerfully. “And advance warning, we’re getting a bunch of strays tonight.”

Derek snorted. “That’s not new.”

There was the sound of shuffling and keys, and then muffled footsteps as Stiles moved further into the house. Derek was scooping servings into a large bowl when Stiles plastered himself to Derek’s back, arms snaking gently around his waist and pointy chin popping itself on his shoulder.

“You’re cold,” Derek said, not even fighting the smile that appeared on his face.

Stiles, just to be a jerk, slid his cold hands under Derek’s sweater. “Lydia, Nathaniel, Erica, and Boyd are all dropping by; and Mattie, too, which means he’s also bringing his baby girl, CC. They’ll be here in about an hour.”

Derek sighed. “All I wanted was a peaceful dinner.”

“When, in all our lives, have we ever had peace?” Stiles chuckled, kissing his cheek. “That smells good.”

“It’ll taste even better once you get comfortable and get changed,” Derek said, turning around to face him.

Stiles was smiling, and Derek had seen it a thousand times, but it was still the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. His pale skin was a little red from the cold, especially his nose, cheeks, and ears, his brown hair was falling messily across his forehead, and his eyes were bright and warm as they looked at Derek.

“No welcome home kisses?” he asked, those pretty lips pouting.

Derek chuckled and obliged. “Welcome home.”

They kissed for a few moments, long and slow and sweet, before Derek rubbed Stiles’s back.

“Go and get changed. In an hour, we’ll get your strays bothering us.”

Stiles let out a squawk of offense. “Hey! How come when they’re bothering us they’re mine?”

“Because you make just as big a mess as they do,” Derek said, pinching his hip.

Stiles cackled, dancing away. “But you already picked me, so you have to put up with it. No take backsies.”

He let out a raspberry, which was really unbecoming of his age, especially a doctor, and then laughed loudly as he ran off.

‘I want to marry you,’ Derek thought, smiling at his retreating back.

A formal arrangement just hadn’t been in the cards.

But maybe it should be.

The words came to Derek again and again over the next few days.

‘I want to marry you,’ he thought, when Stiles was smiling at him, talking animatedly, his hands flying as he talked about his cases at the hospital.

‘I want to marry you,’ he thought, as they were getting groceries, with Derek’s siblings, twins Cora and Cameron in tow, all of them getting more sweets and chocolates than what the grocery list indicated.

‘I want to marry you,’ he thought, as Stiles ran past him screaming, followed by Isaac, Kira, and Derek’s nephews as they engaged in a snowball fight. Laura was screaming in the background that she’d punch whoever gets snow in her newly-dyed hair, only to get pelted by snowballs from all directions.

‘I want to marry you,’ he thought, a flutter in his heart, as they walked around the Christmas bazaar one afternoon, ungloved hands tucked into Derek’s pocket as they looked for kitschy Christmas gifts for their friends. Stiles beamed at him, bright and carefree, his nose pink from the wind, and Derek tugged him close and kissed him right in the middle of the market. Stiles didn’t seem to protest, going by the enthusiastic way he responded.

‘I want to marry you,’ he thought, holding a sobbing Stiles close after delivering the bad news to a couple that their child hadn’t pulled through during the surgery. He stroked Stiles’ hair, his back, his cheeks, and held him tighter, even tighter.

‘I want to marry you,’ he thought, panting and aroused and flushed as they showered together, pressed intimately from head to toe with Stiles kissing his neck.

‘I want to marry you,’ he thought as he watched Stiles conversing with their parents, Talia and Desmond and John, talking about where they could go for next year’s family vacation—Stiles and Desmond were both pushing for Disneyland, for the hundredth time, as they liked collecting Mickey ears. John wanted somewhere with cows, for some reason.

“I want to marry Stiles,” Derek said, the words coming out of him, unbidden and sudden in the middle of dinner with their parents at the Hale Family Manor when Stiles had gone to the bathroom.

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” Talia cooed, eyes growing misty. “A new celebration for the family to look forward to.”

“Congratulations, son,” Desmond said, smiling proudly. “It’s been a long time coming.”

Derek turned to Stiles’s father, unsure what to expect, but the man was still enthusiastically into the steak he had managed to bribe Stiles into letting him eat for the night.

(“If you let me eat steak, I will drink all my medication and vote for Disneyland for next year’s family holiday,” John had said.

Stiles had looked torn, but he needed all the votes they could get. Family holidays were by majority vote.

A few minutes ago, just after Stiles had gone to the bathroom, John had said, in an act of betrayal, that he still planned to vote that they go somewhere with cows, possibly Switzerland.)

“Honestly, Derek, you two are practically married already, I don’t see the difference,” John said, shrugging. But he smiled. “You’re already family, but I guess it would be nice to put everything down in black and white.”

That night, Derek thought of the words and pressed them against the skin of Stiles’s shoulder as the younger man laid in bed beside him, breathing even and deeply asleep.

“I want to marry you,” Derek murmured reverently.

Stiles let out a sleepy murmur, snuffling a little, before turning into Derek’s hold, letting his warm and pliant and still-mostly-asleep self be gathered into Derek’s arms.

Derek pressed another kiss into his dark hair and smiled when Stiles squished his face against his neck.

As expected, Derek’s plan to propose to Stiles eventually made its way to their families and friends. He knew their parents wouldn’t have said anything. They knew better than to get ahead of Derek. But he knew one of his nosy siblings had probably heard and then blabbed about it. (He was betting on Matthew. He might be the oldest of them, but he was a shameless gossip.)

The constant hints and eyebrow raises during the yearly Christmas Eve dinner at the Hale Family Manor was a dead giveaway, as was Scott pulling Derek to the side for a speech—or something like that? Scott was awful at speeches—on taking care of Stiles, Erica almost spilling the beans twice before Boyd dragged his girlfriend to the corner to ply her with eggnog—which was probably the wrong thing to do—and Danny trying to coerce Derek not to propose until he got a betting pool going, with an offer to split the winnings. (It was honestly tempting.)

But it was Peter—who the hell invited him again?—who opened his big mouth.

“So, when’s the wedding?” he asked from his spot on the long dining table between Talia and Laura. Not even Talia’s death glare stopped him, but that was probably because of the two glasses of wine already in the man.

“Why is Uncle Peter even here?” Valerie asked, rolling her eyes at him. “I thought we made a rule that he’s banned here on Christmas.”

“It’s the other way around,” Cora spoke up. “He’s banned here, except for Christmas.”

John frowned. “We should add Christmas too, really complete the whole calendar.”

Peter ignored them. “So?”

Derek was sighing into his meal. Scott was groaning into his hands. Desmond was busy trying to wrestle the knife away from Talia. It would be awful if blood got on the Christmas placemats.

“Who’s getting married?” Stiles asked, confused.

“You and Derek, duh,” Peter said. “It’s high time you two stopped living in sin and finally tie the kno—” he suddenly found himself face down in his mashed potatoes from a well-timed smack on the head from Laura.

“Uh, what?” Stiles turned to Derek.

Derek took his hand.

“I told our parents I wanted to marry you,” he said calmly. He felt a touch nervous, but honestly he’d been thinking of the words so many times that it seemed so easy to say even in front of people.

Plus, Peter had sort of taken the wind out of his sails.

Stiles squeezed Derek’s hand.

“Marriage sounds good,” he said.

Peter blinked from where he was wiping his face and still snorting out potatoes.

“What?”

“I guess it’s high time we stopped living in sin, sweetie,” Stiles said, fluttering his eyelashes at him.

Derek sipped his glass. “Outdoor wedding would be great.” He raised his palm at Stiles. “Not Disneyland.”

“Fine. I get to pick the honeymoon then,” Stiles said.

He raised a hand at Stiles again. “Not Disneyland.”

Stiles pouted. “You’re no fun.”

Derek sighed. Stiles was so obsessed with Disneyland. “We can add it to the itinerary for a few days as long as you take time off from the hospital. We will not be getting calls during our honeymoon.”

“Deal,” Stiles said cheerfully. “I want an autumn wedding.”

Derek hummed. “That’s fine. You look beautiful in the fall.”

Stiles blushed. “Aww, Der.”

“Wait a sec! What just happened?” Peter blinked, looking around. “Did I do that? Did I get them engaged?”

“Peter is banned from our wedding,” Stiles immediately said.

Derek nodded. “Of course.”

“What? Oh, come on!” Peter whined. “I got you two engaged!”

“You did nothing. You were just nosy,” Stiles said, glaring at him. “And Derek already proposed a few nights ago.”

Derek looked to his parents. “I proposed that same night I told you.”

Stiles laughed. “No, you didn’t! You said it when I was half asleep!”

Derek shrugged. “Still counts.”

“Derek, you’re so boring,” Peter whined.

Stiles snapped his fingers, glaring at him. “Banned!”

John sighed and shoved food in his mouth. “Like I said, you two are practically already married anyway.”

“Well, we have been together for six years,” Stiles said, smiling at him, which enticed Derek to lean forward and kiss him.

“Congratulations!” erupted all over the table and Derek couldn’t help smiling.

Well, things didn’t go quite as planned, but that was all right. He was still marrying Stiles sometime in the future, and that was the most important thing.

“Peter, you’re still banned from the wedding.”

#thetommoway-oioii #stereksanta23

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layton-love · 5 months

Text

cape

desmond sycamore/jean descole x reader oneshot. gen neutral reader. sfw. tons of fluff. established relationship.

You miss him terribly when he's gone.

The hours feel like an eternity when you're waiting for your love to return. Whether he's giving a seminar to the esteemed individuals in the archaeology community under his professor persona or working in the shadows as Jean Descole, you miss your brilliant and artful lover. Today, however, is the former of those two scenarios: Professor Desmond Sycamore is holding a meeting in London to discuss some business with his peers in the field. You knew before you'd even started a relationship with him that he is a busy man and of course you understood; you'd never held it against him. However, it didn't change the loneliness that gnawed at your heart in his absence.

Thus, you found an alternative means of providing yourself some comfort...

It was late in the evening when Professor Sycamore began climbing up the stairs of the airship. He was heavy laden with books, paperwork, and exhaustion. The meeting had taken far longer than he'd intended, and then of course those imbeciles simply insisted on dragging him out to some miserable luncheon. The food was sub-par, the company was insufferable, and the weather was grim. Naïvely, he'd thought to escape once he'd partaken in the wretchedly mediocre meal, but then they'd wanted his expert opinion (of course he's an expert, which meant that it should be obvious that he was far too busy for their foolish nonsense!) on some “revolutionary” (“Hardly!” he scoffed inwardly) “new” (he'd heard of it weeks ago) unearthing of an ancient art piece that had recently been transferred to the London Museum of Historical Peoples.“

Ah, master! I was wondering when you'd return. I fear your midday, afternoon, and evening tea has long since gone cold. I will put a fresh pot on at once.” Raymond greeted him as soon as he'd entered the Bostonius. Heaving a long-suffering sigh of exhaustion, Sycamore shook his head.

“No need, Raymond. This day has been a near-complete and tremendously fiendish waste of my time. I have had a long and wretched experience with those bougie nitwits, though I was at the very least able to convince them to invest in my work. Unfortunately it gave them the impression that I would be interested in mingling; their hunger for gossip is almost as severe as their appetite for below-average fast food. There are only so many rounds of soggy chips and half-frozen fish fingers I can take,” He growled out with pain, “In any case, I am most certainly not about to allow them any room for shoving their big buffoon noses into my personal business! No matter, though... The day is done, and soon we'll be off elsewhere, far far away from these imbeciles. I have much more important business to attend to than entertaining their small minds. For the moment, however, I only wish to lie down for at least an ounce of peace. I'm utterly spent,” The archaeologist haphazardly abandoned his burdens onto a nearby table, too tired for further ranting, “If you would sort these for me, it would be much appreciated.”

Raymond nodded, uttering a quick, “Right away master,” as he immediately moved to engage the task.

Desmond massaged his face, exasperatedly looking around the room. His expression was strained, his gaze searching. Something very important was missing from this scene. Something he'd been looking forward to seeing all day.

“Where has my dearest gone off to then?”

“They retired to your room several hours ago, master. They've been rather mournful for your company all day.” Answered the butler honestly.

Desmond clicked his tongue, “This won't do at all. I shan't keep them waiting any longer. Thank you, Raymond. Goodnight.”

“Peaceful rest to you, master.” The older gentleman turned to him and bowed respectfully, bidding the professor adieu as he scurried off to your shared bedroom.

Quietly, Desmond pushed the door open, peering into the darkened room. Opening the door further, the light from the hallway spilled in, bathing your sleeping form in a warm glow. The man in the doorway stared for a moment. He could feel his irritated expression melting almost immediately as a long, slow exhale left him. The tension also began slipping away from his chest and muscles as he took in the sight of you, gaze softening with love. You were curled up on the bed, hair all a mess, your face buried in the blanket-

Wait...

Desmond squinted, eyes narrowed in suspicion. That... wasn't a blanket...

You were wrapped in his cape.

How had you found that??

Not only that, but the feather boa too, now that he looked harder. You were using it as a pillow, a small smile on your face as you nuzzled into the fluff of it. Leaving the door open for the light to see by, he approached your side of the bed, looking you over with his hands on his hips. You'd abandoned the Jean Descole persona's hat and mask on the nearby dresser, evidently pilfering only what you could comfortably sleep with. Desmond couldn't find it in himself to be cross with you. After all, Raymond had mentioned that you'd been missing him particularly badly... The longer he looked you over, the more his heart melted. He felt almost sick with adoration for you, like butterflies in his stomach. Ever so gently, he leaned down, reaching his fingers toward your face. With a featherlight touch, he lovingly brushed aside the strands of hair from your features, tucking them tenderly behind your ear. You let out a breathy hum at his touch, the sweet lilt of your sleeping voice buzzing in his brain.

“Oh, my dear, my love...” He whispered, devotion seeping from his words like a lovestruck poet. He could feel his face heating up from his neck as he looked upon you. From now on, he'd be certain to terminate any future attempts at waylaying him from returning home to you in a timely manner. Nothing was going to get between him and moments like these... certainly not wastes of space like his coworkers.

Desmond shook his head. No need for such things to consume his thoughts any longer. Not when he had you right there in front of him. A dreamy sigh escaped him as his lips curled up in a warm smile, unable to pry his gaze from you. His sweetest delight, his perfect partner. Oh, how he loved you. He looked you over, his gaze trailing across the cape that was wrapped so snuggly around you, gracefully outlining the form of your body. Even the darkest parts of him weren't able to resist your enchanting light, he let out a small huff of a laugh as his fingers traced the article where it met your form. You'd foregone the warmth of the bedclothes, the sheets and blankets still made up neatly beneath you. The only thing keeping you warm was that blasted cape.

What that cape stood for never seemed to bother you. You accepted both sides of him equally, happy to love every square inch of his being, his identity. At first he'd wondered if it was naïvety, sheer innocence, or perhaps even ignorance, but no. As time went on, he slowly began to realise that it was nothing of the sort.

You understood him.

Understood the depths, the pain, the darkness that swirled and crashed and raged within him. You listened, you observed, you thought. You cared. The two of you were different kinds of people, there was no denying this, this much was a mutual understanding. Even so, you found it within yourself to trace every jagged edge of his being and memorise it, understand it, figure out what it was and why it was there. Despite the monumental amount of hideous history behind him, you stood before it with an unabashed determination, even when he kicked against your efforts.

Desmond couldn't even begin to grasp why you stayed, why you persisted in your endeavour. He felt that you were wasting your time. He fought, wrestled, warred against himself in regards to your affections. He wanted it so badly, wanted your love, wanted to feel your arms around him – but it was a blow in the face to everything he'd worked for, wasn't it? A distraction. An obstacle between him and his goals. He'd resigned himself to living for one purpose for so long. Ultimately, it was Raymond who'd actually convinced him, evidently sick of watching him tear himself in half over his - at that point utterly undeniable - affections for you.

“It's like I can't breathe. I feel as though I'm drowning,”

“It's called falling in love, master. I'm afraid there's no cure, but it will get better with time, I assure you. You need only to let it in and stop trying to kill it. The more you try, the harder it fights back.”

He felt he'd never be able to thank him enough. How close he'd come to losing you. To losing this.

His hand curved around your cheek, hovering there as he sat next to you on the edge of the bed. You looked so peaceful... He didn't want to wake you up, but alas, his selfish side won out on this decision; surely you could spare just a few minutes of sleep in order to direct that breathtaking expression at him? To just let him hold you in his arms...

“My love...” He whispered, stroking your cheek, “I'm home now.” Leaning all the way down, he placed a kiss on your forehead. As he pulled back, he hovered just a few inches from your face, whispering your name as he rubbed his thumb across your cheekbone. With a small hum, your eyes fluttered open, blinking sleepily.

“Mmm... Hmm... Desmond...?” You muttered, half-awake.

“It's me, my darling. I'm here. I see you've made yourself rather comfortable with my cape while I was away, hmm?" He purred. He couldn't help himself but to lightly tease you. It must be a testament to his villainous nature, he figured, to be able to do that to a sweet thing like you. Was he Desmond or was he Descole right now? He truly couldn't tell anymore. You blurred the lines for him, but it was in such an intoxicating way, he found that he no longer minded.

“Desmond,” You repeated his name, relief heavy in the sound of it, sending shivers up and down his spine and a new wave of butterflies into his gut. You moved to sit up, and he leaned back to give you room. “I'm so happy you're home, I've missed you so much,” With that, you peeled the cape off of your upper half, freeing your arms in order to throw them around him. He welcomed your tight embrace, your face buried in the curve of his neck as he engulfed your form into his own arms. He couldn't restrain the happy, breathy laugh that left him as he caught you into his hold, pulling you up into his lap, as close to him as possible. He removed his glasses, tossing them onto the nightstand before his hand quickly found its place on the back of your head, fingers entwining with your hair as he gently moved you to look at him. Pressing his forehead against your own, he looked into your eyes - into your beautiful, gorgeous, hypnotic eyes - before pressing a desperate, needy kiss to your lips. You felt him kick out, hearing both of his shoes hit the ground and roll across it haphazardly, as he drew his legs up onto the bed.

He pressed forward, deepening the kiss, his hands roaming and up down your back, in your hair, seemingly everywhere at once. He finally simply grabbed onto you, pulling you with him in his surprisingly strong arms as he changed positions, his back against the pillows and the headrest of the bed, legs stretched out. Desmond broke the kiss for a moment, taking a breath. Looking at you, his eyes were glossy, hazy with the heat of the moment, an adorably wobbly smile on his face. His hand came up to cup your cheek as he pressed another kiss to your lips, this time much slower, sweeter, more methodical. A perfect fit, a perfect feeling. His lips were soft like the touch of his hands, though strong and loving. Full of want that he wouldn't usually let himself verbalise. Chest-to-chest, face-to-face, one of your legs wrapped around his, you could live in this moment forever. How lucky you felt, how on top of the world. He finally pulled away, needing air again.

He watched you for a moment more before whispering back a belated but wholly honest reply, “I missed you too.”

#professor layton x reader #professor layton spoilers #professor layton #professor layton series #jean descole #jean descole x reader #desmond sycamore x reader #desmond sycamore #professor desmond sycamore #my writing #my oneshots #my drabbles #my fics #my fanfic #also on ao3 #canon x reader #x reader

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xx-kaitlyn-trixx-xx · 1 year

Text

I honestly feel like a horrible writer, but I hope this turned out good.

This is a work in progress i wanted to post here, this is from an au ask about Desmond being thrown back in time as a woman, who came in as shay's Aunt. By blood or simply a woman his father considered his sister des became the his aunt.

The ask was sent to @teecupangel and from there you'll find the thread there, so again I wanted to do this thing after so many idea's broke out and I hope it's well received given im about to go to bed.

_______

When the eye was activated and that bitch lied about it not being painful all Desmond could do was scream, the pain was unbearable. But he saved the world from burning, sparing humanity for a short while until the next solar flare reared its ugly head.

Finally dying as his vision filled with darkness was a big welcome, especially if it meant no longer feeling like his body was seizing.

Waking up with a loud and very undignified girlish gasp desperate for air while accidentally hitting his head on something as he shot up quickly - or rather he hit someone else's head with his own unintentionally headbutting theme. When Desmond finally steadied his breathing he- more like she noticed alot of changes, being in the body of middle aged teenager going through a onslaught of hormones and emotions was not at the top of her bucket list. At. All. The person she headbutted had been kind enough to reintroduce himself when he had noticed that she didn't respond to her name in her confusion as it would turn out he's her brother.

Somehow des kept the memories of the young girl who tragically died before she was thrown into the girls body, by a godsent miracle the name of the girl who techically owned the body was named Des.

Des Cormac.

Des wasn't truly related to the man she now knew as her brother by any blood relations as she discovered, she didn't even get to grow up with him for that matter. But they had came to see eachother as friends then family. Having almost no documented information made it mildly easier to pass off any slip ups des would make trying to simply survive the time period she found herself in, the mentally grown adult did gather that the girl who died had no next of kin alive at that time and due to the kindness of her friend who later became her brother came to live with him and take on the last name Cormac.

Though the thought of her being a literal dead girl walking did make her shudder at times with disgust or discomfort.

The new last name felt upgrade compared to her previous one, while des, herself, and her father William did make up it didn't mean she could forgot all of what happened on the farm so quickly. The things done being unable to take back as the mental scars remained with her. The last name Miles held too much weight to it, feeling heavy like she was in chains it felt easier to say that part of her died the day she activated the eye in the temple. It was still unclear how she got here, but the woman felt that the isu were more mentally sick bastards for throwing her into the past and shoving her into another person's body.

But god, did a self-appointed retirement, sounded good, with no assassins or templars messing with her life. Just a young woman living her new life, getting to know those around her once more and taking on the odd and in chores to keep her hands busy at all time's as she secretly made lump sums of money on the side by making home remedies that actually work worth a damn.

It was odd the first few times she did so, with the protection of her identity being concealed by a plague doctors mask. She would be a liar if she denied finding some reactions hilarious, however did keep it professional to the best she could. It wasn't exactly hard for her brother to suspect she was up to some shenanigans whenever she vanished from the house and from town an hour or so only to return with herbs and the occasional animal that was processed for their little household to eat, he never confronted her or asked what she did only nodding when she felt she had to reveal her earnings to him to sooth some of his worries. He easily accepted this knowledge, feeling comfortable that he wouldn't need to worry about her too much.

She kept up her assassin training, under the cover of night or in the forests. Which was damn near difficult in a damned dress, her skirts nearly getting her killed or badly injured until she had enough and started to alter her wardrobe to better suit her activities. Only earning odd looks and rumors, older women pitying her as 'that poor unmarried cormac girl'.

Not like marriage was something she wanted anyways.

Having heard many stories about death being caused by people getting sick and seeing the almost- lack of hygiene and cleanliness, she was swift to get the cormac house clean enough that on the off chance someone got sick it wouldn't be due to the house. Afterwards she got strict with her brother to wash his hands thoroughly a few times a day, especially before breakfast and dinner. He did feel annoyed by her rule, however after a while he noticed that of all people in his social circles he was the one less likely to fall ill and came to appreciate his little sister's weird quirks.

#assassin's creed #aunty des #female desmon miles #in this desmon becomes a woman and essentially becomes a mother of two kids.#so tired...enjoy #don't know what to tag this honestly ngl y'all #shay cormac #can i go to sleep in a forever box now?

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