#( but i will write/plot there atm !!! )

[teecupangel]

Imagine if, during brotherhood, when Lucy started focusing more on getting the apple and less on keeping desmond safe, desmond's eagle vision started seeing her as an enemy. And he is sitting in the sanctuary and is messing with his eagle vision and does a double take when he realizes lucy is red

It starts off as red footprints leading to the villa.

Desmond found it during one of the few short breaks he was allowed to have. He figured he’d check the villa while he could still be hidden by the darkness of night and just… move around.

One of the things he missed from when they were in that hideout in Rome had been learning to move the same way as Ezio did.

Well…

Mostly, it felt like Ezio but, sometimes, before he could even understand what was happening, he would jump or move like Altaïr.

If he let his instinct takeover, it was like…

It would switch to whoever would have the better move that Desmond needed right now.

Not once did it felt like he was moving on his own.

That was why when his Eagle Vision activated on its own while he was just walking by the fountain, he knew that it was Altaïr’s habit and not Ezio’s.

Ezio used his Eagle Vision when there was a need to. Even if it was just a poke in his mind that he needed to, he would use it.

Altaïr used it regularly. Every three seconds or even less if he was feeling more paranoid than usual.

Altaïr used it like it was his real vision.

He used it like he was ready to be attacked at every given moment.

And now…

There were footprints glowing in red where everyone believed they were safe.

Desmond was immediately on alert, fearing the worst.

Templars.

Abstergo had found them.

He hurriedly followed the footsteps and it led him to Mario’s study. There were many footsteps all around the study but they all led to the hidden entrance.

There was no time to analyze the movements of the footprints. He followed the path quietly, his movements feeling more like fusion of Altaïr and Ezio making their way towards their target.

The Hidden Blade wrapped around his arm felt both light and heavy at the same time, his mind clearer than it had ever been.

He has his mission.

He has his targets.

He knew what to do.

But he stopped dead in his track, his heart beating louder and louder that it drowned out Shaun’s complains of him appearing ‘out of nowhere’ and to make a sound or something next time.

The grounds were littered with red footprints and Desmond finally had an answer to the silent question he had upstairs.

“It looked like only one pair of footprints but why was is moving all over?”

Seeing the footprints here and the locations of all their equipment, Desmond realized that the owner of these red footprints had been helping in moving and setting up the equipment they used.

And now…

“Desmond, are you okay?”

A familiar voice.

The woman who saved him from Abstergo and brought him to the Brotherhood.

The woman now shrouded in that sickening red glow in his Vision.

Can he truly believe his Vision?

Hell…

Seeing the dim blue glow of both Shaun and Rebecca, Desmond was reminded that he was still an outsider.

The three of them were close, members of the Brotherhood.

Even if Desmond was to tell them of the red glow he saw…

Why would he even believe that these two, more white than blue, would even believe his words over hers?

It would be easy to destroy any of his accusations.

‘Desmond has been in the Animus for too long.’

‘It’s the Bleeding Effect. Who knows? Maybe he’s seeing me as someone less. Someone like Lucrezia Borgia?’

Worst case scenario, they might sedate him and push him into the Animus under the excuse of ‘this is for your own safety’.

Desmond couldn’t even be sure if this paranoia was his or Altaïr’s.

Hell, at this point, it could the both of them and Ezio’s as well.

What he did know was…

“It’s nothing.” Desmond blinked.

The world burst into colors once more.

And Lucy Stillman stared at him with the same concerned expression she always had.

Was she truly concerned?

Was she acting?

Desmond couldn’t be sure.

What he did know was…

He needed to figure out if Lucy was red because she had her own agenda that would be detrimental for him.

Or…

If she had turned her back from the Brotherhood and was a Templar sent to keep Desmond-

Ah.

Ezio’s memories.

That was what she was after, wasn’t it?

The Apple.

Like how Vidic desired the map from Altaïr’s memories.

Well…

He would play along for now.

He’d make a plan while he lets Ezio’s memories play out.

It’s alright.

Now that he knew he was alone.

He had all the time in the world to plan.

.

(I will say that if this was an actual fic, I would suggest naming this Red Shoes as reference to the fairy tale the Red Shoes)

The red footprint is based on the one you can find in AC Brotherhood as explained in the trivia section of Eagle Vision wiki.

[ecstarry]

you should never ask a woman her age, a man his salary and a fanfic author when they are posting

[hamletshoeratio]

Can y'all just be you know normal Marina Thompson for like 5 seconds? Because christ, the sheer Misogynoir that some of you spread about her character is insane and you don't even realise it.

[bvidzsoo]

So, I’m working on it…

Guys…ngl this oneshot is taking too much effort for me to write (I’ve been feeling unwell lately ngl) so unfortunately there won’t be a “Love Me Like A Rockstar” update this week because I really want to finish up this story. I’m sorry and I hope you understand! 🫶🏻

[mashmouths]

so i started this show and it just gets worse and worseeeee not only did it lift the romance subplot directly from twilight (and not well) but they also are trying to play the forbidden love angle hard in the fantasy racism vein except it's a "cross-species" relationship between the two whitest people i've ever seen in my life and there are three people of color in the whole (first season of the) show who aren't villains and it seems that every other episode (and sometimes ebery episode and sometimes twice an episode!) there is a man physically or magically subjugating a woman and i keep waiting for the big reveal at the end to be stolen from fucking rainbow rowell

[the-blue-eyed-firebender]

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

heya, i have to wake up in three hours but! here's another lil human au snippet! ft. lightly implied Laughingstock! disclaimer i am so so tired so don't come at me for typos or strangely worded sentences or missing info <3

~

Before heading home, Eddie swings by a charming little store he’s been to once or twice before. He usually goes to the chain store by his house, but he doesn’t feel like dealing with the hustle and bustle and the endless aisles. This little store is quiet, nice, and strangely has everything anyone could need. 

The lot is mostly empty at this hour, so Eddie claims a spot right at the front. As with the other times, the windows are littered with displays and stickers - half off on this, sale on that. Eddie enters Howdy’s Place with the chime of the door’s shopkeeper’s bell. He’ll get what he needs and get out, quick and easy and peacefu-

Boisterous laughter slams into Eddie like a hammer, so sudden that he jumps in place. An employee stocking cans nearby glances weirdly at him. Eddie clears his throat and hurries into the nearest aisle as the laughter tapers off. The silence barely lasts a second before loud chatter starts up. It’s too fast and muffled for Eddie to understand, but he can pick out two distinct voices - one deep, one less so but still decidedly masculine. 

Eddie tries to tune it out as he gathers what he needs. Toothpaste, some paper towels, shampoo. For the hell of it, he nabs a box of classic bran muffins from the spacious food section. He lingers for a moment, enjoying how far-away the conversation seems at the other corner of the store. Unfortunately, theft is illegal, so Eddie is forced to move towards the noise.

A strange thing about the store - it’s a combination general store, antique shop, and diner, complete with a miniature gift shop separating the two. One long checkout counter stretches from the open store area, behind the gift shop, and into the diner, where the conversation is coming from. An interesting setup, but an understandable one. It allows anyone behind the counter to move fluidly between customers and sections.

As Eddie approaches, the conversation becomes slightly clearer. 

“-said, no wonder you didn’t get her number!” the deeper voice barks, and the two dissolve into that almost-too-loud laughter again. 

As it tapers off, the other voice says, “Sounds like a real charmer! But really, you oughta be careful, Barn. One of these days someone’s gonna throw a right hook at ya.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up. A transatlantic accent? He hasn’t heard that anywhere outside of real old movies and a queen he once knew. It sounds natural too, like the man was born to sound like he belongs on a 1920s radio show. It nudges something in the back of Eddie’s mind. He’s started to get really sick of that nudge.

“Oh, this guy did.”

“No kidding? I don’t see a shiner.”

“Well, yeah. I went left.”

Both of them laugh again, and Eddie feels a tiny tug at the corner of his mouth. That wasn’t funny enough to garner an actual laugh in his opinion, but it wasn’t unfunny. 

Eddie steps up to the counter and quietly puts his acquired items on it, not wanting to interrupt. He chances a glance to the side - walking space in front of the counter’s length lets him see right down into the diner.

A large man with dyed-blue hair and an interesting fashion sense is at the bar, talking to an employee leaning against the other side. The employee doesn’t really catch Eddie’s gaze, but the other man… Eddie swears he’s seen him before. He studies him from the corner of his eye, not wanting to be rude but unable to mind his business. 

“Our bouncer didn’t even get a chance at the action - the idiot knocked himself out tryin’ a second swing!” The customer says. His deep voice, wavering with humor, only adds to the sense of familiarity. Metal glints in his right ear. Eddie knows this man from somewhere.

The employee shakes his head, tutting. His busy hands polish a vintage pitcher. “I swear, you get all the crazies.”

“Makes for a good story, though.” The customer takes a sip from his tall milkshake and scoffs. “Though if it wasn’t all well-ending, amusing bull, I doubt I’d be so tolerant.”

Minutes drag by as the two keep talking. Eddie goes from patiently waiting to awkwardly trying to get the employees attention. If only there was someone else behind the counter, but the only other staff member is elsewhere, likely still stocking shelves. 

The two men are too absorbed in their little world, even though both are facing Eddie’s way. The customer has both elbows on the counter, one of them bent to prop up his chin. The employee has his hip leaned against the edge as they chat. They’re obviously very familiar with each other, and clearly deeply enjoy each other's company. 

Still - and Eddie is sorry to say, but it’s bad customer service. He’s not in a rush, but he’d still like to be on his way home. He could be fishing out the complex keys right now. He checks his phone - he’s been here for nearly fifteen minutes. Picking out the items took less than five. 

Eddie sighs, staring at the various cigarette packs displayed behind the counter. He’s never seen the appeal in smoking, but as the laughter starts up again, he almost wishes he did. He’s going to treat himself to a very long shower once he gets home. 

The store’s other employee walks behind the counter, carrying a box. Eddie lights up. Finally - she pointedly clears her throat and heads into the back. 

The constant conversation stalls for the barest moment, and he looks over. The customer grins at him for a second - lord he’s handsome - before turning that grin towards his friend.

“You’re losin’ your touch, Howds,” he teases, bringing his shake straw to his lips.

“I resent that statement. You’re just distracting.”

“Lil’ me? Distracting? C’mon, you can just tell me I’m pretty to my face. I’ll take it like a champ, I swear!”

“Ha, good try.” The employee sets the pitcher down and starts to mosey in Eddie’s direction. “Your ego is big enough for the both of us as is. One more compliment and your head’ll pop like a balloon.”

“Well, given that most balloons don’t really pop, they just kinda deflate slowly-”

“Sorry for the wait!” the employee says loudly in a glaringly obvious customer service tone. He stops in front of Eddie with a cardboard smile. At the other end of the counter, the familiar man snickers and hides his grin behind his drink. “I trust you found everything you did - and didn’t! - need.”

Eddie just stares up at him for a moment. At six-one, Eddie hasn’t felt small in a very long time. He usually stands at least a full inch above other people. This employee - Howdy, his name tag states - has several more on him.

“Uh, y-yes, I uh, I did,” Eddie stammers, glancing at his items. 

“Wonderful! And again, my sincerest apologies for the delay. My friend makes a game out of keeping me from my job.” Howdy shoots his ‘friend’ a glare with enough heat in it to make an ice cube sweat. 

“No worries.”

Howdy scans the items at an almost frightening speed. Beep, into a paper bag. Beep, in. Beep, beep - “Oh, no.”

“What?” Eddie says, dread plucking at his ribs as Howdy holds the bran muffins and shakes his head. “Is there somethin’ wrong?”

“Indeed there is! You’re making a mistake with these. They’re absolutely horrible, I tell ya - and bad for you, too!” Howdy tuts and puts the box to the side. “No, no, you don’t want those.”

“I… don’t?”

“Not if you knew better! Lucky for you, I’m here to set you straight. What you need is-” he snaps his fingers, “Barnaby, be a pal and-”

“Already on it,” ‘Barnaby’ says, appearing next to Eddie.

If Eddie weren’t already paralyzed, he’d jump right out of his skin from how Barnaby towers over him. He has to be a scant inch or so shorter than Howdy, but he still makes Eddie feel tiny. Unfortunately, Barnaby is even more handsome up close. 

“Here ya go.” Barnaby hands a plastic container to Howdy and taps it, smiling lazily down at Eddie. “I’d take his advice on this one. Those bran-named muffins may sound fancy, but they’re pretty crumby! You want muffins of quality. Real breadwinners!

Eddie can’t help a soft laugh. “Breadwinners, heh, that’s a good one.”

“Are you selling these or am I?” Howdy says, raising a bushy eyebrow. 

“Hey, I’m just doin’ what you asked! I’m bein’ a pal.”

“And I - I’m sorry," Eddie interjects, "but you’re awfully familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?”

“Eh, I’ve been around, but uh… you ever been to [INSERT GAY BAR NAME HERE]?”

Howdy clears his throat. “I’m trying to make a sale here, Barn. You can flirt on your own dime when you’re not costing me mine.”

“Didja know your nose gets redder when you’re jealous?”

Howdy rolls his eyes and shoves Barnaby in the diner’s direction. Barnaby goes with a hearty snicker. Despite the joke, Eddie thinks it has some merit as Howdy scans the final item and rings him up, considerably frostier than before.

Belatedly, Eddie realizes that he didn’t actually agree to the different muffins. Too late now. “Say, what kind of muffins are those?”

“Poppyseed-lemon.”

Eddie relaxes - that is a lot better than boring bran. “Y’know, my mother loved poppyseed-lemon muffins.”

“Did she now,” Howdy drawls.

“Like you wouldn’t believe! If baking was so much as mentioned, she’d jump right on houndin’ us to whip some up for her, or send us to go buy some. We’d never even get a taste! They’d be gone the moment they hit the air, I tell ya.” Eddie chuckles. “Took me a while to understand what all the fuss is about, but man was she right. They are good!”

“Uh-huh. Well, we have a fresh batch delivered every morning. They’re not the same type every time, mind you, but I can promise that they’re all of the highest quality.”

“Breadwinners, right?” Eddie jokes. Howdy doesn’t blink, but Barnaby snorts. He’ll take it. “I might have to come by more often, if that’s the case! Thank you kindly, sir.”

“Mhm, have a good day.” Howdy hands him the bag and strides away without a glance. The dismissal is clear as day. “Say, Barn, did you hear about the racket one of those cult crackpots stirred up at our dear friend’s tearoom?”

Eddie doesn’t catch the tail-end of the sentence as he hurries away, but he frowns. Cult? What cult? There’s a cult? He certainly didn’t hear of one before moving here, and none of his background checks had turned up anything of the sort. He hopes it was just a figure of speech. 

The door chimes again as Eddie leaves. It isn’t until he’s in his car that the embarrassment of that whole exchange catches up with him. If he had a nickel for every time he’d made a fool of himself in front of a gorgeous, strangely familiar man, he’d have three nickels. At the rate he’s going, he’ll either be rich, or he’ll have to move. 

Eddie subtly tries to peek around the store’s window displays from the safety of his car. He catches a scant glimpse of blue hair - come to think of it, it’s a similar shade to Wally’s. But where Wally’s had, to Eddie’s memory, been uniformly dyed right down to his eyebrows, Barnaby’s rich brown roots were obvious. His beard and eyebrows weren’t dyed, either. 

As Eddie relaxes back into his seat, he re-reads at the store’s name. The color drains from his face and he barely restrains himself from slamming his forehead against the steering wheel.

Oh, of course. Of course he made a fool of himself in front of the owner. Eddie can never come back here again. And it was such a nice store…

[themyscirah]

Ok game time which 3 series would you just DIE to get a run on ? I'm talking full creative control, can be as a writer or an artist + plotter if that suits your vibe best

My 3 are

Suicide Squad

Wonder Woman

Green Lantern Corps/Green Lanterns

(in that order)

[theminecraftbee]

The room is a dim basement room. It has no windows. There’s a liquor cabinet, though, and a bookshelf full of notebooks, and a table and chairs, and a candle lighting the place. The candle doesn’t let off much smoke, but it’s steadily alight, indicating that the room’s oxygen content is still acceptable. A small, blinking device next to it confirms that any other electronic device in the area is well and truly dead. There’s tape sealing the door, so that no one can see the flicker of the candle inside.

There’s a bottle of brandy on the table. The glasses suggest neither party is bothering to savor it. It’s not a brand worth savoring, anyway; for all Scott could easily afford the expensive stuff, that’s not what he feels like he should drink while he’s down here.

He’s slumped forward on the table, hair askew. The hoodie he’s wearing doesn’t fit, because it isn’t his; neither are the sweatpants. He knows for a fact his contact is laughing at him for that. Whatever. She’s one of the only people who gets to know he has enough of a personal life to steal sweats from someone else anyway. May as well take advantage of that while he can. It’s not all impeccably-designed bulletproof suits out here.

“I hear congratulations are in order,” Pearl says from across the table.

“Fuck off,” Scott says.

“...are you already drunk?”

Scott huffs. “So what if I am, huh? It’s not like I need to be alert while you’re out here in full costume.”

Pearl peels herself off the wall. She’s a relatively muscular woman wearing red and black. Her face is masked with a simple red circle. A lunar eclipse. Scott still has no idea how she sees through that thing. He’d made fun of her, back when she chose the getup for her criminal activities. Told her she looked like an evil dinnerplate or something. She’d told him in turn that he looked like a pretentious dork in his chosen costume. Judging by the whispers through the Hero Association about the two of them, though—

God. Through his Hero Association, or just about his. 

“Promoted to Vice Commander, huh?”

“I’ve sold my soul,” Scott says, and he takes another deep swig of his brandy. 

“You already did,” Pearl says.

“God, I hate you,” Scott says.

“It’s a good thing the feeling’s mutual,” Pearl says.

“I wish we’d never fucking met,” Scott says.

“I killed someone yesterday,” Pearl says.

Scott’s quiet.

“You can’t go telling me that,” Scott says. “That’s another thing to hide. You can’t just—Pearl.”

“I know,” Pearl says. “I know. But for all everyone’s scared of me, I normally manage to avoid—”

“Hah. We were both there when—”

“I know,” Pearl says. 

Scott sighs. He pours Pearl a glass and pushes it across the table. Pearl takes off her mask. Her eyes are rimmed red, and her face is covered in splotches. She’s always been terrible at hiding she’s been crying. She’s been terrible at it since they were ten, and had both quite suddenly realized that if it had been hard to have their powers alone, it was even harder once there was evidence they weren’t both just going crazy.

He’s hated her since he was eleven, really. Took the year to realize he probably would have always seen what his powers gave him as useless nightmares, otherwise, but after that, well. The feeling’s mutual, at least. He wouldn’t have been able to stand it, if the feeling hadn’t been mutual.

(A girl who can see deaths, and a boy who can see alternate universes. They make quite the pair.)

“I probably kill more people,” mutters Scott, halfway between a consolation and a competition.

“Not with your own hands.”

“Yeah, does that make it better? I’ve sold my—you know this. You know this.”

“Yeah,” Pearl says. “Yeah, I know. Thought I should congratulate you on succeeding.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome!”

They’re both quiet for a while. Pearl takes a drink from her own glass and grimaces. “You can afford better brandy than this,” she says.

“Fuck off,” Scott says. “I can buy the cheap stuff for this.”

“Your taste is stupid,” Pearl says primly. “Next time we come down here to plan, I bring the drinks.”

“Right. Planning. Because we’re doing so much of that today.”

Pearl sighs. “Does Jimmy know you’re here?”

“Jimmy doesn’t exist, as far as you’re concerned,” Scott snaps. “I buried the man’s documents myself.”

“Eclipse will make anyone exist for the right price,” Pearl tells Scott.

“Jimmy doesn’t, or you don’t,” Scott snaps, voice low.

“Oh, now you’re sounding like a Vice Commander.” Scott gives her a two-fingered salute. Pearl shrugs. “Just saying.”

Scott considers arguing harder. Instead, something in his stomach shifts, and he pours a full glass of brandy. It’s not how you’re supposed to drink the stuff. He might have a good tolerance by now, but he fully expects to wake up with the worst hangover he’s had in years tomorrow. He deserves it.

“You uh… got enough alcohol there?” Pearl says.

“Got unclassified access to the Black Ops files when I was sworn in,” Scott says.

“Jesus,” Pearl says.

“I sold my soul,” Scott says. “I’m in charge of that now.”

“Jesus,” Pearl says again.

“And I kept thinking about the plans we had to—I can’t just dismantle that, Pearl. I can’t just—what are we doing?” Scott realizes his shoulders are shaking. “What are we doing, Pearl? The best of all possible endings? Don’t make me laugh—I can’t see this universe once we’re in it. Who are we to decide, huh? Who are we to, to try to…”

Pearl watches him for a while.

“I could have told you it would be bad,” she said.

“Do you think I didn’t know that?” Scott snaps.

“I killed someone yesterday. It’s not uncommon,” Pearl says.

“Great, so we both deserve to be executed!” Scott says, throwing his hands up. “Some of them started in the scholarship program, Pearl, they were scouted at sixteen!”

“And we were eleven,” snaps Pearl, and Scott shuts his mouth and looks away.

“Yeah, well. That’s not the Association’s fault, is it.”

The air hangs heavy. It smells like booze and candlelight and misery. Distantly, Scott wonders if Pearl was maybe right, asking if Jimmy knew where he was. The only other person on the list of people allowed to know Scott has a personal life, and he’s going to be disappointed in Scott again. Great. Scott’s lucky that, legally, the man doesn’t exist; if someone who legally existed was mad at Scott, he might just finally have to do something about it.

“You’re right,” says Pearl, finally. ”What are we doing?”

She slumps forward in her chair. She knocks back her own drink, but doesn’t pour herself another. Scott isn’t surprised. It’s not safe for both of them to be drunk. If the newly-promoted Vice Commander of the Hero Association is caught drinking with an infamous information broker, it’ll be the end of their house of cards. Scott’s powers helpfully decide to show him what happens at this juncture in that universe. Scandal, collapse, corruption—the worst part is, he thinks, is that it can’t even be all that different from this universe, only that the guy on the inside trying to change anything won’t be in power to do so. Maybe it would even be better.

Pearl ‘slits her throat’ in the night, his powers inform him. It’s not a suicide.

Scott can be selfish about that much. So can Pearl. They can’t be caught.

“I already knew most of it,” Scott says, finally. “But I’m in charge now. I sign the orders, right next to the Commander. I sign the ones his name can’t be caught on, too. I’m in.”

“Who better to lead than a man who can see the future?” Pearl says.

“You know that’s not how it works,” Scott says.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taunted you,” Pearl says.

“Jesus. Don’t apologize. You’ll make me think you’re an imposter,” Scott says.

“Yeah, well, the plan goes forward,” Pearl responds.

“Sure. Yeah. The plan goes forward,” Scott agrees. “The plan goes forward.”

Pearl reaches her hands across the table. Scott looks at them and, after a moment, reaches his own across to grab them. They sit there, holding each other’s hands, for a while, and it’s almost like they’re ten, and every horrible future the two of them can see flash by as possibilities is the end of the world, instead of another messy quagmire of maybe-just-as-bad-as-this-one. It had seemed much clearer then, really. It had seemed much easier. Scott doesn’t know. Maybe they were just stupider as kids.

Then again, he’d hated Pearl by eleven. He couldn’t have been that stupid.

He squeezes her hand tighter.

“Do good by them?” Pearl says, and it’s quiet and pained.

“Yeah,” Scott says.

“Okay,” Pearl says. “Okay.”

Slowly, Scott lets go of Pearl’s hands. He grabs the brandy again. He pours another glass. “I’m gonna get blackout drunk now,” Scott says.

“Sure. Just for tonight. I reserve the right to be sad and drunk next time,” Pearl says.

“Great planning,” Scott says.

“Yeah, well, we’ve still got a few hours,” Pearl says.

“I hate you,” Scott says.

Pearl smiles, for some ungodly reason.

“Yeah, me too.”

They stay there until Scott’s too drunk to stand up straight, and then Pearl lifts him around her shoulders and gets him outside to a cab. In the clothes he stole from Jimmy, no one can recognize him anyway. He’d think the hair would be distinctive enough, but apparently not. He won’t be caught today.

He muddles forward into the one future he can’t quite see.

[vonkarma2]

on here the arcane tag is all jayvik posting. whereas on the reddit the top posts are all like memes about the plot or something + I would say majority are about the female characters its bechdel test central over there. and all the thirst comments are about caitvi. it makes the reddit seem so feminist it’s crazy

[afandomroom]

I will say, as much as I enjoyed Dragons Rising there is one thing that's been bothering me. And that's how absent Jay has been.

Like for season one it was fine and even made sense, even after the Agent Walker Reveal. His absense was very noticable, at least for me, which kept me wondering where the heck he was. And then he's revealed which makes for a great unanswered "wait. WHAT???".

But then...season two rolls around. And he's revealed. And then he's gone. Again. All within an episode or two. Like he was just thrown in for a quick surprise and set up for the side plot next season and that's it.

I definitely wasn't expecting any further answers about him this season, not when the plot was focused on something else atm. But idk. I wish they'd maybe let us see him be a part of Ras's group before revealing him to the ninja, or had him be revealed to the ninja but not have him fight Nya until a few episodes later. Something that builds some tension and establishes a new dynamic between him and other characters instead of getting that part of the plot done as quick as possible.

[teecupangel]

I had a thought earlier: What if Ezio was Desmond's Sage?

Basically, the usual setup with Desmond using the eye to contact Ezio in the library and offering to send him back in time to save his family, but due to the damage he's sustained from the Eye, he can't come with. Once this moment in the Grey is over, he would die. Ezio begs him to come with him, through any means possible. He refuses to leave behind the divine being he is the chosen Prophet for. The being who is going against Fate itself to give him his family back. Desmond just can't say no to Ezio and tries to see if there's anyway he could come with Ezio. He doesn't want to die if he can avoid it. It's then, through the connection with the Eye and the Apple, that he learns about Sages. With a few modifications for Ezio's safety, that could work. Instead of consuming Ezio's mind to take over, he would just live alongside him. When he tells Ezio of it, Ezio accepts.

.

.

When Ezio wakes up, it is to his childhood bedroom. Everything is how it was when he was 17. Is 17. It worked! His family is alive and well! Did the Sage thing work?

"Desmond, are you here?"

'Yes Ezio, i am.'

.

Just a thought i had. I imagine that Ezio could let Desmond have control of his body, but Desmond is pretty chill with just watching though Ezio's eyes.

Ezio would have mind conversations with Desmond, which worries his family a lot when they catch him just staring emptily though the air. That and his complete switch in behaviour.

There's probably so many routes to go here, but i'm too sleep deprived to think atm. XD

It doesn’t take long before Desmond realized that all the modifications he made for his consciousness to become part of Ezio had turned him to be the least invasive Bleed to ever be conceived.

Did this count as possession?

Was Ezio even a Sage or was Desmond simply a sentient Bleed?

Wait.

Did that mean that the Bleeding Effect mimicked the experiences a Sage goes through when they start ‘getting’ the Isu’s memories.

Didn’t that mean that there was a possibility that the Animus was based on the research the Isus made to create the-

“Desmond, as interesting as your thoughts are about this subject, I’d prefer it if you were to. Focus!” Ezio was unable to stop himself from raising his voice as he punched one of Vieri’s hired muscles as Desmond liked to call them. The man staggered as he took a few steps back and Ezio swiped his feet before stomping on his groin.

There was a few scandalous looks thrown his way at that attack and Ezio just shrugged.

It wasn’t his fault that Desmond’s skills in unarmed combat bled through to him during these situations and Desmond fought shamelessly dirty.

‘In my defense…’ Desmond quipped from his mind, ‘I was taught that honor and shame have no place when you’re getting ganged up by Templars.’

Ezio grunted as he dodged a punch aimed for his chest, quickly grabbing the wrist and pulling him forward to unbalance him before delivering a high knee strike, making the man gasp as Ezio kneed him on the throat.

Okay, that one was from one of Desmond’s Bleed, not Desmond himself.

But then again…

Desmond was his Bleeds and his Bleeds were him. When he thinks about it that way…

“Desmond…” Ezio gritted as he smacked an incoming kick from another man, quickly jabbing the man’s side before suckerpunching him.

‘Sorry, sorry. My brain’s wacky at the moment.’ Desmond said.

That was an understatement.

Desmond had been in Ezio’s body for only a few hours. They had went outside to try and get a lay of the land and found out the date by Vieri throwing a rock at Ezio and giving Ezio the scar on his lips.

So yeah…

Desmond was still not used to being this… entity inside Ezio’s mind.

“Don’t think too hard.” Ezio backhanded a goon’s cheek hard and fast enough that he was able to topple the surprised and hurt goon with his mind quickly making it known that it was a common technique Altaïr used to do. Ezio tried to focus as he said, “Let’s just get this over with then we can have our mental breakdown in our room, okay?”

‘Yeah, okay.’ Desmond answered and Ezio felt Desmond focus.

It was like his senses became clearer.

His body became lighter.

And…

He could predict everyone’s next move.

To borrow Desmond’s expression at the moment.

Holy shit.

(Desmond doesn’t know it but because he made Ezio his Sage, he is technically a being that has access to Isu senses which he can pass down to Ezio. Ezio’s human body can’t take much of it though so there’s a time limit and that is how Federico comes in and save them because Ezio and Desmond starts getting a headache after using it too much.)

[bloomeng]

i think the early stages of izzy and stede’s relationship is sorta an overlooked area for analysis and shenanigans

for example izzy would be a fairly quiet person in his downtime— really can’t imagine him enjoying small talk— but i think stede has a hard time sitting in silence, because he associates it with mary’s annoyance with him (ironically bc i think she too is someone who enjoys silence and stede unknowingly would her rob her of that) so when they’re in a room together without ed stede automatically starts talking to izzy like he would ed and sometimes this is ok bc i do think they would have some shared interests (i like to think that with more access to books izzy would actually really like reading and stede is thrilled to finally have someone to discuss literature with) but a lot of times izzy is just letting stede talk at him (which he enjoys) and stede thinks he’s being ignored

i just think their communication styles are vastly different, which is made even harder by the fact that stede is used to communicating everything to ed vs izzy who’s used to just intrinsically being understood/ understanding ed

stede would also have a hard time recognizing when izzy is annoyed with him in their usual playful way vs actually upset with him which would lead to overstepping (the pitfall of a bitch4bitch relationship) but also izzy bottling things up and expecting stede to just understand how he fucked up

unfortunately stede is also someone who has a very hard time understanding things from a different perspective so he would accidentally overstep by forcing izzy to do certain things bc in his mind he’s helping but izzy sees it as stede trying to change him

[taffingspy]

RS3's story problems these past few years is a great example of "boring characters cannot carry a good plotline"

[peteytheparrot]

Sighs I got bored and wrote a prologue idea to FF and SIGHSSS…. I’m really gonna write this entire comic now aren’t I 😭😭😭 ITS FUCKING OVER BRO

[4th-make-quail]

In the name of wip Wednesday, here's a chunk of my Sart/Basch phoenix AU fic which is proving to be much longer than I expected!! This section is from Basch's POV, after he's been revived by Sartauvoir, who is in a very bad way due to the consequences of his spell. Theodaire is my Garlean chief medicus NPC, not a canon character!