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ghost-with-a-teacup · 2 years ago

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Hi! Just here to say that i loved What's in Between so much and i truly was meltinggg with part II 💕💕💕

I've never requested anything before and I don't rlly know how this works so it's all good if you decide no to write this one, but for the request: is it possible for it to be a hurt/comfort, Miguel x reader with the prompt "Talk to me, please. You need to keep your eyes open. Just a little longer"?

𝐎𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞, 𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐞

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Summary: It was supposed to be a regular mission on any normal day at Spider Society, but momentary distractions are costly and you may have just paid the ultimate price.

Warnings: Mentions of injury and death, BUT IT GETS SOFT I PROMISE.

“Miguel!” you say, bounding up to him with a pep in your step. He looks down at you with a small smile on his face, but it disappears as Jess glances over at him.

“You know you don’t have to pretend to be stoic all the time, how long have we known each other?” She asks, and he only rolls his eyes.

“This isn’t pretending,” he says to her before turning back to you. “Ready?” he asks.

“Always.”

Today was like any normal day at Spider Society, filled with missions to protect the canon of the multiverse. Albeit a little different, because it wasn’t too often that you were able to go on a mission with Miguel. He typically went on them alone, working best without distractions. But whenever he needed a partner you were his first choice.

With one last glance at each other (and a wink that makes Miguel snort) you both head through the portal.

It never gets tiring, travelling to a different dimension. What’s fascinating is the in-between, swirls of bright oranges, reds and blues all as an interconnected web between all possible universes in the multiverse. You get lost in the view, which is probably why you never realize that at the same time, Miguel gets lost in you.

After a little bit, you both emerge on the other side.

“That never gets old,” you grin at him.

“No…no, it doesn’t,” he says, his eyes trailing over your form for a moment.

“So, what’s the deal with this universe today?” you ask, and Miguel huffs softly.

“You would know if you ever listened to the mission briefings,” he says, giving you a side-eye as you both walk around the abandoned factory.

“Why do I need to listen when you’d just tell me anyway, love?” you ask, and he only sighs.

“Yes, but I shouldn’t have to say it twice, amor,” he mocks and you laugh out loud. Your laughter is contagious because Miguel lets out a chuckle himself before continuing.

“She’s a villain from Earth-17502, her main weapons are wooden spikes that emerge from her back and a pistol. What she lacks in speed she has in brute force, and the spikes can be shot out at 100km per hour, regenerated with hammerspace,” he explains.

“So like…a demented Sonic the Hedgehog?” you snicker.

“What? No, I just said she wasn’t fast,” he says, confused.

“No wait, a demented porcupine,” you say, and he only snorts. “Sure, querida.”

“Ugh, disgusting. Romance,” a disembodied voice interrupts, and the two of you immediately go on the defence. From the shadows emerges said villain in question, a cruel expression on her face as she readies her pistol by her side.

Without warning she begins shooting, but the two of you are fast and in sync, splitting off and slinging away with your webs.

“Look bud, I’m sorry that your love life is sad but don’t take it out on us!” You shout, swinging around with a relaxed look on your face.

She only lets out a growl, continuing to shoot at you to no avail. Behind her, Miguel is making his own advance, but like a triggered trap her spikes shoot out before he can get too close.

“Shit!” he says, leaping out of the way just in time.

“It wouldn’t do you well to sneak up on me, little one,” she laughs cruelly. “Wouldn’t want to get skewered!”

Now it's a game of ‘try to avoid the bullets and the spikes flying in all directions at once’, and it seemed like you were at a stalemate.

“There’s no way to get close to her!” you say frustratedly, leaping from pillar to pillar as you continue to evade her bullets. It seemed her frustration seemed to reach a peak as well as she lets out a shout, unable to hit her marks. You move down to the floor, trying a new approach from the ground.

“We’ll figure it out, we always do,” Miguel reassures, and you let out a little smile.

But in that minuscule second of distraction the villain finds an opening, and before you know it a spike is flying straight for you with no time to evade it.

“NO!!” you hear him shout, but it was already too late. All the while, the villain only laughs in the face of your anguish. The spike impales your side, and for a few breathless moments, you don’t even feel it, as though it was nothing more than a punch to the side, a bit of pressure. The adrenaline pumping through your veins does its job of allowing you to not feel the pain.

But as you stumble slightly, it starts to settle in. All at once the searing hot pain hits you like a train, and you collapse to your knees, unable to hold yourself up anymore.

Every breath you take becomes more difficult than the last as a ringing fills your ears.

In front of you, Miguel fights with a new vigour you had never seen in him before, claws slashing and webs flying. Each action is served with purpose and no restraint on his strength, and the villain can no longer keep up. But before long your vision starts to fail you as well, closing in on your line of sight as you collapse onto your side with a wheeze. What felt like an eternity was in reality only maybe 30 seconds, but you were so, so tired.

Out of the corner of his eye Miguel sees you collapse, and all he sees is red. Before he can realize it his fangs are out, and he bites through the villain’s neck effectively paralyzing them instantly.

Within moments he is by your side, scooping you up into his arms as you blink blearily up at him.

“LYLA, SEND BACKUP NOW,” he shouts, his voice cracking at the end and for once there is no funny banter between the two of them as she does his orders immediately.

You open your mouth, but no words come out. Slowly you feel your eyes begin to close, but he shouts your name.

"Talk to me, please. You need to keep your eyes open, just a little longer,” he begs, clutching you close. You’ve never heard his voice so broken, not even when he told you about his past.

“It-” you gasp. “It hurts so bad, Miguel,” your voice weak with pain.

He looks at you with panic and fear, but most of all a feeling of helplessness.

“Querida, come on. You’re strong, mi vida. Stay with me, alright?” he says, his hand gently brushing your hair back before he scoops you up, carrying you in his arms.

You can’t help but cry out in pain as he does, the spike digging deeper into your side.

“Fuck, fuck,” he says, moving as fast toward the portal Jess had just opened up. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I need to get you to the infirmary, alright? You’ll be okay, you’ll be okay,” he says, trying desperately to believe it himself.

But he doesn’t know anymore. You’ve lost too much blood, the injury too serious.

It throws him back to when he was carrying his daughter like this, frantically running as the world falls apart around him.

But this time it was you. His light, the best to have ever happened to him amongst the infinite possibilities throughout the multiverse, the one person that managed to pull him out of the pit he had fallen into after the destruction of his daughter’s world.

You were his salvation…and he was about to lose you.

“I love you, Miguel,” you say softly, before you let out a violent cough. “In case…in case I’m not here to say it anymore.”

“No, no. Don’t say that. You’ll be able to say it a million more times, alright querida? A million more, and even then it won’t be enough,” he says, but you can’t hear him anymore. You can’t even make out his beautiful face so broken in anguish.

All you can see are the colours of the space between the universes. The oranges, reds and blues.

You didn’t think death would be so cold and monotonous. You weren’t exactly sure if you believed in the concept of ‘heaven’ or ‘hell’, the Fields of Elysium were probably closer to what you expected the afterlife to be like. But you definitely didn’t expect it to be so…bland.

It was like an endless void you walked through, no warmth, no ‘light’ to go towards, just you and your thoughts.

Your thoughts.

Miguel.

The guilt hits you like a tidal wave at the fact that you left him alone. Another person was ripped from his grasp by the hands of fate. You couldn’t bear the thought of hurting him, and you did just that by leaving him behind. Even though you promised each other forever on your wedding day, here you were breaking that promise.

You couldn’t find the strength in your legs to continue walking aimlessly anymore. Like that fight in the factory, you fell to your knees, not because of your injury but because of the pain you felt in your heart for hurting the one you loved the most.

You remember his face as he held you in his arms, pleading for you to stay.

He was so warm. He always was.

You missed him.

“Miguel…” you whisper. “I’m sorry for leaving you behind,” you sob.

“Don’t leave me, querida,” a voice says, far off in the distance. Your head whips up at the sound, and you look around desperately trying to hear it again.

“Please…please, I can’t. I can’t do this without you,” the voice says, and in an instant you’re back on your feet following the sound.

“You were the best thing to ever happen to me, vida mía. Somehow loving me in spite of my brokenness. I don’t…I don’t know how to live without you by my side.” You’re running toward the voice now, running through the darkness with it as your guide.

“Don’t leave me…” the voice whispers before fading away, leaving you with nothing to follow anymore.

“NO!” you shout, and before you know it your webs are shooting out from your wrists, catching onto something, and then you’re swinging forward into the unknown.

Your hearing is the first of your senses to return, the steady beat of the heart rate monitor gratingly irritating after a while. It was ironic considering it was the first to disappear when you first got injured.

Next is your touch. You feel the weight of the hospital blankets, scratchy but warm.

Not as warm as the hand that grasped your own though, holding it tight.

Your sense of smell and taste come back around the same time, the sterile scent of the hospital unfamiliar, your mouth dry.

The last is your sight. Granted it was a bit difficult to see with your eyes closed, but you hadn’t quite found the strength to open them until now.

Blearily you blink as the bright lights temporarily blind you, but your attention isn’t on them for long. Instead, you turn to Miguel who sits staring at you in shock, eyes so wide it was almost comical.

“Hi,” you say softly, and he only blinks once before his forehead is pressed to your thigh, a broken sob escaping his throat. He grasps your hand all the tighter, as though he was never going to let go.

It makes you almost want to cry too, but instead you lift your arm up weakly before running it through his hair the way you knew he loved.

“I thought, I thought I was going to lose you,” he whispers, his face still pressed into your leg. He says it so quietly that you can barely hear him, like if he uttered the words too loudly they would come true.

“I could never leave you, my love,” you say. “I have to say ‘I love you’ a million times before then, remember? Or was it a billion?” He can’t help but chuckle, finally lifting his head up to look at you.

He looked exhausted, his usual dark circles darker than usual, his red eyes bloodshot. But he looked so, so relieved.

“No amount of times could ever be enough, vida mía,” he says before pressing his lips to yours.

You both smile into the kiss of a thousand swirling emotions, a million words left unsaid but you both understood even despite it all.

“Guess I’ll just have to get started then,” you say with a grin as you pull away.

“I love you, Miguel,” you say.

“I love you, querida,” he says in turn.

Taglist: @beiroviski, @scaraza, @blueoorchid,@phobia0325, @remuslupinwifeee, @local-mr-frog, @johfaam0, @raweggohan, @honeycriess, @alexenoirex, @chimpkinnuggies, @rqdior, @banana--belle, @notasadgirlipromise, @6billionyearsold, @gods-perfectidiot, @phobia0325, @alcinas-darling-side

A/N: Was thinking of leaving it on a cliffhanger, thought that would be too cruel LMAO. Thank you for reading! And thank you for requesting, anon <3 I had fun with this one hehe

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o hara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel x reader #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #across the spider verse spoilers #spiderman 2099 x reader #marvel

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seat-safety-switch · 9 months ago

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With forest fire season approaching, I decided it was time to take matters into my own hands. Last year, I was trapped inside, wondering why everything tasted like I was eating it at a mid-tier barbecue joint. This year, my plan was to invent some kind of machine that absorbs the forest fire smoke and turns it back into trees. I succeeded.

You might not think that such a thing is possible. Doing so is a waste of time that you could be spending inventing your own Teletreeporter. A couple cups of coffee later, and I was driving around an old International truck (watch your feet, the floors are gone) with a prototype stuck to the back of it.

As a test, I chose to start in the smokiest part of town, the old fan factory. Someone left the place running and then locked themselves out years ago, and now the autonomous assembly algorithms are tearing the building apart in order to have enough material to keep manufacturing fans. Nobody has told the robots to stop quality-testing those fans, either, so every single one they build goes out in the parking lot, and runs until destruction. It's a big draw on the local power station, and also kind of ruins the air quality in the area. I flipped the switch, and the Teletreeporter leapt to life, popping out a perfect, not even blackened, elm tree.

And then the switch jammed. In my defence, it was not my fault that I used a junky old switch I found in a cookie tin full of old switches that I got from some dude's estate sale. Sure, I could have tested it more, but who knows if it would have broken just the same? Either way, I was now driving around town, shitting out a constant, unbroken stream of tree sausage.

"Take cover," I shrieked as I drove recklessly past a public park, reforesting it the whole way. "I can't turn it off!" As I got on the throttle and headed towards Main Street, I noticed that the sky was beginning to get brighter and brighter. The damn thing had absorbed all the forest fire smoke and was getting a start on the atmospheric carbon. If I didn't do something soon, it was going to reverse climate change, and start pooping out bricks of solidified gasoline.

"Goddammit! Stop fixing the climate," shrieked a cop, fumbling for his gun. His threat came too late. He got creamed by a thick stream of authentic ground Brontosaurus meat, brought back to "life" by the reversion of the Jurassic period's extinction event.

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y-rhywbeth2 · 8 months ago

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Ketheric continues to be the member of the Chosen I struggle to get a grip on. Like the other three I can tell you the details of why (I think) they grew up to monsters:

Long post.

Let's start with Gortash: spent his childhood being told he was a selfish monster for his thoughts - apparently from birth - for the way he perceived the world, for *checks notes* wanting his parents attention as an undeveloped human being that relies on its parents to survive and thrive.

Then his parents send him to hell as part of a deal. Because that's where monsters go isn't it? They go to hell to suffer eternal damnation because they were monsters in life.

So you grow up in one of the literal cesspits of the universe, where the only people you meet are the literal scum of the universe, or those you're going to learn to see as weak fools who had to rely on others - and were ultimately willing to commit atrocities themselves - who were taken advantage of by the scum of the universe. You get to the Hells by committing atrocities, either because you want something so badly you'll fuck somebody over for it (out of greed, or because you couldn't fix it yourself (weak)) or because you did them of your own volition. And curiously, some of these people had their price tags wrapped in such subtle terms they don't even realise they did anything wrong! Lesson learned; anyone will willingly be a monster if you make the evil sound nice. Every single devil you meet has had the humanity flayed from their soul, and they got to where they are in their existences by fomenting (and committing) hate and rape and murder and everything evil under the sun as a regular Monday morning in the ultimate goal to make the universe an evil place. Devils are also 'self made men', everybody started from nothing as a lemure and clawed their way to where they are now. Every social interaction in the Hells is manipulation and abuse. Everyone there hurts everyone.

But you do have one example of a good person! There's Hope! Lovely lady, kind and sweet... Trapped in hell being abused forever going insane because of it because your ambitious sister fucked you over. That's where trust and love being a good person gets you.

And that was his entire social life. That was the people he had to look to for examples. All his early experiences were limited to a sample of the absolute worst it has to offer, and he has a very skewed view of the universe.

And the fact that he's apparently so damn good at sex a lady gave him a ring worth everything she owns after growing up around a pleasure devil whose role is harming and corrupting people with sex and has built in charm person at etc is not ringing alarm bells(!) I'm not side-eyeing the boudoir at all.

I wonder why having a child/teen spend their formative years in the evil factory literally designed to spit out monsters... spat out a monster? Kudos to Karlach, though: just how many layers of defence mechanisms has she got in her brain?

Gortash's thought processes are 50% through the lens of engineering and 50% through the lens of a devil's perspective to me. People will sell out others for their own gain, because they're too weak to do it themselves or because they're bastards. If you don't get with the programme you're the victim. You only get ahead by being ruthless. Everybody is untrustworthy, and relying on them will get you betrayed. The world is divided into the weak and the ruthlessly strong who take what they want. Yes, he's a monster. And so are his parents. And so is everyone. And then Bane saw this perfect example of his way of thinking and said 'that one.'

Orin: obviously we've got grooming. The fact that her formative memories include her mother trying to murder her, and the fact that she feels like the only person who has ever cared about her or supported her is her grandfather. Who is implied to have been raping her, or intending to. All she's permitted is to have her brain poisoned by her faith, which her life revolves around, and then her kin 'does it all wrong' and inherits everything she's been groomed to believe is hers. But no, 'they're not wrong,' says everybody around her 'you are!'

She's a Bhaalspawn, so her relationships with her kin are "kill or be killed," as Helena proved. You will please father by slaughtering your siblings, or you will die - or worse. You must be and stay favoured by Bhaal above all the others to be truly safe ("safe"), and Durge outranking her is a threat to her existence. Actually Durge existing is a threat to her well-being. She has no way to live a life outside the cult, never has and never will. Her life is insanely lonely and mostly consists of paranoia.

But the overlaying theme here is that she's a changeling. She's mirrorkin with no unique physical identity of her own, she can only reflect those of others. To be dnd canon accurate: she has no real facial features, no pigmentation. She's not permitted an identity of her own, and was punished for trying. She's a mirror born and raised to reflect the glory of Bhaal, the glory of her failed grandfather, the rise of Bhaal's favourite child. Never her own. Gee, I wonder why she literally wears people's skins.

Denied the ability to do anything but live according to what she's told, she does her best to live up to it because to fail is to become her parents and the countless aunts and uncles currently enjoying their damnation in the Throne of Blood. And then she's told she's doing it wrong. By everybody. She's a 'rabid dog'. She, despite having doctrine poured into her ears and probably carved into her flesh her entire life 'doesn't understand Bhaal.' And everybody is insanely patronising about it! You're never allowed to be anything but what we tell you to be, but you're still not good enough! Which is death. The Temple of Bhaal needs murder feminism.

The Dark Urge is my favourite little nightmare, and I've talked about them at length: much of Orin's trauma also applies to them, although where she's a mirror made to reflect the egos of others, Durge is only allowed one identity: Bhaal's. Where Orin can never seem to reach the standards forced on her, Durge is never allowed to fail to meet them, or else. Every outside connection they ever had was brutally sabotaged, and they've had 'you're a monster and only I (your abusive Father) can love you' drilled into their mind. They hate themself. We got the threat of sexual exploitation (assuming it didn't happen), there's a subtle undercurrent of incest to some interactions. The prayer for forgiveness kind of sums it all up: 'I'm sorry for forming an emotional connection that isn't blind love for you father, but don't fret, I'll destroy it with my own hands just like everything else and then finally get to kill myself just like I've always wanted.'

But Ketheric? Like villains don't need tragic backstories to be terrible people, but it does make them more interesting.

OK, so your bio family is fucked up and I definitely get the impression that they sucked (Malus is giving me vibes that say he'd have been a villain anyway, and might've been secretly Sharran to start with; Gerringothe seems to be drowning whatever her issues are in gold), and then the loving family you made for yourself broke: your wife died, and your daughter died, sure. But plenty of people on Toril probably have similar if not the same stories and didn't go evil overlord! Why are you doing this? What is informing these decisions? Why does your existence hinge so much on your dead daughter that your son is basically named after her and you seem to hate him for existing and not being her? Does Shar have something to do with it? Has Ketheric just carved out so much memory and emotion, so much of his own identity, that all that's left is the grief and the hunger for the pain to stop but, as per Shar's intent, it keeps coming back, with less and less positive memories to soften the pain. A wound that festers and never heals. Is the obsession with Isobel because she's the icon of everything that was good in his life, and her loss was the moment everything good was gone? Was he a rational man who turned to Shar to stop the pain in a moment of understandable grief and rage at her sister, and then was trapped in a cycle that destroyed everything that was good in that man until we get the General?

Just guess working my way through his entire backstory...

#I just want to rescue Orin; she breaks my heart #and I kind of hate that she didn't win on some levels #I just want to rescue her ToB style but without the bad ending that got added in post-game #babbling #edgelord hours #villainous nonsense #the family circle #/durge #/orin #/gortash #/ketheric

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if-you-fan-a-fire · 1 year ago

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"TWO MORE PLANTS AT STRATFORD CLOSE," Toronto Globe. October 17, 1933. Page 12. --- Special Investigator Appointed to Study Strike Situation ---- (Canadian Press Despatch.) Stratford, Oct. 16. - L. J. Salter, Stratford, has been appointed special Investigator to inquire into all phases of the strike situation here, it was announced today by Hon. Dr. J. D. Monteith, Ontario Minister of Labor.

Some time ago Mr. Salter resigned as Secretary-Treasurer of the McLagan Furniture Company here, one of the plants closed through the present strike of 800 furniture workers, and he is familiar with the furniture Industry.

F. M. Gifford, President of the Farquharson-Gifford plant, announced today his plant was closing indefinitely, and the windows of the factory were being boarded tonight. A firm of accountants from Toronto is auditing the books so they may be closed out. James Preston of the Preston-Noelting plant has also announced his plant will be closed Indefinitely.

Thus three of the six plants affected will be closed, Krochlers having reached this decision last week. Negotiations between the Preston- Noelting employers and a committee of employees broke down Sunday, and executives of the firm blamed outside interference for their failure to reach a settlement. As a result of the breaking off of negotiations all offers which had been made to the men by this firm have been withdrawn.

At a meeting of the Preston-Noelting employe held at strike headquarters today, the Chairman of the Preston-Noelting Shop Committee resigned, a member of the committee stated following the meeting.

In a statement issued today, the company claimed terms were accepted Friday night by the Shop Committee, on behalf of the employees, whom the committee had the power to represent. The committee had to report back to the men Saturday night for final approval, the statement continued, and at that meeting "the same interference occurred as when we originally agreed with the Central Committee and Mr. Collins (Fred Collins, union organizer) through Chief of Police Gagen to accept the union and an open shop. At that time Mr. Minster (Isadore Minster. another organizer) stepped in and said very emphatically it must be a closed shop.

"Last week we had made arrangements, and again another outsider came up from Toronto and interfered and refused to accept the proposition which was agreed to by ourselves and our own employees. The fact is the employees cannot do as they desire and the union has no Intention of ever accepting a settlement of the strike."

Davidson on Bail. Stratford, Oct. 16. Andrew Davidson, arrested Thursday at the Farquharson-Gifford plant, where a number of furniture strikers and sympathizers pelted tomatoes at strike- breakers, was remanded for eight days today. He is charged under Section 87 of the Criminal Code with being a member of an unlawful assembly.

Crown Attorney J. C. Makins, K.C., consented to bail of $2,000 being allowed on condition there is no more violence in the city. Previously ball had been refused.

Consent to the adjournment was given in view of the Inability of defense counsel, E. O. Brown, of Toronto, to be present. Mr. Brown has been retained by the Canadian Labor Defense League.

#stratford ontario #strike #strike meeting #furniture workers #furniture factory #1933 stratford strike #arbitration board #management vs labour #working class struggle #union demands #union organizing #great depression in canada #stratford #canadian labor defence league

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goblinsofdiscord · 8 months ago

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The Enneagram Explained ⚔️ Defence Mechanisms & Self-Sabotaging Behaviors 💣🔪

By Larissa

(This is an excerpt from a workshop I taught in 2023) If you want the accompanying "Unf*ck Yourself" mini workshop + pdf workbook join the membership and get it instantly. I apologize for how dry and cringe the names/descriptions are.

To watch/listen instead:

youtube

One of the main ways you can stop operating out of autopilot, quit the shit patterns and actually get what you want is by:

Being with the discomfort of not operating out of your personality trap + shadow (being conscious, making different choices, regulating your nervous system in the moment with breath, tapping, affirmations).

Integrating the opposite of your personality's "belief" (the shadow).

This sounds simple but it actually requires a considerable amount of bravery and determination. Which is why most people who learn the Enneagram don’t actually use it for self-growth. Because it’s more fun to chit chat about and study than to actually apply to our own lives.

The personality’s belief structure creates behaviors and defense mechanisms. These beliefs and behaviors create the shadow.

The defense mechanisms come from Freud's psychoanalytic theories and have been correlated to Enneagram theory by multiple sources and evolved over time with other people's ideas (Fritz Perls, Oscar Ichazo, Helen Palmer, Naranjo, etc). I won’t be getting into any of that, I’m just going to apply them in how I see them as useful. I’ve also added behaviors that I notice in each of the types.

I’m not sharing these to shame anyone or be judgmental, because we’re ALL doing at least one, if not three or more of these patterns. I’m using the Enneagram as a framework to show you how to spot patterns, unuseful beliefs and shadow at a much quicker pace than if you’re just doing it from just generic journaling prompts or waiting for something to “happen” before you address it. This way you have a pathway to start looking at the problems before your life goes to total shit.

Each type’s flawed belief (“If I am not ___ I don’t exist /I am not me/I am not safe”) manifests itself through behaviors and actions.

This process is unconscious. Even if you were aware that you were doing some of this stuff, it’s not your fault. It’s what we were programmed to do. But by integrating our shadow and coming into acceptance and wholeness we get to make better choices, think supportive thoughts, feel better, more useful and aligned feelings. And you can also catch yourself in the act and check yourself before you wreck yourself.

ENNEAGRAM TYPE 1 - “DADDY”

1’s prefer to see themselves as being conscientious and above the degenerate riff raff. They’re proper, correct and in integrity, therefore they cannot see themselves as lazy, foolish, wrong, messy or "bad.” Of course, when going too hard into the personality type’s false belief, it creates a big ol’ shadow.

1’s avoid outwardly expressing anger to remain “objective” and in control. Because expressing “anger” is “bad.” To be imperfect, incompetent, wrong or out-of-control is death to the 1. This mechanism reinforces the 1's ego because it assures them that they are right, proper, perfect, and correct. Therefore, their survival and identity continues. However, because the 1 is an anger/gut type, they’re constantly churning irritation factories.

If the 1 catches themselves in the act, or someone else does (gasp), it may increase the dissonance between the Shadow and Unintegrated Self if they don’t understand that it’s just their personality bs. Because the 1 utilizes “anger” they are unlikely to allow themselves to see themselves as incorrect, in the wrong, imperfect.

How this manifests:

Reaction Formation: 1’s can express the opposite of their actual feelings and desires. They do this to reinforce their ego as “not being angry” (being perfect, right, correct, proper, good). Expressing anger is “bad” or what people who have no self-control do.

Channeling unexpressed anger into physical activities - going hog wild on cleaning, obsessively exercising, restricting food/hedonistic delights, perfectionism fixations, taking a red pen to their life.

Criticality + judgmental concerns projected onto people around them, for their “own good.” To the 1 they’re being responsible, doing the right thing.

Splitting: Seeing things in black and white under stress (this is good, this is evil). In super low health this can lead to extreme behaviors, like witch-hunting, finger-pointing, being the ‘voice of God’ / judge, jury and executioner.

Rationalization: 1's can rationalize to justify their self-righteousness. “This is the most correct, right, or efficient way to do the thing, therefore I am right and you are wrong.” If you don’t do what I say, it will be to your own detriment.

Hypocrisy: Projecting their own denied desires, feelings and even private behaviors by condemning the same desires, feelings and behaviors in others. They know the right way to be, and you are not being it. They can become preachy about whatever they take issue with, in order to unconsciously overcompensate for their secret bad behavior or naughty thoughts. This ties directly to Shadow Work, because 1's and 1-fixers can have a pungent Shadow full of all kinds of misdeeds and “dark” desires, but be totally blind to them while criticizing others for the same things.

Example: The anti-gay politician who is having an affair with a man, or the barbiturate-poppin' mom who wages a neighborhood campaign against drugs.

OCD: Obsessively creating more order and rightness in their physical environment, relationships, or self. They can go into “perfecting” mode in order to feel in control of something they cannot control, where they exert order onto their surroundings and right wrongs (like becoming obsessed with cleanliness in their home or laying out ‘rules’ that others must follow).

ENNEAGRAM TYPE 2 - “MOMMY”

2’s prefer to see themselves as being loving, nurturing, selfless, self-sacrificing, caring towards others, concerned and kind-hearted. Therefore they cannot see themselves as selfish, self-centered, giving to get, cold, heartless or "bad”. Of course, when going too hard into the personality type’s false belief, it creates a big ol’ shadow.

2’s avoid feeling selfish or needy, by refusing to directly ask to get their needs met or receive what they truly wish from others. 2's unconsciously repress these needs and desires to reinforce their type's ego because it assures them that they are self-sacrificing, needed, good and loving. Therefore their survival continues.

If the 2 catches themselves in the act, or someone else does (gasp), it may increase the dissonance between the Shadow and Unintegrated Self if they don’t understand that it’s just their personality bs. Because the 2 utilizes “pride” they are unlikely to allow themselves to wallow or even acknowledge any wrongdoing or selfishness on their part. It’s the other person’s fault, the 2 is blameless.

How this manifests:

Repression: 2’s hide their needs and "selfish" desires from themselves in order to maintain their caring and indispensable self-image. They use Repression to AVOID feeling needy, unnecessary or rejected. Because of their type structure, they can't see how they are in need of anyone else's help or how they are anything other than self-sacrificing. They cover up these feelings with flattery, offers of help, being intrusive and overly nice.

2’s prioritize others’ needs in the hopes someone will prioritize theirs. But then when that happens, the 2 goes into rejection mode and wants to get back into position as ‘the helper’ as that’s where their identity is invested.

The 2 projects their needs onto those around them by being overly helpful or intrusive. If they feel like they're not being appreciated or getting their needs met, they can move into covertly "punishing" behaviors to the person they keep giving to or subconsciously create situations in which the person might be forced to give back to them.

Example: The 2 wants help cleaning from their spouse, so over-cleans to the point where they become ill so that their partner is forced to pick up the slack or show them care for all of their self-sacrificing. This can also manifest in ways like them offering to do something and then making the other person wait to receive if they are feeling secretly resentful or not shown adequate appreciation or having their self-image adequately validated.

In low health, 2’s can use “Identification” to take on the needs and worries of those around them as if it’s theirs. They become fretful over other people’s problems. Anything that hurts their loved one hurts them. And it becomes covertly narcissistic, wherein they can make someone else’s suffering about themselves, but also their wins. “If it wasn’t for my help, they wouldn’t have accomplished that.” They can secretly (or not secretly) want undue credit for “help” they’ve provided (whether solicited or not).

2’s use “Reframing” in collaboration with “Repression.” They can reframe their intentions (to maintain a pride in their pure and loving intentions) and reframe others intentions too, lest it burst the sugar-coated bubble they’re desiring to live in or reflect back to them that they’re unwanted.

ENNEAGRAM TYPE 3 - “SHAPESHIFTER”

3’s like to see themselves as impressive, competent, successful and admired or valued for what they do or are. Therefore they cannot see themselves as losers, failures, or less than others. Of course, when going too hard into the personality type’s false belief, it creates a big ol’ shadow.

3’s avoid feeling like a failure or worthless by adapting to external ideals, competing, and striving. 3's unconsciously use “Identification” to reinforce their type's ego because it assures them that they are valuable, worthy, admired and successful. Therefore their survival continues.

If the 3 catches themselves in the act, or someone else does (gasp), it may increase the dissonance between the Shadow and Unintegrated Self if they don’t understand that it’s just their personality bs. Because the 3 utilizes “deceit” they are unlikely to allow themselves to own their failings or true feelings if it interferes with the image they’re projecting.

How this manifests:

3's use "Identification" as a defense mechanism, by unconsciously assimilating with the "other." They use this to avoid feeling like a failure. How this shows up is that they take on the traits, characteristics, attributes, aesthetics, preferences, values and mannerisms of important people in their life, groups, people they see as valuable and those they admire or envy. They do this to create an image of success (to themselves and/or others).

Denial/Projection: 3’s can blame others for their failures or what isn’t working for them, offloading image fails onto others to distance themselves from shame. Just like they can take on others traits/behaviors/stories, they can offload those same things onto others as well.

Deception: This collection of traits is their "self image" and where their ego and self-worth resides, and because their external sources and what is valued may change, it can give 3's a shapeshifter quality depending on who or what they're surrounded by, what they value, what they do. Underneath this layer of shiny baubles is still a 'shame type' and so without this sometimes fragile self-image being upheld they are but a raw, shameful nerve. Because of this, they can lose contact with their own internal compass, needs, desires and their authentic self. They prioritize what gets them those positive hits and bolsters their ego/self-image. They can be totally asleep to this inner incongruence, and be deceiving themselves, especially in lower levels of health.

Numbing/Workaholism: 3’s can use numbing so they don’t get stuck in the emotional swamp and become unproductive. They can power down the “I’m a failure, I’m upset, I’m emotional” aspect and power up the drive to override emotional slop that might get in their way. They might override this with going hard into working around the clock, substances, shopping/spending a lot or doing something flashy to bolster their self-image.

Competition: 3’s can get caught up in competition, using others as a stepping stone or a way to boost their own image by comparison (“see how much better of a job I’m doing than Ted.”) They might do this to the point where they end up chasing someone else’s dreams and totally shooting themselves in the foot.

ENNEAGRAM TYPE 4 - “DISDAINFUL DEPRESSIVE”

4’s like to see themselves as separate, uniquely flawed, deep, and the special exception. Therefore they cannot see themselves as mundane, relatable, ordinary, adaptable, or even for many 4’s functional. Of course, when going too hard into the personality type’s false belief, it creates a big ol’ shadow.

4’s avoid feeling mundane, ordinary, relatable, shallow, functional or happy. 4's unconsciously self-sabotage and focus on the negative and what’s frustrating, to reinforce their type's ego because it assures them that they are deep, different, uniquely flawed and unlike anyone else. Therefore their survival continues.

If the 4 catches themselves in the act, or someone else does (gasp), it may increase the dissonance between the Shadow and Unintegrated Self if they don’t understand that it’s just their personality bs. Because the 4 utilizes envy (what is missing) they are unlikely to allow themselves to see where they are functional, relatable, understandable or even happy. They subconsciously craft a self-image that rejects any "positive" information about themselves that comes into conflict with this existing "negative" image.

How this manifests:

Introjection: Introjection is presented as absorbing another person's identity or feelings (like a parent) and transferring it to themselves. However, it's more nuanced and specific than that for 4’s. 4's aren't just taking in any old information, they're unconsciously taking in evidence that they are broken, estranged, alien, fucked up and damaged - and this is great news to them. While the external world may be giving the 4 fuel, their experience has almost nothing to do with the outside world. The outside world is just serving to fuel the 4's internal narrative. The 4 weaves these evidentiary mementos into a story. They identify with specific negative traits that reinforce that they are separate, rare, deeply flawed so as to never quite be understood or capable of being happy and functional.

They do this unconsciously as a way to cope with the pain of feeling broken, unwanted, dysfunctional and different. They weave the negative narratives into their identity and shape it into a way that makes them feel in control of it, to project depth and meaning onto it vs someone or something outside of themselves creating their story and making it shallow. The more they associate into this negative state, the more dysfunctional they can become and the more it supports their type's ego structure. Without these narratives they feel naked and non-existant. Because their self-image is inherently negative, they are “positively” associated with being in a negative, frustrated, unsatisfied state.

Idealization: Idealizing people or situations as a way to generate feelings to pull the 4 away from the mundane reality/experience. This idealization is a frustration pattern designed to keep them in a loop of disappointment and longing because nothing will ever live up to what they hope, something will always be missing and the 4 can never truly actualize or be happy as a result. And if it is everything they’ve ever wanted, the 4 is likely to find something wrong anyway or create a problem where there is none.

As a result, the 4 might self-sabotage opportunities that would actually aid them in being functional, capable, happy, or get them what they claim they want. They may discard things, people, ideas, pursuits if they feel too easy, cheap, relatable, mundane. Or keep churning up issues and provocations that will lead to them being able to say, “see, I never get to have what I want.” Or “I knew no one would understand.”

Splitting: 4’s reject what’s “not me” and often find what’s not to their tastes or “not me” disgusting. Everything that’s not in the frustrated realm that the 4 approves of is superficial, shallow, ugly, vapid, horrible, etc. For the faceless masses, not the 4. Being at odds with reality helps reinforce their self-identity. I’m not like that, therefore I’m deep.

Because 4’s are usually creative or self-identify with the idea of being an artist/writer/creative, their tragically romantic, broken and disdainful views can be expressed through their art. They may overdo it in making it unpalatable or abstract. Or if they become popular they may self-sabotage their own success or self-image by being provocative, turning on their fans/the public, becoming moody, self-destructive or unpredictable. They’ll likely move away from what is expected or desired by their fanbase, even if they secretly desire an audience. Or maybe they’ll over-specify how they present themselves and shroud themselves in mystery in a way that others cannot easily relate to, they can only *bear witness.*

ENNEAGRAM TYPE 5 - “BRUNDLEFLY”

5’s like to see themselves as insightful, competent, self-sufficient, independent and objective. Therefore they cannot see themselves as emotional, human, helpless or dependent on others. Of course, when going too hard into the personality type’s false belief, it creates a big ol’ shadow.

5’s avoid feeling dependent on others, helpless, depleted, or engulfed in the messy world. 5's unconsciously retreat inwards and withhold energy and information, detach, and compartmentalize to reinforce their type's ego because it assures them that they are competent, objective, smarter than everyone else and above the mortal coil.

Because the 5 utilizes avarice (hoarding inner resources) they are unlikely to allow themselves to allow themselves to be put in a position where they are “needed” for anything outside of the scope of their specific interest/competency focus, or entangle themselves with hot messes (people or situations). Of all the types, this is maybe the one that is least likely to give a shit if they have a shadow, tbh.

How this manifests:

Isolation: 5’s retreat and protect their inner sanctum from being invaded or picked clean by the outside world. They use isolation to avoid dependence on others or having to be interlaced with their chaotic whims and needs which may disrupt what the 5 would rather be doing with their time (some kind of mind pursuit). They may design their entire lives to protect themselves against intrusion.

Detachment: 5’s use detachment as a means to cope when they feel overwhelmed. They disconnect from and retreat from their own and others’ unstable feelings. In order to feel competent and safe and conserve their mental resources, they can cut all contact or need for the outside world.

They use ‘rejection’ methods of cutting off and compartmentalizing to ensure they’re not swallowed up in the messy ass human bullshit of this humdrum existence. This may show up as minimizing their needs (physical, relational, financial, emotional). They’re the most likely to live in some secret, off-grid tiny home. Not the one with all the gardens and crops and goats, but the one that has the bare minimum to survive where they can focus on their studies or whatever their mental obsession is, far away from other people.

They can have totally hidden worlds within worlds that others know nothing about. Each world dangerously close to being lopped off at a moment’s notice if the 5 sees no use for it anymore. They dump all of their energy into their main pursuit because it’s where they feel “safe” and valuable, and so the outside world interfering with that feels like an attack on their very existence. By overdoing this one area of “competency” they can actually make themselves unable to actually be independent or functional. So to them they may seem overly competent, but to the outside world they may seem bizarre and dysfunctional.

5’s use compartmentalization of emotions, energy, and relationships. Separating their thoughts from feelings, and putting people into boxes to be dealt with or utilized instead of truly connected to. This can have a dehumanizing effect on the people around them who don’t want to only interact with the 5 when they have the inner resources or only interact with them on narrow and specific terms. By doing this, the 5 effectively shuts out having to deal with whatever they don’t want to but also hacks off pieces of their own heart, spirit, and humanity which is the only true place to create and mine for the insights and independence they seek.

ENNEAGRAM TYPE 6 - “CITIZEN EMO”

6’s like to see themselves as loyal, hardworking, just a regular person, authentic, responsible, fair and connected to the family/community/tribe, etc. Therefore they cannot see themselves as bad, traitorous, pompous or “too good.” Of course, when going too hard into the personality type’s false belief, it creates a big ol’ shadow.

6’s avoid feeling unsafe, uncertain or abandoned in their attachments and support systems (physical, group, partner). 6's unconsciously seek security/safety (and dangers), truth (and lies) and support systems they can trust and rely on to reinforce their type's ego because it assures them that they are accepted, part of the tribe, safe, secure, supported and prepared. Therefore their survival continues.

If the 6 catches themselves in the act, or someone else does (gasp), it may increase the dissonance between the Shadow and Unintegrated Self if they don’t understand that it’s just their personality bs. Because the 6 utilizes “fear” (and anxiety) they are unlikely to allow themselves to relax, ease up, stop hunting for discrepancies or what could go wrong.

How this manifests:

Projection: 6’s project their worst fears and worst case intentions onto other people. They’re always sniffing out danger in the world and in their connections. Who’s being disloyal? Who’s up to no good? They can engage in investigative, gossipy behaviors, seeking out clues of their worst fears. Sometimes they project their own behaviors, feelings and thoughts onto others and then fear being blamed or accused (which leads to projecting).

On the flipside, they can project idolization fantasies onto “experts”, simping people who they can put all their trust and outsource their thinking to. They do this to create certainty within themselves.

Worst Case Scenario: Projections can also show up as “predictions” where the 6 may anticipate the worst and then by overfocusing on this negative outcome, they manifest it into reality. Their worst case scenario becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. (“See! I knew the basement was going to flood!” Or “See! I knew you’d cheat on me!”) This churning distrust has them always on the hunt, and never feeling safe.

Splitting: Like other types they can see things in “black and white”, good or bad, you’re with me or against me. 6’s can be tribal and overly-identified to their “side” - whether that’s ideologically, politically, religiously or just in their general friend groups.

Outsourcing anxiety: They can overdose on anxiety in order to reach equilibrium. They project their internal anxieties into the outside world in the hopes that someone else will solve the problem for them. Like constantly bringing people’s attention to the negative or what could go wrong. They cannot rest until someone else validates and matches their concern. They want help to deal with the problem (real or imagined) and for someone else to assuage their fears.

Redirect overwhelming fears from one source onto another source that they feel is easier to manage (like a loved one, peer, boss).

Rebellion: 6’s can get anti-authoritarian when their trust is broken, they’re disappointed, or they engage in “splitting.” They can be mega social justice warriors and fight for what is “right”, but in doing so they can totally lose perspective and go so hard in fighting for justice that they actually become the bad guy.

6’s can also be hypochondriacs with their anxiety. Excessive worrying, creating symptoms and scenarios out of the ether. They can circle the drain, fixating on problem after potential problem. They can literally bring forth a potential health catastrophe into reality with constant focus on it. This paranoia can manifest in many ways, but sometimes they’re right!

Self-deprecation: They also may use self-deprecation or humor, or presenting as an “underdog” as a way to deflect being targeted or being seen as too big for their britches. They can project this onto other with a ‘tall poppies’ or ‘crabs in the bucket’ mentality.

ENNEAGRAM TYPE 7 - “MAD HATTER HEDONIST”

7’s like to see themselves as interesting, exciting, innovative, individualistic, creative and fun. Therefore they cannot see themselves as boring, normal, part of the grind or a downer. Of course, when going too hard into the personality type’s false belief, it creates a big ol’ shadow.

7’s avoid feeling trapped, limited, stifled, cut off and bored. 7's unconsciously seek new, interesting people/things/situations/interests to reinforce their type's ego because it assures them that they are fascinating, buoyant, original and compelling creatures. Therefore their survival continues.

Because the 7 utilizes “gluttony” they are unlikely to allow themselves to stagnate for too long, moving onto the next thing and the next thing and the next thing.

How this manifests:

Rationalization: Which means the 7 can subconsciously (or consciously) rationalize away shitty behaviors and dodge responsibility. They are usually averse to their specific flavours of what is “painful” and will reframe reframe reframe themselves up up up and away from whatever that source of “pain” is. Whether it’s the guilt of doing something awful, or the fall-out of saying something flippantly, or the consequences of a thoughtless action. They’re especially prone to rationalizing if making the pain conscious means they’re not able to do, be or have something they desire.

Distraction: They go into distraction seeking mode via hedonism, intellectual stimulation, adventures, extreme sports, partying, being totally manic and creating for 3 days straight, shopping, etc when they want to avoid discomfort, pain, boredom.

Repression: They use repression to bury negative emotions (in whatever flavour they despise) and push away anything that makes them feel like they’ve been victimized. 7’s can be emotional and melodramatic but it’s in the flavour they find the most interesting. They’re not here to be a boring victim or cry themselves to sleep every night over a loser.

Anticipation/Planning: They can over idealize an outcome to the point where they are more about getting the dopamine hits off anticipation than actually doing the thing or seeing whatever their harebrained scheme is through to completion.

Entitlement: 7’s can be massive brats about getting what they want. As frustration types they’re often focused on what they don’t have and what they want, but because they’re assertive they’re more likely to chase after it, expect it to be given to them, or push people out of the way to get it.

Pleasure-seeking/Hedonism: 7’s reject that which is not pleasurable because there’s nothing in it for them. When 7’s get into this “thank you, next” pattern it can become impossible for them to actualize or stick to something long enough for them to enjoy the fruits of all their initial excitement. The sparkle fades and there’s nothing tasty for the 7 to stick around and lick, so they’re likely to start looking for something else.

Rebellion: Like 6’s, 7’s can also be rebellious, but their reasons for rebelling are likely centered around freedom (literally or freedom of expression), anti-censorship, pro-individuality/individual choice. They can also just rebel for the hell of it if they’re bored, or if there are hot people associated with a cause.

ENNEAGRAM TYPE 8 - “FINAL BOSS”

8’s like to see themselves as powerful, invulnerable, independent, intimidating IDGAF leaders. Therefore they cannot see themselves as weak, under someone else’s heel, being controlled, powerless or soft. Of course, when going too hard into the personality type’s false belief, it creates a big ol’ shadow.

8’s avoid feeling weak, vulnerable, powerless, small or allowing anything to threaten them. 8's unconsciously deny vulnerabilities and weaknesses to reinforce their type's ego because it assures them that they are indeed powerful and no one can or will fuck with them. Therefore their survival continues.

Because the 8 utilizes “lust” they are unlikely to allow themselves to put themselves in a position where they could be steamrolled, deprived, slowed down or made small or powerless.

How this manifests:

Denial: 8’s use “Denial” by rejecting their own vulnerabilities or weaknesses. This can show up as denying emotions, fears, thoughts that don’t serve the 8’s ego identification of being powerful. They can also completely deny the existence of any perceived weak points that an “enemy” could use against them. If possible, they will lop off anyone or anything that causes them agitation (people, situations) or seems like a threat to their inner or outer sanctuary that they’ve created.

Rejection/Coldness: They can view softness and receptivity as death. If they weaken for a moment, they’ll get screwed over or tricked.

Reaction Formation: 8’s can express the opposite of how they feel. So they can feel really hurt but act like they’re emotionally impervious. You have no effect on the 8. You don’t matter. If you’ve wounded their steel heart, you’ll pay the price. Like the 7 they can deny victimhood, but they might personally feel quite slighted and seek revenge to get the ball back in their court, the power back in their hands, for how the person made them feel.

Aggression/assertiveness: 8’s can take up space and project an air of confidence in order to pre-defend against would-be attacks. Showing up with big bear or chaos demon energy ensures no one will fuck with them and that they’ll get what they want. Therefore they can be domineering, bossy, straight-shooters. My way or the highway.

Control/conquering: 8’s can be hyper controlling and even paranoid, depending on their position and the situation. They can take on the role of puppetmaster or dictator, to ensure things happen according to their plan and they’re not at the whims of someone else or underneath someone else’s thumb.

Justification: 8’s can be impulsive with their anger and feeling absolutely justified. The desired effect can be to crush whatever is pissing them off with their brutality and force.

ENNEAGRAM TYPE 9 - “SOOTHING SQUISH”

9’s like to see themselves as chill, empathetic, caring, supportive and deep. Therefore they cannot see themselves as provocative, disruptive, thoughtless, aggressive or selfish. Of course, when going too hard into the personality type’s false belief, it creates a big ol’ shadow.

9’s avoid feeling in conflict and stressed out. 9's unconsciously seek to be in harmony and flow with those around them and their environment to reinforce their type's ego because it assures them that they are chill, harmonious and connected.

If the 9 catches themselves in the act, or someone else does (gasp), it may increase the dissonance between the Shadow and Unintegrated Self if they don’t understand that it’s just their personality bs. Because the 9 utilizes “sloth” they are unlikely to allow themselves to just get after it, make demands, make bold moves.

How this manifests:

Narcotization/Dissociation: 9’s use narcotization which means to numb, to ease discomfort. This can manifest in multiple ways, falling asleep at the wheel of life - outsourcing decisions, independence, physical needs, to others. It can also show up as losing yourself in mindless side-tasks instead of just dealing with problems. They can dissociate from problems by numbing their heart and mind to what’s in front of them, or to just hope it resolves itself without any involvement or disruption to the 9’s existence.

9’s repress their anger in favor of keeping peace. They can be really annoyed and not able to verbalize it until it reaches a crisis point for the 9. The other person may be totally shocked when it happens, especially if the 9 kept telling them that everything was fine.

Passive Aggression: 9’s express how they feel indirectly and hoping the person picks up on their subtle cues without them having to generate conflict. This can also just slip out subconsciously through offhand comments, looks, tone or behaviors. And when confronted with it, they’ll likely recede into a mist and say nothing’s wrong.

9’s can also use “positive reframing”, not unlike 7, but theirs is more used as a numbing agent, smoothing out a dire situation or other people’s malintent, rudeness, or shitty behavior so it doesn’t result in conflict or upset.

Outsourcing: 9’s often give their power away, instead of asking for what they want or expressing themselves without being prompted. They can become disappointed when others fail to mind-read or intuit their needs without them having to assert themselves or vocalize it.

Self-Forgetting: Because 9’s can dance around their location in order to keep the peace and not lose connection, they can forget what they want or how they really feel about something.

Merging: Like 3’s, 9’s merge with the people around them, often taking on their interests, aesthetics, values and even mannerisms. However the 9 isn’t doing it to become an ideal and compete for validation, they do it because they over-identify with the idealized other to create harmony and melt into them.

7’s and 9’s can both procrastinate and get lost in multiple fantasies of possibilities, but the difference is that the 7 is likely taking an active, assertive approach and throwing spaghetti at the wall, whereas the 9’s dreams can fade away if they don’t have another person holding them accountable or a job to show up for or something external.

Ghosting: Instead of just saying “no,” often 9’s will be vague or give a “maybe” or “sure” if they don’t know their location in the moment or don’t want to rock the boat. And then they’ll disappear when followed up with.

SELF-REFLECTION PROMPTS (FOR JOURNALING)

Did you cringe at any of the behaviors listed? did you recognize any of these in yourself?

write out which ones you recognized. no judgment. it's not "you", it's just behaviors Created out of your personality's false belief. Unpack them. go back to the situation. what were you feeling at the time? what was running through your mind?

What did you need to know in that moment to feel totally safe and make a different choice?

What different choice can you make next time?

What would be the worst thing someone could say about you or make you feel?

Is there anything in your life that you can see as you trying to avoid this being said about you, control people's perceptions, or avoiding feeling?

Can you accept this behavior in yourself right now, forgive yourself, and choose to be more consciously aware?

If you want the accompanying "Unf*ck Yourself" mini workshop + pdf workbook join the membership and get it instantly. I apologize for how dry this is. Want to get typed or coached by me? Book here.

#enneagram #enneagram types #enneagram 4 #enneagram 7 #enneagram 8 #enneagram 3 #enneagram 9 #enneagram 6 #enneagram 2 #enneagram 1 #enneagram 5 #Youtube

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thesharktanksdriver · 1 year ago

Text

Blood's Thicker Than Water (Platonic)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But as a child you eventually put the thought away

Eventually you forget

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

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

It just seemed to grow the older you got

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

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

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

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

Nose buried in books lined with dust and old parchment

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

You studied from the ancients all the way up to Victorian

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

One well know to historians such as yourself

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

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

Ones well kept in archives and from the public eye

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

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

They for some reason seem to call to you specifically

Tempting you with forbidden knowledge you wish to taste like Eve

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

So you lie and wait

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

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

Hell you were in first year for gods sake

But somehow despite it all

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

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

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

You got to touch these artifacts

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

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

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

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

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

It’s great

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

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

Find new angles and perspectives on events

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

And even then sources can be biased

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

Your more than happy to try make your own interpretations

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

How could you not be?

Intricate gold woven in something akin to Grecian jewelry

Yet also had hints of something akin to Egyptian

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

Either way it’s an honour

One you don’t take lightly as you study it

Spending countless restless nights and days trying to crack its code

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

Betting big money on it much to your surprise and suspension

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

Especially since no one knows the name of the company

It’s just under an anonymous donation every month

It’s sketchy

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

Not when this beautiful place used to be underfunded

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

Not when this place was almost shut down

With a sigh you continue on your work

Diligently tact checking and writing up a storm

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

Well, along with being giant nerds

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

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

With a groan you wipe the blood away on your pants

Then going up to get a bandaid

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

Unknown to you the necklace starts to glow

When you get home your more exhausted than usual

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

Eyelids trying to glue themselves shut

You practically kick off your shoes before tumbling to the couch

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

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

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

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

But your mind writes it off

Your too tired to question anything let alone get up

All you want is sleep

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

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

Blurred images of odd men

A weird void-like realm

The cries of an eagle overhead

A single word appearing in your head

Kenway

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

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

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

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

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

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

And there you find several men in old garb

Accents of Red tying them together like a string of fate

Or a trail of blood fainting their very existence

they turn to you with sharp eyes

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

The face of your supposed dead father staring back at you

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

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

The bridge of your nose

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

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

Your posture as you decided what to do

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

Especially not when all of them are Kenway

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

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

You all but confirm his suspicions

Their suspicions

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

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

Neither were the other ones you looked at

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

It’s a lot to take in

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And in those cases things ended up fine

But now your faced with this

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

Cause logic is completely out the window at the moment

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

I mean, how couldn’t you be?

But you get the sense that they understand

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

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

So for now they’ll stay

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

Altaïr Ibn-La’ Ahad

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

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

Especially as he seems to find interest in your studies

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

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

So you indulge him

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

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

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

You answer as best you can

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

But he appreciates it anyways

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

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

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

But he does

He does and contributes whole heartedly in just as much passion

It’s nice

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

So now your both constantly coming up and developing ideas together

A constant back and forth

Hypotheses, discussion, and testing

Delving deeper into discovery like you’ve wanted

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

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

It drove who was left away

Made the pit in his heart deeper

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

And he warns you of it

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

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

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

He helps out and offers advice and guidance

Much like a teacher and grandfather of sorts

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Would I ever!”

Ezio Auditore da Firenze

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

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

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

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

Something that Ezio is seemingly trying to wrap his head around

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

Partially because you think he misses his immediate family and friends

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

Despite that though he keeps a brave face

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

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

Especially as he gives your poor hunched over back a break

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s happily rambling and teaching you words

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

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

But despite the facade you see the cracks

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

Or how Claudia would’ve liked this book

How Petruccio would have loved this toy

It….leaves a bitter taste in your mouth

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

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

One that would never come to fruition (until now)

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

Compared to the others he’s relatively open to modernizing

In fact he seems somewhat excited in these things

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

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

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

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

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

You call bullshit but have yet to find evidence

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

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

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

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

Meet Altair besides through a weird vision

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

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

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

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

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

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

Edward Kenway

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

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

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

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

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

Or more easily than he does with Haythem

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

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

You don’t talk

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

In his pursuit of power and gold he let people die

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

He changed and did good yet his past haunts him

Hands stained red

Guilt eating away

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

At some point when he stops his rambles you speak

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You see a human being at its core

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

One who was just as flawed as you and I

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mind blown

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

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

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

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

“Care to tell?”

“Aye, sure thing”

Haytham Kenway

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

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

From his father its confusion and sadness

The others it’s a mix of that and anger

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

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

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

A neutral zone so to say

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

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

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

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

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

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

Specifically when it comes to that of morals and philosophical beliefs

He is a conflicted man

A flawed one

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

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

Still seething with venom that burns his soul and flesh

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

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

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

What ideals and morals he still believes in even now

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To discuss your feelings of insucurity and confliction

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s…odd

With Connor he never had the chance to watch him grow

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

He feels melancholy

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

One that is seemingly being helped by your gentle hand unknowingly

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

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

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

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

Ratonhnhaké:ton/Connor Kenway

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And it’s the same likewise for him

Your both people deeply hurt and still bleeding internally

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

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

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

It’s odd but you feel truly understood

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In return you talk about what you know as well

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

An equal exchange of sorts

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

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

The times in which you need to breath

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

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

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

Taking you away to just take a moment for yourself

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

Letting the cold breeze take away your worries

It’s perhaps better than any type of verbal support

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

Of watching and knowing when you need a break

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

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

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

Connor is somewhat 50/50 in modernizing

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Desmond Miles

Yeah so this is entirely awkward for you

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

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

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

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

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

But then things got complicated

Things change

You began talking to the others

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

But you still try to avoid him

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

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

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

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

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

How would you even start?

What do you even say to him?

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

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

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

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

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

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

But what can you even do?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And your you

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

It hurts but it’s true

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

A mere blip or spark to the greater picture

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

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

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

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

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

But eventually he corners you

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

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

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

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

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

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

Small glances full of opportunities in them

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

Or even private benefactors of sorts

But then they turn their attention to you

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

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

They stand not too close nearby

Watching

Waiting

And then she begins talking

And slowly you grow more and more uncomfortable

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

They apparently are interested in your findings

In your research

But more specifically you

They’ve researched you…a lot

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

And your father

…but that’s not public knowledge

It wasn’t even on your birth certificate

This….this isn’t

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

Dangerous and sadistic of sorts

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

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

You didn’t mind

The less you know the better in that sense

Out of sight and out of mind

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

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

Abstergo

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

Mind drifting to that of panic

What would happen to you?

What will happen when the others find out?

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

When you wake up things are odd

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

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

Everything feels odd

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

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

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

A memory? Specifically one of your memories

Your staring at a simulation of sorts of your past self

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

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

Your left wordless and confused

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

This entire thing is a simulation of your memories

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

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

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

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

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

It hurts so damn much

Over and over

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

Left begging for it to stop

For someone to help

For the love of god someone help you make it stop

Of course this would happen to you

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

What utter bullshit

You can’t make good luck from bad

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

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

And your left in the void still reeling from it all

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

Blinding and bright as your still recovering

And then an unfamiliar voice tunes in

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Composed despite the chaos of it all

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

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

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

Footsteps far behind eventually stopping

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

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

Shay

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

Either way your grateful because how can you not be?

Your away from that place

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

Having the privacy of your memories looked at and prodded

But now your somewhat okay

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

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

but Shay doesn’t seem to mind

He offers an arm that you cling to for support

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

And then you notice his clothes are….old

Like Haytham and Connor level old

And…shit

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

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

Shays figure and presence is highlighted in a clover green

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

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

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

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

And the other person now attacking Shay

“Connor! He’s good! He saved me!”

“He’s a Templar!”

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

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

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

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

Both waiting on your word

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

“You’ve been gone for 4 days”

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

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

It’s….odd but nice

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

He looks like hell

But none of the others are any better either

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

Your home

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But with this entire situation it also highlights something bigger

Your not safe

None of you are safe

Perhaps you never truly were

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Only time can tell what will bring upon you next

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

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

But maybe you understand it a bit better now

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

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