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whatthebodygraspsnot · 1 day ago

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part two of baby sub ian tags: sex club, first time sub! ian, experienced dom! mickey, ian is nervous and cute and doesn’t know what he wants exactly, all he knows is he’s very into mickey [ part one ]

“Fuck,” he grins, giving Ian’s cheek two promising pats before stepping away, “you’re gonna be fun.”

It leaves Ian with another flutter in his chest. A buzz humming to life beneath his skin as he watches after him, his face warm where he was pat just a tiny bit harder.

“Lose the shirt.”

A blink. More buzzing - a touch frantic this time. Because wait. “You mean right now?”

It must not be the right thing to say, but can you blame him? They’re moving fast. Or maybe they aren’t. It’s not like this guy’s got Ian strung upside down from the ceiling ropes, it’s just-

The sudden impact of a chair landing in front of him has Ian’s head flying back - nowhere near within range, but still startled because Jesus-

In one smooth, controlled motion, the dom sits himself and then leans in on his elbows until he’s blocked out everything else in Ian’s field of vision. Only him. Only what he’s saying. “Lemme tell you how shit works in here.”

Oh fuck, Ian’s getting in trouble already. How’d he manage to fuck up so quick?

And since when does getting in trouble send a nasty little horny swoop through him?

“You’re a baby, so I don’t expect you to know. But you better turn your fuckin’ Listening Ears on because after this, I do. Got it?”

Ian nods, blinking owlishly.

“Say ‘yes sir’.”

Fuck. “Yes sir.”

He hooks his fingers into the front of Ian’s shirt collar and tugs him impossibly closer, shooting excitement up his spine and then pooling in his belly. “I tell you to do something, you do it. Yes?”

“Yes sir.”

“You don’t do it, what do you think happens?”

Ian swallows thickly, eyes pulling up from the hypnotizing revelation of watching that mouth move up close. “Wh-... Um…” What happens? “Probably…whatever you wanna do to me, sir…?”

An educated guess. Filling in blanks.

And fucking finally, one that seems to please, the grin that works across the dom’s face only the slightest bit patronizing. “See? Knew you weren’t dumb… Now, arms up.”

With a little exhale of victory on the lean back, Ian does just that - hands up and elbows bent and oh - okay - they’re getting tugged higher, controlling hands wrapping around his wrists and manhandling them upward together until he’s stretched all the way. Right! Up-up, he meant.

The touch stays true - not exactly squeezing but definitely firm - the close rush of it all filling his senses with the warm, tempting smell of his cologne.

Ian can feel himself squirming just the slightest bit on the pillow, shoulders to his ears. And when the grip around his wrists eases off, he’s smart enough now to fill in the blanks for himself. Keep his arms up. Be patient. Do as Sir says.

Because he’s speaking again, voice slow and steady. “I’ll help you. How’s that sound…”

His fingertips brush beneath the hem of his shirt. Make Ian’s stomach tense in a flutter of anticipation. Sounds pretty fucking good to him. “Thank you, sir…”

The slip of cotton over his skin is agonizingly unrushed. Like the dom is doing this more for himself than anything - unwrapping a gift that’s been left for him to play with.

“Let’s see what you brought me tonight…”

And Ian doesn’t know what he’s supposed to be focusing on. The very pointed tease of that last wording? The feeling of his shirt being slid up and over his chest…his shoulders…his face…exposing him to the room and blue, scrutinizing eyes?

There’s an ache starting to build in his arms and also much, much lower.

Warm cotton slips past his hands. Pulls free from him entirely, his t-shirt now nothing more than a mess on the floor. But he’s got no trouble focusing on the subtle brow quirk in front of him now, those eyes taking their time to pour over Ian’s bare chest and lower.

It’s like he’s getting eaten alive, without a single touch. Like he’s going through the most intense inspection of his life.

And… “Am I-...” Jesus Christ, the silence… “Do you…like me, sir…?”

It comes out crazy needy. Pathetic, almost - something Ian wasn’t aiming for in any way while trying to break the silence.

But Sir fucking likes that, doesn’t he? It must explain the grin that’s starting to dance across his face, amused and maybe just the slightest bit endeared. “You’re takin’ care of yourself. That’s good.” And then, the air drawing from the room as he leans forward, foreheads practically touching to murmur nice and close, “And you speak outta turn again, you’re gettin’ hit. You hear me?”

Exhilarating. Goosebumps rising over his bare skin. A thrill that edges into something nasty as it works between Ian's legs. Because holy fuck. “Yes sir…” he says up to him, in his best-behaved voice. “Sorry, sir…”

The dom nods with him, slipping back into that patronizing tease as he leans back, chain glinting. And when those hands work their way over Ian for the first time - steady, warm, sliding confidently up the sides of his neck as he lets out an easy exhale - Jesus Christ, Ian's ready to commit to pretty much anything.

Because it hasn’t even been that long since he stepped into the room, but now that he’s given Ian his touch, it feels like he’s been waiting an eternity.

“Oh…” he breathes out, eyes growing strangely heavy as tattooed hands work up his neck…around the nape…and then slide down his chest to hook below his armpits and give his sides a firm squeeze… Holy fuck, that feels good… Different, but immediately pleasurable...

“Gonna needya to be a fast learner for me, okay Ian…?” he hears like some sort of strange fever dream, only then realizing his eyes have closed. “Wanna use all our time right…not waste any tellin’ you the same shit over and over…”

His hands squeeze over his ribs again, indulgent, and then work up to feel over Ian’s chest, another one of those swoops of arousal dipping low as teasing thumbs brush across his nipples.

“You hear me…?”

Ian forces his eyes open. Can feel heat spreading in his face and creeping down his neck. “I hear you, sir…”

Another tease of his nipples. Fingers trailing down and up…down and up…down and up…

“You lift a lotta weights, tough guy…?”

“Yes sir…”

“Then you can keep your fuckin’ arms up until I say, can’tya…”

Ian blinks his eyes back open in surprise - pulling himself back to where he’s kneeling - where he’s being felt up, now very much with his arms fallen back down to his sides.

Whoops.

Not exactly sure when that happened, but he’s quick to correct it, shoulders pressing over his ears again. “Sorry…”

“Just talked about wastin’ my time.”

“I know.” A tiny pang of worry pulses through his heart as he tries to hold the dom’s gaze in such a vulnerable pose. “I know, I’m sorry. It’s just-...” God… “I just like it…” Sir’s hands on him… “It feels good…”

Surely he can understand. Ian is just a baby, after all - his words.

He fires off a little brow furrow for good measure, hoping to win some points.

And it must be working, because he hasn’t stopped touching him. And he’s not yelling at him. He’s just looking, keeping Ian locked in his sights as he slides one hand up the column of his throat and then leaves it there - the slightest pressure. “You think just ‘cause you’re cute, I’m gonna let shit slide…?”

A warning.

No. An opportunity.

Because…

“...maybe…?” Ian tries, breaking out that best-behaved voice again. “...sometimes…?”

And god, the dom just peers at him - straight into his soul - working every bit of Ian out and coming to his own conclusions - things Ian could never hope to understand about himself without these tattooed, guiding hands. “Might be your first time and all, but shit…” he huffs, right over the trace of a smirk that levels Ian into the ground. “Already know exactly what you are…”

#hello. ask and you shall recieve.#gallavich #ray writes #baby sub ian au #why am i doing it like this? because i crave attention and interaction

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sulfies · 1 day ago

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If I Lead (pt 6)

part 5 here

Oh, he was fucked.

He was utterly fucked and he was going to reap what he sowed.

What was he thinking really? Staying in the town THE MAN OWNED, expecting not to be found.

Of course, he was going to show up in Ezio’s vision! Any normal person with a brain would check a person in a tower that is supposed to be closed off!

He thought he was safe when Ezio didn't even glance at his way when he walked by the training rounds… Then when they locked eyes he turned around with no question on his face, Desmond had thought…

He had clearly thought wrong.

He slid down back to his blankets… his hands on his face he groaned loudly. He was so fucking stupid!

His fists slid to his hair and pulled, shaking his head he breathed deeply.

He couldn't even skip towns now because Ezio would fucking find him! He didn't need his threats to know he could!

“Shit, shit, shit”

He wanted to scream, how much more suspicious could he be really? He knew Ezio didn't buy his answers and he didn't try too hard to sell them either. No matter what he came up with he would look suspicious.

What was he supposed to say; ‘I am binding my time till I can get to the Piece of Apple before you, oh also you don't even know what that is yet but you will very soon?’

He was lucky Ezio didn't even try to kill him…

At least that probably meant he didn't show up as red, because why else would he not press for answers in other ways? Now he was basically in a house arrest so maybe death would have made things easier.

He should have left the place the moment he realized where and when he was… He should have walked and walked till he got as far as he could go. But no, he ‘had’ to stay in fucking Monteriggioni, he just ‘had’ to wait till he got funds, he ‘had’ to have a horse as if he couldn't make it work on foot before in the FUCKING APOCALIPSE.

One of his hands slammed on the wall behind him, the pain and shock clearing some of the fog away from his head.

He would get out the moment Ezio left back for Venice. He could and would not stay in Monteriggioni, he knew that for sure. Ezio had bigger worries than a strange man in his town.

He still had a chance to fix this fuck-up.

He would stay outside of Venice, live in the forest outside the gates if he had to. Would wait for the time the ship would get to the dock away from any eyes.

If Ezio had time to track him in between all his bullshit then he would….Well, not kill him. He couldn't do that nor wanted to… but he figured, with all the Animus doping, he could get away with a broken bone or two on both sides.

He gazed up, his fist was tingling in time with his heartbeats. Desmond let a long breath out, then back in.

He had to wait for Ezio to leave Monteriggioni once again for his mission… If his Animus memories were right, He never stayed long in town during visits.

He just had to wait for his opening.

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He could feel Ezio’s eyes on him.

From the moment He, Vincenzo and the recruits made it to the training grounds he felt the hairs on his neck stand tall.

One quick glimpse with his vision showed that, yes… Ezio was watching him from the manor.

So this is how it was going to be.

His shoulders slumped as he tried to ignore looking at the window Ezio was standing behind, keeping his eyes on the general location of the training group of mercenaries.

He could see five more mercenaries than he knew were there. His bleeds were usually just ghosts of figures in the corner of his eyes at this point, but since yesterday they were a bit more in the front. Stress tended to make them worse and calling yesterday stressful didn't even cut it.

“Now, Don’t you look chipper today?”

Desmond groaned “Don't start Vincenzo…”

“What? You look like something crawled up your ass.”

Desmond waved his hand in a go-away motion but knew it wouldn't deter Vincenzo. The other man leaned his hip on the railing. He just kept staring at the imaginary men swinging their swords near the others. The silence only lasted a few more seconds.

“Apparently, our midday patrol has been increased to cover the area after the mills also…”

Desmond looked to his side at Vincenzo with a hum. “Did you finally tell Marsilio about my concern then?”

“As if I’d let you make more work for us.” He clicked his tongue. “No, we have the king of the land to thank for this…”

“Oh…” Desmond chewed on his lip. Guess Ezio had the same idea as him. It would be easy for bandits to learn their patrol zones and camp just a bit more far ahead to hide if they kept on going around the same area. “Bet Marsilio wasn’t so happy about that.”

“You don't say… He has been a bitch to talk with, Ser Ezio has been driving him mad. All the ass-kissing he did to Ser Mario has been dusted over.”

Desmond sighed and leaned on the railings. “Well, It's not like…”

Vincenzo cut him off “Oh sod off, don't start at your lectures. You are always happy to take on more work” His voice took on a mocking tone.

“Great, I don't even need to add anything to this conversation then” Desmond grumbled. “An hour or so extra added to the patrols won't kill them…”

Vincenzo mirrored his pose on the railing and wiped his face with a palm. “Sure, sure. But this isn't the King’s army we are leading here, is it? Nothing ever happens around here.”

Desmond gave him one of his usual hums which got a sideways grin back from the man. “God, you are such an uptight asshole.”

Desmond smiled back at him tiredly “I know”

This was a regular topic of bickering/disagreement between him and the rest of them. The Others found his standing on this kind of stuff…cute, for the lack of a better word. He usually stayed in his lane, aware of his rank and place in the order and never spoke his mind fully, but something did slip every now and then.

Maybe it was because of his tone or how he got things done fast when he was asked but they didn't get too mad when they heard his ‘annoying’ opinions on how the mercenaries conducted their business in Monteriggioni. They just ignored his quips and chalked it up to him being too uptight or paranoid… though on rare occasions, they actually did listen to him.

Like, last week Vincenzo finally letting him add some extra moves into their training routine that would build up the men's stamina.

“You will come with us to the tavern tonight, yes?”

Desmond huffed “Like I have a choice, Angelo said he would get Marsilio to dock my pay if I refused.”

Vincenzo let a loud laugh. “Because he knows your sore ass needs to relax a bit. Also, he and the others enjoy your company.”

He knew they did, he would go along with their jokes with the help of his old bartender glamour, give some basic advice to their youthful worries and redirect questions as much as he could with a put-on wit but it was not fun for him.

He didn't want to talk about what young maiden they screwed over at the brothel this week or the fight they had with their wife last night. He was really regretting all the charm he turned on when he first got the job, maybe he should have faked being mute or something.

He looked up in the direction of the manor, knowing he was still being watched.

Too late for that now.

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To his delight, Ezio did not bother him during training or the mid-day patrol.

But that didn't mean he could catch a break.

He saw the golden glow still stalk his vision from up on the walls of the gate and during the new rounds the man around him refused to stop complaining, finding companionship in their shared misery their mouths worked more than usual and the combination of it all was getting on Desmond’s nerves.

Once they made their way back he stood by the side of the gate with his bow and quiver, waiting till everyone dispersed back to the barrack or homes. Checking with his sight he saw no sign of Ezio, so he decided to take advantage of this time of rest without his warden.

He made his way out to the forests he hunted at for the past month and a half, turning on his vision he walked around a bit till he found some tracks belonging to a sizeable game.

Thanks to Connor he had a very easy time tracking any kind of animal he needed and knew just what to do.

It had been the most useful after the flare.

He liked hunting.

It calmed him and was not too far away from what he did back at his camp regularly.

It was mainly his job to bring food back to the commune they had. When their rations first ran out, Shaun had made a rule for them quickly; You could not hunt unless you were sure there were two others of it that could continue the circle of life.

Each year it got easier to find a third one out of a couple and after two decades they could finally hunt without worrying too much about the damage their arrows could be doing to the numbers.

They even had a small group of survivors who did hunting trips in a group after Rebecca got him to teach some of them how to supply more food to their growing numbers.

Desmond kneeled next to the track of hoofprints he found, turning on his sight he followed the golden trail that appeared before him slowly. Stopping every now and then to refocus on the glow.

When he finally got the deer in his sights he kneeled behind a nearby bush very slowly and moved his bow up.

It was standing between two trees, eating with no notice of Desmond's presence.

He breathed in and out, drawing the string he focused keeping his hand steady and aiming for the vitals.

He gave a short whistle to catch its attention and at the same time let his string go. The arrow struck the poor thing right in its main artery as it whipped its head around to look at his way, collapsing on the ground the next second with a sad mewl.

He got up and went near his prize as he sheathed his bow over his shoulder.

Kneeling next to the animal, he drew his dagger from his side and made a quick work to end the misery of it with one stab. He pulled out the arrow from the side of its neck and started to maneuver the deer into position so he could skin it comfortably.

Just a few seconds after he started his process he heard the grass behind him get crushed under deliberately loud footsteps.

He did his best to not roll his eyes. Looked like recess was over.

“Nice shot…”

Desmond ignored the man behind him. Focusing on the task in his hands.

“I know hunters with decades behind their belts that can't pull off a clean shot like that.”

Desmond made quick work with his blade, tearing the skin apart from the muscle with each cut.

A shadow fell over him and the animal. He could see Ezio stepping next to him from the side of his vision.

An impressed whistle rang in the air “Damn, you are fast.”

Desmond held his sigh in and shook his head. Rolling the animal over he continued his work.

“You know silent treatment won't make me quit my questions. I can stay here till you answer, I rather enjoy watching this process you are doing, I'm not much of a hunter myself.”

With that comment, Desmond let the sigh he was holding go. Was Ezio this much of a talker before?

He could see the young assassin grinning out of the corner of his eye.

He continued with his work, tearing the last bit of pelt away from the animal's body and shaking it out. He rolled it up and got a piece of rope out from his belt loops to tie it.

As his hands worked, He saw Ezio’s mouth open to say something again. Desmond cut in “My answers won't change much from yesterday ser Ezio”

Ezio turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow.

“We both know the answers you gave me last night were bullshit.”

Desmond pressed his lips in a thin line.

“Are you a hunter or something as your main trade?”

Desmond tied the pelt onto the deer with the rest of the rope for easy carry.

“No, I’m just used to hunting for food.”

“Is this another one of your methods to ‘save’ money?”

Ezio was always fast at connecting dots together.

Desmond got up and grabbed the deer by its legs. Ezio stepped back as he hauled the animal onto his shoulders, the pelt facing the side that was touching his back.

“Your silence just confirms my questions.”

He clicked his tongue in annoyance.

Still ignoring him, started walking back and Ezio followed on his tail. They were quite a bit far from the gates and he knew Ezio would not drop his interrogation anytime soon.

“Where in Florance do you hail from Ser Domenico? Maybe my family knew of you.”

He gritted his teeth “They wouldn't. Grew up in the streets.”

“How convenient…” Desmond snorted, what a crazy answer to say to someone telling you they were homeless as a kid. It was a lie, but still…

“What will you do in Venice?”

“I told you, my wife is waiting for me, taking care of her sick mother.”

He heard Ezio huff in frustration at his answers. Good… Now they were both equally annoyed. Maybe he would put a rest in this back-and-forth game then.

“What did you do before coming here?”

“Joined the daily patrol around the village…”

“You know that's not what I asked.”

Desmond bit back with sarcasm “Is it not? My apologies Sir”

He suddenly got yanked back, dropping the deer onto the grass with the shock of it. Before he could shout in surprise, Ezio was in his face.

“I'd like to think I am being extremely charitable here to your attitude Ser Domenico, but my kindness does have its limits.” He took a step towards him.

“I deserve some real answers and some respect. You are in my land, clearly after something that concerns me!”

Desmond clenched his fist as he looked at the deer on the ground, what gave Ezio the right to pull him around like that.

He just wanted to leave this place and if it was not for Ezio he would have already been gone first thing in the morning and if it was not for the apple he would not even been here in the first place!

He lived through all of this once he didn’t need a second time! At least back then Animus was merciful enough to skip the empty bits and teleport him to where Ezio needed to be.

He thought he was done with this ‘time’, that he had put all of this period of people behind him. Done with everything that happened in the literal past and tasked to protect his present but now once again he was sucked right back in.

He did not want to do all of this all over again! He had people to take care of; Shaun was waiting for the data of his findings, and Rebecca was going to get his help with her new project once he had made it back. They had to fix a leak in their communal eating hut, he had promised to get to it soon and he wanted to be there to complete his other obligations he never got to before he left.

There were meetings he had to hold, conversations he had put off and many more tasks he thought he would get to complete once he was back…

But all of this was taken away from him in a second just when he finally started to make some things right.

“Not everything is about you.” Spat Desmond and He felt the anger bubble beneath his skin.

It was always the apples, always his ancestors, all his actions always had to tie back to them!

His eyes were still stuck on the deer on the floor. Why was it always only him who got yanked around. Why pull him here? To help him run away from his mistakes after so long? To punish him?

Ezio let out a scoff, shocked by the audacity thrown in his face.

“You cannot be serious! Your whole demeanour screams that it has something to do with me. What innocent men would speak the way you do?” He pointed at his face, teeth bared in anger. “I should end you right at this moment for even daring to act this way.”

Whipping his head to look at him straight in the eyes Desmond sneered back in frustration “If I had any ill will towards you, if I was going to do anything here, wouldn't I have already done it before you came back?”

“Then tell me your goal! Do I have to fucking torture you to get you to talk, you bastard?” Ezio pushed him slightly, jabbing a finger at his chest. “Why the fuck are you here? What Is your goal?!”

Both refused to part their sight from one another for a long time.

Desmond's shoulders were tense and drawn back, his right hand ready to draw back in a moment's notice to throw its weight to a target and Ezio’s wrist was flexing by his side, debating if he should just end this hassle with one swipe.

If this continued, blood was going to be drawn and that realization gave a pause to Desmond's running thoughts.

The figure meeting his eyes looked so young now that he was looking at him head-on, compared to last night's candlelit view. Ezio’s lips were in a tight line, his eyes had a flame behind them. Desmond noticed he never had gotten to see Ezio from this point of view before.

He only ever witnessed him from Ezio’s own eyes.

Shrugging his shoulders down, Desmond leaned back in defeat.

This wasn’t the 50-year-old mentor he last remembered. Barely a decade had passed since his biggest tragedy, his hands were still freshly stained with blood, still in his quest for revenge. Ezios outfits glitched before his eyes for a second, scrolling through the different phases of his life he had yet to get.

“Are you going to speak?!”

Desmond closed his eyes and held his hand out in a stop. Breathing in and out for a couple of seconds as blood rushed through his ears. His other hand massaged his temple. Shit, maybe he was being a bit unfair to him. He was supposed to be the grown-up…

Ezio didn't know shit yet, he didn't know what tragedies awaited him and here he was being another reason for stress in his life when he came back to take a rare break from all the crazy that was going on back in Venice.

“Alright…Fuck, okay fine… I'll talk.” He opened his eyes to see Ezio with his hands on his hips, his eyebrows crossed with a slight look of concern.

Desmond wiped his sweaty hands on his pants, licking his lips nervously.

“Look, I’m- I’m being truthful when I tell you I am not here to harm you or the people here.” He continued after taking a breath “I need to get to Venice…But no wife is waiting for me there.”

He placed his hand on his chest. “My goals have nothing to do with yours, bad or good it will not affect your life…there is…a ship with a special delivery I need to board when it arrives.”

Hopefully, when he did, He could just touch the apple like before and appear in that cave where he committed his stupidest mistake like nothing ever happened.

He looked at Ezio with earnest eyes “I am just trying to get back to my people, and I need to get to Venice to do that.”

Ezio shifted his weight on one leg, his eyes roamed around for a few seconds. Tolling over what to say. The anger from before slightly died down in his tone after Desmond’s talk.

“Your people… Why are you even here then?”

Desmond didn't lie in his answer “I have no fucking idea.”

“What?”

He gave a soft smile. “I have no idea how I got here or why I am here.”

Ezio thought over his answer. “No idea how? You lost your memory or something?”

Desmond just looked at him “No, I remember everything before but I have no memory of ever stepping foot in Monteriggioni by my own will.”

“Cazzo… I…” He tilted his head, then turned away in confusion “I can’t believe I am even entertaining what you said as an answer. You barely have given me more than the lies you have spat before… I just have more questions than answers.”

Desmond sighed. Ezio was right, he knew that. But he could not speak of the apple yet and he did not want to anyway. It was too late to get Ezio off his back but he needed to give the man something for him to at least get out of this house arrest.

He was going to regret what he said next…

“I am an assassin.”

Ezio turned back at him so fast, he looked like he almost gave himself a whiplash.

Desmond held up his hands “I swear to you, that is true.”

Ezio squinted his eyes, his face full of distrust. “All your lies… I will not treat you kindly if this is one of them.”

“I am not lying, not about this.” Desmond shook his head. “Look…” He started to roll up his right arm sleeve.

Most of the mercenaries chose to roll them up above their biceps except for him, for two reasons: One, he did not want the tattoo on his left arm to be a talking point or a reason for recognition and two…

“A hidden blade…” Ezio’s hand grabbed his wrist to look closer at the mechanism strapped to his wrist.

It had quite the wear and tear but Shaun and Rebecca had helped him with its upkeep all these years. The leather straps had flaked on some of the edges and the metal plate holding the blade was less shiny than it was before, but the blade was still as sharp as ever and it slid out with the ease it should.

Ezio moved Desmond's hand to activate the blade a couple of times, eyes looking at all the different details, taking in the more simplistic design it had than his blades.

Desmond stood there as his arm was turned over under Ezios hands, his fingers touching every part of the bracer strapped on his arm, he was not used to this much skinship…

He coughed and Ezio politely let his arm go, stepping back he looked over Desmond with a more calculating gaze. “Why not just say all this at the start? We could have avoided all this-”

Desmond rolled his sleeve down as he spoke over “I told you… my mission is separate from yours. I am not here for you or anyone else, I am just trying to get back.”

Ezio’s focused back on the cuff that hid his hidden blade. Silent for a few seconds before he spoke. “I thought I was the only Assassin left in Italy.”

Desmond wrinkled his nose in pity. Nearly half of Ezio’s closest allies were one but the others would not reveal themselves for a long while. Which was a decision he never understood before… They trusted him enough to take on their biggest mission but not enough to let him know the full truth.

That was a parallel they shared together in their lives.

“Sadly, I am not an Italian Assassin.”

Ezio furrowed his brows “What do you mean? Aren’t you from Florence?” as soon as he said it he thought the answer on his own. “But your accent… Where are you from then?”

Desmond scratched his beard. He had already told too much. “Far West…”

“I am never going to get full answers from you am I?”

Desmond smiled back as an answer and Ezio gave a defeated sigh. “Fuck, fine… I feel like Father is probably turning over in his grave seeing the grace I am giving you.” He put his hands on his hips and looked at Desmond with a new shine in his eyes.

“You are not off the cuff yet by the way. You still cannot leave this place in the middle of the night before I figure out what to do with you.”

Great so nothing had changed for him…

“But I will permit you to leave with me to Venice when I go back. I’ll accompany you till you get where you need to be.”

Desmond’s eye twitched and his smile dropped. That was fucking worse.

#fanfic #if i lead #ezio auditore #desmond miles #assassin's creed #Here yall go.... man #this felt like it took a lifetime #especially their verbal fight... I rewrote it so many times #but it is done :3

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maxdibert · 14 hours ago

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I wished lily wasn't the reason for Severus' loyalty. The revelation of his love for her (platonically or romantically) was truly important. You have the incident that kickstarted the prophecy. Severus' switch to the order. Voldemort giving Lily a chance to choose. Severus playing an important role in the second wizarding war. All because of a friendship of two people from spinner's end.

JKR should have developed it more. I understand that she went for the twist, but when the thrill of the discovery is gone there are so many questions that are unanswered.

first, I do not like Lily as a friend. She forgives the marauders for the years of bullying, see her 'best friend' being hanged upside down and threatened to have his genitals exposed. Who the fuck does that ? Also when Harry asked if his mother knew that James still bullying Severus in the seventh year, remus answered with "she did not know too much." so she knew something...

I do not like Lily as a sister, why did she not let James know that vernon probably doesn't know anything about the wizarding world before they went on dinner. I mean wth is Petunia supposed to say to Vernon ? "Oh yeah my sister is a witch and she went to this magical school". Not the best way to make a men fall in love with you. Is Petunia even allowed to tell Vernon all of this under the secrecy law? (I'm aware that restaurant scene is not canon, but that's what I thought when I read it on the website).

I don't like the way she uses her other friends opinion of Severus and their friendship, who clearly don't like Severus, as an argument to why Severus should stop hanging out with his Slytherin friends. Why are your friends even discussing Severus?

Also, I don't like the way she idolize Albus Dumbledore. Severus' got bullied for years, and Dumbledore did nothing. Severus was nearly killed by a werewolf and Dumbledore made Severus swear to never talk about it. What did he do, he made James head boy. Yeah if that happened to me and this man was the leader of the order, I might have asked for the death eater sign up too. Ridiculous.

By making his love for her so pure and selfless, it makes me wonder why he loves her so much. We know nothing, and the things we know just make me go "bruh really.... her ? .... she would not spare a thought for you if your funeral was announced in the papers".

Listen I was never part of the cool kids, so perhaps I don't understand her. But then again, for a Gryffindor, she really is a social coward.

It makes everything so bloody tragic. I sometimes wonder if I'd wished Severus stayed a death eater in the story but then one with guilt because he started caring about the professors and children through the years of working there.

It was honestly funny to read all of this because it feels like listening to myself when I was 16 or 17. I mean, even before I was a fan of Severus—because that came with time—I had a pretty neutral opinion of the character. I didn’t dislike him because I understood his motivations, but I wasn’t particularly a fan either. And if I wasn’t a fan, it was precisely because of everything you’re talking about.

A lot of people say Severus was an obsessive incel who spent 24/7 thinking about Lily, but I never saw it that way—I just thought he was an idiot. I thought, Wow, what an absolute moron. Like, did he really sacrifice his entire life for a woman who was actually kind of a piece of shit? Did he really give up everything to protect the son of his bully and the woman who married said bully? Could you be a bigger loser? No, seriously, could you be more pathetic? Because that woman not only let him be bullied for years, she almost smiled at his bully while he was publicly stripping him. She practically blamed him for her lack of popularity because she was seen with him, and somehow, he was supposed to be grateful. She gaslit him when he tried to tell her about what his abusers were doing to him. She literally told him he should be grateful to one of his abusers. Like, this woman was a piece of shit who was just looking to climb the social ladder. She loved being Gryffindor’s golden girl, just like she was the golden girl back home, and she hated that she had a weird, ugly, nerdy friend with questionable associations who tainted her image. On top of that, she loved having Gryffindor’s rich, pureblood king fawning over her because it was yet another symbol of status—but, of course, she had to play hard to get because good girls always resist bad boys.

That’s how I saw Lily Evans (and honestly, how I still see her), and it seemed absurd to me that Severus would have given so much for her when, honestly, I would have told her to fuck off. Like, if I were Severus, I would’ve dropped her the first time she gaslit me about my abusers. But if for some reason I had still stuck around after that, the moment I saw her almost smiling at my main abuser while he was stripping me in public, I would’ve beaten her so hard she’d have lost all her teeth.

That was my mindset when I was younger, before I learned a lot of things. Back then, I didn’t know what toxic friendships were or how easy it was to fall into them. I had no idea what codependency was, nor did I understand what an attachment figure was. At the time, I grasped some of these concepts vaguely, but over the years, I not only understood them more deeply but also experienced them—both personally and through people around me.

As I got older, I realized that the fact that Severus came from a home where he felt terribly unsafe, and that Lily represented his first safe place as a child, played a huge role in his cognitive development and psyche. In some way, he was always going to be grateful to her for probably being the only good thing in his childhood. And those childhood attachments are some of the strongest and hardest to break because they’re so deeply ingrained in a person. On top of that, Lily was his friend for years, during key developmental stages, and he probably didn’t see all of her flaws��he had her idealized. He grew up in a house where violence was the norm, and his classmates at Hogwarts also treated violence as normal. Lily was different, so he simply wasn’t capable of recognizing problematic behaviors that anyone with a healthy upbringing and healthy role models would have seen immediately. Because he didn’t have those things.

We’re not talking about a character who had examples of healthy behavior, affection, or attachments—we’re talking about someone who had the opposite. So, of course, he wasn’t capable of seeing anything bad in Lily. To him, she was the good in his environment. She was his moral compass, a kind of lighthouse to guide him when he wanted to know if he was heading in the right direction. It’s even possible that he never blamed her for marrying James, and instead, just thought it was normal that she gave in—because she was so good that she could see the good in even horrible people like James. Or maybe he believed James had somehow deceived her.

Severus’s attachment to Lily is kind of like a child who idolizes their mother and is completely unable to see her flaws—even when she acts like a complete asshole—because she’s their mother. And if she does something bad, well, it’s probably the fault of the people around her, not her. That’s exactly how Severus saw Lily.

When I understood all of this, I felt like I finally understood the character and his motivations better. I think it’s important to look at it not from our perspective as outsiders forming opinions, but from his perspective as someone inside the situation—someone who was emotionally dependent on her and either didn’t see the truth or didn’t want to see it.

Over the years, I’ve toned down my discourse about Lily, but my opinion of her hasn’t changed all that much from when I was a teenager. The only difference is that now I rationalize it better. But I still think she was a self-centered social climber. The only thing that’s changed is that before, I just thought she was a shallow, frivolous person—now I give her a little more credit and think her behavior was based on an inferiority complex stemming from her working-class background and her Muggle heritage.

But that doesn’t change the core of the issue. And honestly? I think she and James Potter were a perfect match—two absolute assholes who deserved each other. In fact, I’ve never been bothered by Jily because I’ve always thought they belonged together. Equally insufferable.

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