#dandes

[teecupangel]

(i sent my prev ask unfinished ignore it pls)

i was wondering because i have seen you talk about multiple desmond ships… any daniel cross/desmond headcanons or ideas?

I swore I’ve gotten an ask about Daniel x Desmond but I can’t find it.

For all I know, I could have just imagined it hahahaha

So let’s go full on regression setup XD

Cross wakes up back in Abstergo New York Branch. According to the calendar app in his ‘old’ phone, he had an appointment with Warren Vidic in 10 minutes.

Now that he thought about it…

He was standing in the hallway that would lead to meeting room that had been ‘set’ as the place in his calendar app’s meeting reminder.

He must have been walking towards it when he stopped to… what?

Have a vision of the future?

Or to have his conscious be taken over by his future dead self?

Either way, Daniel already knew what the meeting was about.

He would be tasked to lead the team sent to kidnap a Desmond Miles and transfer him to the research facility in Rome.

.

It was supposed to be an easy snatch and grab.

Desmond Miles was weak.

Too tired from working a double shift.

Too used to a never-changing daily life.

That was what happened in the previous timeline.

Desmond tried to put up a fight.

He even managed to hit one of the men on the neck hard enough that the man might not be able to speak anytime soon.

But he was outnumbered, rusty and tired.

There was no way for him to escape.

That was what was supposed to happen.

And now…

Daniel looked at the carnage around the supposed tired overworked underpaid runaway Assassin.

Every man who tried to charge him were on the ground, dead from precise single strikes that aimed at their neck.

And Desmond Miles…

Not a single drop of blood even touched him.

The only thing bloodied was the simple knife he had. A lean sharp knife that would have probably been used slicing garnishes for drinks.

A knife he didn’t have in the previous timeline.

Desmond flicked his wrist, cleaning off the knife’s blade effortlessly.

Daniel’s lips curved into a manic grin as Desmond faced him.

Instead of confusion and fear…

Desmond looked at him with a blank expression.

Befitting a Master Assassin.

“You came back too, didn’t you?” Daniel asked as he unholstered his gun.

He could fire off a shot or two before Desmond reached him.

He’d hit him.

He has never felt clearer than he did right now.

Nikolai has been silent this entire time.

Maybe it was because he wasn’t the old Daniel Cross.

Or maybe…

It was because Desmond Miles loves more beautiful than ever.

The determination to kill Daniel clear in his eyes.

[seventhstrife]

I reread that one cross our ❤️S prompt where Alex finds Desmond on the edge of the roof, and now I really want to know how his other love interests would react in that scenario (Delsin, Clay, Daniel, etc)

also when I read the update 4 step by step I legit hugged my iPad.

Delsin:

would fucking PANIC oh my god, it would really fuck him up to see des like that...he's already lost reggie, he literally can't watch anyone else fall 😭😭😭

Clay:

he'd understand more than anyone how it feels to barely cling to your sanity, so he'd be sad, but not surprised, especially since he knows how using the animus so aggressively takes something fundamental out of you. he'd be able to coax des from the edge just with words because he just Gets It, and he'd kidnap des for some real peace of mind in his own way

Daniel:

I imagine daniel likes to act aloof and uncaring, but catching des in that headspace, so close to the edge of a roof would terrify him! he doesn't do well with feeling helpless and is definitely the type to tackle first, ask questions later. lots of furious, desperate yelling, shaking, what the fuck was that?! and after they'd both calmed down, he'd drag des to get some REAL sleep (under his watch) and tell William to go fuck himself and put himself in charge of des from that point on. he understands the stakes, but he can't imagine des losing his mind or offing himself is part of some Grand Plan

AAAAAAAA and thank you for the step by step feedback! <333 I'm hoping to post more, obviously, since we have SO FAR to go in the fic, but we'll see how this year treats me!

[deeplyrottenworld]

"when ur close to me..." -Gorillaz

[heybiji]

dandelion's clothes are always either too big or too small for him (because he steals them)

[blurrygreyarts]

funny fashion friends

[personalindustry]

leon…

[industriallee]

stupids

[sockibean]

Champion of Galar 👑💕

[temtamtom]

Please ignore the fact I accidentally posted this and then deleted it okay anyways

These two have had a myriad of personal conflicts over the years. They had a difficult relationship as children and then spent the rest of their adolescence and early adulthood separately. They interacted, of course, and they saw each other as brothers, but that was it. We are related by blood, but I don’t see you as FAMILY family. If that makes sense. But if I had to pick their biggest fight, it would be:

Tl;Dr: Emotions were running high and unchecked after Italian unification, leading to a blow-out fight when Romano announced that he was moving to America for a little while.

I need to provide some context and explain my headcanons, so this might be a long one kjdfgk I hope it makes sense! Also, a warning because my Feli isn't all that canon-compliant ;; but I think he's a bit more accurate to the northern attitudes of the time

There's a common headcanon within the fandom that Romano was entirely against unification and resisted it from the start. I think this is a bit of an inaccurate and an over-simplified perspective. By the early and mid 1800s, there were many instances of uprisings against absolutism in Southern Italy, which strove for more liberal ideals. The revolutionaries wanted a constitutional monarchy, or even a republic. Through their uprisings and the creation of a secret, revolutionary network across the peninsula, revolutionary ideals began to spread throughout and inspire others.

This is of course a gross oversimplification of the history, but I’m bringing this all up to illustrate the idea that Romano was starting to grow tired of the “status quo”, and was desperate for a change. Unification wasn’t necessarily what he had in mind at first, especially when we consider that he and Feliciano were pretty distant at this point in time. However he soon got swept up in the fervor and optimism of the patriots, and he began to believe in their vision. He believed in a future where he could finally be truly independent- free to call the shots and live his life freely without the worry of being tossed around and claimed by other European powers. He believed in a future where, maybe, he could have a family again. To fix what was broken between him and Feliciano. Romano may come across as quite crude, but he’s a very passionate man. Someone who loves and craves so deeply, to the point where his heart/imagination can far outrun him.

So imagine the betrayal felt when he realized that unification wasn’t working in his favour. He was practically discarded, and seen as “lesser than” his northern brother. His brother, who treated him as an oddity, and had an air of moral superiority over Romano. They kept each other at arm's length, as though they were roommates forced to endure the other, rather than two brothers sharing a home. Disillusioned and hurt, Romano felt like a fool for believing in a dream that didn’t come true. 

Feliciano struggled with many emotional grievances, which Romano wasn’t privy to. He lost his long-time husband/partner just a few decades prior, and instead of taking the time to confront the grief, he picked himself back up and turned his attention towards independence and unification. He threw himself head first into uprisings, wars, political negotiations, and rallies- all to achieve this patriotic goal of forming “Italy”, and perhaps to distract himself from the loss (though he won’t admit it). He also thought, maybe foolishly, that his life would get better after unifying with his brother. That he would have a family again, that he wouldn’t feel so alone, that he would love and be loved and they could hold hands and skip happily into a field of sunshine and rainbows and everything would be okay– 

What should have brought them together, they both realized, seemed to drive a deeper wedge between them. The reality was that they were incompatible. They couldn’t stand each other. To Feliciano, Romano was nothing but an uncivilized brute who only complained and never wanted to work, and lived to insult him every day. To Romano, Feliciano was a pompous, stuck-up elite asshole who refused to acknowledge the very real pain and disillusionment of his new, southern citizens. Both brothers felt as though everything- all the blood, sweat, and tears- was just a massive waste.

As you can imagine, it was a VERY tense and unhappy household for many reasons. They began to argue. A LOT. Fights that were far uglier than the scraps they had as children. It got to a point where they couldn’t even stand to be in the same room as each other.

It all came to a head, however, when Romano announced that he was leaving. He had his motives, reasonable ones too, but Feliciano didn’t see that. All he saw was his no-good, lazy brother abandoning him and their country after all the effort they put into creating it, leaving him with all the stress and work while he galavants off to America. This was the straw that broke the camel’s back. The announcement devolved into an explosive fight. Things were said that, to this day, haven’t been fully forgiven. With all the anger and tension, they probably threw in a few good punches as well. Romano eventually left, and Feliciano thought to himself “Good riddance”. However as time wore on, they couldn’t help but think about the other, wonder how they were doing, and reflect on how they parted ways. 

Things were still a bit tense when Romano returned, and they didn’t acknowledge the fight for a while. However, they began putting a bit more effort into rekindling their relationship. It took some time, and it wasn’t an easy journey, but they’re in a much healthier place now than before. They’re glued at the hip, they share everything, they know every little quirk and detail about the other, and they’ve begun to love each other as family (though teasing and head-butting is a common occurrence). 

If you asked them back then if they would go through unification, they would be incredibly iffy. But if you asked them now, they would likely say yes. They wouldn't trade their brother for anything in the world.

[boobachu]

Man the animators really put their whole pussy into animating the final battle

God when the theme song came on it was seismic.

Really

[mozarika]

Dandadan today’s manga panel out of context

[espurrdotmp3]

IM UR NUMBER 1

[the-golden-viper-of-dorne]

Elia week 2024,

Elia and her nieces

@eliamartellappreciation @eliaweek @asoiafwomensource @1nsaankahanhai-bkr @elia-martell-creative-fest @saltywinteradult @forcesmuggler

[galacticghoste]

Heres some old Sonic Ocs that I never got around to posting so ill just post them now.

[heybiji]

His hand hovers over the hilt of his dagger...

Dandelion was about to kill an enemy drow who was tied down and defenseless, but hearing his party member's voice caught his attention first. Dande's also in a bit of a confused haze, having cast a new spell by accident (Hunger of Hadar) that plunged the enemies and himself into a freezing, eldritch darkness full of whispers, acid tongues, and the grazing of teeth, which reminded him a lot of being home. He may have thought it was his mother...

[tommarvoloriddlesdiary]

Trick or treat :kek:

i wanted to give you a trick, but that felt too mean 😂 you only deserve treats too, dande 😌 (again - boldly declaring that my writing is a treat, how dare i)

-

The first time Voldemort realises he is preoccupied by Harry Potter, he dismisses it as a temporary obsession, an effect of the prophecy’s weight hanging over them both. He reasons that it is only natural to feel that connection, that persistent pull of fate that entwines them. But over time, he finds himself lingering on details that have nothing to do with power, prophecy, or survival.

He notices the way Harry stands, shoulders squared as if ready to take on the entire world with that endless courage. The way he meets Voldemort’s eyes with a gaze that burns with conviction and resentment—a fire even the Dark Lord can appreciate. He observes the shadows under Harry’s eyes, the exhaustion and strain he hides with an almost maddening determination.

At night, when silence blankets his surroundings and the shadows seem to close in, Voldemort entertains himself by wondering how such a fragile-seeming figure holds such relentless strength.

It’s during these quiet moments that Voldemort’s imaginations tend to run wild… and he, in turn, tends to run indulgent.

“Imagine,” he murmurs into the near-darkness, voice barely a whisper of parseltongue. He is alone in his chambers, with nothing but the faint crackle of the dying fireplace to answer him. “Imagine the boy at your side.”

He lets himself imagine the scene vividly. Harry, fierce as always, beside him, eyes blazing but no longer with hatred. No, Harry looks at him with something akin to loyalty—devotion, perhaps. And Voldemort moulds him, sharpens that unyielding spirit, wields him like a blade against anyone who dares oppose him. 

It is, of course, impossible. The boy has proven his defiance time and again, but imagining a world where Harry Potter is his… It’s a delightfully twisted pleasure.

He can see flashes of it when he duels with Harry. He lets their spells clash longer than necessary, twisting his wand in complex arcs to draw out their exchanges. Voldemort always casts his most elegant spells, feeling a shiver of satisfaction when Harry blocks them, though he never holds back enough to allow any real advantage.

They have circled each other, surrounded by the acrid smell of scorched earth and smoke, and Voldemort can see it—the gleam of fire in Harry’s eyes that seems almost respectful, if only for Voldemort’s sheer skill. Perhaps one day, he has thought, as his fingers twist around his wand. One day he will see reason. One day he will recognise his proper place.

Voldemort’s lips curve into a slow, almost serene smile as the firelight casts strange shadows across his features. He knows it is madness to indulge in such thoughts, but he allows it, and the fantasies bloom in his mind. After all, he is a master of bending the world to his will. He would take Harry’s resistance, his fire, his drive—and once he had them if he could just turn them inward, redirect them toward his cause…

“Yes,” he hisses softly, a strange kind of longing in his voice. “Yes, I could make him see.”

And in his fantasies, Harry does see. Voldemort imagines the boy on his knees, not in defeat but in reverence, with that same fierce loyalty that he always displays toward those he loves. Only now, that loyalty is directed at him. Yes, in his mind, Voldemort can feel the heat of Harry’s presence beside him, a flame he can waiver but never fully extinguish—and for reasons he can’t quite explain, he doesn’t want to extinguish it. He wants it close, flaring bright, a fiendfyre only he can command… Voldemort knows it is perverse to entertain such a vision, but he can’t deny its allure.

So it’s nights like this, quiet and still, that Voldemort finds himself in fits of whimsy. Obscene behaviour he will never admit to—a summoned bit of parchment and his bent form drafting a letter—a message to Harry. He imagines himself delivering it with a trace of charm, that magnetic charisma he’d once wielded as Tom Riddle. The letter itself is a promise. A darkly tempting offer that whispers of power and knowledge surpassing anything Harry can imagine. Join me, it murmurs from his writing desk, and I will show you things beyond even your boldest dreams.

And as the sun creeps up, joining the dead, undead, and deeply asleep, Voldemort holds the letter before the dying embers of the fireplace and watches blankly as it catches alight. He burns it, scoffing at his own foolishness.

One day, he tells himself as he stalks the halls of Malfoy Manor, irritation under his skin from another fitfully restless night. One day he will either have Harry by his side—willingly or not—or he will be rid of this strange obsession. But until then, he allows himself the indulgence of these fantasies, of a loyalty untainted by fear and of a fire that burns for him alone.

And the next night, in the silence of his dark chambers, with only shadows to witness, when he finds himself with imaginations that tend to run wild… he finds himself waiting—waiting for the day when Harry Potter will be his.

-

(fin...?)