This Is How I Imagine Their Birthdays Going

This is how I imagine their birthdays going

Days 43-45 - I don’t know how to formulate it

This is the third time I’m attempting to write this post because it feels pretentious and unjust talking about that but still, I just have to come out and say it

None of the Modern Day characters trust William Miles enough to let him know what are they trying to do and I believe it’s completely in character.

Briefly, on Shaun and Rebecca - they still have some respect and like a bit of trust in him as a leader, but when faced with the question “do you really want to give William Miles not one but two Isu weapons, one of which can potentially act as the One Ring, and control the others and also comes with a wielder who is a child?” they’ve decided they don’t trust him enough.

Galina is another story. Galina actively resents William (tho she keeps it mostly to herself, rarely expressing her opinion on him) and the only thing that holds her back from going rogue is her loyalty to the cause - she can put her own opinions aside for the common goal. But with Elijah now in the picture, it becomes harder for her to ignore (as she did before) the fact that she blames William for what happened to her family and their cell at large, and she also thinks that his negligence caused (even if inadvertently) the Daniel Cross’ Purge, which makes him a shitty leader in her eyes. It all surfaces in light of her concerns with Elijah’s fate, should William ever learn about his existence. 

(sorry it got rambly, I can’t formulate it properly)

There’s a number of reasons why in all of AC, Bill Miles is that one character that legit makes me angry, but there’re specific two instances, that both have to do with Desmond and both make me go “How THICK can you get, man?!”

One - the way Bill somehow failed explaining the meaning of the Creed to Desmond. The Creed is supposed to be the center of all that an Assassin is, the pillar, holding the entire mindset up. And yet Desmond’s memories in ACR show that Bill just kinda kept repeating the Creed to him, with no further explanation as to what it means. And, as karma would have it, Bill wanted Desmond to live by the Creed and empower himself? Well, he did just that - to an extent he understood the Creed. On that note - does Bill himself understand the meaning of the Creed, or is it just a phrase to him?

Two - the Daniel Cross situation, or, rather, the effect the Great Purge should have had on Desmond.

So, the Great Purge was a result of Templars’ long game of infiltrating the Brotherhood worldwide, learning where the compounds are, and eradicating them, along with killing the Mentor himself. In the end, only a few settlements, never visited by Cross, remained.

As of ACIII, we learn that Desmond knew nothing of Daniel Cross, the Purge, and what went down that year. Nothing. And that shit happened in late 2000, so Desmond was 13, almost 14. Now, please explain to me WHY wouldn’t you tell a teenager about such a tragedy? What is the point of keeping him in the dark, especially considering the training you’re putting him through? Preserving his innocence? Bitch please, what innocence is there, you’re teaching him how to kill! This is bloody WAR, you’ve already made him into a soldier, why are you denying him basic knowledge that might, I dunno, save his life if he ever encounters Cross?  Not to mention that this might have been the 180-turn Desmond needed to understand the gravity of the situation and stay, but hey, any bloody proof could be that.

Actually, I could rant for hours why the way they’ve trained Desmond wasn’t bloody logical, but let’s leave it at that for now. 

🗣 GIRLS ARE AWAY! POST FRANKY CENTAUR! 🗣

15th-century Brotherhood: spends 12 years gently guiding a grown-ass man to understanding their values and goals, letting him absorb all the needed knowledge, before introducing him to the Creed and letting him join the Assassins' ranks.

Modern Brotherhood: why don't we just repeat the Creed over and over to this child without explaining anything, while simultaneously putting him through grueling training? That'll sure help him understand the complex philosophy behind the Creed and not alienate him in the slightest!

// dsmp rp

A No Nuke AU Drabble, feat. Stagedduo

Special thanks to @call-me-apple / @dreamsclock / @carpedzem for the brainrot.

~

“So you’re telling me we’re done?”

Punz’s voice was deliberately steady, deliberately controlled, but the fire in their eyes betrayed them.

Dream was pacing the prison lobby. Distantly, he wondered how much longer it would take to wear grooves into the floor like this, with the mining fatigue. “We’re not done, we’re just… changing objectives.”

Punz raised an eyebrow. “So we’re fucking done.”

“Yes, Punz! We’re done with, like, revival stuff, if that’s what you mean.” Dream thought of obsidian rooms piled high with books, the mad scrawlings of two who were playing at science. They hadn’t moved any of it. They probably never would. “For now.”

Punz stood from the warden’s desk, and when they looked at Dream, he couldn’t be sure they recognized him. A stranger—and a threat.

“So let me get this straight,” they started. “Everything we did, all the things we did, together— you’re saying none of it fucking matters? I waited a fucking year for you, Dream!”

Dream advanced on them. “Oh, wow, that’s— I’m so sorry, that must’ve been so hard for you to like, sit around for a year while I— fucking—”

He cut himself off, taking a controlled breath. “I get it, okay? I know what I— what we sacrificed. It doesn’t change anything.”

“So everything you went through in here was for nothing.”

Dream balled his fists. He started pacing again, quickly, before he punched Punz or a wall.

“It’s not fucking nothing, Punz, how would it be nothing? Like— We learnt a lot, y’know, about revival. That knowledge isn’t gonna magically disappear. Now it’s time to actually put it to use. Start helping the server.”

“Start helping Tommy, you mean.” Punz spat the name like a curse.

“Start helping anyone, Punz! Why is this so hard for you to understand?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you, bro. What did Tommy do to your head? You’ve never, just, given up on something like this before.”

“Aren’t you tired?” For the first time, Dream let himself feel the exhaustion baked into his bones. It had been there for so long that he didn’t remember a time before. Every day, it got worse. “Don’t you miss not having to fight?”

Punz just shook their head. “Dude, you’re fucking delusional.”

“You can’t tell me you don’t! Back when you could actually talk to people, and not just pretend to like them. You had people. Sapnap, Tubbo…”

But Punz couldn’t be listening. Their eyes bore straight through him, as if the mask on his face were made of glass. “You never even gave a shit about me.”

“What?”

“You never cared about what I thought, what I wanted— so don’t act like you do now. You just wanted someone who’d do what you said, whatever random whim you’re on.”

Their eyes narrowed. “I’ll never be your precious fucking Sapnap, or George, or whoever else you’ve decided doesn’t hate you anymore.”

Dream was quiet. He stopped in the center of the room, and something like regret flashed across Punz’s face before being replaced with icy resolve.

“Maybe you’re right,” said Dream. “Maybe I don’t care what you think anymore.” In here, in this moment, the walls were stiflingly close. It was too hot. This place had always been too hot.

“I’m leaving,” he said.

Punz laughed coldly. “You’re leaving? The prison, you mean? Like— Forever?”

Dream shrugged. He didn’t know. There weren’t a lot of things he knew anymore. “Come, or don’t, I don’t care.”

When neither of them spoke, it felt like the ground beneath Dream was giving out. He knew what it was like to be alone; in some ways, it felt safer. But this was something else.

He turned away, climbing down into the makeshift exit tunnel.

“Hey, Dream?” said Punz.

Dream looked up, far too quickly.

“Give me the keys.”

Dream’s stomach sank to his boots. But he retrieved the keycard, and when he tossed it to Punz, it felt like the heaviest thing he had ever held.

He left without a word.