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Writer's pictureEmma Köpf

Language Swap (Desmond Miles x Reader)

“What should I get for lunch?” You asked the crew after a successful session with the animus. Discovering Ezio’s legacy was tiring for everybody, but somebody had to get food and it was your turn now.

“Whatever you find, just be food…” Rebecca moaned from her desk, practically half asleep.

“I have to agree.” Conceded Shaun, who was still seized by the last bits of incoming data from the animus.

“All right. Desmond?”

“Io non ho fame…”

Everybody stopped for a second. Desmond speaking Italian… how?

“Desmond, please look at me.” You asked the man, as he raised his eyes at you, with heavy bags under them. “You… can speak Italian?”

“No, non posso.” He answered.

“I have no idea what that meant, but I take a guess and say: you do speak Italian.”

“Impossibile.” Desmond laughed a bit, he thought you were just joking with him.

“Must be because of the bleeding effect.” Tore his gaze from the computer Shaun to concentrate on the strange situation.

“Not the stupidest idea I heard.” Added Rebecca.

“But he can’t seem to snap out of it.” Taking your last strands of hope you tried again. “Desmond, speak English!”

“Io parlo inglese!” Desmond stood up in anger, but then swayed a bit, the effect of the animus still lingering in him.

“I give up.” Grabbing the keys you headed to the door. “You two better fix him before I return.”

“Sure.” Rebecca sighed and went to look upon Desmond.


Took a bit of time to find a cheap, but also consumable food so you left for almost an hour. By the time you got back the little apartment seemed peaceful, filled with English chatter.

“I’m here!” You called out.

“What did you get?” Shaun jumped at you right away.

“Nothing until you tell me if Desmond is fixed or not.”

“He is fine. The bleeding effect made him speak like that.”

“I got Chinese.”

“Better than nothing…”

Handing the food to Shaun you stepped to Desmond’s side, who sat atop the Animus.

“How is ‘Little Ezio’?”

“Don’t call me like that.” So he did switch back to his own language.

“I got you food.”

“I told you I’m not hungry.”

“You kidding with me now…”

“No, I’m not.”

“I swear I’m going to dump all of it on your head.”

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