liviethewriter

[liviethewriter]

What in the world is “The Turncoat”?

“The Turncoat” is a story I’m writing about Reich Müller, a man forced into military service with the Nazis. The story primarily follows him, a Russian Rebel known as Dimitri Bychkov, and a young Scottish girl known as Gretchen Thomson as they travel the world in search of the four pieces of Hitler’s soul. They learn that in order to killer Hitler and put the world back the way it was, they have to reconnect Hitler with all four peices of his soul. Along the way, they’ll ecounter allies such as Luren Williams, enemies such as Risen soldiers, and questionable people claiming to be allies. 

If y’all want more, go ahead and ask or check out my page on “The Turncoat”.

[liviethewriter]

A Gentle Caress  || Darim x Fem!Reader || Part 1/?

Type: Series

Requester: None

Warnings: Fear of Abuse

Note: This pretty man does NOT get the attention he deserves. I swear. So, here we go on this trainwreck of a series with Darim Ibn-La’Ahad. Many of the instruments in this are from the band The HU. Look them up. They’re friggin awesome. I apologize for any incorrect mistranslations of Arabic to English. Google Translate was used. The Assassin’s Creed franchise is not mine, and rights to it go to Ubisoft. You are your own person. The only thing that is mine is the fanfiction itself. Enjoy! -Livie

Laughter echoed through the halls of the inn. Drunkards and simply merry men joked with each other, clinking their tankards together as barmaids floated around the room, offering drinks. It was muffled from Altaïr and Maria’s room, where they were getting ready for bed. The family, along with their son, were on their way back to Masyaf. Maria had noticed that their son had not come to bed. She looked a little concerned, looking to her husband. 

“Altaïr, where’s Darim? He said he’d let us know when he returned from outside,” Maria asked, inquisitive. 

Altaïr considered her question. Darim had wanted a breath of fresh air, feeling that the inn was much too stuffy. So, what was taking him so long? “I do not know, Maria. Should I go to look for him?” 

“Not yet. I’m sure he’s just a bit troubled by all that’s happened as of late.” Maria knew all too well that Altaïr knew what she spoke of. The assassination of Genghis Kahn. Though Darim hid it well, Maria suspected that her son was haunted by Kahn’s last words. She had been the same way when she first took a life. 

In fact, Darim was quite unbothered by it. He knew Kahn was a horrible man - no, he wasn’t even that - that needed to be put down. The young man was just watching a feminine figure move around the dancers outside. Someone was playing a merry tune on a Morin Khuur, which was a two-stringed instrument that sounded like a violin or a cello from Northern, Western, and Central Europe. 

This young woman looked so out of her element. She was wearing thin clothing that was more attuned to the Middle East than the cold, rolling hills of Western Mongolia. She only had a short curved blade on her hip, and a satchel of various items, but her boots were dusty and well-worn. She’d traveled far and on-foot. 

There was a haunted look in her eyes. She was scared even though her outer demeanor was a kind but weary traveler. Why was she scared, Darim wondered. She intrigued the young Assassin as he watched her with inquisitive eyes. 

Normally, he would’ve sat somewhere or followed her, but he actually wanted to speak to this beautiful creature and get to know her better. He stood up from where he’d been leaning on a tree. Keeping his eyes on her, he carefully maneuvered himself through the merry throng of people. He was a big man, so the crowd easily parted for him. 

The woman wasn’t paying attention to where she was going. She kept looking over her shoulder warily, her eyes wide and attentive despite their exhaustion. Darim averted his eyes, watching as a few children ran around his legs. Their giggling and quick actions distracted him. He watched as they ran off. He smiled gently. 

Darim grunted a little, feeling someone collide with his side. He nearly stumbled but caught himself. The woman had picked up the pace, feeling exposed in the open air, and had broken through the group of people only to slam into Darim’s side and get knocked back onto her bottom. 

The assassin looked surprised. He crouched down next to her, frowning now. He hadn’t meant to do such a thing. The woman looked up at Darim, her beautiful e/c irises shimmering. 

Darim was quiet as he asked, “Are you alright, aleaziz? (dear?)” 

The woman was about to answer, her body recovering from the fall. But she was captivated by Darim’s bright blue-green eyes. They were like the Red Sea on a bright, sunny day. How ironic. But those pools of shining blue-green, filled with concern and curiosity at the same time made her pause. 

How? 

The woman then realized that this man was patiently waiting for an answer. She swallowed the lump in her throat, shaking her head and averting her gaze from those beautiful blue-green hues. Her heart clenched in her chest. “Yes… Yes, I’m quite alright.” 

Darim could tell that she was lying. As an assassin, he’d been trained to read people. So he could tell from the way she looked away and shook her head as she spoke those words that this poor woman was not alright. She was scared and in trouble. But from what? 

Darim gave her a sympathetic smile and offered his hand to help her up. The woman flinched at the approach of his hand, clenching her eyes shut. The assassin froze, his eyes widening. Had she been afraid that he’d hit her? If so, what had happened to this woman that she’d been afraid of someone hitting her? 

Darim’s face softened again before saying, “Here, let me help you up.” 

The woman opened her eyes, looking up at the assassin before her. He hadn’t hit her. But she still didn’t trust him. Gingerly, she slid her hand into his gloved grasp. His grip was benign but firm as he stood up straight, pulling her up with him. 

The woman brushed herself off, letting go of Darim’s hand. “Thanks,” she said as she swept away the dirt on her behind. She then looked at Darim, his kind blue-green eyes still filled with concern. She went on the defensive, seeing his look. 

“What? Why’re you looking at me like that?” She snapped, frowning deeply at him. She didn’t want to be mean or rude. But she didn’t want to form any bonds, especially considering her last connection with anyone. 

Darim flinched a little at her sharp tone. But he stood his ground, not willing to be so easily put off. “Are you sure you’re alright? You look scared of something, and you just ran into me.” 

The woman looked away, biting her lip and closing her eyes for a second before opening her eyes. “Yes, I’m fine.” 

Darim knew she was lying again but didn’t press it. He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. The assassin nodded. He suddenly felt the exhaustion throbbing in his calves, thighs, and biceps. “Alright… Well, I’m going to bed. Good night, sayidati. (madam.)” 

The woman blinked, looking at him. Darim gave her a kind smile before stepping around her and beginning to walk back towards the inn. The woman then realized why she was so entranced by those beautiful pools of blue-green. She found that she felt she could trust him. Eyes were the one thing that didn’t lie. A sense of smell may pick up the scent of something sweet only for the smell to be poisonous. Soft, coarse fur could very well belong to a gentle herd dog. Or a starving tiger. Soft singing could belong to ravenous sirens or succubi. The taste of tender, succulent food could very well be dangerous, toxic food. 

But eyes… They didn’t lie. At least not to a perfectly sane person. And this woman was mostly sane.

She might get killed for this decision later on, but she quickly followed Darim, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Wait!”

Darim was surprised, looking back at her. He turned towards her, seeing the sudden nervousness scrawled onto her face. She swallowed hard before saying, “I… I’m sorry. I was rude to you and that was entirely uncalled for. Please, forgive me.” 

The assassin smiled gently at her, a look that the woman couldn’t decipher dancing in his understanding orbs. “There’s nothing to forgive. Yes, you were rude, but it doesn’t really matter much if I wasn’t offended in the first place.” 

Darim chuckled softly as the woman’s face twisted into one of pleasant surprise. She couldn’t trust anyone, nor rely on anyone’s kindness, but this man in front of her… He had a sense of peace and safety around him. She liked it. A tiny bit of trust slipped into her mind and heart.

“What’s your name?” The woman asked inquisitively, thinking it wise to know his name. 

“I am Darim Ibn-La’Ahad,” Darim said and offered a sweet smile. 

The woman cocked her head to the side, studying his face. “Darim,” she murmured, putting a name to a face. A wonderful name for a handsome face, she thought. But almost instantly, she mentally slapped herself out of such a line of thought. He probably wasn’t even interested in her anyway. Not only that, but it’d be hard to earn her trust completely. She knew all too well that the kindest of people could be snakes in disguise.

“My name’s Y/N,” the woman said, her e/c pools shimmering in the faint light from the hanging lantern jutting out from the inn wall. 

TO BE CONTINUED

[liviethewriter]

I have been vibing to the Abba Gold album since 5:30 this morning, and it’s 8:11 a.m. at the moment. It’s become obvious I either need therapy or just need to go back to sleep.

[liviethewriter]

Light || Altaïr x Reader

Fandom: Assassin’s Creed Type: Oneshot Requester: None Warnings: Fluff, Minor Violence, Minor Swearing Note: Look. I’m gonna say it. I would PAY to see Altaïr blushing. His grin gives me nightmares, but a little smile would be accepted. (Seriously, don’t look it up unless you want to be mortified.) Anywho, the Assassin’s Creed franchise is not mine, and rights to it go to Ubisoft. You are your own person. The only thing that is mine is the fan fiction itself. Enjoy! -Livie

Altaïr grit his teeth in frustration. The usually stoic, calm Assassin would not get this jealous, this frustrated, this angered, if there weren’t something terribly wrong. Which, there was. 

It was a peaceful morning in Masyaf, the fortress alive and practically teeming with life. Birds roosted over their eggs, in their hidden nests among the battlements of Masyaf Castle. Guards walked the walls, their piercing gazes watching the mountains around them. Novices trained in the courtyard below, their superiors either watching them or helping them brush up on their skills.

Except for one. Altaïr looked sour as he watched a certain figure teaching a few novices how to properly slash at a target without completely exposing your weak points. She was awe-strikingly beautiful with bright eyes and hair that had been pulled back into a loose ponytail. Her hood was down, showing off her adorable features. 

Yes, he secretly had a fondness for Y/N. How could he not? She was perfect in his eyes, with her smiles and soothing voice. Of course, he didn’t dare voice his liking of her, feeling that it was inviting weakness. But the way that one damned novice stared at her oh-so-lovingly…

It made Altaïr’s blood boil. 

As Y/N watched the novices begin training together, she stole a glance towards Altaïr and flinched to find him glaring at her with all the hatred of the world… or so it seemed. Unsettled and a little nervous, she looked back to her novices. She’d been born into the brotherhood and had initially been taught to act like a boy so she wouldn’t be removed from the safety of the ranks of the Assassins. But when some of the Assassins discovered her secret when she was a teen, she’d been terrified that they would kill her. Instead, she’d been allowed to stay and help out their cause, as she’d proven herself beforehand that she was an irreplaceable member.

Altaïr grew even angrier - at himself because he didn’t have the family jewels to go confess his liking of Y/N - as the novice that had been giving Y/N goo-goo eyes approached her, looking hopeful. 

“Y/N, will you train with me, please?” The novice smiled up at her hopefully. Many of the novices knew to simply call Y/N by her first name as they knew she disliked being called a title of any sort. 

Y/N smiled at the novice. “Of course, Roei. I don’t mind.”

Altaïr closed his eyes, willing away any unwanted images with gritted teeth. “You look pissed, novice.” 

Altaïr’s eyes flicked open, and he looked at Malik who had come to Masyaf for a meeting with Al Mualim. A hard look was on the one-armed man, his brows furrowed and his lips pressed tightly together. But there was a look in his eyes that questioned something. “Care to explain?” Malik asked and arched a brow.

Altaïr looked away, back at Y/N who was skillfully slashing and stabbing. “Her,” he answered simply, his voice tight. He knew that if he said anything more, he’d end up ranting and rambling.

But of course, Malik just had to say, “That’s not really explaining, Altaïr.” 

The Assassin turned on his toe, grabbing Malik and pulling him into the castle and into a quiet, private room. It wasn’t until Malik shut the door that Altaïr began his rant. “Y/N! She vexes me with her very existence. I find her incredibly attractive and adorable, but what the hell am I supposed to do about it, Malik? Every other Assassin in the Brotherhood finds her beautiful as I do, but there’s a novice out there who’s got more balls than me and is probably asking her out on a date right now!”

Malik watched as the frustrated Altaïr kicked a stone column as hard he could, his anger numbing the pain of his toes that would probably be bruised tomorrow morning. After the enraged man let off some of his steam, Malik calmly said, “Tell her how you feel, Altaïr. But don’t make it sound stereotypical or needy. Make it sound like there’s actual emotion there, whether it be passionate or gentle. Bring her some flowers or kiss her cheek. Be yourself.” 

Altaïr looked at Malik, arching a brow. “Why do I get the feeling that you’ve done something like this before?” 

“Because I have,” Malik answered bluntly, rolling his eyes. “Take her to the garden behind the castle if you must. I need to get back to Jerusalem, now. Good luck.” 

And with that, Malik left, muttering a ‘safety and peace, novice’ as he departed. Altaïr considered Malik’s words, his golden irises looking at his hands. Trying to put the flirtatious novice out of his mind, he sighed. 

Squaring his shoulders, he left the castle and went out to the courtyard, beginning to formulate his little plans to ask Y/N out. The two of them had been friends since childhood, and it perplexed a lot of people how a cold man such as Altaïr could be friends with her, a kind and sweet individual. 

Roei was getting better by the second as he crossed swords with Y/N once again. He was grinning mischievously. He intended to get close to her and plant a kiss on her slightly-chapped warm lips, a perfect ‘stolen kiss’ move. He was beginning to get closer to her when he noticed Altaïr watching. The novice smirked. Perhaps he could mark Y/N as off-limits…

The other novices in Y/N’s group laughed as Y/N knocked Roei back onto his bottom. Altaïr smiled a little, a spark of satisfaction igniting in his eyes. Y/N cocked her brow at Roei, saying, “Either you focus, or you can get back to training with the others.”

Roei swallowed hard but nodded. He got to his feet, getting into a defensive position. Y/N seemed to be sizing him up when she heard approaching footsteps. She looked to her left and grinned, seeing Altaïr approaching. His hood was up, the shadows hiding the slight anxiety in his eyes. 

“Hey, Altaïr!” Y/N greeted him cheerfully. But that cheerfulness quickly turned to visible confusion when Altaïr didn’t stop walking towards her. 

The Assassin stopped awfully close to Y/N, leaning down a little. He made sure his lips brushed her cheek as he said quietly, “Meet me at my room at sunset, Y/N. I’ll be waiting.” 

Y/N looked up at Altaïr, her eyes wide. Her face had flushed into a light pink. But she smiled a little, nodding. “Okay,” she replied.. 

Roei felt a dark emotion rear its head in his chest. He growled lowly, letting his heart get the better of him. As Altaïr began to walk away, the novice grabbed his sleeve. The older man turned to look at Roei, unspoken words on his tongue. 

The other novices looked at Roei and Altaïr with wide eyes, hearing the hard thunk of a fist colliding with a face. Y/N gasped as Altaïr glowered at Roei, his golden irises sharp. His cheek was beginning to purple from the punch Roei had delivered to Altaïr’s face. 

Before she knew it, Y/N was then trying to pull Altaïr away from the potential fight. She had an arm around his torso, tugging a little. “Altaïr. Altaïr, look at me,” she said frantically with wide eyes. 

Altaïr was tensing up, ready to take a swig at the novice when Y/N forced herself between the two. Her hands were flat on Altaïr’s clothed chest, pushing him back lightly, while she urged him to look at her. The other novices moved to grab Roei and pull him back, knowing he too was about to start swinging. 

Altaïr hadn’t broken eye contact with Roei, about to lunge at him. But the feeling of two calloused palms on his face snapped him out of it. He looked down to see Y/N caressing his face and making him look at her. “Calm down, Altaïr. Calm down,” Y/N said quietly, her voice having a little waver in it. 

Altaïr’s gaze softened a little, and his body relaxed ever so slightly. He swallowed hard, reaching up and putting a hand over her own hand. Y/N looked pleased with this gesture. Her beautiful irises were gleaming in the afternoon light. Altaïr felt breathless at the sight. He turned his head, pressing a gentle kiss to Y/N’s palm. 

A faint pink tint dusted Y/N’s face but her smile only grew. She looked back, hearing Roei snap, “Get away from her, jackass.” 

Roei was being held back by a few other novices, the two that were on the sidelines silently urging Altaïr and Y/N to go back inside the castle. Altaïr looked at Y/N, saying, “Actually, on second thought, go on up to my room. I’ll be there shortly.” 

Y/N frowned, worried now. But she nodded. “Alright. Novices, you can continue training with each other or go on inside for some rest and water,” she said, looking at her novices. 

They nodded, murmuring a ‘yes, Y/N’. Y/N looked at Altaïr and said, “Don’t do anything stupid, okay?”

Altaïr dipped his head in acknowledgment, watching as Y/N threw him one last weak smile before beginning to leave the courtyard. She was anxious as she went inside and walked up to Altaïr’s room, passing through a few corridors on the way. Eventually, she found it and sat next to the door. 

Y/N was wringing her wrists, her brows furrowed and her heart pounding loudly. She knew Altaïr had feelings for her, but she didn’t know if they were lust feelings or love feelings. So, she decided to let Altaïr make the first move. She was fairly certain they were lust feelings from the way he wanted to see her at his room instead of just pulling her off to the side. 

She was about to get up and leave so that she could avoid being used as a toy of sorts. But echoing footsteps gave her pause. She looked down the hall and stood up, seeing Altaïr. His cheek really was bruised up from where Roei had punched him. However, despite the bruise, Altaïr was smiling ever so slightly in satisfaction. 

Y/N frowned at him, her eyes searching his. Altaïr quickly recognized that she was trying to understand why he asked her here. “Look, Y/N… Hear me out, will you?” 

Y/N was hesitant but bit her lip and nodded. She’d known Altaïr for years. That was reason enough to give him a chance. 

The man in question sighed softly in relief. “Look, Y/N, I’ve loved you for a long time. And, not in the lust way. As in, I love your personality, your smile, your cheerful attitude… I love all of you. And I get jealous whenever you talk to someone who is obviously flirting with you. That’s why I got so pissed at Roei that I worked up the nerve to finally ask you this.” 

Y/N’s eyes were wide as Altaïr pushed his hood down, revealing his short dark brown hair and gleaming golden brown eyes. The scar on his face was prominent, his slightly chapped lips drawn taut and pressed thin. He had a faint bit of stubble coming in, Y/N noticed. But she focused on Altaïr’s words as he said, “Will you be mine, Y/N?” 

Though he hid it well, Y/N knew he was scared. She knew he’d never admit it either. But she could tell his emotions from simply looking at his body language and hearing his voice. 

Altaïr froze, seeing Y/N reach up. Her fingertips gently traced his scar. She was nervous, too. But her breath hitched when her thumb brushed his lips, her eyes on his mouth. Altaïr nearly felt his heart stop but didn’t move. Anyone else would’ve been punched right in the mouth, but Y/N was a different case altogether. 

Y/N looked up at Altaïr before her hand slid up to caress the side of his face. The slightest tug was all the encouragement Altaïr needed. Y/N pulled him down gently, pressing her lips to Altaïr’s softly. Y/N’s cheeks were flushed pink, and she wasn’t the only one flustered. Her eyes were closed and she was missing something incredibly precious. Altaïr had the faintest tint of pink on his face, something that was almost as elusive as Malik’s soft side. 

One soft, gentle kiss turned into two, then three, and more kisses that were quickly becoming needier and fervent. Until Altaïr reached up, gripping Y/N’s hips in a vice-like grip, pushing her against the wall. Y/N broke the umpteenth kiss, her lips slightly swollen from the amount of contact they were getting. 

Altaïr’s breathing was off and shaky, but it was welcome. He reached up, brushing some hair away from her face. Y/N grinned up at Altaïr as he said with a small smirk, “I’m assuming that was a yes.” 

It was more of a statement than a question. Y/N’s grin died down a little as Altaïr kissed her again. He pulled her into his arms, a crack of an affectionate simper breaking onto his face at the feeling of her face being nestled into the crook of his neck. She’d put her arms around him, feeling safe in his arms. 

Altaïr closed his eyes. He decided right there and then that he never wanted to be alone again. He didn’t want to be without Y/N, the woman he’d loved dearly. She was his light. And his alone.

[liviethewriter]

Nightmares || Ezio x Reader

Fandom: Assassin’s Creed Type: Oneshot Requester: None Warnings: Fluff, Italian Swearing, Minor Violence, SPOILERS for Assassin’s Creed 2 Note: You gotta admit, the expressions in a lot of Assassin’s Creed games are just simply great. For example, Ezio’s expression in AC2 when his mother said, “Still recovering from last night?” And almost instantly, he feints surprise, like, “Uh, no idea what you’re talking about…” I’m laughing just thinking about it! Also, I wish to apologize for any incorrect translations. My first language is English, and I can speak some basic Japanese. Google Translate was bullied here.  Anywho, the Assassin’s Creed franchise is not mine, and rights to it go to Ubisoft. You are your own person. The only thing that is mine is the fan fiction itself. Enjoy! -Livie

All was quiet in the halls of the Villa Auditore. Moonlight spilled through the windows of the villa, illuminating the rooms it could get into. The inhabitants were sound asleep, save for one soul. A woman by the name of Y/N. 

Y/N was a traveling bookbinder, a book doctor of sorts. Most men did this job, but she was one of the few women who mended old books and bound new manuscripts together. Women were especially good at this, mainly because of their ability to skillfully use a needle with thread. Y/N loved books and her services were fairly priced. On top of that, she was pretty friendly to many clientele. 

Y/N was a close friend to Giovanni Auditore, a banker of Firenze. He had many documents and files, and she traveled through Firenze frequently. Whenever she was in town, he’d have her weave some of the books together and always paid her full price for her services. He even let her stay with his family for a few days if she were weary of travel. 

Thus, Y/N became a close friend to the Auditore family. Maria, the mother, was approving of her choice of profession, as most women around this time period flocked to a brothel or began displaying their cleavage in hopes of hooking a husband on the streets. Fredrico seemed to like her, as a friend of course. He was already promised to another woman, and she was not too keen on making enemies. Petruccio avoided Y/N, though she never understood whether it was because he was shy or if he was disliking of her. Y/N and Claudia got along fairly well, and the bookbinder often gave her advice about Duccio. She was especially upset when she found out that he was being unfaithful. 

It was the middle son, Ezio, that vexed Y/N the most. She never got too close to him, knowing he was with another woman by the name of Cristina Vespucci. But Ezio was always quick to throw Y/N that adorable, cocky grin of his. She could never tell if he was trying to flirt with her, or if he was trying to make her lighten up. He loved spending time with her. Whenever Ezio wasn’t running errands for his family or doing chores (or other unmentionable things), he was spending time with Y/N, grinning and joking around with her. 

But then the Auditore family ran into trouble. Y/N didn’t even know about it until she was passing through Firenze on a supply run, and she heard a passerby say, “I can’t believe it. Who’d have thought the Auditore family…? Mio Dio (My God).” 

Y/N felt her stomach hollow, and she grabbed the man by the shoulder and said, “Wait, what happened?” 

“You didn’t hear?” The man looked surprised. “Giovanni, Fredrico, and Petruccio Auditore da Firenze were hung yesterday for treason and conspiracy to murder.” 

Y/N let him go as he shrugged and walked away. Stumbling to an alleyway, she threw up, shaking. Giovanni and two of his sons were dead? Mio Dio, indeed. Feeling unsteady on her legs, she wiped at her mouth. Then what did that mean for Maria, Claudia, and Ezio? Were they all alright? Were they running? Did they escape? So little time, so many questions. 

And so began her search for the remanents of the Auditore family. 

Y/N didn’t find them until several months later at Villa Auditore, in Monteriggioni. She had stopped there for a few supplies. She was looking around some of the stalls for flasks and food when suddenly she was grabbed from behind and dragged into a nearby alleyway. 

Y/N struggled, about to bite the hand over her mouth. But she was suddenly turned around and met with a pair of familiar brown eyes, glittering happily in the dimness of the alleyway. The fire in her eyes quickly dissipated, recognizing the face in front of her. He had aged a bit since she had last met him, dark brown stubble lining his jaw and amplifying his handsome appearance. Y/N was definitely attracted to Ezio. 

The Auditore Assassin grinned at her. “Y/N! Mio Dio, look at you!” 

She grinned right back at him, hugging him around the neck. “Ezio!” 

Ezio laughed a little and hugged her right back, his strong embrace nearly crushing her. A surprised squeak from Y/N was all it took for him to let her go and hold her at arm’s length. “Where have you been?” Y/N asked excitedly. 

“Here. There. Everywhere,” Ezio shrugged, chuckling softly as he cocked a brow at her. 

Y/N shook her head, smiling a little. “That’s so like you, to be vague,” she commented, to which Ezio proceeded to pretend to be surprised. 

“Bellissima (Gorgeous), what ever do you mean?” Ezio asked, a hand lying across his heart. 

Y/N laughed and he grinned, chuckling along with you. Putting an arm around her, he said, “Venire (Come), Mother and Claudia will want to see you.” 

Excited at the prospect to see the Auditore family she had been searching for so long, Y/N happily went with him. As the two of them exited the alleyway, Y/N noticed the white armored outfit he was wearing. It wasn’t exactly what she’d expect Ezio to wear. No one seemed to be bothered by its peculiar style. In fact, they seemed to welcome Ezio, greeting him happily. 

A group of girls giggled and flaunted themselves invitingly as the two passed by and a dark feeling curdled in the pit of her stomach. With a stab of shock, Y/N realized the feeling was jealousy. Why was she jealous of a few brothel-born women who wore clothing that left little to the imagination? 

It definitely had something to do with the fact that she had Ezio by her side. Or maybe it had something to do with the fact that he interested her. In more ways than one. 

Curious, Y/N then decided to ask it. “So… how’re you and Cristina?” 

Ezio knew she had to have some reason for asking about his former girlfriend. With his free hand, he rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, we’re no longer a couple, if that’s what you’re asking.” 

Y/N widened her eyes, flabbergasted. “Wha-! What happened?”

Ezio looked at her, seeming a little upset. “Well, after my father and brothers… you know, I took my mother and sister here. We were about to leave for a ship to Spain, but my Uncle Mario convinced me to stay here. Since Cristina did not know if I would return or not, her father betrothed her to another man. I did nothing as I knew her father did not like me. And I did not want Cristina to be called an unfaithful puttana (whore). So…” 

Y/N frowned sympathetically. “Oh… I’m sorry, Ezio.” 

“No, non scusarti. (No, don’t apologize.) After all, I think Cristina will be happier with him.” Ezio looked forward, sighing a little as the tips of his hair brushed his cheekbones. 

Y/N always thought he had handsome features, but with the dark brown facial hair coming in, she thought he looked absolutely gorgeous. 

“Mio dolce (My sweet), you’re staring,” Ezio teased, a playful little smirking gracing his features as he looked at her from the corner of his eye. 

A light pink dusted YN’s face as she sharply looked forward, tense. Ezio laughed heartily, his brown eyes glittering in amusement. Y/N shook her head, huffing. 

Only then did she notice that they were going to the large villa ahead. Y/N went bug-eyed. “No way,” she mumbled in amazement. 

Ezio chuckled as the two reached the top of the stairs leading to the front yard. He guided her inside, grinning. “Y/N, welcome to Villa Auditore!” 

Y/N was stunned by the beauty of the recently restored Villa. It was exquisite outside. But inside was absolutely beautiful. “Stunning, sì (yes)?” Ezio asked, standing by the door as she looked around in wonder.

Y/N looked at Ezio, smiling. She was at a loss for words, so she merely nodded. 

“I can think of a few other things that are twice as stunning. One of which is smiling right at me,” Ezio chuckled at his obvious flirt. 

He looked fairly amused as the heat rushed to Y/N’s face and she looked away. 

~~~

And now here she was. It must’ve been close to midnight. Y/N was shaking, terrified. She had just woken from a gruesome nightmare that’d both horrified her and made her cry softly. 

It’d been Ezio on the gallows, not his father and brothers. She’d woken up as his screams for her to run were cut short as the trapdoor let out and the rope was drawn taut. 

Comfort. Y/N wanted comfort. She knew where Ezio’s room was thanks to Claudia giving her a tour of the entire Villa earlier that evening. Claudia had been excited to see her, but Maria was a little… out of it. Y/N had expected her to be in shock like she was. 

Shaking a little, Y/N wrapped her blanket around herself, nibbling on her lower lip as she got out of bed. She was quiet as she quietly walked down the corridors to Ezio’s room. Y/N raised her hand to knock on the door, but she hesitated, unsure if he’d even be in a good mood. 

But Y/N still wanted to be near someone. To have human contact. And she only felt close enough to Ezio to allow herself close like that. Mustering up her courage, she knocked on the door softly, before wiping her red eyes and suppressing a sniffle. 

The thought of the rope creaking as Ezio’s limp body swung from it nearly shook Y/N to tears again, but Ezio opened the door before she could break down crying again. He was only dressed in his dark trousers and a thin, white nightshirt. He instantly took note of her tear-stained face and reddened irritated eyes, and he realized what had happened without her needing to say anything. 

“Oh, amore (love), come here,” he said softly, drawing her into his embrace and cradling her head to his chest. 

Ezio pulled Y/N into the room and closed the door, having a feeling that she didn’t want to be seen in such a state. She was trembling as she held onto Ezio as if he were life itself. The Assassin held her close, kissing the top of her head and whispering sweet nothings to her soothingly.

When he heard a sniffle, he looked down to see Y/N silently crying. She was scared. And knowing this broke the Italian man’s heart a little. He had liked Y/N for quite a long time. But she was always rejecting any flirts from him, knowing he was with Cristina. But with his former girlfriend going to another man, he had no hesitation with being there for Y/N. 

Gathering her up in his arms, Ezio carried her over to the bed and let the frightened woman sit in his lap as he held her close and comforted her. Ezio knew that talking about your nightmares often helped, but he wasn’t sure that talking about a nightmare that scared Y/N this badly would help anyone but the demons haunting her. 

Ezio gently rocked her, still softly whispering in Italian. He would’ve told anyone else to just grow up. But Y/N wasn’t just anyone to him. 

It wasn’t that much longer until Ezio noticed that Y/N’s soft crying had faded to hiccups. He looked down at her, very gently moving some of her hair out of her face. Her eyes were red and irritated even more than before, and her cheeks were wet with salty tears. Her face was flushed red and her lips were moistened. 

Sitting her up a little more, Ezio cupped her cheeks in his hands and drew his thumbs across the still-damp skin. “Guardami, bella… (Look at me, beautiful…)” Ezio said softly, noticing that her eyes were looking down as she attempted to collect her thoughts.

Y/N’s chest lurched a little as she hiccupped again, but she complied and brought her eyes up to meet Ezio’s dark chocolate irises. Ezio’s gaze softened before he closed his eyes and pressed a gentle, chaste kiss to her salty lips, still wet with tears. 

Y/N froze, her eyes widening at the feeling of Ezio’s plush, slightly chapped lips. It was a feeling foreign to her. But it still made her momentarily forget about her fears. Ezio opened his eyes as the kiss ended, and said, “Are you alright now, Y/N?” 

The bookbinder nodded, her eyes a little wide at this point. Ezio nodded as well. “Bene, bene… (Good, good…)” Ezio murmured as he held her close again. 

Y/N didn’t protest as he laid down on the bed, pulling her with him. She snuggled up to him, feeling the warmth seeping through the thin white shirt he was wearing. Ezio smiled fondly at her, affection in his eyes as he pulled his red covers over himself and Y/N. “Ti amo (I love you), Y/N,” Ezio whispered softly. 

He was responded to by Y/N, who said quietly, “Ti amo anch'io (I love you too), Ezio.”

As they returned to the depths of the dream world, Ezio hoped Y/N’s nightmares would not return. He buried his face in her orange scented hair, closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep. 

[liviethewriter]

Melody || Arno Dorian x Reader

Fandom: Assassin’s Creed Type: One Shot  Requester: None Warnings: An Adorable Arno, SPOILERS for Assassin’s Creed: Unity Note: Assassin’s Creed: Unity and its characters do not belong to me. Rights to the game go to Ubisoft who did an excellent job on it. You are your own person. The only thing that belongs to me is the fan fiction. Also, this is my first fan fiction. Why not write one with my favorite assassin? Hope you like it! -Livie

Arno huffed in annoyance as he walked through the Café Théâtre, trying to keep it at a leisurely stroll. He was having a rough day so far, and he looked rather irritable. He’d just gotten back from a mission and had gotten little sleep. On top of that, he had just lost one of his best singers as she had decided to retire with her husband into the countryside. 

Arno was happy for them, but it stressed him out that she was leaving them. So, he thought a little stroll around Paris would help. No. Such. Luck. And, now here he was frustrated and ready to do a leap of faith out onto a bare street. 

He trudged up to his room, passing the occasional staff-member. Upon seeing the steward of the building, they steered clear, recognizing that he most certainly wasn’t in the mood for idle chat in the hall. He strode into his room, shutting the room behind himself and taking a deep breath. 

Elise’s death was still fresh in his mind, though it’d only happened a few months ago. Arno was still troubled by the suddenness of her death. His heart ached every time he thought to go see her, only to remember that she was no longer of this world. 

Feeling empty at the thought of Elise, Arno decided that a little rest would help him relax and get it mind off of the sudden lump in his throat. He undressed down to his trousers and undershirt, his fingers numb as he blinked a little. Taking a deep breath, he laid down on his bed, sinking into the covers comfortably. 

Maybe if he rested his eyes for a little while... 

~~~

Arno grumbled a little, awakening. He sat up in his bed, rubbing his eyes. He was feeling a bit better, but his muscles still felt pretty sore. He had done a lot of fighting on that mission. Of course, he’d just recently resumed his duties among the Brotherhood, so it made sense that he still felt exhausted. Even after a nice long nap. 

Arno was suddenly alert. He knew what had woken him up. 

A melody.

A song. 

A voice. 

Arno widened his eyes, hearing the soft voice singing softly. Their voice sent chills down his back but... in a good way. Curious, the Assassin got to his feet and quietly left his room. He followed their voice, the soft sounds soothing. 

As he entered the main hall, Arno took note of the pale moonlight filtering through the windows and into the empty room. He had not noticed it back in his room, as drowsy as he’d been. So it was well after hours. No one should be in here save for any staff working late. He entered the salon, eyes mistrustfully looking about.

But Arno’s breath caught in his throat seeing... her. She was a lone soul, sitting on the edge of the stage and singing idly but beautifully. Arno blinked a little, eyes wide. She was beautiful and seeming to be perfection incarnate. The way her (e/c) irises flitted around the room in admiration of the interior design of the salon and her coiffed hair framed her elegant face. 

Arno placed a hand over his heart, hoping she couldn’t hear how hard it was pounding. She was... lovely. He was transfixed on her irises, the depth and beautiful color that they were. They were full of emotion as she sang softly. Arno nearly lost himself, transfixed on her eyes and hypnotized by her soft voice. 

He was so lost in the moment that he didn’t notice when her eyes landed on him. 

It was only when her eyes widened in fear that Arno snapped out of his daze and blinked rapidly. The woman squeaked in surprise and fear before quickly scrabbling off of the stage and towards the exit. Arno widened his eyes. 

“Wait, s'il vous plaît (please)!” Arno sped after her, urging his sore muscles into action once more. 

The woman didn’t stop, looking scared as she raced towards the exit. Arno swiftly caught her but didn’t try to force her down as anyone else would’ve done. He merely took a hold on her wrist, keeping her from running. 

“Wait... please,” Arno murmured, his voice soft. 

The woman was shaking, her eyes wide and shoulders drawn taut and close. She had clenched her eyes shut tight, awaiting a beating. 

“I won’t hurt you,” Arno continued softly. “Please, I only wish to speak to you.” 

The woman lost some of the tension in her shoulders as she glanced back Arno, her eyes wide with fright. “You... You aren’t going to kill me for being here after hours...?” 

Arno looked a little surprised. “Kill you for practicing your singing in the perfect spot without an audience? Never, ma chérie (my dear).” He offered a comforting little smile.

The woman still looked a little frightened, but she eased up some, turning to face Arno as he released her wrist. The Assassin smiled warmly at her. “I must say, your singing is exquisitely divine.” 

It was the woman’s turn to look surprised. “Wait... R... Really?” 

Arno nodded, his chocolate colored irises softening. “Your voice captivated me and lured me from my dreams. It led me to find you, a beautiful woman just as beautiful as her voice.” 

The woman blushed softly, her hypnotizing irises looking up at the man. “Thank you... That means a lot.” Then she realized something. “I never quite caught your name?” 

“Arno. Arno Dorian. I’m the steward of this grand place,” Arno said, a proud little smile gracing his features. 

“Y/N... My name is Y/N L/N,” the woman, known as Y/N, smiled softly up at Arno. 

“I... I don’t suppose you’ll be coming back now that I’ve discovered your secret, Chère (Dear) Y/N?” Arno appeared to be disappointed at this prospect. He didn’t want this to be a one time thing. He wanted to hear her voice again, to see her face again. She was the first thing to actually make him feel something genuine other than sorrow and cynicism. 

Y/N giggled a little, grinning. “Of course, I’ll come back, Monsieur Dorian. I’d be delighted to see you again.” 

“Please, just call me Arno.” Arno took her hand, bowing and kissing her knuckles sweetly. 

Y/N felt the blood rush to her cheeks, her gaze locking with Arno’s as he rose to stand to his full height once more. He definitely intrigued her, and she was more than ready to spend more time with him. He was the first kind soul she’d seen in a while. 

“I should probably get going before it gets too late...” Y/N said after a moment, pink tinting her face. 

Arno dipped his head in understanding. “Would you like me to walk you home?”

“No, no... I can handle myself. I’ll be back tomorrow night, Arno. See you then?” Y/N looked hopeful. 

Arno nodded, his brown eyes bright. “Of course,  ma chérie (my dear).” 

Y/N kissed his stubbled cheek before leaving swiftly. Arno felt his face redden a little. Reaching up, his fingers brushed the spot her soft, plush lips had pressed against. He smiled warmly, looking forward to seeing Y/N again tomorrow. He was all too eager to hear her soft melody again.