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multi-fandom-imagine · 2 months ago

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Sɑνe ɱe ʄɾσɱ tɦe ɗɑɾƙ || Jacob Frye ||

A/n: Been thinking about this for a while 😩.

Warnings: descriptions of blood, loss life / child death

The night was still and cold, the only sound the soft crackling of the fire in the hearth. Jacob lay in bed beside you, the warmth of the covers wrapped around him, yet sleep refused to be peaceful. His body tensed, muscles tight with an anxiety he couldn’t escape. The shadows seemed to loom larger in the room, and his mind, despite his best efforts to quiet it, was restless.

Jacob’s breathing was shallow, his body soaked in cold sweat. The room, usually a haven, felt oppressive now.

His eyelids fluttered, but the sleep wouldn’t release him. The nightmare had come again. It always began this way, every so often it would creep back in from a place that he had buried so deep.The dream was always the same, always lingering in the back of his mind. But tonight, it felt more vivid more real.

The world around him blurred, and suddenly, he was no longer lying beside you in the cozy home. He was in the same cold, empty streets of London, the oppressive fog thick around him. His heart raced as he tried to move, but his legs felt like lead, each step dragging, each breath short and ragged.

he whispered your name into the mist, his voice lost in the wind. Panic rose in his chest, thick as the fog that clung to him.

He called again, louder this time. “Y/n! Where are you?”

His voice echoed in the streets, unanswered. A chill ran down his spine as he turned the corner, his eyes scanning the darkened alleyways. The familiar, haunting feeling of being watched prickled the back of his neck.

That’s when he saw it.

The shadow of a figure in the distance, familiar and terrifying. His stomach dropped. The silhouette of Jack, standing just beyond the lamplight, he could almost see twisted grin gleaming underneath the mask he wore.

“No!” Jacob’s voice trembled, his heart pounding in his chest. “Not again.”

Jack turned slowly, and for the first time, Jacob noticed something new: the blood. Dark streaks, fresh and glistening on Jack’s blade, the sharp edge reflecting the faint light from the streetlamp. But it wasn’t Jack that Jacob focused on.

"You couldn't save em Jacob...just like my mother...how useless you are."

Then the world shifted in and soon Jacob found himself standing in their cottage, the warmth of the fire long extinguished. The air was thick, suffocating with a sense of dread, the metallic scent filling the air. You weren't beside him, the bed empty, cold. Panic surged in his chest. His heart raced as he called your name, but his voice felt lost, swallowed by the dark silence.

He stumbled out of the room, his breath sharp in his throat. The floor creaked under his feet, the familiar sound now eerie, unsettling. He moved quickly, his eyes scanning the rooms. Nothing. No sign of you, no sign of the children.

And that's when he heard it.

A soft, eerie sound that froze him in his tracks,his blood running cold. A faint whimper, a cry. His heart thudded painfully in his chest. He knew where it was coming from.

His children...

Jacob rushed forward, his legs heavy as if the ground itself was holding him back, refusing to let him go. He pushed open the door, and the sight before him nearly made his heart stop.

The room was bathed in darkness, the only light from the pale moon seeping through the curtains. But there, in the corner, stood a figure.

It was Jack.

The man he trained all those years ago, the disgrace to the Creed.

The Ripper.

His twisted grin was still there, that same cruel, terrifying smile that haunted Jacob’s thoughts. In his hand was the glint of a blade, red stained and gleaming in the moonlight.

He could almost feel the scars burning again, the blade in his eye.

“Jacob,” Jack’s voice was a low, mocking whisper. “Did you really think you could run away? That your little family would be safe?”

His could feel the file rise up from his throat, heart dropping.

“No!” Jacob cried, finally managing to move, to step forward. “Stay away from them!”

But it was too late.

In an instant, Jack was on them, the gleaming knife raised high. You and the children were already on the floor, the sound of the cries muffled by the overpowering vision of death that loomed above them. The knife flashed down, and Jacob’s stomach churned.

“No!” Jacob screamed, his voice raw with panic and helplessness.

But Jack was already there, the blade raised. It was too late.

Jack’s twisted laugh echoed through the room, a chilling reminder of the pain that still haunted him. The blade drove deeper, and the world seemed to slow down, each second stretching out painfully. His chest felt tight as if the weight of everything—the loss, the fear, the guilt was crushing him.

Jacob’s vision blurred as he reached you, as he kneeling beside you. You were cold, lifeless, your body stretched unnaturally on the wooden, your once radiant face pale and twisted in a final expression of horror. And then, he saw the worst of it the blood. The blood that stained the ground beneath you, the blood that soaked your clothes, your stomach.The knife had pierced deep into you.The visceral sight of the gapping wound in your chest.

His breath caught in his throat as his eyes moved to the children.

Margret and James his children, his little ones, lying beside you. They were motionless. Blood staining their small forms.

His throat burned as he screamed their names.

“No! No, no, no!” Jacob wailed, his body shaking uncontrollably as he reached for them, shaking them in a desperate attempt to wake them up. But they didn’t stir. They didn’t respond. The horror of their lifeless bodies,their cold, empty eyes staring back at him was more than he could bear.

Tears burned his eyes as he cradled your cold form in his arms. “Please,” he whispered, his voice a broken plea. “Please, wake up.”

But you didn’t wake up. Neither did the children.

And then, Jack was standing over him, his cold laughter filling the empty cold and darken home, his blade gleaming in the moonlight, blood slowly dripping. “You couldn’t save them, Jacob,” Jack sneered. “I always win. I always take everything from you.”

The world around Jacob collapsed in on itself, the scene blurring and distorting as the mocking laughter grew louder and louder until it swallowed him whole.

Suddenly, he was jerked awake, gasping for breath, drenched in sweat, his heart racing in his chest. His mind was spinning, the horror of the nightmare still clinging to him like a shadow. The room was still, quiet, but the echo of Jack’s laughter and the haunting image of you, the children, lifeless and cold, wouldn’t leave him.

“Jacob?” Your voice broke through the haze, your warm hand on his chest. He looked at you, startled, his body trembling as he took in your living, breathing form. You were there. You were safe.

He closed his eyes tightly, struggling to calm his racing heart. The nightmare had felt so real. So crushing. He could still feel the weight of it in his chest, the emptiness of losing you, losing them.

“I’m here, Jacob,” you whispered softly, your voice laced with concern. “It’s okay. You’re safe. We’re all safe.”

But even as you spoke, Jacob could still hear Jack’s your echoing in his mind, and the image of you, the children, lying dead at his feet, haunted him.

“I couldn’t save you,” Jacob murmured, his voice hoarse. “Not again. I couldn’t save you.”

Your fingers gently cupped his face, lifting his gaze to meet yours. “You don’t have to save me, Jacob,” you said, your tone tender. “We’re in this together. Always.”

But Jacob wasn’t sure if he could ever escape the terror of that nightmare the terror that Jack’s shadow would always linger over them, even in the quietest moments.

His stomach tightened, then brought his your hand to his lips kissing the palm. "Rest...I just...need to see the children." His voice was still raw as you gave him a reluctant nod.

Quietly slipping out of the bed, Jacob then stood at the doorway of the bedroom, watching as you laid back against the pillows, your chest rising and falling steadily with each deep breath. He could tell you were already drifting back to sleep, the exhaustion of the past days finally catching up with you. Your face was peaceful now.

Jacob took a moment to gaze at you, a tender smile tugging at the corners of his lips. The weight of the world had always seemed to settle on your shoulders, but when you were asleep, you looked free from it. He moved quietly, careful not to disturb you as he slipped out of the room.

His steps were soft as he moved down the hallway, pausing outside the rooms where the children slept. The door to James’ room was slightly ajar, and Jacob pushed it open just enough to peek inside. James was curled up in bed, his small figure swaddled in blankets, his face relaxed in a peaceful sleep. Jacob’s heart warmed at the sight of him, his little boy so full of life. He quietly stepped in and placed a hand on his son’s head, brushing his hair away from his forehead.

“Sweet dreams, lad,” he whispered, his voice barely a murmur, then he pulled the covers up over him just a little more.

Next, he moved to Margaret’s room. The door creaked open, but it didn’t disturb her. Margaret, unlike her brother, was sprawled out, arms above her head, her tiny mouth slightly open as she slept. She looked so much like you, even in her sleep serene, gentle. Jacob stood there for a moment, watching her with a quiet affection.

He leaned in and kissed her forehead, just as he had with James. “Good night, my little one,” he whispered, then made sure she was tucked in comfortably before stepping back out of the room.

Jacob lingered for a moment in the hallway, taking in the stillness of the house. It was a peaceful night, one that he didn’t take for granted, especially after everything that had happened. He glanced back toward the bedroom, knowing that you were there, resting after all the stress and worry. He let out a quiet sigh, relief settling over him as he walked back down the hall toward you.

When he returned to the room, you were still asleep, your hand resting on your growing belly, the light of a candle casting a soft glow on you. He paused in the doorway for a moment, taking in the sight of you, the peaceful rise and fall of your chest, the love he felt for you growing stronger with every passing day.

He quietly closed the door behind him, moving over to your side of the bed. He could hear the faint sound of your breathing, steady and calm. He sat down beside you and gently brushed a strand of hair from your face. You shifted slightly but didn’t wake, your features still soft and relaxed. He could see the exhaustion on your face the toll the pregnancy was taking on you but there was something in your expression that reassured him. You were strong. And you were home. You were here.

Jacob leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I love you,” he whispered softly, not wanting to disturb your slumber but needing you to know. “We’re all safe. I promise.”

He settled in beside you, slipping under the covers and wrapping his arm carefully around you. The weight of the day seemed to fall away as he held you close, his heart at ease for the first time in days. You stirred slightly, shifting into his embrace, and Jacob pulled you closer, keeping you safe in his arms as you fell deeper into sleep.

He lay there for a while, listening to the peaceful sounds of the house, the quiet of the children’s slumber, the crackling of the fire, and the steady rhythm of your breath. In this moment, he felt as though they could face anything together, as a family. And for the first time in a long while, he let himself relax, knowing they had each other, and that was enough.

Jack was gone and he was never coming back and you.

You and the children were here to stay.

#oneshot #oneshots #Assassin's Creed #Assassins Creed #assassin's creed x reader #Assassins Creed x reader #assassin's creed syndicate #ac #ac syndicate #ac jacob frye #jacob frye x reader #jacob frye #Assassin's Creed jacob frye

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kiatheinsomniac · 4 months ago

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⋆ :₊ 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒃𝒖𝒚 𝒖𝒑 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒔 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ☾‧⁺

* * 　　　 ⊹ ˚ . 　　. 𓏲𝄢 ⊹ ˚ . 𝒌𝒊𝒂'𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆-𝒌 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ⋆ :₊ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

𓏲𝄢 ˚ : · 23.10.2024: thank you all so much for 3k! I've been busy with work as I'm taking a year out of university for my mental health but I now feel ready to celebrate this new milestone for the blog! I'll be taking a certain amount of requests from particular fandoms to celebrate! again, thank you all so much to followers old and new for all the support you've given me ♡ 𓏲𝄢 ˚ : · if you have any questions about requesting, don't be shy to ask :) I've set a limit on requests as to not burn myself out 𓏲𝄢 ˚ : · before entering, please be sure to read my blog rules linked here

˚₊‧꒰𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒔‧₊ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 𓏲𝄢 ˚ : · not sure what to request?

˚₊‧꒰𝒇𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒐𝒎𝒔‧₊ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

✧ 𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐒 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐃 ⊹₊ headcanons: 2 fics: 0

✧ 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋 ⊹₊ headcanons: 0 fics: 2

✧ 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍 𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐓 ⊹₊ headcanons: 5 fics: 5

✧ 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐊𝐀𝐈 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐋 ⊹₊ headcanons: 5 fics: 5

✧ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐃 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 ⊹₊ headcanons: 3 fics: 2

𓏲𝄢 ˚ : · beg

✧ 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐏𝐇𝐄𝐑 ⊹₊ headcanons: 0 fics: 3

✧ 𝐓𝐎𝐋𝐊𝐈𝐄𝐍 ⊹₊ headcanons: 2 fics: 2

✧ 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐀 ⊹₊ headcanons: 2 fics: 2

✧ 𝐇𝐎𝐖𝐋'𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐄 ⊹₊ headcanons: 0 fics: 1

✧ 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 ⊹₊ headcanons: 1 fics: 1

✧ 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐑 ⊹₊ headcanons: 3 fics: 1

𓏲𝄢 ˚ : · eternity over coffee

✧ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐒 ⊹₊ headcanons: 3 fics: 3

✧ 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓 ⊹₊ headcanons: 0 fics: 1

✧ 𝐁𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘 𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒: ⊹₊ headcanons: 2 fics: 2

⋆ :₊ 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒕 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ☾‧⁺

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reemonna · 1 year ago

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HI! Love ur blog. Can I req some nsfw headcanons for Connor Kenway? ;)

Oh dear, this is the first time for me to write a whole nsfw blog and I'm so anxious about it, especially if it's about Connor. I hope I won't disappoint and thank you so much!

!!! (Warning: NSFW / not for minors / +18 content) !!!

NSFW Ratonhnhaké:ton / Connor Kenway headcanons

(During the events of AC3)

In spite of his terrifying physique and alarming gazes when he's hunting down an enemy, he can be the softest and most caring creature you'll ever get to know when it comes to him having a physical contact with you

He's so strong and able-bodied, so he can pin you to the wall with both his arms easily and you're here squirming before his huge body

When you're giving him head for the first time he'd be really concerned and anxious the whole time that you might choke. He's fully aware he is that huge

Him having kinks? I don't think so. He's an innocent boy, it's even possible for him not knowing what does the word 'kink' stand for in the first place. He could even ask you about it

"Nó:ronhkwe (love), what does the word 'kink' mean?"

"Where did you hear that from?"

But if he did have kinks, they would be the least risky and hurtful ones. Which means BDSM is a conclusive no for him

Connor is a busy man, he doesn't really have the time to have sexual and romantic relationships, he was once afraid he couldn't give his woman what she deserves. So having you would be his first. Yes, that means he is a virgin

Thus explain why he's shy and probably doesn't know what he's doing in your first time together. But he's a fast learner, with very observant eyes and sharp senses, he will take some mental notes of how to improve and get better by the time. And he definitely does

He's pretty skilled with his hands, according to training and using different weapons and managing them perfectly, so he really knows how to use them well, and he's ready to show you that in other ways than fighting, to play you like a violin, turning you into a sobbing mess

During the whole thing he will ask you some questions from time to time like 'Are you okay with this?', 'Am I doing good?', 'Do you want me to stop?' to let you know that he's wary and willing to make it as comfortable and pleasurable for you as possible

You wouldn't imagine what it's like to do it with him when he's mad about something. He turns into one brutal beast you won't be able to feel your body for a week at least

Once he's done and returns back to his senses, he will regret it immediately and keep on apologising (even if you're not really protesting), making sure you weren't badly hurt

When you're both close enough, he likes to play chasing games with you, tag for an example. He likes watching you from afar, determining your location with his secondary vision, licking his lips and eyeing you in a predatory way, closing the distance between you slowly like a vulture hunting down its prey. That's until he surprises you with a full-of-happiness giggle and hugs you. Holding you tight in a teddy bear way as if he's won his prize, whispering promises of a long blissful night to your ears

He looks like a sculpted statue of a greek god after reaching his climax. With his tired handsome face, pumped lips (more than they actually are), sleepy beautiful half-closed eyes, flushed tanned skin, tiny whines escaping his lips from time to time, sculpted flawless body and a rising and lowering sweaty chest. If he's conscious enough he would have a little wanton smirk on his lips with his eyes fixed upon you

He's the sweetest boy when it comes to the aftercare. He gives away lots of kisses and cuddles, asking you if he did well enough, could even prepare a bath for you to get cleaned up. He doesn't let you make the least effort possible. He takes care of everything himself until he finally lays beside you in bed, pulling you into his lap, fondling your hair tresses and kissing your forehead softly, wishing you sweet dreams

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xreader-headcanons · 2 months ago

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Hi if you could could you wrote some headcannons please for being the youngest of the Frye siblings?

You'd think Jacob would be the most protective over you, and you'd be wrong. It's Evie.

She regularly makes sure you're supervised, whether it be her, Henry, or the rooks.

Speaking of the rooks, they're practically like your cool older cousins who teach you unethical life hacks.

Jacob tends to bring you on low risk missions and is generally a bit more permissive since he wants you to be independent.

Though, if you managed to get hurt by any blighters, someone's getting their ass beat.

No matter where you go in London, you always have allies whether it be the rooks, your siblings, or Henry.

Evie is against you joining on missions, she'd want you to wait until you are older and she keeps you far away from any templars.

However, she does teach you a lot about the creed.

When you start taking on missions, both are so proud of you.

"Who's your favorite? Me or Evie"

"It's Henry, actually."

#platonic assassins creed x reader #platonic x reader #assassins creed x reader #platonic jacob frye x reader #jacob frye x reader #evie frye x reader #platonic evie frye x reader

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ridingtorohan · 1 year ago

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𓇻 ft. ezio auditore x civilian gn reader

𓇻 summary. There's just you, Ezio, and a slow, sleepy morning on a rooftop.

𓇻 content. platonic or pre-relationship. pre-Brotherhood.

𓇻 enjoy! feel free to like, reblog, or send in asks!

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎read on ao3! - masterlist - join the taglist!

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ───※ ·❆· ※───

Soft strands of sunlight crests over the city walls, dusting over the roof slates in a golden sheen. It’s beautiful and tranquil, the starlight fading overhead into hues of gentle light. Early dawn has you feeling cold, a little uncomfortable under the brisk air. Monteriggioni feels quiet beneath the sway of your feet, the small city silent with sleep. Ezio barely breathes - and when he does, it’s relaxed, the motion slow. He’s, somehow, not quite what you imagined and yet everything all at once. Quiet. For all the charismatic clamor you see him with, he watches over the city with a sense of calm that Claudia has never spoken of.

Aristocratic nose, fine cheekbones and firm jawline, Ezio was without a doubt a cut of the finest cloth. Boisterous. Loud. Everything you’ve heard spoken about him - and even seen him act. This is a tender side you didn’t know existed, hidden beneath swaths of fine armour and silky fabric. Looking at him as you do now, his presence almost muted beside you on the rooftop, he seems more man than myth. Gentler, almost, even with the garment of metal strapped to his wrists.

Despite all the armour he typically wears, the imposing and broad figure he cuts, he’s everything but. You’ve seen him out and about, moving along the rooftops and city walls, scrounging for feathers - you still didn’t quite understand that— and tending to mundane jobs. He’s even swept out an arm to guide children back to their feet after a tumble to the street. Which happens a fair bit, even to a young child from your extended family.

Thing is, while it happens a fair amount - Ezio is there to stop it. Always visiting, moving between houses and tending to the people with a spirit and jubilance that you haven’t even seen the Lord cherish the town with. He loves it like his own, a home far from his birthright.

You don’t know much about Ezio’s past, only gleaned some of it from gossip and from Claudia. Even that isn’t enough. Enough would be to hear it from his own lips, to have the man himself explain. But, the strange thing is, despite all the good tidings he gives to the town, when he’s alone with you like this, he grows somber. A million miles away, lost in a world you can’t comprehend.

Other days it’s good. He tends to you like every other townsperson in Monteriggioni, making sure you have everything you need. You’re not even sure how spending time with Ezio like this even happened - what you did to make him choose you. There are many ladies who express an interest in him, many soldiers who want privy into his skills. But he chooses you, takes you for strolls and stops first thing at your market stall when new produce is brought in.

Today is not one of those days.

“I am sorry,” he says then, voice hard in the growing daylight. Not because he’s harsh - never is— but because that’s just how his words sound. “My mind is … quite occupied today.”

“It’s okay,” you breathe out, because it is. It’s okay. You don’t question where his mind goes.

There’s a long moment of silence before Ezio quietly elaborates, “It is close to my Christening day.”

“Oh-” You pause and consider his tone. “I’m sorry.”

His expression twitches then, mirth dancing in his eyes, dark eyebrows knitting together. A small smile plays across his handsome face, fingers spreading across his thigh. “Thank you.” He laughs, an unused sound that rests deep in his throat. “Ah, I’m sure you’ve already heard of Claudia arranging a party, no?” Your pinched expression gives you away and his laugh deepens, eyes turning away.

“She wanted it to be a secret-” You stop yourself there by instinct. But Ezio doesn’t interrupt, he never has. He’s attentive that way, always listening to what you have to say, even if it’s about the soil or the worms in your garden. “You weren’t supposed to know about it.” “She always tries to make it a surprise,” Ezio responds, eyes tender as he looks at you.

“And yet you know of it anyway.” There’s a twitch of his scarred mouth when you speak.

“Mm.” He gives a slow nod of his head, leaning back, brown hair moving from his shoulder to spill over his back instead. Ezio closes his eyes, the hazy sunlight moving across his face as it climbs into the sky. “Has anyone invited you?”

“The whole town is going.”

“Yes, I imagine.” Ezio laughs slightly then. “I’m inviting you as my guest.” It feels like it should be a profound statement - something awe inspiring or an utterance to make you gasp. It doesn’t. Instead, all you feel is a low seeping warmth that touches the tip of your toes. You look down, swaying you feet over the edge of the roof. Ezio isn’t saying it to be polite - there’s something about the way he speaks and acts with you that makes you feel like he’s genuine.

“Thank you,” you say after a moment. “That’d be great.”

Ezio says nothing to that, though you can feel his eyes turn from you back towards the city at your feet. An emotional eclipse washes over you and you’re left feeling cold. Every moment with Ezio is like this - inviting, like summer days and fireflies. Like he sees who you are and accepts it.

There’s nothing for a long moment, just you and Ezio and the slow march of time. Dew glistens on the lower tiles, the rough texture cold beneath your palms. “Thank you for going,” he says - and the way he says it makes it feel more profound than it originally sounds. Like it matters to him, like your presence is something he basks in.

You look at him, at his battle worn features, weary lines smoothing into something almost peaceful. He needs moments like this, you realize. Needs it like you do - the companionship, the ease from everyday life. The slow, quiet mornings, the yawning pull of life. An insurmountable, insignificant second of life - every second that amounts to something more. Because he exists, you exist, and this moment exists.

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else,” you promise, meaning every word of it. You enjoy these mornings with him just as much as he does.

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hoodedboy79 · 6 months ago

Note

Hey. I just saw your post of the idea to write about Assassins Creed. It’s lovely to see someone who would write about the Assasins, like Bayek (he doesn’t get enough love). I don’t have anything particular in mind but I’d love to see some/or reactions of some kind of Bayek, Arno and/or any you feel comfortable with. Have a nice day :))

Being Best Friends With Them: Bayek, Arno & Jacob.

Just to start off with I'm sorry this took so long for me to do but I've got major writers block atm so these might be ass but I tried. Also Arno might be extra ooc cuz I only brought Unity a few days ago when it went on sale and haven't done more than the beginning yet so apologies in advance 😅

================

Bayek

• The most loyal, lifelong friend you're ever going to get right here.

• Even if you two don't see each other as often anymore after Bayek became a Medjay and started a family.

• Talking about him starting a family, you were one of the first people he told when he found out Aya was expecting.

• Invites you over regularly to eat dinner with him and his family, along with Hepzefa and Rabiah if they are free.

• He loves that his closest people get on so well.

• You accompanying him, Khemu and Chenzira on their hunting trips.

• As much as he wants to confide in you after Khemu's death and Aya's departure, he can't bring himself to. Not only because he doesn't want to speak about it when the wound is so fresh but he doesn't want to burden you with his feelings.

• So he doesn't say much to you before leaving to track down the Heron.

• When he eventually returns, and is in a slightly better headspace than before he left, he was happy to see you, and Hepzefa, waiting for him.

• You two have a lot to catch up on.

Arno

• Will silently judge every stupid decision you make, his face tells you exactly what he wants to say though to the point it doesn't feel as 'silent' anymore.

• He will help you clean up and or defend you from the consequences of said stupid decision though.

• The type to have clothes made for you, regardless of your social status.

• Depending on your personality, there's going to be a LOT of disagreements between you two due to Arno's stubbornness (and yours, potentially) but he's willing to come to a compromise with you after enough back and forth, he probably won't admit if he was wrong though.

• Arno never truly gets over Élise and has times where his grief rears it's head, sometimes he'll allow you to comfort him even if it's just by sitting in the same room in silence while you both get on with your own things or other times he'll avoid everyone completely and try to keep himself busy with random tasks till he feels ready to see people again.

• Would like to visit the theatre with you occasionally or just relax for once and have a discussion about art or the newest plays.

• Gossip duo 💅🏻

Jacob

• Sheer pandemonium.

• You two together brings the fear of God into people.

• Spending hours with him in the pub, whether it be indulging in drinking games, playing Whist (don't worry he won't drown you in the river if you beat him) or just chatting with the Rooks, Jacob will make sure you enjoy yourself and hopefully get you to stay just another hour (and buy another round).

• Tells Maxwell about you and eventually invites you to accompany them on one of their random outings.

• We all know how that eventually ends.

• Both of you teasing Evie about Henry. Jacob will definitely turn on you though if he finds out you are courting someone/being courted, it isn't just Evie he's willing to tease.

• He would find out as much as he could about the person that you're interested in, especially if their the one trying to court you. He's been betrayed by people close to him before and doesn't want you to go through the same thing if he can help it.

• He'll make almost everything a (friendly) competition with you; Who can climb this building faster? Who can kill the most Blighters in this random street fight? Who can escape the police quicker?, things like that. Evie will even sometimes join in, which usually ends with the twins bickering after she wins.

• You and Jacob really do share the same braincell at times fr.

==============

I haven't done any hc's in a hot minute and I can see why lol. Maybe I'll rewrite these one day or add to it I dunno.

#assassins creed #assassins creed x reader #assassins creed origins #assassins creed syndicate #assassins creed unity #assassins creed headcanons #jacob frye #bayek of siwa #assassin's creed bayek #ac #ac bayek #evie frye #frye twins #arno dorian #ac arno #platonic

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thesharktanksdriver · 1 year ago

Text

Blood's Thicker Than Water (Platonic)

Made this cause I love assassins creed and I hate how they left the plot point about Desmond having a kid from a one night stand. Like sure there’s a comic for Elijah but let’s be real, who here has read that comic?

Sorry if any of them seem out of character, I haven’t played the games in a long while lol

Also thanks to my friend for streaming the games so I can get back into them lol

You never really met your dad but from what your mother described him as he was….a troubled soul

Now to be fair you’ve never exactly met Desmond Miles yourself but from the stories she told it’s obvious he had his fair share of demons

Some of which seemed to spill from the cracks of his soul from the short time she spent with him

A bartender is what he was, until he suddenly up and vanished from said bar in 2012 and died not too long after

It didn’t really make sense then even to your young mind

The gap between his sudden disappearance and death leaving too much unsaid for your mind not to be annoyed by

But as a child you eventually put the thought away

Eventually you forget

Instead going on to pursue your next whim as you focus on the present, or in your case Learning about the past in the present time

Unlike your fascination with your father that went away, your love of history never faded with time

It just seemed to grow the older you got

Your not sure why but something about history just clicked with you

It was somewhere within the range of middle school and reading national geographic that you had realized you liked it

That despite how some areas of it were bleak and disturbing it was interesting

And it got even more so interesting as you delved deeper into the depths of libraries

Nose buried in books lined with dust and old parchment

Yellowed pages and old ink that you carefully decode from centuries of lost meaning and metaphors lost to the modern age

You studied from the ancients all the way up to Victorian

Easing your way though literal centuries of historical records as you soaked up information like a sponge

And it’s there you vegans seeing an odd…repetition of events that seemed to occur

Odd assassinations plagued each era you looked into, all of which connected somehow by people in odd dress

In some journals that had luckily stood the tests of time you uncovered more eye witness accounts

A solider’s log back in the revolutionary war talking about an odd man meeting with his superiors in the dead of night

The diary of a log master who wrote of an odd frequent visitor that had an odd blade hidden beneath his sleeve

The drawing of a Victorian child being freed from a factory that had a hooded lady and man on the rooftop

I’m one you found a symbol, one created from the bottom perspective of an eagle skull, something also commonly associated with these hooded figures

What’s odd as well is that with these hooded assassins you also find traces of another group

One well know to historians such as yourself

Oddly enough the symbol of the Templar knights keep showing up even after their annulment

It’s odd, but what’s more odd enough is that both seemed to be tied to other historical artifacts

Ones well kept in archives and from the public eye

Ones you shouldn’t technically know about if not for you sneaking into sections your don’t have the status to enter

Their always gold with odd symbols. Somehow always pristine and polished despite the fact their dated to be from before ancient times

They for some reason seem to call to you specifically

Tempting you with forbidden knowledge you wish to taste like Eve

But for now you choose to wait until you can do proper analysis on them without the risk of punishment

So you lie and wait

Admittedly you didn’t think anyone expected for you to be this good at your job

In their defence you were a university student here on Co-op and not an actual full time historian

Hell you were in first year for gods sake

But somehow despite it all

Despite the fact you had actual historians and people in the history program years above you here you quickly began to become an outlier

A shinning beacon within the large archive, so much so that you began being allowed in the restricted sections you already snuck into

Mind you, now properly allowed there with some supervision of sorts gave you much more flexibility in research

You got to touch these artifacts

Hold them in gloved palms as silk covered finger glide across its edges and ridges

You study them extensively decrypting and decoding the ancient texts and hieroglyphs

Jotting down what you found in both a report and your own personal journal

Your not sure why you do so but you chock it up to making sure no one takes credit for your work

And this continues to the point your eventually allowed alone with them

It’s great

You dedicate yourself to this task as you learn more and more

Soaking up knowledge like a sponge as you find out more of what was previously lost

Find new angles and perspectives on events

For history isn’t just a set time and date, it’s interpretation based on what we know from sources

And even then sources can be biased

Sources can lie and silence another person’s view on the event

Your more than happy to try make your own interpretations

Admittedly when you were asked to study what looked to be a necklace from these unidentified ancient artifacts you were ecstatic

How could you not be?

Intricate gold woven in something akin to Grecian jewelry

Yet also had hints of something akin to Egyptian

It also…glows? Or at least you swear you’ve seen it glow gold and pulsate a few times but that could be the sleep deprivation speaking

Either way it’s an honour

One you don’t take lightly as you study it

Spending countless restless nights and days trying to crack its code

An unknown source has been funding the archive and your research quite a bit

Betting big money on it much to your surprise and suspension

You get that this is potentially something big but it feels out of left field

Especially since no one knows the name of the company

It’s just under an anonymous donation every month

It’s sketchy

But you aren’t one to argue about free money to further your and your colleagues pursuit of knowledge

Not when this beautiful place used to be underfunded

Not when most historical records were donated by people with a good conscious

Not when this place was almost shut down

With a sigh you continue on your work

Diligently tact checking and writing up a storm

Your writing looks like chicken scratch but that was a commonality between all history majors

Well, along with being giant nerds

And it’s there at that desk at 3 am in the morning, tired and only running on 3 hours of rest you find something peculiar on the necklace

A sharp jaded edge that you absentmindedly prick yourself on by accident

With a groan you wipe the blood away on your pants

Then going up to get a bandaid

You swore to god if you died of tetanus you’d be positively pissed

Unknown to you the necklace starts to glow

When you get home your more exhausted than usual

Your limbs feel like their kade of concrete and your head is stuffed with tissue

Eyelids trying to glue themselves shut

You practically kick off your shoes before tumbling to the couch

Not bothering in changing clothes or showering for the sweet relief of sleeps embrace

So you flop down face first into the old leather cushions of your couch

Only putting in the effort of fishing a hand to grab a throw pillow and blanket from nearby that you burrowed yourself into

A comfy cocoon/prison you couldn’t will yourself to leave even as you swore for a moment you heard something in the house

But your mind writes it off

Your too tired to question anything let alone get up

All you want is sleep

And that’s exactly what you get as your eyelids shut

You fall into the realm of dreams, odd ones playing out in your mind

Blurred images of odd men

A weird void-like realm

The cries of an eagle overhead

A single word appearing in your head

Kenway

And then your eyes snap awake when the sound of arguing fills your ears

Yelling of several male voices jumbling up your already fogged up sense as you practically fall off the couch in a mixture of fear and confusion

Curses escaping your mouth when suddenly the voices go silent and your left in a realm of fear

Hair standing on end as the creaking of the house makes you more alert

Despite the fact you’d never fought a day in your life you will up the courage to grab a baseball bat and cautious cross to where you heard the commotion

Careful steps on the non-creaky boards of the home that you’d luckily memorized

And there you find several men in old garb

Accents of Red tying them together like a string of fate

Or a trail of blood fainting their very existence

they turn to you with sharp eyes

It’s the one in modern clothes that surprises you the most

The face of your supposed dead father staring back at you

Ocher brown eyes that had long lost their life now rejuvenated as they seem to find familiarity in your own features

Some of which mirror his own along with some of the others in the room

The bridge of your nose

A all powerful spark in your eyes as they flick between everyone and escape routes

The way your lip slightly twitches when you try to keep a brave face

Your posture as you decided what to do

It’s all too familiar to him and them in a way that isn’t just coincidence

Especially not when all of them are Kenway

Not when he had been able to prove to them that fact through the experience of virtually living through their lives up until his death

“I’m not sure who the fuck all of you are but get out of my house.” Your fingers twitch and flex as your palms grow sweaty, the wood absorbing the pressure and moisture “especially my dead dad look-alike”

You all but confirm his suspicions

Their suspicions

And it looks Ike for you tonight will be much longer than you anticipated

Turns out that artifact you were studying wasn’t just as normal one

Neither were the other ones you looked at

The way they explained it as was their “artifacts from dead gods”, a fallen civilization that engineered humanity into being their slaves

It’s a lot to take in

Even more so when your suspicions of something bigger happening throughout global history with those odd deaths were real

Oh, and these were you dead ancestors and dad somehow back from the grave and now in your home

…..yeah safe to say that’s a lot to take in after an already very long and tiring shift

You sit there as they explain this, half asleep, and half exasperated

Cause how the hell are you supposed to believe all this bullshit that for some reason feels correct

Something in you tells you that their right yet your mind is fighting that logic

You’d always been a logical person, when it came to most situations you used your brain instead of your heart

And in those cases things ended up fine

But now your faced with this

A situation where your heart is screaming for you to listen as your brain tries to take this all in

Cause logic is completely out the window at the moment

For now you have to trust them even if your still afraid

I mean, how couldn’t you be?

But you get the sense that they understand

At least a little bit by how their also thrusted into a new environment without much say

Perhaps that (along with your own apprehension) is helping comfort them as well

So for now they’ll stay

Your just thanking (the dead) gods that grandma and grandpa’s old home is big enough for all of them

Altaïr Ibn-La’ Ahad

The oldest down the line of your dad’s side of your lineage finds himself often reading through your books in your study

It was a bit of a surprise one day entering it to find him sitting in a spare chair but you don’t mind the silent company

Especially as he seems to find interest in your studies

Occasionally he breaks the silence and asks you a question about the subject he’s reading about

He’s by far the oldest (even if he’s back in the body of his prime) of them therefore he’s the one who has the most figuratively to catch up on

So you indulge him

And also asks questions as well that he seems eager in answering

Knowledge connects you both, scholarly intellect being the bridge between the two of you despite centuries of time apart

Typically he asks about thinks such as modern life and what is know about his home, what happened to it? What it’s known of his era

You answer as best you can

Especially since that era of time isn’t exactly your forte

But he appreciates it anyways

Appreciates that you try, appreciates that you passionately care about history in the first place

Admittedly your mom was supportive but never understood your love of history

She’d listen to your rants and long conversations with a polite smile but you knew she never understood what you were talking about

But he does

He does and contributes whole heartedly in just as much passion

It’s nice

What’s also nice is that he’s studied the artifacts you now study as well

So now your both constantly coming up and developing ideas together

A constant back and forth

Hypotheses, discussion, and testing

Delving deeper into discovery like you’ve wanted

But with this he also helps you see where passion and obsession mix together

After the loss of his wife and son he delved into studying as a form of escape

It drove who was left away

Made the pit in his heart deeper

He doesn’t talk about it often but he seems to see how you may go down the same path

And he warns you of it

Unlike his younger self (that he now appears as) he’s wise if a little rough around the edges

He encourages knowledge but not to the point where it’s an all encompassing and toxic obsession

Within the household he seems to take a somewhat neutral but quiet role

He helps out and offers advice and guidance

Much like a teacher and grandfather of sorts

Speaking up when he has to and making sure the house doesn’t end up in disrepair

He seems to have a fascination with modern appliances, or at least holds a thankfulness for them

Like a few others he sticks to his robes most the time but you’ve seen him sport more modern clothes once awhile

Stuff still somewhat reminiscent of what he wore before but with a modern flare. Things with hoods and draping. Silks and wool. Something with an accent of red mixed in

Sometimes when you fall asleep in your studies you find a blanket draped over you and a cup of tea at your side

He won’t admit it’s him but he’s the only one who knows your tea preferences

He keeps his worry for you deep down but it’s somewhat relived when seeing that you take his warning of not taking the pursuit of knowledge too far

“It says here there was something called the “French revolution”. Would you care to explain what happened here to me?” He asks making you pause your work for a moment, when he sees your smile he knows your answer. Sure he read some of this book and got the gist of it, but something about seeing your eyes light up at his inquiry makes him feel at peace for a moment.

“Would I ever!”

Ezio Auditore da Firenze

This man is quite literally all up in your (and everyone’s) business

Not in an annoy way per say but he’s definitely curious about the lives his descendants have led (both good and bad)

Ezio is very clearly a family man and it’s somewhat ironic to see since half of this household has some sort of familiar issue

Most of which is some sort of daddy issue stemming from either Haythem or Edward that trickled down the line to you

Something that Ezio is seemingly trying to wrap his head around

Out of the others he’s the one who opens up the most

Partially because you think he misses his immediate family and friends

It must be a lot to handle being away from home, now in a foreign land where everything has changed

Despite that though he keeps a brave face

Almost always flashing a smile as he drags you from your study to have some “bonding time”

You won’t admit it to his face but you don’t mind

Especially as he gives your poor hunched over back a break

And treats your pallet to some good old fashioned (literally) Italian food and not cup ramen once again

He tried it once and threw your supply out, saying he’d be supplementing you with food from now on

You can’t exactly say your disappointment or upset from the heaven that is fresh baked garlic bread and pasta

He cooks not only for you but for the others of the house as well, saying his sister taught him lest he piss off his future lady

Taking in their suggestions and cooking foods from their homes as a way of him offering comfort

Whilst he does these tasks he often hums in his mother tongue of Latin

You don’t have the heart to tell him it’s a dead language

Especially when he seems so happy that you can somewhat understand it

He’s happily rambling and teaching you words

Helping you sound out phrases and pronunciation correctly unlike your Latin professor

Some of his songs he lightly sings under his breath get stuck in your head since he has a good singing voice

But despite the facade you see the cracks

Sometimes you find him looking at modern objects mumbling about how Leonardo would have loved to see this or made something similar

Or how Claudia would’ve liked this book

How Petruccio would have loved this toy

It….leaves a bitter taste in your mouth

Once upon a time you felt this same type of longing for family

Once a time you thought of you dad before going to bed and staring at his old Polaroid with hope

One that would never come to fruition (until now)

It’s why you indulge him, to keep his mind off the deeper plunge of melancholy

Compared to the others he’s relatively open to modernizing

In fact he seems somewhat excited in these things

Raiding your wardrobe like a damn fashionista and critiquing what’s good quality

He also has a wide variety of looks, not sticking to something similar to his time of dress

Versatile and somehow up to date? Your not sure how but somehow he’s in fashion?

Like he must’ve found a copy of vogue or something cause there is no way he just guessed that this was the new trend

When you pressure him on it he replies that he’s simply that amazing

You call bullshit but have yet to find evidence

But in the meantime you ask get him to tell you about Da Vinci and you furiously jot down what he says

Sometimes when he looks at you he sees flashes of Claudia’s quick wit

It makes him long for home yet as he looks at his descendants and ancestor he also feels….something

A small pit of warmth developing as he gets to know the inhabitants of this house longer

Meet Altair besides through a weird vision

His home is in Florence yet that feeling of comfort from the Villa is bleeding into these old (yet new) walls

“So this painting is his most famous work?” He asks looking at your computer with a bit of confusion, his scared lips quirking at the digital image.

“Yeah. This is actually probably the most famous painting in the world”

“Really? Of all his works this one is considered the best? I’m not doubting his skill but of all his pieces?”

“Believe me, I get it. It’s only this famous cause it was stolen”

“Stolen?!? Tell me who did it! I swear-”

Edward Kenway

For someone who was a feared pirate on the seas he’s surprisingly much less violent than you’d think him to be

Sure, he’s scary as hell still but at least he’s not stabbing you in the back and making off with your grandmas pearls or something

Still your a bit unnerved by him considering you did a project on him back in middle school and he’s now in your home

Munching on some god damn biscuits as if this was a normal situation

His son Haytham avoids his as best he can but he seems to bond with his grandson quite easily

Or more easily than he does with Haythem

It takes some time but you eventually go to him when you find him awake at the dead hours of night

A whisky bottle in hands as he occasionally takes a swig in silence as he stares out the window

You don’t talk

You don’t need to when he drinks in silence for awhile staring at the moon before eventually talking about the guilt

In his pursuit of power and gold he let people die

Greed woven into his soul as he sacrificed good men for his cause

He changed and did good yet his past haunts him

Hands stained red

Guilt eating away

A son who doesn’t want anything to do with him

At some point when he stops his rambles you speak

Reminding him that while his actions weren’t good he changed

It doesn’t wash the blood away but it stoped more from staining his hands

Though Haythem avoids him Connor is more than eager to fill his place

It doesn’t fix his overlying problems but it does help

In the morning he ends up talking with you more after this as your initial fear melts away

You end up seeing Edward Kenway, not the fiercesome captain of the Jackdaw

You see a man burdened by past mistakes and still wishes to do better

You see a human being at its core

With history it’s easy to forget the people your looking at was once alive and a breathing being

One who was just as flawed as you and I

But seeing a infamous pirate captain cry about issues pertaining not just time him made you remember that

He isn’t opposed to modernizing but seems to keep a certain sea-like touch to his appearance

Clothes for labourers and something loose is what he normally sticks to

He’s lucky though since he doesn’t exactly have traditional robes and can incorporate what he appeared in with a modern flair

Occasionally when he gets drunk he slurs out old shanties and talks about his epic tales

You might or might not have freaked the fuck out learning that James kidd was actually a woman

Mind blown

Ezio and Altair had to drag you away from your computer from writing an entire essay

Sitting on your countertop he holds a glass of whiskey in hand, one held out for you as you sit down beside him. The moon casts its gentle rays and lights the marble slab you both sit on. “I prefer Rum but this’ll do” it’s said in a playful tone that makes you nod and take a sip.

“I can grab some captain Morgan later…speaking of which, did you know him?

“No, but I did find a few of his things laying about “

“Care to tell?”

“Aye, sure thing”

Haytham Kenway

As the only Templar in this house it’s safe to say he’s definitely the outlier of the bunch

A relative lone wolf from the group that all hold some sort of Ill feelings towards him

From his father its confusion and sadness

The others it’s a mix of that and anger

From Connor it’s just plain…well your not quite sure how to describe it

The two’s entire family situation is just plain messy and thick with tension that their blades could cut through

But here’s the thing, in this house your also an outlier

A neutral zone so to say

Hell, the entire house seemed to be a haven of sorts from their whole Templar vs Assassin conflict

To be honest you don’t really care about this secret war

Well that’s a lie you are interested in these war of secret societies but you don’t specifically care to get involved in their politics

Not when you have business in interfering in it unless a fight breaks out and your telling everyone to calm the fuck down

So safe to say your kinda the only one who talks to Haytham

He is…well sometimes he’s a bit of an ass (in the British type of way) but at the same time he’s good conversation

Specifically when it comes to that of morals and philosophical beliefs

He is a conflicted man

A flawed one

But he holds his beliefs and morals despite the fact he’s been hurt and betrayed by a man he viewed as a mentor

He doesn’t talk about it much but he’s still hurt

Still seething with venom that burns his soul and flesh

Makes him want to lash out despite his upperclassman appearance and attitude

That despite it all he loves his son, so much so he willingly walked into what would be his death knowingly

That despite what happened he loves his dad yet can’t face him yet on account of what he became

What ideals and morals he still believes in even now

It’s perhaps he’s venting this to you rather than a journal because he knows you won’t judge him unfairly on the basis of what side your own

Your judging him as a flawed man and as an equally flawed person

It’s with him as well you open up about your own frustrations

How you still don’t know how to feel about this all

The fact that a lot of what you once knew was flipped on it’s head

Along with the fact your not even sure how to address your dad

It’s an entire mess but perhaps your both messed up together and that also draws you both to talking

To discuss your feelings of insucurity and confliction

To feel comfort that your not alone in not having your emotional shit in order

On some especially…emotional nights you both both have a cup of tea

He seems to enjoy that each time you use a different type, much of which used to be hard to obtain due to shipping and it’s prices

He hasn’t really yet grasped modern technology but your slowly helping him with it

It’s kinda like trying to teach a grandpa to figure out a phone, but now it’s him with the concept of a microwave

Like some of the others he’s yet to really also change his clothes to something modern

There has been a few times though he sported sweaters and vests

Your now working on helping his wardrobe since he prefers a sophisticated look

Occasionally he looks at the photos that line your walls, looking as you evolve through the ages

It’s…odd

With Connor he never had the chance to watch him grow

Never a snapshot to immortalize what he was like a child but now ones of you litter the walls like paintings

He feels melancholy

Yet at the same time he’s happy to get another chance maybe

One that is seemingly being helped by your gentle hand unknowingly

“I never thought about it until now but the stars are different” he says taking a sip of his matcha tea, he lets it pool on his tongue and experience the flavour. Not his favourite but not the worst

“That’s cause of light pollution here…though the stars do move so it it’s possible they’ve shifted position in the sky”

“Do they teach you about the stars in your schooling?”

“Yeah I took some. Not sure why, it just kinda spoke to me. Maybe it’s the Kenway blood”

Ratonhnhaké:ton/Connor Kenway

Of the group Connor is the most quiet and surprisingly the one whom you connect with the best for some reason

Perhaps it’s cause your both socially awkward in ways that let you relate

Or the fact you’ve both been ostracized by society for various reasons

His company is that of a quiet one but one you accept it with ease as you both sit and enjoy each others company

A quiet kinship made of unspoken but understood words from one another

The reminder that someone else is there and your not truly alone

He is perhaps the one you feel you can understand the most

And it’s the same likewise for him

Your both people deeply hurt and still bleeding internally

People raised by only their mother in a cruel and harsh world

People who were let down one way or another by their father

People who are still mad and angry but use that to further their determination

It’s odd but you feel truly understood

Like your soul was peeled back to reveal at your core your still a lone spirit lost in the world

One clinging to what they know as their only lifeline in this confusing and jumbled mess of a situation

The hulking 6 foot 2 man shows you trails near your home

Taking to the forest paths you’ve know your entire life and helping you discover even more about them

And while he does this he teaches you more about the world as you both walk the old beaten path

He tells you how to identify what type of tree is which, which stones are likely geodes and what tracks belong to who

It’s honestly petty interesting especially since he adds snippets of stories from his heritage

In return you talk about what you know as well

Snippets of your own knowledge that he seems to store into his mind just as you do with his stories

An equal exchange of sorts

On these walks you begin to notice he takes you out on these when your at your most stressed

The times in which your mind is overworking and consuming itself with anxiety

The times in which you need to breath

Connor doesn’t seem like one to vocally express his care but he does so through action

Small inconspicuous actions that mean a lot more than what meets the eye

It’s seems that his towards you is helping you when you need it most

Taking you away to just take a moment for yourself

To just breath in the fresh air and let the sunset coloured leaves of autumn crunch under your boots

Letting the cold breeze take away your worries

It’s perhaps better than any type of verbal support

Yet another unspoken action of care and compassion through knowing and watching

Of watching and knowing when you need a break

When you realize this and give him a small tired smile as a thanks he seems to know

Only giving a small nod with a minuscule smile of his own

It only grows bigger when you begin to ask him if his traditions, of the stories and practices of his people that he’s more than willing to tell when he knows you ask out of genuine curiosity and respect

Connor is somewhat 50/50 in modernizing

He adapts quite well but still needs help with certain things as he navigates the situation

But like usual he is anything but resourceful as he watches what you do and figures it out

He helps the others quite a bit with what he’s picked up and somewhat takes pride in the fact he can help them

Whilst he’s privy to wearing his robes he isn’t against more modern clothes

The only problem though is sometimes finding stuff that fits him considering he’s not only a giant but also fairly muscular

But your both eventually able to find some stuff for him to wear that he likes

He really appreciates though that you try to buy clothes and jewelry from nearby indigenous peoples

It might not be his but he appreciates the sentiment and familiarity that the beaded jewelry give him

“I’ve lived here my whole life and walked down these paths a thousand times yet it seems more like your the local here” you say with amusement as you follow Conner through an area you’d be never been before.

He smiles, it’s small but there as he adds “just a matter of perspective. You see the paths your used to and I see ones you hadn’t noticed”

Desmond Miles

Yeah so this is entirely awkward for you

Like how the fuck do you emotionally deal with this and the fact your very dead dad who didn’t know you existed till now is now very alive

And living in your house with his very dead ancestors that are also now alive

Case and point you don’t, specifically you ignore the problem and act like everything is fine

You lock yourself away and try to avoid him like the plague

Somehow Scurry past him and into the kitchen to grab something before returning to your abode to eat

But then things got complicated

Things change

You began talking to the others

Slowly coming out the darkness of your study and joining the dinner table

But you still try to avoid him

It feels like the sight of him burns your mind, all those nights as a kid coming back to you

The hope and then disappoint in learning he died and that he likely never wanted you

Your mother never said this but the other kids did. They always teased and picked at the fact you were a mistake

It’s why you push so hard now to be the best, To prove them wrong (to prove to yourself that your worth existing)

The fact is that now he’s here and you don’t know how to deal with that

How would you even start?

What do you even say to him?

You quiet down when he enters a room because you don’t know what to do

Whatever your about to say dying in your throat like a caged bird and all that came come out are garbled noises as you evade him

Eyes casting down to your hands like a child averting their gaze from their parent when in trouble (he is your dad so it’s the same thing right?)

Leaving the room he’s in as quickly as you can once a take is done

The others notice quick, I mean how can’t they? A damn butter knife can cut through the tension

The whole thing with Haytham and Connor is less tense than this

But what can you even do?

How in thick do you talk to him and how can he even talk to you?

Your 18 and in university, he’s 25 and was a bartender in New York before apparently sacrificing himself for the world

He’s closer in age to being a big brother rather than your dad.

But even besides that he’s been long dead and gone since 2012

It’s been years since that point and more importantly he’s someone important and your not

He’s an assassin born to a bloodline of other assassins

Someone who was raised in this tradition with greatness not only in his origin but also in his death

And your you

A child born from a one night stand who’s only achievement is being good at knowing about old people

It hurts but it’s true

If he’s a star then your a candle compared to his light

A mere blip or spark to the greater picture

There had been times he looked like he wanted to say something but you scurry away before he can say anything

Sometimes you catch the looks and small gestures Ezio tries to make as if to encourage him to go up to you

How Connor sometimes brings up to you how he wishes for reconciliation with his dad and that perhaps it’s possible with your own

Altair not beating around the bush and plainly telling both him and you to talk

But it all feels for naught and dies when those feelings and thoughts return

But eventually he corners you

Well not really corners you per say but he catches you as you leave your study after a talk with Altair

“Listen I don’t have any grudge against you. For one you died, I’d be a dick if I blamed you for that or your decision to save the world and whatever. Second you didn’t know about me in the first place” you say briefly looking up at him before averting your gaze, he looks like he wants to say something but he can’t get a word out before you continue “but you don’t have to act like my dad or anything. You never asked for me, it was a mistake, I was a mistake and I’m fine with it.” (Your lying to yourself)

You leave before he can get a word out, and he’s left alone in the hallway. When he returns to Ezio he just sits down in silence. It’s enough for everyone to know I didn’t go the way he wanted.

Admittedly when you begin to notice odd figures at the achieves you write it off

I mean it could literally be anyone plus the supervisors aren’t making a fuss about them here

If anything their welcoming them and looking at them with hopeful eyes

Small glances full of opportunities in them

It’s odd but maybe their just some non-profit here to support the archive

Or even private benefactors of sorts

But then they turn their attention to you

Plastic smiles on their faces, artificial pleasantries as their main spokeswoman sits in front of you in a slick suit

Her stilettos tapping against the ground as your eyes trail to her bodyguards of sorts

They stand not too close nearby

Watching

Waiting

And then she begins talking

And slowly you grow more and more uncomfortable

Hands playing with one another, fingers twitching in your palm as crescent are indebted in your skin

They apparently are interested in your findings

In your research

But more specifically you

They’ve researched you…a lot

Down from where your mother was born to her great great something grandfather

And your father

…but that’s not public knowledge

It wasn’t even on your birth certificate

This….this isn’t

She smiles though now the darkness melts away into something more knowing

Dangerous and sadistic of sorts

And it’s there on her little pin showing her name you recognize the logo

Within your house you’d vaguely heard whispers of the others talking in hushed tones

You didn’t mind

The less you know the better in that sense

Out of sight and out of mind

But sometimes you’d hear the mumbles of a name that you didn’t put together until now

One spat with venom just as they did with the word of the Templar

Abstergo

You barely have time to react before your black bagged and sufficiently knocked out

Mind drifting to that of panic

What would happen to you?

What will happen when the others find out?

But then those thoughts fade away into the dark void of sleep

When you wake up things are odd

Everything is a sterile white and too bright for your foggy sleep tinged eyes

The room is blurred as is your senses as you weightlessly drift

Everything feels odd

And then it happens sharp and pure pain that leaves you writhing and screaming into the void

And that’s when you notice that white light had left and your in a void of sorts

Empty glitching effects all around you as your left to look around in confusion until you see something

A memory? Specifically one of your memories

Your staring at a simulation of sorts of your past self

A 8 year old in their bed with chubby cheeks pulled up into a melancholy smile

You recognize this moment, your small hands holding a picture that had long been put away into a scrapbook and forgotten

Your left wordless and confused

And then that bitch’s voice appears again and she explains

This entire thing is a simulation of your memories

And essentially their gonna go through your head picking through them to not only learn what they want but then use you as their lab rat cause of your bloodline.

Cause apparently memories of your ancestors could be accessed that way and it was generally easier to have a descendant rather than finding objects and artifacts

And it’s there in that simulation it feels like your mind is being ripped apart

Memories ripped from your mind to play out in front of you as she makes comments and documents them before their forced back in and another is ripped out

Like book having pages torn out and then crudely stitched back in

It hurts so damn much

Over and over

Your just left in screaming again on the ground of this simulated world as she makes idol comments

Left begging for it to stop

For someone to help

For the love of god someone help you make it stop

Of course this would happen to you

You’ve always had shit luck despite your whole family motto being “make your own luck”

What utter bullshit

You can’t make good luck from bad

Can’t just change things when the scales are already tipped one way

But then like a miracle from above she goes quiet and suddenly the memory is gone

And your left in the void still reeling from it all

Still on the glitching ground before once more white encompasses your view

Blinding and bright as your still recovering

And then an unfamiliar voice tunes in

“Your safe” it’s heavily accented, in an Irish twang that’s soft as he says these words to you. A reminder that your ok now, it’s over. “Can you walk?”

You try to look at him with squinting eyes yet they still can’t adjust, your limbs feel heavy like solid rock. Unmoving even as you try. With some difficulty you shake your head

“Aight, I’ll have you carry you then. Are you alright with that?”

“Just get me out of here…please. I just want to go home, I miss my family” it sounds pathetic but as tears begin to fall the stranger doesn’t seem to think Ill of you.

“Don’t worry, I get what that’s like.” The tone is sympathetic and like before is soft “you’ll be home I no time, I promise”

You think for a moment before responding “I trust you”. For a second you feel him go still at that before he picks you up.

For awhile there’s buzzing alarms and panic as your saviour gets you out whoever’s you were taken too

There’s not a moment of silence as he sharply runs and dodges past what you think to be gunshots

Occasionally he grumbles something but for the most part he seems calm

Composed despite the chaos of it all

So much so that it makes you wonder if this is an average Tuesday for him

There’s so much shout and yelling for your already pounding head

But sometimes the yells are silenced as the sound of a blade cuts it short

Footsteps far behind eventually stopping

Sirens getting more and more distant and allowing you and the man to breath

It’s there in the pocket of silence you learn his name

Shay

It sounds familiar, like really familiar yet you can’t put your finger on it

Either way your grateful because how can you not be?

Your away from that place

Away from the torture of having your mind picked apart like a lab experiment

Having the privacy of your memories looked at and prodded

But now your somewhat okay

Your eyes feel weird, your vision feels weird like it keeps switching between something

Your at least somewhat able to walk though it’s unbalanced

but Shay doesn’t seem to mind

He offers an arm that you cling to for support

A kind smile on his face as he makes sure you didn’t injure yourself further

And then you notice his clothes are….old

Like Haytham and Connor level old

And…shit

It’s halfway home through the trails you recognize due to Connor that your vision changes

The world feels bigger as if your third eyes opened or something

Shays figure and presence is highlighted in a clover green

And perched nearby is another green figure, one waiting for a good moment

Shay follows your sight before promptly having to duck out the way from a knife that flies at his head

He pushes you back behind him, you stumble back vision switch between monochrome and normal as someone else grabs you

Instinctively you almost yell before realizing who was now helping keep you steady

And the other person now attacking Shay

“Connor! He’s good! He saved me!”

“He’s a Templar!”

“So is Haytham and you haven’t killed him…again have you!”

At that Shay pauses, turning to look at you with confusion as Connor stops his attempt as slitting his throat

Ezio on the other hand helps you up but keeps a firm protective grip

Watching Shays movements like Connor in apprehension before the two settle down and stare at you for more detail

Both waiting on your word

“He saved me and today has been a long ass day-“

“You’ve been gone for 4 days”

You pause momentarily at that before adding “long 4 ass days of having my mind literally ripped apart. Can we please head back to the house and settle this there? Thank you”.

The moment you get back your almost immediately tackled to the ground by a familiar white and red hoodie wearing absent (dead) father

It’s….odd but nice

Desmond (still feels too awkward to call him dad) is holding you like a lifeline and you notice bags beneath his eyes

He looks like hell

But none of the others are any better either

They all like positively exhausted yet light up when seeing your safe

Your home

It reminds you of your mom when you returned home from school

The long work day evident on her brow but her smile lighting up the room at the sight of your face

It’s no different compared to then except for the fact they all (except Haytham) then protectively pull you away from the nearby Shay who’s being glowered at by Connor

Safe to say it’s a little awkward until you somehow pull free of Desmond’s death grip hobble your ass between the two lone Templars and Assassins

A long discussion having to take place between them all as you not only explain what happened but also it seems you all forget one crucial thing

It seems you forgot about your mom’s side of the family

Whoop de Doo you have more things to process and so does everyone else here

Specifically Connor and Haytham Because before apparently knew (or know of) Shay

Great, another complex relationship in this household like there needed to be more of that

But with this entire situation it also highlights something bigger

Your not safe

None of you are safe

Perhaps you never truly were

And that in turns leaves you with the difficult decision of what to do next

Because In this difficult game of politics between two ever warring groups your a neutral force

You wanted to stay that way but unfortunately fate had other plans

as your drug into this game your left with limited options of sides for not only yourself but for the others who seem keen on following you

Even the two (former?) templars seem to follow your decision

So When Des…er your dad suggests finding his old friends it seems like the best option

It’s either that or be kidnapped and prodded again and who knows what abstergo will do to everyone else (even one’s that once upon a time we’re on their side)

Besides, he says you’ll get along well with someone named Shaun so It can’t be too bad

So he sends out a message and you leave the home you find yourself look at with melancholy

It stopped being a home when mom died but now it seemed like it was just that again

Only time can tell what will bring upon you next

But….you think you’ll be ready for whatever is thrown at you when you have this odd group of family at your side

The expression of blood is thicker than water never really held much weight since you only ever had your mom until she was gone

But maybe you understand it a bit better now

#platonic #assassins creed x reader #assassins creed imagine #desmond miles x reader #ezio auditore x reader #ezio x reader #altair x reader #connor kenway x reader #haytham kenway x reader #shay cormac x reader #edward kenway x reader

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desmond69miles · 9 months ago

Text

The Catch

This is sort of a prologue to 'An Artists Eye'. It uses the same way of meeting/Élise and Bellec are still alive, but reading the previous fic is not necessary! This is supposed to be after the game (but obviously a different ending), it more so came out as a completly different timeline- what the hell it's fiction anyway

Arno offers to show you around the hidden assassin base below Cafe Theatre. He also offers a risky sexual time in a small, curtain-drawn study in the archives.

Warnings/Tags: Google translated French, GN reader (no descriptions listed), oral sex/blowjob, risky sex, getting caught, probably ooc Axeman but IDK anything about him (he 'flirts' with you).

Word Count: 3.4k (rounded up)

AO3 LINK: Here

Enjoy.

---

Arno Dorian was a man of many suits. He drank like a monster, risked his life daily in more ways than one, and fought like a madman. But, he was an attentive lover. Caring and somewhat good-natured when it came to you.

You were wary of Arno's regular disappearances and injuries once you started dating him, perhaps a little more worried than a normal partner would be. You weren't sure if his gambling was getting him into fistfights or if he got into one too many scraps with local drunks, but you could never recall a time when he didn't come back to you unharmed.

At first, you’d thought him a thief or maybe a smuggler. To your surprise, he was neither (or both) but an assassin. You laughed at him then, giving him a look of disbelief, but when he stayed stone-faced, your look of humor soon turned into panic.

“Arno,” you had said, “you cannot be serious. An assassin?” He gave you a slight smirk that you can still picture perfectly today and took your hands in his. “Yes, an assassin. I’ve been one since I was twenty-two.” He said it so plainly that there was no other truth besides that- a killer. You weren’t scared, though, and perhaps you should have been. You trusted him not to get himself captured or, worse, killed.

Despite your trust, he did come home wounded quite often. The unexplained injuries suddenly made a lot more sense, especially the stab and slash marks from a sword--and, god forbid, a bullet hole once in a blue moon. While you weren’t thrilled about becoming skilled at suturing your lover, you got exceptionally good at it. In return, Arno affectionately called you ‘mon infirmière.’

My nurse.

“Arno,” you sighed nervously while threading a needle. “You know that you’re supposed to stick them with your sword, not be stuck by their sword, right?” He laughed and winced after, fists clenching at the two-centimeter-deep slash wound on his right side. “Oui, mon amour, I’m well aware. Sometimes, it’s a bit difficult while fighting three people at the same time.” You side-eye him then, tutting. “I have you, though, mon infirmière. You are much more gentler than Elise and not as scrutinizing.”

You also missed him a lot, even when he was right beside you. The constant fear that he might one day leave and never come back haunted you. Every time he returned in the dead of the night, you couldn't help but feel a surge of relief. You would thank him, your voice barely audible as he quietly removed his boots, careful not to disturb your sleep.

It’s been six months since you’ve started dating Arno. Your worry decreased dramatically during that time. Partially because the longest missions Arno’s been on are only a few days to a week at most, partially because he’d always spend a day or two before that mission with you doing things he’d know would quell your stress. This time, though, he’d be traveling to Toulouse for three weeks: six hundred and seventy-eight kilometers, a day and a half carriage ride away.

Arno was going to leave in two days, and he had been spending time with you in between the preparations. You sat in a chair by the fire, scribbling around your sketchbook. Arno was gone—probably below Cafe Theatre or in the study—the only thing keeping you company was the gentle crackling of the flames and the songbirds chirping outside in the terrace garden. Summer was coming to its final stretch and starting to transition into fall. Leaves were turning into gorgeous shades of red and orange, the temperature just warm enough to leave without a coat, and the apple trees were blooming to make the perfect apple cider.

A beautiful time of growth and change, and you’d be experiencing it with mostly Elise and your best friend (not that you had anything against Elise or your best friend; you did love them, but something about fall was so romantic).

“Mon amour,” a disembodied voice said, “what are you drawing?” His hands rested on your shoulders, squeezing lovingly before he leaned down to kiss the top of your head. “Eurasian jays,” you replied, moving your gaze from the crisp paper to your lover. He stole a chaste kiss and looked at your page of elegantly drawn birds. Arno recognized them as the bird that stole a piece of your bread a few months back, a smile drawing to his face.

Arno sighed through his nose. “How are you?” he asked, his voice ever more soothing at this peaceful moment. “Alright. How is your work going? Are you still leaving in two days?” His slight noise had confirmed, although he did not speak, and he moved one of his hands down, carefully taking your sketchpad away and setting it down on the table next to the chair.

“I have something that might put your mind at ease during my mission,” Arno said softly. “The Council has permitted you to visit our headquarters. You can meet my mentor and our fellow assassins. While you can't go there alone, I thought it might comfort you to see where I spend my time.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, quickly taking his hand as he helped you stand.

“I wouldn’t suggest it if I weren’t certain,” he replied, reassuringly smiling. “There aren’t many people there right now, maybe my mentor or a few friends. We could go now if you’d like?” You chewed your lip briefly, pretending to ponder before nodding. “Alright, let’s go.”

Arno led you down the familiar hallways of Cafe Theatre, but this time, he stopped at a spot you had never taken much notice of before. With an odd-looking key that you’ve never seen before slotted into the lock, the dark wooden door swung open with a quiet groan. Inside was a dimly lit staircase that descended into a stone hallway with a red rug lining the middle. “This way,” he said, taking your hand as he guided you into the dimly lit corridor.

The passage trailed downward, the air growing cooler and damper as you descended. The walls were lined with old, worn stone, and the faint scent of old books and earth made up the air. Arno walked with the confidence of a man who’d traversed these halls too many times to count, his gloved fingertips brushing against the bricks while his arm that didn’t wield the blade held your hand.

Eventually, you arrived at the bottom of the staircase. The hallway was much grander than you had seen from the top of the stairs--curtains framing big paintings of what you assumed were important figures in the assassin world, numerous pedestals holding silver or iron statues, and a large red tapestry with a white emblem on it hanging from the tall ceilings, the Creed’s sigil. The room was illuminated by torches mounted on the walls, casting a warm, flickering glow that danced over Arno’s face and shadowed a beautiful gleam on him.

Once the hallway ended, there was a room containing a long table surrounded by haphazardly pushed-in chairs. On all four sides of the room was another hallway, but the one in front of you led into a vast room resembling a courtroom. It was no less magnificent than the hallways—possibly a little more—such as the oak table covered in various maps and documents and the walls lined with weapons and other neatly organized tools of the trade.

Arno turns to you with a gentle smile, speaking in a tone that feels a little too loud for the setting, “This is where I spend much of my time when I’m not with you. It’s not much, but it’s home.”

You took in your surroundings with a deep breath. There was a strange comfort, as well as uncertainty and awe, seeing where Arno lived most of his life. You had talked about seeing the creed’s hideout when you first found out about his position, and honestly, what you saw now was not what you envisioned in your mind. When you think of Assassin, you think of torturing and other dark things. While you were sure it did happen, there was no hint of it here.

True to his word, there weren’t many people in the hideout. In fact, there wasn’t a soul around. “Is it normal for there not to be people?” You ask, looking at Arno as he wraps an arm around your waist. “No. Usually, there are many people, but most of us are out on missions, and the council is out on a meeting with-” “Arno!”

“Axeman, mon ami!”

You turned your head to the right to see a man walking towards you, an axe strapped on his back. You rolled your eyes playfully at the ‘clever’ name of his friend. Axeman slapped his hand on Arno’s shoulder in a hello, his brown eyes meeting yours. “And half of us thought you made them up,” he jests, sticking his hand out for you to take and gently kissing the back of your hand. “How could I make someone so great up?” Arno smiles, and his arm briefly squeezes you closer.

Axeman chuckles while running a hand through his pushed-back brown hair. “As much as I’d like to stay and chat with your lovely partner, I do have a mission to get to.” He gives you a small smile and Arno a playful smack again, turning to walk the way you came in. “Bellec’s around, so be on your best behavior.”

Once his buddy left, your lover turned to you, giving you a frisky smirk. “Let me give you a tour,” Arno grabbed your hand again with a slight squeeze and led you deeper into the underground hideout, his hand warm even through the worn leather glove. “This way,” Arno said, pulling you to the left hallway. This passage was thinner than the others and dimly lit by candelabras placed every five feet, occasional carvings etched into the stone walls between large pillars. Large wooden doors started after the fourth pillar, and Arno took you to the second one on the right side, swinging open the heavy door and nodding you inside.

“This is the main training room.” He gestured with a flourish, letting you step inside and look around. The space was huge, with mats covering the floor. Wooden dummies and targets lined two of the four walls, some riddled with throwing knives and arrows, some looking so broken it was just remembrance of rough training. Three assassins were sparring, one sitting down to the side drinking water and two practicing their knife skills.

“Care for a quick lesson?” He teased, knowing full well that you weren’t one for battling people, instead gnats or annoying flies that buzzed around. “Maybe later,” you replied with a grin, “What’s next?”

He followed you out and closed the door behind him, leading you across the hall into the next door. “Here is the armory.” The room opened to reveal wooden walls lined with weapons of every kind: swords, daggers, pistols, rifles, smoke bombs, bomb bombs, and, of course, things to maintain the hidden blade. Each was meticulously maintained and ready for action. “Most of us have our preferred weapons, so this is mainly for recruits or people who have lost a weapon. Pick any weapon, and it’ll have a story,” Arno said, following you inside.

His fingers brushed an ornate-looking sword, the beautiful engraving on the blade glinting in the candlelight. You reached out, touching a dagger with an intricate hilt next to the sword Arno was looking at. “What about this one?”

“Ah, that belonged to Thomas de Carneillon, an assassin in the 13th and 14th century,” Arno explained, “he tried to steal a sword of Eden, the same one that killed Germaine.” He gives you an inquisitive look and lets you wander around the round room, watching as you observe the weapons with a curiosity that makes his stomach twinge in an absurd kind of attractiveness.

Once you circle the room and return to Arno, he offers his hand again and leads you out of the room and deeper into the hallway. “You’ll love this,” he assures, motioning towards the end of the hallway where a huge arch opened up to a library. “This is the south archive,” he said, smiling at your giddy smile.

It smelled like old parchment, ink, and worn leather-bound books, a scent that engrained itself in your brain. Shelves upon shelves of ancient tomes, scrolls, and books lined the walls, going up to the ceiling where a giant metal chandelier hung. Maroon velvet curtains lined the arch, and when you slipped into the library, you didn’t notice Arno tugging the golden rope that held them back. The drapes made a soft noise as they closed, dimming the room just the slightest bit, and Arno watched as your fingers trailed over the spines of the books.

“It’s beautiful,” you murmured. “You said that this is the South archive?” Arno hummed a ‘yes,’ coming up behind you as you pulled one of the smaller books off the shelf. He wrapped his arms around your hips and kissed your temple, scanning the book you opened. “This library isn’t the biggest one here, but this one is always empty, perfect for us.”

Arno watched the trail of your fingertips against the worn paper, gentle like your fingers when you trail them over Arno’s back. His eyes followed your hand as you turned the page, forefinger and thumb pinching the page like when you pinch your nipple while he’s fingering you. He should not be turned on right now.

“Arno,” you said, head turning to look at your lover behind you. His eyes caught yours, your pretty eyes that always glistened right before you orgasmed, and right then, he made up his mind. Before you could speak again, Arno had pressed his lips against your soft ones, maybe just a little too roughly, the leather of the book in your hands creaking with how hard you gripped it.

His hand grabbed the book from your hands and placed it back on the shelf with a little bit of struggle. Nipping your bottom lip, Arno’s hands gripped your hips and slipped his tongue inside your mouth. He tasted like wine and something sweet--something him-- and god, you’d be lying if it wasn’t intoxicating for the both of you. When you did pull away, a slim bridge of saliva connected your lips and snapped when he licked his. You were suddenly very aware of the predicament you’ve gotten yourself into--his erection pressed into your behind and his needy hands wandering your body.

“We’re in the base,” you un-needily whispered, sucking in a small breath as his lips moved to your jaw and pressed a kiss just behind your jawbone. “Oui, but we are alone. No one is near us, and we’ll be quiet.” You shakily breathed as he continued to kiss along the side of your neck and fuck; if the thought of risk didn’t set a throbbing between your legs, you weren’t sure what did.

With an enthusiastic nod, Arno grabbed your hand and pulled you to one of the curtain-drawn study rooms off to the side. As he did with the entrance to the archive, Arno pulled the rope holding the drapes back off and dropped it to the floor. The ambient candlelight under the curtains, the only light in the ‘private’ study room, set a surprisingly intimate aura as Arno’s hand cups the side of your face and kisses you again. This one was headier, making your mind swim as his other hand grabbed your butt, pushing your hips into his.

Your hands that had been resting on his shoulders slipped down his chest and to his belt, one palming his obvious arousal and the other fiddling with the belt buckle. He groaned into your mouth, hips chasing your hand as you moved it up to help undo the buckle. His hands joined yours in a messy struggle, and once his belt was undone, you immediately sank to your knees.

Arno swore--a short, breathy ‘merde’ that sent every single ounce of blood that was in your brain rushing south, and with that blood came a fleeting thought of how easy it was to get you to suck him off in a place with people. It wasn’t the first time that you had sexual interactions in a public place--far from it--but it was the first time that you’d be on the giving end.

His hand came to rest on the back of your head as your fingers unbuttoned his trousers and pulled them down with his undergarments just to free his cock. Even in the darkness, you could tell that he was fully hard, your hand that didn’t rest on his hip coming to stroke him teasingly slow. Your thumb swiped over his tip that dribbled precum, and his hips twitched with a soft groan that was nothing short of heavenly.

You softly pressed your lips against his head and trailed them down his shaft, letting your spit dribble against his heated skin and slicking him up with your hand. His quiet groans and the schlick of your hand made up the space--an erotic opera--and finally, your lips slipped around his tip and gently sucked. “Dieu, fuck, don’t stop,” Arno groaned, hips rocking in time with the drawls and push of your head. After enough saliva drips from your mouth and down his cock you took him deeper in just so the head of his cock was resting against the back of your tongue.

Arno moved both of his hands to the side of your head and gently held you in place, his thumbs stroking over your cheekbones, and he began to thrust into your mouth. At first, his thrusts were shallow, but as your hands came to his thighs once again, Arno gave a chuckle and picked up his pace. You slid your tongue against the underside of him, and he let out a groan, one that was a little too loud. “Good job, mon amour, good job…”

No matter how many times you took him in any way, there was never a time where he failed to make you so painfully aroused.

“Suck,” Arno said, stopping his movements rather deep inside the constrictive heat of your throat and petting your head. And just like he said, you hollowed your cheeks and sucked. His head thudded against the wall he had his back rested on, and, oh, that groan. Primal and needy and wanting in every sinful way known to man. “S'il vous plaît, continuez, putain, juste comme ça. Tu me prends si bien- si bien, fuck!”

His fingers threaded through your hair and gripped the strands, holding them tight as he rocked against your mouth. Arno was so, so close, you just needed to suck a little harder and-

“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, ARNO?!”

You immediately pull off of Arno, who seems equally surprised but, strangely enough, not embarrassed. You wiped the back of your mouth with your hand and turned around, face mortified at the silhouette of a man standing in the doorway. He shook his head and turned around, letting the curtain fall behind him, and you could still tell he was outside due to the shadow from under the drapes. Arno haphazardly tucked himself back into his pants and offered you a hand up off the ground. When he pulled you up, you gave him a look, one that said Arno, are you fucking kidding me? but all he did was chuckle and step out of the study.

“Désolé, Bellec.” Your lover said, utterly unphased by the fact you had just been caught in a very precarious and intimate moment, and you heard a sigh from not Arno. “You never fail to amaze me, pisspot,” The man- Bellec- laughed.

You stood in the study for a good fifteen minutes with your face aflame, too embarrassed to even walk out of the hideout.

Thankfully the second meeting with Bellec was not when you were sucking Arno off and instead over wine (that doesn’t mean you weren’t a hot-faced mess with an embarrassed smile on your face throughout the whole thing, though).

#arno dorian x reader #arno dorian #arno dorian smut #assassins creed x reader #ac unity #ac unity x reaer

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elfven-blog · 9 months ago

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Complacent (2)

Summary: It's the prison break scene from the game! But with more water!

Orca!Merman!Connor Kenway x Reader A mini series.

CW: Connor in too small a tank again (But not for long!)

Dedication: Still to the lovely @ramshackledtrickster (who I also commissioned for the art of Ratonhnhake:ton in this chapter)

Word count: 1.5K

You didn’t realise just how hard it would actually be to get the large merman out of his enclosure. Had spent hours agonising over plans to get Ratonhnhakè:ton out of that aquarium. (and possibly still keep your job)

At some point you’d managed to get in contact with people from other aquariums, or those who didn’t agree with what was happening. There was even some captain who had been involved in the capturing of them.

He had told the story of the hunting trips he’s been on, how the eyes of the merfolk had haunted him so much he’d nearly drank himself to death. How that was when he knew he needed to do something to help.

Captain Faulkner had agreed to help you, if you needed his boat to get Connor out and where he needed to go. He also happened to own a rather large lorry that you had been trying to figure out how to turn into a tank.

If you could get the large Orca out of his enclosure and into the lorry. You could get him to the ocean.

But it was very difficult to try and make a plan when said Orca kept trying to have all of your attention. At some point the director had put a stop to your visits to Connor’s enclosure and had some other keeper cover for his main ones when they couldn’t be there.

And Ratonhnhake:ton had decided to show his displeasure and protest by refusing to eat. He also was rarely surfacing at this point, his keepers had tried everything. Which had resulted in him nearly biting someone, not that you thought he would, he probably just bared his teeth and snarled.

Now you had the rest of the plan sorted. You just had to figure out how to get him out. It was your day off and you were ‘visiting’ the aquarium as a guest with your friend, Desmond. All under the guise of getting some kind of an idea.

Ratonhnhake:ton was still not available for the public, which was good for you, but unfortunately meant as you weren’t on schedule that you couldn’t technically go see him. Luckily for you, Desmond had a penchant for getting into places he wasn’t meant to be.

And the moment you had told him about the large merman it was like a fire was lit under his ass and he almost demanded to be involved in your plan.

Your eyes shifted around to make sure no one was watching as Desmond messed with the lock on the door. He had been worried about the cameras but rolled his eyes and let out “oh of course!” when you told him they didn’t actually work, they were just there to scare potential thieves.

It took him less than a minute to open the door as you looked at him in wonder, your mouth open and eyes blinking slowly. Desmond shrugged as he closed your mouth “You might catch flies you know?”

His words made you roll your eyes as you gently swatted his arm before walking through the door, you could see his scarred lip twitch upwards as you both began walking through the hallway to where Connor’s enclosure was. The man behind you is practically bouncing off the walls in his excitement.

You pause as you open the door at the end of the ‘kitchen’ where you prepare the food, turning to Desmond with narrowed eyes “Don’t get too close” as you step through the threshold.

Desmond stayed in the outer area, watching and waiting. His own eyes narrowed with that familiar protective glint in his eyes. He couldn’t help but be protective, you had known each other since you were young and from everything he had read (and that you had spewed in your rants about the director lately) merfolk could be dangerous.

At first it was like there was nothing in the water, reminding you of the first time you’d ever entered the enclosure. You kneeled down at the water's edge, peering over and into what felt like an endless void. Your nose scrunched up, the corners of your lips turning down at the state of the pool.

The water had grown dark and murky, you could see algae building up on the glass on the other side and you we’re almost positive that the water hadn't changed.

Desmond cocked his head as he watched your eyes almost double in size, he knew that look. It was the same one you always got when you had an idea.

Your hand reached out to pat the water making a small ripple around your palm, nothing happened for a moment and then a large hand touched your palm. Fingers curling around your own as something large took shape under the water, until you were pushed backwards by Ratonhnhake:ton emerging.

His eyes flicked to Desmond, who held his hands up and tried to disappear against the wall. The merman was distracted when your hand tugged his own and his eyes were quick to turn their focus back to you “Ignore him, he’s here to help”

“Help?” he repeated in that rumbling voice that seemed to echo without actually producing the echo. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips as you gave him a short nod.

“Your water hasn’t been cleaned in some time, I shall have to push for it” the look in your eye seg something off in Connor’s stomach, it seemed dangerous and therefore all the more exciting. His hand let go of your own, finding their place either side of your legs as his eyebrow raised.

“I haven’t let them, I don’t like the small water” He seemed offended at the noise you made, halfway between a snort and a laugh. His hand swatted at your leg for the crime of laughing at him.

He, of course, meant the temporary cleaning tank used while the main pool was cleaned. “You’ll have to bear with it for a while, it’s your only way out” Conor took a deep breath and released it with a growl before nodding his head.

“Fine, if I am free of this place then I will deal with it” Your arms reached up to wrap around his broad shoulders in a hug. Barely able to hug him properly even as his own arms wrapped around you “Only this once”

It was all planned. The beginning had started.

The Director had been easily convinced that his ‘star attraction’ needed cleaning, and when Ratonhnhake:ton had been moved into his temporary home, which is meant to last for a few hours at most, they drained the pool.

Only for (shock horror and gasps all around) the realisation that the pool needed a good long soak. Which meant that Ratonhnhake:ton needed transportation to a nearby aquarium with enough space.

Which led to you and Desmond waiting with Captain Faulkner at a lorry stop. You had managed to talk to the lorry driver hired to take Connor, convinced him that there had been a change of plan and that about half way the lorries would be swapped.

You couldn’t believe that the driver had brought it.

But your heart almost stopped as you saw the driver pull in, Robert choked up a coughing fit as he saw it. Letting out a ‘Damn me, it worked’ as all three of you watched the truck stop.

Changing over cabins seemed easy from where you were, you smiled and thanked the driver while wearing your uniform. Making it all seem more official just to dissolve any of the questions that the driver would have.

Once his lorry was out of sight, Faulkner locked you in the back where the Orca was being held and the two got in the front. Heading to their destination where the boat was docked. Heading towards Ratonhnhake:ton’s freedom.

Your hands settled onto the glass as you gave him the softest smile you could. He looked so small and cramped in the tank compared to the pool. You couldn’t help but wonder how he looked in the ocean, something you hoped you got to see before you both departed ways.

“We’re nearly there, just a little longer” His eyes opened at the sound of your voice, one of his own hands placing against the glass with yours. Oh how sad his eyes seemed, there was excitement there too but it seemed overshadowed by the profound sadness.

His other arm wrapped around his waist, hand placed right above his hip and his tail seemed to curl up. Well not quite curl it was more that he had been forced into a foetal position. Now you understand why he didn’t like the ‘small water’ as he called it.

“You’ll be able to stretch out soon, before you know it, Bull” you used the nickname in hopes of bringing him a smile even if it was small but all that happened was he turned his head and closed his eyes. Head buried against his bicep.

#connor kenway x reader #assassins creed #connor kenway #ratonhnhaké:ton x reader #ratonhnhaké:ton #assassin's creed 3 #assassin's creed #assassins creed x reader #assassin's creed 3 x reader #merfolk!assassins creed #merman!connor kenway #merfolk au #connor ac3 #ac3 #ac3 x reader

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jacobfryes-hoe · 2 years ago

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period headcanons

A/N: Altair, Arno, Edward, Ezio and Jacob with a significant other on their period.

Disclaimer: gifs are not mine! mentions pain and menstruation.

Altair doesn't have much knowledge of periods but tries to understand what your going through.

he does his best to comfort you, even though it's not his forte.

he will go to the shops for you, but wouldn't have a clue what to buy, he'd be in the right aisle but wouldn't know what products to get and would just buy one of everything because he is too proud to ask for help.

tries not to snap back when your period makes you irritated.

brings you plenty of water and nutritious food to help you feel your best.

Arno has quite a bit of experience with periods because of Elise, so he knows mostly what he's doing.

he will bring you whatever you want if that be treats from the cafe, cuddles, blankets etc, you name it and he'll have it there as quick as possible.

If the pain got too much Arno would get you some painkillers and a hot water bottle to help and if that doesn't help, he'll try to distract you from the pain by reading to you or doing your favourite hobbies with you.

doesn't mind your mood swings.

would spend the day with you cuddling and eating treats.

Edward loves using your period as an excuse to stay in bed all day eating junk food.

he doesn't really know how to deal with mood swings, they put him on edge and he probably would just stare at you with a blank expression or offer you food to see if that will cheer you up.

will fetch you painkillers, food, drink and anything you want.

Ezio spoils you when you're on your period, constantly reminding you how amazing you are, and showering you with both affection and treats.

would cook his mother's recipes for you.

will and loves to cuddle up with you.

does his best to help with the pain, whether that is getting you a hot water bottle, running you a nice warm bath or just getting you painkillers, he's on it.

is very patient when it comes to your mood swings.

Jacob is the best for cheering you up with his stupid jokes.

he can't cook for you but will buy you your favourite snacks from the shop.

same as Edward, he loves using your period as an excuse for spending the day in bed.

doesn't really know much but tries his best - asks Evie for advice.

confused by your mood swings but isn't annoyed by them and is easygoing about them.

is very sympathetic when it comes to the pain, will make you tea in bed and cuddle up with you to comfort you.

#assassins creed #assassins creed x reader #jacob frye x reader #jacob frye #edward kenway x reader #edward kenway #ezio auditore x reader #ezio auditore #altair ibn la'ahad x reader #altair x reader #altair #altair ibn la'ahad #arno dorian #arno dorian x reader #arno x reader

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howtotrainabraincell · 6 months ago

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Sweet head cannons about different Assassin's Creed characters

Henry Green: This man knows his flowers and does he ever spoil you with them. Whether they're given directly or left around for you to find, they always have sweet meanings and divulge his feelings for you in beautiful, colorful, little ways.

A pink rose once you two have known each for a time, symbolizing his vow of love and his desire to grow old with you. His hand was slightly shaking when he gifted it to you before he spoke gently to you in Punjabi, before telling you that he loves you and wishes to marry you in English. You both shed tears of happiness when you got engaged. It would be years later but when you learn enough Punjabi you would realize that he had told you "I wish to spend the rest of my life with you".

I have a feeling that he remembers the small things. If you two are out to meet a contact for information or out collecting intelligence for the Brotherhood, and you come across a store window where a beautiful cameo is on display, when you express appreciation for it or make a comment about how beautiful it is, he will remember that. Say this is in January....this man will surprise you with it months later on your birthday.

Malik Al Sayf: The thing about Malik kissing you if you are an assassin vs if you're not an assassin is this...he wants to, but it can be tricky. If you are an assassin, he'll kiss you on the cheek the same way all assassins greet each other and bid you 'Safety and Peace' as he would normally do with his fellow assassins, as he doesn't want to give any headway to any rumors about you two. But it's complicated. If he doesn't kiss you then questions will be asked (by Altair OFC who else?) but if he does kiss you, he has to be careful to not be too quick - to seem as though he has a crush and is flustered/he can't stand you (which is NOT true as you are literally the only person, he CAN stand lol). Then there's also the kissing you for too long bc he'll seem romantically interested (OH BOY IS HE) but he can't reveal that as much as he wants to.

Have a feeling the man is an overthinker haha.

If this is before Al Mualim that is - afterward he'll kiss you without a care and if Altair says anything he'll threaten to throw a knife at him lol. If you're not an assassin though, why would he have reason to kiss you??? But you better believe that he'll come out of nowhere when you're minding your own business, whisk you off somewhere where you two can't be seen and kiss you breathless.

Haytham Kenway: He seems like the kind of lover to be gone a lot, but he really tries to make up for it when he comes home. He understands that gifts and surprises don't make up for his absence - although each gift sent is silent sincere apology - but even if he's not there he'll provide for you.

I don't know why...but something tells me that the man gets matching things for you two. If you're wearing a blue dress, he's wearing a suit in the same color and you two always look very dashing whether apart or together.

You could wake up one morning expecting another day at home, when Haytham has instructed the household to make a nice to go breakfast for you and then for the groom to take you horse riding so you can get out of the house for a little bit. With Templar protection of course he's not taking any chances. He may also arrange a day in Boston for you to go shopping and stay in the city to unwind for a bit. Expect gifts to be delivered when he's away. He'll have a dress made for you and have it sent a week after he leaves with a sweet letter alongside it as well. A flower delivery a few days later. He even surprised you with a spaniel puppy once.

#assassins creed #ac: syndicate #ac1 #henry green #malik al sayf #ac3 #haytham kenway #assassin's creed drabbles #assassins creed x reader #henry green x reader #malik al sayf x reader #haytham kenway x reader

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demigoddessqueens · 1 year ago

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more fluff 💞

a fluff headcanon companion piece to this Haytham request

Ezio

Oh he’s pulling all the stops to impress you, night life in Florence and all over, the most romantic dates, and though he’s flirtatious, there’s a genuine feeling to it

Edward

Lets you take the helm of the Jackdaw sometimes, brings you along to his missions, tells you of life back home, long talks under the stars that light up the sea

Jacob

Likes spending time with you by sneaking away to any of the pubs or rooftops

Eivor

Watching the Northern Lights with you whenever they pass over because of how your face lights up in joy

Bayek

You’ve taken riding trips with him sometimes and also found an oasis refuge

Aveline

A bit of a shopping trip, canon or au, can turn your frown upside down

Connor

Very fond of taking nature walks with you, hunting trips, or tasting whatever delicious dishes you’ve concocted

Yusuf

He’ll want to take you all over Istanbul, admiring her night life and numerous shops to offer

Altair

Likes talking philosophy with you, training or admiring the views from the rooftops of Masyaf

Evie

She likes a good book/library date with you

Kassandra

There was a grotto spot you two stumbled across to get away from the more city life

Arno

A tragic romanticist that takes you along to see the Paris skyline, dates at the Cafe Theater or dancing under the chandeliers

Henry

He likes making you tea or recommending a book for you, maybe even cuddling you with a good book

Aya

She likes practicing archery with you, or just using it as an excuse to hold onto you 😉

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kiatheinsomniac · 1 year ago

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hi kia :) are you doing ok? i hope you are queen 💃 I was wondering if you could write how the assassins (altair, ezio, connor, arno, jacob) would react to a reader who suddenly passed out after standing up too fast 😭 it happened to me yesterday and it made me laugh so hard afterwards like thats the goofiest way to pass out ever 💀 iron deficiency queen 👏

☾ ⋆ ﾟ𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 / 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: bestie mood. i stand up too quickly and immediately go semi-blind and have to lean on things for support lol 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: altaïr, ezio, ratonhnhaké:ton | connor, arno, jacob 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: none

｡･:*˚:✧｡ altaïr ibn-la'ahad

♡ he's got the fastest reflexes you've ever seen, he's lunging to catch you so you don't fall or hit your head. He immediately checks that you're still breathing and will cup your face in his hands and give firm pats to your cheeks while talking loudly to you, trying to pull you back to consciousness

♡ when he finds out why you've passed out, he's immediately reprimanding you and sending you to go and eat enough nutritious foods.

｡･:*˚:✧｡ ezio auditore

♡ he wasn't quick enough to catch you yes this is based on how quick you have to be to interact with the game or you don't get to hug Leonardo sobs but he does immediately check you over for injury, your head being the first he checks. He lays you on your back with your head in his lap as he waits the few moments it takes for you to return to consciousness

♡ he immediately begins to ask how you feel and if anywhere hurts and wants to know if you're sick or if you've been eating or drinking enough. He'll pick you up bridal style and cook you a meal himself if it's older Ezio but younger Ezio will lay you down somewhere cosy while he sends for a servant to cook for you.

｡･:*˚:✧｡ ratonhnhaké:ton | connor kenway

♡ he won't show it but he panics. He's watched his village be burned to the ground as a child and his life's work revolves around killing people so when he sees you drop to the floor, his first though isn't that you've fainted but that you've died.

♡ he soon gets over that moment of gut-wrenching panic though and comes to his senses, immediately checking you over for injury, checking your temperature and your breathing. He sets you down somewhere comfortable, assuming you're now on your way to bruising from hitting the ground. He makes sure that you get plenty to eat and drink, trying to use the most nutritious ingredients he can for you.

｡･:*˚:✧｡ arno dorian

♡ another one who panics due to childhood trauma: when he sees someone laid on the floor like that, for a moment, that awful memory of his father flashes before his eyes. He's not so good at hiding his concern as Connor is though. The panic is evident in his voice as he calls out to you and dashes to your side.

♡ Arno knows to make sure that you haven't hit your head or anything and he sets your head in his lap while he waits for you to regain consciousness. When your eyes do open again and you look up at him, you'll see teary eyes and shaking hands on him. But he's just relieved you're ok. You'll get a very pointed tongue-lashing from him following by him insisting on making sure you're well-fed and hydrated

｡･:*˚:✧｡ jacob frye

♡ with quick reflexes and his very extroverted personality, Jacob is either fast enough to catch you or surrounded by some Rooks who he can call to so they can break your fall if he's too far. His first worry is that you're overworking yourself so he makes sure you get a break from work

♡ cannot cook to save his life so he's had to go out and order food to bring back for you (or he's begged Evie to cook for which he now owes her many favours) but he insists that you eat and drink well to recover

☾ ⋆ ﾟlike my work? why not: ∘ buy me a coffee? ∘ commission me? ∘ join my taglist ∘ consider following/reblogging

🏷️@gojohater101 @ayameiris4 @veryfancydoilies @asuni921 @writing-noah @danielle-marie @minimisthios @tired-lime @ghostofpolaris @etherealsdreaming @loopycorn1123 @jofie-does-things @havatnah @weasleytwins-41 @firagirl @catou1305 @daddyadler @b3k1720 @asianbutnotjapanese

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reemonna · 2 years ago

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Spending the night with Ratonhnhaké:ton / Connor Kenway

The man is hopelessly in love with your voice and the way you talk, he's totally ready for listening to you talking for hours

Doing some fast hunting challenges for dinner

He takes you with him to some quiet, relaxing spot, where you both can merge with each other and with the calming nature around you without being interrupted

Laying down on your backs, counting sporadic stars like little kids

It pleases him when you call him by his real name, Ratonhnhaké:ton, he loves how it sounds, coming from your mouth

He passionately talks about his childhood memories, and the time he spent with his mom and friends, telling you how much they would've loved you if you were introduced to them

He's very allergic to the simple touch from anyone, indeed. But you're definitely an exception

This means you're able to cuddle, trying to console him -and showing him how ready you're to fully support him and stay by his side- without him protesting or feeling uncomfortable at all

A little sculpt massage would be nice to him, it would have a great effect on him especially when his head is resting on your lap

(NSFW (slight or obvious) / +18)

Even if he's an amateur and probably does it for the first time, he gets to have deep -French- kisses with you

Oh, to see this big boy defending you and getting into fights with animals or bandits with his half naked body is something else. Seeing his shiny bronze skin and his oh-so-appetizing body muscles ripple with every move, the fearful shivers your body make get replased by aroused ones soon enough

Making love among the bushy trees and under the numerous stars? YES. Teaching him how to do it right 'cause he's an innocent baby boy with a heart as pure as an angel's? VERY MUCH YES

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navstuffs · 2 years ago

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ezio auditore x shy!fem!reader ?

Il Dottoressa

Pairing: AC2!Ezio x ShyFem!Reader

Summary: Ezio has a crush on you, the doctor's daughter; or where Ezio gets hurt on purpose to see you.

Warnings: non-canon compliance, non-history compliance (i had to adapt), LONG ONE-SHOT, no description of reader, FLUFF, blood, injuries, italian translated using translator

Author's Notes: hii, thank you so much for requesting <3! i hope you enjoy reading it because i had tons of fun writing it! just a reminder: my requests for ezio are still open! click here for more info!

You should consider yourself a lucky woman. Your father Giuseppe was a man of Science, a doctor who always cared about your well-being and education, especially after your mother's death. He didn't obligate you to wed or have kids like most parents.

For him, for you to carry the family's legacy was to become a doctor. So you did your best to learn as much as possible, in secret. To the rest of society, your father suggested you be portrayed just as his errand daughter. Nobody knew the full extent of your abilities. So you advised treatments, assisted your dad in the shop he had, and turned out to be every child's favorite doctor. They were easier to talk to than most adults. You meet Ezio on your first day alone at the shop. Your dad had to help a patient with an urgent matter in another town and gave you clear instructions on how to proceed.

"They will try to bargain but do not drop the price too much. Let them think they got a deal."

The day went by relatively easy. Two regular clients pass by to get some medicine and talk a little. After a few hours of boredom, you open a book and let your eyes wander through the pages. Your dad may allow you to help with surgery next time if you gather more knowledge. You also needed to focus on having a steady hand...

"Scusi."

Startled by the sudden voice, you held your book close to your chest so it wouldn't fall. When you turn around, you immediately recognize the man: Ezio Auditore. Your dad had alerted you about him: the questionable man with a white robe and hood that always paid the total price. Your dad ordered you not to over-extend the conversation with the strange man. Your attention goes to his arm, where he was holding a torn, bloody sleeve. You don't need to predict he will ask you for a curative. You point to the chair, and Ezio sinks into the chair.

You get some alcohol and some clean cloths. You have no reason to be afraid or nervous; you are in the middle of town, and the man won't do anything. And now, most importantly, he was a patient.

Ignoring your internal concerns, you focused on working. His torn sleeve was soaked with blood, but you no longer saw any blood dropping out of the cut, so you concentrated on cleaning the blood from the injury with alcohol. Like most people, Ezio didn't react to the pain, so you continued. Then you begin to wrap his arm in a bandage. That cut had to be done with a sharp spear.

"Where is the other Signore that stays here?" Ezio asked, his voice sounding tired.

"My father had business somewhere else," You responded, focusing on finishing the bandage. When you are done, you make sure it was all secured. Looked perfect.

"So I won't lose my arm anytime soon, Signorina?" Ezio attempted to joke, giving you a faint smile, and you ignored him. You placed your stuff on the shop's cart and waited as he checked your work.

"Grazie. I haven't seen any women doctors around town. What is your name?"

"It will be 30 florins, Signore."

"Va bene," Ezio put the money in your hand, and you counted. It seems he gave you an extra five florins. He was already gone when you lifted your head, disappearing in the middle of the people. You want to call his name and catch up to him, but you shake your head. He either purposely did that, or it was just a mistake.

After that day, your dad decided you could stay in the shop alone. You were so excited and thrilled. Your dad could now go to another town as a doctor while you cared for his business.

You glow with pride and happiness. You see Ezio Auditore once or twice, jumping around buildings, doing who-knows. He didn't seem to notice you, which you thanked mentally. You had asked your dad what exactly Ezio was doing, and your dad affirmed it was neither your business nor his to know, it just looked dangerous. Ezio only appeared in his shop with parts of his body hurt, cut, bruised, or broken more than the average person. As curious as you are to ask, you understand your dad is done with this conversation.

The next time you see Ezio, he has a dislocated shoulder. You try to give him something to bite, but he shakes his head, gritting his teeth. You want to ask how he got this, but it is not your place. When you pop his shoulder back into place, Ezio grunts. You recommend that he avoid using that shoulder for more vigorous activities. Ezio gives you a half-smile as if he knows something you don't.

"It will be 50 florins this time."

You feel he gives you more florins when he hands you the money.

"You are giving me too much, Signore."

"As a thank you. Can't I do that?"

You don't really know how to respond to that. It is his money. Extra money even. Before you can answer, he grabs your hand and kisses it lightly. You freeze in your spot, unable to move.

"Name is Ezio Auditore. Can you tell me yours?"

It is your first time giving a good look at Ezio Auditore. He seems to have brown hair. He has a scar across his lips, now with what appears to be a naughty smile, which just makes him more charming. He is staring at you, really staring at you. You want to protest, but your voice dies down your throat. You gulp, trying to find something to say, but nothing comes out.

"We shall see each other around, Dottoressa."

And you do end up seeing him, now what it seemed once at least every week. Ezio appears with a horrible bruise on his back and watches, delighted, as you look away, mortified, when he lifts his robe. He appears a few days later with a raspy cough. Then, comes back three days later, alleging he fell to his head and had a horrible headache. You want to ask him if there are no other doctors in town, but hold your tongue. And Ezio was sincerely trying to make you smile and laugh most of the time.

Like when he appeared with a bow attached to his back. You took it out carefully, ensuring you didn't hurt him too much or cause him to die. Besides, you were thankfully thanking his presence at this point: the rate Ezio got injured, he would end up being your first surgery.

"Does it look like I die today, Dottoressa?" He exclaims as you finish cleaning the hole. Why he has to say that in such a sexy way?

"Not today, Signore Auditore."

"Ezio," He corrects you, as the other times, and you roll your eyes, ignoring him. When you are done, Ezio gives you more money than he should.

"I should not go far, probably. I will get hurt and come here for you to repair me." You answer him with a half-smile, too nervous to say anything else. You know he is getting hurt on purpose; he probably knows that as well, and instead of sending him away, you continue seeing him.

"Oh, mhm, I almost forgot," Ezio taps his body, takes out a book, and handles it to you. It seems to be about different kinds of poisons and diseases.

"What is this?"

"For you, Dottoressa. I have seen you read books about it and presumed you would like it."

You are surprised, flipping over the book with care. It looks expensive and updated. That would help you so much with your studies. You couldn't believe Ezio got you something like this.

"Signore Ezio, I can't accept it. "

"Per favore?" Ezio's voice sounds like he imploring, "You have done so much for me. It is the least I can do."

You want to say no and argue that he has already given you more money than he should, but Ezio appears so anxious for your answer. You feel the heavy book in your hands, and your desire gets the best of you. You nod, and Ezio's worried expression turns into a big smile.

"I will see you around, Dottoressa."

"Grazie, Ezio." You finally say when he is too far away to hear it.

After that, your relationship with Ezio got closer. Although you hadn't said your name, he seemed satisfied to watch you flustered when he called you "Mia Dottoressa favorita" or "Il Dottoressa Bella." Or when he continued to bring you more books. When you finally open them at home, they would have different flowers inside.

It wasn't hard to keep all of that hidden from your dad. Your father was out of town almost daily, traveling around Italy. It was also challenging to just not tell Ezio your name. Before, it was for your sense of security, but now, there wasn't much reason to keep it hidden. Ezio was nearly like a friend. Yes, he could be cocky and a little show-off, but he also had a gentle and entertaining side. He could listen to you speak for hours about how crazy the human body could be. He never interrupted you or seemed bored. On the contrary, it was like nothing else existed except for you.

"Are you going to be a Dottoressa at the end?"

"Si, Signore Ezio. Your books are helping me a lot." You confessed, feeling breathless like always when he was around. Gathering all your courage, you finally ask him, "Can I ask you something?"

"Si?" Ezio's gaze looks full of hope.

"You don't have to answer if you don't want to. Why are you always so hurt? Who are you fighting?"

Ezio ponders for a moment before answering.

"For mi familia. I would tell you more, but- " You certainly felt like you shouldn't have asked now. Idiota, you think.

"Well, if that might help you... I am your Dottoressa after all."

"Oh, you are my Dottoressa?" The way he emphasized the word my! You wish a hole had just opened in the ground so that it could eat you as a whole. This was something regular now: Ezio always says or does something to leave you without words. One of those days, you will gather all your courage and do the same to him.

But until then, you are happy that Ezio sticks around. Always afraid he will be one of these days badly hurt, and you won't be around to help him. You could only hope he would always come back to you.

EPILOGUE:

You are almost home when a few guards rush in your direction, screaming and pointing at the sky. With your heart shrinking, you look up, wishing that Ezio is safe tonight. Almost at your door, you hear a loud thumb next to a haystack pile. Looking around and assuring there is no one, you investigate the origin of the noise. To your surprise, you see Ezio badly injured. You run to kneel at his side, checking the extension of his wounds. It doesn't look well.

Merda merda.

"Ezio? Can you hear me?" He is semi-conscious, his eyes struggling to stay open. You can hear more guards getting close. With no choice and all your strength, you pull his body towards the haystack, hiding and praying that the guards won't see the trail of blood behind you.

The guards finally arrive, and your heart bumps against your chest as they investigate everywhere. You feel Ezio's rapid breath as you lightly place your hand on his chest as if keeping you there alive with you.

Ezio moans low, and you bend to his ear, whispering frantically.

"Shhh, I am here, Ezio, it is me. We will be okay."

When the guards finally leave, after what seems to take an eternity, you leave the haystack pile, making sure no one is around. Not hearing anyone, you hurry back to Ezio, attempting to make him fully conscious.

"Ezio, per favore, you have to focus on me. On my voice. We need to get you out of there, we need to bring you inside!"

"Dottoressa?" His voice sounds so weak it just breaks your heart. You hold his cheek, and his skin feels hot. A fever? What if he has been poisoned? You have to get him in your house, but you are afraid to pull him, and he dies, afraid you might be found by the Guards, and he dies.

There is no time for this, Dottoressa. This is your patient, and you better save him.

You pull Ezio's body with your arms to your house entrance. With difficulty, you place him on an old sofa-like, not caring about the mess. With not a lot of options, you rip his destroyed robe and his shirt. At this point, Ezio is shaking with cold, despite his body being extremely hot. You start disinfecting his injuries, checking how bad they are. It doesn't seem that he was punctured. While you clean, you notice the rest of his body for damages. You take his boots out, and with hands shaking, you rip his pants. Praying mentally for no injuries, you cut until his upper thigh. Nothing. Relieved, you focus on his head, letting go of his ponytail. No extensive injuries. Good. You continue cleaning and give him some medicine for his fever, covering his body with a clean sheet.

You let yourself get distracted by how long his hair is. You always theorized it was much shorter. You pass your finger through his hair, and Ezio lets out a long sigh.

You know the following hours will be crucial. Ezio might react badly; you must stay awake if he needs you. If he was poisoned, he might respond during the night. You bring a chair close to Ezio, watching him peacefully sleep. You implore him to survive. You plead for him to be healthy.

When Ezio wakes up in the morning, he is immediately aware of being in a strange house, not a cell. He tries to move, but his body just hurts so much. Last night, when he was on his way to see you with a small cut on his finger, he ended up getting in the middle of a mess. After fighting his way out, he was still followed. Tired and exhausted, he didn't know the extent of his injuries until he passed out and fell from the top of a building.

He examines around, finding you sound asleep in a chair. How he ended up there? Ignoring the pain in his body, Ezio sits down, roaming his eyes through his body. It could have been worse. He lifts the sheet, notices you cut his pants down and chuckles low. That seems to wake you up, and Ezio feels slightly guilty about it.

"Dottoressa?" He calls you. You promptly get up, touching his head and arms to check for any signs of fever. Looks normal. You were glad you didn't choose the leeches last night.

"How are you feeling, Ezio?"

"I am fine, probably thanks to you. How?"

"I heard something falling from a building last night. When I went to check, I saw you badly injured. Had to hide in a haystack while the guards were looking for you. Brought you here and kept an eye on you for the rest of the night."

"How come if you have slept, Dottoressa?" He jokes, and you laugh, glad to see him alive.

"Now I owe you my life. How much is this even going to cost me, Dottoressa? Am I going bankrupt?" Ezio questions in a teasing tone.

"N-no? I am just glad you are alright, Ezio. I was so afraid last night that you were going to di-"

"You saved me, mia bella. Just to prove you should be my particular Dottoressa. Not anybody else's. Mine." He provokes you again, confident that you wouldn't answer.

"Do you want me? To be just yours?" It is funny to watch Ezio lose all the color on his face. For the first time, he is the stunned one, left without an answer, "What happened, Ezio Auditore? Is something wrong with your tongue? Should I check for you?"

You don't know if it is last night's stress or Ezio looking like he is losing his mind, but you laugh until your belly hurts. Ezio is confused at first but smiles, understanding your joke.

"Very good, mia cara. Very good. Joking with my feelings like that. I could have died last night, you know."

Cleaning the tears in the corner of your eyes, you pull your chair close to his. Ezio observes, curious, while you grab and hold his hand into yours.

"I wasn't joking when I said I could be yours."

Your confession makes Ezio's mouth drop slightly, but he quickly recomposes himself. He cleans his throat, with his other free hand calling you closer. You get up from the chair, your legs shaking, and he starts by caressing your chin. You close your eyes, and Ezio follows his touch to your cheeks and lips. He traces your lips with his fingers, admiring you as the most beautiful piece of art he has ever seen.

You melt in his arms when he brings you closer and finally kisses you. Holding into his shoulder gently, you kiss him back, letting yourself fully stroke his hair. Ezio's hands are placed on your cheeks. When you two finally break apart, you are both breathless, wishing for more. Your heart, your soul, asks for more.

"Dottoressa.."

You shake your head, smiling, and finally tell Ezio your name.

MASTERLIST | EZIO'S MASTERLIST

#ezio auditore x you #ezio auditore x reader #ezio x reader #ezio x you #ezio auditore da firenze x reader #ezio auditore da firenze x you #assassins creed x reader #im happy with how this one turned out #i hope i nailed the shyness and i hope anon likes this!#asks #ask #requests

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