#Ezio Auditore x reader

[seviiul]

𝒏𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒊 𝒊𝒏 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒔

𝐎𝐕��𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖 :: ( general scenarios ) "How do the main assassins work around the fact that (S/o) practices the language of flowers?"

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 :: ( assassin's creed ) Altaïr, Ezio, Ratonhnhaké:ton/Connor, Edward, Arno, Jacob, Evie, m!Eivor; gender neutral reader

𝐁𝐄𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐄 :: none; unless you're afraid of flora(..?)

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄 :: For one this had MANY rewrites because I wanted to keep it short enough while still covering all the main points(?). Also, there are SO many meanings to flowers out there — but for the sake of fiction we're only going to include the romantic aspects that I got arharharh enjoy

ALTAÏR

There was some initial.. indifference, towards flowers in general as they weren't much of importance in his line of work— that is unless someone manages to conjure a flower species directly related to Pieces of Eden. But regardless, if he was to do something with flowers, it would be rather difficult to grow them up in sweet old Masyaf unless they're specifically adapted to grow in harsh, mountainous climates.

And yet somehow (S/o) still managed to integrate the special tongue into the two’s relationship, having to endure Altaïr’s initial confusion at the bouquets and dried flowers they had along, and then his reasoning on why he doesn't see the need behind using them. BUT he eventually got the gist that this wasn't about practicality. Just affection.

After having skimmed through all kinds of meanings behind flowers the both of them could get hands on, next to his trial and error on understanding the language (and his instances of messaging an insult at you on accident), it had become this almost regular exchange of Damascus Jasmines: a sign of love, with an additional statement of how they feel home with each other.

EZIO

It's no surprise that he would know that there is meaning behind flowers — look how roses came to be the symbols of love and Aphrodite! And for years he has gifted them to women as a show of his interest and a way to woo them into an interaction with him. That also applied to meeting his now beloved. So it wasn't difficult for (S/o) to introduce more flowers; more different ways to arrange them; the vast range of meanings each of the flowers carry and how they can vary from place to place—

Getting back to roses, as classic as they are, he didn't want to exchange any with (S/o) the more committed their relationship became. He has seen the potential other flowers carry and what definition his beloved had given to a bouquet of varying flowers as means of conveying a message. Roses can be defined as love and passion by the flower language, but everybody knows that. In a way, they are too generic for him to show what (S/o) means to him. He's dissatisfied. He wants to do something different, especially per the encouragement of (S/o) to experiment.

So he sticks to sending sunflowers: as easy as they are to cultivate in Italy, they mean happiness, longevity, and loyalty, always arriving into the hands of his love as yellow and orange as the radiance of the burning Sun.

RATONHNHAKÉ:TON

He had once put in the work to get flowers so a friend had some for his courting, but to be frank he hadn't used the flowers in any decorative way after that; mostly making use of them as herbal medicine or spice or flower-based tea. So when (S/o) introduced flower arrangement and meanings behind flowers, he wasn't shy to point out how they also benefit them both in their endeavors.

Although it was pretty evident his beloved struggled with self-satisfaction in terms of how the flowers are: they were pretty used to working with much more colorful and unique flowers, but it felt like Colonial America has it all too bland. It wasn't like they could just get more vibrant flowers from Europe either, especially with how pricey it was to deliver them and how long it took to arrive!

So he resorted to finding what local flora North America has which (S/o) has pointed out: Black-Eyed Susans; Honeysuckles; Vervains, and else. The ones he doesn't recognize make him wonder just what meaning they have, and what are their names (a rare occurrence)

But in terms of what flowers he'd present, he had traveled West to acquire seeds in an attempt to grow Columbines in the Homestead, particularly to gift them in compositions of three: an arrangement having come to mean faith, hope, and love.

EDWARD

Now as much as he has gifted flowers to people dear to him— like his daughter and so— one cannot deny he does NOT give much of a fuck about flowers unless they are mighty expensive to grow, let alone to get hands on. Because, you know.. pai-ruh-see 🏴‍☠️

So it wasn't a surprise when he looked at (S/o) funny when they were picky about their (albeit limited) flower choice when they once traded in Nassau. And as much as he was hearing out their reasoning, he briefly had a headache trying to wrap his head around all this new information on what can this flora stand for and what message can that flower convey. He usually just went for what looks pretty and his person of choice might like and that's it.

Although a question did arise that could aquatic plants have any kind of meanings applied to them — so at times he comes across water streams and picks up a Calla Lily or a Lotus to hand (S/o) when he sees them – and from there he’d get a yet another headache that colors of the petals are a factor in definition as well.

He’d take note how land flowers are incredibly vibrant as well, at least in the islands of the Caribbean he traverses in; ranging from the pink Hibiscuses to Barbados Lilies. His first choice, though, out of all of them is to gift his beloved yellow bells – a shrub flower, yes, but their trumpet-like blossoms symbolize joy, new beginnings, and promises of happiness: something that he strives to achieve for the both of them.

ARNO

He is pretty aware that flowers have an importance in courting people; also that roses are very often used in that process: I mean, what kind of a City of Romance would Paris be if roses weren’t a commonplace?

Although when it came to his (S/o), flowers weren’t at first only a subject of courting: with their vast knowledge on flowers in the first place, Arno also made some use of it within his salon. Certain flowers had come to resemble the fleeting seasons, and also an incoming holiday if there was one: French Daisies had decorated the tables of Café Théâtre at the start of spring to resemble this new season; Daffodils are always set out around St. Patrick’s Day to symbolize good luck; and Panicle Hydrangeas are placed in celebration of autumn. And hey they also had come to be useful in the kitchen, as the herbs (S/o) provided added to the dishes and also included new items into the menu, now having flower-based teas and all, like lavender and chamomile.

What he does with their flower language can entirely vary from the events that he went through. If we only look at before tragedy, he could put much work into what flower bouquets he’d gift to (S/o), and he’d have no problem with making them either as subtle or grand as he wanted them to be. Next to the obvious choice of roses, there were times he’d gift his lover daisies, the particularly blue ones resembling long-term commitment and trust. He can’t ask much from them or crack a joke wondering when will he get a flower or a few: he can simply embrace them, and he’d receive the comforting smell of so many flowers that he might get dizzy.

JACOB

He's heard of the flower language, but he doesn't use it: at least not the way one would expect in the Victorian Era, a time when flower language was in fact standardized as public affection was frowned upon.

As much as (S/o) does put care into their flowers of choice, they mostly do it as a purpose of gifting. Jacob, however, has started to use it as means of conveying a message or information, a certain arrangement of varying flowers being capable of carrying on much about anything if done right: it can look silly, yes, but because of how common the language of flora is at the time, he's aware he can use it to his advantage.

.. He and his beloved may and may not also use it to entertain themselves: just to rouse a reaction out of unknowing spectators, they give, they toss, they full on throw bouquets at each other with a vast range of meanings behind each; one time making a show of absolute devotion to one another, and the other conveying disgust, initiating an emotional rollercoaster out of bystanders: all while the culprits disappear behind a corner while cackling together.

But sometimes, aside the Assassin duties and their shared antics, Jacob just prefers to hear what (S/o) has to say about a flower or so, occasionally coming from a patrol to sit down with a couple flowers and hear what they mean, much to the delight of his beloved. Or he comes to embrace them from behind, holding a precious flora as a means of apology for leading a Blighter to their doorstep when he was chased by one.

He also likes to put in the work sometimes to cut from the stem a little and make sure the flower bud sits behind (S/o)’s ear, being able watch them laugh and try to improve its placement. His favourite choice is flowers from heliotropes; standing for heartfelt adoration he has for them.

EVIE

Oh she knows really well about the language; she likely has had occasional exchanges or one sided confessions with these bouquets after all. It's just that she hasn't been able to incorporate it much to her life the busier she came with the London Assassin Brotherhood.

It's probable that she'd take on delivering information via flora as well: as commonplace the flower tongue is, it would be hard to suspect anything about them. Although there's doubt that she'd do those arrangements just for the purpose of aesthetics. It's appealing to see (S/o) do so, however, having gained a first impression on that outside London with an arrangement of Cornflowers, Chamomiles, and some Wheat: no, it did not have any meaning behind this bunch of petals.

There was this brief idea that a flower shop would make it easier for her beloved to do what they love; becoming a full time florist and regularly being able to put in their work. But by the words of (S/o), she had to realize them practicing the language of flowers in pursuit of profit would only drain them, losing the passion for in the process.

So by agreement they only stick to sending information to cooperators, and also sharing a private kiss while giving each other a pair of white and red chrysanthemums, white meaning loyalty and red meaning joy and love.

EIVOR

HERBS. That's his knowledge on flowers summarized. He has made tea out of them to warm his body in colder days; he has collected them by the request of the Seer and villagers in need; he has used them as means of medicine as well.

Eivor would have (S/o) tell him the advantages of, or at least identify, unrecognizable flora in their travels to England — obviously to end up not ingesting something poisonous, not wanting to do what could've been so easily prevented.

He did become intrigued over his lover’s particular interest in flowers, especially the supposed meaning behind them. It wouldn't be surprising to see him return to Ravensthorpe with some herbs, having picked out a certain flower he saw on the way and hear out what it stands for. And of course from there he received the shock of how varying their meanings can be, having recalled the same flower having a completely different symbolism back in Norway.

He more regularly, if given the opportunity, comes back with a small bundle of snowdrops, symbolizing hope, new beginnings, and the overcoming challenges, the beginnings parts being especially suitable for the springtime they bloom in.

© SEVIIUL do not plagiarize, steal, use for AI, repost on another platform.

[howtotrainabraincell]

Head Cannon bc I can - What kinds affectionate the different assassins would be - Part 1

Ezio Auditore da Firenze - The Lover of Love. Family man very affectionate/grew up in a loving closely knit family/family oriented/notices little things/sweetheart with a side of spice/he reminds me of the hot tamale candy lol spicy AND sweet at the same time bc he can be a cinnamon roll one second and then become the oven that you PUT the cinnamon roll IN. He seems like he would play the lute for you the few chords that he learned when he was younger that is, and he MIGHT sing but don't count on it haha. Man wrote some real nice letters when he was older so I bet he would try his hand at love letters no matter which Ezio you prefer, and they would be sweet. Loves to give hand kisses whether they be sweet or steamy. Often comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you in a hug, and imo LOVES it when you rake your fingers through his hair gently scratching his scalp. Would instantly be down bad for someone who cooks Italian food for him because it makes him feel loved and cared for.

Bayek of Siwa - The Kind Lover. Proud affection/"look at how awesome my partner is I worship the ground they walk on"/offers an arm for escort/is not afraid to hold your hand/great at letting people know where they stand and setting boundaries so no one will be confused about who he has feelings for. Very attentive and notices the little things/can kick ass and then some but is so gentle and sweet with the one he loves (no one touches a hair on their head or disturbs the air around them or so help him Anubis...) /great at communicating and is not afraid to talk about feelings. Have a feeling that he enjoys fresh baked bread and anything sweet he can get his hands on, and also loves to share them with his love. NO ONE can tell me that he doesn't take good care of the person he loves because man is a sweetheart protector and dang good provider. Forehead kisses are a big thing with him, where he gently cradles your head to do so, and lots of eye contact when he tells you that he loves you.

Edward Kenway - The Cheeky Pirate. sexual tension/handsy and cheeky but will stop if you're uncomfy/he knows when to behave/won't hesitate to smooch you to the ninth realm and back if someone looks at you like they want you/ have a feeling that he is BIG TIME into holding his partner in front of him at the wheel and steering the Jackdaw (letting them drive but not really)/spoils his loved one rotten any chance he gets (even if it is stolen lol)/will probably make you his co-co-captain alongside Adewale.

Ratonhnhake:ton/Connor Kenway- The Respectful Lover. Not really one for PDA but you'll know that you're loved by him/does gush about you to people from his tribe and everyone at the Homestead knows he's DOWN BAAADD (the tribe elders have predicted a wedding date lol bc they know that he'll marry you. Definitely teaches self-defense and fall in love 5,000 times harder if they made an attempt to learn Kanien'keha/if they love animals and nature, he again will worship the air they breathe. If you cook for him especially recipes from his tribe, he'll probably get emotional because they remind him of home, and he would be head over heels in love with someone who was open to learning about where he comes from and the ways of his people. If you defend him when someone is rude to him (despite being well able to defend himself as we all know) he will feel protected and loved, which he's rarely felt in his life since his mother.

Jacob Ethan Frye - The Sweetheart. Makes his partner feel valued ESPECIALLY as a woman because he's not a typical 19th century man who's all "women's place is in the home having babies and cooking and cleaning". He WILL LISTEN TO YOU and also put great faith in your opinion/cheeky and very flirtatious/can get flustered if partner matches his energy though lol/ something tells me this man LOVES and is WHIPPED for domesticity he's had a crazy, dangerous life with too many near death experiences to count at only 21 years old and while he would still be the chaotic cinnamon roll you fell in love with the Rooks and fight club and all he would love to come home to peace and calmness. If you cook/bake for him he will literally turn into a bottomless pit he LOVES IT though it will sometimes start sibling squabbles between him and his older sister because she loves your cooking too haha. Also teaches self-defense but will get flirty with you real quick so it's probably best to learn from Evie lol. VERY genuine and he means every loving word he says and every touch he gives. Protective of you and will throw hands if someone disrespects you. He also loves to make you laugh and tell.me.WHY I am so dang sure that he LOVES it when you play with his hair especially if you scratch your fingers lightly against his jaw and the scratchy whiskers he has there.

Desmond Miles - The Lonely One. Proud as well/total gentleman with sexy swagger lol/loves to take you out on his motorcycle/loves it when you come visit him at work because he'll be doing his job and look over to see you which makes him instantly happy/TOTALLY shows off his bartending skills and winks at you while doing it being a total flirt/ love language without a doubt is quality time and physical touch. Man is VERY affectionate imo because he's touched starved and most likely lonely (even with the Animus he still wants you because you comfort him). If you defend him from Shaun when he's being annoying or pushing him too much or clap back at the male half of his DNA, he will literally love you forever. Man is FERAL for a significant other that will defend him and care for him the way he wasn't all those years alone.

Altair Ibn La'Ahad - The Reserved Soldier...who's Smitten. Doesn't do PDA most that might happen is an arm offered for an escort or a hand on the waist to push you behind him/will kiss you on the cheek before he goes off on missions the same way he does the rest of the members of the Brotherhood (even if you're not part of it) while saying to you in Arabic "Safety and Peace my darling". Shows affection by smirking at you when you're flustered and acting as your intimidating AF bodyguard/in private tho...he's very amorous and loves having physical contact with his partner. Totally the type to lie there and rest with them or lazily kiss and hug. Not averse to showing that he loves you in public or declaring his love because he does love you very much, he just wants to protect your honor and avoid anyone (read: MALIK) heckling/harassing the both of you about being lovers. You are for his eyes and his eyes only whether it be hand holding, kissing, or various other things that he often thinks about...

Arno Victor Dorian - The Hopeless Romantic. Very affectionate also from being lonely and touch starved/not afraid to show his love for you in public. He DEFINITELY writes you love letters that are just - SIGH. He has a way with words and just pours everything into the letters he writes you, what he loves about you and why, how much you mean to him, how he would do anything for you. He's a hopeless romantic and when he falls in love he falls HARD and gives the one he loves everything (cue traumatic flashbacks of a certain ex-now deceased red haired lover of his). I think he would be SO in love with someone who noticed the little things about him and took care of those things. If he's sleep deprived? You let him sleep in and fix him breakfast in bed. If he's lonely while working? You sit with him wherever he is and read/ write/look out the window and watch Paris silently comforting him with just your presence. If he forgets to eat? You fixing him something delicious to eat and bringing it to him giving him a kiss and words of encouragement. Bringing him tea/water/coffee/hot chocolate while he's working. Would definitely spoil you with treats from the Cafe and if you work there, he'll drop by every so often to give you a sweet quick kiss. I think he would also show affection by helping you get ready in the morning and take this the way you wish...but he's really good with corset laces, buttons, and layers upon layers of fabric. He's thoughtful and sweet taking time to think about you (even though he barely thinks about himself). Will legit protect you with his life he refuses to lose you and will do anything to keep you safe. He loves to have slow relaxing days with you to have a moment away from his normally stressful life. You pulling him away from his work for distraction or holding him when the Council annoys him is always welcome. You will definitely know that he loves you with everything that he has.

[omgrachwrites]

High Adventure - Ezio Auditore

Pairing: Ezio Auditore x Reader

Summary: When you hear the news of your awful fiance's death, you travel to Tuscany to meet the man that took his life, and saved yours in return.

Warnings: fluff, angst, mentions of abuse, mentions of death

Words: 1379

Translations: Nipote - Nephew

Buon pomeriggio - Good Afternoon

A/N: So, this is just a short little something I cooked up when I was playing AC II, I am so sorry if I've butchered Ezio's character, and I'm so sorry if the Italian is wrong! Please let me know what you think please enjoy, I love you all! xxx

It was a beautiful day in Firenze, or at least that was what it looked like from the intricately designed windows of your families’ grand house. With a small sigh and a longing look, you gazed out the window at the endless blue sky. You ached for the days when you could walk the streets of the beautiful city until your heart was content. Now, you hardly had a moment to yourself, you were either with your fiancé or you were preparing from your wedding.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw your mother glance over at you with a small smile. You wondered if she knew that you had been sneaking out of the city in the early hours of the evening and returning in the morning before anyone had awoken. You needed to learn how to protect yourself, your future husband was a tyrant. But no, your mother couldn’t know, if she’d even had the smallest inkling then you would be locked in the tower until your wedding day.

“Y/N?” your father called from the hallway, startling you out of your daydream.

“Papa? Is everything alright?” you asked, getting to your feet right away.

Your father’s eyes were soft and sympathetic, and his hair was dishevelled like he’d been running his fingers through it, “no, everything is not alright. I need to speak with you.”

Your mother almost got to her feet but your father stopped her with a wave of his hand, “just Y/N and I.”

You thought it was odd but you didn’t comment on it as you followed your father out of the room. He paced up and down the length of the hallway, looking distressed before he finally glanced up at you.

“I don’t know of a kinder way to say it, but,” he hesitated, taking a deep breath, “Vieri is dead.”

Your stomach jolted and your heart leapt for joy – as awful as it sounded. You were free, you didn’t have to marry the monster who had torn your innocence from you so cruelly, “what?” you gasped, you were so shocked that somebody had managed to kill him. The Pazzi had always seemed so invincible, “who killed him?”

Your father rested a hand on your cheek, “it was Mario Auditore.”

You fought hard to keep your face neutral, Mario Auditore had been the one teaching you how to fight, Mario was the only one who knew what Vieri had done to you. You also knew that the Pazzi had killed his brother and two of his three nephews. Though, you hadn’t been training with Mario of late, he’d been much too busy with his nephew, who you’d never met.

“I’m so sorry, my darling,” your father tried to pull you into his arms but you held him back. You had to go to the villa in Tuscany.

“I’m sorry, Papa but I just need some time alone,” without waiting for an answer, you ran out of the house and into the warm sunlit streets.

You couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your lips as you ran through the streets, not giving a care about the looks you were getting from strangers. You felt free, for the first time in about a year, you felt well and truly free. You didn’t stop running until you reached the stables and with burning legs, you mounted a chestnut horse and rode all the way to Tuscany.

As you reached the villa, you all but vaulted off the horse and ran into the town, you got a lovely surprise as you walked through the town. The town was much more lively and some of the crumbling buildings had been renovated, it was clear that Mario’s nephew had helped to restore them.

As you walked through the courtyard, you nodded a greeting to one of Mario’s associates and noticed that he was speaking with a very handsome man. You found Mario in his study as usual and as soon as you saw him, you couldn’t help but call out to him.

“You did it, Mario! You killed, Vieri!” the older, weathered man smiled at you kindly as he shook his head, his eyes twinkling,

“I wish that I had delivered the final blow but I’m afraid that honour belongs to my nipote, Ezio,” he gestured at something over your shoulder.

With a raised eyebrow, you turned around and found yourself face to face with the handsome man that you had seen in the courtyard. Ezio was very handsome with warm eyes and there was a scar down his lip and you vaguely wondered how he got it.

“Buon pomeriggio,” Ezio grinned as he lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a small kiss to the top of it as he kept eye contact with you. You just knew that he was a favourite of the ladies.

“Ezio, this is Y/N Y/L/N,” Mario started, “she was intended to be Vieri de’ Pazzi’s bride.”

At once, the smile on Ezio’s face dropped and he looked down at the floor as a muscle fluttered in his jaw and you didn’t miss the deep look of guilt that flashed across his face, “I am sorry for your loss.”

With a smile, you cupped his rough jaw and he looked at you, there was some sort of wounded look in his eyes, “you killed him, thank you, you saved my life,” you whispered before you pulled him into a hug, resting your cheek against his chest, listening to the deep thump of his heart. You felt his body tense before he relaxed and he wrapped his arms around you.

Mario cleared his throat which forced you and Ezio away from each other, you gave each other sheepish smiles as Mario chuckled, “how about you show Y/N around the new and improved town?”

“Of course, Uncle,” Ezio bowed his head and offered you his arm, “shall we?” he grinned cheekily, raising an eyebrow.

You giggled as you placed your arm in Ezio’s, “lead the way.”

The blazing sun was high in the cloudless sky, casting the villa and the town in a golden light, it looked so beautiful. You were worried about who your parents were going to push you to marry but that was a worry for another day, golden afternoons shouldn’t be spent plagued with worries.

“I’m so sorry for the loss of your father and brothers, Ezio,” you sighed as you looked up at his handsome profile.

With a sigh, he ran a hand through his long dark hair before he offered you a small smile, the edges of his eyes crinkling, “thank you, I miss them very much. But, with Vieri dead my soul can rest a little easier. Though, my work is far from over in fact, it’s only just begun.”

You smiled as you could hear children playing in the distance and you could smell the growing fruit in the nearby villages, “I think you’re doing the whole world a service.”

Ezio grinned and ducked his head but you could still see his blush, “so why are you happy that Vieri is dead? Was he awful to you?”

You bit your lip as you almost felt a dark shadow settle over the both of you and you almost shuddered at the awful memories, “he was awful, as awful as you could ever imagine a man to be.”

Ezio pulled his arm from yours and rested his hand on the small of your back, rubbing his thumb in comforting circles, “I am so sorry.”

You forced a smile as you looked at the assassin, “it’s all over with now isn’t it. Though, I’m worried about who my parents will pick next for a suitor,” you sighed.

Ezio looked pensive as you passed by a giggling group of whores, “why don’t you come with me on my journey?”

You almost laughed out loud, you had hardly been out of Tuscany but you couldn’t go with a perfect stranger, no matter how much the thrill of adventure called you, “we’ve known each other for all of five minutes.”

Ezio shrugged, “just think about it, Y/N.”

“I will, I will think about it, Ezio Auditore,” you might have sounded crazy but you were ready for a high adventure.

[demigoddessqueens]

Oh my god, I just realized you still write for assassin’s creed! What a beautiful day

Can I get headcanons about Ezio with an artist s/o? Maybe SFW and NSFW especially if the artist s/o asks to paint him nude one day

I write for AC and so much more!! 😌😉 good to be back!

Masterlist 12

SFW

Is always coming over to your study in a not so subtle manner to see you and your work

Super ADHD in that he can’t keep still and always wants to see how you’re drawing him and if he looks good (for you 😉)

Wants to take a crack at drawing and art too because he wants to draw

“Mia bella, you outshine all the other artists!”

NSFW

So feels safe to say he would absolutely be confident in showing off his body to you!!

Entirely naked if you’re doing nude portraits

of course he wants to extend the favor to you, sketching you in all types of ways

“A true god/goddess….none are as pretty as you”

May or may not have a whole sketchbook of you two in “compromising” positions

[kiatheinsomniac]

𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍'𝐒 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐒:

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  queue name: resting in the café theatre

✧ 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧'𝐬 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐈 ✧ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐳𝐢𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ✧ 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧'𝐬 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐈𝐈𝐈 ✧ 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧'𝐬 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐈𝐕: 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐠 ✧ 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧'𝐬 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝: 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 ✧ 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧'𝐬 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝: 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲 ✧ 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧'𝐬 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝: 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 ✧ 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧'𝐬 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝: 𝐨𝐝𝐲𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐲 ✧ 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧'𝐬 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝: 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚

⊹₊ liked it? why not: ∘ buy me a coffee? ∘ comms. ∘ taglist ∘ follow/reblog

[navstuffs]

Carnevale

Pairing: Brotherhood!Ezio Auditore x GN!Reader

Summary: You and Ezio have some fun in a dark alley in Venezia during Carnevale.

Warnings: my own attempt at writing filth, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, semi-public-sex, no use of y/n, reader is horny asf

Authors's Note: ITS CARNAVAL!! as brazilian, i dont think i can ever miss writing about Carnaval/Carnivàle/Carnevale/Carnival lol i decided to attempt writing smut bc this idea came to me while i was watching ppl celebrate plus my current obsession with ezio. hope you enjoy reading!

"Ssshhh..."

The whisper in your ear from the hooded man produces more chills in your skin than the cold night in Venezia. You know you have to stay quiet, but the moans coming out of your mouth get louder as Ezio's presses against you, biting your earlobe gently. You both had been waiting for this, you both have been desiring this for so long, it is just hard to keep shut.

"Sshhh..."

"Ezio..."

"I know, I know."

You notice the light of the fireworks occasionally exploding in the sky. You hear people celebrating, a lot of them too inebriated to care about another couple in a dark alley. No one could imagine Master Assassin Ezio Auditore is about to fuck a member of his own Brotherhood in the middle of Venice during Carnevale.

His hand grabs one of your legs, pulling it up and you are fully conscious of Ezio's erection rubbing deliciously against your crotch. Before you can moan again, he covers your mouth with his free hand. Instead of feeling insulted, your arousal grows even stronger. You rub against him in response and Ezio growls low.

Oh, that way you definitely wouldn't last and your pants were still on! Ezio seems to understand that, debating mentally if he should really continue in the middle of a dirty alley. He didn't want his first time with you to be so gross. To his response, you start taking your pants down.

"Are you sure?" He wonders while you nod, making sure he sees the assurance in your eyes. Or the urgency.

You had never been more sure of anything in your life. You wouldn't wait for another day of silly flirting, another day of secret kisses, another day of that sexual tension you had since you met him. You could see he desired you as much as you wanted him. It had to be here and now.

Your pants fall down and Ezio's eyes follow. You laugh internally watching him get almost hypnotized. His hand in your mouth traces your lips and you respond by sucking his fingers. Since you met Ezio he always kept himself calm and collected and now, you want to see him lose all control. That same hand makes its way down from your chest, rubbing one of your hard nipples. His hands continue going down as Ezio starts to kneel in front of you.

"You have to promise you will try to keep yourself quiet."

Without much choice, you nod. You feel Ezio's breath near your sex, making you tremble. The only thing keeping you standing up now is him and the wall. With your vision hazy, one of your hands grabs Ezio's hood down, as another goes straight to his hair, your body shaking with anticipation.

"Remember the promise," Ezio whispers, before giving you one slow and torturous lick. As if you need more tease coming from you.

"Bastardi," You mutter, biting your lips to keep yourself from moaning. You couldn't wait to pay him back. It was going to be a long night.

MASTERLIST

[yasashii-leaf]

Ezio Auditore protective and sticky

[fandom-smutty-shots]

The assassins kissing their s/o for the first time

Request

Masterlist

| ~ * ~ * ~ |

Characters: Altaïr, Ezio, Edward, Arno, Jacob, Evie, and Basim

Warnings: Maybe a little suggestive content?

| ~ * ~ * ~ |

Altaïr Ibn-LaʼAhad

Altair would be so shy.

I mean, he knows what he's doing, of course, he's been married before, but that was why he was so afraid to show you he cared.

He would put his finger under your chin and lean in carefully, giving you a gentle but dazing kiss before letting you go with a goodnight.

You both couldn't wait to do that again.

Ezio Auditore da Firenze

He'd be teasing you first. He'd have his arm against the wall with you backed up, leaning down on you with that smug smile.

He'd whisper Italian in your ear, his hot breath sending tingles down your spine before he moved, painfully slowly, to your lips, hovering over you as you looked into his eyes with desperation.

Finally, he'd tug you in, one hand in your hair and the other on your waist as he crashed into you, moving so fast your head spun.

You were breathless by the time he pulled away, your gasps filling the otherwise silent air.

"You think I'm good at kissing, mi amore? I have so many other things to teach you."

Edward Kenway

Man, Edward would sweep you off your feet with your first date and kiss.

You would be so in love so fast you won't know what hit you. He would kiss you so passionately, pushing you up against something and cupping both sides of your face while your hands roamed his back.

It would last minutes before he finally broke it off, stepping away with his final words.

"You look beautiful tonight, (Y/n). Just in case you I didn't make that clear."

He had made it pretty clear.

Arno Dorian

He'd take you out for a nice dinner before walking you home, holding your arm as he escorted you

He'd give you a gentle goodnight kiss, just a simple peck to remember him.

And a promise to be back to take you out again.

Jacob Frye

Your date had been... interesting at best. The food was bland, the drinks were watery, and the conversation was forced.

You didn't know what had gone wrong. You had great chemistry when you first met, but the dinner had just been... awkward.

Just as you were ready for a hole in the ground to open up and swallow you, Jacob stopped in his tracks and turned to face you.

He leaned in and gently pressed his lips to yours, moving slowly and confidently as your eyes fluttered closed and you eased into his arms. It lasted minutes, just the two of you in your own world away from everyone else.

It was perfect.

Evie Frye

She'd take you out for a day around town, chatting you up and showing you a good time.

Finally, she'd sit you down, lean in slowly, and hold the back of your head before devouring you. She'd kiss you hard and deep, filling you with every bit of want she had for you.

Basim Ibn Ishaq

Basim had been injured, and you had been watching over him for the days he had been healing.

He was finally moving around, although slowly, and you were pretty sure he was still in pain.

But that didn't stop him from placing the ghost of a kiss on your lips as you helped to tuck him in one night, his lips barely tracing over yours as he thanked you, in his own, sweet way.

You hoped he'd thank you again.

[elfven-blog]

Make me a Daddy

Summary: You tell Ezio you want a baby, he makes sure it takes.

Ezio x F!Reader CW: MDNI, 18+ Only, p in v, eating out, breeding. Word count: 1.1K

It was like a switch had flipped in his head the moment you had spoken those magical words. So many hours in your day now spent with your husband between your legs, just as you were now.

Your thighs thrown over his shoulders, his beard scratching at the sensitive skin between your thighs, his tongue flattening as his nose nudged against your puffy clit causing you to whine. Your hands tugging at his salt and pepper hair, only serving to pull his face impossibly closer until his tongue worked its way into your fluttering hole. His own hands gently squeezing and massaging the fat of your thighs.

Ezio had been at this for what felt like hours, drawing orgasm after orgasm from you and making you a mess on your shared bed. Your bottom lip trembled as he worked you towards another high, thighs squeezing around his head as you tried to push him away but the older man’s hands moved to grab your own and he pushed your thighs off his shoulders so that he could keep you pinned down with his body weight instead.

“Stop moving” he voice vibrated through your cunt, ripping another whine from you at the feeling. All the while his tongue is still lapping at your soaked pussy, your eyes barely able to stay open as he pulls another orgasm from you. Your body shaking and hips jerking at the feeling. “Fuck, that’s a good girl, amore”

Satisfied with this, Ezio pulled away. What a sight he was, his beard dripping with the hours worth of arousal and juices he had earned. His hands gently massaging up from your legs to your hips and sides “‘M sorry, princessa. You just taste too good” He slowly kissed his way up your body.

Leaving you painted in marks as he went, your hands clenching at the sheets as you tried to clear your mind but the way he’d spent so long tasting you had your mind cloudy. “Don’t worry, I’ll give you a reward, sweet girl” One of his hands moved to pull your leg up and back over his shoulder, his mouth trailing kisses along your neck and shoulder.

He grinned against your skin as he felt you arch, gasping as the head of his fat cock pressed against your hole. He shushed you gently as he pressed more kisses to your skin, his hand resting in the crook of your knee to keep your leg there as he stretched you open. Ezio waited only moments for you to get used to his size again before his hips were moving, the older man rutting into you at a slow teasing pace.

He only sped up once your arms wrapped around him, nails digging into the skin of his back in that way he loved so much. His teeth scraping against your neck as he fucked you, his other hand moving to grope your breast, thumb rubbing over your nipple until it had hardened into a peak “Gonna make me a daddy, pretty girl? That what you want?”

You could only whimper and whine in response, breathing coming out as pants and cunt squeezing around his cock causing his hips to stutter in their pace “That’s a good girl” he whispered in your ear. Those same fingers pinched your nipple so he could watch the way your bottom lip trembled, his own eyes fluttering shut with every throb of your hole around him.

He moved off your body, hips not stopping in their rutting against you as he unwound your arms from around him, smiling as you whined at him for the action and clasped your own hands around your knees to keep you in that position. His hand gripping the headboard as he rolled his hips against you, the sound of skin smacking filling the room with every thrust. 

His other hand dimpled the bottom of your thigh as he used it to keep you still as every time his cock drove into you, you’d move up the bed even more. Ezio couldn’t keep his eyes off you, watching the way your tits bounced slightly every time he thrust, your eyes unable to focus and fluttering constantly or how you couldn’t seem to decide between biting your lip with a moan, or letting it drop open with a gasp.

If he was any less of a gentleman he would invite Leonardo to come and paint you in this moment, he was no longer Catholic but he’d worship the ground you walked in all of his waking moments. 

His hand slipped down from its place on your thigh, his thumb finding your neglected clit and beginning to circle. It felt like lightning through your body, your legs tensing up as that familiar coil tightened in your body and your eyes rolled back as you arched. You were more sensitive after he’d spent so long between your thighs maybe that’s why tears trailed down your cheeks and your mouth opened in a silent cry as your orgasm peaked.

The mess on the sheets worse now as you gush around his cock,slick soaking Ezio’s cock and dripping to the bed below. Ezio’s own eyes rolled as he practically fell back on top of you, his weight pinning you to the bed as he humped at your cunt. Grunts and groans filling your ears like the sound of an orchestra, his beard tickled the skin of your neck and shoulder as he buried his face into the skin. 

You whined as you felt raw and sore from how he continued to push impossibly close to you. His arms falling from the headboard so he could wrap them around you, pulling you even closer and your legs shake from the overstimulation. “Fottere! Take it, princessa, take it!”  The man’s hips still as his cock twitches and fills you with hot ropes of cum, a low groan slipping from his mouth as you both lay still, breathing heavily from the exhaustion.

Your hand moves to stroke through his hair, nails scraping his scalp in that way that makes him moan and your brow furrows when he doesn’t move out of you. “Are we not finished?”

Ezio grins at your question, lifting his head as he presses a kiss to your cheek and his hands move to hold his weight above you again “Did you not say you wanted me child?” his hips began to move again, his eyes sparkling with something as he watched your own widen at the realisation that he had yet to go soft “It is best to go multiple times…to make sure it takes, no?”

[yourinnerdemon]

Just because you don't like seeing the smut doesn't mean everyone else has to hide it 😭

I’m not asking them to hide it??? I’m asking them to put a few tags as warning’s????

[teecupangel]

What if Revelations Ezio dated a woman while he was in Istanbul who was a belly dancer had 2 teenage boys who didn't like him because their real dad would abuse their mom which is why they're very protective of her. How would he win them over?

According to wiki, the most accurate thing we can do is make the woman be a Romani who learned this from Egyptians musicians and dancers who were in Constantinople at the time.

If she and her sons are Romani then Ezio’s in for a bit of trouble as his sons wouldn’t trust Ezio as far as they could throw him, not just because of what their biological father had done but because of the socio-political standing of the Romanis in Constantinople during that time.

The best Ezio could do would be to show his sincerity with his actions and help the Romanis out any way he can (which he did do in canon if we consider the 100% sync to be canon).

But it’s gonna be a long road for Ezio to do such a thing so yeah…

He’s gonna be doing this for a while.

[paws-of-the-quill]

felt this made this

[ridingtorohan]

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.

[thesharktanksdriver]

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

[demigoddessqueens]

Hello! I was wondering if you could do a fic about how different Assassin’s cuddle? Your main bunch is fine

btw I love your writing, I’ve been re-reading your stuff and it has me kicking my legs and giggling like a school girl

have a great day!

Oh of course! Thank you so much for reading and supporting my writing 😄 and I love that comparison, making me giggle like a schoolgirl too 🥹💞

a/n - I’ll add as many of the leads as I can so everyone gets some love

Masterlist 11

Altair

The type who says he doesn’t like cuddles but absolutely does! Likes being the big spoon to where he feels protectively wrapped around you

Ezio

Kicking, clicking his heels and twirling his hair! Yes please, absolutely, bene bene! Any excuse to kiss you more

Desmond

Lover boy who likes laying on top of you cause if you’re cuddling, you’re not going anywhere!

Connor

Likes to cuddle with you on top his chest and those large arms wrapped around you

Arno

Did he hear you right? You wanna cuddle 🥹 with him? Yes please cherie!! Any type of cuddle where he can admire and kiss you

Jacob

A whole teddy bear cuddler, with a scruff that tickles you, who also lets his lips and hands and mind wander 😉

Evie

First it starts off as reading together as some down time but then evolves into cuddles when the book is less interesting than you 💕

Haytham

Thinks he’s too dignified and above cuddles but the second you thread your fingers through his hair, it’s immediate defeat and he wants to just hold you

Basim

You are LOCKED IN!! Even if you try to move, Basim will whine if you try to pry out of his arms

Shay

Cuddles are an excuse of his to be as flirtatious as possible, even letting those hands wander 😏

Kassandra

Sometimes you need cuddles, sometimes she does too; cuddling face to face is a more intimate preference

Eivor

Warm and toasty cuddles 🥰 completely submerged under all the furs and blankets

Aveline

She’s a sweet cuddler that likes to leave little kisses here and there when you start to doze off

[kiatheinsomniac]

❝contains: ezio auditore❞ ✩ — fan favourite ♡ — contains smut

ᯓ★ 𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐬:

gods au masterlist

encyclopedia of the gods, their associations and what one may offer them

bound in blood

desire's breath ♡

my heart is dedicated to you

ᯓ★ 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬:

undercover escape

come to bed

rooftop confessions

the party

when the party's over

away from the parties

womaniser

comforting your insecurity

innocence and experience ♡

five times you almost kissed and the time you did

feeling good ♡

feeling good II

I know that face (strange though it seems)

branches of the brotherhood

a welcoming embrace

consequences of an affair

that four letter acronym

if you need me, I'll be there

I hate knowing that you're hurt and there's nothing I can do

show my face?

more than earned it ♡

ᯓ★ 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬:

as a jealous lover

seeing you in a tank top and shorts

yandere ezio headcanons

he meets a hijabi reader

his reaction to surprise hugs

what he calls his s/o

first kiss

reacting to you being hurt

making love while it rains ♡

meeting a non-assassin s/o

mini spicy headcanons ♡

on his s/o's birthday

his s/o falls asleep next to him

you reject his love

his s/o shares his personality

valentines headcanons

his s/o is terrified of frogs

as a voice actor

his s/o is scared of storms

when his s/o gets catcalled

when you cup his face and call him cute nicknames

meeting your parents

finding out you have a hidden tattoo

his s/o is shy

boyband au

finding out he missed your birthday

staying the night at yours for the first time

when his s/o doesn't want a baby

body preferences for his s/o

his s/o is really good at giving massages

his child asks where children come from + for a sibling

his type in a s/o

with an insecure, plus-sized, dark-eyed reader

his s/o thinks he's hot in his assassin robes

he wakes up and finds his s/o in his robes

he finds his s/o masturbating ♡

how he reacts to having a sleepy s/o

when his s/o has a scar with a funny story

how he reacts to his s/o in a cat maid outfit

his s/o is hispanic/latina

he has a nightmare where his s/o dies

with a touch-starved reader

with a templar s/o

when his s/o has commitment issues

when there's only one bed

with an african-american reader

his s/o has a nightmare

what artistic talents he has

what he smells like

his s/o loves giving head ♡

his s/o gets really sick

with a muslim s/o

when his s/o wants to grind on his thigh ♡

when his s/o passes out

what his bedroom looks like

ᯓ★ 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬 / 𝐦𝐢𝐱𝐞𝐝 / 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬:

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧'𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐯𝐞 [archived] my very old oneshots from my pre-tumblr days

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 [discontinued] a highschool au featuring a variety of characters

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 [discontinued] a vampire au of ezio

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 𝐮𝐧𝐰𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐞 [discontinued] a multi-part ezio x reader fic

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 a collaborative event with @itseivwhore

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