#Frye twins imagine

[bookworm-with-coffee]

Just a Kiss This Christmas. . . 🎄☃️

(Christmas Eve with Your Faves - Assassin's Creed III, Rogue and Syndicate Edition)

Plot; Little Christmas themed comfort imagines

Pairings;

Haytham Kenway x Reader (Romantic)

Connor Kenway (Ratonhnhaké:ton) x Reader (Romantic)

Shay Cormac x Reader (Romantic)

Liam O'Brien x Reader (Romantic)

Jacob Frye x Reader (Romantic)

Evie Frye x Reader (Romantic)

Lydia Frye x Reader (Romantic)

Warnings; mature themes, tooth-rotting fluff, a pinch of angst here and there, implied smut, mentions of alcohol/alcohol consumption, mentions of war/warzones and violence

_______________________________________

Haytham Kenway

Outside the fogged windows, gentle snowfall was on display. Winds rustled the trees and laughter echoed in the streets.

Houses lined the roads, warmed with crackling fires and the mirth of togetherness and peace. Taverns bustled with those celebrating the coming of what was considered the best holiday of the year, cheerful music floating in the chill of the winter air.

The perfect Christmas Eve.

Your heart was soaring, not sparing a care to the coldness of the floorboards and tiling beneath your feet; finding yourself warmed by the fires of the oven.

The smell of spices floated through the halls of your home, your freshly baked gingerbread now cooling on a rack. It was an effort not to pull the scalding biscuits from the metal, to devour them immediately; but your focus on your brewing hot chocolate stole any chance of impulse.

Your lips curled up at the lightly thickened milk, stirring at your homemade concoction. Now having the desired consistency, you poured the rich beverage into two mugs, sparing a look over your shoulder.

A sigh passed through your nostrils, spying the time displayed on the wall clock. Thirty minutes past the ninth hour. With a soft loneliness tugging at your heart, you pondered how much longer it would be until Haytham retreated from his office.

Templar affairs had kept him occupied for many days and hours throughout the holiday season, as to be expected when being the Grandmaster of the Colonial. But, you knew that Christmas was one of the few occasions Haytham liked, also aware of how easily time got away from him when occupied with work. He had already missed the Templar Christmas Eve party over in the local tavern, but he would not miss an evening with you. Christmas Eve, especially.

Templar business be damned. It was up to you to save him from his undoubtedly large workload.

The hot chocolate would undoubtedly be a convincing point. Aside from yourself, of course.

Already in your nightdress, you discarded your apron and threw on your winter robes for your journey upstairs, baring an almost giddy smile whilst you climbed them.

You spied the dim lights from under the wooden door, moving to open it without knocking. "Grandmaster", you announced yourself, his head raising from the piles of parchment littered on his desk. His piercing blues were on you in an instant, already tracing over your approaching form with a cocked brow.

"You have not called me by that title since the days before our courtship", Haytham remarked with some amusement, the corners of his lips faintly curling upward. "And even then, you had little regard for it".

"What makes you think that has changed?", you quipped with a laugh. "I had to get your attention somehow. My baking clearly wasn't enough".

His smile grew at your ploy of feigning hurt, your eyes drifting to the words upon the papers. Correspondences from all corners of the world, all of them bearing the seal of the Templars. Did no one in the Order celebrate Christmas??

"My deepest apologies", Haytham crooned with the licks of playful sarcasm dancing in his velvet voice. "However will I make up for such an indiscretion?".

With mischief twinkling in your keen eyes, you grinned, lifting the hem of your nightdress to allow yourself to be seated upon and stradling his larger thighs.

Haytham's quill and papers were long forgotten as his warm hands moved to hold your waist, fingers tracing imaginary patterns into the thin materials separating you both and heating the skin beneath.

Admiration glittered in the depths of his gaze as it trailed over the cascading waves of your hair and the supple skin left exposed by your strappy nightdress and robes, those eyes no longer harsh or commanding. No longer the eyes of the Grandmaster everyone else knew.

There was a softness and vulnerability to Haytham's hues now, clearly displaying his contentment in being trapped within your embrace. A deep sigh expelled from him, relishing in the way your delicate fingers spindled into his silken locks and drew lines over his chest. "Can you think of nothing?", your words were a murmur over his skin, setting it alight with goosebumps.

With his tired eyes now closed, your lips pressed featherlight kisses to his heavy eyelids, his arms pulling you flush against his chest. Descending the curviture of his face, your lips finally met with his own in soft and lazy caresses.

Haytham's hands moved to cradle your face, his tongue drawing along the seam of your lips before they parted eagerly. Your hips shifted against his own in your attempt to get closer, a soft grunt heaving from the Grandmaster's throat and sparking his next course of action.

A small yelp passed through your interlocked lips when the Master Templar heaved you from his lap and onto his desk, the piling letters now sweeping to the floor to accommodate your presence.

Your body arched into his frame, his lips tearing from your own to start leaving a searing trail along your jaw.

"I can think of something ", he mused, pressing his hips into your own.

"Haytham!", you giggled, his skillful touches never failing to leave you weak and at his mercy. "What about the hot chocolate??".

Haytham's low chuckle was a breath against the skin of your neck. "I think you'll find that I have other priorities", his voice remained a sultry whisper, slowly working affectionate pecks towards your naval. "Starting with you ".

♡ °•° ♡ °•° ♡ °•° ♡ °•° ♡

Connor Kenway / Ratonhnhaké:ton

"Connor, my friend!", Norris greeted the young Assassin, tipsy with the few drinks he'd had. But, he was a merry man, deep in the high spirits of the holiday season. It was Christmas Eve, after all.

"Norris", he nodded in acknowledgement, sparing the hints of a smile for his friend, the latter having spied the direction in which the younger man's almond hues had fixated.

With a cheerful smile that reached his eyes, the miner brushed his elbow against Connor's, "Your eyes bore into a beautiful woman, and yet you waste the night lingering here in the shadows instead of talking to her".

Connor's cheeks grew hot at the accusation, his lashes fluttering and ripping his gaze from where you stood amongst the crowds of the party. "I don't know what you are implying".

Norris' gaze turned knowingly to the younger man, his brows raised, "You do not? Then perhaps, you will not mind it if I tell her—".

"Norris", Connor warned, an underlying threat sitting in his brown hues. The older man sighed, his smile refusing to dissipate even in the wake of his counterpart's intimidation.

"Why not talk to her?? Mingle with the party!", he insisted, waving his arms to gesture to the warm atmosphere of the gathering.

"I am not one for celebrations", the young Assassin replied with a tug to his shoulders. "I would much rather watch others making merry".

"And miss all the fun? An opportunity to speak to (Y/n)??", Norris gaped. "Inacceptable!".

"What would you have me do?", Connor asked with a sense of hopelessness. "I have nothing to offer her but an absent partner and a broken heart! I have not the time to court a woman as wonderful as her". He spared a glance to where you stood once more with Miriam, his heart squeezing at the beauty of your laugh. The placement of your dimples and the way the light of your happiness always met with the warmth of your eyes, his own returning to Norris. "Even if I wanted to, with every fibre of my heart".

The Frenchman nodded, understanding the feathersoft yearning that twinkled in Connor's deep gaze. Alike to the one he used to have for Miriam before their marriage.

"Connor", he sighed. "I am certain a woman like (Y/n) would have considered all of these things beforehand! She is headstrong". His smile grew when adding, "The way I hear it from Miriam, (Y/n) hardly ceases singing praise about you".

Connor's heart stilled, his brows drawing together amidst his surprise. "She speaks about me??".

" 'Gushing', is probably a proper word for it, my friend. Women do that when they are en transe by a man, no??".

"I believe so??", Connor's reply came out more like a question than a statement.

"Then why wait in the shadows any longer?", Norris pressed. "Eventually, another man will seize the opportunity to sweep (Y/n) off her feet!". The young Assassin felt a short sting of envy in his chest, his eyes drifting downward. "Do not let yourself feel the regret by not acting now. She is the woman of your dreams, Connor. You deserve that much".

Norris gently clapped Connor's larger shoulder whilst the latter mulled over his friend's wise words, not realising the truth of them until now.

If he were to wait any longer, another man would surely take the opportunity to win your heart. Any sane man would. You were truly a beautiful individual.

You have a selfless heart and a ready mind, encompassing all in your warmth and compassion, inclusive of Connor himself.

Every soft touch of your hands brushing his or holding his arm, every embrace shared after returning from his months away had ensnared his heart, melting away the hardened exterior he often wore. You'd broken through it all with patience, listening to his inner expressions without judgement.

He knew then, that he needed to give your relationship a chance. Even if the price was hurt.

"Connor", your melodic voice snapped him from his daze, a friendly smile shining from your expression despite your concern. "What are you doing back here all by yourself??".

In alarm, Connor's eyes frantically searched for Norris, finding the space beside him now vacant. The older man was finally spotted beside his wife, raising both thumbs in encouragement at the Assassin.

"I just wished to be alone", he offered a quick excuse.

"Alone?", your brows creased. "On Christmas Eve??".

"I am not one for parties", Connor elaborated, his lips subconsciously quirking upwards to match your lighthearted expression.

"I understand", you conceded with a short laugh. "Neither am I, if I'm honest. I'm glad to be away from the bustle".

Leaning against the wall beside him, your bright hues spared him a fond glance whilst you added, "That's why I came to see you". Connor's brows rose,

"Really??". You nodded.

"I hope you don't mind, but I find your company soothing, Connor".

"The feeling is mutual", he assured. "Your words and presence are both a comfort to me, and welcome at any time".

For a moment, you seemed in thought, your eyes finally flickering back to his own. "I want to thank you", you confessed, irking a confused tilt of his head.

"What for??".

"For saving me", you whispered. "For offering me a better life here, away from oppression and struggle. Those things are now a fading memory. Thanks to you".

Connor's heart warmed within his chest, humbled entirely by your words. His lips parted to utter an insistence that his efforts were minimal and knowing this, your hand raised to halt the words about to tumble out.

A nervous, breathy laugh escaped him, unable to mask his endearment for you as his darker orbs travelled the delicate features of your face. Your hand had moved to rest on the clasp of his hands, the warmth of his fingers slowly intwining with yours.

"I am grateful for you", Connor murmured, feeling a surge of courage to reveal what lay in his heart. "You are a remarkable woman, (Y/n). And I consider myself very blessed to have you in my life".

His admittance left you at a loss of words, furthered by the gentle caress of the hand that came to cradle your cheek. Connor's thumb traced over your cheekbone, stilling the breaths in your throat before he continued, "I would be honoured if you would share it with me".

With his nose now brushing your own, your lashes fluttered at the welcome proximity, breathing, "Yes", as you saw fit to close the rest of the gap, your other hand reaching to grip at his hair when the heat of his lips finally reached yours.

They were supple, moving in calming touches with your own, like a summer's breeze. Refreshing and soft.

Connor's breaths exhaled against your skin and heaved in your sweet scent, his chocolate hues fluttering open when your lips had pulled from his own. You grasped the hand interlaced with yours, eyes halflidded given the closeness you still shared.

"Do you think Achilles will notice your absence?", you gnawed on your bottom lip hopefully.

"To hell with him", Connor grunted, his lips sealing with yours again before he lead you discretely from the party room and up the stairs to resume your celebrations elsewhere..

Translations (French to English);

Inacceptable = unacceptable

En transe = Entranced

♡ °•° ♡ °•° ♡ °•° ♡ °•° ♡

Shay Cormac

Winter was always a dreaded time within the colonies, with only the exception of Christmas for most people. It was a time of year that you often found yourself yearning for the warmth of a home and family.

With the stars glimmering above, you'd wished upon them all for what seemed like the thousandth time by your eighth year in life.

Upon the softness of the grass, you lay with company, the autumn coolness high in the air. It wouldn't be long until the snowfall now.

Your fingers sat snugly interlocked in the grasp of your best friend, tilting your head to glance at his philosophical expression, ever a dreamer like yourself. Two children, lying beneath the shimmering lights of the stars.

"How's your face feeling?", you asked with some amusement, Shay's face brightening at the sound of your voice.

"Better now", he answered, using his spare hand to brush over the small blue spot marking his cheek. "It was you, I was worried about".

"Shay", you sighed. "You didn't have to—".

"I did", he cut in firmly, his brows creasing in seriousness. "That boy had no business trying to take your hard-earned food. I showed him the meaning of 'respect'. About time someone did".

The brunette beside you squeezed your fingers, offering a playful wink to pair with the reassuring smile he offered, the gaps on display in his teeth irking you to giggle. "Thank you", you grinned, turning your gaze back towards the skies above.

A comfortable silence ensued between you both before you piped up once more. "Shay?".

"Yeah?", his head panned towards you.

"Do you think that maybe one Christmas, we'll have a family? Be surrounded by loved ones?? Have food to eat and the warmth of a fire?".

Shay's hazel hues seemed contemplative before he answered, "Absolutely". Your brows rose, keen to listen as he continued, "We'll have families one day and big houses and even comfortable beds! You'll see, (Y/n)! When we grow up, everything will finally be alright for us. I just know it!".

That night, you both wished upon every star for Shay's prediction to come to fruition. And with twenty years' passing, Christmas Eve had finally come again.

Snowflakes floated through the air, children playing in the streets. Windows were frosted and the familiar smells of freshly baked goods were carried through the bustling streets.

Merriment and mirth were upon everyone's lips, well-wishes being spread like wildfires. The city of New York was far from perfect, yet it was prosperous, even moreso with the coming of this beloved holiday.

The Morrigan had docked for the first time in months only a few nights ago, Templar business soaring in the season. It was a relief to finally be back on dry land, especially for yourself and Shay; the latter delayed by affairs of the Order.

Never more eager to leave them behind, Shay's steps were brisk in the inches of snow left on the ground. "Are you quite sure you won't be joining us tonight, Captain?", the audacious Mr Gist had asked, excitement lacing through his tone. "I hear that Thomas Hickey is going to try and scull five pints of rum this year, as opposed to his record of three". The blonde laughed at the quizzical expression offered by his counterpart. "It should prove to be quite a show, indeed".

Shay's lips quirked up at his quartermaster's humour, ever grateful for Gist's good spirits, before he replied, "I'm celebrating Christmas Eve elsewhere tonight. A promise to a friend".

Gist spared a hearty chuckle, nodding in his clear understanding. "Very good, Captain". There was a knowing glint in his eyes when he added, "I will pass on your regards to the others, so long as you will pass mine on to (Y/n)".

There was no hiding anything from the perceptive quartermaster, Shay noted before grinning at his friend when the offer to shake hands was presented. "Thank you, Master Gist. You are relieved until the New Year", the brunette accepted.

"It has been an honour serving with you this year, Shay", Gist assured him humbly, releasing the friendly hold.

"And you", Shay's head inclined, finally farewelling the blonde before his journey lead him through a familiar set of gates not far from the port.

The chill of the winter air whipped at him incessantly until he reached the doors of his destination. Somewhere he hadn't been in the longest time. Home.

He needed only to knock on the hardwood doors before they swung open, bringing with it, the cozy and fruity smells of mulled wine and hot foods.

"Shay!", your arms were quick to pull the Irishman inside, from the cold and into your warm embrace. He stumbled for a moment, being much taller than yourself, yet never more relieved to be anywhere else but your kind arms.

Your lips hit his cheek in a quick peck, closing the front doors behind him and sealing out the cold. Shay's cheek tingled with the heat your touch left, his lips curled into a grin of delight at seeing your own.

"I was getting worried that I'd have to drag you from the Morrigan myself", you huffed with amusement.

"And you would've", Shay conceded.

"Bloody right, I would've". Your comment earned a soft giggle from the brunette, your eyes turning again to meet his as you shuffled around. "Merry Christmas, Shay".

"Merry Christmas, (Y/n)", he returned, noticing then that the halls of your shared home were decorated. Holly and vines of green bush were hung in abundance, even a tree in the corner, where most of the month everything had been bare.

A sense of wonder had filled Shay's hazel hues as they travelled the dimly lit halls. This would be not only his first Christmas back on dry land, but yours as well. For many years, you both missed Christmas. The Assassins often had you both scouring the Earth for artifacts; and the last few years, the Templars had you both embarking on diplomatic business.

As you both were rarely on dry land, Shay provided you with a home for you both to share, so that you would not waste what money you earned paying off a house that you would barely use. It was the least he could do for the best friend who had stuck through it all with him. And continued to do so.

Although now, in your adulthood, it felt like so much more than just a simple close friendship.

"Like it?", your voice brought the Irishman from his enthralled daze, his own voice sounding far away when he commented,

"It's lovely. Truly". He nodded, offering a pleased smile to you at last. "I can't believe you decorated! And is that—", the brunette sniffed the air. "— mulled wine?".

"And dinner", you laughed, his face blanching.

"You cooked as well??", Shay gaped. "How— you didn't have to— why??". His head tilted, genuinely in shock at the kindness of your actions.

"Well, you can hardly expect me to sit on my arse and twiddle my thumbs for the whole three days I was off from work!". You grasped his gloved hands, removing the covers to hold the heated skin beneath instead. "So, I occupied myself!".

Leading him into the kitchen, Shay was further surprised at the sight of some carved turkey on two plates, still steaming from the oven. You'd even baked some seasoned potatoes, glistening with butter and herbs— and was that cranberry sauce on the side??

You turned to the Irishman's stunned expression at last, the latter's eyes seeming to bulge from his skull out of shock whilst he insisted, "(Y/n), you didn't have to do this!".

Squeezing his hand to offer him reassurance, you laughed again. "I know!". Your thumb ran strokes over his knuckles, your gaze timidly shifting around in your excitement. "It's just— we've never had a proper Christmas, always being away and all, so I wanted to do this for you as much as myself. I wanted to give us a real Christmas!", you confessed. "Just like the ones we always spoke about as children".

"It's more than I could've imagined or deserved", Shay breathed out, his lashes fluttering whilst he grounded himself. At last, his hazel gaze met yours, glimmering with the hints of something unreadable to your own. "Thank you, (Y/n), for everything. I know my decisions have cost us everything from stability to the things we wanted as children, like marriage—", his eyes flickered downwards. "— or a family, but—".

"Shay", you cut in gently with a note of disapproval, gathering his gaze once more. "You are my family".

A smile returned to your face, the Irishman's eyes tracking your every movement. Your fingertips reached upwards, folding a stray few strands of his hair behind his ear.

"Remaining by your side was my decision. Leaving you was not and is not an option for me". Your thumb ran across the sharpness of his cheekbone, feeling the growing warmth of his skin beneath your touch. "Those dreams we had as children— the Assassins, the Templars— none of that could ever matter to me as much as you do".

Leaning onto the tips of your toes, your lips pressed a featherlight kiss against his forehead, murmuring against his skin, "You're all the family I need, Shay. As long as I have you, nothing else matters. I love you".

With such a raw confession hanging in the air, Shay didn't let your close proximity break. His arms curled around your waist, holding you upon your tiptoes with his lips close enough to brush with your own.

Shay awaited any attempt for you to pull away, finding no discomfort sitting in your orbs when at last his lips graced yours. Every part of you gave in to the careful strokes of his flesh with yours, feeling their cold and tasting the salt from the sea breeze that still lingered with him.

The Irishman finally recognised the ever blooming strength of the feeling that had always been there in his heart. It was as if an epiphany had struck him in the electric feeling of your kiss, your words having sparked the realisation of why your close friendship had felt like more.

It always had been.

"I love you too", his thickened brogue fanned over your lips after the kiss had broken. Shay's forehead sat against yours, cherishing the closeness and mingling of your breaths.

"We do have to eat first", a breathy chuckle fell from you, mirrored by Shay's laugh whilst your fingertips tracing the sharpness of his jawline.

"Must we?", his pout was playful, fondness once again dancing in his hazel hues.

"Afraid so".

"It shouldn't matter, as long as I have you". Shay's shoulders tugged, his statement endearing until he added, "Because if I eat all my dinner, I get dessert ". Sparing you a flirtatious wink in his passing into the kitchen, your mouth hung open incredulously.

This would be a long night, indeed...

♡ °•° ♡ °•° ♡ °•° ♡ °•° ♡

Liam O'Brien

Life on the open seas. The salty air and biting breeze of the Atlantic a bitter reminder to you that you were far from the comforts found in being on land. Being home.

Assassin work never ceased, even with the Christmas season soon coming to a close the day after next. Christmas Eve had come again and you were surrounded by an endless amount of ocean that stretched to every direction of the horizons with only silence for company.

The hour was late, the crew of the Morrigan having set anchor hours ago to retire to their quarters and the seas were calm, the ship hardly rocking with the sway of the waters.

You should have been sleeping too. Being the crew's navigator, rest was an essential part of your job. To stay focused, to have a ready mind should your Assassin bretheren call up on your skillset.

It was for naught.

You missed the mirthfulness of being on dry land, being at the Homestead with your brothers and sisters. You missed the people rejoicing for the year's end, giving gifts and thanks for each other. You even missed the decorating of those silly pine trees and the smell of your baked goods. You missed Christmas. And you missed spending it with Liam, the quartermaster of the ship having always been a big part of your celebrations since before your time as an Assassin.

Every Christmas Eve, the bald Irishman made it a habit to ditch his duty of babysitting Shay for one night and spend the evening with you however which way you both saw fit.

Last year, Liam had taken you for ice-skating on the lake by the Homestead, as the weather finally permitted it. It also had something to do with the fact that you spent every day of that dreaded month whinging in his ear about how you'd love to learn how to ice-skate, begging asking him to teach you. How then, with you as persistent and stubborn as Shay, was he able to refuse??

The year before, Liam had barely made it to port in time, surprising you with his appearance at your front door in the evening. You'd felt so disheartened at the prospect of him being away from home, away from you that Christmas, that you'd nearly broken his back from the force of your embrace when you pulled his larger form through the door.

He never came empty handed, although you always insisted upon it.

"You're giving me the best meal I've had in months, Love", he'd say with a laugh. "Least I can do is give y' something for the trouble".

Liam would gift you trinkets he'd find at sea or on missions and although your respective careers as Assassins allowed little time for feelings or emotions, something about Liam makes every trouble feel small and any place feel like home.

You were relieved to be travelling with him and Shay this year, the bald Irishman having sung praise about your navigational expertise— one that could rival Chevalier's. And despite being no closer to the mission's end, you missed the intimacy of your traditions with your dearest friend who was undoubtedly sleeping soundly.

Or so you'd thought.

"What's this then?", Liam's voice startled you from your daze. "Sorry", he apologised with a soft laugh, moving to lean on the ship's railing alongside you.

"Can't sleep?", your question made him grin.

"Shouldn't I be the one to ask you that?". His amused expression quickly morphed into one of concern. "What's got y' so troubled?".

"It's Christmas Eve", your reply confused him, before you elaborated. "And look where we are. No land for miles, just water".

"I never knew being at sea would bother you so much", his brows drew together. "It can be hard, being so isolated. I can always ask Shay to—".

"It's not that, Liam".

"Then what?", his question was paired with a light tilting of his head, green hues fixed on you with that same gentle and attentive nature.

"There's no traditions or fun this year. No break from our work— we just don't stop. Every year, we always found something new to do, but it never mattered to me what we did. We always had each other, Liam. And maybe, just maybe, I—".

"Miss it?", he finished, coaxing something of a sheepish nod from you.

Darting up from the clasp of your hands, your gaze met Liam's, something fond and understanding in the way his lips curled into that crooked and beloved smile.

Hues of blue, purple and green suddenly illuminated his face in a heavenly symphony of colours and lights, stealing the breath from your lungs as your gazes travelled upward in realisation.

For the first time in your months on the sea, the Aurora Borealis made herself known to the only two beings awake on the ocean, dancing in many waves across the glittering skies.

"Come now", Liam said gathering your immediate attention when extending a palm to you. "I think we've found our fun for this year".

The warmth of his hand quickly enveloped yours, beckoning you near with the lightest of tugs. Your mingling breaths misted in the cold, your being craving the heat that endlessly radiated from the male before you.

Just like your dance on the ice the previous year, Liam lead you carefully by the small of your back into a soft waltz, the world around you slowly spinning in colours and ribbons of light from the heavens, with him at its heart.

The Irishman shared in your gleeful laughter as you both spun and gradually forgot the rhythm of the dance, all the while clinging to each other's hands.

Your bodies became tangled and giggling messes as you both struggled to hold the other upright in an embrace that finalised your dance with Liam. His head panned to yours resting softly on his shoulder, breathless and grinning ear to ear. Flushed from the cold and looking at him like he'd placed the stars themselves into the heavens.

"I think I've found our tradition for every year", you whispered.

His brows rose playfully, "Have you?".

Craving his warmth, you wasted no more time in hesitation, seizing the blistering heat of his mouth with yours.

Liam eagerly accepted the contact with a pleased hum, smiling through the shared movements of your lips as the years of tension fell away into something far more beautiful.

"I quite like that idea", his quiet laugh fell upon your skin. "We should definitely do the dancing again—".

Slapping his shoulder, you both shared in another kiss before making a move for the quartmaster's cabin, from which you would probably fail to emerge from any time prior to noon on Christmas Day.

♡ °•° ♡ °•° ♡ °•° ♡ °•° ♡

Jacob Frye

Snow cut through the calm yet biting breeze, a chill deep in the foggy streets of London. Your throat burned dry with every inhale, relieved to be out in the open air at last, away from the suffocating heat of the bustling tavern.

What else could you expect from a gathering hosted by London's best bookie?

Robert Topping had thrown together quite the riot for the good peoples of the city, the Rooks taking it upon themselves to make merry with them, ensuring that every man, woman and child that showed up left in good spirits and with plenty of food in their bellies.

Another few people passed you by on their way out from the pub, whispers of 'Merry Christmas' on their lips, reflective of their gratitude towards you and the many others that had contributed to the party and the hard-won peace that now flourished in London.

Since Starrick's defeat mere months ago, the people no longer came to suffer the oppression of the gangs that had once run the streets. All the same, you also found yourself missing the adrenaline of it all. The thrill of freeing the people under the Templars' noses, loosening their iron hold over the citizens— working with Jacob and Evie to undo each scheme that was set against them.

However, there was nothing you missed more than being paired with Jacob on any mission the Frye's needed you for. The younger Frye had a knack for making you laugh, his easygoing nature making him easy to fall into step with.

His witty sarcasm, his playful digs and constant verbal nudges to get on your nerves had all become much-loved aspects of your assignments with him. Now, you knew not what you'd do without them, just as Jacob remained unsure of how often he'd have your company in future.

It frightened him— the thought of hardly seeing you, after you'd achieved so much together.

As such, it was hard for the younger Frye to remain oblivious to your early departure from the festivities, spying your thoughtful expression as you'd moved out into the snow.

"Leaving so soon?", Jacob called unto your back, caught for breath when you turned to face him. Pure exhilaration.

"I am, actually", you spoke with a teasing edge. "What brings you here? Looking for a way out of Bobby Topping's drinking competition? He was keen hoping you'd be his top contender".

"He knows I don't have to compete to be his top contender", the brunette countered quickly. "And I have no plans on earning him a quid more than he already has this evening".

"That's a first". He huffed a laugh at your quip, before his features softened. Recounting the many nights you'd spent patching him up after Fight Club. Blooded and bruised. Kind hands cradling him.

"It's hardly safe at this hour", Jacob began, sparing a glance at his fobwatch. "And as much as I'd love to leave you to the street felons, I think a walk might do us good".

"Am I sensing an offer to walk me home, Mr Frye?", your brow cocked, masking the mixture of horror and excitement that suddenly arose within you.

"It's that or Evie's wrath. As much as I lack fear of the latter, I'm not in the mood to be verbally castrated when I return to the train tonight". The brunette swiveled on his feet, graciously offering you his elbow to hold. "It is Christmas Eve, after all and one must learn to forgive another's snide remarks".

The wink that followed had you giggling, "I accept".

The walk that followed was magical.

Holding to the hard muscle sheathed by his leather jacket, you basked in the warmth that seemed to pour endlessly from Jacob. A beacon of heat in the crisp winter cold as you crossed onto London bridge– now entirely devoid of any life. Naught but the quiet flow of the icy waters and the waft of the breeze could be heard, no voices.

"It's so peaceful", your comment irked a fond smile from the young Frye as his stride seemed to slow.

"Too peaceful, one might say", his contented sigh misted in the breeze, footsteps halting halfway across the brige.

Jacob seemed taken by something, his hues of hazel panning up into the sky— to the lonely lights twinkling above. Their sparkle cascaded down, into the fresh snowflakes that now rained softly from the heavens. Like stars falling to Earth, the frost glittering in the moonlight.

"Snow!", your mouth fell open in awe, squeezing his arm in your shock. "It's so beautiful".

The flakes danced around you both in the wind, clinging to your hair and settling onto your clothes, doing nothing to deter Jacob's playful spirit.

Your racing heart leapt as his larger hand slowly brushed along your forearm, fingers carefully moving to tangle with your own amidst the snowfall.

"Dance with me", he whispered in a tone so gentle, you'd thought him a completely different person for a moment. The mischievous twinkle in the heart of his gaze made you realise that it was quite the contrary.

Seizing the moment with the man you adored, your steps across the bridge turned into the graceful, yet clumsy movements of a ballroom dance. Your shared laughter echoed along the piers below, seeming like starstruck soulmates to any sailors observing from below.

Without missing a beat, Jacob twirled you into his embrace with the gentleness and playfulness of a lover in a private waltz that was completely your own.

The journey across the bridge was over too soon, leaving your cheeks red and sore from smiling so much. All the while, Jacob's hand never retreated from yours.

Sensing a change in the wind, the young Assassin's head snapped towards you with amusement and exhaustion marring his expression. "As much as I'd love to continue our antics with the stunning views atop Big Ben, I think it would be a good idea to get indoors".

Little did you know, he'd never been more right.

Chests heaving and hearts hammering, you embraced the shelter you'd both managed to reach. Your beloved home, safe from the storm that had suddenly swept north.

"That was fun", Jacob's comment irked a shake of your head.

"Funnily enough", you countered, managing a laugh amidst your gasps for air. "Outrunning a blizzard wasn't how I planned to spend my Christmas Eve".

All of the other homes on the street were now near invisible to you both, shaky hands reaching for the front door. "You'd be mad to go back to the train in this weather", you turned to the timid and shaking brunette, quickly beckoning him inside with you. "Stay the night".

"It's a pity that our run didn't keep us warm for long", Jacob huffed once inside your humble abode, relieved to see that you were already starting a fire in the hearth.

"We were lucky to get here when we did, though", you remarked through chattering teeth. "Make yourself at home, Jacob".

Nodding, the young Frye unclasped his hidden blade, shook off his dampening overcoat and removed his top hat out of respect whilst you hurried out of the room.

Hazel flecked hues danced the room, ogling at the cozy Christmas greenery that lined the walls, at the beautifully decorated pine tree that brought him fondly back to the days of his childhood in Crawley. Of standing on an old oak chair in the living room of his grandmother's house, eagerly hanging the baubles whilst the smells of spiced biscuits and fresh tree needles filled the room.

So consumed in the memories that made his eyes glassy, Jacob didn't see your approach, nearly jumping whilst you wrapped a thick blanket around his broad shoulders. There was instant warmth and relief in the way your palms ran along his toned arms, attempting to provide heat through friction.

"Thank you". There it was again, just like before. That softness drifting through his voice, so unlike the boisterous and authoritative tone he usually took with the Rooks and other associates of his.

Offering him a smile that brought a completely different warmth to his form, Jacob allowed himself to be pulled in tow, to be seated with you by the crackling embers of the dim fire.

Given the evening behind you, the younger Frye felt comfortable and confident enough to be seated flush with you on the hard cold of the floorboards, inching one half of the blanket around your shoulders for you to share in his ever present body heat again.

Restraining the shudders that threatened to wash over you, your head panned away from his, not daring another glance at the way the fire illuminated his delicate and sharp features.

"Do you want some tea?". You began to hover your numbing hands above the burning flames, his words of reply being neither desperate or commanding, accompanied with what appeared to be a content curl of his lips, boyish and sweet.

"Don't leave".

Jacob's larger palms reached out, encasing the chill of your fingers within them. Drawing your hands away from the fire, his own gently offered yours a massage, encouraging the blood to race back into them.

Steady fingers worked into your palms and wrists, rubbing together at a soft and tantalising pace, the hazel hues of his gaze darting up to meet yours. You felt pinned in place by them whilst he blew a stream of hot air onto your skin.

Nerves prickled in your flesh, entirely fixated by the proximity of your best friend. Your colleague. So intimately coursing his thumbs over your hands whilst he spoke,

"I know this evening hasn't been what you expected— Or what I expected". His lashes fluttered. "But, there's no one else's Christmas Eve I'd rather be imposing on right now, more than yours".

An amused grin splayed along your features, shyly adding a confession of your own, "I don't think there's anyone else I'd rather have imposing on my Christmas Eve right now. Or from now on".

The new and bewitching colours of Jacob's firelit gaze once again ensnared you, holding your own eyes through the length of his lashes. His mouth feathered a touch over the pads of your fingers, brushing another on your knuckles before he finally settled for closing what space remained between you.

Whatever kind grip that he'd had on your hands disappeared, allowing you the opportunity of sweeping them along the ridge of his cheekbone and into his hair whilst his lips grazed over the seam of yours.

A gasp ghosted over Jacob's sensitive flesh, encouraging him to take your mouth again in a kiss far more eager than the last.

The crease of his brows met firm with yours, claiming any of your coherent thought in the new and fervent dance of his lips. Caught entirely in those movements, you both easily forgot the cold around you, the blanket falling to the floor as you climbed into his lap. Into his arms.

Jacob caressed a finger along your frantic pulse point, continuing to tease the dip of your collarbone whilst he settled his hand above your heart.

"I think—", he murmured, hinting a kiss in his descent against the delicate flesh of your jaw. "We can beat this chill another way".

The vibration of your laugh only did much to tempt him, quickly taking it upon yourself to fuel that cheeky grin of his.

"Whatever you say, Mr Frye".

♡ °•° ♡ °•° ♡ °•° ♡ °•° ♡

Evie Frye

Baubles and greenery. Holly and cinnamon sticks. Pine trees and the smells of roasted chestnuts being carried down the streets. Everybody knew what time of year had come.

A sweet sense of relief had set in with the peoples of London, just in time for the biggest and happiest season. Having only been a shell of it's former self mere months ago, the city was now alive and bustling with trade and well wishes. Content with the knowledge that someone was looking out for them. Offering them a hard-earned peace.

The Rooks, the beloved gang serving the Fryes and protecting the streets— were now making merry with those they serve. Throwing a riot of a party that Evie Frye was certain she was missing.

She paid no mind to the cheering and clapping on the streets this evening, content to let it pass her by, despite Jacob's encouragements. There was far more work to be done, far more to be studied on the Pieces of Eden. Templar schemes didn't disappear at Christmas, and Evie made it her inclination that Assassin plans never halted either. Too much was at stake. Or so she'd earlier insisted to Henry, who also— thought it best to have the night off.

For but a moment, her tired crystal eyes lifted from the piles of parchment on her desk, harping a thought of her very active mind on you.

Of the way you'd busied yourself around the train earlier that morning, piles of decorations fumbling and falling from your arms. The excitement that had flared through the depths of your gaze or the shape of your dimples when you grinned like a giddy schoolchild and the way her heart had soared with your laughter.

A smile ghosted over Evie's lips, unrestrained with the fond reminder of how your carefree soul never failed to lift her spirits.

In previous months, it had done much to loosen her hardened and strict exterior. And earned her a mouthful of teasing from her brother, who had wholeheartedly supported her curiosities of their best friend and colleague. Despite any and all disapproval she'd face from anyone else.

There was a tug of guilt in her chest, drawing her icy hues to the glow of the streets outside. You'd be celebrating, perhaps disheartened that your friend couldn't even make the effort to show. After everything you'd done to prepare. After everything you'd accomplished together this year.

"There you are", Evie suddenly straightened, instantly snapped from her daze by the intrusion of your voice. As if her thoughts alone had summoned you to the train.

"(Y/n)", the brunette turned to you, choked up with the image settled before her.

Despite your hands being clasped behind your back, your posture was that of complete relaxation, donning a dress so wickedly beautiful, it seemed as if the angels above had forged you.

There was an obvious flush to your cheeks from the cold and any alcohol you'd recently consumed with the festivities, but it left any of her previously coherent thoughts scarce.

"Jacob told me I'd find you here", you remarked with a cheeky quirk to your lip.

Of course he did, Evie nearly responded out of natural irritation, marking your approach. Noting the concern etched to your features, the waves of your hair drifting back and carrying the smells of spiced firesmoke.

"Why are you here so late? You're missing all of the festivities".

A long and frustrated sigh drifted through her nostrils. "It's the Templars", she tugged stressfully on a loose strand of her fringe. "They don't rest! They—".

"Enough", one of your palms moved to carefully blanket Evie's, instantly rendering her into a silence. "Forget it. Forget it all tonight. It's Christmas Eve".

The softest swipe of your thumb over her knuckles placated any argument, Evie pinning you with a pensive and tired glare before her shoulders slumped in resignation at your unwavering resolve. You were anything if not more stubborn than her twin.

Without much difficulty, the older Frye allowed herself to be pulled to her feet. Sitting for the many hours passed had done little to aid her posture, leaving her muscles unnaturally exhausted of their energy and bones riddled with stiffness.

"Office work does not become you, Miss Frye", your giggle was soon mirrored by hers.

"I'm glad you think so. My bones seem to agree with you".

"Lucky for you, it's hardly the weather to be chasing down Templars. However,—", her brows rose in intrigue when you trailed off, finally bringing your other hand forth from behind your back. "— you may find the weather more fitting for this".

In one of your hands was a steaming mug of mulled wine that you'd managed to smuggle from the celebration, its fragrant spices drawing the elder Frye back to her childhood days in Crawley. Building snowmen with Jacob and cutting down pine trees in the woods.

In your other palm, there was a small and well-decorated box that you'd pulled from your pocket, patterned simply with a red ribbon binding the label which read clearly,

'To Evie.

With love, from (Y/n)'.

Offering both to her, you had the honour of watching her familiar icy blues change in their observation of you. Twisting with a fondness and mixture of shock that you'd never previously witnessed from her.

"Merry Christmas, Evie".

Moisture prickled in the brunette's eyes, quickly dismissed in the flutter of her lashes. "I can't believe you—".

About to placate her, you hardly expected Evie to cross whatever space there was between you, drawing your frame against hers in a kind embrace that nullified the winter's harsh and lingering chill.

"Evie, your mulled wine—", you tried to object whilst you steadied yourself with her, soon realising that you were perfectly safe and balanced. That her beverage wouldn't spill and burn you both.

The moments drifted in the comfort of her arms, seeming to end too soon when she at last pulled from you with misty hues.

"You didn't honestly think that I would forget you?".

Evie choked a laugh in the dismissal of her tears, "By my not attending the festivities, I thought that I'd given you the uninentional presumption that I'd forgotten you".

"No", your smile remained kind, admired keenly by Evie's sharper gaze. "You gave me the presumption that I'd have to drag you from your papers kicking and screaming. Didn't I succeed?".

"You've gotten further than Jacob ever has", she conceded, feeling the lightness of the gift being tucked beneath her fingers.

"Open it", your encouragement made her blink.

"But, it's Christmas Eve?".

"This one is special". You squeezed her hand in assurance. "Trust me".

It was with a slow apprehension and deep care that Evie untied the ribbon, lifting the shallow lid to the box in her palm. You delighted in the wonder that arose within the crystalline glare of her gaze as her fingers lifted the delicate trinket from the box.

The silver chain caught the light around you, twinkling softly like the stars under her scrutiny. Charms jangled, tied and melded into the precious metal with a precision that left her speechless.

"Did you—".

"I did", you nodded. "I learned from Henry. It's a lucky charm bracelet. I made its design so that it could also adorn your hidden blade, if you wish".

"I do, please!", Evie's insistance was paired with the instant offer of her forearm, on which you then fastened the glittering jewels to her bracer.

"I chose this colour", you murmured, tracing a finger along one of the stones. Pale blue and cut to be shaped like a heart. "Reminded me of your eyes".

Your gaze darted up, instantly catching hers. Like the striking chill of winter, or the bubbling streams anew in spring.

"Why did you shape it that way?", her ask was barely audible, as if speaking any louder would shatter any hope of a genuine answer from you.

"I carved it that way to represent my heart. My goodwill to you, Evie. To give you luck when you need it. Maybe, in the hopes that you might be reminded of me from time to time, if you ever go back to Crawley".

Your stomach twisted with the prospect of a possible rejection whilst the brunette huffed a breathy laugh. "How foolish you are, to believe that I'd ever be capable of forgetting you".

You swallowed nervously, feeling your throat becoming taut with the slow smile that crept onto her freckled cheeks. A realisation passed between you both in that moment. That this wasn't some fiction or delusion, or simple and fleeting curiosity. This was real. Fortified further by the gentle tug of her arm, slowly allowing the hand lingering upon it to fall into hers.

"You are far too entangled in my heart for me to ever let you go", she whispered, fingers weaving to intertwine with yours. "How could I ever leave?".

With the lightest pull from Evie, your feet stumbled forwards on autopilot, chest coming to meet flush with hers.

The cold that encompassed your lips dissipated with the soft breaths that cascaded over them, soon swallowed entirely by warmth as her mouth claimed yours. Gently, ardently, riddled with hesitation.

Your hands reliquished their grip at last on the mug, shattering when it hit the floor nearby, paying no mind to it whilst Evie craned you backwards, leading you to the couch just behind.

Falling upon the plush surface, you understood now why Jacob found it so comfortable. Evie blinked when her lips pulled from yours,

"Hang on, I forgot to get you a present—".

"I don't know", you mused, dancing a finger along the collar of her shirt. "I have a feeling that I'll like unwrapping this one much better".

♡ °•° ♡ °•° ♡ °•° ♡ °•° ♡

Lydia Frye

"Miss Frye".

"Mr Churchill", Lydia acknowledged with a curt nod, fiddling with the bracer of her hidden blade.

"I trust, the mission went well??".

"Exceptionally", she nodded, watching the warmth of relief meeting the Prime Minister's eyes. "The spies at the north gate have been eliminated. Rooks now stand vigil. If we are to endure an attack, we will surely see it coming".

"It seems London is once again indebted to you, Miss Frye", Winston mused. "Is there not anything we can offer you in return?? Consider your previous request in the works. I have my best people ensuring that London will one day bear true equality to the women of our beloved nation".

Lydia was pensive, gnawing the inside of her mouth. Unable to ignore the pressure of the worries eating at her every thought.

Hesitantly, she pulled a letter from her green overcoat, offering it forth to a bewildered Winston Churchill. His steady hands took the parchment, sparing it a look only to whom it was from. "(Y/n) Frye?", his gaze darted up to Lydia's.

"She's an Assassin working to aid the front", the brunette elaborated. "She has written me one letter a week without fail since her deployment. It has been two and a half weeks, and I have no word. Not even from my best men".

"You worry for her wellbeing?", Churchill questioned with a concern similar to Lydia's. "There is a war on. Perhaps, the couriers—".

"I recieve these letters by different means, Mr Churchill. I am scared for her life. No one loves Christmas more than she. And with that on approach— I've heard nothing. Not even a whisper".

"I see", his lips pursed in thought, nodding in his understanding.

"Mr Churchill, if there's one thing I wish, it's for her to be found and brought home safely".

"I will begin an investigation at once", he assured her, smiling at the numbers written under your signature. "Smart girl. She has signed off with her last longitude and latitude coordinates for us, which gives us a good place to start covering ground".

"Thank you, Sir", Lydia released a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding.

"I only ask for patience and understanding at this time, Miss Frye", Churchill offered a compassionate smile. "Be aware that it is hardly unusual for people to go missing in warzones and this investigation may take some time. I will page you with any findings I come across. We will get your sister home, if we can. That is a promise".

"She's not my sister, Mr Churchill", the brunette nodded in her parting, lifting her hands to raise her cowl. Winston only had to dart his keen gaze to one of them, instantly realising the truth upon seeing the silver band sitting on her left ring finger.

You weren't Lydia Frye's sister— you were her wife.

Weeks had passed with no word from yourself or in regards to the investigation. Lydia grew more anxious with each day that silence claimed.

"Wipe that worried off your face, Lydia Frye", she snapped from her daze with her grandfather's voice pulling her to reality. "Your fretting is making me fret".

The brunette giggled at the lighthearted expression on his weathered features, "Apologies, Grandfather. I had no idea such things were contagious".

"I have spent days worrying over others. It does not do well to dwell on these things, Sweetheart. My heart tells me that they'll find (Y/n) and bring her home", Jacob sighed. "Evie and I trained you both. I know your capabilities more than most, as well as hers. (Y/n) is strong and forthright. If I know her as well as I think, she is fighting to get home to you".

"I feel helpless, Grandfather", Lydia's smile saddened. "All I can do is wait and it kills me to not be able to—".

"Walk in there, guns blazing to get her out?", Jacob drawled with his peppered brows raised knowingly. Lydia's mouth parted to speak, opening and closing as if in shock that her grandfather knew her better than she knew herself. "You see?", he laughed. "That's the Frye blood in you. The urge to jump into danger, without thought if it means saving someone else".

"You think that I should resist it?", she cocked a brow expectantly.

"No", Jacob's head shook with that signature Frye grin. "I ask you to use it wisely. Pair it with an unholy amount of patience, if you must. But, if it's one thing I know, it's that you and (Y/n) are blessed to have each other".

Lydia's smile flourished again, if only for one thoughtful moment, "Christmas will not be the same without her".

"I don't doubt that either".

Lydia returned to the big city, to her home in London in time for Christmas Eve after making merry with her grandfather over many days in the countryside. Always, his visits were uplifting, reminding her of her rebellious youth beside you.

Easily, she was able to recall your shared studies together, seated on the grassy plains just outside her grandfather's property. Braiding your hair and weaving friendship bracelets from daisies and forget-me-nots.

Your first kiss in the cool spring breeze, swearing yourself to her side. If Lydia chose the destiny of an Assassin, you decided the same fate for yourself.

You'd spent every Christmas together since you were both five years old. Now, you had quite literally disappeared from the face of the Earth, leaving Lydia beside herself in preparation for a night she'd decided to spend patrolling the streets during whatever festivities that were being held.

Refastening her bracer, the brunette finally relented to the idea of taking this walk in the open air, if only to forget the absence of your warmth in your now cold house.

Opening the front door, Lydia froze, sure that she was hallucinating. There, you stood on the frosty street, hand raised to knock on the door of your own home.

Your hair was messily braided, strands matted together in a mixture of ash, gunpowder and mud. Dark circles sat under your usually bright hues, clothes battered and one arm carefully cradled in a sling.

"(Y/n)?", Lydia blinked, her words no more audible than a breath.

To your sore and heavy eyes, your wife was a gift. Mouth parted, the glittering hazel in her hues growing wide in her shock and porcelain skin marred with the obvious lines of worry that only did more to pronounce her beauty.

Having only emerged recently from the horrors of the warzones, from the violence and unlimited dangers you were forced to face on the daily— including your injuries, you trembled. You could hardly believe you were home, alive, never to go back.

Your chest tightened suddenly, face crumpling with the tears you'd long been holding in since you left for the battlefields. "Lydia", you choked out, stumbling the remaining few steps between you on weak legs.

Her arms engulfed you eagerly within seconds, suffocatingly tight. "You're alive!", you heard the wonder and relief in her sobs as she clung to you. "I've missed you, I— I was so worried that you—".

"I know. I know—", you stammered, gasping for breath through your tears. "We were ambushed by Templars some weeks ago. I couldn't save everyone— I couldn't—".

"Shh, now", Lydia hushed you, pulling back to cradle your face in her palms. So warm and full of life. Just as you'd remembered in your dreams. "What matters is, you're home safe".

Her smile, just as wicked as her grandfather's, ensnared you all over again. You waited no longer, taking her lips in a fervent and long-awaited kiss beneath the dangling mistletoe.

"You must have missed me just as much", Lydia offered a lighthearted joke, gasping through the next contact of your lips.

Your mouth curled against hers, murmuring, "Winston Churchill sends his regards".

"Bless his heart", Lydia sighed, eyes growing misty once more. "He really did it. He got you home on Christmas Eve".

"So did you", you breathed out, watching it crystallise in the breeze around you. "No one would have found me— thought to look for me, if it weren't for you. You never gave up on me, Lydia".

"I never will", her forehead met yours, gaze as adoring as the day you'd stood in your own private altar in the countryside. "Not ever".

Her lips warmed the tip of your nose, irking you to giggle. "Going somewhere this evening?", you bit your own lip to restrain your teasing smile.

"No", Lydia's head shook with her own devious smile. "At home with the wife tonight. We have a lot of catching up to do this Christmas".

The End. . .

__________________________________________

Hello, all!! 🥰

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to every single one of you!! 🎄☃️🎉🥳💖🫂

I hope you've all had the most spectacular holiday season, however you celebrate it! I wish good health and good fortune for your Christmas and the year ahead, but also to thank anyone and everyone who has supported my works this year. I'm grateful to you, including all of the friends I have made in this fandom and beyond! Thank you all!! You're magnificent ❤❤

As always, please tell me how I went with writing these with any feedback you have. I hope you all enjoyed!! If you wish to be a part of my taglists for this fandom or any of the ones I write for - check out my Masterlist and let me know!!

~ Elena ♡

-

TAGLIST; @deadlymistletoe

[glitchedsecrets]

I don't know if anyone else has made the joke, but I saw this meme and kept giggling thinking about it with the twins

[waltzingonrooftops]

Sneak peaked of my 9 fanart challenge (I picked so I can draw my favorite assassins in the series, there are: Yusuf Tazim, Edward Kenway, James Kidd, Aya, Bayek and Hytham, and the Fryes assassins are my favs so they have to be on top 🥰)

[howtotrainabraincell]

Nightmare

A/N: Had a really horrible nightmare and this is what I thought of in trying to calm myself down. Who better to help than my favorite twins?

Jacob and Evie Frye

In Jacob's case...

She was on the train when she had it. It woke her up suddenly, shaking in terror as tears fell in sudden succession. She felt like she couldn't breathe, and she felt panic as her eyes darted to every part of the room looking for a threat that wasn't there.

Jacob having a habit of holding her when they sleep is woken up by the lack of her safely in his arms. Groggy he searches for her, the search not taking long when his eyes fall onto her back where she sits not too far away on the edge of the bed.

Still wrapped in the sheets her shoulders are moving in quick succession and he can hear her soft sniffles. It isn't long before her hand reaching up to wipe at her face is the definitive sign that she's crying.

Hoping not to scare her he speaks gently, moving to sit up as he speaks, so his movement alerts her of him being awake.

"Love? What is it? Are you alright?"

A few seconds pass before she responds softly. "Nightmare."

He understands nightmares. He has some scary ones himself that keep him up later than he would like. Seeing how affected she is he becomes concerned for his love, realizing that this is one of the worst ones she's had.

When he reaches up to gently touch her shoulder, he's instantly concerned by how she flinches and turns to look at him. Upon asking what happened the younger Frye immediately feels sympathy for her. He knows that now isn't the time for jokes, so he opts to offer her something more helpful.

“Would you like me to distract you?”

It’s a few moments before she responds stuck in her own head.... before she reaches over to grab his hand and cling to it weakly. “I just need you here with me.”

She lays back down allowing Jacob to wrap her in his waiting arms and Jacob will hold her for as long as she needs hoping to give her as much comfort as she brings him.

In Evie's case...

They were together at her love's home spending some time together and when it got too late (read: who are we kidding these two planned to have this sleepover lol) and the elder Frye ended up spending the night.

They've reached the point in their relationship that they've told one another about their dreams. Evie has shared her occasional nightmares, and her love has shared with her that she has her own. Secretly her love had hoped Evie's presence would keep the nightmares at bay, but their night together comes after a gang war earlier that day...where a Blighter killed a child.

She wakes up in a cold sweat before checking to see that she hasn't woken Evie up. She didn't. The assassin is still fast asleep and sprawled out peacefully beside her.

A glass of water will help, she thinks.

It doesn't. So, she sits in front of the window in her bedroom and watches the streets of London at night.

It isn't too long until Evie wakes up. She figures that her love will return in a moment as it isn't unusual for her to get up for some water or a pair of socks. But when she feels the lack of warmth on her lover's side of the bed, she knows that it's been some time since she was in bed.

And so, the search for her love begins. But she doesn't search for long, finding her on the window bench tucked against the glass.

Evie knows that the nightmare must have really shaken her because her skin is cold to the touch, meaning she's been out of bed for a while without warmth - and if Evie knows anything about her love, it's that she doesn't like being cold.

Her words are gentle as she sits beside her on the bench, placing a light hand on her knee. "Sweetheart, are you alright?"

Her voice cracks. Evie can tell that she's been crying. "I had a nightmare."

"Would you like to tell me? Or just sit here together?"

She fiddles with the hem of her nightgown. "It's...a lot."

Evie smiles at how her love tries to spare her talking about her feelings, although she has listened to the elder Frye's own troubles without hesitation too many times to count before.

"I'm more than willing to listen love."

She’ll patiently listen to her rant about the nightmare even if it doesn’t make sense or she rambles in fear about it, unable to stop her panicked babbling. Evie finds her love endearing as she worries about her incoherent rants annoying the assassin. Evie isn't annoyed at all. She's concerned for her love and understands where she's coming from.

The two talk for a long time and when the sun starts to come up, they watch the new day come alive together. Evie looks to her love to ask her if she would like a cup of coffee...only to find her peacefully resting against her shoulder fast asleep.

[jacob-frye-appreciation-blog]

AWWW this is so cute and precious

🥹🥹🥹

Could I get some nervous Jacob before his wedding to F!reader?

26/08/2024: Hello! Am I back? I shall try. I am not without . I just need to organise my time enough to write it all down. Hopefully, things will get better and more active from now on. A slow but steady process, I hope T__T But for now, enjoy!

Link to Main Masterlist Assassin's Creed Masterlist Link to Red Dead Redemption 2 Masterlist

Nervous Jacob Frye Preparing for his Wedding...

His fingers fumbled with his bowtie. He’s tried to fix it six times now, each one more crooked than the last.

“Come on, you stupid thing…��� Taking a deep inhale through his nose, he exhaled slowly, bathing briefly in the momentary wave of calm that washed over him.

Slowly, he starts again.

Cross, under. Fold, over. Under, through, pull…

Grabbing the two ears, he adjusts again, slowly this time.

A fluffy, forest green bow sat comfortably against his neck, the silk shimmering against the bright morning light refracting through the window.

The manor house was bustling downstairs; the preparation for the ceremony and reception was underway. Jacob had become overwhelmed with the set up and decided to get ready a few hours early, away from the constant bustle.

He examined his hair in the ornate mirror, brushing his fingers through his thick locks. He thought about the way you like his hair, and couldn’t stop fixing stray strands.

The last time he saw you was two days ago; bright and excited for 48 hours of parties and celebrations. Being apart for that long — the longest in a while — has made him as anxious as the day he confessed his love for you.

A knock at the door startled him. “Come in.”

Evie peeked through the door as it creaked open, a gentle smile on her face.

“How is the groom?” She teased.

“The groom… is currently having a heart attack.”

The joke eased the nervous atmosphere; a reminder that these nerves are proceeding a good thing, perhaps the best thing of Jacob’s life.

“Would you like a cup of tea or something? You have about an hour before you’re needed downstairs.”

“No, thanks.” He smiled appreciatively through the mirror. “But tell me…”

“Have the florists put up the bouquets in the hall?”

“They are the colour of wisteria and not lavender, right? Y/n doesn’t agree with lavender. She says it always gives her a funny look.”

“Are there enough chairs? I could probably run to get more if not…”

“Oh, and—”

“Jacob, shut up.” Evie cut him off with a knowing smile. “Everything is fine and going according to plan. You left me in charge, remember?”

He hummed. “Thank you, Evie.”

“… Do you think she’ll like it?”

Evie leaned against the bedpost of the four poster bed, her arms crossed. “I think she’ll love it. Truly, I do.”

She laughed. “If Henry doesn’t do half of these things, I frankly don’t want a wedding.”

Jacob chuckled, hands once again finding his bowtie before moving to his cream suspenders. “I’ll be sure to tell him.”

He sighed. “Christ, Evie… This is really happening.”

“Believe me, I’m just as surprised as you are. Who would have thought you would meet someone more chaotic than you?”

“What’s life without a bit of chaos, eh?”

Evie shook her head smiling as she took her leave. “Wouldn’t change it for a thing.”

[teecupangel]

What about a kitsune Desmond, a white fox appears shortly after Altaïr's birth white as snow with one black leg and golden eyes it follows Altaïr for his entire life seemingly never aging and smarter than any animal should be. Years after Altaïr's death Des feels a pull and shows up at the birth of Ezio and gains a second tail, the same trend continues with the Frye twins, the Kenways and the other two post Altaïr protagonists whose names escape me right now which if my math is correct leaves him able to get his ninth tail as he steals his infant self from the farm

I'd imagine he'd get more powers from each tail he grows maybe foxfire with his second (fire that burns as bright as the sun) and gaining a human form around 4 or 5

I’m going to be honest with you, nonny, I know a bit about kitsunes, specifically fox spirits, because one of my favorite characters during my childhood is Daji (specifically Dakki from the og Houshin Engi anime) and I never stopped loving her in all her malicious tyrannical glory.

While fox spirits/kitsunes can be benevolent or malicious, a lot of fox spirits are shown to be trickster.

… and seducers.

Like, being able to shapeshift into beautiful women and men who ‘bewitches’ or seduces humans are signs of how old a fox spirit is XD

But I kinda like the idea that Desmond remains as a fox the entire time, never changing in size or weight.

His tails can easily be ‘disguised’ into one tail by making sure they all move as one so it just looks like he has one big bushy tail (which is strange but not ‘mythical’ strange).

Now, we want Desmond to have 9 tails so the list of people would be:

his initial tail

Altaïr’s

Ezio’s

Edward’s

Ratonhnhaké:ton’s

Arno’s

Evie’s

Jacob’s

The ninth tail would be his own infant self.

My suggestion for his powers are, depending on how many tails he has, he unlocks:

Immortality and eternal youth (default)

Foxfire (kitsunebi) – the number he can summons grows with the number of tails he has

Dream sharing with his current connection (Ezio, Ratonhnhaké:ton, etc) – he always appears as Desmond Miles in their dreams

Shapeshifts to Desmond Miles

Shapeshifts to any human he is familiar with (having genetic connections with them makes it faster to shift to their form)

Shapeshifts to anything that is not human

Possession (having a genetic connection with Desmond Miles makes it easier to possess that person)

Ability to cast illusions that are almost impossible to distinguish from reality

Omniscience due to a direct connection with the Calculations

(These are all powers that are more or less seen in kitsune stories. If you think there’s too many shapeshifting powers, kitsunes are also known for being able to turn invisible, can fly, bend time and space or make people crazy)

Oh and making Desmond a white kitsune is *chef’s kiss*. In folklore, a white kitsune has reaches the top of its powers and is called celestial/heavenly which is a good foreshadowing on how powerful Desmond could become.

If I may suggest, whenever Desmond uses his foxfire, his tails is engulfed in white flames like this (but white and gold and without the ‘seal’:

[temeyes]

Since you've mentioned them, can you imagine the absolute chaos the Frye twins would cause if they were part of the 141?

Makarov wouldn't even make it two minutes in a fight against them lol

Evie would def get along really well with Price and Gaz since she's level-minded like them!! and prolly be besties with Ghost since they both favor stealth tactics and knives. Soap and Jacob however,,,

i agree tho, Makarov would've been done in the first 2 minutes of MWIII reboot if Soap and Jacob ever teamed up LOL

[funnyscienceman]

Ok but like WHYY did ubisoft have to insist with the one game a year thing. Why couldnt they let syndicate cook in the oven more. Why do they have THREE queer men in the same game and not do ANYTHING with them!!!

Like yes, yes, i get it, i get wanting to for once make a story in a fun setting where you dont have to think about real life prejudice and hardships and bigotry and just have characters be silly, i love that too. I do! And id be all for that if doing it just didnt waste a potentially banger study of the characters and the setting ;-;

Like god i go back and forth on this constantly. I already love syndicate as it is, i think it's fun and neat and the happy gaming vibes about it is core to its identity, it's just that simultaneous to that, three queer men in the same game!!!

like GOD im still miffed that there are only, like, two or three fics about this, and so far i havent found any discussion or anything of it, but oh my god how different all three of them are from each other. You could do so much just with having any of them in the same room — and they are often enough in the same room (jacob and either ned or roth at a time), but nothing's really done there!

we have roth who sees fcking nothing wrong with getting kids hurt, because he doesnt actually care about anyone or anything, he's just some fucking joker wannabe that yeah, sure, probably has some anger and resentment at society because he's a gay man in his 40s or 50s by now, but jesus fucking christ retaliation against homophobia does not equal rampant needless unproductive violence roth!!!

then we have ned, who — i mean he doesnt ever give his opinion on whether kids deserve any respect or anything but considering in every other department he's pretty much just Some Guy, it'd be fair to assume he also has the extremely average stance of 'dont fcking kill kids and dont blow up buildings for no good reason??' in the grand scheme of the templar-assassin stuff he has just about as much relevance as roth: roth was just the boss of the blighters, ned just finances the fryes by virtue of them working for him. He probably doesnt even know about it, and tbh i dont even know if he'd care??? But like i imagine roth doesnt care in the way of 'as long as you dont get in my way, it's all set dressing,' ned i imagine would be smth like 'are yall fckin serious? are you kidding me rn? i have to skirt around transphobes on a daily basis, now youre telling me there's a secret society on top of that with even worse ideas?? What the fuck???'

like uh, not caring about it as in 'I cant deal with this rn i need a nap'

HE'S JUST AN EXTREMELY REGULAR PERSON (besides the crime lord stuff) IS WHAT IM GETTING AT.

then there's jacob, who's the youngest out of these guys btw, fckin 21 good god he should be at the club not trying to disassemble systemic oppression— ANYWAY

(ned is 27-28 over the course of the game, btw; we dont actually have a solid timeline for anything, just the year, so tbh jacob could've also been 20 and not 21 yet during the game. both he and ned have late birthdays, just a month apart)

so, yknow, being extremely early 20-somethings, both frye twins just take a train to london completely on impulse and dive headfirst into undoing the templars that've had an iron grip over the city for basically as long as they've been alive, yknow, as you do; and throughout the game jacob has to deal with goddamn daddy issues and fighting with his sister and insecurity and trying to be an assassin — and that's a lot for a guy to handle!! Especially one who's still just a couple years out of being a teenager! That's a fucking lot and if the devs are right, then he hasnt even realized that he's bi yet! Not until roth fucking kisses him while jacob's got a knife in his throat for the aforementioned indiscriminate, unproductive violence!

i mean, granted, yeah there were gay undertones during sequence 8, but i have to admit my bias here because i honest to god cannot take those missions seriously. Roth fucking preaches this and that about freedom and whatnot and then im plopped into the mission and it's the most rule-heavy shit ive ever seen in my short life as an assassin's creed player. Like what the hell, those missions were atrocious. Apprently i need to detonate the bombs a specific way, i cant just shoot them from a distance, i have to hold a button crouching down right next to the bombs, and then run the hell away! I have to avoid THIS and THAT while kidnapping xyz! Like there's freddy's apprehend missions and then there's THIS.

at least with ned's missions all you have to do is get the shit and go… i'm still salty that ubisoft cut his questline because they fucking insist on releasing a game a year >:((

my battery's dying. All these guys are different flavors of queer on top of just being pretty different and pretty similar in various ways, and there's just… barely anything about it. Ned especially, since he's just a quest giver whose screentime totals to, like, 2-5 minutes. I just wish they really did more with the setting; not just the queerness and these three specifically, but like, evie, henry, the class conflict — like there are shreds of it, seeds, but there's not much before you kill starrick and credits roll :((

idk. im just gonna refresh ao3 again cjemddjekjx

[jacob-frye-appreciation-blog]

WOW this fanart is so cute!!!

🥰🥰🥰

Jacob Frye C’est tout pour moi Bye 👋

[fyre-mori-au]

•《 Welcome to the au 》•

Faq, intros, and refs under the cut.

Spoilers are frequent for the base game

Summary:

Fyre-mori is a post truth au following Kel four years in the future. After an unfortunate house fire, Kel has been living at the Baker family's house with his sister Sally for a few weeks. Things are a lot different since Sunny left, but as they say, history is doomed to repeat itself.

About this blog:

This blog (and au) is run by four people! We will mostly just post art, writings, short comics, and extras. We don't plan (as of writing this) to do much with the au, so don't expect a game or long form comic (yet). There will often be major spoilers for the base game, so be careful scrolling. Appropriate TWs will ALWAYS be attached to posts, and often we will leave comments. Just look for our sign offs!!

INTROS:

Patch:

Heya, I'm the owner and artist for the au. I originally came up with the idea before it spiraled into all of this. I may have had the original few ideas, but i don't take credit for a lot of the writing. These guys are super cool. I usually either draw heart-wrenching angst or stupid memes. Take your pick.

Minty:

Hi I’m MintyBreathHorizons! ( or Minty for short ). For the Frye-mori AU, I help with concepts, writing, and filling bits and pieces into unfinished parts of the story. I also am further developing the greatest character of all time, THE MAVERICK‼️‼️‼️‼️

Toast:

Hi, I'm toast. I'm just here to help the writing process go along smoothly while adding my own input and ideas. I've helped assist a few AU's and fics before, so this kinda up my alley. I'll be involved in more of the plot and character motives area of the AU.

Moon:

Hiii!! I’m Moonwolf, or just Moon for short! I spread the word of AU around to try and get more attention to it, and I also help out with other things sometimes when needed!

FAQ:

Q: Why are sweetheart/spaceboy so different?

A: The character of Sweetheart and captain Spaceboy are in-universe characters, and so Kel sees them differently. He sees his friends as the characters, thus making Spacemav and Aubreyheart!

Q: Can I ship characters?

A: Go ahead! Some of us have implied ships, but they aren't cannon depending on the ending. Only RW Aubrey & Kim and DW Sunny & Basil are cannon.

(No matter how cannon minty says goldrush is)

-Patch

Q: Can I make fan content? (Fan fics, drawings, edits, etc)

A: ABSOLUTELY! we love fan work. Just keep it appropriate and tag this blog!

Q: Who is Barley?

A: Barley is an Oc that Patch made. He's a younger sibling to the bread twins and The Maverick

Q: What ending does this happen after?

A: The good ending. Please expect spoilers.

Q: Which ending of the AU is canon?

A: All of them! That's up to your interpretation and how you want to look at the au. Imagine it like the base game. Although some aren't as pleasant as others.

Reference pages:

(current wip.)

Kel 《 Dw ¤ Rw 》

Sally 《 Dw ¤ Rw 》

Hero 《 Dw ¤ ?? 》

Aubrey 《 Dw ¤ Rw 》

Basil 《 Dw ¤ Rw 》

Sunny 《 Dw ¤ Rw 》

The Maverick 《 Dw ¤ Rw 》

Pixel art Refs

Barley 《 Dw ¤ Rw 》

[kimsaidhii]

Headcanon for Modern era!Jacob Frye and Evie Frye has a Costco Membership card thanks to their successful running “organisation” the rooks.

Jacob buys a lot of stuff that he and Evie do not need. Such as a dry chocolate cake that is MASSIVE or three racks of ribs in one packaging. Like:

“Yes, Evie, we need three racks of ribs because what if the sun comes out? We can have a barbie!— don’t give me that, it’s bloody London. Oh, sorry dearest sister for tryin’ to jump at the opportunity for a nice grill when the sun’s out.” He pauses, either for dramatic effect or catching his breath. Evie doesn’t know

“Which is never, by the way.” He unnecessarily added

And Evie is no better, I think. She would stand in those areas where all the folded brand clothes and look through them. Jacob is stuck with the job of pushing the cart meaning (probably leaning back and forth and whining for his twin to hurry up) that he’s also stuck with Evie picking out new clothes for him because the one he has is dirty, tacky and old (inspired by Evie’s train dialogue in the actual game! “Don’t you have a nicer outfit than that?”)

But Evie is really practical and is basically like a mother figure to him (love that) so he’s standing as Evie thoughtfully decides which one she should pick, quickly shifting the clothing hangers in front of him and imagining what he’d look like.

“Not now, Jacob. And can you stand still, unless you’d want me to pick something far less “fetching” and toss it into the cart. Be my guest.”

Either way, the Frye twins are here for a good deal and free samples for lunch. Jacob likes it because it’s unlimited and free whilst Evie likes it because it broadens her horizons in culinary taste— or simply, trying something new.

[bookworm-with-coffee]

WIP Game!!!

Thank you for the tag, @ladysaturnsdust and apologies for the lateness!! ♡♡♡

Rules: make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Here are the main ones I'm attempting to work on! Life has been super busy this past year so I've not been writing as often, but I'm still doing as much as I can!

( This excludes my forgotten and abandoned drafts. I have more WIP's, believe me )

♡♡♡♡ ◇ ♡♡♡♡ ◇ ♡♡♡♡ ◇ ♡♡♡♡ ◇

1. The Love That Binds Us (Frye Twins x Reader) [PLATONIC/FAMILY] - Set in 1888 (Jack the Ripper era), you may be the only one who can save London from the man you once considered a brother. < STATUS: complete, unpublished >

2. Beautiful Things (Vex x Reader) [ROMANTIC] - A Grimm and Lost Girl crossover and enemies to lovers fic centered around Vex and an unlikely foe, soon turned friend. < STATUS: incomplete, unpublished >

3. The Call (Assassin's Creed) - Set in the modern day, based on AURORA's song for the franchise's 15th Anniversary, "Hunting Shadows" < STATUS: planning/brainstorming >

4. ~Untitled~ (Jacob Frye x Reader) [ROMANTIC] - Jacob reunites with his childhood friend in London after some years of being apart. < STATUS: incomplete, unpublished >

5. Just a Kiss This Christmas (AC 3, Rogue and Syndicate Boys x Reader) [ROMANTIC] - Individual Christmas themed imagines centered around our favourites: Haytham Kenway, Connor/Ratonhnhaké:ton, Shay Cormac, Liam O'Brien and Jacob Frye. < STATUS: almost complete, unpublished >

6. ~Untitled~ (Vex x Reader) [ROMANTIC] - More Vex appreciation, centers around his redemption arc and "supposedly" non-existent heart. < STATUS: incomplete, brainstorming >

♡♡♡♡ ◇ ♡♡♡♡ ◇ ♡♡♡♡ ◇ ♡♡♡♡ ◇

Send asks for more information or a short snippet! 😉💖

Six tags for six WIP's!

@fizzyxcustard @evenstaredits @wyyvernn @demigoddessqueens @6lostgirl6 @deadlymistletoe 💖💖💖

[duckapus]

Squid Memes Squidbeak Splatoon (part 2)

Part 1 Here

More Harbor because he gave me Brain Worms

Born and Raised in Littol Beeg Bluff (yes the same Littol Beeg Bluff from "The Ballad of Dusty Grumpton" in the Factory Reset AU. I'm allowed to re-use my own ideas if I damn well please)

Comes from a blended family, and his stepmom and younger siblings (twin boy and girl around eight) are actually Koopa Troopas of all things.

The only playable Agent to both know and like his parents

Seriously Habor's moms are fucking awesome. Everybody in the NSS loves Harbor's moms

About 80% Humboldt Squid (aka Jumbo Flying Squid), which is why he's so fucking tall. It also means that he's really fast in swim form, to the point that he could probably outswim someone who'd filled all the slots on a piece of gear with Swim Speed Up without any Swim Speed Up investment of his own. (this is inspired by Lucky, another, very different version of Agent 4 made by EikaPrime on Ao3)

Eight

Yes she just goes by Eight. She was a little self-conscious about it at first but then she found out about SMG4 and the other SM64 Blooper Youtubers and no longer gives a shit

If she remembers her old name yet she's not mentioned it

Obviously doesn't remember her parents, but given the Domes are the kind of place where you can Start Training to Become an Advanced Military Hardware Engineer and Elite Soldier at Fucking Nine Years Old, I imagine she wouldn't have many memories of them even without the Amnesia

Contrary to popular fanon, my version of Eight doesn't have a scar from the Test Failed Bomb. This is because Respawn Pads (as long as they're fully functional) completely erase whatever the fatal injury was, leaving no trace apart from maybe some phantom pains if it was particularly nasty

She does, however, have plenty of scars from all the other shit she went through in that hellhole

Managed to complete every single test before she escaped

My version of Eight is a single year younger than Marina canonically is when they meet so I'm not going the Off the Hook Adoption route for this one (maybe in another AU with a more lose interpretation of Canon, but given this AU is specifically meant to adhere to Splatoon Canon as much as possible we're out'a luck this time), though she does still become very close friends with them

She's got Craig literally right there for any potential adoption attempts anyway

Very rarely speaks, but is expressive enough that most people can tell what she means anyway (you know Ferb? It's the exact same thing as what Ferb does)

Doesn't have a weapon preference. She's comfortable with any weapon she gets her hands on

Except Splatanas

She fucking hates Splatanas and everything they stand for

Configuring Frye's Palette in the Memverse was legitimately harder than dealing with her own Palette's stupid "Hacks or Chips, you can't have both" Gimmick Bullshit

Andi Finn

Has no fucking idea who her parents were and does not care

Actual supergenius who could probably build a functioning replica of Grizz's rocket out of scrap metal from just her memory of fighting on top of it. Never learned how to read before the NSS got ahold of her because she lived alone in the desert

Swears more than Bob

Can't remember where she learned Salmonid from

Somehow even the homeless kid has better hygiene than Paige

Made up her last name on the spot when she was signing up for a Turfing License (if you're wondering how she managed to sign up for a Turfing License when she couldn't read; With Great Difficulty)

Figures she probably isn't a full Inkling given her weird beartrap beak but doesn't give enough of a shit to take a DNA test about it

Yet

Paige dragged her home to their apartment almost immediately after the final battle against Mr. Grizz and she never left. It's not an official adoption but that's only because Paige is a bit oblivious to their own feelings on the matter and Andi doesn't know that paperwork is supposed to be involved

Almost exclusively calls Paige "Cap" even when they're out of uniform. I mean, she can't very well call them "Mom" or "Dad" since they're nonbinary, now can she? Paige has no idea that's what she means by it and just thinks it's a nickname because Andi gives everybody nicknames. Usually as insults

It took her 333 tries to get through "Splitting Crosshairs" (I legitimately Cannot beat that stupid kettle no matter how hard I try and want her to share my frustration but also want all four agents to have 100%ed their respective adventures so I'm just having it take her a comically long time to do)

Mains Explosher because it's the closest she can get to a Turf-Legal grenade launcher (for now...)

The Eternal Hunger, Devourer of the Bear

Is fine with people using Crabcake instead

Uses It/Its exclusively

Officially designated Agent 5 I will die on that hill

Was "The Eternal Hunger, Stabber of Ankles" before going through Return of the Mammalians

Will stab anyone who points out that it didn't actually eat Mr. Gizz, he just exploded

Extremely eloquent, but most people can't speak Salmonid so it just sounds like it's making the same gurgley noises as every other Smallfry

Once looked Marie dead in the eyes and said "No one will ever believe you" in perfect Inklish while they were alone. Has never said anything else in anything other than Salmonid where someone can hear it

Andi and Crabcake fucking hated each-other for the first third of their adventure before bonding over kicking Frye's ass and now they're inseparable

Actually gets its own uniform after everything's said and done. It consists of a little high-rez safety vest (like the one on Paige's field uniform), an earpiece (suction-cupped in place since it doesn't have external ears) in the same style as Andi's headset, and a clean black-with-thin-yellow-racing-stripes-on-the-sides pants...wrap...thing

It also got a new switchblade from Sheldon (the old one got lost in the space battle after it turned into Hugefry) with the same kind of black-with-blue-LEDs aesthetic as Paige's gear and a blade made of Sardinium

Also thinks that it and Andi are already adopted by Paige but that's for Salmonid Culture Reasons instead of Not Having an Education Reasons

Got separated from its swarm during a Run a few months before Return of the Mammalians. It wasn't too fussed about it and figured it could handle itself in the desert for a while and then either reunite with that swarm if it ran into them or join a new one if it happened to come across one. Because Salmonid Culture

Considers the NSS its current swarm

[brunuhvielle]

Evie & Jacob Frye

He could never bear to be long apart from his twin. Even as children, they would creep into each other’s beds and sleep with their arms entwined. Even in the womb.

Loving and fighting, accusing, denying, I can't imagine a world with you gone. The joy and the chaos, the demons we're made of, I'd be so lost if you left me alone...  Hold on, I still want you. Come back, I still need you. Let me take your hand, I'll make it right.

[howtotrainabraincell]

Just a little thought I had

I recently heard someone talk about having "scary dog privilege" and it got me thinking...that could also apply to humans could it not?

This is embarrassing but oh well in the hole of the internet why not write this and get it off my chest? Being around the Frye twins would certainly put you into a position where not many people would want to tread on your toes.

Imagine being in London during the time of AC: Syndicate with the Frye twins waiting for a contact to arrive. Evie sits on your left next to you reading a book about botany ('cause we know this girl has got a love for plants) and you read it with her. Your attention is of course divided between her and Jacob, who is to your right pacing and playing around with his top hat. He seems like the type to pop it open when he's bored no? He wonders out loud where your contact is while Evie waits patiently. Despite Jacob's antics mumbling to himself, telling you corny jokes, and trying - and failing - to bother Evie who has a talent for putting up with his attempts to get a rise out of her.

It's early morning in the Autumn after a fall rain, wet and crisp leaves litter the ground below. Your contact is a baker who told you to meet them before they open their shop and to stay hidden to keep safe from Templar and Blighter eyes. As you sit there with the twins the sun rising behind the bricked buildings and lighting up the sky, you feel at peace. The dying green of the trees reminds you of Jacob's Rooks and you laugh to yourself about how Evie seems to genuinely enjoy the morning, while Jacob merely seems to tolerate it. You had had to lure him out of bed with a cup of earl grey and a slice of sponge cake, which he had eaten with a cute little pout.

No one would bother the three of you. Jacob's reputation and Evie's intimidating gaze alone assured that. You felt safe around them - despite gang wars, and Blighters, and that weirdo Templar with the God-awful mustache you wish you could rip off his face - you really did. They brought chaos into your life yes, but also peace and safety when the waters settled. In a way you felt like the twins were your own personal bodyguards. Evie being cautious and assuring that you were always well and consistently checking in, and Jacob being the one to bring a bit of fun and spontaneity into the mix keeping you safe despite the trouble he would sometimes drag you into.

Jacob comes over to you and sits beside you, giving his signature Frye grin of mischief, and you think he's up to something Evie will have to box his ears for...until he holds up a leaf to you.

"It's beautiful." he boops your nose with the leaf gently. "Like you."

(I thought about this the other day - as one does when you create scenarios in your head as you fall asleep. Unless I'm a wacko who does that as a result of an underlying health issue... Any who! It had me kicking my feet and I thought I would share it because why not?)

[dirtyasscreedsecrets]

'I couldn't focus when playing Syndicate’s hypnotist mission, especially when I have a hypnosis kink. I kid you not, when I heard The Frye Twins hypnotized voices - WOOO! It got me all hot and bothered! 🥴 I couldn't stop imagining about having either one of them under my control, or reverse.'