#So intrusive with my brain scrambling to come up with relevant tags just because I got that annoying warning

[xxxpu55yslay3rxxx]

The urge to make inane comment reblogs is so strong... 😬😥

Like genuinely I see a post I feel like I gotta do it. Only reason I don't is because it looks I'm shadow boxing. In other words, it's like talking to a wall and enjoying it.

I don't really care about looking mad to outsiders, it's just that I don't like the vibe of it. It's not that it's not healthy, it just feels more personal blog-ish with a hint of talking to ghosts. I don't want that, I want it to be more social. I want my ideas to bounce off people, not themselves.

Actually the last 2 paragraphs feel borderline irrelevant. But they're still related.

It really is hard trying not to make inane comment reblogs... 😬😥

[assassins-and-hidden-blades]

Arrows & Accidents

Request: Can I request an Ezio imagine with a gender neutral or male reader where the reader is or was a student of Ezio's and has gotten themselves injured.

Warnings: Violence, graphic detail of wound/treatment, swearing in Italian, LOTS of Italian lmfao (translations at the end)

Tagging: @marshmallow--3​ / @yourlocalfrenchie​ (I know it’s a male reader but I still tagged you guys jic)

13/06/2020: Lmao I almost killed you guys… oops. Also, this is 2.9K -- I spent all day on this because once I sorted out the plot, everything else was just *chef’s kiss* hope you enjoy!

Requested by @timbreavery​

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“You need to hit harder, Y/N.” Ezio reflected your blade effortlessly. 

“I don’t want to hurt you by mistake.”

“Who says you’ll hurt me?” He smirked, twirling his sword with a flair. 

You nodded in affirmation, and began to hail a stronger assault. Although it wasn’t enough to overwhelm Ezio, it was certainly stronger than before.

On a defensive hit, his sword sent yours flying across the training ground. “A better effort, mi amico,” he nodded approvingly. 

“Pfft.” You scoffed, going to pick up your discarded weapon. In the seconds you weren’t looking, an unknown force came into contact with your back, sending you flying to the floor and away from your sword. You laid still when you felt a blade come into contact with the back of your neck. 

“Mario is sending you on a mission which I don’t agree with. Personalmente, you do not have the experience. So you need to be ready, Y/N, or you will get hurt.” 

When he was finished, you grabbed his wrist and forcefully brought the heel of your boot into his back. It allowed you to move the blade away from your neck. With Ezio’s balance compromised, you pushed into him until he hit the ground beside you, your arm pressing against his neck and pinning his arm beside him. 

“I think I’ll be fine, Ezio.” You released him and offered a hand to help him up before readying your retrieved blade. 

“Ora, un altro?”

----------

As the sun began to set, approached the site that overran itself with Templars. Your target was the Captain, who was hiding in the area. Although it was littered in ruins, you knew the general location of him, and you were ready to bring an end to his havoc. There is rarely a proper way to prepare one to end another’s life, and normally you would avoid it at all costs, but when the end of one life could bring freedom to many, it was hard to debate the argument of life for someone so evil. 

Slowly, you weaved your way in between pillars. There were so many ways you could lose the upper hand, and so you kept vigilant when you moved. As you peered around the column, you saw him. He was patrolling with four other guards, and after assessing the situation, you weighed your options: 

You could use a throwing knife on your target and a smoke bomb to distract. 

To be more accurate, you could use a smoke bomb and charge in, hidden blade unsheathed. 

“Assassino!”

Oh, great. 

As guards unsheathed their swords and crossbows, you pointed your gauntlet at your target and let a bullet fly. As soon as the bang erupted in the air, you felt something pierce your abdomen, the force of it sending you backwards to the ground. 

Although your target got hit in the neck, you were equally as compromised in your side.

Before they could get too close, you scrambled to your feet and vaulted over a small wall, keeping your hand pressed against the wound on your waist. You kept obstacles between you and your opponents, knowing that the only way to survive was to escape. As you reached the edge of the ruins, you spotted a horse grazing on some hay. Wasting no time, you mounted the white mare, kicking your heels into her ribs as she took off towards the city. 

You had one hand holding the reins as the other reached for the foreign object embedded in your muscle; it was an arrow. Grasping the shaft, you snapped it in half, wincing as it shifted under your skin. 

As you reached the city, you began to turn harsh corners to stay out of your pursuers’ line of sight. Once you deemed it far enough away, you dismounted and hit your stolen steed on the flank, making sure she fled through the streets. Eyeing a side alley, you slipped between flailing drunkards before turning one last corner, fully out of sight. Moving like you had had caused the arrowhead to move, and in doing so your robes were coloured more with crimson than with its original white. You slid down against the wall clutching your wound, needing to slow the world as it spun around you. The adrenaline was wearing off and the pain was increasing tenfold. Feeling the blood soak your palm, you toyed with the idea of pulling it out to save your flesh from tearing more (or to bring death faster).

You knew you had to get back to Tiber Island, but you were sure that you’d draw too much unwanted attention to yourself if you took the main roads, and would almost certainly collapse without a horse. You rested your head against the bricks, willing an idea to pop into your clouded brain. 

Small thuds beside you caught your attention, and you turned your head to see a group of thieves land next you. One of them, who was probably the one in charge, pulled your hood off your head, taking in your features; pale, sweaty, barely conscious. “It’s Y/N!” He exclaimed. His eyes turned to the others. “Riccardo, get Ezio. Tell him that we’re bringing him to La Volpe Addormentata. Sbrigatevi!” One of the leanest nodded his head and took off running down the alleys. “Ora,” he spoke softer now. “Aiutami con lui.” 

Two of them grabbed your arms and lifted you to your unsteady feet. The movement stretched your side. “Agh!” Your legs buckled, and your sudden dead weight pulled everyone to their knees. 

“Mio Dio,” the leader uttered. “You! Get a horse!” You heard as feet thundered against cobblestones. “Y/N, you must move.” You looked at him in anguish; he seemed twice your age, and had a fatherly look of trust in his eye. 

“Non posso…” The crimson had spread from your waist and was not being absorbed by the fabric anymore, dripping onto the ground. 

“Yes, you can; just to the main street.” You could vaguely hear horses in front of you at the end of the alley. 

You took a deep breath, calming yourself, before you nodded weakly, head hanging low. Step by step, you were half dragged to the mouth of the alleyway. Someone was already mounted on the horse as you were being hoisted in the saddle. It was a mercenary, much bigger than you, and you held on tight to the saddle with one hand as you were sent off galloping down the street, a small entourage following you. With every bump in the saddle, an ache pounded in your head; you were having trouble keeping awake, but the harsh movements wouldn’t let you go under. 

You weren’t very aware of your surroundings when the horse came to a stop. Sitting firm, you waited for the mercenary behind you to dismount, and you attempted to follow suit. Tripping in the stirrups, the impact of the floor sent your mind reeling, your foot getting trapped in the metal. Pain radiated through your body as you fell on the protruding arrow shaft. Groaning, you weakly pushed yourself up to your hands and knees, dazed and confused. “Andiamo, ragazzo.” Multiple hands heaved you off of the dirt ridden paths, hauling you up the stairs and into the Thieves’ Headquarters.

“La Volpe!” The hooded man revealed himself by the entrance. 

His eyes assessed the situation in a second. “Bring him into the back.” People parted quickly to make space for you all to make it through. “Put him on the table.” You were turned to sit down, before slowly being lowered to lie against the wood. 

Finally being out of the streets and safe in your surroundings, you allowed yourself to relax, to close your eyes, to maybe spend a few moments asleep… 

“Y/N.” Someone patting your cheek got your eyes to reluctantly open. “Leonardo and Ezio are here.” 

Leonardo?

You swallowed thickly, not having the energy to respond other than letting your head roll to the side. As they came in, you could half-make out what they were saying. “Those doctors… will be of no use to us… I know my way around a wound.” It was Leonardo, rambling on as he was gathering the relevant supplies. 

You blinked, and Ezio towered above you. “Ah, amico mio, mi dispiace tanto.” 

Before you could respond, a hand twisted the embedded arrow shaft. You threw your head back as you cried out, hands flying to the culprit’s hand. 

“Leonardo!” Ezio chastised. 

“I needed to know if it was stuck in the bone!” He quickly justified his actions, hands raising in surrender. “Take his armour off.” 

Quickly, your upper robes were discarded, leaving your chest bare and your injury exposed. You heard the movement of metal tools before you felt something cold touch your skin. Looking down, you saw a small blade that touched the edge of the arrow wound. You grasped Leonardo’s wrist. “No, please…” Pain was hitting every nerve and muscle, and you desperately wished you were unconscious, but the fact that you weren’t meant you were going to feel everything, and at this point, you wanted to feel nothing.

Leonardo looked at Ezio and La Volpe. “Hold him down.” 

Ezio grasped your hand with one of his before using his other one to put weight on your elbow, effectively pinning you to the table. La Volpe followed suit. “I don’t like this, Leonardo,” Ezio said, looking nervous.

The artist looked up seriously. “You don’t have to.”

You felt the blade sink into your skin. The lower half of your body was numb, but your back tried to arch at the intrusion; an attempt to get away. You were hyper aware of his fingers moving inside your flesh, poking at the metal inside you. “This type of arrow does not do too much damage, but it has hooked onto an organ.” Although Leonardo’s voice was calm, you couldn’t help but writhe. You could feel everything the arrow (and Leonardo) touched, finally managing to begin drifting in and out of consciousness, after what felt like hours of pain.

You were too tired. 

You heard Leonardo bracing you for removing the arrow, but you were completely limp in Ezio and La Volpe’s grasp. You swallowed again, eyes rolling back. Your face scrunched weakly as you winced; the arrow finally relinquishing its position, too tired to scream and shout. Stifling a groan, you slightly jumped when the pressure of a fabric was being applied in place of Leonardo’s fingers. The last thing you heard before your vision blacked out was, “We’re not done yet.”

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There were three instances where you briefly came to since then. The first was as your wound was being bandaged. “What are his chances?” Ezio’s voice echoed in your ear.

“Of survival?” Your eyes barely opened for a second to lock with Leonardo’s. “Small.” Although his face was comforting, his words weren’t. All too quickly, you lost consciousness again. 

The second time, you could feel your body moving as you were taken off the table and onto something soft but sturdy. Your head rolled to the side and your eyes opened to see Leonardo washing his hands in a basin. “Con attenzione, ora!” You felt your arm fall off the side of the platform you were being moved on. The rocking lulled you back into darkness.

You didn’t remember these instances.

The third and final time you came to, you had a hard time opening your eyes. It felt as if they had been sealed shut. An involuntary hum grew in your throat as you brought your arm up to rub your eyes. Even that simple movement left you aching for reasons you couldn’t remember yet. You brought your hand away as you opened your eyes. Looking around, your brows furrowed.

This wasn’t your bed, or your room… 

Pushing yourself up, you stopped abruptly, lowering yourself back down and wincing as a searing pain spread across your side. Your hand immediately went to the source, where your fingers ran across rough fabric. Looking down, you saw that your chest was still bare, although half of your torso was covered in white bandages. Looking around, you found your robes hanging up against a wardrobe across the room, clean and repaired. Your boots were at the foot of the bed. 

Trying again, you slowly sat up again, pulling the sheet off of your legs. You bent down agonisingly slowly, one arm against your side while the other grabbed your footwear. After you pulled them both on, you began lacing them up. It was at that point when the door opened. 

Looking up, you saw Ezio staring at you, surprised. “Y/N, what are you doing?” 

“I’m getting up.”

“You should be resting.”

“I’ve rested enough. How many days has it been?”

Ezio didn’t reply at first.

“Ezio; how many days?”

“Five.”

“That’s more than enough.” 

You pushed yourself up to your feet, only for your knees to buckle and send you back down to the floor, the impact of which reverberated up to your side. You grasped the bedpost for support as your breath hitched. Footsteps approached your kneeling form, but you held your hand up to stop them. “I’m fine,” you spoke through gritted teeth. Hauling yourself back up again, you leaned heavily against the wall, your legs not used to walking after five days of disuse. 

“You don’t have to pretend.” Ezio respected your need for space for a few moments, but soon moved to pull your arm over his shoulders when he saw you begin to struggle. 

“... Can you take me downstairs, at least?”

He sighed, thinking out the pros and cons. “Fine. Come.” 

Tentatively, you tiptoed down the stairs, careful not to make any jarring movements. Ezio held you securely to prevent you from falling, should you do so again. The sounds of people eating, drinking, and enjoying themselves filled your ears, and your eyes landed on a table with La Volpe -- standing up with one knee propped up against the bench -- Leonardo, and a few other thieves (all sitting properly). They seemed to be in deep conversation, but as La Volpe looked up and moved his attention to you, everyone else followed his gaze, smiles poking at their lips.

“Y/N! You’re awake, and… moving.” Leonardo shot Ezio a disapproving look. 

“I asked him to take me here.” You motioned to sit down at the table, and Ezio helped to lower you to the bench. Steadying yourself against the table, you brought a hand up to your side as your wound twinged. 

“You’re just in time for me to change your dressings.” Leonardo got up to fetch new bandages as Ezio took his place beside you. 

La Volpe sat down properly. “Y/N, what happened?”

You recounted the story in detail as Leonardo worked on your side, slightly embarrassed at your inability to stay alert that night. “It was my mistake,” you finished, wincing as the bandages were pulled tight. “I should have stayed out of sight.” 

“He shouldn’t have even been there,” Ezio quipped, closing one hand over a fist. “We almost lost one of our best students.”

You smirked. “I’m flattered.” 

Leonardo coughed to hide his chuckle, sitting on the other side of you. “Here.” He passed you a loose shirt and a drink; you thanked him and slowly dressed, being careful not to stretch your side. Taking a sip turned into gulping down mouthfuls of the liquid, parched from not drinking for days.

“If he was one of your best students, then why did we almost lose him?” La Volpe was blunt, but he wasn’t wrong.

“Because that mission was not supposed to be for him!” 

“Remember who assigned him that mission, Ezio. Your anger is misplaced.” Ezio looked between the faces at the table, huffed, and got up, heading for the backroom. 

The atmosphere grew tense, and you decided to break the uncomfortable silence. “I’ll, uh, go and talk to him.” You got up slowly, holding your side, and followed where Ezio disappeared to. 

You peered around the corner to see him leaning on the table, his knuckles pressing into the bloodstained wood. After a few moments of standing still, he cursed himself under his breath, punching the table beneath his hand. He walked to the other side of the table, folding his arms and leaning against it as he fell deep into thought. 

You decided to knock against the wall, then. Ezio turned his head to see who it was, before smiling softly and staring back at the wall. You went to lean on the table beside him, staring at the chalkboard propped up against the barrels. “You’re blaming yourself, Ezio.” You called him out on it before he could say anything, prompting an amused scoff on his part. 

“I should have pulled you out of the contract.”

You looked at him, but he still stared at the wall, seemingly too ashamed to look at you. “Why? You didn’t know what was going to happen.”

“I knew it would challenge you, but I underestimated just how dangerous it would be.”

“You know Mario wouldn’t have accepted that.”

He sighed through his nose, eyes flicking down to his boots. “I should have tried.” 

“Look at me, Ezio.” His eyes moved to yours, but his head barely shifted. “I’m alive; I’m alright.”

“We’ll see.”

You squinted. “What do you mean?”

“Leonardo told me you have a bad case of idiozia, and he is not sure if it can be cured.”

You laughed, looking away. “No, me either.”

“I know something which could help, though.”

You raised an eyebrow, waiting to see what he would say before a force came into contact with the back of your head. “Ow! Bastardo…” Ezio laughed. 

“Let’s rejoin the others.”

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Translations:

Mi amico = My friend

Personalmente = Personally

Ora, un altro? = Now, another?

Assassino! = Assassin!

La Volpe Addormentata = The Sleeping Fox

Sbrigatevi! = Hurry up!

Ora, aiutami con lui = Help me with him

Mio Dio = My God

Non posso = I can’t

Andiamo, ragazzo = Come, boy

Amico mio, mi dispiace tanto = My friend, I am so sorry

Con attenzione, ora = Carefully now!

Idiozia = Idiocy

Bastardo = Bastard