#ac jacob frye

[xduenvev]

Oh I guess I forgot to post this

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Sɑνe ɱe ʄɾσɱ tɦe ɗɑɾƙ || Jacob Frye ||

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

Warnings: descriptions of blood, loss life / child death

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That’s when he saw it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

And that's when he heard it.

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

His children...

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

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

It was Jack.

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

The Ripper.

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

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

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

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

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

But it was too late.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His throat burned as he screamed their names.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You and the children were here to stay.

[the-wayne-manor-library]

Jacob Frye poster design by me :)

I personally love the way I lined up his name with his cape

I’m working on my poster design skills to help with my art.

[hoodedboy79]

Of Rain and Confession/Jacob Frye

Jacob's actually present in this one 💀

-(Male Prostitute Reader)-

=========

Jacob Frye was a strange man.

A strange man indeed, a man that wanted so much from you yet so little, a man that wanted you close yet at arms distance all at the same time.

This 'push and pull' type relationship you two shared was exhausting. It was clear to both of you that neither one knew exactly what they wanted from the other but you both chose to ignore it in favour of the fleeting moments of closeness you could share with the other.

Jacob's eyes would linger, but only for a second, as if afraid of what might happen if he allowed himself to feel too much. And you...you tried to convince yourself it was just another transaction, another job, but the way his presence unsettled you went far beyond any payment. It was the silence between words, the tension in the air, that made you wonder—just for a moment—if there was something more, or if you were simply fooling yourself.

Sometimes Jacob would stay a while after he finished, laying down behind you, wrapping his arm firmly around your waist and keeping you close, head tucked into your nape, like a lovers embrace. Yet other times he would be snatching his discarded clothes off the floor and tugging them on before you even had a chance to fully realise it was over, and then he was out the door, leaving nothing but a few extra shillings behind on the dresser for you before getting lost in the crowd of patrons that littered the place.

It was almost an unspoken truce that existed between you. It was easier to avoid the questions that hovered in the air, the ones that neither of you were brave enough to ask. Why did he keep coming back? Why did you let him? What was this thing that tangled you together in a way that felt both intoxicating and unbearable?

Jacob's inconsistency frustrated you, but it also fascinated you. He carried himself with the confidence of someone who knew exactly what they wanted, yet every interaction with him told a different story. When he was near, there was a tension beneath the surface, a struggle he could never fully hide. And when he left, there was something in his eyes—guilt, perhaps, or fear, or something else entirely—that lingered long after the door closed behind him.

It was in those rare moments when he stayed, his breathing steady and warm against your skin, that you thought you understood him. He was a man at war with himself, torn between desire and denial. He wanted this—wanted you—but couldn't bring himself to accept what that meant. Not for a man like him, someone who wore his identity like armor, who moved through the world as though it owed him nothing and yet took what he wanted with reckless abandon.

But then he was gone again, and the reality that you didn't know him, didn't understand him—at least not fully— hit like a ton of bricks.

And then you were off with the next customer.

One night, after another of his abrupt departures, you found yourself staring at the coins he'd left behind. It wasn't the money that bothered you, any shame you might've once felt faded years ago—it was what it represented. A transaction, a barrier, a refusal to let this be anything more than what it appeared to be, a customer paying for your service.

But you knew better. You saw it in the way he lingered when he thought you weren't looking, in the way his hands trembled sometimes when he touched you, as though he couldn't quite believe he was allowed this closeness.

He wasn't the first man to question himself, wasn't the first to feel the crushing weight of shame but still allow his pockets to be emptied into your hand, wasn't the first to try and run— both from himself and the establishment— but with Jacob Frye you felt the need to give more than just some shallow reassurance but you weren't sure if he'd ever let you.

Jacob wasn't the first but he also wasn't like the others who came to you in a haze of desperation, seeking solace in your touch only to retreat into the shadows when the act was done, acting as if you'd poisoned them. There was something different about him, something raw and unformed, as if he were constantly wrestling with a truth he couldn't—or wouldn't—name.

It wasn't pity that made you feel this way; you'd long since hardened yourself against such emotions. No, what you felt for Jacob was something far more complex, an ache that wasn't entirely your own. You saw parts of yourself in his struggle, fragments of a person trying to both claw their way out of and retreat back into the shell society had forced them into.

And yet, every time you thought he might crack, that the armor he wore might finally give way, he pulled back. It was maddening, and it left you questioning why you cared so much in the first place.

A part of you always argued that you shouldn't care, it wasn't your job to care, that you should treat him just as any other customer, but you never do.

The next time he came to you, it was pouring rain outside. He looked different—soaked to the bone, hair plastered to his forehead, eyes dark and wild. He didn't speak at first, just stood in the doorway like a man unsure of whether he'd made a mistake coming here. A doubt he always had when coming here.

"Jacob," you said softly, stepping aside to let him in. He hesitated, then crossed the threshold, shaking off the rain as though he could shake off whatever was tormenting him.

He didn't reach for you right away, as he usually did. Instead, he paced the small room, his boots leaving wet footprints on the worn floorboards. "I don't know what I'm doing here," he muttered, almost to himself.

"You say that every time," you replied, leaning against the bedframe. "Yet you always end up here." Always end up in bed, always end up regretting what had happened but still seeking solace in your arms.

Jacob stopped pacing, his shoulders hunched, his voice breaking when he finally spoke again. "I don't want to end up here. But I do. I don't know why..." He trailed off, his words dissipating into the silence between you.

You watched him, wondering how many layers of himself he had buried beneath that cocky exterior. Wondering if he'd ever allow himself to be honest with you.

"You never have to explain," you said, your voice low but firm. "But you're here because you want something—something I can't give you, not fully, not the way you need. And you know that."

Jacob stayed silent for a long time, his gaze fixed on the floor, as if the weight of your words had struck him harder than any blow. He shifted uneasily, his hands fidgeting at his sides, and for a moment, the bravado he wore so effortlessly was completely gone.

In a moment of frustration, clearly with himself, Jacob snatched the hat that seemed to be almost always perched upon his head, his fingers repeatedly drumming against the brim as his other hand was pulled through his locks, gripping tightly—as if the feeling would ground him.

"You think...you think there's something more than this?" he asked, his voice strained with a vulnerability he usually kept hidden or had never felt before.

You didn't have an answer right away, because you weren't sure either. All you knew was that every moment spent with him felt like a tangled mess of emotions, but underneath it all, there was something real—something worth exploring, even if it was terrifying for both of you and almost undoubtedly would lead you both to ruin.

"Maybe," you said quietly. "But you have to let yourself feel it. I can’t do that for you."

Jacob's jaw clenched even tighter as he processed your words, and for a moment, he looked like he might turn and walk away, again. But he didn't. Instead, he took a step closer to you, closer than he'd ever allowed himself before, as if he was finally willing to confront whatever it was he’d been trying to run from.

The rain continued to fall outside, the sound like a soft drumbeat against the windows. It was a cold night, but there was warmth between you, a warmth that neither of you had fully acknowledged until now.

You didn't say anything else, not needing to. You both knew this was far from over, that there were still so many barriers to break down, so many fears to face.

But for the first time, the distance between you didn’t feel quite as insurmountable.

He was still a man struggling with himself, and you were still a man who had no guarantees—but there was something to hold onto, something that was just beginning to form, like the spark of a fire that might yet catch.

And for the first time in a long while, the uncertainty that usually clouded over you both—felt miniscule in comparison to the relief of being able to let go, ignore society's expectations and judgment even if only for a small, secretive moment—this was a step forward, however small, but a step nonetheless.

=========

Was originally going to give this a bad ending but decided not to at the last second and came up with this instead.

Hope this was decent!

[mayalacookie]

More doodles of him I did at work <3

+ Me silly self ship

[jinaprivat]

It's Halloween time 🎃🎃

I'll try to do as many AC protagonists as possible but I'll need help with the type of monsters they should be 🤔 so please if you have any idea feel free to tell me 🥲

Evie and Jacob were obvious : Vampire and Werefolf ! I also have ideas for Henry, Arno and Aveline

[larksea]

Decay

[glettokono]

sometimes...................we need to remember..................................................our rooks.....oh i mean roots

[timdrakesbussy]

french frye has to be one of the best crackship i have ever witness in my life and that’s saying a lot

[temeyes]

continuing my not really-annual redraws of the frye twins busts lol!!!

[2017 | V2] | [2020] | [2021]

[tesb]

ASSASSIN'S CREED SYNDICATE (2015) dev. Ubisoft Quebec

[howtotrainabraincell]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[hoodedboy79]

The Weight Of Silence/Jacob Frye

-(Male Reader)-

Jacob isn't really present in this, more so a man (the reader) trying to decide what to do with their feelings. Jacob's just mentioned.

=========

He was at a crossroads and whichever path he chose would ruin someone's life.

If he kept his mouth shut, he cursed himself. Cursed himself to a life of continuous pining, a life of hiding. Not only himself physically, too overcome with shame to be seen in public, but also his desires, his most intimate desires that seemed to have him cusping on the brink of madness.

But, if he opened his mouth, he not only ruined his own life but also dragged the man he was infatuated with down with him, the enigma that was Jacob Frye, something he could never forgive himself for if he did.

That's if he lived long enough to have any regrets.

Both decisions left him short of breathe, caused his head to start pounding like his brain was a caged bird trying desperately to free itself.

He silently wished there was someone here to run their calloused hands through his hair, down his temple and cup his cheek as if he was the most delicate thing he had touched, like they had done so many times before. Times that were confined to the shadowed corners of London.

Alas, that someone was nowhere to be found.

The faint gaslight of London’s streets cast long, shifting shadows on the walls of the narrow alley where he lingered, shivering—not just from the cold, but from the weight of his thoughts. His gloved hand clenched tightly around the lapel of his coat, as though holding himself together might stop him from falling apart entirely.

The danger was not just theoretical; he had seen it before. A man dragged from a pub by a jeering mob, his pleas for mercy swallowed by their laughter. Another caught in an embrace he shouldn't have been, disappearing into prison or worse, never to be spoken of again. To love like this, to want like this, was to walk a tightrope above an abyss where ruin was inevitable.

Yet when Jacob smiled—God help him—that reckless, lopsided grin, the world felt lighter, as if all the darkness and soot that weighed down the city couldn’t touch him. Jacob carried an aura of defiance, a confidence that suggested he feared nothing and no one. But did that include this? Did it include him?

The man leaned back against the damp bricks, closing his eyes, the memory of Jacob’s voice haunting him like a melody he couldn’t forget. They’d shared a drink just last week in a dimly lit tavern, their knees brushing under the table. It had felt like an accident, at first. But Jacob hadn’t moved away, and neither had he.

If Jacob did share his inclinations, if there was even a chance... could he risk it? Could he risk the wrath of a world that would brand them both as outcasts—or worse?

Could be risk possible retaliation?

He couldn’t know for sure, and that uncertainty was its own kind of torment.

The clang of a distant bell broke him from his thoughts. Midnight. He had to move. Standing here, lost in indecision, would solve nothing. His boots echoed on the cobblestones as he made his way back into the bustling streets, careful to avoid the watchful eyes of constables and curious passersby.

If he were to confess, he would have to tread carefully. Find the right moment, the right words. And even then, the gamble might cost him everything.

As he turned a corner, the dim glow of Jacob’s hideout came into view. His heart raced, not from the cold but from the anticipation—and the fear.

Would tonight be the night he spoke his truth? Or would he retreat once more into the shadows, where secrets like his belonged?

The decision loomed, as heavy and suffocating as the smog over London.

==========

Jacob's my favourite character but the one I struggle to write for the most 😪

I'm going to try and write some more for Assassins Creed eventually, maybe try and actually write something with Jacob in it and not just mentioned.

Hope this was decent!

[mayalacookie]

I am definitely not feeling it rn but I wanna keep up my silly doodle trend cuz why not lmao

[jinaprivat]

Frye twins icons ! 🐦‍⬛

The two pictures at the bottom are the old ones from last year that I did during a university lecture, so they were quite rushed 😅

[jacobfryeslover]

He so stupid