#altair ibn la'ahad x malik al sayf

[void-of-unparalled-chaos]

Colors (chapter 1/3)

In the wake of the DDOS attack on AO3 I decided to upload what I have posted from “Of Blades and Parchment” to here since the site is unavailable. The writing is a couple years old at this point and the series is unfinished (not abandoned!) but I figured that it might bring some joy to some random person waiting for the site to be back.  

Summary: Who was he to affect him in this way, to somehow get such a reaction out of him that drawn swords didn't? To make him long for contact he hadn't needed nor wanted in years?

The last two stories but it's Altaïr's perspective and he has no clue how to deal with new things or emotions.

1103 words, Part 3 of “Of Blades and Parchment” series

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31118099/chapters/76887980

Beginning of series   ----   Previous  ----  Next

  The first time Altaïr sees him, it's at the marketplace. 

    He is crouched on one of his favorite perches in the city, a tall tower with intricate tiles. It’s located in a rare blindspot, where the roof patrols don’t pass. The tower is taller than most of his other perches, but not so tall that his stomach fills with dread at the effort it would take to climb it.

   He is able to see a good distance from here, and in the afternoon sun, Altaïr switches his Eagle Vision on. The world fades to monochrome, and the sounds become muted to his ears. The assassin takes a moment to breathe in the untouched air, and then turns his attention to the streets below him.

   The people beneath his feet look like ants. He can see the red of the guards walking the streets. There is an informant a couple buildings over, and it looks as if there is a meeting of some kind between two merchants in the opposite direction, both glowing white with the promise of intel. 

   He is about to switch back to his regular vision when he sees it. A few streets over, is an ever so faint blue shape. Altaïr stares at it in confusion as it moves. This was not the first time he had seen blue of course. After all, his brothers were blue. Except for Abbas. Altaïr had never liked him, not just because of his insufferable personality or his grating voice, but because he was red. Red meant danger. It meant that Abbas was not to be trusted.

   Nevermind all of that now, why was there a blue shape in the middle of Jerusaelm?

   Altaïr would know if a brother was in the city as well, and to his knowledge, he was the only man sent for this target. He also knew he should ignore it. He had orders to follow, a man’s death to see to, but he was curious damn it!

   He glared at the shape as if that would solve the mystery, and that's when he finally realized something was...off. That glow wasn’t nearly as bright as it should be, not nearly as vibrant. He blinked, returning his sight to normal. His brows furrowed in confusion.

   While the edges of his Eagle Vision’s reach did in fact tend to become blurred and duller, the figure was close enough that it shouldn’t happen. 

   He switched back to make sure he had seen it right. It was definitely duller than it should be. He needed to figure out who this was.

   He jumped from his perch, his vision flickering back to color as he carved his way through the air and landed in the hay cart. When he was younger and unpracticed, the thought of doing such a thing would have made him nauseous, but he wasn’t a novice anymore. 

   Altaïr emerged from the cart, brushed the hay off of his shoulders, and as if he hadn’t done something death defying, walked away at a leisurely pace. He wasn’t worried about losing his new objective. The faint blue color had not been moving quickly, and it was only a few streets away. Even if this unknown person moved locations, he would still be able to track them in no time.

  As it turned out, it was not needed. He could see the man haggling for some bread. Altaïr sat on a nearby bench and turned his vision back on. The man was blue, but it was faint, just as it had been from the tower. The color was faint enough that it was more grey in nature, and he could still clearly make out the man’s features through it.

   His hair was short and darkly colored. It looked as if it was black, but it was hard to tell with the world bleached into grey around him. His jaw was sharp and lined with stubble that looked as if it needed to be shaved soon. Most notably he was missing his left arm. The fabric of his sleeve was pinned up to his shoulder, probably so it wouldn’t be caught on anything. 

   He didn’t wear an assassin’s robes, yet he still glistened that pale blue. Perhaps he was undercover? But it wouldn’t make much sense to be arguing over the price of bread while doing so. Besides, the missing limb would have made him recognizable, and Altaïr didn’t recognize this stranger.

    The man, seemingly fed up with his debate, left in a huff. He walked right by Altaïr’s bench, so close that he could touch him. Altaïr, surprised at himself, caught his hand and lowered it before he could reach the color. 

    The assassin sat in befuddlement as the man rounded the corner. Never before had he been so drawn to one’s colors. Never before had he tried to physically touch them. 

   It was the last one that shocked him the most. Altaïr didn’t particularly like contact. Yet here he was, reaching towards someone he didn’t even know the name of without a conscious thought.

   This was a bad idea. He had things to attend to.

   Altaïr stood from the bench and followed the man around the corner like a fish hooked on a line. 

   He tailed the stranger for at least thirty minutes, staying out of sight, scaling buildings and blending within the crowds. He didn't know exactly why he followed the man, nor did he know what caused him to sneak around in such a way. 

   What he did know was that the man carried himself with his head held high. He disliked the crowds, and began to grow more agitated as time went by. He seemed to have some kind of preference in paper if the ten minutes he spent judging it was anything to go by.

    Altaïr also knew that at one point he could have sworn that the man saw him, and his heart started to beat fast in his chest. Fast in the way that it beat during a fight. His breath caught in the back of his throat, and he only released it after the man looked away from his direction. 

   Who was he to affect him in this way, to somehow get such a reaction out of him that drawn swords didn't? To make him long for contact he hadn't needed nor wanted in years?

    He didn't like the way this was going. Didn't like that this man made him so nervous while simultaneously urging him closer. Didn't like that he couldn't figure out his colors.

   Altaïr buried his curiosity under his aggravation and left. 

[a-not-so-clean-blog]

Just imagine telling Malik you have a feeling for Altaïr and Maliks just:

[demigoddessqueens]

Gonna give the poor boys a heart attack but imagine how absolutely TERRIFIED Haytham, Shay, Connor, Arno, Ezio, Altair, and Malik would be if you got kidnapped. ESPECIALLY if it was by the other faction.

I mean, Haytham's sister was kidnapped, I think that's reason enough for him to absolutely panic if you were as well. The assassins know what the Templars are capable of. Especially Malik and Ezio. Shay always seems like he'd be extremely protective anyways.

And if you were hurt by your captors? Even tortured? Heads would probably roll and you probably aren't leaving your poor boyfriend's sight ever again.

First off, how dare you??! 😭💔

Second, oh boy , buckle up

haytham

he feels like his chest is about to cave in from how rapid his heart is beating when he hears the news

It’s all hands on decks to look for you and find you

when he finds you, he rushes to your care immediately and the stern facade falls as silent tears fall

shay

if this was when he’s an Assassin, he’s INCREDIBLY impulsive and hot-headed and will do anything to get you back

Templar-wise, it goes the same way only there’s more of a vicious element to it because it’s the Assassins he once knew

ultimately, when you are safely returned, he refuses to leave your side at all times

connor

There will be no remaining Templars who know peace for the short time they have remaining

This man will go above and beyond to find you, even against the better judgment he knows of what will be a dangerous situation

the moment he has you back with him, he insists to help you with anything, everything and refuses to leave your side

ezio

Oh why torture this poor man?? All of Italy and the Borgias will know his wrath!!

He REFUSES to let what happened to Cristina happen to you

As soon as you’re returned home, it’s all hands and allies on deck to help you recover, all under Ezio’s watchful eye

arno

Everything feels like it’s crashing down and he’s barely hanging on by a thread

Also a disaster like Ezio but amped up more, sobbing flashbacks between seeing your face and Elise’s

Once you’re back home, he’s always there to help you through the nightmares and gets emotional when you try to sleep or help replace your bandages

malik

Livid and so afraid for you, but he hides it behind barking orders

Altair knows better than to interfere but does all he can to help his friend

Once you’re back home, Malik constantly holds to you and worries for your safety

altair

He is livid!! The entirety of Masyaf and Jerusalem will be scoured by every inch to find you. Behind closed doors those golden eyes betray his heartbreak

No Templar is safe from his blade and he cuts them down easily

Having you back home requires all of his attention when you recover, heal and the Flying Eagle himself never letting you go far at least not without him

[greenlaut]

yusuf (son of the sea) — assassin's creed oc

(this oc is a persona of myself but as the son of altaïr and malik. for fun purposes ehe.)

backstory under the cut

cw: implied child abuse, violence

yusuf heralds from akka harbour in the middle district. he had a content and fulfilling childhood with his father (a sailor), mother, and two you ger siblings. however, when he was 7 his father got caught in a brawl with drunk sailors, thus causing a conflict that killed his family. yusuf survived because he was out fishing when it occurred.

as an orphan, he was thrown into an orphanage. the orphanage couldn't afford the upkeep and soon enough it was bought by a slaver who profited off child-brides. yusuf escaped again; he'd rather die in the streets than bound to gross men.

he was severely malnourished and cold when altaïr first found him. the master assassin just finished up a kill and was making his way home. altaïr wrapped him up in a thick scarf and offered some bread. when the assassin tried to take yusuf to an orphanage, yusuf slipped away. yusuf was not a master assassin, but he was small and quick—easily weaving in and out of crowds and wagons. it took altaïr an embarassing amount of time (an hour, longer than it should've taken him to hunt down a target) to chase down the child. at the end of it, altaïr was impressed enough that he brought yusuf along.

altaïr thought of taking yusuf to masyaf, then forgone it, and instead dropped him off without much explanation in jerusalem with malik (much to the da'i's shock, confusion, and annoyance) before he continued on his mission. malik was apprehensive at first and was about to leave yusuf in one of the orphanages in jerusalem if altaïr never return to pick up the child back. but yusuf was a nice company to have around (compared to most of the air-headed novices he had to face—the bar is low) while malik worked. the child was witty, blunt, and reminded malik of young altaïr there wasn't any formalities when yusuf got taken in by malik—he just was.

during his stay with malik, yusuf preferred to be referred as a boy or child and acted much like any other boy. yusuf was born and raised in his family as a woman, and whilst he was in the streets he didn't care much about how people view him than to survive. one day malik asked him—the da'i glanced at yusuf whilst keeping his hands on the open map before him—if yusuf would rather be identified as a man or a woman. yusuf replied that he (is) very much a boy without looking up from his needlework (he was stitching his torn pants). malik nodded and that was that.

years later, when yusuf was of age; malik took it upon himself to unearth a merchant who sold medicines for men ailed with impotency. the da'i upheld his reputation as the most feared rafiq with the exchange. since then, yusuf has had no problems with getting his (gender-affirming) medicines regularly.

then al-mualim happened and altaïr rose up as a grandmaster. yusuf stayed with malik in jerusalem until he was of age to become a novice. until that time, altaïr would visit jerusalem regularly to check in on his ward and his friend—and to escape the unbearable stuffiness that is grandmaster work. altaïr taught yusuf how to hone his strength in stealth and agility. malik taught him how to read and write. during this time, they discovered yusuf was nearsighted due to him being severely malnourished in the past (and it also stunted his growth). but yusuf was able to hid it for so long since he had been using his second vision to cover up for his nearsightedness. (altaïr was rather delighted to find someone else sharing his trait. they bonded over their shared dislike of people labeled as enemies in their eagle vision).

they keep this strange bonding activity far off into yusuf's adulthood. they sit together and view into their second vision to ruminate over people. malik would scold both of them if he catches them in the act, saying that it's impolite and dishonourable. but after one attempts too many on altaïr's well-being, he understands the need. and sometimes, he'll sit with them and ask for names. altaïr has learned how to avoid dropping names to malik. yusuf hasn't—and the assassin isn't going to try and find out what malik will do (or has done) to them.

when yusuf became a novice, malik half-jokingly told yusuf to keep an eye on altaïr for him. and so he did; whilst he worked under the tutelage of the mentors, he would check in (read: harass) on altaïr in his study. while yusuf was not the brightest novice; he kept altaïr sane and feeling human enough through the trials of leadership.

yusuf eventually finishes his training as an assassin (not master assassin). altaïr oversaw his hidden blade initiation personally out of fondness. he has no intent of becoming a mentor, and so he takes his time to loiter around masyaf and jerusalem to keep an eye for both of his pseudo-fathers. taking up available missions or errands to run without caring for ranks.

he excels in stealthwork and free-running. to deal with his eyesight, yusuf tends to find viewpoints from the highest landmark first to check with his second vision before dealing with his target. contrary to his fathers, yusuf's swordmanship is minimum. he avoids conflict when he can, and prefers to escape (by running or blending in) or stealth-kill when facing enemy soldiers.

fin.

[taepomme]

They are so close to kill each other

and after, they kissed passionately « in a manly way like they are just teammate bc its the truth, and they share absolutely no romantic type feeling, just anger » (: malik)

[tamiisnthere]

A random AU where Tami somehow ended up in the 12th century in the Holy Land or in AC1 game idk (part 1?)

Altaïr originally thought she was a witch or something because of her clothes, but when he found out Tami was actually from the 21st century, he got the idea that she would be useful to the Brotherhood with her knowledge of the future. But instead it was just facts about animals and prehistoric creatures + stupid memes he didn't understand at all.

(↓ Credits under Keep reading)

Programs: XNALara, AC Viewer (for backgrounds) & Fire Alpaca

Assassin's Creed © Ubisoft 

The Sims © Electronic Arts Games

Tami © Me (TamiIsntHere) Note: I don’t own the most Custom Content. These belong to their creators.

Altaïr’s Robes Model © LorisC93 (DeviantArt)

Lower part of Altaïr’s Robes © milance941 (DeviantArt)

Eye Textures of Alty & Malik © XXLife-Starts-NowXx (DeviantArt) Note: After a few years, I realized that the eye textures are actually from the Retexture of ACR Altaïr Model. My apologies. 😥

“Altaïr’s” Head Model © ItalianUtent (DeviantArt) Note: This is AC3 Desmond’s model, which I edited textures on it.

Altaïr’s Weapons Models © DecanAndersen (DeviantArt; deactivated)

Thorton’s Hair © deexie (DeviantArt)

Pillows, Carpet & Wall Models © raccooncitizen (DeviantArt)

[ryandoesfanart]

Part 02 of emberassed Malik!

Kinda wanna let him win~ c: Anyone else want to see Altair being submissive? Bet he can be a good boy, if he wants too <3

[abbyworlds]

No me gustó 😞

I did not like 😞

[rea-grimm]

Masterlist Assassin's Creed

Grim reaper Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad

Dragon of Masyaf - Dragon Altair x Reader

Weapon Altair

Dullahan Malik Al-Sayf

Incubi Ezio Auditore da Firenze

Weapon Ezio

Wendigo Connor Kenway

Weapon Connor

Dragon Haytham Kenway

Merfolk Edward Kenway

Weapon Edward Kenway

Vampire Arno Dorian

Weapon Arno Dorian

Demon Jacob Frye

Weapon Jacob Frye

Anubis Bayek

Weapon Bayek

Harpy Alexios

Weapon Alexios

Werewolf Eivor

Weapon Eivor

Ghost Desmond

[slices-0-0]

🤗✍🏼🙌

[dazed-poltergeist]

Powers of Eden (I)

Associated fandoms: Assassin's Creed x The Umbrella Academy

Pairing: Altaïr Ibn La'ahad x Reader (Platonic), perhaps some Altaïr x Malik in later pieces

Warnings: One (1) spoiler for The Umbrella Academy

Summary: The reader, who is similar to the "The Umbrella Academy" character Five Hargreeves, attempts to travel back in time. While it succeeds, they travel a lot further back than what they would've liked..

Add. Notes: Allow me to give some background on Five, for those who haven't seen the show: The original Five Hargreeves comes from an adopted family of 9. The siblings' names are Luther, Diego, Allison, Klaus, Ben, and Viktor, and his "parents" are Reginald and Grace. Along with his siblings, Five has superpowers, which in his case are teleportation and time travel. He used to work for a timeline related commission as an assassin. In this story, the reader/Five has no affiliation with the said Commission.

>✉️<

{ I've returned with a new piece! I'm pretty sure that I will write more parts for this, but I'm not sure how I should write a specific part related to languages without using Google Translate. So if any of you has advice related to that, I'd appreciate if you spare some for me. In any case, it looks like I managed to write something before St. Patrick's, so happy (still early) St. Patrick's Day! My so-called "spice" for this time is that I speak in English a lot more than in my mother tongue, which causes me to forget words in the latter language. }

-Eero, March 2023

Masterlist ✧⁠*⁠。

ー

When you were younger, you would practice teleporting –and on a few rare occasions, time travel– with Reginald's guidance, starting with a few small units at a time and then building up from that. On these very few occasions, he only allowed you practice time jumping to the future, and whenever you questioned him for that restriction, he would say things along the lines of "A wrong move down the line could change the whole world as we know it," "Time travel is far more complex than teleportation," and "You were not educated enough to understand time travel."

Even if what the older Hargreeves had explained to you these days was true or not, he wasn't just a prick, he was the whole cactus. Today felt like a good day to not listen to what he had told you, just to spite him. It wasn't like Reginald was going to stop you anyway; He was dead, "playing tennis with Hitler in hell," as Klaus said before his funeral.

You told Grace and Viktor about what you were going to do, even though they weren't going to know that when you meet them yesterday, the day you planned to jump back to. You strutted to the Umbrella Academy's courtyard, where after two attempts you successfully opened a way through time.

Except, when you stepped through the ripple of time and looked for signs that you actually time travelled instead of teleporting in an arduous manner, you realized that you weren't in the Academy's courtyard anymore.

You were standing on the roof of a small, sand-colored building. You could see a city around you, with a bunch of houses and towers in different shades of yellows and whites. You recognized a large building as you took in your surroundings; a blue and white temple with a gold dome acting as its roof. With the famous temple in mind, you easily concluded that you somehow ended up in Jerusalem.

Once you came out from your daze of admiring the landscape around you, you realized that a hooded man dressed in white was behind you, staring bullets into your head. You wanted to tell him about what happened to you, but given your location, you doubted that he would understand you.

The assumption ended up being correct, because he began speaking in an unrecognizable language. The only useful thing you could do in that situation was gesturing to him that you didn't understand him, which was exactly what you did. Some gears seemed to align for him, and as a response he took you by the arm and into the building below you.

The two of you landed on the floor of what seemed to be an outdoor living room. You couldn't really take in many details, since the strange man continued dragging you through the building. The room you stopped in had a collection of bookshelves, baskets, pots, and many other things, but what caught your eye was a one-armed man standing behind a table.

The cripple noticed you the moment you and the hooded stranger walked in, and began to question the latter about you. They talked for a short period of time, then the man behind the desk walked away from the table to you and the other strange man.

The two men turned to you, and tried to introduce themselves in the most simplest way they could to someone who didn't understand their language; they pointed at themselves and said their names. The now formerly hooded man introduced himself as Altaïr, and the other one with a dark robe over his similarity white outfit introduced himself as Malik. You told tell them your name in the same manner; you pointed at your torso and said "(Y/N)."

Altaïr looked at the other man and said something in his language, to which Malik chuckled and made another comment as a response.

("A name. That's a start.") ("What a funny name. You certainly weren't wrong about the 'odd person' part.")

The two began brainstorming on what they should do with you now; they couldn't let you leave the bureau, because you didn't understand their language, you likely had no idea what the surrounding world was like, and you looked like someone out of a bizarre story told by a drunk bard. All they could think of with the given circumstances was that they needed to take you in.

Malik went to one of the shelves in the room, and began looking for books that could possibly help with the language barrier. You joined him to look for documents with dates on them; you needed some year written on a recent paper, to get an idea of how far back in time you actually jumped.

Altaïr realized what you were doing, and found some excess paper to write down the year for you. You took the paper and thought that you wouldn't be surprised about the year, since their appearances seemed to give it away. Yet, you were very surprised, even for someone who just time travelled on purpose. You had jumped into the period of the Third Crusade.

You quickly recovered from the shock that came with that fact, and wrote down "2019" onto the other side of the paper Altaïr had given you. You gave the paper to him for both him and Malik to see. The two froze in place, and Altaïr dropped the piece of paper onto the ground. They turned to look at you again, and visibly wanted to ask multiple questions about the future from you; you could see the eagerness on their faces. Unfortunately, the language barrier was no help.

The presence of an inability to communicate with you made the two white-clothed men determined to try and teach you their language while you were under their wing.

For a change of scenery to let you process what happened, Altaïr took you back to the main area of the building, where he sat you down. He walked into a third room to get you some food, after Malik had left you two alone to find you some clothes that would help you blend in—to make it less obvious that you've come from 900 years into the future.

As Altaïr handed you some food, Malik came up to you two and placed a small stack of clothing next to your legs. He muttered something to Altaïr in their foreign tongue as he was walking back into what you concluded was probably his office.

("If they need help with the clothes, you can count me out.")

Since the building usually didn't have any visitors of your kind, majority of the spare clothes were related to what seemed to be their uniform. The clothes Malik had provided you included a pair of dark pants, some white robes similar to the ones Altaïr was wearing, and plain boots fit for running and climbing, along with a leather harness to keep the clothes in place. Those clothes obviously weren't what you were used to wearing, but they were relatively better than the ones you had on at the moment.

You left Altaïr alone into the main area to go change into the robes. Only after you had changed you realized that your clothes looked like a downgraded version of the two men's outfits. You concluded that the clothes they wore had different features based on ranks. You didn't even know what kind of organization they worked for or what their jobs were, so you couldn't put more thought into the conclusion that you had just made.

As you got back to Altaïr, you only then felt the exhaustion from the energy-consuming time jump kick in. Even if you would've had enough energy to try time-jumping again, you wouldn't have wanted to risk accidentally travelling into the Stone Age. The little "living room" seemed comfortable enough to be used as a bedroom, which was the reason why you lied down in the bundle of pillows that were sitting on the ground.

The white-clothed man briefly disappeared into another room and returned to get you a thin blanket. As you prepared to rest, Altaïr sat down to begin contemplating on the things he could try to do in order to help you adapt to a possible life in Jerusalem. Thanks to a sheer lack of ideas, he only thought of recruiting you as a novice for the Assassin Order.

Now that you had fallen asleep, Altaïr went to Malik to consult him on what they should do.The latter thought that recruiting you—a strange person who literally emerged out of nowhere and couldn't even speak their language–into the Order was an outrageous idea that should be out of question. The dark-coated man also added that they couldn't even take you to Masyaf to swear you in and train you there because of the language barrier. But even then, their morals told them that teaching you was the best they could do with the lifestyle they had.

The two decided to show you a little thing or two about being an assassin, without making you an official member, and see how it would go. Malik proposed that he would teach you their language whenever he could multitask, and Altaïr added that he could show you a move or few while he trained or when he brought you along for an info hunt. All they could do now was to wait for you to wake up and get ready for a bring-your-novice-to-work day with the two men.

ー

Personal pointers: A particular bureau for Assassins that Altaïr frequently visits in certain fanart is in Jerusalem, since Malik is the Rafiq there. Like majority of the buildings in that city, the hideout is in the color of sand and maybe a few specific spices.

[noficbyhalves]

Whumpril, she says (snippet from prompt #3, for yall who participated in the poll. Guess what also has ballooned in length 🙃)

"He took to sitting in the common room in the wee hours of the night, because if he spent one more hour trapped behind the curtains of his too-empty bed, Malik was going to scream. At least downstairs he had space to himself (he did not want space to himself) to spread out his books. It was a grueling task forcing his tired brain to focus on Botany at two-in-the-fucking-morning, but sleep was too out of reach and his backlog of schoolwork too long to justify wasting waking hours, however tenuous they were.

(He used to have an outlet for these sorts of nights, when he and Altair would sneak through the hallways and climb up to the roof for an unfettered view of the sky. Malik had barely wanted to look up for months, even avoided it where he could in the Astrological Alignments class he was only taking because Altair had been so excited about it and Malik was too stubborn to quit. Several nights ago he had followed that gut instinct all the way up to the observatory, but found himself grounded by the ruins of his left arm. The climb might have been manageable with another set of hands, but Malik had ruined that too.)"

[demigoddessqueens]

Imagine being in the hospital sick or some reason and they cannot for the life of them keep your partner out of your room. They don't know how they keep getting in. But security finally coaxes them out but they turn around for 20 minutes and your partner is wrapped around you in the bed.

I think Haytham, Shay, Jacob, and Ezio would be the worst about it. Malik and Evie would just deliver the verbal smackdown of a century till they were let in. I don't know a single intelligent member of hospital staff who would try and stop Altaïr or Ratonhnhaké:ton

Sorry for the long ask, I just got out of urgent care myself cause the muscles in my left leg ceased functioning while my heart and pulse said "hey, you know what would be fun? If we decided to start doing our own thing" (I'm fine it's not a stroke or heart attack)

Omg 😱 I hope you’re doing ok! That sounds pretty serious and I hope you’re recovering

Ohmygooawdd 😆 this would be an experience for the poor medical staff

Connor is just so big and muscular and tall so no one gets in his way. Altair just has The Stare™️, striking gold eyes to match, and the nurses just move out of his way.

Haytham is not loud per se but he makes his sternly-worded opinions and voice known. Shay, Jacob and Ezio are loud AF and want to see you ASAP

Malik and Evie both have words for the staff about getting to see you, but also have gentle chastising for you too

[enigmatist17]

Fictober #2 - Don't worry, I got you

--------------

"Don't worry, I have you."

"Did I need you to?" There's a scoff, but with feigned reluctance there's a shuffle before Malik Al-Sayf sits back into his seat, the familiar weight pressing against his back making the assassin hum as he watched calloused hands take up work without skipping a beat.

"Better?" Malik rolled his eyes with a slight huff, making the other chuckled as he fills in another column with information. "I thought as such."

"In your delusions novice." Altaïr can't help the soft snort of amusement that escapes him, leaning down to gently press his lips against Malik's temple.

"You get grumpy when you're slouched over for too long, and the sun hadn't even risen when I left you." There's another grumble, but Malik truly hadn't even realized it had been so long, so he sets about huffing again. "See?"

"I refuse to give you the satisfaction."

"I expect little less."

Despite the fact he was sore from a long day of stalking a victim to bring to justice, Altaïr calmly finishes Malik's work as the city bustles just outside the bureau without a care in the world. He is about say something when he catches the sound of Malik's subtle snoring, and the assassin smiles to himself.

"I'll always have you hm?" Malik is taken into Altaïr's arms with ease, and the assassin figures today would be as good as any to take a rest as he retreats to the sleeping area. It's fleeting their moments together, and the assassin was greedy with every precious second that he could hold in his hands.

So they rest together, Malik waking when Altaïr falls asleep, carding his singular hand through soft hair as he keeps watch.

[noyatv]

𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍'𝐒 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐈𝐁𝐍-𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐐 |n/a

𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐑 𝐈𝐁𝐍-𝐋𝐀'𝐀𝐇𝐀𝐃 |n/a

𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐊 𝐀𝐋-𝐒𝐀𝐘𝐅 |n/a

𝐅𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐎 𝐀𝐔𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐄 |n/a

𝐄𝐙𝐈𝐎 𝐀𝐔𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐄 |n/a

𝐘𝐔𝐒𝐔𝐅 𝐓𝐀𝐙𝐈𝐌 |n/a

𝐇𝐀𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐌 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐖𝐀𝐘 |n/a

𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐘 𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐂 |n/a

𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐇𝐇𝐀𝐊𝐄:𝐓𝐎𝐍 | 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐑 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐖𝐀𝐘 |n/a

𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐎 𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐍 |n/a

[tamiisnthere]

HEY MALIK! 😄

I've redone another old artwork of mine from 2022. I even ripped another Malik's model and modified it (like for example I added hair and now he looks so much better!). 😊

Unfortunately I can't manage to write my fanfics, but I've decided to start writing again in September since the heat is killing me (curse you global warming 🤬).

(↓ Credits under Keep reading)

Programs: XNALara & Fire Alpaca

Altaïr & Malik © Ubisoft 

The Sims © Electronic Arts Games

Tami © Me (TamiIsntHere) Note: I don’t own the most Custom Content. These belong to their creators.

Altaïr’s Robes Model © LorisC93 (DeviantArt)

“Altaïr’s” Head Model © ItalianUtent (DeviantArt) Note: This is AC3 Desmond’s model, which I edited textures on it.

Thorton’s Hair © deexie (DeviantArt)