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teecupangel · 2 years ago

Note

I would LOVE to see a crossover between demon slayer & assassin’s creed , like it was something that I’m dying to see ever since I got back into the AC franchise in October.

Also I think you should know about Edward, Shay, and Evie JPN VA’s , BC HOLY SHIT

Kenjiro Tsuda is Edward and NOBODY talks about it and the man is a LEGEND along with the other legends! I relate Edward and Kishibe from CSM bc they both love booze and women. Evie voices Annie from AOT and Shay does Caesar from JJBA battle tendency

(This is kinda an offshoot of this 'what if AC and Demon Slayer characters with the same jp voices meet' idea)

Alright, before we go gushing over the jp voices of the other main characters, let’s first talk about an Assassin’s Creed x Demon Slayer Crossover.

This… will have spoilers for Demon Slayer so Imma put it in a Read More. This will take the backstory of both Demon Slayer and coat it in Assassin’s Creed Isu Bullshit to make this more on the side of ‘two series getting blended together with Isu ice’ crossover than a ‘these characters appear in this series’ crossover.

Game?

Okay, let’s do this.

(sidenote, my fingers are so used to typing Desmond that whenever I want to write Demon, it usually goes “Desmon” so if I missed any Desmon misspelling, let me know XD)

So, Muzan’s experimental treatment happened during the Heian period (794 to 1185) and we won’t get into that much detail about this time but the year is important because this is smack dab (1090) in the middle of the year the Assassin Brotherhood was created (or had transitioned from the Hidden Ones).

So, in this crossover, the experimental treatment that was supposed to save Muzan was created using a failed Isu experiment that an off-branch of the Order of the Ancients have found and were doing human experiments to check if it was possible to use it to prolong their lives like the legends of the misthios who was still hunting them down.

Now, we are using the Order of the Ancients in this one for one simple reason: the Templar Order is still building its presence from the ashes of the Order of the Ancients’ main branch in England and is currently under the ideology of King Aelfred. They’re too busy preparing for their ‘grand entrance’ to do human experiments at the moment (and many members would consider such thing beneath them or against their personal interpretation of the Order of which the Templar Order was meant to usher in).

So, Muzan is gets turned into a demon by this experiment and the Order of the Ancients became his first victims and he tortured + experimented on them to learn the truth. By the time Kassandra gets there, it was already too late. Muzan has created his first few demons to create that specific demon that might ‘cure’ him. Kassandra’s high Isu genes meant that she could do feats that normal humans cannot do and these skills gave her an edge in fighting the demons together with the hidden blade she now possessed.

She managed to take down the demons Muzan created (which was a good thing because they were about to tell Muzan about the Isus) and she fought Muzan as well. Unfortunately, she was unable to defeat him and Muzan tries to turn her into a demon as well… to enslave her to him.

The Isu ‘tech’ that was used to make Muzan into a demon reacted to Kassandra differently though and instead she seemingly died after having a severe seizure.

Muzan left disappointed but an hour later, Kassandra gasps as she opened her eyes.

She doesn’t know what happened and if the Staff had been the one to save her or not but she retreats for now, knowing it would be futile to take Muzan alone.

She needed allies…

From Heian Period to The Third Crusades/Kamakura period:

Kassandra makes contact with the Ubuyashiki family and helps in the creation of the Demon Slayer Corps (more as a secret co-conspirator because she knows Muzan would hunt her and the Ubuyashiki family if he learns she lived)

She tried to contact the Hidden Ones as well but learned that the Hidden Ones are no more, having been absorbed by the Assassin Brotherhood who are currently ‘unavailable’ so Kassandra is on her own at the moment.

Kassandra would leave Japan to finally contact the Assassin Brotherhood once she was sure that the Demon Slayer Corps could handle their own. She meets with their current mentor, Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad, to talk about the demon problem in Japan.

Altaïr joins her in Japan to check the situation himself, leaving the Brotherhood to Malik Al-Sayf, and they learn that the Apple cannot control them at all yet they could be misled by the Apple’s illusions. It’s thru Altaïr’s studies with the Apple that they learn why Kassandra survived Muzan trying to turn her into a demon. Those with high concentrated Isu genes have varying immunity to being turned into demons and there is a defense mechanism in play in certain individuals to keep them from turning into demons. Altaïr says that this mechanism is only in certain people and, if they drink blood from either Muzan or Kassandra (who has been ‘infected’ in a sense), they would gain a similar immortality that Kassandra possessed.

Things happened, the demons attack, Altaïr is wounded saving the current Oyakata-sama and Kassandra berates him for being reckless. Altaïr tells her that his wounds are too severe so Kassandra agrees to let him drink her blood. Altaïr doesn’t turn into a demon but is revived as effectively an immortal like Kassandra (although the infection made the Staff’s immortality setup moot, making both Kassandra and Altaïr not age but be able to die if their body takes too much damage). Altaïr returns to Masyaf to make preparation to branch out the Brotherhood before it became clear he was no longer aging.

Once everything is done, Altaïr relinquishes his title to Malik and tells everyone that he will create a Brotherhood in Japan. The Japanese Brotherhood would look after Templar activities (which seemed to be in the bud at the moment) while helping the Demon Slayer Corp in their endeavours to kill demons and find and take out Muzan once and for all.

Unfortunately, Kassandra and Altaïr’s appearances made Muzan realize that, if he wants to survive and reach his goal, keeping his plans in Japan is not the way to go.

They hear rumors that Muzan left Japan and now Kassandra and Altaïr go their separate ways to try and find Muzan.

Sidebar: Altaïr definitely went to the Island of Tsushima to fight off the Mongols and he reunites with his oldest son Darim there who told him that Sef is now the mentor. Altaïr gives Darim his Armor of Altaïr (that’s not the original name, Altaïr named it the Sunlight Armor but… uuhhh… the name got changed later on due to… time) and the eagle sword forged in Scarlet Crimson Iron Sand and Scarlet Ore. He has his own nichirin sword and he warns Darim that if they were ever faced with an enemy that seemed unworldly, use his sword or their hidden blades.

The original hidden blades used by the Hidden Ones (most of which were used by the Assassins in Alamut and Masyaf) were forged from Scarlet Crimson Iron Sand and Scarlet Ore as well. It’s unclear where the Hidden Ones got the ores and sands but Kassandra has an inkling it’s connected to a mysterious merchant ally of the Hidden Ones that she only heard the name of “Thousand Eyes”. Altaïr had requested that more hidden blades be created for the Brotherhood in Japan and that they ship a few of them to the other branches to give them a chance in case a demon gets there.

Renaissance Italy/Muromachi(Sengoku) Period:

Altaïr gets to Italy because he learns of an Apple being transported into Venice. By the time he gets there, the Apple is in the hands of Ezio Auditore who had retaken it from the Templars after an epic punch out in the Vatican. He managed to get to the Italian Brotherhood’s main headquarters, Monteriggioni, just in time to warn them about the army he saw on his way to them.

A lot of people do a doubletake because, yeah, he looks a lot like the statue of Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad but he just waves it off as him being a descendant because there’s no way he was going to say ‘yeah, I’m the real deal and I’m sorta immortal at the moment because there is a much larger problem than Templars right now.’

He helps them protect the town but they knew that they had to leave. The Papal Army will return with more soldiers and they wouldn’t bat an eye razing the entire town into the ground just to ‘clean’ the taste of defeat from their mouth.

They all go to Rome with many of the civilians joining them and Altaïr gets sucked into the whole ‘let’s get all of Rome against the Borgias!’ plan.

He and Ezio become friends and he also becomes a close advisor to Ezio’s early years as a mentor, just to help him get to his feet and figure out by himself what kind of mentor he wants to be.

Ezio also lets Altaïr study the Apple and the two Apples resonant with one another, showing Altaïr and Ezio a blurry vision of someone. Ezio believes that person is the one the goddess call Desmond. Altaïr doesn’t understand why but he also believes that Ezio is right. That person is Desmond…

Cesare still poisons his father and runs away, Ezio and Altaïr chase after him but Altaïr is distracted by the appearance of three demons who tried to kill him while Ezio continued to chase after Cesare. Feeling dread in the pits of his stomach, Altaïr takes care of the three demons and tried to find Ezio and Cesare.

He’s just in time to see Cesare pierce Ezio’s stomach and it was clear that Cesare had become a demon, Ezio didn’t let that deter him, using the sword Altaïr had given to Darim all those years before to behead Cesare. As his head and body fell to the cliff below as it disintegrated, Ezio falls to his knees.

Altaïr gives him his blood before he dies because he knows, something inside him knows, that Ezio is one of the people with the defense mechanism. Ezio is revived and he returns to Italy with Altaïr.

After he was sure the Brotherhood would be okay even if he was no longer the mentor, Ezio joined Altaïr in traveling to Masyaf because Ezio had a vision when he was turned of a castle that, when he described it to Altaïr, sounded a lot like Masyaf. Although Altaïr has no idea what this supposed door underneath Masyaf was meant to be. There was no door there before.

The Ezio-Sofia thing happens in the background and it takes them longer to find the memory seals (which now contain memories of Sef). The last memory seal they find is actually in Sef’s resting place in Alexandria and Sef directly talks to Altaïr, “Father, I know you’re out there somewhere. I made all of these because of a dream I had. I cannot truly explain it but… there is something in Masyaf that must be kept a secret until you return. Once you see it… you will understand what must be done to keep the world safe from the darkness crueler than the Templars will ever be.”

When they finally entered the underground ‘garden’ (as legends go, it was a garden that Sef had tended every day), it’s dark but they could see something blue glowing at the center. Once they were close enough, they realize it was a flower bed of blue spider lilies.

And, in the center of the flower bed, a man was sleeping. No. He wasn’t moving at all.

Was he dead?

They cautiously stepped closer and the moment Ezio and Altaïr were by the edge of the flower bed, the slightly glowing blue spider lilies glowed brightly before slowly losing all colors, turning into white spider lilies. It started from the edge then slowly moved inward until the last blue spider lilies to lose their color were the ones underneath the man.

A second pass…

And the man gasped as he sat up.

He turned to look at the two men staring at him and blinked as he called out, “Altaïr? Ezio?”

They don’t know how or why but both of them answered, “Desmond…”

Dun dun dun!

Yup. Ending it there at the moment because this was getting looonngg. I’ll continue with the Kenway family drama another time (and, this time, we get Kassandra and Edward duking it out in naval combat).

I am thinking if we should make Haytham and Shay immortals OR, let’s add lots of Kenway family drama in this one (as well as Dorian-Cormac feud) by making them both demons instead (and they’ll be part of the Twelve Kizukis). I’m honestly leaning toward the latter XD.

Sorry if this was light on the Demon Slayer characters but the main characters of Demon Slayer won’t be born until the Taisho Era (1910ish) but, at that point, you bet the story would be much more different since there’s gonna be butterfly effects.

Other than that, yes, we are making Desmond the living embodiment of the blue spider lilies that Muzan was looking for because I show my love to Desmond by making his life complicated XD

========================

Now, let’s gush over the JP voices of the other AC main characters.

Before anything else…

Desmond Miles is voiced by Hiroki Tōchi

Who voices as a lot of older men types (Malik from Tales, General Cross from D.Gray-man, Ovan from .hack, Mael from Seven Deadly Sins and Klaus from Valkyria Chronicles) which I find funny. He’s also the jp voice of Gavin Reed (Detroit Become Human), Chris Redfield (RE) and Nathan Drake (Uncharted).

Funny thing? He voiced Toki from Fist in the North Star in the 2010 anime adaptation BUT Tomokazu Seki (EZIO) took over for the 2010 and 2013 video games.

AND to make things even funnier, Haytham is voiced by Kenyu Horiuchi who voiced Toki in the 2023 Fitness Boxing game and the Legend of Raoh anime. XD

(honestly, there’s a lot of Fist of the North Star voice actors in Assassin’s Creed with Altaïr’s voice actor being one of the go-to voices of Kenshiro XD)

Edward Kenway is voiced by Kenjiro Tsuda (yeeesss, he’s definitely a Legend! He’s freaking Seto Kaiba!)

He also voiced Gris/Gregory from Fire Emblem, Luis Sera from the RE4 remake, Zeke from Xenoblade Chronicles 2, Zaveid from Tales, CHIKAGE from Hakuoki, FIRE EMBLEM from Tiger & Bunny, TATSU from The Way of the Househusband, NANAMI from Jujutsu Kaisen, Overhaul from MHA/BNHA, and have I already said that he voiced Seto Kaiba from YuGiOh? Yeah? Well, he voiced Seto Kaiba from YuGiOh. I think the best part is that he voiced Hannes from AOT. Hhhmmmm… parental figure to a main character that has dirty blond hair and is using alcohol to cope with the bad shit in his life only to die in front of said main character? Lollollol (also, also, Kishibe, Hannes, and Edward would definitely try to drink each other under the table)

Evie Frye is voiced by Yu Shimamura

As @ullyaboo has already said, voiced Annie in AOT, she’s also the voice of Zelda in TOTK, Mature in 2018 King of Fighters game (who was usually voiced by Hiroko Tsuji), Cindy from FFXV, Shinobu from JoJo, and Ilina from Chaika.

Once more, Rogue’s voice actors are not in Behind the Voice Actors so I had to doublecheck with the jp wiki. XD

Shay Cormac’s voice actor is Takuya Satou

Who voices CAEEESSAAARRRR in JoJo (sidenote: Old man Joseph is voiced by Unshō Ishizuka who voices William Miles XD), Machias from Trails, Albert James Moriarty from Moriarty, Conrad and Abel from Fire Emblem, and Alphen in Tales.

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haytham-loves-chocolate · 1 year ago

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“I wish people would notice you more.”

A/N: This is a John Pitcairn birthday special. This involves my OC, Enola, but it is not in the style of Assassin’s Creed Forsaken this time.

Includes: Angst/Comfort scenario.

Warning: Suicide mention

Summary: Enola tried to commit suicide in the middle of the night, but Pitcairn was there in time.

“Enola-“

“Pitcairn, stop it! Just stop it, please! I can’t deal with this anymore! I can’t! I-“

“Enola, if you will allow me to explain-“

“Why should you care?” She retorts, followed by a fit of rage, “Why should you care about me?!” Pitcairn stays attentive as though it does not faze him at all. She presses her fingertips on her left hand close to her chest, eyes slit and voice raised in a way that could annoy anyone else in his place.

“I’m a nobody. I’m a loser, a depressed, selfish bitch that thinks everyone around her hates her! When no one talks to me, I think I’m too annoying. Or when someone has nothing to say to me, I think I’m in the way of their time, their life.”

Her voice lowers to a quiet snivel, a weak smile appears from her lips.

“I think of you, John. I wish I was like you.” Enola takes in a huge, deep breath, waits for a few seconds, then lets it out to be masked with a sob. “I wish I could do something more than this! I wish I wasn’t afraid! I-I do things and I regret them immediately afterwords because it’s all I know.” She immediately raises her left hand to wipe the tears flowing down her cheeks , sniffling. “Regrets are my fear, John.”

Enola points to the small, ivory dagger on the top of her drawer. Pitcairn glances over at the weapon for a split second, taking in the beauty and the polished silver of the blade. He turns his head back to her direction, letting her continue her ranting.

“I tried cutting myself because I know if I’m not here you will all be happy. No more of me. But seeing you stop me, seeing you standing there… looking at my selfish side.”

She frowns now, her mind seething with thoughts as she continues,

“You think I’m doing this for attention aren’t you? You think I’m a mistake, don’t you? That I should travel back home, stay home, never come back. Oh god, what have I done? What have I done, I’m so sorry! Im sorry!”

Enola wails on, placing her hands on her face to hide her face from him.

Pitcairn can see she is going through another mental episode, something that has been troubling her for some time now periodically.

So, he stands in front of her, his hands go out to touch her arms but she backs away in fear.

“Don’t touch me, Don’t touch me! I can’t live like this anymore! I can’t keep trying to get his attention, but I love him too much, but then I just wanted to jump off a fucking building and-“

“Enola, stop this nonsense and listen!”

Pitcairn’s hands lightly shake her arms after he pins her to the wall. He bores his eyes deep into hers, his eyebrows furrowing to make it seem like he is frustrated at her, which is not the case here. Her hysterical crying stops at his words. Her glossy eyes observed him, not knowing what is going on inside his head. She lets out a sniffle and her bottom lip quivers too.

“M’eudail, dear.” Pitcairn cooed out, his hand brushing her hair as if he was comforting a newborn child.

“You are someone. You are strong, you’re not a coward at all. You-“ He licks his lips in a nervous kind of way, and his grip on her arms loosens.

“Haytham, okay?” He continues, his voice gentle and caring. “You don’t need Haytham. You definitely do not need him. He will never be with you.” Enola starts to cry again but he hushes her, wiping the tears rolling down her eyes and cheeks.

“Let me tell you why, Enola.” His hands wrap around her hands, intertwining his fingers with hers.

“Because you are worth a whole lot more than the attention of one nobleman. Your worth is priceless. A king’s charter can’t claim you. Please take heed of my words. I am only a man, I am only a soldier fighting for his country. But I will fight for what I believe in. I believe in you. If you want someone to listen to you, all you have to do is ask. If you want to write to me, do it. I’ll reply as soon as I am able to. To lose you Enola is to lose the war and I will not lose you. You hear this right? Nod yes.”

Enola nods her head quickly and sniffles again. His lips make a smile at her head nod, his hands still on hers in a supportive way.

“You are enough, you are great. Please let me show you why you are.”

“What do you mean show me?” Enola’s voice and her eyes are soft and curious.

Suddenly, he pins her down to her bed, having her yelp out and blink her eyes quickly in a surprised reaction.

“J-John, what are you-“

She gets interrupted by his lips, gently pressing them to her nose. Her eyebrows raise slightly as keeps silent as he continues his tour of kisses on her face. Not one part of her face goes bare with his caresses. They maybe slow, but it’s something that makes Enola giggle at to make her happier.

The last part of her face he kisses are her eyelids, his hands cupping her cheeks and his thumbs placed close to her nose. With a sweet smile, she glances his way to see a sweet smile also on his face.

“Tha gaol agam ort. Tha thu a’ ciomhead Bòidheach.”

Her face gazed in confusion at his words, and a small chuckle escapes from his lips.

“I love you. You look so beautiful.”

“How do I say I love you too?”

“Tha gaol agam ort cuideachd.”

“Tha goal agam ort cuideachd.”

A smug look appears on his face after she repeated what he said to her.

“I guess the lessons have paid off, don’t you think?”

Enola lets out another giggle and she wraps her arms around his neck, kissing his cheek as she does so.

“Mum only let me learn Irish.”

“I guess being British has some of its perks.”

Pitcairn lets out a soft chuckle at this joke, his arms already wrapped around her body.

“Yet, I wouldn’t have met everyone if it wasn’t for… for the past.”

“Don’t worry about the past. The past is over now. All that matters is what you do in the future.”

He moves his body away from the hug but he is still in reach just incase she needs another one. He tucks a lock of hair behind her ear and he slowly grazes his fingertips over her jawline.

“You’re a good woman, Enola. You only need a helping hand.”

“You have been too kind to me. Caring and understanding. I wish people noticed you more.”

Enola admired him, still admires him. Maybe even more now. He always was a man of his heart, caring about others in a way that made him well respected in a large group setting. But this one-on-one talk with him seems to have gotten through to her. More than ever.

#assassin's creed #assassin's creed 3 #templar #john pitcairn #assassin’s creed iii #enola rossingol #john pitcairn x reader #john pitcairn x OC reader #angst #comfort

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helpyourselfwithcherrywine · 1 year ago

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Modern AU! Haytham Kenway and Maid! Reader characters cast.

Character Background

Set in Modern Day 2023! Boston, New York City, etc.

Also forgot to mention, reader is of Hispanic decent, but I kept it open for all readers so it may not be implied on the reader, but her OC's family will be. Some will be taken from the books (very little), theories and more characters may be added. Idk

• Haytham Kenway - December 4, 1989 (34): [In game, Haytham was 31 when Connor was born in AC 3, in this story he was 25]

• In game December 4th, 1725 - September 16, 1781 (55)

• Edward Kenway - March 10, 1964 (59) [In game, Edward was 32 when Haytham was born; He was 25 in this story in 1989]

• In game March 10, 1693 - December 3, 1735

• Ratonhake:ton/Connor - April 4, 2014 (9)

• In game April 4, 1756 - ????

• Shay Cormac - September 12, 1994 (29) [In game, he was 5 years younger than Haytham. the same was applied for this story] 1731

• September 12, 1731 - ???

• Ana Jimenez (OC) - July 10, 1967 (56): [ Hired by Edward in 1995]

*Ziio - November 14, 1992 (31) [1731 in game year, no date was actually given est. ][Was 22 when Connor was born in 2014] Still alive, her Haytham are no longer together.

•Grandma Josephina (OC) -April 24, 1941 -

[Dedicated to a person I knew in real life, she was the sweetest and a third grandma in a way,]

• Aunt Victoria (Vicki) (OC) - August 21, 1973-

[OC from another story, ]

#reader insert #haytham kenway #shay cormac #connor kenway #haytham kenway x reader #oc #knight in templar armor #ficdatabase #haytham x y/n #haytham kenway x y/n #haytham x reader #assassin's creed 3 #assassins creed rogue #ziio

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haytham-loves-chocolate · 1 year ago

Photo

A turtle and an eagle

One soared from above

One sailed from below

The Eagle soared too high

The turtle traveled too far

In the end, together,

Their worlds collided again

All over again they start

And this time,

Forever they will be.

↳ “I wondered how different things might have been.”

#assassin's creed 3 #haytham kenway #Kaniehti:io #ziio #Assassin's Creed #templar #ac3 #aciii #assassin's creed forsaken #ubisoft #haytham x ziio

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fanfenomenon · 2 months ago

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messy sketch of shaytham kissing 😘

#assassin's creed #haytham kenway #shay cormac #shay patrick cormac #shaytham #haytham kenway x shay cormac #old men yaoi #colonial templar geezers #traditional art #traditional sketch #fanart #ac fanart #assassins creed fanart

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bookworm-with-coffee · 21 days ago

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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

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s0larine · 4 months ago

Text

𝐀 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐄 [𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐘 𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐂 𝐗 𝐅! 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑]

summary ☩ The reader, an undercover Assassin, goes at a high-society masquerade ball to gather information about Templars and unexpectedly meet her former friend, Shay, now fully allied with the enemy. Neither can afford to reveal their true identities in such a public place, but they are drawn to each other through the anonymity of the masks.

[a/n] ☩ [y/f/n] means your fake name because baby we’re playing undercover tonight~ reminder that english is not my mother tongue. UNEDITED

word count ☩ 3,979

pairing ☩ shay cormac x f! reader

content warnings ☩ slight sexual tension, female reader, enemies to lovers, mentions of shay's deflection, fluff, assassin! reader, templar! shay, reader in a gown, shay being a man, shay having a long time crush on reader, mutual pining, ...

　　　New-York, June 1756

“Everything is in order. You can enter, Lady [y/f/n].”

The red coat handed you your invitation. As you entered the huge place, your eyes wandered around you, detailing every nook and cranny, taking in and memorising the layout of the area. The grand hall was indeed a spectacle of opulence. Crystal chandeliers sparkled above, casting a golden glow over the sea of masks that danced and mingled below. Laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the soft strains of violins filled the air, creating a scene that was far removed from the dangerous world you were familiar with.

Your mission tonight was simple: gather information, and your mentor was clear about your purpose here; not to engage at any costs. The Templars were holding this extravagant masquerade in the hopes of attracting allies from high society, and you had been sent by the Assassin Brotherhood with—of course, a fake name—to blend in, to listen, to learn. The gown you wore tonight was unlike anything you were used to—luxurious, intricate, and adorned with a mask that glittered in the candlelight. Your hair was gathered in a half bun and some golden hair clips adorned them. In order to pass for a member of high society, you even took the time to put on a jewellery set; a necklace, dangling earrings and a few bracelets and rings. But beneath the facade of wealth and elegance, your blade was hidden, strapped to your left thigh under your luxurious gown, ever ready. If I'd been born as a man, hiding it and having simple access to it would have been easier, but there's nothing more I can do in this puffy dress… you thought.

As you walked amongst the other attendees, getting as close as possible to people whose clothes meant something to you, such as high-ranked Templars, you noticed a very particular group of men at the other side of the hall. Among them were Colonel George Monro and Sir William Johnson, both members of the Colonial Rite of the Templar Order. Your eyes fell on their silhouettes with their recognisable clothes from beneath your own mask but quickly continued their search. And who else…

What you hadn't expected was to find him here.

Shay Cormac stood with the group of men, dressed sharply in a black tailcoat with accents of silver and red. His mask, a sleek black piece that covered half his face, did little to hide the sharpness of his features or the air of authority he carried. His eyes, however, were unmistakable. The same stormy brown eyes that had haunted your thoughts since the day he defected from the Brotherhood.

You hadn't seen him in years, but the memories were fresh, the betrayal still raw.

But there was one detail that made your blood run cold: the young man's eyes were already riveted on you. When has he ever noticed you before? Your heartbeat quickened and you finally looked away, turning to a passing servant. You picked up a glass of champagne as he passed by you and began to sip the golden liquid, your eyes frantically searching for a place to rest in order to pass for an innocent. Maybe it was just a coincidence... No, no, he's far too clever to think that I'm just a random young woman...

You risked looking back up at the group of men he was with, but he had already disappeared. Your breathing quickened and you turned away from his previous location towards a random group of people, just to pass for a guest sympathising with others. Your heart raced as you opened your senses; you knew he was coming for you and you couldn’t do anything but pray he hadn’t recognised you yet. This was supposed to be just another mission, a simple infiltration, but now everything felt different. Could you approach him without giving yourself away?

A voice behind you jolted you from your thoughts, soon followed by a delicate

"Would you care to dance?"

You freezed. A delicate palm soon rested on the small of your back and another one entered your field of vision from the right, at the level of your own right hand. Closing your eyes, you inhaled sharply before turning; you found Shay standing before you, his right hand still extended and a dangerous smile playing on his lips. Your heart skipped a beat once again at your inattentiveness. You needed to be more careful around him… The recognition in his eyes sent a chill down your spine. He definitely knew. He had seen through your disguise, just as you had seen through his.

But you couldn't afford to let him know the depth of your awareness, not here, not now.

"Of course," you replied, your voice steady despite the tension that coiled in your chest, giving away your champagne glass to a passing servant. You placed your right hand in his left, feeling the warmth of his grip, and he led you onto the dance floor.

The music swelled around you as Shay pulled you close, one hand resting firmly on your waist, the other holding your gloved hand in his. His touch was confident, and his movements were smooth as he guided you effortlessly through the steps of the waltz. The crowd around you faded into the background, your focus narrowing to the man before you.

"You've been watching me, [y/n]," Shay said softly, his lips barely moving as he leaned in. His tone was teasing, but there was an edge to it, a hidden challenge.

You met his gaze, your mask hiding the flash of defiance in your eyes. "I could say the same about you, Shay."

He chuckled, the sound low and dangerous. "It's been a long time, hasn't it?"

"Not long enough," you whispered with clenched teeth, your voice sharp despite the graceful steps of the dance.

Shay's grip on your waist tightened slightly, which made you tense, a silent acknowledgment of the tension between you. "You always did have a way with words. Tell me, are you here for pleasure, or are you working tonight?" You did not fail to notice his gaze sliding down your neck to the start of your cleavage, checking you out shamelessly.

Your cheeks flushed, feeling like a lamb trapped in the fangs of a wolf. You felt the heat of his breath as he spoke, the proximity making it difficult to keep your composure. Every instinct told you to draw your blade, to end this now, but the crowd was thick, and the consequences of a public confrontation were too great.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" you replied, your lips curving into a smile that didn't reach your eyes.

He twirled you effortlessly, the skirts of your gown swirling around you as you spun, and when you came back to him, his hand was lower, lingering just above the hidden blade at your thigh. He didn't touch it, but the threat was clear. He knew exactly where it was. Your blood ran cold at the thought that he had found your dagger.

"Careful," he murmured, tilting his head, his voice a soft warning. "This is a delicate dance we're doing. One misstep and it could get… messy."

From being riveted on his chest, your eyes looked back up into his own, the familiar storm clouds swirling with something darker, something more dangerous. "You think I'm afraid of a little mess?"

Shay's lips quivered into a smirk, and for a moment, you saw a glimmer of the man you once knew, the Assassin and friend who had fought beside you. But that man was gone, replaced by the Templar before you.

"You should be," he whispered, pulling you closer as the music slowed.

The world around you seemed to fall away, the crowd, the mission, the masks—all of it dissolved as the tension between you reached a boiling point. The weight of your shared history hung in the air, unspoken but palpable. You had fought side by side once, and had trusted him with your life. And then he had betrayed everything.

But here, in this moment, with his hand on your waist and your bodies moving in sync, the lines between enemy and ally blurred. You hated him, you were sure of that, but the way your heart pounded in your chest told a different story. There was something more, something you had never fully understood.

"Tell me, Shay," you said, your voice barely more than a breath as the music began to wind down. "Why did you do it? Why did you turn your back on us?"

Shay's expression darkened, the playful smirk fading as his eyes grew hard. "You wouldn't understand, [y/n]."

"Try me," you insisted, your grip on his hand tightening.

For a moment, he hesitated, his gaze searching yours. And then, just as the final note of the waltz echoed through the ballroom, he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear.

"Because sometimes, the Brotherhood is wrong."

With those words, the music ended, and Shay released you, stepping back with a final, piercing look. He bowed slightly, a mockery of the formal dance, and then turned, disappearing into the crowd.

You stood there in the middle of the dance floor, watching him go back to his Templar associates. You were unable to move, your heart racing, and your mind spinning. His words echoed in your ears, and for the first time, you weren't sure where your loyalties truly lay.

As the night wore on, you realised that this masquerade was more than just a mission—it was the beginning of a far more dangerous game. One that you and Shay Cormac were destined to play, whether you liked it or not.

The evening continued around you, but it felt as though you were standing still. The swirling skirts, the clinking of glasses, the murmurs of conversation—they all faded into background noise as your mind raced with Shay’s parting words.

“Because sometimes, the Brotherhood is wrong.”

Your hand unconsciously grazed the hidden blade at your thigh, the familiar weight suddenly feeling heavy. Shay had betrayed everything you once stood for. He had walked away, abandoned the Creed, and joined the very enemies you had sworn to fight. And yet… there was a flicker of doubt creeping into your thoughts, a doubt you hadn’t allowed yourself to feel in years.

The Brotherhood had given you purpose, structure, a cause greater than yourself. But now, for the first time, you wondered if Shay’s defection wasn’t just a selfish act of betrayal. His eyes when he spoke had held something you hadn’t expected: conviction.

You shook your head, banishing the thought. No. I won’t question the Brotherhood. Not now, not because of him.

But that resolve felt brittle.

You caught a glimpse of Shay again through the crowd. He had made his way toward the far end of the ballroom, mingling with Templar officials, exchanging pleasantries. But his eyes kept darting back to you, just as yours did to him.

What was his game?

Your mission was still clear. Gather information. You weren’t here for personal matters. You couldn’t afford to let Shay’s presence distract you. But despite your attempts to stay focused, your thoughts kept wandering back to that dance, to his touch, to the way his breath had brushed against your ear when he whispered those final words.

Suddenly, a hand landed lightly on your shoulder, jolting you from your reverie.

“Care to join me for a drink, my lady?” The voice belonged to a man in a silver mask, a high-ranking Templar based on the insignia on his sleeve. His eyes were sharp, watching you with interest. It was clear he had noticed your distraction.

Forcing a smile, you nodded, reminding yourself of your mission. “Of course.”

As you followed him to a quieter corner of the room where the drinks were principally gathered, you could feel Shay’s gaze burning into your back, but you didn’t look back. You couldn’t. The Templar was speaking now, sharing something about the recent victories they’d secured in the colonies, but you weren’t really listening despite the purpose of your mission tonight. Your mind was still with Shay, turning over everything he had said—and everything he hadn’t in a way. After a few minutes of absent-mindedly drinking champagne and listening to the man recount his false prowess, you finally excused yourself from the conversation, your head buzzing with alcohol and of course the weight of your conflicting emotions. You were a little hot and needed air, away from all those rich folks.

You headed for the balcony overlooking the formal gardens of the period building. Stepping out onto the balcony, you took a deep breath of the cool night air, leaning against the marble railing.

It wasn’t long before you heard the sound of footsteps behind you. Opening your senses once again, you closed your eyes and you instantly knew who it was.

“You always did like your quiet moments,” came a familiar voice.

You didn’t turn around immediately, your hands tightening on the railing as Shay approached. You could feel his eyes boring into your back, or even your bum, and the tension rolling off him.

“I didn’t expect to see you again so soon,” you said, still facing the darkened city beyond. “You’ve made your point. Or was there something else you wanted to say?”

Shay didn’t reply immediately. Instead, he stepped beside you, his presence warm and solid in the cool night air. You could feel him watching you, studying you, but you refused to meet his gaze.

“Tell me,” he said finally, his voice low and measured, “do you truly believe in everything the Brotherhood teaches? Or do you just follow because that’s all you’ve ever known?”

The question hit harder than you expected. You had spent years training under the Creed, living by its rules, carrying out its missions without question. But standing here now, with Shay beside you, that certainty felt… shaky. He wasn’t just talking about betrayal; he was challenging everything you had built your life around.

“Why are you asking me this?” you shot back, turning towards him and leaning against the fence that was now behind you. The action made the dark-haired man's eyes slide towards your protruding chest, and they stopped there for a few seconds before returning to rest in your eyes. You frowned slightly, licking your lower lip, you decided to ignore his gaze and continued the conversation as if nothing had happened. “You’re the one who abandoned us. Who betrayed your brothers and sisters. You walked away, Shay. And now you want to question my loyalty?”

His jaw tightened, but his eyes never wavered. “I didn’t betray the Brotherhood. I saw the truth. The Assassins… they’re not as righteous as you think. They preach freedom, but they’re willing to sacrifice anyone who gets in their way.”

You inhaled sharply, your chest suddenly pressed against the corset of your dress. You opened your mouth to argue, but the words died on your lips. There was a certain fire in his eyes, a depth to his conviction that shook you. He wasn’t lying. He wasn’t manipulating you. He believed what he was saying.

“I followed the Creed because I believed in it, just like you do, [y/n],” seeing that you didn’t speak, Shay continued, his voice steady. “But I couldn’t ignore what I saw—the innocents we put at risk, the people we hurt for the sake of an ideal. The Brotherhood is supposed to protect people, not destroy them.”

You felt a pang of anger, but also of confusion. Shay wasn’t wrong about some of the darker sides of the Assassins’ work. You had seen it yourself—the collateral damage, the grey areas where right and wrong blurred.

But you had always trusted the Creed to guide you, to show you the path forward.

“And what about the Templars?” you countered. “They’re no saints either, Shay. You think they’re any better?”

“I don’t think they’re perfect,” Shay admitted. “But they offer something the Assassins never could—order, stability. A chance to build a world where people don’t have to live in fear of chaos.”

You clicked your tongue and turned away again, staring out at the city while shaking your head, your heart pounding in your chest. You couldn’t believe what he was saying. Part of you wanted to reject everything he was saying, to cling to the teachings of the Brotherhood. But another part of you—a part that had been growing ever since Shay’s defection—couldn’t ignore the doubts.

“Why are you telling me all of this?” you asked quietly, your lips quivering with sadness.

Shay’s silence was heavy before he finally spoke. “Because you deserve to know the truth. And because I don’t want to lose you to the same blindness that I was caught in for so long.”

His words were raw, unguarded. For a moment, you weren’t an Assassin and he wasn’t a Templar. You were just two people standing on the edge of something far bigger than either of you.

Your heart ached with the weight of it all—your history with Shay, your loyalty to the Brotherhood, and the undeniable pull you felt toward him. The night had begun as a mission, but it had become something far more dangerous. The real question was: what would you do now?

Slowly, you turned to face him a second time since you stepped on the balcony, the air between you charged with everything unsaid.

“What happens now, Shay?” you breathed, the question hanging heavy in the air.

Shay’s eyes held yours, the storm of emotions mirrored in his gaze. He stepped closer, his voice low but resolute. “Now, we decide what side of history we’re on. Together.”

The weight of Shay’s words lingered in the cool night air, settling between the two of you like an invisible barrier. His eyes held yours, intense and searching yet soft, as if he was trying to read the turmoil inside you, to understand the emotions you weren’t sure you could admit to yourself.

“Together?” you echoed, your voice softer than you intended.

Shay stepped even closer, his tall frame casting a shadow in the moonlight, towering over your gentle but firm and well-trained one. The tension between you shifted, no longer just the push and pull of conflicting loyalties. There was something else—something that had always been there, beneath the surface, but never acknowledged.

The air around you seemed to thicken as he closed the distance. His gloved hand reached up slowly, hesitating for a moment, before gently lifting your mask. The gesture made you swallow your saliva in order to get rid of the lump that was starting to form in your throat. The intricate piece slid off, exposing your face to the night’s cool breeze. His gaze softened as he studied you, no longer the dangerous man who had left the Brotherhood, but someone familiar—someone who had once meant more to you than just a fellow Assassin.

“I never wanted to lose you,” Shay murmured, his voice lower now, more intimate as his eyes gazed at your opened lips. “Even after everything, I never stopped thinking about you.”

His confession sent a jolt through you, and you had to look away, your heart pounding in your chest. The years of anger and betrayal clashed with the warmth that was blooming inside you now, a warmth you hadn’t felt since before Shay had turned his back on everything you believed in.

“Shay, we’re on opposite sides now,” you whispered, though even as you said it, the words felt hollow.

He didn’t back away. Instead, his hand moved to your chin, gently guiding your face back to meet his eyes. “Does it matter? Here, right now, do sides really matter?”

Your breath caught in your throat. This was dangerous—not just because of who he was, but because of what you felt for him, what you had always felt. His hand moved from your chin to cup your cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle for someone so dangerous, so conflicted.

“I couldn’t let you go then, [y/n],” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “And I can’t now.”

The vulnerability in his words, in his gaze, disarmed you completely. All the questions, the doubt, the anger—it melted away in the warmth of his touch. For so long, you had convinced yourself that you hated him, that what he had done was unforgivable. But now, standing here, feeling the heat radiating from him, you realised the truth: you had never stopped caring for him.

Your breath hitched as he leaned in closer, his lips just inches from yours. You could feel the heat of him, the steady rise and fall of his chest. Your heart pounded in rhythm with his, the magnetic pull between you undeniable.

“I’ve never stopped thinking about you either,” you admitted, your voice barely more than a breath as your gentle eyes switched from one to another of his and sometimes stopped on his chapped lips for no more than half a second to switch back to his eyes.

That was all the invitation he needed.

Shay closed the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, as though he wanted to savour every second. His hand on your cheek slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss. The warmth of him, the way his lips moved against yours, sent a shiver down your spine. The world around you disappeared—the masquerade, the mission, the war between Assassins and Templars. None of it mattered. Not now.

Your hands found their way to his chest, feeling the solid strength beneath the fabric of his coat, and absent-mindedly stroked the Templar sigil on his torso. His other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him, his body warm and solid against yours. The kiss deepened, the slow burn of passion igniting into something more urgent, more desperate. Years of unspoken tension, of denied feelings, seemed to pour into that kiss, both of you trying to make up for the time you had lost.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathing hard, your foreheads resting together as you tried to catch your breath. His thumb gently stroked the side of your neck, a soft, intimate gesture that made your heart race even faster.

“I don’t care about the sides anymore,” Shay whispered against your lips, his breath warm. “I care about you.”

His words sent a wave of emotion crashing through you. You knew it wasn’t that simple—nothing ever was in your world—but for this moment, it felt like it could be. Like the war, the betrayal, everything else could fall away, leaving just the two of you.

“I don’t know if we can ever go back,” you whispered, your voice shaky with emotion. “After everything that’s happened…”

Shay’s hand tightened around your waist, pulling you even closer. “Maybe we don’t need to go back. Maybe we can start something new.”

You directed your gaze to meet his own eyes, seeing the same conflict mirrored in his eyes—the pull of duty against the pull of his heart. But there was something else too: hope. Hope that maybe, just maybe, you could find a way forward together.

“I don’t know what happens next,” you admitted, chuckling softly, your fingers tracing the edge of his collar.

Shay leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Neither do I. But we’ll figure it out. Together.”

You closed your eyes, letting yourself savour the moment, the feel of him against you, the warmth of his embrace. For now, that was enough.

And maybe, just maybe, it could be enough for whatever came next.

　　　PART 2 in writing...

dividers by @/thecutestgrotto

#shay cormac #shay cormac x reader #assassin's creed rogue #assassin's creed x reader #x reader #x female reader #shay patrick cormac #ac rogue #shay patrick cormac x reader #fluff #two shot #one-shot #part 1 #part 1/2

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aiza-luna · 6 months ago

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NO WAIT A MOMENT BC YOU ACTUALLY COOKED???

Call me Jacob Frye because I do whatever I want because I can

#shay patrick cormac #ethan frye #Corvus Headcanons #assassin's creed syndicate oc #AC OCs #Frye Family #JORDYN YOUR BRAIN-#ETHAN HAVING A TEMPLAR MOTHER #🤯🤯🤯#Were Ethan's parents like Arno and Elise (?)#Tenplar x Assassin romance going brrr #No but I'm eating this like soup #God J feeding the Fandom as always 😩🩵#Friend's HC

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medievalandfantasymelee · 7 months ago

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Our 296 Noble and Worthy Contenders

Adhemar, Count of Anjou [Rufus Sewell], A Knight's Tale (2001)

Prince Aemond Targaryen [Ewan Mitchell], House of the Dragon (2022-)

Aguilar de Nerha [Michael Fassbender], Assassin's Creed (2016)

Ahchoo [Dave Chapelle], Robin Hood: Men in Tights (1993)

Ahmad [Mahesh Jadu], Marco Polo (2014)

Ahmed Ibn Fahdlan [Antonio Banderas], The 13th Warrior (1999)

Alessandro Farnese [Diarmuid Noyes], Borgia (2011-2014)

King Alfred the Great [David Dawson], The Last Kingdom (2015-2022)

Shah Ala ad Daula [Olivier Martinez], The Physician (2013)

Allan-A-Dale [Joe Armstrong], BBC’s Robin Hood (2006-2009)

Sultan Alauddin [Ranver Singh], Padmavaat (2018)

Amarendra Baahubali [Prabhas], Baahubali Series (2015-2017)

Amleth [Alexander Skarsgård], The Northman (2022)

Ancelyn ap Gwalchmai [Marcus Gilbert], Doctor Who: “Battlefield” (1989)

Antonius Block [Max von Sydow], The Seventh Seal (1957)

Aragorn, Son of Arathorn [Viggo Mortensen], The Lord of the Rings Trilogy (2001-2003)

Arman [Matevy Lykov], I Am Dragon (2015)

Arn Magnusson [Joakim Nätterqvist], Arn: The Knight Templar (2007)

Arondir [Ismael Cruz Córdova], The Rings of Power (2022-)

Arthur Pendragon [Oliver Tobias], Arthur of the Britons (1972, 1973)

King Arthur [Richard Harris], Camelot (1967)

King Arthur [Graham Chapman], Monty Python and the Holy Grail (1975)

King Arthur [Nigel Terry], Excalibur (1981)

King Arthur [Sean Connery], First Knight (1995)

King Arthur [Alexandre Astier], Kaamelott (2004-2009)

King Arthur [Bradley James], BBC’s Merlin (2008-2012)

King Arthur [Charlie Hunnam], King Arthur: Legend of the Sword (2017)

Asbjörn [Tom Hopper], Northmen: A Viking Saga (2014)

Ash Williams [Bruce Campbell], Army of Darkness (1992)

Asneez [Isaac Hayes], Robin Hood: Men in Tights (1993)

Athelstan [George Blagden], Vikings (2013-2020)

Azeem [Morgan Freeman], Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves (1991)

Azog the Defiler [Manu Bennett], The Hobbit Trilogy (2012-2014)

Balian de Ibelin [Orlando Bloom], Kingdom of Heaven (2005)

Bard the Bowman [Luke Evans], The Hobbit Trilogy (2012-2014)

Ser Barristan Selmy [Ian McIlhinney], Game of Thrones (2011-2019)

Father Beocca [Ian Hart], The Last Kingdom (2015-2022)

Beowulf [Gerard Butler], Beowulf & Grendel (2005)

Bilbo Baggins [Martin Freeman], The Hobbit Trilogy (2012-2014)

Bjørn Ironside [Alexander Ludwig], Vikings (2013-2020)

Bofur [James Nesbitt],The Hobbit Trilogy (2012-2014)

Boromir, Son of Denethor [Sean Bean], The Lord of the Rings Trilogy (2001-2003)

Sir Bowen [Dennis Quaid], Dragonheart (1996)

Sir Brian de Bois-Guilbert [Sam Neill], Ivanhoe (1982)

Sir Brian de Bois-Guilbert [Ciaran Hinds], Ivanhoe (1997)

Bronn [Jerome Flynn], Game of Thrones (2011-2019)

Brother Cadfael [Derek Jacobi], Cadfael (1994-1998)

Carlos I [Álvaro Cervantes], Carlos Rey Emperador (2015-2016)

Caspian X [Ben Barnes], The Chronicles of Narnia (2010)

King Caspian X [Samuel West], Prince Caspian and the Voyage of the Dawn Treader (1989)

Cesare Borgia [Mark Ryder], Borgia (2011-2014)

Cesare Borgia [Francois Arnaud], The Borgias (2011-2013)

Charles Brandon [Henry Cavill], The Tudors (2007-2010)

Prince Charmont [Hugh Dancy], Ella Enchanted (2004)

Prince Chauncley [Daniel Radcliffe], Miracle Workers: The Dark Ages (2020)

Chris Vexler [Karan Soni], Miracle Workers: The Dark Ages (2020)

Chu Hun [Peter Ho], Double World (2020)

“Cinderella’s Prince” [Chris Pine], Into the Woods (2014)

Connor MacLeod [Christopher Lambert], Highlander (1986)

Corlys Velaryon [Steve Toussaint], House of the Dragon (2022-)

Ser Criston Cole [Fabien Frankel], House of the Dragon (2022-)

Daario Naharis [Michiel Huisman], Game of Thrones (2011-2019)

Prince Daemon Targaryen [Matt Smith], House of the Dragon (2022)

Darkness [Tim Curry], Legend (1985)

Ser Davos Seaworth [Liam Cunningham], Game of Thrones (2011-2019)

Prince Dastan [Jake Gyllenhaal], Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time (2010)

Dong Yilong [Henry Lau], Double World (2020)

Khal Drogo [Jason Momoa], Game of Thrones (2011-2019)

Durotan [Toby Kebbell], Warcraft (2016)

Eamon Valda [Abdul Salis], The Wheel of Time (2022-)

King Ecbert Ealhmunding [Linus Roache], Vikings (2013-2020)

Lord Eddard Stark [Sean Bean], Game of Thrones (2011-2019)

Edgin Darvis [Chris Pine], Dungeons & Dragons: Honour Among Thieves (2023)

King Edmund the Just [Skandar Keynes, Mark Wells], The Chronicles of Narnia (2005-2010)

King Edward I Plantagenet [Stephen Dillane], Outlaw King (2018)

King Edward III Plantagenet [Blake Ritson], A World Without End (2012)

King Edward IV Platagenet [Max Irons], The White Queen (2013)

Edward, the Black Prince [James Purefoy], A Knight’s Tale (2001)

Edward Seymour, Earl of Hertford [Claude Rains], The Prince and the Pauper (1937)

Elendil [Lloyd Owen], The Rings of Power (2022-)

Elrond Half-elven [Hugo Weaving], The Lord of the Rings Trilogy (2001-2003)

Elrond Half-elven [Robert Aramayo], The Rings of Power (2022-)

Sir Elyan [Adetomiwa Edun], BBC’s Merlin (2008-2012)

Éomer, Son of Éomund [Karl Urban], The Lord of the Rings Trilogy (2001-2003)

Erik Thurgilson [Christian Hillborg], The Last Kingdom (2015-2022)

Étienne de Navarre [Rutger Hauer], Ladyhawke (1985)

Faramir, Son of Denethor [David Wenham], The Lord of the Rings Trilogy (2001-2003)

Fezzik [André the Giant], The Princess Bride (1987)

Fili [Dean O’Gorman], The Hobbit Trilogy (2012-2014)

Finan [Mark Rowley], The Last Kingdom (2015-2022)

Fjölnir [Claes Bang], The Northman (2022)

Forge Fitzwilliam [Hugh Grant], Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves (2023)

Francesco de Pazzi [Matteo Martari], Medici (2016-2019)

Francois Villon [Ronald Colman], If I Were King (1938)

Frodo Baggins [Elijah Wood], The Lord of the Rings Trilogy (2001-2003)

Sir Galahad [Michael Palin], Monty Python and the Holy Grail (1975)

Galavant [Joshua Sasse], Galavant (2015-2016)

Galessin, Duke of Orkney [Alexis Hénon], Kaamelott (2004-2009)

Gandalf [Ian McKellan], The Lord of the Rings Trilogy (2001-2003)

Gawain [Dev Patel], The Green Knight (2021)

Gendry Waters [Joe Dempsie], Game of Thrones (2011-2019)

Geoffrey Chaucer [Pier Paolo Pasolini], The Canterbury Tales (1972)

Geoffrey Chaucer [Paul Bettany], A Knight’s Tale (2001)

George Plantagenet, Duke of Clarence [David Oakes], The White Queen (2013)

Geralt z Rivii [Michał Żebrowski], Wiedźmin {The Witcher} (2002)

Geralt of Rivia [Henry Cavill], The Witcher (2019-)

Gest [Jakob Þór Einarsson], Hrafninn flýgur {When the Raven Flies}(1984)

Gimli, Son of Gloin [John Rhys-Davies], The Lord of the Rings Trilogy (2001-2003)

Giuliano de Medici [Bradley James], Medici (2016-2019)

Glenstorm [Cornell John], The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian (2008)

Prince Graydon Hastur [Tony Revolori], Willow (2022)

Gríma Wormtongue [Brad Dourif], The Lord of the Rings Trilogy (2001-2003)

Gu Tingye [Feng Shaofeng], The Story of Minglan (2018)

Guildenstern [Tim Roth], Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead (1990)

Gündoğdu Bey [Kaan Taşaner], Diriliş: Ertuğrul {Resurrection: Ertuğrul} (2014-2019)

Sir Guy of Gisbourne [Basil Rathbone], The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938)

Sir Guy of Gisburne [Robert Addie], Robin of Sherwood (1984-1986)

Sir Guy of Gisborne [Michael Wincott], Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves (1991)

Sir Guy of Gisborne [Richard Armitage], BBC’s Robin Hood (2006-2009)

Sir Gwaine [Eoin Macken], BBC’s Merlin (2008-2012)

Haldir of Lothόrien [Craig Parker], The Lord of the Rings Trilogy (2001-2003)

Prince Hamlet [Laurence Olivier], Hamlet (1948)

Prince Hamlet [Christopher Plummer], Hamlet at Elsinore (1964)

Hamlet [Iain Glen], Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead (1990)

Lord Harekr [Bradley James], Vikings: Valhalla (2022-)

King Henry II Plantagenet [Peter O’Toole], Becket (1964)

King Henry II Plantagenet [Peter O’Toole], The Lion in Winter (1968)

King Henry V Plantagenet [Laurence Olivier], Henry V (1944)

King Henry V Plantagenet [Kenneth Branagh], Henry V (1989)

King Henry V Plantagenet [Tom Hiddleston], The Hollow Crown (2012-2016)

Henry VII Tudor [Luke Treadaway], The Hollow Crown (2012-2016)

King Henry VIII [Ray Winstone], Henry VIII (2003)

Prince Henry [Dougray Scott], Ever After (1998)

Hubert Hawkins [Danny Kaye], The Court Jester (1955)

Hugh Beringar [Sean Pertwee], Cadfael (1994-1998)

Prince Humperdink [Chris Sarandon], The Princess Bride (1987)

Inigo Montoya [Mandy Patinkin], The Princess Bride (1987)

Isildur, Son of Elendil [Maxim Baldry], The Rings of Power (2022-)

Ivanhoe [Anthony Andrews], Ivanhoe (1982)

Ivar the Boneless [Alex Høgh Andersen], Vikings (2013-2020)

Jacques le Gris [Adam Driver], The Last Duel (2021)

Jack [Tom Cruise], Legend (1985)

Jafar [Marwan Kenzari], Aladdin (2019)

Ser Jaime Lannister [Nikolaj Coster-Waldau], Game of Thrones (2011-2019)

James Douglas [Aaron Taylor Johnson], Outlaw King (2018)

Jareth, the Goblin King [David Bowie], Labyrinth (1986)

Jaskier [Joey Batey], The Witcher (2019-)

Prince Jingim [Remy Hii], Marco Polo (2014)

Little John [Nicol Williamson], Robin and Marian (1976)

Little John [Eric Allan Kramer], Robin Hood: Men in Tights (1993)

Prince John [Claude Rains], The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938)

Prince John [Richard Lewis], Robin Hood: Men in Tights (1993)

Prince John [Oscar Isaac], Robin Hood (2010)

Jon Snow [Kit Harrington], Game of Thrones (2011-2019)

Ser Jorah Mormont [Iain Glen], Game of Thrones (2011-2019)

Kai [Michael Gothard], Arthur of the Britons (1972, 1973)

Kili [Aiden Turner], The Hobbit Trilogy (2012-2014)

The Kurgan [Clancy Brown], Highlander (1986)

al’Lan Mandragoran [Daniel Henney], The Wheel of Time (2022)

Sir Lancelot [Luc Simon], Lancelot du Lac (1974)

Sir Lancelot [Nicholas Clay], Excalibur (1981)

Sir Lancelot [Richard Gere], First Knight (1995)

Sir Lancelot [Santiago Cabrera], BBC’s Merlin (2008-2012)

Legolas Greenleaf [Orlando Bloom], The Lord of the Rings Trilogy (2001-2003)

Leofric [Adrian Bower], The Last Kingdom (2015-2022)

Sir Leon [Rupert Young], BBC’s Merlin (2008-2012)

Lin Shu [Hu Ge], Nirvana in Fire {Lángyá Bǎng} (2015)

Loial [Hammed Animashaun], The Wheel of Time (2022-)

Lurtz [Lawrence Makoare], The Lord of the Rings Trilogy (2001-2003)

Madmartigan [Val Kilmer], Willow (1988)

Le Maître d'Armes (the fencing master) [Christian Bujeau], Kaamelott (2005-2009)

“Man With Snake” [Barry John Clarke], Edward II (1991)

King Mark of Cornwall [Rufus Sewell], Tristan & Isolde (2006)

Martin [Rutger Hauer], Flesh + Blood (1985)

Massetto [Dave Franco], The Little Hours (2017)

Matrim “Mat” Cauthon [Donal Finn], The Wheel of Time (2022)

“The Mayor of Hamelin” [Claude Rains], The Pied Piper of Hamelin (1957)

Mehmed II [Cem Yiğit Üzümoğlu], Rise of Empires: Ottoman (2020-2022)

Meriadoc “Merry” Brandybuck [Dominic Monaghan], The Lord of the Rings Trilogy (2001-2003)

Merlin [Nicol Williamson], Excalibur (1981)

Merlin [Sam Niell], Merlin (1998)

Merlin [Colin Morgan], BBC’s Merlin (2008-2012)

Mikoláš Kozlík [František Velecký], Marketa Lazarová (1967)

Miles Hendon [Errol Flynn], The Prince and the Pauper (1937)

Mordred [Jason Done], Merlin (1998)

Much [Sam Troughton], BBC’s Robin Hood (2006-2009)

Murtagh Morzansson [Garrett Hedlund], Eragon (2002)

The Mute [Jon Bernthal], Pilgrimage (2017)

Nasir [Mark Ryan], Robin of Sherwood (1984-1986)

Niankoro [Issiaka Kane], Yeelen (1987)

Niccoló Machiavelli [Julian Bleach], The Borgias (2011-2013)

Niccoló Machiavelli [Thibaut Evrard], Borgia (2011-2014)

Nicodemus Ravens [Jakob Oftebro], Skammerens Datter {The Shamer's Daughter} (2015)

Prince Oberyn Martell [Pedro Pascal], Game of Thrones (2011-2019)

Odda the Elder [Simon Kunz], The Last Kingdom (2015-2022)

“One-Eye” [Mads Mikkelsen], Valhalla Rising (2009)

Osferth [Ewan Mitchell], The Last Kingdom (2015-2022)

Sir Percival [Tom Hopper], BBC’s Merlin (2008-2012)

Peregrin “Pippin” Took [Billy Boyd], The Lord of the Rings Trilogy (2001-2003)

Pero Tovar [Pedro Pascal], The Great Wall (2016)

Perrin Aybara [Marcus Rutherford], The Wheel of Time (2022-)

Petyr “Littlefinger” Baelish [Aiden Gillen], Game of Thrones (2011-2019)

High King Peter the Magnificent [William Moseley, Noah Huntley], The Chronicles of Narnia (2005-2010)

Philip II [Timothy Dalton], The Lion in Winter (1968)

Phillippe Gaston [Matthew Broderick], Ladyhawke (1985)

“The Player” [Richard Dreyfuss], Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead (1990)

Podrick Payne [Daniel Portman], Game of Thrones (2011-2019)

Prince Prospero [Vincent Price], The Masque of the Red Death (1964)

Ragnar Lothbrok [Travis Fimmel], Vikings (2013-2020)

Ramsay Bolton [Iwan Rheon], Game of Thrones (2011-2019)

Rand al’Thor [Josha Stradowski], The Wheel of Time (2022-)

Ravenhurst [Basil Rathbone], The Court Jester (1955)

“The Red Death” [John Westbrook], The Masque of the Red Death (1964)

Renly Baratheon [Gethin Anthony], Game of Thrones (2011-2019)

Richard Cypher [Craig Horner], Legend of the Seeker (2008-2010)

King Richard [Timothy Omundson], Galavant (2015-2016)

Richard II Plantagenet [Ben Whishaw], The Hollow Crown (2012-2016)

Richard III Plantagenet [Aneurin Barnard], The White Queen (2013)

King Richard III Plantagenet [Benedict Cumberbatch], The Hollow Crown (2012-2016)

King Richard IV [Brian Blessed], The Black Adder (1982)

Rilk [Jesse Lee Keeter] JourneyQuest (2010)

Robert of Artois [Jean Piat], The Accursed Kings (1972)

Robert of Huntingdon [Jason Connery], Robin of Sherwood (1984)

Robert the Bruce [Chris Pine], Outlaw King (2018)

Robin Hood [Errol Flynn], The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938)

Robin Hood [Richard Todd], The Story of Robin Hood and His Merrie Men (1952)

Robin Hood [Sean Connery], Robin and Marian (1976)

Robin Hood [Michael Praed], Robin of Sherwood (1984)

Robin Hood [Kevin Costner], Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves (1991)

Robin Hood [Cary Elwes], Robin Hood: Men in Tights (1993)

Robin Hood [Jonas Armstrong], BBC’s Robin Hood (2006-2009)

Robin Hood [Tom Riley], Doctor Who: “The Robot of Sherwood” (2014)

Robin Longstride [Russell Crowe], Robin Hood (2010)

Rodrigo Borgia [Jeremy Irons], The Borgias (2011-2013)

Rollo [Clive Standen], Vikings (2013-2020)

Roose Bolton [Michael McElhatton], Game of Thrones (2011-2019)

Rosencrantz [Gary Oldman], Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead (1990)

Count Rugen [Christopher Guest], The Princess Bride (1987)

Saburo Naotora Ichimonji [Ryu Daisuke], Ran (1985)

Saladin [Milind Soman], Arn: The Knight Templar (2007), Arn: The Kingdom at Road’s End (2008)

Samwise Gamgee [Sean Astin], The Lord of the Rings Trilogy (2001-2003)

Sandor Clegane [Rory McCann], Game of Thrones (2011-2019)

Saruman [Christopher Lee], The Lord of the Rings Trilogy (2001-2003)

Stannis Baratheon [Stephen Dillane], Game of Thrones (2011-2019)

Tajomaru [Toshiro Mifune], Rashomon (1950)

“The Sherriff of Nottingham” [Alan Wheatley], The Adventures of Robin Hood (1955-1959)

“The Sherriff of Nottingham” [Peter Cushing], The Sword of Sherwood Forest (1960)

“The Sherriff of Nottingham” [Alan Rickman], Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves (1991)

“The Sherriff of Rottingham” [Roger Rees], Robin Hood: Men in Tights (1993)

Sid [Luke Youngblood], Galavant (2015-2016)

Sihtric Kjartansson [Arnas Fedaravicius], The Last Kingdom (2015-2022)

Simon Aumar [Justice Smith], Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves (2023)

Steapa [Adrian Bouchet], The Last Kingdom (2015-2022)

Syrio Forel [Miltos Yerolemou], Game of Thrones (2011-2019)

“Taunting French Guard” [John Cleese], Monty Python and the Holy Grail (1975)

Theoden, Son of Thengel [Bernard Hill], The Lord of the Rings Trilogy (2001-2003)

Thierry de Janville [Jean-Claude Drouot], Thierry la Fronde (1963-1966)

Thomas Becket [Richard Burton], Becket (1964)

Thomas Cromwell [Mark Rylance], Wolf Hall (2015-2024)

Sir Thomas Gray [Nigel Terry], Covington Cross (1992)

Thorin Oakenshield [Richard Armitage], The Hobbit Trilogy (2012-2014)

Thranduil, The Elvenking [Lee Pace], The Hobbit Trilogy (2012-2014)

Thraxus Boorman [Amar Chadha-Patel], Willow (2022)

Tom Builder [Rufus Sewell], The Pillars of the Earth (2010)

Tormund Giantsbane [Kristofer Hivju], Game of Thrones (2011-2019)

Sir Tristan [Kingsley Ben-Adir], King Arthur: Legend of the Sword (2017)

Trumpkin [Peter Dinklage], The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian (2008)

Mr. Tumnus [James McAvoy], The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (2005)

Turgut Alp [Cengiz Coşkun], Diriliş: Ertuğrul (2014-2019)

Tyrion Lannister [Peter Dinklage], Game of Thrones (2011-2019)

Lord Tywin Lannister [Charles Dance], Game of Thrones (2011-2019)

Ubbe [Jordan Patrick Smith], Vikings (2013-2020)

Uglúk [Nathaniel Lees], The Lord of the Rings Trilogy (2001-2003)

Uhtred of Bebbanburgh [Alexander Dreymon], The Last Kingdom (2015-2022)

Ulrich von Jungingen [Stanislaw Jasiukiewicz], Knights of the Teutonic Order (1960)

“Unnamed Elf Escort” [Bret McKenzie], The Lord of the Rings Trilogy (2001-2003)

Uther Pendragon [Gabriel Byrne], Excalibur (1981)

Uther Pendragon [Anthony Stewart Head], BBC’s Merlin (2008-2012)

Vaisey, Sheriff of Nottingham [Keith Allen], BBC’s Robin Hood (2006-2009)

Vlad III Dracula [Luke Evans], Dracula Untold (2014)

King Vortigen [Jude Law], King Arthur: Legend of the Sword (2017)

Wat [Alan Tudyk], A Knight’s Tale (2001)

Wen Kexing [Gong Jun], Word of Honor (2021)

Westley [Cary Elwes], The Princess Bride (1987)

Wil Ohmsford [Austin Butler], The Shannara Chronicles (2016)

William Wallace [Mel Gibson], Braveheart (1995)

Will Scarlet O’Hara [Matthew Porretta], Robin Hood: Men in Tights (1993)

Will Scarlett [Patrick Knowles], The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938)

Will Scarlett [Christian Slater], Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves (1991)

Will Scarlett [Harry Lloyd], BBC’s Robin Hood, (2006-2009)

William Thatcher [Heath Ledger], A Knight’s Tale (2001)

Willow Ufgood [Warwick Davis], Willow (2022)

Xenk Yendar [Regé-Jean Page], Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves (2023)

Zbyszko z Bogdanca [Mieczyslaw Kalenik], Knights of the Teutonic Order (1960)

#pre tournament #entrants #fuck that medieval man #it's raining men

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kiatheinsomniac · 1 year ago

Text

──── 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄 ˊˎ -

☾ ⋆ ﾟ𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 / 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: a commission from @tired-lime who's always a darling to work with 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Ratonhnhaké:ton | Connor Kenway x Reader 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 6.7k 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: MDNI, NSFW content, enemies to lovers, porn with plot, fingering, handjobs, creampies, unprotected sex

You walk as calmly as you can through the narrow alley, not daring to lift your eyes from where they look straight ahead of you and glance towards the rooftops that cast darkness over you, the silvery moonlight gleaming just ahead as the streight leads to the main road. This place is out of sight of the sparse public that might wander past at this time of night, your vision is limited in the darkness it provides and there’s ample opportunity for an overhead ambush.

All of this puts you at every disadvantage, perhaps, but that’s exactly what you want the man tailing you to think. You keep your eyes straight because Assassins like rooftops. They provide coverage and blindspots, hidden in plain sight as most people simply don’t find themselves looking up with their eyes to the sky as they go about their day and all the tasks that come with it. It’s precisely why you’ll always find an Assassin stalking you from above and never from upon your own level.

In short, you’re baiting the Assassin above you who has gone to so much care to silence his footsteps and conceal his shadow from your sight. But you’re a Templar. You’re trained to know your enemy. You spotted him not long ago, lingering around a crowd outside an inn, trying to blend in. But your purpose for going out at all today has been to bait him, those are your orders.

Your ears are kept vigilant for the sound of something small flying through the air and in a moment's notice, you lunge forward to dodge the rope dart that had been aimed at you. There’s a hissed curse and you draw your sword as the Assassin makes his leap down to you, using a ledge of a windowsill garden to lessen his fall. He stands tall in front of you now, white beaked hood up and hiding his face. His hidden blade shoots out as he parries your offensive blow with his gauntlet.

You’re still not entirely sure what material it is that Assassins make their gauntlets from. Your mentor Haytham has one and he claims that it’s an alloy from a precursor civilization but when your higher-ups start talking like that, you sometimes begin to wonder if you’ve really overstepped your depth as an ex-mercenary and have accidentally joined a cult.

Regardless, the Assassin stands tall before you now. He is Achilles’ new novice, so you’ve been told. The only member of his ranks as your mentor has told you of how a companion of his wiped out the last generation of Assassins here in the colonies, thus giving your Order ample room to plant its roots. Though you have no name nor face to put to this companion of Haytham’s as he is always very quick to change the subject or to remind you to not speak out of line whenever your curiosity gets the better of you and you start to press for details of this mysterious person’s identity if only to create an image in your mind for all of this information that you are given.

His free hand takes out a tomahawk and you’re put on defence. You take a step back but make sure to stay in the alley and out of the public space. The last thing you want is nearby law enforcement or civilians to get involved. But the clashing of metal upon metal rings out in the otherwise quiet night.

He fights cleanly using his sheer strength and towering figure which puts you at a disadvantage. His technique is curated to be quick and efficient but your style often depends on your agility, stamina and tiring out your enemy. You’ve already laid such a foundation by baiting him to follow you from the rooftops – a much more strenuous journey than the one you had taken upon the ground. But there was something to how he was swinging at you with his tomahawk, movements tight to not allow you to get too far, a passion to his every strike and parry.

You know when you’re outmatched and so you’re now put on defence and wondering what could have happened between intel and being given your orders that could have possibly allowed you to go about this mission alone instead of preparing a sort of ambush in order to put an end to this lone Assassin that has been terrorising the Order once and for all.

Had you let the higher-ups flatter you over your skills into thinking you were truly capable of this task they had set upon you? Regardless, you’re in this now and your only priority has suddenly become making it out of here alive. You take a risk and do a rescan of your surroundings, looking for anything that might be of aid to you in order to give you just a slither of an opportunity of getting away. But you remain aware of your enemy’s every move, knowing that even a momentary slip up can be the cause of your untimely demise.

But the Assassin trying to cut you down is just as trained as you are – if not more so – and this subtle scrambling of yours does not go unnoticed by his keen, dark eyes.

“Out of your depth, Templar?” He asks in his smooth and rich tone.

“You wish I were.” You bite back and manage to take swift steps backwards, enough for you to assess that the risk of lowering your sword in exchange for the gun at your hip is worth it in order to try and create a window for escape. You take aim but don’t fire. You should be firing. You should be killing this man.

Why did they send you on this mission alone?

It’s all you can think to yourself as your finger hovers over the trigger. The Assassin knows he’s done for if your finger so much as twitches now and yet he freezes, seeing your hesitation. The two of you are brought to a standstill with you aiming your gun at the Assassin’s head and yet your finger hovers over the trigger, refusing to squeeze. He has no opportunity to strike you down at this moment as in a fraction of a second, hesitation can become a killing blow.

Your eyes narrow slightly as you repeat that question to yourself: why did they send you on this mission alone? This Assassin is clearly far more skilled than you are and even baiting him here after a journey that should have tired you out has not made a dent in his stamina. He’s been cutting down British soldiers and Templars alike, chipping away at the order for reasons not yet known to you other than the simple explanation of ‘we are Templars, he an Assassin’. Why did you believe your higher-ups when they told you that you could handle this solo mission? Have they sent you here as an execution and if so: why?

“Why do they want you to kill me?” You murmur. The question is asked aloud and yet you’re not sure if you’re asking him or yourself. This seems to make even the Assassin pause in puzzlement. If they want you dead then what are they doing now? Are you merely a distraction?

“That’s a good question indeed.” The toweringly tall Assassin raises his hands in a gesture of surrender and you slowly lower your gun but keep a good amount of distance between the two of you, each standing at either side of the narrow alley you had originally lured him into. You tap your toes against the ground as you ponder over questions again: is this a distraction or an execution? Either way you’re clearly expendable and it comes as a surprise to you because you were so sure you were in the Grandmaster’s good books.

So what has changed to make Haytham use you as a sacrificial pawn in whatever game he’s playing here in the colonies? Neither of you are sure what to do now, having both arrived here late at night with intentions to kill the other. But now you see that the true plan behind all of this was for you to die all along. It’s enough to make Ratonhnhaké:ton stand down and wish to spare you. Someone is pulling the strings here and part of their plan includes your death. So what’s to happen when this plan is interrupted.

“I won’t kill you today.” He speaks up after finally making up his mind following a few minutes of thick silence wherein you were both deep in thought, trying with your minds to uncover the obscurity of whatever the bigger picture is here. The best course of action is to disrupt the plans of whoever it is that’s painting it. “But when you fall it will be by my hand, Templar.” You shoot the man a glare where his eyes would be, concealed behind the shadow that the beak of his hood casts over his face in order to hide his identity.

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that, Assassin.” You quip back but you hear him scoff as he puts his tomahawk away when you set your gun back into its holster.

“You’re right. Your masters seem to be set on beating me to that.” You open your mouth to protest but he’s already making his way up the wall of one of the buildings you’re between and returning to the rooftops. You’re quick to exit the alley and get into the middle of the main street so that he doesn’t have an opportunity to assassinate you from above should he be bluffing or perhaps change his mind and deal with you now before you become a loose thread. But he doesn’t and you’re left standing in the middle of an empty street at night.

Could you even go back to your quarters now? Perhaps they’ll use the failed mission as justification to finish you off themselves. You need somewhere to stay until you’ve figured out what’s going on and whether or not you’ve been betrayed by the Order that you had sworn your own loyalty to. But where to go?

Your eyes rise up to the rooftops that the Assassin had disappeared over. You’ve been set up by the people who this man is set on killing.

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend…” You murmur to yourself as you spot a nearby ladder and use it to make your way up onto the same rooftop. It’s a risk you’re taking but it seems that every path available to you now has some degree of risk to it and so you’re left with no choice but to weigh your options and gamble.

Your foot taps anxiously against the cobble beneath you as you consider your plan. If your Order seeks to erase you, it won’t even be safe to go back to your rented room and pack a bag of your belongings. It’s the first place they’ll go to look for you and with the network of spies Haytham has been building across the city, it won’t take long for word to get back to him that you’ve failed your mission. You won’t get far hiding either. All of your tricks, you’ve learned from your mentor and to try and hide would be to put yourself at a disadvantage by playing the game of the man who had so clearly intended to use you as a pawn in whatever grand scheme he’s hatching; not so long ago, you had thought you knew his plans but tonight has changed your course of events entirely.

Into the belly of the best it is.

You decide. Now up on the roof, you look with your second sight. It’s your upper hand and even Haytham has admitted that it was one of his greatest factors in considering you as an advantageous candidate for a Templar. The route he’s taken lights up gold and you begin to follow all the twists and turns he took that would have thrown off anyone else who might have been tiling him. Not you though.

°:. *₊ ° . ☆ ☾　 °:. *₊ ° . ° .•

You find yourself outside a manor upon a homestead. It wasn’t an easy journey by any means and you hadn’t expected him to have covered so much ground either. In the forest, you found yourself wishing you had stopped to hire a horse – you still had some money on you after all. You took a break twice, made a camp once after scouting out the area but you admittedly slept very lightly. You weren’t a wilderness girl and the anxiety of being found by a wolf or bear had kept you from falling into a truly restful sleep.

And so you found yourself feeling both tired from a long way’s travel and a poor night’s rest during the small hours of the morning, all while heading right into the den of your enemy who, currently and ironically enough, seems to be your only possible ally.

The manor standing tall in the clearing above you is built in typical colonial fashion with red bricks and white embellishments. Its large size makes use of the spacious land it is upon and your mind wanders back to the stories Haytham once shared with you about the Brotherhood that once lived and trained here. Looking at the size of the place, it’s easy to imagine so many people living here once upon a time and difficult to imagine that today it only houses the old Mentor and the one and only Assassin who still lives by their Creed here in the colonies.

Though that’s only as much as your Order is aware of. You keep your wits about you, more than aware that you don’t know what you’re walking to, nor do you know how many potential foes reside within those four walls. You may very well be running from one death straight into another.

But your options are slim and you’ve wagered that your odds are better here. Back with the Order, you’re a pawn that should have submissively been sacrificed. Here, you’re either a target to be taken out immediately or a valuable source of information. After all, you’ve been betrayed and they may consider that you have every reason to surrender all of the Order’s secrets that you possess.

These are all just possibilities though and death remains a very likely outcome.

You stand from an awkward distance on the treeline for a while. Surely you can’t just knock on the front door being who you are? Then again, if you take any other route, they might see it as an ambush and you’ll be in combat or even dead before you can open your mouth to explain your intentions. Despite every other instinct within you telling you to turn tail and run to the nearest harbour, to leave the region altogether on whatever boat you can get yourself aboard, you approach the front door.

A shadow falls over you when you raise your fist to knock upon the door. He’s good at what he does, you’ll give him that. Immediately, you feel the warm, sharp edge of a blade resting against your throat. Warm and so it’s the hidden blade that the likes of him keep tucked up their sleeves, a blade like the one your mentor possessed. You’d always found it rather ironic that Haytham always stands so tall beside his principles and yet he fights with the enemy’s weapon.

“Did you come here thinking you could finish the job and go crawling back to your master?” His voice speaks up from behind you. You raise both of your hands in the air in a sign of surrender, keeping them far away from your hips where your weapons are kept around your belt. He doesn’t hesitate in unbuckling it and removing it from your body and moments later, you hear it hit the floor some distance away where he’s thrown it. You’re not unarmed in enemy territory and you begin wondering if this really was the best plan of action after all.

“I actually came with a proposal…” You begin slowly. You’re not entirely sure how to present yourself, your tone. Even you’re unsure if your own plan will work but you need to sound certain or else he may well believe you’re just here to trick him in which case he’ll kill you.

You don’t need to turn around to know that he’s looming over you. You wonder sometimes how a man of his stature can blend into crowds and hide in plain sight the way Assassins are taught to. And yet he does and it’s truly a testament to his skill.

“And what might this proposal be?” You swallow thickly. Your life depends on being able to convince him that you’re being honest, which he has every inclination to doubt considering your current standing as enemies.

“It’s been made clear that I’m seen as expendable, so I’d much rather prove just how essential I was. I have information: contacts, travel routes, locations of higher-ranking Templars. Whatever mission you’re on, I’ll speed it up by months, maybe even years.” You tilt your head back a little more, trying to ease the pressure when the blade presses more insistently at your skin.

“And why should I believe you?”

“Because I came here. Because I’ve got nowhere else to go at the moment and I’m risking you slashing my throat just for a chance to try and get out of this ordeal alive after what happened last night.” The blade leaves your neck but the threat is not removed as you then feel it poke at your back, spurring you forwards at a slow pace, hands still raised.

“Step inside.”

°:. *₊ ° . ☆ ☾　 °:. *₊ ° . ° .•

Months later, you find yourself setting up camp in a familiar cave. These meetings have become familiar to you and nowadays this little cave feels like the safest place in the world. You’ve been working as a double agent for the past few months and being in the Order feels like having death loom over your shoulder all the time now. Being a Templar had once given you such a feeling of purpose and belonging, that you had a key, unshakable place in the world, that you were guiding it in a better direction.

But the more you’ve been reporting back to Connor and the chats you have in between, the more you have to take a step back and ask yourself if you were being told a one-sided story the entire time. You haven’t set foot on Connor’s homestead since you first arrived and he had to send you back with a split lip, gashed jaw and sprained wrist to make it seem like you really had fought him and not conspired with him. That gash now remains as a scar across the lower part of your face. Each time you look in the mirror, it reminds you of your new mission as the Assassin’s spy.

And each time, you pray that you’re doing the right thing.

Your attention is grabbed by the sound of feet on dirt and you look towards the mouth of the cave where he stands tall now, moving to sit on the opposite side of your little fire so that he’s facing you. His gloves come off and he rubs his hands together near the open flames. His hood comes down to reveal a face strikingly like your mentor’s and you can’t believe that this man is now your only ally in the world and you can’t even be entirely sure of his loyalty. All you know is that you need to keep yourself indispensable in order to keep breath in your lungs and a heartbeat in your chest.

He reaches into his bag and takes out a small, wrapped package. Scaled fish. They’re skewered and set over the fire to cook.

“Thank you.” You say stiffly. Interactions like this are still so unusual to you. He nods his head in a silent ‘you’re welcome’.

“What’s new?”

“Lee’s on the move.” His dark eyes quickly flick up to meet yours and you can see the deep interest in them. You haven’t asked why he’s after Lee specifically though it confuses you as you would have been sure he would go after Haytham; to cut the head of the snake, so to speak. But you’ve never asked because this vendetta seems deeply personal and you’re next to certain that he won’t open up to you about it. “They’re making preparations to receive him in Boston so whatever he’s come back with must be important… or they know that you’re after him. I’ve yet to find out which it is because I don’t have direct access to such information and I can’t put myself at risk if this is a red herring and they suspect something. But the moment I find out more I’ll tell you – but take everything with a pinch of salt.”

He nods, deep in thought and you wonder what’s going through his head. You always worry that doubt will creep into his mind and will ultimately drive him to kill you. You can only hope that he’s instead thinking about exacting whatever revenge he has planned for Charles Lee. His thirst for revenge currently is what’s keeping you afloat. Without his vendetta, you’re worthless to him.

“How have you been?” You’re not sure if you’re asking out of politeness or loneliness. Are you trying to keep in his good graces or are you seeking out the warmth of a friend, even if what’s between you isn’t really friendship?

“Busy…” He sighs. “Your Order’s been on the move.”

“I’ve heard about your meetings with Washington.” You bite your lip as you ponder your next question. It’s personal but a chance not taken is an opportunity missed. “You… You’re meeting with all these generals, men of influence and yet you work in the shadows. Do you truly have no wish for the world to remember your name? You really want to just vanish?” You had been drawn to the Templars partially by glory, by the chance of making a place in the world, a change where you and your fellow members of the Order would be revered for centuries to come.

“I do not want to be remembered, no. Our creed states that we work in the dark to serve the light. This war will be lost to memory and I will do my part to make sure that it is the Assassins who bury any record of it.” Your first reaction is to think of him as ridiculous: he’s thrown any chance at a normal life away for a battle he will never be credited for. But it’s selfless. He has nothing to gain but what he believes in: no fame, no power, no glory.

Maybe you really have been misled.

The Templars had always preached peace but with that peace came the Order having ultimate power over humanity, domination over free will. You had once focused so heavily on how that absolute control would stop war, would stop suffering. But at what cost? It must be a great one for this man in front of you to be throwing any semblance of a normal life away for it.

“Tell me more about your Creed.” He turns over the fish and glances up at you once again, meeting your curious eyes. You’re sitting down with your legs curled up to your chest, arms wrapped around them with your hin propped on your knees. This isn’t smalltalk or you digging for information, it’s genuine interest. He hadn’t missed your pondering look before, that glint of unsurety in your eyes.

“Alright…”

°:. *₊ ° . ☆ ☾　 °:. *₊ ° . ° .•

Weeks later and you meet again, having shared many more meetings in the meantime. You understand Ratonhnhaké:ton better now, you understand his creed. He seems different from his mentor that Haytham had told you about, so very different. He doesn’t meddle in the first civilisation that your mentor speaks of so frequently and you wonder if it’s for the best after the stories you had heard of while in the Order. Haytham speaks of them vaguely but you still have a comprehensive enough understanding.

The more he speaks, the more you doubt your own order who wish to use these artefacts for their plans to shepard humanity towards its best self, the more you wonder if your superiors in the Order are just set on a path to repeat history. You’ve shared with him all the information you have now. You now feel like less of a double agent and more of a spy – having to give away anything about the Assassin you’ve come to secretly think of as a friend feels like a betrayal, even if it’s only for the sake of protecting your ulterior motives for having returned to the Order at all after that night you first encountered Rathonhnhaké:ton for yourself.

He’s been more open with you too. Haytham is his father – something which both made sense, looking at his face, and shocked you, considering he is an Assassin and his father a Templar. Charles Lee, at Haytham’s command, had burned his village to the ground as a child, killing his mother. You empathise with that deeply. You had joined the Order knowing that you had no family of your own to lose should things get messy. It seems that the two of you are in the same boat for that one.

Now, he’s picking out the bones from your fish while you prepare some water to boil over the fire. But time has moved on and winter draws near, bringing a chill into this little cave that feels like it’s become your one and only sanctuary in the world. You hold your open palms near the fire and try to chase away the chill but it does you very little good.

Connor watches you for a moment before he removes his gloves and hands them to you. As he holds them out silently, those well-worn gloves appear like an olive branch to you. This really is for the best, you think. More and more, you’ve come to realise that you were misled by your Order. You were promised to be a harbinger, to be one of the names that would live on forever as a part of the order who had saved humanity. But you were a pawn all along. Even despite your special abilities, Haytham had been more than willing to sacrifice you for whatever gain. You might have a little more value in his eyes now that you’ve ‘proven’ you can take on the Assassin and get away with your life but you’ve seen your old mentor, you’ve heard how he talks of the first civilisation. He’ll stop at nothing and you’re more than sure that should he see another opportunity where your sacrifice and earn great gain for him and his plans, he’ll send you walking straight into the arms of death all over again.

You take the gloves and slide them on over your hands.

“Thank you.” You offer a smile but you hold back just how happy this small gesture makes you. They’re far too big but they’re soft and warm. They’re clearly broken in, the fingertips especially worn down from what you can only assume is all the climbing he does in stalking around with the stealth of his kind. But it’s the fact he’s given them to you at all that touches your heart.

The two of you eat, drink, you share intel and it becomes late enough that you wrap yourself tightly in a thick blanket and curl up on your bedroll beside the campfire. The cave provides enough shelter to keep out the bitter wind but the temperature has still dropped drastically with the change of seasons. You sit up to wrap your blanket around your feet better and you find yourself wishing you had brought another pair of socks or, better yet, a warmer pair. You then lay back down, curled in on yourself to try and gather as much insulation as possible, and close your eyes to try and sleep. But the cold instead bites at your ears and so you pull your blanket up over the back of your head like a hood and shuffle a little closer to the fire so that your nose is warmed by the flame.

You hear shuffling around you and crack an eye open to see that Rathonhnaké:ton has moved. He’s no longer laid on his bedroll on the opposite side of the fire but has instead moved it right next to yours behind where you’re curled up on your side.

“I thought you’d be used to camping by now.” He murmurs and you can hear him lay down beside you, so close that you can feel the heat from his body.

“Not during the winter, I’m not.” You mumble into your blanket which you’ve pulled up by your mouth so that your breath can warm your face. You feel the weight of his arm lay over your waist and he then presses his chest to your back. You can feel the warmth of his breath over your neck, heating the blanket that’s tucked over the back of your head. You stiffen for a moment, surprised by his willingness to be close to you.

You feel your heart flutter in your chest and you lean into his warmth. How long has it been since anyone held you like this? It’s wonderful and overwhelming and suddenly there’s no more winter, nothing outside of this little cave where you’ve been setting up camp to meet for almost a year now.

“Thank you…” You say quietly. Whether for the warmth, or the touch, or for the new path he’s opened to you that you’ve set your life upon now, you’re unsure.

“There’s no need to thank me.” He replies just as quietly. The two of you lay there for a long time and your heart doesn’t slow, beating like a rabbit’s. He’s so close and you hadn’t expected such a thing to be so exhilarating. Rathonhnaké:ton is a toweringly tall man and you’ve always viewed it as an advantage for when he needs to intimidate. But now, you feel safer than you’ve known since that night of your first encounter when your illusion about the Knights Templar was shattered.

After a while, you can’t take it anymore and you turn around just enough to be able to look at him over your shoulder. Your faces are very close and you can feel his breath fan across your lips. When you look to meet his eyes, he does the same as he had previously been looking at your mouth.

“Feeling warmer?” He asks, his voice a rumbling murmur. You give the slightest little nod and your eyes very obviously glance at his pillowy lips again. You don’t try to hide it and nor does he miss it. You’re unsure which of you leans in first – perhaps it had been the both of you, little by little, while you were both preoccupied in imagining how it might be to press your lips to the other’s – but he’s warm and the touch of his lips against yours fills you with a bubbling heat. You turn your body to face him and he pulls you closer by your waist, thumb pressing into you through your clothes and stroking over your body while your lips press and meet again and again. One of your hands goes up to cup his face, feeling his chiselled jaw and cheekbones, then your fingers slide into his silken hair and tangle gently into it when your tongue slides against his.

You pull away for air for a moment but it’s short lived as his teeth pull gently at your bottom lip and his mouth then grazes against your chin and traces the curve of your jaw in kisses. The cold that had previously bothered you is completely forgotten about and he tugs the collar of your layers of clothing aside so that he can kiss against the pulse of your throat. Your hands find his chest and press to try and feel the contours of his body through his clothing but all the buttons and straps get in your way. Your fingers start working to undo buttons before you realise how caught up you’ve got and you pull away for a moment.

“Is this ok?” He gives a small nod and leans in to kiss you again as you remove his clothes. You leave his shirt and jackets open, revealing scarred, bronze skin to you. His body is shaped like an ancient statue of legendary heroes. You can’t help but take the opportunity to rove your palms over each contour and feel him in his beauty.

His large hands slide down to your hips and pull you a little closer. To accommodate him, you move to straddle one of his muscular thighs. He lifts it just enough to press against you and feels a deep stirring below his belt when your teeth sink into your bottom lip and you let out a soft moan.

You had never imagined you would find yourself in this position with Rathonhnaké:ton and yet now that you’re here together, it feels so right. It feels like you really have grown close enough to be like this, like stars in their orbit being pulled to one another. His mouth is on yours again in an instant while he presses his thigh between your legs and he starts to pull at your belt to remove the clothing on your lower half. You help him by tugging off your boots between messy kisses. Once your pants are off and your lower half is bare, you shiver as the chill begins to creep over your bare skin. Connor simply pulls you closer and wraps the blanket firmly around your body while you straddle his lap, taking care to tuck it under your legs in an attempt to keep in as much warmth as possible.

His fingers dance their way down to your mound where he can already feel the intense heat radiating from you.

“Do you want to keep going?” He asks as his mouth moves to press wet kisses beneath your ear, breathing over the sensitive spot and making you shiver as a result. You nod your head and unintentionally let a needy sound slip past your lips.

Ratonhnhaké:ton’s fingers glide through your slick folds and he lets out a little breath of wonder at the feeling of touching you in such an intimate place. Experimentally, he pushes one finger inside of you and watches how your spine arches and your body then bows to lean against him. He pushes it as far as he can go and begins moving it in and out. Letting your bodies take over, allowing words to become of little importance, you begin to grind your hips against his hand so that the heel of his palm catches your clit in a sensation that feels like a delicious burn. He adds another finger and you tug at his pants until his length, thick and heavy in your hand, is freed. You gently squeeze and hear how he sucks in a hiss through his teeth. You then begin to massage up and down, matching the pace of your hips moving to meet his fingers as they draw out soft, wet squelches from your pussy. You swipe over the slit at his tip with your thumb and hear how it makes him groan lowly. You glance down to see a little pool of your arousal gathering in the dip of his palm and decide that enough is enough.

You raise your hips up until his fingers slip out of you entirely. You then remove your hands from him and loop your arms loosely around his neck instead. He understands your intentions clearly and strokes himself a few times, covering his length in the slick from your pussy. You bring your hips back down and he guides himself into you. You’re quick to press your mouth to his in another messy kiss in order to muffle the moan you let out upon feeling the stretch of him pushing into you. You pause shakily along the way, deciding you can take all of him once you’re a little more adjusted, and start to ride.

Connor’s large hands slide beneath your ass to grab at the soft flesh that spills between his fingers and he uses his hold to support you in moving up and down, holding a lot of your weight with his strength. As you continue to move your hips rhythmically, one of his hands leaves your rear in favour of pulling at the buttons and ties that keep your chest hidden. Once it’s revealed, he lets out an appreciative groan of approval and his mouth latches onto one of your breasts as he pulls you closer and you ride him. Your head tips back to the ceiling of the cave and you pant as the wind whistles outside, joining with the crackling of the fire, the shift of the fabric of your clothing and blanket and the slick sounds of his cock filling you up over and over.

Ratonhnhaké:ton is big and consequently manages to hit all the right spots at once as he fills you again and again, your hips angled just right for him to brush against the places that have you curling your cold toes. His mouth slathers your breasts in kisses, pausing to nip or suck at your plush flesh and he works your blood into a feverish heat. The two of you pant for breath, moans and groans echoing off the stone walls.

After a while, his arms wrap around your waist as he lays back, bringing him with you. He kisses you firmly as he brings his knees up and you almost feel the breath get knocked from your lungs when he begins thrusting up into you. You rest your head on his shoulder as he pounds up into your sensitive pussy and your sensitive, teased nipples brush against his chest as your body shakes and wavers with his movements.

A pressure builds in your abdomen, growing tighter and more intense until your whole body is flooded in pleasure, walls squeezing tightly around his cock as though begging him to come with you. And you’re successful in sending him over the edge, hearing him moan, the whimper in his tone as he releases into you and holds you close as the two of you catch your breaths.

But then the cold starts to kick in again. He carefully lifts you so that his softening cock slips out of your messy pussy. You watch as he searches his pockets and takes out a handkerchief which he begins to clean your inner thighs with. He looks to you as if asking if you’re comfortable with him looking after you like this but he finds your head tilted back, eyes closed as your legs twitch at having him touch your sensitive folds to clean you up. He helps you redress and dresses himself before helping you into his coat and throwing some more wood onto the fire, wrapping the blanket around the both of you again.

Once more, you snuggle into his chest for warmth and neither of you are quite sure what to say, hoping the words will just come to you in the morning.

Ratonhnhaké:ton presses a kiss to your forehead and holds you a little tighter as he closes his eyes, listening to his own pounding heart, the crackle of the fire and the whining wind outside.

He decides to make sure that the Templars won’t ever have an opportunity to sacrifice your life again.

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