#assassin's creed platonic fluff

[always-just-red]

Hi! Hope you're having a good day!

Just found your blog yesterday and read Onychinus' Finest. I've been STARVED of Kieran and Luke fics, not enough people appreciate them, so I come with a request! (Most of what I'll say is totally optional. I believe in the author's creative vision overall so if something doesn't fit feel free to change and adapt whatever you'd like.)

Either hunter or assassin MC, where they're at a mission, and they're ambushed. One of the twins gets hurt protecting her, maybe even taken, and she just goes on a rampage to get him back. They've never quite seen her so protective and yet so vengeful. She might go by herself? When Sylus wants to plan ahead properly since his own miscalculations lead them to get attacked in the first place. The twins are loyal to him, the other brother won't go without his permission despise his brother being missing or hurt. I'm just picturing her finding a broken mask, half of it missing (she's never seen their faces before.)

Happy ending. 🥺 Just fluffy you know? I want the twins melting into her, one with gratitude for finding his brother and the other just with disbelief and affection that she's do all this for him.

Special mention to any heads on her lap like overgrown puppies, just holding her close. They're sweet boys I think, especially if their guard and masks are finally down.

You can take this as platonic or romantic, she could be with Sylus and still have grown to really care and look out for the twins, or she could love them. (I don't know which ones angstier)

Thank you for even considering this even if you decide it's not worth your time!

AAAAAAA HEY!! You had such a vision for this and it was so fun to work with-- I hope it's everything you imagined! You've always been so so so supportive and kind, so I low-key went all-out on this, that's half the reason it took so long. 😭😭 Think this is my longest fic so far oh my gosh? Love it though, all the action scenes took me RIGHT back to my Assassin's Creed fanfic writing days haha Anyway! This is set in the same canon as the last fic because I loved that dynamic ngl. Not a direct sequel though!

Beneath The Mask

Luke and Kieran x Reader 🎭

Summary: Sylus and Kieran are useless, as always, so you take matters into your own hands

Genre: angst + fluff + ACTION!! *karate chops*

Warnings/Additional tags: f!reader, nonMC!reader, platonic Sylus x reader, swearing, descriptions of violence, injury, broken bones, killing (don't @ reader, she wants her man back!!), but also some humour 😌

| Word count: 4.6k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

Sometimes, you think you’re the only member of Onychinus who isn’t completely out of their mind.

You’d think it was Sylus, your indomitable leader. Smiles-with-a-knife-at-his-throat Sylus. Has-the-situation-completely-in-hand Sylus. It used to inspire you: that crimson gaze of his, always alight with a fire that’s never, ever, quite out of control.

How does he do it? You’d wonder in awe, like a wide-eyed child enthralled by a magic trick.

How does he do it? You’re wiser, now. You know it’s a lie, now, but you still can’t see through it. It’s driving you mad.

You watch as the man works away at a large, glass monitor, his fingers gliding across the screen with their usual grace. You get glimpses: names, faces, contacts. He’s testing the cords of his network— an intricate web— and he’s hoping someone’s caught something he can sink his teeth into.

He’s been at this for two hours, ever since you dragged yourselves back here with your tails between your legs. There’s a gash on his forehead that hasn’t yet healed, and the blood is still drying, dark on his face. Has he thought to heal it? Or— there’s a smudge on his finger— does he like his guilt a little warmer to the touch?

“We need an order, boss,” you seethe, because you’re tired of standing beside him, unacknowledged.

“You have your order.” He types out a message. Dismisses another. “Wait.”

“I meant an order that isn’t complete bullshit.”

He shoots you a glance, his eyes embers of warning. “Careful, sweetie. You forget yourself.”

Your fists ball. “Oh, spare me.”

“What would you have me do?” he mutters, gaze returning to the screen. He isn’t rising to the challenge, or should you say— stooping to it. He’s so goddamn noble.

“They have Luke, Sylus.”

“I know.”

“So let’s fucking do something! Let’s go back, let’s get him. They caught us off-guard last time, that’s all. They got their hands on some Ever tech, so what? We know that, now. They don’t stand a chance if we just—”

“Charge in there, guns blazing?” Sylus finishes for you, lips curled in derision.

It sounds stupid out loud, and he wants you to hear it. You do; you don’t care. “We don’t need all of this,” you beseech, your hand waving over the monitor. “We have you, boss.”

“Me?” he chuckles, and it’s so, so bitter.

Is that the guilt you’ve been looking for? It isn’t enough. His eyes are still pools of calm— spilt blood, unreciprocated. How does he do it?

“We have to do something,” you say limply. “Please, I can’t… I can’t do this, Sylus. All this nothing. Tell me what to do. I’ll go back alone if I have to. Just say the word and I’ll—”

“Look at this,” he interrupts, stepping away from the screen so that you can take his place before it.

It’s an order, even if it isn’t the one you want. You roll your eyes as you obey, and you begin to scour the intel he’s gathered. Eyewitness accounts, rumours, surveillance footage— some courtesy of Mephisto— and it’s all centred around two things. One: the aspiring new gang you’d set out to dismantle earlier, and two: a link to Ever. A solid link to Ever. 

“They didn’t steal Ever’s tech,” you release on a sigh of understanding. “They’re working together.”

“Mmm.” Sylus’s hand clears the screen before you. “We should have known. I should have known.”

Your mind is so caught-up by the revelation that you almost miss the confession.

“This was my mistake,” he continues, watching you. “And you are all my responsibility. Believe me…” He taps the screen and live surveillance footage springs up: an outside view of the compound you’d raided earlier. “I want to burn that place to the ground as much as you do.”

But… “No collateral damage,” you murmur, eyeing the guards on patrol.

“No collateral damage,” Sylus nods. “Do you trust me?”

“I trust you, boss.”

And maybe he is burning with just as much anger. Maybe the fear is making his heart drum, and the guilt making his skin crawl. It’s the same, old trick, isn’t it? Done to death:

The mask without a mask— just where does he hide all that?

Maybe he doesn’t.

There’s only so much faith you can have in something you can’t see.

…

Clink.

You slot a bullet into the magazine of your pistol, then follow it up with another. Clink. Then another. Clink. You’ve never relished this quiet— not like Sylus does. To him it’s an art. To you: a chore. You glance about the armoury, and you’ve never resented your shelves of options quite like this before. Antiques. Prototypes. So many means of dealing death.

You’ve never seen the beauty in it, but a shot through the heart means something different to Sylus than it does to the rest of you. It can be intimate. Symbolic. He can die for something, someone, and he can do it over, and over, and over again. How poetic.

You holster your loaded weapon, then reach for another.

“What’re you doing?”

The voice makes you jump. “Gods, Kieran. You want a bullet through your head?”

“No.” He misses the meaning of your words. “Why— wanna shoot me?”

“Right now?” you ask cynically.  

He laughs like he hasn’t got a care in the world. Liar. You’ve finished loading the second gun so you slide it across the table to him wordlessly. The beak of his mask lowers as he regards it; he doesn’t pick it up.

“You’re being weird,” he says after a moment. “It’s cool. I like it.”

You roll your eyes, wandering over to a rack of weapon attachments. There are different sights. Silencers. (Is that how you want to play this? Quiet?) “I’m going back for Luke,” you state as you muse it over. “You want in, or not?”

The rest is implied: Sylus doesn’t know. He isn’t coming. All of that’s evident from the fact that you’re here, rifling through his precious collection, and not ensnared in the tendrils of his Evol somewhere. A toddler could connect the dots. Kieran will get there. Give him a minute.

It takes half a minute. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles. An ambiguous apology.

“It’s fine, Kieran.” He was never going to come with you. “I can do this alone. I can—”

A weight lands on you, tackling you into the weapons rack, and you land on the floor amongst the attachments you’d just been perusing so calmly. The weight stays on you, pinning you: hands are on your wrists, twisting you around. “Kieran!” you protest.

The man pulls away, leaving you slumped in your new, uncomfortable seat.

“Wha—” You try to stand up but you’re jolted back; your wrist is fixed to something. You turn your head, eyes widening as they fall on the pair of handcuffs you’ve been restrained with. They’re padded— lined with a soft, velvety material. “Where the hell did you get these?”

“Boss’s room. Luke and I had a bet,” Kieran shrugs, now towering over you.

“You win?”

“Heh. Yeah.”

You’re still trying to squeeze your hand out of the cuffs. You pry at them. Twist and wriggle your fingers— none of it’s any use. You glance up at Kieran, admitting defeat with a sigh. He brushes his hands together in a ‘job well done’ sort of gesture, his eyes fixed on you, well— you have to imagine they are.

Instead of windows to the soul you’re faced with red-glass imitations, impossible to read, and you’re tired of all the guessing.  

“How do you do it?” you ask with a quiet desperation. “How do you act like everything’s fine?”

“Boss will come up with a plan,” the twin says simply, like he hasn’t really thought about it.

“And what if it takes too long? What if we’re too late? I mean… think of all the shit he knows, Kieran. Everything about us, about boss— it’s priceless. Do you really think they’re holding back?”

Kieran huffs. “You worried he’ll snitch or something?”

“I’m worried they’re hurting him!” you snap. “What the hell is wrong with you!? He’s your brother! He could be dead and you’re acting like, like..”

Your voice trails off as you gaze up at him hopelessly. There’s nothing to see— no tension in his body, no harsher rise and fall to his chest, betraying a nervous, racing heart. All the usual signs are missing. He isn’t shifting on his feet like he does when he’s anxious. Is he that good at pretending, or…

Does he really not care?

You shake your head, looking down at the floor; you’re so sick of red eyes. He’s crazy. Sylus is crazy.

There’s nothing for it, then.

“You know what?” you chuckle dryly, under your breath. “Maybe you’re right. This isn’t all bad, I mean… when’s the last time you and I had any one-to-one time, huh?”

Kieran is silent. He lowers himself slowly until he’s crouched before you— forearms resting on his knees. His head tilts inquisitively: Go on.

“Maybe,” you lilt, “this is an opportunity.” You’re practically whispering, and the man leans in, not wanting to miss a word. Your free hand reaches for a horn of his hood and you use it to pull him closer; he doesn’t even resist. “How about we…” you speak into his ear, “go look through Luke’s stuff?”

Kieran draws back, those false eyes meeting yours with an intensity that makes you think, for a second, that you’ve gone too far.

“You’re the best,” he breathes out, suddenly fiddling with the handcuffs, slotting the key into the lock. “Just… the absolute best.”  

Got him.

The cuff springs open and you’re on top of him, tackling him to the ground and pinning his arms by the side of his head before he can think to stop you. “Oh,” he grumbles, going still beneath you, and it sounds like his eyes are narrowing, “you’re not the best. You’re sneaky.”

His compliance lasts all of a second, and then he’s fighting back— using his strength to throw you off balance and wrench his wrists free. He rolls on top of you, trapping you just as effectively as you’d done him, and he laughs like a child, having ever so much fun.

With a grunt of effort, you manage to push him aside. You turn onto your stomach, scrabbling away as you look for space, opportunity, and— if you’re being honest— something you can throw at him. A hand connects with your shoulder and you thrust your elbow backwards on instinct. It hits something hard.

“Ah, shit! Wait, wait, wait… time out.”

You freeze instantly.

Kieran’s voice is different; it’s acquired a clarity that tells you his mask his away from his face. Don’t move. You stare down at the floor with a patience that’s almost sacred. He’s taking a while, though…

“You ok?” you ask.

“Yeah.” His voice is different again, like he’s holding his nose. “Nosebleed.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“It’s cool.”

You sit up with your legs crossed while you wait, but your eyes are still trained downwards. You can hear Kieran’s breath, a little ways behind you— so much clearer without the mask— and the intimacy is always sobering. Realising he’s vulnerable, knowable, and all you have to do is turn around. 

He doesn’t rush, though: doesn’t scramble to pull the mask back down, or insist you keep looking away. The silence, the stillness— all of it is trust.

There’s movement in the corner of your eye; he’s set the mask down on the ground while he bleeds.

“I’m worried too,” he admits softly, and you’re not sure what’s more foreign: his voice, unhindered, or the honesty it carries. You don’t want to scare either away, so you do nothing. There’s more: “I can’t leave boss, though. Who else has he got?”

“The hunter?”

“Nah,” he dismisses. “She’s hot stuff, y’know? A lot of players in that game.” He taps at his mask idly. “Heard one of them’s a doctor.”

You’re quiet again. Thinking.

“Boss always has our back,” Kieran asserts. “We have to look out for him too… That’s the job, right?”

He’s not really asking you; you came to this late, after all. It was their job long before it was yours.

You’ve nothing to do but look at your hands and listen, biding your time. The passing seconds are still restless, useless, but the sensation slips when you feel hands on your waist, pulling you back. Kieran’s arms wrap around you. His chin settles on your shoulder, and you close your eyes.

“Stay,” he says. “Please?”

His pain is harder to sit with than your own. Minutes ago, this was something you wanted. Now it’s just another wound you don’t know how to stitch up; too deep, too late.

You let your head rest against his, but you don’t say a word.

…

This was easier when you were relying on Mephisto’s guidance and not hazy, disjointed memories. The last time you were here you were running, Kieran at your side and Sylus not far ahead. You weren’t thinking about what corners you turned or what directions you travelled; you were thinking about everything behind you. Shouts. Gunshots. The subtler rush of your leader’s Evol, still crackling, still faltering, courtesy of whatever technology your attackers had managed to appropriate.

It all happened so quickly.

Every corridor feels longer, now. Each moment— slow. Your body is aching. You’ve lost count of how many encounters you’ve had, but there’s a new bruise or scrape for every body in your wake. None of it has been easy. You ran out of bullets just getting inside this damn place, and the rest has been messier: up-close and personal.

You’re catching your breath, so you toe the rifle of your last adversary, lying a short way from their limp, open hand. They never got a chance to use it, and you were lucky; it would have been loud. Every guard in this run-down labyrinth is looking for you. The last thing you need is to send out a homing beacon.

Glance around. Try to work out your bearings.

This was once a police station. Old-world. Eroded beyond recognition, almost. These places were the first to fall victim to the backwards evolution of the N109 Zone. The bones are the same, but the skin is different. Every wall is scrawled with anti-Association sentiments.

It makes you smile, despite everything.

Your footsteps are deliberately quiet as you carry on down the corridor, turning into the next room— you’ve been tackling them one-by-one. There’s a narrower corridor before the room opens out, and then…

Cells.

A short line of them— five in total. Your heart wants to beat faster with hope, but your mind is holding it back: insisting this is wrong. It seems abandoned. Forgotten. You walk by the first cell, and then the second. Nothing. The third. Nothing.

There’s a sound behind you, and you almost don’t hear it. You spin, only to find a hand wrapped around your throat, tight and unforgiving. A guard thrusts you up against the red-brick column that divides two cells, and you’d cry out in pain, but there’s no breath to carry it. Your eyes water. You try to prise the hand away, and it’s desperation that possesses you— not skill or experience.

You kick out and hit nothing, but the second time, you catch the man’s shin. He shouts, his grip failing just enough for you to slip your fingers beneath his. A few seconds of advantage. You grasp his wrist, using your other hand to wrench his forefinger backwards— crack. He staggers with a cry and then you’re dodging his frenzied attempts to recapture you: weaving behind him, seizing the back of his neck. Your foot trips his. He’s teetering, off-balance, and you use the momentum to crash his head against a bar of the cell.

Metal rings out. Flesh splits.

The guard crumples at your feet and you almost go down with him. Your lungs are pulling for so much air that it makes your throat sting. Adrenaline laps your limbs, celebrating in sheer, ecstatic disbelief; you’re alive.

Someone wolf-whistles and you swear you feel everything stop.

Your gaze shoots up, lit by hope, but it’s quickly snuffed out. A young man is watching you from the fourth cell, his arms threaded through the bars. There’s a shameless grin as his eyes flit over you. All of you.

“Fuck off,” you sneer as you step over the guard. You turn to leave.

“Rude.”

Your eyes go wide. You spin back. “Luke?”

The man cocks his head like you’ve asked a trick question. “... Yeah?” It takes a drawn-out moment of you staring at him, motionless, for him to recognise your confusion. “Oh, right. Here—” he draws up his hood and the horns are missing, so he emulates them with pointed fingers— “this help?”

You lunge forwards, trapping him in a hug through the bars of his cell; you barely notice the separation. He chuckles as he hugs you back: “Miss me?”

“Yeah,” you exhale in relief, even though he was definitely setting you up for a joke. You break away from him, forcing yourself to look at anything but his face. Gods, his face. Pretend you don’t already want to look again. “Are you hurt?” you ask. “Did they—”

“Nope!” he interrupts with what sounds like a smile. “I told them everything.”

You glance up; you can’t help it.

He winks at you. “I lied. Glad you got here before they figured that out, though. Sheesh, that would not have been fun.” His hands wrap around the bars. “Can you get me out of here?” He tugs at them. “Pleeease?”

Right. “Yeah.” You glance around. You just need to find the—

“Key’s with the dead guy,” Luke says. “What a jerk, huh?”

It still feels like there are hands on your throat. “Totally.” You wander over to the body, bending down to rummage through the man’s pockets. After a brief search, you produce the key.

Luke slow claps. “My hero.”

You laugh softly as you return to the cell, unlocking the door and pushing it open. The twin strides through, giving a little bow as he passes, then stretches his arms like he’s just been set free from a much smaller cage.

“So…” He speaks in a sing-song sort of voice, sniffing the air like it’s sweeter. “Where’re boss and Kieran?”

“Um. Home?”

Luke narrows his eyes at you— vaguely resembling the slits of his missing mask. “You went rogue?”

You wince. “I did go rogue.”

You’re still being studied warily. Luke has raised an eyebrow and it’s so starkly expressive; is this a look he gives you often? You have a feeling it is. Then he shrugs and it’s gone. “That’s hot,” he quips. He crouches down beside the dead guard, lifting the body and puppeteering one of the arms to wave at you. “Look— this is gonna be you when boss finds out.”

You cross your arms. Luke laughs, dropping the man back down with a thud. “Just you and me then?” he clarifies, holding a hand out to you.

Are you supposed to know what to do with it? “You and me,” you confirm. Your hand goes out too.  

Luke slaps it gently one way, then another. He entangles your fingers. Pulls back. Does a few more slaps in sporadic directions, and— is this a secret handshake? You don’t have a secret handshake.

“Nice,” he beams once the ritual is complete. “Let’s go, let's go!”

…

Luke is hanging close to the wall across from you, waiting— listening— as you both brace yourselves behind the turn of yet another corridor of the rival base. He sneaks glances around the corner.

“Anyone there?” you whisper.

He shakes his head, but he doesn’t look at you. He doesn’t press on, either, because it’s odd; you’d both thought you’d heard something. This isn’t your usual strategy— playing it safe. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Luke err on the side of caution, but he’s concentrating, even closing his eyes so he can listen harder.

You take advantage of the moment in a way you shouldn’t: letting your gaze linger on his face. Even with his hood up— shadows lowered like a veil— he’s still a stranger to you. You want to know him; you know him already. He’s been smiling at your jokes forever, but tell him one now, and it’ll be the first time.

His eyes open, meeting yours. Could he sense you watching? He grins, poking his tongue out at you.

“Stop it.”

“You stop it,” he retorts. The coast must be clear, for he comes away from the wall and rounds the corner with a spring in his gait.

You sigh as you stand to follow him. One less-enthusiastic step forward, and something snakes around your ankle. Your gaze drops like a stone, but it isn’t fast enough. You’re hauled into the air, voice failing, vision swimming as the world flips upside-down and you’re strung up from the ceiling. “Luke!” you manage in warning.

Are those his footsteps, coming back? You’re facing the wrong way and you try to lift the lower half of your body so you can reach for your ankle, but you’re already exhausted. Your muscles burn. After a few, futile inches, you give up, going limp.

There are footsteps behind you. “Oh, hey boss!” Luke exclaims.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

An unwitting pendulum: you can’t keep your body from turning, ever so slowly, until you’re staring the right way down the corridor. You can’t see much of it, though.

Sylus is in front of you, so close that you can almost feel the heat of his eyes.

“Hey, boss,” you echo reluctantly.

He says nothing, and behind him, Luke slides a gloating finger across his own throat: you’re dead! And you’re turning, still. Sylus lifts a hand to the top of your head and swivels you back to him. “What happened to that trust of yours, sweetie? Hmm?”

You half-laugh, nervous. He doesn’t seem quite as amused.

Releasing your head, he steps back with a huff of disappointment as you start a slow rotation once more. He taps a finger to his chin pensively, like you’re a masterpiece he’s convinced might be a forgery, now that he’s looking more closely. “Reckless little thing, aren’t you?” he tuts.

There’s maybe a smile, but it’s short-lived; the dark rope around your ankle whips you into the air. You shriek with shock as you lose all bearings, all vision, all sense of reality. You’re falling.

Someone catches you.

“My reckless little thing,” Luke grins, jostling you into a more secure position in his arms. “Mine.”

You want to protest, but your breath is gone.

“You can’t afford her,” Sylus speaks over his shoulder; he’s already taken the lead in guiding you out of here. Mephisto squawks somewhere up ahead, appearing in a cloud of smoke and feathers.

Luke gives a defensive hmph as he holds you a tighter. Then he smiles down at you, and though it’s new, you know it’s far from the first time, and even further from the last.

…

“Are we really doing this?” you ask Sylus sceptically.

“Lighten up, sweetie.” He clicks his fingers.

Not far from you, currently oblivious to your presence, Kieran stands at the door of your leader’s study, still waiting for an order. The air above him changes: it swirls with a dark, scarlet mist. Luke drops out of it, landing straight on his twin’s back.

“What the—” Kieran splutters, but his brother’s arms are over his shoulders, around his neck. “Get off!” he squeaks out.

“No way. I was a prisoner,” Luke chortles. “You have to be super nice to me. Carry me everywhere. Boss said so.”

“He did not!”

And with those words, Kieran flips his other half the rest of the way over his shoulder; Luke lands on the ground with an unceremonious splat. All four limbs are sprawled. “Ow!” he whines.

Sylus has already strode the rest of the way into the room. “Play nice,” he scolds as he steps over Luke, then passes by Kieran.

“Yes, boss!” they chime, stilling obediently as the older man disappears into his study. The moment the doors close behind him, Kieran throws himself down. He wrestles with Luke, both of them laughing and rolling around as they try to hurt each-other.

It makes you think of those old, vintage cartoons you used to see on TV. You can just picture the cloud of dust, the colourful stars and shapes flying with every traded punch. Idiots.

You leave them to it, slinging yourself down on a couch and closing your eyes. Gods, you want to sleep. There’s blood dried to your hands and face, but you’ll shower later. There are grazes and cuts still bleeding, but you’ll tend to them later. Everything can wait.

The room has gone quiet. Too quiet; you open your eyes.

Luke and Kieran stand in front of you ominously, their figures symmetrical. The illusion of reflection is broken by Luke’s absent mask, but his eyes are just as unreadable.

“What?” you cave.

“You went rogue,” Kieran states, and his brother is nodding gravely, like this is a very serious infraction.

You smile. “I did go rogue.” More shameless than last time. “I got a free pass, though. Luke said it was hot.”

Kieran’s mask turns to face his twin, slow and resentful. Luke shrugs. “What? It was.”

There’s an impasse: long enough to make you think they’re having some kind of secret discussion. Both twins look at you. You smile sheepishly. You don’t think you’ll ever really know the entirety of what goes on in those heads, but it’s for the best. You value your sanity.

“You went rogue,” Kieran carries on, as if his speech had never been interrupted, and his authority not just completely undercut. He moves closer, slinking down beside you, and Luke plays the part of his mirror image. “There will have to be a… punishment.”

The word is elongated for effect, and it’s remarkably similar to Kieran’s ‘ghost voice’— which you know, thanks to the time he roped you into that ‘the base is haunted!’ prank. (Sylus did not, in fact, fall for it.)

“Bring it,” you murmur, closing your eyes again. “I just stormed a whole enemy base single-handed. I think I can handle the two of—”

Your voice meanders to a stop as Kieran nuzzles against you. His mask is off; you feel the soft of his face and the bridge of his nose. His breath is light on your neck. You smile, slipping deeper into your seat and then his embrace as his arms go around you. He’s warm. Really warm.

There’s a weight— Luke’s head on your lap— and he hugs you too, arms lower around your waist. His breath tickles your stomach. You hum in contentment, running your hands through his hair. 

He's safe. You're all safe.

They were never going to say thank you; it’s not in their nature. Their language isn't superficial. It isn’t words spoken aloud or feelings worn on the face— it can’t be. A smile is too easily read by the rest of the world, but a smile behind a mask? It’s private. Reserved only for those who’ve learnt to hear it in your voice, or see it in the way your body relaxes when you hold someone you care for.

A language of tiny, intimate details.

Kieran has never nestled his face quite so closely against you. You don’t think you’ve ever known Luke go so long without talking.

[auroramoon-draws16]

Have I done this one before? I hope not

Assassin’s Creed x The Mandalorian

Dadalorian edition

DinLuke (you can keep it platonic if you want, but I’m a sucker for this ship, sorry not sorry)

Din adopts eldritch kid Desmond.

Desmond does his usual thing, aka dies, and gets isekai’d to a whole different galaxy. He doesn’t remember the full extent of his past, but he does remember shitty dad and early assassin training. (Plus ancestor memories in the form of dreams) He’s like… 6 at this point, first grader age.

He wakes up in an ancient force temple where Din was scoping out some kind of Jedi artifact for Luke, Desmond happened to be holding it when he appeared there.

Din finds Desmond and immediately goes “ah yes, a free child, mine now” but in his own way. Desmond is a nervous baby, but he eventually goes “tall scary armored man, he’s blue tho, and has food, so… friend? Friend.”

Din takes baby Desmond and the artifact back to Luke who’s grateful and fond at how sweet Din is being with both Desmond and Grogu.

Cue adorable fluff and domestic cuteness, also angst because Desmond describes how his og dad was like and they’re both just like: “yeah, no, this is our baby now, no take-backsies”

Also force shenanigans, Luke was nervous at first, due to how Desmond seemed so comfortable using the dark side of the force, but ultimately accepted how light side Desmond is about it and how calm he is, so he lets it slide.

Bonus Mand’alor Din

Murder baby Desmond taking out an assassin by himself, Din is both bamboozled and proud while Luke is very concerned but also proud. The Mandalorians adore the young heir, he’s very sweet and also efficient.

[kissofmourningdeath]

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Welcome to the internet

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[About Me]

Idk I'll write if you send me requests. I like marvel, books and sour apple flavored candy.

Spam likes and roblogs are encouraged! *but i like comments the most*

My Main focuses|The Avengers, Poppy Playtime|

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

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NSFW/SFW Angst Fluff Smut Neutral Platonic Headcanons Preferences Oneshots Blurbs Series & Fanfics LBGTQIA+ asks

𝘎𝘈𝘔𝘌𝘚

Fnaf 1+|Security Breach/RUIN|, Poppy Playtime|Ch 1,2 & 3|, Undertale, Assassins Creed |Syndicate|, Faith the Unholy Trinity, Cuphed

𝙈𝙊𝙑𝙄𝙀𝙎

Marvel, Harry Potter |+Fantastic Beasts|, Beetlejuice |Musical, Show & Movie|, House of Wax, Texas Chainsaw Massacre|Bubba & Thomas|, Friday the 13th, The lost Boys, Scream, The Adams Family, Alice in Wonderland, Disney Villains, Jurassic Park/World, Tremors, Clue, Murder on the Orient Express, Spiderman into the Spiderverse, Joker

𝙎𝙃𝙊𝙒𝙎

Sherlock, Supernatural, Doctor Who, Psych, South Park, Avatar, Batman tas

Requests?|OPEN|

[angel-tries-to-write]

Bisexual disasters

Fandom: Assassin’s Creed Rating: General Pairing: Jacob Frye x Reader (not quite, can be platonic) Word count: 1501 Genre: fluff

In Victorian England, people who love differently, aren't really welcomed. Thankfully, the Rooks have different opinions.

Underground London would always follow its own rules. What was forbidden among the upper class, was common in places like this. It also meant it was fun, because nobles rarely knew how to have fun. The clock in this bar was showing almost eleven in the night, but you knew the real fun hadn't started yet. That night you wanted to take it slow, so you were sipping your ale when the others switched to something stronger already. You were fine with what you had, after all you wanted to get relaxed, not wrecked.

Apparently Jacob had similar plans, though he already had whisky, he was sipping it much slower than usual. But what didn't change was a bunch of omnipresent Rooks surrounding him, though the closest spots were taken by enamored young women who looked at the Assassin with adoration, they were drinking in his presence rather than drink alcohol like everyone else. You could also notice a group of men by the window, they were whispering and watching the scene with amusement. You assumed they were making fun of the girls and their loud gasps every time Jacob was flirting with one of them. And the more drunk he was getting, the more flirty he would become.

Suddenly one of the men from the distant group stood up, emptied his mug and approached Jacob. You could tell he was nervous.

“Boss, may I have a request?” he asked and Frye looked at him for a moment, then smirked.

“Ask whatever you want, lad” he answered and the poor guy got even more nervous. You observed it with curiosity.

“M-may I ask it privately? I mean, I...” he sighed. “I've lost a bet and I need to do something, but I don't want to lose my place among the Rooks” he explained with cheeks redder every moment. Jacob stood up and came close to the lad, then pulled him out of the prying ears. They talked for a brief moment, then Jacob approached the group by the window and he was rather upset. You had left your spot and moved closer to them, so you would be able to hear what they were talking about. The gang leader leaned on the table and looked at the young men.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, boss! We just wanted him to do something and confront his fears. We had no ill will, we swear, Rook's honor!” said one of them and the others nodded vigorously. Jacob looked at the lad, seeking for confirmation in his face. As soon as he had found it, the Assassin stepped back from the table, pulled the man close and kissed him shamelessly.

You couldn't believe your eyes. That huge flirt and womanizer was kissing a man. Unbelievable. But the more shocking was that no one around them actually cared. The guy's friends were shocked, but not offended, they were more surprised than disgusted. You couldn't take it anymore, you needed to leave, now. The sound of your chair moving rapidly drew more attention than Jacob's action, but you couldn't care less. You stormed outside, not bothering if someone saw you or not, you needed some air, you needed to calm down. Your head was spinning, your mind was a mess, and you didn't know what to think anymore.

Suddenly you heard footsteps behind your back, but you didn't turn around to see who it was. It's not like you had to, Jacob revealed himself pretty soon, when he called after you.

“(Y/n), what's wrong?” he asked. You didn't answer, only started to walk faster, then run. “(Y/n), wait!” he ran after you and soon he grabbed your hand, stopping you. “What happened? Why are you running away?” he asked, trying to understand what was going on.

“Why did you do that?” you asked instead.

“(Y/n), I...”

“Why would you do that? And so casually, like it was nothing, when we both know it's a big thing! You were not supposed to do that, then why did you do it?” you kept asking, not noticing the raise of your voice.

“What's gotten into you?”

“Just tell me. Please.” You looked at him with desperation in your eyes. You needed to know the answers.

“I just felt like it” he shrugged. “The boy is cute and he really should stop overthinking stuff.”

“Are you... do you... like... uh...” you tried to ask but the words kept stucking in your throat.

“Do I like men? Honestly, I don't know. It's all so wrong and messed up. But I think I do. And I like women too. It's confusing” he confessed. “But why did it upset you?”

“I'm sorry. It's not about you, it's about me” you admitted.

“What do you mean?”

“I... I understand this confusion. I've been feeling it my whole life. I like men, but there was always something drawing me to women either” you confessed and you could see Jacob's face changing from concern and confusion to understanding and relief. “When I saw you kissing that lad, I just couldn't take it anymore. All those feelings I've been trying to hide and get rid of through all my life just overwhelmed me.”

“Come here” Jacob opened his arms, offering you a hug. You hesitantly accepted his offer, but soon you had found peace in his embrace. “You have no idea how much it means to me. I have never met someone who would feel like I do.”

“Neither have I.”

“Can we go back to the pub?”

“Yes. I think I owe everyone an explanation.”

“Good point.”

You came back to the place you had left and the first thing you did was to find the lad Jacob had kissed. When you saw him miserably drinking his ale, you nearly ran there.

“Hey, I just wanted to say sorry for storming out like that. I can imagine you might have thought that it was your fault, but I swear it wasn't. You just helped me understand something about myself” you said smiling sheepishly and the guy smiled with relief.

“It's alright, miss (y/n). The Rooks have a lot of space for people who love differently and that's why I love this gang. So many people who don't judge and just let us be ourselves... It's nice”

“It is. But until tonight I was convinced I would always have to hide who I am”

“You have nothing to worry about” the lad's friend spoke. “In this gang either are the ones who love differently or we fully support those who do. Even the boss.”

“What do you mean?” you asked

“Jacob is not very discreet. It wasn't hard to figure out that he's into men as well as women. Of course, no one speaks loudly about it, but no one judges as well. You either accept it or leave the Rooks. That's a rule.”

“I'm surprised it's commonly known.”

“It is. Most of us are open about our preferences.”

“Well, I wish now I knew this earlier. I love like this either and I thought it's not something I should ever talk about.”

“We all did” some other guy spoke. “But once you're one of us, you can stop worrying about it.”

“Thanks.” You smiled with relief. After years of living in fear and shame, it felt nice to be in a supportive environment. You felt like you were freed from some shackles, and like you could finally be truly yourself.

A couple of days later, you were sitting in a pub with Jacob once again. But this time, both of you were having a great time, chatting about stuff. You were telling him a really funny story about one of your fights with Blighters, when suddenly you trailed off and forgot the rest of your words. Your attention was caught by a gorgeous woman, who's just entered the pub and you couldn't help but stare at her. Until you realized Jacob was laughing at you.

“I see your new identity suits you well” he joked.

“Oh, shut it. Did you forget how you almost fell off the roof last week, when you noticed a cute girl on the street?” you reminded him.

“And you were laughing so hard that you almost fell off the roof yourself.”

“She wasn't even that pretty.”

“Are you jealous?”

“Me? Jealous? I think you've had too much alcohol.” You shook your head.

“Oh my... wow...” he said and you thought he was teasing you further, but you noticed him looking above you. When you turned around, you saw a guy undressing, as if he was preparing to fight.

“Woah, he's hot” you commented and Jacob nodded.

“Not as hot as the girl you spotted, but indeed, he's quite attractive” he admitted.

“Is this how our relationship is going to look like? Drooling over attractive people and comparing our findings?” you half joked and Jacob shrugged.

“Are you complaining about that?”

“Not at all. Actually, I quite like that. Cheers.”

[werepuppy-steve]

cj/connor writer's tag | ficlets | fic recs | answered asks | tag masterlist | ko-fi

☾ ao3 fics ☽ - registered users only

🐾 darling, lets get old - G, 383, complete fluff, recreational drug use, marriage proposal

🐾 Starry Eyed Love - G, 1.1k, complete outsider pov, corroded coffin gig, established relationship

🐾 haunted by the ghost of you (take me back to the night we met) - T, 2k, complete vampire eddie, established relationship, post-s4

🐾 the magic that we'll feel is worth the lifetime - M, 7.7k, complete post-s3, established relationship, fluff, eddie's birthday

🐾 constant, pleasure - E, 3k, complete dom/sub, daddy kink, face slapping, spit kink, babygirl steve

🐾 [ hiraeth; ] - series, WIP appalachian eddie, established relationship, eddie munson's extended family

🐾 silent spark - G, 4.1k, complete animal crossing au, pining, fireworks date, platonic hellcheer, aspec steve

🐾 there's comfort in the panic - G, 1.2k, complete panic attacks, established relationship, lex's spicy six spring fanworks challenge, hurt/comfort

🐾 she put her love down soft and sweet - E, 5.7k, complete modern au, dom/sub, aspec steve, transmasc steve, established relationship, daddy kink

🐾 it's the spirit of the season - T, 3.8k, complete established relationship, christmas fluff, crack treated seriously

🐾 they said it all comes down to you - T, 1.5k, complete demon eddie, sacrifice steve, soulmates

🐾 sugar sweet as dixie crystal - E, 4k, complete established relationship, high school sweethearts, transmasc steve, ace steve, daddy kink

🐾 a whole lifetime - E, 1.6k, complete rockstar eddie, older/married steddie, daddy kink, dom/sub, babygirl steve, birthday sex

🐾 i'll be yours if you'll be mine - E, 1.9k, complete hand kink, spit kink, daddy kink, secret relationship

🐾 gold-skinned eager baby - M, WIP series rewrite, childhood friends, secret relationship

☾ tumblr ficlets ☽

🐾 farmer steddie - light dom/sub, steddie dads, older steddie 🐾 tiny hands, little feet - teen dads au, no upside down, transmasc steve 🐾 birthday blues - established relationship, fluff, steve's birthday 🐾 the night before christmas - steddie dads, modern au, emma verse 🐾 one more night - modern au, er nurse steve, established relationship, injuries, hurt/comfort 🐾 if i ain't got you - fight/make up, slow dancing, fluff 🐾 promise you forever - appalachian eddie, established relationship, drunk dialing, fluff 🐾 hold you close - transmasc steve, established relationship, comfort, menstruation tw 🐾 eddie's bad day - fluff, comfort, established relationship 🐾 steve's bad day - fluff, comfort, established relationship 🐾 night shift - nurse steve, modern au, established relationship, light smut 🐾 it takes a village - teen dads au, good uncle wayne, microfic 🐾 can you hear that scratching - established relationship, vampire eddie, microfic

☾ my friends ☽

@hammity-hammer @yournowheregirl @corrodedcoughin @tboybuck @starrystevie

@flowercrowngods @dangerous-disposition @fireandgrimstone @starryeyedjanai @legitcookie

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@sentient-trash @wormdebut @wynnyfryd @spectrum-spectre @steddie-island

☾ sideblogs ☽

🐾 doctor who - @rtd-who

🐾 oceanography - @deep-deep-blue

🐾 assassin's creed - @ivarr-s

🐾 pokemon - @lycanruff

dividers & banners by: me updated: 9/28/24

[slasher-cam]

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Welcome to the internet ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ [About Me] Idk I'll write if you send me requests. I like crafts, books and sour apple flavored candy. Spam likes and roblogs are encouraged! *but i like comments the most*

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

My main Focus|Poppy Playtime CH.3 , Avengers|

Keys

||NSFW-∿𖤐|SFW-♡|ANGST- 🥀|FLUFF-❀|LIME-𖣠|CRACK-⟡|PLATONIC-❁|ASKS-✰||

ꅏꃅꍏ꓄ ꀤ'꒒꒒ ꀸꂦ

NSFW/SFW Angst Fluff Smut Neutral Platonic Headcanons Preferences Oneshots Blurbs Series & Fanfics LBGTQIA+ asks

ꎇꍏꈤꀸꂦꂵꌗ

𝘎𝘈𝘔𝘌𝘚

Fnaf 1+ |Security Breach/RUIN| Poppy Playtime |Chapters 1,2 &3| Undertale Assassins Creed|Syndicate| Faith the Unholy Trinity Cuphead

𝙈𝙊𝙑𝙄𝙀𝙎

Marvel Harry Potter|+Fantastic Beasts| Beetlejuice |Musical,Show & Movie| House of Wax Texas Chainsaw Massacre|Bubba & Thomas| Friday the 13th The lost Boys The Addams Family Scream Disney Villains Jurassic Park/World Tremors|Valentine, Rhonda, Earl| Clue|Wadsworth| Murder on the orient express Death on the Nile|Hercule Poirot & Bouc|

𝙎𝙃𝙊𝙒𝙎

Sherlock Supernatural Doctor who|10th & 11th Doctor| Psych

|Characters I Do|

Requests?|OPEN|

[twistedgameswewrite]

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Welcome to the internet

° ∆ -------- ••• ------- ∆ °° ∆ -------- ••• ------- ∆ °

[About Me]

Same shit different blog except this one will be strictly about writing videogames while the other two will be about slashers and shit.

As always spam likes and roblogs encouraged *but i like comments the most*

-NEWS-

New Marvel and Tv/Movies blogs coming out soon so be on the lookout

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Main focuses|Team fortress 2, RDR2, MCSM|

||NSFW-∿𖤐|SFW-♡|ANGST- 🥀|FLUFF-❀|LIME-𖣠|CRACK-⟡|PLATONIC-❁|ASKS-✰||

ꅏꃅꍏ꓄ ꀤ'꒒꒒ ꀸꂦ

NSFW/SFW Angst Fluff Smut NeutralPlatonic Headcanons Preferences Oneshots Blurbs Series & Fanfics LBGTQIA+ asks

𝘎𝘈𝘔𝘌𝘚

Fnaf 1+|Security Breach/RUIN|, Poppy Playtime|Ch 1,2 & 3|, Undertale, Assassins Creed |Syndicate|, Faith the Unholy Trinity, Cuphead, Minecraft StoryMode, Team Fortress 2, COD |tf141+König|

Requests?|OPEN|

___________________________________________________________

Other Blogs

Marvel|Slashers

@marvelmisfit | @kissofmourningdeath

[tales-from-elysivm]

˗ˏˋ ꒰ masterlist ꒱ ˎˊ˗

-ˏˋ⋆ ᴡ ᴇ ʟ ᴄ ᴏ ᴍ ᴇ ⋆ˊˎ-

an updated master list of fics I have written (so far including this blog and my previous blog @writing-with-rania) :) please send me a message or an ask to see if I forgot any of your favourite fandoms

! REQUESTS ARE OPEN !

this will also include;

ˋ⋆ MY RULES ⋆ˊ

⭒ who is going to stop me? ⭒

first off, hi! I've done this before-

I used to go by the name rania, just for anonymity and stuff, but this time around you can just call me tahls! im a teen writer (17), I live in Australia, I have 2 cats and 1 dog, im autistic and I've been writing since I was around 5 or 6

I mainly started writing on Tumblr because I wanted to share the fandoms I love and improve my writing at the same time.

ˋ⋆ THE CONTENT I WILL WRITE ⋆ˊ

I am fine with writing most of the following things (I say "most" due to context, age gap concerns, specific requests, personal preference etc.)

fluff (of course)

angst (it'll hurt my feelings and yours)

NSFW (within reason)

platonic fics (friendships, parent/child, siblings etc)

headcanons

one shots

multipart fics

ˋ⋆ THE CONTENT I WILL NOT WRITE ⋆ˊ

heavy gore

r@pe, CNC, child abuse, SA etc.

excessive dark content

p*edo stuff

incest

I might dabble in yandere themes or try out more dark content later on, but im not willing to dive into it very soon or in such big doses, I would like to keep my boundaries until further notice <3

ˋ⋆ MY MASTERLIST ⋆ˊ

twisted wonderland

bnha

black butler

Genshin impact

resident evil

pokemon

the last of us

assassins creed

demon slayer

honkai star rail

cod: modern warfare

Hogwarts legacy

sally face

harry potter

red dead redemption

adventure time / Fiona and Cake

stranger things

life is strange

cyberpunk 2077

avatar the last airbender

avatar (James Cameron)

danganronpa

arcane

if there are any others you're curious about just send me a message and ill have a look at any other fandoms I should visit!

you are welcome to keep anon enabled or to request any anon tags as well! this is a safe space and I look forward to writing with you.

; some links to consider ;

how to help Palestine!

the Israeli themes of tlou

links to check out about the jk Rowling situation

[bookworm-with-coffee]

Torn. . .

(Liam O'Brien x Reader)

(A/N); Ollo and welcome to my first Assassin's Creed fic!! I figured whilst stumped on my other WIP's, I should follow the call of my inspiration and write for this underrated man! Do enjoy!

Plot; After Shay is presumed dead, you are left with a choice

Pairings; Liam O'Brien x Reader (Romantic) , Shay Cormac x Reader (Platonic)

Warnings; angst, mature themes, coarse language, suicide attempt (canon), violence, unrequited love, floofity-fluff

__________________________________________

The night air was taut with tension and restlessness at Davenport Homestead, an uninvited chill being carried upon the snowy breeze. It was long after midnight, the light of the fire's dying embers dancing across your face and illuminating the trails of tears that were left upon your cheeks.

Your throat was tight and raw from the screams and cries that had ripped from you naught but an hour previous. Blooded nail marks trailed your tremoring hands, your hood brought up to shroud your face from onlookers and the elements.

A hollowing pain sat within your chest, your mind drifting to the horrible events that had taken place earlier on in the evening.

Everything had been peaceful, until Shay—

You winced at the sting of your inner wound stirring, trying to banish the memories of your best friend's death from your mind to no avail.

Shay Cormac had taken his own life after stealing the manuscript from Achilles.

There had been a wild chase, and at the end; his untimely demise. The man you'd looked upon in those moments was the furthest thing from your best friend and you knew that his eyes would haunt you forever.

"That's enough!", Liam's scream halted the younger Irishman, his pistol drawn to hold Shay at gunpoint. Little did you all know, it wouldn't matter.

"Give back the manuscript, Shay!!", Hope begged. "I'm sure Achilles—".

"I cannot!!", Shay's cry cut through the howling wind, the fresh stinging of tears filling his hazel orbs. "I will not let this happen again!! All those souls lost—". He turned to look over the knife-edge upon which he stood, anxiety leaping into your throat at the realization that hit you. "One more hardly matters". He was going to—

"Shay!", you called to him, inching forwards with only the intent to save him; the man who held your heart. The manuscript could be thrown into the depths of the sea for all you cared. You just wanted him back.

The Irishman turned to you then, his chocolate hues trained on you with suspicion, a deep-seated trauma reflecting through them.

"(Y/n)—", Liam tried to coax your return out of fear that Shay in his current state may hurt you. But, your trust was deep for the younger man. Achilles held his arms out to prevent the others from following you.

"Cast that damned book into the ocean", you told him, unconcerned with the consequences that you may face from your mentors. You had to try. Extending your arm outwards with an open palm, you paid no mind to the sharp cold of your hot tears freezing against your skin. "But, don't take your life, Shay. Please step away from the edge. Please".

Whilst he knew your intentions were pure, Shay was unwilling to face the consequences that undoubtedly waited for him upon giving in to you. He would die with the manuscript and his beliefs held intact. He had to ensure that what happened in Lisbon or Haiti would not happen again.

"Take my hand, Shay", you begged, inching your steps to try to close the short distance between you. "Please".

"I'm sorry, (Y/n)", he murmured, your feet moving into a sprint far too late. A shot rang out, Shay's figure falling from the stone ledge whilst he attempted to jump.

"SHAY!!!", your throat burned with the wail that passed through it. You fell to your knees at the cliff's edge, spying only the rough seas, icebergs and sharp rocks below. Shay was gone, his image burned into every crevice of your mind.

Various cries tore from your lungs, two strong arms winding around your midsection to pull you from the dangers waiting below. Liam.

"He's gone, (Y/n)!!".

"NO!! NO!!", you shouted, the taller man turning you to be flush against his chest. You fought his touch, trying to break from the stronger hold he had upon you.

Your eyes were clouded and blurred with tears, barely able to spy the gentle kindness that sat within his own. Despite your flailing and blubbering, Liam held your face steady and attempted to hush you.

It all fell to tatters, however; when you spied smoke rising from the barrel of Chevalier's gun.

Shoving yourself from the Irishman's arms, you marched towards the Frenchman naught but a few feet away. "You killed him!! You bastard!!", you spat, Liam quick to pursue you once you gripped onto the older man. "It was you!! You bastard!!".

After landing a few hits against him, your hands were forcibly pulled from Chevalier's overcoat, the Frenchman grinding out his mutual distaste for you from between his forked teeth, "Va te faire enculer! Putain!!".

"(Y/n), stop!!", Liam yelled, Achilles nodding for your counterpart to bring you away from the situation at hand.

It was true; you loved Shay. At the best of times, he was a man who was rather hard to love. Rough around the edges, irresponsible, immature. But, he was lighthearted, humourous and easygoing.

Oftentimes, you were guilty of laughing at the colourful digs or arguments he made at your mentors, or the failed attempts he made to woo other women.

The one thing that set you from him was his inability to see you how you viewed him. He never loved you back. You knew.

You knew when he would gawk at Hope, you knew when he would ruffle your hair like a child or talk openly about other suitors. His heart never belonged to you. It was agony at times.

But, there was also Liam.

Kind, warm, supportive Liam.

Having known him from your youth, the bald Irishman had mentored both yourself and Shay thoughout your lives, despite not being much older than yourselves.

You would be lying if you said you weren't the slightest bit taken by him.

Liam's protectiveness and respectful nature both attracted you deeply. Always, he would await your say-so in marksman practice, hovering those strong hands above your own until he was certain that you were consensual to his guiding touch and whispers.

Even on his worst day, did Liam always have patience and words of encouragement for you. "Bluebird" and "my favourite marksman", were names for you that often tumbled merrily from his lips, leaving you frequently flushing hot beneath your skin.

Liam was a man easy to love and had always been there for you, consistently leaving you torn between your yearnings for both young Irishmen.

Now you were torn between something different entirely.

Steps crunching in the snow broke your focus from the icicles settling into the ground, a steaming beverage being offered to you within your peripheral. You spared only a glance at it before turning your gaze to the detailed ridges of the log on which you sat.

"If you're not going to eat, please drink something at the very least", Liam's familiar Irish brogue was mellowed down to a feathersoft gentleness that had your eyes gathering tears once more.

Your throat was tight, anxiety harping it's way into your pained heart.

You had to tell him.

With a quiver to your lip, you had only two words on your mind. The hardest two words you'd ever speak to him.

"I'm leaving". You regretted the words as soon as you'd spoken them, bracing yourself for the worst in the uneasy silence that fell between you both.

"You're what??", his voice was an astonished whisper. The disbelief in his tone and the way his words broke whilst he spoke them wounded the tethers of your already broken heart further. Your silence left him at a loss, a panic seeming to rise up within him. "What are you on about, (Y/n)?".

"The Brotherhood", you replied with an unusual amount of cold that had hurt flickering into those blue hues once you had the courage to meet them. "Between leaving and staying, I'm torn. We've lost our way, Liam. I see that now".

Despite the words of argument that threatened to boil over from within him, Liam kept himself composed and listened intently when you continued,

"We are not what we were before. We've become desperate. So much so, that now we resort to destroying cities to gain even a slither of power. And I want no part in it".

"(Y/n)—", the Irishman gaped. "You cannot just leave the Brotherhood! You swore an oath to the Creed! To save the world, don't you remember??".

"And I suppose you're going to stop me, Liam?", you challenged, standing to match his height. The fury and hurt that poured through your eyes was carried from the very depths of your soul and couldn't be masked from him.

"That's the second time you've underestimated me tonight", he murmured, his surity meeting to combat your resolve perfectly.

"Are you going to kill me too?? Like Chevalier—". You choked up before the words could leave you, your eyes drifting from Liam to the fading lights of the Homestead in the distance.

"No", his head shook, gathering your unyeilding stare once more. "But, if you think for a second that I'll let you leave without a fight, (Y/n); you are sorely mistaken".

A sigh that stilled his inner rage passed through his nostrils, Liam's ocean blues travelling the features of your face with a kind softness. "Shay wasn't in his right mind and neither are you right at this very moment! You're making a mistake, (Y/n)! You're a good person. The Brotherhood needs you!". You marked the apprehension in his demeanour when his voice cracked with the words that followed. "I need you".

For a moment, you were in a state of disbelief of your own. Never had Liam shown this kind of vulnerability to you, always poising himself to be the strong and independent mentor the Brotherhood needed. That you needed. Yet, not even that could make him falter now.

"I know that you are grieving over, Shay. But, I've also lost a person I care about tonight!", the Irishman insisted, your keen eyes able to spy the tears welling up within his own. "And I'll be damned if I'm losing another!".

"Liam—", you started, only to have him cut in,

"I love you, alright?!". Just like that, his words completely melted your resolve. Stunned from the confession, your gaze searched Liam's for the chance that he was being dishonest or that you may have misheard him. You found neither.

"I love you", he repeated softer this time. The gentle brushing of his hand hovering by your own set goosebumps ablaze within your skin, drawing your gaze to the hope glimmering in the soft blue of his eyes. "I've always loved you, (Y/n). Perhaps, even before I knew what love was".

For the briefest of seconds, you became sharply aware of the details within Liam's gentle complexion and the misting of his breaths in the air; realising you were a heartbeat's distance from him. "If you stay, I know that we can make the Brotherhood a better place. Together". His hand was open to you, restraining from holding your own despite his constant urge to offer you solace. "What do you say??".

With your words dying in your throat, you reached for the nape of his neck, tugging his head forwards to seal the short gap between you both. Liam's breaths stammered within his chest, his lips flushed with a warmth that felt searing against your cooler skin.

His calloused hands pulled you to be cradled against him, your own bracing on the broadness of his chest. Every brush of his lips was a delicate caress, tasting of the salt from the tears you both had wept. Your heated breaths mingled in your concentrated passion, the Irishman reluctant to lose your touch.

Weaving his fingers with your own, Liam finally drew back to rest his forehead against yours, seemingly breathless. There was a rasp in his voice when he laughed, mumbling, "I'll take that as a yes".

"Good". Pressing another brief kiss to the Irishman's now swollen lips, a laugh to mirror his own slipped from you, "Because I love you too". Both of you marked it as perhaps your shared first steps to healing from Shay's death. Together.

The End. . .

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Hey readers!! ❤❤ I hope you all enjoyed this fic!! As always, any and all feedback is welcome! So, please - let me know how I went in writing this and how to improve, if I can! If you wished to be added to my taglist for this fandom or any others I write for, check out my masterlist and let me know what you'd like to be tagged in!

Thank you all for your support!! ❤❤

__________________________________________

Translations;

- "Va te faire enculer!! Putain!!" (French) = "Fuck you!! Whore!!" (English translation based on research - PLEASE correct me if I'm wrong)

[gaycragula]

Request Info

Fandoms I am currently in/will write for

Overwatch Will write for everyone, see the only stipulations below Tracer/Pharah- Platonic unless reader is gender neutral Winston/Hammond/Orisa- Platonic only

Mortal Kombat I've only played MK1 and MK11 so it's limited to those two games

Assassin's Creed AC 3 AC Black Flag AC Rogue AC Unity AC Syndicate AC Origins AC Odyssey

Fandoms I am not in but will still write for if requested

Call of Duty Modern Warfare

Horror Icons/movies Ask!

Feel free to ask if I'll write for a game/show/movie/etc!!

I will write

FtM!Reader M!Reader GN!Reader Char x Reader x Char Char x Reader Polyamorous relationship Fluff Smut Angst i don't think im very good at it though Ask about any kinks if you're curious!

I will NOT write

F!Reader SA/Non-con Scat Pregnancy Yandere Over the top feet stuff Char x Char

I will reject the request if I am not comfortable writing it ^^

Account Navigation

[strwbmei]

Hi Mei, i suddently had an idea for a request. Theresa Apocalypse X reader (Gender neutral) fluff headcanons in where the reader's body is covered in scars also on their lip (Kinda like toji from jujutsu kaisen or ezio from assassin's creed). It's mostly comfort and fluff, it could be platonic or romantic since tecnically Theresa is an adult. If you feel uncomfortable by this, please ignore it

I don't write for Theresa unfortunately, but I think she'd be the type to think your scars are cool instead of being worried about them. Though, if you're a normal civilian or someone who isn't really supposed to be fighting, she'd definitely be a bit concerned. Theresa grew up surrounded by Valkyries, so to her, scars are a sign of strength and a victorious battle and she'd gladly tell you that if you felt insecure about them.

[turtlesaph]

Writing Prompts/Requests/RP

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!

Hello! Welcome to my listy! My rules are relatively simple. I don't do smut, kinks, incest, degrading matters, super sexual or sexualized content, multiverses or crossovers. I try to stick to the universe of the character personally. I will do platonic or romantic connections. I work a fulltime job so please be patient if I don't immediately respond.

I'm a story driven person so I love adventure, angst, fantasy, comedy, trauma/drama and some fluff. I do requests and/or RP (RP sticks to Discord). So feel free to ask me anything or request anything! Please share your thoughts, feelings, conspiracies, theories, head-canons and anything else related to the characters I write for!

CANON CHARACTERS I WRITE FOR::

Albert Wesker (Resident Evil)

Claire Redfield (Resident Evil)

Sesshomaru (Inuyasha/Yashahime)

Naraku (Inuyasha)

Toga (Inuyasha)

Kirinmaru (Inuyasha/Yashahime)

Slade (Teen Titans)

Jace Beleren (Magic The Gathering)

Darth Vader/Anakin (Star Wars)

Alex Mercer (Prototype)

Haytham Kenway (Assassin's Creed lll/Rogue)

Ganondorf (Legend of Zelda)

Rauru (Legend of Zelda)

Volga (Legend of Zelda)

Twinrova: Koume & Kotake (Legend of Zelda)

Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel)

Lilith (Hazbin Hotel)

Vecna/001-One/Henry Creel (Stranger Things)

Niklaus Mikaelson (Vampire Diaries/The Originals)

Caroline Forbes (Vampire Diaries)

AVAILABLE ORIGINAL CHARACTERS I WRITE FOR::

Haleru (King Rauru's brother) [Legend of Zelda]

Alanis (Overlord Sinner fox) [Hazbin Hotel]

Laviel (Slade's Apprentice/antagonist) [Teen Titans]

Locus (Teen Titan/hero) [Teen Titans]

These lists will not include everyone I write for, just the ones off the top of my head.

MY DISCORD IS:: aschrach

(Posted with half of the tags, will do another with the rest)

[bansheeoftheforest]

Assassin's Creed Fanfic Masterlist

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This is where I keep all of my Assassin's Creed fanfiction! It will be updated as I (hopefully) progress with my amount of fanfiction for this fandom <3

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Ao3: @ Bansheeoftheforest

R = Relationships.

CW = Content Warning.

[Ranked from Newest to Oldest] ------------------------------------

Give Me Your Hand

When Basim's nightmares seep into his waken moments, Hytham does everything he can to help his mentor.

R: Hytham & Basim (platonic/non relationship fic but can still be read as a shipfic)

CW: Hallucinations/Mental breakdowns. Set pre-valhalla.

Tumblr / AO3

Crescent Moonlight

Basim and Hytham eat Iftar together, and Basim wishes that Hytham would stop overworking.

R: Hytham & Basim (platonic/non relationship fic but can still be read as a shipfic)

CW: Potential inaccuracies regarding religion.

Tumblr / AO3

Why You Should Never Let Your Teacher Drink

Basim decides to indulge their hosts and partakes in drinking. Hytham is left to deal with the aftermath. Shenanigans ensue.

R: Hytham / Basim

CW: Alcohol and innuendos. And, once more, probably OOC depictions.

Tumblr / AO3

A Leap (Into Your Arms)

After being left behind by his mentor for weeks, Hytham gets fed up and refuses to speak to him upon his return. Basim realizes that, above all, he doesn't want to lose his little eagle.

R: Hytham & Basim (can be read as both a platonic and romantic fic)

CW: Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Fluff. And also most likely OOC depictions and general inaccuracies.

Tumblr / AO3

Lingering Firelight

“I have to ask, Wolf-Kissed,” Hytham then spoke. “Do you treat all members of the Raven Clan so personally?” Eivor hummed slightly. “No, not everyone. Not like this.” Or, a mini oneshot of Eivor cleaning Hytham after a battle.

R: M!Evior / Hytham

CW: Canon typical violence and battle.

Tumblr / AO3

[hoshikuzuoverdrive]

rules/guidelines ⋆୨୧˚

general requesting rules ⋆

first things first, this is an 18+ blog. minors please do not interact. as well as this, ageless/blank blogs dni.

send requests through the askbox! anon is on :3

do not spam the inbox please, we have seen your request, we're working on it!

specify characters/what type of request

if for any reason we feel uncomfortable with a request, we will not write it.

writing rules ⋆

｡⋆ will write.- nsfw. character ships. top reader. dark content. light gore. fem/male/gn!reader. platonic. fluff. angst. basically anything lol!!

｡⋆ will not write.- incest. rpf. scat. extreme underage. age gap.

fandoms ⋆

twisted wonderland. ensemble stars. uta no prince-sama. persona. kingdom hearts. final fantasy. shin megami tensei. genshin impact. a3!. fire emblem. ace attorney. jjba. yakuza/rgg. the idolm@ster. resident evil. pokemon. guilty gear. tekken. overwatch. baldur's gate 3. assassin's creed. castlevania. twewy. hypnosis mic. nitro+chiral games.

｡⋆ thank you for reading!! request away :3

[muchbadassverywow]

I Can’t Breathe: Arno x reader

So after watching the first two POTC movies and realizing how much my asthma misses me, I try my hand at a oneshot. :) Feedback is appreciated.

Alignment: Platonic flangst.

You love Paris. Truly, you do. The sights, the buildings, the people (a select minority) all have places in your heart, so you were more than happy to hear that it wasn’t the brotherhood’s decision to assign you as Arno’s second for his mission, but the man himself.

“I could’ve sworn you forgot I was alive.” you announce your presence, coming up behind him on the rooftop he told you to meet. His head perks up at your voice, and he comes to hug you with a teasing smile of his own, “Hello to you too, Y/n.”

You hook your arms under his and cling your hands on his shoulders, pressing your face against his chest so he wouldn’t see how fast your smirk disappeared. Arno always has a scent or two lingering on him during missions like these, but this time, you couldn’t smell anything. It was your own way of making a contingency plan by locating where he had been, as well as a way to feel like home, but now you just felt lost. Even so, you didn’t want to worry him, which made you pull back after a moment with a bright smile, “So, what do we got?”

Arno fills you in on his findings, and you mentally scold yourself the whole time for having your attention divided between listening and breathing. More effort than what was probably necessary was put to not making the ragged patterns of your breathing audible, though doubt looms over your head towards your partner’s obliviousness. He could be acting.

“Remember, if any of the guards have suspicious containers on them, that is poisonous gas and you must get out of the area immediately.” he concludes, as your target walks out of an establishment, four guards ‘discreetly’ coming along with him.

You nonchalantly roll your e/c eyes, beginning to freerun across rooftops, “Remind me not to be away from you for too long. You get bossier than I prefer.”

“I’m just watching your back.” he gently defends, following you.

A smug smirk returns to your lips as you glance at him, keeping most of your attention on your target as he and the guards ride a carriage. “I know, and that’s what you’ll still be doing because I’m about to outrun you.” right when you said that, you bolted off, hearing the hooves of the horses on the cobblestone floor and the amused chuckles of your friend from behind.

Maybe being tired is the way to clear your lungs.

Eventually, your freerunning enjoyment came to a halt as the carriage of your target stopped at the dock. Arno and yourself overlook from a roof, before nodding to each other and unsheathing your Hidden Blades. Running with him only affected your breathing for the first few seconds, but then you began to pant again after a while. Alongside Arno, you leap down and assassinate some few guards from the back. One wanderer unfortunately spotted you, though, causing the two of you to use the Phantom Blades and hope that no one noticed his limp, bleeding body. He leads the way, and out of worry, you recheck your surroundings before tailing the target with him.

You scale a wall and effortlessly come up on the other, much darker side, in time to have the frightened man fall on his backside because of your sudden appearance. He looked really intimidated that you just had to take a moment and mentally thank your partner for the path he practically paved for you. With Eagle Vision, you see him in the shadows, nodding at you to make the kill. You stalked over the target until his back hit the wall and his face truly became a reflection of terror. You were just about to raise your Phantom Blade when something at the side of your face hissed, making you lose what composure you could muster as well as the coordination of your body. Vaguely aware that your target has become unconscious, you frantically move away from the poisonous gas, managing to see a distorted red outline when you squinted. You were only able to get yourself back to your feet with Arno’s help, and together, you shot the Templar in the legs.

The gas later disperses, and you absently recall information about a five-second time period of the gas when it leaves its container. You and Arno notice the face of your target, and tore your eyes away just as fast. When that simple motion constrained your breathing even further, you quickly scale up a wall in a panic, ignoring your friend’s calls as you make for the nearest safehouse. 

If Arno failed to get to you on time, would you have accompanied your own target in his death? How did that gas even affect the human body? How long will it take before you change the fact that your need for each other is not equally reciprocated? How close is the moment when Arno won’t be there for you, anyway? Right now, if your footing fails you and you forget how to regain it as you pummel to the ground? Right now, as you jump from rope to rope? Now, if you weren’t able to grab onto the ledge the moment you run out of roof to slide on? Now, when a Templar infiltrated the safe house you just went in and adorned the walls with your blood for him to find? 

 Quiet steps and a call of your name made you jump, unsheathing your sword towards the source; Arno. 

He raises his hands in both reassurance and surprise, watching you sheathe your weapon with slight embarrassment, “Please talk to me.“ 

 But no matter how hard you try, your body protested. You’ve already resigned yourself to the fact that what suspicions Arno must have (if he didn’t have them already) shall now be answered straightforwardly. But you couldn’t do that if you were fighting for every breath, now could you? 

 You lean on a nearby table, hands on the edges of the wood as your back hunches and audible sounds of pain escape your parted lips. As Arno steps closer, you shake your head, upset that your own body would be against having him near, “I-I can’t…” 

 “Where’s the wound? Or is it a cut? Perhaps it’s the poison…!” he began to inspect you for physical proof, a feat you swore you could’ve killed him for were it not for the respiratory handicap. If you die and he ate your cookie stash, you’ll haunt him until he joins you. 

Using what little force you can spare, you hold onto his hand tightly as he examines your arm. You lean on him, vaguely aware of his other hand hovering over your back, “Arno, I can’t…” you wheeze, “I can’t breathe.”

An actual cliffhanger, and could end in angst or fluff, now that I think about it.

[serotonincemetery]

Thatch("Blackbeard") + Reader (Platonic)

You loved it. You loved the ocean air hitting your face and flowing through your hair. The smell of the salty sea as you and Thatch sailed back to Havana for a few days to restock the ship. You watched as Havana came into view over the horizon, you could make out some of the shacks and as you got closer you could see the sand and the dock.

     Thatch brought the ship around and shouted a few orders about bringing in all sail and throwing down anchor. You immediately ran away from the wheel and started helping and shouting small orders, the crew nodded as they let you help and order them. You were Thatch's right hand-woman. And neither him or the crew looked at you differently for being a woman. They accepted you for who you were(plus if they didn't Thatch wouldn't take it too lightly) and they didn't look at you like you were one of those whores in the taverns. They didn't look at you like you were just a sex doll to be married off. They treated you like family and a part of the crew. They treated you properly.

     You finished helping dock the ship as everyone started getting off. You quickly ran back up to the helm and fixed the wheel so it was stable and wouldn't shift around the boat. As you were just finishing up you saw Thatch leaving the cabin. An idea sparked in your mind and you quickly finished and snuck around behind him.

     You took the one window that was offered and jumped on his back as he shrieked like a girl and stumbled forwards. You started to laugh as he soon caught his balance and started to laugh with you. Soon he shifted around and grabbed the back of your knees and continued walking with your arms around his neck. Both of you laughing and making jokes about Edward.

     Both of you reached the tavern while laughing up a storm. Everyone looked at both of you and smiled. Thatch walked in with you on his back and a huge grin on his face. You kept telling jokes about Edward and now Charles. The both of you kept telling them as you walked up to Edward, Benjamin, and Charles. You managed to tell your last joke before hearing and "OI!" and "HEY!" From Charles and Edward.

     Both you and Thatch laughed harder as he set you down and sat down. You went and sat at the edge of the table as Thatch's and your laughing calmed down. Soon enough all of you ordered pints and laughed, and joked, and drank to your heart's content. You loved being a pirate. It gave you a sense of freedom. And being among other pirates, specifically these ones, gave you the warm feeling of security. You felt safe.