#colonel monro

[cippicat]

Happy 10th Anniversary to AC Rogue

Assassin's creed Rogue was released 10 years ago.

You know my opinion on this game. I don't like it. It's uncomplete, with a lot of bugs, glitchs, and with a rusty fighting system.

The major flaw is the plot, along with the characters' development.

Ubisoft had 6 years to show us the other side of the coin, but they failed.

[drawn-twogether]

Happy Shay Patrick's Day! 🍀

I've been working on trying new art styles for more detailed drawings to try to challenge myself and I love drawing the different Assassin's Creed characters and I'm still really proud with how Shay turned out as he's probably my favorite character 😍

And even though bar crawls/hopping wasn't really a thing until the 1980s, you cannot tell me that Shay and Gist wouldn't plan a tavern crawl 🤣

--SciFiBeatlesGleek

[megantronusprime]

Look, I love Colonel Monro as much as the next person, but I do think that, while he does genuinely care about Shay, he does kinda show his hand at one specific moment as someone who is truly also trying to manipulate him to get a specific outcome.

It’s that line after Shay kills Hope and he kinda tells the Colonel in an indirect way that he’s having a moral crisis, and Monro says: “When I am issued new recruits burdened with regrets, I tell them the surest way to lose them… is with gunpowder.”

Like ??? No colonel what are you saying that’s terrible advice. I think it’s right here that you can tell the Colonel is basically saying, “hm? Oh man, that’s a bummer. Anyway, come along, my efficient killing machine.”

Like, you can make the argument that the Colonel has been through his own trauma by serving in the military that makes him have a “grin and bear it attitude,” plus it’s not like mental health was supported, but c’mon. A sensitive, kind man like Monro knows better. I understand he’s a Templar and they’re very black and white, but I feel like I could also imagine him sitting down and asking more questions of Shay and talking him through it

But idk, those are my thoughts. (Plus Shay following up with “You’re right, Colonel.” ??? No, babe, he’s not. You’re just severely traumatized.)

[bobabisch]

I think it is very interesting that the writers of RDR2 chose to have the Arthur become more involved with the storyline of the Native Americans at the time that they did.

I feel this for many reasons, but mainly because what Colonel Favours' destructive and insecure nature is doing to the native people directly mirrors what Dutch's own insecure and destructive nature is doing to the group. On the first mission Arthur does with Captain Monroe, the Captain tells him many things:

1) That Colonel Favours destructive/insecure/angry nature has corrupted his men, I quote, "There is a culture now in his [Colonel Favours] regiment, the rot has traveled down the trunk". The Captain is stating that the horrific ways the Colonel has been treating the native people has prompted his men to treat them the same. The rotting tree metaphor is easily applied to Arthur's current situation with Dutch and the group (at this specific time especially). After Molly's death the whole vibe of the camp becomes unstable and dreary; nearly everyone has been prone to anger, Arthur included. This attitude in the camp is not unlike the new personality Dutch has begun to show since he returned from Guarma. This corruption can also be seen particularly well in Micah--as he thrives in the chaos in the camp and in Arthur's disintegrating relationship with Dutch--and in Bill's newfound anger/resentment with seemingly everything and everyone.

2) Captain Monroe tells Arthur "He [Colonel Favours] didn't have a very good war so he's trying to start another one." This one seems pretty much obvious, but as Arthur states during a few missions prior to this one (mainly the one with Eagle Flies and the mission where Dutch kills Cornwall) the past few heists/jobs have not gone well. Arthur significantly understates this; rather the last few heists/jobs have gone horribly, terribly wrong. All of Dutch's previous heists/jobs have led to death: I.e. Mac, Jenny, Sean, Hosea, Lenny, and Molly. It's clear Dutch has been feeling lost and inadequate since Blackwater and his recent failures and the recent deaths have only put more pressure on those insecurities, and with Micah in his ear those insecurities have only become more prevalent and dangerous.

3) Captain Monroe also tells Arthur "I think he's taking some of these actions more to protect himself now. If he can incite more retaliation maybe he can prove a stronger defense." Like Colonel Favours has decided to wage his own war with the native people in an attempt to alleviate his insecurities, so has Dutch decided to "wage war" as well, using the conflict with the native people and the army so he may "make noise" (as Dutch calls it) to reassure himself that his insecurities have not become reality. The more "noise" Dutch makes easier it is to claim he is defending the groups honor. Dutch uses people a lot, he used Angelo Bronte, he used the Grays, he used the Braithwaites, but the difference between Dutch using them and Dutch using Eagle Flies and the native people--as well as the army--is that he no longer does it for the reason's that he was doing it beforehand. With the former groups of people, Dutch truly was using them to help the group, to protect those he views as family.

Moreover the former groups of people were not good people in any way shape or form meanwhile the Native Americans are entirely blameless in this situation. "We help those who need helping, feed those who need feeding, and kill those who need killing." It's something Dutch says to Arthur on the very mission they take with Eagle Flies which puts not only the native people in a more precarious position than they were already in, but also makes the situation Dutch's gang are in more dangerous. Dutch has stuck by this motto for what seems like his whole life, but now even it has lost its meaning. He no longer helps those who need helping as he refused to rescue John Marston from being hanged, and he no longer kills those who need killing as he unnecessarily murdered Cornwall and actively urges the native people and the army to kill each other. In this light it is undeniable that just as Colonel Favours is prosecuting the Native Americans to save his reputation, Dutch has taken all of these new measures to save his own reputation and to placate his troubled mind.

4) Captain Monroe's final statement about Colonel Favours hits the hardest however, "A failed man is often the most dangerous." Arthur has come to know this as true, as he watches Dutch slowly descend further into madness, finding new enemies in anyone who is not his "yes man" and actively seeking out his old enemies who have wronged him so horribly in the past, all at the risk of the family which he claims he is trying to protect by doing all of this.

I think it is so clever of the writers this situation with the Native Americans play out as all this is happening with Dutch. Although Arthur probably does not fully understand the parallels, I'm sure being directly involved in such a similar situation helps Arthur to realize at least on some subconscious level just how far gone Dutch truly is.

[deadfileinthecabinet]

I know Crane is back but right now, I am obsessed with sexy Monro from Assassin’s Creed Rogue. Sorry Crane, another old man has my attention now.

[rogaire]

Thinking how Virgo became a constellation and reading how Astrea, the Greek goddes this sign’s associated with, was the last immortal to ever abandon Earth because she didn’t want to give up on the humans but was eventually forced to do so when she realized that they were beyond saving makes me think how this relates to Shay considering that Virgo is his sun sign and how it takes a lot for him to turn his back on someone, unlike people think.

[cippicat]

The fandom named Shay's son "Liam Monro Cormac", after his best friend and his mentor.

That's a real stupid name

tbh I kept crying that whole morning when I woke up and heard the news from my friend. My precious Shay became a grandpa. However since the story took place in 1863,  I guess he didn’t have much time with his grandson Cudgel Cormac.

But hey, how about a father and his son?

[obessedwithfictionalmen]

Who did this to you?

Buck Cleven X Nurse! Reader

Summary: When a patient attack Buck's girl, he's worried about his girl.

Warning: violence/ blood/ use of Y/n/ choking/

Word count: 800 words.

Buck and Y/n were together, but they didn’t like to show it in public. Sometimes, at dances for example, they would dance together, but that was it. Since she was a nurse and he was a pilot, they were really busy all the time. Especially today, the 100th just came back from a bloody mission and Y/n had patient to treat. She was assigned on Edward Monroe’s case. He had pieces of flak in his leg, and he hit his head, so he was unconscious. The pieces were easy to remove, he had 4 big part and multiple small ones. Since he was unconscious, it was fast. But what Y/n didn’t know, was that the man was starting to wake up. Edward was afraid, he didn’t know where he was, and it made him panic.

The door flew open, and the men looked at the nurse that entered the room. She was in shock. ‘’Help, something happened’’ she panted. Buck and Bucky were the first one to get up. ‘’What happened?’’ Colonel Harding asked the nurse. ‘’A patient attacked Y/n, and we can’t get him off her’’ she said. As soon as the name of his girlfriend was mentioned, Buck started to run. When he entered the medical center, he saw the military police with a man, it was pure chaos. Bucky arrived a little bit after and went to talk to the M. P’S, Buck was looking for his girlfriend. ‘’Laura? Where’s Y/n?’’ he asked a nurse. She pointed to a small room; it was a big storage closet. He walked towards it, hoping his girl was okay. When he opened the door, he saw Y/n. Blood dripping from her nose, her eyes were filled with blood since the man choked her so hard. She had bruises on her neck, you could see his hands printed on her neck. When she looked at him, her heart sank.

‘’Oh, my darling, are you okay? What happened, who did this to you?’’ he kneeled in front of her. When she tried to talk, nothing came out, only raspy breaths. He had bruised her vocal cords. She took a piece of paper and wrote on it. ‘I’m better now that you’re here. Edward Monroe attacked me; he was unconscious and then he jumped at my throat.’ When Buck read this, his heart broke a little, but his fist clenched, that son of a bitch hurt his girl. Bucky came behind his friend, he jumped a little when he saw the state of Y/n. ‘’They’re going to arrest him for assault’’ he said. Y/n shook her head, trying to talk, but it was useless. She quickly wrote on another sheet of paper. ‘No! He was just scared. He didn’t mean to hurt me!’ Buck smiled when he read this. She was always so thoughtful and caring. ‘’Y/n, he almost killed you, he deserves it’’ Bucky said. Even though it pained her to admit it, he was right. She simply nodded as she got up, with the help of the two men. ‘’Here, I’ll take care of you’’ Buck said, walking towards an empty room filled with medical stuff. She sat on the bed as he opened the cabinets to take what he needed.

‘’Okay, try to talk, slowly’’ he said, gently holding her neck. She took a deep breath before trying to talk. ‘’Hi’’ her voice was raspy and breathy. ‘’My name is Y/n’’ she continued, still with her shaky, raspy voice. He encouraged her with a smile and small nods. ‘’It hurts’’ she whispered. ‘’I know, darling. You’re really brave. Don’t push yourself too much. We know you can talk, I’m proud of you’’ he said. She smiled and hugged him. She wanted to tell him how she was grateful for him and she wanted to thank him, but her voice didn’t allow it.

‘’You look better’’ Bucky sat on the couch as the couple smiled. ‘’Yeah, my voice is still sore’’ she said with a raspy voice. Her voice sounded like the voice you have after a cold. It was really better, but still it was painful for her to talk. ‘’Still, your eyes are less scary’’ he laughed. Y/n chuckled and looked at Buck, she smiled to him and took a sip of her drink. ‘’I’m happy to see her pretty eyes again’’ Buck confessed. Bucky smiled; he was happy to see his best friend happy with a woman.

[cippicat]

They found an agreement

@shaycormac-templar Liam doesn't seem impressed XD

Credit to @pluma-azurea

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

1964 Mistral Spyder

Diana Dors bought the brand new Mistral Spyder in 1964 when she saw it at Earls Court Motorshow while in the throes of bankruptcy.

In 1964, the Maserati range was at its most diverse, with the Mistral and Quattroporte joining the Sebring, 3500 GT, and 3500 GT Spyder. Maserati was building upon the success of the 3500 GT and Sebring when it commissioned Pietro Frua to design a new body to be placed upon an updated Tipo 109 chassis. The new two-seat coupé was named “Mistral”, after the strong winds blowing from the Mediterranean coast in the south of France, at the suggestion of Colonel John Simone, the French Maserati importer. The Mistral was sold directly from the Motor Show stand to its first owner, Diana Dors, the English screen icon frequently known as the “English Marilyn Monroe”. She is said to have fallen in love with the car after seeing it first-hand at the motor show. Dors, one of the earliest English stars to court the press, and gain notoriety in the process, was famously the youngest person to own a Rolls-Royce, despite the fact that she was not even old enough to drive at the time

With a 3.7-litre engine developing 255bhp, the Italian sports car was capable of 0-60mph in just 6.2 seconds with a top speed of 160mph.

[s0larine]

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...

© solarine. i do not allow my works to be copied, translated, modified, adapted or published on other platforms without my permission. thank you for your attention.

dividers by @/thecutestgrotto

[marvelmaniac715]

I’m currently in the process of writing all six chapters of a new Hatchetfield fic (finished chapter three this morning) because I want to upload all six chapters together. It’s called ‘A Little Eldritch’, and it’s a collection of short one shots that are snapshots of the childhoods of Linda Murray/Monroe, Paul Matthews, Theodore Spankoffski, William ‘Bill’ Woodward and Hannah Foster, and how the eldritch abilities of the gods they’re tied to manifested in their childhoods. To give you a taster of this fic, here’s the entirety of the first chapter, the Prologue, straight from the PEIP archives:

Item #1086 from the PEIP Archives

Date of Creation: 1820s

Creator of Item: Willabella Muckwab

Item Retrieved From: The Old Waylon Place

Previous Owners: The Waylon Family/The Church of the Starry Children

Item: Excerpt from the Black Book which reads as follows:

And thus our esteemed gods shalt claim six mortals of powerful blood as their own, to toy with and control. Therefore their will shalt be done by the half eldritch puppets, more apparent in their youth yet masked by the wearisome indifference of their elder years. If not contained in their childhoods, Hatchetfield shall surely be reduced to ash and fire and blood, and lo our gods shalt rejoice! Praise be to our Lords in Black and Webbine Y’Weave, our Lady in White! 

————————————————————

Case File 98

Compiled By: Colonel Schaffer

Subject Matter: The young prophets of the six eldritch gods

Prophet #1 Linda Murray:

Prophet of: Wiggog Y’Wrath and Nibblenephim (it has not been confirmed as the girl shows evidence of both gods as her patron)

Evidence of Eldritch Involvement: Unnatural levels of hunger/greed and witness reports of shadowy tentacles emerging from the child’s sides when she is angered

Temperament: A spoiled, selfish yet clever child prone to fits of rage if she is not appeased, disliked by her widowed father, a lonely childhood starved of love could explain her behaviour

Danger Level: 5/10 (Linda Murray is, thankfully, an easy enough child to appease if you have access to wealth, all studies conclude that she is not much of a threat for our organisation or the world at large)

Prophet #2 Paul Matthews:

Prophet of: Pokotho

Evidence of Eldritch Involvement: Glowing blue eyes when emotions are heightened, a powerful reaction to music of any kind (the boy will stand to attention, tears in his eyes when he hears music, specifically musical theatre, but reportedly finds music of any kind ‘uncomfortable’ to listen to), and an over eagerness from those around him to obey him (particularly when his eyes glow)

Temperament: A calm, level headed child who wishes only for the happiness of those around him, seems to despise the powers and great loves of his patron

Danger Level: 8/10 (As General MacNamara says, the quiet ones are the ones to look out for - according to all studies, the boy is the most likely to be dangerous if he ever does lose his temper)

Prophet #3 Theodore Spankoffski

Prophet of: T’noy Karaxis

Evidence of Eldritch Involvement: The boy evidently possesses the ability to stop and manipulate time (those who spend time with him report to their minds feeling ‘fuzzy’ after they have displeased him, and indicate that they’re struggling to recall the exact amount of time that passed during interactions with the child)

Temperament: Theodore Spankoffski appears to be a kind child (more cruelly referred to as a ‘pushover’) but it has been observed that there is a darker side to his nature that only presents itself if he is threatened or intimidated in any way (the only times when his abilities manifest are during moments of high stress and fear such as bullying)

Danger Level: 1/10 (We have nothing to fear or expect from the Spankoffski child - he is most likely a plaything as opposed to a prophet)

Prophet #4 William ‘Bill’ Woodward 

Prophet of: Bliklotep

Evidence of Eldritch Involvement: A hyper intense focus on anything that he watches and a mild ability to manipulate events to produce a satisfying outcome (rarely used - the boy is mostly ordinary) and a keen attention to detail (explained away as a photographic memory, like with Bliklotep’s other prophets/playthings)

Temperament: An unassuming child who only drew our organisation’s attention due to his photographic memory and (according to teachers) ‘intense, frightening stare’ 

Danger Level: 3/10 (Bliklotep is not a powerful Lord, his chosen human representatives never lead to any major problems for the world at large - keep an eye on the boy but don’t prioritise him)

————————————————————

Case file 98

Compiled By: Colonel Schaffer

Subject Matter: The young prophets of the six eldritch gods

Updated On: 12th July 2009

Prophet #6 Hannah Foster

Prophet of: Webbine Y’Weave

Evidence of Eldritch Involvement: Hannah Foster has the ability to see into other timelines and frequently communicates with the Queen in White Webbine Y’Weave, becoming aware of prophecies (this knowledge was directly provided to us by the goddess who is beginning to work more closely with our organisation to ensure the safety of her young prophet) and to a casual observer the girl appears ‘haunted’ by something that only she can see (the Queen in White appears to her as an ‘imaginary [giant white] spider from space’)

Temperament: A gentle child who appears to be traumatised by her visions but has normalised her supernatural patron as merely a friend - lacks trust for most people and can only be convinced to cooperate by the Queen in White, an older acquaintance named Ethan Green, and her older sister/sole caregiver Alexandra ‘Lex’ Foster

Danger Level: 0/10 (Her patron supports us, so her prophet is not a cause for concern - in fact she may prove useful with her visions in the future)

[whencyclopedia]

Battle of the River Raisin

The Battle of the River Raisin (18-23 January 1813), also known as the Battle of Frenchtown or the River Raisin Massacre, was a significant engagement in the War of 1812. It saw the defeat of a US army at Frenchtown (modern-day Monroe, Michigan) along the River Raisin, and the subsequent massacre of some of the surrendered US soldiers.

River Raisin Massacre Monument

Notorious4life (Public Domain)

Background

On 16 August 1812, less than two months after the initial declaration of war, the United States suffered a humiliating defeat when the strategic outpost of Fort Detroit fell. Brigadier General William Hull, in command of the fort and its 2,500 defenders, had been terrified by the Native American warriors marching alongside the British troops; convinced that the Native warriors would massacre his men if the fort fell to an assault, Hull decided to surrender without a fight. While this may have saved the lives of his men, Hull's surrender cost the US control of the Michigan Territory, as British Lt. Colonel Henry Procter could now use Detroit as a base from which to expand his influence in the region. Even worse from a US perspective, the Siege of Detroit had encouraged more Native American nations to side with the British, hoping to recover the lands they had lost to the US in the Treaty of Greenville (1795). The recapture of Detroit was therefore a high priority for President James Madison and his administration, who entrusted the task to Major General William Henry Harrison, the popular hero of the Battle of Tippecanoe.

Harrison was placed in command of the reconstituted Army of the Northwest, which was largely made up of volunteers from the frontier state of Kentucky. These frontiersmen were despised by the British, who regarded them as half-wild 'savages' who lived on the fringes of civilization. "The Kentucky men are wretches," wrote one British officer, "suborned by the Government and capable of the greatest villainies… the most barbarous, illiterate beings in America" (Taylor, 208). Rowdy, resourceful, and quarrelsome, the Kentuckians were known to be clean shots and dirty fighters – in a Kentucky scrap, biting, scratching, and gouging were all considered fair play. They were hated and feared by the local Native Americans, who called them 'Big Knives' in reference to the long scalping knives the Kentuckians often wore on their belts. Decades of bad blood existed between the northwestern Native Americans and the Kentucky frontiersmen, with each group harboring painful memories of raids, killings, and mutilations committed by the other.

After taking command on 2 October 1812, Harrison decided to split his army into two columns. The leftmost column, under his second-in-command Brigadier General James Winchester, would push north along the Maumee River, while Harrison led the righthand column himself, advancing along the Upper Sandusky. The plan was for each column to reconvene at the Maumee Rapids near Lake Erie, to prepare for the final push to Fort Detroit. The going, however, was rough. Hindered by bad weather, low on supplies, and faced with the ever-present threat of a Native American ambush, each column made painfully slow progress. The situation worsened in late November when winter rapidly set in; one soldier, Kentucky rifleman William Atherton, would bleakly write that there was nothing "but hunger and cold and nakedness staring us in the face" (quoted in Berton, 291).

Harrison's column lost many horses to exhaustion in the effort to pull their cannons to the Upper Sandusky, forcing him to abandon several wagons loaded with previous supplies. At the same time, Winchester's column, which had barely begun its crawl up the Maumee, was forced to wait near Fort Defiance for fresh supplies. Poor sanitation and drainage in Winchester's camp soon led the men to be ravaged by disease; hundreds fell sick, with several men dying each day. "Our sufferings at this place have been greater than if we had been in a severe battle," wrote one soldier, "more than one hundred lives…lost owing to our bad accommodations! The sufferings of about three hundred sick at a time, who are exposed to the cold ground and deprived of every nourishment are sufficient proofs of our wretched condition!" (quoted in Berton, 292).

Brigadier General James Winchester

Ralph Eleaser Whiteside Earl (Public Domain)

By late-December, it had become frustratingly clear that no attempt to retake Detroit could take place before spring. Still, Harrison ordered Winchester to complete his march to the Maumee Rapids so that the army would be in position to strike when the time was right; Harrison, a few days behind, promised he would meet him there. On 30 December, Winchester's column set out on the final leg of its dismal march – most of his men lacked coats or adequate shoes and were forced to suffer through the winter elements in the tattered cotton shirts and pants they had been wearing since August. When Winchester reached the Maumee Rapids on 11 January 1813, his men were exhausted but not demoralized. Most of them were Kentucky volunteers, whose six-month enlistments were about to expire but who wanted a taste of combat before going home, to make the previous weeks of suffering worth it.

Continue reading...

[segfaulteddreams]

Colonel Buster Monroe was never in charge of the missile base, Steve. It was all just a bad dream...

Colonel Monroe's been dead for years, you need to get over it 😢

[rogaire]

TAG DUMP ( 3 / 4 )

IC TAGS RELATIONS - Templars

[the-unspeakable-tsar]

Superhero Timeline.

10th Millennium

First appearance of humans. Some super powered. 

Proto Avengers (heavily altered humans, primordial gods, and mutant). Celestial tampering happens on countless planets. (Tamaranians, Skrulls, Kree, Eternals, etc) causing multiple humanoid aliens to exist.

Myths concerning “Elders of The Universe” and proto-tangible beings are formed by early life.

Vandal Savage, Immortal Man, Anthro, King Kull, Kyra Arg, Gnarrk. Hippolyta (first life).

Grak (neanderthal politician)

Cotati, Kree, and Skrulls discover eachother.

Atlantis forms.

“Ulysses” Bloodstone

50,000 B.C.E (Thurian Age)

Inhumans created by Kree scientists. 

King of Atlantis, Kull.

Doctor Mist.

Darkhold creates some of the first vampires.

Atlantis and Lemuria Sink.

Amazon Race born.

Selene Born.

Hyperborian Age.

Conan

Kulan Gath

Red Sonja

753, 785- BEC

Ancient Greece

Ancient Rome

Golden Gladiator

Alpha Centurion.

Rome forms a colony in South America. Nova Roma.

Rama Tut

En Sabbah Nur was born.

Wizard Shazam empowers Teth Adam.

Mad Pharaoh discovers an alien Scarab and claims to have created it.

6th Century

One of the Camelots (for there are many and they are nebulous)

Etrigan

Merlin (Merlyn)

Arthur

Shining Knight

Silent Knight

Black Knight (Sir Percy of Scandia)

Mordred the Mystic (not arthur’s mordred)

Earth was briefly invaded by Klyntar. 

New Genesis and Apokolips forms, set in a higher plane of dimension.

7th Century

Tang Dynasty was contacted by aliens the likes of Fin Fang Foom. They take advantage of their advanced technology

Jong Li Green Lantern

Viking Prince

8th Century

Brotherhood of the Shield was formed in 750.

9th Century

Diablo (Estaban De Ablo).

12th century

Crusades, the mutant Bennet Du Paris meets Eobar Garrington and clan akkaba.

Belasco born at the tail end of the century.

14th Century

Mutants immune to the black page die in the sea.

X’Hal ascends to godhood.

15th Century

Intelligent gorillas form Gorilla City.

Manhunters deviate from original programming.

Zemo barony formed

16th Century

The Black Pirate

Andrew Bennet becomes a vampire.

17th Century

Gotham City founded

Romeyn Falls founded

Metropolis founded.

1700s-1800s

Tomahawk

Uncle Sam

Frankenstein Monsters

Jonah Hex

Atlas City formed.

Hellfire Club formed

Trigger Twins

Rawhide Kid

Carter Slade

Red Wolf

“Firehair”

Irene Adler and Raven Darkholme

Sherlock Frankenstein

1859 Nathaniel Essex begins experimenting on Mutants.

1882 Wolverine Born

1900-1920s

Morpheus Imprisoned.

Tom Strong born

Balloon Buster

Mister Cakewalk

Jazzbaby

Enemy Ace

Freedom’s Five

Cult of Blood formed in Zandia

Krypton destroyed

Kal El Lands in Kansas

Doc Steele, Tazara, The Crimson Fist

Ghost Hunter, Baron Von Fang

1930s - World War 2 

Batman appears

Superman first appears

Wonder Woman appears

Captain Marvel (Billy Batson) appears.

Invaders. Captain America 1-3

Based on Project Rebirth, Vought develops Compound V, empowering Soldier Boy. Germany empowers Stormfront using a duplicate.

Justice Society of America was formed.

Seven Soldiers of Victory

Freedom Fighters

Liberty Squadron

Black Hammer Squadron

Doctor Star

Abraham Slam

Sgt Rock

Sgt Fury and the Howling Commandos

Haunted Tank

GI Robot

The Losers

Albrecht Strong born.

Magneto

Charles Xavier

Golden Gail (spawn of a shazam protege)

1950s (Silver Age Beginning)

Billionaire Oliver Queen is stranded on an island.

Hal Jordan inducted into the Green Lantern Corps

Astro-Naut dies and Astro City is named after him.

William Burnside and Jack Monroe become Captain America and Bucky.

Hero Licensing Agencies were formed in Japan, one of the first being formed by Dragon King. “Former” villain of the JSA and Acrobat.

J’onn Jonnz teleported to Earth.

Barbalien, a contemporary of J’onn’s arrives on Earth.

Colonel Weird.

1960s

Peter Parker was Bitten by a radioactive spider

Blue Beetle (Ted Kord)

The Confessor

The Midnight Mink and Chippy (Short lived Batman inspired criminal)

Jessica Jones falls into a coma.

The Question

Fantastic Four

Challengers of the Unknown

First Family

Max O'Millions

Suicide Squad.

The Flash (Barry Allen)

Black Canary II

JLA formed

Teen Titans formed

X-Men founded

Captain Marve (Mar-Vell)

John Stewart Green Lantern

Avengers Formed

SHIELD

Black Rapier

1970s

Luke Cage.

Iron Fist (Danny Rand)

Shang Chi

Silver Agent framed and is executed

Outsiders

Glamorax

Putrid Punk

Black Lightning

Black Hammer I

JLI formed.

Aaron Aikman becomes a doctor and is murdered by Morlun.

Doom Patrol

Winged Victor

Original Batman Dies

Mister Unknown, inspired by Batman becomes a vigilante crimefighter in Japan.

1980s

Suicide Squad II

Checkmate

Spiral City is almost consumed by eldritch Anti-God.

Gangbuster

Daredevil

Nightingale and Songbird

All Might receives his Quirk.

The Samaritan prevents The Challenger Disaster.

Tesla Strong born.

1990s

Vought America begins to push its corporate superhumans. Their minds are twisted by Compound V. Vought refuses to seek alternatives.

Jon Kent, Cir-El Kent born. 

Christopher Kent adopted

Superman Dies.

Unteens (not super long-lived)

Hal Jordan goes evil and dies.

Kyle Rayner.

Spider-Girl

A-Next

Stormwatch

X-People

Skulldigger

First superhuman reality TV show, Youngblood.

They’re immediately met a year later by Vought’s onslaught of Superhuman reality TV shows.

2001-2019

Black Hammer II

The superhuman civil war in america.

Japanse Military creates Big Hero 6 in response to Hero Agencies.

The Super Young Team forms an act of social rebellion by the children of Japanese superheroes who reject the Hero Agency route while despising government work like Big Hero.

Little do they know, they are integral to humanity's further evolution into the super-world.

Peter Parker dies. Mantle was taken up by Miles Morales.

Skrulls invade earth.

Black Hammer II

Black Rapier retires

Jiro Osamu, the replacement for Mister Unknown becomes "The Batman of Japan"

Young Avengers Form

The Authority was formed after Skywatch and IO were exposed to the world

 Izuku Midorya receives the One-For-All quirk

The hero agency system in Japan has cracks forming and they’re big.

Green Door Opens.

Miss Marvel (Kamala Khan)

Multiverse opened up.

China formed the Justice League of China, followed by its very own Lantern Corps.

2020s

Izuku becomes a superhero once again.

Black Hammer II becomes a mother.

Miles Morales becomes a vampire.

Team Titans

First Krakoan age. Mutants who have been dead for decades return.

Hulkling unites Skrull and Kree to form a new galaxy-spanning empire.

2030s

JLA Beyond

Bishop Born (Good Timeline).

The Future State. Corporations begin to create private security to crack down on superhuman threats. Especially in light of corporate superhero projects repeatedly failing.

Superman’s dynasty ascends to the stars. 

2099

Corporations Dominate the World.

Age of Heroes is Over.

Spider-Man 2099

Avengers 2099

Franklin Richards ascends.

Superman’s Dynasty returns to Earth. It’s an ancestral land. It is in ruin.

Compound V-descended humans begin to activate their powers en masse but after 100 years of development, their minds can handle it.

30th Century

Legion of Superheroes

Centuries of Mutants, Compound V Descendants, Inhumans, Metahumans, and alien-influenced humans have fundamentally changed the definition of a baseline human.

Humanity is almost there. The rest of the universe is inching toward it too.

Golden Lantern

853rd Century

It’s a superhuman universe. 

The Justice Legion, influenced by their literal and metaphorical ancestors patrol all sections of the known universe.