#desmond miles x reader imagine

[thesharktanksdriver]

Blood's Thicker Than Water (Platonic)

Made this cause I love assassins creed and I hate how they left the plot point about Desmond having a kid from a one night stand. Like sure there’s a comic for Elijah but let’s be real, who here has read that comic?

Sorry if any of them seem out of character, I haven’t played the games in a long while lol

Also thanks to my friend for streaming the games so I can get back into them lol

You never really met your dad but from what your mother described him as he was….a troubled soul

Now to be fair you’ve never exactly met Desmond Miles yourself but from the stories she told it’s obvious he had his fair share of demons

Some of which seemed to spill from the cracks of his soul from the short time she spent with him

A bartender is what he was, until he suddenly up and vanished from said bar in 2012 and died not too long after

It didn’t really make sense then even to your young mind

The gap between his sudden disappearance and death leaving too much unsaid for your mind not to be annoyed by

But as a child you eventually put the thought away

Eventually you forget

Instead going on to pursue your next whim as you focus on the present, or in your case Learning about the past in the present time

Unlike your fascination with your father that went away, your love of history never faded with time

It just seemed to grow the older you got

Your not sure why but something about history just clicked with you

It was somewhere within the range of middle school and reading national geographic that you had realized you liked it

That despite how some areas of it were bleak and disturbing it was interesting

And it got even more so interesting as you delved deeper into the depths of libraries

Nose buried in books lined with dust and old parchment

Yellowed pages and old ink that you carefully decode from centuries of lost meaning and metaphors lost to the modern age

You studied from the ancients all the way up to Victorian

Easing your way though literal centuries of historical records as you soaked up information like a sponge

And it’s there you vegans seeing an odd…repetition of events that seemed to occur

Odd assassinations plagued each era you looked into, all of which connected somehow by people in odd dress

In some journals that had luckily stood the tests of time you uncovered more eye witness accounts

A solider’s log back in the revolutionary war talking about an odd man meeting with his superiors in the dead of night

The diary of a log master who wrote of an odd frequent visitor that had an odd blade hidden beneath his sleeve

The drawing of a Victorian child being freed from a factory that had a hooded lady and man on the rooftop

I’m one you found a symbol, one created from the bottom perspective of an eagle skull, something also commonly associated with these hooded figures

What’s odd as well is that with these hooded assassins you also find traces of another group

One well know to historians such as yourself

Oddly enough the symbol of the Templar knights keep showing up even after their annulment

It’s odd, but what’s more odd enough is that both seemed to be tied to other historical artifacts

Ones well kept in archives and from the public eye

Ones you shouldn’t technically know about if not for you sneaking into sections your don’t have the status to enter

Their always gold with odd symbols. Somehow always pristine and polished despite the fact their dated to be from before ancient times

They for some reason seem to call to you specifically

Tempting you with forbidden knowledge you wish to taste like Eve

But for now you choose to wait until you can do proper analysis on them without the risk of punishment

So you lie and wait

Admittedly you didn’t think anyone expected for you to be this good at your job

In their defence you were a university student here on Co-op and not an actual full time historian

Hell you were in first year for gods sake

But somehow despite it all

Despite the fact you had actual historians and people in the history program years above you here you quickly began to become an outlier

A shinning beacon within the large archive, so much so that you began being allowed in the restricted sections you already snuck into

Mind you, now properly allowed there with some supervision of sorts gave you much more flexibility in research

You got to touch these artifacts

Hold them in gloved palms as silk covered finger glide across its edges and ridges

You study them extensively decrypting and decoding the ancient texts and hieroglyphs

Jotting down what you found in both a report and your own personal journal

Your not sure why you do so but you chock it up to making sure no one takes credit for your work

And this continues to the point your eventually allowed alone with them

It’s great

You dedicate yourself to this task as you learn more and more

Soaking up knowledge like a sponge as you find out more of what was previously lost

Find new angles and perspectives on events

For history isn’t just a set time and date, it’s interpretation based on what we know from sources

And even then sources can be biased

Sources can lie and silence another person’s view on the event

Your more than happy to try make your own interpretations

Admittedly when you were asked to study what looked to be a necklace from these unidentified ancient artifacts you were ecstatic

How could you not be?

Intricate gold woven in something akin to Grecian jewelry

Yet also had hints of something akin to Egyptian

It also…glows? Or at least you swear you’ve seen it glow gold and pulsate a few times but that could be the sleep deprivation speaking

Either way it’s an honour

One you don’t take lightly as you study it

Spending countless restless nights and days trying to crack its code

An unknown source has been funding the archive and your research quite a bit

Betting big money on it much to your surprise and suspension

You get that this is potentially something big but it feels out of left field

Especially since no one knows the name of the company

It’s just under an anonymous donation every month

It’s sketchy

But you aren’t one to argue about free money to further your and your colleagues pursuit of knowledge

Not when this beautiful place used to be underfunded

Not when most historical records were donated by people with a good conscious

Not when this place was almost shut down

With a sigh you continue on your work

Diligently tact checking and writing up a storm

Your writing looks like chicken scratch but that was a commonality between all history majors

Well, along with being giant nerds

And it’s there at that desk at 3 am in the morning, tired and only running on 3 hours of rest you find something peculiar on the necklace

A sharp jaded edge that you absentmindedly prick yourself on by accident

With a groan you wipe the blood away on your pants

Then going up to get a bandaid

You swore to god if you died of tetanus you’d be positively pissed

Unknown to you the necklace starts to glow

When you get home your more exhausted than usual

Your limbs feel like their kade of concrete and your head is stuffed with tissue

Eyelids trying to glue themselves shut

You practically kick off your shoes before tumbling to the couch

Not bothering in changing clothes or showering for the sweet relief of sleeps embrace

So you flop down face first into the old leather cushions of your couch

Only putting in the effort of fishing a hand to grab a throw pillow and blanket from nearby that you burrowed yourself into

A comfy cocoon/prison you couldn’t will yourself to leave even as you swore for a moment you heard something in the house

But your mind writes it off

Your too tired to question anything let alone get up

All you want is sleep

And that’s exactly what you get as your eyelids shut

You fall into the realm of dreams, odd ones playing out in your mind

Blurred images of odd men

A weird void-like realm

The cries of an eagle overhead

A single word appearing in your head

Kenway

And then your eyes snap awake when the sound of arguing fills your ears

Yelling of several male voices jumbling up your already fogged up sense as you practically fall off the couch in a mixture of fear and confusion

Curses escaping your mouth when suddenly the voices go silent and your left in a realm of fear

Hair standing on end as the creaking of the house makes you more alert

Despite the fact you’d never fought a day in your life you will up the courage to grab a baseball bat and cautious cross to where you heard the commotion

Careful steps on the non-creaky boards of the home that you’d luckily memorized

And there you find several men in old garb

Accents of Red tying them together like a string of fate

Or a trail of blood fainting their very existence

they turn to you with sharp eyes

It’s the one in modern clothes that surprises you the most

The face of your supposed dead father staring back at you

Ocher brown eyes that had long lost their life now rejuvenated as they seem to find familiarity in your own features

Some of which mirror his own along with some of the others in the room

The bridge of your nose

A all powerful spark in your eyes as they flick between everyone and escape routes

The way your lip slightly twitches when you try to keep a brave face

Your posture as you decided what to do

It’s all too familiar to him and them in a way that isn’t just coincidence

Especially not when all of them are Kenway

Not when he had been able to prove to them that fact through the experience of virtually living through their lives up until his death

“I’m not sure who the fuck all of you are but get out of my house.” Your fingers twitch and flex as your palms grow sweaty, the wood absorbing the pressure and moisture “especially my dead dad look-alike”

You all but confirm his suspicions

Their suspicions

And it looks Ike for you tonight will be much longer than you anticipated

Turns out that artifact you were studying wasn’t just as normal one

Neither were the other ones you looked at

The way they explained it as was their “artifacts from dead gods”, a fallen civilization that engineered humanity into being their slaves

It’s a lot to take in

Even more so when your suspicions of something bigger happening throughout global history with those odd deaths were real

Oh, and these were you dead ancestors and dad somehow back from the grave and now in your home

…..yeah safe to say that’s a lot to take in after an already very long and tiring shift

You sit there as they explain this, half asleep, and half exasperated

Cause how the hell are you supposed to believe all this bullshit that for some reason feels correct

Something in you tells you that their right yet your mind is fighting that logic

You’d always been a logical person, when it came to most situations you used your brain instead of your heart

And in those cases things ended up fine

But now your faced with this

A situation where your heart is screaming for you to listen as your brain tries to take this all in

Cause logic is completely out the window at the moment

For now you have to trust them even if your still afraid

I mean, how couldn’t you be?

But you get the sense that they understand

At least a little bit by how their also thrusted into a new environment without much say

Perhaps that (along with your own apprehension) is helping comfort them as well

So for now they’ll stay

Your just thanking (the dead) gods that grandma and grandpa’s old home is big enough for all of them

Altaïr Ibn-La’ Ahad

The oldest down the line of your dad’s side of your lineage finds himself often reading through your books in your study

It was a bit of a surprise one day entering it to find him sitting in a spare chair but you don’t mind the silent company

Especially as he seems to find interest in your studies

Occasionally he breaks the silence and asks you a question about the subject he’s reading about

He’s by far the oldest (even if he’s back in the body of his prime) of them therefore he’s the one who has the most figuratively to catch up on

So you indulge him

And also asks questions as well that he seems eager in answering

Knowledge connects you both, scholarly intellect being the bridge between the two of you despite centuries of time apart

Typically he asks about thinks such as modern life and what is know about his home, what happened to it? What it’s known of his era

You answer as best you can

Especially since that era of time isn’t exactly your forte

But he appreciates it anyways

Appreciates that you try, appreciates that you passionately care about history in the first place

Admittedly your mom was supportive but never understood your love of history

She’d listen to your rants and long conversations with a polite smile but you knew she never understood what you were talking about

But he does

He does and contributes whole heartedly in just as much passion

It’s nice

What’s also nice is that he’s studied the artifacts you now study as well

So now your both constantly coming up and developing ideas together

A constant back and forth

Hypotheses, discussion, and testing

Delving deeper into discovery like you’ve wanted

But with this he also helps you see where passion and obsession mix together

After the loss of his wife and son he delved into studying as a form of escape

It drove who was left away

Made the pit in his heart deeper

He doesn’t talk about it often but he seems to see how you may go down the same path

And he warns you of it

Unlike his younger self (that he now appears as) he’s wise if a little rough around the edges

He encourages knowledge but not to the point where it’s an all encompassing and toxic obsession

Within the household he seems to take a somewhat neutral but quiet role

He helps out and offers advice and guidance

Much like a teacher and grandfather of sorts

Speaking up when he has to and making sure the house doesn’t end up in disrepair

He seems to have a fascination with modern appliances, or at least holds a thankfulness for them

Like a few others he sticks to his robes most the time but you’ve seen him sport more modern clothes once awhile

Stuff still somewhat reminiscent of what he wore before but with a modern flare. Things with hoods and draping. Silks and wool. Something with an accent of red mixed in

Sometimes when you fall asleep in your studies you find a blanket draped over you and a cup of tea at your side

He won’t admit it’s him but he’s the only one who knows your tea preferences

He keeps his worry for you deep down but it’s somewhat relived when seeing that you take his warning of not taking the pursuit of knowledge too far

“It says here there was something called the “French revolution”. Would you care to explain what happened here to me?” He asks making you pause your work for a moment, when he sees your smile he knows your answer. Sure he read some of this book and got the gist of it, but something about seeing your eyes light up at his inquiry makes him feel at peace for a moment.

“Would I ever!”

Ezio Auditore da Firenze

This man is quite literally all up in your (and everyone’s) business

Not in an annoy way per say but he’s definitely curious about the lives his descendants have led (both good and bad)

Ezio is very clearly a family man and it’s somewhat ironic to see since half of this household has some sort of familiar issue

Most of which is some sort of daddy issue stemming from either Haythem or Edward that trickled down the line to you

Something that Ezio is seemingly trying to wrap his head around

Out of the others he’s the one who opens up the most

Partially because you think he misses his immediate family and friends

It must be a lot to handle being away from home, now in a foreign land where everything has changed

Despite that though he keeps a brave face

Almost always flashing a smile as he drags you from your study to have some “bonding time”

You won’t admit it to his face but you don’t mind

Especially as he gives your poor hunched over back a break

And treats your pallet to some good old fashioned (literally) Italian food and not cup ramen once again

He tried it once and threw your supply out, saying he’d be supplementing you with food from now on

You can’t exactly say your disappointment or upset from the heaven that is fresh baked garlic bread and pasta

He cooks not only for you but for the others of the house as well, saying his sister taught him lest he piss off his future lady

Taking in their suggestions and cooking foods from their homes as a way of him offering comfort

Whilst he does these tasks he often hums in his mother tongue of Latin

You don’t have the heart to tell him it’s a dead language

Especially when he seems so happy that you can somewhat understand it

He’s happily rambling and teaching you words

Helping you sound out phrases and pronunciation correctly unlike your Latin professor

Some of his songs he lightly sings under his breath get stuck in your head since he has a good singing voice

But despite the facade you see the cracks

Sometimes you find him looking at modern objects mumbling about how Leonardo would have loved to see this or made something similar

Or how Claudia would’ve liked this book

How Petruccio would have loved this toy

It….leaves a bitter taste in your mouth

Once upon a time you felt this same type of longing for family

Once a time you thought of you dad before going to bed and staring at his old Polaroid with hope

One that would never come to fruition (until now)

It’s why you indulge him, to keep his mind off the deeper plunge of melancholy

Compared to the others he’s relatively open to modernizing

In fact he seems somewhat excited in these things

Raiding your wardrobe like a damn fashionista and critiquing what’s good quality

He also has a wide variety of looks, not sticking to something similar to his time of dress

Versatile and somehow up to date? Your not sure how but somehow he’s in fashion?

Like he must’ve found a copy of vogue or something cause there is no way he just guessed that this was the new trend

When you pressure him on it he replies that he’s simply that amazing

You call bullshit but have yet to find evidence

But in the meantime you ask get him to tell you about Da Vinci and you furiously jot down what he says

Sometimes when he looks at you he sees flashes of Claudia’s quick wit

It makes him long for home yet as he looks at his descendants and ancestor he also feels….something

A small pit of warmth developing as he gets to know the inhabitants of this house longer

Meet Altair besides through a weird vision

His home is in Florence yet that feeling of comfort from the Villa is bleeding into these old (yet new) walls

“So this painting is his most famous work?” He asks looking at your computer with a bit of confusion, his scared lips quirking at the digital image.

“Yeah. This is actually probably the most famous painting in the world”

“Really? Of all his works this one is considered the best? I’m not doubting his skill but of all his pieces?”

“Believe me, I get it. It’s only this famous cause it was stolen”

“Stolen?!? Tell me who did it! I swear-”

Edward Kenway

For someone who was a feared pirate on the seas he’s surprisingly much less violent than you’d think him to be

Sure, he’s scary as hell still but at least he’s not stabbing you in the back and making off with your grandmas pearls or something

Still your a bit unnerved by him considering you did a project on him back in middle school and he’s now in your home

Munching on some god damn biscuits as if this was a normal situation

His son Haytham avoids his as best he can but he seems to bond with his grandson quite easily

Or more easily than he does with Haythem

It takes some time but you eventually go to him when you find him awake at the dead hours of night

A whisky bottle in hands as he occasionally takes a swig in silence as he stares out the window

You don’t talk

You don’t need to when he drinks in silence for awhile staring at the moon before eventually talking about the guilt

In his pursuit of power and gold he let people die

Greed woven into his soul as he sacrificed good men for his cause

He changed and did good yet his past haunts him

Hands stained red

Guilt eating away

A son who doesn’t want anything to do with him

At some point when he stops his rambles you speak

Reminding him that while his actions weren’t good he changed

It doesn’t wash the blood away but it stoped more from staining his hands

Though Haythem avoids him Connor is more than eager to fill his place

It doesn’t fix his overlying problems but it does help

In the morning he ends up talking with you more after this as your initial fear melts away

You end up seeing Edward Kenway, not the fiercesome captain of the Jackdaw

You see a man burdened by past mistakes and still wishes to do better

You see a human being at its core

With history it’s easy to forget the people your looking at was once alive and a breathing being

One who was just as flawed as you and I

But seeing a infamous pirate captain cry about issues pertaining not just time him made you remember that

He isn’t opposed to modernizing but seems to keep a certain sea-like touch to his appearance

Clothes for labourers and something loose is what he normally sticks to

He’s lucky though since he doesn’t exactly have traditional robes and can incorporate what he appeared in with a modern flair

Occasionally when he gets drunk he slurs out old shanties and talks about his epic tales

You might or might not have freaked the fuck out learning that James kidd was actually a woman

Mind blown

Ezio and Altair had to drag you away from your computer from writing an entire essay

Sitting on your countertop he holds a glass of whiskey in hand, one held out for you as you sit down beside him. The moon casts its gentle rays and lights the marble slab you both sit on. “I prefer Rum but this’ll do” it’s said in a playful tone that makes you nod and take a sip.

“I can grab some captain Morgan later…speaking of which, did you know him?

“No, but I did find a few of his things laying about “

“Care to tell?”

“Aye, sure thing”

Haytham Kenway

As the only Templar in this house it’s safe to say he’s definitely the outlier of the bunch

A relative lone wolf from the group that all hold some sort of Ill feelings towards him

From his father its confusion and sadness

The others it’s a mix of that and anger

From Connor it’s just plain…well your not quite sure how to describe it

The two’s entire family situation is just plain messy and thick with tension that their blades could cut through

But here’s the thing, in this house your also an outlier

A neutral zone so to say

Hell, the entire house seemed to be a haven of sorts from their whole Templar vs Assassin conflict

To be honest you don’t really care about this secret war

Well that’s a lie you are interested in these war of secret societies but you don’t specifically care to get involved in their politics

Not when you have business in interfering in it unless a fight breaks out and your telling everyone to calm the fuck down

So safe to say your kinda the only one who talks to Haytham

He is…well sometimes he’s a bit of an ass (in the British type of way) but at the same time he’s good conversation

Specifically when it comes to that of morals and philosophical beliefs

He is a conflicted man

A flawed one

But he holds his beliefs and morals despite the fact he’s been hurt and betrayed by a man he viewed as a mentor

He doesn’t talk about it much but he’s still hurt

Still seething with venom that burns his soul and flesh

Makes him want to lash out despite his upperclassman appearance and attitude

That despite it all he loves his son, so much so he willingly walked into what would be his death knowingly

That despite what happened he loves his dad yet can’t face him yet on account of what he became

What ideals and morals he still believes in even now

It’s perhaps he’s venting this to you rather than a journal because he knows you won’t judge him unfairly on the basis of what side your own

Your judging him as a flawed man and as an equally flawed person

It’s with him as well you open up about your own frustrations

How you still don’t know how to feel about this all

The fact that a lot of what you once knew was flipped on it’s head

Along with the fact your not even sure how to address your dad

It’s an entire mess but perhaps your both messed up together and that also draws you both to talking

To discuss your feelings of insucurity and confliction

To feel comfort that your not alone in not having your emotional shit in order

On some especially…emotional nights you both both have a cup of tea

He seems to enjoy that each time you use a different type, much of which used to be hard to obtain due to shipping and it’s prices

He hasn’t really yet grasped modern technology but your slowly helping him with it

It’s kinda like trying to teach a grandpa to figure out a phone, but now it’s him with the concept of a microwave

Like some of the others he’s yet to really also change his clothes to something modern

There has been a few times though he sported sweaters and vests

Your now working on helping his wardrobe since he prefers a sophisticated look

Occasionally he looks at the photos that line your walls, looking as you evolve through the ages

It’s…odd

With Connor he never had the chance to watch him grow

Never a snapshot to immortalize what he was like a child but now ones of you litter the walls like paintings

He feels melancholy

Yet at the same time he’s happy to get another chance maybe

One that is seemingly being helped by your gentle hand unknowingly

“I never thought about it until now but the stars are different” he says taking a sip of his matcha tea, he lets it pool on his tongue and experience the flavour. Not his favourite but not the worst

“That’s cause of light pollution here…though the stars do move so it it’s possible they’ve shifted position in the sky”

“Do they teach you about the stars in your schooling?”

“Yeah I took some. Not sure why, it just kinda spoke to me. Maybe it’s the Kenway blood”

Ratonhnhaké:ton/Connor Kenway

Of the group Connor is the most quiet and surprisingly the one whom you connect with the best for some reason

Perhaps it’s cause your both socially awkward in ways that let you relate

Or the fact you’ve both been ostracized by society for various reasons

His company is that of a quiet one but one you accept it with ease as you both sit and enjoy each others company

A quiet kinship made of unspoken but understood words from one another

The reminder that someone else is there and your not truly alone

He is perhaps the one you feel you can understand the most

And it’s the same likewise for him

Your both people deeply hurt and still bleeding internally

People raised by only their mother in a cruel and harsh world

People who were let down one way or another by their father

People who are still mad and angry but use that to further their determination

It’s odd but you feel truly understood

Like your soul was peeled back to reveal at your core your still a lone spirit lost in the world

One clinging to what they know as their only lifeline in this confusing and jumbled mess of a situation

The hulking 6 foot 2 man shows you trails near your home

Taking to the forest paths you’ve know your entire life and helping you discover even more about them

And while he does this he teaches you more about the world as you both walk the old beaten path

He tells you how to identify what type of tree is which, which stones are likely geodes and what tracks belong to who

It’s honestly petty interesting especially since he adds snippets of stories from his heritage

In return you talk about what you know as well

Snippets of your own knowledge that he seems to store into his mind just as you do with his stories

An equal exchange of sorts

On these walks you begin to notice he takes you out on these when your at your most stressed

The times in which your mind is overworking and consuming itself with anxiety

The times in which you need to breath

Connor doesn’t seem like one to vocally express his care but he does so through action

Small inconspicuous actions that mean a lot more than what meets the eye

It’s seems that his towards you is helping you when you need it most

Taking you away to just take a moment for yourself

To just breath in the fresh air and let the sunset coloured leaves of autumn crunch under your boots

Letting the cold breeze take away your worries

It’s perhaps better than any type of verbal support

Yet another unspoken action of care and compassion through knowing and watching

Of watching and knowing when you need a break

When you realize this and give him a small tired smile as a thanks he seems to know

Only giving a small nod with a minuscule smile of his own

It only grows bigger when you begin to ask him if his traditions, of the stories and practices of his people that he’s more than willing to tell when he knows you ask out of genuine curiosity and respect

Connor is somewhat 50/50 in modernizing

He adapts quite well but still needs help with certain things as he navigates the situation

But like usual he is anything but resourceful as he watches what you do and figures it out

He helps the others quite a bit with what he’s picked up and somewhat takes pride in the fact he can help them

Whilst he’s privy to wearing his robes he isn’t against more modern clothes

The only problem though is sometimes finding stuff that fits him considering he’s not only a giant but also fairly muscular

But your both eventually able to find some stuff for him to wear that he likes

He really appreciates though that you try to buy clothes and jewelry from nearby indigenous peoples

It might not be his but he appreciates the sentiment and familiarity that the beaded jewelry give him

“I’ve lived here my whole life and walked down these paths a thousand times yet it seems more like your the local here” you say with amusement as you follow Conner through an area you’d be never been before.

He smiles, it’s small but there as he adds “just a matter of perspective. You see the paths your used to and I see ones you hadn’t noticed”

Desmond Miles

Yeah so this is entirely awkward for you

Like how the fuck do you emotionally deal with this and the fact your very dead dad who didn’t know you existed till now is now very alive

And living in your house with his very dead ancestors that are also now alive

Case and point you don’t, specifically you ignore the problem and act like everything is fine

You lock yourself away and try to avoid him like the plague

Somehow Scurry past him and into the kitchen to grab something before returning to your abode to eat

But then things got complicated

Things change

You began talking to the others

Slowly coming out the darkness of your study and joining the dinner table

But you still try to avoid him

It feels like the sight of him burns your mind, all those nights as a kid coming back to you

The hope and then disappoint in learning he died and that he likely never wanted you

Your mother never said this but the other kids did. They always teased and picked at the fact you were a mistake

It’s why you push so hard now to be the best, To prove them wrong (to prove to yourself that your worth existing)

The fact is that now he’s here and you don’t know how to deal with that

How would you even start?

What do you even say to him?

You quiet down when he enters a room because you don’t know what to do

Whatever your about to say dying in your throat like a caged bird and all that came come out are garbled noises as you evade him

Eyes casting down to your hands like a child averting their gaze from their parent when in trouble (he is your dad so it’s the same thing right?)

Leaving the room he’s in as quickly as you can once a take is done

The others notice quick, I mean how can’t they? A damn butter knife can cut through the tension

The whole thing with Haytham and Connor is less tense than this

But what can you even do?

How in thick do you talk to him and how can he even talk to you?

Your 18 and in university, he’s 25 and was a bartender in New York before apparently sacrificing himself for the world

He’s closer in age to being a big brother rather than your dad.

But even besides that he’s been long dead and gone since 2012

It’s been years since that point and more importantly he’s someone important and your not

He’s an assassin born to a bloodline of other assassins

Someone who was raised in this tradition with greatness not only in his origin but also in his death

And your you

A child born from a one night stand who’s only achievement is being good at knowing about old people

It hurts but it’s true

If he’s a star then your a candle compared to his light

A mere blip or spark to the greater picture

There had been times he looked like he wanted to say something but you scurry away before he can say anything

Sometimes you catch the looks and small gestures Ezio tries to make as if to encourage him to go up to you

How Connor sometimes brings up to you how he wishes for reconciliation with his dad and that perhaps it’s possible with your own

Altair not beating around the bush and plainly telling both him and you to talk

But it all feels for naught and dies when those feelings and thoughts return

But eventually he corners you

Well not really corners you per say but he catches you as you leave your study after a talk with Altair

“Listen I don’t have any grudge against you. For one you died, I’d be a dick if I blamed you for that or your decision to save the world and whatever. Second you didn’t know about me in the first place” you say briefly looking up at him before averting your gaze, he looks like he wants to say something but he can’t get a word out before you continue “but you don’t have to act like my dad or anything. You never asked for me, it was a mistake, I was a mistake and I’m fine with it.” (Your lying to yourself)

You leave before he can get a word out, and he’s left alone in the hallway. When he returns to Ezio he just sits down in silence. It’s enough for everyone to know I didn’t go the way he wanted.

Admittedly when you begin to notice odd figures at the achieves you write it off

I mean it could literally be anyone plus the supervisors aren’t making a fuss about them here

If anything their welcoming them and looking at them with hopeful eyes

Small glances full of opportunities in them

It’s odd but maybe their just some non-profit here to support the archive

Or even private benefactors of sorts

But then they turn their attention to you

Plastic smiles on their faces, artificial pleasantries as their main spokeswoman sits in front of you in a slick suit

Her stilettos tapping against the ground as your eyes trail to her bodyguards of sorts

They stand not too close nearby

Watching

Waiting

And then she begins talking

And slowly you grow more and more uncomfortable

Hands playing with one another, fingers twitching in your palm as crescent are indebted in your skin

They apparently are interested in your findings

In your research

But more specifically you

They’ve researched you…a lot

Down from where your mother was born to her great great something grandfather

And your father

…but that’s not public knowledge

It wasn’t even on your birth certificate

This….this isn’t

She smiles though now the darkness melts away into something more knowing

Dangerous and sadistic of sorts

And it’s there on her little pin showing her name you recognize the logo

Within your house you’d vaguely heard whispers of the others talking in hushed tones

You didn’t mind

The less you know the better in that sense

Out of sight and out of mind

But sometimes you’d hear the mumbles of a name that you didn’t put together until now

One spat with venom just as they did with the word of the Templar

Abstergo

You barely have time to react before your black bagged and sufficiently knocked out

Mind drifting to that of panic

What would happen to you?

What will happen when the others find out?

But then those thoughts fade away into the dark void of sleep

When you wake up things are odd

Everything is a sterile white and too bright for your foggy sleep tinged eyes

The room is blurred as is your senses as you weightlessly drift

Everything feels odd

And then it happens sharp and pure pain that leaves you writhing and screaming into the void

And that’s when you notice that white light had left and your in a void of sorts

Empty glitching effects all around you as your left to look around in confusion until you see something

A memory? Specifically one of your memories

Your staring at a simulation of sorts of your past self

A 8 year old in their bed with chubby cheeks pulled up into a melancholy smile

You recognize this moment, your small hands holding a picture that had long been put away into a scrapbook and forgotten

Your left wordless and confused

And then that bitch’s voice appears again and she explains

This entire thing is a simulation of your memories

And essentially their gonna go through your head picking through them to not only learn what they want but then use you as their lab rat cause of your bloodline.

Cause apparently memories of your ancestors could be accessed that way and it was generally easier to have a descendant rather than finding objects and artifacts

And it’s there in that simulation it feels like your mind is being ripped apart

Memories ripped from your mind to play out in front of you as she makes comments and documents them before their forced back in and another is ripped out

Like book having pages torn out and then crudely stitched back in

It hurts so damn much

Over and over

Your just left in screaming again on the ground of this simulated world as she makes idol comments

Left begging for it to stop

For someone to help

For the love of god someone help you make it stop

Of course this would happen to you

You’ve always had shit luck despite your whole family motto being “make your own luck”

What utter bullshit

You can’t make good luck from bad

Can’t just change things when the scales are already tipped one way

But then like a miracle from above she goes quiet and suddenly the memory is gone

And your left in the void still reeling from it all

Still on the glitching ground before once more white encompasses your view

Blinding and bright as your still recovering

And then an unfamiliar voice tunes in

“Your safe” it’s heavily accented, in an Irish twang that’s soft as he says these words to you. A reminder that your ok now, it’s over. “Can you walk?”

You try to look at him with squinting eyes yet they still can’t adjust, your limbs feel heavy like solid rock. Unmoving even as you try. With some difficulty you shake your head

“Aight, I’ll have you carry you then. Are you alright with that?”

“Just get me out of here…please. I just want to go home, I miss my family” it sounds pathetic but as tears begin to fall the stranger doesn’t seem to think Ill of you.

“Don’t worry, I get what that’s like.” The tone is sympathetic and like before is soft “you’ll be home I no time, I promise”

You think for a moment before responding “I trust you”. For a second you feel him go still at that before he picks you up.

For awhile there’s buzzing alarms and panic as your saviour gets you out whoever’s you were taken too

There’s not a moment of silence as he sharply runs and dodges past what you think to be gunshots

Occasionally he grumbles something but for the most part he seems calm

Composed despite the chaos of it all

So much so that it makes you wonder if this is an average Tuesday for him

There’s so much shout and yelling for your already pounding head

But sometimes the yells are silenced as the sound of a blade cuts it short

Footsteps far behind eventually stopping

Sirens getting more and more distant and allowing you and the man to breath

It’s there in the pocket of silence you learn his name

Shay

It sounds familiar, like really familiar yet you can’t put your finger on it

Either way your grateful because how can you not be?

Your away from that place

Away from the torture of having your mind picked apart like a lab experiment

Having the privacy of your memories looked at and prodded

But now your somewhat okay

Your eyes feel weird, your vision feels weird like it keeps switching between something

Your at least somewhat able to walk though it’s unbalanced

but Shay doesn’t seem to mind

He offers an arm that you cling to for support

A kind smile on his face as he makes sure you didn’t injure yourself further

And then you notice his clothes are….old

Like Haytham and Connor level old

And…shit

It’s halfway home through the trails you recognize due to Connor that your vision changes

The world feels bigger as if your third eyes opened or something

Shays figure and presence is highlighted in a clover green

And perched nearby is another green figure, one waiting for a good moment

Shay follows your sight before promptly having to duck out the way from a knife that flies at his head

He pushes you back behind him, you stumble back vision switch between monochrome and normal as someone else grabs you

Instinctively you almost yell before realizing who was now helping keep you steady

And the other person now attacking Shay

“Connor! He’s good! He saved me!”

“He’s a Templar!”

“So is Haytham and you haven’t killed him…again have you!”

At that Shay pauses, turning to look at you with confusion as Connor stops his attempt as slitting his throat

Ezio on the other hand helps you up but keeps a firm protective grip

Watching Shays movements like Connor in apprehension before the two settle down and stare at you for more detail

Both waiting on your word

“He saved me and today has been a long ass day-“

“You’ve been gone for 4 days”

You pause momentarily at that before adding “long 4 ass days of having my mind literally ripped apart. Can we please head back to the house and settle this there? Thank you”.

The moment you get back your almost immediately tackled to the ground by a familiar white and red hoodie wearing absent (dead) father

It’s….odd but nice

Desmond (still feels too awkward to call him dad) is holding you like a lifeline and you notice bags beneath his eyes

He looks like hell

But none of the others are any better either

They all like positively exhausted yet light up when seeing your safe

Your home

It reminds you of your mom when you returned home from school

The long work day evident on her brow but her smile lighting up the room at the sight of your face

It’s no different compared to then except for the fact they all (except Haytham) then protectively pull you away from the nearby Shay who’s being glowered at by Connor

Safe to say it’s a little awkward until you somehow pull free of Desmond’s death grip hobble your ass between the two lone Templars and Assassins

A long discussion having to take place between them all as you not only explain what happened but also it seems you all forget one crucial thing

It seems you forgot about your mom’s side of the family

Whoop de Doo you have more things to process and so does everyone else here

Specifically Connor and Haytham Because before apparently knew (or know of) Shay

Great, another complex relationship in this household like there needed to be more of that

But with this entire situation it also highlights something bigger

Your not safe

None of you are safe

Perhaps you never truly were

And that in turns leaves you with the difficult decision of what to do next

Because In this difficult game of politics between two ever warring groups your a neutral force

You wanted to stay that way but unfortunately fate had other plans

as your drug into this game your left with limited options of sides for not only yourself but for the others who seem keen on following you

Even the two (former?) templars seem to follow your decision

So When Des…er your dad suggests finding his old friends it seems like the best option

It’s either that or be kidnapped and prodded again and who knows what abstergo will do to everyone else (even one’s that once upon a time we’re on their side)

Besides, he says you’ll get along well with someone named Shaun so It can’t be too bad

So he sends out a message and you leave the home you find yourself look at with melancholy

It stopped being a home when mom died but now it seemed like it was just that again

Only time can tell what will bring upon you next

But….you think you’ll be ready for whatever is thrown at you when you have this odd group of family at your side

The expression of blood is thicker than water never really held much weight since you only ever had your mom until she was gone

But maybe you understand it a bit better now

[demigoddessqueens]

cuddle headcanons

A/N: so a while back, Anon asked about this cuddles headcanons, and I loved it…so I wanted to do one for the Family Tree™️ + the Brotherhood’s Founder

Tagging fellow fans @ladysaturnsdust @wyyvernn

Altair

He was half awake as you slept the night away. If you woke, he wanted to say ‘don’t think too much of it’, but deep down the Master Assassin can’t help it. Arms wrap around you because he wants to keep you safe, and he couldn’t bear to lose you.

Ezio

It’s pouring all of the love into a tight hug. He’s lost too much, loves too hard, and now you’re here! And he adores you immensely! Call it selfish of the remaining Auditore son, but his love for you is rooted firmly, and sometimes he wishes he could just hold you freely.

Edward

Even as the Captain of the Jackdaw, he is not impervious to his intense feelings. You slowly roused from sleep one night before being pulled back back to with a gentle sigh. You barely remember it but you could have sworn you heard a low hum soothe you back to sleep.

Haytham

It’s a cold loneliness that claws at his heart, and for the briefest moment it dwindled away. Then it returned with a dear price. So now when you’ve joined his side with the Templars, he almost feels ashamed wanting you but your warm frame curling into his is almost enough to melt through that icy facade.

Connor

You’re so small in his arms, but you fit so right in between them. Perfectly tucked between his arms and chest, he admires your peaceful features as your breath brushes against him. There’s a lot more he wants to say, but for now he’ll settle for a forehead kiss.

Desmond

The cuddles are more for him than you, as slumber as already claimed you. All the legacies of his line fall on him, and your loyalty to him has never faltered. You’re his friend, an ally, and….his love? He may not know what’s to come, but he holds you for what is right now.

Bayek

The desert night was cool and relaxing. You were a new recruit from one of the cities, and you moved quickly up the ranks. Going out for the occasional missions proves strenuous but Bayek enjoys the calm atmosphere and he really sees how relaxed you are in the night. Admiring your features as he holds you lulls the Creator of the Brotherhood back to sleep, and he dreams peacefully for once.

[yukiyee-akian]

¿Qué carajos habías hecho para merecer esto?

Mirabas de el techo de tu habitación mientras dos hombres que en su momento habrías considerado tus amigos, estaban acurrucados a tu lado, abrazandote casi posesivamente, sin siquiera sentir una pizca de remordimiento incluso minutos después de haberte enterado de todas las atrocidades que tuvieron que hacer para tenerte y haberlos enfrentado. Te sentías horrible de tan solo sentir su presencia, ellos no habían siquiera parpadeado y admitían todo e incluso peor, lo justificaban diciendo que era necesario para protegerte y cuidarte.

La peor parte de todo es que ni si quiera podías tratar escapar, te superaban en fuerza, agilidad, resistencia... Perfectamente podrían quebrarte una pierna sin problema si quisieran asegurarse de que no te escaparías...

Lágrimas cristalinas se escaparon de tus ojos ante la sola idea...

Este trabajo no está corregido, es solo un escrito rápido.

Porfavor, nunca tomar el tipo de comportamiento yandere como un ideal. Yandere en la vida real es una persona tóxica y es necesario alejarla cuanto antes. En situaciones extremas, contactar con las autoridades correspondientes.

Porfavor, al lector: Cuidarse y tener autoestima es importante para poder detectar comportamientos nocivos y peligrosos en la etapa temprana de una relación ya sea amorosa, de amistad, etc. Si cuenta con problemas de autoestima y confianza, favor de considerar asistir a terapia.

Con mucho cariño

—Akian Yukiyee.

[ridingtorohan]

Content: Spoilers for AC1-3 and the events surrounding Lucy. A paragraph pushes it to PG-16 with reader lamenting wanting Desmond with direct references to the below verse. AU: Alpha/beta/omega verse Alpha Desmond, Omega female reader. Cross-links: ao3 A/n: Written 2018, formatted but not edited 2022. This first section is written non-linear.

Desmond had been something of an urban legend back at the Farm- he wasn't someone you knew personally, but now was someone you couldn't imagine being without. Surviving the Eye didn't change that fact- but it leads to something else.‏‎

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ WHAT LIES WITHIN YOUR EYES ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ part I (you are here) ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ───※ ·❆· ���───

It had only taken two days for them all to reach a general agreement about the place. William had held initial reservations about the Manor and Shaun had all but complained the entire way there. Rebecca had spoken earnestly about the idea, voice chipper as she twirled the headphone cord around her index finger with a face-splitting grin. Desmond hadn't particularly reacted to the suggestion- but nobody really pressured him into giving one either.

The Davenport Homestead hadn't felt particularly welcoming - but only in the sense that it was unlivable, hostile to everyone by proxy. Every other building other than the Manor was rundown and barely more than splinters held together by nails, a crude mockery of the fine establishment it was supposed to be. It also felt like home though, enough like the Farm that the three of you had once lived on, with the wooden walls and trees that dotted the horizon, so thick it was a wonder that it hadn’t overtaken the buildings itself.

It was almost hard to believe that the Manor still stood as it did, forgotten by the civilized world as it was. Your lessons spoke of the siege during the 1920's that ripped the Assassins from it. As Desmond traced his fingers fondly along the stair railings and the faded paintings in the basement, you found your tongue stilled. You wouldn't do anything to hurt him and with part of his mind still living as Connor, it might not have turned out well for him if you brought it up.

Connor was the reason why you all ventured there - he had never left the Homestead, not even in the end. Where else did he have left to go? Rebecca swore up and down that the Templars weren't interested in the place since the siege and even Shaun begrudgingly admitted that as a former Assassin stronghold, it would be able to support them. William had relented and admitted to wanting any artefacts left behind but you had a feeling that it more likely had to do with Desmond. You all had agreed to be there for Desmond.

Desmond was … different since the Temple.

All of you had expected him to die - and each time you think of it the fear clogged up your throat and made your hands clammy. His resoluteness was the worst of it - even back at the Farm he had been calm and flippant but that had been something different. None of you spoke of it - of how he almost hadn’t made it out alive.

Somehow, he had saved the world. It was only right that the four of you saved him. When one was haunted by ghosts, the ghost had to be put to rest. Connor's body would help with that - all the missing years from his daughter's conception to his death.

What the four of you couldn’t tell was if it did help more than hinder - Desmond had been quiet since they arrived, barely gave more than one-worded answers or a shake of his head. You had all opted to leave him be and while you didn’t know what it was like to be stuck inside your head, not to the degree that he was, you didn’t leave. Not too far anyways.

You wished you could say that you had always been close with Desmond - that you had always looked up to him and that you only knew the concept of love through him. The truth of the matter was far from it. As a boy years your senior, he was in a separate training class from the Farm. Even then, there was the matter that you weren’t really from the Farm. From a sister branch, your family moved there to help pater out the bloodline and prevent too close of inbreeding. Assassins tried to teach the people of the world and the truth of it, but it is a hard and bitter pill to swallow and not many acclimate to the lifestyle.

No, you hardly knew Desmond. You met him once. Before. He had been a withdrawn boy even then, pock-faced and pudgy but from your limited interactions with him he had never been unkind to you. Your memories of him were foggy at best.

Months and years after the fact, Desmond became something of an urban legend at the Farm. They spoke of rebellions against his father, of a short temper and quick comebacks. He had been the only one foolish enough to leave. In the end it was later transcribed to be bravery.

Desmond told you once of what Juno and Minerva offered him - save the world or damn the world. How the world would have burned but the lot of you would have been safe, trapped in a place separated from the rest of Earth by time and otherworldly constructs. They’ve lied once before, he had said and in the same breath, I couldn’t be a leader to anyone. And that was enough to know that he had thought about it, even for just a moment.

You had thought of how he had been the first to leave from the Farm of their own volition. How the Assassins tried to tail him and lost him somewhere in Kansas, something perceivable due to lack of credentials but no small feat compared to how many Assassins came after him.

Desmond had been the first but he hadn’t been the last. The rest of the younger members took a chance of their own. Stories came back that some were captured and tortured for information or lost at sea, the fact remained that he had started a revolution of his own. His kindness had not gone amiss at a desolate place like the Farm. Even before his ancestors had left their imprints on his mind he had been a leader. He just hadn’t realized it.

You hadn’t told him that, not when he had looked at you with woeful eyes. Self-belief was a difficult thing to nurse.

Some days, it wasn’t Desmond that spoke to you. The horrible thing was that it was difficult to tell when the slip happened. On occasion he would slip into another language and the lot of you would work to soothe him out of the Bleed, but other times none of you had caught onto it until he would have a slight misstep and fumble or even dazedly ask what happened. Those were the days that you would end up holding his hand or sitting close to him, fingers always a constant on his skin when you could. There was a sense of dreaded hopelessness about the situation where all you could do was reassure him of his own presence there - his name in every other sentence or a newspaper detailing the events. Anything to keep him in touch and rooted here with you.

Perhaps it shouldn’t have been a surprise that he had kissed you. Perhaps it was his own fumble with reality, his own tightened grip on his sanity. Certainly not one of his ancestors at any rate - there was enough tentativeness to not be Ezio, it simply wasn’t like Connor to do that, and from what you knew of Altair he wouldn’t have kissed you like that, it would’ve likely just been another task for him. You had sworn it was Desmond who did, who leaned down and breathed you in and pressed his fingers to the back of your nape and tilted your head up.

Desmond hadn’t been your first love, hadn’t lain out that foundation for the rest of your life. You had every bit of belief that he would be the last. What you felt for him was slippery - intangible and messy and so horribly painful and bright. A thunder in your veins and the tension in your skin - it was easy to get lost in him, to believe with full conviction that you would not object to anything that he wanted.

The problem was that Desmond did not want easily. You both knew the Farm - knew of how easily and firmly its own code could constrict someone. You hadn’t known you had been a prisoner of a cult in near everything but the walls and name until you had left with William.

It hadn’t been much of a choice on his part - you were one of the few who hadn’t left after Desmond, let alone died on the initial rescue mission. The Creed advocated for freedom but it was difficult to believe in it when it encroached upon everyone there, where the only law you followed was the Tenets that still stood.

Desmond was a pushover to an extent. Even with all the rumours that followed after him after his departure, all the rebellious streaks that was supposed to have happened … it all seemed moot when in comparison to the young boy that you had known. He had followed after his father in the end, had gone through the rigorous training and submitted himself to that way of life. Until he hadn’t anymore. But even then, he had hung low and out of sight, only caught by a foolish mistake. He had been admirable in that, that he had lasted for years without being found out by the very people who specialized in stealth.

He had not objected to the Animus though, hadn’t uttered a word of regret or denial concerning his own impending death. You could recall his resolution back in the Temple, his tired voice and knitted brow. Even as he faced death, he had not turned his back on it. Every time he was told to get in the Animus, he eventually did. He hadn’t even protested when they all came to the Manor the second time, when Rebecca had brought it up to him.

There was nothing but the sound of silence and snow in the stillness of winter. There was no other choice, not when they had made it and followed through on it. None of them were keen on traveling once snow blanketed the ground. Spring was still a few months off especially in the frontier. Desmond had a tendency for cabin fever from what you knew, had reportedly been out of sight every night back in Italy. He had been adamant about leaving to face Cross and Vidic himself, to collect the power sources and carry on his way.

Desmond had sworn he wasn’t capable of being leader and yet the four of you had agreed willingly. William had come as a surprise to you given his accompanied alpha status, the very same as his son. The fights that you had witnessed between the two of them hadn’t been pretty. Desmond had wanted to confront Vidic. Shaun and Rebecca had no conflicts about it in the end, resigned themselves to the best option.

You hadn’t spent long in the field yourself, could not argue that this wasn’t the best course of action. Your work was better covering your tracks and finding signals on the web - all proven moot when in comparison to the likes of Rebecca. You hadn’t been worth much now that both you and William had met up with the group but while it had been the two of you it had suited the both of you just fine.

Somewhere along the way, the five of you had unwittingly become a pack, had every dynamic of one that completely functioned. Lucy had been the alpha of the last one, the head of the group. Here, it had fallen to Desmond and he wore it exactly like how he settled into his genetic memories. Easily and seamlessly. Even with your heart in your throat, you had offered no protest to him going to Abstergo.

You had cared for Desmond in your own way, had admired his steadfastness and determination until he had nearly killed himself for it. Your first introduction to him was to a boy with a face with a frown and the second was to someone equally as desolate. His sleep had not been peaceful, comatose and unresponsive to the world.

“Get him in the Animus” William had said and Desmond was strapped in. Even when the Animus went on the fritz and tried to deny his mind, when he had outright flatlined more than once, he had remained strong. When Desmond chased after Vidic, stood tall on that skyscraper, mic attached to his shirt, you could hear the wonder and awe in his voice. While you couldn't see his face, you could see what he did. Despite the grainy feedback, you saw where he stood at the end of everything.

It’s it beautiful? He had said. With your heart permanently glued to the inner lining of your throat, you had agreed. Desmond had stopped to admire the view and you had done it with him. Until it had been time to go, time to kill and move on and go go go go go.

None of you could stop, not even for a moment, not for some sight seeing or to catch their breaths. But the memory had implanted itself in your mind, solid and true. You had understood then why Desmond had left. And when Desmond took a Leap of Faith afterwards, you had inadvertently fallen with him.

Desmond had not forgotten your agreement. Even when everyone else had ushered him to hurry on, you had spoken in positive response. Even when the threat of the world hung around all your shoulders - and the doom it had spelled for him - he had pulled you aside on the rare occasion that he had been lucid and handed you his phone.

“You had liked the view too,” he had said with a worn smile and half-lidded eyes. It was not something that you had easily forgotten either. You were all but deftly reminded of his unfailing kindness and selflessness then. How he had taken the time to take a picture just for you.

“Thank you,” you had said. It was almost all that you could. He had smiled, something far more genuine that only solidified the feeling in your chest. He had clapped a hand to your shoulder and was ushered back into the Animus.

The situation between you two had shifted then. Because alphas and omegas were historically known to generally get along you had to endure nearly a dozen of Shaun’s ribbing comments already. It had been senseless banter and shameless teasing before, implications present in the edge of his voice. It was not something that could be ignored anymore, not anything that you wanted to let go of.

You didn’t want to replace Lucy, nor could you properly. She had been an alpha. You had known of her importance to the group, how hard her absence and betrayal had hit them. William hadn’t tried to replace her, even as another alpha he could sense her own placement there.

Lucy was a sore subject, a soft whisper if even that. You knew she had been close to Desmond but the truth hadn’t hurt before. If you could even call this feeling hurt- you couldn’t envy a dead woman, couldn’t chastise her for her own wasted opportunities and lament about what could have been between the two of them.

But in a way, you had taken her spot. She had tended to Desmond and now you did. The wedge between you - the wall formed by your arrival with his father had began to dismantle. Desmond didn’t necessarily need to be cared for, he could stand on his own and effortlessly carried the weight of the entire group. The admiration you had felt for him shifted since the phone, since returned to him so he could fiddle with it and record some audio clips you believed, had settled into something warmer and more wanting.

You couldn’t help him entirely, not in the way that mattered most or most effectively. You would like to believe it had been enough.

You were not entirely obtuse in your feelings for him - Rebecca had eyed you plenty a time over the edge of her computer. Shaun for his part had tried to arrange it so that the both of you were together. William pretended it wasn’t happening and perhaps for that alone you were thankful. Desmond, in his own way, had not remained oblivious either.

Rather, it had been Desmond-as-Ezio who had caught on. As Rebecca had told you, Ezio was a flirt through and through. While Ezio knew the ways of sex like the back of his hand, he knew love even greater. He had always fallen hard and fast. You had known it was Ezio at the forefront of Desmond's mind by the way he had watched you and curled his vowels.

Shaun had translated once, had remained stone-faced for far longer than you thought he would, before he said that Ezio suggested you tell him. “I have known love and I have lost it,” is what Shaun had translated. “Do not lose your chance.”

Time waited for no one. When Desmond had stood before the pillar and said his goodbyes, begged them to leave, to let him be to his fate, you thought to ask him to stay. Desmond pressed his phone into your hand and pulled you into a hug in the same motion.

He smelled of alpha-sweat-blood-dust-cold metal-whiskey-cinnamon-home-home- home. You hadn’t wanted to let him go. “I should have kissed you,” you whispered out. Instead, Desmond had let go of you - and leaned in to do exactly that.

Hours later, when the rumble of vehicles threatened overhead, their position compromised, you all struggled to gather what you could. You all had left him there to stand before his end. The end of the world had not come - but neither did Desmond leave. Time was wasted sitting there, incapable of mobility after most of your items had been packed - none of you had wanted to touch Baby, not yet. You feared you would still feel his warmth there, that if you so much as touched anything that belonged to him you would break down and cry.

Desmond had came out of the Temple and you had done exactly that anyways. “It didn’t need to be me,” he had say in way of explanation, eyes a swirl of that familiar glint of gold before he blinked, voice full of disgust, rigidness, and resignation. “It was my blood. It has always been my blood.” Then he had tucked himself in the back of the van right next to you and pressed his chin to the flesh between your shoulder and neck.

He Bled regularly as you drove along. William cursed up a storm each time he regressed and you could only clutch him tighter each time that he did and with every harsh motion of the van. You had almost lost him. You all had.

Even if you all hadn’t tried to Bleed Connor out of his system, the drive back was well worth it. The tires hadn’t survived and all of you had cricks in your neck but it had been enough. The Manor welcomed you all well enough but Desmond most of all.

Perhaps it had been the Connor inside of him that reacted, that still saw it as his den. Unlike his other ancestors, Connor had no proper pack of his own, not outside of his children, Achilles or even for that odd encounter with Shay. He had found solace in the Manor and so had Desmond.

William spoke of leaving after spring, of reports about a modified Animus and how Abstergo hunted one of their own. You had read the reports yourself but you had Desmond in your mind’s eye and so that was all that William’s comments had remained - comments. Even as an alpha, he couldn’t dictate what the pack chose. No one dared speak of going their own separate ways despite what the eldest seemed to imply.

Even with nearly two years as William's accomplice and with a reliable bond, it couldn't compare to what you shared with the others. William had not asked you to leave with him though, not then. For all that he had done wrong, from what you knew, it was a saving grace. You would not have picked him.

Connor was never an aggressive presence with Desmond though. The younger Altair, when he bled through, was a downright terror and an equally as young Ezio was too rambunctious, Connor had never mucked up much trouble. So when each Animus session with Desmond that lead him closer to the end that was written for Connor, you had seen less of him. It had been almost February when Desmond had whispered into your skin with a slur to his words, “He’s still there. Just resting.” Desmond ended up telling the others but you had been the first.

William eyed the van then and you had seen Shaun’s mouth form words of his own to comment but Rebecca had only smiled and clasped her hand to Desmond’s own. “You’re doing good, Desmond.” And he had softened and sent her a smile of his own and everything seemed right in the world, a little more sturdier.

Desmond did not want easily. He always put everyone else’s needs above his own, always followed their rules and their dictations. Even lost in his own world he obeyed the commands rigorously trained into him. He still chose his own meal if given a choice, still wanted to watch a surprisingly high quality movie on Rebecca’s computer with you - but he didn’t contribute to the discussion of where to go and what to do. He had fought so hard for his own life and it was barely with a fumble that he slipped back into that same old mold.

You remembered the day of when he had been found to have disappeared. How it had happened without warning. Ages past the fact had twisted the story, had stated that he had been found missing and his mother had crudely screamed and woke the whole household. The stories went that he had rallied up a small group of fellow recruits and taken a few with him after burning down an old outhouse. That he had threatened to leave numerous times before and successfully done it and that he would leave for good. That he took a car and blasted out of there with the radio on full blast.

You remember the truth of it. It took near four hours after wake up for anybody to even notice. It wasn't unusual for Desmond to venture out to the forest or to go horseback riding. There was no screaming or crying fest, nobody hollered or threw things. You knew well enough that Desmond and William had fought the night before. There had been no border patrols or guards or even gates.

He had simply walked out and never looked back, hitchhiked and bussed as far away as he could. Nobody had expected for one of their own to walk out - hadn’t expected that anybody would want to. Desmond had already been gone long before he had run away, it was just a matter of his physical body getting the memo.

It had been a quick and quiet affair with nary a word from him then. While you doubted that he would leave the four of you there, that he would so quickly up and leave, you knew well enough that history repeated itself. Desmond’s genetic memories proved that time and time again. You feared that the man you loved wasn’t the one you thought he was.

So every so often, when that same feeling niggled at the back of your mind, you went looking for him.

You found him in Connor’s old room. Relief had came in with a sloppy tidal wave. A shudder passed through you the moment you stepped through the doorway.

All of you slept in the living room, had set up that room to be the most hospitable during the cold months. The fireplace had kept you all warm enough and if it hadn’t, Desmond would be there at your back, holding you to his chest. Even then, there were moments like these that he was separated from you, far away both physically and mentally.

He turned towards you at the sound of your cleared throat. Shaun’s words from Ezio haunted you. You almost lost him. “Desmond?” you asked, voice shrill in the slow trickle of the air. You sneezed twice at the dust that floated around. He had drawn a mattress up there and even placed it atop the bed frame still present. Not Connor’s, you knew, but old enough. You touched your hand to his blanketed shoulder.

“Yeah,” he sighed and ran a hand up his face. “It’s me.” It … hadn’t been what you were going to say, let alone ask. You frowned.

“Why are you up here alone?” you whispered. The bed creaked beneath you as you sat beside him. His blanket was drawn up around his shoulders, huddled around his head like a hood. There was an edge of sleepiness to his eyes and a few creases around his mouth, bruises beneath his eyes. Desmond hadn’t slept well since Abstergo, since the first Animus session. That or it was literally his genetics. He has been tired long before that.

Desmond let out a slow exhale of air. Not quite a sigh. Desmond never sighed. Your frown deepened. “I’m thinking,” he confessed, eyes not on you. He’s focused at something on the wall. You almost thought there was a painting there once, a long time ago. His focus slipped and he instead shifted his hand to rub at his eyes. “Didn’t realize I spent so much time up here. Are you doing okay?”

You thought about how to answer that. For someone who had the whole world on his shoulders, you’d almost have hoped that he’d take some time to himself. You retracted your hand to tug at his own, to stop his restless fingers and to soothe him with small strokes of yours across the back of his hand. “I’m worried about you,” you said truthfully.

“I’m okay.” The reply hadn’t come as quickly and selflessly as you thought it would. There was no conviction in the words. Your fingers stilled. His flesh was so warm, so present - you didn’t want him to leave you. But you didn’t want to be selfish either, didn’t want to cage him down. “I’m about ready to go. Dad was saying something about Egypt, I think.”

“You listen to your dad?” you joked, eyebrows raised. There was a soft huff of an exhale from him, never quite a laugh but almost. Almost.

“I try not to,” Desmond said with a light tone of amusement. He turned his hand around, palm against yours before he twined your fingers with his. He let out a hum of consideration, mouth twitched at one corner. It was the most display of emotion that you had seen from him in quite a while.

“I don’t think he appreciates that.”

“Yeah, probably not. But he can deal with it,” he quipped back just as easily. You reflectively sent him a smile and the tension eased out of his arm, hand going lax against yours. He was always so tense, so rigid, so prepared for the worst to come yet. You hoped that wasn’t the case - you’re not sure you could handle the rug being pulled out from beneath the both of you.

Desmond’s smile stilled at the sight of your frown and with another exhale he let go of your hand to grasp at the corner of his blanket to drape across your shoulders too. It meant that you had to draw closer towards him, not quite sprawled into his lap as you would have hoped for but at least hip to hip. Not even that was necessary. You just liked to reassure yourself that he was there.

You echoed his exhale, drew it out into a sigh. “How are you really, Desmond?” There was a slight twitch in his eyebrow at that, at the pronunciation of his name. His expression lacked confusion though which was more comforting than you had expected.

“Tired.” His posture wavered and you worried he’d pitch to the side but instead he just pulled you closer towards him, one leg draped across his and his shoulder almost awkwardly pressed against your sternum. It was usually a hesitant fumble between you two to find an appeasing position for the both of you and eventually he settled to wrap an arm around your waist and let you rest your head against his chest. “We aren’t … happy with how things have turned out here.”

You stiffened against him involuntarily. ‘We’. Desmond had a penchant of referring to all the memories and voices inside his head as a collective ‘we’. Rarely did he refer to himself in the singular tense. It was just fortunate that he had been referring to himself for the most part.

Desmond drew away from you - and despite your initial thought, it wasn’t to get a better look at your expression. He drew a couple pillows from the headboard, shot a load of dust through the air in the process and positioned it up behind himself. He tugged you down beside him as you dragged the blanket with you and made sure to toss it over his socked feet, tucked your knees closer towards your body and curled towards him. “Why? What’s wrong?”

Desmond let his hand rest along your head and began to casually thread his fingers through the strands. There was a frown present on his lips again, deep enough to pull the scar across his lip tight. There was a shadow of a beard on his jawline, dark against his skin. He looked so aged from this position. You wanted to ease his burden.

“Achilles had entrusted this house to him,” Desmond spoke up finally, something sharp and jagged in his voice. His hand had stopped all motion in your hair. “It was-,” a pause as he searched for the right word, a violent lurch of his eyebrow as he knitted it and a hot breath of air from his nose before he relented with, “Connor’s house. When I was in the Animus, I - as Connor - had helped repair it. We had built this place, the entire Homestead. It was made by my hands - to see it like this...” His voice trailed off into silence.

There was a vacant glaze to his eyes, a ripple of uncertainty and fractured lifetimes. Desmond may have been with you in the room and that may have been his heartbeat beneath his hand but he has left you alone all the same.

“Desmond.” It was on the fourth time that he turned to face you, a couple pronounced blinks to his gaze as he seemed to focus on you. You raised your hand from his shirt to his face, cupped his jaw and let your thumb rest along his cheek. “Desmond, what you and Connor built was … was amazing. It still is. It’s just a little run down, that’s all.”

“It’s forgotten.” The impact behind his words had you falter for a moment. He didn’t say anything after that but he waited all the same. You bit your lip, wondered how much time he would give you to think of how to respond to that, to the tone of his voice.

“This is more than just about the house, isn’t it?” you asked him. Desmond didn’t immediately respond but his eyes didn’t trail from your face, insistent on staring into yours as he processed it. He closed his eyes, lovely brown obscured by the dark of his eyelashes. His head settled deeper against the pillow.

“Connor lived and died in this house. His wife lived here with him until she left. She took the kids. Connor had nothing left. Nothing but an old rocking chair and this house. And now here it is in ruin.” You wondered then if he would cry, if this would be what finally broke him.

You had heard that he had been unhappy when Monteronigirri had perished to flame and blade, when little to no one had been spared. You wondered if the memory was buried somewhere deep inside him, if it settled there as an unscabbed open wound. If it pestered him day in and day out. Ezio had years to get over the tragedy, if he ever did. Desmond didn’t have the luxury. It was still a fresh ache to him. To reopen the wound with Connor and his unlucky end ... 

“You remembered it,” you told him. “You’re here right now. Connor isn’t alone because .. he’s with you. You’re with him, and I’m with you. We’re all with you, Desmond. We’re not going anywhere without you.” You were firm to implant his name there, to affirm his hold on reality. You all had thought that if he relived Connor’s memories it would help soothe the Effect, that Desmond could go back to the life that he had before, that he could live unhindered and unburdened by it. Anything for it all to be easier for him.

“My Dad talked about Egypt,” there was a slight scoff to his voice. (I’m losing him.) “Why don’t we just go? I’m just holding you all back, this isn’t anything-”

“No.” You moved both hands to cup his face and he stared at you with impassive eyes. Desmond has not wanted much. He gave up a lot before, to get all of them to the end, to get them knowledge otherwise lost. He was willing to give it all up again with just a word. He would. “You’re keeping us all together, Desmond. We’re your pack, don’t you understand? Yours.” You leaned up to kiss him and your knee knocked against his before you settled your leg on the other side of his waist. He didn’t respond at first, let you pepper his face with kisses. Gradually, he seemed to react, upturned his face to return the gesture, to press his lips against yours. His hands settled along your hips, thumbs pressed into the clothed skin there. Your mouth lingered a fair deal more but it was him who dragged his tongue across your lip, had you shudder in response.

You could feel him smile against your skin, felt the uneven skin of his scar catch on you when you allowed him at your throat. You could feel a pattern begin to emerge in the light rubs of his thumbs, something almost like dialect. His kisses were slow, languid and light, a butterfly touch if you had ever felt one. You let out a breathy sigh of his name and he paused then.

“Desmond?” you prompted him and sat back on your knees, a leap in your chest, worried that you had overstepped a line.

“Just thinking,” he promised, a few seconds too slow. There was an upturn to his mouth, an appreciative look in his eyes. His hands hovered along your hips though and you knew that there was no use pushing your luck.

Desmond would likely relent if you pushed him to have sex with you now, if you begged him with a breathy tone to let you take his knot but you also knew that his heart wouldn’t be in it. That he might not want it. You couldn’t push him like that, you didn’t have it within yourself to.

“You think enough for four people,” you said pointedly and made sure to throw in a grin for good measure. You threw your leg off of him, tried not to let your disappointment surface in your scent. He had your neck exposed to him, he had already likely caught your arousal and anticipation in it alone. You weren’t disappointed in him though, never him.

“Hm,” there was a lighter turn of his mouth then, something pleased and adoring in that gesture alone. Even though he just had his tongue in your mouth and his lips and fingers on your skin, it was his smile that made you flustered. Go figure. You averted your gaze, tried to ignore the wider spread of his lips. “Definitely smart enough for four men.”

You swatted your hand against his chest as you collapsed next to him, made sure to draw your legs tighter together before you tugged his arm down and settled down against it. “Definitely,” you relented. Desmond’s look was appreciative and genuine, fond to the very end. “Or at the very least ripped enough for them.” You reached out a hand to pat against his stomach and then there was the laugh that you missed so much.

At some point, Shaun had started a running joke about Desmond being pudgy. He had been in his youth, sure, but most children were. Being on the run and doing a bunch of parkour promised at least some muscles. You grinned wide enough for the both of you when he rolled onto his side, albeit with a little bit of struggle with his trapped arm beneath you.

“Thank you,” Desmond said after a moment. “For trying to help.” You shifted enough for him to draw his arm out and he flexed his fingers experimentally, a falter to his earlier cheer as he stared at his hand. The very hand that he had supposedly clasped onto the Eye.

“Of course.” You told him. You leaned forward to press another kiss against his lips, let it linger and rest against the swell of his mouth. He inhaled your exhale and let his lips move against yours, calm and pleasant. When he pulled back, it was a wonder you hadn’t confessed to loving him. It would have been terribly easy. But the truth of the matter was despite your fear and insecurities, you knew that you had nearly all the time in the world - and isolated in the Manor as your pack was, it very well could have been.

Suddenly, you knew, that if this was what the end of the world had been like, you’re fairly certain you wouldn’t have minded at all.

[elfven-blog]

Complacent (3)

Summary: The storm's not over yet (ba dum tshh)

Orca!Merman!Connor Kenway x Reader A mini series. (The semi-finale)

CW: Storm, drowning

Dedication: Everybody thank @ramshackledtrickster who we all love very much for their art and amazing au!

Word count: 1.1K

When you finally made it to the dock the sky had gone dark, the stars in full view as you stepped out the back of the truck. You took a deep breath of the fresh air and rolled your neck while you stretched. If you felt like this you couldn’t imagine how Connor felt in that tank. Faulkner’s crew pulled said tank out with their machinery and got it latched onto the ship, securing it before you came aboard. Desmond parted ways here, hugging you and forcing you to promise you’d be back safe and sound after seeing this through. 

You stood next to the tank as the ship left dock, fingers drumming against the glass which seemed to attract the merman’s attention. His fist knocking so that you’d turn towards him, and when you did you saw him in a way you never had before. Sure he had smiled, grinned and laughed in your company but nothing like this. It was like everything from the past few months was nothing but a fantasy. Like his nightmare was finally over, there was a light in his eyes that you hadn’t even realised had been missing but now that it was there? You never wanted to see him without it again.

“Nearly there, big boy” you said with your own matching smile, your words had his eyes narrowed and his brow raised before he rolled your eyes at your teasing. As the ship made it to open waters, your head turned up to the dark sky and Ratonhnhake:ton rolled himself over in the water so that he was facing the stars too. You spent some time telling him about the constellations and in return he whispered about his own people’s belief, and all the stories he had about his time under the stars.

Ratonhnhake:ton seemed restless in the tank, you had tried to get him to speak to you but his answers were only glares and banging on the glass.

“We won’t be near for a few days!” you had told him, trying to explain that you were still miles away from where his homestead was. That the village wasn’t any closer, and that you were still too far out for him to be able to find his way.

This answer seemed to only anger him, his tail flicking and smacking against the sides. You were sure he was snarling and making those popping sounds you’d only heard him do when the director had been around. 

At one point his frustration had gotten you annoyed, you understood. He was restless, he wanted to be home but you wanted him safe. Why wouldn’t he just calm down a bit? It wouldn’t be long and you could let him out, he could swim back and you wouldn’t know where the village is. As was part of your agreement.

A few days later, you were talking to him again and noticed that his eyes weren’t on you. He was looking past you, staring at something in the difference. His hands clawing at the glass and his tail twitching as his nose wrinkled.

You turned around to see what he was looking at, your stomach sinking as you finally realised why he was so on edge. Darkened clouds rolling closer and rough waves entered your vision before you looked back at Ratonhnhake:ton “We need to get you out the tank”

It took mere seconds for the rain to pelt down onto the ship, the crew working to keep steady but you were far more focused on getting the tank opened. The glass had already started to shake and Connor was getting more and more panicked as he slammed his hands against the sides. “Stop slamming! You’ll make it worse” but he couldn’t hear you over the sound of the wind and rain.

The Orca just wasn’t listening as you tried to pull the latches but the rain had made them extra slippery and it took more time than you wanted for you to pull the lid open, sliding it off until it crashed the other side. The boat tipped causing you to hold onto the tank, and as it tipped the water soaked your clothes, Ratonhnhake:ton spilled out with it until he was on the deck. The boat righted itself for a moment but still rocked and for a moment he stayed there until you were next to him on your knees, hands pushing against his hip and bicep as you tried to get him to move.

“Go! Go!” he could barely hear your shouts over the storm but the look in your eyes and how hard you were trying to move him told Connor all he needed to know. He managed to roll himself over and started using his hands to try and get closer to the edge of the boat, using anything he could to pull himself but it was difficult to do with the boat rocking. 

When it tipped again he managed to grab hold of the railings and pull himself over, you latched onto something close, your hands curling around the rope as you watched his black and white tail go overboard. Then his head popped back up as he waved his hand for you to come over to him, you would have. You should have. 

But instead you shook your head, you just couldn’t. His eyes seemed sad now. Connor gave you a single nod before he was back beneath the waves, and you stood up slowly. Carefully begin to make your way beneath the deck, to the safety and sanctity of the inside.

You cried out as the boat tipped. Gasping as the railings hit your stomach, knocking any breath in your lungs out of you as you fell over the slippery metal. Your hands tried to grip and hold on before the battering of the rain and the water on your hands meant you found no perch.

People had already gotten below deck or managed to find something to hold on. None of them near you which meant you slipped beneath the violent waves with no hope.

Your eyelids felt heavier and heavier as you sunk, your body like led even as your mind screamed at you to move. To swim upwards and get your head above the wave. You just couldn’t do it. Then your eyelids were too heavy, your internal monologue screaming at you to not close them.

There was surely water in your lungs by now. You certainly felt like there was some in your mouth. That horrible tang of saltwater, the pressure of the ocean pushing you further down. 

The world seemed to fade around you, mind still screaming at you and blood rushing past your ears, managing to drown out the sounds of the tempest above. It was so peaceful beneath the waves, the violence of the storm having no effect on what lay below.

With your consciousness slipping away, you were sure the feeling of something wrapping around your waist and holding your head into something hard was your imagination.

Perhaps death’s cold and final embrace.

[reddeaddamnation]

Imagine: Forgetting Desmond's birthday and making up for it

You came back home more pissed than you had ever been in your life. Your mission was a complete disaster, your Templar target escaped and you were seen and almost killed. Luckily you escaped with just a flesh wound and nobody followed you on your way home. The last thing you wanted was Rebecca and Shaun annoying you with their behavior which seemed out of the ordinary bubbly.

"Hey, Y/N!" Lucy chimmed walking up to you "What's up? Are you coming to the..." But you cut her off angrily by straight out snapping at her "Leave me alone!" And storming up to your room. You slammed the door shut and threw yourself on the bed, finally letting yourself cry "I'm such a horrible person..." You mumbled to yourself.

A few minutes passed and all of a sudden you heard the gang downstairs yell "Happy birthday!" You were shocked for a moment. Someone had a birthday? Then it hit you... It was Desmond's birthday. But since he was on a mission as well, apparently he decided to celebrate it the day after. And you completely had forgotten... You didn't even wish him a happy birthday... And you were his girlfriend...

That angered you even more. You didn't want to look them in the eyes after you snapped at Lucy. Desmond must be furious and he has the right to be. They remembered and probably bought him presents too. Even Shaun must have gifted him with something. You just wanted to hide somewhere and never come out...

Then a soft knock was heard. You sat up and wiped your tears before answering "Come in." Desmond opened the door and smiled slightly. "Hey, what's wrong?" He asked. "My mission went horribly..." You answered "And I snapped at Lucy." Desmond stepped closer to you, sitting next to you on the bed "Don't worry, I'm sure she..." He started but you cut him off "And I'm a horrible girlfriend. I forgot your birthday."

Desmond stared at you for awhile "Oh, babe, don't worry about it. I understand that you're under a lot of pressure." He said calmingly but you didn't believe him "No. Everyone else remembered but I..." A new wave of tears cut you off and he hugged you "Its fine, babe, trust me. I'm not mad at you. Heck, even I forgot what day it was." And he let out a small laugh.

"Well, I didn't buy you anything but if you want we can go somewhere and I'll treat you." You looked up to him with a small smile. "Sounds like a plan." Desmond shrugged. "Happy birthday, sweetie." You leaned in to kiss him gently.

[komotionlessqueenmm]

Headcanon/Preference # 5

(Assassins Creed)

Gifs NOT mine.

If any gif is yours (or you know who's it is) please let me know, so I can give you/them credit.

Gif credits go to - (In order) @naidleen @lockescoles @itspapillonnoir @captain-james @sarky-sassin @itspapillonnoir @iures

Year posted - 2021

Note that text in blue is them talking.

----

◉Altaïr Ibn-LaʼAhad◉

◎ Altaïr is one salty boy.

◎ You thought he was grumpy before, just wait until someone (Malik) points out how much you surpass him in skills and looks!

◎ Don't worry though Altaïr still loves you, but the knowledge of you being more badass definitely pushes him to train harder.

◎ Which usually results in you sleeping alone while he exhausts himself in the training yard.

◎ Another thing he can't stand is when you decide enough is enough, and you drag him out of the training yard to join you in bed.

◎ He's relatively easy to detract from his grumpiness if you're in the mood. (^_-)

◎ Deep down he's insanity proud of you, and so in love with you it almost hurts.

◎ He'll never admit this though, not unless you were like on your death bed, but even then he might not be able to admit it.

◎ The first time he seen you training he assumed the opponent was going easy on you.

◎ Up until it was his turn to train with you.

◎ Before you got together he had a lot of respect for you, and was very formal and professional while around you.

◎ After you guys got together he still has that respect for you, but over time he loosens up a bit, and after the first year he's completely dropped the formalities when your alone together.

◎ But he'll always keep that formality bull up when others are around.

◎ With that in mind, PDA is out of the question... Unless you wanna man handle him into submission, stealing kisses as you see fit because he can't do anything about it.

◎ Practically insists/demands that he will only ever train with you.

◎ Secretly because he hopes to learn your moves and someday have the upper hand. Which is totally not gonna happen!

----

◉ Ezio Auditore da Firenze◉

◎ Insert Ezio eeking like a fangirl.

◎ I hope you enjoy being shown off to anyone and everyone in all of Florence!

◎ He gushes about you to just about anyone that will listen, mostly to Leonardo.

◎ Leo totally ships you two hardcore!

◎ He loves watching you train, practically swooning all over again every time.

◎ He'll bring you flowers before training with you, in hopes that you'll go easy on him. And maybe let him win for once!

◎ Despite trying to bribe you Ezio loves how much you push him to train harder.

◎ He knows you do it out of love, and that you want him to be the best he could possibly be.

◎ Which makes him swoon for you even harder!!!!!

◎ Gets super turned on when you dominate him, he never thought that was possible, but he's not complaining.

◎ He totally encourages Claudia to get some training from you, wanting his sister to be taught by the best of the best.

◎ Practically begs (despite not needing to) for you to follow him on every mission, saying that you're a formidable team to be reckoned with.

◎ Smirks smugly when some fool flirts with you, watching in amusement as you deal with the fool yourself.

◎ He did get pretty jealous once though when a master assassin was getting a little to close to you.

◎ He had removed his shoulder cape, and draped it across your shoulder as they spoke to you. Acting as if he wasn't doing anything out of the ordinary.

◎ Gets super clingy when you get hurt on a mission, while it doesn't happen often, he always feels guilty because it's typically his fault in the first place.

◎ Although every time you save him, he's all heart eyes.

◎ And probably pitching a tint. (^_-)

◎ You're his Knight in hooded armor. 😍

----

◉Connor Kenway◉

◎ Well this is unexpected. 0.o

◎ Initially confused and jealous that you're more badass than him.

◎ Subtlety tries to mimic your moves, and learn from you without actually asking to train with you.

◎ He takes so much pride in the fact that he's a little more swift than you in the trees.

◎ He also take pride in being your boyfriend when you finally get together.

◎ Even when you get together, he's still to shy to ask you to teach him some of your moves.

◎ Gets all bashful when you take it upon yourself to teach him something here or there.

◎ Ridiculously smug when you meet his father and you not only out class Haytham, but you prove to be more badass than him as well.

◎ He's all like yep that's my girlfriend, she's a total badass and she can totally kick your ass!

◎ He's also a wee bit smug about the fact that he's got his own ship, and you do not.

◎ That smugness vanishes when he witnesses how good you are at Captaining the ship regardless of it being his ship.

◎ He's really proud though, and he secretly wonders if his mother would approve of you.

◎ He's confident she would, in fact he's confident she'd adore you as much as he does.

◎ Asks for your help to find and take down Charles Lee, knowing if anyone could do it, it'd be you.

◎ Despite you being more skilled than him, he still feels the need to protect you at all costs.

◎ Which makes you feel the need to protect him at all costs as well.

◎ It's a never ending cycle.

◎ Conner once had to restrain himself from attacking his father when the older man tried flirting with you.

◎ He practically melted when you called him by his birth name.

◎ Ratonhnhaké:ton just rolled off your tongue so naturally, he was so proud and happy!

◎ He almost cried.

◎ Was there anything you couldn't do?

----

◉Edward Kenway◉

◎ Challenge accepted!

◎ He's constantly challenging you to do all sorts of things, and he's both proud and disappointed when you beat him each time.

◎ My ships bigger babe!

◎ He holds that one over your head, it's about the only thing he's got over you so what do you expect?

◎ Despite you being a total badass, he refuses to let you go diving for treasure.

◎ It's to dangerous babe, let me do this for you please.

◎ He swears to you he seen that kraken creature of legend.

◎ How have you killed more whales than him!?!?!?!?

◎ Totally thinks you're related to Black Beard because of the relationship you have with the older man.

◎ Unlike the others Edward is not going to train harder, he knows you're more badass, and he's okay with that.

◎ Similar to Ezio he's gonna show you off to all sorts of people, although his showing you off isn't as wholesome as Ezio's.

◎ It honestly feels more like a dog owner instructing their dog to show off some tricks.

◎ He's completely oblivious to you feeling this way about that.

◎ When he met you it was an instant love at first sight.

◎ He froze in his tracks, went uncharacteristically silent, and just stared at you like you were a goddess among men.

◎ And when he found out you were beautiful and a badass, he was completely and utterly in love.

◎ He stuttered oddly enough the first time he spoke to you, after a long drink from his bottle of rum he got over the stuttering.

◎ He was ecstatic when he made you laugh the first time.

◎ Edward lives for seeing you kick ass.

◎ Not so much however when it's his ass you're kicking.

◎ He will act like a kicked puppy when you beat him during a training session, sulking away to lick his wounds.

◎ Behind closed doors he practically makes you butter up to him, giving you the cold shoulder and all.

◎ At least until he can't take it anymore, and he just attacks you with love and affection.

◎ He's just being a drama Queen, and you're well aware of this, but you're content to play along.

----

◉Jacob Frye◉

◎ Is it just Jacob, or is it hot in here????

◎ Like oh my god babe do that again!!!! 😱

◎ You thought Ezio was a fangirl, he ain't got anything on Jacob here.

◎ This teddy bear of a man is just so freaking soft around you it's adorable and ridiculous.

◎ He insists on training with you, and it's totally because he gets super turned on when you beat him.

◎ Like yes that did kinda hurt, but your tits are pressed against me and now I'm hard.

◎ Just like Edward he won't push himself to train harder, he ✨loves✨ the fact that you're more badass than him and Evie.

◎ Laughs like a mad man when you beat Evie in training, which agitates his twin to no end.

◎ Also finds it super hilarious when a new Rook thinks they can flirt with you, or god forbid they challenge you to a fight.

◎ He'll sit back with a beer in hand and just watch the show unfold before him, grinning like an idiot.

◎ Jacob also has a habit of challenging you to do stupid stuff, and he's purely ecstatic when you win the challenge every single time.

◎ Any time he finds a strange looking weapon or contraption he goes straight to you with it.

◎ Will watch you intensely as you try to figure out exactly how said thing works.

◎ He'll smile like a dope when he sees just how fascinating you are by it, especially if it's a weapon.

◎ Now you can be even more badass!

◎ The moment you got together he is certain he will marry you one day.

◎ He admitted this to you once while a wee bit drunk.

◎ Wants to join you on every single mission, mostly just to watch you be a badass.

◎ Although that has been a problem in the past.

◎ Jacob will never forgive himself for the time you almost got killed trying to protect him, because he was being particularly reckless that day.

◎ When that happened he refused to leave your side for anything, not until you were healed up and safe.

◎ Consulted in Evie about it, and his new found insecurity.

◎ Was he good enough for you? Was he holding you back?

◎ Evie went against Jacobs wish to not tell you, and she confided in you about this.

◎ She was doing it for his own good.

◎ Without hesitation he asked you to marry him when you soothed his worries, and assured him that he was stuck with you for good.

◎ Probably screams in excitement when you say yes.

◎ He secretly can't wait to have kids with you, and see just how badass they'll be as well.

◎ He is the sappist & happiest gang leader / assassin to ever live with you by his side.

◎ He's so proud of you he will shout it from the roof tops, especially when he sees you blushing from this.

----

◉Bayek◉

◎ Happy Medjay noises!

◎ He adore a badass woman, one that can not only keep up with him, but one that can potentially surpass him as well.

◎ He also likes knowing that you can handle yourself against deadly enemies.

◎ And he feels comfortable with you traveling into the desert, knowing you can survive the harsh terrain.

◎ Loves loves loves traveling Egypt with you by his side.

◎ He also loves that Senu adores you, Senu is his feathered best friend after all.

◎ He totally challenged you to see who could climb up to the very top of the largest pyramid of Giza.

◎ He laughed when he found you punched at the top waiting for him, his chest sweeping with pride.

◎ He proudly presented you to Cleopatra once, gushing to her about how incredible you are.

◎ When he presented the idea of the Hidden Ones to you he was both nervous and excited.

◎ He beamed with pure joy when you encouraged the idea, and agreed to join him on this journey.

◎ Asks you to train with him all the time.

◎ When you train together he enjoys that you push him to try harder.

◎ And when the Hidden Ones become a thing, he asks you to train the first initiates.

◎ Bayek loves racing with you out in the desert, horseback, camelback, or carriages doesn't matter which one he loves it.

◎ He was relieved to have you by his side in the gladiator arena, the two of you together are unstoppable.

◎ He's so far from jealous of your skill.

◎ He loves gifting you with new weapons, and armor.

◎ Seriously fell in love with you when you saved him from a pack of Lions.

◎ He has very few people left in his life that he loves, so he cherishes every second he has with you, and makes the best of it.

◎ He was tempted to get you a puppy hyena when he learned that you find them adorable.

◎ If anyone could tame a hyena pup it would be you.

◎ He would love to settle down with you one day, but he knows you both have a busy schedules so he understands that it won't happen for some time.

----

◉Desmond Miles◉

◎ I bet I'm more badass at bartending!

◎ I have lifetimes of training from my ancestors, how are you more badass than me!?!?!?!?!?!?

◎ Totally jealous for a very long time.

◎ He's always trying to prove that's he's more badass, but he fails each time.

◎ He's very stubborn so this isn't gonna stop.

◎ He was super moody and cold with you for the first few months of knowing eachother.

◎ Over time though your charm wins him over and eventually you start your relationship with some sexually frustrated sex.

◎ At the beginning of the night he was a grumpy bitch, but by the end of the night he was all smiles and giggles.

◎ After that you were inseparable, more like he wouldn't leave your side for anything.

◎ He's still a little jealous of you even after you get together, maybe one day he'll get over that.

◎ Despite he's jealousy of you, he is inspired to dedicate himself further to the creed

◎ He doesn't want to train with you, because you don't go easy on him, but he cannot stand when someone else trains with you.

◎ Male or female doesn't matter he's a jealous bitch.

◎ He randomly gets your name tattooed on him as a good luck charm.

◎ Desmond also insists that he's way funnier than you, and he won't be told otherwise.

◎ He got violent once while suffering from the bleeding effect, and he was terrified he'd hurt you, but he's pleased to find that you handled yourself just fine.

◎ He also really appreciates that you help him through the bleeding effect, comforting him like no one else could have.

◎ Hates that you both have to be on the run from the Templar's, and that you can't have a proper date outside of one of the hideouts.

◎ Also hates how busy you both are, often throwing a fit when you're sent out on a mission while he has to stay behind.

◎ He knows you're more than capable of taking care of yourself, but if something happens to you he needs to be there with you.

◎ He looks forward to the day to this will all be over, but with each passing month he's loosing hope that it ever will.

◎ Oh was he a smug bastard when you snapped at his father, taking Desmond's side without hesitation made him feel all giddy.

◎ He just wants to be with you hidden away from the rest of the world, and just living in content bliss in your own little haven.

◎ Desmond tried showing off his bartending skill to you once, but he dropped everything when he seen Altaïr walk right passed you.

----

*These boys are just my personal favorites, and the ones I know the best. 😅 ALSO feel free to add to this! 💚

[tinkerbelldetective]

Taste- Desmond Miles

TW/CW: Alcohol

No matter the drink- whether you drank one of his magic alcoholic concoctions or a delicious mocktail, Desmond’s homemade grenadine syrup left a very tart impression. The clinking of the ice in the glass, the little garnishes around the rim, presentation was his second nature when behind a bar, and of course, around you.

Though his drinks were tasty- it was the taste of his lips that sent you on a ride. There was always a hint of something; pomegranate, cherry, mint, somewhere on his breath. His affectionate kisses weren’t commonplace, so when his hand found the back of your neck and his lips locked with yours, it was indescribable. Whenever he kissed you, it felt like drinking a cold glass of something red and sweet. He once passed a cherry from his mouth to yours, leaving you seeing stars when he broke for air, a playful smirk dancing across his scarred mouth. He was maddening and addictive, never enough and too much all at the same time.

[kisstheassassins]

Hi! I wanna ask how Altair, Connor, Shay and Desmond would react to a s.o who is too short. 4,1 foot( or 124 cm). She has achondroplasia (dwarfism) thats why she is so short. Its ok if they found it weird, i dont mind it, i mean, i want honest reactions.Thank you so much

I hope this is satisfactory >.

Altair:

You don’t hear many teasing sentences from this guy. Pretty respectable for the most part.

Except when he does tease you about your height it’s so out of the blue and it honestly impresses you that he would even attempt a joke.

But he grins and apologizes afterwards.

However turns into a demon if someone makes fun of you. 

God help whoever, cause he rips them a new asshole.

Connor:

Not a single teasing word comes out of his mouth when it comes to your height.

Good boi.

Like Altair, will rip a new bumhole into someone should they make fun of your height. 

You are the most adorable thing he’s ever seen. 

Being so tall himself he secretly finds it amusing how opposite your are in height.

Shay:

Now he will most likely have some jokes, but he stops only after a few. 

“Would you like me to get you a box?”

Knows to limit the teasing, and apologizes if he goes overboard.

I think Shay would want to learn more about achondroplasia honestly, how it works in the first place.

Gives someone the death glare if they begin to give looks.

Desmond:

The height difference is so amusing to him.

Not to mention how cute you are.

Gets nervous if you climb things to reach something.

Boy, you got an attitude. It’s hot.

For someone who is only 4′1″, you sure do have a lot of anger. Desmond has just learned to keep his mouth shut and just let you rant.

Doesn’t even let someone speak if he knows they’re gonna talk shit you.

[itseivwhore]

|Ezio Auditore x reader|(Modern)

I was at the beach for an entire day,from morning until evening:with the sun and the impossible heat (plus my pride and the thought of being invincibile to everything and everyone),didn't exactly help the stay...so I ended up to have billions of sunburns all over my shoulders and face (who would have thought...I've been spending 17 years at the beach every damn Summer,yet I never got such a bad sunburn like this one.Invincible my ass). And I was stuck on my bed,I couldn't even move...so how better to spend all this free time if not to write something?

Have a little modern au imagine with all of the Assassins,and at least but not last,with the reader comforting Ezio struggling and being a bit dramatic with the big sunburns he got.

Because I was annoyed,and it was the only idea I got.Oh and it won't be like all my other long imagines:this one will be quite short...maybe.(Oh x 2,I would like to point this out:the writing style will be a little bit different from all the other one shots I have written,since this will be a modern one,so don't really expect philosophical speeches).

~~~~~

Summer.

Probably the most awaited season of the year,where everything changes and the world takes on a new and youthful aspect:longer and warmer days,holidays,exciting and fun experiences,countless of new opportunities to spend free time with friends;maybe spending a few weeks in a beautiful house right in front of a lake,in the middle of nature,away from the city and its continuous noise...and this is what Ezio organized:three weeks in that beautiful large wooden house,where he would celebrate his birthday.

Everybody knew that the Italian boy had always-always-organized fantastic parties,with hundreds of people,inviting almost the whole school and all the people he knew,celebrating all night long.Everybody knew about his famous,big parties.But the group of his closest friends was shocked and amazed,to say the least,when Ezio declared that for this year there would be no big and crazy party:just a few weeks,all together,a sort of summer holiday,near a lake,in the middle of a forest.

And everyone,of course,expected that Ezio had rented an ultra-modern and very expensive house,but when they all arrived at the place of residence,they remained amazed:that infamous house,which the Italian had so long mentioned,was nothing more than a large,simple,two-storey wooden chalet.The outside of the house was surrounded by a thick layer of grass,decorated with many small colorful flowers,overlooked by large trees that partially covered the large lawn with their shade.A hammock had been tied right in the middle of two trees,and was slightly moved by the warm summer breeze.

The interior was spacious and furnished in a very simple way with wodden fornitures,and everything was more cozy and soft thanks to that small touch of vintage everywhere in the house:pendulum clocks,antique paintings hanging on all the walls,huge windows that illuminated immensely the large living room.The second floor was just where the numerous bedrooms were,as well as having a large and spacious balcony overlooking the majestic lake,giving a truly beautiful view.

In short,a truly delightful house,reserved and discreet,away from towns and cities.

Everyone,on the other hand,had found various activities and amusements to do:who,like Edward,Jacob,Ezio and Desmond,as soon as they arrived at the chalet,had lost no time and immediately dived into the lake,swimming and playing in the cool water;who,like Connor and Altaïr,had decided to take a walk in the woods near the chalet,looking for silence and peace,away from Jacob's screams,Edward's dirty jokes and Ezio's curses;who,like Evie and Arno,sat in the shadow of the mighty tall white poplars reading books,sometimes muttering something to each other;who,like Leonardo,spent most of his time painting the landscape around him.

Y/n instead spent the hours of the day alternating between being in everyone's company:swimmimg with the four boys in the lake,or walking together with Altaïr and Connor in the middle of the woods,or simply chatting with the two readers,or watching the painter paint his masterpieces.And,during the last hours of the evening,being together with Ezio,cuddling him,spending sweet and almost infinite moments with him,laying in the hammock next to him,laughing at his flirty comments,shivering at his reserved and gentle touches and blushing at his tempting and allouring glances.

The whole group was having fun,no one was bored,the days went by fast,and Ezio's birthday was getting closer and closer.Everything was normal.

Until...

"Santo Dio!" a heartrending scream of pain,coming from inside the chalet,interrupted the quiet of that mid-June afternoon.All of them had gathered in the large living room,standing around him.Curses and cries of pain had little to do with all that fuss:the real reason why the whole group had gathered in the living room was-as one might have imagined-for Ezio himself.

Once he was finally back from a full day at the lake,most of it spent sunbathing,everyone noticed how incredibly reddish his face had become-noticing however that he was wearing his t-shirt again.But he just shrugged it off,reassuring everyone by telling that it was 'completely normal',as if nothing happened.But the hours went by,and with them grew-more and more-the pain that became unbearable,impossible to ignore,the realization that became more and more vivid in his mind.And consequently,even his complaints and pain only grew:starting from barely audible groans to loud shouts,catching the attention of the whole group...who tried to do everything to help him,but in vain.

"Don't...don't touch me!" Ezio intimidated with a threatening voice,pointing a finger at all his friends who,a little surprised,a little worried-and even a little amused-were in front of him.

"Please,you need to take of your shirt off,Ezio!"  Y/n prayed him for the umpteenth time in an exasperated tone,slowly taking a few steps towards the guy,spreading her arms,wanting him to understand that she didn't have any bad intentions.

"I don't need to do anything!Leave me be!" Ezio shouted again with eyes burning with rage,backing away when he saw his fiancée approaching him,his flashing gaze wandering quickly over all his friends' faces.

"You are shouting like a girl,mate.Quit it" Edward's loud,bored and singing voice came from the kitchen,too busy rummaging through the fridge to turn around and look at the poor boy.

"Zitto Kenway!" the Italian apostrophied him,panting heavily,red in the face,drops of sweat running over his forehead,while he walked quickly back and forth in the living room,trying to avoid the looks and comments of everyone.

"Be a man and take that shirt off,you are complaining for nothing" Jacob replied in a careless,nonchalant voice,passing next to Ezio and then placing a heavy hand on his shoulder,purposedly giving some loud pats:smirking in a purely amused way when he saw the Italian hissing and groaning in pain.

"Don't.Touch.Me." Ezio repeated in a cold sharp-edged whisper,violently swatting the Bitish' hand away from his shoulder,watching Jacob chuckling and throwing himself on the couch,sitting beside Arno,who was silently observing the scene.

"Ezio please,try to be reasonable" even Leonardo tried to persuade his friend,thus beginning to talk to him,sometimes even murmuring something in Italian,gesturing from time to time.

Desmond,who in the meantime had returned from the kitchen and was holding a beer in his hand,entered the living room,confusedly looking at Ezio for brief moments,and then sitting down next to Arno

"So that's what Italians are like when they're angry,huh?They shout and insult you?" he asked in a whisper,raising an eyebrow,trying not to be heard from him,receiving instead a furious look that,if he had the power to kill,the young Miles would find himself lying on the wooden floor,dead.Desmond simply cleared his voice a couple of times,then opened his beer and drank a few sips,turning to his French friend when he heard him hide a mischievous smile.

"Not only when they are angry.They're always like that" Arno said,raising a corner of his lip in a bitterly amused smile when he looked up at Ezio,seeing him respond to the artist in a rather nervous,impatient manner.Y/n,meanwhile,had gathered all the patience and strength she could have in herself;she knew that the boy could be dramatic when these things happened:she knew him too well,and she knew she had to use gentle manners with him,not forcing him to do things he didn't want to do.

So,walking slowly towards Ezio once more,with a small,pure smile on her rosy lips,she stopped in front of him,looking into his fervent,deep,dark eyes:and when his shiny eyes met and locked with her e/c ones,the violent fire burning inside his gaze disappeared immediately,returning to the warm,calm,soft brown eyes that she loved.She sighed lightly,looking up at him.

"You have to take off your shirt,you'll only make things worse" the girl explained in a serious tone,but not scolding him and,rising on her tip toes she grabbed his head,slowly took the sunglasses out of his hair,placimg them on a small table next to the sofa."Let me help you,alright?" she proposed to him with a sweet,loving,caring smile,starting to raise the edges of his shirt.

He couldn't do anything.How could he refuse the help of the person who endured him and loved him most of all?He simply couldn't.So he got help from her,but some loud hiss and painful groans,while she tried to get ridd off of that shirt,couldn't miss.Once the girl finally managed to get the shirt off from him,she stepped backwards,e/c eyes widening,bringing her hands on her mouth,staying silent in front of him,amazement and genuine disbelief that formed in her face.

"Oh my God" Y/n couldn't help but let out a shocked sigh at the view of his body:he was completely and totally red,to say the least,burned.Ezio didn't seem to perceive how much he had been burned also,and above all,on his torso and abdomen:but the pains and burns only increased when he took off his shirt.The Italian began frantically to ask questions on questions to his friends who,either too shocked,or too amused,didn't answer him.

Desmond suddenly stood up on the sofa and looked for Connor,who had been sitting on a chair with his arms resting against the backrest until now,and then beckoned him to come closer:

"Hey Connor...come here and stand beside Ezio" Connor,for as much as he was a little reluctant and confused,did as he was asked,got up from his chair,and walked to the center of the living room,stopping next to Ezio.

Everyone watched the two boys in silence,until the young Miles suddenly burst into a loud and hilarious laugh.

"LOOK!He's the same color as your shirt,you could blend in Ezio!" he exclaimed,pointing at the poor guy,looking at his arms and chest and then squaring from head to toe Connor,who was wearing a bordeaux t-shirt:and,not exaggerating at all,all of Ezio's skin in his whole body was exactly of that dark red color.This joke unleashed the hilarity of the whole group,who began to laugh loudly,who more openly and who adding more jokes,who giggling confidently.

"Cosa?Fammi vedere!Non c'è un cazzo di specchio in questa cazzo di casa?!" Ezio shouted loudly,looking around frantically, tarting to speak Italian -probably not realizing it because of the fury and embarrassment he was feeling at the moment-he started to rum around all the rooms to find a mirror in which he could see himself;leaving everyone alone in the living room,he ran to the bathroom,and after a few moments another 'cazzo!' echoed in the chalet.

He returned from the bathroom,mumbling lowly,keeping on cursing and talking Italian,panting,completely and utterly red,tired and angry eyes glaring at everything and everyone around him.

"What are you laughing at,Altaïr?!" Ezio suddenly asked angrily,turning to the Syrian when he heard him laugh silently.He did not even deign to turn around and look at the guy,he just looked over his shoulder,grimacing when he saw all the sunburns on the Italian's body,for then returning to watch outside the window.

"You are getting angry with everyone here.It's only your fault." Ezio took an expression to say the least shocked,when he heard Altaïr blame him so blatantly.

"Why should it be my fault?When I was about to take the sun cream it was empty" Ezio defended himself promptly and assuming an authoritative tone,frowning."And I really wonder who consumed it all" he added,raising his voice,turning to Jacob and glaring at him.All of them followed the Italian's gaze,and the whole group focused on Jacob who,still sitting on the sofa, looked around confused.

"What?It's not my fault if Evie is bloody pale!" he suddenly replied,opening his arms theatrically,pointing to his sister who was sitting right in front of him on another armchair.Laughing cunningly,he quickly dodged the slipper she threw at him.

"Yes,I agree,it's only Ezio's fault" Desmond agreed,taking yet another sip from the beer,getting more comfortable on the couch. "I mean,you are Italian,dude"he replied back,leaning forward and resting both elbows on his knees,giving him a disappointed look.

"And what does it has to do with it?" Leonardo asked,purely curious.

"Shouldn't he be used?You know,all tan,Italy' sun,the heat,Mediterranean people" explained Desmond with a careless voice,gesturing a little with his hands,receiving yet another frosty and furious look from the Italian.Ezio rarely did become nervous,there were few times when he became angry:but he was not offended with his friends or by all the jokes they were telling him;he was just annoyed,tired by the burning that was all over his body.The pain was so acute and so strong that he couldn't even make a single simple move.He appreciated that everyone wanted to help him,but he had to admit that all that talking,all that chaos,didn't help him at all.

"It's no one fault,okay?"  Y/n said,slightly impatient,looking at the whole group and then giving a serious look at her boyfriend.But Arno didn't seem to hear her and,softly scoffing,put the book he was reading on the coffee tablet in front of him.

"Do I have to remind you that you yourself have said:'Oh I don't need the suncream'?" he replied in a decisive way,trying to imitate his friend's Italian accent at his best,looking straight into his flaming eyes.

Ezio remained silent,spechless:what the French guy said was nothing but the truth.Hours before,back in the morning,almost everyone-most of all Y/n-tried to convince him on putting some suncream on.But he didn't want to know anything about it,laughing and joking about how the others were so fragile in the sun's rays,bragging a little and feeling proud,proclaiming that he,Ezio Auditore,had no need of sunscream:and so,after swimming in the lake a couple of times,he lay in the sun,and stood there for hours,not moving,even falling asleep...only to find himself,later,in such a state.

"Don't be a smartass with me" Ezio threatened again,lowering his voice in a sharp sigh,pointing a finger at him.

"Otherwise?" Armo challenged him with his natural-old-boldness,quirking an eyebrow as he raised from the couch and took a few steps towards his friend.Ezio of course did not remain silent,to suffer the lecture of Arno,and began to respond fiercely against the provocation of the Frenchman.

"Can't we just try to solve this out without arguing for once?" Y/n suddenly exclaimed in a purely exasperated tone,putting herself between the two men and pushing them away,but receiving a hiss and a painful grunt from Ezio.

"Don't we have some medicenes here?" Evie then asked cautiously,interrupting the silence that had taken hold in the living room after the heated argument between the two guys.

"The only medicine it's alcohol" Edward answered blantatly,coming out of the kitchen with two cold beers in his hand. "Here you go mate" and threw one of the bottles at Ezio,who grabbed it quickly,looking confused and annoyed at the beer that the Welsh had thrown at him.

"I think we should go to the hospital" proposed Connor in a murmur,crossing his arm to his chest,taking on a genuinely worried look when he looked-again-at Ezio's body.

"Perfect!I'll drive.Let's go,shall we?" exclaimed Jacob cheerfully,clapping his hands loudly and smiling,excitement glistening inside his eyes,quickly taking the car keys from the coffee table.

"Yogurt," Desmond said seriously from all of a sudden,silencing everyone.

"What?" Y/n asked,wrinkling her eyebrows in a confused expression,approaching and kneeling next to him.

"We should use yogurt on these sunburns.It helps" continued the young Miles with a firm tone,showing to the young woman his phone,pointing at the screen.

"How can this help?" Altaïr asked in a skeptical tone,turning around and finally taking an interest in the matter.

"Yogurt refresh the sunburns,soften them and have a pleasant moisturizing effect" Y/n read aloud the information she read from the screen,scrolling on it for some more moments,for then giving it back to Desmond.The Syrian guy kept on giving a plain,cold and diffident glance at Miles,shaking his head in the mean time.

"Don't look at me like that,I found it on Internet" concluded Desmond showing his phone,for then shrugging,returning to lay his back on the couch.

"We can try.Do we have some yogurt left in the fridge?" Leonardo asked with curiosity,hoping for the best.

"If the big giant didn't eat them all..." Desmond joked loudly,raising from the couch,giving a playful pat behind the shoulder of his friend when he passed beside him,entering in the kitchen and opening the fridge.

"I only ate the coconut ones..." Connor justified himself in a low murmur,leaning his shoulder on the frame of the kitchen's door,lowering his eyes on the floor.

"You can find a lot of false thing on Internet though" the oldest Frye said,thinking about what Demsond read about using yogurt and other things as an help with sunburns.Jacob scoffed loudly,rolling his eyes in a dramatic way.

"Oh come on Evie!At least we'll be able to help that stubborn dumba..." but Jacob was suddenly and not a little violently interrupted by Ezio's loud and hoarse voice:

"BASTA!" the Italian yelled,making the silence return into the chalet and among his friends once his shout stopped echoing in the house.Everyone was motionless,nobody dared say anything,even Jacob refrained from making one of his jokes.Everyone looked at him in amazement,to say the least,intimidated,sometimes exchanging and casting fugitive glances.Ezio was there,motionless,eyes burning brightly,rapid breathing,red in the face,passing and placing his glare on everyone around him.

"Pasta?" Desmond asked confusedly,frowning and making a grimace.

"We are not going to the hospital,no one is going to put yogurt on me,I won't take any medicine!" Ezio proclaimed authoritatively,higly and stubborly denying any kind of help and refusing any kind of purposes.Taking his sunglasses from the coffee table,placing them on his head,he started to walk towards the door. "And you..." he stopped near the treshold of the kitchen,where Edward still was,before standing im fromt of the Welsh."You can keep your beer Edward" e,taking his hand,he forcefully gave the beer he threw at him before,for then storming out from the chalet.

Y/n-who since the moment Ezio began to shout had been silent as everyone else-was trying to reach him,but she felt a hand grasping her wrist and tugging her slightly,stopping her.Turning around,she found Arno beside her,his hand now resting on her shoulder,squeezing gently.

"Leave him be.He is angry,there's no way to let him reason now" he said to the girl,giving her a bitter and soft smile,nodding towards the window and letting her see that Ezio was outside,laying on the hammock...at least,trying to lay on it,for the sunburns he got all over his body didn't allow him to move,swearing and cursing for at least another hour.

~~~~~

A few hours passed by all what Jacob jokingly called an 'Italian tragedy'.It was late evening by now,almost midnight,and Ezio was still outside sitting on a chair near a wooden table not far from the front door:no one had dared disturb him,for fear of increasing his anger,or of unleashing something infectious.The Italian hadn't even come home for dinner,or for any other reason:he had stayed there for the rest of the day,first lying in a hammock,perhaps asleep,then sitting in a chair staring at nothing,occasionally trying to touch his shoulder or back to see if the pain still persisted.

No one seemed to care so much about him anymore.Apart from Y/n who,of course,was the most worried of all of them:she always turned her gaze towards the windows,trying to catch a glimpse of his form,trying to understand if he was still upset or if he had calmed down,but she certainly couldn't stand there,motionless,looking at him,doing nothing.So she decided to finally get out of the chalet,and try to let him reason,and calming him

Once outside,she gently closed the door behind her,looking for her boyfriend with her eyes,finding him sitting with his back to the chalet,eyes looking at the big,calm lake.The girl took a few steps forward,starting to walk as quietly as possible towards him.But he heard her.

"If there's somebody else then you all can go away," he coldly proclaimed in a loud and decise voice,not turning around and continuing to look at the lake.It was really a beautiful evening:sky full of stars,moon high in the sky,the water reflecting its dull and cold rays on its small waves,a light and fresh breeze made the branches of the trees move gently.

"I'll go away then" Y/n replied in a neutral tone,getting closer and closer until she found herself standing behind his reddish-shoulders.He turned around as soon as he heard her voice,looking at her in an astonished and tired way.

"You're the only person I want next to me even when I'm upset" Ezio murmured in a soothing,low voice,soft and warm brown eyes pleading her shiny e/c ones,her heart almost melting when she heard such a gentle,and utter loving phrase leaving his lips.Her Ezio was back.

"Vieni qui" he whispered,opening his arms,stretching an arm out,gently grabbing her by her waist and delicately letting her sit on his lap.Muscular arms wrapped around her form,pulling her closer,not caring about the pain that action was causing him,just holding her as close as possible,face buried in her chest,snuggling his stubble against her soft flesh,smiling against her skin when he heard her giggling.

She deteached away from him,looking at him before giving him a smile when,as she was caressing his cheek,he leaned his face on her palm,almost wanting to be lulled after such a long,tiring day.He opened his eyes after a while,fixing some strands of h/c hair that were falling in front of her.

"I'm sorry" the Italian whispered suddenly,giving his beloved a look full of guilt and embarrassment.One of the things Y/n adored about Ezio was his honesty and humility:he knew when he was wrong,he knew when to apologize and he knew perfectly well when to do so."I wasn't angry with you all...I was just tired and nervous because I got all thesw fottute sunburns" he explained in a serious voice,squeezing her hips.He could read in his deep eyes how purely sorry he was.She gave him a small smile,leaning in and leaving a chaste kiss upon his lips.

"I,we know,Ezio.No one is mad at you" Y/n reassured him in a soothing and quiet voice,leaning down to kiss him again,with more passion,paying attention to where she put her hands,so as not to hurt him.

Ezio still  was whispering apologies near her ear,caressing her,kissing her,thanking her.But she got up from his highs after a while and,after looking at him seriously,the girl leaned towards the table next to them,holding an object that Ezio had not noticed until now.

"It's yogurt.Desmond tried to see if it could really help,and apparently,it could," Y/n explained,raising the yogurt jar in her hand and showing it to him,who in response sighed loudly and deeply,throwing his head back,almost looking in defeat.But despite his reaction,Ezio sat down composedly on the chair and nodded.

The girl laughed purely amused and,opening the jar,she took some yogurt on both hands,and began to smear it on his shoulders and on his red,scalded back;at first groans and hiss,his skin still too sensible and damaged,but after a while,when she started to delicately massage his shoulders with the fresh,cold yogurt,he sighed,relieved.He hummed,closing his eyes,throwing his head back.

"Quanto posso amarti?" he asked in Italian,sounding so hoarse when he-once again-groaned when her small hands slided down from his shoulders to his warm chest.

"Shouldn't you be giving a message to me?" Y/n asked him back in a sarcastic tone,leaning down,whispering that near his ear,hearing the entrance door being opened and closed.

"But it's my birthday today" Ezio answered in a mellifluous tone,claiming to be offended,giving a sad grimace to his lover,who just laughed loudly,for then suddendly returning serious.

"Who told you I don't have a gift for you?" Y/n inquires with a low and semsual voice,leaning more near him,her hands sliding down on his torso,almost tickling him,her lips on his definite jaw,feeling him almost shivering.

And just when he was about to answer her,he stopped when he saw all the others walking towards the table,singing the infamous song:it was,in fact,midnight,and it was Ezio's birthday.Jacob walked in front of everyone,holding a large pizza in his hands,on which were added candles.Once they arrived near the birthday boy,the British placed the pizza on the table in front of Ezio who,with happy eyes,looked at what was to be his birthday cake.

"We didn't have the time to go in the nearest city and buy a cake,so we make a true Italian pizza..." Connor explained with a ghostly smile on his lips,nodding towards the plate.

"For an angry,burnt italian man" concluded Arno with sarcastic voice,raising a corner of his mouth in a cheeky grin,smiling at Ezio.

"I tell you,we aren't even sorry" added Edward with a proud smile,placing his hands on his hips.

"Pizza cake" Desmond said,spreading his arms in a theatrical gesture,but Jacob promptly interrupted him,raising a hand and shushing the young Miles.

"We talked about this before,Des.It's birtday pizza.No discussion," Jacob replied,speaking seriously to say the least. "It is law!" he then proclaimed,roughly smashing his fist in the table,making the flame of the candles tremble.

Ezio heard Y/n laughing behind him,her hands were now wrapped gently around his neck.Pressing a long,chaste kiss on his bearded cheek,she whispered to him:

"The surprise has to wait"

~~~~~~

°°°¡TrAnSlAtIoNs!°°°

"Santo Dio!" = Good God;

"Zitto" = Shut up;

"Cosa?Fammi vedere!Non c'è un cazzo di specchio in questa cazzo di casa?!" = What?Let me see!There's not a fucking mirror in this fuckint house?!;

"Basta!" = Enough;

"Vieni qui" = Come here;

"Quanto posso amarti?" = How much can I love you?

[marshmallow--3]

How the Assassins treat you after you've had a rough day.

Kassandra of Sparta:

You've been getting grief at work for dating a woman, and it really brings you down.

Kassandra picks you up from work one night, standing by her bike in the parking lot and smiling sweetly in your direction.

You're surrounded by the coworkers who've been harassing you, so naturally you start to worry about what's going to happen.

She skips over to you, greets you, tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear before kissing you in front of the bigots.

When she pulls away, you don't even know what to say, but she says plenty for you.

Turning to your coworkers, she adopts a sickly-sweet voice and croons, "If any of you have a problem, you're welcome to address your concerns to me."

Silence.

Even you'll admit how intimidating she looks with her biceps on show, her smile angelic yet her fingers cracking one another.

"Nothing? Then I suggest you apologise to Y/N for the grief you've been giving her."

Altaïr Ibn-LaʼAhad:

You've never had such a busy day. Muscles you didn't even know existed are aching, and you get the feeling no amount of heat rub will help.

Seeing you walk painfully into the living room where he's sat, he rises from the sofa and takes your hands into his, studying you.

"Come, Dove."

He joins you in the shower, his palms splaying over your wet skin in ways you could never dream of, pleasantly surprising you with his massage skills.

You very much doubt you'll be asking him to stop any time soon.

Ezio Auditore da Firenze:

You've been rushed off your feet all day, stumbling through your front door with a certain limp.

Ezio spies you, offering to help but you insist you're fine, making your way to the sofa where you collapse in the seat, kicking your shoes off and wiggling your feet by the fire.

Sinking to his knees in front of you, his thumbs skim over a pressure point, relaxing your muscles until they feel like jelly, treating you to his famous Auditore foot massage.

Closing your eyes and basking in the warmth of the fire and the wonderful, practiced ripples his fingers create, you smile, feeling more at peace than you can ever remember.

Ratonhnhaké:ton / Connor:

Your day has been non-stop, you've barely had a moment to yourself.

Connor comes home early and sees on the calendar that you've designated tomorrow, your only day off, as cleaning day.

He's having none of that, you deserve a day to relax. So he cleans the entire house while you're out, and has dinner prepared, still hot and steaming on the candlelit table when you arrive home.

Shay Cormac:

You've received some bad news lately, and have been far too busy running around to make sure everyone else is okay.

You come home to him holding a bunch of flowers, smiling warmly at you.

He's cooked seafood, his speciality, which fills the house with a deliciously salty smell.

Not to mention the hot bath that's waiting for you, which is the perfect temperature by the time you've finished eating.

Feeling completely drained, you fall asleep in the bath.

Shay comes to see what's taking you so long, and sees you fast asleep.

Shaking his head with a smile, he pokes your shoulder and coos for you to wake up, calling you a sleepyhead when your eyes flicker open, squinting in his direction.

After helping you to dry off, he carries you to bed and sings you to sleep while you drift in and out of slumber.

You manage to utter one word before exhaustion takes you.

"...love..."

Shay smiles, knowing exactly what you had intended to say, whispering it back in Gaelic before closing his eyes, your gentle breathing the best lullaby he could ask for.

Arno Dorian:

He takes one look at your face as he meets you in the hallway.

"Wine?"

"Wine."

Complete with you ranting on the sofa.

Arno listens keenly to your troubles, cuddling you as tightly and comfortably as possible.

Jacob Frye:

You get caught in the rain on your way home, getting drenched from head to toe when carriages decide to speed through the streets, splashing you with the puddles.

Hearing your sniffles, Jacob draws you a hot bath and helps you out of your wet clothes, preparing the fluffiest towels for you to drape yourself with afterwards.

While you're soaking in the bath, he raps on the door from the other side before entering, a mug in his hand.

"Cup of tea, love?"

Desmond Miles:

After working several late shifts, you're relieved to finally get off early, fully intending to return home and just sleep.

Desmond has drawn the curtains and turned all the lights off. Netflix is booted up and the coffee table is filled from corner to corner with snacks.

He lets you choose the movie. After all, his attention will be on you, his hands roaming your body and giving your ass gentle gropes, his nose buried in your sweet-smelling hair as he plants lazy kisses on your crown.

You're not one to complain about the distraction. That's the beauty of Netflix, you can always pick it up later.

Feeling re-energised from the popcorn and sweets, you tilt your head back and brush noses with him, smiling impishly.

Sofa sex it is.

Shaun Hastings:

It's been one of those days, one stressful thing happening after another. After another, after another.

You text him when you're on your way home, and he can clearly tell by your tone that you're not okay.

You arrive back to a quiet house. Soft music is playing from the bedroom / living room, and you creak the door open to find Shaun sitting in a pillow fort, welcoming you with open arms.

After giving you a brief tour of the fort, pointing out the fluffy cushions, blankets and stuffed toys, he offers to leave you alone should you want to be by yourself.

You shake your head, snuggling up close as he wraps his arms securely around your waist, informing you that the food shouldn't be too long.

Food?

He's only gone and ordered your favourite.

@sassenach-on-the-rocks @katbernoulli @winterwriter8845 @thank-god-its-fryeday @yourchepazworld @iceboundstar @the-purple-rook @lcvingvincent @balladofthesadcat @ass-sass-sin-o @assassins-and-hidden-blades @val-wywh @ladye11e @datagrl

Just some gifts to some good people 🎁

[thelifeofanassassin]

Valentines Day Week

Well I'm about to do a VERY impulsive thing. So Valentines day is coming up so why don't we do a thing. Why don't we do a Valentine's day week. I will involve NSFW (not complete smut it will be a fade to black or just something steamy; I can't write smut) and extremely fluffy fics. I will release some (maybe one) every day till Valentines day. Now here is the catch, there is a deadline for how many I will do. I will take 14 requests for this. Maybe more depending on how many I can write. That being said I would be updating more then once a day. Really its first come first serve, you must PM or send an Ask about: plot to the fic/scenario, steamy or fluffy, gender neutral reader or female, and the assassin you want. I would write for Male reader but I'm honestly horse shit at it. Please follow these very simple and easy rules:

Rules:

No yandere

Do not send me a detailed smutty request I will ignore and delete it

No poly relationships

I have the right not to accept your request if it makes me uncomfortable

That's its! Follow these rules and we won't have a problem. However I will still take valentines requests even after the 14 spots are taken. It will just take me longer to get yours out and will probably come out after valentines day. You may send me a request for more then one assassin and I'll make headcanons for them. These are the assassin's I will write for:

Assassin's

Ezio Auditore

Arno Dorian

Evie & Jacob Frye (older too)

Shaun Hastings (I know he's not but I write for him)

Desmond Miles

Altair

Kassandra

If you want to be tagged in a certain assassin's fic or in all of them, please tell me who and I'll tag you when the fic is up. Happy Valentines Week everyone!

[demigoddessqueens]

belated birthdays

A/n - I had forgotten for these three 😅 but better late than never

Altair

Not so much a huge birthday guy, never really gave much thought to it, but that doesn’t mean he completely disregards it. If you were to do something nice for him, or got a sentimental gift that means something to you two,

Edward

This man is a bit of a sucker for a spectacle, wanting to go out to a tavern/bar for a loud gaudy celebration, and you on his arm

Desmond

It feels like it would be either a hit or miss with Dez 💕

Either he doesn’t low key celebrate his bday, or it’s a small get together with you, him, Shaun, Rebecca and Lucy

[talesoftheassassins]

Desmond Miles + “Remember me.”

Relief.

That had been the first emotion, you were sure. After he’d given his life, you had cursed any man or god that would listen. You cried, and yelled, and begged, and pleaded for someone, anyone, to bring the man you loved back to you.

It wasn’t fair.

He didn’t deserve the hand that fate had dealt him. His life was short, cruel, and far more painful than a soul as giving as Desmond deserved.

But then you’d found hope.

Evie and Jacob Frye’s story had brought an extra variable into the equation, and as news of Abstergo’s massive Lazarus project spread, the entirety of the Assassin Brotherhood was on alert.

Then, two weeks ago, you’d recovered Desmond- alive and well, like someone had taken pity on you.

You’d been so relieved, so happy. It had lasted a whole of a minute, before the man before you try to slit your throat.

You were confused then, dodging like you’d been trained to do, but not attacking. The man before you was still Desmond, though you couldn’t figure out why he’d begun to desperately claw at your arms as you held him in place, stopping his sporadic lunges.

“Des, it’s okay,” you hushed, your eyes flashing to Rebecca. For a second, she looked utterly confused. She froze.

When Desmond began to lash out once more, she seemed to catch herself. She had a syringe of something you really hoped wasn’t lethal.

The injection caused Desmond’s outbursts to grow in number, but he eventually subsided as he let exhaustion guide his movements.

“We need to run tests,” Rebecca warned, helping you lift the limp man.

Together, you deposited him on a nearby bed. It wasn’t the comfiest, but it was better than the caves you’d been hiding in just a few weeks prior.

“What do you think?” You asked her after a moment of silence.

She would be honest with you, of that you were sure. Even if it wasn’t something you wanted to hear, you knew she wouldn’t give you false hope.

“Whatever they did to him,” she shrugged, “My best guess is it’s his mind. We may be able to help, but I really don’t know until we have more information.”

You let her words sink in, digesting them rather forcefully as you examined the man before you. There were crinkles around his eyes that hadn’t been there before, and a silvery line near his temple alerted you to a new scar. Even in his sleep, he didn’t look calm. He looked... lost.

You sighed, sitting yourself close to him. Without thinking much of it, you began to run your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp as you’d done many times before. He had told you once it calmed him.

“Remember me,” you told him. “Please Des, I need you to.”

Your words were barely above a murmur. Declarations and questions alike died in your throat as the first tear spilled.

You cried yourself to sleep that night.

[elsdaydreams]

Pedestal

Pairing: Desmond Miles x Reader

Request: Reader sacrifices themselves for the world. 

Word Count: 288

Warnings: Angst

A/N: It’s loving Desmond Miles hours, starting now, ending never. Thanks for the request, this was fun to write! 

“You need to go. All of you. Now. Get as far away from here as you can.”

A sob caught in your throat, frustrated that after everything the two of you had been through, this was all that could be done. It wasn’t that you didn’t agree with Des, you knew that this was the right thing to do. You couldn’t stand idly by and watch billions of people die, but you couldn’t stand here and watch Desmond die either. 

“It’s not fair,” you cried like a petulant child, holding onto Desmond. 

Desmond’s eyes fell onto yours, a soft shimmer to them. “We don’t have time. You gotta get out of here.” 

A moment passed spent in his arms. Then another.

“You’re right, you don’t have time,” you nodded your head softly, craning your head towards his. Lips just gently brushing against each other. “They’re gonna need you out there.”

“Y/n,” Desmond said warningly. “This isn’t up for debate.”

“Exactly,” you whispered, hands reaching up to rest on his cheeks. “I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Minerva needs you alive and Juno needs you dead.” 

“No,” he whispered. You almost didn’t hear it.

“Desmond it’s already starting. You need to go.”

“No.” Louder this time, you felt tears slip onto your fingers. You leaned up, mouths meeting one last time.

“Go,” you let go of him, wiping tears of your face. “Find a way to stop it.”

“I love you.” 

You nodded back gently, “I love you too. Now go save the world.”

Turning away from him, you heard slow footsteps walking away from you. When they sounded far enough away, you stepped in front of the pedestal. 

Juno was right. You didn’t feel a thing. 

[assassins-and-hidden-blades]

I think I have a cute idea! H/cs for Ezio, Connor, Jacob and Desmond please, how would they respond to their child asking "Papa, where do babies come from?" (This falls within safe for work, right?)

I’ll allow it lol also sorry it’s late I haven’t had time to open my inbox at all recently. I hope I can get another one out today but fingers crossed I guess xx

“Papá/o/Father/Dad, where do babies come from?”

Ezio

Would have no idea how to react.

“I don’t think you’re old enough to learn about that, Y/C/N.”

“Please tell me!”

“I’ll tell you when you are older, and no earlier.”

“… Okay, I’m older.”

Connor

“Where do you think they come from?”

“Um… special cuddles?”

Connor would let out the warmest laugh.

“That’s exactly right!”

Jacob

He’d raise an eyebrow, wondering whether to lie or tell the truth.

“Do you really want to know?”

You won’t be happy.

“Jacob, you didn’t…”

“I didn’t! They did. They figured it out themselves.”

You saw the wink he sent their way.

“You definitely did.”

SMACK.

“Ow!”

Desmond

“Well, when a mom and dad love each other—“

“Desmond Miles!”

“… Which wasn’t the case for you—“

Cue an incoming slipper.

“Not another word.”

“Alright, alright! I was just explaining how when two people have—“

“STOP THROWING THINGS AT ME!”