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ahungeringknife · 1 year ago

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365 May 3-6

After a point Desmond just came to the understanding that his life was weird and he really didn't feel like arguing with it anymore. Coming back from the dead? Near death? Limbo? Whatever did that to a person. He was so beyond his life throwing arguably impossible shit at him.

"I'm home," he said looking at the living room of his apartment that absolutely should not fit as many people in it as it did. And yet.

The first week it'd happened he was sure he was having a new mental break down. But no. That'd have been a reasonable explanation for a bunch of murderers showing up at his door looking like people out of a ren fair. He didn't know why they were there. They didn't know why they were there. When Desmond asked they just grabbed his blackened hand or arm. They were drawn to it. Somehow? For some reason?

Seven languages all roughly saying, "Welcome back," came in a chorus. They could all understand him at least. Whatever fucked up magic or whatever had given him that at least so he didn't have to sift through seven different tongues in his head to pull out the one he wanted.

"I brought bread," he said which got everyone interested. He didn't anticipate people from previous centuries to be picky eaters but they absolutely were. And that didn't even cover Ezio's insanely high standards for olive oil, which he basically drank. But everyone ate bread. Thank god. He always had to go down a few blocks for an actual bakery because of course they wouldn't eat store bread. The bakery knew him on sight now since he'd been going there every other day for a month and bought the exact same arrangement of bread. When they saw him coming in they just packed up his order for him.

"Everyone get their shit done while I was gone?" he asked amid some talking. Some of them could communicate but it was a near thing. Some of them even spoke English, which was cool.

"It was boring, but yes," Ezio said.

"Good. Who wants to make dinner?" Desmond asked, going into the kitchen and taking the bread out.

"Everyone stop looking at me," Evie said. "Just because I'm a woman."

Desmond didn't engage while Jacob was defending his sister's honor, or whatever. After a bit of bickering he called out, "Fine then we're all going to be unhappy and Altair will cook." There was some groaning.

"Fools," Altair said and Desmond was the only one who understood. He got up from where he was sitting on the floor and entered the little kitchen with Desmond. "My cooking isn't that bad... now," he added. Altair, like the rest of them, were not how Desmond remembered them from the memories as mostly wild and blood thirsty twenty-somethings. They were all older. In their thirties or forties. It was still weird seeing Altair in a beard. At least he wore it better than Ezio.

"Yeah you don't burn my pans now," Desmond said. Desmond still helped him figure out what to do. They all knew how to use the appliances by now but other than Connor, Bayek, and Evie none of them had ever had to cook for themselves until they'd shown up in Desmond's life. But like good Assassins they all took to instruction quickly and Desmond just had to tell them what to do and they figured it out.

"How much longer are we staying here?" Arno had come around to the kitchen while Altair was cutting onions with freakish laser precision. Desmond wasn't sure Altair couldn't understand French but he always acted like he couldn't so he didn't push it.

"I dunno. Until you guys fucking leave?" Desmond said. Who knew when that would be. Who knew why that would be or how!

Arno gave him an annoyed look. "I know that. But this is unsustainable," he motioned to the living room which had all the furniture shoved into the corners to make enough room for everyone to sleep. Desmond's bedroom also had some sleeping space on the floor. "Even at our lowest this is too much."

"Well if I want to break my lease I need to pay a fee. And then I have to find a new place that I can afford. And if you guys all fucking vanish one day I'm going to be in a big place all by myself unable to pay. I don't mind having roommates from former head mates but actual normal people? I'd rather die."

"That can be arranged," Altair said behind him.

"Shut it, you," Desmond frowned at him but Altair wasn't even looking at him.

Arno was also frowning. "Well perhaps it would be more useful if we put our minds to figuring out what happened to bring us here instead of what you have us doing."

"If you want to go ahead but I can't afford to feed someone who isn't helping," Desmond said, folding his arms. Because magic that they could all understand his spoken English they could also understand written English. Desmond had found all of them some reasonable paying translation gig work. Desmond knew they all hated it but also had no idea what to do in this century, let alone how to cross a street without almost being run over by a car.

Arno also folded his arms and mirroring Desmond. "I am not a stranger to hardship. But I'm tired of waking up with someone's feet in my face. Also Jacob snores; loudly," he put a pained look on his face.

Desmond grimaced. He could sympathize. Before he could keep going with Jacob Altair tugged his sleeve. He turned around. "Is this right?" and it was still so baffling hearing a hard ass like Altair ask him something so kindly.

Desmond looked over the chopped vegetables Altair had in the pan. He'd added raisins. Always with the fucking raisins with Altair. "Looks fine. Don't cook it too long or it'll turn to mush." He turned back to Jacob. "Look I'm not unsympathetic. I just don't know what to do myself," he said.

"Can we help you? Clearly we're supposed to be here? So we should help you."

Desmond sighed, "I would love that but none of you know how to use a computer."

"... A what?"

"Exactly."

"Is that the little glass tablet you carry around with you?" Arno asked.

"Yes."

Arno looked conflicted. "It seems... confusing but I'm willing to figure it out if it gets me into an actual bed."

"Fine," Desmond said and already knew it was going to give him a headache. "This weekend when I'm free."

Arno smiled. "Great," and he walked off.

Desmond sighed dramatically. "Punk," Altair grumbled, or about as close an approximation as Desmond could translate out.

"I knew you could speak French," and Desmond punched his arm.

"My wife is French, of course I can," Altair said with a grunt. "His accent is so snooty. I hate it."

"He's Parisian," Desmond said.

"No wonder he sounds like a prick," Altair grumbled and Desmond laughed.

--------

Having seven people crowding your space while trying to use your laptop was... something. It sure was something. Somehow they all managed to perch around him without getting in each other's way too and were all staring intently at the screen. Desmond had been talking to them, very slowly, for about three hours now explaining how a computer worked. He typically had all their translation work printed out and then on his days off typed it all into the programs or emails for the clients.

Surprisingly the one who seemed to understand it the best were the two old guys Altair and Bayek. Bayek was especially insane because he was from before the common era. Like the numbers ticked down on the grand time line of human civilization from where Bayek was from. Desmond wasn't particularly surprised by Altair who'd had his head in the future through the Apple for decades. That didn't mean either of them were good at it but they asked the least questions when he asked if they understood.

"I think that's about as much as I can just explain. You have to try it now. Who wants a go?" Desmond asked. He expected Arno to immediately volunteer. Hadn't he been the one excited to help him find a new apartment?

"I do," Bayek said.

"Weren't they still playing with sticks and rocks in your time?" Jacob asked, not knowing what Bayek was saying but getting the idea. Evie smacked his arm, hard, making him complain.

"Sit," Bayek sat. "It's light, hold onto the keyboard area so it doesn't fall off your lap," Desmond said and put the laptop on Bayek's crossed legs. There was a moment of confusion as Bayek figured out how to use the touch pad but then he got it. "I'm surprised you're at all good with this," Desmond said casually.

His answer absolutely floored Desmond. "This is nothing compared to the Isu ruins." Desmond hadn't personally lived through Bayek but he'd been told the story. Bayek was really good at telling stories. "That is actual confusing shit."

"What'd he say?" Ezio asked.

"He said it's nothing compared to Those Who Came Before," he said. "Didn't know Egypt had that sort of tech involvement with the Isu," he said thoughtfully.

"Ask him if it's as easy as it appeared when you did it," Arno said.

Desmond did and relayed it back while Bayek was clicking around on the computer and internet. "He said it's like reading a scroll where the words and pictures move with your thoughts."

"How poetic," Arno said.

"I also wanna try," Evie said.

"Yes, and I," Ezio said.

"Give him a few minutes," Desmond said.

"The keyboard is... confusing. I know what these letters mean but their arrangement is-- quite stupid," Bayek said.

"Yeah, basically," Desmond agreed.

"It also hurts my eyes."

"Yeap. It'll do that too," and he took the laptop back. Then Evie got to mess around with it while Bayek rubbed his eyes. He hadn't blinked the entire time. Then it was Ezio's turn once she'd had a go at it.

"Is there a way to see these mmm- webbed sites in Italian?" Ezio asked.

"Sort of? Just type into the text box in Italian. It should pull up Italian sites."

Watching Ezio pick and poke through what he wanted to ask Google was excruciating. "Ha! Italian," and he scrolled through the search results. Desmond leaned over to see what he was looking at.

"Hey!" Desmond snatched the laptop away. He switched into Italian himself to scold him and god he sounded a lot like Claudia by the way Ezio wilted. "Don't look up boobs on my fucking laptop. Of course I leave you alone for a minute and you're trying to see some tits. What are you? Seventeen again?"

He was going to have to put child locks or something on this thing so these Assassins didn't give his laptop a fucking virus looking up porn. "What can I say. I'm a man of simple pleasures?" Ezio said with a wry grin.

"Banned," Desmond pointed at him in annoyance.

He let everyone try out the laptop. No one was as taken with it as Bayek and Connor somehow almost broke it. Arno at least came away from the lesson and hands on part being slightly confidant in using it. Everyone also complained it hurt their eyes. Because none of them blinked while using the laptop. Blue light was hell of a thing.

They dispersed after that. Bayek, who still sat next to him, said, "Can you show me more things?"

"Sure? Like what?"

"I want to know what happened to Egypt," he said. "And the Romans. And the Greeks. Are they still around?"

"Well Ezio is what you could call Roman," Desmond said slowly. "He lived in Rome, the city, for a while."

"Is Rome no longer an empire?"

Desmond chuckled, "Buddy, they wish."

"... I would like to see what made Rome fall," he said, not in a sad way but rather he was very interested. "And what happened to Julius," his eyes narrowed.

"You're going to love what happened to Cesare," Desmond said and pulled up some wikipedia articles. He showed Bayek how to navigate the site, what the colors meant, what the little numbers next to words meant, and the sources at the bottom. After that Bayek was glued to it. "And make sure you blink," Desmond added. Bayek nodded.

Desmond got off the couch and wandered into his room, flopping down onto his bed. That had taken so long. He picked up his phone and looked at it. It was only mid afternoon. He had a few missed texts. It looked like they were from work. He ignored them. He wasn't paid enough to answer texts on his day off.

----

Desmond was used to being watched at this point even if he couldn't see them. Didn't bother him. This time when he looked across the Goodwill it was Jacob staring right at him looking like he was dying while Evie was trying to find some clothes. Seemed that even after a few hundred years brothers still would rather die than shop with their sisters. He chuckled to himself and went back to ignoring him.

Desmond was more concerned with convincing Bayek and Connor that no they couldn't just walk around shirtless or tank tops all the time.

"But it will get in the way of my movement," Bayek said about the long sleeved shirt Desmond was trying to get him in. It was summer so was pretty warm and Bayek had never existed in any sort of cold weather in his life. His logic was sound for Egypt.

"Yeah but you can't enter most stores without a shirt, dude," Desmond said. Connor was more accepting of full shirts having grown up around Westerners but Desmond remembered being in his head. He always felt too big for in his clothes. Especially Achilles' old uniform that he'd nearly ripped several times from just how thick his arms were.

"But it's hot out. We don't need sleeves until later in the year," Connor said.

"What'd he say?" Bayek asked and Desmond repeated it. Honestly a lot of the time he was just repeating what everyone said so any two of them could hold a conversation. "Why would the time of year matter?"

"Winter?"

"... What is that?"

Desmond pinched the bridge of his nose. "Think like the flood season but instead it gets cold."

"It would get cold in Egypt sometimes," Bayek said.

"No like water turns into ice," Desmond explained.

"But it's not like that now? And there's so much clothes here surely I won't want for them," Bayek said. Everyone had been pretty stunned when Desmond had brought them to Goodwill and it was just filled with more clothes than any of them had seen in one place.

"In winter cold weather clothes tend to go quick," Desmond said.

"Hmm-

"Desmond," he looked over at Evie's voice as she came through the aisle. Jacob was sulking a ways away.

"Sup."

"My brother is useless as ever. I need input on these modern clothes," she said.

"Sure."

Evie showed him two shirts. They looked pretty nice and were fairly subdued, which he expected. One was a feathery blouse, the other was a thin sweater. They complimented her skin color. Desmond didn't know a lot about fashion but he'd seen enough women come into a bar to know what was good. "Which one?"

"I like them both," Desmond said.

"That is not helpful," she said.

Desmond reached over and grabbed the tags. They were both five bucks each. "Do you like them?"

"Yes."

"Then you can get both-

"What?" she asked, confused. "But these are so fancy and high quality," she said. Desmond knew the Industrial Revolution had been going on during Evie's time but fast fashion was a hell of a thing.

"It's fine, they're just a few dollars-

"That's expensive! Are you sure?" she asked.

He chuckled. "Yeah. If you like them we can get them. Make sure you find some bottoms you like too to match."

"Are you really sure?" she asked.

"Yes. And tell your brother to stop looking like a creep and pick out some clothes too," Desmond said.

She rolled her eyes. "He knows no other way. But yes, thank you," she held the clothes to her and walked off.

"Those are expensive though, are you sure?" Connor asked. He understood modern money better than Bayek who was ignoring them and looking at clothes.

"It's about the equivalent of fifteen cents," Desmond said, knowing Connor would understand that.

"Oh! Really?"

"Yeah. Inflation is hell of a thing-- don't worry about it, it's economics," he told Connor who just looked so confused.

"I think I like this one," Bayek said and Desmond sighed when he pulled out the most Dad shirt he could have found. It was a tie die tank top. "Finally something brightly colored. This time is so drab," he scoffed. The worst part was Desmond knew he'd absolutely wear it.

"Okay," Desmond said, defeated. Then he groaned at the sound of some very angry Arabic a few rows over. "Now what?" he looked and saw Ezio harassing Altair about... something? "Excuse me. Before Altair kills his biggest fan boy," Desmond said. "Find a shirt that fits you, Connor," he told Connor and went over to where Altair very nearly had his hands on Ezio's neck.

Desmond easily slotted himself between the two of them. "What's this about?" he asked.

"Ezio says I dress like a woman," Altair pointed at Ezio furiously.

"... What? Also how do you know what he's saying?"

"He's just speaking a different version of Latin," Altair said. "That isn't the point!"

Desmond turned to Ezio. "Did you say he's dressing like a girl?"

"I said he'd look like a fancy lady with his dress," Ezio said and yeah Desmond got why Altair was about to kill him.

"Take like twenty steps back while I defuse this bomb you made," Desmond told Ezio.

"I resent that," Altair growled at him.

Ezio did step back and Desmond turned around to him. "So what did he get you about?" Altair raised a shapeless dress that was very much a dress but it was also shaped like a thobe which was traditionally exactly what an old guy like Altair would wear. "Looks like a thobe to me," Desmond said, realizing what Altair was going for.

"Yes. That's what I tried to tell him."

"But it's a dress too."

"So?"

"Look I don't care," Desmond raised his hands before Altair bit his head off. "You'll get looks if you wear that though and I know you hate being perceived." Altair grimaced at that. "If you want a thobe I'll order you one or find one at a Middle East bodega or something but you should just find some pants and a shirt." Altair huffed in annoyance. "Yeah I know, you hate rules. Get over it," Desmond rolled his eyes.

"I am more annoyed you know me better than myself at times," Altair grumbled, arms folded. "Same as the rest."

"Trust me I really wish I didn't. Either way, we can still get it if you want but I would suggest pants."

"Fine," Altair huffed.

"Connor, Connor," he heard Bayek calling from the end of the aisle. At the least that was something they could do. Desmond watched Connor join Bayek down the aisle and Bayek triumphantly held up an old sleeveless Laker's jersey. Desmond snickered imagining Connor's face of horror at the yellow and purple monstrosity. Connor for his part waved his hands like he didn't want it.

An hour or so later Desmond was finally in line for check out with the others. Evie had taken what he'd said to heart and found a bunch of stuff but everyone else was still too stunned by the variety to pick more than three or four pieces. The cashier was pleasant and had clearly seen weirder shit than a guy like Desmond shepherding a bunch of adults forward to have their clothes rung up and then put into individual bags. The total wasn't even that bad for buying clothes for seven people. The more modern Assassins still gasped or gagged at the price but Desmond didn't flinch at the hundred and seventy dollar price tag.

"That had to be wrong," Connor said once they were leaving.

"What was?" Desmond asked.

"The price-

"You said not to worry. That was a fortune!" Evie cried.

"It was like five dollars," Desmond said.

"That's not what the cash register said," Evie insisted.

"It's the equivalent of five dollars," Desmond rolled his eyes.

"Seriously?" Jacob asked.

"Yes. Seriously."

"That's still a lot of money," Arno said.

"For seven people buying clothes that is a steal. I've seen people buy a single shirt for five dollars," and he chuckled when Evie, Jacob, Arno, and Connor looked appropriately disgusted. Bayek, Ezio, and Altair just looked confused.

"Are these dollars worth a lot?" Ezio asked as they walked down the sidewalk.

"I do not have the brain power to convert to florins," Desmond groaned. "Or dinars or deben across like a thousand plus years okay?" he asked. "Like a shilling?"

"Ah," Ezio nodded.

"If you aren't worried about it neither am I," Bayek said.

"Sounds like a bunch of poor people to me," Altair said, specifically in Latin.

"I would agree," Ezio said absently. Desmond slapped his hand over his face.

"I wasn't poor. That's still a lot," Arno said in something recognizing Latin. Both Ezio and Altair laughed at him. "What?"

"Your accent," Desmond said.

"What of it?"

"Sounds like he's talking without moving his lips," Ezio chuckled. "Open your mouth when you speak," he said loudly. "Or speak with your hands. I can understand you better if you do," and he did indeed wave one hand while talking.

"Can we not do this?" Desmond groaned as they got to the parking lot. He'd rented an actual van for the day just to avoid public transport. He'd gotten them all on a bus or subway individually as they'd appeared but he didn't want to have to watch all of them at once on a subway. He knew somehow, someway, someone would get lost and he didn't want to hunt down an Assassin in a big city. Especially not these guys who could be... a bit stab happy if you bothered them too much. Well except Connor.

They all loaded into the van and Desmond reached into the center console to grab the single dose of pain killers he'd made sure to bring with him. Because he knew and had been right; by the end of this shopping trip he could feel the start of a headache. "Okay everyone buckled in?" Desmond turned around once he'd taken the pain killer. There was still some confusion about buckles for Bayek but Jacob had gotten it for him. They all gave him a thumbs up to cut down on the cacophony. "Great. Who wants lunch?" More thumbs up. "How about McDonalds?"

"What's that?" Jacob asked.

Desmond chuckled. "You'll see," he said and backed the car out of the parking spot and drove off from Goodwill.

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

Desmond was looking over rental listings drinking his morning coffee in bed. Altair and Bayek were both on a blow up mattress on the floor. He'd bought a few over the past month but there was still only so much room. It was going to be so expensive to move. Thankfully now that everyone could operate the laptop or tablet now they could input their own gig work so could do more so long as they weren't blinded by boredom. A single bedroom apartment wasn't enough for eight full grown adults.

There wasn't much reasonable in the city itself but outside the city he could rent a full house. That was doable. And about as expensive as his current apartment actually. He scrolled listings on his phone but did consider just picking a neighborhood outside of the city and calling a realtor to find him a rental house. He didn't even care what it was.

He knew it was light out because Bayek woke up. He was punctual and even with the curtains over the windows Bayek always woke up at dawn. He sat up blearily. "Coffee?" it was the one English word he could say because the word didn't exist in any language he knew. It wouldn't have been invented for another sixteen hundred years for him. Didn't mean he hadn't immediately become addicted just like everyone else.

"Full pot in the kitchen," Desmond said, sipping his mug.

Bayek got off the inflatable gingerly and left the room. Desmond didn't have the heart to tell him no matter how careful he was about it Altair always woke up after he left. On the bed Altair huffed, awake now as well. "You could just go back to sleep," Desmond said.

"No," Altair said softly and that tracked. He sat up. "Do you ever worry?"

"I grew up in the twenty first century, my entire body is just made out of anxiety," Desmond said.

Altair grimaced. "I mean why we're here?"

"Nope."

"Really?"

"Nope."

"Why not?"

"After the shit I've seen this isn't even the worst of it," Desmond said, sipping his coffee, barely paying attention to Altair.

"How is that possible?"

Desmond looked at him now. "I died, you know," he said casually, like discussing the weather. The only indication that had actually happened was his left arm was fucked up beyond belief. "And coming back from death? Nothing really bothers you," he shrugged. "Certainly not some old head mates."

"Which you won't tell us what that means," Altair said.

Desmond shrugged. "Better that way."

"So you really don't care? Why we're here? Where we came from?"

"Not even a little," Desmond was done looking at rentals. He'd just call a realtor, get them to find him a three bed two and a half bath with a yard. He switched over to Twitter. Perfect turn your brain off activity.

They sat in the dark quiet of Desmond's room for a bit. "What's it like, being dead?" Altair asked after a few minutes. Desmond didn't answer him. "Desmond?" he looked over because Altair's voice was close. He had moved to be next to Desmond's bed.

"You should know what death is like, you've killed more people than me," Desmond said off handedly.

"I've sent people to the afterlife. I've never been to one. The others have grand Catholic ideas. Bayek said he fought gods in his afterlife. But you've died. What's that like?"

"Nothing," was all Desmond said.

"It was nothing?"

"Sure. We'll go with that."

Altair scowled at him. "You're being annoyingly obtuse, young man," he growled.

Desmond looked right at him. "Don't with me," he said in a serious way. It must have been plain on his face because Altair didn't press the subject.

Light spilled in from the living room when Bayek opened the door but it was Ezio behind him who spoke up, "Desmond, Jacob drank all the coffee and there's no more left."

"I made a pot. How'd he drink an entire pot?" Desmond groaned. "Also I know you idiots know how to use the coffee machine."

"No powder," Bayek said in his Dad tie dye tank top.

Desmond sighed. "Okay I'll go to the store," he got out of bed and rummaged around for some pants. Ezio and Bayek left the doorway. "Jacob," he yelled into the main room, "you're coming with me for drinking all the coffee."

"I didn't do shit!" Jacob yelled back.

"You better be dressed when I get out there or I'm dragging your ass to the corner store in your skivies!" and it was a real threat. Desmond changed his shirt and his dead beat dad would have been so proud of him tucking his long sleeved shirt in all the time now. He didn't like it rising up when he lifted his arm, you could see the death damage on his flank too, horrible thick black veins and old burst capillaries. He also always wore a glove now.

Jacob was fuming standing in the living room when Desmond came out of the bedroom but he was fully dressed. The inflatable mattresses had been put away already and the only person with coffee was Bayek since he'd woken up first. "I didn't even drink it all," Jacob complained. "Ezio just says whatever he wants and you believe it."

"Contrary to what he thinks its because the guy can't lie to save his life. Least of all to me," Desmond said. "Now stop complaining," he pulled on his shoes.

When he opened the door to walk out he almost bumped into someone. It was a woman. She was tall for a woman with ash brown hair and old eyes wearing an insanely sharp pant suit. "Veronica?" Jacob said next to him.

"Jacob?" she said with an accent Desmond couldn't place.

"Holy shit what are you doing here?" Jacob asked.

The woman, Veronica?, looked at Desmond, then at Jacob, "That's my question." She looked over Desmond's shoulder then back at Desmond, her eyes wide in an expression just from the way she held herself Desmond took as she wasn't surprised easily. "What are they doing here?"

"Uh... they're my friends?" Desmond said, confused by the line of questioning also who the fuck was this lady? For a moment he thought she was like the others but there was no befuddlement to her, no wide eyed bewilderment. They'd all appeared looking out of time and place. She was not. She was something else.

"Who's at the door?" Ezio came around. "Ah? Maria?" he asked.

"You also recognize her?" Desmond asked.

"That's Veronica," Jacob said. Now the others were coming around.

Desmond looked at the woman who was looking right back. "You also shouldn't be here," she said and it stuck him right in the chest.

"Well that's rude," Evie said. "Don't be mean to our friend, Veronica."

"Do you all recognize this lady?" Desmond asked the Assassins and stepped back into his apartment. He felt better being surrounded by them. Whoever or whatever she was wouldn't be able to fight off seven Master Assassins.

"Of course."

"She was our friend."

"She helped me."

"She knew my father."

"She helped me complete my mission."

They all said almost at once. What the actual fuck? He'd never seen this lady in any of the memories he had but apparently they all knew her. She was a friend. They all knew her by a different name though. "What are you doing here, Melite?" Altair was the only one asking a serious question.

The woman just sort of smiled apologetically. "My name is Kassandra actually," she said. Then she looked at Desmond. "I think we need to talk."

---------

And… that’s it lol Oops sorry If you want to see other scenes maybe suggest some? We should talk about it

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theguardianwriter · 2 months ago

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Question to assassin creed fans, who and what character would you like to see interact. I have a story I'm working on about almost all the characters in the same house. Living their lives in the modern era. Chapter one is out but I like to hear what ideas or stories I should write for it.

(⁠づ⁠｡⁠◕⁠‿⁠‿⁠◕⁠｡⁠)⁠づ

#assassin creed #altaïr ibn la'ahad #ezio auditore #ratonhnhaké:ton #edward kenway #arno dorian #basim ibn ishaq #bayek of siwa #Aya #jacob frye #evie frye #Gonna add more characters further on #fanfic #fanfic idea

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damadisangue · 6 months ago

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20 questions for fic writers Thank you, @thetentaclecommander ❤️ 1. How many works do you have on AO3? 153! 95 only in Resident Evil fandom. 2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 573,764 3. What fandoms do you write for? Mainly Resident Evil, but I write also for the Arcane, Game of Thrones, Batman and Assassin's Creed Syndicate (incest) fandom. 4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? 1) The years we shared 2) Dirty little fairytale 3) Unravel me 4) Natural born sinner 5) All beauty destroyed 5. Do you respond to comments? Yes! Always! I always enjoy receiving them and being able to talk to people about the characters and their impressions of the plot. 6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? If I had to choose between those published I would say Forever is not for everyone, in which Alex suddenly dies before Albert and Wesker finds himself dealing with this sudden loneliness, as well as the hallucinations in which he sees his sister. 7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? I wanna feel you from the inside, because Albert wins and both Weskers are alive and together. 8. Do you get hate on fics? Uhm, no, not really. There were those on Twitter who commented negatively saying that I wrote incest, so I sucked, but no big deal. 9. Do you write smut? Well, obviously yes. I believe it is a fundamental aspect of a relationship and a language through which the characters can express what words do not do. 10. Do you write crossovers? Nope! 11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Uhm, as far as I know, no. 12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Yep! In Chinese and Russian! 13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? No: I don't think I would do it well. 14. What’s your all-time favorite ship? Albert and Alex Wesker. Definitely Albert and Alex. The obsession, the brutality, the blood, the incest, the mutual possession, the total and absolute control that Wesker wants to exercise, Alex's sadistic and violent streak, the fact that they are a wonderful tangle of feelings and teeth and that they bite into each other - and the ramifications that sex can take: violent, raw, brutal, or tremendously and painfully gentle, nostalgic, needy. And then Wesker infected with the Uroboros? It's clearly a wedding invitation for me. 15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? At the moment I would like to conclude a fantasy AU on Resident Evil, but it requires a very large narrative and contextualization effort - the nations, the houses, the monsters, the creatures: I'm a very precise and methodical person so it could take me a long time 16. What are your writing strengths? Uhm, I don't know... maybe the sex and the feelings? 17. What are your writing weaknesses? The description of the environments. I think it should improve. 18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? Yes. I'm Italian, so I did that for Excella. 19. First fandom you wrote for? Batman. A long time ago. 20. Favorite fic you’ve written? One, not yet published - violent and with torture, but which deeply explores the Weskers and which I will publish hopefully by the summer - and Lamb of God, for the sex scenes and the relationship between Alex and Albert. I'm not sure who to tag, so anyone can use it freely! @judasiskariot @vesperene @tacky-tramp @junotranscends @omgbarbiegurl @doctor-hannibal-wesker @irithyll-writes @joanna-lannister

#albert wesker #alex wesker #my fanfiction #resident evil #weskers #albert wesker/alex wesker #alex wesker x albert wesker #weskercest #arcane fanfic #fryecest #evie frye/jacob frye #i ship jilco and i don't care #jilco #jinx x silco #jinx/silco

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writingsofanobsessedwoman · 2 years ago

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How the Assassins (and some Templars) would be on your birthday:

Ezio Auditore

He'd likely wake you up with some morning "exercises", and take you on a stroll/ride through your favorite places

A candlelit dinner atop a building overlooking the sunset to finish the day with some fancy wine

Would give you anything you'd wanted, including but not limited to a portrait of the two of you done by Leonardo (you'd thank the little artist later)

Rose petals leading up to your room

Leonardo Da Vinci

Honestly, he's the type to just let you lead the day. Shopping? He's there with you paying for what he can. A boat ride? Of course!

Would be sweet the whole day, holding your hand with a dopey little grin as he followed you

Flowers, your favorite chocolates, art supplies if you're that way inclined

Connor Kenway

You're very special to him, and he makes you feel it on your birthday

He'd get someone to make you a cake (he tried and nearly burnt the house down in the process)

Flowers by your bedside as he woke you up with sweet kisses

He'd go to town with you if you really wanted to go

Or ride around the homestead all day and show you some beautiful places he's found

Wouldn't let you do any work for the day

He'd end it all by holding you close as he gifted you a little carved animal (your favorite), and a necklace he'd bought one day with your favorite stone set in it

Edward Kenway

Would also wake you up with "exercise"

He'd sail around with you, letting you tell him where to go

He may even let you steer the Jackdaw for a bit

You'll likely not remember much, as you'll be drunk for most of the night

Would give you all kinds of jewelry the he's obtained on his voyages

James Kidd/Mary Read

They're a romantic through and through. And extravagant

Would wake you up sweetly, but it'd turn spicy

Down to do whatever you want, be it a picnic or drinking at a pub, they're happy

Gifts would be thoughtful, plus some jewelry and the like

Shay Patrick Cormac

See morning "exercise"

A romantic, Shay would have the whole day planned out for you

He'd sail you somewhere nice, and have a home-cooked meal awaiting somewhere quiet

Would take you back to the fort for a surprise party with a small band of folk playing music

Liam O'Brien

Assuming he isn't gone off on a mission, he'd likely take you shooting with him

He'd buy you sweets and just be sweet the whole day

Would dance with you in a clearing somewhere

His gifts would probably be practical, like some new gloves or something

Haytham Kenway

Prepare to feel like royalty for a day

He'd spare no expense for your birthday

The best food, the finest imported wine, best clothing he could find, all of it's yours

Don't think about lifting a finger, either

Breakfast in bed, followed by an extravagant ball in your honor

Jacob Frye

CHAOS from the moment your eyes opened

Tried to make you breakfast, set it on fire

Takes you around London

A surprise dinner (the Rooks set it up for him) on top of Big Ben

Would get Evie to help him with some flowers

You'd end up drunk, laughing, and happy

My birthday is the 28th this month (December), so this is my gift to myself. If you want anyone added, let me know. These are all kinda short, sorry. I've got a heck of a migraine at the moment. Probably doing some for the Red Dead boys next. And yes, I used gender neutral pronouns for James/Mary. Sue me

#assassin's creed rogue #shay cormac x reader #shay patrick cormac #ac rogue liam #jacob frye #ezio auditore #assassins creed #assassin's creed #assassins creed syndicate #haytham kenway #fanfic #birthday fic #a heifer is tired

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xreader-obsessions · 9 months ago

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Summary: The story of how you find out your best friend is an assassin. Jacob Frye x Reader Part 1 Part 2

Finding out that Jacob was involved in a fighting ring just made you more curious about your friend and who he was. Based on his skill in fighting and the money he made off of it, you wondered if it was his full time job.

Come to think of it, you met his twin sister before, who you got alone wonderfully with, but no one else from his family. And evertime you offered to visit, he always canceled so you never got to know where he lived. You never pushed too hard for answers to respect his boundaries, but your curiosity was starting to drive you mad.

Your determination and confusion was only fuled when you found a mysterious letter on your doorstep one morning.

"You've never seen the real Jacob Frye. If you truly wish to know who he is, you must see him in the town. Go to the alley between the housing and factory on Jackson street at 8:00 pm if you want to see his true colors."

A carriage waited for you on the main street outside of your house hidden away from curious eyes. Then when you felt it was time, you made your way behind the industrial building. It was the loud shady area of town that you last visited with Jacob. This place was dirty, loud and frightening. Dark shadows fell on every corner and the deafening clanking sounds from the working factory kept you on edge. Maybe that was why you paid no attention to the first figure that scrambled and stumbled into the alley ahead of you.

He was afraid and held his hands up in defense and fear. You paid him little attention until someone you knew stepped into the flickering light of the gas lamps. Jacob.

Jacob gripped the pleading man by the front of his shirt and light reflected off the brass knuckles Jacob wore as he raised his fist to him. Logically you knew you did not have the full picture, that there must have been something else going on to justify what you were witnessing, but your heart said otherwise.

"Jacob?" You called out to him in a weak, questioning voice and hoped he did not react. You wanted it to be a case of mistaken identity, but it was not.

"(y/n)!" Jacob looked up at you in shock, his mouth was hung open and his eyes were wide. The expression immediately vanished when the man he attacked bolted down the alley. Jacob froze, unable to decide whether he should stay and face you or catch his target.

"Who sent you here?" He demanded then immediately changed the subject, "You can get in a lot of trouble for being seen here with me. Please, just leave." Worry seeped into his voice when he asked you to leave, but before you could make your decision, he himself ran off into the maze of alleyways.

Jacob avoided you for days after the incident. You patiently waited on him to feel ready to confront the topic, but your patience wore thin. This went on for three days until you became determined to see the man who wrote you the letter. His name was Maxwell Roth,the owner of one of the nearby factory districts. You recalled hearing Jacob talk about him before to Evie and from what you over heard, he was Jacob's business partner.

Maxwell Roth's office sat on the top floor of his manufacturing factory. Since you were never invited to the factory, you worried over how your unwelcomed arrival would stand with the man of questionable character. So you stood outside the carriage that was parked in the docking area of the factory. It seemed appropriate since all the carriages carrying shipments to and from this building stayed there. You took a deep breath, asked the driver to wait on you for a half hour at most and proceed towards the front door.

It was actually a sliding bay door that was as large as a wall and, thanks to the wheels that were attached to it, slid open when you pushed it. Beyond the wall was a mess of fire, smoke and sweat.

The ringing and clanging sound of iron striking iron was so loud workers had to shout to each other just to be heard. Strong men covered in sweat labored over shaping metal with heavy hammers and sparks flew at them with every hit.

Small children with soot covered faces ran around the factory floor to complete their assigned tasks. Others shoveled piles of dark coal into furnaces that belched out dark pillars of smoke. Metal rafters criss-crossed high above your head and added to the massive size of the building. The ceiling and rafters were so high above your head, you had to look up to even notice them.

You wandered up a set of narrow, but massively tall stairs that ran along the front of the left wall. They lead up to a small looking office that had windows covering the upper half of every wall so the manager could always keep an eye on his workers. Even though it seemed impossible for anyone to notice you among the chaos of the floor, you quickly ascended the stairs and was spotted.

The boss resided in the office, sitting behind a large desk with a smug smile as he waited on you to enter the room. He obviously knew you were coming after all.

"Mr. Roth" you politely greeted from the doorway before stepping in, "I came here regarding the letter you sent me a few days ago. I did not expect you to manage your workers so poorly."

He stood and chuckled at your naive expectations and your guts for having your opening statement be so rude and rejecting. His lack of communication angered you and you chose to speak for him in an attempt to get him to talk.

"Jacob. He works against you doesn't he?" You questioned bluntly after piecing everything together. Maybe Jacob worked with this man at one point in time, but there was no way he would tolerate this type of business.

"Yes he does. He attacks my industry, kills my best men. All to sabotage our work. "

"Based off what I've seen here. It seems he's doing the right thing. You make children slaves, create deadly work spaces for your people and ignore their needs and further the poverty in this town. You need to be stopped."

"I work against Starrick just like him. We should be partners!" He objected, "but simple people like you and that rat don't seem to understand that. Besides, if Jacob was doing such good work, why would he hide it? We all know he doesn't want you or anyone to know about his work. I must say he's done quite well at keeping the two separate. You're the only person he knows that I've been able to track down after all. Besides his sister."

"That's why you sent me the letter? To expose him and have me betray him? To make me believe he is as evil as you?"

"Oh, I had more in mind than just that." He said with a smile as he drummed his fingers along the desk. "It lured you out of his safety, which is more than I could have asked for." Alarm bells went off in your head as you realized this whole conversation was made to stall and distract you. By the time you turned around there was already a large figure blocking the doorway.

He reached for your arm, but you quickly moved it away and punched the hulking man right in the throat. Out of breath and confused by the sudden turn of events, he became an easy guard to slip past.

Your dress was restrictive enough to slow you down as you raced to the carriage, but not enough to let you get caught. Due to the extra fabric that fell in front of your feet, it was also very easy to trip on if you miss stepped as you weaved your way through the active working floor.

Thankfully, your driver was alert and sped off the moment you were in the carriage. The momentum caused you to fall in your seat and everything jostled from side to side. You were successfully out pacing the goons when your driver was attacked. He fell off the stand and tumbled down the road as the horses charged on from fear. The carriage was now out of control.

Immediately you leaned out of the carriage and gripped the ledge that was above the door way and found footholds along the bottom of it. While gripping onto the jerking vehicle with every ounce of strength you had, you shimmied along the carriage till you were up front. You refused to look down while moving, for the blurring ground was only a reminder of how fast you were moving and even though it was not at the speed of a train, it was terrifying.

You placed yourself behind the reigns and pulled on them while talking softly to the animals. They slowed but were still panicked and uncontrollable as they whined and pulled from the direction you guided them in. Soon, they calmed down with the help of your soft voice, and once you regained control, you pulled the whole carriage around towards the fight.

You placed the carriage protectively in front of your driver and jumped down from the bench. His leg was wounded, and his body was bruised from the fall. Scratches lined the sides of his arms, and blood ran down them as he used them to protect himself. Slinging his arm around your neck, you helped him into the carriage as your enemies surged forward.

You jumped back into your carriage before the enemy could grab you and sped down the road once again. It still felt impossible for you to have full control over the carriage's movements and you had to remind yourself that you were controlling animals, not a machine. It was overwhelming with the wind in your face and sounds you could not tune out.

You swerved as a carriage collided with the back side of your own. You struggled to keep straight and avoid hitting pedestrians while you were pushed further and further towards the building walls along the right edge of the road. At this point, it was almost too late to fight back since there was no wiggle room, but you tried.

You pulled your reigns harshly to the left, the horses whined in surprise and your carriage jerked left with enough force to move your opponent. Then you repeated your actions without giving them time to recover, causing a wheel to break under the stress and immobilizing the enemy vehicle. The victory was short lived as two other carriages replaced the decommissioned one.

Since they could easily wedge you between each other and make sandwich you, you decided to run. The horses darted forward at your command and kept a fast pace. You locked your eyes on the road ahead and refused to look back as the thugs gloating and yells plagued you. They were closing in, and it was a reality you did not want to witness until you heard a figure fall onto your carriage's roof.

You did your best to steady your breath and remain calm as the hijacker only came closer to you. The fear only increased as he sat next to you and revealed himself to be your missing friend. You were not ready to face him after everything you just learned, and the anger etched in his handsome features was not helping ease your worry.

He seemed to take his anger out on his environment. He took the reigns from you and slammed the side of your carriage into one of the enemy's until they were driven off the road. Then, you heard the sound of gunshots and instinctively bowed your head. Jacob did not though. He went rigid then looked over his shoulder to see where they were coming from.

He studied the figures behind him, then spotted a passenger on the last carriage that was running them down. He threw the reigns back into your hands, giving you control over the carriage once again, and order you to steady it along the other.

Without question you did as he asked as he returned to the roof. With a running leap, he landed on the other cart, pulled one man from his seat to throw him to the road and stabbed the driver so he too fell. The carriage began to swerve now under the frightened horses' control. Instead of taking it over, he returned to the carriage you steadied, took the reigns, and sat in silence as he drove.

You had never been so afraid of the man's calm and calculated rage. He never gave you a reason to fear him before. But now that you did, tension and fright weighed down on you as you sat next to him in silence the whole ride home. You did not dare say a word as he was left quiet and stewing in his own anger. Thinking over everything he was going to say to you the whole ride. He felt his anger and frustration keep building onto itself until you arrived at the train hideout where he would let loose.

"I told you!" Jacob cut himself off feeling overcome with anger, "I told you to leave this alone."

"Don't you dare blame this on me," you shot back with just as much venom in your voice, "The only reason I was even there tonight was because you just left and it worried me," your words quieted Jacob's anger as he absorbed the meaning of your words. "I was looking for some type of rational explanation for what I saw you do in that alley. So sorry if my actions seemed a little rash, but at least he was offering to help."

"Help? You didn't even know who he really was!" You fell silent, feeling hurt by him calling you ignorant. "You just looked for your answers, not caring who you were trusting to get them."

"What's going on over here?" Evie questioned as she entered the train car. You took her distracting entrance as an opportunity to wipe tears from your eyes and calm your beating heart.

"She knows." Jacob replied simply with annoyance lining his voice.

"About what?"

"About us...Evie. This whole thing. Roth told her everything."

"Technically, I don't know everything. Just that you've been killing blighters and other men." You stated then whisper to the side, "which I am not entirely against since they're mad men."

Evie just shook her head in sane disappointment and gestured for you to sit down by pointing to a booth seat. You listened, arms still crossed and your body still tense. You glared at Jacob like a pouty child. Maybe you would feel ashamed if he was not doing the same thing to you.

"Both of you need to stop your bickering first off and figure out what really happened." Jacob attempted to cut off his sister but was quickly shut down, "Why don't you start (y/n). Seeing Jacob here cannot hold his tongue."

"Well, Evie. I started getting mysterious letters that I now know were from Maxwell Roth. I knew I should have ignored them, but they promised me answers to things about you and Jacob I had to know....then one came with an address on it."

"So you just start trusting to meet any stranger on the street?"

"Jacob!" Evie barked at him sharply, causing the young man to pull back. Evie then changed her tone to address you, "Roth manipulated you then. Used your curiosity against you?"

"Yes," you admitted in shame, "I came across Jacob fighting men in an alley. I left before I saw too much and didn't want to believe what I saw. I knew there was more to the situation, but Jacob disappeared on me. And Roth promised to tell me what happened that night, and I was desperate to clear his name." Jacob's eyes shot up towards you in surprise, and his guard lowered. Not many people gave a ruff looking man like him a second chance.

"He wanted to meet me at his factory today. So I went. He told me Jacob was killing his 'innocent' workers and tried to turn me on him. When I wouldn't, he sent men to kidnap me or worse. I ran, then Jacob appeared and....saved me."

"And Jacob, what did you see?" Evie asked.

"I saw her at the factory grounds. Getting into a fight she didn't belong in just because she was curious and too trusting." Anger still resonated in his voice and his arms tensed as he clenched his fists. "I saw her commandeer a run away carriage with men chasing after her."

"So you're upset at him for ignoring you and you're upset at her for being in danger. But it seems to me if you were honest to her, she wouldn't be in danger." An odd sense of pride washed over you as she supported your side of the story, "but (y/n) you shouldn't have been so foolish to fall for this trap."

"It's not like I knew I was getting into something this risky." You fought back. Jacob stood to his feet and paced as he mumbled curses, annoyed by your insolence.

"I'll tell you everything. Jacob and even I are a part of a clandestine organization. We're assassins. Our purpose is to restore peace, order, and freedom to this city's people. We are working with the Rooks and other officials and our work has changed this place more than you know."

"So you kill bad people in order to help change the oppressive hold or influence corrupt people might have on the city?"

"Yes. And the man you met tonight, Maxwell is an ex-Templar and one of our main enemies."

"He mentioned someone named Starrick. Said you both worked against him. Is he a Templar as well?"

"Yes. We can go over more in the morning if you want to stay the night."

"I'll make sure the Rooks know she's on our side," Jacob stated before quickly leaving the train car and entering the next one.

Evie was much more caring about being a good host to you. She grabbed extra blankets and a pillow from compartments that were hidden through the train and made a temporary bed for you on one of the plush train seats. She also gave you a tour and showed you where to grab some food if you got hungry. She also advised you on which cars to avoid, as they were used as bedrooms for herself and one for her brother.

The train felt endless as you walked from car to car, making you realize the scale at which the two assassins are working at to own so much. To put it simply, they were rich and earned that money through their grim deeds.

You decided to turn in early for the night, your mind swimming in new information that maybe you would be better prepared to understand in the morning.

#jacob frye x reader #x reader #fanfic #assassins creed fanfic

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demigoddessqueens · 2 years ago

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love letters

read on ao3 // ongoing series

Love of my life,

How you captivate my heart and mind even when you are away. Seeing the lovers prepare for the upcoming does make you miss you, as I must admit.

The sun setting on London’s skyline reminds me of you. All of our escapades and sneaking away just to have moments for ourselves.

It’s different without you here, but I always see and feel you in my heart.

Come home.

Your sweetest,

Jacob Frye

#assassin's creed #jacob frye syndicate #assassin’s creed x reader #ac syndicate #my writing #fanfic #jacob frye #writeblr #love letters #valentine’s day #jacob frye x reader #assassin’s creed syndicate

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vadlings · 1 year ago

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the memories of the boy i’ve been (801 words) by vadlings

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Ethan Frye & Jacob Frye, Evie Frye & Jacob Frye, Ethan Frye & Evie Frye & Jacob Frye Characters: Jacob Frye, Ethan Frye, Evie Frye Additional Tags: Character Study, Emotional Baggage, Bad Parenting, Family, Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, Jacob Frye Has ADHD

Summary:

Before Ethan, it had been just him, Evie, and their grandmother. Obviously they’d competed, but nothing like they did later on, when every word of praise to Evie and look of disapproval to Jacob felt like the driving force of the rift growing fast between them.

#ok. this is my first time posting fanfic online and im really nervous but i do want to write more like even if just for myself. onwards etc #jacob frye #ethan frye #evie frye #assassins creed syndicate #assassin's creed syndicate #ac syndicate #ac #fic #fanfiction #clay writes #anyway what happened was that i came across this deactivated user who had apparently done like. a bunch of longform character studies #and had also written some fic as well. but bc they had deleted everything i couldnt access any of it #so i was like damn there is so little ac syndicate stuff so that is unfortunate. i guess one does have to be the change they want to see in #the world. and then the dexamfetamine kicked in

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aiza-luna · 6 months ago

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Assassin's Creed - Syndicate Drabble: Nightly Chat

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"You know? Maybe my stay in London won't be so bad after all..."

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Hello, Hello, everyone! This is Aiza here, once again, this time, bringing something a bit different... A little draft I did of my AC: Syndicate AU and showing a bit more of my OC for the game! I hope you guys enjoy it since is my first time posting a small writting of mine, here! 🥹🩵

Without further ado, let's go!

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The darkness of the London's sky was comforting... At least at that moment. The cool breeze hitted her face, moving her braid softly against the wind.

Her dark copper hair glowed under the faint moonlight that timidly shined through the dark clouds. The weather was always so dark, so cloudly... Was it because of the constant smokes coming from the factories? Or simply the natural disposition of London's climate? She couldn't tell...

She kept cleaning her blade. The red hankchief she carried helping to hide the blood trail. The silver-colored weapon returning to it's shimering with every stroke she performed in it.

"... Y así pasan los días

Y yo desesperando

Y tu, tu contestando

Quizás, quizás, quizás...

... Estas perdiendo el tiempo

Pensando, pensando

Por lo que mas tu quieras

Hasta cuándo, hasta cuándo..."

The woman started to hum idly as she completed her task, her voice was of a Mezzosoprano tone, singing in a melodic but quiet pace.

So immersed on her work, she didn't noticed the light steps approaching her by her back in the cold rooftop. And she would have imediatly draw her blade on the stranger's throat, if it wasn't for the voice she quickly recognized.

- What are you doing here, little Hoopoe? - Spoke a male voice with an english accent, to which made her lower her guard and turn to face him. She looked a bit startled, and annoyed, but relieved it was a familiar face.

- I just needed a moment for myself, Mr. Frye... - The Spanish woman started, raising an eyebrow at him. - ... What are you doing here? Do not tell me you were indulging on those pubs again. -

The woman asked, knowing the Assassin's habit of drinking with his gang members until the late hours. And considering their expantion over London has been quite succeful those days, she was pretty sure he had been out drinking.

Her only reply was a humorous laugh, as he standed besides her, looking down at her as she was sitted in the edge of the rooftop.

- Is that how you see me? As a drunk scoundrel that only 'indulges himself on those pubs'? I feel hurt. - Jacob asked with a sarcastic and playful tone, smirking as he watched the Spaniard's cheeks heat up and gain a faint shade of red, barely visible with her olive complexion and the dim light of the street lights.

- ... You know that is not what I meant... - Solange argued in a murmur, visibly embarassed to have possibly offended him and not following the proper politeness she was taught.

Jacob sitted besides her, taking a look in the view and then at her, before speaking again.

- And you still haven't awnser my question, little Hoopoe. - He pointed out, seeing how vague her reply was, and how strange it was to find her at that hour. It was usual for him and Evie to roam the streets at the late night, but Solange? She usually would spend her evenings indulging herself in those pompous (and awfully demanding) social events of the high-class.

- Wouldn't you preffer to spend your "time for yourself" in your aunt's estate? I believe a warm long bath and the bed of the guest's room would be much more enjoyable than feel the cold night wind while sitting in a dirty rooftop. - The British Assassin commented in a light manner, in his typical charming manner.

Always a charmer, always charismatic...

...Was he always like this? It was both irritating and heart-lighting... Solange envied how well would he take things. How he always had this smooth-talker way of dealing with everything. This captivating energy that neither She nor the Evie had.

- ... Believe me, Mr. Frye... Is nothing. - The Spanish Assassin commented in a serious tone, before sighing heavily. - Starrick's influence in the British court is more than we expected... -

She started with a more firm tone, making the British man frown besides her. - What did you found? -

Solange mimicked his face expression, looking at her blade.

- James Brownlow William Gascoyne-Cecil, the Marquess of Salisbury, is another noble that is joining the Templars. - The Spanish Lady informed, her expression more worried. - We also suspect Lord Wensleydale may be connected to Starrick. Not as a member, but as an ally... Two nobles and a Judge. -

The Assassin concluded worried, clearly impressed that would be more Templars inside the court than just the Earl of Cardigan.

- Starrick is securing his strings in the Parlament too. - Jacob concluded with a more serious and somber voice, the brunette only nodded.

- I believe Starrick also have plans for my uncle, Tía Desirée is trying to use that in her advantage to approach and discover their true intentions. - The Spanish Assassin explained her family's course of action, placing her red hankchief on her lap.

- But in all honesty? I just did not wish to take part in tonight's gathering...- She commented quietly, looking down at the streets. The other Assassin looked at her surprised.

- What? Why? I thought you enjoyed "spending the night dancing your fears always and hoping to find a gentleman to wed."- Jacob commented with a smile, remembering what he heard his partner-in-Creed commenting with her aunt while he and his sister visited their estate. Solange chuckled and held her hands together.

- You're correct. However, is not that I do not like the events, is just that... - The Spaniard started, but her voice died down, as did her gaze. Jacob looked at her, eager for her to continue her phrase. - ... My aunt was trying to find me another suitor. Edward Marjoribanks, the son of the Baron Tweedmouth. -

She revealed, sounding a bit more nervous. Jacob looked at her confused.

- Well, aren't those good news? - He asked, his voice still laced with puzzlement. - You wished for a suitor, doesn't that overjoy you? - The British asked, going straight to the point.

Sometimes, his directness was a bit disconcerting.

- Yes, it was... - Solange confirmed in a tensed tone, before she let out a deep sigh. -... I know I should not oppose to this, and heavens knows how lucky I am a man even try to show interest in me while being... Una defectuosa enferma. - She murmured the last part with bitterness, although despite being in her mother-tongue, by the frown on his face, it was clear Jacob had heard it as well, despite not understanding the words exactly, he could recognize the tone. - But I... I simply do not know. - The brunette concluded in agony.

Jacob frown, still not really understanding.

- You do not know if you wish to wed him? - He asked, and the girl nodded.

- Do not get me wrong, he seems like a good gentleman, but... I simply do not wish to marry him. - She stated in a sad tone. - I... I know a marriege with him would be of great help for the Assassins, and would help strenght our influence inside the Parlament, but I... - She started to explain her thoughts, until she was stopped.

By the Assassin besides her, that had a clear frown and a face of disapproval in his face.

- Oi! Listen to me - Jacob started, sounding weirdly serious. A jarring contrast of his usual carefree tone. - You do not have to marry some Boujee to help the Brotherhood! We can overthrow Starrick without locking you on a Marital Prison! - He stated. Despite his tone becoming a tid more playful in the end, she could still feel the seriousness of his words.

He mean it. He really meant every word he spoke... She didn't knew wether to feel touched by his concern for her opinion, or she pitied him for not knowing the prices of the high-class. Solange sighed once more.

- Mr. Frye, I appreacite your words, truly... - She started, her voice calm and collected as ever, despite her hint of sadness. -... But I know my responsabilities, as my status demand...-

- Solange. - He started, calling her by her name, knowing this would get her full attention. - Before being a Noble, before being an Assassin, you're a bloody person. - Jacob affirmed seriously, even if his tone was not harsh. But it was evident that he hated that.

He hated to see how much Solange would put herself down, beat herself for not fitting what was expected of her... And mostly importantly, he hated how she was ready to sacrifice herself to fullfil those expectations. He couldn't stand it. He couldn't.

- Please, listen to yourself. To what you are saying! Do you believe trapping youself to an unhappy relationship is worth it? We can fight Starrick, and we will free London. - Jacob said with confidence, as to inspire her. - You do not have to go to such limits for the sake of a "good alternative". -

She looked at him. For the first time, the honey-colored eyes met his hazel ones... And she smiled. A simple, timid but sincere smile. Despite the layers of make-up that covered her disease, her face seemed to glow in gratitude.

-... I can not run from courtship forever, Mr. Frye... - The Spanish Assassin argued, her tone sounding more soft, even relaxed, as she spoke now. Jacob smiled slightly, looking at the scenary.

- Why do you insist so much on this, Lady Cotoner? - The British Assassin asked, with curiosity in his voice. He knew noblewomen usually married off early, but the way she took it so desperatly, definetly felt a bit... Strange, to not say obssessive, to him. - Wouldn't you rather wait until our mission is over to look for a man to betrothed you? -

Solange's eyes quickly shifted towards the street, as she bit her bottom lip light, in a discreet nervous gesture.

- Yo... - She started, her tone hesitant and heavy. -... I'm not like the other ladies, Mr. Frye... - The brunette stated, her voice disappointed and quiet. -... I fear no men will desire to wed a woman like me, for something I carry. - She concluded in a short and simple manner, clearly not wanting to elaborate the topic further.

Jacob looked at her for a few moments in silence. He wanted to ask her more about this "thing" she "carried with her", but he could also feel how that bothered her... And he did not wished to make her uncomfortable. Specially at that hour.

- Lady Cotoner... - He started, his voice sounding understanding and sympathetic. - We may have only known each other for a few days, but, if I may say: I found you an incredibly capable and beautiful woman. - Jacob said, his tone full of sincerity and animosity. - I cannot imagine a man on his right mind, specially a noble one, rejecting your hand to be claimed. -

Despite their differences and personalities, Jacob admired Solange. The Spanish Lady was a kind, sweet soul as much as she was a deadly Assassin. Her devotion, her understanding nature, her curiosity... Jacob admired them. And he did considered the Spaniard a friend, despite not knowing if the feeling was mutual.

At his words, Solange looked at him surprised, her mouth slightly agape and her eyes bright in desbelief and flattering... Did he really mean it? She hoped, deep down, he did. That those weren't just words of consolation, but of sincere admirament.

Once again, she smiled a soft smile, a hint of blush in olive her cheeks by the flattering his words caused on her... Her expression softned.

- Thank you for your words, Mr. Frye... - She started, her elegant voice filled with gratitude for such caring words directed at her. Then, she stood up slowly, looking at the sky. -... We should better go, is getting late and we will continue our moviments early morning. - She stated casually, feeling the wind move her royal-blue coat and hood against it.

Jacob smiled, as he stood up, but he did not walked towards her.

- Will you meet us in the train? - He asked, already knowing the awnser. This was becoming a routine since they had defeated Keylock and as she introduced herself as another Assassin from the Spanish Brotherhood.

- Yes, as always. - Solange confirmed in a more content tone, standing in the edge of the rooftop, before turning slightly back towards him. - Oh, and Mr. Frye... - She started, catching the British's attention, as he raised an eyebrow, waiting for her next words. - ... I also find you a capable Assassin... And a great leader. - The Spaniard stated in a warm tone, smiling to him, as she said "Good Night" and jumped off to another rooftop, running and moving in the night swiftly as a shadow.

Jacob smiled to himself, feeling the familiar cool breeze of London, and the smell of heavy smoke from the chimneys as he watched her disappear in the darkness of the night . - Good Night, little Hoope. -

════ ⋆★⋆ ════════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

✨ CREDITS TIME! ✨

Writting Inspirations: @nemo-of-house-hamartia @thatcrazycrowgirl

Images: From Pinterest.

Characters:

• Master Assassin Solange Cotoner (OC by Yours Truly 🩵)

• Master Assassin Jacob Frye (By Ubisoft)

Universe: Assassin's Creed Syndicate (By Ubisoft)

Themes: Nightly talk, friendly-chat, historical references, just two (future lovers) having a light talk, self-esteem issues hinted, begining of the Syndicate story.

Thank you so much for reading! 🩵

════ ⋆★⋆ ════════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

#assassin's creed #assassin's creed oc #Solange Cotoner #My OC #Drabble #Scene concept #not sure is going to be canon but I had in my mind for a while #Anyways slight introduction to my Spanish girly ?#Patootie and Dork having a casual chat after she murdered some Blighters in the streets #Jacob is probably OOC but I TRIED-#I need to polish writting him dang #jacob frye #assassin's creed syndicate #ac syndicate #AC Fanfic #OC x Canon #Jacob Frye x Solange Cotoner #Solob #The Rook and the Hoopoe

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thefangirlthatwaited · 5 months ago

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Eden (Chapter 14) - A Assassins Creed Syndicate Story

Jacob Frye x OC

“Eden?” Jacob whispered, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Are you alright?”

“N-No.” I stuttered.

Jacob turned to the recruits. “We will continue this tomorrow, thank you,” he said, and they dispersed. Jacob came over and lowered my arms before pulling me off to the side to sit.

“Eden, what’s wrong.”

I looked away, embarrassed. “I am terrified of heights,” I admitted, my voice barely a whisper.

He laughed, thinking I was joking, and then he saw the serious look on my face. “You aren’t joking.”

“No.”

“How are you afraid of heights? I have seen you jump out of a second-story window and zipline off a train on a boat on the Thames.”

I groaned, face falling into my hands. “Those were all life or death moments; trust me, I thought of how high I was.”

“What about your initiation? One of the things we must do is jump from a high distance.”

I tensed, knowing I had to ruin my father’s reputation. “My father was the one who did my initiation, and we lied; I never jumped.”

I braced myself for Jacob’s outrage. Instead, he laughed.

“So you got your father, the great Ezio Auditore, to lie for you. Well done.” I smacked Jacob for the sarcasm. “I was going to do it later on. We were so desperate for recruits, we figured we would work on it later, but it never happened.”

Jacob pulled me close, his voice filled with determination. He lifted my chin to meet his gaze. “Well, love, I’m going to make you face your fears. There’s no getting around it with me. You want to help me and teach the recruits; you need to do this.” He grabbed my hand, his touch firm yet gentle.

I sighed in defeat. “I figured...”

Jacob stood and held out his hand for me to take. “Baby steps,” he promised. We started small, jumping off one-story buildings, and slowly moved to our final goal: Big Ben.

My heart was pounding as we stood at the base of the tower. “It has to be today,” I asked, looking to the top.

“It has been two weeks, Eden. You have to face your fears. I’ll be right behind you.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

I took a deep breath, my heart racing, and shot the launcher. It hooked to the rail at the top, and I pulled myself up, my muscles straining. I remembered to breathe as I continued my ascent, the wind whipping through my hair. I let out a whistle of appreciation as I reached the top, the view stretching out before me in all its glory.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Jacob asked when he joined me.

“It is.”

“Now comes the harder part,” Jacob said, looking at the ground below. I shouldn’t have done that. I looked down at the hay bail, and everything started to spin. My fear took over, and I lost my grip on the railing, my body beginning to fall.

“EDEN!” Jacob’s cry was the last I heard before everything went dark.

I woke later in bed, with Jacob sitting at my side. When I tried to sit up, pain radiated from my right arm, causing me to scream out in pain.

Jacob jolted away, looking around for the danger till he saw me holding my arm. “Eden love, lay back down, please.” He helped me lie back down before grabbing some water and medicine.

“What happened, Jacob?” I asked as he helped me take my meds.

His face sunk, full of sadness and regret. “You fell from the top of Big Ben.” He explained.

Full Chapter on Ao3

#archive of our own #ao3 #jacob frye fanfic #jacob frye story #jacob frye x oc #jacob frye #assassins creed syndicate #assassins creed fanfic #assassins creed syndicate fanfic

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kiatheinsomniac · 1 year ago

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.・✫・゜・。. ｡⋆ʚ[ 𝐊𝐎-𝐅𝐈 𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐔𝐏! ]♡⃛ɞ

──── 𝐔𝐏𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 ˊˎ - ☾ ⋆ ﾟ𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 / 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: jun. 2023: top supporter @havatnah 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Jacob Frye x Reader 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 1k 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: alcohol consumption

The two of you get inside after a mission that almost went terribly wrong. Your clothes from the knees-down are completely soaked through, your boots making an irritating squelching sound with each and every step you make. Meanwhile, Jacob is covered in sawdust and the two of you reek of smoke.

Did the boat full of Blighter contraband blow up? Yes. But were you successful in your mission to give the Rooks an upper hand by destroying said contraband? Yes. Though, the two of you certainly needed to clean up now.

Not wanting to track all of your mess through the train hideout, you’ve booked a room at an inn for the night and the both of you are already looking forward to having some drinks in the pub on the ground floor beneath your feet once you’ve had the chance to freshen up. It’s been a long day and the two of you are just craving a few drinks to unwind while you chat and enjoy a more peaceful evening before going to bed.

While Jacob lights the fireplace, you’re quick to tug off your soggy boots and socks in order to go on to peel off your wet trousers. As you do so, Jacob comes up behind you to set his hands around your waist and hold you steady so that you don’t lose your balance. Really, he knows that you’re agile from so many years of being an assassin but he just wants the opportunity to be a gentleman with you. Jacob knows that he’s rough around the edges and you’re not exactly society’s ideal of a meek, delicate woman with the occupation you have but he doesn’t see you as any less of a lady for it and it’s his belief that you most certainly deserve to be treated as one.

He knows you’re capable of getting yourself out of a carriage but he offers you his hand anyway. He knows you don’t need help to carry cases or heavy bags but he takes them from you to bear the weight himself anyway. He knows that you have a hood to keep yourself dry. But you should still take his coat to lay over your shoulders too. He can handle the cold and rain but you shouldn’t have to do the same.

You’ve had to pick up a fresh pair of clothes to change into while you were on your way to this inn with Jacob alongside you. It’s merely a simple Rook’s uniform and Jaocb has had to collect one for himself too. Jacob runs a bath for himself and you can hear the splashing of water as he gets in and begins cleaning himself. Meanwhile, you set your wet boots and trousers up on a rack by the fire to dry as you take the blanket from the room’s bed and wrap it around yourself, sitting in the armchair beside the fireplace.

You listen to the quiet pitter-patter of water dripping from your clothes and onto the floor, drawing your eyes towards it. You had been moments away from falling into the river when you were leaping from the remains of the boat and towards the dock. The debris you had been floating on sank under the pressure of your jump more than you had anticipated and it wasn’t until you were in the air and it was too late that you realised it.

But Jacob had been there, reaching out to grab your arm and pull you up. Admittedly, it had hurt to suddenly have your arm yanked on like that but you were alright now and it had saved you from completely falling into the river, only allowing your legs to fall in just below your knees. Jacob, already covered in sawdust from the packaging of a nearby box when the explosion went off, had pulled you up onto the dock as you watched the remainder of the boat sink into the Thames.

You take your turn to bathe after Jacob and soon the two of you are dressed in your borrowed Rooks’ uniforms and are heading downstairs for a few drinks after a long day. But you don’t stay for very long, feeling tired after the day’s events, and you soon head back to your room, warm and merry with alcohol. Jacob is the first to flop onto the bed that’s a little rickety but not unexpected for the price you’re paying to stay here. He lays back, one arm tucked behind his head for comfort while he opens the other one up to you invitingly.

You crawl into his arms and curl against his chest as he wraps his arm around you and holds you close, delighting in the warmth of your body against his. Oh, how he adores you. He leans down to kiss the top of your head and pet your hair with the hand that he had invited you into bed with.

He untucks his other arm from behind your head to sling over your waist as he gives you a little squeeze just to really feel you in his hold. Then, a sly smile creeps onto his lips and you let out a cry that turns into a fit of laughter when his fingers dig into your ribs and he begins to tickle you. You hit your fist against his chest as you giggle and squeal when he rolls his weight onto you so that you can’t escape his tickling.

You manage to wrench one of your arms free and so you use it to wiggle your fingers against Jacob’s neck in order to give him a taste of his own medicine. You laugh from amusement this time when his chin immediately snaps down to press against his chest in an attempt to defend his neck from your reach.

“Alright! Alright! I surrender!” He yields through laughs as he pulls you close once more and sets a kiss upon the crown of his head. You relax tiredly into his arms as you gaze up at him momentarily.

Oh, how you love this man.

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