#shay cormac x you

[emperor-palpaminty]

Storms

I’m replaying Rogue and Shay’s voice is literally addictive so have an AC rogue fic because I am having feelings for Shay Patrick Cormac

F!Reader, no use of y/n or “you”

She curled up on the windowsil, staring out at the winds harassing the trees. This time of year and this close to the coast often resulted in brutal storms. She shuddered, pulling the knitted blanket more around herself, watching the grey clouds roll in. 

Her head snapped towards the door as it shuddered and opened, the tall figure dropping the fire wood by the entry way. “Ah, it’s far too cold out there.” He shrugged off his black coat as she stood, the blanket pulling closer. Shay looked over and smiled briefly. “Perhaps if I had a pair of arms to warm me up, lass.”

The woman chuckled and nodded. She was fully dressed, but still cold, or at least cold enough to put on the blanket around her day to day wear. “Fine, Shay, I suppose we could share.”

The man met her halfway- he bent and scooped her up, walking over to the couch and lowering himself, pulling her into his lap. “Hold me, lass.” He said softly, smiling against her cheek. “If ya hold me, you can scare off the cold that’s lurkin’ in my bones.” He kissed her face as she giggled, draping the blankets around them both. “Don’t want me dying of chills, do we?”

“You? Cold? Please, Shay.” She pulled her head away and looked at him, fighting a grin away from her mouth. His eyes traced the gentle curve of the smile as her warmth seeped into him with a shudder running up his spine. “You’ve survived on ice caps, and with polar bears.”

“Mm,” He managed, eyes still skimming her face. She turned her head away, her lips turning up in that giggle that he knew was her shy of his flattery and flirting. “I landed a lovely lass, you know.” He ran his hand up her side, leaning forward until his nose pressed to her cheek. Shay closed his eyes and inhaled her scent- she smelled of warmth, bread, and spices, all that were fond of his heart. “What did I do to deserve ye?”

She laughed again. It fluttered away as she stood, pacing towards the fireplace. “I should get a fire started.”

“Aye, it’ll make it warmer, but I can do it.” Shay stood, steps pausing only when thunder rumbled outside. He groaned and stared at the window, rubbing his hands together. “Great. The Morrigan is all out, and she just got a new shipment of powder- I hope it’s all loaded.”

“Shay,” Her voice lilted from the fireplace as she worked. She was holding her skirts back gently, humming as she stoked at the starting flame. “I am sure that Gist and the boys got it all loaded together.” She turned her head and looked at him, offering an encouraging smile. “Besides, if they didn’t, you could simply throw Gist overboard.”

Shay shook his head, but laughed as he picked up a couple pieces of wood. They weren’t damp, fortunately, and there was some more waiting in the covered part of the porch. “Aye, he would like that.” He walked over and bent down by her, gently throwing in one of the wood pieces. “He probably did something else to deserve it, too- just can’t name it.” He lowered himself onto the rug, watching as his lover did the same, picking up the blanket. 

“Shay? May I ask you something?”

May she? “Anything at all ye want, I’m as open as a book.”

“I know you work for Mister Kenway.” She stated. “And I know the nature of... some of your work.” The words were selected carefully, as if she had thought this out. “But before... he said you worked for someone else.”

The cold seemed to return, breathing down his neck. “Sorry, lass. That I won’t say.” She opened her mouth to speak, and Shay raised a soothing hand, gentle in his movement, earnestly seeking her eyes. “The less I say, the safer ye are.” She closed her mouth, pursing her lips in thought. 

“But I would like some answers.”

“And you’ll have them, but not today.” Shay wrapped his arm around her, pulling her to his chest as the fire sparked. It whispered and crackled, promising some semblance of peace. She didn’t need to know everything about the Assassians, his Brotherhood. Not tonight at least. “Today, let’s watch the fire and have each other in the warmth.” 

She nodded as she nestled back to him, her head lolling back on his chest. “And tomorrow, Shay?”

“Tomorrow I’ll throw Gist overboard. Just for ye.”

She laughed and pulled his hand to her lips, gently kissing it as the flames danced, the little sounds drowning out another rumble of thunder. “Of course.” She closed her eyes, the orange glow embracing her, lacing her lashes and cheeks. “And tonight we will be here.” She confirmed, softly, and he lowered his head to kiss her hair.

“Aye,” He whispered into her locks, running a hand over her back. “Tonight you’ll be safe with me.”

[howtotrainabraincell]

Head cannons bc I can - Assassin’s body parts preferences (and extras...)

AN: I would just like to say that ALL of the Assassin's will protect their love with their lives, not standing for any disrespect or rudeness toward her in any way shape or form. I may not have put it in the description of every Assassin, but it goes without saying. ALSO, plz don't @ me bc this is my first ever spicy post lol

Altair Ibn La’Ahad - loves burying his face in her neck and grabbing her backside cheekily lol, loves bathing with her but won’t deny that’s it’s hard to control himself around her naked body. Comes to her after a mission (if they didn't go on it together that is or if she's not an assassin) to hold her and just melts against her, grateful to have her and be back in her arms alive. Pulls her away ever so often to a corner where he'll kiss her breathless and then just walk off like nothing happened (this man-), loves to chase lol if she runs from him, it sets something deep and primal off in him, and when he eventually catches her? 😳😳😳

Shay Patrick Cormac - definitely breasts lol and has a thing for waists, also loves thighs & has a thing for kissing from the top of her foot to the inside of her thighs, this man can pick up grown soldiers, flip them over his shoulder and then just toss them to the ground like it nothing so he’s strong - tell.me he doesn’t pick up his love and carry her off for some alone time. She won't have to worry about anyone on the Morrigan getting any ideas because Shay has made it VERY clear that she's his and his only. He'll legit fight for her if someone makes her uncomfortable or harasses her and make them regret the day they were born (that is if they can even think afterward bc they'll probably be dead). It - depending on the mood he's in - makes him feel very loved and cared for or very turned on and ready to pin her down, when she kisses the scar over his eye. Don't even get me started on how naughty this fricken man is in Irish Gaelic. (Sir! Control thyself!)

Edward Kenway - an ass man for sure and he loves the thighs too, stands behind her and glares at anyone who checks her out from his spot behind her where he’ll press a possessive kiss to her shoulder while glaring at them. Why do I have feeling that this man has a thing for women who can shoot guns? If she shoots a gun in front of him all pirate-esque he'll literally beg her to step on him haha. Loves him a mouthy feisty woman because not only does it turn.him.on, he gets a kick out of a lovely woman being able to blow someone out of the water with her insults & statements of self-defense. Will also waylay anyone who disrespects her, he'll actually feed them their teeth (don't test him with her)

Jacob Ethan Frye - both the man’s bi lol he can have both if he wants, he for sure does playful butt pats and grabs occasionally but usually when they’re alone (USUALLY & if a Rook bore witness? THEY SAW NOTHING), definitely into holding his love on his lap and whispering dirty things in her ear to fluster her. Will fight to protect her and God help them because they'll have him and the Rooks to deal with (that is if Jacob doesn't crush them and turn them into dust that blows away in the wind lol). Also loves him a feisty and mouthy woman, if she's sarcastic, witty and goofy on top of that? This man is more whipped than whipped cream. Total gentleman even if she can hand his ass to him on a silver platter, he still treats her with utmost respect. Enjoys lying in bed with her and cuddling (give the man all the cuddles STAT) lazily playing with her hair and believe it not - not all kissing with the amorous assassin leads to *wink wink*. He genuinely enjoys laying there with her on a slow day and kissing her sweetly, over and over again. Man is a genuine romantic sweetheart (and nothing will change my mind). It's not an odd occurrence for Evie to wonder where her younger brother is, only to find him conked out on his love's chest just peacefully snoozing away as she holds him reading a book or some files. Totally see him tracing his fingers down her sternum until he reaches her breasts and tracing the insides of them to get her riled up (if he's feeling mean he'll even give a cheeky kiss haha). Also loves to chase her across rooftops and make bets of a spicier nature...

Evie Frye - loves to kiss her loves hands & jaw (particularly that one little spot…) and trace kisses down her sternum, has a habit of cornering her and making out with her lol then she just goes on about her day like nothing happened, plays footsies underneath table surfaces (CHANGE MY MIND). Loves all of her and honestly don't think she would have a preference, Evie's just grateful to have her at all and be with her. Woman was dedicated to being alone as a result of being in the Brotherhood. Think she would get a kick out of witty and playful banter, the more her love speaks the more in love she falls and the more she desires her. She's good with her hands. I said it. Sue me. She.has.good.hands. The woman tis skilled (in more ways than one...) This also pertains to corsets and buttons whether it be doing them or undoing them... Kind think she would like chasing her love through the city too and if it ends up in a garden? The woman internally swoons.

Kassandra of Sparta - breasts she likes pulling her love against her and then looking down to see them pressed against her armor being gorgeous as usual and she loves to grab hips, she will CUT Alcibiades if he looks at her love lol bc she KNOWS what he's thinking about, only lets her hair down around her love and adores laying in between her thighs while her fingers give her a head a very relaxing massage (seriously they can put the woman to sleep lol)

Ratonhnhake:ton/Connor Kenway - I think we can all agree that this sweet man isn't very sexual BUT once he settles down, he does have an appreciation for his loves figure. Loves to hover over her from behind and kiss the top of her head, and when things get more intimate between them, he loves to give her kisses all over her face. Flowers with him would be a common occurrence, often times she wakes up to beautiful wildflowers on her bedside table or on the pillow beside her. This man is a good provider. And if she takes an interest in hunting with him, more than a few times he'll briefly lose interest in hunting the animal and playfully hunting her instead... Feel like he strokes her legs lovingly and takes his time exploring the sexual feelings he has for her. He would love her breasts because they're beautiful, soft and full of life.

Alexios of Sparta - ass for sure he seems like a butt smacker haha she’ll be minding her own business when he comes out of nowhere and gives her a light loving smack. He comes up behind her and literally sweeps her off her feet - no pleasantries, just "you're mine now" lol

Haytham Kenway - breasts has a thing for tracing the tops of them when she wears dresses to get her riled up all while delivering an “innocent” kiss to her flaming red cheek, will randomly stoop to her level to whisper something 😳 in her ear. Get a vibe that he would spoil her with beautiful jewelry and then woo her until it's the only thing she has on, before taking her to bed... Morning sex seems like the norm for him because he's not always there when she falls asleep arriving home late, but when he sees her in the morning, he more than makes it up to her and greets her in very steamy manner. He reminds her to remain neutral when she stands next to him during a meeting as he sits down with his hand hidden by her dress on her backside gently squeezing and acting completely casual about it the cheeky -

Desmond Miles - breasts & when Shaun stresses him out, he presses his head into them lol it’s stress relieving, comes up behind her and hugs her tightly, definitely into spooning he likes the physical contact, and he melts when she kisses his forehead. Before everything he screwed, but now with the woman he loves? He makes love and thoroughly enjoys every second of it with her. Having her by his side through everything means more to him than he can express.

Arno Victor Dorian - this man feels like a worshipper he would love all of her body and take his time with her, but he does tend to go for breasts more coming out of nowhere and kissing the tops of them reverently throughout the day, definitely takes her hand in his and kisses it with full eye contact to the point where it makes her blush, earning a chuckle from him. Tell me that this man doesn't pull her away to corners throughout the day or on a mission and kiss her before walking away casually like nothing happened lol. Got a feeling he's very into whisking his love away just getting her attention and pulling her away to wherever they can have a few moments alone together. Good kisser. I refuse to believe anything else. He swoops in gives a sweet kiss that leaves her flustered, and he stands there watching her with a smile on his face. For some reason I think he's into the whole secret lover rendezvous thing, aka coming in through his love's window or meeting her secretly (it's exciting and he gets her all alone...)

Ezio Auditore Da Firenze - also feels like a worshipping type of man except everywhere, everything, all the time lol, but he does have a preference for breasts often times hugging his love around the waist and burying his face in them. We've all seen how this man has thing for pinning his lady to the wall...do with it what you will. But he does it to her and OFTEN lol. A little more promiscuous in public - stopping of course if she gets uncomfortable - than others and is not afraid to show how he feels about her. Also, a good kisser. I mean COME ON.

Bayek of Siwa - he loves her breasts because beneath them lies her heart and he cherishes the fact that she has given it to him, loves to star gaze with her - they lay there together peacefully as he tells her about the constellations and their meaning. Loves bathing with her just laying back and relaxing, eyes roving her form as she cleans him and gives him a shave (he refuses to shave unless she does it for him bc he loves her touch and how great her handiwork is). Gives the kinds of kisses that melt her like a stick of butter lol, a kiss from him has a lot of emotion poured into it telling without words how much he loves her.

[weirdest-lights]

Best friends

[ridingtorohan]

𓇻 ft. shay cormac x assassin recruit gn reader 𓇻 warnings! minor spoilers for AC Rogue. alcohol consumption + minor injury. 𓇻 au. reader is Hope and Liam's newest addition to the Brotherhood. Unfortunately, you've just learned about Shay's involvement... long after you've already met him. 𓇻 enjoy! feel free to like, reblog, or send in asks! ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎read on ao3! - masterlist - join the taglist!

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"Looks like you've got a right shiner this time."

It's a voice you recognize, even through the thick of the fog. With bottle of brandy in hand, opening to your bottom lip, you've managed to cool the swell of your ego better than you have your bruise. Tongue darts out, pushing at your upper lip.

His glove rests to your cheekbone, index finger trailing softly over tender skin. Never tender enough because you flinch instinctively, expression pulling tighter. Guarded was never a flattering expression on Shay and it certainly wasn't now. Nose wrinkling, you incline your head away, the cold now freshly stinging.

Even though it's been a few hours, the tenderness hasn't gone down, still bitter and sitting coloured beneath the flush of your skin. At least you've managed the swelling some. The ghost of Shay's fingers on your skin lingers. You turn away, nursing the bottle with another sip. With a low, wanting creak of wood, the saloon's deck groans beneath Shay's weight as he shifts, back turned towards the banister, eyes always on you. Elbows resting over the rails, fresh snow lines the roots of his dark hair, skin still unbothered by the cold. So he's the one you heard step out after you.

"Did Hope give it to ye?" He asked, voice low and careful, eyes still impossibly dark, even when the warm tavern light dances over his features. Your mouth twists, sour line worrying into the skin.

"Liam."

"Ah." Then, "Well, he's always been a right git anyhow."

Looking at him like this, an air of familiarity drifting between you two, it almost tempers the sorrow and grief that still echoes in your bones. The insisting song of rage and injustice. Your fingers curl tighter around the bottle- and you see it too. How Shay's eyes don't even dart away but a barely perceptible twitch. Always watching each movement. A biting scoff rises in your throat before you can stop it.

For everything that Hope and Liam had trained you for, for all the burdens you bore, memories and lessons drilled into your head- this was not how you thought it would go.

Because every scary story told to you, every drill and hasty explanation- it was all because of him. Every bruise and aching joint- every nasty remark and lessons forced well past their dues. Even Achilles, as senile as he seemed, remarked upon the force the Brotherhood trained you.

All to avenge ghosts of Assassins you didn't know, never had a chance to know. All for a Brotherhood that had been tarnished before you joined.

You were meant to replace Shay, you realize that now. A bitter truth that had come to a head earlier that night, when Liam saw how you held your blades. Accosted you for it, demanding where you learned it from. 'From Shay', you had wanted to say, because it had been the truth. Then the rest of it followed, with Hope pleading with you to leave for the night while everyone cooled down. While they cooled down.

Looking back, you should have known better than to accept some strange man's friendly banters in taverns. Known better than to walk his boat, learning its knots better than you learned your knives.

It makes sense. Shay befriended you to sniff out the Assassin's plans. It made sense. Just as it made sense that Liam tried building you into a better tool, trying to outpace the losses that the Brotherhood had suffered.

'It's not fair.'

You think how his hands felt on your sides, careful in his guidance. Teaching you with a far greater patience than Liam had, with far kinder methods than Hope's. You had learned better under Shay- and somehow, that made it all worse, stinging more than the betrayal did.

"I hate you," you tell him. Shay tilts his head, little more than an acknowledgement. Eyes studying you, judging your reaction. Fog puffs in front of his face with his slow exhale. The wind blows it back, dusting across dark eyes before disappearing into the night.

"I know."

Still, even though you know, even though he knows, neither of you move. It's just the slow tilt of the bottle against your lips, burning motion of liquor down your throat. Cold seeping through your clothes, always too thin, never durable enough for the winter. Something that Shay had tried to correct you on but Kesegowaase didn't care for. Always too busy for your innate questions.

You want to hate Shay for everything. Pin it all on him. It'd be the easiest way. Give in to what your mentors had been trying to drill into your head: enemy, enemy, enemy.

Glass presses to your lips again. Shay's fingers ghost over yours, leather pressing light to exposed fingers. A grip that remains solid - but not insistent... and with the patience of a man that wouldn't exist in the Shay that the Brotherhood knew.

But he lets you take another drink anyway. You weren't a lightweight. Shay had made sure of that.

"Are you going to kill me?" You decide on saying when the fire has tempered in your throat. All that's left is the chill in your eyes, the nip of frost and frozen winds on your cheeks.

His fingers remain on the bottle and with a light tug, you concede, letting him bring it to his own lips. Cleanshaven, unlike the scruffy remnants that you had been sworn to. In all the ways that matter, he's unlike the man you've been told about. But you can see where the threat lies, the careful way he tilts his shoulders, languid but prepared. That part of the stories are true.

"Only if our blades cross," Shay responds, swallow audible, eyes dark as he peers at you over the neck of the bottle. He passes it to you, fingers brushing over yours.

Fingers connect. You try not to memorize how they feel.

"They'll order me to kill you," you decide to say.

Shay blinks, then blinks again when the snow lingers on his lashes. "Aye. And I won't let you." You scoff bitterly against the bottle. You both have roles to play. You just wish yours wasn't this.

You turn your eyes away, skimming over the balcony, out into the rolling hills of snow. More powder falls from the sky, dusting across your shoulders, frozen kisses upon cold-flushed skin. It'd be easy, you know, for Shay to just reach over and slide his blade into your neck. Nobody would hear you. Even with gold light dusting over the white expanse ahead, there's still dark shadows. You're both still isolated.

The music in the other room sounds so far away.

He doesn't move and you get to take another drink.

You think, then, that this isn't all there is. That there's more to the man that you were told about. That words uttered with hate or hellfire don't amount to the hours you've spent by his side, listening to some bawdy tale that Gist told him.

Then, in the same breath, you think: he doesn't have to kill me and I don't have to kill him.

Then, in another: what if there was another way?

Because for all the assassins are, good teachers aren't one of them. That you still swore to protect the innocent and your blade hasn't known flesh. In all these moments, caught between the Homestead and someone you had thought you had known, there exists things that you don't know. Impossibly, that there might be kindness beyond this rage and suffering that everyone has been dealt.

Again, in your mind's eye, you feel the shadow of Shay's gloves on your arms and waist, correcting your stance. Think of Achilles' words, heated and grave. Of Hope's flattering gait as she leads you through her warehouse.

"Shay, what-" You turn, throat tight, shadows and aches lingering in your mind still. There's nothing there, the impressions of his boots filling with the drifting of snow. Only gloves left on the railing, cuffs rimmed with fur. Still warm, even as you press chapped and shaking fingers inside, leather cushioning your palms. Because this is who Shay is, always watching out for you.

The next sip of the bottle goes down tasteless, no longer satisfying. The despair doesn't run as hot in your blood anymore, though the sense of betrayal lingers. Except now you wonder, just who exactly you feel betrayed by.

[thatcrazycrowgirl]

My esteemed Shay and Arno mutual!!!

Just read your post and I must ask you for a lovely fic of our beloved Irish lad Shay with his lady love Constance. I haven't read any of them since your OC is recent. I would love to read a one-shot from them and with your writing I'm 💯 sure it will be a beautiful work.

Thank you so much!!! Sending you good vibes, a hug and a truckload of coffee to fuel the muses! 🫂

Hello, hello, my mysterious mutual! Thank you so much for dropping this in my inbox, and for giving me a chance to write and share something for Shay and Constance! ^_^ (Seeing this message made me realize that while I've been working on their story behind-the-scenes, I've never actually posted any writings for them. lol) The vibes, hug, and enormous amount of coffee is also appreciated; thank you! I hope you enjoy this little fic! <3

A/N: Given that it's been so darn hot here lately, and after seeing something about oyster shells being used as 1700s Christmas decor, I just HAD to set this in the wintertime! Also, this takes place at a point in my AU where Shay is starting to develop a crush on Constance, and they're finally starting to get along properly. (Also, also, "Craven's Crossing" is the name of Constance's farm.)

December, 1756 The Beach at Craven's Crossing

"Have you found enough shells yet?" Shay called out to Constance, his teeth chattering as the wind off of the water was starting to pick up, chilling the air even more.

Winter had come - the time to decorate for the upcoming Christmas season - and with that, came for searching for oyster shells on a snow-dusted beach for Constance's wreaths.

Shay agreed to help as a favor to Colonel Monro, whom Shay recently learned had a special affinity for the young woman - though whether the affection was one of one friend towards another or a suitor seeking a bride, he wasn't sure.

The current hunt soon came to a halt when Constance called to Shay to come look at the nearly open oyster she found, which contained a familiar bauble inside - a newly-formed pearl.

"What are you going to do with it?" Shay asked, his curiosity now peaked and the cold forgotten.

She tilted her head, considering, before an idea lit up in her green-gray eyes. "Well, you've been such a help to me today..." she grinned as she held the pearl out to him, "...so, for you; for Christmastide."

"So, I'm your servant now?" Shay chuckled; "besides, it's too early for that."

His laughter soon died down and once more, there was a few silent moments of reflection, before Constance humbly asked, "how about a peace offering, then?"

Shay nodded - but when felt Constance's fingertips press into his gloved palm, he again remembered Monro...and as Shay returned her soft smile, he hoped, to his own surprise, that any feelings the Colonel had for her was nothing more than friendly.

[recreationalfanfics]

Ooo, lately I've been thinking about yandere shay dragging his assassin darling along with him when he defects from the brotherhood to the templars. Like, he's got to "save" then whether they want to be saved or not

YES! YANDERE SHAY. Okay so I do actually have thoughts about him-

Shay knows that after he defects that it will not be easy to get you, that Liam and Hope will tell you all of these horrible things and you will believe them.

He doesn't blame you, though. The Brotherhood kept him in the dark about many things but he's sure you'll understand when he can explain himself to you.

So I can see two paths that'd he take when it came to you: 1. He takes you quietly in which he and the Templars set up an ambush for you and some other assassins and makes it look like you were killed so no assassin's come looking for you or maybe he just straight up is hunting you down by tracking assassin's you've both trained with and interrogating them about you before killing them.

Either way, he hates how you look so scared but he doesn't blame you. You're just confused and he will happily explain everything, you just need to calm down first.

In general, he's...an infuriating yandere, to say the least. He doesn't hear you out when you try to explain that he's a hypocrite for siding with the Templars and simply tells you that you "don't understand". Or he gives you this pitying look as if YOU'RE the one being stubborn and unreasonable. Trying to make him see reason is a waste of time and trying to argue only leads to him just sighing and being condescending to you because the Assassins really have dug their claws into you.

You also aren't sure what's worse, the fact that he believes he can "fix" you or the fact that he imagined you even harbored any romantic feelings for him in the first place. You've only really ever been on a few missions with him and yet, he acted as if you two were some star-crossed lovers.

He'd really rather not be rough or harsh with you but if you try to fight him then he will be sure to remind you that he is not messing around, you will not escape him and even if you did, you are in enemy territory and he will stop at nothing to track you down and take down as many of your Assassin friends as he needs too.

If you cry or sob out of frustration or maybe you found that he destroyed your robes and your blade, he'll sit next to you and let you rest your head on his chest and coo to you, petting your hair as he tells you that everything he does is for your best interest. He's creating a better world for you and for him to be together!

Sometimes he will do such things as isolate you, trying to convince himself he's giving you time to cool off but deep down he knows what he's really doing.

If you were to ever say that you could never love a Templar like him, his gaze will become more stern as he just grabs your chin roughly and says: "I have been patient and understandin' with you long enough, (Y/n), but I really wouldn't test me if I were you."

and as he makes you look into his eyes, you realize that this isn't the same Shay staring back at you or maybe it was. Maybe this is the first time you ever took a real look at Shay and noticed the intense and infatuated look his eyes held for you.

You'll thank him someday. You'll laugh in his arms about the silly little notions and tell him how grateful you are he set you free from those contradicting and hypocritical ideals the Assassin's had. But there was clearly a lot of work need to be done if he was going to secure that future with you.

[bookworm-with-coffee]

THIS WAS SO PRECIOUS WTF— SKDDKKDDKJD

Can I please please have Shay cormac reacting to y/n with a claddagh ring. Then realizing "Wait... they're single" because of the position of the ring? Then rizzing them up? It's an irish ring that means love loyalty and freindship. also the potion it is in represent the relationship status of the wearer!

[s0larine]

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

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

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

word count ☩ 3,979

pairing ☩ shay cormac x f! reader

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

　　　New-York, June 1756

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Would you care to dance?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Because sometimes, the Brotherhood is wrong."

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

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

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

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

“Because sometimes, the Brotherhood is wrong.”

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

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

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

But that resolve felt brittle.

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

What was his game?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That was all the invitation he needed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

　　　PART 2 in writing...

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

dividers by @/thecutestgrotto

[bookworm-with-coffee]

WIP Game!!!

Thank you for the tag, @ladysaturnsdust and apologies for the lateness!! ♡♡♡

Rules: make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Here are the main ones I'm attempting to work on! Life has been super busy this past year so I've not been writing as often, but I'm still doing as much as I can!

( This excludes my forgotten and abandoned drafts. I have more WIP's, believe me )

♡♡♡♡ ◇ ♡♡♡♡ ◇ ♡♡♡♡ ◇ ♡♡♡♡ ◇

1. The Love That Binds Us (Frye Twins x Reader) [PLATONIC/FAMILY] - Set in 1888 (Jack the Ripper era), you may be the only one who can save London from the man you once considered a brother. < STATUS: complete, unpublished >

2. Beautiful Things (Vex x Reader) [ROMANTIC] - A Grimm and Lost Girl crossover and enemies to lovers fic centered around Vex and an unlikely foe, soon turned friend. < STATUS: incomplete, unpublished >

3. The Call (Assassin's Creed) - Set in the modern day, based on AURORA's song for the franchise's 15th Anniversary, "Hunting Shadows" < STATUS: planning/brainstorming >

4. ~Untitled~ (Jacob Frye x Reader) [ROMANTIC] - Jacob reunites with his childhood friend in London after some years of being apart. < STATUS: incomplete, unpublished >

5. Just a Kiss This Christmas (AC 3, Rogue and Syndicate Boys x Reader) [ROMANTIC] - Individual Christmas themed imagines centered around our favourites: Haytham Kenway, Connor/Ratonhnhaké:ton, Shay Cormac, Liam O'Brien and Jacob Frye. < STATUS: almost complete, unpublished >

6. ~Untitled~ (Vex x Reader) [ROMANTIC] - More Vex appreciation, centers around his redemption arc and "supposedly" non-existent heart. < STATUS: incomplete, brainstorming >

♡♡♡♡ ◇ ♡♡♡♡ ◇ ♡♡♡♡ ◇ ♡♡♡♡ ◇

Send asks for more information or a short snippet! 😉💖

Six tags for six WIP's!

@fizzyxcustard @evenstaredits @wyyvernn @demigoddessqueens @6lostgirl6 @deadlymistletoe 💖💖💖

[intoxicated-chan]

❝𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐬❞ ✠ 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐲 𝐏𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐜

Inspired by “Army Dreamers” by Kate Bush // Best viewed in dark mode

Shay was scared to admit that he had fallen for Liam’s younger sister, he planned to take his secret to the grave and he succeeded for while until he found you years later, this time, possibly on the opposite sides.

Paring ➳ Shay Cormac x Liam’s Sister!Reader

Content Warnings ➳ Female Reader/Assassin Reader, typical Assassin's Creed violence, blood, assassinations, sexual content, death, murder, other tags to be added...

CHAPTERS ↓ Tumblr & AO3 Only

𝐎𝐧𝐞 ✠ ❝𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐒𝐚𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬❞

𝐓𝐰𝐨 ✠ ❝𝐖𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐔𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐚𝐬 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐅𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞❞

𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 ✠ ❝𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬❞

𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫 ✠ ❝𝐌𝐲 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬❞

𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞 ✠ ❝𝐀𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐬❞

© Intoxicated-Chan 2024, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without my permission. None of the photos used belong to me! Credits to @cafekitsune and @benkeibear for the dividers. I use it all the time.

[wyyvernn]

Wyy's Assassin's Creed Masterlist

Note: Excuse the Haytham brainrot yes I am very obsessed

Requests: Open but for Haytham and Shay only. I write for several reader options, including gender neutral and male readers but I mostly write with a female reader in mind. That being said, please be clear with the type of reader you want me to write for in your request!

𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

✧ ˚ · . Haytham Kenway

Vampire! Haytham - Part 1 (Headcanons)

Vampire! Haytham - Part 2 (NSFW - Headcanons)

Vampire! Haytham x Spy! Reader

Injured! Haytham x Templar! Reader

Stranded - Haytham x Templar! Reader

City Chase - Haytham x Templar! Reader

Older! Mentor! Haytham x Student! Reader (Headcanons + Oneshot)

Older! Mentor! Haytham x Student! Reader (NSFW - Fingering)

Older! Mentor! Haytham x Student! Reader (NSFW - Thigh Riding)

Older! Mentor! Haytham x Student! Reader (NSFW - Wall Sex)

Yandere! Haytham Headcanons

Haytham x NB! Reader

Haytham x Doubtful! Reader

✧ ˚ · . Shay Patrick Cormac

Shay x Catwoman! Reader

Vampire! Shay (Headcanons)

✧ ˚ · . Various

How they kiss you - Connor, Haytham, Shay, Evie, Jacob (Headcanons)

SFW Headcanons - Shay & Haytham (Bonus Poly)

[teecupangel]

Hey, so, assassins creed x Idols (Kpop?). From the comments of the other post I remember the band "Now United" where every member is from a different country, maybe it can be used as a concept for the band?, idk I'm just giving ideas but I really want to continue the idea of them as group bc I found it hilarious lmao.

I tried looking for the post where we talk about this but I can’t find it anymore TTATT

(Also, it’s kinda funny that I’m answering this ask now the same day I watched the last Hololive concert with my friend. What a coincidence lol)

So, first things first, since my idol era happened during the early 2000s with Jpop, I’m going to borrow the setup of Debut or Die for this one to make it feel more Kpop XD

First things first, we’ll set up what we need in the idol group:

Lead Vocalist

Sub Vocalist

Main Dancer

Lead Rapper

(there are other parts like “Face of the Group” or “Main Visual”… aka the most photogenic one, maybe even something like the group’s composer/lyricist if we want that)

Anyway, we’re focusing on those 4 because this is the formation for Desmond, Altaïr, Ezio and Ratonhnhaké:ton.

Okay, let’s be honest. We’re going to put Desmond in the lead vocalist part because it’s me XD

But, putting him as sub vocalist would be a random reference to the fact that Desmond’s voice actor, Nolan North, sang the sub vocalist part of Saint Row IV’s Opposite Attract singalong scene

(this also help show how high Nolan North can sing I guess?)

Also, also, Ratonhnhaké:ton has to be the lead vocalist. His voice actor, Noah Watts, has a 13+ min video showing why Ratonhnhaké:ton should be the lead vocalist.

Altaïr would be the main dancer because I like the idea of Ezio being the main rapper and Altaïr’s body build would make him a good dancer.

So our final setup would be

Ratonhnhaké:ton – Lead Vocalist and Maknae (the youngest by one year)

Desmond – Sub Vocalist and the reluctant leader

Altaïr – Main Dancer and maybe their dance coordinator?

Ezio – Lead Rapper and Face of the Group + Main Visual

Now, I think you asked what Edward’s part will be?

Normally I would say Edward can a retired idol turned into this group’s manager but let’s fuck with the timeline and make everyone around the same ages and turn this into…

ACB48

hehehehe

(for those wondering, this is a reference to one of the longest idol group in Japan, AKB48)

So Desmond’s group would be part of ACB48 together.

Other groups include:

A group composed of Edward, Arno, Evie and Jacob (fans jokingly calls them the Hundred Years War Group)

A group composed of Shao Jun, Arbaaz Mir, Nikolai Orelov and Aguilar de Nerha.

A group composed of Kassandra, Alexios, and the twins Eivor and Havi.

A group composed of Bayek, Aya and Basim.

(Modern Assassins will be assistants or managers. Other historical Assassins can have their own group: like maybe Malik and Federico with their own group??? An all girls group of Claudia, Mary Read, Anne Bonny (even if she's not really an Assassin), María, Rebekah and Roshan)

And, of course, one of their rival idol group is made of Haytham Kenway, Shay Cormac (who was once part of ACB48), Daniel Cross and Maria Thorpe. (The CEO of their company is Warren Vidic)

Since they’re all of similar ages (around late teens early to mid twenties), Edward and Haytham are brothers and Ratonhnhaké:ton is their half-brother. Whether they’re cousins with Ezio is up to you.

[thatcrazycrowgirl]

Greetings, my dear Shay mutual!!! (Have a cup of coffee in case you need it ☕and a hug in case you feel down 🫂)

Here to ask about our beloved Irish brogue and your darling OC Constance.

How did they meet?

Slow-burn or love at first sight?

Have you written a one-shot about them? If not, do you have one in mind?

A faceclaim for Constance?

And finally: If you could choose a song or music that just speaks volumes of these two, which song or music would it be? Or do you have a playlist about them?

So here it is! Sorry for asking so late!

Have a beautiful day, Shay mutual! 😊😊😊

Dear Shay Mutual, hello! :D

Thank you for much for the message, the hug, and the cup of coffee! All are welcome! Also, please forgive the SUPER LATE response to this message, but I was unable to write everything out sooner. So, if you're still around, I hope you can still enjoy reading about these two! Hope you are having a beautiful day, as well! ^_^

Now, onto my answers!

1. I actually haven't decided yet on exactly how or when they meet, though I can tell you that takes place in June 1756, after Shay has recovered under the care of Constance's parents-in-law, the Finnegans. That being said, before they meet proper, Constance DOES spot Shay in town, sporting her late husband's Templar coat - and let's just say, she immediately decides to have some strong, choice words with Barry and Cassidy!

2. Slow burn, ABSOLUTELY. Each can't deny the other is physically attractive, but with the still-grieving Constance initially unhappy with Shay inheriting her late husband's coat, and Shay still emotionally recovering from defecting from the Assassins, the sparks don't begin to fly until much later on! (Y'know, once they've had a chance to talk like actual adults? lol)

3. I haven't written any one shots yet, actually! But once I get things more solidified with them, I might! Maybe if I ever open up requests for ficlet prompts again, I'll offer them as an option!

4. My current faceclaim for Constance is the lovely Dominique Devenport!

5. And I do currently have a playlist for them, that I'm still adding to! But one song I will mention that ALWAYS reminds me of them is "Sirens" from the "Jane Eyre" musical. With all the references to the sea, the passionate frustration, and the underlining pining, I think it's just perfect for them! (Especially given some of the obstacles that come later on that prevents them from getting together just yet.)

Thank you so much again for your lovely message, I enjoyed answering it! And please, if you have any further questions, don't hesitate to ask! ^_^

[recreationalfanfics]

A Brewing Storm

Pt. 2

Summary: In which an older Templar Shay adopts a teenage novice assassin Reader on sight.

Notes: Reader's age is 18, this is a strictly platonic yandere x reader story, this was not proofread, yandere themes involved

You huff out a breath of air, your throat feels like it just swallowed fire, and your body feels heavier and heavier, but you will yourself to continue despite all the pain. You can barely hear the shouts of your pursuers over the thundering of your beating heart in your chest. You’re running even if you don’t know where. 

Where could you go that they couldn’t follow?

What place is there that you can hide from them? 

Images of your fallen brothers and sisters start to flash in your mind, motivating you to run faster no matter how bad your body aches, and causing tears to pool up in the corners of your eyes. Some part of you still believes that, somehow, what you saw was not true. When you turn the corner into an alleyway, you wanted to believe chasing Templars would be cut down by your comrades, but instead, there is nothing but barrels you have to jump over and civilians you have to push into their way. The hidden blade feels like it’s burning into your skin as if it was angry that you weren’t more experienced enough to use it to attack. One of them lunges at you and you yelp when you feel their hand grab your robe, reaching just enough to pull down your hood from your head, but you sped up and managed to evade their grasp.

You can’t keep this up. 

You can’t outrun them, you can’t overpower them, and you especially can’t count on anyone to help you out. 

You try and grab onto a window, to start climbing, but then one of them grabs your foot and throws you to the ground. You fall on your side, your breathing is so heavy that you’re beginning to gasp for air, your tears so heavy that they obscure your vision and fall onto the stone ground beneath you, and even though your arms managed to raise your body; you can’t bring yourself to raise your head. You feel pathetic and helpless as they all stand around you, throwing you around like a ragdoll, taunting you, and yelling at you. 

“How sad.” One sneered and you hear him readying your musket, and your crying becomes heavier as you close your eyes, “the other novices had some fight in them.”

He was right, your fellow novice assassins ignored the orders of the older assassin’s and even though they ended up dead, at least they went down bravely. Unlike you, surrounded by Templars anyone else could’ve easily evaded, about to be shot and put down like a sick dog. The taunts ring in your ears as you grit your teeth and accept your fate, you weren’t naive enough to expect mercy from them, and your throat was so overcome with sobs and pants you couldn’t even beg for your life if you wanted to. The captain aims his weapon at your sorry state, and you ready yourself to feel whatever pain the bullet brings you.

“HOLD YOUR FIRE!”

The templar who was about to shoot you turns around, a violent fire in his eyes as he sees who dares to yell at him like that, only for it to die down when he sees a dark figure. He lowers his weapon to his side as he and his subordinates part a path for the newcomer.

“M-Mr. Cormac…we weren’t aware you were here.” The captain stammers.

Your eyes open when you hear the name. “Cormac”, the name of the assassin-turned-templar, the one who your guild was warned about but was so confident that because they were so newly formed, he’d never find out about them. Your chest feels cold and hollow as the sound of heavy boots comes closer and closer to you, you raise your head and stare at the man who was on a quest to slaughter anyone and everything touched by the Brotherhood. Shay looks back at you, his dark eyes staring into the depths of your soul and sending chills down your spine. His eyes hold a bitter and serious gaze, the first thing you compare them to in your mind was a brewing storm at sea. Harsh, unforgiving, and filling you even more with a sense of dread. 

You heard rumors of how other assassins had been brutally killed by him, some rumors going into disgusting detail that made you skeptical, but now it seems you had the misfortune of finding out yourself if they were true or not.

“Were you going to kill them, Captain?” Shay asks, his eyes still trained on you.

Your crying has simmered but you still sniff and whimper. His brows furrow and his eyes soften as he feels nothing but pity for you, your young and frightened face pulling at his heartstrings, and he frowns seeing just how terrified you are. You notice these changes in his expression, unaware that something about you is stirring something within him, and wish he would just kill you already.

“They’re an assassin, sir.” The Captain responds, avoiding the very direct “yes” or “no” question as he stares at the man cautiously. Shay’s eyes move away from you and pierce the man as his scowl grows, “I am aware. Were you going to kill them?”

Now everyone around you is uneasy, their eyes trained on the two men. The Captain tries to swallow his fear before he answers but it failed to work, seeing as he answers with a shaky and fearful: “Yes.”

Turning his gaze towards you once again, Shay kneels down and you instinctively move away from him. He pauses in his movements before he gently assures you that he won’t hurt you but you don’t believe him. Not when he has the blood of your friends and found family staining his hands. Quickly accepting that he was as close as you would allow him to be, he studies you and your injuries. Your bruised face, your swollen lip, all of these injuries you didn’t even notice until he spoke up about them.

“How old are you?” He asks.

You gulp and try to gather yourself to answer him.

“18.” Is all you can manage to say.

You can’t read his gaze but you can tell he is deep in thought. You wonder what importance your age even has in this situation but you still analyze him for any sign of what his intentions are.

“...They’re coming with me.” the dark-haired man eventually says, tilting his head towards the captain. The Captain stares at him with disbelief, looking at him as if he lost his mind before exclaiming, “I- Sir! They’re an assassin!”

“They’re a child.” Shay shoots back. 

If this were any other situation where Shay wasn’t a double-crosser of the brotherhood, you would’ve been offended at him labeling you a mere child, but now you’re simply perplexed. 

“The Brotherhood revealed to me their true colors when I was just a little older than them.” He states plainly, “All they need is a little guidance.”

Still on one knee, his hand reaches out towards you, a silent invitation for you to take it. You stare at it hesitantly, not fully sure that your life was just spared, but also not having much of a choice. When he rises from the ground, your legs shakingly follow and you let out a soft gasp when you accidentally lean onto his arm a bit too much but he stands strong and gently assures you everything will be okay.

The storm in his eyes clears, his gaze softening as he looks at you more closely. The way you have both of your hands grasping his arm and your head resting on his arm as you walk with him, uncertain and heedful of every step you took. He knows he has his work cut out for him to try and rid your mind of the Brotherhood’s brainwashing but something else grows within him as he gently coaxes and leads you back to his ship. You lacked a figure in your life who would protect and guide you in the right direction, someone who you could rely on to keep you safe and look up to, and the thought of HIM being that figure in your life made Shay oddly happy.

[bonesxbows]

Windy Old Weather (Shay Cormac x Reader)

Masterlist

A severe storm catches you and Shay off guard and you're forced to face your fears. Luckily he's there to keep you safe and comfort you through your anxiety.

(WARNINGS) - panic attack/anxiety attack behaviors described - thunderstorms - fear of thunderstorms

We recently had some pretty bad storms where I live and they scared the fuck out of me, I ended up having one of the worst panic attacks I've ever experienced. Me and my family are all okay but it was still hella scary, so I decided to write something about it. It took a couple of tries to get it right and I'm still not completely satisfied with it, but it's good enough for what I wanted it to be. Hopefully, it can help someone else who shares my fears. Comments and reblogs are much appreciated :)

-

Your feet slapped against the wet wooden boards of the docks outside of Fort Arsenal, rain thrashing around you and the wind screaming in your ears. Shay was close behind you, using a hand to shield his face from the assault of water being thrown at him, otherwise it was impossible to keep his eyes forward. He placed a hand on your back, urging you to keep moving as he ushered you towards the safety of his home. The rest of the crew would find their own shelter in the outer buildings, his main concern was you right now. There was no time to secure the Morrigan besides dropping anchor and tying one of her mooring lines to the dock. The storm had shown up abruptly, out of nowhere turning the once blue sky into an abysmal darkness, the rain and wind turning visibility to nothing. Shay counted his blessings that they hadn’t been that far from the Fort when the sky had turned sour, though he guessed his self-made luck had something to do with it. 

The two of you ran across the yard as fast as your legs could carry you, making it to the front door of the house just as a crack of lightning rang throughout the sky. You stood there panting and dripping water as Shay closed the door behind him. He moved over to the fireplace, tossing a few logs in and starting a spark. A warm orange glow soon filled the house, causing you to inch closer towards the heat, the cold being chased from your bones slowly as the warmth seeped in instead. Shay let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, he could finally relax a little and let down his guard now that the two of you were somewhere safe and warm. 

He turned to you and placed an arm around your shoulders, gently pulling you closer towards the fire. You had wrapped your arms around yourself, partly from the cold and partly to calm yourself down. You leaned into Shay, relishing his touch and body heat even though his clothes were still soaked. You began to shake, your teeth chattering. 

“Is the fire not warm enough, love?” he asked you, turning you to face him so he could rub his hands up and down your arms in an attempt to warm you up more.

“No Shay, it's alright. Thank you,” you told him, still shaking despite feeling the warmth radiating into your clothes and skin. Another boom of thunder and lightning shook the sky, illuminating the window panes with an eerie blue light. It made you jump and you started to panic uncontrollably, your breaths coming out shallow and fast-paced. Trying to get your heart rate to slow down was becoming impossible. It didn't take Shay more than a few seconds to figure out what was wrong. 

“Is it the storm? Does it scare you?” he asked. But before you could answer the two of you heard a loud splintering crack resound outside. You both turned to peek out the window towards the sound. One of the trees in the courtyard now lay sliced in two, its top now nothing more than a bundle of branches on the ground, its stump a ragged knife pointed up towards the sky. You instinctively covered your mouth with a hand to stifle a cry, though that didn’t stop your eyes from overflowing as tears began to flood your face. You turned back around and rushed into Shay’s arms, burying your head into his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you firmly against him. The rain had caused his usual comforting smell to turn into a scent of wet gunpowder and spoiled whiskey but you didn’t mind. You were too frightened to care. 

“It’s just a storm, love. You’re okay,” he told you, running his fingers through your still-wet hair. 

“Make it stop Shay.” you cried into his chest, your voice slightly muffled from the layers of leather. You pawed at the back of his jacket, trying to find something, anything, to ground yourself with. 

“I’m right here. You’re safe, I swear. I won’t let anything happen to you.” he reassured you, though you stayed clinging to him. 

At some point he scooped you up into his arms, picking you up and carrying you to an armchair near the still roaring fireplace. He held you in his lap, letting you nestle your head in between his neck and the collar of his jacket. Eventually, the wind stopped howling and you stopped shaking but Shay never made a move to let go of you. He could feel your breath on his skin, your breathing slowly but surely returning to normal, as he continued to rake his hands through your hair soothingly. 

“Sorry…” you whispered into his ear, a little embarrassed that a storm had spooked you so easily. You had faced greater threats by Shay’s side and come out on top, yet one little storm had turned you into a sniveling childish mess. You had always had a fear of storms but living aboard the Morrigan didn’t leave much room for silly fears. But the abruptness of this one had startled you, unburying your anxiety that you had spent years covering up in a matter of minutes. 

“It’s alright, love. We’re all scared of something. Next time a storm comes we won’t be caught off guard like that. I’ll protect you.” he kept his voice low and soft, his accent coating his words like molasses. You truly did believe him. Now that he was aware of your fears he made a mental note to steer clear of situations that would spark your panic attacks. You still felt ashamed but you knew Shay would never belittle you, even over a fear of thunderstorms. When one of his hands found its way to your chin you let him guide your face out of the crook of his neck to where he could see you. You looked at him and there was a small smile on his lips, his puppy dog-like brown eyes gleaming with unconditional love. He used the pad of his thumb to gently wipe away any leftover tears under your eyes, placing a soft kiss on your forehead afterward. You couldn't help but return his smile with one of your own. 

[anari3l]

WELCOME TO THE WOOD!

Requests are always open. Send asks or submissions for fanfics.

This is not a safe space for minors. If you're under 18, please go away.

I refuse to write anything involving: pedophilia, rape, incest, yandere. I WILL delete asks with any of the above.

I will write: angst, consensual smut, fluff.

Fandoms I write for: Lord of the Rings/The Hobbit, Red Dead Redemption, Overwatch, Dragon Age, Baldur's Gate 3, Hell on Wheels (AMC), Fallout 4, Assassin's Creed

I am also on AO3 as kaclydid

AO3 Links:

The Lord of the Rings/ The Hobbit

Writings from the Wood

Red Dead Redemption 2

Humors of Whiskey - Arthur Morgan x Reader

Wildflowers - Humors of Whiskey prequel drabbles

Hell on Wheels

Far Away - Cullen Bohannon x Reader

I'll Try - Cullen Bohannon x Reader

Fallout 4

Welcome to Sanctuary - Nate/Sole Survivor x Reader

Overwatch

Cupcake - Jesse McCree X Reader/Cole Cassidy X Reader (Pls note, starting writing this before the name change, so name randomly changes)

Assassin's Creed

With a Little Luck and Grace - Shay Cormac x Reader

Blighter - Jacob Frye x Reader

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If you like my work, my tips are up and running here on tumblr, or I have a Patreon (mostly my own art and writing projects) and Kofi.

Thank you!