#assassins creed imagine

[thesharktanksdriver]

Blood's Thicker Than Water (Platonic)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But as a child you eventually put the thought away

Eventually you forget

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

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

It just seemed to grow the older you got

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

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

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

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

Nose buried in books lined with dust and old parchment

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

You studied from the ancients all the way up to Victorian

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

One well know to historians such as yourself

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

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

Ones well kept in archives and from the public eye

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

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

They for some reason seem to call to you specifically

Tempting you with forbidden knowledge you wish to taste like Eve

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

So you lie and wait

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

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

Hell you were in first year for gods sake

But somehow despite it all

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

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

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

You got to touch these artifacts

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

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

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

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

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

It’s great

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

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

Find new angles and perspectives on events

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

And even then sources can be biased

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

Your more than happy to try make your own interpretations

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

How could you not be?

Intricate gold woven in something akin to Grecian jewelry

Yet also had hints of something akin to Egyptian

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

Either way it’s an honour

One you don’t take lightly as you study it

Spending countless restless nights and days trying to crack its code

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

Betting big money on it much to your surprise and suspension

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

Especially since no one knows the name of the company

It’s just under an anonymous donation every month

It’s sketchy

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

Not when this beautiful place used to be underfunded

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

Not when this place was almost shut down

With a sigh you continue on your work

Diligently tact checking and writing up a storm

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

Well, along with being giant nerds

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

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

With a groan you wipe the blood away on your pants

Then going up to get a bandaid

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

Unknown to you the necklace starts to glow

When you get home your more exhausted than usual

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

Eyelids trying to glue themselves shut

You practically kick off your shoes before tumbling to the couch

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

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

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

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

But your mind writes it off

Your too tired to question anything let alone get up

All you want is sleep

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

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

Blurred images of odd men

A weird void-like realm

The cries of an eagle overhead

A single word appearing in your head

Kenway

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

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

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

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

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

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

And there you find several men in old garb

Accents of Red tying them together like a string of fate

Or a trail of blood fainting their very existence

they turn to you with sharp eyes

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

The face of your supposed dead father staring back at you

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

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

The bridge of your nose

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

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

Your posture as you decided what to do

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

Especially not when all of them are Kenway

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

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

You all but confirm his suspicions

Their suspicions

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

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

Neither were the other ones you looked at

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

It’s a lot to take in

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And in those cases things ended up fine

But now your faced with this

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

Cause logic is completely out the window at the moment

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

I mean, how couldn’t you be?

But you get the sense that they understand

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

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

So for now they’ll stay

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

Altaïr Ibn-La’ Ahad

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

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

Especially as he seems to find interest in your studies

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

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

So you indulge him

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

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

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

You answer as best you can

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

But he appreciates it anyways

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

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

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

But he does

He does and contributes whole heartedly in just as much passion

It’s nice

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

So now your both constantly coming up and developing ideas together

A constant back and forth

Hypotheses, discussion, and testing

Delving deeper into discovery like you’ve wanted

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

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

It drove who was left away

Made the pit in his heart deeper

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

And he warns you of it

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

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

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

He helps out and offers advice and guidance

Much like a teacher and grandfather of sorts

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Would I ever!”

Ezio Auditore da Firenze

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

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

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

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

Something that Ezio is seemingly trying to wrap his head around

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

Partially because you think he misses his immediate family and friends

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

Despite that though he keeps a brave face

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

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

Especially as he gives your poor hunched over back a break

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s happily rambling and teaching you words

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

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

But despite the facade you see the cracks

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

Or how Claudia would’ve liked this book

How Petruccio would have loved this toy

It….leaves a bitter taste in your mouth

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

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

One that would never come to fruition (until now)

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

Compared to the others he’s relatively open to modernizing

In fact he seems somewhat excited in these things

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

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

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

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

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

You call bullshit but have yet to find evidence

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

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

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

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

Meet Altair besides through a weird vision

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

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

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

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

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

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

Edward Kenway

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

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

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

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

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

Or more easily than he does with Haythem

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

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

You don’t talk

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

In his pursuit of power and gold he let people die

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

He changed and did good yet his past haunts him

Hands stained red

Guilt eating away

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

At some point when he stops his rambles you speak

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You see a human being at its core

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

One who was just as flawed as you and I

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mind blown

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

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

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

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

“Care to tell?”

“Aye, sure thing”

Haytham Kenway

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

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

From his father its confusion and sadness

The others it’s a mix of that and anger

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

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

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

A neutral zone so to say

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

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

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

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

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

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

Specifically when it comes to that of morals and philosophical beliefs

He is a conflicted man

A flawed one

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

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

Still seething with venom that burns his soul and flesh

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

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

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

What ideals and morals he still believes in even now

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To discuss your feelings of insucurity and confliction

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s…odd

With Connor he never had the chance to watch him grow

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

He feels melancholy

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

One that is seemingly being helped by your gentle hand unknowingly

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

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

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

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

Ratonhnhaké:ton/Connor Kenway

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And it’s the same likewise for him

Your both people deeply hurt and still bleeding internally

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

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

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

It’s odd but you feel truly understood

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In return you talk about what you know as well

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

An equal exchange of sorts

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

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

The times in which you need to breath

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

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

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

Taking you away to just take a moment for yourself

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

Letting the cold breeze take away your worries

It’s perhaps better than any type of verbal support

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

Of watching and knowing when you need a break

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

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

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

Connor is somewhat 50/50 in modernizing

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Desmond Miles

Yeah so this is entirely awkward for you

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

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

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

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

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

But then things got complicated

Things change

You began talking to the others

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

But you still try to avoid him

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

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

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

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

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

How would you even start?

What do you even say to him?

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

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

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

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

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

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

But what can you even do?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And your you

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

It hurts but it’s true

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

A mere blip or spark to the greater picture

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

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

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

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

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

But eventually he corners you

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

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

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

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

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

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

Small glances full of opportunities in them

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

Or even private benefactors of sorts

But then they turn their attention to you

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

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

They stand not too close nearby

Watching

Waiting

And then she begins talking

And slowly you grow more and more uncomfortable

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

They apparently are interested in your findings

In your research

But more specifically you

They’ve researched you…a lot

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

And your father

…but that’s not public knowledge

It wasn’t even on your birth certificate

This….this isn’t

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

Dangerous and sadistic of sorts

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

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

You didn’t mind

The less you know the better in that sense

Out of sight and out of mind

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

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

Abstergo

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

Mind drifting to that of panic

What would happen to you?

What will happen when the others find out?

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

When you wake up things are odd

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

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

Everything feels odd

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

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

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

A memory? Specifically one of your memories

Your staring at a simulation of sorts of your past self

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

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

Your left wordless and confused

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

This entire thing is a simulation of your memories

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

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

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

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

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

It hurts so damn much

Over and over

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

Left begging for it to stop

For someone to help

For the love of god someone help you make it stop

Of course this would happen to you

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

What utter bullshit

You can’t make good luck from bad

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

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

And your left in the void still reeling from it all

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

Blinding and bright as your still recovering

And then an unfamiliar voice tunes in

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Composed despite the chaos of it all

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

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

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

Footsteps far behind eventually stopping

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

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

Shay

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

Either way your grateful because how can you not be?

Your away from that place

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

Having the privacy of your memories looked at and prodded

But now your somewhat okay

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

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

but Shay doesn’t seem to mind

He offers an arm that you cling to for support

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

And then you notice his clothes are….old

Like Haytham and Connor level old

And…shit

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

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

Shays figure and presence is highlighted in a clover green

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

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

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

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

And the other person now attacking Shay

“Connor! He’s good! He saved me!”

“He’s a Templar!”

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

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

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

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

Both waiting on your word

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

“You’ve been gone for 4 days”

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

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

It’s….odd but nice

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

He looks like hell

But none of the others are any better either

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

Your home

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But with this entire situation it also highlights something bigger

Your not safe

None of you are safe

Perhaps you never truly were

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Only time can tell what will bring upon you next

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

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

But maybe you understand it a bit better now

#platonic #assassins creed x reader #assassins creed imagine #desmond miles x reader #ezio auditore x reader #ezio x reader #altair x reader #connor kenway x reader #haytham kenway x reader #shay cormac x reader #edward kenway x reader

[ridingtorohan]

𓇻 ft. ezio auditore x civilian gn reader

𓇻 summary. There's just you, Ezio, and a slow, sleepy morning on a rooftop.

𓇻 content. platonic or pre-relationship. pre-Brotherhood.

𓇻 enjoy! feel free to like, reblog, or send in asks!

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎read on ao3! - masterlist - join the taglist!

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Soft strands of sunlight crests over the city walls, dusting over the roof slates in a golden sheen. It’s beautiful and tranquil, the starlight fading overhead into hues of gentle light. Early dawn has you feeling cold, a little uncomfortable under the brisk air. Monteriggioni feels quiet beneath the sway of your feet, the small city silent with sleep. Ezio barely breathes - and when he does, it’s relaxed, the motion slow. He’s, somehow, not quite what you imagined and yet everything all at once. Quiet. For all the charismatic clamor you see him with, he watches over the city with a sense of calm that Claudia has never spoken of.

Aristocratic nose, fine cheekbones and firm jawline, Ezio was without a doubt a cut of the finest cloth. Boisterous. Loud. Everything you’ve heard spoken about him - and even seen him act. This is a tender side you didn’t know existed, hidden beneath swaths of fine armour and silky fabric. Looking at him as you do now, his presence almost muted beside you on the rooftop, he seems more man than myth. Gentler, almost, even with the garment of metal strapped to his wrists.

Despite all the armour he typically wears, the imposing and broad figure he cuts, he’s everything but. You’ve seen him out and about, moving along the rooftops and city walls, scrounging for feathers - you still didn’t quite understand that— and tending to mundane jobs. He’s even swept out an arm to guide children back to their feet after a tumble to the street. Which happens a fair bit, even to a young child from your extended family.

Thing is, while it happens a fair amount - Ezio is there to stop it. Always visiting, moving between houses and tending to the people with a spirit and jubilance that you haven’t even seen the Lord cherish the town with. He loves it like his own, a home far from his birthright.

You don’t know much about Ezio’s past, only gleaned some of it from gossip and from Claudia. Even that isn’t enough. Enough would be to hear it from his own lips, to have the man himself explain. But, the strange thing is, despite all the good tidings he gives to the town, when he’s alone with you like this, he grows somber. A million miles away, lost in a world you can’t comprehend.

Other days it’s good. He tends to you like every other townsperson in Monteriggioni, making sure you have everything you need. You’re not even sure how spending time with Ezio like this even happened - what you did to make him choose you. There are many ladies who express an interest in him, many soldiers who want privy into his skills. But he chooses you, takes you for strolls and stops first thing at your market stall when new produce is brought in.

Today is not one of those days.

“I am sorry,” he says then, voice hard in the growing daylight. Not because he’s harsh - never is— but because that’s just how his words sound. “My mind is … quite occupied today.”

“It’s okay,” you breathe out, because it is. It’s okay. You don’t question where his mind goes.

There’s a long moment of silence before Ezio quietly elaborates, “It is close to my Christening day.”

“Oh-” You pause and consider his tone. “I’m sorry.”

His expression twitches then, mirth dancing in his eyes, dark eyebrows knitting together. A small smile plays across his handsome face, fingers spreading across his thigh. “Thank you.” He laughs, an unused sound that rests deep in his throat. “Ah, I’m sure you’ve already heard of Claudia arranging a party, no?” Your pinched expression gives you away and his laugh deepens, eyes turning away.

“She wanted it to be a secret-” You stop yourself there by instinct. But Ezio doesn’t interrupt, he never has. He’s attentive that way, always listening to what you have to say, even if it’s about the soil or the worms in your garden. “You weren’t supposed to know about it.” “She always tries to make it a surprise,” Ezio responds, eyes tender as he looks at you.

“And yet you know of it anyway.” There’s a twitch of his scarred mouth when you speak.

“Mm.” He gives a slow nod of his head, leaning back, brown hair moving from his shoulder to spill over his back instead. Ezio closes his eyes, the hazy sunlight moving across his face as it climbs into the sky. “Has anyone invited you?”

“The whole town is going.”

“Yes, I imagine.” Ezio laughs slightly then. “I’m inviting you as my guest.” It feels like it should be a profound statement - something awe inspiring or an utterance to make you gasp. It doesn’t. Instead, all you feel is a low seeping warmth that touches the tip of your toes. You look down, swaying you feet over the edge of the roof. Ezio isn’t saying it to be polite - there’s something about the way he speaks and acts with you that makes you feel like he’s genuine.

“Thank you,” you say after a moment. “That’d be great.”

Ezio says nothing to that, though you can feel his eyes turn from you back towards the city at your feet. An emotional eclipse washes over you and you’re left feeling cold. Every moment with Ezio is like this - inviting, like summer days and fireflies. Like he sees who you are and accepts it.

There’s nothing for a long moment, just you and Ezio and the slow march of time. Dew glistens on the lower tiles, the rough texture cold beneath your palms. “Thank you for going,” he says - and the way he says it makes it feel more profound than it originally sounds. Like it matters to him, like your presence is something he basks in.

You look at him, at his battle worn features, weary lines smoothing into something almost peaceful. He needs moments like this, you realize. Needs it like you do - the companionship, the ease from everyday life. The slow, quiet mornings, the yawning pull of life. An insurmountable, insignificant second of life - every second that amounts to something more. Because he exists, you exist, and this moment exists.

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else,” you promise, meaning every word of it. You enjoy these mornings with him just as much as he does.

#assassin's creed #ezio auditore #ezio auditore x reader #assassin's creed x reader #:// bros I CANNOT type Monte's full name for the LIFE of me #:// put a gun to my head challenge me to spell it and I will assuredly die #assassins creed imagine #assassins creed #assassins creed x reader #assassins creed scenario #ezio auditore scenario #:// can't stop won't stop writing soft comfort scenes for the men who had NO RIGHT TO GO THROUGH ALL THIS #reader insert #x reader #x female reader #x male reader #x gn reader #assassin's creed x you #ac x you #ac x y/n #:// call out to that one conezio fanfic where ezio hates his birthday #:// would ezio actually act like this? Who knows! I certainly don't #:// but I imagine ezio as being... prone to melancholy sometimes and yknow reader would feel ''safe'' to him #Queue

[gaminggirls]

Dating Jacob Frye:

such a soft boy

loves having you close at all times 

physical touch is absolutely his love language 

would do anything for you 

kissing and making out all the time

once is never enough for Jacob 

super protective of you 

sometimes overly protective 

teasing each other loads

honestly the banter is top shelf 

he always has your back

Jacob is a great listener 

loves having you on his arm 

Evie for the life of her can’t understand how anyone would date her brother 

but she’s never the less happy for you both

Jacob loves you so much 

he’s always playing with your hair 

loads of sex

loves seeing you in his clothes 

Jacob has great respect and love for you 

he’s so in love he wants to shout it from the roof tops

no literally

one night the assassin got drunk and climbed to the roof and shouted about his love for you for half an hour 

he tries to be romantic

but in reality he more of an adorable dork 

constantly flirting with one another 

#jacob frye #jacob frye headcanons #jacob frye imagine #jacob frye x reader #ac syndicate #assassins creed #assassin's creed #assassins creed syndicate #assassin's creed syndicate #ac #assassin's creed headcanons #ac syndicate headcanons #assassins creed imagine #assassins creed headcanons #gaming #ac syndicate imagine

[gauntletsandflowers]

Contemplating writing a Jacob Frye fan-fiction where he meets a bubbly and eccentric painter who just moved to London.

#assassin's creed #evie frye #jacob frye #frye twins #ac syndicate #assassins creed syndicate #assassins creed imagine #fryenation #jacob frye imagine #jacob frye x reader #assassins creed x reader

[kiatheinsomniac]

Heya! Hope you're staying hydrated and I wish you the best for your exams! This might sound like a silly request and you're free to ignore it, but can I get some hcs of Ezio, Arno, and Jacob having an s/o who never told them their birthday until a day or week after it passed? I kinda find the idea funny lol

e z i o :

he gets it, he doesn't really celebrate his own birthday anymore

all parties have been organised by Leonardo and/or Rosa with the help of his family

but he wants to do something special for you!

nothing big, he likely just buys you a present and makes a nice dinner and you spend the evening together

all while he wishes you a happy belated birthday

a r n o :

is devastated he could have had the chance to devote all day to doting over you - and you let that chance slip through his fingers?

depending on whether or not you're a party person, he will either arrange a party in the café-theatre or he'll plan out a day where he can take you out sightseeing, shopping, etc and finish the day off with a nice dinner in the café-theatre for you

he makes sure to remember the date next year, you're not escaping his affections twice

j a c o b :

you're the most important person in the world to him so he's a little upset that you thought of your birthday as something not worth mentioning

he organises a get-together of all your closest friends to have a belated celebration for you

and he drives Evie mad trying to get her help to find the perfect gift for you, he wants it to be super personal and meaningful instead of something generic

#ezio auditore x reader #ezio auditore #arno dorian x reader #arno dorian #jacob frye x reader #jacob frye #assassins creed headcanons #assassins creed imagine #assassins creed x reader #assassins creed

[asscrackcreed]

Taking a Break (Smut)

Haytham x gn!Reader | Commission by @enby-coffin

Prompt: I'm interested in a Haytham x gn!reader. Most fanfics I see of him, he's always suave and flirtatious, but I'd like to see one where the reader initiates the romance. Cause he's a workaholic and doesn't want to take the time to meet people.

Note: MAN I'M SO NERVOUS TO POST THIS - Commissions are open!

-

“I just have a little more work to finish.”

“And what about your other responsibilities?” You huffed, “Like me?”

Haytham slunk back in his chair, one arm resting on the chair and the other propped on its elbow with his fingers alongside his face. The way he draped himself on the chair shot a sense of arousal through you. The sigh he let out was followed by your name. You were leaning on his desk, looking over him. The light of the candle danced on his face. He seemed to have his own glow. The light of the moon accompanied the candlelight illuminating the room. Window open, the soft breeze brushed his hairs, tied loosely in his red hair tie. Haytham himself was keen on concentrating. He noticed your eyes gazing around at him, a smirk tugged at his lips and so he held his hand out for you. Pushing yourself off the desk, you finally turned to stand before him. Taking his hand, his eyes traced over your figure before darting back at your own eyes. With a tug you made him stand up, one hand cupping your face whilst the other wrapped around your waist. He watched as you inched your face closer, a soft peck. He whispered your name before pecks became kisses. His lips were ever so gentle on your own, but for you it wasn’t enough. So you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him further into you. The kisses were strong and wet. Slight groans melted into your lips as your hands travelled down his body.

You didn’t break the kiss as your hands started exploring his legs. One hand traced over the already slight bulge on his thigh and the other grabbing Haytham’s face. Haytham hands were on your waist in anticipation. His body was far more excited than he might have shown. The twitch on your hand didn’t go unnoticed as you started rubbing the wet clothed tip faster. Haytham’s grunt moulded into the kiss when he finally mustered the courage. His hand snaked to the back of your neck, deepening the hot kisses. With him quietly moaning into your mouth, you undid the button of his trousers.

Quick shuffling around led to Haytham’s hardened cock in the grips of your hand. Leaning onto the desk, his head fell back whilst your hand slowed as it slid to the base. Back up to the tip, Haytham’s pre-cum leaking down his shaft and your hand. The movement was agonising, and he was not a very patient man. Haytham opened his mouth to complain only to be cut off by the friction and the added grip, he bit back a moan. The control within your hand made you feel powerful. The teasing worsened as your tongue lapped up all the pre-cum. Haytham’s hand moved to the back of your head, his heavy breaths followed by a groan. As you took the tip into your mouth, your tongue swirled around whatever was in your mouth. Your eyes looking up at the heated man’s face, eyes half-lidded, mouth slightly open, hands gripping the arms of the chair while his chest rose and fell quickly. The sight of such a self-composed man becoming weak with the little touching that you’ve done spurred you on to take him further into your mouth. Haytham watched your head bob up and down, his hand slightly pushing you down as he heard the slick noises come out of you. He felt like he was on fire, your tongue working just as hard as your mouth. Your hollowed cheeks, struggling slightly at the length and girth of his burning cock, made Haytham louder. Slight hissing led to biting his lip which led to a strong grip stopping you.

Looking up, he tugged at your hair a little to pull you off. Neither of you could remember to move his important papers out of the way as he bent you over. Your clothing was quickly removed and the warmth was replaced by his hands. Massaging, memorising the shape and beauty of your skin. Kissing along and down your spine, his fingers grazed your hole. Keen to tease you, he only pushed slightly in and out, enough to cause a whine from your lips.

“Please…” The plead caused a slight smirk to play on his lips

“Yes, dear?”

“Fuck me.”

And so his fingers pushed in. Stretching slightly in anticipation for his cock that he knew would fill every inch of your hole. His fingers were only giving you a taste of what his cock could do inside you. The curling of his fingers only made your grip tighter on the desk, his lips continuing to attack on your back. The marks left behind and your further pleas spurred him on. The arousal made Haytham leak further as his cock brushed against your thighs.

Once the frustration grew, Haytham was merciful enough to remove his fingers. The desperation to fill you up grew evident as his hungry eyes watched as your readied hole ached for his equally hungry cock. Pressing the tip in, Haytham hissed, leaning his body onto yours. Both the sweat and heat mixed as his hips swung slowly. His cock buried deep at first, taking a second for the both of you to adjust to each other. His hands gripped on your hips, the movements of his own hips first slow. The heat and tightness of your hole squeezed onto Haytham who could only moan in response. He listened to your quickened breath, the creak of the desk and the rustling of his papers. The room began to fill with stifled moans. You had to beg more and more just for Haytham to listen to you. And he was merciful enough to finally give it to you. As though he had enough torture, Haytham rocked his hips faster. Head against the desk, hands gripped against the edge, Haytham pushed your legs further apart. He fucked you. He fucked you like he would never hve the courtesy of doing so again. He fucked you like it was a privilege that he was so lucky to have. The desk creaked and the legs scraped against the floor. Your head had become almost dizzy with pleasure. His cock continued to hit the right spot forcing every moan out of you. Skin on fire, you couldn’t help but groan his name continuously. Despite not being able to see his face, the hunger in his eyes was enough to keep him almost rabid-like. He left your neck in kisses and saliva, devouring whatever skin his mouth could reach. His moans melted into your skin, fingers moulding into the skin of your hips. You felt like you could cum any minute, the tension below continued to tug.

“I… I can’t…”

“Finish with me.”

Your back pressed against his front, both covered in sweat and tired. Thrusts lazily turning into grinding. Your head fell back and your eyes squeezed shut. Moans turning into needy whines. Haytham’s strong thrusts became slow, giving a few more pumps before you crashed onto the desk. The room fell almost silent with you both catching your breath.

Your legs shook slightly as Haytham pressed soft kisses along your back. His hands rubbing your sex as you eased down from your orgasm. Haytham pulled you onto his lap after sitting down on the chair. You turned your head to place soft and lazy kisses on his lips. Both quiet in each other's embrace as you cooled down. His skin felt soft against yours, arms wrapped around your waist. 

“I do have to finish this work.”

“You’re so stubborn… After all this, you won’t even let me enjoy your company?”

Haytham rolled his eyes, “Alright, I won’t hear anymore complaints. Let’s go to bed.”

#haytham kenway #haytham kenway x reader #smut #fanfiction #assassin's creed #ac #assassin's creed 3 #assassins creed 3 #ac3 #haytham kenway imagine #commission #assassins #assassins creed #assassins creed imagine #assassins creed imagines #assassin's creed imagine #assassin's creed imagines #ac imagines #ac imagine

[elsdaydreams]

Selfish (requested by anonymous)

Malik x Gender-Neutral!Reader

Warnings - none.

Word Count - 592 words.

Description - The days in which you and Malik slept in were few and far between. So perhaps it's not selfish for you to revel in the rare moments. | “Playing with their hair while their head’s in your lap.” For Malik Al-Sayf if you have the time, thank you!

Authors Note - In a completely shocking not at all expected turn of events, I went m.i.a. on this page. My love for these characters, however, never left. I am active occasionally, just have had major, major, things going on in my personal life. It's such a safe space for me to take time off from writing, but to come back is so relieving. I love writing, and this page will always be the place I come back to. If you're still here, still looking to see if I've written something new, still liking my old works, know that I appreciate you infinitely. I'm never far off, so if you ever feel like leaving me an ask, you can always do that (even if I don't respond, I do see them!) I hope you enjoy this little drabble that I absolutely did not proofread at all. Ella

Your body woke up before your mind did. Shifting underneath a familiar weight, you felt groans of protest from the man laying on top of you. Your hands flung up to what you assumed was his head, his short fluffy hair meeting your fingertips affirmed to you that it was. Sleepily, and with your eyes closed you stroked aimlessly.

Behind your eyelids the sun gleamed onto the two of you. It was unusual for the two of you to be in bed so late, but the lack of urgency to be up and doing something was relaxing. Even now that your mind had begun the process of waking up, aware that it was daytime and there was likely things you could be doing, ultimately it was easier to bask in the sun with the love of your life curled up next to you.

You were positive that the pair of you hadn't gone to sleep this way, with him practically on top of you. The nights brought a chill that the day did not have, and as natural as it was during the day for you to find each other, your bodies seemed to unconsciously do the same during sleep. Maybe it was the fact that you were already starting to feel the uncomfortable heat from the sun that caused you to stir. It didn't help that Malik was practically a human furnace, his body temperature always unusually warm.

Against your chest, you heard him begin to stir, your eyes not open still to preserve the laziness you felt in your bones, but the groggy mumblings seemed to draw you in. Knowing that he would be the one you could look at seemed worth breaking the peace of sleep. Finally, prying the sleep from your lids, they peered into the familiar room, locking onto the man with a sense of deep love. It wasn't often you got to feel protective over Malik. He was often reminding you, chastising you that he was grown, that he could take care of himself, that he had for many years. When he was resting, however, you got to enjoy feeling a bit protective over him, cuddling into the rather cozy feeling it brought you.

You'd memorized everything there was to know about the man, yet your eyes took him in with reverence. The scar that was just barely there above his eyebrows, which were thick and almost always in a deep scowl. The sleep warded that away though the remnants of it were still there, in the wrinkles that remained as a permanent reminder of the familiar face. Your eyes traced down from the etched lines to his nose, and his lips, and the stubble along the cheeks and jawline. He would probably shave it down soon, Malik liked a shorter facial hair himself, protested when it got too long. You didn't mind the peculiarities that he had, in fact you reveled in them, in him.

If he knew what you were thinking about, he would likely stoically roll his eyes at you, once again reminding you that he was not a novice assassin that you trained. Still, the blush on his cheeks would betray him at once, promising an appreciation of someone caring so deeply for him.

For now, you would enjoy the feeling, of caring for him freely in the sanctity of the space the two of you created. For now, you would enjoy the warmth between the two of you, the hair so familiar underneath your fingertips. For now, you would simply watch him sleep.

#malik al sayf x reader #malik x reader #malik al sayf #assassins creed #assassins creed drabble #assassins creed fic #assassins creed imagine

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Caress My Soul ~ Malik Al’Sayf x Katrina

Thank you my dear @rebelspykim​ for jumping to help me with this aesthetic as soon as I mentioned this one shot idea~ <3

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“Brother? Who is that?” a young Kadar tugged on his older brother’s sleeve as they watched from a corner as an assassin in training, roughly around Malik’s age, was continuously fighting using martial arts against his foes in the middle of the training ground. “That’s Haakim. He’s the only assassin our age that trains to become a physician. He can be pretty weird sometimes, and he’s very quiet and antisocial, but he’s a kind soul. Do you want to befriend him?” the 10 year old Malik chuckled, patting his brother’s head. “Oh yes, that’d be great! He’s really good at fighting! I think he’s almost as good as you and Altair!” the young one was exceedingly excited. “Ah, ah, that’s enough, Kadar, quiet down. Pay attention to his fighting style, it’s unique. His physique is much frailer than ours, despite his training, so he came up with moves that use the opponent’s strength against them, and he’s using his reflexes, speed and agility to confuse and feint the enemy.” the young boy standing out for being the only one of their age fighting with his hood up was seen to easily raise his foot up and hit his heel on the opponent’s chin, making them fall to the ground, only to turn around and throw the other enemy over his shoulder. As if he heard them, Haakim raised his hand to stop the training, and took a towel to wipe away the sweat away, as he stepped towards the two Al’Sayf brothers. Raising his hand up, he patted Malik’s head, making the boy stare bewildered by the action. “Malik – Your name shows you were born to be a King, so do not gossip, but lead. You have all the qualities for that.” He chuckled, turning his attention towards the younger one. “And you – You must be Kadar. It is my honour meeting you, young one.” Haakim crouched to get to Kadar’s level, extending his hand for him to shake. “Ah – N-No, the honour is mine! Malik – You said he’s antisocial, but he came to befriend us!” embarrassed at his brother’s blunt denouncing, and he barked his name as a scolding. “It is quite alright, your brother is not wrong. I have long since realized I can be… An oddity, amongst those my age.” Haakim let out an amused exhale, defusing the situation. “O-…Oddi-…Tee?” Kadar muttered, but was unable to reproduce the word. “It means weird. People think I’m weird.” The boy’s innocence only amused the boy further. “Weird? But you’re not weird. You went out of your way to come to talk to us. You must be really nice, like my brother said!” at these words, not only Malik slapped the back of his head, but Haakim started laughing. “I am flattered, thank you, you two. You are both very kind.” He nodded his head, getting up. “Kadar… Your name… It is a destiny for you to become incredibly powerful. You will have success and good fortune in the future, if only you keep training and working hard.” The boy praised the young one, who seemed so happy with the praise that he was almost but bouncing up and down. “You really think so?! Malik, Malik, did you hear him?! He said I’ll become really strong! I’ll become like you and Altair one day! I’ll become like papa!” though Malik knew that the boy’s words were mere kindness, he still nodded in gratefulness at making his brother happy – Although, he noticed, through that dark hood, that as soon as Kadar mentioned their father, Haakim’s smile faltered a bit. “Become stronger and wiser than even your father. That is the meaning of future generations, to become better than the old ones. Progress, thirst for knowledge, ambition and hard work.” His words were wise, and Malik knew that no matter how much he loved and admired his father, he wasn’t as wise, calm or strategic as he’d like. But Malik was always praised for his intelligence, and he was going to make use of it. “HAAKIM!”  before Malik or Kadar could thank the boy for his time, a voice called out to him, making him spaz backwards in a second. It was just Altair. “Stop wasting time, we’re supposed to go climbing.” “…Patience is a virtue you will never learn, Altair…” Malik could barely stop his snort of amusement as he heard Haakim’s snide comment. “Thank you for your time, you too. Be well.” With a lazy salute, the boy ran after Altair, and the two started running away – They might be racing or something. “Haakim was so nice, brother! Can we befriend him? Pretty please?” seeing how excited his little brother as, Malik could only nod with a smile on his face.

Since then, Malik and Kadar would make sure to always go and salute Haakim, whether he was training, or wanted to eat with someone by his side. As soon as the young one was old enough, Haakim agreed to help him train in hand to hand combat, though he would never beat Malik at a proper sword fight… At least, not without the use of cheap tricks. Everything is permitted during a life or death fight, though, and the boy had to accept that.

Though 15 years passed since they first started speaking to each other on friendly terms, Malik realized that he  knew absolutely nothing about Haakim. Standing inside the healer’s quarters, watching the man work hard day and night to save all of his patients, or watching him train, or study… And when he wasn’t doing either of that, he was nowhere to be seen. He knew nothing of his family, if he was an orphan, if he had any siblings – Hell, he didn’t even know if he had a last name at this point. Still, it didn’t seem to bother Kadar at all, and he was getting along very well with him, and truth be told, so was he. He wasn’t obnoxious or arrogant or vain like everyone thought he was, he was just shy and awful at making conversation… Though, considering how dumb and annoying most of the other assassins their age, he couldn’t blame him for choosing solitude over that idiocy.

The best strategy to finding out more was clearly making Kadar ‘innocently’ ask something more personal while they were eating lunch -  It was perfect to watch his reaction too… Though, Haakim never took off his hood. It was the weirdest thing Malik has ever seen, and though Kadar asked once, the answer was that he was ashamed of a nasty scar he got in his childhood. But Malik didn’t buy it. He must be lying, but why, he could not tell.

“Haakim – I really wanted to ask you something. And it’s very important. VERY important! You MUST answer me!” seeing how impatient and needy he was, the man motioned for him to go on and speak. “Do you have a sister?!” hearing that question, Haakim spit out his food and coughed violently. “S-Sister? Why would you think so?” the man, if you could see his face, had a horrified expression on his face. “Well… Some boys made fun of me for not having a girlfriend… And I thought that, maybe, if you had a sister, she would have been as awesome as you, and… Maybe… If you didn’t mind…” but the more he spoke, Malik could see the grimace Haakim’s lips made… He seemed terrified and ready to flee on the spot, for some odd reason. “No, I… Well… Yes, I… I do. But, uh… I don’t know if, uh… If she’s… Interested in, uh… Being with a man…” Haakim stumbled over his words awkwardly, barely making any sense. “So you mean she’s interested in women?” Kadar’s eyes went wide, making Haakim drop the plate of food in his lap and wave his hands aggressively in a negative motion. “N-No, No, nothing like that! I just mean that, uh… O-Our parents, they, uh… No, I mean, she’s uh… She’s very shy, and she’s always at home, and, uh… She doesn’t know anything about men, a-and, uh…” Lies. Blatant lies. Malik could see how awful his lies was, though it was interesting, or he knew Haakim as a great deceiver, when he wanted, and he was always cool headed and collecte whenever he spoke, so why was he so agitated now? “Oh, really? But you’re a man, why don’t you tell her? Or, don’t tell me… You’ve never been with a woman before?! Come on, everyone has, you can’t tell me – But you’re so awesome, you can’t tell me you can’t get women to like you!” though the conversation was hilarious, even he got a little embarrassed by Kadar’s shamelessness. “No, I… I haven’t. I don’t… I’m busy. I have a lot of training and studying to do, I don’t have time for leisure activities of a social life.” The poor man tried to play it cool, though his hands were trembling. “Can I meet your sister, then? Or – Let’s all hang out together! It should be fun! I mean – You got more social after hanging out with us, maybe she’ll get out of her shell too! Your parents must be really proud of you two.” The conversation was obviously making the physician more and more uncomfortable by the second, for he got up and turned around, leaving towards the castle. “I apologise for my rudeness, I have to return to my duties.” But before he could leave, Kadar called out for him. “At least tell us her name, please!” begrudgingly, Haakim spoke a name out loud. “Katrina.”

 Since then, Haakim avoided speaking about his private life again, and when Kadar tried to ask question after question again, he simple left, not answering to any other question. Malik’s plan failed, but now, at least, he found out that this one had a sister with a very beautiful name. But it was awful, because now, he got even more curious, and he wanted to know more.

But where was she? Did Haakim and his family had a separate house, somewhere really far away from the Masyaf castle? Were they hiding intentionally? Was that why he never invited them over? Not that they did… But the more Kadar was trying to get up and personal with Haakim, and quieter he’d get, and the more he tried to avoid them. He almost seemed now like that arrogant Altair who wouldn’t bother speaking to people, thinking himself above all the others for becoming a Master Assassin at the youngest age recorded. Still, he knew it wasn’t the case. That’s how he was born, and he couldn’t blame him.

He did his job perfectly well, hence why, he became the chief of the Healing Department, and he’s saved countless of people who were thought to be hopeless, he came up with revolutionary medicine, drugs, topics and ointment, and even surgery procedures, things that seemed above and beyond anything Malik could even imagine. No wonder Al Mualim was seeing Haakim as one of his favourites, though, unlike that bloody Altair, this one seemed to never get any favoritism. It was almost pitiful.

Somehow, the stars answered to his prayers though, and his curiosity was going to be quenched soon, as Altair came over to him and threw a package in his hands. “Give this to Haakim tonight. It’s something he requested I get for him from my latest mission. I’d have gone myself, but Al Mualim is sending me urgently on another mission.” Thus, he explained how to get here, and sent him off.

It was, by far, the perfect opportunity, and just about the only good thing Altair ever did in his whole entire life. It was already night by the time Malik was able to go to Haakim’s house – From afar, it seemed to be rather big, and settled next to the water, and it was surrounded by various well taken care of plants and flower. It was beautiful. Maybe his parents, or him himself was able to gain this much money to get such a villa.

Before he could step in front of the door and knock, however, the sound of singing, a voice so crystalline and beautiful that he thought some kind of spirit of arts, some divine angel was blessing his ears like a lullaby made to enchant him. He was drawn towards the back of the house, and he hid behind the wall as he watched a beautiful silhouette dancing with her feet on in the shallow water. This must be Haakim’s sister, Malik thought, as he couldn’t keep his eyes away from the stunning woman before him.

In the moonlight, the light blue of the outfit highlighted the sheer material, revealing a delicate form that moved with such grace and elegance – He was completely entranced by her. The golden jewellery was sparkling, and so did the gems, but none as powerful as those light eyes of hers… And that hair, so unusual, kissed by fire, falling down her back like a crimson cascade, dancing in tandem with the flow of her body.

Just like Kadar mentioned, he had been with women before, and he’s seen dancers and beautiful females before, dressed intricately and rich, showing of lascivious moves and wearing bold make up… But none compared to the one before his eyes. Without realizing, he stepped towards her, but he had no idea that she would turn around, only to stop stunned in her tracks, a horrified look on her face and unable to move an inch. She merely let out a small squeak of fright and jumped backwards, her hands covering her face, as if hiding timidly.

“Forgive me for startling you, that was not my intention. You must be Katrina, Haakim’s sister. I am a friend of his. Altair told me to send him this package.” Though, despite speaking, the girl still didn’t move. “Could you give this to him?” The girl slowly nodded her head at him, but didn’t speak. “Are you afraid of me?” the girl shook her head as a negative. “Then why aren’t you speaking to me?” “… I-I’m shy.” Her voice was so soft, barely audible even, completely different to the strong and alluring singing from just before. “S-Sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you, Malik.” “Oh? How did you know my name?” if her body was rigid before, now, she looked like a statuette. “A-Ah… Th-That’s because… Because… Y-You said you’re Haakim’s friend. He, uh… He has no other friends… Except you and Kadar. And, uh… Kadar, he said, is a bit more… Uh… Talkative.” The girl explained, though, through her fingers, Malik noticed that beautiful shade of green, as her eyes were darting around, looking for an excuse. It was such an awful lie, that it reminded him of Haakim’s own poor attempt at lying to him and Kadar about his private life. No wonder they are siblings, they share the same mannerism… And height. And jawline. “Ah, I see. Then, I am honoured to know that Haakim considers me his friend as well.” He wanted so hard to smirk and tease her more, but he was also afraid of startling her even more. “Y-Yes, he does. Uhm… Since you came all the way here, I, uh… Let me make you some tea, as a thank you. F-From Haakim, I mean! B-But he’s not at home now.” The man watched attentively as the girl let her hands down at a slow pace and hung her head as she stepped towards him and took the package from his hands. Her face was beyond beautiful, and that dark make up only made those eyes glimmer even brighter than the moon. Though her hands were trembling, he noticed her hands weren’t as impeccably delicate and soft as other women’s were, but going by the wealthy life-style she lived, he couldn’t understand what kind of work could she have done that would leave the faintest trail of coarseness and small callouses on some of her fingers. “I hope I’m not intruding. Thank you for your hospitability.” He spoke, following her inside the house. As soon as he stepped inside, he looked around, and it was furnished rich, but with style. It wasn’t cluttered, and it had lots of colourful plants and flowers – Though, the highlight of the whole house was probably how it was a bit messy with tons of medical supplies and equipment scattered around the house, but somehow, it gave a lot of personality. “Y-You’re not intruding at all. Haakim’s friends are always welcomed here.” Quickly, she put a large shawl to cover her indecent outfit and brought the man a tea. “You’re all alone here? No parents?” the girl seemed troubled as she shook her head as a negative. “No. It’s, uh… Just myself and Haakim. Our parents died, uh… About 15 years ago.” She spoke remorselessly, and a bit harsh, he thought. “But Haakim is almost all the time at… Work. Are you all alone here at night, all the time?” he asked, raising his eyebrow questioningly. “I know you’re Assassins it’s alright. And, uh… Yeah. I’m mostly alone, but it’s alright, I’m not afraid. I don’t think people even know where this house is. I don’t think I’ll have thieves any time soon.” She seemed to be rather sure of herself. “Still, it’s not safe for a lone woman to be alone. I’ll scold him tomorrow when I see him. He should take care of his sister better.” The look of disdain that she presented made him barely able to stifle a chuckle. She seemed to be desperately trying to hide something, but he had no idea what. “It’s quite alright, please don’t scold him, he’ll start hiding or something. You’re the only friend he has, he needs you. Altair changed too much. He forgot where he came from. He forgot his friends. He forgot even the creed. You’re the only one he has.” Katrina looked away, hiding the sadness and concern on her face, though her voice was sincere and genuine. “Alright, alright. You’re his sister, you know better. Thanks for the welcome, and make sure you lock the door before I leave. Safety and peace, Katrina.” As he got up, however, he didn’t realise that one of his sleeves was splattered with fresh blood. “Ah, Malik, wait! Are you hurt?” with unexpected confidence, Katrina rushed towards the man and raised his sleeve, revealing a long, gaping wound. “Oh, no, how could you ignore this? Go sit down, I’ll treat it right away.” She dragged him back and she rushed to some back room, bringing a handful of supplies. “I didn’t even realise I got injured on my mission. You shouldn’t worry so much, it’s nothing I can’t handle. Haakim can fix it in the morning.” He tried to calm the girl down, but the frown on her face shocked him. “I’m just as good as Haakim at healing!” she burst, before hanging her head, allowing her long hair to hide her face. “S-Sorry for yelling at you. I didn’t mean to. I just… Uh… I can’t stand injured people, that’s all.” She muttered, as she disinfected the wound. It was, as he said, not as bad as she thought, and it was mostly stained blood. “I’ve seen small, insignificant wounds festering and killing people. We, uh… We don’t like playing chances.” “Well, then I suppose I should thank you. You are obviously very dexterous and have great knowledge. Haakim was right when he praised you for being smarter than him.” The girl looked up at him, confused. “Did he?” she blinked, almost as if she couldn’t remember anything of the sort. “Yes, he did. He also said you’re very beautiful. He was right both times.” He threw another bait for her. “You’re lying.” The man raised a questioning eyebrow. “Haakim would never say that. In fact, I’m surprised he even mentioned me at all. He doesn’t like drawing attention to him or me.” Malik chuckled, nodding his head. “I apologise, I was teasing you. You know Haakim best, after all. Thank you, again. I hope to be seeing you again.” He spoke, getting up and towards the door. “… See you a-again…” her voice was back to the mousy, timid one from just before, but he didn’t mind. In fact, Malik didn’t lie, and neither did she – They both wanted to keep the promise of reunion.

Though Al’Sayf was busy most of the time with his missions, he’d occasionally find a few spare minutes to go by Haakim’s and Katrina’s house, always bringing her whatever little token he could find from his missions, though, their little rendez-vous remained a secret from both of their siblings. The more time they spent together, the more the woman was able to let loose and speak more around him, though she never did anything as bold as to sing or dance before him, hell, she never wore make up anymore, and she only dressed modestly. She couldn’t even look him in the eyes. It was rather endearing to the man though, and he enjoyed speaking to her, listening to her wisdom and her unintentional humour, even going as far as to tell him some of Haakim’s silly stories from work.

He wanted to court her so badly, but how could he tell Haakim that he wants to court his sister? Or, rather, that when he wasn’t home, he would visit her, in the dead of night, and share a quality conversation?

Just as he found his chest bursting with emotions and need for that beautiful woman, he went to the man and confessed. But the answer was a very harsh negative. Why would he get so defensive? He didn’t even ask his sister what she wanted. How arrogant and controlling of him. “Haakim, reconsider, please. Did you even ask Katrina what she wants?” “She’s way too young to be dating, Malik! She’s an inexperienced child who’s afraid of men, she always runs away from them and she can’t even get the courage to speak to them.” He got quickly defensive. “She is not a child, Haakim, she is our age. Stop treating her like some clueless child, she’s not as afraid as you think she is. Maybe you don’t know her as well as she knows you.” This comment left the man completely flabbergast. “If you love your sister as much as you say you do, how about you return home and have a talk to her, see what she wants, what she’s feeling. 15 years ago, you told me I had every quality to one day lead, and that means being able to talk reason into people.” “W-Wait, Malik!” Haakim called out to the leaving man. “Katrina… Has a secret. And she’s very afraid that, if you found out, you’d hate her forever. She… She told me she cares about you, but she’s afraid, alright? So… So… Just give her a little more time. She’s never trusted anyone before. You saw her, she’s odd. She doesn’t fit in this society. You were kind to her, that’s why she really appreciates you… I’m… I’m her brother, I can’t help but be protective over her, I’m sure you get it. She’s… Too innocent for her own good.  I know you’re a great man, Malik, and I wouldn’t trust her to anyone else. I know you’d treat her right.” Haakim’s desperate confession made the man turn around and look at the hooded physician, and nodded. “See? It’s not that difficult to have a conversation, is it? I understand what you’re saying. Whenever she’s ready to trust me…” but before he could finish his conversation, Altair got into the room and called for both of them to follow him to Al Mualim’s office.

There, them and even Kadar were given a mission that they must not fail. The Master could only trust them and them alone with the success. They were to steal some kind of relic from the Templars that were plotting and scheming inside Solomon’s Temple, so they needed only the wittiest, smartest, stealthiest and strongest assassins.

Together, they made their way through the maze-like temple, in the underground, managing to avoid getting caught – However, Altair spotted one of the guards, a simple, unarmed man that was standing in the middle of the tunnel. Though Malik urged him not to kill him, the Master Assassin couldn’t resist the temptation to show off his fantastic assassination skills.

“An excellent kill!” Kadar praised him with admiration. “Fortune favours your blade.” “Not fortune – Skill. Watch a while longer, and you might learn something.” Altair’s arrogance was poisoning the atmosphere. “Skill? What kind of skill do you need to keep a man with his back turned? Have all your praises died, and now, you must seek any ounce of glory you can, from needless bloodshed?” Haakim was in an unusually snarky mood, the brothers remarked. Though they weren’t as close as when they were younger, Haakim still viewed Altair as an important person in his life and respected him. But this friendship did not come before the sanctity of life. “Indeed. He’ll teach you how to disregard everything the Master’s taught us.” Malik agreed, turning to his little brother. “And how would you two have done it?” Altair seemed aggravated by the scolding. “I would not have drawn attention to us. I would not have taken the life of an innocent.” Malik was as annoyed by this ruthlessness, as much as the healer was. “What I would have done is follow the creed.” “Nothing is true. Everything is permitted. Learn these words. It is not how we complete our tasks, only that it’s done.” Haakim couldn’t help but bite his lip, remembering his own voice saying those very words, over a decade ago. “But that is not the way—“ Malik tried to argue, but was quickly cut off. “MY way is better.” Haakim wanted to grab Altair’s shoulders and knee him in the face. This wasn’t his old, childhood friend! He’s changed so much since his falling out with Abbas, it was unreal. “Malik, do not bother with him. He’s way beyond hopeless. Let us scout ahead.” Despite Malik and Haakim going further, the other two followed close behind until they reached the platform from where they could stare down at the busy Templars.

The air was ominous, and the solemn atmosphere was making Haakim’s heart feel heavy. Something was going to go terribly wrong. All but Altair were crouched, making sure to stay hidden away from the enemies’ sight, as they discussed whatever it was that the Templars uncovered. It must have been something very precious, that both sides wanted. Still, the Master Assassin, in his overconfidence, was ready to proclaim Robert de Sable as his own kill.

“No.” Malik’s refusal was strict. “We were told to retrieve the treasure and deal with de Sable ONLY if necessary.” “He stands between us and it. I’d say it’s necessary.” He tried to rationalize his need for murder. “Discretion, Altair!” Malik was getting angrier by the minute, with this stubborn mule. “You mean cowardice.” He refuted. “You are going to compromise the whole brotherhood with your antics, Altair! Have you no mind at all anymore?! Has all that pride erased every bit of brain you had left?!” Haakim insulted the man, who, enraged, grabbed him roughly by the front of his uniform, his fists clenched into the material. “What would some skimpy physician who hides away in the shadows know anything about being an assassin?” his face was so dangerously close to his face that Haakim was almost sure he would get his face bitten by the rabid dog. “That man is our greatest enemy, we have now the greatest opportunity to get rid of him.” “We are outnumbered, Altair! We stand no chance, no matter how Almighty your Assassin skills are!” Haakim sneered, uncaring of how awful it was, being almost lifted up from the ground with such ease. “You’ve already broken two tenets of our creed, now, you would break the third. Do not compromise the brotherhood – And do not attack your allies!” he slapped away his hands from his friend, allowing him to be back on the ground. “I am your superior – In both title AND ability. You should know better than to question ME.” Altair, too, was unable to keep his emotions under control. “You may be stronger, but you’re certainly not smarter!” but Altair didn’t answer anymore – Instead, he shoved Haakim aside and went down the ladder and marched to the Templar king like a stag. “Look at him! He’s going to get us all killed! What do we do?!” “That empty-headed, stubborn jackass! We have to stop him.” We a nod to each other, they quickly followed the idiot, but were unable to catch him before he leapt to kill the taller and much burlier foe. “ALTAIR, NO!” but it was far too late. Robert de Sable caught the so-called Master Assassin with such effortless ease, head-butting him and overpowering him, before throwing him outside of the Temple premises, before alarming his allies to kill the rest of the assassins.

The two called out to Kadar to flee before – Poor boy wasn’t anywhere close to their skills, he stood no chance at all, but Malik was so loyal to the Master that he made sure to steal relic before everyone’s eyes… Everyone but de Sable, who got his sword up, ready to cut him down in two.

“Don’t touch him!” Haakim’s angry voice called out as he shoved himself hard into Robert’s side, making him miss and only slice Malik’s arm. Though his balance was off for a split second, he wasn’t anywhere near being overwhelmed by the small male, whom he punched in the face with that metal glove of his, and he tried to slice away at the physician, but before his head could be cut, he got quickly grabbed by the back of his uniform – His hood fell, and the blade went over his eye. Haakim let out a pained gasped and quickly covered his bleeding eye, not even realizing that his hair was now visible.

“Ha! Look at that! The best the Assassins can do is hire women to fight for them, how pitiful!” this comment wasn’t left unheard, but the assassin quickly hid again and tried to run away, pushing Malik, only to get grabbed and pushed to the ground. “Malik! Haakim! Quickly!” Kadar called out alarmed, from up on the platform. “Malik, run! Run!” Haakim yelled, managing to stab the one of the enemies in the wrist and ran away, not without getting another ugly slash on his thigh. He couldn’t feel it, the adrenaline was too high, and he leapt, grabbing Malik an running after Kadar, and out of the Temple, back towards Masyaf’s castle. “Are you two alright?” Haakim was panting, exhausted – He really hated doing field work, let alone with someone as stupid as Altair. “Yes, yes, now stop talking. Preserve your energy until we’ve arrived!” Kadar quickly shut him down, grabbing onto both him and his brother and dragging them, forcing them to move faster.

Although it wasn’t easy, they managed to make their way back inside, where they noticed Altair there, perfectly safe and sound, being scolded by Al Mualim, and pretending all three of them were killed. Though silent, Malik was boiling with anger. Absolutely livid to the point of bursting. But he kept quiet, until he managed to go up the stairs.

“We are not dead!” his voice was raw with emotion. “We still live, somehow! But not because of you! Because of you! I almost lost my life, though now, I might lose my arm. Haakim’s vision was hindered, and his leg is in an awful shape. Kadar is only lucky he is relatively unharmed because Haakim made him run away!” he was pointing his finger accusatory and shouting at Altair. “Robert threw me from the room! There was no way back! Nothing I could do!” Altair didn’t even bother looking at his distressed self. “Because you would not heed our warnings! All of this could have been avoided! And this – Our bodies may still have been capable of carrying us through our work!” He was very angry, and Haakim couldn’t help but put his hand on his shoulder, hoping to keep some of his weight off as to not force his body… Without realizing the precarious precision he was in, himself. “Altair, your disregard for human lives not only nearly cost us our mission, but it nearly cost US, your COMRADES, you BROTHERS our own lives. Who knows if we can still continue being assassins, with these awful wounds? And you? You remain perfectly untouched, like the hero you are. You are nothing but the condescending shell of your former self, Altair Ibn-la Ahad. I am disgusted to have called you my brother.” Haakim’s harsh words shocked the three men, though Malik couldn’t help but agree, in his mind. “Nearly?” Al Mualim, however, picked up on the key word. “Malik managed to get what your favourite failed to find. Here, take it. Though, I believe we returned with more than just the treasure.” The army of Templars from outside were at the high gates of the kingdom. Robert was laying siege to the village. “Very well done. Haakim, take Malik and Kadar and tend to their wounds. Altair, our discussion will have to wait.” And thus, as Al Mualim sent Altair off to fight the army, Haakim led the brothers to the physician’s quarters. “I can’t believe we’re alive.” He muttered, slumping down in the chair for a few seconds, taking a few breaths. “Alright, you two, stay on the bed and I’ll be tending to your.” “Haakim, you are injured as well, take care of yourself first!” Kadar cried out. “Look at me, I’m unharmed, and you’ve spared my brother from an awful death! But your face is bleeding!” “I’M FINE!” the man snapped, making silence in the room. “Altair is not the only arrogant one here. I may be an assassin, but I have the pride of a healer. I will always treat others before I treat myself. Now sit there and relax already.”

Though limping and with only one eye open, Haakim pulled through and easily treated Kadar, making him go to rest, and remained with Malik alone in the room, though none spoke a words. Though he was still angry and trying to let go of his anger, he couldn’t help but remember the glimpse of red hair from behind the hood. Even now, he could see a stray strand of hair out, into the light.

Though he’s had his own theories in his head, he never thought twice about it, and just let things go. Not only did he never find Haakim and Katrina in the same room, there were things that she knew, that only Haakim would know. Though it was probable they could speak to each other, the details were rather specific to begin with. Haakim’s build, his size, his feminine hands… Katrina’s not so soft ones, and now, the red hair peeking out of its hiding spot… It only made him wonder.

His mind went blank as soon as he heard the other physicians saying his arm would get completely amputated, only for Haakim to start yelling at them, saying none of them is allowed to get anywhere near him, and that he will be saving that arm. Though the anxiety was rising through his veins, afraid of possibly having his whole life ruined, all because of that arrogant ass – He trusted Haakim’s expertise. He’s proved time and time again how proficient he was, and if anyone could, it was him.

Until the dead of night, Haakim worked tirelessly on that arm, until he was sure it was going to heal properly. “It’s fine now. I need to change the bandages every… Three hours. And redo the treatment. But everything else is set. Don’t force the arm though, you will need to recover for a few months, so everything more than writing is strictly forbidden, if you want to use the arm again.” He explained, slumping back down on the chair, feeling the exhaustion taking over. “Thank you, Haakim. Now, take care of yourself too.” But the man was unmoving. “Haakim?” “Shut up, I’m tired. I want to sleep. I’ll do it in the morning.” With his arm sprawled over the table, and his forehead resting on his forearm, he let out a deep exhale. “Haakim. Katrina once said that a physician must treat even the smallest wounds, right away, otherwise they can fester and you might die. I know you’re exhausted, ground work isn’t for you, but if you die, who will be taking care of her?” Malik tried to reason with him, but he merely saw his hand wave dismissively. “You.” The answer, however, completely shocked him, putting doubts into his suppositions. “Live, Malik. You must live. I don’t care about me, but you have to live.” He muttered, his voice groggy and tired. “Now you’re being stupid. If you don’t get up and patch yourself up, I’ll do it myself.” He threatened, making the poor physician jolt up on the chair, scowling. “But… The wound is too high on my leg. I’d have to take my trousers off.” He hung his head in shame. “So what? We’re both men here, and there’s no one else around. What’s there to be so ashamed of?” but he refused vehemently. “Fine, be that way. I’ll go sleep. Will that put you at ease?” “Yes… Please.” The answer made the man sigh, but just as he promise, he got on his side and offered a good night.

Haakim waited about half an hour, before softly calling out his name to check whether or not he was still awake. By the lack of response, he was, so Haakim took off his trousers and his hood, remaining in only his undergarments, as he began patching himself up. The tied up red hair was now falling down past is shoulders in waves and he looked down at his battered up skin, and the blood caking over his bruises, and the gaping wounds. Haakim was now Katrina, but Katrina didn’t want to be Katrina. A woman shouldn’t be looking like this… Roughed up, bruised and damaged. A woman should be like she was before, in the safety of her home, in pretty clothes, and her hair was pretty and filled with jewellery, and her make up was done beautifully, and she was dancing in the sand. That’s how she wanted to be. Untouched by the horrors of the assassins missions. She was a woman and she loved being a woman… But the world hated her being a woman, so it always made her remember that.

Through the disinfecting and suturing of her wounds, she wanted to shriek out until her throat was bleeding raw, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t wake Malik up. He couldn’t see her looking like that. It was pitiful. She wanted him to remember her as the pretty woman from before, not…  This. As soon as she finished bandaging her leg wounds, she limped in front of the broken mirror hanging on the wall, she noticed now the awful wound on her face. Hopefully, she would be able to save the eye and her vision. It hurt like hell, and she fell to the ground, unable to keep herself up anymore, but at least she was able to finish that up too. But getting up… Was a tougher mission.

Still, she dragged herself back to the chair and put the trousers and the blouse back on, keeping herself light. The night was beginning to disperse faster than she realized, and though usually there were no cases usually, now, Abbas, of all people, was there for a quick fix. “Oi, Haakim, you the--… Huh? What are you doing here, woman?” “Keep quiet, Malik is sleeping! He’s recovering.” Katrina shushed the man, still slumped on the chair, looking away so he wouldn’t see her tear-stained face. “This is not the place for a woman, get out already.” Though, before she could reply, another voice called out to him. “That woman is the physician that has been treating the whole Masyaf for the past 15 years.” It was Altair. It was the only person who knew her secret, save for Al Mualim, who allowed her to take that position. “What?! What about Haakim?!” Abbas protested, confused and angered. “Haakim never existed. It was always her. Now stop shouting, Master needs you.” Altair tried putting his hand on his shoulder, but was quickly shrugged off. By this time, Malik had awakened and was in a sitting position, watching as Abbas picked up the cross-dressing assassin with ease, slamming her into the wall. “You have nothing to do here, woman! Get out of here right now! The assassins don’t need you, they’ve done just as well without you!” though exhausted, through her anger, Katrina reached out her hand and clawed at his face, making him drop her. She was at her breaking point already. “THEN GO GET YOURSELF KILLED FOR ALL I CARE! YOU AND ALL OF YOU! ALL OF YOU, GO JUMP OFF A CLIFF ALREADY!” she yelled at them through the tears, all the frustration that she’s built up since birth. “If you’d rather die than be treated by a woman, then FUCKING DIE!” she continued. “If you think there is any difference in skill and knowledge between me and any other physician here, just because you’ve got that stupid little prick dangling between your legs, then I’ll have you know, they wanted to chop off Malik’s arm, but I was able to save it! But sure, to hell with all that, who cares, right?” “You have no right speaking to a man like that, you little whore. I’ll go inform Master about this!” though he tried to leave, Altair’s words stopped him. “Master was the one who put her in this position.” He spoke nonchalantly. “Now hurry up, we have to leave, before Al Mualim himself comes over and sees this mess.” “Al Mualim is already here.” The voice of the old man made the girl slap her face and rake her fingers through her hair. “You were negligent, Katrina. Now, you have two people aware of your secret. Whether they accept you or not, it is your business alone, and theirs.” The old man’s words made her so angry, she wanted to strangle him. “I am the best healer you’ve got – Why do I have to hide behind this stupid façade anyway? Haakim, Haakim – But what about me? What about Katrina? It’s been 15 years! I’ve done everything you’ve asked, I even played pretend and proved my worth to everyone – Why does this have to change everything?! There are many women out there, held in high regard for their knowledge in… Medicine, Mathematics, Calligraphy, Law, Religion, Literature, Art and Music --  Why is the Brotherhood any different? Aren’t we all Assassins here? Haven’t I saved enough people?!” though she was right, the Master didn’t take light to the accusing. “Enough with that attitude. You know the rules. Whether your secret gets told around, and you get accepted, is up to Malik and Abbas. The rules are sacred, and we cannot go against them.” The Master spoke solemnly. “Tsk… Altair, back me up! Come on, aren’t you my brother? I was born a week before you, we are basically blood brothers, yes? We’ve known each other since we first took breaths into this world, and not even once did you stand up for me. Now would be a perfect time for that. Haven’t I proved my worth yet, Altair?!” her jaw was set, and she was gritting her teeth in anger, but the man didn’t sketch any emotion. “It is not my place to question the rules of the brotherhood. You’ve misstepped, thus, it was your fault.” She couldn’t believe his words and he watched as he left was ready to leave the room. “You’re a coward and a rule breaker, and you can do all that because you have always been the favourite. You never get any punishment or repercussion. You are just that. A vain, stubborn jackass. And Abbas, you’re a nobody. You’re worse than even the novices. You’ll never be anything worth while. Whatever, get out, all of you. I won’t be bothering you for much longer, I’m out. I know when I’m not wanted.” Those green eyes held so much hatred and resentment. “You never stood up for me, even when you knew I was being beaten up at home. You never did anything. That’s why you’ll never grow. You’re not a man, you’re a coward.” She insulted them, and though Abbas wanted to go strangle her, Altair grabbed him and followed the Master.

Katrina simply turned and punched that mirror hard, not caring that she got her fist all fucked up. Instead, she used her other hand to punch the wall, only to get it even more screwed up. And then, her shoulders started shaking lightly, and soft sobs escaped from her lips, no matter how much she tried to restraint herself.

“What a bunch of idiots.” Katrina froze up – She completely forgot that Malik was still there. With her head still hidden in her hands, she was too afraid to move, or even let another sob. “I’d be armless without you, and they want to kick you out. How annoying.” He continued, but just like before, she was unmoving. “Ah, right, I should mention  - I already knew your secret. I just wanted to let you get the courage and trust me enough to confess it yourself.” “Since when?” she managed to squeak out in that soft, broken voice. “You’re never seen together, you never speak of your life, you have the same height, same build, a terribly exaggerated voice, same touch, same mannerism, same skills, same knowledge… Should I go on?” he asked, but the girl shook her head. “It was a theory that I had, but I never had it confirmed until now.” “… I don’t know what to say.” She confessed, unable to show her face. “I didn’t… I just… I’m good at one thing, and I wanted to help people… I didn’t want to play this stupid game, but he made me. It was the only way I could run away from my parents and learn how to become a physician… That traitor knows this… He wasn’t always this awful… He’s changed so much… He’s completely another person.” She confessed, her hands raking down her hair, tugging on it roughly. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter anymore. Your injuries aren’t life-threatening anymore… I’ll tell the others what treatment is to be done, and I’m out of here. Nobody will have to see me anymore and despair at seeing a woman for the first time in their pathetic lives.” She slapping her legs, she got up and limped towards a book in which she started writing the treatment. “Are you giving up, Katrina?” he asked, and he watched her nod her head. “After all this time? Really? And what will you do, go home and watch the waves?” “Yup. I’ve been alone my whole life. What’s even more loneliness? Maybe I’ll find some work at the Princess’ place. I don’t know, and at this point, I don’t care.” As she finished writing, she threw the feather down and tore the page off. “I’d rather you take care of my injury then some fried brain.” Malik leaned forward slightly. “Have you forgotten? Woman or man, I enjoyed your company either way. I even said I wanted to court you. I said I would wait until you were ready to trust me. Is it that you still distrust me, or is it that you are so afraid and hurt that you’d rather run away?” the girl remained silent, though rooted to the spot. She always seemed to freeze whenever called out like that. “What I told you before, as either myself or Haakim, still is true. I don’t… I’m not… I’m not giving up. I… Y-You… I don’t… I don’t want to… Give up… But look at me. This is not… This is not me. I am a woman, Malik… And I love being a woman… But this is… What the hell is this even? Scars and wounds and bruises and running away? This is ridiculous. It’s pathetic. You deserve better than whatever the hell this has become.” She sighed, raising her hands so she could pin the treatment paper in the nail where the mirror once was. “Are you being purposely stubborn and difficult?” he snorted, getting up from the bed. Though he hadn’t slept the whole night, much too concerned for her health, he wasn’t feeling tired. He made his way in front of the girl, and he cupped her face, raising her face up. “Nothing has changed, Katrina, so stop making up scenarios in my stead. In breeches or in those pretty dresses of yours, with or without make up, and whether you have wounds and scars or not, is of no concern to me. The fact still stands that you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on, and though Haakim easily became my friend, as soon as I saw you, I fell in love with you, and I knew I wanted to make you mine. There’s no one that had my attention like you did. No matter how exhausted I was, I always found myself in front of your house, every night, just to see your face and hear your voice. I would even get purposely injured, just so I could feel your touch one more time. So don’t run away from me now, Kat. Not now.” The man carefully wrapped his arms around her body, pulling her into his bare chest, yet just as before, her body felt rigid, and her hands were trembling in the air, as if confused at what to do. With a smile on his face, Malik reached out to hold those hands, and he placed them over his torso, watching as her face became flustered. “Don’t give me hope, Malik. I… I’m a weirdo with no social skills. I don’t even know how to speak to people. You’ll just get bored and frustrated.” But he only held her tighter. “Don’t just go around assuming what people feel, Katrina. It’s rude.” He teased the woman. “Besides, you were speaking perfectly to me before, I see no problem. Now come on, look at me and give me that beautiful smile of yours.” Gingerly, he raised her chin up and planted a kiss on her forehead. “Will you let me court you now?” as he let that question be heard, the physician hid her face with her hands, though she nodded her head in approval. “Don’t go around giving me a heart attack like that, Malik! I don’t think I can take it! You have no idea what you’ve done to me all this time, both as myself and as Haakim even, since the time you became my friend. You are crazy, Al’Sayf! Crazy!” she uttered, and with a burst of courage, threw her arms around him, burying her face in his chest. “Though… I really need to take care of that arm of yours. I’m really scared, but I think I can save it.” One of her hands reached out to delicately caress the wound over his toned biceps muscle. “Does that mean you’re not resigning from here?” though she was silent for a while, she ended up shrugging her shoulders. “I don’t know. You’re not resigning, so… I suppose I might as well stay around for a while. At least until you’re in top health again. Then… Maybe I’ll go work in Jerusalem at Queen Isabella’s court… Though… I don’t have a home there, and I still need more money to get one as great as the one from here. It took me 15 years of work… Guess it’s 15 years more.” Malik hummed, pondering over the future, and he patted her head. “We’ll think of something, so fret not. Things will work out well for us.” And so they did, for as soon as the next day came by and Katrina explained to the Master that should Malik ever wish to continue his Assassin work, he needs complete rest, he transferred him to becoming the Dai of the Jerusalem divide, and under the claims that she needs to constantly monitor his health, she followed him, and together, they lived in the bureau’s small back chamber. It wasn’t as comfortable as the room back home, but with the right company, they made due.

Though Katrina constantly pestered Malik to make sure he doesn’t overwork or put any kind of strain onto his arm, he didn’t mind it one bit, except for the times when she’d take whatever it was from his hands and do the work herself, mumbling almost incoherently and scolding him. That, was amusing, though she was already working hard enough and forgetting about resting.

This new work was nowhere near as exciting as what he was doing before, but for some odd reason, he didn’t quite mind it either and he realized that he quite enjoyed the management aspect of his new job. Writing documents, creating maps, organizing missions for the other assassins, providing intel for them and giving the green light for assassinations, if needed. He quite enjoyed his new role as a teacher for the novices, considering he was now the highest in rank assassin in Jerusalem. Since they were required to create a business for themselves to not only create a front, but to generate money as well, Malik realized his passion for cartography, whilst Katrina would be dwelling into her healing arts, not only for the assassins, but for the civilians as well.

Since the successful mission from the Temple of Solomon, Malik was declared the Dai of Jerusalem, and he was the outright leader of the Jerusalem division, though his woman received no title from the Master despite all her hard work throughout the years. He was pissed, but only the Master could give away titles like that. At least they were happy with Altair’s punishment and how he became a novice, and with the new rank of Dai, Malik has now surpassed even his previous title of Master Assassin and field instructor. It was hilarious, and he wanted to see that ashamed mug when they’d next face each other.

He was truly happy now, though mostly away from his brother – Yet some day, he was going to buy a house in Jerusalem and he’d make sure all three of them live nicely, until Kadar find a woman and moves out together with her. Every night, he’d make sure he was the last one to go to sleep, not wanting her to work herself into exhaustion, and every time he’d get in bed, he’d look to his side and watch the peaceful form of the beautiful woman that he would soon be wifing. She was always dressed in those soft, sheer nightgowns of hers for it was always so warm, though a corner of the blanket was draped lazily over her back, as she always complained about spine pain. They were so young, yet so damaged. It was pitiful. Her limping was still visible on occasion, but he knew that, just like with his own arm, she, too, will be getting better.

At least, every time he’d gaze at her, and his fingers would trail over her body, the wounds were hurting anymore, and the scars were beginning to fade at a rapid pace. The miracle ointments she created were the highlight of the country, and women of all ages would come over to get their fix, worried about scarring or stretch marks. Youth creams, beauty creams, moisture creams, even make up, she would create them, and their business was booming thanks to her entrepreneurship skills, along with her medical knowledge and creativity. If it were to rely only on his map-making, they would be rather poor. Still, he was happy. She looked genuinely happy now, away from Masyaf, and into a place where her skills were recognized by the civilians, and her skills were required en-mass. She even received the title of “Katrina Al-Shifa”, the country’s renowned healer. What Al Mualim lost, Jerusalem nurtured.

As time passed, Altair walked the path of redemption and ended up being forgiven by the two, more or less encouraged by Kadar and his forgiving nature, but once they heard the truth about their Master’s real plan of domination, they helped the once hated, arrogant Assassin into reclaiming Masyaf, even going as far as to assassinate Abbas who was against them from the very beginning.

“Katrina. Now that I am the new Mentor of the Brotherhood, I can restore your position in Masyaf as the Brotherhood’s Medic.” Altair spoke, looking at the couple. “Thank you, but I have no intention of returning to The Kingdom. My life is fulfilling in Jerusalem.” She replied briefly with an uncaring shrug. “That is a pity. Your skills have been recognized since long ago. You would have been a great asset, as always.” He explained, though he wasn’t going to go against her wishes. “Yes, yes, and now, she’s the Queen’s favourite, everyone loves her, and we are on the verge of moving into a villa gifted by the King. My wife and I are not returning.” Malik’s stern voice was noted, though his last words were noticed by both men. Katrina, on the other hand, didn’t. “WIFE?! When did you get married?! And you didn’t call me to the wedding?!” Kadar’s petrified expression made the couple look at him with different emotions on their face. “We didn’t—“ Kat tried to stumble over her words, but it was meaningless. “My bad, my bad. I got so used to living with Katrina so much that I started calling her my wife before even asking her formally. What a drag, why do you have to only pay attention to these kinds of things, but not your work as well?” though amused, Malik scolded his younger brother who couldn’t help but grin widely. “Then what are you waiting for? Ask her now! Come on – We need more than one reason to celebrate!” as excited as always. “Alright, alright, you are being obnoxious. I was hoping to do it in private, away from you. Alas… Katrina, I’ll have to apologise to you once again, it seems that my younger brother has not learnt anything from when he was a child.” He chuckled, turning around and holding her hands. “That’s alright, we got used to him. He’s still a child, after all.” She chuckled, shaking her head. “I would love to be your wife, Malik.” “Congratulations, you two.” It was the first time either of them witnessed Altair’s genuine smile. “Finally, my grumpy brother is happy – About time! Now, settle a date for the wedding, and we’ll come with gifts for your new house!” the more Kadar spoke, the more awkward Malik’s and Katrina’s smile became, and they shared a look, stepping away from the young one without him noticing even. “He sure is excited. He hasn’t changed one bit.” The physician mused, shaking her head at his antics. “And he never will, that little rascal. Well, I suppose a bit of energy around isn’t that bad, once in a while.” Malik chuckled in agreement, before cupping her face and gazing into her enchanting green eyes. “Still… I can now show off my incredibly beautiful and intelligent wife all over Jerusalem, and she’s all mine.” “You are being too kind and considering, Malik, you are embarrassing me.” Though her words were timid, her smile was wide enough to match Kadar’s. That smile. That gorgeous, charming smile that he fell in love with. He could never hold himself back, and he’d always kiss that stunning that smile of hers. He could never get enough of her. “Then whatever I am doing, I am doing well.”

#malik al sayf #malik al sayf x reader #malik al sayf imagine #malik al sayf x oc #assassins creed #assassins creed x reader #assassins creed imagine #assassins creed x oc #kadar al sayf #altair ibn la'ahad

[temeyes]

play time before bed

#he likes to roleplay as Ezio okay #imagine that he spent so much of his salary on Assassin's Creed merch (he has all of the hidden blade ones too) #my art #2023 #call of duty #call of duty: modern warfare #call of duty: modern warfare ii #call of duty: modern warfare iii #cod #codmwii #codmw #codmwiii #modern warfare #mw #mw2 #mw3 #ghostsoap #soapghost #ghoap #simon ghost riley #simon riley #soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #ghost cod #soap cod #art #fanart #digital art #digital drawing #sketch

[greenlaut]

son of adam

#good morning todays art is brought to you by thoughts of altaïr perceiving himself as inhuman for having isu genes #imagine being raised your entire life to herald death and then you find yourself betrayed #and suddenly you have to stand on your feet and learn how to be human #how do you speak? how would you communicate? youve learned the tongue of blades but at what cost? #(are you even human? can humans survive what youve went through? how much of you is a monster?) #my art #altaïr ibn la'ahad #malik al sayf #malik al-sayf #altair ibn la'ahad #assassins creed #assassin's creed #assassins creed 1 #assassin's creed 1 #asscreed #ac 1 #ac1 #altmal

[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!

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ───※ ·❆· ※───

"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.

#assassin's creed #shay cormac #shay patrick cormac #the man the myth the legend #shay x reader #assassins creed x reader #assassins creed #assassins creed imagine #shay cormac imagine #reader insert #x reader #ac imagines #assassin's creed x reader #ooc: // you'll never take shay away from me copper #ooc: // (anakin voice) you will not take him from me! #ooc: // rogue and syndicate are my top fave ac games #ooc: // successfully dethroned ac2 #ooc: // may ezio rest in pieces #ooc: // brothers I was going to end it with comment of ''wondering if shay wouldve let you join him but you already knew what the answer wo #ooc: // would be'' #ooc: // (it would've been yes btw) #assassin's creed x you #assassin's creed x y/n #ac x you #ac x y/n #shay cormac x you #shay cormac x y/n

[gaminggirls]

Dating Evie Frye:

lots of shopping for books dates

she loves to read to you while your head rests on her lap

Jacob is protective so he has to sus you out first

he adores you

but Evie doesn't care about his opinion anyways

she's protective of you, but it also willing to let you fall if she feels like you need it

teasing you all the time

she had a harder exterior but she's so soft with you

you make Evie Frye melt

getting into trouble together and getting out of it together as well

she's a passionate and intense lover

sometimes it's hard to keep up with her

she's an amazing kisser and loves to kiss you often

loves to go dancing with you cause she's a great dancer

she mainly leads in the dances but helps you lead sometimes

she's not very romantic but likes it a lot when you are

she often goes on tangents about a puzzle she's trying to solve and loves bouncing ideas off you

she loves talking with you late into the night and early into the morning

Evie isn't big on pet names but she occasionally calls you darling

one thing you now about her, is she's very ticklish, and she loves being tickled

she's not a big pda person

she leaves all the passion for when you two are alone

Making tea and cookies together is always a fun date activity

#evie frye #evie frye headcanons #ac syndicate #ac headcanons #ac #assassins creed #assassin's creed #evie frye imagine #evie frye x reader #ac syndicate imagine #ac syndicate headcanons #ac syndicate x reader #assassins creed headcanons #assassin's creed headcanons #assassins creed imagine #assassin's creed imagine

[starry-bi-sky]

i have been unmedicated for the entirety of spring break and thus have had little interest in writing this down, but i have been thinking about this for the entire week (as well as a dpdc clone danny au that resulted in it becoming its entirely separate batman au that includes a teenage vigilante bruce wayne, an ocarina, and me entirely incapable of making a batman au without making bruce dirt poor but we're not talking about that) and so i've finally went 'fuck it' and forcibly grabbed my laptop. I will get this done in one sitting even if it kills me.

BUT. This is about neither clone^2 danny nor about who i am calling Ocarina Batman. This is about my Danyal Al Ghul Au and more SPECIFICALLY it's me thinking about his relationship with Sam and Tucker specifically.

Tucker and Sam? Adore this asshole (affectionate) with every fiber of their being. And it is very much a reciprocated feeling, but Danny's thoughts will not be delved into much other than he would kill for them.

Tucker? The only person currently capable of getting a deep, loud, belly laugh out of Danny. Sam can get him to smile and to laugh, but it's the kind that's a chuckle-under-the-breath. The quiet, looks-down-while-huffing laughter. Snorts once with laughter and then grins stupidly.

But Tucker? Tucker can crack a slew of stupid jokes and Danny will be incapacitated for the next five minutes because he's laughing so hard that he can't breath. He lands one well-timed pun or quip and Danny will be close to tears. His laughter is their favorite sound in the whole world.

Sam is lowkey jealous of this ability, and she's gotten a belly laugh out of Danny a few times. But alas, it is Tucker who wields this power and has gotten it the most times out of the two of them.

-

They're also both physically affectionate with Danny as much as possible. It started roughly around when they were 12-ish, a year since they befriended Danny, and they noticed that he sought after touch but never seemed to initiate (and was in some ways repulsed by it). They started slowly being more touchy with him. Hooking a finger around his to lead him somewhere, tapping his wrist, looping arms. Little touches, grabs, etc, to get him used to it, and once he started doing it back they started increasing it.

It's gotten to a point where he will now just. Lay on them. Like a lizard sunbathing on a rock. Leaning on their backs when they're sitting in class before the bell rings, his chin on their heads. He'll talk about anything with his arms looped around their shoulders.

If they're sitting on a couch at either of their houses, he'll lay his legs on theirs. Him and Tucker will press their feet against the other's and try and push against them (newsflash: Danny always wins, Tucker claims its the ghost strength but Danny's been winning since before his accident)

-

Naturally, both Sam and Tucker know where Danny keeps his weapons on his person, and are allowed to grab them off of him if they need it. His only requirement is that they don't lose his weapons if they take it and forget to return it immediately.

They both understand how big of a thing this is from Danny, and so they do their best to treat his weapons with a lot of respect and care because they know its his way of saying he trusts them.

-

Sam and Tucker are so fond of Danny it's insane. Like fr. That's their goddamn best friend, and they are so protective of him. Emotionally, physically, you name it. They will tear the head off a grown man if they need to, Danny's had scars since he arrived in Amity Park and Sam and Tucker both are going to find the person who put them there and make them pay for it.

One time, Tucker overheard a bunch of upperclass girls speaking nastily about Danny and about the rumors surrounding him, calling him names like 'freak', 'monster', etc. Danny was with him and heard it, and seemingly appeared unbothered by it, even telling Tucker that he was used to such rumors.

Tucker was so furious that hacked into the school system later that night and tanked those girls grades. They were kicked out of their clubs and had to go to mandatory tutoring for the rest of the year. He made sure to leave some way of letting them know it was him who did it.

And Sam doesn't like using her money for things, doesn't like abusing that wealth. So instead, whenever her parents talk bad about Danny, she causes a media incident that has her parents scrambling to deal with. She does something wild, outrageous by her parents' standards.

She heard some boys on the basketball team making fun of Danny once, similar to those girls had. She kicks up a fuss about something eco-unfriendly at school and forcibly holds a protest on the same day of the big home basketball game, forcing them to cancel the event and reschedule to a visiting school.

She anonymously donates money so that there's new uniforms for the team but oops! Looks like she "forgot" to donate enough money for them to get uniforms for all the team members, and strangely enough those boys in particular didn't get them! Looks like they'll have to wait until more money gets donated for the basketball team to get their new, nice uniforms. The old ones look so ratty in comparison, right?

And since the football team gets most of the sport money, that might just take awhile. And if (and when) they kick up a fuss? oops! Off the basketball team you go, :) such unsportsman-like behavior is unfit for the team.

(The only good thing about how corrupt the school system is is that she can use it to her advantage too.)

The both of them know that Danny suspects them for the sudden misfortune falling on these people, but he doesn't call them out on it. He's kinder than he used to be, but not kind enough to vouch for people who speak badly of him. Sometimes, he might just congratulate them on not getting caught.

Because Danny is their wonderful, hurt friend with a "slightly" Blue and Orange Moral code, and enough scars that people have been calling him a criminal (and worse) since he arrived in Amity Park when he was ten. And they'll be damned if he gets hurt anymore.

#dpxdc #dp x dc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc crossover #dpdc #danyal al ghul #its kinda hard to get my thoughts in order bc i am ✨unmedicated✨ rn BUT #this is the gist of it #i could wax poetic about how much sam and tucker adore danny as their friend but alas. the wax is not waxing. it is stuck to the paper #and i am chipping it off with my nail and its getting stuck under it. #ocarina batman has been in my head since friday someone come sedate me. him and pit fighter batman too. who is ALSO a piss poor teenage #bruce wayne who instead of a vigilante and villains is a PIT FIGHTER. he fights blindfolded thats why he's called the bat #ocarina batman's Look is if you combined punk + assassins creed aesthetic together and then gave it an ocarina #the ocarina is because i thought it'd be cool if its how he and robin communicated across long distances bc they didnt have comms #because they are ✨poor✨ and live in a one room apartment in crime alley. #and also the mental image of him sitting on. rooftop ledge in the rain playing 'song of storms' from LoZ was too fantastic to ignore #like bro imagine hearing that as a criminal. you're off doing shady shit with your gang and in the distance you hear the faint and #haunting melody of an ocarina. two of them in a call and response duet. and its getting closer. and you cannot find where #siren type shit fr fr #look he has the assassins creed hood and a long ass coat that has spikes on the end that when flared out looks like the silhouette of a bat #on fucking GOD i am this 👌 close to finding an artist doing commissions to make this for me. i am frothing at the mouth #he is 17-19 years old with his little brother-son Robin. Logically Robin is Dick but in my heart of hearts the first Robin is Jason #and he has perfected the art of getting his older brother to play songs on the pan flute for him. long pitchy whine on his own ocarina #the familiar childlike 'pleeeaaaaaaase?' and he knows he's won when there is a 10s silence on the other end before his brother plays #a lullaby. #look up 'sailor moon - pan flute (relaxing) on youtube' and when there's the thumbnail of two green skinned aliens with long blue and pink #hair. click on it. THAT is the song Bruce plays. #hhhhhhhhhhh frothing at the mouth over this au sooo fucking badly

[kiatheinsomniac]

I haven't played Syndicate yet but I love Having so can I request something short with him (probably modern au unless you find a way to incorporate it in the actual canon era) where the reader bakes him his favorite after a long day that took a toll on him?

notes: I think I managed to write it so that it could be read as canon era or modern au

pairing: Jacob Frye x Reader

word count: 0.4k

☾ ⋆ﾟ  MASTERLIST / RULES / TAGLIST FORM

Tea and cake

Jacob had come in from a long day of working looking utterly exhausted and you couldn’t help but take pity on his husband as he toes off his books, hung up his coat and half-stumbled over to you, wrapping his arms around you in a much-needed hug as he leaned into you, feeling as though he could relax at last. You ushered him up to bed to get some rest, giving him a soft kiss as you pulled the blanket up over him, insisting that he got some sleep as it looked as though he could hardly keep his eyes open. 

You made your way down to the kitchen and began rummaging through the larder for some ingredients to make a sponge cake for when he wakes up.  You hummed quietly to yourself as you measured everything out for the recipe, getting the oven going and doing your best to clean up as you went along, unaware of how you had already smeared flour in your hair when tucking it behind your ear. You sat on the dining table, legs swinging and thumbing through a book you’d read many times before as you waited for the cake to bake, constantly checking on it to make sure that you didn’t burn it by accident. 

You took it out when it was done and let it cool for a while before cutting it in half horizontally, lathering on a layer of butter cream and jam before putting the two pieces back together and dusting on a layer of powdered sugar, licking a bit of it off your finger before beginning to wipe down the counter, not wanting to leave a mess behind. You were startled by the feeling of arms wrapping around you, Jacob’s chin resting on your shoulder, feeling him turn his head to press a kiss to your cheek. 

“A sponge cake?” He asked and you could hear his smile in his voice. You turned around to playfully kiss the end of his nose. 

“You looked so exhausted and I know how much you love them.” You smiled and he grinned, holding you just a little tighter. 

“What did I do to deserve someone so thoughtful?” He held you tight in his arms, swaying you a little bit before letting go and picking up a knife to cut you a piece each while you grabbed some plates. 

“I’ll put the kettle on.” 

“I’m so glad I married you.” You laughed and watched as he brought the mugs out, the two of you eager to enjoy your cake and tea. 

☾ ⋆ﾟ Buy me a coffee? ✧⋆.・゜Want to be tagged?

🏷️@gojohater101 @daddyadler @writing-noah @havatnah @aarnodoriann @b3k1720

#jacob frye imagine #jacob frye x reader #jacob frye #jacob frye x you #assassins creed #assassins creed x reader #assassins creed fanfiction #assassins creed fanfic #assassins creed imagine

[yosb]

the eagle and his sword... the mentor and his dai

#altmal #assassin's creed #altair ibn la'ahad #altair ibn-la'ahad #malik al sayf #ac1 #assassin's creed 1 #FORGIVENESS... CAN U IMAGINE?! #malik al-sayf

[isa-belle1367]

I like to imagine that after desmond lived through Altair's memories, he would be unable to sit still. Because altair is almost always moving around and chasing targets, I imagine that Desmond would get used to that. However, it's kind of hard to keep on moving when you're in a cramped sanctuary, so just imagine desmond like climbing the fucking walls and scaring the shit out of everyone.

Lucy: "Has anyone seen desmond?"

Desmond, who is on the ceiling right above her: *whistles to get her attention*

Lucy: "WTF HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN UP THERE?!"

#this is canon #i was the ceiling fan #just imagine desmond being unhinged #assassin's creed #desmond miles #silly desmond #desmond #lucy stillman