#assassin's creed x reader

[emzysimagines]

NOT THE TIME FOR SILENCE

I refuse to stand aside while this happens...

All telecommunications and internet has been cut off in Gaza for almost an hour. The bombing got worse than it had been this week. Two hospitals have been threatened - that's what we knew BEFORE they lost connection.

Israel's isolated Gaza and is striking them from the sea, air and ground NOW. Ethnic cleansing/genocide is taking place NOW.

To all bloggers here on Tumblr, don't be on the side of genocide with your silence.

[reemonna]

HI! Love ur blog. Can I req some nsfw headcanons for Connor Kenway? ;)

Oh dear, this is the first time for me to write a whole nsfw blog and I'm so anxious about it, especially if it's about Connor. I hope I won't disappoint and thank you so much!

!!! (Warning: NSFW / not for minors / +18 content) !!!

NSFW Ratonhnhaké:ton / Connor Kenway headcanons

(During the events of AC3)

In spite of his terrifying physique and alarming gazes when he's hunting down an enemy, he can be the softest and most caring creature you'll ever get to know when it comes to him having a physical contact with you

He's so strong and able-bodied, so he can pin you to the wall with both his arms easily and you're here squirming before his huge body

When you're giving him head for the first time he'd be really concerned and anxious the whole time that you might choke. He's fully aware he is that huge

Him having kinks? I don't think so. He's an innocent boy, it's even possible for him not knowing what does the word 'kink' stand for in the first place. He could even ask you about it

"Nó:ronhkwe (love), what does the word 'kink' mean?"

"Where did you hear that from?"

But if he did have kinks, they would be the least risky and hurtful ones. Which means BDSM is a conclusive no for him

Connor is a busy man, he doesn't really have the time to have sexual and romantic relationships, he was once afraid he couldn't give his woman what she deserves. So having you would be his first. Yes, that means he is a virgin

Thus explain why he's shy and probably doesn't know what he's doing in your first time together. But he's a fast learner, with very observant eyes and sharp senses, he will take some mental notes of how to improve and get better by the time. And he definitely does

He's pretty skilled with his hands, according to training and using different weapons and managing them perfectly, so he really knows how to use them well, and he's ready to show you that in other ways than fighting, to play you like a violin, turning you into a sobbing mess

During the whole thing he will ask you some questions from time to time like 'Are you okay with this?', 'Am I doing good?', 'Do you want me to stop?' to let you know that he's wary and willing to make it as comfortable and pleasurable for you as possible

You wouldn't imagine what it's like to do it with him when he's mad about something. He turns into one brutal beast you won't be able to feel your body for a week at least

Once he's done and returns back to his senses, he will regret it immediately and keep on apologising (even if you're not really protesting), making sure you weren't badly hurt

When you're both close enough, he likes to play chasing games with you, tag for an example. He likes watching you from afar, determining your location with his secondary vision, licking his lips and eyeing you in a predatory way, closing the distance between you slowly like a vulture hunting down its prey. That's until he surprises you with a full-of-happiness giggle and hugs you. Holding you tight in a teddy bear way as if he's won his prize, whispering promises of a long blissful night to your ears

He looks like a sculpted statue of a greek god after reaching his climax. With his tired handsome face, pumped lips (more than they actually are), sleepy beautiful half-closed eyes, flushed tanned skin, tiny whines escaping his lips from time to time, sculpted flawless body and a rising and lowering sweaty chest. If he's conscious enough he would have a little wanton smirk on his lips with his eyes fixed upon you

He's the sweetest boy when it comes to the aftercare. He gives away lots of kisses and cuddles, asking you if he did well enough, could even prepare a bath for you to get cleaned up. He doesn't let you make the least effort possible. He takes care of everything himself until he finally lays beside you in bed, pulling you into his lap, fondling your hair tresses and kissing your forehead softly, wishing you sweet dreams

[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!

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ───※ ·❆· ※───

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.

[ravi-deactivated]

𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙖𝙣𝙖 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨

„Sweet cunt and a sharp tongue, you're a dangerous combo, love.“

featuring: edward kenway

cw: praise, vaginal sex, semi-public i guess

synopsis: owning a tavern in havana means being used to pirates in your every day life, their crude words and behaviour. but you've never met a pirate going this far in attempt to apologize for a crewmate's bad actions.

note: „fy nghariad“ is a welsh phrase meaning „my love“ or „my sweetheart“ which i thought would be nice to include, but please tell me if i used it incorrectly, that would be kinda embarassing lol

18+ content - MDNI

───────────────────

Havana is always warm, always welcoming and soft, with sunlight flooding through streets of beige and gold, full of laughter and peaceful existence.

Even at night, it feels like the warmth wraps around people like a soft coat, summer air resting between the buildings and mingling with the scent of the sea, darkness enlightened by warm lanterns and candles. The sound of joyful music, shanties and drunken laughter has become the soundtrack of your nights as bartender in the tavern and restaurant which are owned by your father, and you like to say that Havana is a place of joy, no matter the time of day.

You've done this job since your teenage years, are used to bar fights and lusting gazes resting on you, know how to handle men who try to let their hands wander, think they can whistle at you or spit out crude and naughty things.

Most of them know that it will only get them a ban from the house, or in worst case, a beating from your main visitors or an arrest by the guards, but sometimes, there still are idiots who try it, out of pure stupidity and falsely placed ego.

Citizens of Havana adore your tavern as a centre of the city, they know how to behave and have their fun in peace, but the pirates docking on the shore are a different story.

You can see it in their gazes, in the way they talk, the way they stride through the streets like they own them and the houses forming them, that they're looking for provocation, hungry for a fight.

Thankfully, most of them are more of an inconvience and not an actual threat, and you know how to handle them, know that a tavern is a pirate's favourite place, which gives you a slight advantage against them, even if it's just out of their sympathy for the rum you pour them.

It doesn't diminish your dislike for them, despite them being your costumers.

Pirates are a disease, you've always been told. And yet, you can't help but feel a thrill in your veins, feel your heart leap and your legs trembling when a strong hand grabs your chin from behind, gently, sensually lifts your head.

The soft light filling the dim walls of the empty, closed tavern flickers in your vision, soft tears of passion melting it to a blur along with the dark of the late night and a breathed, blissful sigh leaves your lips, forced out of you by the way the body of the man behind you rocks once more against you.

Pirates are the worst of the worst, you learned early in your life. And Edward Kenway is so good at being a pirate, at getting what he wants, that he might be something even worse, armed with those mischievous eyes, his charming smirk and skilled fingers.

You did not question the leathern bracers wrapped around his lower arms, the hidden blades you saw shimmering in the dim light when you served him and his men, and you didn't question the hooded robe hanging over the back of his chair, could only focus on the white lace-up shirt on his body, the cleavage that slightly revealed the tattoos spreading over his chest.

It was no surprise and nothing new when one of his men hit on you, spitting rude words from a drunk tongue in an attempt to seduce you. What did surprise you was how fast Adéwalé grabbed him by the scruff like a puppy to kick him out of the tavern, and the way Edward apologized to you, genuinely and gentle.

Most men did not act like this when they came to drink in your tavern, only laughed when their comrades harrassed a girl. It did not fit your world view, disturbed the evil picture you carried of pirates all these years of your life.

You couldn't help but smile at the way Edward looked at you, a mixture of apologetic and enthrilled, felt your breath hitch when he asked you what he could offer to beg your forgiveness.

The way his hands are now roaming your body, his husked breaths against your ear and his body pressed against yours is not what you had in mind at first, but you'll gladly take it as a form of apology.

He lets out a groan as he fills you, slides into you like you are made for him, slicked walls hugging his cock, clenching around his girth.

He fills you just right, hits spots you have never felt, makes you see stars despite the roof above both of your heads.

„What do you say, sweetheart? Think this'll make up for the inconvience?“ he husks against your ear, sends a new shiver down your spine that ends up right inside the heat pooling in your lower stomach, and you lightly lean your head back, feel the stubble of his beard brushing your ear.

Just when you're about to answer, he hits you with another thrust from behind, knocks the air out of you with the sheer depth of his movements.

You need a second to catch your breath, collect yourself, before a little smirk spreads on your lips.

„Thought a world-class-pirate would have more to offer“, you respond, with a low, seducing voice, a tone that lures him in, makes his breath hitch lightly, bearly hearable if he wasn't so close to your ear.

He's so close even that you think you can feel the way an amused smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, and you shudder again when his breath fans your cheek.

„Sly little thing, aren't ya?“

Before you can answer in an even brattier tone than before, you feel how he slightly pushes you down, makes you lean further forward until you're forced to hold onto the bar, driven further and further into the wood by his harsh thrusts.

He quickens his pace, makes you whine and moan with the way he fills you, tip kissing your womb, his slight curve brushing your sweet spots just right.

„Sweet cunt and a sharp tongue, you're a dangerous combo, love.“

His words and the deep tone of his voice only make you arch more in his grasp, make you hold onto the bar with one hand, while the other carries your balance on its wooden surface.

You feel your own arousal run down your thighs, feel yourself getting higher and higher on the wet sounds echoing through the room whenever he enters your aching cunt, your brain spinning around mixed feelings of confusion and arousal.

He's a pirate, a well wanted one as well, and yet you can not help but love the way he grabs you, the way he fucks you, the way he makes you feel.

When he leans over your back, one hand placed next to your body, the other one on your hip to hold you steady, you somehow forget how much his head is worth, how dangerous his hands should feel on your body.

It feels strange, but a spark of sympathy arises within you when he leans in further, buries you in his shadow as he pushes a soft kiss against the back of your neck, drowns you in the illusion of intimacy when he gently closes his teeth around the shell of your ear.

Edward doesn't seem like other pirates, doesn't initiate fights he can not win, doesn't harrass others, doesn't cause unnecessary ruckus to prove his ego. He smells better than most of them, covered in the scent of the sea, of salt and a hint of rum, but with an underlying note of herbs, probably because of salves that are used to treat wounds lingering his body.

And above all, he looks so handsome, a dark angel within a bunch of dirty, fattened and drunk pigs, his cheeky smirk more intoxicating than alcohol or money.

A smirk that is directed at you, resting on you as he observes you, watches you writher and shake beneath his movements. When you catch it from the corner of your eye, it fuels new fire inside of you, and your lips curl sweet and mischievously when you slightly raise your head to respond.

„Maybe you shouldn't provoke my sharp tongue too much then, captain.“

The word does something to him, you can feel it, notice the way he gasps for a second, slows his thrusts for the shortest bit. Then he suddenly slips out of you, both hands grabbing your hips and pulling you up, your back straightening for the shortest second before he turns you around, pulls you in by the waist and leans forward to push his lips against yours, catching you in a heated kiss that steals your breath, makes your knees weak.

You bury your right hand in his blonde hair, hold him close, while your other hand rests on the textile of his shirt, trying to hold onto soft linen while you sigh and feel your legs tremble.

As if he's feeling it, he lightly bends his knees, slides his hands from your hips to the back of your thighs to pick you up, makes you wrap your legs around his waist while your hands cradle his face and you sink further into his kiss, melt against his lips. You hear the rustling of clothes, feel how he picks up your discarded dress from the edge of the bar and spreads it on the counter, adjusting the textile before he sets you down on the wood, just to break from your mouth a few seconds later.

He smirks at your little gasp, licks his lower lip before raising his voice.

„Captain, huh? That a hidden request to join my crew?“

You gasp when you feel his fingers dig into the softness of your thighs, need a second to collect yourself before you scoff at his words, look at him through a glimmer of competition before you breathe out an „In your dreams, pirate.“

He only grins at that, eyes slightly narrowing as they slide down to his hands on your thighs, watches them when he spreads your legs to get new access to your leaking centre, his eyes staring shamelessly at it.

And just when you think to finally have the air to add another snarky comment, he suddenly thrusts back into you, one switft motion with which he fills you to the brim, makes you throw your head back as he falls back into a relentless rhythm, his cock slicking in and out of your warm wetness.

He leans over you again, holding you by the waist as he pounds into you, forcing high pitched moans and whimpers out of your throat that you simply can not hold back.

His thrusts feel so deep, hit you so perfectly and when he grabs one of your legs to raise it to his shoulder, you almost choke on the air in your throat, bliss filling you at the pleasure washing through you by his deepening movements.

You curse out an „Oh god-“ as you throw your head back, hear a breathed laugh from Edward when he grabs you by the hips again, adjusts your body on the textile of your dress, pulls you in to take his hard thrusts.

Another whimper leaves you as he partially folds you in half, sass and mockery leaving your body with each new thrust, slowly melting in the heat of a building orgasm within your body.

It doesn't help how he reaches out with his hand to search for your clit, forcing a loud moan from your throat when his finger presses against it.

„That it, darling? That the spot?“

Through your panting and heavy breathing, the dizziness in your vision, you see how he smirks at you, pure confidence written in his attractive features and you can only nod, breathe out a „Please-“, a word that only makes his smile widen.

Your lower body tenses, a coil clenching deep within your core, tight enough that it almost hurts.

„Don't hold back. Let me feel you come, fy nghariad.“

His voice slightly falters, breathless because of his own arousal, the tension with which he holds himself back, and his words only add fuel to the fire in your body, make the flames lap higher, reaching your chest, making your heart race.

Whimpers and gasps leave your throat, you tense, feel your thighs shiver, your entire body short-circuiting until eventually, you feel yourself breaking apart, tension and arousal reaching their peak, knocking you into an abyss of white noise, making you cry out in pleasure, your head falling back as arousal floods your veins.

His thrusts never waver, seem to get even harder, fucking you through your orgasm, almost making you pass out with the sheer overstimulation. Your brain turns to mush, simply melts away and when you look up at him, with tear-filled, flickering eyes and your tongue slightly peaking over your lower lip, he takes in a sharp, hissing breath, slipping dangerously close to an orgasm just by your gaze and your walls spasming, clenching and relaxing around him.

His hand trembles a little as he trails it further up your body, fondling your chest for a second and making you whine out at the soft feeling, before his fingers graze your neck, eventually rest on your cheek.

He spreads his thumb, runs it over the corner of your mouth, doesn't expect the way you push out your tongue to taste salt, gunpowder and rum on his skin. Not a second later, you allow his finger to slip into your mouth, relish in the way he draws a sharp breath when you lazily swirl your tongue around it.

The facade in front of his face cracks the slightest bit, and you see how he bites his lower lip, how his brows furrow a little in what seems to be despair, before he breathes out a „Shit, you're gonna make me cum, sweetheart.“

It's the cue you need and while you whine, shudder beneath each of his thrusts, you at some point slightly bite down into his finger, hard enough to make him jolt, hard enough to break his facade.

He gasps for air, lets out short „Fuck-“, before he holds onto your hip, digging the fingers of his free hand into the skin when he forces himself to pull out, holding you in place as warm, white seed spurts over the skin of your abdomen.

For a few moments, you only look at each other, breathe into the space between both of you, wallowing in the heat of each other's body. Your head is still spinning when Edward slightly leans forward, gently rests his forehead against yours before he lets out a heavy breath.

His eyes are dark and dominant when they dig into yours, captivate you with the slight glimmer within them.

„Aren't you just something else... Maybe I'll pick you up and simply take you with me. Wanna know what else that sweet mouth of yours can do.“

It doesn't matter what you learned your entire life, his words make you giddy and thoughtless, make your heart leap in joy and your lips curl to a smile.

„Careful, Kenway. My lips may seem sweet, but they come with a pair of teeth.“

He lets out a little groan, a sound of playful despair and frustration, before he leans further against your forehead, gently nudges his nose against yours.

„Fucking heavens, you're perfect.“

You smile when he kisses you, wrap your arms around him and become a mess of sweet nothingness beneath his hands when they start roaming your body again, not taking long until you throw your head back once more, sending sighed versions of his name into the warm night.

[imma-write-stuff]

Bayek, Ezio, and Altair Gets An SOS Note From Their AFAB S/O That Their Pregnant And Stuck On A Mission

*Gets Flashbacks of Khemu's death,*

Bayek will send a reply letter telling you to go somewhere safe and he'll cover for you. He lost family once, he's not letting it happen again.

"Whatever you're doing, S/O, stop, go find a place to hide, I'll send someone to fetch you."

After the mission is over, you apologize and admit you didn't know. Bayek would pull you into a hug.

"Don't scared me like that again,"

It'll take a bit for him to calm down, but once the fear is gone, joy will appear on his face. Becoming a father again is something Bayek pushed aside for the Hidden Ones. He's happy to have a second chance.

Ezio's eyes would nearly pop out of his skull as he scans the words.

"Amore Mio! I'm coming!"

Ezio will travel if he has to, once he finds you, he'll ask if you're ok. He'll take you to a place away from what you're doing and takes over. He'll have everything for you to rest.

After all and said is done he'll return to you and cuddle with you in bed. He'll place his hand on your stomach it hit him with a ton of bricks. Ezio is going to be a father.

He's not sure what the future will hold but he swore to protect you and your child.

Wait till he lets his mother, sister, and uncle know of the news.

Puts down the letter and goes to find you right now. As soon as he finds you, Altair will help you complete the mission. And get you out of whatever you're in.

He'll ask a doctor/midwife to check on you and the baby's wellbeing. He didn't want anything bad happen to you.

You were given the all clear, you were still in shock to just find out your with child.

"Don't worry I'm here,"

Altair gently grasp your shoulders and kisses your forehead, he was clearly shocked himself.

"I shouldn't gave you this mission, I'm sorry."

[recreationalfanfics]

All u gotta do to get away from Altaïr is hop into the nearest body of water since he can't swim. Just tread water and watch him pace and freak out from the shore

This made me ugly laugh, omg-

LITERALLY ALTAÏR JUST STANDING ON THE SHORE LIKE A DOG WITH AN ELECTRIC FENCE AROUND HIM. Imagine everytime his darling is mad at him, they just swim out into the water and stuff and he just yells at them before he's all: "WE CAN TALK ABOUT THIS."

Or, like, he just has a fucking row boat at the ready and he's all: "You have until the count of three before I row you back to land." and you threaten to capsize the boat in response.

[whaleofatjme1920]

Kinktober Day 26: Glory Hole

Glory Hole - Jacob Frye X GN!Reader, I don't describe what's between your legs only that you get penetrated

Warnings: 'cum dump', slight praise, smut stuff, slight voice kink

AN: I know it's delayed AND SHORT but guys I'm so tired you don't get it. I changed the tenses in here several times. Don't look at me

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

Reblogs are appreciated!

You love how he groans across the wall as thrusts into you. Your ass is pressed against it, hole greedily taking his cock as pounds into you as best as he can. Your eyes are rolled up as you moan within the confines of your small box.

"Please," you groan as you lightly thrust backwards, almost displeased that he can't touch you the way you want to be touched. The cons of being here, truly. "More," you beg.

"I'll give you more love," his deep voice purrs as his thick cock drags deliciously inside of you. It's the fifth time he's been inside of you. Twice down your throat, twice in your hole, and hopefully a third in your needy hole as well too. You squeeze around him like a death grip in an attempt to milk him.

Out of all the men you've been fucking, this one's your favorite. His cum, and some of your other clients, drip down your thighs as you hungrily take him again and again. Your hands brace on the opposite wall to hold you tight against the opening in your box.

"Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," you mewl breathlessly, wanting to come for him.

"That's it," he coos in his rich, velvety voice. Fuck you'd never get tired of hearing him speak. "Come on, take me deeper. Deeper-fuck you feel so good-" he rasps as his nails dig into the box's walls. Sweat beads on Jacob's brow as his balls slap against you just barely. Gods how he wants to dig his nails and his teeth into your flesh, maybe paint your face with his release.

You moan loudly as his thrusts get harsher and his thick cock buries even deeper, and your grin only widens when you finally felt him spill inside of you for the third time. Both of you are panting.

"Think you can handle another round?" He asks you while he pants.

[assassins-and-hidden-blades]

hello!! can you please write a drabble for connor with an s/o who just finished their last final, and now they just want to nap and cuddle with him? gender neutral please! thank you!!

05/03/2024: Hello! First ask of the year! I certainly can try, friend! Thanks for your undying patience! Shit has happened, bros, but I've just been re-reading my old fics and they've brought me some long lost joy, so I am trying to make a comeback! (Please reblog this so people know I'm posting again -- with evidence!) This is a perfect thing to write on the day of my exam results (we passed, guys!) so now I can reflect on the traumatising experience that was exam season.

The Complete Masterlist

Finally (Connor x GN!Reader)

You put down your pen with a sigh of relief.

Finally, it was all over.

These last few weeks were torture; hours of studying a day, taking a break only to eat or to steal some hours of restless sleep. Your brain fried while you studied, and you half wondered how you made it through exam season alive.

A few hours ago, you were on the verge of throwing up your breakfast. Now, as you turned the lock to your apartment door, you could only feel intense fatigue. Gentle noises from the kitchen put a smile on your face. Connor was never a loud person, in both words and actions.

"I'm back," you announced, entering the kitchen to find Connor making two cups of tea.

"Y/n," he greeted with a reassuring smile. "How was it?"

"Not terrible, but could've been better," you shrugged. At this point, you really couldn't care. It was over, and that's all that mattered. A yawn overcame you. "Tired now, though."

Connor nodded, pouring water from the freshly boiled kettle. "I made us some tea. What would you like to do to celebrate?"

You thanked him gratefully, moving to take your favourite mug off of the counter. "Honestly? Can we go back to bed for a while? I want to sleep these past few weeks off."

"Of course." He followed you as you led the way to your shared bedroom. Teas placed on the bedside counters, you changed into some comfier clothes and all but collapsed into bed. Connor climbed in with slightly more tact, and you crawled into his arms. He pulled you close with one hand and opened a book he was reading with the other.

His thumb gently traced the skin of your arm, soothing and constant. It wasn't long before your eyelids began to close, fluttering in time to his heartbeat.

Sleep came soon after.

[smartycvnt]

Rough smut headcanons with Kassandra?

Kassandra loves showing off her strength and aggression sometimes

She'll lift you up and fuck you against a wall if you let her

The hand marks on your ass and bruises on your hips from her fingers pressing in will be there for a week at least

Kassandra makes a game of how hard she can thrust while keeping the sex enjoyable sometimes

This is when she really likes overstimulating you

[thelastemzy]

Me using my blog again for awareness...

Israel just striked a FULL HOSPITAL in Gaza.

A hospital full of doctors, nurses, paramedics, workers, volunteers, injured, waiting people and already dead bodies. Anyone wanna be silent still?

[rea-grimm]

Grim reaper Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad

You ran at night as long as your legs could handle. You knew he was after you. You turned the corner and looked back. He was there. He was standing on the roof of a building, the full moon illuminating his silhouette. A figure in a white hood and tattered white cloak that shone in the darkness like stars in the sky. You blinked, and he was gone.

You started running again. You've seen him several times in the past. Always moments before someone died. Sometimes your eyes met, but he didn't notice you any more on his hunt. However, today was different. You were his next target.

The longer you ran, the more you felt your strength draining. You got tangled up in a cluster of carolers and tried to sync up with them and get out of sight. You tried to catch your breath and tried not to attract unnecessary attention. 

You were walking to the next house when you noticed him. He walked along the other side of the street, scanning all the people around him with his penetrating golden eyes.

You held your breath and had to control yourself as best you could when he passed your group so you wouldn't reveal yourself. As soon as he passed and you gained a small lead, you ran again and turned into the alley that led away.

You ran through the gate that led to the park. You meandered through the trees until a pond appeared in front of you with a small island in the middle, to which a narrow, dilapidated footbridge led. You ran over it, into the woods and hid in a hole that was masked by a bush.

"You can hide, but you can't hide from me!" you heard him say as he passed you. You didn't want to wait here for your end and decided to act. You took the rock and threw it at the first pier. The noise attracted the grim reaper, who went to check it out with his sword drawn.

You ran in the other direction towards the narrow footbridge where the competitions were mostly held. It was risky, but it was what you needed. You crossed it as quickly as possible, helping yourself with your balance with your hands. You shot out of the park and headed back into the maze of city streets.

You ran through several streets. You were about to run into the main street when you saw a flash of white before someone grabbed your arm and pulled you back into a smaller street. 

You bumped your back into him and felt his hand on your neck. He brought his short sword to your stomach with his other hand.

“Your time is up,” he said seriously, increasing his grip on your neck. The tip of his sword slowly dug into your stomach.

“No, please,” you whimpered, trying to wriggle out of his steel grip. But in vain.

“Try begging more,” he instructed you.

"Please, I don't want to. Please,” you begged, squirming.

"And why should I spare you? Kings, and world leaders, all begged. Everyone wanted a second chance. They didn't get her. Why should I spare you?” he asked you.

“Because… because…” You tried to come up with a good reason because he must have heard a lot of them in his endlessly long life.

“No reason, hmm? What a shame,” he said and you felt his breath on your ear.

“Please,” you begged, closing your eyes. The grim reaper loosened his grip on your neck and his blade retracted as well, only to switch hands. You now had the blade at your throat and his other hand was around your waist.

“I love it when you beg,” he purred into your ear before kissing your earlobe. At that moment, he also let his short sword disappear. He enveloped you in small kisses before turning you to him. From the ear, he went to the cheek, the jaw and finally the neck, where the prints of his hand were still visible.

“Altair,” you moaned and wrapped your arms around his neck.

"You really have no reason to live?" he asked you when he stopped kissing you.

“I do, but I didn't want it to get to your head,” you replied with a smug smile.

“Cruel,” he grumbled before kissing you.

“That's for how rude you were,” you retorted. Even now you could feel his hands on your neck.

“I'm sorry about that,” he mumbled and gave you a big hug.

“Well, I don't know if I'll forgive you,” you played offended, pulling away slightly and turning your back to him.

“I already apologized,” and he kissed your neck where his fingerprints were still. "Don't be angry," and he showered kisses on your neck. “A little revenge for that stunt with the footbridge,” he said between kisses before turning you back to him. You couldn't resist anymore and gave in to him.

"How about we continue at home?" you asked as you pulled away for air with red lips.

“Agree,” he replied before taking you in his arms and disappearing with you like steam over a pot.

Assassin's Creed Masterlist

[callmemrskenway]

What's sleeping with Arno, Ezio, Jacob, Altaïr and Connor like ? As in literally the nervous system being relatively inactive, the eyes closed, the postural muscles relaxed, and consciousness practically suspended kind of sleeping.

Who steals blankets? Who's a human heater? How do they react to their partner being a human heater? Morning person? Who's the biggest cuddler (doing the cuddling and enjoying receiving cuddling)

Fem reader of that's ok

Thank you ❣️

Arno:

- Okay sleeping with him would be the most comfortable and perfect experience if he wasn't such a BLANKET HOG. He genuinely feels bad for it but it's not like he can't stop it, at least thats what he claims.

- So to remedy this, you have him wrap his arms around you and cuddle up to him ad closely as possible so 1. he can't steal blankets if his arms have you in them and you keep them there the entire night and 2. you just like being close to him and he isn't complaining.

- This does result in his arm falling asleep depending on how you're laying

- Arno was also raised in nobility so chances are, he had to wake up pretty early in the morning and that internal clock just hasn't gone away so yeah, he wakes up at a reasonable time.

- But he still runs late because OH MY, YOU ARE CLINGING TO HIM!? Guess he can't do assassin stuff, damn, looks like he'll just have to stay in bed with you!

- Overall, I rate him: 7/10, because he does bring you breakfast in bed but THE BLANKETS KNOCK HIM DOWN A PEG OKAY.

Ezio:

- You wouldn't steal blankets from him, I honestly think that he's among one of the few assassin's that have a naturally warm body temperature.

- And if not, he can make it warm~ With cuddles, of course! And extra blankets! Honestly he'd be so concerned if you got cold and would never be able forgive himself if you were!

- More leisurely in terms of getting up in the morning, honestly. He does kinda wake up in the early morning out of habit due to old one night stands but then he sees you and he smiles before holding you and going back to bed.

- BIGGEST CUDDLER, HE LIKES TO GIVE YOU CUDDLES but he also wouldn't mind receiving them. Like one day, you decide to be the big spoon and he just lays there and he's like: "I think this just awoke something in me."

- I think that he'd like laying on your chest the most, unless it makes you feel uncomfortable because he really likes hearing your heart beat and how it relaxes him or he'll sync up his breathing with yours♡

- Overall I rate him a good: 10/10 and he's definetly one of the best cuddlers on the list!

Jacob:

(Sir, pls reject me so I can get over you-)

- The problem is getting Jacob asleep and awake a huge amount of the time, honestly. He's too excited to sleep and he likes to sleep in honestly. So you gotta drag him into bed and drag him out of it at times.

- Honestly I feel like Jacob would be one of those people with cold hands so he likes to put them on your skin because its so warm and you just yelp everytime but they warm up rather quickly. Still makes you really annoyed tho.

- LOVES GIVING YOU CUDDLES, IT'S HIS FAVORITE THING EVER. He gets to hold you and talk about somethings he and the Rooks did or how he messed with Evie and he slowly gets sleepy and looks down at his chest to see you sleeping on it and smiles as he kisses you and decides maybe he should get some sleep too.

- Absolutely will wake you up with tickles if he manages to wake up before you do, its his favorite thing and sometimes it results in the both of you falling out of bed but you guys just laugh it off.

- His legs are always intertwined with yours, too. Like when he's sleeping on his side, he'll hook one leg onto you and you might even wake up with his fingers being loosely intertwined with yours.

- Overall: 9/10, warm up your hands before you hug your wife, buddy.

Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad:

- Okay but just to get this out of the way, YOU CUDDLE HIM. Like how can you not want to hold this man in your arms and make him feel safe and secure and ease his guilty conscious for all the things he's done and tell him he's doing and creating something better?? He's awkward about it at first and just kinda...lays there but don't be mislead, he actually enjoys the feeling of being in your arms!

- Also once he is comfortable with it, he will cuddle you back tho. You also act as a human heater for him because there's just something really comforting about having you with him when he sleeps, it doesn't stop him from having bad dreams, but when he wakes up and knows you're there next to him, it helps a lot.

- Is also another person you have to drag to bed because we all know this man is going through stuff and might have workaholic tendencies but yeah. You kinda knew that entering a relationship with him.

- Also wakes up at the ass crack of dawn too, not gonna lie. Usually, he manages to sneak out of bed but when you then grab him and tell him to stay in bed a bit longer and remind that he doesn't have to get up for a while. He silently lays back down and he doesn't fall asleep but he does like to silently admire you.

- HIM WITH A BLANKET THIEF WOULD BE SO FUNNY HONESTLY. Bc early on in the relationship, he'd be too awkward to confront you but as the relationship progresses, he'd totally just kinda glare at you silently before tugging the blankets back to him even if it does wake you up. But he loves you okay♡

- Overall: I rate him a 10/10. Like, he deserves to be held.

Connor Kenway:

- As a fellow native, let me tell you this: WE LOVE OUR BLANKETS. Blanket thieving is not an issue, because he'd have a lot of blankets and I mean a LOT of blankets. So if you're somehow stealing all the blankets, then the most likely scenario is that you got into a fight and you're being petty and he just kinda silently stares at you like: "I said I was sorry-"

- Okag but he is also naturally pretty warm so he's definetly a human heater, he also really enjoys holding you because chances are you might be much smaller compared to him or he just likes how your body fits with his so well.

- Also wakes up early tho but considering he provides a majority of your warmth, you sometimes refuse to let him go and sometimes he tells you has to get up but other times, he can't resist you and lays down with you a little longer.

- If you were a natural human heater though, he wouldn't mind either, he likes how comfy laying in bed with you is. Especially after a hard day of training or helping around the homestead, its just something he genuinely looks forward too and internally gets excited about.

- A light sleeper honestly. So he can sometimes wake up randomly in the middle of the night or if you have a bad dream, you can feel free to wake him up and find comfort in him or like, if you want a glass of water but you're too scared to get up and get it by yourself, yeah, you can wake him up for that too.

- Overall: 10/10. Best sleeping buddy, not just because I'm biased but he's BUILT for cuddle time, I believe.

[reemonna]

Hello can you make a another hc’s or Connor ? ;)

Yes, sure! Thank you for the request! (And sorry for the delay) To be honest, I was looking, lately, for some excuses to write more about Connor since he's my favourite assassin so here are some Connor headcanons. I hope you love 'em! (I will certainly be uploading other Assassin's Creed characters headcanons, but I think I'm going to stick with Connor for a while)

When you're stressed or panicked with Ratonhnhaké:ton / Connor Kenway

He blames himself for what you had to go through

He will try so hard not to show it. But his stoic face gaunts gradually seeing you weep and sob in his arms

He shows various signs, biting his lips, intensely moving his gaze away, gritting his jaws, or clenching his hands cruelly that his knuckles turn white

He gets narky and manic to the point he could set the whole world on fire just for your sake

He's considered socially awkward, thus why he's not really able to express what he really feels correctly -and nicely at the same time- since he comes from an isolated society, and he doesn't open up to anyone about any of these sensitive issues and events, especially these which happened to him as a child. So he just stays silent, holding the urge to say anything that might make the situation worse as much as possible

He will leave you alone for some time to let you calm down and manage yourself on your own should he feel you're stressed out in his presence

He tries containing and perhaps dragging these vengeful and bloodlust thoughts out of your consciousness -in a situation of one of your loved ones dying by the enemy-, whether by distracting you or alerting you of what walking down that road could lead to

He doesn't wish to witness you turning into someone he long-lived detested and fought, like the templars, or like himself sometimes

He'll try to know who's behind your sorrows and deal with them, staining his hands with more blood to keep yours clean

He will lean closer to you, aiming to embrace you, and by accepting his offer he will gently wrap his arms around you, holding you tight and absorbing your anger

Taking you to a tranquil place, where no one can be seen or heard except for your footsteps, and maybe the animals running around you -if you were in an open space among the nature-

He thinks a little walk in such places could ease the tension even a little bit, since he used to spend a lot of his time there whenever he wants to clear his mind

[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.

[tamiisnthere]

Altaïr ❤️ Reader Oneshot - Miscarriage

Summary: Reader has miscarried and Altaïr comforts her. Trigger Warning: Mention of Miscarriage (Also sorry for bad English as always. 😓)

I wanted to write something like this for a long time, but writing suddenly stopped being fun for me because my fanfics are always trash. 😭

[Name] was lying on the bed, hugging her legs to chest and staring into nothingness. Her eyes were red from constant crying. Her broken heart ached from the recent tragedy. She felt like she had lost a part of herself. She closed her eyes once again and whimpered quietly.

Altaïr watched his partner in the shadows of their bedroom. He hid his emotions, but inside he felt pitiful for her. Soon he slowly walked over to the bed, laid down next to her and hugged her gently.

"Habibti…" he whispered softly in her ear and snuggled closer.

"Altaïr… I-" [Name] stuttered, fighting against her tears, "I'm sorry…" "For what?" the young assassin wondered, gently caressing her cheek to make her look into his golden eyes. "For not telling you I was pregnant." He shook his head slowly, "No… It's not your fault."

"But it is! That's why I miscarried!" "Shhhh… Calm down, [Name]…" Altaïr comforted her by hugging her tighter, "I understand that you were afraid of my reaction because I told you I'm not ready to be a father yet."

Altaïr snuggled closer and kissed [Name’s] cheek. "But that doesn't mean I'm mad at you."

[Name] continued to be silent and sighed, starting to relax in his embrace. "You know… We could have had a baby boy," she whispered to him. Altaïr gently stroked her hair and pressed his face to her neck. He placed his hand on her belly.

He couldn't believe there was their child, who could be born in a few months. His eyes began to sting from the tears. The day before he was on a mission and received a message that his beloved had miscarried, he quickly returned to Masyaf as soon as possible. He could become a father. He could finally have a family. Their son was a part of both his parents combined.

The miscarriage was caused by [Name]'s stress due to pressure from her master and fear of her partner's reaction to announcing her pregnancy. Even though Altaïr wasn't with her the whole time, he could imagine her pain and trauma that she experienced.

"[Name]…" Altaïr broke the silence, "Please, don't blame yourself for what happened. I should have taken the responsibility when we made love for the first time."

"No, Altaïr," [Name] spoke up, "I should have stopped you, I shouldn't have enjoyed it."

They were silent for a moment in their embrace, listening to each other's breathing. Altaïr leaned his elbow against the pillow to look at [Name]'s face: "[Name], you know very well how much I love you." She looked at him, "I-I know you do..." she whined softly.

Altaïr smiled sadly and caressed her cheek, "Habibti, you're the only one who got my eyes…" He leaned his face towards hers and their lips touched while closing their eyes. [Name] placed her hands on his cheeks, slowly pulling down his hood so she could feel his hair.

Shortly after the kiss, they leaned their foreheads together and looked at each other's eyes. "Altaïr…" [Name] whispered with a small smile, "I'm glad I still have you. But…" she got nervous, "But what if we never manage to have a child in the future?"

Altaïr nuzzled into the side of her neck to comfort her, "You don't have to worry, dear. When you become my wife, we'll try again. And if you get pregnant again before marriage, please tell me and I will ensure you will be healthy and stress-free. I know you will be a great mother one day."

His words encouraged [Name], she smiled and cuddled closer to him. "Thank you, Altaïr… This is the main reason why I love you so much." "I love you as well, my gorgeous dove…" ♡

[recreationalfanfics]

An Unstable Atmosphere

Part 1

Summary: You attempt to escape when you wake up in the captain's quarters of the Morrigan.

Note: Yandere themes, somewhat unserious banter at the end, this is a strictly platonic yandere x reader story

When you wake up, your eyelids still feel heavy and you feel like a stranger in your body as you feel all sorts of pains and aches. Your stinging eyes have a harder time adjusting to the light, your muscles ache and creak as if they will give out from under you as you pull yourself up, and you touch your lip which feels puffy and bruised. When the dull pain makes you flinch, everything comes back to you. The mass murder of everyone you knew, the way you were beaten around by Templar footmen and…

  And Shay. 

Now in a panic, you throw the blanket off of your form and inspect the area around you. The first thing you realize is that you were below deck on a ship, and the second thing you realize is that it was specifically the Captain’s quarters judging from the desk of a scattered yet neat pile of paperwork and the giant portrait of the dreaded traitor himself. If you recalled the rumors and stories to be true, Shay was about only two or three years older than yourself when he became an official Assassin, but seeing the portrait and remembering his face honestly made it hard to picture. You had to give credit to the artist where it was due, they captured his imposing and austere eyes rather well that it sent shivers down your spine, but it only made it harder for you to picture that his aged and hardened face was ever an assassin. He truly looked like a Templar, hateful and evil. 

You hesitantly step your feet onto the ground as you sit on the edge of the bed, taking in more details of the area. You still bore your robes and your hood seemed to be sitting on the back of the chair. Your paranoid eyes look at the door and then towards the window; as if a Templar was randomly going to jump out and attack you, but once you gain the piece of mind; you stand up and walk towards the chair to grab your robes and make your outfit whole once more. Despite the pounding in your chest and the overall awfulness of the situation, there is a small amount you gain as you pull your hood over your head and it gives you motivation.

You’re alive…for now. May as well keep testing Lady Fate.

You briefly glance over the papers but find nothing of use, you also realize that your wrist piece with your hidden blade was not attached to your robe and was nowhere to be found, but you weren’t really surprised by that realization. It wouldn’t have done you much good anyways, seeing as you were never really handy with weapons, but your mentors often told you that you had a gift for stealth and having the element of surprise on your side. The very least you can do for those mentors is believe in their words and in yourself as you get your boots on and walk towards the door, pressing your ear against it. The chatter is rather low and soft and you don’t hear the sound of many scuffling feet, not to mention that you still hear the sound of seagulls which is a very good sign that you’re still nearby land but the ship is definitely still moving.

They’re in the middle of casting off.

With a closing time gap, your thoughts come together to come up with a very poorly thought out plan but one you felt would be your best bet. You would certainly be outnumbered but if you were quick enough, you’d be able to escape the remaining guards below deck and everyone else above deck would be too busy readying the ship to notice you escaping right away, and that once you managed to get to shore; you’d either buy yourself enough time to get a headstart before they turned their ship around or they’d simply deem you unimportant and continue their sailing to do whatever high ranking templars as Shay did. Grabbing your pillows and blankets, you take a deep breath before slamming the door open and throwing them at the first two templars you see guarding your door. You don’t catch their panicked yelling and you knock over everything in your path until you find the stairs. 

A little earlier, Shay was steering the boat; pondering over his own morals and choices. It was clear that while his crew didn’t voice it, they were all very confused why he of all people allowed the little assassin who was currently asleep in his quarters to live. Now that Shay thought about it, he couldn’t really understand it himself; obviously, it was unfortunate that someone that young became an assassin but you weren’t exactly the first novice assassin he had to face. Although, there was a huge difference between you and your unfortunate peers; while they foolishly overestimated their abilities and underestimated his experience because they equated their youth to superiority, you were just…helpless. Like a baby bird with a broken wing, at the mercy of the wolves around you, Shay just couldn’t help but want to take you under his wing and keep you safe. Unlike the others who were too arrogant and humbled in their last moments, there was something inside of him screaming at him to not let you die, and that in such a short amount of time; you’ve endeared yourself to him. 

It was wrong, he thought to himself. The very thought of you being killed despite being a part of the organization that betrayed him long ago felt…wrong. As he tucked you in the bed of his quarters, his hand gently caressed the side of your face, and for a brief moment; he felt a sense of familial connection. One that he hadn’t felt in a long time since his dear friend Liam and he realized he could not lose it. He could not lose you. There was no doubt in Shay’s mind that you needed him, especially as his eyes glazed over the injuries on your face with disgust, but he also knew that he needed you in his life just as much. He needed to protect and watch over you. He needed to teach you the ways of the world and softly introduce you to harsh truths. He needed you to look up at him and see him as not a disgraced assassin or as an untrustworthy Templar but as an idol, a mentor, and maybe even a father. There was an oddly warm feeling in his heart at that thought but he is pulled out of that daze the moment he hears loud clattering coming from the hatch that led below deck and that soon enough, your hooded figure pops out from it and immediately darts towards the side of the ship.

“STOP THEM!” Shay roars, he feels his body instantly become hysterical.

Side-eyeing the dock, it was far away that you couldn’t jump on it and make your escape back to land but it was close enough that it would take just a few strokes and a climb up and you’d be gone. By yourself, all alone, in the big cruel world. While some part of Shay expected you to pull something like this, a large part of him was slightly impressed but mostly worried. After all, once you got off his ship; where would you run to? All nearby guilds were already killed and the ones who managed to flee had escaped and erased all tracks for you to follow. You weren’t even armed with a weapon and you had no money. 

As he questioned your poorly thought-out idea after ordering his men to stop you, he also instantly turned his wheel to steer his ship further from the dock and more into the ocean. He yells out another order to go full sail and that immediately heightens the sense of urgency you had already. One of his men tries to tackle you but you duck out of the way and slide between the legs of another who tried to grab you in his arms. You reacted quicker than you did yesterday and it definitely impressed him and even reminded him of himself when he was younger. 

“I’ve got ‘em, Captain!” The navigator beside him shouted, Shay heard the sound of him withdrawing his pistol and he immediately turned around to grab his arm and quickly aim it anywhere else that wasn’t you.

As the two men scuffled, you yelped when you heard the gunshot. Failing to realize that it was nowhere near you but also not really caring, you dodge the last of his men near the edge and you reach the edge and perch yourself on it. Shay catches a glimpse of you as you try not to think about the water below and that the distance isn’t getting any shorter the longer you wait. 

“FULL SAIL!” Someone yells.

It doesn’t take long before the wind fills the sails and the change of speed is drastic. Much so that you stumble from your spot and yell as you fall over, your hand managing to grab the side.

“NO!” Shay cries, immediately bolting towards you.

The sea spray kisses your boots and you look back at the dock, amazed and upset by how quickly the ship got away but if you let go right now, maybe you could still make it. You pinch your nose and close your eyes to ready yourself for the water but as you let go of the side of the ship, two large hands grab your wrist. You’re nothing more than a rag doll as you’re roughly hoisted away from the side and onto the ship’s floor. You stare up and your heart drops in your chest as Shay kneels in front of you, much like he did yesterday, but this time he put a hand on your shoulder. It was a tight grip, one that despite his gloves and your robes, you could feel his nails digging into you like a predator desperately clutching onto its prey. His face looks worried but you don’t know why, maybe because his prisoner or hostage or whatever he saw you as nearly escaped. 

“Do you know how reckless that was!?” He hisses at you, his eyes now narrowing.

Still coming down from the adrenaline rush, your throat runs dry and you can’t seem to find a response. However, it didn’t really matter if you could or not because Shay quickly pulls you up to your feet and leads you back down below deck. He takes in the turned-over tables, chairs, and other miscellaneous things. His door swung a little most likely from the event that just occurred above deck. Then he finds his anger calming down and he briefly feels amused when he sees the blanket and pillow from his quarters haphazardly strewn on the ground outside, quickly gathering that you most likely threw them at the guards. Meanwhile, you struggle against his grasp and demand he let you go, knowing that it’d fall on deaf ears. Regardless of how you try to squirm out of it, it is all in vain.

He soon sits you on the bed as he slams the door shut, his other hand now grips your free shoulder and now it’s just you and him.

“What were you thinking?” He demands, trying not to be threatening but the frustration in his voice was clear. After a night of rest, you’re able to fake a brave face as you mimic his expression, furrowing your brows and trying to form your lips into a scowl as equally severe looking as his.

“Where are you taking me?” You shot back.

His expression changes, seeing you doing your best to look threatening, and he fights the urge to pinch your cheek fondly and tease you for it. Already, he feels an old part of himself reawaken, a more softer and tender side that he had thought years of being a Templar had washed away. When he pulls his hands away from you and crosses them over his chest, he becomes noticeably less angry but he still keeps his somber appearance.

“Do you really think you’re in the position to ask questions?” He asks, raising an eyebrow. You simply respond with a, “Don’t care. Where are you taking me?” 

The silence is loud, uncomfortably so. However, your apprehension soon turns into frustration. This man had murdered your found family, this man was a selfish self-righteous traitor, and not to mention that for some sick reason; he kept you alive. The very least he could do is give you some answers. You open your mouth to once again demand answers but he beats you to it.

“Here’s how this is gunna’ work now.” He begins finally, “I ask a question, you answer. Then you ask me, and I’ll answer.” 

“How do I know you’ll be honest?”

The corners of his mouth upturned into a little smile, one that only increased the rage and fear brewing deeply within you.

“I’ll be as honest as you are. And trust me, I’ll know when you tell me a lie.” He answers, sounding somewhat genuine but your mind remains ever skeptical. Leaning on the side of his desk, arms still crossed, he gives a look that almost reminds you of a parent staring down their child, “Do you understand?”

You stay silent out of malice and spite for a while but then your eyes look to the side in defeat, “Yes…”

“Good. First question: What’s your name?”

“Hezekiah Needleman.” 

His head lops to the side a little and he gives you a long stare, clearly not amused by your false answer, and you couldn’t help but feel a teensy bit smug at his reaction before you say: “Alright, fine…It’s (Y/n). (Y/n) (L/n).”

“See how easy that was? Now, (Y/n), it’s your turn to ask a question-”

“Where are you taking me?” You demand once again.

“Home.”

It was a simple one-worded answer in any other situation, but in this context, it was like a baffling riddle. Raising more questions than answers, your expression becomes bewildered, “What do you mea-”

“Ah-ah, (Y/n). S’my turn,” He chides as unfolds his arms, his hands gripping the edge of the desk as he leans further onto it. You glare at him but stay silent so he can get his question over with, “Why did you join the assassins?” 

This question takes you off guard and your hand reaches to your other arm and grips it, a visible sign of discomfort, and your eyes quickly sadden in such a way that Shay almost wants to take back his question, unsure of what wounds he might’ve just opened.

“They raised me, why wouldn’t I?” You say, hatred once again growing for the man who stood across from you.

“What happened to your parents?” He asked, his intrigue growing.

“Isn’t it my turn to ask a question?” You snapped. He wants to say something, to have the last word, but even he admits to himself he walked into that one. So he silently nods, a quiet gesture that lets you know it’s your turn to ask a question.

“What do you mean you’re taking me ‘home’? Where is this ship going?” 

Shay tries to figure out what he’s going to say, how he can explain it to you even though he struggles to really explain it himself. 

“Back to my estate. Where I will train you and show you what the Brotherhood really is.”

You open your mouth, again frustrated with how vague and confusing his answers are but then you close your mouth, not wanting to set yourself up for another pointless tease from him. Shay, quite pleased with your lack of rebuttal, then asks you: “Now, what of your family?”

“Dead. Because of you,” Your tone is bitter and your eyes harden again, “but if you’re talking about my real family, I don’t know. I was told the Templars were responsible for my becoming an orphan.”

“Did the Brotherhood tell you that?”

“Yes. And if you think the words of an old traitor are gonna change my mind, then I wish you the best of luck.” You snarl at him. 

Something about you calling him a “traitor” enrages him, definitely not towards you but that bitterness towards the Brotherhood grows at your words and you can see that your words stung him.

“You’ll find out very quickly, (Y/n), that I don’t need luck. I make my own.” He then straightens his back and goes towards the door of his quarters, “Question time is over.”

You stand up indignantly, demanding that he returns, but you’re only answer is the sound of the door closing; this time you hear it locking and you stand in silence before you growl and kick the leg of his bed.

Putting the keys to his quarters back into his pocket, Shay now understands just how tangled you are in the Brotherhood’s webs and how it’ll be hard work to get you to see the truth, but he is now more than certain that it’ll be for your own good. When he returns to the top of the deck, he feels raindrops and immediately looks up at the sky above.

The sky is grey and the clouds begin to darken. He knows that it'll just be a day or two of rain but he still thinks to himself that it'd be better to sail with caution. After all, he had precious cargo on board.