#ezio reader insert

[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!

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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.

[mavrisfanfics]

[Request] - Ezio x F!ChildhoodFriend!Reader - Waiting

Request: 

Fandom: Assassin’s Creed

Pairing: Ezio Auditore x F!ChildhoodFriend!Reader

Words:1246

Warnings: None, I think

Notes: I wrote this super quick because I didn’t have much time, I don’t even remember what I was trying to do here, it’s been months since I wrote and I only edit it now because I forgot to do so until now. Past few months have been draining, sorry!

She shuddered in the cold breeze. The wind whispered in the dark, coaching her to retreat back into the palace for the night, but she stood her ground.

Waiting.

The wind would, sometimes, carry to her the sound of clinking armor, and occasionally she'd see the glint of said armor peeking through the foliage of the garden, reflecting the torches the guards carried in their rounds.

She dreamt of running, of stealthily weaving through the guards in the gardens bellow and disappear into the night, forever. But she knew she couldn't do it alone.

She had to wait.

Her shoulders sagged. She clicked her nails against the balcony's rail. She sighed.

She waited.

She was running out of time. Her wedding was tomorrow. To Cesare Borgia, of all people. 

If she were anyone else, she'd be happy with this arrangement. Cesare was powerful, and so far the interactions between them had been nice. It was one of the best marriages her family could have arranged. 

But she knew about the rumors. Worst yet, she knew they were true. She knew getting into the Borgia family would be a death sentence. But she couldn't just leave on her own. 

So she waited. 

The very soft and light clink of armor right behind her pulled her from her thoughts.

"Sorry for keeping you waiting, bella" Ezio's voice cut through the silence. She turned to him. He stuck to the shadows, making sure the light that bled through the window didn't give him away. She couldn't see many of his features, but she knew he was as handsome as usual. She smiled. 

"Took you long enough! I almost thought you wouldn't come." She whispered.

"You know I'd never leave you to rot here." Usually his voice carried a light, teasing, tone that put her at ease, even in the most dire of situations, but not this time. 

It brought her terrible memories of that day in Florence. It was the first time she'd hear him use that tone, when he's told her of his family's execution, that he was running away, and that he promised he'd come back for her someday. 

It was terrifying seeing him leave like that, distressed, and knowing there was nothing she could do to help her friend, lest she put her own family in danger. 

So she waited. 

And when he finally returned, he told her everything, like he always did. But unlike all those times as children, where Ezio would sneak her out of her house and out into the city to cause trouble, she couldn't join him in his mission that time. 

So, she waited some more. She waited for a more appropriate time to tell him her feelings. She waited for a time where she could have Ezio back in her life safely. 

And then she got offered to the Borgia. Because her family didn't have enough power, apparently. 

She thought nothing of it. She knew she couldn't stay single forever and it was only a matter of time until her family sent her off to marry in an arrangement that would benefit them. Sure, she heard the rumors, but she thought they were just that, rumors. 

It wasn't until Ezio found out that she realized how bad it was. The way he almost flew into a fit of rage when she nonchalantly told him who she was going to marry was terrifying, but nowhere close to the way she felt when she realized just who she was about to marry. 

Her interactions with Ceasare had been pleasant, but once she knew what hid behind the mask she couldn't help but notice the little tells in his behavior. It was hard to keep her composure, but she could smile, nod and pray. Ezio promised he'd take her far away from that madness, but they had to wait for the right time. 

So she waited. 

And now, just before her wedding day, here he was. 

As promised. "Let's get out of here, then!" She said with a smile. Ezio, however, signaled her to stop. 

"Not yet, I have a plan, but we'll need to wait for tomorrow." She glared at him, mouth wide open. "Don't worry, bella, it's a solid plan, you just need to wait a few-" 

"No!" Ezio jumped at her tone. She noticed his reaction and realized how loud she'd just been. After checking to see that no one had heard her, she continued with a lower volume, but voice just as sharp. "Ezio, I am done with waiting! I've waited for years! I waited for my best friend to return to me for years after you ran from Florence, I waited years for you to solve your stuff so I could have you back in my life again. I've waited months for you to take me out of this God forsaken marriage and away for these lunatics, and now you tell me I need to wait even more!? No! Take me out of here right now! I'm tired of waiting to be with you, damn it!" 

"... For a moment I thought that was a confession, bella." Ezio chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. She wasn’t having any of it. 

"...It was." 

Silence hung around them. Nature itself held its breath, waiting. 

"I've waited so long to tell you how much I love you, Ezio." She knew it was risky to confess like this. If he didn't feel the same, he could leave her there to rot. 

But she didn't care anymore. She didn't want to wait any longer for someone else to save her.  She'd leave on her own if she had to.  

Ezio reached out to her. He grabbed her wrist delicately, as if she was made of glass, and slowly pulled her into the shadows, into his arms. 

"Bella, you have no idea how long I waited to hear that." 

With his warmth around her, she finally relaxed, as if the weight of the world had fallen off her shoulders. She reached for him, held his face in her hands. She drowned in his eyes. Even in the dark of the night, his eyes shone like gems. 

"Take me out of here, then. Right now. I don't care if it's dangerous, if I'm leaving everything behind. I only need you, Ezio. I'll follow you to end of the world just… take me out of here." 

Ezio had no words to reply. He nodded, before leaning in and capturing her lips in the softest, yet most desperate kiss any of them ever had. 

Nature finally released its breath, content with the outcome. The cold wind shook her hair and sent a shiver down her spine, as if urging the two to get moving, to get someplace warm and, most of all, safe. 

"Let's go then, bella." 

As they ran away from the Borgia estate, she couldn't help but look back. She questioned if she should have stayed in her bedroom, in her comfortable life, one most people would kill for. But despite how warm the light looked, still bleeding into the empty balcony, it didn't feel as warm as Ezio's hand, guiding her through the darkness, towards her freedom.  

It sure didn't beat the smiles on their faces. Warm, loving, honest. Smiles she never would have seen or had, if she decided to stay. 

She held no regrets as she ran through the dark night, guided by pure happiness, one she'd waited for so long to have. 

[jofie-does-things]

L’Assassino Immortale

Summary: As a seasoned art curator, you’re no stranger to mishaps in art auctions on the small and large-scale. On this trip to Italy, you thought you’d seen it all. Accidentally stumbling into cult stuff is a new one for you.

Pairing: (Technically) Modern!Ezio x Art Curator!Reader

Word Count: 5.9K

Genre: Angst (ig?), Fluff, Suspense

Warnings: Implications of death, Blood, Attempted human trafficking, Canon-typical violence

Author’s Note: I know that I said that the next fic I posted, it’d be a Connor one, but I wanted to write something for Halloween. And also it was supposed to be 1K words MAX, but, alas, I simply do not control the plot.

I’m still working on a few different fics and the requests that are in my inbox so don’t worry! I’m hoping to have a little more free time soon to finish those.

Feel free to drop a request into my inbox and enjoy!!

“You look wonderful, mia cara.” A small shiver runs down your spine at the pet name, but you mentally chastise yourself for lingering on it. It’s not his fault that he’s been familiar right off the bat, but what you can control is how you interpret his friendliness. And it’s not a good idea to make advances on your temporary escort to a very important art auction.

“Grazie Ezio.” The roll of the ‘r’ is awkward and stilted off of your tongue and the man helping you tug the zipper of your dress up has the opportunity to tease you for your rusty Italian, but he doesn’t take it. The heat in your cheeks must rival a space heater at this point. “I really appreciate you helping me out with this. I don’t know why my dress chose now of all times to revolt against me.”

It was your attempt at shifting the embarrassment off of your shoulders because you’d rather have him think of you as witty and charming than awkward and dumb. A small brush of warmth flows across the tops of your shoulders as he huffs out a laugh and you have to fight back another shiver.

Then his warmth is gone, leaving you cold and properly cinched into your dress for the night. His brown, almost golden, gaze inspects you with a scrutiny that has you puffing up like the world’s most self-absorbed peacock.

You really couldn’t thank him enough for his help and guidance over the week that you’ve been in Italy. You’d mentioned through the haze of jetlag that this was your first time in the country. He’d asked you what your plans were sightseeing-wise and when you had no answer for him (mostly because you didn’t want to seem as hopelessly lost as you felt) he’d promised to be your personal escort around Tuscany.

He rang true in that promise and dragged you all over the region until you were too tired to go anywhere anymore and collapsed onto the couch in the lobby. Only to wake up in your bed in your hotel room hours later to a hot tray of food on your bedside table and note to take it easy until the auction.

You were in love with him by the end of the week.

Now you’re standing in front of him, dressed to the nines and hoping he can’t see how you wobble ever so slightly in the heels you’ve adorned tonight. Though you can’t tell if that’s due to the height of them or how handsome he looks in the three-piece suit and gold embroidered blazer.

He’s guided you to his car, hand held firmly in his as you struggle down the stairs, feeling like a princess and you can’t see how this night could get any better.

Briefly, you wondered if you’d have to fake a medical emergency to get out of this. Then, a caterer walked by with a tray of the Caprese skewers and you realized you didn’t have to fake a medical emergency if you just got your hands on one of those toothpicks. Alas, you’d been stuck in conversation with a businessman, with a name you can’t remember for the life of you. Was it John, James, Tom…? Which meant no toothpick for you.

In any case, he’d mistaken your polite smile and small-talk for a gateway into discussing his “prominent” art career that boiled down to “my daddy has a lot of money for me to get high and fingerpaint and because I’ve never been told no in my life, I want you to buy a few of my works”. You decided that he was only known to you now as ‘trust-fund’.

Out of boredom, your glassy gaze takes in his well-tailored suit, the pin on his tie sporting a cross, his receding hairline, and the hands that look like they’ve never done a hard day’s work in their life. Thankfully this mental probing goes unnoticed by him, as he’s launched into his next retelling of how he painted the eiffel tower blindfolded. You really can’t take any more stories that end with his parents’ friends telling him he’s the ‘Modern Day DaVinci’.

Truly an affront to Messer Leonardo.

However, you hold your tongue because if Samuel found out you’d sent another trust fund kid into a public tantrum, he’d have Rick from Archives take your place in securing collections. And that’s something you’d never live down. You need these quarterly travel opportunities; for your sanity. But you also didn’t work as hard as you have only to be put in curator time-out until Samuel saw fit to let you return to your duties.

If you didn’t stop your thoughts from being spoken aloud, you’d have to kiss the very nice villa situated in the Tuscan countryside good-bye. And its very handsome caretaker.

Speaking of which, he’d promised to accompany you and yet, from a quick glance around the room, he’s nowhere to be found.

Ezio had ducked away almost 30 minutes ago, with a comforting brush to your lower back and a promise of returning soon with drinks on his lips. An action you were only slightly (read: very) disappointed by because you were in the middle of eagerly discussing the different types of art on display and poking fun at the misnumbered lots.

A piece seemed to be missing, with only the lot number in its display case, and your money was on an art thief stealing a painting while he was insisting that it was probably a statue that simply didn’t wish to be there and walked away on its own. The joke had you choking on your flute of champagne, only barely managing to swallow it down. Ezio offered to grab you a new one from one of the caterers and was off before you could say a word, leaving you to watch the red ribbon wrapped in his hair disappear in the crowd.

So, now you’re stuck with the world’s most boring man, wondering when you’d be able to free yourself from the bonds of this conversation.

The chime over the loudspeaker rings through the building, signifying that the guests were to move into the auction room now that the collections were ready to be sold. One last, desperate sweep over the room told you that your escort had, indeed, vanished. It left you a little miffed, but you came here for more important things than ogling over the man. With the artwork signed over to you earlier this evening, you have no other need to be here. Time to make a hasty retreat to an uber that will take you to the nearest gelato shop.

That is, until an elbow is extended in your field of vision. You glance up to the man attached to the arm and your heart deflates at the sight of trust-fund gesturing to the double doors of the auction room with his head. Waiting to see if he asks you to accompany him, you stare down at the offering. He clears his throat and wags the extended arm again, as if you couldn’t see it 6 inches from your nose.

You think of Samuel’s potential lecture and gulp before wrapping your arm through his and he tugs you through the double doors into the darkness.

~~~

Upon entering, you’re quickly ushered into a row of chairs, sandwiched between your temporary escort and a woman who you believe is working as a model. Her unblemished skin is stretched across her perfectly sculpted skull structure that makes her look particularly ghoulish, but that’s probably due to the white glow of the spotlight up front. She still makes the ghostly look work for her.

You’ve noticed that your chatty partner is uncharacteristically silent as you survey the room, but the silence is a welcome relief to you. In the absence of his prattle, you noted that the woman has a ring on her finger with the same red cross symbol that trust-fund has on his tie pin. You look between the two, noting that they haven’t acknowledged each other in the slightest.

They don’t seem to know each other. The auctioneer has been rambling for minutes now, and all attention has been on the lots. Taking advantage of everyone’s attention being elsewhere, you slowly lean forward to glance at the man escorting the model. He, too, has a cross symbol, but on a pendant around his neck. Even the security personnel posted throughout the room have the symbols on their badge.

You’re starting to feel out of place. Maybe if you can escape to the bathroom you’ll take a few “wrong” turns to the exit.

Before you know it, you’re up and out of your chair, moving to slide out of the row and towards the back of the room when a steel, bruising grip circles your wrist. A hiss of pain escapes you that you fail to smother. Turning toward trust-fund, you level him with a look that you hope conveys every emotion you’ve felt about him since politely smiling to him. Samuel’s lectures be damned.

“What the hell is your problem?” you spit, your statement packed with as much venom as you can muster in a whisper-yell.

He says nothing, only looking at you like you couldn’t be worth any of the effort he’s putting in to keeping you here. The idiotically blank look on his face is starting to piss you off. So, you do what any woman would do: stomp on his foot as hard as you can with your shiny maroon heels. As he releases you and grips his foot with a loud, pained gasp, you hope that it bruises in your march to the back doors.

Sweet blissful freedom, and delicious Italian gelato, is within your grasp as you’re in arm’s reach of the door handles. Or they would be, if the doors actually budged when you went to open them. A few curious looks were thrown your way as you tried to subtly-but-not-so-subtly lean your weight onto the wood grain.

The familiarly painful grip of trust-fund wraps around your upper-arm and wrenches you away from the doors. A distant, swirling thought comes to you of how hands that were so soft could hurt so badly. His palm is raised and ready and you duck, waiting for the blow to come.

It never does.

You peek out from under your other arm to see that his attention is fully enraptured by the lot that the auctioneer is announcing. And, now that you notice, you remember the missing lot number. The one that was just presented.

Like a magnet to metal, your gaze snaps to the stage, curious as to what’s happening.

There’s the sound of a few men grunting, the signs of a team struggling to lift something heavy. A small group of three security guards are making their way to the spotlight, lifting a chair that a man is sitting on. As the men set the chair down, the man’s torso lolls forward, but stops abruptly, as if being held back by something.

Goosebumps trail up your skin and a shiver runs down your spine.

“....is a fine specimen indeed–”

You shouldn’t be here.

“Messer Ezio Auditore. One of the only subjects to have survived the good doctor Malfatto’s experiments in the year 1494…”

They’ve changed his clothes. Thrown him into something oh so cliché and fitting of a vampire from a cheesy horror movie. And if he’d donned it himself in the comfort of his home, you probably would’ve laughed. But now there’s a bitter taste in your mouth as one of the men yanks his head back by his loose ponytail. The ropes holding his frame in place creaking with the rough action.

“...one that was promised eternal life, when imbued with the energy of the First Civilization.”

It’s a heavy confusion that has you tuning back in to the auctioneer.

“As we all know, this man, thi-this thing has been a thorn in our Order’s side for too long,” A murmur of agreement passes through the audience, nodding along with the statement. “Today is truly a special one; where we are finally rewarded with the capture of il Vampiro.”

This…can’t be real. The nodding and cheering of the crowd in the darkness of the auction room has your heart dropping to your stomach.

What the hell kind of cult have you stumbled into?

You want no part in this charade. It stopped being funny a long time ago. So, you’re back to the attempted wriggling out of trust-fund’s grasp. Although his attention has completely turned back to the stage, his grip on your arm is no less unyielding. Your struggle has him pulling you into his side, seizing your jaw and guiding your focus back to the events at the front.

Your writhing is put to a stop with his fingernails digging into your cheeks and a harsh whisper of “Stop it!” spat directly into your ear.

You’re forced to watch as a security guard hands the auctioneer a vial of red liquid and your heart stutters. You hope that’s not what you think it is, but with how this night has been going, you have a sinking feeling that you’re right.

The vial is held under Ezio’s nose for only a moment, but that’s all it takes for him to lurch forwards against his bindings. Reanimated as if he wasn’t as limp as a dead fish just moments ago. The ropes are creaking and he’s letting out a hiss, fangs glinting even from all the way across the room.

The auctioneer jolts back in alarm as the snap of Ezio’s jaws comes a little too close for comfort. His grasp on the vial is lost as the blood spills over the rim, onto Ezio, and the glass shatters on the stage.

It completes the look of a monster having just taken a bite of its prey and you hate yourself for thinking that because you shouldn’t be making that comparison.

He’s just Ezio. The kind, warm owner of the quaint villa situated in the rolling hills of Tuscany. The man who carried all your bags up the stairs to your room. The man who took you to see all the sights. The man who carried you to your room and made you dinner. The man who offered to escort you to this damned event.

But Ezio is still there, on that stage, eyes wild, covered in blood, and looking every bit like Bram Stoker’s ‘Dracula’.

“...here today for the purpose of continuing Doctor Malfatto’s work in experimenting for eternal life. We’ll start the bidding at 50 million for whoever would like to have a ‘crack’ at cracking the poor bloke open,” the auctioneer lets out a breathy laugh at his own joke and the polite chuckling of the audience makes your stomach turn. “Oh! And–”

Now he’s gesturing to the back.

And you're moving, pushed forward and tripping over the wine-colored hem of your evening gown. And oh, how ironic is it that you’re wearing such a fitting hue for this. The universe probably has something against you.

You’re still fumbling all the way up the stairs, escorted by trust-fund and his iron grip on your waist and upper arm.

“He has, very kindly, brought us a special guest that we’ll include in the lot, free of charge! She’ll do wonderfully as a food source! To ensure he stays healthy enough to endure anything!” The auctioneer is terribly excited to offer you up as a human sacrifice. Your breathing has quickened to the point that there’s black spots dancing in your vision. If it wasn’t for trust-fund’s relentless grasp, you probably would’ve met the floor by now.

Distantly, you hear bids already being made, but your gaze has slid to Ezio, now that you’re closer.

The golden-brown color of his eyes have been stained a dark, crimson red, almost as if they’d been injected with blood themselves, and his hair is falling loose from the ribbon he’d tied it in at the beginning of the evening. He’s jerking in the chair, ropes very frayed, but of no concern to the people around you. And those fangs are even more lethal looking up close than they were from afar.

“Aaand sold! For nine-hundred and fifty million euros to Mr. Laurent! Let’s have us a little demonstration before we’re finished with these two, shall we?”

It only takes a moment for trust-fund to drag you closer to Ezio. But all the convincing you gave yourself on how harmless he is seems to have vacated your brain and left nothing behind because now you’re pushing back against trust-fund to get away from the wild man in front of you. The fighting is no use and, in the blink of an eye, your face is shoved forward to meet the crimson gaze. His jerking movements have stopped at the source of food being shoved so abruptly in his face. And he’s leaning in.

Oh god he’s leaning in towards your neck.

You’re going to die here in this snooty manor in the-middle-of-nowhere Italy and it’ll be because you accidentally got caught up in some freaky cult stuff when you should’ve been in an Uber back to the villa.

“When I tell you to drop, I need you to dead weight as hard as you can. Nod if you understand.” A voice whispers into your neck, small enough that it almost goes unnoticed by you. You nod minutely. “Good. I’m sorry for what I’m about to do, mia cara.”

A stabbing pain shoots through you, from your neck to your toes as Ezio latches his mouth onto your throat. Blood rushes from the broken skin, some sliding from the side of his mouth, onto your collarbone and the bodice of your dress.

There’s the sound of someone screaming; the scratch in your throat tells you that it’s coming from you. You can’t focus on anything except the feeling of suction at your neck and, when that’s gone, when he pulls away, you’re left feeling like you ran a marathon four times over. Your muscles ache and a coldness washes over your limbs and you’re gasping for air like it’s your only purpose.

“Now!”

The lack of stability sends you careening to the floor of the stage anyways, effectively throwing trust-fund off-kilter and into Ezio’s path just as he rips himself free of the ropes. You decide to not acknowledge the feeling of more warm liquid splattering over your form. Nor do you want to make the connection of that with the sound of trust-fund’s body hitting the stage next to you with a sickening thump!

From what you can see in your hazy vision, there’s mass chaos as half of the people in the audience scurry to any exit they can find and the other half are fighting their way up to the stage to restrain the storm of vampiric fury that they’ve unleashed.

The river of warmth trailing down your neck reminds you that you’re still alive. You won’t be for long if you don’t staunch the flow of it soon. Your hands fumble with the hem of your dress, tearing two strips from it and clumsily fastening a wad of the fabric to your neck in a slightly unhinged choker. You’re definitely not getting your deposit back on this.

Sounds of fighting stop momentarily, left with only indignant yells of “Get him!” or “Quick!” from those ambushing the stage. With a grunt, the floor disappears from under you as you’re hauled up into the embrace of Ezio, carrying you bridal style as he zips with inhuman speed to an exit off to the side of the stage.

His hair is still wild as it whips around your arms that are wrapped around his neck, but his eyes are back to their usual golden-brown. And the lack of fangs poking out of his lips serves to highlight the presence of the scar across his lip. Despite his previous vampiric features, he feels warm to the touch.

It’s probably not the appropriate time to be noticing these details about him, but it’s all you can focus on in your state.

He’s running through the halls, searching for a way to the exit and jostling you every step of the way. You come to what seems to be the dead end of a hallway, backed into the corner by the rapidly approaching crowd that managed to gather their wits enough to chase after you both.

A loud crash explodes in your ears and there’s chunks of marble flying through the air and dust gathering in your lungs. Glancing quickly to your right, the marble bust next to your head seems to have spontaneously shattered. The sound of another gunshot sends the glass window behind you bursting into fractals of crystal.

Ezio turns his back to the crowd, bringing a solid hand up to shield your head and cradle it into his chest before he’s leaping through the remnants of the exploded panes of the window.

The air is crisp and freezing as it billows past you, stinging your face and arms. The blood pounding in your skull is overwhelming and you think, maybe if you tell yourself to stay awake, you won’t black out from the speed at which Ezio is moving.

You’re wrong.

~~~

There’s hands on you, gently nudging you awake after what feels like minutes. The rays of sun streaming into your face tells you otherwise.

You crack your eyelids open slowly, head throbbing at the light flooding your senses. You turn towards the movement beside you and only manage a glimpse of Ezio before a wet cloth is placed on your forehead, effectively clouding your gaze. An indignant noise bursts from your throat and you jerk upwards in the bed, the cloth landing with a wet plop into your lap.

Not a good idea. The vertigo has you gasping and the feeling of throwing up has hooked into your stomach, giving an unpleasant tug as you dry heave into the basin that’s placed in your lap. A crinkling noise vaguely registers in your brain while the muscles in your neck flex with the effort of emptying your stomach contents. Ezio must��ve bandaged the bite mark up while you were out.

Memories of the night before, or what you can assume is the night before, rush back with the dull throbbing of your wound.

You take the opportunity to try and lift your head as the towel is brought to your forehead, dabbing at the sweat there. Once Ezio is satisfied with your lack of gagging, he gently takes your hand and places it over where he’s holding the towel. Then he’s retreating with the bowl, to go wash it out, you assume.

With the absence of him in the room, you take a moment to observe your surroundings.

You’re not in your regular lodgings. By the way the room is lavishly decorated and homely, you assume that this must be where Ezio stays. There are art pieces from all over the globe from different time periods. Had last night not occurred you would’ve assumed he was just an avid collector of timeless pieces, but you know better now.

There’s a portrait situated above the fireplace, depicting a man and a woman sitting in two chairs beside each other, holding hands over the end of the chair arms. A line of three young adults are positioned behind them, all donning content smiles as they pose for the portrait. Two men and one woman. They have their arms thrown around each other, looking every bit of the ride-or-die siblings they seem to be. There’s a little boy there too, situated in the middle and sitting on the ground, playing with a feather in his hands as he smiles at the artist. The time-period is easy enough to guess with them all dressed in Renaissance fashions.

Each person pictured has an air about them that makes them unique and brings a sort of life to the painting as a whole. And in the little details, the personalities of them all shone through. It’s almost as if, behind the scenes, just beyond the frame, there’s a warm, loving family that would do anything for each other. That, maybe if you reached your hand past the frame, you’d somehow join them back in the 15th century.

The golden mantle under it has an engraving: “La famiglia Auditore”.

“That was painted by Leonardo Da Vinci.” Ezio’s suddenly by your side even though you could’ve sworn you hadn’t heard him approach and it unnerved you just a little.

You let out a breath of a laugh, expecting it to be a joke.

A small smile has graced his features, one that doesn’t necessarily reach his eyes. The pallor of his skin and dark circles around his eyes age him, but that’s not even physically possible for him. At least, you don’t think so. How accurate is vampire mythology when it comes to a 35 year old from the Italian Renaissance?

Not sure if that was a question you’d like answered in this very second, you deflect your thoughts.

“So, you and your family knew him then?” A small nod is the answer to your question and he allows for the silence he’s left to be filled with your questions.

“Are they also…” A dark look crosses his face at the lingering implication and you’re kicking yourself for asking such a dumb question. You‘ve only known this man for a week for crying out loud! “Oh my god! I’m so sorry, I did not mean to ask you that. That was so rude of me to-”

“It’s okay, mia cara. I’ve had five hundred years to get over it,” he’s trying to crack a little joke to lighten the mood and you appreciate the effort. “But no, they are not, uh, vampires like me. I am the product of many experiments gone wrong. Or, right as Malfatto would say.” He spat the name out like it burned his tongue to even speak it.

You recognized the name from the auctioneer’s spiel. Something about Ezio being one of the only surviving subjects and eternal life and an apple? There was a string of questions you were dying to know the answers to, but you didn’t know which to ask first.

And your brain helpfully supplied: “I’ve heard ‘an apple a day keeps the doctor away’, but why is this the one case where it’s done the absolute opposite?”

Stunned into silence, you want nothing more than to bury yourself beneath the covers and never come out. Ezio is staring at you, trying to properly process what you just said.

Then he’s laughing. More than laughing. Full-on guffawing and wiping tears from his eyes as he slumps down onto his knees as his torso relaxes into the mattress. Your face is burning as you clutch the covers over your face to hide from him and you wish you would wither away on the spot.

Through his fits of giggles, he waves away your defensive position.

“Please don’t be embarrassed. It’s just that I’ve never had such a positive response before.” You deflate only slightly in relief. “To answer your question, the dottore had an obsession with a device that has since been lost to this world called ‘The Apple of Eden’. It gave one many abilities that would’ve been the death of society as we know it if it fell into the wrong hands. And it’s something the Templars want to use for their ambitions. Doctor Malfatto-”

Ezio must’ve noticed the lost expression on your face because he sighed, readjusted himself into a more comfortable position on the edge of the bed, and took a gentle hold of your hands in his.

“After everything you’ve been through because of me, I will tell you everything, but only if you think you’re ready to hear it.”

The sentiment was touching, and very much appreciated. But you’ve come so far in the past evening that you’d be damned if you didn’t take the opportunity to get answers when they’re freely offered. So, you nod your head and tighten your fingers around his.

It took hours, and many breaks for food, for Ezio to explain it all to you, but you were enraptured by every second of it.

He’d started with his condition. Turns out that Bram Stoker’s ‘Dracula’ definitely held up in one aspect. Ezio did need to drink blood, human blood specifically, to gain superhuman strength. Otherwise, he’d been subsisting on animal blood, saying something about how the different cells in human and animal blood are the deciding factor on how nourishing they could be for him.

You were a little lost with the scientific explanation. But the alternative-diet explanation definitely helped sway a few worries.

He told you about the Assassins, the Templars, and the Old Civilization. He told you about the tragedy of his father and brothers. He told you about how, on what was supposed to be a simple mission to Rome, he’d been snatched off the street and had woken up, strapped to a table in the lair of Doctor Malfatto: a man notorious for killing and maiming courtesans for his own sick pleasure.

He’d told you of the horrific torture he’d been subject to (though you’re pretty sure he kept it a little more PG due to the fact that you looked like you were going to be sick all over again), things that the doctor performed on him more for fun than for experimentation. And how, after what seemed like months of torment, he’d finally achieved the unthinkable.

Until his prized possession was snatched away in a rescue led by Ezio’s uncle.

He talked about how, for years, no one noticed the changes that had subtly taken place. They chalked up his never-changing features to a form of eternal babyface. That is, until everyone got old and he hadn’t aged a day.

No one noticed his more bloodthirsty pursuit of his enemies, choosing to believe his newfound dedication had something to do with guilt over being missing for so long. Until his Uncle Mario found him on a dark, secluded rooftop, curled over a Venetian guard, blood soaking his robes and pooling around him as Ezio drank the poor man dry.

That night, years of pent up guilt, grief, and anger broke through the dam and his uncle held him as he sobbed through the night, feeling like a child again.

Mario promised that the new-found discovery would never reach his sister or his mother; or anyone else for that matter.

Then his uncle was killed and Ezio swore to avenge him and all of his family by dismantling the Templars one by one and wouldn’t stop until he’d gone through every last one of them.

Over the years, his fire for revenge had faded and morphed into caring for, and cultivating, the most beautiful pieces of history and art. Things that needed protection from the horrible things that this war in the shadows would inflict. It was a subject you found yourself resonating a lot with, and one of the things that led to you becoming a curator: to preserve the beauty in this world.

“I’m sorry for everything. You wouldn’t have been roped into this mess if I hadn’t showed up with you. Believe me that I would’ve never let you go if I knew what they were planning.” He takes your hand in his and you know that you don’t blame him for any of it. Something in you told you that you still wouldn’t have made it out of there even if you hadn’t shown up with him. With everything he’s told you about the Templars, you’re just relieved that he was there.

“I’m also sorry about this.” His other hand brushing against the bandages on your neck. “It was all I could think of to get us both out. And without it, I wouldn’t have been able to break out of those chains.”

The apology leaves your face heating up and his tracing of the gauze doesn’t lessen it. And the guilt that’s clear on his face makes your heart clench.

“...and after last night, it’s not safe for you here anymore.” That has you balking, staring in disbelief at the man before you. He’s since moved from the end of the bed to settle beside you at the head, moving to take your empty bowl of soup out of your lap.

“You’re joking, right?”

“Why would I be joking about something this serious?”

“I can’t just leave this– everything that’s happened– and everything you’ve told me– behind like I didn’t just experience something life-changing.” You adjust your positioning to face him properly and your knees knock against his, “So what, I’m supposed to go back to my job in America and pretend like this never happened?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

He’s right. What else can you do? You’re expected to be on a flight back in less than 24 hours, to a job you’ve always dreamed of having. But this? This is a once in a lifetime chance encounter. You can’t leave it behind like you hadn’t just bonded with the man, who’s running a soothing thumb over your knuckles, in a life or death situation.

“I’ll have to leave the country as well.” He continues, glancing around the space, already mentally saying goodbyes to the belongings in the room. “I won’t be away for long, but now that they know I’m in the country, it’s not safe for me here either. And I’ll…” He’s gazing wistfully off into space, but you don’t have to hear the rest of his sentence to know that he’ll be alone again.

And in that split-second, you decide.

“I’m staying.”

His eyes snap to yours. He’s about to argue with you, but you hold your palm up to silence him before he can start.

“I won’t be talked out of this. I’m going to go back to America, pack up my old life, and I’m coming back to join you, wherever you end up.” A genuine smile cracks at his lips, stretching the scar there and drawing your eyes toward it. “And besides, I’ll still be doing what I love; just with a super awesome 500-year old vampire assassin as my eternal escort.”

While it came out as a joke, the statement whispered in the stillness between you is meant more as a promise. His small breathy laugh, ghosts over you as he inspects the intention in your face.

Then there’s a hand smoothing over your cheek and cupping the back of your head before he’s pulling you into a gentle kiss that’s tinged with the promise of underlying passion. He pulls away with a content sigh, resting his forehead against yours and basking in your declaration. Your lips are tingling from the chill that’s left behind and you’re thinking the dangerous thought of I could definitely get used to that.

“I hope you’re aware of what you’re getting yourself into, mia cara.” The silky drop of his tone sends a thrill up your spine as he moves closer into your space.

“For you, mio caro, I’d get myself into much more.”

And he’s tugging you towards him again, not for the last time that night.

[teecupangel]

Found something interesting while reading contact entries in the database of AC2. It says La Volpe has violet eyes, robbed the pope, that he can see through buildings (eagle vision??) and he's thought to be immortal?

I always headcanon’ed that ‘La Volpe’ isn’t a specific person but a title that gets passed down to what amounts to be the ‘leader’ of the thieves guild.

So the name La Volpe is immortal but the man is not. The La Volpe that Ezio meets and allies with is simply the latest one to take the title.

And, considering that he is an Assassin since he was there for Ezio’s initiation, it wouldn’t be surprising if he has some form of Eagle Vision since we know Eagle Vision could be acquired thru training (or, if you’re a cheating Templar, thru the Animus)

The purple eye thing could be a rumor though but it would be fun to think that La Volpe has such an interesting unique eye color. Perhaps that may also be the reason why he wears a hood: to hide/darken his eye color.

Although, it would be interesting to make La Volpe into some kind of immortal being and…

(From AC wiki’s La Volpe article)

In Assassin's Creed: Brotherhood, La Volpe did not seem to have aged at all, and in fact, he seemed to have fewer wrinkles on his face than in Assassin's Creed II.

It would be easy to make him an Isu sage (perhaps of a ‘god’ associated with foxes, maybe?) as Isus have too distinct physical attributes for us to make him a living Isu.

Although…

So… there are some fox spirits that are well known for possessing humans and they’re usually portrayed as tricksters in lores and myths. (Cunning as a fox, as they say)

One of them is a fox spirit by the name of Da Ji who is well known for being one of the main reasons why the Shang Dynasty fell.

In folklore, probably popularized in the West thanks to the many adaptations of Fengshen Yanyi, Da Ji is a fox spirit (reincarnated as the human Da Ji or the fox spirit possessed the real Da Ji) sent by Nu Wa to destroy the Shang Dynasty on the inside because the king wrote his self-insert smut drabbles (Reader x Nu Wa) on Nu Wa’s shrine.

If we twist that lore to work with the AC lore, perhaps fox spirits are something akin to some kind of slave race created during the Isu-Human War (possessing humans to create chaos) and, in this scenario, they gained their own free will centuries after the fall of the Isu.

La Volpe’s body could be a normal human that had been possessed by one of these fox spirits who had just been interested in the Brotherhood and came to feel some kind of loyalty to it later on. Maybe his loyalty stemmed from Giovanni Auditore’s influence even or perhaps he’s a fox spirit that had been taking on bodies to continue to be La Volpe and he found himself interested in the Brotherhood as well.

Whatever the reason may be, the fox spirit that takes the name La Volpe is an ally of the Brotherhood.

… For now.

[mythuzalasheir3]

MYTH’S FIC MASTERLIST

General Spies Are Forever:

The Benefits Of Personal History- Owen Lives AU

Suffered Long Enough Or, Moving On (Together)- Torture Tango Reveal AU

Without A Clue- Soulmate AU

Torture Tango Reprise, Or The Horrors Of Staying Alive- Angsty Owen Lives AU

Remember… Remember… -Holloduke AU

Buddy, We’re Different Breeds- Werewolf! Curt and Vampire! Owen

The Downsides Of Personal History- Canon but from Owen’s perspective

The DMA Is Homophobic?!- The Kira is homophobic death note amv but Curtwen

Early Mornings- Curtwen first I Love You

King Of Hearts- Curtwen first meeting

Spies Never Die- Curt goes back for Owen AU

Bleeding Through- Post Fall Owen has identity issues

A Torn Page- SAF x House Of The Dragon Mashup AU Staircase scene

If A Spy Is A Spy And I Once Was A Spy - Curt’s journal entry before Spy Again

Always A Spy - Curt gets self reflective after retiring for real

Drowning - There was only one oxygen mask gone romantic

I’ll Find You In The Next Timeline - Roleswap!Owen meets Canon Curt

A Twist Of Fate- Roleswap AU, but Owen still joins Chimera

Tati: The Vampire Slayer AU

Tati The Vampire Slayer- Curt finds out Tatiana is the Slayer

Spies Are Literally Forever: SAF x Hatchetfield Reincarnation AU Series

One Step Ahead (It’s How Its Always Been)-Curt/Howard remembers his past life on Black Friday when confronting Wilbur/Owen

The Gang’s Back Together (For The First Time [technically])- Curt/Howard and Owen/Wilbur reunite with Tati/Emma and Becky/Barb

Feeling A Lot Of Deja Vu Again- Owen’s Afterlife

The Worm Talk- The boys are soft

The Awakening of Wilbur Cross- Wilbur remembers his past life

Washington Comes To Hatchetfield- The gang meet for coffee at Beanie’s

Don’t You Forget About Me- Owen/Wilbur wingmans a holloduke reunion (ignore how this breaks lore hahahah)

Curtwen/Woward’s Nightmare Time- Wiggly tries to get his revenge

Awake For My Funeral- Curt’s Afterlife

Going Through The Unimaginable Twice- Tati/Emma reflecting on her siblings

General Hatchetfield Fics:

Only Murders In Hatchetfield - Only Murders In The Building Mashup AU

Once More, With Blue Shit - mashup AU with the musical episode of Buffy The Vampire Slayer

I’ll Carry A Torch For Us Both (I Knew You Once Upon A Dream) - Sleeping Beauty Holloweane AU

Once Upon A Time In Hatchetfield - OUAT mashup AU

The Hatchetfield High Tarot Card Consultancy- All Our Hidden Gifts x Hatchetfield

You Will Know Our Names-Holloweane as Noah and Mio in a Xenoblade chronicles 3 AU

Unlocking Your Soul- Persona inspired Hatchetfield

And We’ll Sing It Again (In The Next Timeline)- Hadestown x Hatchetfield

The Last Of Hatchetfield (TLOUx Hatchetfield AU)

Is This The Eternal Dark Without A Dawn? (Hatchetfield x Until Dawn AU)

Spankoffski-Fosters Vs The Lords In Black Series

Video Game Fics:

Sparrow And Reaver: Road To Rule- Spreaver pirate adventure

The Legend Of Zelda: Hyrule Saviours- Ocarina of time but Malon’s the hero of time

Assassin’s Creed- Katia- lowkey self insert Ezio x Reader

Life Is Strange: Partners In Time- Max, Chloe and Rachel go back to stop the storm and hell week

Miscellaneous Fics

The Disappearance of Eudoria Holmes- Dr who x bbc sherlock x enola holmes

Coney Island Waltz- Love Never Dies Rewrite

[leofrith]

FINALLYYYY okay assassin’s creed + 1, 8, 16, 18

1. the character everyone gets wrong

answered here!

8. common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

valhalla is not the worst ac game ever, just as odyssey was not the worst ac game ever before valhalla came along, just as origins was not the worst ac game ever before odyssey, and syndicate was not the worst before origins, and unity was not the worst game before s—[GUNSHOTS]

this happens literally every time a new ac title gets released. everyone hates the newest game until a newer one comes along for people to hate even more, and then proceeds to look back on the game they previously hated with fondness a few years later. rinse and repeat forever and ever. stop expecting the new games to give you what the ezio trilogy gave you. if you want unity, then go fucking replay unity. if you want black flag, then go fucking replay black flag. if you want the original, then go fucking replay the original. stop rating the games based on what they aren't and instead, rate them based on what they are. of course, none of this is to say that people aren't entitled to their own personal preferences, but the constant complaining makes me wonder if most of these people even like ac at all and in fact, just makes you sound like an insufferable, pedantic asshole.

16. you can't understand why so many people like this thing (characterization, trope, headcanon, etc)

reader inserts. not only would I Not Fucking Say That, most of the time the subject of the reader insert also Would Not Fucking Say That. they're almost always made to be so painfully out of character in order to fit into whatever story or preconceived au is being written, to the point where i often wonder if the author even likes or cares about the character they're writing for. personally, if i'm writing a character—especially one i like— i want to make sure i'm doing them justice, which is why i cannot fathom essentially borrowing a character's face and name and nothing else for the purpose of wish fulfillment. it's feels like these authors see all these characters as being completely interchangeable with one another and it drives me fucking crazyyyy.

the only reason i can really think of for not just writing an original work at that point is that using a pre-existing character also provides a pre-existing fandom for your work. but then you're also annoying the shit out of anyone, like me, who is going into a character tag because they want to see content about the actual character, not a 5k ooc smut fic that you couldn't even bother to put under a read-more!!! i cannot stress enough how much i literally would not give a single shit what people are doing with their own free time if the proliferation of those works didn't make every single character tag (and often actor tags as well, because some people will tag every character an actor has ever played in their fics as well, which qualifies as spam btw!!) on this site completely unusable. if i ever wanted to see x reader fics i would search for them specifically, but unfortunately there's also no blanket tag for me to blacklist. so i guess i'll just keep blocking new users until i die.

(yes, i know you said specifically ac and this is a bit more general but this relates to every fandom :/)

18. it's absolutely criminal that the fandom has been sleeping on...

shut up!!!!! you know i'm gonna say leofrith. 😭 he is the It Girl he is the moment he's got everything!! he's got the kind of religious trauma that only being a christian with a martyr complex could give you. he's got dead parent trauma and a horribly one-sided relationship with his adopted father. he loves ceolbert like a son. the best friendism with hytham. he's literally a sister brother. the dog motif. he is so so deeply unwell. i know he's barely got a character arc to speak of in the game but consider: what if he did? he is everything to me i need to be able to beam the version of him that exists in my head directly into the people's brains or i'll die.

send me a number!

[salicepalico]

MASTERLIST

Ask Blog HERE

=MY WRITINGS=

Salice's Story

My OCs

A list of characters I created, their species, genders, and a little bio about them. May help you understand my characters a little.

WARNINGS: Talk of murder, and mention of p*dofiles

Out of the Bag

A JJBA AU fanfiction about a girl going to the same Highschool as Kakyoin and Jotaro. I will not finish this fanfiction, unfortunately.

WARNINGS: None

The Envelope

Salice the Palico helps meowseer Ezio aquire his target.

WARNINGS: Description of violence, and death via assassination

Requiem-34

Maki Hara is sent on a mission with the famous Leon Kennedy, however things don't really go as expected.

WARNINGS: Smut, description of violence, death via self-defense and drugs, forced drugging, and unhealthy drinking

Satisfying Hunger

A small introduction to my new character, Quinn, the succubus/incubus hybrid.

WARNINGS: Death via murder

More Than a Game

A multifandom roleplay where characters are trapped in an empty town with no idea how they got there or what they need to do to get home.

WARNINGS: Some drinking and language

Successful

Salice takes care of a wounded Ezio

WARNINGS: Mentions of blood

Free at Last

A little cat-like creature sits alone in a cage. The room is dark asides from a small crack under the wooden door. One day the door finally opens, revealing a man in a grey robe, a hood over his face. This is the story of how Salice meets Ezio.

WARNINGS: Violence, death via assassinations, and mentions of torture.

I Know What She Is

They found out what Salice is at last.

WARNINGS: Death via assassination, blood, (fatal?) injury of major character

=MY ASKS/REQUESTS=

The Collector x Reader

Written by: SlasherHaven

WARNINGS: Dub-con smut, loss of virginity, Stockholm syndrome.

Steal Your Heart

Written by: Mavrisfanfics

Ezio x theif!reader fanfiction

=MY ART=

Salice's Reference Sheet

Pinot and Lager

Rin Ito

Salice in a Cage (story attached)

Salice and Ezio

November 30, 1524

Godzilla in Monteriggioni

=NOTES=

Self-Insert Ezio Trilogy Novelization

I plan to write a novelization of the Ezio Trilogy inserting my fursona, Salice, into the plot. I will try to follow the timeline the best I can.

Salice's Timeline

A work in progress timeline. I am trying to get Salice's backstory nice and solid.

[liviethewriter]

Nightmares || Ezio x Reader

Fandom: Assassin’s Creed Type: Oneshot Requester: None Warnings: Fluff, Italian Swearing, Minor Violence, SPOILERS for Assassin’s Creed 2 Note: You gotta admit, the expressions in a lot of Assassin’s Creed games are just simply great. For example, Ezio’s expression in AC2 when his mother said, “Still recovering from last night?” And almost instantly, he feints surprise, like, “Uh, no idea what you’re talking about…” I’m laughing just thinking about it! Also, I wish to apologize for any incorrect translations. My first language is English, and I can speak some basic Japanese. Google Translate was bullied here.  Anywho, the Assassin’s Creed franchise is not mine, and rights to it go to Ubisoft. You are your own person. The only thing that is mine is the fan fiction itself. Enjoy! -Livie

All was quiet in the halls of the Villa Auditore. Moonlight spilled through the windows of the villa, illuminating the rooms it could get into. The inhabitants were sound asleep, save for one soul. A woman by the name of Y/N. 

Y/N was a traveling bookbinder, a book doctor of sorts. Most men did this job, but she was one of the few women who mended old books and bound new manuscripts together. Women were especially good at this, mainly because of their ability to skillfully use a needle with thread. Y/N loved books and her services were fairly priced. On top of that, she was pretty friendly to many clientele. 

Y/N was a close friend to Giovanni Auditore, a banker of Firenze. He had many documents and files, and she traveled through Firenze frequently. Whenever she was in town, he’d have her weave some of the books together and always paid her full price for her services. He even let her stay with his family for a few days if she were weary of travel. 

Thus, Y/N became a close friend to the Auditore family. Maria, the mother, was approving of her choice of profession, as most women around this time period flocked to a brothel or began displaying their cleavage in hopes of hooking a husband on the streets. Fredrico seemed to like her, as a friend of course. He was already promised to another woman, and she was not too keen on making enemies. Petruccio avoided Y/N, though she never understood whether it was because he was shy or if he was disliking of her. Y/N and Claudia got along fairly well, and the bookbinder often gave her advice about Duccio. She was especially upset when she found out that he was being unfaithful. 

It was the middle son, Ezio, that vexed Y/N the most. She never got too close to him, knowing he was with another woman by the name of Cristina Vespucci. But Ezio was always quick to throw Y/N that adorable, cocky grin of his. She could never tell if he was trying to flirt with her, or if he was trying to make her lighten up. He loved spending time with her. Whenever Ezio wasn’t running errands for his family or doing chores (or other unmentionable things), he was spending time with Y/N, grinning and joking around with her. 

But then the Auditore family ran into trouble. Y/N didn’t even know about it until she was passing through Firenze on a supply run, and she heard a passerby say, “I can’t believe it. Who’d have thought the Auditore family…? Mio Dio (My God).” 

Y/N felt her stomach hollow, and she grabbed the man by the shoulder and said, “Wait, what happened?” 

“You didn’t hear?” The man looked surprised. “Giovanni, Fredrico, and Petruccio Auditore da Firenze were hung yesterday for treason and conspiracy to murder.” 

Y/N let him go as he shrugged and walked away. Stumbling to an alleyway, she threw up, shaking. Giovanni and two of his sons were dead? Mio Dio, indeed. Feeling unsteady on her legs, she wiped at her mouth. Then what did that mean for Maria, Claudia, and Ezio? Were they all alright? Were they running? Did they escape? So little time, so many questions. 

And so began her search for the remanents of the Auditore family. 

Y/N didn’t find them until several months later at Villa Auditore, in Monteriggioni. She had stopped there for a few supplies. She was looking around some of the stalls for flasks and food when suddenly she was grabbed from behind and dragged into a nearby alleyway. 

Y/N struggled, about to bite the hand over her mouth. But she was suddenly turned around and met with a pair of familiar brown eyes, glittering happily in the dimness of the alleyway. The fire in her eyes quickly dissipated, recognizing the face in front of her. He had aged a bit since she had last met him, dark brown stubble lining his jaw and amplifying his handsome appearance. Y/N was definitely attracted to Ezio. 

The Auditore Assassin grinned at her. “Y/N! Mio Dio, look at you!” 

She grinned right back at him, hugging him around the neck. “Ezio!” 

Ezio laughed a little and hugged her right back, his strong embrace nearly crushing her. A surprised squeak from Y/N was all it took for him to let her go and hold her at arm’s length. “Where have you been?” Y/N asked excitedly. 

“Here. There. Everywhere,” Ezio shrugged, chuckling softly as he cocked a brow at her. 

Y/N shook her head, smiling a little. “That’s so like you, to be vague,” she commented, to which Ezio proceeded to pretend to be surprised. 

“Bellissima (Gorgeous), what ever do you mean?” Ezio asked, a hand lying across his heart. 

Y/N laughed and he grinned, chuckling along with you. Putting an arm around her, he said, “Venire (Come), Mother and Claudia will want to see you.” 

Excited at the prospect to see the Auditore family she had been searching for so long, Y/N happily went with him. As the two of them exited the alleyway, Y/N noticed the white armored outfit he was wearing. It wasn’t exactly what she’d expect Ezio to wear. No one seemed to be bothered by its peculiar style. In fact, they seemed to welcome Ezio, greeting him happily. 

A group of girls giggled and flaunted themselves invitingly as the two passed by and a dark feeling curdled in the pit of her stomach. With a stab of shock, Y/N realized the feeling was jealousy. Why was she jealous of a few brothel-born women who wore clothing that left little to the imagination? 

It definitely had something to do with the fact that she had Ezio by her side. Or maybe it had something to do with the fact that he interested her. In more ways than one. 

Curious, Y/N then decided to ask it. “So… how’re you and Cristina?” 

Ezio knew she had to have some reason for asking about his former girlfriend. With his free hand, he rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, we’re no longer a couple, if that’s what you’re asking.” 

Y/N widened her eyes, flabbergasted. “Wha-! What happened?”

Ezio looked at her, seeming a little upset. “Well, after my father and brothers… you know, I took my mother and sister here. We were about to leave for a ship to Spain, but my Uncle Mario convinced me to stay here. Since Cristina did not know if I would return or not, her father betrothed her to another man. I did nothing as I knew her father did not like me. And I did not want Cristina to be called an unfaithful puttana (whore). So…” 

Y/N frowned sympathetically. “Oh… I’m sorry, Ezio.” 

“No, non scusarti. (No, don’t apologize.) After all, I think Cristina will be happier with him.” Ezio looked forward, sighing a little as the tips of his hair brushed his cheekbones. 

Y/N always thought he had handsome features, but with the dark brown facial hair coming in, she thought he looked absolutely gorgeous. 

“Mio dolce (My sweet), you’re staring,” Ezio teased, a playful little smirking gracing his features as he looked at her from the corner of his eye. 

A light pink dusted YN’s face as she sharply looked forward, tense. Ezio laughed heartily, his brown eyes glittering in amusement. Y/N shook her head, huffing. 

Only then did she notice that they were going to the large villa ahead. Y/N went bug-eyed. “No way,” she mumbled in amazement. 

Ezio chuckled as the two reached the top of the stairs leading to the front yard. He guided her inside, grinning. “Y/N, welcome to Villa Auditore!” 

Y/N was stunned by the beauty of the recently restored Villa. It was exquisite outside. But inside was absolutely beautiful. “Stunning, sì (yes)?” Ezio asked, standing by the door as she looked around in wonder.

Y/N looked at Ezio, smiling. She was at a loss for words, so she merely nodded. 

“I can think of a few other things that are twice as stunning. One of which is smiling right at me,” Ezio chuckled at his obvious flirt. 

He looked fairly amused as the heat rushed to Y/N’s face and she looked away. 

~~~

And now here she was. It must’ve been close to midnight. Y/N was shaking, terrified. She had just woken from a gruesome nightmare that’d both horrified her and made her cry softly. 

It’d been Ezio on the gallows, not his father and brothers. She’d woken up as his screams for her to run were cut short as the trapdoor let out and the rope was drawn taut. 

Comfort. Y/N wanted comfort. She knew where Ezio’s room was thanks to Claudia giving her a tour of the entire Villa earlier that evening. Claudia had been excited to see her, but Maria was a little… out of it. Y/N had expected her to be in shock like she was. 

Shaking a little, Y/N wrapped her blanket around herself, nibbling on her lower lip as she got out of bed. She was quiet as she quietly walked down the corridors to Ezio’s room. Y/N raised her hand to knock on the door, but she hesitated, unsure if he’d even be in a good mood. 

But Y/N still wanted to be near someone. To have human contact. And she only felt close enough to Ezio to allow herself close like that. Mustering up her courage, she knocked on the door softly, before wiping her red eyes and suppressing a sniffle. 

The thought of the rope creaking as Ezio’s limp body swung from it nearly shook Y/N to tears again, but Ezio opened the door before she could break down crying again. He was only dressed in his dark trousers and a thin, white nightshirt. He instantly took note of her tear-stained face and reddened irritated eyes, and he realized what had happened without her needing to say anything. 

“Oh, amore (love), come here,” he said softly, drawing her into his embrace and cradling her head to his chest. 

Ezio pulled Y/N into the room and closed the door, having a feeling that she didn’t want to be seen in such a state. She was trembling as she held onto Ezio as if he were life itself. The Assassin held her close, kissing the top of her head and whispering sweet nothings to her soothingly.

When he heard a sniffle, he looked down to see Y/N silently crying. She was scared. And knowing this broke the Italian man’s heart a little. He had liked Y/N for quite a long time. But she was always rejecting any flirts from him, knowing he was with Cristina. But with his former girlfriend going to another man, he had no hesitation with being there for Y/N. 

Gathering her up in his arms, Ezio carried her over to the bed and let the frightened woman sit in his lap as he held her close and comforted her. Ezio knew that talking about your nightmares often helped, but he wasn’t sure that talking about a nightmare that scared Y/N this badly would help anyone but the demons haunting her. 

Ezio gently rocked her, still softly whispering in Italian. He would’ve told anyone else to just grow up. But Y/N wasn’t just anyone to him. 

It wasn’t that much longer until Ezio noticed that Y/N’s soft crying had faded to hiccups. He looked down at her, very gently moving some of her hair out of her face. Her eyes were red and irritated even more than before, and her cheeks were wet with salty tears. Her face was flushed red and her lips were moistened. 

Sitting her up a little more, Ezio cupped her cheeks in his hands and drew his thumbs across the still-damp skin. “Guardami, bella… (Look at me, beautiful…)” Ezio said softly, noticing that her eyes were looking down as she attempted to collect her thoughts.

Y/N’s chest lurched a little as she hiccupped again, but she complied and brought her eyes up to meet Ezio’s dark chocolate irises. Ezio’s gaze softened before he closed his eyes and pressed a gentle, chaste kiss to her salty lips, still wet with tears. 

Y/N froze, her eyes widening at the feeling of Ezio’s plush, slightly chapped lips. It was a feeling foreign to her. But it still made her momentarily forget about her fears. Ezio opened his eyes as the kiss ended, and said, “Are you alright now, Y/N?” 

The bookbinder nodded, her eyes a little wide at this point. Ezio nodded as well. “Bene, bene… (Good, good…)” Ezio murmured as he held her close again. 

Y/N didn’t protest as he laid down on the bed, pulling her with him. She snuggled up to him, feeling the warmth seeping through the thin white shirt he was wearing. Ezio smiled fondly at her, affection in his eyes as he pulled his red covers over himself and Y/N. “Ti amo (I love you), Y/N,” Ezio whispered softly. 

He was responded to by Y/N, who said quietly, “Ti amo anch'io (I love you too), Ezio.”

As they returned to the depths of the dream world, Ezio hoped Y/N’s nightmares would not return. He buried his face in her orange scented hair, closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep. 

[omgrachwrites]

High Adventure - Ezio Auditore

Pairing: Ezio Auditore x Reader

Summary: When you hear the news of your awful fiance's death, you travel to Tuscany to meet the man that took his life, and saved yours in return.

Warnings: fluff, angst, mentions of abuse, mentions of death

Words: 1379

Translations: Nipote - Nephew

Buon pomeriggio - Good Afternoon

A/N: So, this is just a short little something I cooked up when I was playing AC II, I am so sorry if I've butchered Ezio's character, and I'm so sorry if the Italian is wrong! Please let me know what you think please enjoy, I love you all! xxx

It was a beautiful day in Firenze, or at least that was what it looked like from the intricately designed windows of your families’ grand house. With a small sigh and a longing look, you gazed out the window at the endless blue sky. You ached for the days when you could walk the streets of the beautiful city until your heart was content. Now, you hardly had a moment to yourself, you were either with your fiancé or you were preparing from your wedding.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw your mother glance over at you with a small smile. You wondered if she knew that you had been sneaking out of the city in the early hours of the evening and returning in the morning before anyone had awoken. You needed to learn how to protect yourself, your future husband was a tyrant. But no, your mother couldn’t know, if she’d even had the smallest inkling then you would be locked in the tower until your wedding day.

“Y/N?” your father called from the hallway, startling you out of your daydream.

“Papa? Is everything alright?” you asked, getting to your feet right away.

Your father’s eyes were soft and sympathetic, and his hair was dishevelled like he’d been running his fingers through it, “no, everything is not alright. I need to speak with you.”

Your mother almost got to her feet but your father stopped her with a wave of his hand, “just Y/N and I.”

You thought it was odd but you didn’t comment on it as you followed your father out of the room. He paced up and down the length of the hallway, looking distressed before he finally glanced up at you.

“I don’t know of a kinder way to say it, but,” he hesitated, taking a deep breath, “Vieri is dead.”

Your stomach jolted and your heart leapt for joy – as awful as it sounded. You were free, you didn’t have to marry the monster who had torn your innocence from you so cruelly, “what?” you gasped, you were so shocked that somebody had managed to kill him. The Pazzi had always seemed so invincible, “who killed him?”

Your father rested a hand on your cheek, “it was Mario Auditore.”

You fought hard to keep your face neutral, Mario Auditore had been the one teaching you how to fight, Mario was the only one who knew what Vieri had done to you. You also knew that the Pazzi had killed his brother and two of his three nephews. Though, you hadn’t been training with Mario of late, he’d been much too busy with his nephew, who you’d never met.

“I’m so sorry, my darling,” your father tried to pull you into his arms but you held him back. You had to go to the villa in Tuscany.

“I’m sorry, Papa but I just need some time alone,” without waiting for an answer, you ran out of the house and into the warm sunlit streets.

You couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your lips as you ran through the streets, not giving a care about the looks you were getting from strangers. You felt free, for the first time in about a year, you felt well and truly free. You didn’t stop running until you reached the stables and with burning legs, you mounted a chestnut horse and rode all the way to Tuscany.

As you reached the villa, you all but vaulted off the horse and ran into the town, you got a lovely surprise as you walked through the town. The town was much more lively and some of the crumbling buildings had been renovated, it was clear that Mario’s nephew had helped to restore them.

As you walked through the courtyard, you nodded a greeting to one of Mario’s associates and noticed that he was speaking with a very handsome man. You found Mario in his study as usual and as soon as you saw him, you couldn’t help but call out to him.

“You did it, Mario! You killed, Vieri!” the older, weathered man smiled at you kindly as he shook his head, his eyes twinkling,

“I wish that I had delivered the final blow but I’m afraid that honour belongs to my nipote, Ezio,” he gestured at something over your shoulder.

With a raised eyebrow, you turned around and found yourself face to face with the handsome man that you had seen in the courtyard. Ezio was very handsome with warm eyes and there was a scar down his lip and you vaguely wondered how he got it.

“Buon pomeriggio,” Ezio grinned as he lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a small kiss to the top of it as he kept eye contact with you. You just knew that he was a favourite of the ladies.

“Ezio, this is Y/N Y/L/N,” Mario started, “she was intended to be Vieri de’ Pazzi’s bride.”

At once, the smile on Ezio’s face dropped and he looked down at the floor as a muscle fluttered in his jaw and you didn’t miss the deep look of guilt that flashed across his face, “I am sorry for your loss.”

With a smile, you cupped his rough jaw and he looked at you, there was some sort of wounded look in his eyes, “you killed him, thank you, you saved my life,” you whispered before you pulled him into a hug, resting your cheek against his chest, listening to the deep thump of his heart. You felt his body tense before he relaxed and he wrapped his arms around you.

Mario cleared his throat which forced you and Ezio away from each other, you gave each other sheepish smiles as Mario chuckled, “how about you show Y/N around the new and improved town?”

“Of course, Uncle,” Ezio bowed his head and offered you his arm, “shall we?” he grinned cheekily, raising an eyebrow.

You giggled as you placed your arm in Ezio’s, “lead the way.”

The blazing sun was high in the cloudless sky, casting the villa and the town in a golden light, it looked so beautiful. You were worried about who your parents were going to push you to marry but that was a worry for another day, golden afternoons shouldn’t be spent plagued with worries.

“I’m so sorry for the loss of your father and brothers, Ezio,” you sighed as you looked up at his handsome profile.

With a sigh, he ran a hand through his long dark hair before he offered you a small smile, the edges of his eyes crinkling, “thank you, I miss them very much. But, with Vieri dead my soul can rest a little easier. Though, my work is far from over in fact, it’s only just begun.”

You smiled as you could hear children playing in the distance and you could smell the growing fruit in the nearby villages, “I think you’re doing the whole world a service.”

Ezio grinned and ducked his head but you could still see his blush, “so why are you happy that Vieri is dead? Was he awful to you?”

You bit your lip as you almost felt a dark shadow settle over the both of you and you almost shuddered at the awful memories, “he was awful, as awful as you could ever imagine a man to be.”

Ezio pulled his arm from yours and rested his hand on the small of your back, rubbing his thumb in comforting circles, “I am so sorry.”

You forced a smile as you looked at the assassin, “it’s all over with now isn’t it. Though, I’m worried about who my parents will pick next for a suitor,” you sighed.

Ezio looked pensive as you passed by a giggling group of whores, “why don’t you come with me on my journey?”

You almost laughed out loud, you had hardly been out of Tuscany but you couldn’t go with a perfect stranger, no matter how much the thrill of adventure called you, “we’ve known each other for all of five minutes.”

Ezio shrugged, “just think about it, Y/N.”

“I will, I will think about it, Ezio Auditore,” you might have sounded crazy but you were ready for a high adventure.

[unprofessional-bard]

A Small Surprise

Unprofessional Bard's Masterlist

Request: Could you write a fluffy Ezio (Assassin's Creed) x Wife! Reader oneshot, where Reader finds out that she is pregnant and she surprised with Ezio by giving a knitted pair of baby booties?

Pairing: Ezio Auditore x Female!Reader

Warnings: Just fluff.

Summary: I think the request itself is pretty self explanatory 😅

Word Count: 1.365

Author's Note: Okay so I know many of you would've preferred if I wrote words like 'sweetheart' or 'my love' in Italian, but unfortunately I don't speak Italian. I mean, I speak French to some level and it could be about the same thing when it comes to masc./femininity of the words, but I don't want to confuse anyone! So I just put in an Animus text in there :")))

Enjoy!

{ File Translated From Italian }

Cool breeze, warm weather and a full moon rising over the green and yellowing fields of Florence; simple yet important things Ezio thought he'd never see again on many occasions throughout his journeys from Italia to Anatolia and back. Although the city bared bad memories for the assassin, he also had the most important and precious ones there: His whole childhood, for starters, the foundations of his family and friends...

And now, something much more.

"(Y/N)?"

No reply, you were probably asleep. He closed the door and grabbed the candle which was slowly melting down on the small table right next to the entrance, which you must've lit for him. He'd been in the city for the day, handling groceries and paying a visit to Claudia while you stayed home and did chores. Only away for hours, still in the same city, yet he had missed you like crazy. Plus, there was also the voice in the back of his head, worrying him and telling him something bad must've happened to you. After his life as an assassin and making a lot of enemies, even though they were no more, he instinctively worried.

He quietly made his way up to the second floor where your shared room was and saw lights coming from the small gap under the door. He quietly knocked on the door and entered, only to find you laying on the bed with a book in your hand.

"Ezio," You smiled and immediately put the book aside. He sighed in relief and a warm smile stretched across his lips. He walked over to you, after placing his candle on the table on his side, and placed a kiss on your forehead, before sitting down beside you and giving you a quick peck on the lips.

"I missed you," He took your hand in his and kissed the back of it, then your knuckles. His lips were soft on your skin: "I missed you a lot, my sweet."

"Me too," You smiled lazily at him. "Go, get undressed and come back to bed."

"As you wish, princess," Ezio gave you a cocky grin and got off the bed.

"Princess?" You chuckled. "I think I'm a little old for that now, love."

"What can I say?" He spoke, his voice deep. "Anything to please my queen."

You chuckled, then watched him disappear into another room connected to your bedroom and took it as the perfect opportunity to pull out the little surprise you'd been working on the whole day from under your bed. You pushed yourself down until you were laying on your back and placed the small boots on your belly. Right before he walked back in, you closed the blanket over your body until it reached your armpits and, without realising, held your breath.

"How was your day?" You heard him ask you once he walked in, he was now wearing his white shirt and pants only.

"Oh, it was good, you know," You replied nonchalantly, a big, nervous smiled on your face. "I was working on something and now it's finished."

"Hm?" He hummed curiously, then climbed into bed. "Can I see it?"

"Sure," Your voice wavered in excitement. "It's actually for you- partly. Think of it as a surprise... Lift the blanket."

A mischievous smirk stretched across Ezio's face: "Oh, well, is that why you're hiding behind the covers?"

You nodded and beamed at him. He could tell you were acting a little strange, but he assumed it was because of this surprise you had for him. Thinking of it as undergarments, Ezio leaned in to place a kiss on your lips; a soft one, which made your toes curl. Despite his age, Ezio still had the energy and enthusiasm to give you the pleasure of your life- small remnants from his youth.

"Open it," You gestured the blanket after reluctantly pulling back from his lips, biting your own as you grinned at him.

He gave you an intrigued look - he was partly on top of you, so despite his head looking right down at you, his body was pressed to your side. He then slowly removed the blankets, your eyes never leaving his face. Finally, as soon as he saw the items resting on your belly, his mischievous expression turned into an utterly shocked one. You heard a hushed gasp leave his lips and saw his brown eyes widen. Ezio let go of the breath he was holding, then gulped, sitting up as he picked up the boots: "(Y/N)..."

"Surprise..." You said, voice barely above a whisper.

He quietly studied the boots in his palms, he was shocked as if he was seeing the temple goddess -this vision or whatever it was- for the first time many years ago. He finally looked into your eyes, then gently -oh, so gently- placed a hand on your belly. He was holding his breath.

He noticed he had to make sure you knew he was absolutely thrilled and excited about the news, for your face grew worried. Before you could say anything, he leaned in for another kiss- a passionate, slow, lovely kiss that made you melt.

"How long- I mean-" Ezio tried to ask after pulling back, roses blossoming on his cheeks.

"I'm not quite sure," You confessed, relaxing at his positive reaction. "Haven't been to the midwife yet."

"We can go-? Tomorrow, how about tomorrow, hm?" He grinned unintentionally as he rubbed your belly.

"Sure, okay," You nodded and chuckled at his softened behaviour. "You're happy, right?"

"Happy?" Ezio gave you an incredulous look, his eyes glowing. Was he about to cry? "You're a true jester, my love."

You giggled and lightly slapped his shoulder as he lowered himself to lay his head on your abdomen: "You could be severely punished to degrade a queen, you know." He let out another brief laugh, then a content sigh as he hugged your frame, while you placed your fingers through his hair and started to caress it slowly: "Everything's going to be better. Better than they already were."

"Yes," He agreed. His body heat caused you to remove the blanket to the empty spot beside you. He then got up, extinguished the candles on both his and your side, then went back to lay on your belly: "Are you comfortable, like this?"

"Yes," You hummed and closed your eyes with a small smile on your lips. He laid still as you combed strands of his graying hair away from his face in a calming manner. "I love you, Ezio."

"I love you too, my sweet." He lifted your night gown until the soft skin below his face got revealed, then placed a kiss on the spot right next to your bellybutton.

Ezio was the best thing that had happened to you. You'd been friends ever since you were small children, you always had a silly little crush on him but ever since he saw Cristina, you had decided it was not worth the try- he seemed so in love... After his father and brothers were killed and he fled to Monteriggioni, you and your family were harassed for protecting and being friends with them, but you never gave him up and, when he came back, he helped all of you escape to his uncle's commune.

Interesting, how fate worked. He was gone for so long, oftentimes you thought about not being able to see him again - you didn't care if he was your lover or not at one point, you just wanted to see him alive and well. After everything that you both went through, everything he did; all the places he'd visited and the women he'd been with, even after his visit to Istanbul (that was what his friend Yusuf called the city and Ezio couldn't bring himself to use any other name, and you respected that), he still somehow ended up in your arms. You'd waited for so long, gave up hope on multiple occasions despite what Claudia always told you, but you still waited. You couldn't love anyone else like you loved Ezio Auditore.

Well, the wait proved not to be a waste of time after all.

[ridingtorohan]

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Liam."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'It's not fair.'

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

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

"I know."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The music in the other room sounds so far away.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[mavrisfanfics]

[Request] - Ezio x Thief!Reader - Steal Your Heart

Request:

Fandom: Assassin’s Creed

Pairing: Ezio Auditore x Thief!Reader

Words:904

Warnings: None, I think

Notes: I know I haven’t written in forever and I wasn’t even planning to answer the request since this blog is sort of abandoned, but I got the cute little idea and decided to stretch my writing muscles a bit.

"Excellent work!"

"Always!" You give him a smirk, proud of your work once more.

Ezio examines the relic you just handed him, and you examine him. You can't help it! He has the face of a God in your eyes, so you take every opportunity you can to appreciate the divine.

He looks at you again and your smirk softens into a more honest smile

"Your hands really are the best in the business!" He chuckles. You can't help but take the cue to tease him.

"My hands are very good at a lot of things besides stealing, you know?" You let the cue hang and hope that he grabs it. He does.

Ezio leans towards you slightly, enough to loom over you a bit but not enough to get in your personal space, giving you the chance to step back if you choose to.

"What other things are your hands good at?" He asks, flirty tone heavy on his voice. You reach for one of his hands and hold it in your grasp.

"Holding hands!"

You know it's not the answer he expects and that's why you say it. You delight yourself with his stunned expression, and you swear you see him blush just slightly. You giggle with satisfaction, happy to catch Ezio off guard, a feat few can manage.

You then drop his hand, and the flirty facade with it.

Truth be told, you're not usually this flirty, but Ezio has a way to influence people.

When you first met him, he had hired you to help him steal something from some Templar lap dog. Machiavelli had recommended you and you couldn't say no to a big bag of coin, so you accepted. You kept things strictly professional at first, but as he brought you into more and more gigs, and you worked together more often, he started to grow on you, way more than you expected. And you made sure to keep him returning by offering him the friend rate, a drink at the end of the day instead of the usual bag of coin.

However, Ezio could have any man or woman he wanted, if he so chose to. So, as your feelings developed, you tried to keep them down, since you knew you'd be rejected for sure.

But Ezio's friendly flirting got to you. And one day you started reciprocating. And it was fun! So you kept going with the friendly flirting, slipping your feelings in, masked as a joke. But they were anything but a joke to you, so you had to be careful to not let the mask slip. You had to step back.

And seeing Ezio look at you stunned, with a soft blush, sure made you feel things. You had to step back.

"Anyway, enjoy your new toy. Don't forget your payment." you passed by him, heading for the door of the assassin's hideout, and patted his shoulder, making sure to not linger your hand too long.

You hadn't walked very far from Ezio when he called you back.

"You know, I was thinking instead of going out for a drink you could come here and have dinner with me?" He asks you with his usual confidence. You raise a brow in response, intrigued at the unusual request.

"Any particular reason to change the usual plan?" Ezio chuckles at your question and slowly starts closing the distance between you again.

"I just think you deserve a better payment this time, for the successful double steal."

"Double steal?" You tilt your head, confused. Ezio is now in front of you again, but he leans in even farther towards you. This time he does get inside your personal space, but you don't flinch or step back.

"Of course! Stealing the relic and my heart in the same swipe is a feat to be celebrated!"

It takes you a while to process his words but when you do you feel your heart leap in your chest and the blood flood to your cheeks. He's still looming over you, too close but not close enough. Despite his confident attitude, you can tell he's nervous by the way his eyes jump all over your face, eagerly waiting for your reaction.

You'd usually brush off these tells as products of your imagination, but with his words bouncing inside your brain you have to wonder...

Was his friendly flirting friendly at all? Were the fleeting looks you sometimes caught him sending your way really a product of your imagination?

Did he like you back?

You now were wondering if the mask you put over your feelings had made you blind to his. You decide to take the leap of faith, and drop the mask willingly.

"You stole mine first, so I had to serve you payback somehow." You didn't say it with any of the usual playfulness, showing Ezio how serious your words were. If what he said was just another meaningless flirt, you'd just ruined whatever friendship you two had.

You tried to keep the anxiety at bay, but you soon sighed in relief when you saw Ezio's confident smirk turn into a heartfelt smile.

"It's a date then!" He stepped away from you "See you tomorrow!"

"See you tomorrow, Ezio!”

You watched him walk out of the room, shoulders high and with a rare skip to his step, before leaving the hideout yourself with the biggest grin on your face.

[assassins-and-hidden-blades]

Hogwarts!AU WIP

The Hogwarts Express, 4th Year

----------

“Move over!” You shifted in your seat, your textbook balancing on the edge of the table in the train compartment.

“I don’t know whether you’re aware, but the only extra space here is on the ceiling,” Jacob retorted, pushing against your shoulder, most likely to annoy you.

“I need to get this done! Just give me some space for five minutes.”

Edward chuckled at you. “For a Ravenclaw, you’re not as organised as you probably should be.”

“Do you want to see my Transfiguration homework?” you challenged.

“Yeah, Y/N wrote ungodly amounts on the history and use of reparifage, but God forbid she write an ingredients list for Potions,” Evie teased, squashed between the two Hufflepuffs in the compartment.

Various friends begin to chorus their condolences for you and your predicament, alongside teasing jeers of how your priorities are extremely out of whack if you left Professor’ Snape’s homework to the last minute..

“Snape won’t give me detention if you guys shut up!”

The compartment went quiet for a moment before you raised your gaze from your parchment.

“... Ezio…”

“Not a chance, Y/N.”

“But you’re the only one in my class!”

“Snape will find out.”

“I’ll change it up a bit; he’ll never know.”

“That won’t work; I did that with Evie’s homework once and he caught me out immediately; said exactly what I was thinking too! I swear he’s a mind reader,” Jacob said, conspiring with himself more than others.

“You have a tell, Jacob. You can’t lie for a chocolate frog.” Upon his sister’s retort, Jacob’s jaw dropped.

“No I don’t!”

“You literally just did it!”

Small laughs littered the compartment. “What? What’s my tell?”

You studied him, face lighting up once you saw it. “Aw, that’s a cute one! Better than having a twitching eye!”

Jacob’s frustration calmed slightly as he watched the joy wash over your face. “Well?”

You laughed. “You’re blushing. But like, extreme blushing.”

“He always goes bright red when he lies,” Evie said.

“That’s not the only reason he’s blushing.” Teasing ‘ooh’s and laughter filled the air again after Alexios’ jab.

Jacob covered his face. “Alright, alright! Let’s focus on taking the mick out of Y/N for gambling her life with Snape.”

“You are playing with fire, Y/L/N,” Altaïr said.

“Let’s have a bet." You raised an eyebrow, mischief in your features. “I’ll pay for anything you guys want during the next Hogsmeade visit IF Snape gives me detention.”

“I’ll bet.”

“I’m in.”

“Your parents are going to send so many howlers after this.”

“The chances are too likely for me to not chip in at least a bit.”

“And if you don’t get detention?”

You actually had to think for a minute, before settling on an idea that you’ve been toying with for a long time. “Okay. I’ve got something. But it’s big. I’m not expecting you guys to do it, but I want you all to at least consider it.”

The entire carriage looked at you, intrigued.

“If I don’t get detention, I want to research becoming an animagus.”

----------

Taglist:

@marshmallow--3 // @yourlocalfrenchie // @rahdaleigh // @sofiewithat /// @iceboundstar // @mythandmagik // @itseivwhore // @pink-polarfox // @missbenzayb // @alleycatbookstore // @timbreavery // @dacian-assassin // @thepalaceofmelanie // @asilverraven // @huntheimpossible // @eclectic--assassin // @thehistorynut19 // @ta-ka-shi-ma // @roki3chocoa // @fandomsfanman // @le-nottibianche // @bandit-brunsmeier // @starmoji1 // @spocktheestallion // @salty-thembo // @missingfrye // @xdeimos //

[jofie-does-things]

In which the care package comes in the form of a tall, Italian sweetheart

Pairing: Ezio Auditore x reader - Modern AU (You know the drill)

WC: 600

A/N: I’ve been feeling pretty beat up these last few days and today is the day I cracked so have some SUPER self-indulgent fluff in drabble form that I cranked out through my tears :)

Also not beta read at all so… do with that info what you will

A rhythmic knock on the door to your apartment is what pulls your brain from the loop of self doubt and frustration. A knock that simultaneously has you perking up but also wanting to burrow into the makeshift nest of blankets you’ve arranged on your bed. He couldn’t have picked a worse time to show up. You’d hate for him to see you like this: hair ratty, in your favorite set of comfort pjs, and having cried so much that your eyes feel like they’re going to cement shut.

And you know it’s him because-

“Mia cara! I know you’re in there! Your roommate texted me and I’ve brought you some things to cheer you up!” Ezio calls through the door, clearly audible to anyone within a 5-mile radius. It’s something that you’re gonna hear about later from your neighbors, but at this point, you couldn’t care less.

With quiet pads of your socks on the hardwood floors, you cross the room and set your hand on the doorknob, still debating with yourself on if you want to let him in or not. The glow of your laptop through the open door of your bedroom casts a blurry blue shine onto your hand as a fresh wave of hot tears rushes forward. And before you can debate it any further, you’re edging the door open with a sniffle. Peeking through the crack at your friend, you attempt to wipe the tears from your face before he can catch a glimpse.

In the light of the bright hallway, Ezio stands, in all his glory, with a few bags of what looks to be ingredients for pasta in one hand and balancing a tray of gas station drinks in the other. You notice that he’s wearing his souvenir California sweatshirt like the nerd he is along with some black sweatpants. He’s also giving you his award winning smile, looking as charming as ever. It makes you cringe as you desperately rearrange yourself.

“Hey Ezio, I didn’t miss a study sesh did I?” You know you didn’t, but you’re trying to keep him from noticing the tear tracks on your cheeks. He shakes his head cheerfully.

“No, but I noticed that you weren’t in class today, so I texted you, but you didn’t answer, so I texted your roommate.” You wince at that. When you’d decided to skip class this morning you do remember turning Do Not Disturb on for maximum time to wallow in your misery.

Ezio, not one for patience, continues on.

“She told me that you needed a pick me up, so I brought you a meal that I will be making, along with dessert,” he adds that part with a wink, “a drink, a fluffy blanket, and me, your favorite person.” And with that, he pushes past you into the darkness of the apartment.

You’re dumbfounded as he makes his way around the kitchen, standing there with your mouth agape as he rummages through your cupboards in search of utensils. He notices your staring, and makes an exaggerated gesture with a small “Vai!” to the blanket filled with, what you can now see is a fluffy blanket, a spa mask, and some chocolate.

There’s a heat rising to your cheeks and you thank him with a small voice, barely catching a glimpse of the small smile that crosses his face while he focuses on the pasta sauce simmering on the stove.

“It’s no problem, mia cara. I’ll do anything to see that smile on your face.”

[spicefullyyours]

alba sul mare - SpicefullyYours - Assassin’s Creed 2 [Archive of Our Own]

alba sul mare - by SpicefullyYours on ao3

Pairing: Ezio/Reader (third person pov so it can also be read with an oc in mind)

Length: 11,390 words (6 chapters so far + length varies chapter to chapter)

Rating: Mature

Chose not to use archive warnings (for now)

cover art

Summary

Forced to live off her unconventional and illegal skills, the doctor knew better than to meddle in affairs she didn’t understand — especially when it came to the man who reminded her of a life she longed to forget. But she is more like the mythical Pandora than she wants to admit; for all her inquisitiveness, he is the forbidden box, both a beautiful curiosity and a beautiful curse.

The rewrite of Crepuscolo Sul Mare. Same story, reimagined. Updates will be posted under this new name.

ao3 tags 

POV Third Person, no y/n, Reader-Insert, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Assassins vs. Templars, Internal Conflict, Family Issues, Angst and Romance, Not Beta Read, some canon divergence, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Warnings May Change, Tags May Change, reader is female, AFAB reader - Freeform, mentions of abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, more of a consideration than an attempt but still, Suicidal Thoughts/ideation (for chapter 6 only)

read on ao3 links ^ 

💖  

[latte-to-go]

BACK TO BUSINESS ✨

HELLO!

It has been a while since I have made a personal post on this blog (so, it’s probably a surprise to hear from me now). I think about two to three years ago, I made the decision to start writing on Wattpad full-time and left the Tumblr writing community. But, I have missed the community on this site and writing reader-inserts was a lot of fun for me and helped me find an escape from writing full-length novels.

So, I am back! I will begin writing reader inserts and (maybe) post a few of my stories onto this site! I will still be writing on Wattpad and, now, AO3. But, I know, for sure, I want to start writing here as well! I have gotten a couple requests over the months that I will be working on, but feel free to send me a bunch of new requests! I will not be closing my requests any time soon! I will begin posting my writing here at the start of the new year! So, between then, feel free to send me all the requests that you want!

If you check out my (old) masterlist, you can see what I have written for in the past, but I have grown out of some fandoms or have just lost inspiration for them. But, I will list below the fandoms that I am actively a part of and will accept requests from them.

Assassin's Creed Resident Evil Detroit: Become Human Uncharted The Last of Us Marvel + DC Avatar: The Last Airbender + The Legend of Korra Criminal Minds Lucifer American Horror Story The Vampire Diaries + Twilight The Walking Dead Outlander Star Wars + a lot more, but I can’t remember everything at the moment!

I can write for a whole range of emotions and situations (fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, etc!), but I am not comfortable with writing anything NSFW. I can imply it or have something lead into it, but I don’t feel comfortable with writing smut yet. Maybe, one day! But, at the moment, I do not trust my writing skills enough. I, also, do not write anything non-con or forceful. Anything considered “risky” or wrong, I probably won’t write about it. But, feel free to ask if you are confused! My inbox and DMs are always open! Anyways, it feels nice to be back on Tumblr and to be writing here again! I will start posting requests at the new year, so feel free to send in all the requests or headcannons! Whatever you guys want, I will try my best to deliver! ♡