Assassin's Creed Scenarios. How You Met.

Assassin's Creed scenarios. How you met.

Altaïr Ib'n La-Ahad.

You were running. Running as fast as you could, working as a double spy for the Assassins and Templars was a terrible job, and you knew it. After the Templars knew you work for the Assassins, they sended the whole troupe to find you, killing you because you were a traitor.

Because of you focusing to the Templars, showing their swords, spears, and their battle equipments, you tumbled, rolling iver to the front. Thinking that this might be your end. But Thank God, a man in white came forward, killing them.

You've seen him before, you saw him doing the leap of faith when the Templars came over to take over the castle.After all of the Templars were dead, he gave you a helping hand. As you got up from your feet to thank your saviour, he dissapeared, as if he was a ghost.

Thinking you were delusional, you just went of on your own. While said man in White was watching you from the Roofs, before dissapearing in the wind.

Ezio Auditore da Firenze.

Carnevale. A festival filled with music, food, masked people dancing to their hearts content. Fattening themselves with wine and food. Your Father brought you because of his 'business'- more like dragging you so you can find a court. Or a boyfriend. Mainly leaving you to talk to his colleauges, all alone, every time a man came to ask you to dance with him, you politely turned them off.

Prefering to be at home instead wearing a stuffy dress.Thinking that a walk would fix your loneliness, thinking that nothing'll happen. What happens next ? A group of drunkards came, eyeing you up and down as if they had seen the most precious gem in the world.

" 'Ello there poppet." The leader said, walking towards you. And those exact those manage to make your blood run cold, you ran, finding a way to escape. Left, right, middle fork, right, right,...You lost count on how many twists and turns you did. Hopping to loose them.Alas; you ran to a dead end.

You closed your eyes. Praying to God up there would listen to your prayers. Waiting for the blow to come. And when you opened your eyes, you saw all of the drunk men, falling one by one as if they were bricks.There, stood your saviour, a man in white. Wearing a peaked hood, his golden eyes shining in the moonlight.

He went up to you and gave you a tender kiss on your knuckles.

"Are you hurt, signorina ?" He asked, voice laced with worry and concern. You just nodded, not even a scratch was layed upon you.

"I am fine. Thank you." You said, smilling at his hooded figure. Before you could talk more, your father ran, hugging you.

"(Y/n), what happened ?! Who dares to do this to my daughter ?!- Who saved you ?" Your father asked.

"Oh, it was him- Huh ? Where did he go ?" You said, pointing towards the direction of the hooded man, he was gone. Like a Ghost.

"Bah, it does not matter. As long you are safe. I am content. Maybe I should arrange a marriage instead, huh ?" He rambled on and on, walking out.You turned to the same spot the man had dissapear, uttering a small 'Thank you' before you walked away.

Well, you may not have fun, didn't found a boyfriend, but it seems you had quite the interesting night.

Connor Kenway/ Ratonhnhaké:ton.

After nearly being mauled and eaten by bears and wolfs multiple times, you finaly had seek refuge in an abandoned village, deciding to camp for the night. After making a fire, you started to cook. Praying that it won't atract the same bear or wolfs. After a while, you hear some bushes rustling, sensing someone is in the area. Grabbing your bow and arrow, ready to fight.

"Who's there ?" You said, prepared to face anything. A pack of wolfs ? Bring it on, Bear ? Sure, why not. Redcoats?...er...maybe not.

Instead, it was just a man. Very tall, native you thought. Injured above his shoulders. Collapsing infront of you. Not knowing what to do, you just dragged him (because of his height. Making you small and helpless) to your sleeping bag, patched up his wound, and stared at the bonfire till you fall asleep.

The next morning, you found the man had gone, leaving nothing but an eagle feather in his stead and the soft winter wind behind.

Jacob Ethan Frye.

(c/n) : Country name

The Foggy atmosphere of London town washed over you after stepping out of the train. Smelling the smoky scent in the air. Being an Assassin from (c/n) really is tiresome. You were requested by the Assassin Henry Green, saying that you'll be working with two people named : The Frye twins.Though you've never met them, you heard rumors of them being really skilled. Especially hijacking cargo, Assassinating high ranked Templars such like Lucy Thorne, you also heard that they even made a group called 'The Rooks'.

After walking for quite some time, someone bumped into you."Ah, a thousand apologies." The man said politely, before walking away. You noticed that he was holding a wallet. A wallet exactly like yours.. After rummagging through your bag, finding out that your wallet was missing, you chased after the thief with lightning speed.

"Hey, Wait !" You yelled, chassing him down an alley. Before you could do anything, you were surrounded by men in red. Blighters.

"Guess I'll just kick you arses then." (Y/n) sighed, preparing to fight. After a few Blighters tumbling down, she didn't saw one sneaking up behind her. As the Blighter took out a dagger, ready to kill her, a man killed him. As (Y/n) saw a glimps of him, the mysterious man tipped up the top of his hat, as if giving her a salute and walked out of the alleyway.

"What the fuck just happened ?" (Y/n) mumbled to herself as she continued to chase down the one who stole her wallet.

Arno Victor Dorian.

(I'm making this an AU, He 'dissapeared' when he was a child after his dad died. He knew his Assassin bloodline. So basicaly, he had an ultimate comeback and saved his childhood friend, (Y/n). Èlise and Arno are NOT childhood friends in this one)

Ah, yes. Paris, also known as the city of love. Sadly, its condition has been in a..liberative state these days. Being born into noble, or your friend Èlise call it : The lucky ones. Sometimes, you don't feel lucky at all. You missed your childhood friend Arno, since he dissapeared years ago.The same concept like your parents.

Thousands had died in the wrath of Madame Guillotine, as so your parents did too a few months ago. And you remembered it like it was yesterday...

"Mom ! Dad ! Let them Go you Bastards !" a (h/c) woman can be heard, screaming and kicking. It happened in the dead of the night, where they were sleeping. Turns out, your parents had been stealing the people's money and using them. Making you involved to be Guillotined immediately.

Crying, seeing your parents' dead bodies, you could do nothing but cry. Just at the exact moment before you were guillotined, a blue hooded man slashed of the head of the guard who is carrying you, saving you, while he gave you a key to your shackles.

"This should open them. Now, let's go." He said, picking you up in bridal style and ran, a few guards chassing after you. After a few minutes of running, he puts you down in a mansion, the one that seems very familliar to you, the Dorian mansion.

"This should be a safe place to hide. Like to chat, but I need to go." He says, kissing your hand and walks away.

"Wait-" You said, making his steps falter.

"Thank you." You muttered, making him smile lightly under the hood.

"It's nothing." The hooded man said as he walks away, dissapearing. But why does he seem..famillar ?

Edward James Kenway.

(S/n) = Ship name

(Y/n) (L/n). Famous of being a pirate Captain of (S/n). With her looks, skill, and of course, being a pirate. A hefty sum of a Bounty was placed on her head. Because of that, the crew started to celebrate.

"Cheers for captain (Y/n) for having a new bounty !" One of the crew yelled.

"Next time, we should aim higher, maybe fight against El Impoluto !" Another joked. Hearing that, you just chuckled and laughed, sipping your drink. Being a pirate wasn't so bad after all. When you were a child, you live in an orphanage. Sadly, that same orphanage was burnt down to the ground by pirates. Because of that, you swear to hate pirates. But yet here you are, being one of the most nuttorious pirates in History.

After that said party lasted till night, and the crew went to bed. You stayed up awake on top of the mast. Enjoying the salty scent of the ocean. But then, you saw a ship. Thinking that it was just a merchants ship, you ignored it. After a few couple of times, you glanced back at the same ship. Turns out, it was El Impoluto. Panicked, you woke the whole crew up, preparing for battle.

"Look alive, lads ! Man the canons! Get ready, El Impoluto twelve o' clock !" You yelled. Hopping that your ship would survive her attack.-Time skip-After a while of fighting, turns out, half of your crew got killed, the others were injured. You on the other hand, were on the verge of death. (S/n) is destroyed to pieces, you wished just a clean and quick death at least.

Hopping for this to be over, you closed your eyes, embracing the darkness. But what you see before darkness consumes you, is a shadow of a man. And those words are enough to make you calmed down.

"Don't worry, lass. You'll be alright."

Shay Patrick Cormac.

(C/n) : Country Name.

You were the Templar Grandmaster of the (C/n) Rite. Famous in the both Templars and Assassins. The Templars highly respect you, the Assassins fear you. One day, you were invited to a meeting by the Grandmaster Haytham. You heard of him, said his father was the Pirate Assassin Edward Kenway.

After landing at the port, you were greeted by your escort. A man your age, his hair is tied into a pony tail, with a scar on his eyebrow, completing his already perfect looks. To be honest, his irish accent added the perfect zest to it.

"Are you my escort ?" You asked with curiosity, making him smirk and take a bow.

"Aye, it's me." He said, extending his elbow.

"Care for a walk ?" He asked.With no hesitation, you hooked your arm around him,

"Indeed I do."After sometime walking, you finally had reached the headquarters, Haytham, an old friend of yours, was standing with his usual hand-clasps-behind-his-back pose.

"(Y/n)." Haytham started, kissing your knuckles. You just laughed at this.

"Thank you for escorting me, Mr." When (Y/n) turned around, the man that escorted her was gone.

"Where did he go ?" You asked, curiosity filling you.

"Don't worry, he'll be back in a week or two." Haytham shrugged as he leads you inside.

Desmond Miles.

(f/d) : Favorite Drink.An Assassin. That's what you were. And you were tasked to find a man named Desmond Miles, you never knew what he looked like, since you didn't hear the lecture. Saying that he contains the genetic memories of great Assassins such as Ezio Auditore, Altaïr Ib'n La-Ahad, Connor Kenway, and Edward Kenway.

Though you didn't believe it, you just think that is full of bullshit.Since Desmond can be anywhere, you were tasked to find him in New York city, finding a bar where you usually go to during freshamn years, the Bad Weather. There, you see the usual Bartender, John (A/n: Idk what Desmond's fake name is (never mentioned), so I'll use John.).

"John, the usual would you ?" You said, slumping on top of one of the chairs. Sighing, you just stared at the ceiling for a couple of minutes, while John just poured in a glass of (f/d).

"Tough day ?" He asked, handing you the drink while he wiped the table clean.

"Tell me about it." You said, sipping lightly. Chatting with him is nothing but a breeze. The guy understands you, and you understand him. As if like you guys were besties ever since you came. You hanged for a few couple of hours indtead of doing what you were tasked. Sadly, clossing time came by and you had to leave.

"Chat later ?" John asked while he started to close the bar.

"Yeah." You said, leaving the place. Little did you know, that would be the last time chatting with the man named John, meeting him again as a man named Desmond Miles.

A/n : Should I add Kim Noa from AC : Forgotten Temple ? Also, I haven't seen the playthrough of Valhalla, Mirage, Odyssey, and Origins. So I don't know what Eivor, Basim, Alexios, nor Bayek act like. I also apologise if I made the characters too OOC. Been a while since I've write :')

An Unstable Atmosphere

Part 1

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

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

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

  And Shay. 

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

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

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

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

They’re in the middle of casting off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“FULL SAIL!” Someone yells.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How do I know you’ll be honest?”

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

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

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

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

“Hezekiah Needleman.” 

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

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

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

“Home.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did the Brotherhood tell you that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

thank God for Connor.

thank God for Connor.

Apocalypse!AU -- Reunion

Synopsis: Separated from his family after a coup destroyed their old settlement, Jacob spends three long months trying to find them again and bring them home, if they're still alive.

06/03/2024: I feel so bad for writing this years ago and then not posting. However, I'm glad I did, because I could read through it and see how sparse it actually was. I like this piece a lot and want to share it with you guys (proof I'm writing again! Spread the word!! Reblog!). This can be read as a standalone but there is other Apocalypse!AU content HERE, HERE, and HERE if you liked this one. It could be better, but I need sleep and a croissant (hello, priorities), and I just wanted to get something out there. Tell me what you think/if you want more/less/or you like the surprises. I surprise even myself, currently. Feedback is cool, too! Very big fan of feedback. Anyway, here you go!

Warnings: Violence, blood mention

[This is an F!Reader fic]

Word count: 3.2k (not bad, not bad)

The Complete Masterlist

----

Rubbing his eyes, Jacob crossed off another town on his map, leaning over the wooden table in his room. They were kind enough to give him a three bedroom house to reside in, despite having two and a half beds neatly made but untouched. On two of them sat a few different stuffed animals; some new, some familiar. Lily would always share her stuffed animals with Emmett, despite the older brother acting as if he didn’t need the comfort.

He stood up straight and took a sip of his now cold coffee. The mug was sat down amongst a handful of others, showing the true extent of his exhaustion. His return from an overnight supply run with Edward and Arno barely reaped any useful resources, save for some vehicle parts. No sign of anyone camping around. No sign of his family.

A knock at his front door pulled him out of his thoughts. “It’s open!” he called, sniffing to compose himself.

“Jacob?” Evie’s voice rang throughout the hallway, a thread of worry lacing her tone.

“Upstairs!” He chose to quickly knock back the rest of his coffee.

“Jacob, when was the last time you cleaned? Your living room looks like a minefield.”

“I haven’t had the time.”

Evie leaned against the doorway, concern on her features. “You’re exhausted. You need to rest.”

“I’ll rest after we… after…” He sighed. “Later. I’ll rest later.”

The older Frye twin glanced at the table -- at the map decorated with countless crosses, the coffee mugs with their corresponding ring stains. She began to gather them.

“You don’t have to--” Jacob began.

“I was talking to Altair and Kassandra. You’re going on another supply run?” She was quite to cut him off, leaving him momentarily stunned.

“Yeah, this afternoon. And you’re going on an overnight patrol.” Evie raised a brow at that. “I checked the rota.”

“You’re not going on the run.”

Jacob scoffed. “Says who?”

“Says everyone. You’re wearing yourself out -- killing yourself. And for what?”

“For them, Evie!” He was surprised at how quickly his temper flared. “Sorry.” His voice calmed immediately, returning to its original, tired state. “It was my fault in the first place.” Carding his fingers through his hair, he sighed. “I should have protected them.”

Evie’s heart stung at her brother’s demeanour. She glanced at the wedding band on Jacob’s finger, a sole reminder of their shared family. “Altair and Kassandra won’t go with you. They can handle being a man down while said man rests.” She put a hand on his shoulder, rubbing it reassuringly. “There’s no point lamenting the past; It wasn’t your fault, Jacob. We’ll get them back. Go to bed.”

“But--”

Evie gave him a look, shutting him up instantly. “Bed. Now.” She followed his gaze towards the front door. “I’ll lock it when I leave.”

Jacob watched her leave his room, leaving his door slightly ajar. Standing up, he almost tripped over his chair. He moved to his bed, where a T shirt and pyjama bottoms sat. He has been working nonstop for days, and only now realised that he barely had time to look after himself. He never changed out of his overnight patrol gear, mud-encrusted and uncomfortable. A shower would be a smart option, and one he forced himself to take.

Evie was still downstairs as Jacob emerged from the bathroom, drying his hair with a towel. His movements were less than lackluster, seeming to constantly be on the verge of giving up.

Perhaps a few hours of rest would do him some good.

He climbed into his bed for the first time in half a week, and listened to the ambient kitchen noises Evie made. Closing his eyes, Jacob tried to imagine someone else making that noise, but the movements were never quite the same. He pulled his pillow tight against him, closing his eyes. A tear still managed to escape, but Jacob had passed out before it had time to hit the pillow.

Altair and Kassandra dove for cover behind a car. “How are there so many hunters?!” She yelled.

“I don’t know! Just keep shooting!”

“Kill all three of them!” The leader of the group — standing at least ten hunters strong — commanded from across the street.

Altair and Kassandra exchanged glances, confused at the instructions. “Who else is here…?” Altair questioned, and was swiftly answered when gunshots rang out in front of them. Altair flinched against the car, trying to stay protected as he worked out what was going on. He spotted the third person the hunter was talking about fleeing towards an abandoned house, a hand pressed against her stomach. She dove inside and slammed the door shut.

“I suppose we found our answer,” Kassandra said.

“We should kill them all. We cannot let them get to that house.”

“Do you know her?” Kassandra asked, concern beginning to grow for this person.

Altair stood up and fired five shots before ducking again. “No, but she looks extremely familiar.”

That seemed to be enough for Kassandra, and she began to quickly eliminate the remaining five targets with a striking accuracy, likely fuelled by adrenaline and protectiveness. A few moments later, and they were all down.

“We should check if she’s alright. She looked injured,” Altair said, holstering his gun before jogging up to the door and knocking firmly. “Hello?! Are you alright? We want to help you! Are you hurt?”

No response.

He knocked again. “My name is Altair! This is Kassandra! We live in a settlement not too far from here. We have first aid and supplies! We can help you!”

Again, nothing.

“I’m kicking down the door! Please don’t shoot me…” and with that, Altair broke the lock on the door by booting it open. It was clear to see immediately that she had hidden upstairs, shown by the worrying trail of blood she left in her wake.

“Hello?” Altair became nervous; no response after an injury usually didn’t bode well for the injured. They followed the trail, Altair climbing each step purposely but with caution, eyes observing everything from the cracked yellow paint along the wall to the bloodstained bannister.

At the top of the stairs, the trail led into a closed door. He tested the handle; locked. He knocked politely. “Miss? We just want to help you. I’m coming in, alright?”

There were murmurings on the other side of the door, and Altair did the most efficient thing he could think of.

He kicked down the door.

Splinters flew, startled screams sounded out, and his hands automatically came up in surrender as he stood at gunpoint. The woman in question was lying prone on the floor, one hand around her crimson-stained stomach, and the other holding a shaking gun. “Don’t move.”

“We can get you help.” He persuaded calmly. “I can help you; I’m a medic.”

“What faction are you with?”

Kassandra mirrored Altair’s movements. “We didn’t know there were any factions.”

“You don’t dress like cultists… who are you?”

“We’re just survivors. Same as you.” Altair looked around, surprised to see two small figures crouching beside each other in the corner. “You’re protecting your children, we understand, but let us take you to our settlement. We have better medical equipment than here, and it’s safe there.”

“Survivors…” you let your arm with the firearm drop, hitting the wood with a thud. “Why are you here?”

“We’re searching for supplies.” Altair furrowed his brows in thought. That wasn’t the only reason they were out here. He glanced at the two children; one boy and one girl. “Where’s the father?”

“We got separated about three months back. I don’t know if…” she paused. “If he’s still alive.”

“What’s his name?”

“Jacob.”

“Jacob Frye?”

Your eyes lit up through the prevalent exhaustion. “Yes! That’s him. He’s alive? What about Evie?”

Altair rushed to your side, snapped out of his frozen state. “He’s been looking for you since you were separated. It must’ve been fated that the one time we told him to rest was the time where we found you.” He cradled the back of your head. “Lie back. Evie’s fine as well; she’s on an overnight patrol.”

You relaxed slightly, distracted by Kassandra introducing herself to your children. “You both look so much like your parents; I’m your pater’s friend. What are your names?”

“I’m Emmett!” Despite the situation, word about his father’s whereabouts must have excited him. “This is my little sister, Lily.” He grabbed her shoulders and stood behind her, wrapping her in a comforting hug. Lily held onto Emmett’s hands, looking away from Kassandra. “Is it true?! You know our father?”

Altair took some gauze and medical tape out of his backpack, beginning to pack and dress the wound. You bit your cheek to hide the pain from Emmett and Lily. “I can’t do much here without a needle and thread, but we have what we need at the settlement.” He wiped his hands on his shirt. “We need to go, now.” He wrapped your arm over his shoulders and heaved you to your feet. “Kassandra, get to the horses.” She nodded, and took the children by the hands, leaving the room first. You and Altair followed soon after.

Your knees kept buckling every few steps on the way to the front door, causing Altair to adjust accordingly. “Jacob will not be happy with us when we return with you in this state.”

You chuckled, a weariness to your tone. “I can imagine. That man has a tendency to overreact.”

“We’ll just have to beg for forgiveness this time around.”

As you and Altair limped out of the front door, Kassandra had rushed to bring the horses closer, the children both mounted on one of them already. “Okay, ready?” Altair asked, before hoisting you as best he could onto his horse, mounting behind you. Kassandra held both children in front of her, holding them tightly.

“Will Mama be okay?”

“She’ll be fine, little ones,” Kassandra comforted, though an uneasy smile rested on her face as she assessed the blood staining her friend’s hands.

“Stay as still as you can,” you told them, slumping heavily against Altair’s chest.

He urged his horse to turn back the way they came, kicking her into a gallop — sprinting as fast as she could go. Kassandra wasn’t far behind.

——

Upon arriving at the settlement, your pulse had slowed down tremendously. Your bandage (and Altair’s shirt) was almost drenched in blood, and you were slipping in and out of consciousness. Altair skidded his horse to a stop and slid off, taking you with him. He adjusted you up in his arms and carried you hurriedly into the infirmary. “Help! I need help!” A few doctors came out, and upon seeing the amount of blood, dove into action, taking you out of his arms. He looked down at himself, at the crimson soaking the cotton of his shirt, at the dried blood on his skin. A wave of nausea threatened to overcome him.

Gathering himself, he turned to move into the porch of the infirmary building, where Kassandra and the children were waiting, confused and distressed. “I’m getting Jacob,” he told her, sprinting towards the bar. It was the only place the group usually frequented; no doubt the familiarity would be a subconscious coping mechanism. The sun had dipped low under the horizon, chilling the air. Altair didn’t feel cold.

He slammed the door open with his shoulder, slamming it against the wall. The entire room fell into silence, eyes shooting to the scene. Jacob sat on a barstool, a glass of whiskey in front of him. He also snapped his gaze to Altair while pocketing his wallet.

The look on his friend’s face told him everything.

They’re here. We found them.

The blood all over him told him something else, and his blood turned to ice. “Oh, Christ.” Jacob flew off of his stool, running faster than he thought possible behind Altair.

Who was hurt? How bad is it? Are they…?

They sprinted across the street in what can only be described as the longest ten seconds of his life. Reaching the front door of the infirmary, Altair let Jacob overtake him as he threw open the porch door.

He fell to his knees when he saw his children again. “Oh…”

They ran into his arms, and he embraced them tightly. “Are you both alright? Are you hurt?” He pulled away, voice cracking with worry, even as he tried to hide it.

“No.” Emmett said, tears in his eyes. He flung his arms around his father’s neck.

Lily’s had already started falling. “I was so scared,” she whispered, clinging to his shoulder.

“It’s okay, you’re safe now. You’re alright. My gorgeous girl.” He wiped her tears and kissed her forehead, bringing her back into him. “My beautiful boy.” Emmett held him tighter. He never thought he would savour this moment again, holding his children in his arms. Waiting for a moment, he steeled himself. If neither of his children were hurt, that left one possible heartbreak.

He pulled away after a few moments. “I need to check on Mum. You two need to stay here, alright? Stay with my friends, while I go inside. I’ll be back in a minute.” He could tell that they didn’t want him to disappear so quickly, but they nodded anyway. Kassandra took them to a small play area in the corner.

Jacob moved to knock harshly on the door. “Hey! Open up! I need to see my wife!”

The door unlocked rather quickly, the doctor perhaps intimidated by the possibilities of Jacob’s tone. He barged in, freezing at the sight before him; you lying in a hospital bed, your skin tone sickened, your eyes closed. a couple of doctors busied around your wound and were checking your vitals. Two trolleys sat beside them; one of clean bandages and medical equipment, and the other held bloodstained fabric.

Jacob’s stomach dropped, filling with lead. “No…”

Rushing to the bedside, he caressed your head with one hand, and grasped your own with the other. “Y/n, God…” He didn’t need to compose himself anymore, tears spilling down his cheeks in both worry and relief. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, sosorry.”

Semi-lucid, you feebly squeezed his hand. “I found you.”

He laughed, tears brimming in his eyes. “You did.” The light mood was quickly dissipated by the way you were blinking. Slow, fatigued eyes staring slightly out of focus. “Who did this to you?” Anger bled through his gritted teeth.

“They’re dead, Jacob. Don’t chase headless chickens.”

He sighed and couldn’t help but smile at your familiar phrases. A whirlpool of emotions overwhelmed him, constantly switching between anger, devastation, and relief.

He looked up to one of the doctors. “Is she going to be okay?” His thumb caressed your cheekbone.

The doctor kept looking between you and Jacob. “We’ll take care of her.” He walked away quickly, as if fetching something.

“What? What’s that supposed to mean?!” He began to sit up, worried, but you pulled on his hand.

“Don’t, Jacob. Let him go.” Frowning, he instead pulled up a chair to sit beside your bed.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t find you sooner.” His elbows rested on the mattress, his hands enveloping yours, pressed against his forehead. “I never should have stopped.”

You brushed the tousled hair out of his eyes, smiling at his loving gaze. Concerned and guilty, but loving.

“From what I heard, you were working yourself to death. I’m glad you weren’t there; you would have panicked.”

“But… I could have prevented this.” His lips pressed against your knuckles; a constant kiss.

“You don’t know that. I’ll be fine here, but our children need somewhere to sleep and bathe.” You studied his features, keeping to yourself concerns about his own health. His eyes looked sunken, and if it wasn’t for Evie’s presence you would have been certain that he wouldn’t be eating either.

“I can’t just leave you here.” He breathed a tone of fatigued defiance.

You scoffed playfully. “I’m in the safest place in the world. Literally.”

“But what if—“

“Shhh.” You rubbed your thumb over his knuckles soothingly. “Nothing will happen. It won’t happen.”

He geared himself to leave, but paused at the last moment. Turning to you again, he opened his mouth to say something, but a tearful scoff came out instead. “I thought… I thought I’d never see my family again.” He grasped your hand tighter. “Now that you’re here, I don’t want to let you go again.”

You wiped a tear from his cheek. “We’re not going anywhere. I promise.” A wall of fatigue overcame you, and you found your eyes fluttering closed.

“Y/n?” You hummed, feeling your husband’s hand on your cheek.

“I’m resting, Jacob. I’m okay.”

He sighed, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Sleep well, my love.”

——

“Hey, have any of you seen Jacob?”

Evie found her way into the bar in the morning, having just returned from her overnight patrol. The entire squad had bagged the biggest booth that morning, conversing in relieved and content murmurs. She eyed them suspiciously. “What’s going on?”

Altair regarded her with the most emotion she’d ever seen him wear. “Go find out. He’s in the infirmary.”

“What?!” She turned on her heel and ran. What trap did he fall into this time?

She opened the infirmary door, expecting Jacob to be bandaged up and drugged on morphine (which happened more often than she would like). “Oh my God.”

Jacob was sat in a chair at your bedside, chuckling quietly at one of Emmett’s stories, his actions and facial expressions entrancing Jacob fully as he sat cross legged on the bed. Lily was playing with his hair in his lap. He held her tightly in one hand and held your hand with the other. The children snapped up at the sound of her voice.

“Aunt Evie!”

She dropped to her knees as they bolted towards her. Laughing, she kissed their heads multiple times as they collided into her arms. “Oh my God; you’re here! I missed you both so much!” She couldn’t help tears of joy breaking through. “Don’t cry, Aunt Evie,” Emmett said sadly, wiping her tears.

“They’re tears of joy, darling. I’m so happy you’re safe.”

“They’re tears of pain, really; you naughty rascals are going to drive her up the wall.”

They groaned at their father’s jokes. “No, we drive her down the wall; you’re the one who drives her up it.” Jacob was impressively stunned at Lily’s comeback, while you and Evie laughed. Suddenly, you winced, shifting uncomfortably on the bed.

Jacob’s attention was on you in an instant. “What happened?”

“Nothing, I’m okay. I laughed too hard.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Jacob raised a suspicious brow.

“I promise I’m okay.”

Seemingly satisfied, Jacob smiled softly before leaning down to kiss you ever so gently, as if you were made of porcelain. You couldn’t help but smile back; he radiated so much joy and love in this moment, it was impossible to ignore.

Emmett groaned at your and Jacob’s act. “Aunt Evie, get us out of here!”

How would an interaction between Phantom with Mr. Mission Not-possible go??

ask #3: is this your "mr. mission-not-possible"? i only read a few wiki pages for this. ill admit i dont know much (if at all) about assassin's creed, so im sorry if this isnt too accurate 😭 i tried tho, so i hope that i at least managed to draw arno somewhat-accurately

ALSO ALSO TO ALL MY FELLOW TORCHBEARER FANS GO ON TWITTER AND SEARCH 聖火の人 BECAUSE THE JAPANESE ARTISTS ARE WHERE ALL THE FANARTS ARE AT!!!! (pls im literally hyperfixating so hard rn)