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bxcketbarnes · 4 years

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Assassin-To-Be (Assassin’s Creed Syndicate AU)

Pairing: Assassin!Luke x Reader (1880's Victorian London)

Words: 7300+

Author's Note: so, a few months ago I decided to do an Assassin's Creed Syndicate AU with Luke. Cause his fake death scene in No Shame made him look like an assassin sneaking around. This is my masterpiece. I love it. I hope you do too.

A few things to cover- Templar's are a group of bad people. Starrick is the head boss of the Templar's in London and they're trying to find the Shroud. Which is a giant scarf that provides the person wearing it immortality. Blighters are a gang that works for the Templars.

You and Jack finally moved into the small apartment the two of you have been looking at since you arrived in London.

Although, since you moved here you've noticed Jack's been a bit distant. He hasn't really shown any affection towards you in almost two weeks.

You studied him for days, noticing him coming home late from work more frequently. You sometimes even stayed out late yourself, just to see if he cared. He didn't.

The curly blonde shivers as the wind smack him in the face while stepping off of the boat. His blue eyes look around the area before a sigh escapes his lips. "Here we go," he mumbles and heads towards the stone stairs that lead to the streets.

Henry Green and two other assassins, Jacob and Evie Frye, stand at the top of the stairs and watch the Australian make his way towards them.

"This is the guy?" A scruffy English voice asks and Henry looks over at Jacob.

"Yeah. This is the guy. Luke Hemmings. The best assassin in Australia. He's a key to stopping the Templars."

You were heading home from your day at Alexander Graham Bell's shop, always intrigued in watching him work. You met him during your shopping one day, literally running into him and dropping all the vegetables you had in your arms. Since then the two of you have become quite good friends, spending most of your days with him.

You wrap your shawl around your shoulders, shivering at the chilly wind as you walk down the dim streets. You made it to your apartment an hour later and you just couldn't wait to slip into bed.

"Jack! I'm home," you call out while closing the front door behind you. A woman's moan stops you in your tracks and you look towards your bedroom. "Jack?"

You walk towards the bedroom and a gasp leaves your lips upon seeing your boyfriend fucking another woman. Both of them look over at you, Jack's eyes becoming wide as he pulls away from the other woman.

"Y/N-"

"Fuck you," you mutter, feeling the tears come to your eyes as you swallow the lump in your throat. "You're such a fucking cunt I don't know why I stayed with you."

You're seething as you slap him across the face, huffing, and puffing before walking out of your apartment. You cross your arms over your chest as you make your way to the hotel that's a few blocks down the street.

You sniffle while walking down the uneven cobblestone street, being careful not to hurt yourself. You're wiping the tears off your face when a man comes out from an alley beside you.

"Hello, sweetness. Aren't you a cute little thing," his thick accent compliments and you go to move around him when his hand stops you, grabbing ahold of your wrist. "Hold on, I'm not done with you."

You begin to struggle in his grip as he tugs you into the alley before pressing you against the wall. "Please," you beg, wanting to get away from him and he laughs wickedly, one of his hands grabbing my breast. You cry out, doing everything in your power to get away from the man dressed in red. "Stop!"

Luke was running along the rooftops when he heard your voice. He stops in his tracks, skidding along the damp rooftops before heading closer towards your screams. The blonde peeks over the side, seeing a blighter try to assault you in a sexual way.

He growls a bit, growing hatred towards the man in question. Luke flicks out his hidden blade before jumping down from the roof, landing on top of the blighter.

The man lets out a groan as Luke kneels above him, his hidden blade embedded in his chest. "Scum," he whispers harshly before pulling the blade out, seeing the life drain from the blighter's eyes.

You watch with wide eyes before moving away from the wall, needing to get away from here. You end up tripping over your feet, falling to the ground and Luke looks up at you. He takes a step towards you and you pant heavily while backing away from him.

Luke puts his hands up as you continue to scurry away from him on the damp sidewalks. "Hey, hey," he mutters and crouched slightly, "I'm not gonna hurt you. I promise."

You stare up at the hooded man, your chest heaving rapidly. "W-Who are you?" You ask him as he pushes the black hood off of his head, exposing the blonde curls underneath it.

"I'm Luke. Luke Hemmings."

"You...you killed that man," you remind him and his blue eyes dart towards the now dead blighter on the ground.

He scratches the back of his head, his curls swaying in the London breeze. "Yeah, yeah. I did," Luke mumbles and rubs his hands together. "To be fair-"

"To be fair?!" You draw out, cutting him off from speaking with wide eyes. "What justification is there for killing a man?!"

The blonde sighs and looks over your facial features, noticing the terrified look in your eyes. "Yes. When he's working for a sick man and for trying to take advantage of a beautiful woman, like yourself," he explains, and your mouth parts slightly.

"Okay… you're not wrong there, I guess." You breathe out as your cheeks become a bit red.

Luke lets out a chuckle and holds out a hand for you to grab. You look up at him before darting your eyes towards his hand for a moment. "C'mon," he class and tilts his head to the side, "you can trust me."

You nod your head and grab a hold of his hand. Luke pulls you off the ground and you wipe the dirt and mud off the back of your dress the best you could.

"Thank you, Luke," you mumble and he grins, nodding his head.

"Not a problem, love. Just doing my job more or less," he shrugs and you hum in response.

"What is your job? If you don't mind me asking," you question him and Luke sighs slightly before looking around. "Wha-"

"Hold onto me," he states and your eyes widen. You try to form a sentence when Luke takes a step towards you. "If you want to know my job, you'll grab a hold of me."

You swallow thickly and nod once, reaching out to wrap your arms around his neck. Luke raises his hand in the sky and your eyes move to it when a metal wire shoots out from the gauntlet that's on his hand. A scream leaves your lips as the two of you thrust into the air, Luke's hand gripping onto you tightly.

The two of you land onto the roof and you hold your hands out to balance yourself, eyes wide as you glance down. "What the…?" You mumble and look back over at Luke, looking over the clothes he was wearing.

The trench coat has blue accents in it and seems to split into two once it goes past his ass. Under the trench coat was a navy blue vest that was tucked into his high waisted pants with a collared shirt that was slightly unbuttoned. The gauntlet on his arm shines in the moonlight as it stops just below his elbow. Even looking at him you had no idea who he was.

"I'm… I'm an assassin," he informs you while motioning towards the clothes he was wearing. You stare at him with wide eyes for what feels like the millionth time before shaking your head.

"This is crazy," you whisper to yourself and run your fingers through your hair, "t-th-there's no way you're an assassin. That's not… that's not a thing."

Luke let's out a laugh and rests his hands on his hips. "It's real. I'm standing right in front of you. There are three other assassins that are living in a train in London," he tells you and you're in utter shock.

"Wow…" you whisper and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. "So, uhm, you plan to get me down right?"

He grins widely and nods his head. "Of course. I'm not going to leave you stranded up here," he chuckles and wraps his arm around your waist again.

You grip onto his trench coat, watching him as he points his hand towards a five-foot bring wall. You try to keep in the scream, but it comes out anyway. A laugh leaves your lips afterward as the wind flows through your dark hair.

Your feet connect with the ground and you stumble a bit, grabbing a hold of him to keep my footing. "Okay, I gotta say… that's fun?" It comes out like a question and you chuckle.

Luke smiles down at you, admiring the look on your face. He found you to be really cute, the entire time you were holding onto him he couldn't stop inhaling the perfume you were wearing. You smell like flowers. He swallows thickly and places a hand on your forearm.

"Why were you out so late?" He asks in concern and the smile drops from your face.

"Uhm, my now ex-boyfriend was making love to someone else in our bed," you tell him with a frown and clear your throat. "So, I was walking towards the hotel."

The blonde nods his head, noticing your defeated look and he lands a hand on your arm. "I'm sorry you had to deal with that. He definitely doesn't deserve you from what I can tell," he mumbles and you look up at him, your eyes meeting his blue ones.

"You don't know me, though," you whisper and Luke shrugs his shoulders, dropping his hand from your arm.

"I have a knack for reading people and I can tell that you're a good person. Can I… can I walk you to the hotel? Or, would you… would you want to stay at our hideout? It's very safe. He wouldn't be able to find you," he mentions with a tilt of his head and you stare up at him in shock.

This man you just met. Who kills people for a living. Invited you to stay at the train hideout with three other assassins. You would be safer there most likely. Jack was always the type to follow after an argument. You nod your head at his offering and Luke lets out a sigh of relief, grabbing a hold of your hand before heading towards an empty carriage.

"Hop in, m'lady," he smiles and opens the carriage door for you. You giggle and curtsy before climbing into the buggy.

You hide behind Luke a bit once you get onto the train, glad to see no one in sight. "Are you sure they're going to be okay with me being here?" You ask the blonde and he looks down at you.

"Yeah, I'm sure. I mean, I don't see a problem with you staying here," he mumbles and shrugs his shoulders. You stifle a laugh, gripping his arm as he leads you through the different train cars. "You can stay in the room I'm sleeping in. I'll sleep somewhere else."

"Luke," you reach out and grab him, stopping him from leaving the room. "I-Can you stay with me?"

The blonde stares down at you as you chew on your bottom lip, not wanting to be alone in a train with skilled killers. "Yeah, yeah," he whispers and lays a comforting hand on yours. "I'll be right here."

He sits down in a chair beside the bed after taking off his trench coat, setting it on the desk. You slide onto the bed and lie down, your eyes staring up at the ceiling as you try to calm your nerves. "Luke," you whisper out one last time and you hear him hum in response, "thank you for saving me tonight."

Luckily once you passed out you slept like an absolute baby. Nothing disturbed your sleep throughout the night. Not even the sound of the train constantly running. The time was nearing seven in the morning when you woke up, stretching your arms while sitting up in the bed.

"Hell," you whisper and swing your legs over the side before getting up. You glance over at the chair to see Luke's tall frame scrunched up, heavy breaths leaving his lips as he was still sound asleep.

You smile gently, noticing how cute he looks before grabbing your things and walking out of the train car. You quietly make your way through the train, seeing that you guys are almost near the train station in The Strand.

You stop dead in your tracks as you walk by a board with a bunch of pictures tacked to it along with strings connecting to each other. You furrow your brows together, taking everything in when a hand presses against your shoulder. A scream leaves your lips as you're roughly turned around, your back now pressed against the board.

"Who are you?" A deep voice rasps out and you can feel a cool blade press against your throat.

You look up at the man, seeing a scar in his eyebrow and his striking brown eyes. "I-I… my name's Y/N!"

Loud footsteps are heard and you glance towards the train car door to see Luke standing in the doorway. "Jacob! Stop!"

A gruff leaves his lips and presses the blade harder to my throat. "Why? She could be working for him?!" He states and looks over at the blonde.

Your body shakes in fear as Luke slowly walks towards the two of you, his hands out. "She doesn't. She didn't even know we existed!" Luke informs him and Jacob looks back at you, a skeptical look in his eyes before he pulls the blade away from your throat.

"What is she even doing here? If Evie finds out-"

"If Evie finds out what?" A woman's voice cuts him off and you twist your head to the left, seeing a woman your age standing in the room. "Who's this?" She asks while her eyes are set on you before moving back to the two men.

"This is Y/N. She had a bit of a dilemma last night and I offered for her to stay here so she was safe," Luke explains and Evie nods her head, stepping towards me.

"You alright?" She asks you and you swallow, nodding your head.

"Y-Yeah, yeah. Luke… saved my life last night from a-a blighter?" You question the name you've heard him call the men who dress in red and you glance towards the curly blonde to see him nod his head. "I was heading towards a hotel since my ex-boyfriend decided to, uhm, cheat on me with someone else in our home and the blighter came out of nowhere and tried to assault me."

Evie's eyes widen a bit and she rests her hand on my shoulder. "I'm so sorry. Are you okay?" She asks and you nod your head.

"I heard her screaming and managed to kill him before he got too far," Luke pipes up and you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, the images from last night flashing through your mind.

"At least you were in the vicinity. God knows what would've happened after he was done," she comments and your heart drops in your chest, shivering at the thought of it.

The train comes to a stop and you move to glance out the window to see that you made it to The Strand train station. "I'm…" you trail off and look back at the rest of the assassin's, "I'm gonna get going. Thank you, Luke. For everything." You smile at him before moving to step off the train. You heading straight towards the stairs that lead to the street when Luke's voice yells to you.

"Y/N! Wait!" You stop your movements, glancing over your shoulder to see the blonde running up to you. "Do you… do you need help finding a new place or what's going to happen?"

Your heart flutters at his words, surprised that this gorgeous man cares about you after just meeting you last night. Or maybe that's just his job.

"I-I guess I didn't really think of that. I think I'm just going to gather up my belongings and head to that hotel. It should be safer in the daytime, yeah?" You ask him, fiddling with your fingers as his blue eyes stare into yours.

"It should be. I would go with you, but we've got stuff we need to do today," Luke mutters and you nod your head, smiling softly.

"That's fine, Luke. I'll see you around maybe?" You question with a tilt of your head, praying that he says he will.

A smile comes to his pink lips, nodding his head. "Yeah, absolutely. You'll definitely see me around Alex's place," he comments and you nod your head.

"Perfect."

You rush through the streets of the borough you live in, The Strand, running as fast as your heeled boots could take you. The train station was in sight and you're beginning to feel out of breath from running so far, so fast.

News about a shootout between the Rooks and Blighters roam the streets in almost every borough. What had you worry the most was when you heard someone mention that a man dressed in a trench coat got shot.

Luke immediately came to your mind and you dropped what you were doing to head to the train station, hoping that their train would be at the station. You were in luck to see their train just pulling in when you reached the top of the stairs. You quickly run towards the train, hopping onto it as soon as it stops.

"Y/N?" Evie's voice calls out and you look over at the woman, your chest heaving rapidly.

"Is it… is it Luke?" You ask in a whisper and she nods her head. Your heart drops into your and she motions her hand, silently telling you to follow her.

Your heart beats a million miles a minute as the two of you walk into the room Luke is resting in. You swallow thickly as your eyes lay on Luke who's barely conscious. Evie heads back out of the room, leaving the two of you alone. You fiddle with your fingers before moving a chair near the bed.

Luke's face is a bit pale and you watch as his chest slowly rises and falls. He squirms a bit before turning his head towards you. "Y/N…?" He trails off in a whisper, a groan leaving his lips as one of his hands move to his side.

You nod your head, scooting closer as you give him a sad smile. "I'm here, Luke, I'm here," you mumble and rest one of your hands on his arm, rubbing gently.

The blonde-haired assassin grabs a hold of your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. "W-What are… what are you…" Luke struggles as you watch his blue eyes roll back into his head, heavy breaths leaving his lips.

You squeeze his hand, tears dancing along your waterline as you swallow the lump in your throat. "The shootout has been roaming around the streets and ran here as fast as I could. Get some rest, Luke. I'll be here when you wake up," you inform him and lean forward to kiss his forehead.

Luke hums as you comb your fingers through his curly locks and leans into your touch. "'m glad you're here…" he mumbles before nodding off. You wipe the tears that are streaming down your cheeks while keeping a close eye on him, in case he gets any complications from the "surgery."

Footsteps were heard from behind you and you glance over your shoulder to see Jacob standing in the train car doorway. "So, you ran about twenty blocks to see if he was okay?" He asks and you blush a bit before nodding your head. "You must really care for him then."

"I do. A lot more than I ever thought I would," you mumble and look back at Luke, stroking the back of his hand with your thumb.

"He's lucky to have you. I'm actually glad he brought you here that night," Jacob compliments and you smile back at him, giggling softly. "It's nice to have you around. I know Evie likes not being the only woman, that's for sure."

It's been almost a month since Luke got shot by a Templar and you wish he would take it easy still, but he's a stubborn man. The two of you walk down the streets of Westminster and he keeps a constant lookout for Blighters or Templars roaming the streets. You can feel his arm brush against yours every so often and you can't help but blush each time he does.

You two walk past the gate, standing at the base of Big Ben and your gaze moves upwards. "Are you sure about this?" You ask Luke as he tucks you into his side. He glances down at you, a smile on his lips while his ocean blue eyes twinkle.

"Of course, why?" Luke questions and you gently place your hand over his healed wound. His eyes move to your hand and then back to your face. "Y/N, I'm fine. I promise."

You sigh and run your fingers over the spot, feeling his clothing against your fingertips. Luke's finger hooks under your jaw, lifting your head to look up at him.

"Hey," he whispers and you hum in response, your fingers gripping his vest. "I'm gonna be okay, alright? You don't have to worry about me."

"I don't have to, but I do. I care about you, Luke. More than you know…" you trail off and he smiles softly while tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

"I know how you feel, love. I care about you so much," Luke whispers while wrapping his arm around you, large hand gripping hold of your waist.

Your heart flutters in your chest as you smile up at him. You could hear his zipline go off and your eyes widen. A smirk comes to his lips as you wrap your arms around his neck, the two of you flinging into the air. You breathe heavily as you reach the top, Luke's hands gripping your hips as he helps you up.

Your breath hitches in your throat as you look at the view London gives. "Wow," you whisper and spin in a circle, taking everything in.

"Seems like maintenance broke the gate and haven't fixed it yet," Luke mentions while eyeing the open section. His fingertips drag along your lower back, his blue eyes set on you. "Be careful, okay?"

"Yeah, I will," you mumble while taking a step towards the open gate. The wind blows your hair back and you shiver a bit at the cold breeze. "This is incredible, Luke."

He chuckles from behind you and you look over your shoulder, smiling softly as his eyes are set on you. "I knew you would like it," Luke grins and you nod your head in agreement, glancing back out at the city.

Part of the building crumbles and you're too late to notice. "L-Luke!" You shriek as your foot gets caught in the rubble, your body falling through the open gate. Luke lurches forward and manages to grab your hand before you fell 315 feet.

"I got you…" he trails off, his blue eyes wide and he pulls you up. You collapse on top of him, gripping his trench coat tightly as your heart pounds in your chest. The two of you breathe heavily as your eyes meet, your faces inches from one another's. "I got you."

You close your eyes, letting out a sigh before resting your forehead against his. Luke brings a hand to your face, pushing some of your hair behind your ear. Your eyes flutter open, your breath hitching in your throat as you can see the adoration in his blue eyes.

"You're so beautiful, you know that?" He whispers and you blush, attempting to hide your face in his chest when Luke stops you from doing so.

You're almost panting as the blonde keeps you from hiding, his thumb stroking your cheekbone. The distance between your faces diminishes and your eyes flutter shut as his lips press against yours. One of your hands leaves his trench coat and combs through his hair, moving your lips against his.

Luke's hands move to your waist and grips slightly. Your heart pounds in your chest as you pull away, looking down at him. A smile comes to his lips and you slowly get off of him, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

The blonde sits up, his blue eyes looking over you for any cuts or injuries. "You okay?" He asks quietly and you chuckle, nodding your head.

"Yeah, yeah… guess I should've been more careful," you mumble and Luke laughs, getting onto his feet.

He holds out a hand and you grab onto it, Luke pulling you onto your feet as well. "I'd say I told you so, but I'll let it slide this time," he smiles softly and you giggle, wrapping your arms around his waist.

"Thank you," you mumble, resting your head on his chest. Luke kisses your head, his large hands resting on your back.

"It's no problem, Y/N/N. Can't have you dying on me. I like having you around," he tells you and you pick your head up, looking up at him. You melt at the dimpled smile on his face and he takes one of his hands to move some of your hair from your face.

You smile softly and fiddle with his trench coat. "I like being around you as well, Luke," you grin, and the blonde wraps his arms around you again, holding you against his chest.

"C'mon, let's get going," Luke mentions and you nod your head against his chest before pulling away from him.

"Why do I have to go to this ball?" You ask Evie as she fastens the buttons on the back of your dress.

"Because we feel that we'll need an extra pair of eyes," she states before pulling her hands away from you. You look at her through the mirror, running your hands down the Bordeaux-colored dress. "Plus, Luke's been training you right? So if we're in trouble we're going to need your help."

You nod your head at your words as you feel a bit nervous about actually having to fight someone who would kill you. A knock on your bedroom door snaps you from your thoughts, glancing towards the wooden object to see Luke standing in the doorway.

Your breath hitches in his throat as you take a good look at him. He wore a striking white waistcoat with a burgundy-colored undershirt, black slacks along with the same colored pumps, finishing it off with a black tailcoat. You can feel your hands becoming sweaty as Evie leaves the room, giving you a wink on her way out.

Luke's blue eyes dance over your outfit, really taking in how breathtaking you look. The dark color really complimented your skin tone. "You look stunning," he breathes out and takes a step towards you.

You fiddle with your hair and tuck some of the strays behind your ear. "You really think so? I've never… I've never been in such a fancy dress before," you chuckle softly and Luke smiles down at you.

"You definitely should more often. I'll have to get you some-"

"Luke! No, no. You're not going to get me anything. When I can afford it, I'll buy some," you cut him off and res one of your hands on his forearms. "At least, for now, I own this."

He nods his head, giving you a small smile as his hands gently grip your arms as well. "Okay, okay. So, I have something for you to keep hidden," Luke informs you and releases your arms. You do the same, watching him diligently as he pulls out a medium-sized dagger. "I want you to, uhm, slip this in your garter."

You laugh softly as you listened to him choke out that sentence. Luke clears his throat as his cheeks turn pink. "Why are you so flustered, Lukey?" You grin teasingly while taking the dagger from him before hiking up the skirt of your dress.

His blue eyes go wide, finding it hard to look away as you fasten the knife in your garter, positioning it in a way where it won't cut you. "Fucking hell…" Luke trails off and looks away from you.

You fix the skirt before glancing back towards Luke, seeing him scratching the back of his head. "How were you so confident kissing me on Big Ben but can't look at me now?" You ask with a tilt of your head.

"I-Because it's not right? I was just taught to treat a lady with respect," he mumbles while fiddling with his fingers. "Don't get me wrong i-it's nice to see you're so comfortable with me. I just… I'm just not used to this I guess?"

You're in awe as you look at Luke, watching him continue to fiddle with his fingers. "That's the sweetest thing someone's ever said to me," you whisper and Luke raises an eyebrow and mutters "really". You nod your head, grinning ear to ear as you take a step towards him.

Luke reaches for your hand, his blue eyes cast down to look at it before lifting it up, pressing his lips to the back of it. "I never would've thought I'd find love while being here," he confesses and the butterflies in your stomach begin to soar.

"I'd never thought I'd find love after what happened with Jack," you tell him and Luke hums, rubbing his thumb against the back of my hand. "Especially with an assassin."

Luke let's out a laugh and shakes his head, dropping your hand. "You're on your way of becoming one as well, sweetheart," he grins and you giggle, shrugging your shoulders.

"Are you guys done?" Jacob yells from the other room and both you and Luke glance towards the open bedroom door. "We're going to be late if you two keep jabbing on."

You bite your lip, glancing back at Luke as he lets out a sigh. "C'mon, we can "flirt" in the carriage," you giggle and grab his hand, beginning to lead him out of the room when he stops you.

Luke spins you around before pressing his lips to yours. Your eyes widen, one of your hands gripping his forearm. It only takes a couple of seconds for your eyes to flutter shut, proceeding to kiss him back. The blonde's hands rest on your waist, feeling him squeeze slightly through the dress.

"If anything happens. Come to me. I really don't want to put you in any danger," he whispers against your lips and you feel his forehead resting on yours. "Promise me you'll come to me if something happens."

You nod your head, a deep sigh coming from your nose as you inhale his scent. "I promise, Luke."

You and Luke walk into the courtyard together, the twins walking in front of the two of you as your nerves are rocketing through the roof. A hand slips itself into yours and you glance up at the blonde, his blue eyes already looking down at you.

"It's gonna be okay, alright?" He whispers and you nod your head, letting out a breath. “Do you want me to get you a drink?”

You shake your head, dropping your hand from him before placing it on his chest. “No, no. It’s fine, Luke. You’ve got stuff to do,” you reassure him and he nods his head.

“Don’t forget,” Luke starts and grabs your hand, bringing it to his lips. “If you need me, find me. I don’t care if I’m in the middle of something. Find me.”

You giggle, smiling up at the blonde as you mutter an alright before leaning on your toes to press a short kiss to his lips. Luke’s hands rest on the sides of your arms, his thumbs stroking the skin gently. The smile on your lips widens when you pull away from him, seeing his lips pursed still.

“You are going to be the death of me,” he whispers and you let out a chuckle, fiddling with his tailcoat.

“Go help save the country, handsome,” you tell him and he nods his head, leaning down to press one more kiss to your lips before walking away from you. You sigh happily and bring your fingers up to your lips, the feeling of his lingering.

You watch the people dance from the terrace railing, tapping your foot to the beat of the music that's being played. You smile softly, watching the couple's dance close to one another. It would be so nice to dance. I don't really know how to dance though.

"Would you like to dance, m'lady?" Luke's Australian voice asks from behind you and you glance over your shoulder, eyes wide.

"Luke," you giggle and he takes your hand in his, "I thought you were supposed to be doing something?"

He smiles softly and you set your drink onto the table as the blonde leads you towards the other people dancing. "Jacob's taking care of it. I'm just here in case something goes wrong, as are you," Luke states while placing a hand to your waist.

You smile softly as the two of you dance to music. The two of you stare at each other in admiration, your fingers intertwining with his as the other rests on his shoulder. "I never would've thought I'd be here right now. With you," you whisper and Luke chuckles softly, nodding his head.

"Yeah, I agree. I mean I probably would've ended up here since it's my job, but I never thought I'd be dancing with the girl I fancy," he states and your heart flutters, still in awe after hearing it a second time. "On a more serious note… you think you'd want to train to become an assassin after all of this?"

You look up at him with wide eyes, halting your movements and he stumbles a bit. His blonde curls bounce a bit as he regains his footing. "Are… are you serious?" You ask and Luke grins ear to ear, nodding his head.

"Absolutely, sweetheart."

"Holy shit…" you trail off and Luke chuckles, tucking some hair behind his ear. "I- Yeah, that would be awesome!"

He smiles softly before dipping down, pressing his pink lips against yours. You couldn't help but smile into the kiss, your fingers going into his hair when you felt a pair of eyes on you. You pull away from Luke, glancing to your left and your breath hitches in your throat at the man who's staring at the two of you from afar.

W-What is he doing here? And why's he wearing Templar gear?

Luke notices something in the corner of his eye and glances up at the building, seeing Jacob on the roof as the other assassin raises his hand. He nods his head before looking back down at you. "Sweetheart," he starts but stops as he detects the fear on your face. "What's wrong?"

"Jack's here," you whisper, tearing your eyes away from your ex to look up at Luke.

"What?! Where?" He asks while looking around. You grab his chin, turning his face in the direction your ex is standing as he chats with another Templar.

"There."

He curses softly, his large hands running up your arms. "Okay, I need to go help Jacob, uhm," Luke pauses and turns his attention to you, "stay out of sight from him. Do anything you can to not let him near you."

You nod your head, swallowing the lump in your throat. Luke caresses your cheek before kissing it softly. "Be safe," you mumble as he begins to walk away. He smiles softly, nodding his head as his heart pounds in his chest as he looks you over.

"I will. Same goes to you."

The last thing you expected was to find your ex-boyfriend at the ball, walking around proudly in his Templar uniform. You did your best to stay away from him, but you started to worry about Luke, Jacob, and Evie when they haven't come back yet and it's been over an hour and a half since they left.

You chew on your nails when looking out towards the trees and begin to panic when you feel Jack's eyes on you. You quickly take a glance his way to see him and another Templar eyeing you while your ex points in your direction. You start to walk away from them and head out towards the ruins, keeping a lookout through the corner of your eye. When the two men began to follow is when you went into full-blown panic, walking a bit faster towards where Luke is.

You hike your dress up a bit, closing the distance between you and the ruins. You glance back once more to just see Jack following you still and when a smirk forms on his lip is when you decide to break out into a sprint.

You were running through the grounds of the Palace, breathing heavily as you continue to hear his heavy footsteps running behind you. "C'mon, Y/N, stop running from me," he calls out from behind you and your heart pounds in your chest. You trip over a rock, catching yourself before you fall over.

You can see Luke standing about 100 yards in front of you, fighting a few Templars that are guarding the opening to the ruins. A grunt leaves your lips as Jack tackles you to the ground. You end up flipping over, trying to kick him off of you when he lands a punch to your ribs. A yelp leaves your lips, pressing your hands to his chest before kicking his kidney.

"Get off of me!" You yell and kick him in the kidney once more. You flip onto your stomach and your eyes meet Luke's for a second when a sharp pain travels up your back.

A scream leaves your lips as you feel Jack pull the knife from your back before flipping you over. Luke lets out a gasp as he watches the Templar straddle your chest. "Y/N!" The blonde yells and assassinates both of the men beside him.

"It's such a shame that you have to die," Jack tsks as you did everything you could to get him off of you. The knife he's holding almost pierces through your chest when Jack was tackled off of you.

You gasp and since as you lean on your left hand, watching Luke shove his blade into your ex-boyfriend's chest. A surge of pain shoots up your back and a shriek leaves you lips, falling back onto the grass. "L-Luke!" You call out and the blonde glances over his shoulder, seeing you arch your back off the ground and your chest heaving.

Luke rushes over to you and lifts you off the ground. "C'mon," he starts and wraps an arm around your waist. You let out a grunt, gripping onto his trench coat as the two of you trudge towards the main gate. "We need to get you to Miss Nightingale."

"B-But the shroud…" you trail off, feeling yourself getting weaker as Luke hushes you. You almost trip as you get closer to the exit, a cry leaving your lips.

"Jacob and Evie will take care of it. I'm not losing you," the blonde assassin states before stopping, lifting you completely in his arms as he carries you bridal style towards an empty carriage.

You smile as you watch your little girl run around the living room of Luke’s home. The blonde curls on her head bouncing as giggles. Evelyn picks up one of her toys, shaking it in her tiny hands before tumbling back towards you. “Hi, baby girl,” you grin and pick her up from her spot. “Wanna go find daddy?”

She lets out a squeal, clapping her hands together as the two of you head further into the house. You walk into the kitchen to see your husband cooking lunch, the smell of the beef he’s sauteing starts to make you hungry. “Hi, loves,” Luke greets and peers over his shoulder. You smile at him, walking up to him and pressing a kiss to his cheek. Luke bends down to kiss your lips before moving his attention to his daughter. “Hi, Eve!”

Evelyn smiles at the blonde, reaching out to him and Luke pulls away from the stove as you hand her to him. You continue making the beef patties that are in the pan while Luke places a kiss all over Evelyn’s face, her squeals echoing off the walls of the kitchen. You pull the pan off the burner when they were done, setting the two and a half patties onto a plate. “Luke, can you get the highchair for her?” You ask and he nods his head, walking into the other room with her in his arms.

You cut up the half patty, making it small enough for Eve to eat when a knock on the front door reaches your ears. “Sweetheart, can you get that?” Luke calls out.

“Yeah!” You answer and place the fork and knife down before walking towards the door. You open the door to see three men standing on the porch, all dressed up in Assassin gear. They look at you confused as you give them a smile. “Luke! I think it’s for you.”

Your blonde husband talks nonsense to your daughter while walking towards you. “Who is-” Luke starts but cuts himself off as his blue eyes catch sight of his three friends. “Guys, hey! What are you doing here?”

The brunette scratches his neck and chuckles, “well, we heard you were back in town and decided to stop by. You know… since it’s been a decade since we’ve seen you,” he explains and the smile on his lips falls.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I meant to send letters but the job in London took up a lot of my time and then I was training her afterward,” Luke mumbles and glances down at you. “Uh, Y/N, these are my fellow assassin friends, Calum, Michael, and Ashton. Guys, this is my wife Y/N and our child, Evelyn.”

You give the three men a small wave and they do the same. “Do you guys wanna come in? We just made lunch and if you’re hungry I can cook up a few more,” you smile, and the other blonde grins.

“I don’t know about Ashton or Cal, but I could eat,” Michael states and walks into the house. You let out a chuckle as he and Luke head back into the kitchen. You motion for the other two to come in and you close the door after they come inside.

“It’s nice to finally meet you guys. Luke talked about you all a lot,” you smile and Calum smiles down at you.

“Of course he did. I only wish we knew about you,” he states while the three of you head into the kitchen to see Luke already cooking the other patties as Evelyn sits in her highchair.

“Well, there’s no time like the present,” you grin and sit in the chair beside your little girl, your heart fluttering at the scene in front of you. You never thought this was the future you were going to bestow and you were not complaining. I love my little family.

Taglist: @galcalirwin @sexgodashton @frontmanash @philthepegacorn @talkfastromance4 @mysticalhood @myloverboyash @maluminspace @h0tsos @itsasadfishworld @tea4sykes @gigglyirwin @thebookamongmen @bloodmoonashton @here-for-the-uproars @g-l-pierce @abb-lan-5sos

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nemo-of-house-hamartia · 5 months

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Ok, now that the festivities are over (at least for me) I feel my brain tingling and bubbling with need to immerse back into my VtM!AU and with the need to write/draw something Jacob/Dottie for that AU. and I want to write something down, but I don't know which vibe to follow tbh.

#Nemo babbles #VtM!AU #Jacob Frye #Dorothea Starrick #the festivities have kinda swayed me away from my hyperfocus #so I need to get back into it #so if you are so kind as to entertain me with your opinion #I would appreciate that #:)

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nemo-in-wonderland · 9 months

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After I am done with this artwork, I will take a vacation BECAUE DEAR GODS. I AM NOT USED TO DRAW *looks at WIP and counts* 11 human figures in the same artwork!

GRANTED, ALL 11 FIGURES ARE THE SAME 2 PEOPLE AND I KNOW HOW TO DRAW THEM BY HEART.

BUT STILL.

Honestly, I am so invested in this. Like, this *particular* AU was one of the first I wrote when I started to expand with Jacob and Dottie back in 2020, so now that I can draw better than 3 years ago, I NEED TO DRAW THIS. I NEED.

HERE, HAVE ANOTHER SMALL PREVIEW. THE LAST ONE. I WILL LEAVE THE ANGSTY PART FOR THE FINAL REVEAL. (honestly, I might color the whole artwork like this once I am done, I kinda like it. we will see how I feel lololol)

#Nemo Sketches #Assassin's Creed Syndicate #Doroteha Starrick #Jacob Frye #my AU #my OCs #WIPS #honestly I would love to do a streaming #but my internet is not the best #and I kinda want to leave the rest of the artwork for when I am done #PLUS #if I were to do it I would have the same two songs going on repeat because they are the one that are getting me going

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chika-the-terrible · 2 years

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*slides more Isu AU stuff onto Tumblr*

Note: Still haven’t played Unity yet, so if I get Arno’s characterization wrong, I apologize.

Henry’s the one to introduce the hidden blade to Jacob and Evie, who see its uses and quickly adopt it for themselves. Now you have two trigger-happy Isu with hidden blades…

It’s an accident when the Alhambra burns down. No one’s really sure how it started but a fire quickly consumes the building, leaving only a skeleton of burnt wood. Everyone gets out…or, at least, that’s the first thought. But after a headcount, they realize, somehow, that Jacob is missing. He was in the Alhambra before the fire, where did he go? And so the humans are kinda panicking and scared and nobody wants to tell Roth that Jacob’s missing (since he was actually on an errand when the fire happened) and they search the remains of the theater

They eventually find Jacob unconscious and trapped in a relatively unburnt part of the theater, having been pinned down by some fallen timbers and unable to escape. The most he has is just some burnt clothes and burn marks on his back, but he’s relatively fine…except for his wheezing. He’s unconscious and wheezing and things do not look good and they do their best to get Jacob to a hospital and are definitely cringing at the thought of telling Roth that Jacob’s injured

Florence Nightingale is the one that ends up taking care of Jacob until they can figure out what to do next. He’s Isu, even if he looks human, so they’re wary about what they put into him (at least Florence is) and they send a message to the Isu asking for help (since this is set after Evie goes with Henry to India and so is not available). As it is, Florence does her best to treat Jacob for burns and smoke inhalation, but he’s still not waking up, which is a big problem

Alexander Graham Bell ends up being the guy who has to send the message over the telegraph (which, to the Isu, is really primitive but they have to work with what the humans have) and also ends up being the guy who has to meet the Isu who come to help and he’s equal parts afraid and fascinated by the Isu. Arno, the one chosen to go see Jacob, isn’t really sure about Bell at first but eventually eases up. Bell’s curiosity reminds him of his own, when he was younger, and so he kinda gives Bell a few tips for research to keep the human’s curiosity going

As it turns out, Arno is the closest and so he’s the one who gets sent to help out Jacob. He’s one of the younger Isu and so he’s been having a hard time figuring himself out, especially as an ambassador, and so he’s nervous about going to London to see Jacob, but he goes along anyway. Jacob needs help, and while Arno’s never met him, Isu have to stick together, don’t they? And while Arno is still awkward, he soon finds a place amongst Jacob’s friends and eventually gets comfortable for the first time since leaving his home in Xanadu

The Isu’s healing items can only heal so much, since they take from an Isu to heal them, such as their energy, and so it’s highly advised not to use them unless in a dire situation. This is also before the Jack the Ripper stuff happens, so Jacob’s the only one that knows he has a healing shroud to help out. And so Arno does his best to help advise Florence on how to care for Jacob with what’s available. It’s my thought that, in this AU, Arno is also more of a healer than the other ambassadors. Instead of going into the military or some other profession that would require him to get his hands dirty, Arno goes into medicine, especially since it still allows him to help people. So, with his knowledge of medicine and Florence’s help, they’re able to at least get Jacob to wake up and set him on the road to recovery

Starrick also returns to try and take this to his advantage. He’s been in hiding since the assault where Jacob, Roth, and the Blighters fought to save Evie, and so he sees Jacob’s weakness and Evie’s absence as an opportunity to try again on kidnapping an Isu for bargaining... He tries to account for Arno as well but it backfires when he realizes that, besides being involved in medicine, Arno is a sneaky bastard

The Assassins know that Starrick is planning something and so up the protection around Jacob but their numbers are still too few to really deal with the Templar presence in London, especially since the hospital’s in a borough where there’s still a heavy Templar presence. Arno knows the danger but still offers to stay and look after Jacob, taking up the night shifts for Florence. This leads to him being involved when the Templars try to infiltrate the hospital, to which Arno hides around and basically snipes anybody who isn’t an Assassin until there are no Templars left. This quickly endears him to the Assassins but he turns them down, saying that he feels more comfortable out of the spotlight, and so they concede and let him go

Once Roth knows that Jacob’s injured, he’s absolutely livid about it but tries to control his anger because it’s not the Blighters’ fault that Jacob got injured. He does, however, make it his mission to be with Jacob during the Isu man’s recovery. Roth and Arno don’t exactly get along view-wise, but Arno respects Roth’s worry and lets the human stay by Jacob’s bedside. This eventually leads into the Templar ambush, to which Arno says he’s going to handle it and steps out. Roth is prepared to fight if anyone comes in but he never hears a sound until Arno returns, and Roth is left a little impressed at Arno’s work. He knows Jacob and Evie can be silent when they want to be but Arno left the Templars in ruins without ever alerting anyone or disturbing the peace of the hospital (since surely there are other patients being housed there besides Jacob)

The whole reason why Jacob stayed behind and got trapped was because he wanted to make sure everyone else was outside first, including the children. Roth understands Jacob’s worry but boy does he give the Isu man a big talking to about putting himself in danger like that, but he doesn’t make too much of a disruption about it. He knows how Jacob feels about not being good enough, about being a failure, and so he tries to keep the reparations to a minimum and throws his love on Jacob, glad that the Isu man is still alive

Masterlist

#my post #assassin’s creed #Isu AU #assassin's creed syndicate #assassinscreedseries #ac syndicate #evie frye #jacob frye #henry green #jayadeep mir #henvie #rothfrye #maxwell roth #arno dorian #crawford starrick #florence nightingale #alexander graham bell

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thesinpolice · 3 years

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@omgbarbiegurl thank you for your comment, it made my day, hope you're doing well ♡

tried to make this one extra long for you!

fryecest: CROOKED HEARTBEAT, pt. VII

first time here? start from the beginning

word count - 4.024

total word count - 17.443

It wasn’t until late that evening when Jacob finally returned to that same confined hotel room, Evie like a complete replica of her yesterday’s self. Well, if one wasn’t counting the noticeable absence of her sleep-deprived undereye bags and gentle smile she couldn’t shake off her lips at the thought of the day she had just had.

‘Jacob and I have come to London to find it.’

She continued, leaving the space with the now dried spilt ink empty as she wrote underneath.

‘It would be more truthful to say that I have come to London with that aim in mind. I am supported by Mr. Henry Green, an Assassin from our Brothers in India. Jacob is more interested in a scheme to use London's gangs to take back the city from Templar control. He has a tendency to act rashly when he gets impatient.’

“Jacob.” She addressed calmly, pen tapping against the worn paper, her lips pursed and shoulders tensed, as if her body itself was always in reflexive anticipation of what antic her brother would decide to entertain next.

Her notebook had been through hell and back, and its look didn’t do much to conceal its suffering throughout the years. The amount of times it got thrown in the mud, was soaked in rain, or both made the stitching in the back barely hold it together.

Then again, if Evie thought about it, Jacob didn’t seem so far off from the paper companion she so gently held in her hands. Beaten and bruised, it was as if she was counting down the days until he’d return to her in a body bag. And she definitely didn’t like to think about that.

‘He is calling them "the Rooks".’

She added, the quotations of clear indication she still deemed it as ridiculous as the first time he said it.

Something about the rain soaking his hair and clothes, to the mud on his side hinting of a certainly very friendly discussion he had undoubtedly just had in the storm wilding outside, made the irony in that metaphor that much more apparent.

“Jacob Frye, the gang leader. Had a nice ring to it while it lasted.” She dared to poke the bear, eyes searching his as he made no attempt to answer her dry greeting.

“Au contraire, dear sister.” He smirked in return, pulling off the drenched jacket. “I’m on Kaylock’s tail.” She didn’t miss his pained wincing as he moved.

“Already?”

Jacob gave her a look that screamed his childish how-dare-you-doubt-me, because if he was sure of anything, Jacob was sure he was efficient at being an Assassin. And efficient he was, having put all his energy into his goal, he rounded up the ragtag group of Clinkers lounging around Whitechapel and polished them under a new name. Give a desperate man an ounce of hope and it’s not hard to persuade him into anything.

“Tomorrow, we’re taking Whitechapel.”

“Cryptic.” Her eyes narrowed as she leaned back on her chair, the notebook now closed on the table in front of her.

“What, Greenie didn’t tell you everything?” He mocked the Assassin’s name, making Evie roll her eyes with a scoff.

His clothes leaked, a puddle of rainwater gathering at his boots where they hung. “I suppose one good thing when being behind enemy lines is how cocky they get, thinking they’re untouchable.”

“Way to bring attention to us.”

“We want Starrick’s attention on us, baby.”

She held his confident gaze with apprehension, merely raising a hand in encouragement for him to continue, her body tensing up at his choice of words. “The Templars have this grand network of… whatever. Think they’re really smart.” He waved his hand, unable to find the correct words.

Had he just called her a nickname? That nickname?

“London boroughs controlled by Blighters who answer to one Templar… who then answers to-“

“Starrick.”

He nodded, eyes searching hers, though she made no point to comment. Perhaps he had imagined saying it. “We take them out, take the boroughs one by one, and…”

“As if it’s ever that easy.”

“Oh, but it is.”

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Kaylock is sloppy. Too proud. Even bet his train that he can beat us in a fight. It was that easy.”

Evie stood up and marched towards him, brushing away the dampened hair to reveal an ugly bruise on his cheekbone. Well, a worsened one, since the previous one had had no time to heal in the slightest.

“Easy, hm?” Tone flat, she stepped away, eyes averting from his to the purple wound. “We’re Assassins. We don’t fight like… some drunkards in the street. That’s barbaric.”

“Well, we do now.” His brows furrowed, disappointment overtaking his already slacked shoulders. “At least I’m doing something. Where has your flirting with Greenie taken us, huh?”

She rolled her eyes, sat back into her chair.

"Start behaving, Jacob. Your anger towards Henry is uncalled for." She gave him a meaningful look. “First name basis?” He mused, tenseness overtaking his tone, which merely prompted her to roll her eyes again.

“Stay away from him.”

“Or what?” She challenged apathetically, voice holding no emotion. His hands balled into fists and unruffled again and again as he felt a wash of powerlessness overtake him. He really had no plausible threat ready to give her. Yes, Jacob Frye, the one and only, was merely grasping at straws and it angered him to no extent to stand on no solid ground. And they couldn’t stay away from him, no matter how much he might have wanted it. Henry Green was a valuable source of information and a member of the Brotherhood. They couldn’t conduct their intended business in London without him.

He glued his gaze to her seemingly always irritated expression, walking over to her desk. She was always off, something constantly bothering her when he was near, and he was growing tired of it. Tired of those few moments of bliss when she dropped her reserved demeanour being so rare.

"So what’s the plan, then, oh mighty planner?" He bit out and abruptly leaned in, his face suddenly close to hers. She tightly clenched her jaw and merely observed him, didn’t miss the flick of his eyes to her lips and neither did he her consequent blushing.

“You're the one with the grand ideas; the gangs, the fights, even the outfits you'll wear! Perhaps you should lead the way.” She half whispered, half hissed, crossing her arms though never breaking eye contact out of pure Frye-born stubbornness. The last thing she did was agree with the way her brother meant to handle things, though the pain she felt at him dismissing her passion for finding the Piece of Eden was too much for her to replicate it back.

Even though she was sure Jacob saw no correlation in that particular point in time.

“If you insist!” He hissed back, pushing away from the table as he unbuttoned his shirt before disappearing into the adjacent bathroom to refresh himself. The clock had just struck midnight when he planted himself on the uncomfortable bed where Evie’s gentle scribbling slowly lulled him to sleep.

She had already occupied a certain ninety percent of his thoughts before, though interacting with her so casually, or, as casual as their bickering was, made him itch for a shot of whiskey or two. He could hardly handle the onslaught of thoughts his brain threw at him, the overthinking and overanalysing of anything she did driving him closer and closer to insanity.

Then again, Jacob did have a tendency to be a bit over-dramatic at times.

But, he hadn’t been having a good time in the slightest, regardless. And he couldn’t find it in himself to head to the nearest bar either, as the way she asked him to stay, the way her arms wrapped around him then, made him never want to leave her to sleep on her own again.

“I’ve got to drop off this letter. Then we’re headed to Henry’s.”

They made their way forward through the streets and Jacob followed his sister silently, making a point to walk behind. "Second randez-vous?" He scoffed his disagreement. “And who is Mister Maybeth?”

“My secret lover back in Crawley.”

“What?” He choked on his spit, almost tripping over his own two feet. “Relax.” She laughed sincerely upon seeing his dumbfounded expression. “He’s the bartender I heard you owed money to.” She looked at him from underneath her lashes. “Sending him apologies and compensation in your name. Since we’re to be in London for quite some time now.”

He scoffed, mouth open in disbelief. Evie merely laughed further, patting his head as if he were a small boy. Then again, what did compel her to make such a joke in the first place? Or why did she feel the need to explain it anyway?

Suddenly she felt uneasy, her hands turning clammy.

And her uneasiness only deepened when they kept walking through the streets in silence, Jacob again a step behind, seeming like he was deep in thought.

“Why are we headed to Henry’s again?” Jacob spoke, looking distracted. “He’s got something for us.”

As they entered the shop, the Frye twins were met with a warm greeting, which Evie gently returned, the tone of her voice in painfully stark contrast to what she usually offered her brother. She straightened her posture and sauntered towards the counter, a soft easiness to her relaxed stance.

“Why am I here?” His voice was cold, oh so very cold, as he addressed the gentleman before him. “I heard of your ventures, Jacob.” Henry commented softly, never dropping his polite demeanour. “I hope your plan works. Your bravery is commendable.”

Though his words were intended for the younger of the two, he gave Evie a gentle, meaningful look before he disappeared to the back room and returned with something that caught Jacob’s eye.

“Here. You might be able to use this.” He handed them their very own derringer pistols, small and sleek, easy to conceal and perfect for Assassin work. “And this. I'm sure you can put this to better use than I can.” He murmured, giving them two bent blades, the kukri.

“What's this Greenie, Assassin Christmas?” Jacob said, half appreciatively, half mockingly.

Though his comedic genius fell on deaf ears. “You can go now, Jacob.” Evie shooed him away, turning to the books Henry brought out once more.

“How many times can you talk about this damn Piece of Eden before you die of boredom?” He mused, spinning the newly acquired blade in his hands. He was most certainly ready to nag his sister on having to even interact with Henry Green, though in true Jacob childish fashion, now that she was asking him to leave, he felt like being the academic bookworm out of mere spite.

“Go talk to your… Rooks.” She scoffed, her attention fully on the Assassin who actually appreciated and shared her passion for precursor artefacts. Henry was a refreshing sight and a good distraction, though Evie was more like her brother than she thought. Her fingers itched for some action, to explore London and all it has to offer, and some classical Assassin espionage wouldn’t spoil her mood either. It wasn’t exactly her plan to be cooped up inside for the second day in a row.

Though just as her brother, seeing him be so dismissive over what she was passionate about stung in a special kind of way, and she too, felt like being the academic bookworm, simply out of spite.

“Afternoon. Be there.” Jacob said through his teeth, his previously planned business overtaking his stubbornness and current personal turmoil. He intended to prove himself to Evie, even if he had to do so on his own. He’d do it with his own two hands. It was all he truly needed anyway.

"A hideout on the rails! What an excellent idea." Henry beamed, excitement and elation clear in his content expression. As he slowly and quite clumsily moved forward, Evie motioned to her brother to help the man carry the heavy boxes full of books, pens and different papers. All she got in response to her gesture was a somewhat dull sigh and a cocked eyebrow.

One could practically feel the anger oozing off the younger twin, he was pissed off, more than he had been in a long while. Not when the mistake he made proved so devastating to his beloved sister.

"Yes, it all worked out rather well." Her words were entwined with annoyance and anger at her brother's arrogance as she spoke to Henry, trying to cover the irritation with a happy smile.

"Please, you should rest." Henry’s warm brown eyes caught hers in a gentle embrace as he swiftly dismissed her offer to help with his essentials. Still, she picked up a few books to take the weight off his tired arms.

The last of the boxes Henry brought with him to the train was gently laid on the wooden table nearby. He carefully took the books Evie grabbed from her shaking hands and gave her a meaningful look. “The medic is on the way.” He tried to persuade her again.

Evie couldn't help but avert her eyes, almost subconsciously laying her fingertips on the opposite forearm. A visible wince emitted from her lips as she felt the strong pain radiate through her arm, all the way to her shoulder. "You're hurting, Miss Frye…” Henry stepped so close to her she could almost feel his warmth entering her vicinity. It was only then she realised how cold she had been feeling for a while.

Mr. Green's movements caught Jacob's distracted attention and his eyes snapped to him and Evie. The man's hand tenderly took her left forearm, like it was something made out of glass. He tried to examine it, but she hastily pulled it away, a pained grimace making its way across the gentle features of her face at her subconscious abrupt motion.

"Really, I'm fine." She reassured with gritted teeth for what seemed like the hundredth time since Jacob ended Kaylock’s life. Henry's eyes seemed defeated, unknowing of what to do in such a situation. He mustered a weak smile. "And please, call me Evie." She added, trying to convey the confident meaning of her words into her voice, but ended up sounding meek and shaky.

"How about we stay with Miss Frye for now?" In a matter of mere seconds Jacob made his way towards the suspicious pair. Obviously irritated at Henry's sudden closeness to his sister, he carefully yet firmly grabbed her shoulder and enlarged their distance. "Of course. Please excuse my rudeness, Jacob." Henry only sighed, the defeated look in his eyes only deepening. "That's Mr. Frye to you." He hissed.

Evie rolled her eyes, her gaze averting towards the books Henry brought with them, trying to distract herself from the pain. “Now, I would like to follow up a lead on-“ She tried her best to hide the wounded arm away from worried, but prying eyes. Her brother merely scoffed, staring daggers at the man standing in front of him.

Kaylock was cruel, sure, ruthless, but maybe Jacob was the one that got cocky in the end, as Evie’s reprimanding never failed to remind him. The gang war he organised was more like a joke of what it was called, since Kaylock’s numbers were far greater than he had anticipated and the Rooks were easily overpowered.

“Jacob?” She asked, tone flat and somewhat bored. She was definitely growing tired, from everything that had happened, though first and foremost, of her brother’s disrespectful treatment of Henry.

“I’m not doing anything until you get fixed.” He stated plainly, facing her, arms crossed over his chest.

He cursed himself over and over again in his mind, feeling regret and fear, but the only thing he managed to portray on the outside was seething anger. He feared that he might lose her. And the sheer fact that if he wasn’t at the right place at the right time, by some divine coincidence, she could have died… he didn’t dare think about it.

‘You now have the chance to join our ranks!' She tried to participate in her brother’s attempt at a victorious speech, tried to be the shoulder he could lean on. He had just defeated a major member of Templar ranks, just breathed life into their rebellion, and if judging by the look on Rooks’ faces, they felt it too. Whitechapel was now theirs to rule over, the first step of many, and they’d definitely grab Starrick’s attention now.

“Our research is of grave importance.” She pointedly inhaled. “Requires immediate attention.”

“Don’t start with the fucking Piece of Eden now.” He was mad, infuriated it was what she was thinking about at that point in time, as he glared at her. She was hurting, and she wouldn’t let him see.

‘Welcome to the Rooks!’ He proclaimed half-heartedly whilst trying to put on an unconcerned face. Stubborn as she was, she didn’t scream, didn’t make a single sound as the knife pierced her skin.

Evie merely scoffed, a feeling of dizziness washing over her. She meant to bicker, defend herself and stand her ground, though just as her mouth opened to speak, Henry’s medic rushed into the train, taking her attention to the pain in her forearm.

“So it wasn’t that easy, was it?” She hissed at her brother as the medic rushed her towards one of the lavish bedrooms inside the train to take care of her wound as quickly as possible. “I didn’t know he’d come after you!” He tried to defend, panicked, as the last thing he wanted was for her to be cross with him. He meant to play her hero, and he mentally cursed himself over where that lead him in the end.

"I forgot about you..." Jacob carefully picked up the pistol-like object that instead of regular bullets, seemed to shoot out arrows attached to a rope. It was an ugly pistol really, with a poorly made grey-ish design and initials R.K. engraved onto it.

Evie had picked it up after he had delivered Kaylock’s untimely death sentence, commenting on how it appeared to be broken. And dysfunctional it was, in need of repair were it ever to be used for its originally intended purpose.

Jacob gave his sister a few days' rest, or rather forced her to take it. Despite her protests, he merely allowed her to leave one of the bedrooms on their train to sift through books her and Henry had brought with them.

The cut was accidental, aimed at something more vital, though as she was distracted by Jacob fighting Blighters one versus three just metres away from her, her dodging skills slacked, and her arm blocked the path of Rexford’s knife. It was an intimidating looking cut, from her wrist leading up to her elbow, though very shallow and didn’t require much else than a disinfectant, a couple of stitches and a tight bandage.

‘It has taken the bribing of several of Mr. Green's London contacts, not to mention intercepting messages meant for Templar agents, but we have determined that Miss Thorne does not yet have the Piece of Eden. That much is good news.’

She scribbled in her notebook, ever so often mindlessly grabbing the injured arm. She felt mad at her brother’s reckless arrogance, yet still somewhat proud of what he managed to achieve in such a short period of time.

‘However, she is expecting a delivery to the London docks, which she will collect personally. Whatever it is, I must get to it before she does.’

Evie was afraid she’d lose the lead on Lucy Thorne’s pursuit of the Piece of Eden if she didn’t act fast enough, though something in Jacob’s eyes didn’t let her object to his commands, no matter how silly they might have seemed.

"So…the Rooks are a proper thing now.”

She appeared at the door to his bedroom early in the morning, giving it a quick look. The lavish bed, expensive décor, satin sheets, all stood in stark contrast with their small hotel room.

Henry had been snooping around for her, collecting additional information, but only tip toed around the idea of pursuing anything in person, despite Evie’s encouragements. Thankfully, he’d found out the delivery hadn’t come yet, but it’d be arriving soon.

“I would disagree with the colour choice though." She smirked at him, trying to lighten the mood as she squeezed her wounded hand. The past few days their conversations were chipped and cold, with barely anything but an exchanged glance or two.

"It's a beautiful shade of green and you, my dear sister, are simply just jealous." He joked back, stepping towards her. Absently, Jacob grabbed her injured hand to inspect it.

He had kept himself busy, instead of relishing in his new bedroom, spent a few nights out getting himself acquainted with Whitechapel pubs, drinking with his newly acquired green-clothed friends at night, and took care of Rook business during the day. The burning drink always helped take away the pain of his mistakes, and his gang seemed like a good enough distraction.

"This means you approve of my Rooks now?" He asked, finally meeting her eyes as he let her hand drop back to her side. She pouted, crossing her arms. "If you admit the Pieces of Eden are of big importance then I shall at least acknowledge this elaborate scheme of yours." Sometimes, she was too proud for her own good as well.

He clenched his jaw and shook his head, looking her over with an intense stare that seemed to speak a thousand of silent, unrecognisable words.

"Look, the truth is, I need your help. Please. Henry found a lead on Ms. Throne's Piece of Eden and I have to investigate, but I can't do it on my own." Her voice was determined, but pleading.

"Why don't you have Greenie help you? You seem to have become quite the pair." He commented, his words bitter and muffled. Constantly feeling conflicted on what he should do has been wearing him out, more than he dared to admit. He hated seeing her spend so much time with the older Assassin, though wished for her to rest and recover before springing back into action.

The sheer possibility of how sudden her death could really be if they weren’t careful, made him want to lock her inside for the foreseeable future, even if that meant pushing her closer to Henry. Though he knew he couldn’t really do such a thing, Jacob knew her well enough to know she couldn’t be cooped up inside for so long any more than he did.

The train had just started moving, indicating the clock struck six in the morning. Jacob ran his hand through his hair with an exhausted sigh. Barely getting any sleep due to his racing mind, he felt drowsy and annoyed. He looked away, his eyes moving from the slowly passing streets of London he saw through the window, to the object twirling in his hands.

"Henry doesn't want me to put myself in danger and go steal from Ms. Thorne. The place will be heavily guarded." She explained in half a whisper. His eyes didn't move an inch from the peculiar device as she spoke. "So? What if I don’t want to put you in danger either?" He further inquired, his gaze still remaining fixed on the pistol. “Too late for that, is it?” She answered, raising her bandaged hand. “Ouch.” He snorted, though feeling a pang of guilt at the partial truth.

"I want to cease the package no matter what. I don't care if it's dangerous."

"You finally want to do things my way?" He laughed and finally looked at her, suddenly losing his train of thought.

She raised an eyebrow, looking at him head leaning to the side. “Just-“ She leaned forwards, grabbing the pistol-shaped object from his hands to observe it on her own. “-stick to the plan.”

credit: evie's first notebook entry, more dialogue from this scene, first gang war

read pt. VIII here

|| this fanfiction was written by me. you can also read it here, if you prefer. ||

#assassinscreed #assassins creed #assassinscreedsyndicate #ac syndicate #fanfic #fanfiction #assassin's creed #assassin's creed fanfiction #jacob frye #evie frye #frye twins #fryecest #jacob × evie #crookedheartbeat

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braverook · 4 years

Text

STARTER CALL FOR DANNY’S TEMPLAR AU. no cap.

AU BREAKDOWN:

instead of dying at childbirth, danny’s biological mother survives and in turn danny’s biological father doesn’t die a few months down the line. this changes a lot for our usual rook, who now never grows up on the streets or by daisy ( not knowing she exists ) and lives a life of high luxury inside london’s templar circle. he’s taught the fundamentals from a young age, indoctorated into the order by their 20s, and placed in charge of security at his father’s illegal / sometimes legal shipment business under crawford starrick.

it’s discovered at around 24 that the assassin, jacob frye ( rooksxandxpints ) killed both annette and lloyd the same night he had gone drinking with danny, not realising the man’s ties nor that they were his parents -- since then, it’s become a goal for danny to take down the fryes.

YOU CAN READ MORE HERE.

#❪ furiously drinks tea. ❫ — ooc.#starter call.

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vostara · 4 years

Text

Impietas - 01

PART I — lead me closer to the light

pairing: jacob frye x original female character (marianne)

blurb: “One’s given name is hardly a confirmation of character.”

word count: 3.4k+

title inspiration: horizon - snow ghosts

[VAMPIRE AU] From the moment she was born, Marianne Braxton, née Winchester, has been coerced into giving the Templar Order her unwavering loyalty. After years of witnessing the horrors performed in the name of the Order, she questions the purpose of such an organization. But dismantling the Order is a task that can’t be accomplished alone.

This work is cross-posted on Ao3.

01 | … series masterlist

London, 1867

The confession tumbles out of his lips. And though Marianne knows that he stands by his words, she does not miss the waver in his voice. He is unsure, but desperate to reveal this truth. Almost eager to open the pages of a once concealed book; to point at the one sentence that unlocks the key to understanding its meaning.

“I love you,” he says.

A silence follows this revelation.

But it is a truth that Marianne has known for quite some time. For she has already witnessed his lingering gazes, has already felt the way he shudders when her skin makes contact with his own. And yet, she is not ready for this verbal confirmation of her suspicions.

Her hands press against her plum colored dress. And out of reflex, she smoothes down the fabric beneath her fingers. She needs a moment to process, to fully gather her thoughts. The woman wants to string together the right words, a response appropriate for this situation. Something that will cause the least amount of damage to their relationship.

“I’m sorry,” she says, “but I do not return your affections.”

The man gives her a small smile, unsurprised by her rejection. “I know,” he says, with a nod of his head. His amber eyes drift to focus their gaze on the dark wood of his large desk. “I simply wanted to express my feelings for you.”

“Claude,” Marianne sighs and takes a cautious step towards the man. “This does not mean that I will never learn to care for you, as more than a dear friend. This marriage was—”

“An event that I never believed I would experience with you,” he interrupts. “I can understand why you agreed to marry me and I will not fault you for your decision. I have known you long enough to be well aware of the difficulties you have experienced. I do not blame you for wanting to escape from your parents, from their endless demands. I am a Baron, and that was more than enough reason for your parents agreed to our marriage. You have become a Baroness, an upgrade to your status in society.”

Marianne frowns. “I did not marry you for you title.”

“It is okay, Marianne. You do not need to justify your actions.” The man stands up from his armchair and approaches the woman. “I do not ask that of you.”

“Tell me why we are having this conversation,” she raises her gaze to meet his own.

Claude hesitates, before reaching a hand towards the woman. His fingertips brush against the loose curls of her copper hair. And just as he is about to press his palm against the skin of her cheek, he pulls his arm away. “You are much more intelligent than our peers would like to believe. And you have a heart, one that should not be chained by the vows that you have made with the Order. When I am gone—”

“Gone?” Marianne interrupts. “Where are you going?”

The man continues, ignoring her inquiries. “I want you to trust your instincts,” he says. His hands lightly grasp onto the sides of her arms. “Question everything, question the Order. I know that you have doubts about their cause, purpose. You know that something is not adding up. That vampirism is spreading at an exponential pace. It is unnatural, as if the spread is being encouraged, manipulated by an outside force.”

Marianne blinks. She studies the man looming above her. “What do you know?”

“That the worst thing that you have ever seen is nothing, compared to the truth.”

“Claude—”

The couple are interrupted by a knock on the door.

Claude retracts his hands and takes a step away from his wife. “You may enter,” he says.

One of their maids, Bethany, enters the room.

“My Lord, my Lady,” she says, “Mr. Crawford Starrick is here. He requests a moment of your time, Lady Braxton, if possible.”

Claude groans and runs his fingers through his short blond hair. “What could that vile man possibly want now?”

Marianne stifles a chuckle, before it has the chance to escape from her lips, and turns to address the young woman. “Please inform Mr. Starrick that I will be with him in just a few moments.”

“Of course, my Lady,” the woman curtsies and exits the room.

“I do not know why you bother entertaining that man,” Claude says.

“Sometimes it is easier to simply do the bare minimum,” she responds. “Smile and laugh, when prompted, and then slip away once the opportunity arises.”

The man crosses his arms and leans against his desk. “And what happens when the bare minimum is no longer enough? Will you still continue to appease that man with your attention?”

“If you were not so keen on angering the future Grand Master, I would not have to appease him as often as I do.”

Claude scoffs. “That is a silly rumor.”

“To ignore that possibility is utter naivety on your part.”

“Starrick will never get that kind of promotion, not with the amount of people that dislike him.”

Marianne turns to exit the room. When her fingers latch onto the doorknob, she pauses to give one last remark. “You forget that leaders do not have to be liked; they just need persuade those who will help them accomplish their goals.”

~ ~ ~

“Mr. Starrick,” Marianne greets. She descends the steps of the grand staircase and then approaches the man. “I was not expecting your company.”

“Forgive the intrusion, Lady Marianne,” the man replies. He gives her a small bow, before gesturing to a somewhat small, flat object propped against the wall. “I come bearing a gift, an early birthday present.”

“I see.” Marianne steps closer the rectangular object. Once her fingers are tightly gripped onto the edges, she lifts it up. It has a surprising amount of weight to it, but it is still far from too heavy for her to carry. The gift is concealed by large pieces of parchment, which Marianne gracefully tears away.

This action exposes an oil painting, a landscape. Her eyes trace the coating of colorful hues, examining the splatters of pinks, blues, and yellows for flower petals. The vivid brushstrokes of colors blend in with the lush greenery of surrounding grasses and leaves. Off-center, on the right side of the painting, is a woman. She is dressed in a large navy blue evening gown, complete with a subtle floral print and lace trimmings on the sleeves. Though the angle of her head conceals her identity, the woman’s shade of red hair bears a striking resemblance to Marianne’s own locks.

“This is quite beautiful,” the woman says. “It reminds me of my parents’ countryside estate, of the springtime blooms that overtake the gardens.”

“I am pleased that the painting is up to your standards,” Starrick responds.

Marianne smiles.

She motions for a nearby maid to approach. “Elizabeth, take this painting to the dining hall. I shall pick a suitable location for it later.”

“Of course, my Lady,” the woman says. She takes the painting away from Marianne and then disappears through a doorway.

Turning back to her guest, the Baroness says, “While I do appreciate the early gift, I cannot help but wonder if your visit today is for a different reason.”

The man nods. “You know me too well, Lady Marianne. There is, in fact, a matter I hoped to discuss with you.”

“Of course,” she says. “What is it?”

“Perhaps we could venture to a more discrete location, away from any curious ears.”

“If you are worried about my husband overhearing this conversation, then you have nothing to fear,” the woman smiles. “He is currently preoccupied with a business engagement,” she lies. “Right here is a perfectly suitable location for our discussion.”

Starrick sighs, but submits to her insistence. “I have previously expressed my concerns with your marriage to Lord Braxton.”

“You most certainly have,” Marianne interrupts.

He brushes aside her words and continues speaking. “I believe this to be an unfit union, especially for a Templar of your status. I encourage you to leave him, as soon as you can.”

“A runaway Baroness would be quite the scandal,” she chuckles. “The other aristocrats would never stop gossiping about such behavior.”

“English aristocracy would be the least of your problems,” Starrick snaps. “When you married Braxton, he was a respectable Templar, but he has turned into a fool. In order to regain the respect of our peers, you must leave him. Your loyalty to our cause must surely be more important than your insignificant obligations as a wife.”

“You may not like my husband, but he is still a Templar. And, despite what you think, he is still loyal to the Order.”

“Braxton will only stop you from reaching your full potential. He will hold you back and bring upon shame to you and your family. If you continue to remain by his side, you will lose the support of the Templars.” He takes a couple of steps towards the woman. “Do you truly wish to ruin your family’s reputation, the Winchester reputation?”

“I hardly believe that you are concerned about the status of my reputation.”

“Braxton is a traitor.” His accusation is firm.

But unsupported.

“Then why is he still alive?” Marianne quirks a brow. “Where is his executioner? Is it you?”

Starrick frowns.

“Or perhaps,” she taunts, “could it be that you are lacking the necessary proof? That your word is not quite enough leverage to sway the minds of our superiors, of those who much prefer the company of Lord Braxton over yourself?”

“You will see what kind of man he is. You will see where his loyalties lie.”

“I wonder if someone will say the same thing about you one day.”

The man glares at her. And from the corner of her eye, Marianne can see his fists clench, an attempt to quench the anger brewing beneath his skin.

“I believe it is time for you to leave,” the Baroness says. “I have several appointments that I must attend to.”

Starrick takes one last step towards her and lowers his voice to a hiss. “You will come to regret your involvement, your commitment, with this man.”

Marianne keeps herself rooted in place, unwilling to break beneath his threats. “Life is full of regrets, Mr. Starrick. I doubt that, in the end, this one will be noteworthy.”

~ ~ ~

Before Marianne is able to enter her husband’s study, she senses that something is out of place. Claude has a tendency to cause a bit of a ruckus while working, always pacing throughout the office or rummaging through his papers.

But she only hears silence, a trait far too uncharacteristic for the disorganized man.

The Baroness reaches between the ruffles of her gown, slipping her fingers around the handle of a small dagger. With a secure grip, she pushes open the door and enters the room.

A body is on the floor, in front of the desk. And Marianne needs only to see the burgundy tie, a gift from her, to know that it is Claude. Blood streams from a large slash carved into his neck, forming a puddle of crimson liquid that creeps its way across the floor. It reaches for the doorway, as though, it too, longs to escape from the death steadily consuming the atmosphere.

Marianne is quick to cross the room, knowing that she needs to give the body a closer inspection. She crouches down to look for any traces of evidence.

Aside from the gash in his throat, she finds no other signs of a struggle. There are no ligature marks. No early signs of bruising. A potential weapon is nowhere sight. And his hands are clean, untainted by any blood.

His wound is not self-inflicted, nor did he react or attempt to resist his fate.

She presses a hand against his skin; he is still warm to the touch.

Her husband has killed and—

The woman’s ears perk up when she hears a floorboard creak behind her.

—the murderer is still in the room.

“Tell me,” she says, “is his killer an Assassin or Templar?” Marianne rises to a standing position and turns to face whomever is in the room with her.

With their hands slightly raised in front of them, a figure steps out of the shadows. It is a man dressed in white robes, adorned with ornate golden trim and stitching. His face is shrouded by a matching white hood, but traces of his almond colored skin bleed through gaps in the fabric.

“An Assassin,” Marianne notes. Her eyes drift the blade held between the fingers of his right hand. A drop of blood drips from the edge of the metal and splashes against the floor. “Are you here to kill me, as well?”

“For now,” he says, “you are not a target.” The man speaks with the slightest hint of an accent, revealing his origins of birth to not be that of Great Britain. India, perhaps?

Marianne tilts her head and takes a step towards him. “If I am safe today, then what of tomorrow? Next week? Should I expecting a visit from the Grim Reaper in the near future?”

“That will depend.”

“On?”

“On strength of your loyalty to the Templars,” he says.

“Interesting,” Marianne replies. She turns her head to glance back at the oozing corpse. “Some Templars believed Claude to be a traitor, but most could not fathom the idea that such a well-respected man would turn against us. Still, there was speculation that he may have been leaking information to your Brotherhood.”

The man remains silent.

“I know it is a bit of a rarity between presumed enemies, but are you willing to keep a secret?” Marianne adjusts her grip on the small dagger, spinning it between her fingers, while awaiting his response.

“A civil conversation between our organizations is already a rarity,” he says. “I don’t see the harm in adding to that list.”

“I would never confess this to my fellow Templars, but the truth is that I believed the rumors.”

The Assassin slightly raises his gaze to examine the woman. “You, a Winchester, refused to betray a man you believed had turned on the Order?"

Marianne shrugs. “One’s given name is hardly a confirmation of character.”

“Why did you keep his secret?”

“He should never have been a member of the Order,” she says. “Beneath his guise as the utterly devoted Templar, he was a kind man. He had a code of morals that he longed to follow, but knew that he could not do so publicly. For quite some time, I have known that he was drifting away. I had my speculations long before the rest of the Order. And I knew that if I did not marry him, if I did not attempt to protect him with my family’s long proven loyalty, he would be made an example of, slaughtered.”

“You loved him.”

“No,” Marianne shakes her head, “not in the way that you are suggesting. He was a friend that I cared for immensely. We grew up together; I knew the pieces of him that he hoped to keep concealed. I do not need to see proof to know that Claude turned against the Order, that he became an informant for the Assassins.” Her fist tightens, clutching the dagger in her hand. “But I wonder, what do you have to gain by killing the one man who was willing to tell you everything.”

“Lord Braxton was well aware of the Order’s suspicions,” he says. “He knew that it was only a matter of time before they sent someone to execute him.”

“He asked you to kill him,” she realizes.

“Death by Assassin was the only way to prevent himself from being captured by the Templars and forced into betraying the Brotherhood.”

“He snipped off his own loose ends,” Marianne muses.

“He spoke of you often,” the man reveals. “He wished that you had been born into a life that was free from the clutches of the Templars. And he believed you to be conflicted between your need to satiate your parents’ expectations and your desperation to cling onto some minuscule inkling of good morality. Your husband didn’t die due to loose ends; he died because it was the only way to protect you from the consequences of his decisions.”

“Why would you tell me all of this?” The woman wonders. “What makes you think I am the type of person Claude believed me to be?”

“Because,” he pauses, “instead of bloodshed, we are having a conversation. I confess that I am not much of a killer.” He glances down at his hand. “This blade was used to help my friend. I do not wish to fight with you, Lady Braxton.”

“If you do not wish to fight, then what happens now?”

“If you desire to escape from London, I can help you. I know excellent forgers who will grant you a new identity. You could have the freedom to live the kind of life you wish to follow. My Lady, you could be free of this lifestyle, free from the influence of Templars.”

“No,” Marianne shakes her head. “No, I will not be going anywhere.”

“I realize this is a big decision to make in the spur of the moment,” the Assassin says. “Should you change your mind in the future, I will gladly provide the promised assistance.”

“You misunderstand,” she says. “Without an informant, your information will soon be outdated. I can replace Claude.”

The man sighs. “If the Order catches you, you will be executed.”

“Sir, I may only know life as a Templar, but I know enough to realize that I do not wish to remain as one. They are a terrifying organization, one that aims to rule the world. And if they accomplish that goal, they will do so with the utmost cruelty. The Order must be prevented from gaining more power than they already have. They have already seized control of London and we must stop their influence before it is too late.

“I have seen the experiments that are conducted on captured vampires. They live their lives in constant torture, torment. They are starved, stabbed, electrocuted. Limbs are chopped off, until there is hardly anything left. They are drained, physically and mentally, and it is beyond inhumane. If you could witness what I have seen, you would know that the Templars are the real monsters. They do not care for stopping the infection; they wish only to harness immortality and use it to guarantee their dictatorship.”

“Lady Braxton,” the man smiles, “I believe an alliance between us would be most beneficial.”

Marianne gives him a warm smile in return. “And what is the name of my new partner?”

“I am Henry Green.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Green, despite the grim circumstances.”

Henry drops his smile and lowers his gaze, a feeling of guilt itching inside of his chest. “My condolences for my contribution to your loss.”

“Claude knew what would happen,” she reassures. “He knew that he would not be able to hide forever. His death is not your fault, regardless of the blade clenched between your fingers.”

The man nods his head and tucks the weapon away.

“Most importantly,” Marianne says, “our current circumstances need to be resolved, in a way that avoids any unwanted growth of suspicion about Claude’s loyalty. I will not be able to buy you much time to escape, but I can provide the servants with a brief distraction.”

The woman brings her blade up towards her face and glides the sharp metal against the skin of her jawline. She uses the knife to slice against the sleeves of her dress, destroying the expensive material. Then the woman presses the blade against the newly exposed skin and etches new cuts into her body. She smears the dripping blood along her arm and against the bodice of the dress.

“I hope to see you soon, Mr. Green.” She says, before gesturing to the window. “Go, before it is too late.”

Henry nods and approaches the window. Before he slips through, he turns to cast one last glance at the new widow. But he says nothing, and instead continues with his escape.

When his figure disappears from her sight, Marianne releases an ear-splitting scream.

a/n: hello~ thank you for reading this fic! if you enjoyed what you read, please considering giving this piece a reblog, like, and/or comment. i am a small author, so any and all responses boost my confidence and let me know that people are interested in my work.

considering this is a vampire au and that the assassin’s creed franchise is technically considered a work of science fiction, i’ve accepted the fact that this series will be historically inaccurate. while I won’t do anything crazy like throw in cellphones in the victorian era, I am bound to make mistakes. I am about to start my journey into obtain my MFA in creative writing, which means I will not have the time or energy to properly research each aspect of this time period. this fic is simply a fun side project where I can exercise my writing, while gushing over my favorite chaotic bisexual (lovingly) dumbass assassin.

you can find my other social media at Twitter and Ao3

#jacob frye #jacob frye x reader #jacob frye x original character #jacob frye x female reader #jacob frye x original female character #assassin's creed #assassin's creed syndicate #assassin's creed fanfic #jacob frye fanfic #assassin's creed syndicate fanfic #v.writings #vostara #emersonsfam #fic: impietas

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