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gococogo · 4 months

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A New Day for a New Year | Shaytham New Years Special

Synopsis: Having been invited to party for New Years, Haytham drags Shay along. He wishes he was at home instead of here where there's no prying eyes. Watching him. Judging him. Not being able to hold onto the only person he adores at this party.

But little does Haytham know, everyone watches the fireworks. Watches their colours against the dark night. Everyone but Shay, who is only looking at him.

Word Count: 2.3K

Pairing: Shay Cormac/Haytham Kenway

Genre: Fluff/Angst/Assassin's Creed Rogue

Notes: I wish you all a happy new year! 2024 is here! Scary haha

The last time Shay Cormac was at Two Bends, he had assassinated Lawrence Washington.

Haytham would have known that already as far as Shay’s knowledge of him goes. Information around the Templars seems to travel quite quickly. He’s just glad that he doesn’t speak about it to Shay. The guilt of killing a sick and dying man still weighs him down some nights. Despite what Liam had said all that time ago, it hadn’t of help.

Twin Bends hasn’t changed a bit. Still the same old housing, same old dock and same old mansion and garden sitting up on the hill overlooking the bend. People bustle and laugh in the streets and on the dock, all here for the New Years party Haytham has dragged Shay along to. He was hesitant to come at first, but Haytham was persistent. He didn’t say it out loud, but it seemed like the Grandmaster didn’t want to attend alone.

The ship that brought them here wasn’t the Morrigan but instead a private vessel that the host of party had sent out. Mr Shaw -Shay has found out- is a supporter of the Templar cause. He isn’t apart of the Order, he only maintains a friendly relationship with Haytham so that he can stay above the rest. Stay in power and in kindness to that, Haytham receives information and money.

He’s the one hosting this New Years party and the same one that has invited Haytham along. In celebration for this upcoming year for the Order. But that celebration is only for Haytham and Mr. Shaw to know about. All Shay knows is that Mr. Shaw is an acquaintance. A very rich one.

Haytham leads Shay into the manor’s garden, the Irishman keeping quiet and to himself. The Grandmaster doesn’t bother asking why the normally mouthy man is holding his tongue, he knows the memories these gardens must hold. He can only imagine though, the report on Lawrence’s death had told him everything he needed to know.

And something like that night, the garden is lit with soft orange lamps and flowers bloom on the bushes that line that fences. Everyone is dressed formally, even Haytham and Shay have changed from their usual attire to a couple of suits. Haytham still wears his cloak over his shoulders while Shay has just adopted for a simple black suit with red accents. His hair is done up nicely with a little red bow tie keeping it up. It’s cute but that is something Haytham would never say out loud.

A butler walks past with a tray full of voul-au-vents and with a delicate hand, Haytham picks off two. He holds one of to Shay, but the man’s attention is somewhere else entirely. The man doesn’t normally phase out like this but when he does, he gets caught in his own head very easily.

It takes Haytham twice calling his name to get the man’s attention, “Shay.”

“Hmm?” Shay hums as he looks to Haytham then down at the voul-au-vent being presented to him.

He takes the small pastry from Haytham with a small thanks. It’s gone within a single bite. His nose screws up the slightest but keeping to his good manners at the party, he swallows the voul-au-vent without a word. Haytham takes a bite of his own and silently agrees with Shay, the small pastries aren’t the best.

Haytham peers around the garden with a furrowed brow. Leviticus Shaw is nowhere to be seen. There are some men and women that Haytham recognises but other than that, everyone else are strangers.

“Do you think it’s best to socialize?” Shay asks suddenly.

He keeps his attention on Haytham instead of his surroundings. It seems to help him keep him from diving too deep into old, repressed memories.

Haytham hums to himself as he takes another look around before coming back to Shay with a short, “I think it would be. We should go for a wonder and find the host of this event.”

Shay nods, “Sounds like a plan.”

Despite them looking for Mr. Shaw, neither of them move quickly. They plod through the garden with conversation on their lips. Shay asks of Mr. Shaw, more curious than anything and Haytham is more willing to tell. At one point in their talk, Haytham snatches two glasses of champagne from a passing butler and hands one to Shay without a pause. At least the alcohol is better than the food Mr. Shaw is providing.

“Mr. Kenway!”

Both men turn quick at the sudden shout. Shay looks Mr. Shaw up and down with a hostile sternness in his shoulders. The man is tall and stocky, his suit fitting him snuggly. Shay can almost smell the wealth coming from him and it makes him turn his head away slightly. But he keeps formal for Haytham’s sake.

The Grandmaster and Mr. Shaw shake hands firmly as they greet each other. Haytham looks small compared to Mr. Shaw, the other man as thick as a tree stump. Shay keeps quiet as the two catch up on their lives, then the stocky man’s bright blue eyes lock onto Shay. Like a blood hound looking at a hare.

“So, who is this handsome man you’ve yet to introduce me to, Haytham?” Leviticus asks with a devilish grin.

With a gesture of a hand, Haytham announces the Irishman formally, “This is Captain Cormac, one of my finest to the Order.”

Shay’s chest swells at the small praise from Haytham. He never would have received such words in the Creed.

“It’s nice to meet you, Shaw,” Shay says with a short nod of his head.

Mr. Shaw’s eyes slightly widen. “What accent is that? Can’t quite place it.”

“My parents were Irish,” Shay explains.

“Both immigrants?”

At this, Shay is a little hesitant before answering a short, “Yes.”

Within the second, Mr. Shaw’s demeaner changes towards Shay. It’s a subtle change, but Shay picks up on it straight away. It’s the slight curl in Shaw’s lip and the tilt of the chin upwards that tells him all he needs to know.

Shay wishes to leave. But he doesn’t wish to make a scene in front of everyone. Not while Haytham is right next to him. That’s the last thing the Grandmaster of the Templar Order needs. One of his subjects spewing a bunch of shit in front of someone he respects. Last thing Shay wants is to be muzzled like a dog.

Mr. Shaw turns his attention back to Haytham, his features instantly brightening again. He clasps his hands together in front of him as he asks, “How are you enjoying the night so far?”

“It’s good to be here, Leviticus,” Haytham answers back.

“Good. We have fireworks planned when the new year turns over. Will you still be around by then?” Shaw pushes.

“Of course.”

“Wonderful!” Shaw grins. “I’ll come find you later, I have other guests to find and greet,” Shaw explains, his eyes flittering to Shay for a split second.

“That’s alright. I’ll meet with you before I take my leave,” Haytham instructs.

“Good! I’ll see you then!” And with that and a small nod, Mr. Shaw is wondering off into another part of the garden.

In the distant, in the gazebo, a band picks up a soft tune that fills the night. A complete opposite of the blazing annoyance Shay has buzzing around inside his chest right now.

“Can I speak informally, sir?” Shay asks with a low voice so no one can hear but the man beside him.

Haytham looks to him with a single raised brow. “Not here,” he murmurs.

Shay exhales through his nose and calls a butler over instead. Within three seconds, Shay downs one glass of champagne before grabbing two more and passing one over to Haytham. Shay downs the second champagne without a second thought and gives the butler the empty glass. With a wordless look, the butler offers a third glass. This, Shay eyes before accepting and shooing the butler away.

Out of curiosity, Haytham says, “You may speak informally.”

Brown eyes blink at him. “He’s a prick,” is all Shay says.

Haytham bites his tongue to hold back a smile. “I’m sorry?”

“Is he British?” Shay asks. “Couldn’t tell because he doesn’t have an accent like yours.”

“Like mine?”

“Is he?” Shay pushes.

“Yes.”

“Explains a lot.”

At this, Haytham scoffs lightly at the sudden attitude Shay has developed. Shay sips at his champagne as he looks about the party, trying not to down this one glass. But he fails, his glass tipping up, up and up until it’s all gone. He places the empty glass on a passing butler, scaring the man a bit.

Haytham should be a little hurt being a British man himself. But in all honesty, he finds this amusing. He’s well aware of the conflict between Irish and British and he has never fancied himself to be a part of that. Too much effort to hate someone over their birthplace and birthright. Effort he could put towards the Order. But Shaw, Shaw seems to have some effort to use it.

“Don’t let Leviticus get under your skin, Shay. He’s a rich man that only wishes to be known and liked by everyone,” Haytham says as he gives a small pat to Shay’s shoulder.

This, the simple touch seems to calm Shay down a tad. Enough for his gaze to return to Haytham and enough for his shoulders to slouch a bit. At this moment, Haytham wishes that he could bring Shay closer to him. To hold the back of his head as Shay’s face rests in the nook of his neck. But there are eyes about. And so instead of this, Haytham gestures with his head to continue their walk in the garden.

“Let’s walk it off, Shay,” Haytham softly says.

The Irishman straightens himself up and follows Haytham with a newfound will of bliss. As they walk, Haytham slowly sips on his own drink. The two of them keep to themselves, not too particular in conversating with anyone else but themselves. The only company Haytham wants tonight is Shay. That is enough.

Tonight, almost never happened. Shay had business in Albany that he was set to sail out for. He had celebrated Christmas loudly with Gist and his mindset had quickly come back to the Order. So, skipping New Years was something he could put up with. But with Haytham’s stern invitation -the only reason he was stern is because he didn’t want Charles Lee joining him- Shay had come along.

Being so deep in the garden, -only a few people pass here and there- the first pop of a firework has both of them looking up to the night sky quick as anything. Red shimmers across the sky, then another pop and a bright blue joins. Haytham watches with a softness for a moment. For he finds his gaze turning to Shay.

Big brown eyes are lit up with the colours of the sky. A small smile is spread across his handsome features, something that is infectious. Feeling the gaze, Shay turns to meet Haytham, his smile widening.

For the second time tonight, Haytham wishes he could embrace Shay. Wishes he could hold him in his arms like so many other couples tonight. He wishes he wasn’t someone so high and respected so that he could reach out to Shay in a loving way. But instead, all Haytham gives is the slightest of smiles, a twitch of a lip, before he turns his attention back to the fireworks.

An ache comes to his heart. A jealousy that he cannot outwardly love like everyone else in this garden tonight. That everything he and Shay share can only be shown behind closed doors and shuttered windows. He isn’t watching the fireworks, his mind thinking of other things.

A faint touch comes to his lower back under his cape that brings Haytham out of thought very quickly. Shay pulls him closer and Haytham reacts with a hand pushing on the other man’s chest. His heart beats in his own chest like the popping of the fireworks overhead, but he can feel that Shay’s is steady as anything. A hand covers his on Shay’s chest and squeezes softly. Shay’s face is so close, he can smell the champagne on his breath.

“Everyone is watching the fireworks,” Shay whispers out with a sheepish grin.

Haytham looks around and the few people that are in this part of the garden, their eyes are up to the sky. No one is looking at them. No one cares for their surroundings. Yet still, a twisted paranoia gnaws at Haytham. What if someone is watching.

All worry is swept away as a small kiss is placed to his temple. He blinks at the touch, his eyes still on everyone. But no one shouts. No one gasps in horror at the act. No one utters a word but at the awe of the colours blooming in the sky.

With a little relief inside of his cold heart, Haytham looks to Shay who hasn’t taken his eyes off of him this entire time. He squeezes Haytham’s hand again, a wordless assurance.

Under the fireworks, for the new year that comes, the two share a kiss in the blooming garden. Haytham doesn’t care that all he can taste is champagne. He doesn’t care that Shay’s lips are a little dry from talking in the cold night all evening. He kisses him softly with a hand on the back of his neck before anyone can spot them. They hold onto each other while the short moment lasts. While no one is watching. No one will know. No one will see. Only they will know of this moment that they both will keep to their hearts for the year to come. For the next day will hold something special. And the coming year will be held with all kinds of surprises.

What a happy new years indeed.

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gamergirl-niffler · 3 months

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Christmas preparation with MHA men

Mha men & sexually abused s/o

Dabi and Bakugo(+BONUS) x hurt knee!girlfriend

MHA men with S/O adopting a cat

Todoroki men & s/o having troubles orgasming

MHA boys x S/O with abdominal pain due to ongoing gynecological issues

A Day Off || Erasermic x Fem!reader

Dabi x Shy fem!reader with remarkable combat skills

Am I An Artist? || Keigo Takami x fem!reader

Genshin man & S/O going through psychosis

Experiment || Dottore x Fem!reader

Neuvillette with s/o who broke the law

Demon Slayer men & demons x blinded s/o

Hantengu clones and chronically ill fem!reader

Douma x Shy fem!reader with remarkable combat skills

Kyojuro/Haganezuka with clingy fem!reader

Being a tsugoku of Tokito

Taking Care of Haganezuka's Injuries

Being Married to Haganezuka

In Sickness And In Health

A Treasure Heist

Technologically Challenged

Nathan ‘the lemur tamer’ Drake

Wife’s Touch I

Wife’s Touch II

Promise from Howl

#masterlist #navigation #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #genshin impact #honkai star rail #assassin's creed #anime masterlist #headcanons #mha fluff #bnha fluff #kny fluff #genshin fluff #howl's moving castle

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pixievi · 2 years

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characters | vi, caitlyn, ellie williams, kassandra of sparta, eivor varinsdottir

fandoms | arcane, the last of us ii, assassins creed valhalla & odyssey

warnings | none, you can show this to your nan (except there is a smidge of suggestiveness in kassandra’s but it’s still senior citizens safe)

In denial

The way she sees it, it’s just another person she cares about that could get hurt or worse

Which she doesn’t want to go through again

So she keeps it locked away, opting to just be there for you whenever you need her

Despite this mental agreement she has with herself, she still finds moments where all she can think about is you. Your smile, your laugh, your kindness, your soft gaze..

She is constantly around you, following you like a lost puppy. Not that you mind, Vi on the other hand realises she does it embarrassingly often and the part of her that’s in denial low-key hopes her constant presence annoys you, so you’ll avoid her

So she can get rid of that constant ache in her chest whenever she looks at you

It was like that for months, Vi trying to shove down those feelings while simultaneously being comforted by the daydreams of you and her while you both got closer

Her plans to keep it to herself became more painful as time went on because thoughts of you being with someone else or just losing you in general, plagued her

After a particularly bad nightmare that had elements of those worries, she found herself in your bed wrapped in your arms. You didn’t ask when she came through your window, just understood that she needed comfort. Which is another thing she loved about you

That arrangement wasn’t new, her sharing your bed. Especially after bad dreams. So you thought nothing of it and tried your best to make her feel better in whatever way she needed

Her head was buried in your chest, listening to your heartbeat. The steady rhythm knocking on her little ‘in denial’ door. She realised she couldn’t take it anymore, so fuck it

She mumbled her confession into your skin, her words freezing the hand that traced patterns on her back. Everything made sense

You kissed her forehead and she relaxed, somehow melting even more into you

caitlyn

Hopeless romantic

Met you at your job in a local cafe, which has become her most frequented spot as of late. For no apparent reason

Since that day, she has anonymously sent numerous bouquets of flowers to your workplace, addressed to you which were all accompanied by sweet little notes

While she had a raging crush, she was still shy and wasn’t sure

She would always make sure to chat with you, delighting in the smiles and laughs you gave her

She looked forward to her lunch breaks, because she got to spend them with you. And on those days where your breaks matched with each other, she’d spend that time with you while trying to contain her giddiness

You know that investigation journal she has? Don’t tell me she doesn’t have a personal one where she blushes about her crush on you

After fiercely debating with herself, she mustered the confidence to ask you out on a date. When you said yes, her eyes lit up and she had to stop herself from jumping up in excitement. Instead covering it with a warm smile and pressing a soft kiss to your hand like the gentlewoman she is

She treated you like a princess on the date

But, one thing she was doing was keeping the conversation on you. Especially when it came to topics you were interested in. She did that on purpose, as she thought she would bore you if she started talking about the things she likes to study herself and her interests

However, that was quickly shutdown when you caught on to it and informed her that in fact, you were very interested in her various knowledge. Finding it endearing how she’d talk with her hands when she got passionate about a topic or just something she was interested in

It warmed her to the core. As if she couldn’t adore you any more

The night couldn’t have gone any better

ellie

Very shy

Sketches you all the time in her journal

I feel like she’s much more of ‘I show my interest/love for you in my actions’ type person, at least in this case

A common thing she’s found herself saying to you since her feelings developed is ‘I saw this and thought you might like it’

Another one would be ‘wanna watch a movie?’

She finds herself more quiet around you, settling for soft smiles rather than words. Something Jesse has definitely noticed and definitely teases her endlessly about

Has to look away from your gaze because if she locks eyes with you for more than 5 seconds she’ll start flushing and stumbling over her words

Fiddles with her sleeves or the hem of jumper/top whenever she speaks to you

Once she gets more comfortable in realising that you do like her, as a friend at least, she’ll start getting more bold

Teasing you, annoying the shit out of you..just plain messing with you.

But also hugs you tight, rests her head in your lap, letting you borrow her books and clothes etc

Speaking of you borrowing her clothes, the first time she saw you wear one of jumpers was the day she thought she was gonna combust

It was another night of hanging out at her place, playing video games while Ellie tried her absolute best to not blush while you rested your head on her shoulder

You noticed she was stiff and asked her if she was alright, to which she adamantly assured you she was fine

So you snuggled into her more, head now resting on her chest

There was no way you didn’t feel her heart hammering against your ear. Butterflies did the same in her stomach

You suspected the exact reason why, and dropped the bomb on her

“Jesse told me y’know, about your crush on me”

Her previous blush drained from her face as she froze

You sat up and kissed her cheek, and waited for her brain to start working again

When it did, she cupped your chin gently and slowly brought your lips to hers. Giving you time to pull away

But you didn’t

kassandra

Immediately starts flirting with you

At any given moment - oh, you’re cooking? She asks what else those fingers can do, oh she’s bleeding out and almost dying? Declares how pretty you look under the moonlight

Aside from her flirting and teasing, she believes you’re a literal goddess and cannot stop the golden light that erupts within her every time you look at her

Always keeps an eye on you, even when she’s not there. Whether it be through close contacts of hers or through Ikaros. She’d be heartbroken if something happened to you, especially if it’s someone wanting to get back at her

Another huge romantic, does everything she can to make you smile and feel special

Wants to be around you all the time, no matter what you’re doing. Whether it be a quick trip to a market or you’re just tending plants at home, you’ll be guaranteed to have a tall misthios shadow beside you

Needs to touch you or she’ll die

If you allow her, she’ll have you in her arms whenever - in hugs, around your waist, on your shoulders or simply just holding your hand. She’s addicted

Plays with your hair a lot, doesn’t even realise she’s doing it half the time

Finds herself smiling just at the mere thought of you

After a awhile of all this, she confesses (if you hadn’t figured it out already, she was being as cloudy as glass)

It was a scorching day when she brought you on her ship. Sea spray tickled your cheeks as you gazed at the ever rocking horizon. Kassandra kept a tight hold of your waist as you leaned over the side to watch the waves cascade against the gliding ship.

She was excited, to put it lightly. To have you on her ship, enjoying yourself as much as you seemed to be

Her chin was rested on your scalp, before her lips brushed the shell of your ear

She whispered everything - the way you made her feel, how beautiful you were, how much she desired you…

Her heart soared when you stood on the tips of your toes to kiss her

eivor

Keeps it a secret for the longest time. Like I’m talking, over a year

She felt comfortable around you, found herself to feel lighter in your presence

She realised just how far deep in she was when she got jealous of Sigurd just talking with you - a ridiculous thought, but a thought that confirmed her passion

The poetry that wrote itself in her mind from your gaze was another tell tale

Now when she’s on raids, she always has to bring something back for you and pass it off as something like - ‘you mentioned you needed something to match your hair’ or ‘thought this might be of use to you’

Is very careful to not be drunk around you after numerous times she flirted with you in that state of mind (foreshadowing) To which she hoped you passed it off as her being a drunken fool

She still apologised each time though

Another gentlewoman - pulls chairs out for you, lends you her cloak, opens doors for you etc

Treats you more like a queen than anything else - you need something done? She’s the first to offer, some fools disrespect you? She tears them down in your name

Speaking of that, she’s very protective. Keeping close to you just at the slightest whiff of danger

She trains you, wanting to provide a way to protect you even when she’s not around

Brings you food all the time

Much like Vi, she finds herself in your bed after a bad dream or vision

Talking to you about it really helps her, she doesn’t feel judged

She feels equal, safe enough to be vulnerable with you

It was a night much like that, except for the bad dreams. No, she was just too drunk to make it back to her own place

She can be a very sensitive drunk, emotions always right there on the surface

So as soon as her head lays down on your stomach, she’s off describing her adoration for you, how warm you make her feel, how she wishes for a future with you…

You didn’t get to hear more because she drifted off to sleep, but you’d heard enough

In the morning, she tried to sneak out without waking you. Embarrassed beyond belief

But your hand gripping her wrist stopped her and you tugged her back

She hesitated but gave in to your embrace, waiting

You kissed her temple with a smile and giggled

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gaycragula · 1 year

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Masterlist

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Another Sleepless Night (Captain John Price x Male Reader) 🍁

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Roach My Beloved (Gary 'Roach' Sanderson x Male Reader) 🍁

Late Nights (Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Male Reader) 🍁

Good Morning, Lad (Captain John Price x Male Reader) 🍁

Early Morning Kisses (Captain John Price x GN!Reader) 🌸

Reunion (Ghost x GN!Reader) 🌿🌸

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Spider-Man Kisses (Ghost x Male Reader) 🌸

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In the Alleyway? (Jacob Frye x Male Reader) 🍁

Nice Tits (Jacob Frye x GN!Reader) 🍁

Taking Care of the Misthios (Alexios x Male Reader) 🍁

Some Man Tit Appreciation (Bayek x Male Reader) 🍁

Late Night Cuddles (Alexios x Male Reader) 🌸🍁

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Master (Tekhartha Zenyatta x Male Reader) 🍁

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teecupangel · 6 months

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Ok hear me out: Desmond as one of Ezio’s bastard children. He gets captured or something by whoever and gets forced to use the apple (since Ezio could open the vault because dna or some shit I wasn’t paying attention and by extension Desmond would also be able to)- which leads to the Apple basically sending Desmond into 2012 where he grows up for a while?

So forget Desmond going to the past- let’s send him into the future and warp his entire perspective of time so he just comes back and has NO idea what year it is and doesn’t believe anybody when they tell him when it actually is

I mean, if you really wish to hammer in the angst, you can make Desmond’s time in the future at the start being hopeful, with people helping him because he looked lost. Getting him on his feet and helping him move forward in this strange new world. Desmond was pushed into the future young enough that he has no problem acclimating with everything that was happening with the stubbornness and curiosity of a child but old enough to remember the Borgias and how Cesare taunted him about his father who didn’t even know he existed and would never think to look for him.

Let’s say Desmond is around… 10 or 11 years old when he’s transported in the future. That would make him be born in 1490, during the time a 31st year old Ezio was looking for any clues that would lead him to the Apple. It is during this time that he shared a night with a woman who looked a lot like Cristina.

Too much like Cristina, some may say, to be a coincidence.

Ezio would say that he had too much to drink back then and he had, as shameful at it was, not remembering the night correctly.

We’ll keep it a mystery if her similarity to Cristina was simply a coincidence or if this was the Calculations at play… with something more. (To muddle the waters, you can have other people say that she didn’t look like Cristina at all, if anything, she looked like Sofia… maaaayybbe)

Anyway, the main point is that Desmond returns to the past (or his actual present) on 1503 when Ezio took the Apple from the Borgias.

And this is where the timey-wimey aspect of this entire thing changes…

So we can have:

Desmond’s time is accelerated and he’s been in the future for the past 10+ years. He was living and found small pockets of happiness in the future that he considered returning to the past as… a punishment.

Desmond’s time in the future advances the same time as the past so, to him, 3ish years have passed as well. This would make Desmond around 13~14 years old roughly.

Regardless, Ezio knows Desmond is his son because Leonardo remembers seeing him and hearing Cesare talk about him (this is also the main reason why Ezio was looking for Desmond the entire time he was in Rome as well).

And here’s the kicker:

Desmond isn’t the name given to him by his mother. Desmond Miles is the name he took when he was taken to the future.

And now we have the subplot of Ezio wondering if his son is meant to be the Desmond that Minerva spoke of in the vault. And if he is… did that mean Ezio had to help Desmond return to the future so he can save the world?

#i don’t know if you were looking for fluff nonny #oh no i dropped a bucket of angst in this ask #(starts mixing the entire thing)#oh dear oh look at that such a shame #desmond and ezio would probably have an awkward father and son relationship #especially considering desmond had been taking care of himself for a long time now #good luck ezio #ask and answer #assassin's creed #desmond miles #ezio auditore #fic idea: assassin's creed #teecup writes/has a plot

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isa-belle1367 · 29 days

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I have had this altair head canon running around in my head like a rat on steroids and I need to tell someone about it.

Altair has a sensitive scalp.

Like, on average, he doesn't let people touch him, but if they get close to his head when his hood is down, they are going to lose another finger.

Of course, Altair loves having his head scratched, but he can't really express this, so he doesn't say anything.

Until Malik starts running his hands through Altair's hair, and he audibly groans and leans against his hand.

Malik is shocked at this discovery, but it also makes sense why he always dodged when someone tried to pat his head.

But he is also very excited about this discovery because it means he has a new way of getting Altair to shut the fuck up.

(I need this drawn right now)

#assassin's creed #altair #altmal fluff #altair ibn la'ahad #altmal

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intoxicated-chan · 21 days

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CW ➳ Female Reader/No use of (Y/n), light sexual content, groping, fluff fluff, Shay being a loveable idiot who can’t keep his hands to himself…

Shay cannot keep his hands to himself. After hearing his comment about bosoms and buttocks, you cannot deny that he’s the kind of guy to like both. It’s like Shay refuses to keep his hands to himself, always touching you one way or another. But he will restrain himself to not embarrass you or listen to your boundaries if you have any.

But when it comes to grabbing your bottom or chest, Shay does that behind closed doors. Specifically in colder climates, when the two of you are alone and near a fire, he’d shove his hands under your shirt to grasp your chest, ignoring your whines. He’d complain himself, rubbing his hands together wasn’t enough, and neither holding them near the fire.

Shay does have his hands on you, on your shoulder, grazing your hand with his, linking pinkies, or if he can’t be around you at the moment, he always has you within his sighs, if not then he’ll search for you.

During his assassin-turned-Templar era, he withdrew most of his touching, mainly because he was focused on other things. But whenever he was alone with you, either in the captain’s cabin or his estate, his hands were on you. Sharing kisses either on the deck of his ship or the Captain’s cabin, Shay makes sure no one is around to sneak his head to your bottom squeeze it, and hear that familiar sound coming from you. He’d chuckle at the glance you give him, but he knows you love him too much as he loves you with every fiber of his being.

Author’s Note under the cut…

I cannot describe how much Shay has me in a chokehold right now, I’m on sequence 2 I believe and I am loving on Shay’s Templar era. Please fed me your Shay ideas 🙏 I’m begging you all 😩.

#x reader #x female reader #fluff #shay cormac x reader #shay patrick cormac #assassin’s creed x reader #assassin's creed #assassin’s creed #assassin’s creed rogue #assassin’s creed smut #shay cormac #Shay Cormac smut

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jewels-writes · 1 year

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Kissing His Scars (Arno Dorian x Reader)

Prompt: Kissing their scars and bruises Pairing: Arno Dorian x Reader Warnings: Healed scars

The soft golden light of the setting sun spilled into the room, casting a warm glow on the walls as I entered. My footsteps were quiet, muffled by the plush carpet beneath my feet. The scent of lavender filled the air, a soothing aroma that embraced the space.

As I rounded the corner, my eyes were drawn to the sight of Arno sitting on the edge of the bed, his shirt discarded beside him. His strong, lean form was etched with scars and bruises, a testament to the battles he had fought, the sacrifices he had made.

A wave of tenderness washed over me, my heart aching at the sight of his battered body. With a gentle step, I approached him, my fingertips grazing his shoulder lightly. Arno turned to face me, his gaze meeting mine, a mix of weariness and strength reflected in his eyes.

Without a word, I knelt down before him, my hands trembling slightly as they reached for the first scar that adorned his chest. Each mark told a story, whispered of trials faced and triumphs won. I pressed my lips to the rugged terrain, a tender kiss that conveyed both admiration and empathy.

Arno's breath hitched, a vulnerable flicker passing through his gaze. He watched me intently, as if in awe of the gesture, his defenses crumbling with every touch of my lips against his skin.

Moving with slow reverence, I trailed my kisses along his collarbone, tracing the pathway of a battle wound. My lips danced over the faint lines, offering solace and comfort, as if I could somehow heal the pain of the past.

As I leaned in closer, my hands cradled his face, the pads of my thumbs sweeping over the fading bruises that marred his features. I pressed feather-light kisses to his brow, his cheekbones, each gentle touch a testament to my love and admiration for the man before me.

Time seemed to stand still as I poured my affection into every touch, every kiss. Arno's guard melted away, his gaze softening as he surrendered to the tenderness bestowed upon him.

In that intimate moment, the room was filled with a profound understanding. It was a silent promise that I would be there to ease his burdens, to heal not just his physical wounds, but the scars that ran deeper.

Finally, as I pressed one last kiss to his lips, a silent message passed between us. It was a vow to support one another, to embrace the battles yet to come, and to find solace in the healing power of love.

Arno's lips curled into a gentle smile, a flicker of gratitude and affection gracing his expression. He whispered, his voice filled with emotion, "Thank you, my love. Your touch, your kisses—they remind me that I'm not alone."

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demigoddessqueens · 2 years

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assassins’ amoures

Fluff alphabet here for my favorite Assassins (and some Templars) to commemorate the 15th year and for Flufftober

Based off their names

E,Z,I,O

Ezio likes to be the equal one in a relationship, although in some more “spicy situations”, I can see him as a soft dom type. You bring out the better qualities of him, even light-hearted teasing aside. Keeping him focused and building him up keeps Ezio going. Even to the ends of the earth, he’ll do what he can to keep you safe and loved. When he’s in love, oh good luck to any trying to grab his attention. Thoughts are of you, with that blushed far off look, even Claudia and Leonardo are teasing him.

A,R,N,O

This boy?? This boi! This boyo is so in love he smiles non stop. Always day dreaming of you, reading pieces of poetry or romance literature that reminds him of you. Favorite nicknames are “my love, darling, heart/mon coeur” or personalized ones solely for you. He is every romantic cliche ever and then some! Adorkably a badass! When he’s not being an Assassin, he’s off in the gardens or taking strolls, and you’re always by his side. Arms linked.

S,H,A,Y 🚢 🌊

On the seas, Shay likes to sit out and spend time with you on the deck. On land, maybe a romantic walk at night. Given how this man left the Colonial Assassins and knew the Templars, there are most definitely secrets that can cause a rift but he claims to do so to protect you. That being said, he’s your hype man! Always guiding you and building you up, since he didn’t have a lot of that from someone he genuinely loves. When he’s away missing you, oh he’s an emotional wreck. Not showing it outwardly, but it’s a storm cloud inside him.

B,A,Y,E,K

Seeing you shoot off an arrow, the sun gleaming in your eyes and hair, you have never looked more ethereal than in this moment. Your strength and focus never fail to amaze Bayek. He sees you as his equal in all matters, though his kisses say otherwise. Passionate and all consuming of your being. Yet even such a focused man is keen to matters of the heart, and his calls for you when he finds the Order and is taken away for his work.

H,A,Y,T,M

A traditional man of sorts, Haytham likes to you spoil you in such ways. Fine clothes and some jewelry, along with long walks in town squares to show you off (in his own way). Being the significant other of the leader of Templars means you are privy to secrets, but Haytham has his reasons (at least he likes to think so). Aside from that, he adores your wit and humor and when away, likes to imagine the fun banter you two would have. He would absolutely be the type to want to marry you, falling into a peaceful domestic routine of sorts.

A,M,U,N,E,T (Aya)

Before and after becoming a Hidden One, Aya admired your presence. You were there for her through the worst of times and when she founded the Assassin’s with Bayek. Being her spouse, co-founder, fellow partner in crime means you have a leader of a wife who also enjoys a good time. She adores you, and you her, calling each other “my love” or “goddess”. Traveling together adds a sense of thrill and excitement in new places, although if you’re ever homesick, Aya/Amunet wants you to share that with her.

E,D,W,A,R

Life on the high seas can be rambunctious but Edward can count on your leadership. Sometimes. When you’re not getting into the crew’s shenanigans. Your fun-serious side, with a dash of ruthlessness, is one of the many becoming qualities he admires in you. When you’re not cracking jokes or death defying stunts/schemes, Kenway does have a softer side to him. Going out of his way to talk to you, or when you sees you off in a distance, daydreams how you’re buying his favorite rum for him as a gift or protecting him. Do you think of him as much as he does you? Or do you remember the time he covered you with a blanket one cold night?

J,A,C,O,B

You had been best friends with Jacob, but even the laughs and glances couldn’t fill the you-shaped hole in his heart. When you finally got together, there was never a shortage of admiration on his part about all that he admires about you, including your fun side. That being said, he’s a passionate man who is not shy about making it known how he feels about you, despite Evie’s teasing, and if a Rook tries to get chummy with you they find out real fast! Maybe laying it on a bit thick with the compliments but you know he’s genuine. He likes to scale the rooftops with you to get the best views, especially at sunset. If you ever have nightmares/panic attacks, Jacob knows what that feels like and he’s more than willing to help you through it.

C,O,N,R

Connor didn’t expect to fall in love after trying to rebuild, but you were a welcomed exception in his life. When he first started catching feelings, he thought it was subtle until your eyes met his and he turned away with a blush creeping on his cheeks. He may not be the most traditional romantic but once you realize what he’s doing, you’re touched by how sweet he is. Once you’re together, Connor’s little nicknames for you are along the lines of “love, dove” or maybe something floral. If you ever have nightmares/panic attacks, that soothing voice calms you down as he holds you close.

E,V,I

Unlike her twin, Evie likes to think she was refined and focused until she met you. Then her more carefree, free-spirited fluoridated when she spent more time with you. Jacob likes to tease that you’re a “bad influence”. She sees you as her equal in every way and comes to realize that even in the most trying times, she can let her walls down for you. She values you, in all ways a loving significant other can: your opinions, your ideas, your wants.

K,A,S,N,D,R

Kassandra is a woman who’s naturally curious and takes an interest your activities/hobbies, be it pottery or sword sparring. Her kisses are heated, gripping to you as if you’re her tether. She imagines a simple life with you at times, living out the rest of your years by the beach. If there’s anything you have set your sights on, your Amazonian love is in your corner 1000%. Romance is not her strongest suit, but you know she tries and that’s all that matters. I don’t know Ancient Greek dialect, but I’d imagine nicknames would be something like “sweetie” or “darling”.

A,L,E,X,I,O,S

Alexios did not expect to have a family again (Kassandra and his mother), let alone the heart of you. He respects and values you as his equal, and all that you do. He enjoys hunting, sailing and some sparring with you, and encourages you if you want to improve yourself. After settling down, your presence inspires him to be more at peace. He doesn’t have to be closed off or hesitant or the simplest actions. When he confessed, Alexios gripped tightly onto you, pouring every ounce of his soul into words. You gladly accept, and soon are pulled close to him in the tightest hug and sweetest kiss. After that, you could be doing the most mundane thing and Alexios looks at you as if you’re Queen of Olympus itself.

E,I,V,O,R

Eivor admires you, loves you, their beloved and equal in every way. An inspiration to fight to see tomorrow with you. Not “showy” with their emotions, or the most blatantly romantic, Eivor still has those moments where they want to be near you at every moment. Making sure you’re well fed, taken care of, or warm during the harsh winters. You’re a much valued and loved person in Eivor’s life, someone worth protecting amidst this dangerous lifestyle.

A,L,T,I,R

Though he won’t outright admit it, Altair admires your skill as a fellow assassin in training (mostly as an excuse to be near you). As long as Maria and Malik don’t rib him that the arrogant “novice” has finally been bested. If anything, it indirectly inspires him to do better/push himself to which you tease him relentlessly, but he’ll gladly take it since it’s you. When he finally confessed to you, the tense pause almost killed him (fearing you’d say no) only to return your hug ten fold in an iron grip. Cupping the back of your head. In the younger years, you two daredevils were always seeking out the highs of being an Assassin but mellow out with age. Still, that romance never dies with affectionate banter and nicknames, and gentle touches.

A,V,E,L,I,N

Aveline enjoys shopping with you or even taking (much needed) long walks with you. She sees you as her equal, and values your opinion, be it for both Assassin and other non-related matters. She’s faced betrayal and heartache but you’re an inspiration that there’s always a better tomorrow, no matter how small some victories may be. You confessed to her one night, and it was one of the happiest moments in Aveline’s life, the day you called her “my rose”. One of the loveliest, genuine aspects of her life, Aveline treasures her life with you.

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ff7-has-taken-me-over · 3 months

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Based off a tik tok I just saw (by cauchjoelle) cause honestly, I probably would’ve fallen just a little more in love with my partner if they ever did this 😂 which says a lot about the people I’m attracted to but moving on!!

It’s a modern AC AU with a trans Desmond and Cis Ezio (cause it was the first thing to pop into my head when I thought of writing this out) please do correct me if anything’s wrong, or I didn’t do/say something right. This is my first proper time actually trying to write a trans character outside of just vague little implications, and I don’t wish to be rude.

But! Desmond who gets his period and he’s run out of pads cause he just forgot to grab some stuff the last time he’d gone shopping. So he goes to Ezio (cause I know for a fact that out of all of them, he’d be the one most likely to do this) and asks him to get some pads with wings.

Ezio comes home after a while, walking up to Desmond who’s sitting at their kitchen island and putting a pack of pads and a brown box in front of him.

Desmond tilts his head, blinking blankly for a moment before opening the box up. There’s wings from the fried chicken place they both love in it and while Desmond appreciates it, he also doesn’t understand why Ezio bought them.

The younger man must catch on cause he points toward the items as he speaks, “You asked for pads with wings, so I thought I would go to our favourite place.”

It takes Desmond a second to catch on but when he does he can’t help but smile, entire face going soft with adoration and small chuckle escaping him as he shakes his head, “Thank you, but this isn’t quite what I meant.”

Ezio frowns, obviously not understanding how he could’ve gotten such an obvious request wrong. Desmond stands from his chair, walking around the counter so he can pull Ezio down into a soft kiss.

When he pulls back he pulls the pack closer, still smiling as he points at the little picture on the back, “Thankfully, you still managed to get the right ones. But see these? They’re called wings on a pad. That’s what I meant.”

The younger man makes a small noise of understanding, cheeks colouring slightly as he shoots Desmond a sheepish smile, “Ah. Yes, that does make a bit more sense.”

Desmond laughs softly again, brushing fingers against the blush and pulling Ezio down just to kiss him again. It was a dumb little mistake but it made him fall just a little more in love with the man.

#fic prompt #fic #prompt #assassins creed #assassin's creed #ezio auditore da firenze #desmond miles #Ezio x desmond #trans desmond #cis Ezio #modern au #ezio’s a little dumb #but he’s adorable so it works 😂#desmond loves him for it #soft desmond #soft Ezio #fluff #so much fluff #based on a tik tik

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gococogo · 2 months

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A Fool's Life | Shaytham

Synopsis: Desmond has to dive back into Haytham to find out where a power source is for the temple. But the last thing he expects is something akin to when the Templar first met Ziio. But these emotions run something deeper, crueler.

Word Count: 3.8K

Pairing: Shay Cormac / Haytham Kenway

Warnings: Internalized homophobia

“We need you to dive back into Haytham.”

A few simple words that Desmond wished he would never have to hear. Desmond stares at his father with a scowl upon his lips waiting for the punch line. He glances to Shaun and Rebecca. Yet, they stay quiet and that is just saying a thousand words as is. It’s not some joke.

“Why?” Desmond asks as he looks to his father once more.

“Because Haytham came in contact with a power source for this Temple,” William explains monotonously. “We need to know where he put it.”

He tries to not put any hint of emotion in his words. Desmond knows what he’s doing. But it only makes him feel that itch of anger inside and he tries not to let it show.

“Can’t you just track this one like the others?” Desmond asks with bitterness in his tone.

So much for keeping it hidden. It can’t help it when it comes around his father. Almost everything he says makes Desmond want to retaliate in a frustrated manner.

This has William scowling. “It will only be for a moment, son,” he firmly says.

It’s not like Desmond has a choice at this point of time. His father will just tell him to do it until he does. They probably won’t continue on with Connor until he goes back into Haytham’s mind. Desmond throws up his hands and lays back down into the Animus with a grunt.

“Fine, but let’s get his over and done with.”

It’s the first day of Fall in Boston and the cool breeze is an ease on Haytham’s skin. But with Desmond being in Haytham’s mind again, it’s almost criminal. He can feel the anticipation on his mind, the quickening of his heart as he spots red sails coming onto port. There’s a man on that ship that Haytham knows, and it has the man itching. Which is something Desmond has only felt when Haytham was around Ziio.

Haytham may be blind to his emotions, someone that sees too much but doesn’t focus on himself, but Desmond knows this feeling. This breathlessness at the mere thought of someone.

The worn ship docks, her crew shouting out at each other, pulling ropes and bringing in sails. The Morrigan her name is and she’s seen her years for sure. Her once yellow paint is chipped and faded from years at sea. She’s an older ship, not up to date like the ones now. And she has people looking upon her that stand on the dock. Haytham only sees beauty, a fine ship that has lasted so long. But one could say that she’s only as strong as her captain. Working hand in hand.

The captain, Haytham sees him straight away and Desmond takes him in. He’s a tall, broad shouldered man with salt and pepper hair. It’s tied back into a short ponytail, one thing that hasn’t changed with him. But he now sports a brown leather coat with blue clothing. It makes him look older and wiser. Nothing like the young man Haytham knew almost twenty years ago.

All these emotions that Desmond feels nearly overwhelms him. The animus glitches for only a moment but Desmond retains himself. Haytham may present himself as a stern, serious man but by god can this man feel. And is he ignorant to his own emotions.

The man, Shay Cormac, smiles as he spots Haytham standing on the dock. Haytham had received a letter from Shay a week ago, telling him of his arrival soon in Boston. Said note is currently tucked away in Haytham’s breast pocket, just in case he got the dates wrong. Something that Shay will never know about.

A plank is drawn between the Morrigan and the dock and Haytham stands at the end of it as he watches Shay walk down. Desmond has never seen Haytham look upon a man like this as of right now. Haytham looks upon a much older version of the image he has in his head of Shay, but he still finds himself marvelling at the captain.

The two of them clasp hands in a firm handshake that feels like neither of them want to let go. But Haytham contains himself.

“It’s been a long time, Shay,” Haytham is first to speak.

Shay’s smile is something the Grandmaster has missed. It’s the exact same, just with added lines and wrinkles.

“Oh, it has been,” Shay speaks as if all those years away are now playing on his mind.

Where he’s been, who he’s met and the time he’s spent away. All something Haytham wants to know of.

“And you’ve retrieved it?”

With a soft nod, “Yes,” is what Shay replies with.

Haytham gestures out a hand. “I’ll lead you to the Green Dragon, it’s not far.” He begins. “I’d love to hear of your ventures away.”

Course you would, Desmond snaps out.

The simulation suddenly glitches and everything begins melting away into a blue, glitchy effect. Desmond groans in pain as he begins desynchronizing from the animus. This hasn’t happened since he first began with Altair. He’s aware he dislikes Haytham but not enough to desynchronize to this extent.

“Desmond. You need to follow Haytham,” Shaun’s voice comes through the animus.

It’s very hard to when it’s Haytham, Desmond snaps back.

“Just calm down. It’ll only be for a short while,” Shaun inquires again, trying to get Desmond to sync back up.

Desmond can suddenly feel his beating heart, thumping in his chest like a jack rabbit. He slows his breathing and calms his mind. The animus begins to flow again, the simulation changing from the docks to a tavern area. They’re at the Green Dragon.

It’s just Haytham and Shay sitting at the table that the Templars like to use for their get togethers. The very same that Desmond found out who Haytham truly aligned himself with.

Shay takes a long, slow drink of his ale. Haytham hasn’t touched his, still full in its cup. He watches Shay’s Adam’s apple bob up and down with each gulp before pulling his gaze away. Shay exhales loudly as he sets the cup on the table.

“I will have to say,” Shay admits. “I have missed American ale.”

Haytham looks to the other again to only find him staring at him already. He knows he shouldn’t be so sheepish around Shay. Even though they haven’t seen one another in nearly two decades, it shouldn’t be this awkward on Haytham’s end. Nowhere as near.

“Did you find you didn’t partake in the delicacies overseas?” Haytham asks.

“I don’t think that’s it, sir. I think it’s just something about this that speaks home,” the Irishman smirks.

That gets a short chuckle out of Haytham. Something that makes Shay’s brows lift ever so slightly. A warmth spreads to Haytham’s chest that has Desmond second guessing everything. He hasn’t felt this since Ziio. A longing, a want. But this runs deeper. Much crueller in its wake that Haytham wants gone. But he can’t help himself looking at Shay with a eyes that speak a thousand words.

The two mingle and talk about their lives some more. Something that Desmond finds himself getting lost in. Shay is so open with Haytham that it’s almost scary. But Haytham finds it so comforting and like Desmond, he almost gets lost in the Irishman’s tales and his way of words. He’s been everywhere and anywhere in these sixteen years away. He’ll be speaking on one thing and it’ll remind him of another story that has him talking for another thirty minutes.

But Haytham doesn’t stop him. Not once. Not even when he grabs another round of ale for them, he keeps listening. And this is so rare of Haytham. The warmth in his chest is something the British man rarely allows himself to indulge in.

As the night grows old, the two men move from the tavern to Haytham’s home. And as far as Desmond is concerned, not even Charles Lee comes around to Haytham’s in worry of disrupting the man’s privacy. In which Haytham is very grateful for. Yet with Shay, he’s more than welcome to bring him around.

The entire walk, Shay doesn’t stop talking. It isn’t an annoying chatter. It’s something so welcoming to Haytham’s ears since he has not heard that Irish accent in nearly two decades.

Shay finishes a story as they enter Haytham’s house and he doesn’t pick up another once, being self-aware to know when to stop. The host guides Shay to the living room which is something that Haytham has tried to replicate of his old home. The one where everything was right and just in the world before everything terrible and malicious that could happen in the world, happened. It isn’t the best, but the lounges are from Britian, the floral patterning hand woven instead of machine made. Bookshelves line the walls that are made from a walnut stained oak, made here in America. Each book that lines the shelves is something that Haytham holds dear to his heart, but he would never say such a thing out loud. The coffee table is also oak but stained with something darker that Haytham can’t remember at this given moment.

Not when Shay, - before he gets himself comfortable and rids himself of his coat- places the precursor box on the coffee table next to the empty fruit bowl.

The small wooden box seems to hum, and it has an energy to it. Something that Haytham doesn’t know if he’s imagining or if he can feel it. Could also be the blood rushing past his ears as his heart skips a beat or two within his chest.

Desmond has never seen anything like it, but Shay seems very familiar with it. He sits down in the lounge across from Haytham with his coat in his lap and looks to his Grandmaster with a raised, scarred brow.

Haytham, unlike Shay, doesn’t seem to be pleased with it. From where he stands, somehow on the other side of the room, he walks over and picks it up with a gingerly touch. The box is still and firm in his hand, but warm. He has to hold the shiver that threatens to run down his spine and over his arms.

“You actually found it,” Haytham finds himself muttering before he can stop himself.

Shay is a little taken a back but, he gives a heavy nod. “It took me longer than it should have, sir, but I found it,” he answers firmly, that casualness that he once possessed him gone and replaced by a formality found in soldiers.

Haytham sets it down before he drops the damn box. Such a small thing that has kept Shay away from the Order. Haytham could count how many times he could have used such a man like Shay for jobs here in America. He wishes he never sent him away after such a stupid little box. But both would argue on how important such a thing is. To keep out of Assassin hand.

Without even thinking, something that Shay catches, Haytham rubs the hand that touched the box on his coat.

“Thank you, Shay. This means a lot for the Order,” Haytham says, raising his chin a bit higher.

But Desmond hears the unsaid words. This means so much to me.

A softness comes to Shay’s hardened features that has Haytham turning his gaze away. He wonders over to one of the bookshelves and takes out one of his old journals from five years back now. Dust has settled upon it and the pages have begun to fox. He flips through to the middle and takes out a piece of loose paper. He slams the book shut before sliding it back into its place smoothly.

“I have something for you,” he says as his eyes quickly flick over the document.

Haytham turns back to Shay, who has been watching him the entire time with dark eyes. Instead of pausing or acknowledging the way Shay tracks his every movement, Haytham holds out of the piece of paper to him.

“This is your next task for me,” Haytham instructs.

Shay looks to him before down at the piece of paper as he takes it. Something shifts within his eyes, as if a flicker of hope was just snapped out like a candle snuffer. Haytham moves around the coffee table to the lounge that sits across of the Shay and sits down with his hat being placed next to him. He, in return, watches Shay’s dark brown eyes dart back and forth on the paper. Said paper is a rough sketch of an artifact that is rumoured to be a power source for a precursor sight. There’s little information and it’s outdated since said information is five years old now.

Haytham knows this could take another decade to find. And he’s very self-aware on what he’s doing. As much as Haytham enjoys Shay’s company and wishes him to stick around. As much as Haytham wishes to listen to Shay speak about his journeys across seas and in Europe. As much as Haytham would love to just be in the company of Shay, the Irishman is loyal to the course -loyal to Haytham- and is the only man the Grandmaster can trust to retrieve said items.

There were at times that Haytham thought Shay had given up, but a letter from the man would come not even a month later. It would only speak of how he is still on the trail of the box and that his loyalty to the Order has not wavered. How he misses New York and how he has missed many other things. How he’s missed the blue flowers that grow in Fort Arsenal and how they only bloomed in spring. He had said they remind Shay of someone, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He’d write in the next letter if he remembered but the next letter it seemed like he had forgotten entirely. Oh well…

Haytham had kept every single one of those letters, but Shay doesn’t need to know that. And never will.

The look that Haytham receives from Shay is one of hurt and sorrow. A long exhale escapes through Shay’s nose that has his shoulders sagging slightly. He seems to melt back into the lounge.

“This could take me another lifetime to find with this outdated information,” Shay comments what Haytham already knows.

Desmond can hear the plea.

“I know,” Haytham nods. “But there is no other man that I would trust to find these artifacts.”

Shay’s jaw clenches. “Is there no one else to find this, sir? Someone that is familiar with these rumours and whomever has given you this information.”

Another plea that goes unheard. Haytham is set in his ways, and he will not listen to reason.

“I can give you the contacts on who gave me that information. But I have been holding onto it in hopes you would return back with the box. This, I need for my further research into the precursor site I have been after,” Haytham tells Shay firmly but, softly.

A defeated look comes over Shay. He looks over the single piece of paper again with a deeper set frown. He lets out a sigh.

“I’ll do it, sir” Shay agrees. Only because it’s you asking.

And with that, Shay says his farewells and is off before Haytham can blink. A deep ache settles in his cold heart that has him inhaling deeply to try and rid himself of it. It only worsens and he curses to himself for having such feelings towards such a man he has only known for such a little time.

Was it amongst the letters from Shay he realized the origin of the warm feeling whenever he was around said man? Or was it when that Morrigan had disappeared over the horizon when Shay first set out for the precursor box that the first real ache came to his heart. Or maybe when he first saw the broken man at the other end of the table to pledge himself to the cause. He saw a man willing to lay down his life for something greater and for a better future.

Maybe that’s why Haytham has always had an eye watching the Irishman when his back is turned. Or reading the letters he had sent over and over again when he feels the need. It’s such childish behaviour. He can admit that to himself.

But even so, he still finds himself staring and watching the back of Shay disappear around the corner of the room with a longing. He could speak. Say something. Say such few words that he knows would change everything. His tongue feels so heavy. Even when he hears the front door click open and shut, his tongue doesn’t even know how to form words.

Even if Shay had stopped and turned, what would have Haytham had said? For once, he’s speechless with himself. He doesn’t know how long he sits on the lounge for, staring at the empty space that once had Shay. He knows this is foolish of himself, but whom is to judge him? Such a sad man in a foolish world.

The animus skips time for Desmond, and he quickly realizes that it had only taken Shay Cormac two years to find the artifact. He was good. Too good for what he does. Took him much less time to find this artifact than the box.

This time, there was no grand entrance at the dock. No long-lost lover type movie thing coming back.

Three sharp knocks come to Haytham’s door, and he looks up from his newspaper. He wasn’t planning anyone coming over at this time of day and he had planned to stay inside for the rest. He wills himself to stand off his lounge and wonders over to the front door in nothing but his white, laced collared shirt. He’s rid himself of his heavy coat and cloak, not needing it in his private home.

He opens the door, expecting someone like Charles Lee or one of his own hired men to come and spill some nonsense to him. He’s all ready to wave them away to tell them to not bother him until later. But Desmond can feel all irritation melt away as Shay Cormac stands at the front door with his back turned.

As soon as the door has opened, Shay turns to greet Haytham with a wide smile. Something that instantly reddens Haytham’s ears.

“Back already, Shay?” Haytham asks with the slightest of cockiness in his tone.

This has Shay scoffing a light chuckle. He unclicks something on his belt, something wrapped up in cloth and hands it out to Haytham. The Grandmaster takes it with a nod and unwraps a bit of it to unveil what’s inside.

“Despite with what little you gave me,” Shay says. “It didn’t take me long to track it down since this thing was actively being hidden away from me.”

Haytham peers down at the unknown artifact. It’s a steely grey with lines that run over that, glowing a bright blue like glow worms. The shape is odd and cube like.

Desmond recognises instantly as the power source for their current precursor sight. So, it was Shay that brought it into Templar hands. Now they just need to pinpoint what modern Templar base has it and they’ll be able to find it.

“I’m going to pull you out now,” Rebecca’s voice sounds over the scene laying out before Desmond.

No! Wait a moment. Desmond quickly shouts out. I want to see where this goes.

“Uuhhh. Okay?”

Haytham folds the cloth back over the power source and looks to Shay again.

“Would you like to come in?” He asks Shay, side stepping a tad with an outstretched hand.

Shay’s brown eyes look into the doorway with a longing, but he shakes his head with a, “I’m sorry,” on his lips.

“I do apologize for this quick meeting, Haytham.” Shay speaks with regret heavy on his tongue. “But I must be heading back to New York to find out what has truly become of my estate.”

Haytham can’t help the silent, “Oh,” the comes from him as he stands fully in the doorway again. He wished to speak more with Shay about all of this. To just, sit with Shay would be a pleasure.

“Is such a matter so urgent?” Haytham asks, his tone stern and rough to hide the neediness behind its meaning.

Shay bows his head, “I’m afraid so.”

“I see.”

“Are there any other artifacts you would like me to look into before I leave?” Shay asks, his voice becoming soft.

Haytham looks to the wrapped artifact in his hand. He doesn’t have any other leads he would like chased up his sleeve. But he wishes he did. He wishes he could make Shay stay a little bit longer.

“No,” Haytham all but mumbles out.

He meets Shay’s soft gaze, one that Desmond recognises as disappointment. Why fall for someone like Haytham? Desmond is real curious on what goes inside Shay’s head. He wishes to know more about him despite being a Templar. In wanting to know more, to see if Shay’s look of disappointment comes with an ache in his heart similar to Haytham’s. Both must be feeling such similar things, yet neither of them wanting to say such out loud.

Shay nods with a sniff. “I’ll be off then, sir. I’ll still be at the ready if you need be,” he says before he turns to leave.

Haytham isn’t sure what he’s doing, but he reaches out and grabs onto Shay’s wrist. He’s curious in his own mind on why he’s done such a thing. But he meets Shay’s eyes once more and sees hope. Shay doesn’t say a word, waiting for Haytham to say something. His crow’s feet furrow together as Shay’s eyes narrow onto him.

Haytham wishes. But not now. He recoils his hand away and places it behind his back. He juts out his chin and straightens his back. The Grandmaster of the American Colonial Rite stands before Shay Cormac, and that is the last person the captain wanted to see.

“I will still want those reports of your contribution to the Templar course, Shay,” Haytham says instead of all the things on his mind.

Shay’s shoulder slouch and he smiles with hurt on his features. He looks Haytham up and down before giving a slow nod.

Haytham you stupid old man.

“Of course, sir.” Shay says. “I expected nothing more.”

Haytham gives a nod back with a frown upon his features.

“Goodbye, Haytham.”

And with that, Shay leaves. He all but disappears into the crowd on the Boston street, his assassin upbringing never truly leaving his blood. Haytham lets out a shaky breath and returns to his home, the door once again clicking softly behind him with Shay on the other side.

Did they ever see each other again?

There’s silence in Rebecca’s end before a sorrow filled, “No.”

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