#haytham x reader

[bloodhaven99]

On Fields of Sorrow…

#you’re welcome for the angst #Orden ogan inspired me #haytham kenway #haytham kenway x reader #assassin's creed #assassins creed 3 #ac3 #my arty art #digital illustration #haytham x reader

[demigoddessqueens]

Thank you I'm so excited! Anyway here's the idea how would Shay and Haythem (Separate) react to Assassin Reader/S/O yeeting the Apple of Eden to an area where no one can get it. They even said "I don't trust anyone Templar or Assassin even myself with that damn thing, human kind shouldn't mess with it!" then proceeds to run off to who knows where. (Bonus if it takes place in Rogue,)

I love this as a concept because it can be so much potential angst and E2L!

Shay 🍀

He’s got A LOT of mixed feelings, considering he’s just recently joined the Templars. On one hand, he wishes you could’ve been on his side when he defected from Achilles and everyone else. But, better late than never in his opinion. No more innocents who could be lost. If possible, He’ll try and track you down afterwards to talk. He may not be an Assassin anymore, but he more than trusts you now.

Haytham

Naturally, he’s going to feel incensed about such an impulsive move towards what he’s been searching for. Sure Shay may try and calm him down, but even that will be a challenge itself. You’re everything that represents what his father stood for, what he’s opposed to, and against his better judgment he let down his boundaries for you. Days, weeks, months, he’ll come to his rational senses after a while and would want to see you again. At least to see your POV

#inbox request #assassin’s creed x reader #shay patrick cormac #assassin’s creed #haytham x reader #haytham kenway imagine #my writing #shay x reader #headcanons #haytham kenway x reader #shay cormac #ac rogue #shay cormac x reader #haytham kenway #assassin’s creed rogue

[haytham-loves-chocolate]

Would you write a short story about Haytham reuniting with his childhood sweetheart. Maybe they both meet, in an old barn, for refuge from the redcoats?

Of course, I can! I will do my best at this, but I hope you enjoy this! Also, sorry it took me so long. Procrastination and other things just said hello to me and I invited them in, lol.

Here you are, again, being chased by the egotistical Redcoats. It was all so simple to you: You were walking along the streets of New York, minding your own business, when a four-group army of Redcoats decided you were in their way. One of them dared to push you aside, and, of course, you would not ignore their rude behavior. One thing led to another, and soon enough, more Redcoats came by, but you did not have the skills to take on all 13 of them. 

After a mere moment of blocking yourself from their attacks, and using other Redcoats as human shields from gunfire, you decided to make haste and, risked getting shot at as you quickly navigated your way through the big city, taking any shortcuts you could find. It felt like an hour passed as you kept running, your legs were aching and almost to the point of numbness if you did not stop soon. 

At last, you found yourself in the middle of an open field, and a red, empty barn with a big, white barn door open was up ahead. You made your way in without hesitation, and without a sudden thought, you quickly pushed on the door to shut it and lock it tight. From that moment on, you decided to lean your body against the barn door, letting out some deep breaths you held in for so long. Your eyes glanced around the barn, only to see it was all filled with hay and wooden crates that took up space in empty horse stalls. 

You also thought you were alone, completely and safely alone. You saw a shadow from the corner of your eye, from behind a pile of crates. Slowly the shadow started to disappear, your heart started to beat faster, and your mind was sending out fear signals, to the point where you had to, yet again, defend yourself from whoever or whatever was in this very barn with you. As you pulled out your gun, you could hear footsteps getting closer and closer to you. In the blink of an eye, your gun was pointing at the person who stepped once more in front of your view. 

For a moment, all you could see was red, another Redcoat it seemed. But, as your finger was close to the trigger, almost to the point of pressing it, you saw a face, a face from your past. The features of this person were of an attractive man, with eyes of a dark gray color, and eyebrows lowered to make him intimidating. His lips are steady, and his nose is the one thing that makes everything else attractive to you. However, it was what came out of his mouth that only confirmed your suspicions of who this man is.

“It is somewhat a rare coincidence that we introduce ourselves again, Y/N L/N.”

His voice is that of a noble British accent, only one man that you know has this voice. 

“Haytham Kenway.”

His name falls off your lips quite nicely, and with this, both his and your lips curl up into a small smile. Your hand is still raised with the gun in it pointed at his face. 

“Grand Master now, are you not? It is quite an honor to see you so… languorous.” 

“I think I should be the one to say such a word.”

He lets out a small laugh and with his left hand, he raises it to wrap it around the gun. You let your finger move away from the trigger, and you easily let him disarm you with a gentle touch. You feel your fingers brush against each other’s, something that you have missed for some time now, but you don’t act upon it for now. Your eyes watch as his hands hold your gun and his eyes inspect the color and design of it. 

“Not a bad firearm to have. Did you have someone buy it for you?”

“I stole it.”

His gaze on the gun disappears as he tilts his head up with his eyebrows raised to look at your serious face.

“I took it off a Redcoat a couple of days ago. Better looking than the other one I had.” You continued.

He only nods his head in understanding, not saying anything else as he gives the gun back to you. You place it back in its holster, looking at his face the entire time which goes back to the serious look he always has on.

“How has New York treated you?”

He questions as he starts to pace around the barn, glancing at you as you finally sit down on a bale of hay and rest your legs on another one next to you. From this, you can feel your feet relieved from the pain, but the aching is still there. 

“I have been managing myself. Though, it is not as easy as you think.”

You see Haytham makes his way over to you as you answer him, his soft stare starting to melt your heart. His eyes are now a bright gray with a hint of some blue in there too; he looks like a dream. 

He sits down beside you on another bale of hay and he gently and slowly moves your legs to rest on his. As he glances at your features, his voice also grows soft, and his large hands start to caress your legs, but you do not flinch or make a sound, actually liking the care he is giving you. Your body starts to relax, but your cheeks leave a tinted red there, a small blush that he cannot help but chuckle at. 

“I can see that.”

He pauses for a moment, the silence filling up the barn as you two glance at each other. In your mind, you are in heaven, living in a dream that has come true. 

“I do wonder though, how you have survived all this after leaving the Order.”

“I only learned from the best, Haytham.”

Your smile at his thoughtful statement has him smiling along with you. Just then, you feel his other hand touch your right cheek, caressing it so gently that you could cry. He doesn’t want to ruin the moment, as you can tell from how blue his eyes have become, but you do not mind it at all. He has always been such a gentleman, from all those years you two have been together. It only seems like it was yesterday that you left and that he came all this way just to meet you in this very spot, away from Redcoats nonetheless. Though he wears a Redcoat outfit himself, you do not question it, already knowing that it is probably a disguise mission gone wrong. 

The tension in the air is soft; just polite stares and sweet smiles on each other’s faces. You lean forward, along with him, looking into each other’s eyes, wondering, from each other’s point of view, who is going to do what first. A gentle brush of his lips against yours, a small kiss planted on your or his cheek, even something more like a gentle thumb brushing over your nose and his lips pressing against the tip of it in a loving, caring manner. Yet, that does not happen. Instead, he slowly and gently presses his forehead against yours, and a loving smile on his lips. 

“Bienvenido a casa, mi amor.”

That is all he whispers to you. Nothing else needed to be said. 

#haytham kenway #ac3 #assassin's creed #assassins creed 3 #assassins creed #assassins creed iii #assassin's creed 3 #haytham #assassin's creed iii #asks #thank you anon #haytham kenway x reader #haytham x reader

[rea-grimm]

Dragon Haytham Kenway

You thought you and Haytham would spend Halloween together. You didn't expect anything big from him. It occurred to you that you could wear costumes and just watch a movie, go see friends, or just have a quiet evening in the mood for a spooky holiday.

Unfortunately, Haytham had to meet with the other Templars at the last minute. You weren't one of them yourself, as you had a different view of things, but that didn't stop you from being together. You didn't want him to go, but he promised you it wouldn't be long and he'd be back soon.

He left you home alone with that. You lasted a while. You were actually counting the minutes, until the time he promised you he would come back. But as the evening wore on, you started to worry that something might happen to him.

Not that he couldn't take care of himself, but you were still worried. In addition, he did not pick up the phone or answer your messages. He mostly texted you that he would be late and the like.

To shorten the wait, you changed into your costume, handing out candy to the carolers, but constantly watching for the Templar's return.

It was already long past midnight and you still knew nothing about him. You waited another twenty minutes before you decided to check on him.

You knew they were supposed to meet at Charles' house. That was also your first destination, where you decided to go in search of him.

You had never been to Charles' house before, but you often waited for Haytham outside. You walked up to the house and knocked on the door. However, the house was completely dark and silent.

That's how it looked at first impression. however, when you took a few steps back, you noticed that the light was on in the basement. You tried knocking again and ringing the bell.

No response again. However, you didn't want to just go back, so you tried to grab the handle. It was unlocked. You walked in and called out to Haytham and Charles. Again no answer.

It was obvious that there was no one on the upper floors of the house, so you made your way to the basement. You found the stairs leading down and started up them.

You had the impression that they were endless and so was the basement. It's like you went to another world. You expected to find them in a small room at a small table, playing cards, discussing politics, or whatever they were doing there.

Instead, you kept walking down the stairs. You didn't even see the ceiling anymore, just pillars and flickering lights.

You finally reached the bottom of the stairs. Now you found yourself in a giant hall where you couldn't see the end. It seemed endless to you, full of columns.

You hesitated whether to go further, but when you got this far, you didn't want to go back down the long stairs empty-handed. That's why you moved on.

You passed pillar after pillar and the beams attached to the pillars gave you light.

"What are you doing here? This is sacred ground! Is it not enough for you that you are delaying our Master from his mission?!” Charles Lee's voice came familiarly from behind you. 

That person hated you from the first moment he found out you were in a relationship with Haytham. You had the impression that he was beaming at you.

“Hi Charles,” you greeted him. Even though he beat you, you wanted to prove to him that you were better. “I went for Haytham. He was late, he didn't answer my phone and I was worried,” you explained innocently.

“Maybe this is the opportunity I've been wanting,” he started talking to himself instead of answering you. "There's no one here to see me get rid of you!" he growled, pulling a knife from his belt and running towards you.

You screamed in shock and ran away. Although you had no idea where, but mainly away from the madman.

You were running when you tripped over your own foot and very soon you were on the ground. Charles was on your heels and before you could scramble to your feet he would be with you.

You were mad at yourself for it, but now wasn't the time to feel sorry for yourself. You rolled over, ready to kick him before he had a chance to stab you.

You had no idea how it happened or how it was possible, but before Charles could get to you, a giant, dark blue dragon flew towards you and got between you and Charles.

It was a stunning creature with beautifully coloured scales. What interested you even more, however, was how Charles spoke to the creature. He spoke to him with respect as he spoke to your Templar. As if the dragon was Haytham.

Charles made the excuse that you were just delaying Haytham and distracting him from his goal. The dragon didn't like that though, and before you knew it, he breathed a fire out of its mouth, narrowly missing Charles, who must have felt its heat. The dragon roared at him some more, causing the room to shake, before turning in your direction.

You were still on the ground and even though your mind was telling you to "RUN!" you were paralyzed and couldn't move. You watched with horror in your eyes as the dragon's head bowed down to you before the entire lizard was engulfed in dim light.

As the light faded, Haytham stood before you, dragon wings, horns sticking out of his forehead, and a long scaly tail. He didn't look at all excited to see you there.

He was the first to tell you that you had no business being there. You almost got yourself killed. However, when he saw your guilty expression mixed with confusion and fear, he just sighed. Haytham bent down and took you in his arms.

"Sorry to keep you waiting so long," he apologized. You shook your head that he had nothing to apologize for. You should have trusted him, but you also confessed your fears.

With that, he carried you back to your home, where he intended to relieve you of all worries.

Assassin's Creed Masterlist

#assassin's creed x reader #assassin's creed #haytham kenway #haytham x reader #dragon haytham kenway

[wyyvernn]

A/n: whoops seems my hand slipped- also look at this smug prick i love him

✧･ﾟ: Masterlist :･ﾟ✧

Pairing: Haytham Kenway x Reader

Summary: One passionate kiss in the heat of the moment between you and your Grand Master leads him to ponder on the authenticity of it for the rest of the night.

It was all a blur really, an unexpected turn of events.

Haytham Kenway doesn't run with an entire unit of Redcoats after him. He's not reckless enough to strike without thought, to command his own to seek out trouble where it might get them killed.

Never would he retreat into an alleyway, accomplice dragging him along as they shove him into the safety of the shadows.

Shouting is heard all throughout the streets, like a pack of dogs barking and chasing after a cat. There's confusion spread everywhere among civilians who appear terrified, their clothes dull beneath the vivid reds frantically searching through the crowd.

Your lips stretch out into a grin, and your eyes gleam with mischief at the chaos unfolding despite your huffing. Your Grand Master on the other hand seethes in silence, partly because you caused the trouble that you two were in now, but also because he allowed it to happen.

Some of the soldiers draw near the entrance of the alleyway, clutching their muskets to their chests as they stalk towards the gap with suspicion. You can only think of one thing that would have them turning away but you're not sure Haytham would like it.

Still, it's the difference between being thrown in a cell or suffering minor embarrassment and getting back to the tavern.

Haytham is about to open his mouth until you plant your palms against his chest, shove his back against the brick wall and fix your lips over his. You hear the stiffled groan in his throat, feel the way his muscles turn stiff beneath your fingers, notice how his anger simmers into uncertainty, hesitation and then finally, acceptance.

You feel his hands take your waist, inching to go lower but he keeps them firm and fixed - a true gentleman. You smile a little at his cooperation, grabbing his hat from his head so you can wrap your arms around his neck a little better, your bodies taut and compact against each other.

The both of you try to make it like a passionate moment between two lovers instead of a desperate attempt to scare off the apprehending soldiers but it works regardless.

One curious Redcoat sticks his head into the alleyway from the corner. There's a moment where his eyes try to adjust to the scene before him, of you having your Grand Master against the wall, and him rubbing his palms up and down your waist in a continuous motion.

The Redcoat shakes his head and mutters something beneath his breath that you manage to catch before he leaves.

"Bloody lovers."

He signals his fellow soldiers that it's nothing interesting before they all march off. More sounds of shouting and boots hitting the pavement rotate around the city before they disappear into the distance.

You withdraw from Haytham, huffing once more as he does the same. You ignore the way he looks at you with so much emotion behind his eyes, one part bewilderment, another intrigue and something else like...disappointment.

"We should probably get back to the Green Dragon," you tell him and he nods in approval.

"Indeed."

He sits at his desk now, fingers occupied with the amulet and his mind boggled with the events prior that took place in the city.

He ponders the brief moment, recalling how soft your lips were, how perfect you fit into his embrace. Then he shakes his head of the thought, doubts that there was something more than a distraction in that kiss.

It was meaningless, he thinks in his mind. It was nothing but...he wants it to be something.

He is interrupted when you disturb him. You come unannounced, leaning against his doorframe like you own it, but you've done that so many times at this point Haytham thinks you already do.

"Need you to come down soon, Sir - dinner is nearly ready."

Haytham nods once and watches you go to leave, but his voice has you pausing in your step, pulling you back to face him.

"A moment, if you will."

That would usually be meant as an order from your Grand Master, his authority seeping into his voice and cutting sharply through the air. Except, this time it sounds more like a genuine request. His face is calm, eyes sincere and gentle.

Even you can see how quiet and different he's been since you both made it back to the tavern.

Without questioning him, your hands clutch the backrest of a chair facing him and drag it by your side to sit on.

"What is it?"

"I was wondering about what happened before, in the city..."

You sigh, resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

"Okay, yes I get it. You're still mad that I lead a group of Redcoats after us-"

"After that."

To be honest he wasn't really angry about your reckless actions anymore. His fingers no longer fiddled with the amulet, instead they're now closed into a loose fist on his desk. Haytham gazes at you with nothing but seriousness, expression intense but not intimidating.

You try to refuse the memories suddenly flooding through your mind, of the chase, of the alleyway, and...the kiss, how his lips were so tantalising on your skin and his grip so firm on your waist.

You want to brush it off as nothing, in fact you did when you arrived back at the tavern. But with how intently he's looking at you now, with how he's expecting you to give an explanation, you just can't pass it off as a distraction.

It wasn't just nothing, you realise. You don't want it to be. You didn't think that it would haunt him all this time.

Despite his obvious feelings, you decided to approach him safely.

"You mean the kiss?" Your voice trails off softly, and you curse yourself for your sudden lack of confidence.

He nods simply in response. Your Grand Master has never liked wasting time, and you always admired that particular trait about him but when in the direct face of it, you've never felt so confronted.

"What did it mean to you? And please, no lies."

"What did you want it to mean, sir?" you counter.

You watch him raise his brow but it's not the first time you've answered him in such a way.

He says nothing but continues to stare, the emotion behind his eyes unreadable but so full of racing thoughts and silent confessions.

The amulet in his fist is placed alongside his hat in favour of taking your hands instead. The action startles you, almost prompting you to recoil if it weren't for how confident his grip was.

"Are you comfortable with this?"

Your mouth, although slightly agape, responds with a quiet yes.

His grey eyes flicker over your face, reading your body language and confirming your answer, then they drop down to your lips where they linger for a moment, giving you time to pull away.

But when you don't, his lips gently close the distance, warmth and an unexpected affection meet your skin.

The sounds from the tavern are drowned out, nothing but muffled noise in your ears as Haytham slides his free hand up to tilt your jaw. Both of you sink in peaceful bliss but as he withdraws, you miss the feeling immediately, and you're left with his thumb stroking your bottom lip with admiration.

"I'd like to have you closer by my side from now on," he whispers. It sounds like a demand, but you know it's more of a plea.

"Closer than I already am?" You reply, a teasing smile growing as you fiddle with one of his coat buttons, "I don't know how much closer I could be beyond your personal bodyguard or in this moment."

You catch a glimpse of a reciprocated playfulness in his behaviour, slight but most definitely there.

"Then how about as something more?"

"Why, do you mean to court me, Grand Master?" You respond, still playing with his coat.

As Haytham's face nears again, his voice becomes sincere.

"If you would have me."

#haytham x reader #haytham kenway x reader #assassin's creed iii #assassins creed #assassins creed 3 #haytham kenway

[kiatheinsomniac]

Heyaa Kiaaaa (its wyy btw <3) just wanna ask if you're up for some Haytham headcanons with what he'd be like as a yandere or just some romantic things he'd do (or both) for his s/o. Just ignore this if you're not up for it haha ^^

☾ ⋆ﾟ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 / 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: ok I've had some writing juice (aka: a whole bottle of vodka and lemonade to myself ♡. 18 to drink here btw before anyone comes at me) and sooooo here we go with some headcanons hehe

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: Haytham Kenway

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: canon-typical violence, yandere-typical content

｡･:*˚:✧｡haytham kenway

♡ Haytham was raised to be a gentleman and so this is exactly how he presents himself to you: he's courteous and kind, always ready to protect or defend you whether that be with his sharp sword or his even sharper tongue.

♡ he insists on offering you his arm to hold when you walk around together, will give you his cloak no matter how much you protest when it's cold and he'll always leave the carriage first to offer you a hand getting out or his hands are around your waist to help you dismount your horse, even if you don't need the assistance.

♡ he'll speak out against anyone who speaks ill of you and there have been times where he's challenged a man to a duel to defend your honour (of course, knowing that he would come out the victor)

♡ you're spoiled rotten by him at every opportunity too. If you so much as look at something in a shop for too long, he's buying it for you. It makes him satisfied to know he can provide these things for you.

♡ now, it's because he was raised a gentleman that all of these chivalrous actions are so important to him, especially considering the shameful, shameful thoughts he has about you.

♡ the duels weren't just out of gentlemanly duty but because no one should ever speak to you or of you in such a manner. They didn't deserve to keep their tongues, let alone their lives. You were a precious being and, even if you're capable of defending yourself, Haytham wants to protect you from any evil that this terrible, terrible world holds, no matter how great or small.

♡ more often than he could ever bring himself to voice aloud, he's thought of just taking you away, keeping you locked up from this awful world. You make him strive to be a better man and he's sure he could give you everything you could ever need. He wants your world to revolve around him as much as his revolves around yours because this must be love, right?

♡ he relishes in every interaction between the two of you: the feeling of your fingers squeezing his arm as you walk around town together, the way you once snuggled up to him to chase away the cold when you had to camp outdoors while travelling and he spent the night intoxicated by your scent, the times your touch has been so tender while patching up his injuries.

♡ he begins to realise that he's no longer working because the Order's ideology says so but because if he can control the masses with the apple then he can keep everyone away from you and have you all to himself.

♡ oddly, you also terrify him. He's lost nearly every independent part of himself to you. Sure, he can make his way in the world but he could never live without you, only exist.

♡ Haytham's a very intelligent man and he learns how to lure you in closer to him. You sleep in his bed now and carding his hair through your hair puts the finest silks from the east the shame. Your smile outshines the sun, the moon and her stars. Your laughter is a melody that composers aspire to craft but never could. Maybe these gods from a previous civilisation do exist and, if so, you must be one of them because you are far superior to any creature he has ever seen.

♡ He won't need to take you away in the end and that relieves the part of him that knows he should never think of such things and he should always treat you like a princess. Why would he ever need to kidnap you when he knows how to orchestrate every event in your life to make you depend on him?

☾ ⋆ﾟlike my work? why not: 

∘ buy me a coffee? ∘ join my taglist ∘ consider following/reblogging

🏷️@veryfancydoilies @fischchenlein @writing-noah @wyyvernn

#haytham kenway x reader #haytham x reader #haytham #haytham kenway #assassins creed fanfiction #assassins creed fanfic #assassins creed #assassins creed x reader #assassins creed III #assassins creed III x reader #assassins creed rogue #assassins creed rogue x reader #yandere #tw: yandere

[helpyourselfwithcherrywine]

Haytham X Reader

The Beginning of the End

A/N: This is part of the last fic, it is where Y/N passes and is based off that one scene from HBO John Adams where Mrs. Adams passes. Not gonna lie that scene made me cry like a baby. Like and Reblog if you like.

Warnings: angst, death, no happy end, Haytham can’t get a break

Also, NO ONE HAS ANY PERMISSION TO STEAL, COPY OR TRANSLATE THIS AND TAKE THIS AS YOUR OWN.

March 1786

Y/N had been sick for a while and didn’t seem to get any better. Haytham had called upon every doctor in the colonies and none had been able to find out the cause of her sickness. As each day passed, Haytham grew more frustrated and worried. Y/N couldn’t be dying, she was too young, it was too soon. They had only just reconciled and rekindle their love for each other. Her breathing was labored and her face had been drained of all color. She was drenched in sweat even with her thin nightgown and the cool spring air blowing through the windows.

Haytham walked in and saw her looking at the vase of flowers by the windows. Her labored breathing was a stab in the heart for him. He missed her laugh, her smile, her cheeky jokes. The sound of his cane hit the floor, unintentionally startling her from her brief peace. Behind his hand, Haytham held a bundle of crocuses and put them in the vase. He brought one of the flowers to her. “Look here my dearest, I brought you flowers” Haytham brought the flower to Y/N and laid right beside her. “Yeah, the pretty flowers, they’re beautiful just like you, yeah” He leaned down and planted kisses on her forehead. Y/N mumbled incoherently as Haytham wiped the sweat from her face.

Weakly she touched the flower, “ You know, I always knew you were a romantic at heart” she said faintly. Haytham slightly chuckled, "Only to you, you are the only one who has made me do crazy things in the name of love, my dear” Sighing, “ I just want to tell you that I love you Haytham, I’m sorry that we couldn’t spend more than five measly years together” her breathing became labored, tears began to fill her eyes. “I’m sorry that I was not there when you needed me the most I ---” Y/Ns eyes closed as struggled to find air. Haytham shushed her and tried to calm her down. “Shush, don’t work yourself up over nothing, If anything It’s me that should be sorry, I was never worthy of you. You gave me the truth, your heart and patience and I threw it away like if it was yesterday’s paper. You are an angel who let someone like myself love you and take you for his selfish reasons.”

He grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips. “You are going to fight whatever this is and we are going to be fine. You are a fighter my love, you just fight” Y/N’s wheezing grew stronger and she shook her head. “Not this time my love, I’m sorry Haytham, I love you I---” gasping for air, she froze with tears falling from her face. Haytham shook his head , he opened his mouth to speak but realized that Y/N was as still as can be. He brought his hand to her chin and looked in to her eyes. Her pupils were dilated and their was no sign of life in her. Her hand went limp on the bed. Haytham began to call out her name, but she did not respond. He began to shake her from her shoulders and checked if her heart was still beating, but was met with silence. He begin to wail and sob calling her name over and over, begging her to come back, screaming at the sky above why he had taken her from him. He scooped her up into his arms and began to cradle her face onto his chest. Her eyes void of any life staringback into him. He shut his eyes and continued to cry until the moonlight and cry of crickets woke him up.

Here's the last fic:

#haytham kenway #reader insert #connor kenway #haytham kenway x reader #assasin's creed 3 #assassin's creed rogue #haytham kenway x y/n #haytham x reader

[mtchacffinz]

—and the love bug strikes!

prompt!!! "Just one kiss, please?" Me when I lie 🤭

content!!! NSFW, needy!reader, dom!Al Haitham, office fuck, slight dumbification, domestic, sweet talk, established relationship (married), soft and rough(?) sorry honey i don't have a scale for this one

note!!! kaf here once again! i seem to love writing for this man a lot. expect more of him from me soon ~ he's so lovellyyyy and hott, and lovely and hot and super lovely and h

You listen to his light breaths, the rise and fall of his chest is enough to calm you down. After four months of work that he's appointed Acting Grand Sage, he's been extra busier than usual. Although the man works efficiently, he still has scribe duties to attend to; and by the time that's done, he sees that his other job is stacked.

Fortunately, after a little convincing, he allowed you to sit on his lap until he finishes one report. Just one. Just for the sake of you and your clinginess. To be fair, four months? It has been four months since he hasn't done anything but duty work because of this artifact archiving project! For his temporary solution, you are to hold him for as long as Al Haitham allows you to.

Al Haitham has always been a man of stoicism. If it's something that's unnecessary for his work, he skips it. If it disrupts peace of mind, he puts it away. If something is hindering his progress, the scribe will undoubtedly push it out of his way.

He almost never goes home. When he does, it's either to grab a few relics and artifacts that's essential to his current progress. All your husband gives you is a quick peck on your lips and he waves goodbye once again.

Atleast.. that was supposed to happen.

It started with a small kiss, but all of the sudden Al Haitham's breathing was ragged as you once again take him into your lips— hungry, roughly, and rigid. Your tongues danced and swirled into a rhythm-less pattern seemingly incoherent. It was like an instinct on play, desperately trying to relish and prolong the warmth you've oh so waited to finally devour.

Al Haitham's hand supports your figure, a firm grip on the small of your back. He allows every crevice of his mouth explored, neck absolutely violated by hungry, yet delicate kisses enamoured by yours truly, alone.

Alas in but a few moments— he pulls back from you leaving you wanting for more. Voice barely above a whisper, he tells you that you need to breathe. Take it easy, and breathe. Eyes hazy, you're surprised by the sudden haste you've displayed when you nodded meekly.

He lay his forehead on your own when a moment of silence was shared between you two. He feels your breaths turn softer and softer before he finally speaks once again, only to get cut off.

"I want you right now, you know?" You say slowly, and he doesn't interrupt— only giving you a slight smug look as if he's won something. He dips his head back to your lips but it's much more calmer this time. Al Haitham's pecks and kisses were tender and warm— and it somehow enchants you more to speak out.

"I miss you, you know?" barely letting it out as a mumble, he stilll grasps your words. You latch your arms onto his neck for support when he targets your neck, emitting small mewls from your throat. "It was so lonely. Your bed was always empty."

"I know."

He offers hums and hushed words. His velvet voice strumming each and every one of your nerves ro relax. Al Haitham's comforting words threatened the tears in the corner of your eyes to betray you, but alas you let them. They fall from your eyes hurriedly— yet he doesn't mind at all. In fact, he kisses your tears away, whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

Strong arms quickly pick you up from his lap proping your figure on the table. He took the liberty of discreetly organizing the files away because he knew this would inevitably happen sooner or later. It was you, after all. Al Haitham's tongue was all over your chest with his hands trailing all kinds of intentions in your body. No skin left unloved, his firm grip on you was apparent.

"W-Wait. Your documents—"

"You don't get to think about that right now." He softly taps your forehead, cheeks flushed with soft rose hues. "All I want to know is how you've been." You don't respond. It was a question he already knows the answer, but his voice is so so gentle and soft you take his lips back to yours.

"I'm fine now."

"'Now'? So you weren't fine before?"

"Don't tease me, Al Haitham.."

Al Haitham hums. Oh well, now you have to finish what youve started, right? Al Haitham traces circles on your thighs, seemingly thinking about something. Before you could ask what's on his mind, he tugs on your undergarments, those royally gem imbedded eyes of his trail back towards yours with a glint of mischief.

"Take them off."

For what it was worth, it certainly looks like he wasn't the only one holding back. The grey haired man firmly held you in your place making the most out of what's in between your legs. He traces circles, he sucks on your sensitive numb like his life depended on it. Al Haitham would trace the curve of your back when you arch for him when he hits that sweet spot that never fails to elicit a strong electrifying reaction out of you.

The Scribe diligently works his way through your folds, glistening with both his spit and your juices. Once you start holding onti him tight, he slows down and resumes again. God, he loves seeing your face contort from anticipation of your orgasm to a puzzled scrunch.

"Cumming.. cum- cummin—g..!! Ahn, aahgg! please—"

"Ah, ah. Eyes here." He leaves your pussy hanging, a string of saliva connecting the two of you. Your cute face is so flushed from the stimulation it's taking every inch of his being to pull down his pants and fuck your face right then and there. You hands attempt to entangle in his hair, but he pushes you away. "Don't hug me. I want to see your face."

You could only whimper back. He was so mean when you're clingy. Although he never means it in any way repulsive, his tongue is adept in such filthy language that gets your cunt throbbing. Al Haitham dips his face into your lips, his tongue exploring every crevice of it like it's his fucking birthright. Those slender fingers if his creep up on your heat, inserting his middle finger while his thumb rest on your clit.

Al Haitham's breath hitches. "Fuck, you're so wet.." before you could respond, he shuts you up by kissing you deep again. "I love you. I love you.." your husband repeats to you like a matra as his fingers rut themselves into your sopping pussy. You don't know whether or not he's telling that to you, or your cunt but you're not complaining either way. You were too sensitive to think straight, but you're not too lost to not reciprocate his words. Although your words are a little broken, you managed to let out a few strings of affirmations yourself. "—Haithaam... i love you, my Haitham...♡".

You could feel Al Haitham's breath hitch in your neck.

"My Haitham. My Haitha— fuck. I'm gonna cum I'm gonna cum I'mgonnacumm...!!" His fingers' pace starts to pick up that your legs were barely even getting a hold of themselves— trembling just by how playful he is playing with your cunt. Al Haitham breaks eye contact, nuzzling into your neck. His breaths ragged and hair disheveled from all the hair pulling you've been doing. He relishes in your scent and speaks.

"I'm listening.." mumbling, hinting for you to go on. He's always loved it when you're fucked dumb. When you ramble what you usually don't say in public. When you tell him your deepest desires just for his ears only, looking at the way your face scrunches up under him.

"I want your cock deep in my pussy haithaamm...♡ I want it kissing the deepest part, Haitham. Please? Pretty please? Please pleasepleasepleas—" You whimper like a pathetic slut. Your nails dig deep into his arm when his tongue starts lapping up in your neck. "I deserve it, I do. You know I do, right? I d—unnggff..!!" Whatever it was to come out of your mouth died in your throat as your whole body spiked up in his arms, your climax washing over you.

Your husband pumps a few more thrusts helping you ride out your orgasm, planting tender kisses on your collarbones.

You could feel hot breath on your neck, hitting your flushed cheeks. Al Haitham's right hand rest on your waist, subtly guiding the plush of your ass to his erection. His free hand clasps yours, thumb brushing your knuckles. Chaste pecks all around the nape of your neck, from this view.. it really does tempt him to bite and mark you down right now.

"Ah.. ah. I'm a little sensitive.."

"It's okay for you to back down." He softly mumbles. "Do you need to go?" He says, concern laced in his tone. You were a little more conscious of his hands on your waist, as it grips you tighter. You shake your head no.

There's no way you would back down. Not when you could feel his painfully erect cock behind your back. You expected him to ask another question in his gentle voice, but was met with a surprise of change in demeanor instead.

"Then bend over."

"I HAVE NO TIME FOR PLEASANTRIES SHOW ME YOUR WIENERRRRR" i know y'all r only here for the smut.. horny fuckers. Feed my brainrot so i could write more for you horny fuckers. My requests are open (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)♡

#genshin impact #(⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)mtchaskz #al haitham #al haitham x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact alhaitham #genshin impact al haitham #al haitham smut #al haytham #al haitam x reader

[konnisart]

Listening to Depeche Mode on this one gives an extra inspo boost

Also know as : "My hand slipped " 🫠

WIP, has me on a choke hold 🫡✨

#haytham kenway #haytham #haytham kenway x reader #ac3 #ac rogue #assassins creed iii #assassins creed rogue #assassins creed #self insert #self indulgent #self indulgence at its finest #art #my art #artwork #drawing #digital art #artists on tumblr #digital #fanart #procreate #work in progress #wip #art wip #sketch

[yasashii-leaf]

Yes but imagine Haytham letting you braid flowers in his hair and he keeps them in as long as possible. Even in the midst of important meetings

#my art #assassin's creed #y/n #reader #haytham kenway #haytham kenway x reader #shay cormac #charles lee

[thesharktanksdriver]

Blood's Thicker Than Water (Platonic)

Made this cause I love assassins creed and I hate how they left the plot point about Desmond having a kid from a one night stand. Like sure there’s a comic for Elijah but let’s be real, who here has read that comic?

Sorry if any of them seem out of character, I haven’t played the games in a long while lol

Also thanks to my friend for streaming the games so I can get back into them lol

You never really met your dad but from what your mother described him as he was….a troubled soul

Now to be fair you’ve never exactly met Desmond Miles yourself but from the stories she told it’s obvious he had his fair share of demons

Some of which seemed to spill from the cracks of his soul from the short time she spent with him

A bartender is what he was, until he suddenly up and vanished from said bar in 2012 and died not too long after

It didn’t really make sense then even to your young mind

The gap between his sudden disappearance and death leaving too much unsaid for your mind not to be annoyed by

But as a child you eventually put the thought away

Eventually you forget

Instead going on to pursue your next whim as you focus on the present, or in your case Learning about the past in the present time

Unlike your fascination with your father that went away, your love of history never faded with time

It just seemed to grow the older you got

Your not sure why but something about history just clicked with you

It was somewhere within the range of middle school and reading national geographic that you had realized you liked it

That despite how some areas of it were bleak and disturbing it was interesting

And it got even more so interesting as you delved deeper into the depths of libraries

Nose buried in books lined with dust and old parchment

Yellowed pages and old ink that you carefully decode from centuries of lost meaning and metaphors lost to the modern age

You studied from the ancients all the way up to Victorian

Easing your way though literal centuries of historical records as you soaked up information like a sponge

And it’s there you vegans seeing an odd…repetition of events that seemed to occur

Odd assassinations plagued each era you looked into, all of which connected somehow by people in odd dress

In some journals that had luckily stood the tests of time you uncovered more eye witness accounts

A solider’s log back in the revolutionary war talking about an odd man meeting with his superiors in the dead of night

The diary of a log master who wrote of an odd frequent visitor that had an odd blade hidden beneath his sleeve

The drawing of a Victorian child being freed from a factory that had a hooded lady and man on the rooftop

I’m one you found a symbol, one created from the bottom perspective of an eagle skull, something also commonly associated with these hooded figures

What’s odd as well is that with these hooded assassins you also find traces of another group

One well know to historians such as yourself

Oddly enough the symbol of the Templar knights keep showing up even after their annulment

It’s odd, but what’s more odd enough is that both seemed to be tied to other historical artifacts

Ones well kept in archives and from the public eye

Ones you shouldn’t technically know about if not for you sneaking into sections your don’t have the status to enter

Their always gold with odd symbols. Somehow always pristine and polished despite the fact their dated to be from before ancient times

They for some reason seem to call to you specifically

Tempting you with forbidden knowledge you wish to taste like Eve

But for now you choose to wait until you can do proper analysis on them without the risk of punishment

So you lie and wait

Admittedly you didn’t think anyone expected for you to be this good at your job

In their defence you were a university student here on Co-op and not an actual full time historian

Hell you were in first year for gods sake

But somehow despite it all

Despite the fact you had actual historians and people in the history program years above you here you quickly began to become an outlier

A shinning beacon within the large archive, so much so that you began being allowed in the restricted sections you already snuck into

Mind you, now properly allowed there with some supervision of sorts gave you much more flexibility in research

You got to touch these artifacts

Hold them in gloved palms as silk covered finger glide across its edges and ridges

You study them extensively decrypting and decoding the ancient texts and hieroglyphs

Jotting down what you found in both a report and your own personal journal

Your not sure why you do so but you chock it up to making sure no one takes credit for your work

And this continues to the point your eventually allowed alone with them

It’s great

You dedicate yourself to this task as you learn more and more

Soaking up knowledge like a sponge as you find out more of what was previously lost

Find new angles and perspectives on events

For history isn’t just a set time and date, it’s interpretation based on what we know from sources

And even then sources can be biased

Sources can lie and silence another person’s view on the event

Your more than happy to try make your own interpretations

Admittedly when you were asked to study what looked to be a necklace from these unidentified ancient artifacts you were ecstatic

How could you not be?

Intricate gold woven in something akin to Grecian jewelry

Yet also had hints of something akin to Egyptian

It also…glows? Or at least you swear you’ve seen it glow gold and pulsate a few times but that could be the sleep deprivation speaking

Either way it’s an honour

One you don’t take lightly as you study it

Spending countless restless nights and days trying to crack its code

An unknown source has been funding the archive and your research quite a bit

Betting big money on it much to your surprise and suspension

You get that this is potentially something big but it feels out of left field

Especially since no one knows the name of the company

It’s just under an anonymous donation every month

It’s sketchy

But you aren’t one to argue about free money to further your and your colleagues pursuit of knowledge

Not when this beautiful place used to be underfunded

Not when most historical records were donated by people with a good conscious

Not when this place was almost shut down

With a sigh you continue on your work

Diligently tact checking and writing up a storm

Your writing looks like chicken scratch but that was a commonality between all history majors

Well, along with being giant nerds

And it’s there at that desk at 3 am in the morning, tired and only running on 3 hours of rest you find something peculiar on the necklace

A sharp jaded edge that you absentmindedly prick yourself on by accident

With a groan you wipe the blood away on your pants

Then going up to get a bandaid

You swore to god if you died of tetanus you’d be positively pissed

Unknown to you the necklace starts to glow

When you get home your more exhausted than usual

Your limbs feel like their kade of concrete and your head is stuffed with tissue

Eyelids trying to glue themselves shut

You practically kick off your shoes before tumbling to the couch

Not bothering in changing clothes or showering for the sweet relief of sleeps embrace

So you flop down face first into the old leather cushions of your couch

Only putting in the effort of fishing a hand to grab a throw pillow and blanket from nearby that you burrowed yourself into

A comfy cocoon/prison you couldn’t will yourself to leave even as you swore for a moment you heard something in the house

But your mind writes it off

Your too tired to question anything let alone get up

All you want is sleep

And that’s exactly what you get as your eyelids shut

You fall into the realm of dreams, odd ones playing out in your mind

Blurred images of odd men

A weird void-like realm

The cries of an eagle overhead

A single word appearing in your head

Kenway

And then your eyes snap awake when the sound of arguing fills your ears

Yelling of several male voices jumbling up your already fogged up sense as you practically fall off the couch in a mixture of fear and confusion

Curses escaping your mouth when suddenly the voices go silent and your left in a realm of fear

Hair standing on end as the creaking of the house makes you more alert

Despite the fact you’d never fought a day in your life you will up the courage to grab a baseball bat and cautious cross to where you heard the commotion

Careful steps on the non-creaky boards of the home that you’d luckily memorized

And there you find several men in old garb

Accents of Red tying them together like a string of fate

Or a trail of blood fainting their very existence

they turn to you with sharp eyes

It’s the one in modern clothes that surprises you the most

The face of your supposed dead father staring back at you

Ocher brown eyes that had long lost their life now rejuvenated as they seem to find familiarity in your own features

Some of which mirror his own along with some of the others in the room

The bridge of your nose

A all powerful spark in your eyes as they flick between everyone and escape routes

The way your lip slightly twitches when you try to keep a brave face

Your posture as you decided what to do

It’s all too familiar to him and them in a way that isn’t just coincidence

Especially not when all of them are Kenway

Not when he had been able to prove to them that fact through the experience of virtually living through their lives up until his death

“I’m not sure who the fuck all of you are but get out of my house.” Your fingers twitch and flex as your palms grow sweaty, the wood absorbing the pressure and moisture “especially my dead dad look-alike”

You all but confirm his suspicions

Their suspicions

And it looks Ike for you tonight will be much longer than you anticipated

Turns out that artifact you were studying wasn’t just as normal one

Neither were the other ones you looked at

The way they explained it as was their “artifacts from dead gods”, a fallen civilization that engineered humanity into being their slaves

It’s a lot to take in

Even more so when your suspicions of something bigger happening throughout global history with those odd deaths were real

Oh, and these were you dead ancestors and dad somehow back from the grave and now in your home

…..yeah safe to say that’s a lot to take in after an already very long and tiring shift

You sit there as they explain this, half asleep, and half exasperated

Cause how the hell are you supposed to believe all this bullshit that for some reason feels correct

Something in you tells you that their right yet your mind is fighting that logic

You’d always been a logical person, when it came to most situations you used your brain instead of your heart

And in those cases things ended up fine

But now your faced with this

A situation where your heart is screaming for you to listen as your brain tries to take this all in

Cause logic is completely out the window at the moment

For now you have to trust them even if your still afraid

I mean, how couldn’t you be?

But you get the sense that they understand

At least a little bit by how their also thrusted into a new environment without much say

Perhaps that (along with your own apprehension) is helping comfort them as well

So for now they’ll stay

Your just thanking (the dead) gods that grandma and grandpa’s old home is big enough for all of them

Altaïr Ibn-La’ Ahad

The oldest down the line of your dad’s side of your lineage finds himself often reading through your books in your study

It was a bit of a surprise one day entering it to find him sitting in a spare chair but you don’t mind the silent company

Especially as he seems to find interest in your studies

Occasionally he breaks the silence and asks you a question about the subject he’s reading about

He’s by far the oldest (even if he’s back in the body of his prime) of them therefore he’s the one who has the most figuratively to catch up on

So you indulge him

And also asks questions as well that he seems eager in answering

Knowledge connects you both, scholarly intellect being the bridge between the two of you despite centuries of time apart

Typically he asks about thinks such as modern life and what is know about his home, what happened to it? What it’s known of his era

You answer as best you can

Especially since that era of time isn’t exactly your forte

But he appreciates it anyways

Appreciates that you try, appreciates that you passionately care about history in the first place

Admittedly your mom was supportive but never understood your love of history

She’d listen to your rants and long conversations with a polite smile but you knew she never understood what you were talking about

But he does

He does and contributes whole heartedly in just as much passion

It’s nice

What’s also nice is that he’s studied the artifacts you now study as well

So now your both constantly coming up and developing ideas together

A constant back and forth

Hypotheses, discussion, and testing

Delving deeper into discovery like you’ve wanted

But with this he also helps you see where passion and obsession mix together

After the loss of his wife and son he delved into studying as a form of escape

It drove who was left away

Made the pit in his heart deeper

He doesn’t talk about it often but he seems to see how you may go down the same path

And he warns you of it

Unlike his younger self (that he now appears as) he’s wise if a little rough around the edges

He encourages knowledge but not to the point where it’s an all encompassing and toxic obsession

Within the household he seems to take a somewhat neutral but quiet role

He helps out and offers advice and guidance

Much like a teacher and grandfather of sorts

Speaking up when he has to and making sure the house doesn’t end up in disrepair

He seems to have a fascination with modern appliances, or at least holds a thankfulness for them

Like a few others he sticks to his robes most the time but you’ve seen him sport more modern clothes once awhile

Stuff still somewhat reminiscent of what he wore before but with a modern flare. Things with hoods and draping. Silks and wool. Something with an accent of red mixed in

Sometimes when you fall asleep in your studies you find a blanket draped over you and a cup of tea at your side

He won’t admit it’s him but he’s the only one who knows your tea preferences

He keeps his worry for you deep down but it’s somewhat relived when seeing that you take his warning of not taking the pursuit of knowledge too far

“It says here there was something called the “French revolution”. Would you care to explain what happened here to me?” He asks making you pause your work for a moment, when he sees your smile he knows your answer. Sure he read some of this book and got the gist of it, but something about seeing your eyes light up at his inquiry makes him feel at peace for a moment.

“Would I ever!”

Ezio Auditore da Firenze

This man is quite literally all up in your (and everyone’s) business

Not in an annoy way per say but he’s definitely curious about the lives his descendants have led (both good and bad)

Ezio is very clearly a family man and it’s somewhat ironic to see since half of this household has some sort of familiar issue

Most of which is some sort of daddy issue stemming from either Haythem or Edward that trickled down the line to you

Something that Ezio is seemingly trying to wrap his head around

Out of the others he’s the one who opens up the most

Partially because you think he misses his immediate family and friends

It must be a lot to handle being away from home, now in a foreign land where everything has changed

Despite that though he keeps a brave face

Almost always flashing a smile as he drags you from your study to have some “bonding time”

You won’t admit it to his face but you don’t mind

Especially as he gives your poor hunched over back a break

And treats your pallet to some good old fashioned (literally) Italian food and not cup ramen once again

He tried it once and threw your supply out, saying he’d be supplementing you with food from now on

You can’t exactly say your disappointment or upset from the heaven that is fresh baked garlic bread and pasta

He cooks not only for you but for the others of the house as well, saying his sister taught him lest he piss off his future lady

Taking in their suggestions and cooking foods from their homes as a way of him offering comfort

Whilst he does these tasks he often hums in his mother tongue of Latin

You don’t have the heart to tell him it’s a dead language

Especially when he seems so happy that you can somewhat understand it

He’s happily rambling and teaching you words

Helping you sound out phrases and pronunciation correctly unlike your Latin professor

Some of his songs he lightly sings under his breath get stuck in your head since he has a good singing voice

But despite the facade you see the cracks

Sometimes you find him looking at modern objects mumbling about how Leonardo would have loved to see this or made something similar

Or how Claudia would’ve liked this book

How Petruccio would have loved this toy

It….leaves a bitter taste in your mouth

Once upon a time you felt this same type of longing for family

Once a time you thought of you dad before going to bed and staring at his old Polaroid with hope

One that would never come to fruition (until now)

It’s why you indulge him, to keep his mind off the deeper plunge of melancholy

Compared to the others he’s relatively open to modernizing

In fact he seems somewhat excited in these things

Raiding your wardrobe like a damn fashionista and critiquing what’s good quality

He also has a wide variety of looks, not sticking to something similar to his time of dress

Versatile and somehow up to date? Your not sure how but somehow he’s in fashion?

Like he must’ve found a copy of vogue or something cause there is no way he just guessed that this was the new trend

When you pressure him on it he replies that he’s simply that amazing

You call bullshit but have yet to find evidence

But in the meantime you ask get him to tell you about Da Vinci and you furiously jot down what he says

Sometimes when he looks at you he sees flashes of Claudia’s quick wit

It makes him long for home yet as he looks at his descendants and ancestor he also feels….something

A small pit of warmth developing as he gets to know the inhabitants of this house longer

Meet Altair besides through a weird vision

His home is in Florence yet that feeling of comfort from the Villa is bleeding into these old (yet new) walls

“So this painting is his most famous work?” He asks looking at your computer with a bit of confusion, his scared lips quirking at the digital image.

“Yeah. This is actually probably the most famous painting in the world”

“Really? Of all his works this one is considered the best? I’m not doubting his skill but of all his pieces?”

“Believe me, I get it. It’s only this famous cause it was stolen”

“Stolen?!? Tell me who did it! I swear-”

Edward Kenway

For someone who was a feared pirate on the seas he’s surprisingly much less violent than you’d think him to be

Sure, he’s scary as hell still but at least he’s not stabbing you in the back and making off with your grandmas pearls or something

Still your a bit unnerved by him considering you did a project on him back in middle school and he’s now in your home

Munching on some god damn biscuits as if this was a normal situation

His son Haytham avoids his as best he can but he seems to bond with his grandson quite easily

Or more easily than he does with Haythem

It takes some time but you eventually go to him when you find him awake at the dead hours of night

A whisky bottle in hands as he occasionally takes a swig in silence as he stares out the window

You don’t talk

You don’t need to when he drinks in silence for awhile staring at the moon before eventually talking about the guilt

In his pursuit of power and gold he let people die

Greed woven into his soul as he sacrificed good men for his cause

He changed and did good yet his past haunts him

Hands stained red

Guilt eating away

A son who doesn’t want anything to do with him

At some point when he stops his rambles you speak

Reminding him that while his actions weren’t good he changed

It doesn’t wash the blood away but it stoped more from staining his hands

Though Haythem avoids him Connor is more than eager to fill his place

It doesn’t fix his overlying problems but it does help

In the morning he ends up talking with you more after this as your initial fear melts away

You end up seeing Edward Kenway, not the fiercesome captain of the Jackdaw

You see a man burdened by past mistakes and still wishes to do better

You see a human being at its core

With history it’s easy to forget the people your looking at was once alive and a breathing being

One who was just as flawed as you and I

But seeing a infamous pirate captain cry about issues pertaining not just time him made you remember that

He isn’t opposed to modernizing but seems to keep a certain sea-like touch to his appearance

Clothes for labourers and something loose is what he normally sticks to

He’s lucky though since he doesn’t exactly have traditional robes and can incorporate what he appeared in with a modern flair

Occasionally when he gets drunk he slurs out old shanties and talks about his epic tales

You might or might not have freaked the fuck out learning that James kidd was actually a woman

Mind blown

Ezio and Altair had to drag you away from your computer from writing an entire essay

Sitting on your countertop he holds a glass of whiskey in hand, one held out for you as you sit down beside him. The moon casts its gentle rays and lights the marble slab you both sit on. “I prefer Rum but this’ll do” it’s said in a playful tone that makes you nod and take a sip.

“I can grab some captain Morgan later…speaking of which, did you know him?

“No, but I did find a few of his things laying about “

“Care to tell?”

“Aye, sure thing”

Haytham Kenway

As the only Templar in this house it’s safe to say he’s definitely the outlier of the bunch

A relative lone wolf from the group that all hold some sort of Ill feelings towards him

From his father its confusion and sadness

The others it’s a mix of that and anger

From Connor it’s just plain…well your not quite sure how to describe it

The two’s entire family situation is just plain messy and thick with tension that their blades could cut through

But here’s the thing, in this house your also an outlier

A neutral zone so to say

Hell, the entire house seemed to be a haven of sorts from their whole Templar vs Assassin conflict

To be honest you don’t really care about this secret war

Well that’s a lie you are interested in these war of secret societies but you don’t specifically care to get involved in their politics

Not when you have business in interfering in it unless a fight breaks out and your telling everyone to calm the fuck down

So safe to say your kinda the only one who talks to Haytham

He is…well sometimes he’s a bit of an ass (in the British type of way) but at the same time he’s good conversation

Specifically when it comes to that of morals and philosophical beliefs

He is a conflicted man

A flawed one

But he holds his beliefs and morals despite the fact he’s been hurt and betrayed by a man he viewed as a mentor

He doesn’t talk about it much but he’s still hurt

Still seething with venom that burns his soul and flesh

Makes him want to lash out despite his upperclassman appearance and attitude

That despite it all he loves his son, so much so he willingly walked into what would be his death knowingly

That despite what happened he loves his dad yet can’t face him yet on account of what he became

What ideals and morals he still believes in even now

It’s perhaps he’s venting this to you rather than a journal because he knows you won’t judge him unfairly on the basis of what side your own

Your judging him as a flawed man and as an equally flawed person

It’s with him as well you open up about your own frustrations

How you still don’t know how to feel about this all

The fact that a lot of what you once knew was flipped on it’s head

Along with the fact your not even sure how to address your dad

It’s an entire mess but perhaps your both messed up together and that also draws you both to talking

To discuss your feelings of insucurity and confliction

To feel comfort that your not alone in not having your emotional shit in order

On some especially…emotional nights you both both have a cup of tea

He seems to enjoy that each time you use a different type, much of which used to be hard to obtain due to shipping and it’s prices

He hasn’t really yet grasped modern technology but your slowly helping him with it

It’s kinda like trying to teach a grandpa to figure out a phone, but now it’s him with the concept of a microwave

Like some of the others he’s yet to really also change his clothes to something modern

There has been a few times though he sported sweaters and vests

Your now working on helping his wardrobe since he prefers a sophisticated look

Occasionally he looks at the photos that line your walls, looking as you evolve through the ages

It’s…odd

With Connor he never had the chance to watch him grow

Never a snapshot to immortalize what he was like a child but now ones of you litter the walls like paintings

He feels melancholy

Yet at the same time he’s happy to get another chance maybe

One that is seemingly being helped by your gentle hand unknowingly

“I never thought about it until now but the stars are different” he says taking a sip of his matcha tea, he lets it pool on his tongue and experience the flavour. Not his favourite but not the worst

“That’s cause of light pollution here…though the stars do move so it it’s possible they’ve shifted position in the sky”

“Do they teach you about the stars in your schooling?”

“Yeah I took some. Not sure why, it just kinda spoke to me. Maybe it’s the Kenway blood”

Ratonhnhaké:ton/Connor Kenway

Of the group Connor is the most quiet and surprisingly the one whom you connect with the best for some reason

Perhaps it’s cause your both socially awkward in ways that let you relate

Or the fact you’ve both been ostracized by society for various reasons

His company is that of a quiet one but one you accept it with ease as you both sit and enjoy each others company

A quiet kinship made of unspoken but understood words from one another

The reminder that someone else is there and your not truly alone

He is perhaps the one you feel you can understand the most

And it’s the same likewise for him

Your both people deeply hurt and still bleeding internally

People raised by only their mother in a cruel and harsh world

People who were let down one way or another by their father

People who are still mad and angry but use that to further their determination

It’s odd but you feel truly understood

Like your soul was peeled back to reveal at your core your still a lone spirit lost in the world

One clinging to what they know as their only lifeline in this confusing and jumbled mess of a situation

The hulking 6 foot 2 man shows you trails near your home

Taking to the forest paths you’ve know your entire life and helping you discover even more about them

And while he does this he teaches you more about the world as you both walk the old beaten path

He tells you how to identify what type of tree is which, which stones are likely geodes and what tracks belong to who

It’s honestly petty interesting especially since he adds snippets of stories from his heritage

In return you talk about what you know as well

Snippets of your own knowledge that he seems to store into his mind just as you do with his stories

An equal exchange of sorts

On these walks you begin to notice he takes you out on these when your at your most stressed

The times in which your mind is overworking and consuming itself with anxiety

The times in which you need to breath

Connor doesn’t seem like one to vocally express his care but he does so through action

Small inconspicuous actions that mean a lot more than what meets the eye

It’s seems that his towards you is helping you when you need it most

Taking you away to just take a moment for yourself

To just breath in the fresh air and let the sunset coloured leaves of autumn crunch under your boots

Letting the cold breeze take away your worries

It’s perhaps better than any type of verbal support

Yet another unspoken action of care and compassion through knowing and watching

Of watching and knowing when you need a break

When you realize this and give him a small tired smile as a thanks he seems to know

Only giving a small nod with a minuscule smile of his own

It only grows bigger when you begin to ask him if his traditions, of the stories and practices of his people that he’s more than willing to tell when he knows you ask out of genuine curiosity and respect

Connor is somewhat 50/50 in modernizing

He adapts quite well but still needs help with certain things as he navigates the situation

But like usual he is anything but resourceful as he watches what you do and figures it out

He helps the others quite a bit with what he’s picked up and somewhat takes pride in the fact he can help them

Whilst he’s privy to wearing his robes he isn’t against more modern clothes

The only problem though is sometimes finding stuff that fits him considering he’s not only a giant but also fairly muscular

But your both eventually able to find some stuff for him to wear that he likes

He really appreciates though that you try to buy clothes and jewelry from nearby indigenous peoples

It might not be his but he appreciates the sentiment and familiarity that the beaded jewelry give him

“I’ve lived here my whole life and walked down these paths a thousand times yet it seems more like your the local here” you say with amusement as you follow Conner through an area you’d be never been before.

He smiles, it’s small but there as he adds “just a matter of perspective. You see the paths your used to and I see ones you hadn’t noticed”

Desmond Miles

Yeah so this is entirely awkward for you

Like how the fuck do you emotionally deal with this and the fact your very dead dad who didn’t know you existed till now is now very alive

And living in your house with his very dead ancestors that are also now alive

Case and point you don’t, specifically you ignore the problem and act like everything is fine

You lock yourself away and try to avoid him like the plague

Somehow Scurry past him and into the kitchen to grab something before returning to your abode to eat

But then things got complicated

Things change

You began talking to the others

Slowly coming out the darkness of your study and joining the dinner table

But you still try to avoid him

It feels like the sight of him burns your mind, all those nights as a kid coming back to you

The hope and then disappoint in learning he died and that he likely never wanted you

Your mother never said this but the other kids did. They always teased and picked at the fact you were a mistake

It’s why you push so hard now to be the best, To prove them wrong (to prove to yourself that your worth existing)

The fact is that now he’s here and you don’t know how to deal with that

How would you even start?

What do you even say to him?

You quiet down when he enters a room because you don’t know what to do

Whatever your about to say dying in your throat like a caged bird and all that came come out are garbled noises as you evade him

Eyes casting down to your hands like a child averting their gaze from their parent when in trouble (he is your dad so it’s the same thing right?)

Leaving the room he’s in as quickly as you can once a take is done

The others notice quick, I mean how can’t they? A damn butter knife can cut through the tension

The whole thing with Haytham and Connor is less tense than this

But what can you even do?

How in thick do you talk to him and how can he even talk to you?

Your 18 and in university, he’s 25 and was a bartender in New York before apparently sacrificing himself for the world

He’s closer in age to being a big brother rather than your dad.

But even besides that he’s been long dead and gone since 2012

It’s been years since that point and more importantly he’s someone important and your not

He’s an assassin born to a bloodline of other assassins

Someone who was raised in this tradition with greatness not only in his origin but also in his death

And your you

A child born from a one night stand who’s only achievement is being good at knowing about old people

It hurts but it’s true

If he’s a star then your a candle compared to his light

A mere blip or spark to the greater picture

There had been times he looked like he wanted to say something but you scurry away before he can say anything

Sometimes you catch the looks and small gestures Ezio tries to make as if to encourage him to go up to you

How Connor sometimes brings up to you how he wishes for reconciliation with his dad and that perhaps it’s possible with your own

Altair not beating around the bush and plainly telling both him and you to talk

But it all feels for naught and dies when those feelings and thoughts return

But eventually he corners you

Well not really corners you per say but he catches you as you leave your study after a talk with Altair

“Listen I don’t have any grudge against you. For one you died, I’d be a dick if I blamed you for that or your decision to save the world and whatever. Second you didn’t know about me in the first place” you say briefly looking up at him before averting your gaze, he looks like he wants to say something but he can’t get a word out before you continue “but you don’t have to act like my dad or anything. You never asked for me, it was a mistake, I was a mistake and I’m fine with it.” (Your lying to yourself)

You leave before he can get a word out, and he’s left alone in the hallway. When he returns to Ezio he just sits down in silence. It’s enough for everyone to know I didn’t go the way he wanted.

Admittedly when you begin to notice odd figures at the achieves you write it off

I mean it could literally be anyone plus the supervisors aren’t making a fuss about them here

If anything their welcoming them and looking at them with hopeful eyes

Small glances full of opportunities in them

It’s odd but maybe their just some non-profit here to support the archive

Or even private benefactors of sorts

But then they turn their attention to you

Plastic smiles on their faces, artificial pleasantries as their main spokeswoman sits in front of you in a slick suit

Her stilettos tapping against the ground as your eyes trail to her bodyguards of sorts

They stand not too close nearby

Watching

Waiting

And then she begins talking

And slowly you grow more and more uncomfortable

Hands playing with one another, fingers twitching in your palm as crescent are indebted in your skin

They apparently are interested in your findings

In your research

But more specifically you

They’ve researched you…a lot

Down from where your mother was born to her great great something grandfather

And your father

…but that’s not public knowledge

It wasn’t even on your birth certificate

This….this isn’t

She smiles though now the darkness melts away into something more knowing

Dangerous and sadistic of sorts

And it’s there on her little pin showing her name you recognize the logo

Within your house you’d vaguely heard whispers of the others talking in hushed tones

You didn’t mind

The less you know the better in that sense

Out of sight and out of mind

But sometimes you’d hear the mumbles of a name that you didn’t put together until now

One spat with venom just as they did with the word of the Templar

Abstergo

You barely have time to react before your black bagged and sufficiently knocked out

Mind drifting to that of panic

What would happen to you?

What will happen when the others find out?

But then those thoughts fade away into the dark void of sleep

When you wake up things are odd

Everything is a sterile white and too bright for your foggy sleep tinged eyes

The room is blurred as is your senses as you weightlessly drift

Everything feels odd

And then it happens sharp and pure pain that leaves you writhing and screaming into the void

And that’s when you notice that white light had left and your in a void of sorts

Empty glitching effects all around you as your left to look around in confusion until you see something

A memory? Specifically one of your memories

Your staring at a simulation of sorts of your past self

A 8 year old in their bed with chubby cheeks pulled up into a melancholy smile

You recognize this moment, your small hands holding a picture that had long been put away into a scrapbook and forgotten

Your left wordless and confused

And then that bitch’s voice appears again and she explains

This entire thing is a simulation of your memories

And essentially their gonna go through your head picking through them to not only learn what they want but then use you as their lab rat cause of your bloodline.

Cause apparently memories of your ancestors could be accessed that way and it was generally easier to have a descendant rather than finding objects and artifacts

And it’s there in that simulation it feels like your mind is being ripped apart

Memories ripped from your mind to play out in front of you as she makes comments and documents them before their forced back in and another is ripped out

Like book having pages torn out and then crudely stitched back in

It hurts so damn much

Over and over

Your just left in screaming again on the ground of this simulated world as she makes idol comments

Left begging for it to stop

For someone to help

For the love of god someone help you make it stop

Of course this would happen to you

You’ve always had shit luck despite your whole family motto being “make your own luck”

What utter bullshit

You can’t make good luck from bad

Can’t just change things when the scales are already tipped one way

But then like a miracle from above she goes quiet and suddenly the memory is gone

And your left in the void still reeling from it all

Still on the glitching ground before once more white encompasses your view

Blinding and bright as your still recovering

And then an unfamiliar voice tunes in

“Your safe” it’s heavily accented, in an Irish twang that’s soft as he says these words to you. A reminder that your ok now, it’s over. “Can you walk?”

You try to look at him with squinting eyes yet they still can’t adjust, your limbs feel heavy like solid rock. Unmoving even as you try. With some difficulty you shake your head

“Aight, I’ll have you carry you then. Are you alright with that?”

“Just get me out of here…please. I just want to go home, I miss my family” it sounds pathetic but as tears begin to fall the stranger doesn’t seem to think Ill of you.

“Don’t worry, I get what that’s like.” The tone is sympathetic and like before is soft “you’ll be home I no time, I promise”

You think for a moment before responding “I trust you”. For a second you feel him go still at that before he picks you up.

For awhile there’s buzzing alarms and panic as your saviour gets you out whoever’s you were taken too

There’s not a moment of silence as he sharply runs and dodges past what you think to be gunshots

Occasionally he grumbles something but for the most part he seems calm

Composed despite the chaos of it all

So much so that it makes you wonder if this is an average Tuesday for him

There’s so much shout and yelling for your already pounding head

But sometimes the yells are silenced as the sound of a blade cuts it short

Footsteps far behind eventually stopping

Sirens getting more and more distant and allowing you and the man to breath

It’s there in the pocket of silence you learn his name

Shay

It sounds familiar, like really familiar yet you can’t put your finger on it

Either way your grateful because how can you not be?

Your away from that place

Away from the torture of having your mind picked apart like a lab experiment

Having the privacy of your memories looked at and prodded

But now your somewhat okay

Your eyes feel weird, your vision feels weird like it keeps switching between something

Your at least somewhat able to walk though it’s unbalanced

but Shay doesn’t seem to mind

He offers an arm that you cling to for support

A kind smile on his face as he makes sure you didn’t injure yourself further

And then you notice his clothes are….old

Like Haytham and Connor level old

And…shit

It’s halfway home through the trails you recognize due to Connor that your vision changes

The world feels bigger as if your third eyes opened or something

Shays figure and presence is highlighted in a clover green

And perched nearby is another green figure, one waiting for a good moment

Shay follows your sight before promptly having to duck out the way from a knife that flies at his head

He pushes you back behind him, you stumble back vision switch between monochrome and normal as someone else grabs you

Instinctively you almost yell before realizing who was now helping keep you steady

And the other person now attacking Shay

“Connor! He’s good! He saved me!”

“He’s a Templar!”

“So is Haytham and you haven’t killed him…again have you!”

At that Shay pauses, turning to look at you with confusion as Connor stops his attempt as slitting his throat

Ezio on the other hand helps you up but keeps a firm protective grip

Watching Shays movements like Connor in apprehension before the two settle down and stare at you for more detail

Both waiting on your word

“He saved me and today has been a long ass day-“

“You’ve been gone for 4 days”

You pause momentarily at that before adding “long 4 ass days of having my mind literally ripped apart. Can we please head back to the house and settle this there? Thank you”.

The moment you get back your almost immediately tackled to the ground by a familiar white and red hoodie wearing absent (dead) father

It’s….odd but nice

Desmond (still feels too awkward to call him dad) is holding you like a lifeline and you notice bags beneath his eyes

He looks like hell

But none of the others are any better either

They all like positively exhausted yet light up when seeing your safe

Your home

It reminds you of your mom when you returned home from school

The long work day evident on her brow but her smile lighting up the room at the sight of your face

It’s no different compared to then except for the fact they all (except Haytham) then protectively pull you away from the nearby Shay who’s being glowered at by Connor

Safe to say it’s a little awkward until you somehow pull free of Desmond’s death grip hobble your ass between the two lone Templars and Assassins

A long discussion having to take place between them all as you not only explain what happened but also it seems you all forget one crucial thing

It seems you forgot about your mom’s side of the family

Whoop de Doo you have more things to process and so does everyone else here

Specifically Connor and Haytham Because before apparently knew (or know of) Shay

Great, another complex relationship in this household like there needed to be more of that

But with this entire situation it also highlights something bigger

Your not safe

None of you are safe

Perhaps you never truly were

And that in turns leaves you with the difficult decision of what to do next

Because In this difficult game of politics between two ever warring groups your a neutral force

You wanted to stay that way but unfortunately fate had other plans

as your drug into this game your left with limited options of sides for not only yourself but for the others who seem keen on following you

Even the two (former?) templars seem to follow your decision

So When Des…er your dad suggests finding his old friends it seems like the best option

It’s either that or be kidnapped and prodded again and who knows what abstergo will do to everyone else (even one’s that once upon a time we’re on their side)

Besides, he says you’ll get along well with someone named Shaun so It can’t be too bad

So he sends out a message and you leave the home you find yourself look at with melancholy

It stopped being a home when mom died but now it seemed like it was just that again

Only time can tell what will bring upon you next

But….you think you’ll be ready for whatever is thrown at you when you have this odd group of family at your side

The expression of blood is thicker than water never really held much weight since you only ever had your mom until she was gone

But maybe you understand it a bit better now

#platonic #assassins creed x reader #assassins creed imagine #desmond miles x reader #ezio auditore x reader #ezio x reader #altair x reader #connor kenway x reader #haytham kenway x reader #shay cormac x reader #edward kenway x reader

[demigoddessqueens]

Haytham having a breakdown from all the shit he went through with his sister, Jim and Birch and his fem!s/o comforting him? he just needs to cry, scream and get all that grief out

Thank you for your request anon!

A/N - honestly EVERY SINGLE one of them needs to, down to the whole family line starting with Altair

If he were to ever cry; first, it’s a rarity in it’s own way because Haytham and feelings are an unlikely duo.

And then second, don’t tell anyone else you’ve seen him like this. He couldn’t bear anyone else learning this side of him.

The most you could do for him now is just be there for him.

No empty promises, just comfort and whatever reassurances the remnants of a steel heart can salvage.

It’s pitiful, it’s tragically beautiful but you’re at a loss of what to say.

Gut-wrenching cries and sobs that can only be ripped from the depths of where one’s soul and heart are. Or what’s left of it.

You place a gentle hand on broad shaking shoulders.

There’s little you know of his background but from the scraps you heard in passing, there’s a cold air of loss that perpetually surrounds this man.

The tear drops decorate your shoulder in splotches where he’s hidden his face.

Murmurs of names unfamiliar to you chip away at your exterior because of how Haytham says them. You didn’t know there were others he held close to him.

#assassin’s creed x reader #inbox request #assassin’s creed iii #haytham kenway imagine #haytham kenway x reader #assassin’s creed rogue #haytham x reader #my writing #headcanons #ac rogue #haytham kenway #ac iii #haythamkenway

[haytham-loves-chocolate]

A small draft I’ve thought about (sappy prompt #16 is included somewhat in this)

“Why can’t I kiss you? Why won’t you let me kiss you?”

Her cries silently breaks his heart, seeing him walk away without a glimpse or touch of affection. His body turns to see her posture tensed, her hands clenched into fists then back to hands, her glossy eyes, her biting her lip, the anxiety of all this finally getting to her. That she feels like she isn’t loved by the one she gives her all for.

“You know I’m always here for you.” He tries to calm the situation, which only makes her angrier.

“You’re not now. Right now, I don’t know what the future is going to be for us, for me. And I’m afraid. Afraid to lose you, lose me, my mind, and, I wish I could go back in time to see you again. I want to so badly, don’t you see?”

“You have never been touched.” His hands close together behind his back, and his demeanor, his lips, the furrow of his eyebrows. It’s like he can read her through. “A gentle hug, to let your heart out. Would you like me to do that?”

“I, I think it’s what I need, yes.” She wipes the tears that dare to drop down her cheeks with the palm of her hand, and her fingers brush off the ones stuck on the baggy eyes of hers. More like veins bulging through the skin, to make a line of purple under her eyes.

He doesn’t need to say anymore words, as her feet start to walk, her tears streaming down her face, and finally feels release in his arms. His gentle hug, breaks her down into a broken shell, a part of herself that was begging to exist now does. He doesn’t move, doesn’t flinch, just there, is he. He rocks her side to side, slowly as he hears her cries. Her head falls on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, trying her best to calm down.

“Let it all out, love.”

That sentence sends her reassurance, a calming reminder that she has someone to cry on. That his touch is… loving, caring, and a peaceful one.

#haytham kenway #assassins creed 3 #assassins creed #assassins creed iii #ac3 #i love you haytham #angst prompt #my prompts #writing prompts #May or may not be a part of Enola’s Journal #haytham x reader #Haytham x oc

[reddeaddamnation]

welcome back to the writing side of tumblr! idk if you’ve written something like this, bc i can’t find your masterlist, but how would the assassins or at least my baby ezio act when they find out assassin!reader is pregnant with their child but still taking on missions and possibly putting themselves in danger, no matter how good they are at their job xx

Thank you it's good to be back. I missed you guys and your creative ideas lol I don't remember writing anything like this so there you go

Basim would be like nah nuh-uh. You say in bed and take care of yourself because in his culture a woman who is pregnant is sacred and needs to take care of herself. The most you can do is go to the market if you won't have any trouble with walking. If you're in discomfort - he will go with you.

Eivor would try to explain to you the dangers of the missions as if you don't know already and would kindly and politely tell you to think about your child because he will be devastated if something happens to either of you.

Alexios' jaw would just drop and he would have no idea what to even say. "Please don't." He would just say in a monotone voice but with the most pleading eyes you ever saw him pull off. He wants to say so much but doesn't even know where to start, because he was shocked when he found out.

Bayek would sit you down and lecture you in a rather angry tone because he had flashbacks of when he saw his own son die so he will NEVER allow it to happen again. "I'm very disappointed that you don't know how to take care of yourself in this condition. What came over you?"

Altair would cut you off mid-mission and would tell you to turn back or else. He will take care of the mission instead of you if you promise to not put your head in danger and don't be stubborn because he can be more stubborn and will not budge until you accompany him back to your home. No matter how long you spend in that one place he met you.

Ezio would be like "WHAT" and chase you down hoping he isn't too late and would give you the lecture of your life. "You know you're more important to me than anything. Now that you are carrying our child, I will worry about both of you and will not forgive you if you put the two of you in danger again. The baby did not choose to be here. Think about it."

Connor would be so disappointed. Honestly how will you look at him and still do it? He asked you to take care of yourself and rest and here you are putting yourself in danger. Usually he communicates everything but this time you get the silent treatment for at least a few hours.

Edward would sigh and say "I ask you for one thing and one thing only. Stay. Out. Of. Danger. Don't you realize what you're doing?" He wouldn't show his true anger tho and would leave you with your thoughts for a few hours.

Arno would pace around all day and when you come back, he will nag you to oblivion. "What do you think you're doing? Why? What do you want to prove? Is our child less important than the damn brotherhood? I can't stop you if you don't want to quit but at least think about what you're doing."

When Jacob found out you want to come on the mission too, Evie begged him to tell you to reconsider. He just walked past the both of you like "Y/N you're not coming." in a stern voice, leaving you shocked. "If you're so adamant on coming, I think you should think about the consequences" Jacob? Consequences? Don't go, for the sake of this nice change in him!

Shay would be angry. So angry and so stern. "You know the consequences if anything were to happen to you and I can't be there to say anything except I told you so because we both know what will happen if you keep going on like this. Instead of resting and staying safe, you go out of your way to put yourself in danger. You're acting like a child."

Haytham would just sigh and rub the bridge of his nose. "Don't make me lock you in our room with guards outside because if you don't have the decency to keep yourself safe, I will."

#assassins creed #basim ibn ishaq x reader #eivor x reader #alexios x reader #bayek of siwa x reader #altair ibn la ahad x reader #ezio auditore x reader #connor kenway x reader #edward kenway x reader #shay cormac x reader #haytham kenway x reader #arno dorian x reader #jacob frye x reader

[wyyvernn]

I havent requested a fic since a few years ago. If anyone is able, please write more Haytham x reader preferably where they just bicker back and forth until they say fuck it and kiss and do cute shit

#haytham kenway #haytham kenway x reader #haytham x reader #assassins creed 3 #assassins creed

[bloodhaven99]

…more hugs :3

#haytham kenway #haytham kenway x reader #assassin's creed #I procrastinated this as usual #assassin’s creed iii #ac3 #older haytham kenway #my arty art