#jacob frye fanfiction | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ahungeringknife · 7 months

Text

365 May 3-6

After a point Desmond just came to the understanding that his life was weird and he really didn't feel like arguing with it anymore. Coming back from the dead? Near death? Limbo? Whatever did that to a person. He was so beyond his life throwing arguably impossible shit at him.

"I'm home," he said looking at the living room of his apartment that absolutely should not fit as many people in it as it did. And yet.

The first week it'd happened he was sure he was having a new mental break down. But no. That'd have been a reasonable explanation for a bunch of murderers showing up at his door looking like people out of a ren fair. He didn't know why they were there. They didn't know why they were there. When Desmond asked they just grabbed his blackened hand or arm. They were drawn to it. Somehow? For some reason?

Seven languages all roughly saying, "Welcome back," came in a chorus. They could all understand him at least. Whatever fucked up magic or whatever had given him that at least so he didn't have to sift through seven different tongues in his head to pull out the one he wanted.

"I brought bread," he said which got everyone interested. He didn't anticipate people from previous centuries to be picky eaters but they absolutely were. And that didn't even cover Ezio's insanely high standards for olive oil, which he basically drank. But everyone ate bread. Thank god. He always had to go down a few blocks for an actual bakery because of course they wouldn't eat store bread. The bakery knew him on sight now since he'd been going there every other day for a month and bought the exact same arrangement of bread. When they saw him coming in they just packed up his order for him.

"Everyone get their shit done while I was gone?" he asked amid some talking. Some of them could communicate but it was a near thing. Some of them even spoke English, which was cool.

"It was boring, but yes," Ezio said.

"Good. Who wants to make dinner?" Desmond asked, going into the kitchen and taking the bread out.

"Everyone stop looking at me," Evie said. "Just because I'm a woman."

Desmond didn't engage while Jacob was defending his sister's honor, or whatever. After a bit of bickering he called out, "Fine then we're all going to be unhappy and Altair will cook." There was some groaning.

"Fools," Altair said and Desmond was the only one who understood. He got up from where he was sitting on the floor and entered the little kitchen with Desmond. "My cooking isn't that bad... now," he added. Altair, like the rest of them, were not how Desmond remembered them from the memories as mostly wild and blood thirsty twenty-somethings. They were all older. In their thirties or forties. It was still weird seeing Altair in a beard. At least he wore it better than Ezio.

"Yeah you don't burn my pans now," Desmond said. Desmond still helped him figure out what to do. They all knew how to use the appliances by now but other than Connor, Bayek, and Evie none of them had ever had to cook for themselves until they'd shown up in Desmond's life. But like good Assassins they all took to instruction quickly and Desmond just had to tell them what to do and they figured it out.

"How much longer are we staying here?" Arno had come around to the kitchen while Altair was cutting onions with freakish laser precision. Desmond wasn't sure Altair couldn't understand French but he always acted like he couldn't so he didn't push it.

"I dunno. Until you guys fucking leave?" Desmond said. Who knew when that would be. Who knew why that would be or how!

Arno gave him an annoyed look. "I know that. But this is unsustainable," he motioned to the living room which had all the furniture shoved into the corners to make enough room for everyone to sleep. Desmond's bedroom also had some sleeping space on the floor. "Even at our lowest this is too much."

"Well if I want to break my lease I need to pay a fee. And then I have to find a new place that I can afford. And if you guys all fucking vanish one day I'm going to be in a big place all by myself unable to pay. I don't mind having roommates from former head mates but actual normal people? I'd rather die."

"That can be arranged," Altair said behind him.

"Shut it, you," Desmond frowned at him but Altair wasn't even looking at him.

Arno was also frowning. "Well perhaps it would be more useful if we put our minds to figuring out what happened to bring us here instead of what you have us doing."

"If you want to go ahead but I can't afford to feed someone who isn't helping," Desmond said, folding his arms. Because magic that they could all understand his spoken English they could also understand written English. Desmond had found all of them some reasonable paying translation gig work. Desmond knew they all hated it but also had no idea what to do in this century, let alone how to cross a street without almost being run over by a car.

Arno also folded his arms and mirroring Desmond. "I am not a stranger to hardship. But I'm tired of waking up with someone's feet in my face. Also Jacob snores; loudly," he put a pained look on his face.

Desmond grimaced. He could sympathize. Before he could keep going with Jacob Altair tugged his sleeve. He turned around. "Is this right?" and it was still so baffling hearing a hard ass like Altair ask him something so kindly.

Desmond looked over the chopped vegetables Altair had in the pan. He'd added raisins. Always with the fucking raisins with Altair. "Looks fine. Don't cook it too long or it'll turn to mush." He turned back to Jacob. "Look I'm not unsympathetic. I just don't know what to do myself," he said.

"Can we help you? Clearly we're supposed to be here? So we should help you."

Desmond sighed, "I would love that but none of you know how to use a computer."

"... A what?"

"Exactly."

"Is that the little glass tablet you carry around with you?" Arno asked.

"Yes."

Arno looked conflicted. "It seems... confusing but I'm willing to figure it out if it gets me into an actual bed."

"Fine," Desmond said and already knew it was going to give him a headache. "This weekend when I'm free."

Arno smiled. "Great," and he walked off.

Desmond sighed dramatically. "Punk," Altair grumbled, or about as close an approximation as Desmond could translate out.

"I knew you could speak French," and Desmond punched his arm.

"My wife is French, of course I can," Altair said with a grunt. "His accent is so snooty. I hate it."

"He's Parisian," Desmond said.

"No wonder he sounds like a prick," Altair grumbled and Desmond laughed.

--------

Having seven people crowding your space while trying to use your laptop was... something. It sure was something. Somehow they all managed to perch around him without getting in each other's way too and were all staring intently at the screen. Desmond had been talking to them, very slowly, for about three hours now explaining how a computer worked. He typically had all their translation work printed out and then on his days off typed it all into the programs or emails for the clients.

Surprisingly the one who seemed to understand it the best were the two old guys Altair and Bayek. Bayek was especially insane because he was from before the common era. Like the numbers ticked down on the grand time line of human civilization from where Bayek was from. Desmond wasn't particularly surprised by Altair who'd had his head in the future through the Apple for decades. That didn't mean either of them were good at it but they asked the least questions when he asked if they understood.

"I think that's about as much as I can just explain. You have to try it now. Who wants a go?" Desmond asked. He expected Arno to immediately volunteer. Hadn't he been the one excited to help him find a new apartment?

"I do," Bayek said.

"Weren't they still playing with sticks and rocks in your time?" Jacob asked, not knowing what Bayek was saying but getting the idea. Evie smacked his arm, hard, making him complain.

"Sit," Bayek sat. "It's light, hold onto the keyboard area so it doesn't fall off your lap," Desmond said and put the laptop on Bayek's crossed legs. There was a moment of confusion as Bayek figured out how to use the touch pad but then he got it. "I'm surprised you're at all good with this," Desmond said casually.

His answer absolutely floored Desmond. "This is nothing compared to the Isu ruins." Desmond hadn't personally lived through Bayek but he'd been told the story. Bayek was really good at telling stories. "That is actual confusing shit."

"What'd he say?" Ezio asked.

"He said it's nothing compared to Those Who Came Before," he said. "Didn't know Egypt had that sort of tech involvement with the Isu," he said thoughtfully.

"Ask him if it's as easy as it appeared when you did it," Arno said.

Desmond did and relayed it back while Bayek was clicking around on the computer and internet. "He said it's like reading a scroll where the words and pictures move with your thoughts."

"How poetic," Arno said.

"I also wanna try," Evie said.

"Yes, and I," Ezio said.

"Give him a few minutes," Desmond said.

"The keyboard is... confusing. I know what these letters mean but their arrangement is-- quite stupid," Bayek said.

"Yeah, basically," Desmond agreed.

"It also hurts my eyes."

"Yeap. It'll do that too," and he took the laptop back. Then Evie got to mess around with it while Bayek rubbed his eyes. He hadn't blinked the entire time. Then it was Ezio's turn once she'd had a go at it.

"Is there a way to see these mmm- webbed sites in Italian?" Ezio asked.

"Sort of? Just type into the text box in Italian. It should pull up Italian sites."

Watching Ezio pick and poke through what he wanted to ask Google was excruciating. "Ha! Italian," and he scrolled through the search results. Desmond leaned over to see what he was looking at.

"Hey!" Desmond snatched the laptop away. He switched into Italian himself to scold him and god he sounded a lot like Claudia by the way Ezio wilted. "Don't look up boobs on my fucking laptop. Of course I leave you alone for a minute and you're trying to see some tits. What are you? Seventeen again?"

He was going to have to put child locks or something on this thing so these Assassins didn't give his laptop a fucking virus looking up porn. "What can I say. I'm a man of simple pleasures?" Ezio said with a wry grin.

"Banned," Desmond pointed at him in annoyance.

He let everyone try out the laptop. No one was as taken with it as Bayek and Connor somehow almost broke it. Arno at least came away from the lesson and hands on part being slightly confidant in using it. Everyone also complained it hurt their eyes. Because none of them blinked while using the laptop. Blue light was hell of a thing.

They dispersed after that. Bayek, who still sat next to him, said, "Can you show me more things?"

"Sure? Like what?"

"I want to know what happened to Egypt," he said. "And the Romans. And the Greeks. Are they still around?"

"Well Ezio is what you could call Roman," Desmond said slowly. "He lived in Rome, the city, for a while."

"Is Rome no longer an empire?"

Desmond chuckled, "Buddy, they wish."

"... I would like to see what made Rome fall," he said, not in a sad way but rather he was very interested. "And what happened to Julius," his eyes narrowed.

"You're going to love what happened to Cesare," Desmond said and pulled up some wikipedia articles. He showed Bayek how to navigate the site, what the colors meant, what the little numbers next to words meant, and the sources at the bottom. After that Bayek was glued to it. "And make sure you blink," Desmond added. Bayek nodded.

Desmond got off the couch and wandered into his room, flopping down onto his bed. That had taken so long. He picked up his phone and looked at it. It was only mid afternoon. He had a few missed texts. It looked like they were from work. He ignored them. He wasn't paid enough to answer texts on his day off.

----

Desmond was used to being watched at this point even if he couldn't see them. Didn't bother him. This time when he looked across the Goodwill it was Jacob staring right at him looking like he was dying while Evie was trying to find some clothes. Seemed that even after a few hundred years brothers still would rather die than shop with their sisters. He chuckled to himself and went back to ignoring him.

Desmond was more concerned with convincing Bayek and Connor that no they couldn't just walk around shirtless or tank tops all the time.

"But it will get in the way of my movement," Bayek said about the long sleeved shirt Desmond was trying to get him in. It was summer so was pretty warm and Bayek had never existed in any sort of cold weather in his life. His logic was sound for Egypt.

"Yeah but you can't enter most stores without a shirt, dude," Desmond said. Connor was more accepting of full shirts having grown up around Westerners but Desmond remembered being in his head. He always felt too big for in his clothes. Especially Achilles' old uniform that he'd nearly ripped several times from just how thick his arms were.

"But it's hot out. We don't need sleeves until later in the year," Connor said.

"What'd he say?" Bayek asked and Desmond repeated it. Honestly a lot of the time he was just repeating what everyone said so any two of them could hold a conversation. "Why would the time of year matter?"

"Winter?"

"... What is that?"

Desmond pinched the bridge of his nose. "Think like the flood season but instead it gets cold."

"It would get cold in Egypt sometimes," Bayek said.

"No like water turns into ice," Desmond explained.

"But it's not like that now? And there's so much clothes here surely I won't want for them," Bayek said. Everyone had been pretty stunned when Desmond had brought them to Goodwill and it was just filled with more clothes than any of them had seen in one place.

"In winter cold weather clothes tend to go quick," Desmond said.

"Hmm-

"Desmond," he looked over at Evie's voice as she came through the aisle. Jacob was sulking a ways away.

"Sup."

"My brother is useless as ever. I need input on these modern clothes," she said.

"Sure."

Evie showed him two shirts. They looked pretty nice and were fairly subdued, which he expected. One was a feathery blouse, the other was a thin sweater. They complimented her skin color. Desmond didn't know a lot about fashion but he'd seen enough women come into a bar to know what was good. "Which one?"

"I like them both," Desmond said.

"That is not helpful," she said.

Desmond reached over and grabbed the tags. They were both five bucks each. "Do you like them?"

"Yes."

"Then you can get both-

"What?" she asked, confused. "But these are so fancy and high quality," she said. Desmond knew the Industrial Revolution had been going on during Evie's time but fast fashion was a hell of a thing.

"It's fine, they're just a few dollars-

"That's expensive! Are you sure?" she asked.

He chuckled. "Yeah. If you like them we can get them. Make sure you find some bottoms you like too to match."

"Are you really sure?" she asked.

"Yes. And tell your brother to stop looking like a creep and pick out some clothes too," Desmond said.

She rolled her eyes. "He knows no other way. But yes, thank you," she held the clothes to her and walked off.

"Those are expensive though, are you sure?" Connor asked. He understood modern money better than Bayek who was ignoring them and looking at clothes.

"It's about the equivalent of fifteen cents," Desmond said, knowing Connor would understand that.

"Oh! Really?"

"Yeah. Inflation is hell of a thing-- don't worry about it, it's economics," he told Connor who just looked so confused.

"I think I like this one," Bayek said and Desmond sighed when he pulled out the most Dad shirt he could have found. It was a tie die tank top. "Finally something brightly colored. This time is so drab," he scoffed. The worst part was Desmond knew he'd absolutely wear it.

"Okay," Desmond said, defeated. Then he groaned at the sound of some very angry Arabic a few rows over. "Now what?" he looked and saw Ezio harassing Altair about... something? "Excuse me. Before Altair kills his biggest fan boy," Desmond said. "Find a shirt that fits you, Connor," he told Connor and went over to where Altair very nearly had his hands on Ezio's neck.

Desmond easily slotted himself between the two of them. "What's this about?" he asked.

"Ezio says I dress like a woman," Altair pointed at Ezio furiously.

"... What? Also how do you know what he's saying?"

"He's just speaking a different version of Latin," Altair said. "That isn't the point!"

Desmond turned to Ezio. "Did you say he's dressing like a girl?"

"I said he'd look like a fancy lady with his dress," Ezio said and yeah Desmond got why Altair was about to kill him.

"Take like twenty steps back while I defuse this bomb you made," Desmond told Ezio.

"I resent that," Altair growled at him.

Ezio did step back and Desmond turned around to him. "So what did he get you about?" Altair raised a shapeless dress that was very much a dress but it was also shaped like a thobe which was traditionally exactly what an old guy like Altair would wear. "Looks like a thobe to me," Desmond said, realizing what Altair was going for.

"Yes. That's what I tried to tell him."

"But it's a dress too."

"So?"

"Look I don't care," Desmond raised his hands before Altair bit his head off. "You'll get looks if you wear that though and I know you hate being perceived." Altair grimaced at that. "If you want a thobe I'll order you one or find one at a Middle East bodega or something but you should just find some pants and a shirt." Altair huffed in annoyance. "Yeah I know, you hate rules. Get over it," Desmond rolled his eyes.

"I am more annoyed you know me better than myself at times," Altair grumbled, arms folded. "Same as the rest."

"Trust me I really wish I didn't. Either way, we can still get it if you want but I would suggest pants."

"Fine," Altair huffed.

"Connor, Connor," he heard Bayek calling from the end of the aisle. At the least that was something they could do. Desmond watched Connor join Bayek down the aisle and Bayek triumphantly held up an old sleeveless Laker's jersey. Desmond snickered imagining Connor's face of horror at the yellow and purple monstrosity. Connor for his part waved his hands like he didn't want it.

An hour or so later Desmond was finally in line for check out with the others. Evie had taken what he'd said to heart and found a bunch of stuff but everyone else was still too stunned by the variety to pick more than three or four pieces. The cashier was pleasant and had clearly seen weirder shit than a guy like Desmond shepherding a bunch of adults forward to have their clothes rung up and then put into individual bags. The total wasn't even that bad for buying clothes for seven people. The more modern Assassins still gasped or gagged at the price but Desmond didn't flinch at the hundred and seventy dollar price tag.

"That had to be wrong," Connor said once they were leaving.

"What was?" Desmond asked.

"The price-

"You said not to worry. That was a fortune!" Evie cried.

"It was like five dollars," Desmond said.

"That's not what the cash register said," Evie insisted.

"It's the equivalent of five dollars," Desmond rolled his eyes.

"Seriously?" Jacob asked.

"Yes. Seriously."

"That's still a lot of money," Arno said.

"For seven people buying clothes that is a steal. I've seen people buy a single shirt for five dollars," and he chuckled when Evie, Jacob, Arno, and Connor looked appropriately disgusted. Bayek, Ezio, and Altair just looked confused.

"Are these dollars worth a lot?" Ezio asked as they walked down the sidewalk.

"I do not have the brain power to convert to florins," Desmond groaned. "Or dinars or deben across like a thousand plus years okay?" he asked. "Like a shilling?"

"Ah," Ezio nodded.

"If you aren't worried about it neither am I," Bayek said.

"Sounds like a bunch of poor people to me," Altair said, specifically in Latin.

"I would agree," Ezio said absently. Desmond slapped his hand over his face.

"I wasn't poor. That's still a lot," Arno said in something recognizing Latin. Both Ezio and Altair laughed at him. "What?"

"Your accent," Desmond said.

"What of it?"

"Sounds like he's talking without moving his lips," Ezio chuckled. "Open your mouth when you speak," he said loudly. "Or speak with your hands. I can understand you better if you do," and he did indeed wave one hand while talking.

"Can we not do this?" Desmond groaned as they got to the parking lot. He'd rented an actual van for the day just to avoid public transport. He'd gotten them all on a bus or subway individually as they'd appeared but he didn't want to have to watch all of them at once on a subway. He knew somehow, someway, someone would get lost and he didn't want to hunt down an Assassin in a big city. Especially not these guys who could be... a bit stab happy if you bothered them too much. Well except Connor.

They all loaded into the van and Desmond reached into the center console to grab the single dose of pain killers he'd made sure to bring with him. Because he knew and had been right; by the end of this shopping trip he could feel the start of a headache. "Okay everyone buckled in?" Desmond turned around once he'd taken the pain killer. There was still some confusion about buckles for Bayek but Jacob had gotten it for him. They all gave him a thumbs up to cut down on the cacophony. "Great. Who wants lunch?" More thumbs up. "How about McDonalds?"

"What's that?" Jacob asked.

Desmond chuckled. "You'll see," he said and backed the car out of the parking spot and drove off from Goodwill.

-----------------

Desmond was looking over rental listings drinking his morning coffee in bed. Altair and Bayek were both on a blow up mattress on the floor. He'd bought a few over the past month but there was still only so much room. It was going to be so expensive to move. Thankfully now that everyone could operate the laptop or tablet now they could input their own gig work so could do more so long as they weren't blinded by boredom. A single bedroom apartment wasn't enough for eight full grown adults.

There wasn't much reasonable in the city itself but outside the city he could rent a full house. That was doable. And about as expensive as his current apartment actually. He scrolled listings on his phone but did consider just picking a neighborhood outside of the city and calling a realtor to find him a rental house. He didn't even care what it was.

He knew it was light out because Bayek woke up. He was punctual and even with the curtains over the windows Bayek always woke up at dawn. He sat up blearily. "Coffee?" it was the one English word he could say because the word didn't exist in any language he knew. It wouldn't have been invented for another sixteen hundred years for him. Didn't mean he hadn't immediately become addicted just like everyone else.

"Full pot in the kitchen," Desmond said, sipping his mug.

Bayek got off the inflatable gingerly and left the room. Desmond didn't have the heart to tell him no matter how careful he was about it Altair always woke up after he left. On the bed Altair huffed, awake now as well. "You could just go back to sleep," Desmond said.

"No," Altair said softly and that tracked. He sat up. "Do you ever worry?"

"I grew up in the twenty first century, my entire body is just made out of anxiety," Desmond said.

Altair grimaced. "I mean why we're here?"

"Nope."

"Really?"

"Nope."

"Why not?"

"After the shit I've seen this isn't even the worst of it," Desmond said, sipping his coffee, barely paying attention to Altair.

"How is that possible?"

Desmond looked at him now. "I died, you know," he said casually, like discussing the weather. The only indication that had actually happened was his left arm was fucked up beyond belief. "And coming back from death? Nothing really bothers you," he shrugged. "Certainly not some old head mates."

"Which you won't tell us what that means," Altair said.

Desmond shrugged. "Better that way."

"So you really don't care? Why we're here? Where we came from?"

"Not even a little," Desmond was done looking at rentals. He'd just call a realtor, get them to find him a three bed two and a half bath with a yard. He switched over to Twitter. Perfect turn your brain off activity.

They sat in the dark quiet of Desmond's room for a bit. "What's it like, being dead?" Altair asked after a few minutes. Desmond didn't answer him. "Desmond?" he looked over because Altair's voice was close. He had moved to be next to Desmond's bed.

"You should know what death is like, you've killed more people than me," Desmond said off handedly.

"I've sent people to the afterlife. I've never been to one. The others have grand Catholic ideas. Bayek said he fought gods in his afterlife. But you've died. What's that like?"

"Nothing," was all Desmond said.

"It was nothing?"

"Sure. We'll go with that."

Altair scowled at him. "You're being annoyingly obtuse, young man," he growled.

Desmond looked right at him. "Don't with me," he said in a serious way. It must have been plain on his face because Altair didn't press the subject.

Light spilled in from the living room when Bayek opened the door but it was Ezio behind him who spoke up, "Desmond, Jacob drank all the coffee and there's no more left."

"I made a pot. How'd he drink an entire pot?" Desmond groaned. "Also I know you idiots know how to use the coffee machine."

"No powder," Bayek said in his Dad tie dye tank top.

Desmond sighed. "Okay I'll go to the store," he got out of bed and rummaged around for some pants. Ezio and Bayek left the doorway. "Jacob," he yelled into the main room, "you're coming with me for drinking all the coffee."

"I didn't do shit!" Jacob yelled back.

"You better be dressed when I get out there or I'm dragging your ass to the corner store in your skivies!" and it was a real threat. Desmond changed his shirt and his dead beat dad would have been so proud of him tucking his long sleeved shirt in all the time now. He didn't like it rising up when he lifted his arm, you could see the death damage on his flank too, horrible thick black veins and old burst capillaries. He also always wore a glove now.

Jacob was fuming standing in the living room when Desmond came out of the bedroom but he was fully dressed. The inflatable mattresses had been put away already and the only person with coffee was Bayek since he'd woken up first. "I didn't even drink it all," Jacob complained. "Ezio just says whatever he wants and you believe it."

"Contrary to what he thinks its because the guy can't lie to save his life. Least of all to me," Desmond said. "Now stop complaining," he pulled on his shoes.

When he opened the door to walk out he almost bumped into someone. It was a woman. She was tall for a woman with ash brown hair and old eyes wearing an insanely sharp pant suit. "Veronica?" Jacob said next to him.

"Jacob?" she said with an accent Desmond couldn't place.

"Holy shit what are you doing here?" Jacob asked.

The woman, Veronica?, looked at Desmond, then at Jacob, "That's my question." She looked over Desmond's shoulder then back at Desmond, her eyes wide in an expression just from the way she held herself Desmond took as she wasn't surprised easily. "What are they doing here?"

"Uh... they're my friends?" Desmond said, confused by the line of questioning also who the fuck was this lady? For a moment he thought she was like the others but there was no befuddlement to her, no wide eyed bewilderment. They'd all appeared looking out of time and place. She was not. She was something else.

"Who's at the door?" Ezio came around. "Ah? Maria?" he asked.

"You also recognize her?" Desmond asked.

"That's Veronica," Jacob said. Now the others were coming around.

Desmond looked at the woman who was looking right back. "You also shouldn't be here," she said and it stuck him right in the chest.

"Well that's rude," Evie said. "Don't be mean to our friend, Veronica."

"Do you all recognize this lady?" Desmond asked the Assassins and stepped back into his apartment. He felt better being surrounded by them. Whoever or whatever she was wouldn't be able to fight off seven Master Assassins.

"Of course."

"She was our friend."

"She helped me."

"She knew my father."

"She helped me complete my mission."

They all said almost at once. What the actual fuck? He'd never seen this lady in any of the memories he had but apparently they all knew her. She was a friend. They all knew her by a different name though. "What are you doing here, Melite?" Altair was the only one asking a serious question.

The woman just sort of smiled apologetically. "My name is Kassandra actually," she said. Then she looked at Desmond. "I think we need to talk."

---------

And… that’s it lol Oops sorry If you want to see other scenes maybe suggest some? We should talk about it

131 notes · View notes

desmond69miles · 28 days

Note

Imagine being a vampire and stimming while snuggling with Jacob by nibbling his neck like a giant kitty cat.

"What are you doing?"

"Nomnom"

Look at me, writing while in the car with family. This totally (not) a good idea!

But yes, the assassin with a vampire as a lover. Certainly an interesting duo!

I don't do mean to bring Evie in here, but Evie would be bonkers over a real vampire, not a children's tale or some scuff in The Ghost Club. A lot of questions from Evie and Jacob are to be expected.

And actually - I think that Jacob would be (mostly) fine with his s/o chewing on him. Maybe not his neck or where vital points are, but if he slips an old assassin's gauntlet with the blade removed onto his arm? Go ham.

If your fangs retracted, Jacob wouldn't have a total problem as long as you aren't going to randomly bite onto his jugular.

On topic of this - Jacob is fine with you feeding on him if it is on his wrist. Jugular or femoral artery? No thanks. But if you were desperate and it was day with no other choice, he'd offer is arm.

So, Jacob with a vampire lover. I'd rate him a solid 8/10 - two points deducted because he's a little skeptical you are a cannibal at the start.

#jacob frye x reader #jacob frye #assassins creed x reader #assassin's creed syndicate #fanfiction #lynns posts

38 notes · View notes

valenli · 9 months

Text

Headcanons for some of my favourite men in franchises (Games)

As I said I made more, and i need more ideas from games. However here are a few

Jacob Frye (ACS)

Jacob loves being sarcastic. He often teases his S/O lady with his funny remarks, though he does his best to time them right

Jacob goes drinking with his S/O in order to have fun, and fight off any templar crooks who may try harming her

Even when he's older, his charismatic nature doesn't hide from his S/O. He let's her know by telling her jokes quietly or with letters filled with jokes

He boasts about his S/O to Evie though he used to tease her about 'Greenie'. However he does seem very compassionate about his S/O

Jin Sakai (GOT)

Jin is pretty protective of his S/O. He let's her know this by holding her wrist in dangerous places or by holding his blade handle

Jin enjoys visiting hot springs with his S/O. Often to recover after his many battles with the Mongols and to get through his worries

Jin brings S/O with him to shrines they visit. Petting foxes is a must on their travels when passing through nature

Jin limits himself when drinking to make sure he's always sharp, but he let's S/O drink comfortably, even joking with her

Ignis Scientia (FFXV)

Ignis often makes S/O her favourite dishes in order to avoid having to go to expensive places, also because S/O prefers his cooking

Ignis takes S/O around Altissia when possible, showing her the nicest areas and buys her small gifts with significant gifts

Health is important to Ignis. He makes sure his S/O is maintaining her health and staying clean

Even after losing his vision, he often let's his S/O know that it doesn't stop him from his old hobbies and he still does his best

Joseph Seed (FC5)

Joseph often does bible studies with his S/O. They share their favourite verses together or discuss meanings

Joseph talks about his S/O to the followers, but mainly to his siblings. It's clear he loves her as he describes her in great measures

After the collapse, he'd probably live with his S/O. Enjoying the beauty of the Eden tree or the water from the waterfall

Joseph and his S/O would help the village against the highwayman as they'd have experience through the years against the foes

97 notes · View notes

reemonna · 1 year

Text

Getting drunk with Jacob Frye

He mentions his urgency to make his own 'the rooks' gang every 5 seconds

Right after you're both done with drinking, he will take your hand to climb with him on the buildings' rooftops with your both laughter blaring all over the place

(NSFW/+18) You will end up making love on the rooftop of some building under the pale moonlight

He doesn't really like drinking to the point of getting wasted a lot, to keep his perception in a good level and stay connected with his surroundings. But he will definitely get drunk when he's around you. He would be so taken by you that he won't realise what he should and shouldn't do

His sense of humour increases and he throws more jokes when he gets drunk than he does in usual

You both talk about all the mess he did in the whole country. How he derailed a train, set fire to theatres, messed up factories, took the prime minister's spouse for a walk to one of the most dangerous England streets, and nearly crashing Britain's economy

And of course he must mention how Evie always interrupts his plans, which -in fact- means fixing his dumb doings and saving the day

"When Evie first heard of the squabble that happened yesterday in town, she pointed her fingers of blame at me, accusing me of starting that fight. Yes, I may have started it by accident, but she really must have a little faith in me, right?"

Will obviously start random fights with everyone in the inn

You don't really want to see how brutal he gets if someone tried to harass you one way or another, it's like releasing a monster -that's been tied for years- on the loose

It should be obvious that he grows more confident to flirt, and his feelings towards you loom clearer. He might even propose to you

Shouting in the middle of the inn, telling everyone how gorgeous and smart you are and how lucky he is to have you by his side? That's undoubtedly happening

300 notes · View notes

maddiethecanadianassassin · 7 months

Text

Jokes! Jokes! Jokes!

A Jacob Frye Drabble - dedicated to @ramshackledtrickster and inspired by their animation!

Tags: Implied relationship, features OC, dancing, party, at a pub, drinking.

Warnings: PG - no major earnings except for decapitating a stuffed dummy

//////

The pub was lively that late afternoon as Jacob Frye and his merry band of Rooks threw a little get together. The company was lovely, the food and drink refreshing, and the entertainment was a laugh. Literally.

One of the Rooks, a natural pianist was going at it on the instrument, his fingers seemed to dance on the keys. His buddies clapped and cheered him on as they each toasted their mugs, drinking and singing along to his tune.

Speaking of performance...

Madeline Shrike sat with the Rooks, a drink in hand as she glanced over to see Jacob practically waltz over to an open area of the pub floor. His Rooks applauded his arrival, hooting, hollering, even some banging their fists on the tables. Madeline reached for her glass, saving it so it wouldn't topple over from all the excitement.

It had been a few months now since Madeline had first joined Jacob Frye and his band of Rooks after first moving to London for a fresh start, a new life outside of the comforts of her family home in Scotland. She had never been on more fulfilling adventures in her life before setting foot in this city, and her heart swelled with pride over the good she had helped take part in to protect the city from the Blighters, especially protecting the young, innocent and unfortunately poor orphaned children forced into horrendous child labor.

She looked at Jacob, seeing his smile, the playful gleam in his eyes. After his last few missions the past couple of weeks, he needed tonight. A well deserved rest and respite. Well. . . maybe minus the rest for now. Definite respite.

Madeline glanced over to see Jacob dragging along a bean bag dummy. He effortlessly lifted it up, its arms flailing in the air as he made it bow in greeting and the Rooks laughed, followed by a cheer. Where Jacob found it, either in a trunk somewhere at her Theatre or buried somewhere in his train hideout, Madeline didn't know.

But if there was a stage prop missing when she'd go into work the next morning, she'd know who to speak to.

Madeline pressed her elbow onto the table, holding her head up with her hand as she rolled her eyes in a teasing manner at the gang leader. Jacob caught the glimmer in her eye, his own eyes dazzling to match his mischievous grin.

He cleared his throat, getting into position.

"The curtain rose, the scene was set They danced a murderous duet~"

His voice projected across the bar as he stepped up onto his stage, twirling around with the dummy before leading it into what looked like a waltz.

"And much deserving blood was let Up to!"

He dipped the dummy down as if he were seducing a woman with his moves before shooting back up right, his eyes going wide as he made a motion with his finger, slicing across his throat.

He tossed the dummy up before grabbing it by the back of its neck, showing it off to his audience.

"The scene wherein they disagreed On who should live and who should bleed?"

Jacob poked at the dummy with an accusing glare before pointing himself before tossing the dummy again, grabbing it by its shoulder and held it in front of his body to shield himself. His fingers wiggled in anticipation before activating his hidden blade, with a flick of his wrist, he sliced the head of the dummy clean off, stuffing falling everywhere on the floor.

That dashingly mischievous grin returned.

"And Maxwell Roth he then received A very bad review~"

The Rooks cheered at the performance, whistling and hollering. Madeline couldn't help it herself as she clapped along with them. Jacob glanced over towards her, taking his top hat in his hand and offering her a performative bow at the waist as the Rooks continued seeing the chorus. Madeline offered him a glimmering smile as she bowed her head in kind.

Jacob approached Madeline's table where Jacob's drink lay waiting for him. He gave her a smile as he reached for his mug and downed another gulp of his drinks. How he was able to drink this stuff like guzzling water, Madeline hadn't had the foggiest.

"You seem quiet," Jacob spoke up, leaning forward slightly to make sure his voice could be heard over the crowd.

"Just tired after a long day is all," Madeline shook her head before giving Jacob a reassuring expression. "I'm alright, Jacob, I'm content sitting on the sidelines and watching you and the Rooks celebrate. You've all earned it. Especially you,"

"Kind words, Miss Shrike," Jacob smiled as he crossed his arms over the table. "I'll admit I was a little nervous. Here I was thinking you'd be a more stern judge of my performance,"

My eyes glanced over to the now decapitated dummy, seeing a group of Rooks playing around with it. They looked like they were playing hot potato with it.

"You played your part flawlessly, Sir Frye," I grinned back at him.

Jacob rolled his eyes at the young woman, though there wasn't any sign of actual hurt in his eyes. "How many times have I asked you not to call me that?"

"It's a title! Why not use it?" She asked him honestly.

If I had been given the title of Dame by the Queen herself, I'd be absolutely beside myself. Madeline thought to herself.

"As my sweat sister has once said, there is a time and place for everything. I'm simply waiting for the right moment," Jacob chuckled softly before taking another sip of his drink.

"And what moment would that be?" Madeline asked curiously.

Jacob looked towards Madeline with an equally curious gaze, his lips twitching into a playful smirk as he pushed himself off from the table. "How about this?"

He walked around to her side, offering her another bow, more. . . posed actually, even for Jacob, "Madeline Shrike," He straightened, offering the Magician his hand. "How would you like to dance with a Sir tonight?"

Madeline's cheeks flushed a light shade of pink at Jacob's playful delivery. She smiled up at him as her petite hands glazed over his black gloved hand. "I'm not much of a dancer, but. . . just this once, Jacob Frye,"

"Just this once," Jacob repeated, nodding his head in agreement.

Jacob gently brought Madeline along to the open floor of the pub, his other arm around her waist. As the Rooks cheered and continued to sing the song, the pair started their dance.

"Jokes, Jokes, Jokes! Make ‘em laugh until they choke~"

Madeline followed Jacob's steps, his movements lively with the music as they danced and laughed together. Madeline couldn't remember laughing this much. She yelped suddenly when Jacob twirled out of his hold before spinning her back into his embrace, sidestepping as part of his chest pressed into Madeline's back.

He had a big grin on his face as he started singing along with the Rooks.

"Fairly slay ‘em in the aisles Maidens fair and Princes charming~"

Her cheeks darkened as Madeline gawked at the man, his mere teasing. Madeline rolled her eyes as Jacob gently spun her back around to face him, his arm finding its way back looping around her waist as they continued their merry dance.

Jacob had always been a tease. A mischievous, playful, devilish tease. But he was also brave, cunning. A man that Madeline was proud to work with and fight alongside to protect London from the Blighters. A great leader, and a good friend.

Although if she was being honest with herself. . .

"Thrills, Thrills, Thrills! Dashing feats and bloody spills And I guarantee You’ll never see The ending coming!"

Madeline miss-stepped and found herself falling back. She shut her eyes, anticipating hitting the harsh floor below. The music stopped, there was chatter among the Rooks, cooling down from the song as she opened her eyes slowly and found Jacob staring back, his face ever so close to her own. He had caught her before Madeline could hit the floor.

Perhaps. . . there was something more?

Jacob slowly pulled her back up right, his free hand moving away from cradling the back of her head. His other arm stayed at her waist as he spoke, "Shall I escort you home, Miss Shrike?"

#assassin's creed #jacob frye #assassin's creed syndicate #Drabble #fanfiction

27 notes · View notes

vadlings · 6 months

Text

the memories of the boy i’ve been (801 words) by vadlings

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Ethan Frye & Jacob Frye, Evie Frye & Jacob Frye, Ethan Frye & Evie Frye & Jacob Frye Characters: Jacob Frye, Ethan Frye, Evie Frye Additional Tags: Character Study, Emotional Baggage, Bad Parenting, Family, Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, Jacob Frye Has ADHD

Summary:

Before Ethan, it had been just him, Evie, and their grandmother. Obviously they’d competed, but nothing like they did later on, when every word of praise to Evie and look of disapproval to Jacob felt like the driving force of the rift growing fast between them.

#ok. this is my first time posting fanfic online and im really nervous but i do want to write more like even if just for myself. onwards etc #jacob frye #ethan frye #evie frye #assassins creed syndicate #assassin's creed syndicate #ac syndicate #ac #fic #fanfiction #clay writes #anyway what happened was that i came across this deactivated user who had apparently done like. a bunch of longform character studies #and had also written some fic as well. but bc they had deleted everything i couldnt access any of it #so i was like damn there is so little ac syndicate stuff so that is unfortunate. i guess one does have to be the change they want to see in #the world. and then the dexamfetamine kicked in

18 notes · View notes

xreader-obsessions · 1 year

Text

Summary: The story of how you find out your best friend is an assassin. Jacob Frye x Reader Part 1 Part 2

It was half out of curiosity for where he was going and half out of need for a companion to wander town with that you followed Jacob when you caught him wandering by the shops. Either way, you were willing to follow him and bother him for a few hours like you always did.

You saw him dive into an alley that was far down the street. You followed his course and found yourself sinking into an area that grew filth. It was the seedier part of town, and you were not surprised to find him going to such a place. Not far into your walk, you could hear a ruckus behind a closed door. The building seemed to be very active and the only place you would find Jacob.

The door opened and unleashed sounds into the open air that were previously stopped from escaping due to the heavy wood door. You heard a crowd's worth of voices shout in a loud uproar. Half were cheering in joy and half were groaning in disappointment. Some were spewing threats and others were pulling teasing jeers and jokes. A thin layer of cigarette smoke drifted through the air and the musty smell of alcohol filled the room.

You stood on top of the stairs and scanned the crowd for Jacob, but found it useless since all you could see were people's backs. You then descended down a flight of wooden stairs into darkness and the faint glow of gas-light lanterns.

Past the base of the steps was a sloped dirt floor and a crowd of people surrounding an event you could not see. From the top of the stairs, you spotted a wooden pen made of barrel wood and wondered what it held.

"Like to make a bet lass?" You tried not to jump as a man approached you, holding paper tickets. So that was what was going on.

"Not yet." You lied. You would never bet on such an event. Now you were just planning on confronting Jacob and questioning why he would be in a place that allowed him to bet all of his money away.

"Well. You better bet fast. Man who's in the ring is a sure winner." He encouraged, before blending back into the crowd. You were sure it was some kind of sales tactic the man was trying to use on you and did not realize he was being truthful.

You slipped through the crowd of huddled men all the way up to the wooden fencing that created a circle in the middle of the room. Once you established a spot for yourself, you looked up to find the man that drew you here in the first place and found yourself blushing heavily and averting your gaze.

Jacob stood in the ring, shirtless and sweaty from fighting. His hair was slicked back and disheveled and he had a white sash tied around his waist that rose up to his belly button. You tried to look away from him out of respect since it felt improper to see him in such a state. Jacob was your friend, meaning you couldn't ogle over him.

The unexpected sight made you blush and also made you realize how attractive you found him, but at the time you refused to admit to that. No, you were just flustered since it was so sudden, it was not due to attraction.

You peaked over at some better's cards, looking for any excuse to distract yourself. The cards were labeled "Round two, round three, round four etc." and a written dollar amount. Since the round number was written by hand, telling you the better chose the number and if the contestant lasted than many rounds or more, they won.

A few men held cards that had one of two options circled "challenger 1" and "challenger 2" and a written dollar amount, meaning they bet on teams instead of rounds. You stopped distracting yourself with cards and managed to watch the main attraction.

Jacob's fists were wrapped with cloth and he wiped sweat off his forehead with them, as he stared down one of his three enemies which were equal or taller than him. His muscles were tight and coiled as he brought an arm up to block a right hook aimed for his head and countered it with a sharp jab to the abdomen.

He then leaned back as another hit was thrown in his direction, and sharply kicked at the man's ankle after dodging, then grabbed his outstretched arm and threw him to the ground. The attacks were so sudden, the third challenger did not even have time to help assist his team mate. With his last opponent, Jacob struck him across the face and then bent his opponent's arm behind his back till he was hunched over, so he could bring his knee up into his face to knock him out.

When Jacob rose he locked eyes with you and signaled for the match to be over. Someone threw a white towel to him, and he wiped his face as he walked to meet you against the ring's wall. You still felt a faint blush on your face and jittery nerves, but you pressed them down and acted as if the blush was gone.

"So. You make extra money in fight clubs I see."

"And you're following me I see." He mocked and placed the rag against the pen before grabbing a shirt and jumping over the pen. "Didn't you have something to do in town?"

"Just got sidetracked. Where did you learn to fight like that?"

"Training. Let's get out of here. I don't want to run into anyone." You headed towards the door, where Jacob traded in his ticket for some cash and quickly returned to the street as if you did not discover one of Jacob's secrets.

#jacob frye x reader #x reader #assassins creed fanfic #x reader fanfiction

66 notes · View notes

damadisangue · 19 hours

Text

20 questions for fic writers Thank you, @thetentaclecommander ❤️ 1. How many works do you have on AO3? 153! 95 only in Resident Evil fandom. 2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 573,764 3. What fandoms do you write for? Mainly Resident Evil, but I write also for the Arcane, Game of Thrones, Batman and Assassin's Creed Syndicate (incest) fandom. 4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? 1) The years we shared 2) Dirty little fairytale 3) Unravel me 4) Natural born sinner 5) All beauty destroyed 5. Do you respond to comments? Yes! Always! I always enjoy receiving them and being able to talk to people about the characters and their impressions of the plot. 6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? If I had to choose between those published I would say Forever is not for everyone, in which Alex suddenly dies before Albert and Wesker finds himself dealing with this sudden loneliness, as well as the hallucinations in which he sees his sister. 7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? I wanna feel you from the inside, because Albert wins and both Weskers are alive and together. 8. Do you get hate on fics? Uhm, no, not really. There were those on Twitter who commented negatively saying that I wrote incest, so I sucked, but no big deal. 9. Do you write smut? Well, obviously yes. I believe it is a fundamental aspect of a relationship and a language through which the characters can express what words do not do. 10. Do you write crossovers? Nope! 11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Uhm, as far as I know, no. 12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Yep! In Chinese and Russian! 13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? No: I don't think I would do it well. 14. What’s your all-time favorite ship? Albert and Alex Wesker. Definitely Albert and Alex. The obsession, the brutality, the blood, the incest, the mutual possession, the total and absolute control that Wesker wants to exercise, Alex's sadistic and violent streak, the fact that they are a wonderful tangle of feelings and teeth and that they bite into each other - and the ramifications that sex can take: violent, raw, brutal, or tremendously and painfully gentle, nostalgic, needy. And then Wesker infected with the Uroboros? It's clearly a wedding invitation for me. 15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? At the moment I would like to conclude a fantasy AU on Resident Evil, but it requires a very large narrative and contextualization effort - the nations, the houses, the monsters, the creatures: I'm a very precise and methodical person so it could take me a long time 16. What are your writing strengths? Uhm, I don't know... maybe the sex and the feelings? 17. What are your writing weaknesses? The description of the environments. I think it should improve. 18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? Yes. I'm Italian, so I did that for Excella. 19. First fandom you wrote for? Batman. A long time ago. 20. Favorite fic you’ve written? One, not yet published - violent and with torture, but which deeply explores the Weskers and which I will publish hopefully by the summer - and Lamb of God, for the sex scenes and the relationship between Alex and Albert. I'm not sure who to tag, so anyone can use it freely! @judasiskariot @vesperene @tacky-tramp @junotranscends @omgbarbiegurl @doctor-hannibal-wesker @irithyll-writes @joanna-lannister

#albert wesker #alex wesker #my fanfiction #resident evil #weskers #albert wesker/alex wesker #alex wesker x albert wesker #weskercest #arcane fanfic #fryecest #evie frye/jacob frye #i ship jilco and i don't care #jilco #jinx x silco #jinx/silco

6 notes · View notes

kuroganescythe7 · 1 month

Text

Hoo boi… Bit more nervous bout this one. I have put more feelings into this one than i did with the two others. Please do be kind if commenting.

NOTE: My native language isn’t English

#assassin’s creed syndicate: jack the ripper #jacob frye #FANtasy #FANfiction #writer x character

3 notes · View notes

assassins-and-hidden-blades · 2 years

Note

Congrats on 1.2k!!! Your an amazing writer and we are all so lucky to have your prompts and stories!

Please for prompt 11# may I have Jacob saying that to F!reader after she’s been kidnapped an tortured for a few days. Blighters took her to mess with Jacob and they intended on killing her and leaving her where Jacob would find her body but they don’t get the chance. He gets to her in time and she’s scared and shaking/trembling. ( p/s she’s a civilian )

02/08/2022: Thank you so much! I'm nothing without your kind words and support <333 there are a couple of #11s around, so I'm going to take an educated guess on which one you mean. I hope you enjoy!

F! Reader x Jacob Frye

#11: "Show me where it hurts, darling, it's okay."

"Where is she?"

He leaned in close to the beaten Blighter in front of him, his low hum delivering a slow threat. "Believe me, I can make this the most painful experience of your life. You either tell me where she is, and you can scamper away with your miserable life, or I shall beat the truth out of you. Your choice."

The Blighter just chuckled in his chair, his bloodstained grin igniting a new rage in the Assassin. Jacob's lip curled in a silent snarl, raising his clenched fist to strike. The door creaked open behind him. "Jacob? Can we talk?"

"Can it wait?"

Evie didn't respond, and Jacob turned his head. The damp stone room was barely illuminated around Evie's silhouette as she leaned against the doorframe. Jacob released the Blighter's shirt reluctantly, moving to the door. "Better start making funeral plans, Frye," the Blighter sneered. Jacob paused in his step, spinning only to send a throwing knife into his shoulder.

"Get comfortable," he seethed, slamming the door behind the howling man.

The adjoining room shone the first sunlight on his skin for about six hours. He knew he was running out of time, and despite taking a deep breath, he pulled off the brass knuckles on his left hand and threw them in a white-hot anger across the room, a frustrated yell escaping his throat. An empty vase shattered in the corner. He turned to rest his fists on the table of weapons beside him.

"Please," he begged, head hung low. "Tell me you have news."

"I followed every lead of suspicious activity, everywhere Blighters have been stationed. I made a short list of--"

"Give it to me." He sniffed before turning to face his sister, hand outstretched.

"Jacob, think with your head for a minute. You know they're trapping you. They want to get in your head."

"I don't care. Give me the list."

"You aren't listening. I'm telling you to not go barging in like you always do. Even when you have your head on straight, you're reckless. You will get yourself -- and possibly Y/n --"

"Evie, give me the fucking list!"

It only took a second for Jacob to realise that he had snapped. He heaved a sigh, rubbing his hands down his face. "Sorry. I'm sorry."

Evie put a hand on his arm. "I know you're worried. But you also need to be safe. You're no use to her dead. Just promise me you'll be careful."

"Yeah. Yeah, I promise." A piece of paper slipped into his palm.

"Finish with your 'friend', and then we get going."

The next time Jacob entered the room, there was a smirk on his face. The Blighter's demeanour had completely changed. He was a pig ready to squeal.

"I'll tell ya everything!" he said once he made eye contact. "I'll tell ya under two-- no, three conditions!"

Jacob raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

"Get this fucking knife out of my shoulder!"

Slowly, he crossed the floor to the Blighter. With equal speed, he crouched in front of the chair, grasping the hilt of the knife. "Keep talking, and I'll pull it out."

"How many days has it been?"

"Why does that matter?" Jacob asked, but relented a moment after. He has grown too impatient. "Four days."

He didn't like the smile that emerged after.

"And what's the time?"

"... 5 o'clock." He twisted the knife, releasing another painful cry. "Why?"

"She's... She's at the docks. The Thames docks."

He yanked the knife out of his shoulder, standing up to confer with the list from Evie.

Out of three places, the Thames docks sat at the bottom of the list.

He marched out. "You'll never get there in time, Jacob! By nightfall, she'll be dead!"

The Blighter's words echoed with the slam of the door.

"What happened?" Evie had waited, ready to support him.

"Docks. She's at the fucking docks." As soon as he left the stronghold, he ran to the main road, squinting in the soft light of dusk. A Rook carriage waited outside, ready for this moment. Evie and Jacob took over the driving seats as the Rooks sat inside. Jacob set the horses off urgently, immediately setting them into a canter. "Get the Rooks to cause a distraction. Pick the idiots off from a vantage point. I'm getting y/n."

"Stop seeing red and think about how you're going to achieve that, Jacob."

"Already have."

The reckless driving took merely five minutes, another reason for Jacob's anger. "Everybody out!" He rapped harshly on the wood as he dismounted. "You see anyone else, you bring them here."

"How do you think you're getting in?" Evie grasped his coat before he could walk off.

"That building there is a storage unit. Guarded by two Blighters, probably more inside. And I'm going to walk through the front fucking door."

"Calm down for two seconds, Jacob."

"I..." He took a stuttering breath. "I can't. Not without her."

Evie didn't say anything. She squeezed his shoulder before looking to the Rooks. "Rooks! With me!" She took them down to the opposite side of the docks, already drawing attention as she climbed high.

Jacob stood tall as he descended the stairs to the docks, waiting for the Blighters to come to him. Each time, they would crumble after one counter-attack. The trail of bodies led him to the door of a storage unit he had crossed off the list when he first started the search. Self-loathing boiled in his gut.

With a startling bang, he kicked the old door open. Gun drawn, he gave a hard look to the one holding a bloodied blade to your neck. Jacob studied the hurried rise and fall of your chest, your ruined clothes, the bruising and lacerations adorning your skin, the gag in your mouth. "Drop the gun, Frye."

"If you want to live, you'll step away."

There was a scuffling behind him, the recognisable sounds of people choking on their blood filled the air. In his peripheral, green coats joined him; swathes of Rooks blocked the door, cornering the lone Blighter. The man seemed to stutter in his stance, nervous and unsure of the sudden developments, of the ace that had fallen out of his sleeve. In the next second, he ran.

Jacob couldn't care less what would happen to him. His focus was on you, only you.

"Y/n, I'm so sorry." He kneeled in front of you and pulled the gag from your mouth, gently grasping your face. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen." He cut the bonds on your wrists, catching you as you fell forward. Your eyes were closed. "Y/n, can you hear me?"

Nestled against his shoulder, you kept inhaling stuttering breaths. "It hurts," you cried hoarsely, tears spilling onto your cheeks.

"Show me where it hurts, darling, it's okay."

"E-Everywhere. Jacob, I'm scared."

He readjusted you into his chest. "I'm here now, I've got you. We'll get you home. Are you bleeding?"

You shook your head. "It's stopped." Although it should be reassuring, Jacob's heart dropped at the extent of what they've done.

"You're alright, you're okay."

#assassin's creed #x reader #assassin's creed x reader #jacob frye #jacob frye x reader #assassin's creed x f!reader #jacob frye x f!reader #1.2k follower celebration #assassin's creed fanfiction #assassin's creed x you #jacob frye x you

464 notes · View notes

kiatheinsomniac · 2 years

Note

KIAAA MY FAVE WRITER EVER!! I HOPE YOURE DOING WELL AND THAT YOURE NOT OVERWORKING YOURSELF ❤️

im feeling pretty angsty, so could you please make headcanons for Altaïr, Connor, Arno, Jacob, Edward, and Ezio about them having a nightmare where the reader dies? you seriously never fail to impress me so i came to you!! 💓💓

notes: AHHHHH it makes me so happy to know that I'm your favourite writer!! I'm doing alright at the moment, I hope you are too <3 I hope this post will continue to impress you hehe

characters: Altaïr, Ezio, Edward, Connor, Arno, Jacob

☾ ⋆ﾟ MASTERLIST / RULES / TAGLIST FORM

a l t a ï r :

It was a kick to your leg that woke you up and when you turned over to look at the culprit, you found your lover's face scrunched up and his body trembling.

You set your hand on his shoulder and gently shook him, calling out his name to try and wake him. He woke with a start and sat upright straight away, body turning as he looked at you, hands landing on your shoulders and then cupping your face.

He laid back down with you so that he could pull you into his arms and you made no protest, returning his embrace. After a while, you realised that he was still shaking and you could feel the wetness of his tears upon your head where he had buried his face. You tried to pull back a little, to wipe his tears away, but he stopped you, saying "Just let me hold you for a while, please." and not wanting you to see him cry. You stayed in his arms until he calmed enough to fall back asleep.

e z i o :

You were stirred awake by Ezio calling your name and turned around to find him shaking, hands gripping the sheets.

You sat up, lit the candle on your nightstand and began gently brushing the hair away from his face in a soothing manner, not wanting to startle him when he was so clearly having a nightmare. You took his hand with your other one and squeezed it gently, continuing to caress his hair until he woke up and looked straight at you.

He's holding your hand even tighter as he quickly tells you all about what happened, about how terrified he was of losing you too. You leaned down to kiss him softly, returning to lay down beside him, curled up into his side and you assured him that you were perfectly safe, that he would always be able to protect you and that you would be with him for a long, long time.

e d w a r d :

Another one where you're likely kicked awake or a hand goes flying out and lands against your back. When you woke to find Edward having a nightmare, you began calling out his name and asking him to wake up, hoping that perhaps some part of him could hear you and hearing that he was having a nightmare would be enough to wake him.

It seemed to work and his breathing was heavy as he woke up, sitting upright and looking all around the place, as if for danger, before turning to you and pulling you into his lap, cradling you to his chest.

He held you close and began to tell you all about his nightmare where he lost you to some crew that had boarded the Jackdaw. His breathing was ragged and you could tell that he was doing his best to not cry at that false memory of holding your corpse, the angry red gash across your throat. You wrapped your arms around his neck and peppered kisses all across his face as you assured him that you're perfectly safe and suggested that the two of you go back to sleep as he held you.

c o n n o r :

He doesn't really move or call out so you were suddenly very thankful that you were a light sleeper when one of his groans woke you up. You propped yourself up on your elbow and lightly tapped his chest, seeing how his face was scrunched up. You called out his name and he finally woke up.

He lets out a big sigh of relief when he sees you hovering over him, alive and well with the moonlight falling on you from through the window. He reaches up to cup your face and pulls you downwards gently to kiss your forehead and then your mouth.

You ask him about the nightmare and he tells you all about the ambush of redcoats, of the bayonet through your middle, of how you were barely clinging to life when the fight was over and how it all felt so real. You assure him that it was all just a nightmare and coax him to lay back down with you, Connor insisting on you turning over so that he can hold you close while he spoons you.

a r n o :

You woke to the sound of crying and in the dying light from the fireplace, you could see the tears on Arno's cheeks as he wept in his sleep. You brushed them away from his face and began calling out to him to wake up, gently shaking his shoulder.

He woke up with a gasp and you quickly told him that he was having a nightmare. He sat up and wiped more of the tears from his face and you asked him what it was about.

You leaned your head on his shoulder as he told you all about coming home one day to find you dead in the memento gallery, murdered. You assure him that everything's alright now though and stand up to put on a robe as you suggest a quick escapade to the kitchen to see what pastries you can help yourselves to as you grab a robe for Arno as well, the two of you making your way downstairs, his nightmare soon forgotten.

j a c o b :

I feel like he would be the worst before he wakes: the blankets are on the floor, there are limbs everywhere, he's calling out and flaying about, trying to fight while still asleep, tears in his eyes. You'll have to call out to him for him to wake up or put yourself at risk of being hit while he's still having the nightmare, it should work to wake him up if you're loud enough.

When he wakes up, he has to take a moment to take in his surroundings, where he is, assure that he's not wherever he was in the nightmare and that he never really was in the first place. His eyes land on you and that's when he finally seems to calm down, excusing himself as he goes over to the pitcher to pour himself a glass of water. You don't fail to notice how he smudges away his tears while his back is still facing you.

When he comes to sit down on the edge of the bed beside you, you make your way into his lap and wrap your arms around his neck, kissing the corner of his mouth and asking him what the nightmare was about. Not wanting to relive it, he keeps the details vague and says he watched you die and was fighting to get to you. You assure him that none of it was real and he was perfectly safe and that he certainly throws a better punch when he's awake and not asleep which makes him laugh a little. Once he's settled down, the two of you gather the blankets up from the floor and go back to sleep.

☾ ⋆ﾟ Buy me a coffee? ✧⋆.・゜Want to be tagged?

🏷️@writing-noah @aarnodoriann @b3k1720 @veryfancydoilies @elfaoulyyy @havatnah @ayameiris4 @asuni921 @daddyadler

#assassins creed #assassins creed x reader #assassins creed fanfiction #assassins creed fanfic #assassins creed headcanons #altaïr ibn la'ahad #altaïr x reader #ezio auditore #ezio auditore x reader #edward kenway #edward kenway x reader #connor kenway #connor kenway x reader #ratonhnhaké:ton #ratonhnhaké:ton x reader #arno dorian #arno dorian x reader #jacob frye #jacob frye x reader

845 notes · View notes