Featured: Follow me Ezio
(AC III) Modern!Connor x Shy!Male!Reader: HopeHope is the light at the end of the tunnel, something to breathe in once you emerge from the darkness. Or is that just wishful thinking? Hope is the future you dream of with mirth, a feeling that dissipates when you open your eyes again. Or is that what they call a "reality check"? Do you even know what hope is?(AC III) Modern!Connor x Shy!Male!Reader: Hope by NY25
You sit on a bench with your arms around the unzipped backpack on your lap and you watch the people pass with smiles etched into their face, smiles you can see right through. You glance down at the time then up again as if the extra seconds gave the bus enough time to arrive, but no. Instead, you find yourself staring at the face of a young, darker man approaching the bench.
The man sits down on the other end of the bench and you note the distance between you then the stoic look about him; his brooding gaze is fixated on the flow of people on the side walk and the heavy traffic on the road behind them. His head slowly turns to meet your eyes and you quickly look ahead wi
Ezio Auditore da Firenze x Reader ~ Cold"Mio dio, (y/n) !" Maria exclaims.Ezio Auditore da Firenze x Reader ~ Cold by Shyerue
You coughed the whole day you were cleaning the Villa in Monteriggioni.
Somehow you caught a cold in the middle of summer, in Italy.
Fate seems to love you.
"Everything's fine.." You rasp.
Maria takes the broom out of your hand and leads you to sit on the bench in front of the door.
She places her cold hand against your forehead. Cold compared to your burning skin.
"(y/n)...You are burning up. I guess you caught my cold."
As a maid, you are supposed to look after her, even if it means to get sick yourself.
"I said I'm-" Heavy coughing cuts you off. "..fine..." You grumble. "I can't lose my job because of a mere cold. It'll fade." You promise Maria and grab the broom again, stomping to the front gate.
Almost crushing into him, you are startled by the sudden sight of Ezio, Maria's son.
Don't get me wrong, he is hot piece of cake and everyone knows it, but it is bad manners for a maid to gawk.
And he is out of your league anyways. He could have any woman
SEQUENCE 02, Memory 1: Season of MercySEQUENCE 02, Memory 1: Season of Mercy by imajanaeshun
DECEMBER 20, 1600 – THE TABARD, SOUTHWARK
Following her initiation, Augusta would go days at a time without seeing real sunlight. The deep stuffiness of the cellar above felt thin compared to her new home, and one trip out into London would make it all noticeable again. At least down underground, Augusta was able to escape the stench of the river. Besides, at this time of year, the torches and candles kept the Assassin's haven warmer and brighter anyway.
“Lighten your feet!” Cyril Bijoux commanded.
Augusta parried and parlayed in the training ring with another young recruit. His name was Darian Frederick. Augusta didn’t know much else about him, other than he’d only been Bijoux’s apprentice for a few weeks more than she, and from his kindred lack of holiday spirit, Augusta reckoned he didn’t have many loved ones to celebrate with, if any at all.
He also seemed angry. Often brooding and releasi
Ashtar-The Assassin Chapter 4Ashtar-The Assassin Chapter 4 by Flammensturm2
Ashtar was breathing hard. The kick came unexpected and sent her to the ground, but she rolled away swiftly. At the same time she launched for Altaïr's feet. He simply stepped back and sheathed his sword. With a kick, he sent his student's weapon away. He brought his short blade to her neck, but Ashtar stooped and in a swift move, she grabbed his arm and twisted it. The punch Altaïr drove into her stomach knocked the air out of her lungs. Before she even recovered, he pulled her up by her collar. Even though it was noon, the girl saw the stars dancing. “You finally had enough?” asked the white hooded man. As an answer, she tried to bring her knee up which was trapped between his legs. But she didn't catch him completely off-guard. “Trying to fight under the waistline? That's not fair.” Ashtar countered: “How was that again? Nothing is true and everything is permitted. Our creed, master Altaïr.”
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