A/N: There’s only the combo drabbles left. So those will be up soon enough! As for the one-shot native-snowflake I apologize! D: I really thought I’d be able to finish it today! I promise it’ll be up tomorrow! And due to an earlier mishap, there’s two for #46. My apologies!
41. (Thomas Hickey)
“I do-” His confusion was cut off by your lips pushing roughly against his own, both legs coming up to rest on the wooden chair so you could properly straddle him. He paused for a beat, overcome with confusion and amusement, before returning the kiss. His large hands rose, pulling you closer by the back of your thighs as his tongue left a trail of desire on your lips. You couldn’t stop yourself from moaning, body jerking as he pushed up to get closer.
You were too lost in the feel of his hands and his mouth moving in tandem, your mind addled from the lust. It wasn’t supposed to be this intimate and exploratory, but damn it all, it felt too good. Using the last bit of strength, you pulled away from him, almost giving back in when his lips chased yours like a thirsty man desperate for water.
“Now, I didn’t say I wasn’t enjoying it, but what the ‘ell was that?” A breathy laugh left your lips, your racing heart beginning to return to normal.
“A distraction,” you whispered lowly, his darkened gaze following your movements as you attempted to slide off his lap. He caught you in a strong grip, keeping you above him.
“Ah, don’t tell me you’re just goin’ ta leave me aftah that.”
42. (Altaïr Ibn-La’Ahad)
Had you not felt the wet trail a single, bold tear left as it slid leisurely down your face, you might’ve believed you were numb. Your head rested heavily on your knees, both arms wrapped tightly around your legs. It wasn’t often you allowed yourself to cry, but when you did, there was always a damn good reason. And today, sadly, was no exception. You closed your eyes against the whirlwind of emotion, wishing for nothing more than it all to just leave you alone. But no, you sighed, the sound of footsteps drawing closer, you couldn’t just be left alone.
Altaïrsounded unsure and scared, reminding you of a child.
“Yes?” You croaked, cursing yourself when your voice cracked. The air was heavy with confusion,
Altaïr approaching you not unlike how one might approach a timid animal.
“I didn’t mean it.” He whispered, knowing he’d messed up. A ghost of a smile graced your lips, eyes once again opening to observe the man behind you. He was worried; hood down, hands fumbling, eyes shining, and lips pressed together. “Please don’t cry. It hurts me when you cry.”
43. (Desmond Miles)
“I told you this was the wrong way.” Desmond grumbled, his hand tugging you back towards the street you’d just come from. Despite the annoyance in his tone, he still had a smile on his face, his golden eyes completely focused on you.
“Yeah, yeah,” you laughed, rolling your eyes. “Let’s just hope this is the right way then.” You replied, a hint of teasing in your voice. He noticed it, a brilliant chuckle bubbling up his throat.
“Oh, it’s going to be the right way.” He stated firmly, the hand interlaced with your own jerking you into his chest. He dropped it, instead choosing to rest both hands on your hips. “And if it’s not,” he began, leaning down closer to your lips, “then we’ll just try another.” You managed a small smile before he closed the distance, his eyelids fluttering closed and his lips meeting yours sweetly.
You weren’t entirely sure how you’d ended up this way, but you weren’t complaining in the least. Connor’s hands were spread out along your ass, pushing you closer to him, his tongue laving at the bare skin of your neck. Your legs were locked behind Connor’s waist, head thrown back and hips surging forward in the need for sweet, sweet friction. Breathy moans were escaping your mouth, both hands tangled in his dark hair.
Despite his obvious enjoyment of the situation, something was on his mind. Something that you were almost sure you knew. Every time a groan of “Connor” managed to tumble from your lips, he seemed to stumble. It wasn’t that he didn’t love this, he just wanted to hear his name roll off your tongue in ecstasy; his real name. So you delivered.
“Ratonhnhaké:ton.” Your voice was breathy and laced with desire. The brown eyes that you’d spent so long gazing into were swallowed by a sea of black, disappearing in the light of pleasure. “Ratonhnhaké:ton,” you echoed, sure to grind against him at the same time. A low growl was torn from his throat, his words dark and voice husky as he leaned forward.
“If you keep that up, we’re not making it to a bedroom.” A slow smirk formed on your face, his own mirroring yours with absolute wickedness.
45. (Shaun Hastings)
Normally you’d understand Shaun’s diligence when it came to his work, but it had been weeks since there had been any word on Abstergo and peace seemed to finally be here, if only for a bit. Unfortunately, Shaun saw that as all the more reason to work. It was frustrating you to no end, your head resting on top of your fists as you looked up to him with narrowed eyes. Honestly, it wasn’t like you were asking for a whole lot. You just wanted to spend a little bit of time with him away from the whole Templar/Assassin ordeal.
“I know what you’re thinking so just stop.” He grumbled, fingers moving along the keys gracefully without missing a beat. He could be so damn stubborn sometimes. You watched silently for a moment, the insistent sound of tapping as Shaun typed filled the void, almost taunting you to think of someway to get him out of there. And think of a way you did. Biting down on your lip, you suppressed a smile.
Schooling your expression into one of absolute innocence, you looked up at him, eyes wider than usual and sunlight shining off them like a beacon. Shaun wasn’t able to stop himself from looking, trying to figure out how he’d gotten you to be quite so suddenly. He pulled his gaze away just as quickly, trying his damndest to avoid your look.
“Don’t you dare give me puppy dog eyes.” He bit out, resolve wavering as his fingers slowed their pace. You smiled, already knowing that you won this round.
46. (Charles Vane)
“You alright?” Vane asked, his head tilted towards you. He couldn’t see much, the sun far too bright, but from what he could see, you didn’t look to be doing too well.
“Just keep moving.” You ground out, a palm pressing roughly into your side. That had been one hell of a fight, but you’d come out more or less unscathed. As for the others, well, they wouldn’t be bothering anyone else anytime soon. You couldn’t help but chuckle darkly, the action sending jolts of pain down your spine.
“That wasn’t what I asked.” He grabbed a hold of your arm, stopping you in your shaky steps. Despite the pressure of his grip, it wasn’t painful. In fact, his touch was quite comforting.
“I’m fine.” You whispered. “But we need to get out of here.” Maybe it was the ache laced in your tone or the urgency of your voice, but he dropped the topic, however reluctantly.
“I bloody well know that.” He grumbled, walking ahead of you. You smiled at the tense muscles in his back. Even if he didn’t admit it, he was worried about you, and that was something you’d never let go of.
46. (Benjamin Hornigold)
The silence was deafening, your head cast down as Hornigold looked to you expectantly. He’d just finished some lecture on how “just” the Templar cause was but you didn’t want to hear what he had to say, too angered by his actions. Why had he betrayed you?
“Will you join me?” He questioned quietly, the smallest twinge of regret in his voice. His hand reached up for you, stopping and dropping once again when he realized it might not be welcome.
“I hate you.” There was no malice in your tone, just you stating a simple, true fact. You thought you loved the man oh so long ago, but you could never think that now. You couldn’t even look at him.
“That wasn’t what I asked.” His voice was barely audible above the sounds of waves crashing against the shore outside. Your eyes slipped shut in a shoddy attempt to stave off the inevitable pain.
“I will never join you and I will never forgive me.” You didn’t need to look up to know he had dropped his head, hand going to his blade. You were a threat, one that he needed to take care of. Only, you weren’t a threat, not to him. But you had too much pride to tell him that. You held your tongue, waiting for death to drag you down in its tight grip, a tear slipping from your eye no matter how hard you tried to hold it in. You never thought it would end like this.
47. (Haytham Kenway)
You were careful to avoid any particularly small branches, knowing that should you hit one, he’d be more than aware of your presence. No, you couldn’t have that, so you continued forward, leaping gracefully to another, studier branch. You’d been following Haytham for a little under an hour, his deep blue cloak almost seeming natural against the solid white snow now. Just a few more minutes and you could strike; you could end this. A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips, nearly losing your balance in your cockiness of the moment.
So long as the cold winds were at your back, you were not out of the water yet. But, you were considerably closer to shore. Excitement twinkled in your eyes as Haytham stood exactly where you needed him to, your feet pushing you off the branch and towards him with a little more force than intended. A second of biting winds and you were on him, your hands pinning his arms on either side. For a full moment there was nothing but silence, his gray eyes betraying nothing as you stared into them. Ever slowly, your expression melted, a smile taking its place. His soon followed, adoration in his gaze.
“(Y/N),” he greeted, still sounding eloquent despite the fact that he was pinned beneath you.
“Haytham,” you breathed, wondering what it was he wanted. He’d left you a letter a few days ago, stating that he wished to speak with you. “What is it you wanted?”
“I think you know exactly what I want.” He growled huskily, eyes raking down your figure. You shivered, though it wasn’t entirely from the cold. You may have caught the Grand Master off guard, but he was the one that really surprised you.
48. (Jacob Frye)
Ever since you’d returned from America, Jacob had been acting different. You hadn’t been gone for very long, but the Brotherhood found it fitting that you spend a little more time amongst those who might be a better influence. Granted, Jacob and Evie weren’t necessarily bad, but you’d definitely gotten a little more aggressive since meeting the twins. You couldn’t complain too much, you’d only been gone for a few months. Not to mention, the trip wasn’t all that terrible. But from the day you returned to this very moment, Jacob had barely left your side. There were times when Evie needed to, quite literally, drag him away from you. Finally fed up with his incessant following, you turned to him with blazing eyes.
“What the hell is your problem? You’ve been following me like a lost puppy!” Immediately after your outburst, you felt a twinge of guilt. He looked so hurt, his head dropping in something akin to shame. He may have been annoying you the last couple of weeks, but that certainly didn’t give you a right to hurt him. He muttered something inaudible under his breath, top hot obscuring your view of him. “What?” You asked much quieter than last time, taking a step closer to the Englishman. A swallow worked its way down your throat when he looked to you, a strange look in his eye.
“I said,” he paused, sighing. “I missed you.” His stare caught yours, seriousness conveying in it. “I need you. I need you so bloody much.”
49. (Ezio Auditore)
Each breath sent a stab to your abdomen, the impending doom that had been looming above you for a while now, finally caving in. You weren’t going to last much longer. No matter how hard the doctor tried and no matter how hard Ezio begged, you were going to die. The thought made itself apparent in every scrape and bruise on your body. Time was dwindling with each passing second, the end presenting itself to you in the form of a bloodied sword and a scarlet stomach. The hand squeezing your own was pulling you from the embrace of death, steadfastly ignoring the beckoning of darkness. It was boldly keeping you from your own demise, guiding you back towards Earth. Only, despite its best efforts, it was only delaying the inevitable.
“Amore mio,” Ezio whispered, voice gravelly with emotion. His teeth were clenched, a clear effort to hold back his tears, to accept your fate. “I don’t ever want to live without you. Please, bella, please don’t do this to me.”
“Ezio.” His name came out like a sob, your body shaking in fear. You didn’t want to leave him, you wanted to stay. You weren’t ready to die. Your head fell limply in his directions, eyes attempting to memorize every detail of his face; from his brown orbs to the scar running through his lip, you wanted to remember it all. Your unoccupied hand reached out for his cheek, hoping to rub it along his familiar features one last time. The hope was snuffed out as your hand fell back to the ground, your eyes shutting out the world. With one last painful breath, everything disappeared. You weren’t there to hear his shouts, his cries, his pleas, his screams. You weren’t there to see his world shatter around him. And you sure as hell weren’t there to see him break.
50. (Ezio Auditore)
It was an accident, nothing more. One that most definitely could have been avoided, but an accident nonetheless. However, Ezio did not see it that way. He saw it as you being incompetent, perhaps even foolish, for attempting what you did. How were you supposed to know that there would be that many guards at a church? Honestly, what is with these people? It’s a church! There isn’t supposed to be enough guards to create a small army! Paranoia seemed to run deep in your enemies, some of them even going as far as refusing to leave their homes entirely. But bringing an army to a church was a little ridiculous. Besides, you were just using an opportunity presented to you, something that Ezio had taught you was important in your line of work. Unfortunately, that particular point doesn’t seem to extend to you trying to take out a leader of the Templar Order.
“Do you have any idea what could have happened, sciocca ragazza?” His voice was sharp, no humor present like usual. “Cosa diavolo stavi pensando?”
“It wasn’t that big-”
“Non era un grosso problema?” He laughed curtly. “It was foolish.”
“Ezio…” You tried, dropping your head to the ground. He may be mad, but he always had a weak spot for upsetting you. The guilt would just eat away at him until he caved and apologized. A few seconds ticked by, your eyes trained on the colorful carpet beneath. Just a few more minutes and…
“Mi dispiace, (Y/N).” He sighed heavily, his hand beneath your chin so you were forced to look into his eyes. “Just please,” he paused, adding to the effect of his tone, “Don’t ever do that again.” You nodded, smiling softly at him.
Summary: Ivar changed since he came back from his journey, since he lost his parents, since you got wounded trying to protect his mother. He cares a little more, hardly enough to call it a big change. But it’s something. But than he finds out about you and Ubbe and like usual he loves to make a point. Warning: A tiny little bit of smut
His mother died … his father died and he wanted to revenge both
of their deads. It maked him more angry and frustrated that he usual was but he
didn’t reacted it out on you. After days lying in bed you felt good enough to
get up after a week. You shoved the fabric from your dress over your shoulder and
looked down to the wound you had. You couldn’t really call that a battlewound
but it would leave a mark, a mark that you could tell your childeren about …
if you would have some in the future. When your fingertips scanned the wound
you flinched a little by the pain it still brought. As soon as Ivar crawled in
you pulled your dress back over your shoulder, trying not to get his attention
while you got up to wash some clothes. ‘Where are you going?’ He asked immidiatly.
You sighed in thoughts, turned around, hardly wanted to look at him. Ever since
that moment you waked up and gazed in his bleu eyes something changed. He asked
more of your attention, in the good and bad way. He was carefull but his
sarcasme about you being utterly stupid still stayed. But the way he said it
… that changed. It was like he didn’t mean it like he just to, it was like,
he saw you more like an equal? If you had know that you would risk your life a
little sooner. Still, his dominance had still impact on you, afraid but
carefully curious, that was your current mood around him. 'Washing?’ You
answered, holding up a basket with clothes, his clothes. 'Sit down.’ He pointed
towards the place that you earlier sat. 'Ivar, I really need to,’ 'It’s not
because I was away and you took an arrow for my mother that you can think to
talk back to me. Sit!’ He intterupted you. You nodded fast, placing the basket
by the door and walking back to the bed, sitting on the egde. He pulled his
body up next to you and you looked at him in an uncertain way. His eyes went to
your shoulder, shoving that little bit of fabric away until he could see the
wound you had. 'Does it hurt?’ 'What do you think?’ You asked him back, he gave you a warning glance, pressing his finger against the wound a little. 'Auuwh.’
You reacted angry, he chuckled. 'It still hurts.’ He concluded. His finger
stroked softly around the wound, leaving you with a little shiver down your
spine. It was something that he like to do, looking at that wound, like it gave
him some kind of goal for his future. His finger wandered down a little,
pushing more of your dress down to just right above your breast. And you
thought of Ubbe … he had touched you in so many ways that Ivar his touch
remind you of that night. In a split second you looked at him, only to see that
darkness in his eyes. 'You can go.’ He finally said. You jumped up, pulled your
dress good and took your basket again. When you looked at him you saw him
staring in thought to you. He knew … he knew what you and Ubbe had shared.
And that day came
sooner than you liked when you stood aside Margrethe, serving three of the
boys. It was weird, not dining in the great hall as usual. Now you were in
their place, bringing around food and ale. 'You had enough with one woman so
you thought to steal mine to?’ Ivar asked Ubbed. Sigurd his eyes widened and he
looked over his shoulder to you. 'Did you,’ he looked back to his brother,
laughing about it. You only could look down, your cheeks already flaming with
heath by the thought of where this conversation was going. 'You were dead.’
Ubbe said nonchalant, drinking from his cup, keeping an close eye to his little
brother. Ivar pushed his knife in the wood of the table. 'I’m not so dead, am
I.’ 'Mother said so.’ 'Mother is the one dead now, thanks to you.’ Ivar started
arguing. You carefully looked aside to Margrethe who swallowed tensed. Ivar
making a scene was worse than Ivar proving himself. 'Don’t talk about mother.’
Ubbe intterupted him. Ivar grabbed his cup and held it up to you without even looking,
you runned over and poured it full. You wanted to leave but he grabbed you by
the waist, keeping you right aside him. 'How was she? Good, willingly?’ 'Drunk,
I was drunk.’ You whispered in your own defens. 'So you admit to it?’ He asked
you rather harsh, his fingers creeping on the back of your knees underneath
your dress, slowly moving up. You squeezed your thights together and looked to
Ubbe for help. 'It wasn’t her fault Ivar.’ He defensed you. 'No, she is to
stupid for that.’ It was like they were talking without you in the room. Like
you weren’t there. 'She is naive
, not stupid.’ 'Can I go?’ You asked softly. His
fingers held still and he looked up to you. ‘No.’ He simply said. Sigurd and
Ubbe changed looks with each other in that moment, making Ivar probarbly more
angry than he already was. ‘I told you Y/n,’ ‘I know Ivar but your mother had a
dream about you dying and I was upset.’ You rattled fast. His eyes changed a
little and he pulled his hand back, nodding you to go. You breathed out in
relief and got as fast as possible back to Margrethe. ‘So if you can have my
woman, I can have yours?’ Ivar asked, looking aside towards Margrethe. ‘You had
her already.’ Sigurd backed his brother up. Ivar moved his lower jaw, trying to
keep his temper while he looked towards his brother. ‘Did I ask you something
brother?’ He hissed. One voice shouted that you got to get away, the other said
that you had to take a little control of the situation. Ivar changed a little,
he was more willingly to listen to you, he cared maybe a little more. ‘I’m sick
of it that people always have to dance to your expectations. Mother is dead,
Ubbe slept with your slave, deal with, don’t treat her or us any different
about it.’ Sigurd spitted out. ‘He doesn’t treat me differently.’ You reacted
in first instinct, which maked you side with Ivar and that was a very dangerous
and exciting thing to do. ‘Don’t talk.’ Ubbe advised you with a concerned look.
‘No, let her talk.’ Ivar shouted out, pointing his knife towards his brother.
Not that you had much more to say but they all stared at you so you had to. But
you couldn’t find the words so you looked to the ground, intensly trying to
find some. ‘Go home Y/n.’ Ivar commanded, his voice didn’t sound so commanding
like it just to. You looked up to him and he gave you a slow nod, was he
thanking you? Keeping you away for what could follow? What does this mean? But
you didn’t asked questions, you just walked out, leaving Margrethe alone in
what had to come.
You really couldn’t sleep, you gazed in the darkness waiting for
Ivar to crawl in. It was hours now and he didn’t came to the cabin. After
another hour you stood up, got a cloak over your dress and walked out searching
for him. The first place you looked was his brothers house but he wasn’t there,
you only saw Sigurd sleeping. So you walked to the beach, knowing that he
stared to the horizon sometimes. And it was exacly what you found, Ivar sitting
in the sand and starring. ‘Ivar?’ You asked carefull. Where you used to get
away from him every moment you had, you now seeks his company. He looked up a
little surpriced before his eyes grew distant again. ‘What are you doing here
Y/n?’ He asked you back, bored. ‘I was worried.’ ‘You never been worried
before.’ He murmured without looking back at you. You stood beside him before
you desiced to sit down, wrapping your hands around your knees. ‘More than you
think. I am maybe scared and stupid but I care sometimes to.’ You replied softly,
looking at him. Something in his eyes flinched a little but he didn’t look back
at you. ‘I’m sorry for what I did. If I had knew that you were still alive I
would never,’ your voice fadded away on the light brease there was. You thought
of that night with Ubbe while you looked to the waves hitting rolling over the sand. ‘You still think to much of him.’
He reacted, looking at you. You flattened your face and looked back at him, how
could he see that? ‘I hate it when you think of my brothers like that.’ He
whispered with that slightly warning tone in his voice. ‘I’m sorry.’ ‘You need
to forget him, I’m back, you’re mine.’ He persisted. You swallowed, nodding fastly but it wasn’t
enough for him. ‘Did you enjoyed it?’ He asked, leaning in closer to, his
fingertips on your colorbone again so he could see that wound again. ‘No.’ ‘Liar.’
He hissed low. ‘Yes, Ivar, I liked it.’ You reacted despared. He pushed you back
in the sand, hovering a little over you while his dark blue eyes studies your
face. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t know what I have to say or do to convince you of that.’ ‘I need you to forget him, I will let
you forget him.’ His hand sliding underneath your clothes, fingers roaming your
stomach, the curves of you breasts. You took a deep breath, looking back at him
while you felt that certain warmth getting through your body again. ‘Did you
forgot him already?’ He asked. You slowly shook your head … not sure why you did
it, because it was the truth or because you didn’t want him to stop. His grinn
darkened a little while he laid his hand around one of your breasts, giving it
a squeeze. He was taunting you, a weird sweet expectation spreading through
your body. You felt his warm breath against your ear, while he kissed your
neck, giving it a sharp bite. You gasped out of reaction and he chuckled about
it, moving his lips further while his hands traveled down over your stomach towards
your tights. The longing you felt wasn’t the same as with Ubbe. He was direct,
didn’t taunt you like Ivar did and you had no idea what was sweeter. You
squeezed your legs strong together and he only amused himself about it. ‘Come
on now Y/n, I know you want to.’ He murmured throught kissed througt. You didn’t
give in so he surpriced you by placing his lips on your, forcing you to let
your breath go in that kiss. You hand grabbed to his hair, trying to hold on
but at the end … you felt your legs weaken under the desire and he smiled into
the kiss, his hand covering up your female part. ‘Ivar.’ You breathed out,
almost asking for more. ‘Did you forgot him already.’ ‘If you keep asking me
that,’ ‘Simple yes or no Y/n.’ He interupted you. ‘No.’ You whispered, curving
your body up to his, meeting the touch of his hand. Your body burned, why wasn’t
it like this with Ubbe? ‘You are mine.’ ‘Yes I’m yours.’ You said hastly, a
little moan escaped your lips when he rubbed his hand a little faster. You maked a fist with his clothes and looked for a kiss again. And than all of the sudden
he pulled back. No touch, no sensation … he left you with all that burning
desire for him. ‘That’s your punishment, maybe next time I will please you with
something more.’ He teased. You just laided there, still wanting all of him and
not getting it. ‘Ivar please.’ You begged. ‘I like to hear you begging.’ He
reacted, placing his lips on yours,
squeezing your throat right on it’s place so you couldn’t ask for more. ‘Please.’
You asked again. He pulled back and smiled down at you. ‘No, go sleep.’ He
commanded. He rolled away, sitting up again, looking at the waves like nothing
happened in the first place. So you stood up, the heat that burned your body
hardly been able to hold your body up when you tried to walk away. ‘You forgot
him right?’ He asked. You turned around, looking at the smug grinn on his face.
For a moment you wanted to slap it away. ‘Yes.’ ‘Imagine that this was barly
half of what I can do to you.’ He pointed to the sand beside him. You looked at
the flattened place and walked further. The whole way back you could think of
nothing else than his touch, his fingers over your body, his kiss. This was
indeed the biggest punishment he could give you.
I wanted to share this here because, as far as commissions go, this one was pretty unique. I got a request to make realistic-looking/feeling Yu-Gi-Oh cards in the 4-Kids anime style.
They feel like real trading cards in thickness and rigidity and are the same dimensions as regular Yu-Gi-Oh cards so they’ll fit into card sleeves too. The template and layout I used to make these were both made by me and I used references and screenshots from the anime to help me do this.
All card artwork was obtained from the Yu-Gi-Oh wiki
2nd dimention Doofenshmirtz clearly has no qualms in hurting childeren as proved by his treatment of P&F in the movie. He tells Perry the Plataborg to attack Phineas and Ferb, he sends the Norm-bots after them with lasers, he tries to have them eaten for petes sake.
So, imagine, he’s just descovered a kid who causes the exact oposite of what he wants to happen happen. In fact, not only does it happen, it happens in a most spectacular fashion.