All the little things (Altair x Insecure!Reader)

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SONG RECOMMENDATION: Beautiful by Bazzi

WARNING: This story contains subjects that may be depressing in some ways. Please do not read if you are effected by this kind of thing. Also, this is only MY OPINION of how some things in this chapter will go down. This chapter is about the reader feeling inferior and not being happy in her body. I, myself, struggle with my body image and thought of writing this chapter for myself and anyone else who is struggling. You are all beautiful in your own way, and never forget that Nathan Drake loves you! (If you can name the game he comes from, I will love you forever.)

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The dirt and sand of the training ground stained your face as you swung at the hay dummy again. Training as an assassin had its ups and downs, and the heat coupled with the sweat accumulating on your brow was definitely a down to the job. You tried to strip off as many layers of clothes as possible without being stark naked, but even with a short sleeve shirt tucked into your black trousers wasn't enough to keep the humid heat of Masyaf off you.

Your grunts and screams resonated throughout the courtyard, thankfully no other assassin was around. Probably off doing missions and killing targets, gaining skill and knowledge from the creed. But you had decided to stay back, to train harder and hopefully have some muscle replace your 'fat'. Even growing up, people always made fun of you because when you would lean over while sitting down, they would say you had "rolls for days". You always tried to do the right thing, to ignore and brush the crude comments off, but it always got to you and added to the already sleepless nights.

"Still training, I see?" A voice called to you from the courtyard, and you breathed heavily and turned to see the source of the noise. Yana, a new recruit and a beautiful young woman, sarcastically said as she waltzed into and across the courtyard. You huffed a bit more, trying to get some oxygen into your lungs from the training exercise a minute ago. "Yes, I am. Altaïr hates slow-moving assassins, so I figured I'd try to train more." You told her, twirling the sword around in your hands by the hilt. Yana scoffed obnoxiously, crossing her arms over her large chest. "Well, it won't pay off." She spat at you, as if you were a small child she was talking to. "I'm sorry?" You asked, your head snapping to meet her gaze when she said the words.

"You heard me, Y/N. You will never be one of us." With every word she stepped towards you until she was face to face with you. You stared into her eyes, not wanting to show how much her words were truly getting to you. But your eyes betrayed you, and tears welled up as your resolve crumbled under her harsh words. "And this thing you have for Altaïr, he will never want you. I mean look at you! You look like you've spent too much time in the kitchen and not enough time on the training grounds. He will never love you." The words cut deeper than any knife ever could, and before you could even respond she shoved you back by your shoulders. Catching you off guard, you couldn't catch your balance in time. Your body hit the hard ground of the courtyard, the feeling of the gravel and rocks digging into your back made you wince in pain.

Yana appeared in your vision as she towered over you, and she squinted down at you and had her arms by her side. She scoffed at you, and you could tell she was enjoying seeing you so broken. You didn't show it, but she could tell internally you were dying to cry out and scream. But you held your tongue, and she rolled her baby blue eyes when you didn't say anything. Your gaze remained on the dirt in front of you, after sitting up and holding your weight on your hands. "Stay down, novice. You are where you belong." She finished, and glared daggers at you before waltzing off to more than likely seduce someone. The courtyard was quiet now, save for the rustling breeze that would blow through the training grounds every now and then. Yana's words echoed through your mind and didn't stop, not even after you heaved yourself off the ground and got back up onto your feet.

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