Me: *casually has 422mg of caffeine in my system bc of two Monster cans plus a Starbucks drink (yk those glass bottles in grocery stores/Walmart?) and a cinnamon caramel cold brew*
Edward: Ash, have you had any caffeine?
Me: No...
Edward: *raises eyebrow at the can of Mango Loco flavor Monster punch in my hand*
Me: This is the only one I'm having, I swear-
Edward: No, it's not. You're overcaffeinated, aren't you?
Connor: What's going on? Oh, wait-Is Ash overcaffeinated?
Me: No, I'm not. Only 422mg. I've had over 600mg at one point.
Connor: ...Doesn't the medical community say 400mg is the safe amount?
Me: ...422mg is rookie numbers (total Graystillplays reference I had to lmao)
✫〖☽-☾〗✫
Note: Basically a random fic I wrote out of boredom, this is canon related kinda, original names in the Kanièn:keha, takes place after the events of AC3 but Achilles is still alive, also Connor doesn't have the hairstyle from the end of the bc he looks better with the other one from when he's an adult, uhhhh idk what to say here
TW/CW: Mention of death, mentions of war, mentions of fire, mentions of Haytham dying (for the Haytham simps), graphic description
(Also the image is from Tumblr but idk the user who posted it sorry-)
✫〖☽-☾〗✫
Your POV
You watch the elk drink from the stream, concealed by the shadows and forest undergrowth. That massive animal could feed you and your mother for a week, maybe more if you dry the meat.
Your mother. A fierce, selfless and loving woman. The thought of her brings a small smile to your lips-but the smile fades when you see her ravaged with smallpox, a illness she had gotten from someplace in Boston.
It's why you both decided to move to the frontier-outside of any main towns , lest she get infected with yet another ailment.
That was a year ago. Your mother is still alive, battling the disease that attacks her body-but she's losing. Since you both had moved to the frontier, money, food and medicines have been scarce.
But thanks to you learning hunting, it's gotten better. Blowing a couple loose strands of your H/L H/C hair out of your face, you quietly nock an arrow in your bow.
You had made it yourself, as with the arrows. All from forest materials. Maybe you had some help in making it, but you still technically made it yourself.
Steadying your aim, you take a breath and let your arrow fly-praying your luck is good enough to get a good hit on the elk to take it down with one shot.
Your arrow lodges itself deep in the elk's neck, the serrated flint arrowhead doing its job. He goes down, and you quickly sneak over to the now corpse of the animal.
Gently taking the arrow out of the elk's neck, you study the pelt. "This'll fetch a nice price." you murmur as you hoist the elk on your shoulders.
Trudging home, you open the door to the small three room cottage you share with your mother. You and her are lucky-most only have one room to live in. Instead, you and her have your own space, as well as a space for the hearth.
You'd found this cottage while exploring the wilderness of Kanièn:keh, the traditional territory of the Kanien'kehà:ka people. (Note: Idk if I spelled that right and I'm speedrunning so I can't spellcheck-)
You and your mother don't mind living on the traditional land of a Native people, and you both respect their rights and traditions.
The Kanien'kehà:ka had taken you and your mother in their village at Kanatahséton when the two of you had left Boston-though they'd kept her in a separate dwelling since she was sick.
Nonetheless, they'd helped you. And showed you the ways of hunting, trapping, tree climbing...anything a hunter would need to survive the frontier.
You'd also learned how to cook-and how to clean and harvest your game.
"Mother?" you call, wondering if she was in bed or somewhere else.
"Here..." you hear your mother say as she adds logs to the fire in the hearth.
"I have game," you say, shifting the elk on your shoulders. "His hide and antlers should fetch a good price. And everything else should have another use."
Your mother nods, her long unbound H/C hair-same color as your own-tumbles over a shoulder, illuminating her sharper than usual features and sickly pallor along with the distinct marks of smallpox.
"I got the hearth started for you, Y/N. Use it once you've harvested the elk." your mother says, nodding to the animal on your shoulders.
You nod and head to a table near the corner of the room, setting the elk down on it. Grabbing your hunting knife from your belt, you look at the elk for a long moment and incline your head in respect. "Nià:wen." you say under your breath, muttering the Kanien'kehà word for 'thank you'-you're thanking nature for the bounty before you.
Going from the puncture in the elk's neck where your arrow had pierced it, you skin the elk's pelt.
It's a good pelt for the winter-and winter is coming. You'd have to start hunting for bigger game like bears for warmer coats and blankets soon.
Pushing those thoughts aside, you look at the meat of the elk and start cutting at it. It takes an hour or so to skin the elk and gather anything useful.
Taking some of the elk meat, you hang it above the hearth on a string. Now you take some dried hare off the string and set it in a bowl. Taking some herbs-lemongrass, thyme, rosemary-you sprinkle it into the bowl. Now taking some of the undried elk meat, you toss it into the bowl.
You look at the pot on the hearth-your mother must have left some water from a nearby stream to boil for the stew. Putting the spiced meat in, you stir the pot and sigh.
After some time, the stew looks ready. A stew of hare and elk-what could be better?
It's also your mother's favorite stew. Grabbing a pair of extra bowls, you ladle the stew in the bowls and head to your mother's room.
She's lying on her bed, looking sickly. You slowly approach her, gently giving her a bowl of stew. Once, she was strong enough to come to the hearth and eat with you, but now...she's too ravaged to do so. You're afraid she's going to pass on soon...
Your mother takes the bowl with shaking, thin hands and takes a sip. "You made my favorite stew?" her voice is small and weak, but overflowing with appreciation. You nod, feeling a smile on your face. And smiling isn't something you do often enough as it is. You take a sip from your own bowl, and notice your mother growing weaker by the minute.
Shit.
No.
She can't be dying...right? Right?
"Mom?" you ask after nearly finishing your bowl.
No. No no no no no-
"Y/N," she rasps, finishing her stew and laying back. Her cornflower blue gaze rests on you "...My child. You...your skin and eyes look so much like your father's...I...wish he were here to see you now."
You hold back a sob. Your father-as your mother had told you-died in some unrecorded, unnamed skirmish as a conscript for the British army when you were barely six months old. The only thing you have of him, is his wedding ring-which your mother had given you when you turned 18-and you wear it on a chain around your neck. Your mother still wears her wedding ring, she had never fallen in love or remarried anyone after your father's death-which is pretty damn faithful if you say so yourself.
"Y-you're...all...all I...I h-have..." you say, the words choked. "Please...p-please, Ma...don't...d-don't leave me."
Your mother shakes her head. "I'll never leave you, my darling Y/N. I'll always be here, just...look for the eagle feathers..."
She's growing weaker by the second. No. No, no, no, please no. You want to be taken instead of her...
"Look...look for a man in a red brick manor. Past these mountainous hills," your mother says. "Ask for...ask for Achilles Davenport. He will...h-he will guide you..."
"Achilles Davenport?" you question. "Ma, say something more. I need answers. I need to know what you're-"
You notice your mother take her last breath and you grab her hand.
But it's too late.
Your mother's gone.
And you're alone.
"Mom?" you mumble, your voice broken.
No response.
The cottage is empty now that your mother's gone.
"...No...please..." you mumble, feeling tears sliding down your cheeks. And then you let out a scream that's so loud, so anguished, that your heart breaks even more.
You alternate between sobbing and screaming for a while, before you steel yourself. Gently taking your mother's wedding off her finger, you put it on the chain alongside your father's. You then grab a shovel...
The process is silent, and you only let a couple sobs escape you dig your mother's grave.
Placing the body of your mother under the willow in front of your cottage-a place she loved to be in the warmer months before she was too sick to move-was difficult. It meant that she was really gone now.
And there's nothing you can do about it.
After silently mourning for a time, you head back inside and pack your things. You leave your mother's possessions, though-let the scavengers have it. Especially since it was smallpox infested.
Taking the rest of the dried hare and elk off the string above the hearth, you head for the door...but look back one final time.
The cottage is now empty-the table clean of clutter, the hearth snuffed, not a soul in sight.
You turn heel and don't look back, thinking of what your mother had told you. Achilles Davenport...and a manor of red bricks just beyond the mountainous hills of the frontier.
Timeskip, your POV
After a long trek, you see the manor your mother was speaking of. Touching the chain around your neck with both your parents' wedding rings on it, you take a breath and trudge along to the front door.
You knock, wondering if anyone will answer.
And someone does answer.
A man-Native in appearance, which means he's most likely from Kanatahséton, the Kanien'kehà:ka village that had taken you and your mother in-opens the door with a confused look on his face.
And you can't blame him, since you're a stranger. "Is there anything I can help you with?" he ask.
You nod. "I'm looking for an Achilles Davenport."
"Who told you about him?" the man asks, seeming suspicious as he leans against the doorframe. And...you have to admit that's kind of hot.
"My mother." you reply quickly, trying to get your mind off how the man's muscles flexed beneath his clothes as he shifted position on the doorframe. "Her name is-was-M/N (mother's name). M/N L/N."
"Was?" he asks as he raises an eyebrow. "What happened to her?"
"...Smallpox." you say, feeling tears burning. "A day or so ago. I had to bury her myself."
The man's face softens. "My condolences. What of your father?"
You sigh. "Dead as well. Died in some unnamed, unrecorded skirmish fighting for the British as a conscript when I was barely six months old."
He nods. "I feel your pain. My mother died in a fire, and my father...he wasn't in the picture."
"My condolences to you as well, then..."
"I apologize," the man says. "I...got too personal."
You shrug. "So did I. Don't worry about it. And...my name's Y/N, by the way."
"Connor," the man-Connor-says. "You said you were looking for Achilles?"
Connor shifts position on the doorframe again, and you have bite the inside of your cheek to keep from blushing. "...Yeah," you reply, slightly embarrassed. "My mother said he'd...guide me or some gibberish."
He considers this for a moment and then heaves a sigh. "Achilles is...on business right now. You can come in and wait for him if you want to, but I don't how long it will be until he returns."
Connor gets off the doorframe and steps to the side, a silent offer for you to come in. You take it, and walk inside. The manor's old-and it's certainly seen better days. Like...there's an emptiness here, despite the clutter.
"Sorry for the mess," Connor says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "It...isn't much. Mostly an old house that's falling apart with covered furniture and whatnot."
"It's alright, I've lived in bare, messy places before." you reply, your mind flashing back to the cottage you had shared with your mother. It seems a lifetime ago now...
"You seem to be a hunter of some sort," he remarks. "Though you also seem to be a city person."
"I lived in Boston 'til a year ago, that's why." you reply.
"Boston?"
"That's long behind me." you say, intending to end any further discussion of your life in the city.
He nods. "Alright, I won't pry. But...where'd you get the bow and arrows? They look finely made."
"These?" you gesture to the bow and quiver of arrows on your back. "I made them myself, so my mother and I could survive frontier life by not starving or freezing."
"...Oh. They look like they were crafted with a master's hand."
Was Connor...complimenting you in some way?
You study your hand for a moment. Rough and callused, as they had been since a year ago when you started hunting.
He smiles a bit-the first smile you've seen on his face. And...you can't lie, it looks kind of cute. "Yeah...it is. Like you were...I don't know, made for this path?" he says, trying to find his words.
(Note: Yeah yeah a little cliche but I couldn't resist okay lmao)
You smile back. "Thanks."
Timeskip, Connor's POV
It's been a couple weeks since Y/N came to the Davenport Homestead.
And he honestly enjoys every moment of their company. Sure, their past is a thing they don't talk about, but he has own complicated past-so he gets it.
Y/N loves hunting with him, though. Whether in the forest surrounding the Homestead or on the mountainous hills separating the Homestead from the rest of the frontier.
Right now, he and Y/N are tracking a bobcat. "...I've never hunted this high before." Y/N admits as they both walk on the top of a hill surrounding the area. "I might break some bones."
"I'll catch you before that happens. he replies, nocking an arrow in his bow.
They do the same, with a small teasing smile on their face. "Ever the noble knight, Connor."
He rolls his eyes, but smiles. "I wouldn't let you fall. Not when I enjoy being in your company."
They laugh. "Why, thank you. I rather enjoy being in your company too."
He smiles at Y/N before spotting a bobcat and silently pulling his bowstring back.
Y/N readies their bow as well-bobcats can be a pain in the ass and attack you if they spot you.
After steadying his aim, he lets the arrow fly, watching it lodge deep into the bobcat's side. "Dammit." he mutters. He didn't even aim for the neck...and he doesn't know why.
Y/N fortunately acts fast and shoots an arrow, lodging it deep into the bobcat's neck and killing it.
"What're we doing with the pelt and meat?" they ask him.
"The pelt could be used for warming the manor. The meat can go to Myriam-she'll know what to do with it."
Y/N cocks their head. "Myriam?"
"Someone who lives on the land around the manor," he replies. "There are many who do so. She's a huntress-you might like her."
Y/N chuckles. "Sounds like I would..."
He smiles at them before heading to the now dead bobcat to skin it. He's always been stoic-but it seems being around Y/N shows his true nature of kindness. They kneel on the rocky ground, studying the bobcat's corpse. "This pelt should fetch a nice price if we're selling it." they say before forcing the bobcat's mouth open. "There's good teeth, too. What do you think Connor?"
He nods, inspecting the dead bobcat. "I'll take the pelt and the teeth...you worry about everything else."
Y/N nods, starting to harvest the kill. He helps, pocketing a couple of the teeth.
He has an idea.
Brushing a finger on one of the animal fangs on the small necklace around his neck, he smiles a bit. Maybe Y/N would like what he has in store...
Timeskip, your POV
As you divvy up the the hare meat for dinner in the kitchen, Connor appears beside you. "I'll be going hunting." he says, giving you a small pat on the shoulder.
"Hunting?" you ask, as you go to hang strips of hare above the hearth to dry. "Don't we have enough game already?"
"One can never be too careful," Connor replies. "I'll be back in a bit."
And then something unexpected happens.
Connor suddenly is behind you...and he...he hugs you. And from behind by the waist, too.
You're so shocked you don't focus on making dinner. Connor, who had confessed he didn't like touching people and vice versa...was hugging you by the waist from behind.
"...Connor?" you ask as you put the knife down.
"Hm?" he replies, his head now resting on your shoulder. "Oh..."
He realizes what he's doing and lets go of you as fast as he had hugged you.
A shame...you miss the feeling of Connor's arms wrapped around your wrist.
Wait, what?
"I...got carried away." he says, going a shade of berry red.
"Come back safe..." you mumble, going back to cutting up the hare in front of you.
"...I will."
And then Connor's gone. You continue preparing the meat-going directly into a hare, venison and elk stew you're concocting.
You find the absence of Connor's presence near you leaves a void. And you just miss his arms around your waist...and the weight of his head on your shoulder.
...You're falling for him, aren't you?
Maybe 'falling' isn't the right word. Maybe 'fallen' is more accurate.
Either way...you're feeling something for Connor. Something romantic.
Ah, dammit.
You furrow your brow as you get back to cooking.
Connor's POV
His mind is usually silent while hunting.
...Well, not today.
He just has a lot on his mind. Firstly? Y/N.
Okay, all his thoughts are of Y/N. He just...he just can't get him out of his head.
He's never felt like this for anyone before. So he doesn't know how to deal with it.
As he climbs a tree to find a nest with eagle feathers, he's still thinking of them.
Hunting doesn't seem to quiet his mind like it usually did.
Y/N's just...beautiful. Inside and out.
Their S/T skin is smooth and unblemished, their H/L H/C hair looks soft like it's on a cloud, those E/C eyes of theirs are nearly like a god's and that mouth of theirs look so, so kissable-
Wait...kissable?
He almost falls out of the tree at the thought. But he goes to the eagle nest and and grabs a couple shedded feathers.
Perfect.
He pockets the eagle feathers and keeps moving, in search of a wolf.
He finds one pretty quickly-a straggler in the pack. So he kills it and takes everything-but pockets the teeth.
He makes his way back, stopping by Myriam's camp to drop off the wolf pelt and meat. "Myriam," he says before the huntress can walk away. "Do you have any rope? Just...enough for a small necklace."
He gestures to the necklace around his neck as the says the last part. Myriam smiles. "I'll get some for you."
She disappears inside her camp-more specifically, one of the bark houses in it-and comes back with the perfect amount of rope. "Here you are," she says. A small, good natured-and teasing-smirk appears on her face. "This for someone special?"
"...Sure." he mumbles, feeling his face heat up.
"I wish you the best of luck, then, Connor."
He chuckles. "I'll need it."
(Note: I swear I was so tempted to reference Shay here and have Connor say 'I make my own luck' I'm sorry lmao)
Timeskip, your POV
You're jut finishing dinner when you see Connor beside you, bracing his hands on the counter. "You were gone a while," you remark as you hand him a bowl of stew. "Good hunt?"
Connor nods and takes the bowl. "Yeah..."
He drains the bowl and reaches over you to ladle more stew into his bowl. You move aside slightly, just to make it easier for him.
You're guessing that what happened earlier isn't a topic to speak of.
Not that you mind.
You sip some of your stew, watching Connor for a moment.
Though he looks intimidating-especially with his hood on-he's...actually pretty handsome.
He's also a total innocent cinnamon roll.
You notice Connor take some rope out of one of his pockets or pouches and you raise an eyebrow. "What's that for?"
"...Nothing important." he replies as he fiddles with the rope.
"Alright then..."
You leave Connor be...you need space to think, and he needs space to do...whatever he's doing.
You find a tree and sit atop it, sighing. These feelings...being in the same room as Connor makes your stomach get flippity. And when he's close to you, your heartrate pick up.
From what your mother had told you...this is love. But she also said the experience was different for everyone.
Muttering a curse under your breath, you stay high in the tree. Needing to mull things over.
Timeskip, Connor's POV
He fiddles with the necklace, finally getting it after a couple hours. It looks...pretty good.
Y/N's been out for a while now.
He gets concerned and pockets the finished necklace, going to look for them. After a few minutes, he finds them sitting atop a tree. The moonlight hits Y/N at such an angle it makes them seem like a god of some kind.
He feels his breath hitch in his throat as he gazes at that image...of them sitting in the tree, with the moonlight hitting them just right.
Finally remembering how to breathe, he quietly makes his way up to where Y/N's sitting. He feels the urge to wrap his arms around their waist from behind as he had done earlier, but he doesn't do it.
He just taps them on the shoulder instead.
Your POV
You know it's Connor when you feel a tap on your shoulder. "How'd you find me?" you ask.
You can tell he's smiling a bit. "I just had to look for the tree that screams 'This is the Y/N thinking tree'."
You laugh. "Okay...that's fair. What is it?"
"I have something for you. I don't know if you'll like it, but...I want you to have it."
In the moonlight, you can see Connor sitting next to you on the branch and pulling something out of his pocket. "A necklace?" you ask as you study what Connor's holding out to you. It's a necklace of rope, obviously. But with small eagle feathers, bobcat teeth and wolf fangs...
It's simple, yet beautiful.
"Go on," he says, still keeping the necklace in his hand outstretched to you. "Take it."
"Connor...it's...this is for me?"
He nods. "Only for you, Y/N. Take it."
"...Alright." you say, gently taking the necklace in your hands. "Here." Connor says, gently taking the necklace and placing around your neck. "Allow me."
"I..." you mumble, at a loss for words. This is so tender of him...
Connor ties the rope at the back and his hands linger for a moment, just...hovering. You feel his thumb gently brush the nape of your neck, and you feel your heart skip a beat or two before speeding up.
"You're...you're just perfect," he mumbles. "How can a human being be this perfect?"
"...I am?" you ask.
"You are," Connor agrees before his hand plays with some loose strands of your H/L H/C hair. "Kononroqhwa..."
You recognize the Kanien'kehà word for 'I love you'. It must've slipped your mind that Connor grew up speaking Kanien'kehà as his native language.
"...You love me?" you ask, feeling your face burn hotter. You weren't expecting Connor to say that.
You see him nod in your peripheral vision. You feel your face up even more as you mull it over. "I...I love you too, Connor." you mumble. You feel a hand on your cheek-Connor's hand. It's...comforting.
But also nerve-wracking. "Connor?" you ask, a bit hesitant.
"Hm?" he replies, keeping his hand on your cheek.
"You...you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen..." you say, feeling your face burn hotter.
Connor shifts his body on the branch, and the moonlight falls in such a way that you can see his face. He leans in close, his warm breath on your lips in the otherwise chill autumn air.
"You...you're like a god, when the moonlight shines on you." Connor mumbles, his lips barely brushing your own.
And then he kisses you. Soft, tentative, and yet...filled with some kind of longing too.
You kiss back, completely lost in the moment. Connor pulls away after some time, resting his forehead on your own.
"You want to know something?" he asks, the hand he has on your cheek playing with a loose strand of your H/L H/C hair.
"Hm?"
"...That was my first kiss."
You chuckle at that. "Mine too..."
"I was thinking you would've had quite the batch of admirers back in Boston," he teases. "Ones that you may have...been with."
You laugh. "I had some admirers, yeah. But I never took them up."
"Why not?"
"Uh...I just wasn't interested." you reply, shrugging. "And I did have a sick mother to take care of."
"Right...I'd forgotten."
"It's alright," you say, taking Connor's hand. "It's...not that easy to remember."
He nods, heaving a small sigh. "Y/N...can I...can I kiss you again?"
You nod. "You don't have to ask."
And so he kisses you again.
Prologue, your POV
It's been some months since you and Connor confessed your feelings for each other. Now...it was good. You've joined the Assassin Brotherhood, fighting for humanity's freedom.
You and Connor still go hunting together-as often as you can get. But right now, you're taking Connor to the cottage you had lived in with your mother before her death.
As expected, scavengers had gotten to it. As you though they would, the scavengers took your mother's smallpox-infested possessions without knowing it was diseased.
"This...is where you lived?" Connor asks as he looks at the cottage. You nod. "My mother and I found this place abandoned, and I fixed it up into a home. Now...it's empty with mere specters of memories haunting it."
He looks saddened, and takes your hand. "Where did you...where did you bury her?"
Your mind flashes back to the day your mother had died. To the screams of pure, shredding agony you had screamed. You wonder if Connor had heard, but being as far as he was...it probably wasn't possible. "I heard a scream from here..." he mumbles. "That...that was you...wasn't it?"
You nod and sigh. "It was...and I didn't have the materials for a tombstone, so...It was so damn sudden. And I had to make do..." You jerk your chin to the weeping willow in front of the cottage. "I buried my mother where she liked to be most before she was too sick to get out of her bed."
Connor squeezes your hand, his thumb rubbing circles on your knuckles in a soothing way. "I'm so, so, sorry, my love...we'll get a tombstone for her. From what you've said...I would've liked her."
You smile a tiny bit. "She would've liked you too, you know." He simply chuckles and pulls you in for a tight hug, one arm around your waist and his free hand brushing through your H/L H/C hair.
You just relax. And when you look towards the doorway...you could be insane, but you could've sworn you saw your mother in the doorway. With a man. He has your S/T skin and E/C eyes, with raven hued hair...he's got to be your father. They smile at you, and you smile back.
You look away for a moment, but when you look back...they're gone.
You want to sob a bit, but Connor's hug is comforting you.
At least you got to see your parents one last time...
And that last time was enough to keep you together for the life ahead of you.
With Connor. With the Assassin Brotherhood.
You can live with yourself now...after your mother's death, you were silently imploding on yourself...and Connor had pulled you out of that hole, out of that void of depression and shame and guilt and self-hate.
Connor.
Your...your friend through many dangers. Your lover who had helped you get back up on your feet after your mother's death had crippled you.
Now...you feel inner peace.
✫〖☽-☾〗✫
Me: That took way too long-sorry guys school's back, my parents are being annoying and I got into the Shatter Me series like yesterday and HOLY FUCK IS AARON WARNER HOT AND THE BOOKS ARE SO GOOD IM ON UNRAVEL ME AHHHH-
Haytham: *sips tea* Oh, dear God...not more books-
Me: Shush Haytham, you pompous Brit-
Haytham: HEY! YOU UNCOUTH COLONIST-
Me: Excuse me?
Edward: *walks in* What the fuck's going on?
Haytham: Ash is simping for another book character again-
Me: Wow, Haytham. Way to be a tattle, you're worse than my brother-
Haytham: I take offense to that *sips tea with that resting bitch face (yk that fanart with Haytham sipping tea and him having that resting bitch face? that's the one I'm referencing lmao-)