asscreedkinkmeme | Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed [Fills]

It's not exactly what the Prompt Master asked for, but I enjoyed filling what I could. I'll probably write more to go with it, but no promises.

http://www.fanfiction.net/s/7537587/1/

Ahhh, my first time posting a fill. Ahem. This is apparently going to be a multi-chapter ordeal. I... didn't mean for that to happen, but what can you do?

Original prompt is here: http://forkinsocket.livejournal.com/19704.html?thread=3621880#t3621880

Mafia AU.

Except, it's different; now, in the previous meme, it was based on the Italian branch, with Ezio and Feddy going about, but this time, I want it based on ALL the sects.

Particularly, I want WARFARE. Nikolai pops shit with Cross, Altair is the head honcho of his family, and ...

YOU KNOW.

STUFF.

And Desmond is the unfortunate Domino's pizza guy who comes in at the wrong time and place?

GO WILD.

=====
=====

Ever since his cousin had (accidentally) gotten him fired from his last job as a bartender, Desmond had been making efforts to avoid the other man. It wasn't that he disliked Ezio -- quite the opposite. Ezio was a fun, intelligent guy, friendly enough when he wasn't set on murdering people -- and those people usually deserved it. It was just that trouble followed the friendly Italian everywhere. Everywhere. He had, after all, managed to get Desmond fired just by being related to him.

So when Desmond, starting on his second week of his new job as a pizza delivery guy, knocked on the door that he knew for a fact did not belong to Ezio, only to have it opened by none other than Ezio himself, he began to seriously consider that maybe the universe had some sort of grudge against him.

"Desmond!" Ezio's exclamation was a happy one, albeit confused. "What are you--" Then he caught sight of the pizza, and he smiled. "Ahh, you've found another employer! I'm glad."

Desmond very seriously considered having an actual conversation with Ezio. It didn't take long for him to decide against it. "That'll be $10.50." He offered the pizza to Ezio, earning himself a confused look from his cousin.

"But I did not order..."

"Sure you did. $10.50." He shoved the pizza forward more insistently. "C'mon, Ezio, I can't afford to get fired again. Whaddaya think is gonna happen when I go back there with a cold pizza and no money"

Relenting, Ezio withdrew his wallet. "My offer from before is still open, you realize."

"Uh-huh. I'll consider it if I ever rethink why I ran away six years ago, alright?"

Ezio looked ready to protest again when someone called from deeper in the house. It was a voice that Desmond both recognized and wasn't eager to hear more of. "Ezio, what is taking so long?"

"Just a minute!" Ezio called over his shoulder, before looking back at Desmond and offering him a 20. "Buona fortuna , Desmond. I should get back to work." Desmond nodded wordlessly and took the twenty from Ezio, eager to be away from the place before the police showed up. He knew from a lot of experience that he wished he didn't have that Ezio was skilled enough to not get caught. Knowing that he wouldn't be called into the station to pick his cousin out of lineup was enough to mollify Desmond somewhat.

"Tell your dad I said hi," Desmond offered, but that was all he said before he took off, eager to be away as soon as possible.

=+=+=+=+=

Ezio set the pizza Desmond had handed him aside just as Machiavelli peered around the corner and into the foyer. There was a frown on the younger man's face. "Ezio, who was that?"

"Desmond," Ezio replied lightly, not as all surprised when Machiavelli's expression darkened.

"And you just let him leave?"

"Desmond will not tell anyone what he saw."

"Really. Then why was he here?"

Ezio hesitated a moment, trying (and failing) to not grin as he gestured towards the pizza. Outside he heard the tell-tale rumble of Desmond's motorcycle starting up. "Making a delivery. Perhaps he thought it would be funny to see the great Machiavelli eating pizza in the middle of a job."

Machiavelli gave the pizza a somewhat disdainful look before shaking his head. "I see he found another job in the wake of your idiocy at the Carolina."

Ezio's smile vanished. "That was not my fault!" It was something like the twentieth time he'd protested his innocence. "It was one of Altaïr's new recruits that decided to pick a fight!"

But Machiavelli was ignoring him, slipping back into the living room. "Of course." He carefully stepped around the man bleeding out on the expensive Persian rug. "Tell me, why did you think it was a good idea to let Desmond leave after he witnessed us here?"

"Desmond will not turn us in," Ezio insisted. He swept after Machiavelli and stepped towards the living room fireplace. "He is a good man and loyal to his family--"

"Which is why he ran away from his home when he sixteen."

"--even if he'd rather not get involved," Ezio finished stubbornly. He approached the fireplace,e where he'd been working before Desmond had shown up. "You are too paranoid, Machiavelli." Ezio knelt and began pushing at the bricks of the fireplace wall. "He stood up for me even at the risk of being fired after the fight, you know, even when-- aha!" One of the bricks revealed itself to be a false wall, and fell inward when Ezio pressed at it. "I found it!" He reached inside and withdrew a small, heavy metal box, about the size of a hardcover novel, from the tiny storage compartment behind the false brick.

Machiavelli stepped forward, not entirely able to hide his eagerness. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. Barbarigo was a paranoid man, but he was also cheap." He tapped a logo on the metal box. "This is a Strauss. Bullet resistant, fire proof, resistant to high-speed impacts -- even one as small as this, plus the miniature panic room to hide it in, must have cost thousands of dollars." Ezio reached back into the fireplace and refitted the false brick. "Will take the ones we found in his office and bedroom, of course, but he would not spend so much money on a decoy." Smiling in satisfaction, Ezio rose and turned to face Machiavelli. He offered the box out to the other man. "Now. Shall we?"

Machiavelli hesitated, but then smiled just faintly and took the box from Ezio. "Very well, then."

=+=+=+=+=

The drive from the scene of their latest job to da Vinci's home was supposed to be simple and straightforward.

As Machiavelli had pointed out, they really shouldn't have counted on that. Ezio hadn't, of course, but even he had to admit that encountering a familiar, one-armed man standing in the middle of the road was not something he'd expected. Ezio wasn't sure what Malik wanted with him, but he had a pretty good idea. Carefully he pressed on the brakes, letting the car roll to a stop a good twenty feet away from Malik. He didn't believe the many, many, many varied rumors that Altaïr's right-hand-man was capable of inhuman feats, but he also wasn't going to risk being proven painfully wrong without a good reason for it.

Besides. The two might be from different families and working under different 'organizations', but they had known each other since Ezio was just a child. He had goo reason to worry that Malik would make him regret misbehaving.

"Wait here," Ezio murmured to Machiavelli. Then he threw the car into park, pushed open the driver's side door, and stepped out smiling and striding towards his rival's second-in-command. "Buonasera, Malik!" Malik didn't return the greeting, which Ezio had expected. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"No pleasantries tonight, Ezio." Malik's tone was clipped, business-like. Just faintly strained, Ezio thought. His smile melted away. "I'm here to deliver a message. That's it."

"In the middle of night." Ezio folded his arms and glanced around. "This far out of town."

"Of course." Malik strode towards Ezio. "No one will hear us here." When Ezio opened his mouth to retort, Malik made a short, slashing gesture with his right hand-- his only hand. "We have no time, Ezio. Listen to me." He leaned in close to Ezio and dropped the volume of his voice. "Rodrigo Borgia."

Ezio frowned. He'd heard of the man, heard of his connections, but... "What about him?"

"The list you stole from the man you killed tonight." Malik's expression and tone of voice were both pointedly neutral. Ezio didn't question how he knew what he and Machiavelli had been up to. "It will implicate Rodrigo Borgia." Malik hesitated. "Altaïr believes that the Borgia are part of something far greater than you are anticipating." And then Malik stepped back, leaving Ezio to give him a startled look. Malik had turned to leave by the time Ezio found his voice again.

"Wait!" Ezio took a step forward, reaching out. "Hold on. Why are you telling me this?" Silence. "Malik, why?"

Malik held his silence for several, impossibly long seconds. Ezio thought he wasn't going to say anything at all, but then: "We believe that our families' policy of mutual noninterference cannot continue." He looked over his shoulder at Ezio. "Tell your father of our meeting here. He will understand." And then Malik turned and strode away, waiting for no argument. Ezio offered none, and simply frowned after him.

But Malik abruptly stopped again and turned, his expression one of confusion. "One more thing, Ezio."

"Yes?"

"I saw a motorcyclist pass by here earlier. Did you really have a pizza delivered to you in the middle of a mission?"

To that Ezio could only blink, and then burst out into laughter.

=====
=====

There we go! I hope you enjoy! ♥

(not OP) "Enjoy" is far too mildly put. I adore everything about this already. Poor Desmond XD

Oooh, I like this. Very nice, writeanon, can't wait to see where this is going!

Thank you! Desmond's kind of getting the short end of the stick in this story, the poor guy.

Thanks, readanon! The idea just sort of devoured my brain, so hopefully part 2 will be soon.

OMGWTFBBQ SOMEONE FILLED THIS.

AND OMG IT WAS MADE OF AWESOME.

Seriously, this was utterly fantastic and exactly what I had hoped for. You rock!!!!!!!!!

Bookmarking, now! Forgot to do that the first time and it took forever to find it again, but I found quite a few parts posted up, so the search was worth it! I'm so glad I found this story again!

Keep up the good work!

You are very very welcome OP, it was my pleasure!!

(I'm not sure if the delicious archive is still there, I think it might've been lost when the company switched over, but I've just been going through every page of the meme to find stuff to tide me over until Tuesday, haha.)
Oooh, if there's anything I get, it's life being obstinate, especially the swamped-in-schoolwork bit. I'm glad to hear you're planning on continuing this, though! I will just wait here all happily anticipatory :D and I hope life stops being a pain.
No don't feel bad! I usually don't leave comments on stuff, even anonymously[too nervous, most of the time :/] but I couldn't not comment on this. It's too good, and I wanted to make sure keeping an eye on this thread wasn't a fruitless pursuit, since I know a lot of other threads have been seemingly abandoned with no notice. And now you're just making me blush~, haha, I love you too!

Will this be finished? I must read more! I love Stephen Lynch, and to read a fill based off one of my favourite songs?

Please come back writeanon!

I just read all of this in one go, and it's just what I needed to remember why I liked this fandom in the first place. I hadn't been around much and only poked my head back in after playing Revelations, and it's a true pleasure to find things like this still. :3

I love your take on the characters. I LOVE the way you write Malik processing his feelings, and the depth you create. Keep up the amazing work!

OP here, thank you sooo much for this Anon, I just love the h/c and the recruits being so protective of their master, it's just gorgeous. I'm sorry it took me so long to comment, I actually read this on my phone just before heading off to the wilderness with no internet and couldn't get time to post a reply. I love Ezio noticing the smell of his own bed, a lovely detail. And so you know, I would love to read more, but even if there isn't any more, I am so happy that you filled my prompt :D thank you

writer!anon here after only the most hectic week of my life so far lol

There shall be more! I'm not too sure how much more, but I'm going to try and hit every point you asked for (cause hell, I get all girly and mushy when I think about it) before it ends, but I can't imagine this being anymore than 2-3 chapters.

I'm working on the next right now, so it might be up tonight, or tomorrow.

It wasn’t often he dreamed so vividly. Usually his dreams were watery at best; snippets could be recalled, but this, this was more than a dream. Ezio and Frederico were playing in the palazo: a game of hide and seek with a little four year old Claudia. From the bench, Maria vigilantly watched over them while mending something of Giovanni’s. For a while, he just watched in placid bliss at his younger days; when chasing Templars and doing the dirty work of his friends was the least of his problems.
Suddenly, the dream halted. There was a strong sting on his back, jolting Ezio awake from his nostalgia.

“Ow!” He croaked, voice cracking unceremoniously. He tried to move away, but a firm hand gripped his arm, keeping him in place. After a moment, his eyes adjusted, and he could make out Cirino sitting in front of him.

“It is alright, Master Ezio,” Cirino said calmly, holding up a wet rag. “I am only cleaning your wounds. Are you thirsty?”

“Yes...” came the apathetic reply. He couldn’t help but make a face at how horribly his voice sounded.

Cirino turned, and Ezio followed his look to see two novices standing at the door. “Tell the others outside to fetch Luciano; tell him to bring fresh water and something soft for him to eat.”

The novices bowed slightly, one opening the door and relaying the message to the other two novices outside the door. Ezio cocked a brow, looking up to Cirino as he turned back.

“Why are they positioned out there? Didn’t I –” He was cut short, inhaling sharply when he tried to sit himself up on his elbows. Immediately, Cirino’s hands were hovering his sides. As carefully as he could, without touching his back, Cirino helped Ezio roll over, then it up.

“You did send them out, but we caught them before they left,” the recruit explained, lifting Ezio’s arms up and winding bandages around his torso.

“Where are... Leonardo? Niccolo?”

“Somewhere, I presume. No one has been allowed into the hideout, however.”

“What for?”

“We wanted no one to disturb you. You’ve been asleep for a better portion of the day. I would say it’s... oh, around dinner time. Not yet dusk.”

Ezio sat there in silence, contemplating. Cirino finished with the bandages just as Luciano came in with the two novices from outside. Giovanni and Aligiero took positions by the door, standing beside Desideria and Girodano. Cirino picked up the dirty rags and water, taking them out of the room to clean them. Luciano stepped forward, offering Ezio a bowl of broth with vegetables, and semi-cold water.

Damned if it wasn’t the best food he had ever had. But he’d just merit that to the fact he hadn’t had any except stale bread.

“Tell me,” He said, after taking a large drink of water. “Why is no one here? They wouldn’t have disturbed me had I been sleeping.”

“We’re sorry, maestro,” Aligiero spoke up. “We sent them away so that they wouldn’t be subject to possibly seeing you in such a state.”

“This would not be the first time Leonardo, or even my mother and sister, saw me battered.”

“They will return soon,” he offered softly.

Something in that sentence made Ezio pause. Still eating, he cast a glance to the recruits. They’re eyes danced between looking around the Grandmaster’s room and him; they always returned to him, though. He had never seen such genuine concern from them before... Or, he had been to oblivious to notice it.

There was a knock on the door, and the novices flinched, hands dropping to the hilt of their swords. Desirderia was the only one who didn’t, and she cracked the door open. Ezio paused from taking a drink, glancing to the door. Desirderia spoke in low tones, but didn’t seem too thrilled with whomever it was.

“Who is it?”

Aligiero looked over to Ezio. “It’s meserre Leonardo, sir.”

“Then let him in,” Ezio answered, sounding, almost, as if that should have been a given.

The novices hesitated; which they hardly ever did. After sharing contemplative looks with each other, Luciano just nodded, and they opened the door.

Sure enough, Leonardo stood there with an omnipresent smile. He offered them a curt nod, and stepped in, with something in his arm. The novices watched cautiously, never letting their glances deviate from him.

Leonardo took a seat in the chair that Cirino had been using, setting whatever he had wrapped up on his lap, letting out a soft chuckle.

“It is ... unnerving having them stare,” He mumbled, trying to make sure only Ezio heard him.

Ezio looked up to his recruits. “You all have been here since before I woke up – why not go take a break?”

“But, maestro...” Giovanni began, his voice trailing off.

There was a stifled groan. “Fine, then could you please stand outside? I highly doubt Leonardo is going to take advantage of my weakened state.”
None of them seemed too keen on moving, but, after a few moments, they did. The novices stepped out one at a time, with Luciano stepping out as well and closing the door.

Leonardo sighed, offering Ezio a kind smile. “They really do care for you, you know.”

“Oh, trust me, that has become pointedly evident,” Ezio said, a very soft, subtly laugh coating his words. Cautiously, he braced his arms on either side of him and eased himself to sit up more. He winced in pain, and was suddenly aware of Leonardo’s hands hovering near him. “I’m fine, trust me.”

“Are you sure? I was told by Niccolo is was quite bad...”

“Is that who they were yelling at last night?”

“Yes. He’s none to pleased, either. The recruits ushered him out, and sent your sister and mother out as well. They all came to my workshop, where he told us you had been injured.”

The small smile Ezio had vanished instantly. Leonardo immediately picked up on it, and tried to correct himself.

“B-but! Enough of that!” He said cheerfully, holding up his hands and dropping them to unwrap his gift. “I made you some of your favourites – to help you feel better!”

With his best interested face put on, Ezio listened to Leonardo as he described his troubles with making the food, which somehow morphed into how he really needed to finish a couple paintings.

And, like the food and his bed, he couldn't help but be a little more thankful for being able to just sit back, and let Leonardo do all the talking.

I'm so glad you haven't forgotten about this authoranon!

I couldn't help but chuckle to find out that it was Machiavelli the recruits were shouting at. And the recruits, oh god I love them even more ♥

Can't wait to read more!

Yessss more!! Can't believe how lucky I am :D :D :D :D Thank you Anon, I am all mushy right now from Ezio's overprotective loyal little recruits. *is goo*

This is continuing?! YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!
Thank you writer-anon! I'm so happy, I could kiss you right now TuT

THIS IS AMAZING. So freaking adorable. I love Leo so much. <3

So I was browsing around and foudn this excellent piece of artwork that fit too well to not share: http://doubleleaf.deviantart.com/gallery/?offset=24#/d49r5k7

I'm also thinking I'll update this once every 2 weeks -- maybe one every week if I write fast enough.

==========

"Hellooo!" Desmond called, rapping on the door for the third time in as many minutes. No reply this time, either. He glanced down at his watch and frowned. He didn't really have time to stand here and hope that whoever had ordered this pizza was actually here, but he wasn't about to leave, either. Not for the first time that week he grumbled about his lack of a cellphone, then lifted his hand to try again, pounding on the door this time. "Helloooo--" Then the door abruptly sung open, and Desmond just barely caught himself before he brought his fist down on a blue-eyed, blond-haired man wearing a red beret and a puzzled expression.

Said man did not seem particularly alarmed that a stranger carrying a pizza box had nearly hit him. "Ah-- yes?"

Desmond blinked, but lowered his hand. At least the guy wasn't mad. He presented the box. "Pizza."

But the man shook his head, sand-colored hair swaying. "I did not order anything."

Great. "Mrs... Uh." Desmond dug a hand into his pocket, silently cursing whoever it was that had written down the apartment number. "Gallo doesn't live here?"

"No, but--" The man brightened. "I can show you where she lives." He stepped out into the hallway, not even waiting for Desmond to confirm that he needed help. "This happens quite often," he babbled, turning to lock his apartment door behind him. "I should have realized right away--" He stopped, suddenly, blinking as he turned from his door. Then he smiled. "Ah, Ezio!"

Desmond froze. This couldn't... no. Not again. Desmond slowly started to turn around. Maybe it was a different Ezio...?

But no, it was the exact same one that had paid for a pizza he hadn't ordered only hours ago. And Machiavelli was still with him. Damnit!

"Don't you guys sleep?" Desmond quipped dryly. Sure, it was only 11ish, but Desmond felt that he question was a valid one. He knew that Ezio hadn't followed him on purpose, but he was getting annoyed at his apparent inability to live his life in peace. Ezio and Machiavelli exchanged a glance, Ezio looking a little uncertain and Machiavelli looking unimpressed. The two men drew to a stop and remained silent. Desmond had time to notice they were carrying several boxes between the two of them before the silence was suddenly broken.

"You two know each other?" The blond man stepped forward and around Desmond as he spoke, looking inquisitive and uncertain. Mostly inquisitive, though.

"Yes," Ezio replied, right as Desmond said, "Not in public." The two exchanged a glance and silence fell again. Machiavelli wasn't smiling, which wasn't a surprise, but neither was Ezio, something Desmond had learned to be wary of. The blond man whose evening he had interrupted remained quiet and frowning, looking back and forth between Desmond and Ezio.

Suddenly Desmond didn't want to be here anymore. He didn't like how serious Ezio looked. He didn't like that Machiavelli hadn't already made some sort of snide remark. He didn't like that if he didn't leave this situation soon he was going to be late on his delivery.

"Hey." Desmond looked at the blond man, who blinked at him. "Just let me know what her apartment number is and I'll get out of here, alright?" Apparently it was the right move, because Desmond noticed (with great relief) both Machiavelli and Ezio relaxing. He didn't think he would have caught it if he didn't know them so well. The blond seemed pleased, too, and he gave Desmond the apartment number in a pleasant tone. Desmond nodded his thanks, but didn't say anything further as he slipped past Ezio and Machiavelli. He didn't want to be anywhere near them any longer if he could help it.

The trip through the hallway, up the stairs, and down a second hallway, and around a corner to the proper apartment (318, not 218) was a blessedly uneventful one. Mrs. Gallo, he was relieved to find out, was a pleasant woman, though she seemed lonely. He got wrapped into talking to her for nearly ten minutes, his wristwatch confirmed, and only got away from her when she suddenly remembered that she'd paid for a pizza and that she should probably get to eating it. By the time he stepped out the buildings' front door, he was ready to call it a night.

Least I got a decent tip, he mused to himself. Even though I'm used to better. Thinking about his old job brought a frown to his face -- one of puzzlement, not of anger. He knew, vaguely, the story behind what had happened the night he got fired. The Syrian La'Ahad faction and the Italian Auditore family were on good terms, and Desmond knew (as most people did not) that Giovanni and Altaïr were related -- a shared great grandfather. Yet the two families were not technically allies. The disagreements between them were peaceful, comparatively, the shifting boundaries of their territory usually coming as the result of civil disagreements.

Which was not to say that every member of each faction was peaceful. That was what had lead to the fight. One of Altaïr's youngest and newest deciding that Giovanni's second son, relaxed and slightly inebriated, was too good an opportunity to pass up. Desmond hadn't really been surprised, even if he was annoyed with himself for not catching it before the fight.

Less annoyed than he was for letting it slip earlier that night that Ezio was his cousin, though. He had thought, being 23 and well out of the influence of his parents, that he was a bit beyond getting bit in the ass for his relation to certain people. He'd gotten a rather unfortunate lesson about that, as well as about the sort of trouble his 'stupid, shithead cousin', as his ex-boss had put it, could get in to. So he'd been fired, apparently for even so much as telling Ezio where he worked. Who cared that the fight hadn't been Ezio's fault, right?

As Desmond stepped out onto the parking lot pavement his thoughts drifted from Ezio and on towards the one that had really been responsible for the fight. He really shouldn't have been so aggressive towards Ezio. It really wasn't his fault he kept running into Desmond, and he didn't deserve to be snapped at.

Desmond resolved to apologize to Ezio next time he saw him, and was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he almost didn't notice a blond woman in a white halter top darting across the parking lot. Almost didn't notice a man tearing after her. And, when he finally looking up in time to see the two take cover across from each other and draw weapons, Desmond almost didn't throw himself to the ground in time to avoid getting riddled with bullets from the pursuer's gun.

He no longer had any doubts. The universe definitely held a grudge against him.

Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed [Fills]

Fill; AC1 Action VIrgin! Altair / Experienced! Maria.

Delivery - Part 1 (1/3)

Delivery - Part 1 (2/3)

Delivery - Part 1 (3/3)

Re: Delivery - Part 1 (3/3)

Re: Delivery - Part 1 (3/3)

Re: Delivery - Part 1 (3/3)

Re: Delivery - Part 1 (3/3)

OP

Re: Two Eagles (128/?)

Re: OP

Re: 3; The soothe [5/?]

Re: I Touch Myself (1/?)

Re: Altered Flight Pattern (83/?)

OP Re: Recruits to the Rescue [1b/?]

Re: Recruits to the Rescue [1b/?]

Re: Recruits to the Rescue [2a/?]

Re: Recruits to the Rescue [2b/?]

Re: Recruits to the Rescue [2b/?]

OP Re: Recruits to the Rescue [2b/?]

Re: Recruits to the Rescue [2b/?]

no subject

Re: To the Rescue

Delivery - Part 2 (1/?)

Re: Delivery - Part 2 (1/?)