asscreedkinkmeme | Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt. 4

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assassin's creed

Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt. 4

Assassin's Creed Kink Meme pt.4

Welcome to Constantinople

‡ Comment anonymously with a character/pairing and a kink/prompt.

‡ Comment is filled by another anonymous with fanfiction/art/or any other appropriate medium.

‡ One request per post, but fill the request as much as you want.

‡ The fill/request doesn't necessarily need to be smut.

‡ Don't flame, if you have nothing good to say, don't say anything.

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‡ Last, but not least: HAVE FUN!

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Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 5
Fills Only
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"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Clay chants, and Desmond scrabbles for the buttons on his own jeans, loosens them enough to shove his hand into his pants and drag out his cock and starts jerking himself off, hard, fast. It probably hurts, would if there'd been actually flesh involved, but it's just the memory of flesh and he can do anything he wants, any fucking thing at all. He twitches, fights to drag his head out of Clay's grip, away from the thrust of his hips, and Clay looks down with a snarl on his face, his eyes positively alight but Desmond keeps his other fist around him and his face close to the head of Clay's cock and gasps, "Come on me. Clay! Fuck! Come on. I wanna feel-"

He gasps on the last word, Clay wrenching his head back as his breath chokes out of him and he thrusts hard, uncontrollably into Desmond's fist and then he's coming and it's everything that Desmond wants. He closes his eyes and opens his mouth and jerks himself harder and he can feel it hot, striping his face in long, thick splashes and Clay is making a sound like he's dying and Desmond is so close, so-

"Jesus fuck!" Clay grunts and suddenly Desmond is being shoved down, like Clay's just collapsed on top of him except his hands are every fucking where and he's kissing Desmond, licking his own come up from Desmond's face and saying, "Desmond. Desmond," over and over again like he doesn't remember any other word. His hand convulses around Desmond's on Desmond's cock and his tongue is in Desmond's mouth, a hard thrust of want as he jerks him blindly, too hard, too fast, and, yeah, Desmond wants that too, wants Clay to fuck him hard, wants to fuck Clay, but later, later. This right now, oh Christ, this, and then he's right there, like a circuit overload, like a power surge, synapses firing all at once in his brain, muscles convulsing, over and over, until the Black Room goes white.

Holy fucking wow. So much for not being able to feel.

"Desmond."

Mmm, and okay, that feels good too, Clay kissing him like that, everywhere, again and again.

"Yep," he says eventually, and his tongue feels a thick and clumsy in his mouth, not that he really currently has either a tongue or a mouth, but that way just lies madness. "Still here."

"Desmond, that was... That was..."

"Yeah," Desmond agrees, because the stunned, subdued, hell, sane, tone to Clay's voice is all the comment needed. "It really was." He cracks an eye open, and Clay's looking at him like he's some kind of revelation, which, hey, Desmond doesn't hate. So he says, just to see the look on Clay's face, "Want to do it again?"

Clay looks then like all his Christmases have come at once.

"Yes?" he says, a little like he's not sure if he should or not.

Desmond just grins. "So, don't suppose there's a bed on this island somewhere?"

Clay blinks at him, and then grins back.

"No, but there's a block that's just about the right height."

That's good enough for Desmond.

"Then what are we waiting for?"

"For the feeling to come back to my legs?" Clay says, and suddenly remembering how all this began in the first place, Desmond starts to laugh. He starts to laugh and he finds he can't stop, doesn't want to stop. He's rolling into Clay as he just keeps going and Clay's laughing too and the two of them are rolling against each other, just about killing themselves laughing, and Desmond, just for that moment, thinks it's okay, it's all right, because there's a lot wrong in his life, but he can still feel this, they can still feel this. And that's probably as right as anything gets.

OP!anon here, well my friend, you have a really, really good excuse, go and enjoy the game and continue this when you feel like writing. Revelations is more important than this.

I pull the hood of my robe tighter around me, concealing my face as I pass through the throngs of people. I move as a wraith through the crowd, unseen and unobserved by the people around me. My gate is marked with a subtle, yet defining, purpose. A singular objective. Yet none observe, their attention far too drawn to the spectacle unfolding in the public square to notice a figure like me.

My mind is haunted by old ghosts - the memories. Times of celebration, happiness and joy - morphed into feelings of deep loneliness and utter despair. Like night and day, two sides of a florin - a family strong... and a family broken. I was not here, I had not witnessed it, but that doesn't stop me from seeing their faces, hearing their voices - being here, seeing this place, burns like salt in an open wound.

The Piazza della Signoria.

More specifically the execution platform before it, where three more people were being prepared for the gallows. Today is execution day in Firenze, where everyone who's anyone comes to the public square to witness the ghoulish event. Men, women, children... they come from all over, all hoping for a glimpse of death, cheering the spectacle, anticipating the begging cries for mercy and the sound of broken necks.

I conceal a snarl of disgust as I move closer, carefully weaving between the cheering citizens. I come upon a slight clearing in the crowd and see the platform ahead. My eyes linger for a moment on the three victims - currently being read their last rites as the soldiers tighten the nooses around their necks.

Murder? Adultery? I forget the crimes they are accused of. I don't even see their faces, instead I see them - the ghosts of a lifetime past; hands bound, nooses around neck, resigned to their fate in the gallows. I clench my eyes shut for a moment, then I open them again - the ghosts are gone, and there he is.

Acilio Moretti. A ranking member of the Florentine Borgia guards, and the handpicked executioner of Firenze. He was the one the Templars used to do their dirty work here, to eliminate dissidents and political enemies under the false pretense of justice. A mere lackey in the Templar chain, executing on order from his Templar masters; yet justice - and the ghosts of the past - demanded his blood.

Uberto Alberti had given the order... Moretti had pulled the lever. It was an oversight I intended to correct.

"People of Firenze!" The brute yells out to the crowd, "Today these three men stand accused of crimes against the public welfare. They have stolen property of the city, committed murder on the innocent, whored their bodies in devilish ways, and conspired against the good people of our city!"

The crowd breaks out in angered jeers at the three men. They flinch at his words as if stricken, repulsed by the very thought of committing such deeds. Their faces show anger at the allegations, tinged with the obvious fear at their plight. They are no more than twenty years of age. I shake my head and step closer to the stage, the ghosts of the past threatening to return.

I had traveled much distance, spent much time seeking him. He had not proven too difficult to find, given his status as a public figure and the attention his executions brought from the public. I could have reached him quietly in his living quarters, but this wasn't about stealth - it was about sending a message.

"In light of the evidence we have gathered, and none who will speak in your defense, I am bound to pronounce you guilty as charged!"

I tense my wrist in preparation, noting the positions of the guards around the stage, and their proximity to him.

"As penalty for these crimes - I sentence you to DEATH!"

I step within feet of the platform as cheers ring out at his proclamation, my movements are concealed from the spell bound audience, distracted as they are by their blood lust.

The ghosts of the past flash again as he approaches the lever.

Not this time.

I burst out of the crowd at a full run, ignoring their startled cries and the outraged shouts of the guards. I vault over their swords and leap onto the stage. Moretti attempts to flee at the sight of Assassin white, but he's far too late. With a final rush, I tackle him to the ground and pierce his chest with my hidden blade.

The world around us falls away as his blood spills on my hands. The people and the guards around us are relegated to background noise, leaving the two of us to speak as I hold him in my arms.

"I have searched for you, long anticipating this moment. At last it has come, and you bleed on the very stage of your victims. How does it feel to endure their pain as your own?"

His eyes open wide, shocked by my gender. The fact that someone of his standing can be ended by a woman.

"Such beauty, such youth, such... innocence - brought to this."

"Not so innocent... as you can see."

"Why then? Why have you done this?"

"Is it not obvious? Do you not realize who I am?" I pull my hood back a bit.

"The Auditore girl! The one we spared... our mercy, repaid with such... violence."

"You, the executioner of Firenze, speak to me of violence? You who accepted bribes, dealt death as spectator sport, threw in with those Templar wolves, and unjustly ended the lives of the innocent?"

"No, I dealt death to the guilty - guilty of disrupting the greater peace to spread dangerous ideas. Assassins... you and your ilk. The world will never know peace until you are eliminated. The Templars simply offered a path."

"And my family?"

"Your father, your brothers, that... boy - all notable deaths to the advancement of Order. You should celebrate their loss, not mourn it."

"You make a mockery of everything that is good and just. You destroyed lives, ruined homes, dabbled in greed, and stained this place with your presence! Now I will stain the ground with it!"

With that I trigger the spring on my hidden blade, sending it into his throat before he can respond.

Author Anon says now she wants to finish this.

I think it might be physically impossible to read this without grinning. I love adorable domestic fic with these four, and I get super excited about Christmas too. :'D Singing Des is charming and heartwarming.

Bhhhhh. I might do this. Maybe

DEAR WRITERANON,

THIS IS OP

THIS OP IS PLEASED

THIS IS PLEASED

EXPECT MORE THAN ENOUGH COOKIES UNDER YOUR TREE ON CHRISTMAS EVE

LOVE, OP

/caps<3 ; 3;

This was so beautiful and perfect with the characterisations... and also very hot. I never even usually like porn! Loved it.

Anything post-coma would make me very happy, so yes please!

YES. GOOD. Everything I could want in a Desmond/16 kinkfic. The characterizations are so lovely and the fact that they are enjoying themselves in such a desolate situation makes my heart melt. and panties wet.

In short, I love this.

This anon here got an email half an hour ago or so and has amused herself since then with Ubisoft's 25th anniversary pie throwing thingy (and has failed miserably to throw anything further than 20km or so... =))
So: I'd like the Masyaf assassins having a huge pie throwing contest/event. (Who wouldn't like to see Altair with a face full of pie and Malik rubbing his hands with glee. Or Al Mualim getting a face full.... )

[captcha: strulfte cultivated - alright... cultivated pie throwing please!]

ASSASSIN CATS: The Start
For the purpose of writing this, it is AU.

“What! No, don’t touch that!”
Shaun dived past Desmond and slapped the glowing Piece of Eden away from his outstretched hand. It had been too easy to kill the Templars, like they had wanted them to steal the Piece of Eden.
The rectangle clattered to the floor, deactivating. Shaun hit the floor, writhing, his jaw locking up, his knees drawn up to his chest.

“Shaun!” Lucy came around the corner, having taken cover from the fire fight. She darted out, grabbing the glasses-wearing historian, prying his mouth open to force her tattered shirt into his orifice.

“It’s going to be okay, just keep breathing. Rebecca!”
The technician appeared, before swearing and running over to the enemy hummer.

Desmond just stood there. Well, he was panting, having killed the team sent after them, but he stared around cluelessly at the seizing Shaun and Rebecca, who seemed to be pulling out a laptop.

His eyes landed on an opened case, with locks and a chain on the handle. There was a rectangular shaped dent in the middle. He scanned the area with his eagle vision one last time, and then headed over to it.

Scooping up the case, he crossed back over to pick up the Piece of Eden and set it in. Since he didn’t drop to the floor writhing, and it wasn’t glowing, he decided that it was off. Using his hidden blade, he broke the locks off the metal frame and looped the chain around it instead to keep it closed.

“I’ve downloaded the information onto a CD! Let’s go!” Rebecca called. “Yes, I made sure it was clean first!” she added.
Desmond walked over to Lucy, offering to trade the Piece of Eden for carrying Shaun. Lucy shook her head.

“It’s too late…he’s….”
Shaun’s clothes were deflated on the floor.
Desmond dropped to his knees, patting the clothes. This could not be happening. The snarky limey was not dead, he was not allowed to be dead, he did not make Lucy cry…

“Mew! Mew! Mew!”
Lucy sneezed.
.......
Like I said, a few days. Since the beginning wouldn't be changed too much, I kept it as is. Now, to write out the ending, edit, and post might take a few days...

Well then, yay! This is a little exploration of how things (attitudes? relationships) might change immediately post-coma. It's not porny - when I fill at a kink meme I always aim to do porn but this time it just didn't happen. Hope you find it interesting anyway. It's also maybe a little slashy if you choose to look at it that way.

++++

Desmond's not the same; even a fool can see that, and Shaun's no fool. He's changed, like time in the Animus – Christ, Shaun doesn't even want to think about how long – has done something to him that no amount of Bleed Effect could. Shaun expected anger when Desmond awoke, he expected grief, confusion even, but when Desmond had opened his eyes and looked at his father and said I know what I have to do, it had set the tone for everything after it.

Someone who didn't know any better might think this new, quiet, self possessed Desmond is an improvement. Some asshole who was always complaining that Desmond did nothing but sit around while real assassins were out there getting killed might have taken it back, seeing Desmond now. But Shaun's not that asshole, not anymore. No, what Shaun is, is worried. Desmond's hardly spoken a word – let alone to Shaun – since he came out of the coma, but when Shaun tries, it's not like he gets stonewalled. That would be normal, he thinks. That would be running away, which Desmond has obviously been doing for a long time now. But instead what he gets is a faint smile and an assurance that he's ‘fine', that everything is fine. And then Desmond puts his hand on his shoulder or his arm, gives it a reassuring squeeze, and wanders away, and Shaun can only stand there and let him.

It's not good enough. Desmond has to be feeling something. No one who's gone through what he's gone through wouldn't be feeling something, and Shaun will be damned if he's going to sit by and let the guy self destruct again. Desmond had been suffering Bleed Effect – badly – before they'd gone for the artefact, and no one had listened to him. Lucy had paid the price for that, and Shaun isn't going to let that happen again, not to Desmond and not to anyone else.

But with Desmond not talking, Shaun doesn't have a lot of avenues. Bill won't do anything – this is what he's wanted from the start. He's going to have to go straight to the source, so to speak, except...

"There's nothing there, Shaun. I'm telling you." Rebecca sounds like she looks, worn down to her raw components. "It's all gone."

Shaun frowns and gestures at the idle machine. Bec's been working on it since Desmond woke up and he's not sure she's slept a whole lot in that time.

"It's operating isn't it? So there must be an environment."

"It's not that simple!" she snaps, but Shaun is not backing down from this one.

"Just give me what you have, I don't care. I'm not having a repeat of before."

Rebecca freezes at that and, if possible, goes even paler. "You think it will?" Her eyes search his face, like he has all the answers. He wishes he did.

"I think it's a possibility," he tells her grimly, looking around the empty store room they're discussing this in, away from Bill, certainly away from Desmond.

"All right, Shaun," Rebecca sighs, her posture slumping a little. "All right. I'll send what I have to you when I get back to the machine." She doesn't call it ‘baby' anymore. She hasn't called it baby since Lucy died.

"Thanks," Shaun says, and then as Rebecca makes to leave, his conscience twinges and he reaches out and clasps her shoulder, stopping her on her way past him. "It'll be okay, Becca."

It's the best he can do under the circumstances, and she gives him a smile that says she doesn't believe him but she's grateful he's trying.

"Yeah, Shaun," she agrees. "Of course it will."

Shaun watches her leave, and wonders how it is if the Assassins have everything they want now, does it feel like they have nothing at all.

+++++

Shaun works late into the night, and then the next night, then the night after that. Rebecca was more or less right about the Animus data. It's not all gone, but it's not exactly making sense either. Shaun stares at it until his eyes cross, until he's dreaming in binary and arrays and clusters during the few hours he does sleep, until he's throwing down cup after cup of coffee and wondering if this is the state of the Animus, how in all that's holy is Desmond still walking around stringing coherent sentences together.

"Fuck," he says to himself, and it's two am and he's pretty much on the verge of giving up. "This is bloody hopeless."

"What is?"

Shaun jumps about a mile out of his seat before his brain can register that it's Desmond behind him.

"You're working pretty hard there, Shaun," Desmond says, coming over to stand by his chair. "What are you doing?" But Shaun's pretty sure he's already seen what Shaun's doing.

"What does it look like, you twat?" Shaun demands, without his usual vitriol. Desmond hasn't been biting at what Shaun's casting these days anyway.

"It looks like you're looking at the Animus," Desmond says. "Looking for something we don't already have?"

It sounds like Desmond is saying Shaun is wasting his time, like he believes they have everything they need and that's it, Shaun's right there, finally, at the end of his rope. All this time, losing Lucy, thinking Desmond was never going to wake up, or if he did, be little better than a vegetable, watching Bill worry not about his son but about whether his son finally had the answers the Assassins have been after for so many generations. Sure, of course Shaun understands it all on an intellectual level, about sacrifices and the greater good and all that shite, but there's a personal factor here and he's not going to be the one who forgets that, not after everything they've been through.

He surges out of his chair, and Desmond takes a step back, not surprised so much as just making room. But Shaun never was one about distance when it came to venting, so he grabs Desmond's shirt and he half expects some effortless countermove that breaks his grip first and his wrist second. Desmond just stands there instead, staring at him calmly, waiting. It just makes him angrier. The old Desmond would have been giving Shaun a sarcastic serving by now. The old Desmond would push back, challenging Shaun to step up, and when he did, would grin like fighting with Shaun was more fun than he could have in three lifetimes, let alone one. Shaun would be a hypocrite if he said he didn't on some level miss that, but that's not really what this is all about and he's going to make Desmond understand or die trying.

"I'm looking for you, Desmond! You! You're not the same anymore! You left something in there and we want it back. I want it back. We've all paid enough and I'm over it. I don't give a shit what we gained. I don't give a shit if this is to save the world because we've lost enough and even if you don't see it anymore, I still do. So just sod off and let me do what I need to do, all right?"

He shoves Desmond away, turns back to his terminal and drops himself angrily back into his chair. But Desmond doesn't leave. Instead, he just steps back into Shaun's peripheral, turning and propping himself on the table edge next to him while Shaun does his best to ignore him.

"It's not just Lucy," Desmond says after a while, softly, almost like he's talking to himself. Shaun freezes anyway, can't even draw breath because Desmond's not even said her name since he woke up. "Clay's gone too."

Shaun does breathe then. "Clay?" He can't help but look at Desmond then, who's not looking back, but is instead staring at his feet with more expression on his face than Shaun's seen in a week.

"Otherwise known as Subject Sixteen," Desmond sighs. "He was in there. With me. He saved me."

"He..." Shaun starts. It's not possible, surely.

"The environment was crumbling," Desmond says with a shrug. "And he'd been saying for so long that he wanted to get out, that he needed to get out, and I really thought he was going to do it for a second there."

Shaun stares at him, and the idea that is forming in his head is horrifying, that Subject 16 had been trying to come out, with Desmond, in Desmond. Shaun can't even begin to guess at what that would have done to Desmond's already stressed psyche. Or whether he would have been Desmond at all.

"But in the end," Desmond says, his voice roughening, and Shaun sees something he finally recognises in Desmond's expression – regret, grief, lonliness. "He pushed me through alone. He sacrificed the last of what he was," he nods towards the code scrolling down Shaun's screen, then straight at Shaun, "just to save me. You're right, Shaun. There's been too many sacrifices, too much lost. I can't let any of them be in vain. I can't. Lucy would have- She would have wanted me to keep going. The Desmond you're looking for, he wasn't the guy that could do that. But I am."

Suddenly he's pushing himself off the desk, walking away. Shaun fumbles up out of his chair, turns, maybe to give chase, but all he can do is stand there and stare after him, his mouth open and no words coming out, because the way Desmond looks as he disappears is like there is the weight of a world on his shoulders, and Shaun suddenly realises he's seen it before.

In Syria, and then again in Italy.

In the Animus.

But something's different, something's changed.

Desmond looks like the weight of the world is on his shoulders and finally, finally, he is strong enough to bear it.

MASSIVE END OF GAME SPOILERS. I'm sure it goes without saying; this is post-coma after all.

This is amazing. Thanks, anon, for sharing this incredibly well-crafted story, it had me tear up all the way till the end and that part about Yusuf's headband reducing itself to threads was just the perfect metaphor for everything to come and ohhhh God, I'm about to cry again, so lemme just say thank you again. <3333

I know this game was like, years ago, but I have a request about something that happened at the very beginning of AssCreed II.

When Ezio brings Leonardo his father's broken hidden blade, Leonardo says "Ah, che pasticcio... Tutto il santo giorno che cerco..." which translates in to "Oh, what a mess... I've spent the whole day looking for..."

So, writer anons, this is your fill! What was Leonardo looking for?

I will gift to you the internets if you manage to get some smut into this fill.

I am a sucker for family moments. Especially between the father and son relationships of Altair and his sons. You know, an example would be Altair playing baseball with his two kids, if it's modern AU. Or Altair telling bedtime stories as another example.

There's not enough of these types of fanfictions. I have only read two, one is just an one shot while the other is a collection of one shots.

I do not mind if whoever takes this and wants to write it make it a one shot. But all I ask for is no incest/smut. No romance either.

Bonus:
-Altair is baking cookies with his children. Yes, cookie baking. I said it. Cookies. Modern AU, of course.

Whoever fills this, I thank you. You'd have made this anon's dream come true.

Really, I'm happy as long as there's a lot of moaning.
No particular preference for Altair being bottom or top.

~~I've spent too much time on this site.~~

So, Maria and Altair are married. Maria works at a big company and gets paid big bucks every day. Altair is a stay-at-home dad who has to do everything from cooking to cleaning to taking care of the kids. Maria kinda forgets about Altair and the kids, in favor of having a ... "partnership" with Robert. Instead of Altair find out, the kids find out and are pissed.

The kids, in an effort to save Altair the heartbreak, tell him. However, Altair at first thinks they are telling false stories and waves them off. But, he begins to notice things he normally didn't. (mainly because he was too busy getting everything done.)

Either he notices....
Bite marks
Smeared makeup
Crinkled clothes
Lateness
Spacing out
Etc.

Is up to writer!Anon.

However! Altair can end up with someone, but he MUST separate from Maria.

If you can, you can have an oblivious!Altair who has people with obvious crushes on him... but he just kinda... doesn't see it.

I will love anon if they can give me a pairing that's not used as much (Desmond/Altair? Rauf/Altair?)

Anyways... that's the end of the prompt... Bye?

Oh ohohohoho no! Youre right! ~~blushblushblush~~ I'll have part four up soon I guess?

Found this on my comp, buried in my fic/prompt files. XD I'm fairly certain I developed this to help a writeanon for a fic on Part 3, but I can't find the prompt to poke that fic/writeanon. :( But I seem to remember that the writeanon couldn't use many of my ideas, so I'm reposting this here.

Altair, Ezio, and Desmond are descended from an ancient civilization thought to be lost to the sea long ago. The city was cursed and sunk into the ocean, and the population was changed to something inhuman – the upper half looked normal, while the lower was like that of the ocean’s creatures. (Fish, shark, octopus, whatever - take your pick.) But mermaids can still walk on land for brief periods of time, and with a major sacrifice (playing on the Little Mermaid idea - loss of voice, sight, limb, etc), can shift back and forth between forms for nearly the entirety of that mermaid’s life. Also, light splashes with water shouldn’t force a change, but immersion or a full-body drenching would.

The legends of mermaids grew as the population began to spread throughout the sea, and differing races of mermaids began to emerge from the original cursed population as they could still couple with humans. So as many races there are in the world, so too with mermaids. (And they also have territories and wars. :3) These descendants, depending on whether they were born on land or in the sea, could look fully human or gain a similar body like that of the mermaid who birthed them. (The idea that the mermaids are more like hermaphrodites hit me. Gives a reason as to why you don't hear much about mermen, since people usually attribute a female connotation to the creatures. So the baby would have a 50/50 chance at having either form, unless the mother was fully human. And would mean that the boys can still look like men, but have both female/male bits down there. XD This is not necessary, though. Use it if you want to.)

Okay, enough set up:
Altair, Ezio, and Des went to the surface only sparingly, and never really left the water when they did. They were always careful to not allow humans to see them, but one day the boys got too overconfident and were captured at a young age (mid teen, I’m thinking.) Eventually they are able to escape, but not before being pulled far inland. (I’m thinking slavers have been capturing mermaids as exotic pets? IDEK)

I'd like that at least one of them is still trapped. Like someone keeping one/two of them as a pet in a pond/deep fountain/some kind of reservoir, while the other manages to escape, gets found by someone and taught how to live on land. (Incorporating AC canon not necessary, but could make it interesting.)

Pairings are free for all, but I would prefer whoever you pair them with to be fully human. And since this is so AU, use whatever ages you want for the boys.

Know that I haven't played ACR yet, so please keep this as spoiler free as possible?

TL; DR - Altair/Des/Ezio are mermaids. They get captured, sold as pets, and eventually escape/saved. Meet human lover and live happily ever after?

Does the upper half have to be normal?

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Page 19 of 187

Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt. 4

Re: Fill - The Gestalt Touch 3/3

Re: Purgatorio 3/???

The Shadow of Tuscany (Chp 1/???)

Re: The Shadow of Tuscany (Chp 1/???)

Re: Purgatorio 3/???

Re: . . . And I hate you [cont]

Re: Leonardo+Lorenzo/Ezio - bonding/networking

OP

Re: Fill - The Gestalt Touch 3/3

no subject

Re: Fill - The Gestalt Touch 3/3

Pie throwing fun

Re: FILL part 1/?

Fill - Chrysalis 1/5

Re: Fill - Chrysalis 2/3 (sorry! I miscounted the parts somehow)

Re: Fill - Chrysalis 3/3

PS from author - SPOILERS

Re: a conversation (3/3)

Ah, che pasticcio...

Family time with Altair and his children (Darim/Sef)

Re: Re

Cheated Out

Re: Slow-P here!

Lost Civilization

Re: Lost Civilization