asscreedkinkmeme ([personal profile] asscreedkinkmeme) wrote2011-11-16 12:25 pm
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Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt. 4

Assassin's Creed Kink Meme pt.4


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

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

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Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 5
Fills Only
Discussion

Ezio/"Cristina"

(Anonymous) 2012-05-01 10:17 am (UTC)(link)
I'd like to see a fic between Ezio and the girl who triggers the Cristina memories in ACB. Not really interested in anything smutty since there would be a pretty big age difference between the two but just some distant angsting on Ezio's part, attempts at having a conversation, and friendship? Maybe he can save her from the guards, too/whatever author!anon wants.

Feelings for my OTP :(

Fill: Second Chances

(Anonymous) 2012-05-01 03:11 pm (UTC)(link)
I love Ezio/Cristina so when I saw this prompt I had to fill it. Hope you like it OP!

-------------

"Why are you always just standing there? If you have something to say to me, say it."

The question takes him by surprise and rather than giving an intelligent answer he only stands there dumbly, speechless. The girl had never said anything to him before and he was certain he'd hidden himself well enough that she couldn't see him even if she were looking; apparently he had been wrong. Very wrong. More than just the fact that she noticed her though, the look on her face and the question itself really caught him off guard. They reminded him so much of Crisina. This was not a new thought when it came to this girl. The entire reason he came back here, the reason he made a point to watch her from afar and do what he can to make sure she stayed safe was the way she reminded him of Cristina. The sight of her never failed to bring out his memories of her, whether good or bad and he was certain that, if nothing else, this was a sure sign of masochism on his part.

"Well? Aren't you going to say something ?"

For a moment more he just stands there without saying anything, the situation felt so familiar that he was almost tempted to look over and see if Federico leaning against a nearby wall, a small smirk on his face as he watched his younger brother attempt to charm a beautiful girl. The weight of his armor and the feeling of the hidden blade at his wrist made him very aware of the fact that that would not happen. Federico was long dead and as much as he would like her to be, this girl was not actually Crisina - only someone who looked like her.

"Forgive me, you just remind me of someone I knew when I was much younger. Seeing you brings back many memories of her."

"You must miss her a great deal if you are willing to come here and watch me so often. Tell me, why do you not just find her again rather than following me?"

"She died a few years ago. Her death was sudden and I don't think I have come to terms with it quite yet."

She only nods, her expression changing from one of annoyance to something softer, something not quite understanding, but perhaps sympathy. It must be strange to have a complete stranger suddenly tell you that they've been following you because you remind them of a dead friend of theirs.

"I am sorry about your friend. We're you very close with her?"

"We might have gotten married if life hadn't forced us down separate paths. Her name was Cristina Vespucci; she was Florence's greatest beauty. I am lucky she ever gave me the time of day."

"I see. It is a shame you had to loose someone you thought so highly of."

"We had not seen each other in many years and yet it still felt as though we had been as close as we once were when she died."

They fell into a comfortable silence - strange considering the fact that they hardly knew each other and he had just been so open with her. I'm retrospect, he shouldn't have told her any of that. It would have been better if he had made up some other excuse, but he couldn't bring himself to lie. He did not love this girl by any means, but he still loved Cristina and lying to someone who reminded him so strongly of the woman he loved felt wrong. Thinking of that made him feel guilty for all of the things that he never told Cristina. He wished he had told her why he couldn't take her with him when he returned to Florence; he wished he had told her that he wanted to to take her, but the idea of her getting hurt because of him was too much; he wished he had told her he loved her. But the time for all of that has passed and now all he had was her memory and the necklace he had given her when he originally left Florence.

The necklace itself felt entirely too heavy around his neck. He wished, too, that he had left it with her so that it might be buried with her body, but he knew that would only cause problems. Cristina had a husband when she died and the pendant attached was clearly the Auditore crest. It would be a disgrace on her and her family if anyone were to see her wearing the crest of the shamed Auditore and not her husband's family. He could never bring that upon her. He already felt guilty enough for the way he hurt her while she was alive, especially when her feelings for him had clearly lasted beyond all of that pain and waiting her forced on her.

"You seem like you are very deep in your thoughts. Are you thinking of Cristina?"

Ezio smiles and gives a small nod.

"What's your name? I would like to speak with you again one day."

"I am sure you would seek me out even without my name."

"So you will deny me the pleasure of your name?"

"I have a husband."

Another similarity to Cristina.

"You and your husband do not need to worry, I am not looking for anything more than friendship. It would not be right of me to look for something else simply because you remind me of a past love."

"That is comforting, but I still do not feel comfortable giving the man who felt the need to follow me for months without a word my name."

"Shall I botch an attempt at being funny and charming to try and win your name? Or shall I get rid of a pest who does not know when to leave you alone for a second chance at friendship?"

"Right now the only one who fits the second description is you, Messere. I assume those are things that occurred when you first met Cristina."

"That is correct."

Another silence falls over them and again it is comfortable. Ezio looks out at the crowd of people in town and it briefly dawns on him that he has tasks to complete that do not involve speaking with this woman, but he can't be bothered to care about them right now. Speaking with her had made him feel closer to Cristina and although he does not love her like he does Cristina, he does not want to give that up sooner than he has to.

"Cristina."

Ezio's head snaps up at that. Had he been too lost in thought to hear what she had said? Was she talking about Cristina? His face must have given away his confusion because in the next second she is laughing at him.

"You asked for my name didn't you? Interestingly enough, my name is also Cristina."

"Piaciere, Cristina. I’m Ezio."

"Well, Ezio. It looks like you've got yourself a second chance at friendship."

He hoped to god he would not blow it.

Re: Ezio/"Cristina"

(Anonymous) 2012-05-02 01:47 am (UTC)(link)
I actually had something like this already in the works...
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/6845598/1/Cristina_Memories
I'm kind of de-anoning, but whatever...

Tell me if we're on the same wavelength: I made the girl one of La Volpe's informants. She's in her mid-twenties, and while not necessarily a thief or assassin, herself, she's still a strong asset to the Order. My plan is one chapter per memory.

Most important: she and Ezio are just friends. Nothing more. I had the idea that the reason why talking to her 'activated' the hidden memories, was because Ezio shared with her all those memories. She was helping Ezio dig up those old feelings and move past them, rather than keep them suppressed.

What does OP say?

Fill: Persona Non Grata (1/?)

(Anonymous) 2012-05-03 05:59 am (UTC)(link)
He sees her for the first time in the market place, much like he saw her for the first time that evening in the streets outside what used to be home when death was only a joke he and Federico wished upon the Pazzi boy, and the Auditore family was proud, admired, and whole.

It had been a weary day - he had traversed the countryside only to be ambushed by the Cento Occhi; dealt with a arquebus-wielding, French-spitting Templar agent; chipped his armour from chasing down those damn pickpockets; and nearly slammed his face into the wall just two minutes ago when a pang of hunger shot through his stomach so sharply that he almost lost his grip on the hanging lamp. The vendors are enthusiastic but unhelpful as they offer him sacks of green beans and potatoes when all he wants is an apple - maybe not, perhaps a tomato - to bide the hunger until he reaches the Rosa in Fiore for a long overdue hot meal with his sister and mother. Distracted, famished and exhausted, he hardly notices when he claps his hand over another's as he reaches for a sack of tomatoes.

'Oh!' He starts at the sound and turns with an apology at the tip of his tongue. Then freezes.

'Oh,' he thinks. Fate is a cruel bitch but this is hardly fair. Part of him wants to brush this off because of course there would be other girls who would look like her - no, Cristina was beautiful; breathtakingly beautiful, elegant and charming in a way he hadn't and would never see again - yet part of him is already taking in the curves of her face, her brown eyes, the loose strands of hair escaping from her bun that he used to tug at playfully and press to his lips in greeting, in bed, in farewell -

"Mi dispiace," he says smoothly and removes his hand. The exchange is quick and natural - he has been an assassin for nearly three decades now and tact has become a sixth sense. She nods and turns her attention to the pears but even those years cannot inure him from casting one last look at the light the setting sun streaks across her dark hair.

He finds his tomato and veers off in the opposite direction from her retreating back, keeping his eyes on the cobblestone at his feet. It takes a shortcut through two narrow alleyways and a hasty sprint over the rooftops to make up for the extra distance he has added on his route to the Rosa in Fiore and avoid Claudia's wrath for being late. Blanching at the memory of his sister's adeptness with her fists and knives, he shoves through the crowds.

"He must be late," he hears from one amused spectator. "And she must be beautiful."

'Yes,' his chest constricts painfully and suddenly, he is not so hungry anymore. 'She is beautiful, and I was too late.'

Re: Fill: Persona Non Grata (1/?)

(Anonymous) 2012-05-04 09:02 pm (UTC)(link)
I hate that line that the passerby yell all the time, but you made it immortal. "He must be late. And she must be beautiful."