asscreedkinkmeme | Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt. 5

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assassin's creed

Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt. 5

Assassin's Creed Kink Meme pt.5
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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.

✩ 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.

✩ Have a question? Feel free to PM me.

✩ Last, but not least: HAVE FUN!

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Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
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I'm having some computer troubles but rest assured this fill is not abandoned! There will be another part up later this week! IT WILL HAPPEN! >_<

My computer had some issues the past few days, but rest assured the final parts will be put up later this week. Sorry for the wait! >_<

No, not the tv show. An AU where supernatural creatures roam the earth and our assassins may or may not be one of them. The Kenways could be a werewolf family, Ezio may have had a run in with a vampire or two in his travels, and Altaïr might face off with any number of crazy awesome, middle eastern beings. And let's not forget the modern kids either - Lucy might be a siren, Desmond an awkward medium that's constantly possessed because his shield are crap, and Rebecca might be an ex-hunter of some sort.

Any pairings are a go-go, although OP has a soft spot for Shaun/Rebecca, Connor/Ellen, Ezio/Leo, and Altair/Maria/Malik. But seriously, whatever the author pleases as long as it isn't underage. And because this is a kinkmeme, feel free to throw in any sort of kink you feel fit.

oh dear lord malik would go ape if Federico was hanging around a little sister lol

final parts?

//wibbles// Oh no! Will this glorious fic be ending soon? D:

...there is a comment on another fill with the same message from fill! anon...

//gasp// are you perhaps the same anon who is filling the Haytham with messed up plan to turn Connor into a Templar?

Because who doesn't love shoving our favourite assassins into an American high school?

Maybe everyone tries to pronounce Connor's Mohawk but fails miserably? Maybe the other students try to make fun of 'the weird exchange students' before they get their ass beat?
Really, go crazy!

OP has a very soft spot for Ezio/(teacher)Leo though, but anything is fine, really.

...Yes, yes I am... Flat view gave me away, eh?

Seconding so hard!

Omigod! //faints//

Well, actually, I'm just obsessed with a few particular fics so there are pages I check roughly...every hour or so. :)

I can't believe that talented A! anon is filling my prompt! //faints again// Lol! I thought the writing style seemed somewhat similar. :D

:DDDDDDD

Slender is a known legend during the colonial times (I know it's a meme, but let's just pretend? :D). Both the Assassins and the Templars find out he really exist and decide that supernatural bogey man who steals children and does who knows what with them are bad for both their respective ideals.

So they enter into a brief and grudging alliance to get rid of the creep who is going after helpless children. Except...well, Connor's still a teenager. Something nobody really thinks about because he acts and looks so mature. And everything goes to shit when he becomes the next victim.

I'm claiming! I've been wanting a slendy/creed crossover for ages. :D

"We can rebuild you...Make you stronger...we have the technology..."
ha ha this came to mind when I read the end! Squee! This is amazing! All of them interacting!

What's it with all the delicious Subjects prompts this page? Fillanon might take a few days, but this shall be done.

Awesome! :D Bonus if you make me scared (slender has always scared the ever living daylights out of me).

[I'm sorry that it's so short today... I'm just effing tired :( ]

For us to live, you had to die.

His father died when he'd been elven. Altair had watched as they executed him – his father's life to save a traitor's. His life to pay for a mistake – but it only left one suffering in the end. An elven year old boy who watched his father's beheading, blood staining the grounds as his head fell with empty wide eyes staring up the gray sky. A few years later it happened all over again. The man who'd been as dear to him as his own father died through his blade. Some thought of Al Mualim as a demon, corrupted by the Apple's power, his mind poisoned. For Altair, it wasn't that easy. He couldn't see evil now as he looked at the old man's broken body. All he saw was a man who taught him so much as a child a youth and later as an adult. The worst part was that Altair knew – in his twisted mind, Al Mualim didn't mean harm. He thought what he did was good, he thought he delivered peace. And Altair understood which made it even harder for him to breath now as he carried the corpse towards the pyre. He couldn't hate him and he didn't see a demon when he looked at him, just a man who wanted to do good with terrible methods.

He was eyed skeptical by several members of the Order, some of them still trapped within the artifact's magic, its invisible threads looped around their bodies and playing them like little puppets. Most of them were simply confused, scared maybe, as their Grandmaster had died and everything was at chaos. Others though believed Altair being the real traitor, corrupting their Master's mind and lulling him into doom, killing him in the end as if he'd been planing everything right from the beginning. Only a few knew the truth as they had fought by Altair's side, helping him to get into the fortress so he could meet his fate as he stood in front of Al Mualim, ready to find his death if he should fail. No one stopped him as he walked towards, laying their Master down onto the piled wood, his fingers brushing across the black robes and for a moment he thought he was only sleeping. Nobody was attending the funeral as it wasn't really one, his Brothers holding their distance - most didn't approve with burning him. As the sun slowly died and with the moon rising it was just him standing their, his Grandmaster's ashes still glowing a soft orange its heat reaching his skin, warming him.

He didn't turn around when he heard him slowly walking up to him. Malik stopped just shortly behind Altair – even he didn't dare to get any closer. He was silent for the longest of moments, the fire still cracking. "Sad are only those who understand", Malik said eventually. Altair's head felt just a bit heavier, his muscles tired and heart cold. He had his hood up, shielding him from the soft breeze blowing and from everybody's eyes watching him. He wondered how it was possible for Malik to be so spot on and his shoulders slumped down as he curled the fingers of his left hand into a tight fist. "You know what he always said? We're using lies to tell the truth while the Templars use them to cover the truth up", Altair murmured softly, his words carried away by the wind and sparks were dancing in front of him. He looked up into the dark sky, the wind bringing tears to his eyes. "It makes me wonder now which of those he did."

"Don't confuse yourself Altair. He was fooling us, betraying and compromising our Creed. You did the right thing in the right moment."

"And when the moment ends?"

"When the moment ends it's in the past. The past shouldn't weight you down."

They were quiet after that, both lost in their own memories, fighting their own inner battles. While Altair often enjoyed the silence, today it was just too loud for him to bear. "What are you doing here anyway?", he asked Malik in a raspy voice.

"We are one, Altair", and he thought he could hear the smile in his voice. "As we share the glory of victory-"

"-so too should we share the pain of defeat", Altair finished as it was the same Malik told him back in Jerusalem when he'd told him he was sorry.

"It seems today it's both. Victory and defeat", Malik murmured, placing one hand on Altair's shoulder, squeezing gently. It was actually nice not being alone also Altair was torn between shoving the other man away or relaxing underneath his touch. His muscles went tense anyway and for a split second he trembled, fearing for a moment that he wouldn't be able to control his emotions any longer. He swallowed it all down then and they stood there for a long time until it was deep in the night, the fire had long died and its warmth was gone. Malik had left eventually, leaving Altair by himself and when the ash had cooled down he took a fistful of it, stretching his arm out and then letting go, all of it, the gray flakes flying away with the wind just like the memory he had of a man that no longer existed.

Thank you so much : )

Love jealous/over-protective Haytham in this, can't wait to read more!

Heh, I should have known. Writer-anon is amazing, and I've been stalking you on AO3 as well. Devoted-reader!anon will eagerly wait for the next part.

BTW: In this last part... I wonder if Connor starts connecting the dots:

- Guards chasing you
- You're a captain of a ship
- Your dad is having you watched almost 24/7 and obviously does not want you to remember your past exploits...

... Connor must think he's some kind of nefarious pirate! JK

I ship them so hard, Connor is always really cute when interacting with Sam.

I'd love a fic where Connor had a crush on Sam ever since he helped him after the Boston Massacre, and finally gets to act on it around the Boston Tea Party. Tender sex ensues with an eager, if inexperienced, Connor.

Instead of Kadar dying at Solomon's Temple, it's Altair.

Malik had secret feelings for him.

Cue the angst.

That's Captain Jack Sp-I mean Connor Kenway. :)

Despite loving his work, any sane man would agree that being a teacher was tiresome and demanding. Malik himself was no exception and was, after all, only human. As such, whenever weekends came around, he enjoyed it to the fullest, usually resting, to start anew on the following monday. Most of his Saturdays and Sundays were spent lying on his bed, lazily reading a book, watching whatever was remotely watchable on TV or taking naps. Sometimes he went out with Kadar and sometimes he didn't didn’t come back home - his brother was a great cook after all, and Malik never refused an invite to have dinner with him.

First it was weird when Kadar got his own house and they started living separately. Now it was weird visiting and seeing his girlfriend - now fiance, he had to remind himself - sharing the place with him (but no less welcoming). He was getting used to the additional feminine touches (though he feared he would never get used to her eccentric superstitions) and it made him happy to see Kadar always smiling.

Before Anne moved in, Malik used to take the free space on Kadar’s huge bed. Now he uses the couch, but with no complaints. It’s still comfortable and big enough to fit him whole. It works just as good as the bed and besides, he prefers it that way - he can leave the lights on for longer and read his books till sleep finds him.

He was so damned certain that after a few weeks without any nightmares his physical exhaustion would be gone for good, yet the moment he entered through the front door, he felt as if his energy had been completely drained. If Kadar or Anne noticed anything, they didn't mention it.

After dinner, Anne locked herself in her office to work on her monograph. They stayed in the living room, talking about trivial things, watching some late night shows until Malik couldn't keep his eyes open anymore and promptly claimed the couch for himself.

He was so positively sure nothing would happen tonight, especially tonight, because the last thing he wanted was for his brother to learn about what his nightmares did to him. And despite not believing in karma, he started to think that if it did exist in fact, then he must have done something unforgivable in his past lives for suffering like this.

It was three in the morning when his eyes shot open and he jumped from the couch, falling hard on the ground. He kicked the coffee table in the process, hit his arm against some glasses and a vase of flowers on top of it, dropping everything to the ground. The vase shattered with a loud noise and the glasses rolled away, not breaking, but still loud enough that Kadar came running a minute later to see what was going on.

He did not see him at first, too busy trying to put as much distance between him and the couch as if it burned. His throat locked tight and he gasped for air, crawling backwards as fast as possible, only stopping when his back hit the wall. In seconds, Kadar was by his side, holding his shoulder.

"What's wrong? What's happening?!"

He heard footsteps and saw Anne running to him from behind Kadar.

"I don't know! Make it stop!" He screamed at the top of his lungs, but regretted this decision when it only made breathing harder. His hands clutched his head with force but he didn't care. It distracted him from the terrible pounding inside his head.

"It looks like a nervous breakdown." She spoke as calmly as possible.

"What do I do?"

"Try to hold him down!"

Malik felt his brother hold his shoulders with both hands and he couldn’t even move or tell him to stop. Still hiding his face from the others, his right hand grabbed Kadar’s shirt tightly. ‘Breathe. Calm down and breathe.’ the words formed a mantra on his mind.

“What’s causing this? Malik, look at me.”

“I don’t know!” Malik wished he knew. He honestly wished he knew so he could stop whatever it was that was causing this anxiety. “I’m - I see things, ugh!” His forehead rested against Kadar’s chest. “These dreams, these visions, I don’t know what they are, I just - shit!”

Kadar pulled him into a tight embrace. He rubbed circles on his back and part of him wanted to punch his brother for treating him like he was the younger brother. But perhaps that’s what made him calm down a little. His breathing slowed down until it was regular again and the pain on his chest eased for a bit. The best part was his throat wasn’t suffocating him anymore which made him a lot more relaxed. Still, his hands shook violently, but Anne mentioned it would stop after a while. He took a deep breath and once he felt better (though the fear and panic rushing through his mind remained), he slowly let go of Kadar, resting against the wall again. He still held a hand over his face, not enjoying the way he managed to make a show of his problem in front of other people, let alone his own brother.

“I’ll leave you two alone if you need to talk, but call me if you need anything alright?”

Malik saw her touch Kadar’s shoulder and nodded. Then she headed for the balcony, closing the glass door behind her. Looking behind Kadar, he noticed the mess caused by his panic. If he had been home he wouldn’t have minded, but he was troubling his brother with his own problem and he hated it.

“Has this happened before?”

Malik nodded tiredly. “A few times. Started recently.”

Kadar pondered about the information for a moment. “You should’ve told me about this.” the disappointment in his voice was too much for him to bear.

“I didn’t want to tell anyone, besides, I thought it was temporary. I didn’t think it would return. Especially today. I’m sorry Kadar.” but Kadar quickly shook his head.

“Don’t be sorry, idiot!” sighing, he helped Malik up and guided him to the couch. “You said something about dreams.”

“More like nightmares.” He made a face when portions of these nightmares flickered through his mind. “Terrible ones. So much blood, so many people.” once again his hands covered his face, but Kadar didn’t stop staring. It comforted him in a way.

“Was that why you asked me for that dreamcatcher?”

He nodded meekly.

“You know dreamcatchers don’t really work, right? They’re just a tiny hula hoop with strings, feathers and beads.”

Malik felt like crying. “I know that! I know that and that’s the worst part because that damned trinket actually worked! These stupid nightmares didn’t stop entirely, but they didn’t come so frequently and with such intensity after you gave me that thing.”

“What made you better was believing that it would give you better dreams. It’s the same for me. All these lucky charms Anne gives me? I don’t believe in them, but I believe in her and that makes me feel protected. Have you tried meditating?”

“I’m going to kill you, Kadar.” Malik shot him a murderous glare. “I’m being serious here.”

“And so am I! Meditating helps you keep control of your body, it could help with these panic attacks.”

He pondered the idea, which was better than downright turning it down.

“Alright, look, if you want something more scientifically proved, then you could try yoga. It helps you control breathing. Really!”

Before Malik could reply however, they heard a scream. It wasn’t loud and didn’t last long, but since both Kadar and Anne looked in the direction it came from, he knew he wasn’t just hearing things. Following it came the screeching sound of tires against asphalt and in no time dogs around the neighborhood started barking at the unwelcoming uproar.

Anne entered the room again and hid a yawn behind her hand.

“What was that?” Kadar asked curiously, perhaps a bit preoccupied.

“That stupid neighbor again, he took off with his car like there was a fire or something. He hit the fucking garbage can and woke up half the dogs around town. Ugh, I need an aspirin.” With tired eyes, she looked back at Malik. “Feeling better? Wanna a ride to the hospital?”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

Nodding sympathetically, she left through the corridor that led to the stairs. Kadar was rubbing his back when her face peeked out from behind the wall again and she quietly asked:

“Ever tried yoga? Helps with breathing, you know.”

The sound Malik made then was the closest thing to weeping Kadar would ever hear from him.

----------

Not long after that incident Malik found himself heading to the cramped, dimly lit area of the library at college that no one ever went to. The labels on the the few bookshelves read “Exoterics and self-help” and he couldn’t help but cringe at himself, highly reconsidering the urge to leave before anyone caught him. He blamed his curiosity (because that’s what it was, simply curiosity and not a desperate act) on his lack of sleep and exponential increase of nightmares.

According to the book in his hands, a rather small blue book with hardcover that read “The meaningful dreams”, dreaming of his own arm meant struggles and challenges in his life. Which yes, he was being troubled by dreams. Dreams that showed him his own arm, to warn him of hardships the dreams were causing.

It made no sense whatsoever.

An injured arm, however (did they have cut off arm in it?), meant being unable to help himself. Lovely. He also looked up the meaning of seeing his own brother die in his dreams, and the missing finger, none of which were very helpful with the vague responses either.

But recently his dreams had become longer and more vivid. He could absorb more details now and he remembered them for longer. In the past week, he dreamt twice of people dressed in white. He interacted with some of them, even. He was inside a room, a large one, filled with colored cushions. Daylight entered through the door to his left and illuminated the place with an orange glow. He spent most of his time working on something, though he couldn’t make out what it was, nor did he remember those moments well enough because they didn’t seem important.

The moments he did remember were the men dressed in white coming and going. They’d come from the door, talked to him for a while, sometimes they delivered him things, and then they’d be on their way. One man in particular grabbed his attention. Whenever he came in, Malik tensed. His presence alone made him boil with anger and he didn’t even know why. His face... he couldn’t remember the face of that man, no matter how hard he tried.

He turned his nose in disgust and closed the book, putting it back in its place. Before he could turn to leave though, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“If you wanted to read those kind of books you could have asked me, Anne has like, half a dozen of them.”

“I don’t want to read that book, I was just checking it out.” He turned fully to Kadar. “And I was right, nothing in there. These dreams are completely meaningless.”

Angry that he had come to look for answers and found none, Malik turned sharply to leave, but was met by another person. They collided violently and he had to take a few steps back, being supported by his brother in order not to fall.

The headache returned instantly. That faint, lingering sensation of a buzzing inside his head, something that made him unfocused and tired. He looked up at the man who bumped into him. He didn’t seem to be feeling any better either, supporting himself in one of the bookshelves and hunching forward, clutching his head. Weird, Malik didn’t remember bumping his head, so why were they both feeling as if they did?

“Malik?” Kadar shook him slightly and he noticed that the moment his name was heard, the man in front of him looked him in the eyes. A weird man, wearing a white hood inside a building. His eyes were a burning gold and when he looked down he noticed a faint white scar on his lips.

“You. Malik Al-Sayf?” The man asked between short puffs of air. He seemed as distressed as Malik himself.

“Why? Who are you? What do you want?” Malik couldn’t say another world. In a moment he was falling and his brother was catching him. The last thing he saw from the corner of his eyes was the man in front of him collapsing as well.

He wished the man would be gone when he woke up. That this had all been a bad dream.

----------

The infirmary wasn’t too big, only three beds, two tables and a few chairs around. When Malik woke up, he was laying down in one of the beds, the one closest to the door. Looking around he saw the place was empty, save for his brother, who rushed to him as soon as his eyes opened. He sat beside him on a comfortable, beige chair.

“Malik? Feeling better?”

He touched his head. There was still a faint headache but he felt a lot better than before.

“I’m fine.”

“What happened?”

“I felt dizzy all of a sudden.” he sighed. “Where’s the other guy? I thought he had collapsed as well.”

“He did, but he woke up a while ago and left.” Kadar’s features turned serious and he twisted his nose. “Did you know Altaïr?”

“Never seen before.” Malik shook his head, then stopped and looked at his brother. “Wait, you know him?”

His brother snorted. “He’s my neighbor, moved in to the house next to mine shortly after I moved there. Remember when you were in my house and you had one of those panic attacks?” Malik nodded, but turned his face. He just wanted to forget that embarrassing night. “The one Anne said had hit the garbage and woke up the canine neighborhood was him. He’s usually not a troublesome man, most of the time he’s not even home, but that was the second time he caused tumult in the neighborhood.”

Then Kadar turned to him and his eyes almost seemed to shine. “You should have seen when the cops came a few months ago. They thought Altaïr was a drug dealer and then two cops came to him and you should have seen the way he fought them off. It was so cool.” his brother seemed to struggle to contain a smile. “Well, turns out he wasn’t a drug dealer, but they still took him for punching officers around. He was released the next day though.

Malik raised an eyebrow at his excitement, but said nothing.

“He seemed to know you.” Kadar mentioned after a moment of silence and that bit of information caught Malik’s attention. “I brought you here and someone who was passing by helped bring him too. When he woke up he just stared at me and asked if you were Malik. I said yes and again he asked ‘Are you sure?’ and when I said yes he just took off. Didn’t even let the doctor do the usual check-up. I don’t even know what he was doing here, he’s not coursing anything here, as far as I’m concerned. Crazy guy.”

Malik opened his mouth to say something, but closed it. His brother probably noticed it and held his hand in a way that comforted him. He knew Kadar wanted to ask ”What is it?” but also didn’t want to pressure him. He really didn’t want to share everything related to his dream problems with Kadar - it was bad enough already that he knew they existed in the first place - but at the same time, hiding it from the only person who could probably understand him also felt wrong.

“I’ve seen him before, I think. In one of these vis- dreams,” dreams, not visions. “I didn’t see his face, but I think it was him. It didn’t happen once or twice, it’s been happening a lot now.” He glanced at Kadar to see his reaction, but he listened quietly. “I see a lot of people dressing the same, and one of them feels like him. Like this guy.” Sighing, he let go of his brother’s hand. “I’m always angry in the dreams whenever he shows up. It makes me anxious, makes my heart beat faster. But also...” Malik blinked and looked at him. “I didn’t wake up in panic the few times I dreamt of him.”

“Really?” Kadar relaxed in his seat, messing with the armrest. “Well maybe you should dream of him more often.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t dream any of this at all.”

His brother seemed serious for a moment and let out a long sigh. He braced himself for what was coming. “I know you don’t believe any of this. I don’t either, but...”

“But what?”

“Given the circumstances, don’t you think these dreams really mean something?”

“Kadar.” Malik rolled his eyes.

“I don’t mean like the book you were reading! I don’t think you need that to figure out something on your subconscious is trying to lead you to him. Maybe you should talk to him. Just talk with him, it might help with something. He seemed like he wanted to talk to you anyway.”

“Kadar.”

“Two people collapsing when they touched each other? What sort of coincidence is that? It has to be something more. What if he’s suffering, just like you? What if he’s having weird dreams too? What if that’s what he wants to talk to you about?”

“Oh, that’s a brilliant idea. What am I supposed to do? Knock on his door and say Hello, I’m your neighbor’s brother and I’ve been dreaming of you. Can I come in for a cup of coffee while we talk about our creepy dreams?’” He snorted at his own mocking idea. “No, if anything, I just want to stay away from him.” He turned to Kadar. “And so should you. Drug dealer or not, he doesn’t look like good company.”

“But Malik...”

“IF he has something to do with my problems, just IF, then it’s all the more reason for him to stay as far away as possible. I don’t even know for sure that he was the man I saw in my dream. But if he’s causing this to me Kadar, I swear...”

“But maybe it’s fate. Maybe it’s destiny that you should talk to him.”

“There is no fate!” He slapped his hand down on the mattress hard. It startled Kadar who looked him right in the eye. He was out of control. “There is no destiny! There isn’t ANYTHING of the sort! Okay, maybe it’s one hell of a coincidence, a creepy coincidence - I’ll give you that - but there are no ultimate forces doing this! Maybe I’m stressed, I’m not sleeping well and that’s what causing the nightmares, but I am in control of my own person and I’m not letting anyone - anything of the sort decide what I should or should not do!”

Silence filled the room and Malik lowered his eyes. Guilty overtook him when he realized he had been yelling.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to lose control. I just... I really don’t want to see him again. I don’t want to have anything to do with this anymore. I’m tired.”

But Kadar shook his head. “I’m sorry too, I shouldn’t be putting these things in your head. Perhaps it will do you some good to avoid him after all.” He got up and helped Malik. “Come on, I’ll give you a ride back home.”

The history teacher grabbed his backpack and followed his brother. He regretted yelling at Kadar, but was surprised at how good it made him feel after his outburst.

“Still, it’s a shame that it’s gonna end like this. Very anticlimactic. I kinda wanted to know what would happen if you two met. Without the two of you collapsing, I mean.” Kadar started on their way to the parking lot. Malik glanced at him, but waited for him to finish. “In any case, you shouldn’t worry about it anymore. If Altaïr’s related to your bad dreams, they should stop this week.”

“Why is that?” He tried to sound uninterested.

“He’s moving to New York this week. That’s what the neighbours are saying at least.”

“Really?”

They entered the car and as Kadar started the engine, Malik couldn’t stop thinking about it. Somehow it seemed anticlimactic indeed.

“Yeah. Maybe you two weren’t supposed to meet after all.”

For the rest of the week, Malik didn’t have any nightmares. No nights he woke up frightened and shivering, but the dreams didn’t stop either. Instead, he had pleasant dreams. In the dreams, somehow, the few times that man - Altaïr - showed up, Malik didn’t feel enraged anymore. He felt calm. They talked sometimes, though he couldn’t make out the words.

When weekend rolled in, he put away the dreamcatcher in the same drawer from before. Still no nightmares. He met with Kadar, told him how he was getting better and how, somehow, Altaïr may have been the cause of his bad sleeping habits to begin with and how he couldn’t have been more grateful that he was gone.

For a moment Malik honestly believed that, with time, even the dreams that showed him visions would stop entirely. He was sure of it and dare he say, even had faith in it. Soon, he would be completely back to normal.

Perhaps because of this belief, of this positively certainty that he would never suffer from those bad dreams again, it almost felt like a punch on his stomach when the principal told him he was going to attend to a lecture in New York during the next week.

Kadar had never laughed so much before.

OP is so enraged right now you guys have no idea,

so i want to see our beloved dai have all hell break loose

perhaps include something along the lines of 'i did not deserve this, to lose my brother and my arm and have nobody pay for it'

so he kills the assassin grandmaster or tortures him into a slow death i don't know go crazy writeranon! even make me regret having requested this in the first place

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Page 156 of 385

Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt. 5

fill anon

fill anon

Supernatural AU

Re: fem!kadar/federico

Re: fill anon

Re: fill anon

Academia AU

fill anon

Re: This is not where we fell asleep - Haytham/Ziio

Re: fill anon

slenderman, Achilles-Haytham cooperation

oh man

Re: Citadel 1/?

Re: You‘re home now

OP

Re: Fill: Down The Rabbit Hole And Back Again 7/?

Re: OP

Re: Three Princes, Chapter 4 part 2

Re: fill anon

Connor/Samuel Adams

Altair/Malik, Angst

Re: fill anon

Re: Dream Catcher - Part 1a

Re: Dream Catcher - Part 1b

Malik kills Altair, doesn't feel even a little bit of regret