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

Entry tags:

assassin's creed

Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt. 5

Assassin's Creed Kink Meme pt.5
Fill Only

Join or Die

✩ 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!

List of Kinks
Kink Meme Masterlist
New Kink Meme Masterlist
(Livejorunal) Archive
(Delicious.com) Archive
#2 (Livejournal) Archive
#2 (Delicious.com) Archive
(Dreamwidth) Archive <- Currently active
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Fills Only
Discussion

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Not my favorite chapter (so this is what it feels like to write fanfic while sleepy and drunk), but felt it needed to be written. Hopefully, it'll move a bit quicker soon.

Master of the House

Chapter 20 - A Second Opinion

Unbeknownst to all other members of the household, Connor awaited Doctor White’s arrival just as eagerly, though with far fewer outlets of expression, as Clipper did. At times when Clipper would hold his hand and whisper of the news the doctor had written for him in the letter, he would feel his heartbeat quicken and almost felt as if he could stir. And, at night, when Charles had finished with him, he concentrated on his memories of spying on Myriam to help Norris woo her, of breaking up the fight between Godfrey and Terry, and of rallying the Homesteaders in defense of Ellen from her boorish husband.

Just knowing that they were confirmed to be alive and well, and that Charles hadn’t lied to him almost a year ago...well, that made it easier to endure his husband and his neverending lusts.

And so he listened to Clipper’s reading of the letter and of his recruit’s secret hopes and dreams when they were alone together. And Connor felt...peaceful, for once.

Clipper was here now, beside him. And Doctor White would soon be here as well. He’d bring news of everyone, of Corrine and Ellen and Myriam and Norris and everyone. And Connor could finally begin to feel whole again, as if the past year hadn’t happened.

Connor couldn’t wait to see Doctor White again.

-----

Charles watched the doctor carefully as the man first stepped into the room housing his wife. He still wasn’t sure he trusted the man, despite his honesty and courage (as well as subtlety) in the answering of his earlier questions.

Although Charles had had his agents collect as much information about the Homestead residents so long ago when he was planning his ambush, he had to admit he could not find much on the doctor so trusted by his wife’s circle of friends. All Charles could find was that he had a tarnished reputation (though he did verify that it was a fraudulent report initiated by angry Redcoats), that he helped in the birth of the child of two of the other Homesteaders, and that he seemed to preferred spending the bulk of his time with those who had the need of his services but not necessarily the money for them. And that he was an Omega.

A puzzle, this Doctor White, a relatively unknown puzzle. His wife seemed to collect such puzzles, soft Alphas, willful Omegas, dangerous old Assassins, and Charles had even heard tell of a guard turkey.

Of course, Charles had immediately demoted the man who brought back that piece of news for drinking on the job. He would not suffer fools who indulged so much that they hallucinated turkeys dressed as Assassins that were capable of beating back an entire pack of wolves who had accidentally wandered too near the mansion.

Really, did the Templar recruits think him gullible?

Charles shook his head and went back to watching the man, the enigma, this...Doctor White.

He had slowly, deferentially approached the bed and the body upon it.

“Oh Connor...”

The doctor reached out towards the blankly staring form, hands almost shaking. Charles could see him visibly calm himself before pressing two fingers gently against his wife’s throat to feel for his pulse.

Moments passed by in silence, then he laid hands on Connor’s covers.

“Do I have your permission to examine him closer?”

Charles was surprised to hear the man acknowledge his authority. It was...gratifying that someone should understand his place within this house and seek his approval, and Charles readily gave it. Doctor White then turned back towards his patient and, to Charles’s further surprise, spoke directly to Connor.

“Pardon me, Connor, but I must draw these back to examine you.” Thus speaking, he carefully swept the heavy blankets aside, leaving Connor covered in nothing but a thin long white nightshirt.

Perhaps it was the doctor’s almost reverent touch, perhaps it was the fact that he knew Doctor White was a widower who had lost his own mate, who had been a female Omega of all things, years before he met Connor. But for once, he did not feel threatened by the man’s proximity to his wife.

At the sight of Connor’s body, outlined as he was by the thin shift, the doctor shook his head sadly.

“Much too thin,” he muttered. He then set about testing the limberness of Connor’s limbs and checking the whites of his eyes.

“How long has he been this way?” he asked Charles, eyes still focused on his patient.

“Several months now. Ever since he lost our first child...”

Doctor White frowned.

“I am sorry for the loss.”

Charles grunted.

“It is a long time to be in this condition. How have you sustained him?”

Charles remembered those solitary meals and grimaced.

“The servants have been spooning broth into him twice a day. He can still swallow, but it is never enough. I fear him wasting away.”

The doctor nodded, then laid a gentle hand on the buttons that closed the nightshirt.

“May I?” he asked, fingers ready to undo the buttons at Connor’s chest and belly.

Charles pursed his lips but nodded reluctantly. He was not happy about sharing his wife’s nakedness, even if it wasn’t full nakedness, with other people, but he admitted the need for the doctor to examine him fully.

“Forgive me, Connor,” Doctor White murmured before placing his hands on Charles’s wife.

Unlike Matthew, who tended to be rougher and more efficient as a whole, this doctor was more gentle as he massaged Connor’s chest, carefully testing the breast tissue.

Without a word, he opened Connor’s nightgown a little more, gently feeling around his belly.

“He is definitely pregnant, but the pregnancy is young yet. He will likely need far more nutrients than you are currently providing with only broth. Try to see if you can add eggs or salmon into his diet. Dark green vegetables and fruits should also be encouraged, if possible. Ground it up with a bit of sugar and ginger and it would make a rather tasty dessert.”

Charles lifted an eyebrow in surprise, but made a note to ask Mary to speak with the cook.

Then he eyed the man in speculation. He was...knowledgeable, Charles was surprised to note. Perhaps he would retain his services after all.

Just as he was about to propose another visit, the doctor suddenly stiffened.

“W-what is this?”

Charles leaned over his shoulder to look, Clipper right behind him...and saw a dark bruise on Connor’s hip, just barely visible from the opening of his nightshirt.

Charles turned red. Clipper turned white.

“Perhaps I was a bit...overhasty in my passions last night.”

Doctor White clenched his hands.

“You mean to tell me that you treat him with such violence when...”

“No!” Charles was scandalized. “I merely take what a husband is entailed to.”

“A husband who takes what he is entailed to when his wife lies insensate is not a good husband!”

Charles bristled.

“You dare?”

“Yes, I dare.” Doctor White snapped. “I dare not only because he is my friend, but because he is my patient. I do not know about who else you may have watching his bedside, but I, sir, am honor-bound to do the best by my patients, no matter who they are or what they think they are entitled to hear.”

Charles looked at him, stunned. He briefly noticed James’s Omega doing the same, eyes all wide and...and proud...

Damn.

Charles did not want to hear this.

“You do not mean to suggest that it would be dangerous for the child, or for him, that I engage in such activities. They have not harmed anyone when done right and I am—“

He blushed.

“—I am gentle with my wife. I do not treat him roughly.”

The doctor, he noticed, did not looked very convinced. Though, with the large hand-shaped bruise on his wife’s hips, he had to admit that he did not make a very strong case.

“I cannot say, for certain, whether this activity endangers them,” Doctor White admitted.

And Charles breathed a sigh of relief.

“But there is much of this world that we people have not yet discovered and do not understand. We are trying and reaching for that understanding, but it eludes us, and we must leave to future generations to pave that path.”

Doctor White turned fully to him.

“The man that I saw steal a bride away from his intended groom that day in the church did not think about the cracks that appeared in the community from the removal of one of its most valued members in a most cruel and devastating way. That we eventually healed and were able to go on with our lives despite the disruption is less a measure of your thoughtfulness but more of our own endurance and ability.”

Charles frowned.

“You did not care for us, for who were we to you? But who is to say you are not making the same mistake again? But that this time, it will be parts of your wife and child that suffer from it?”

Silence.

Charles licked his lips in contemplation, then...

“Safe return to your home. I shall think on what you said.”

With a grave bow, Charles backed out of the room.

Thanks! :)

Connor won't wake up for a while yet, but the pace should speed up soon, so it'll seem like shorter to us. :)

Meeting the father of the bride! :D I love it!

Washington's head is such an interesting place to be, and his reaction to Achilles is perfect! You've done the hinting aspect really well...the contemplation of his wife not returning (when it's actually flipped)...the "I will do everything in my power to protect my family." //sniffs//

Oh my WashCon feels.

You're really good at writing WashCon feels... :D

Thanks you :) Yeah Washington was in luck that he survived Achilles. Imagine Ziio and Haytham... especially if Alpha parents are over-protective of their Omega children when it comes to marriage/mating, I doubt they'll think anyone is good enough for Connor or to sire their grandchildren. I know George won't stand a chance.

This was an amazing chapter! There's just so much that I love, like Doctor White /HUUUUUGS/ finally handles Connor like he's a human being unlike Matthew (who I guess is going to remain as Connor's doctor), Charles being told off (must have been a slap in the face. Kind of reminds me of when Connor sassed back at Haytham in the game. Templar leaders aren't used to being put in their places), and of course now Charles knows about the Turkey Assassin ... when I read this, it took me a long time to stop laughing before I could finish the rest of the chapter.

Anyway, Charles' coronation should be coming up soon, right? That should be interesting, since the public will want to know more about his personal life and his wife's condition.

Oh god this is absolutely fantastic XD I love you writeranon, everything about this is perfect and i'm smiling so hard that my face hurts XD poor poor Connor, having to put up with all of Paul's shit :P

Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!

(seriously didn't expect this to get filled so fast lol)

XD well if you'd like to at some point it'll always be welcomed with open arms! if you can't well no harm, no foul. :)

(Well.... That took longer than i expected it too, sorry OP! but here it is, i hope it meets you enjoy it, if not, can't say i didn't try!)

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It was cold, almost like a blanket of snow wrapped itself around him, but he wasn't shivering.

Connor groaned as he slowly awoke, for a moment he was confused, where was the pain? He had been shot, hadn't he? Slowly, his eyes cracked open, sun shining brightly into them blinding him for a moment. Once his eyes had adjusted to the sun he opened them wider, taking in his surroundings. This wasn't Boston, It couldn't be, there were to many trees and not nearly enough buildings. He shifted, getting to his feet and beginning to walk down the road before him, knowing he had seen it before, but where? As he continued down the dirt road every building he passed became more and more familiar, yet he couldn't place them. He pushed forward, walking up the road until a large brick house came into view. Connor stared at it for a moment, finally realizing where he was, but how had he gotten back to Davenport? How could he have possibly gone from being in Boston to being here?

"Hello?" He asked as he stepped inside the house, knowing no response would come. No, not these days when the once warm, inviting home had only himself as it's resident. Connor shook his head before stepping back outside the house and heading towards the stables, the horses would need taking care of. For a moment he paused, staring down at the horse waiting patiently by the hitching post. Although familiar it certainly was not one of his horses, but yet there it stood, as if it belonged there and always had. With a shrug of his shoulders Connor quickly made his way over to the mare, stroking her neck with a small smile.

"What are you doing here?" He asked as he reached up and stroked the mare's forelock.

"Well, I figured it was about time someone gave her a proper grooming." Connor jumped slightly as he heard a voice from his past approach him. "Now step aside, I have a lot of work to do boy."

Connor almost laughed as he reached forwards and embraced the old man.

"Connor, release me this instant I have work to do." Achilles demanded with a slight smile. "It's as though you haven't groomed my horse once since I've been away."

"Achilles, you are alive, how?" Connor asked as he released the old man.

"Alive? No."

"Then I am..." Connor paused for a moment unsure how to feel, he was dead, but he felt alive, he felt happy, he felt. "I see."

"How has everything been since I've been away?" Achilles asked as he ran a brush over the horse's coat.

"Charles Lee is dead, the Templars are left without a leader and our order is growing stronger each day." he told the old man as he went back to stroking the mare's forelock.

"That is good news," Achilles paused his brushing, looking up into the forest for a moment before turning towards Connor. "And the homestead?"

Connor shrugged, not daring to move farther than he had to from Achilles's side in fear that he might disappear. "Warren and Prudence are trying for a second child and Myriam and Norris are expecting already, it is astounding how fast the homestead is really growing."

Achilles smiled lightly as he brushed some mud off his horse. "And the assassins?"

Connor hummed lightly as he watched the older man groom the horse. "Stephane has become a master assassin in your absence, he assists greatly with the order and is constantly helping us expand and grow. I know the order will be in good hands with him there, with my passing he will surely be the one to take my place. the others respect him and he is firm in his conviction to our creed."

"Go on.." Achilles mumbled, gently encouraging the younger man to continue.

"I.... am worried for Clipper, he is strong willed but he does not always think out his plans. He wishes to be like me, but," Connor smiled as he stared at his mentor. "I do not wish to see him act so foolishly."

Achilles shook his head, letting out a small stream of chuckles. "I can see where you would worry about that, you always were a bit brash, not to mention a thorn in my side." For a moment Achilles turned to look at the assassin by his side. "However, I would not trade those moments for anything."

"Nor would I, Old Man." Connor stated light heartedly.

Achilles nodded briefly, turning back towards his horse and the task at hand, "You have a visitor."

"Ratonhnhaké:ton..." Connor quickly turned on his heel, as he heard a voice he never thought he'd hear again.

"Mother..." He began as he took a step towards her, almost afraid she would disappear if he got to close, she looked just like he remembered.

"My... look how big you've gotten," She said softly as she walked forward and pressed a hand to his cheek. With that he reached forward and wrapped his arms around her tightly, burying his face into her neck.

"I have missed you." He mumbled into her shoulder as he held her tightly.

"Well, this time I'm not going anywhere." she told him as she rubbed small circles into his back soothingly, "I promise."

When he finally pulled back he smiled at her, his eyes slightly red.

"Achilles has told me about what you have done, being an assassin, the people you've killed," She paused sparing Connor a glance as he looked away sheepishly, "and the people you've saved, the people whose lives you've changed and made better."

Achilles turned slightly as he brushed out the horses mane, watching the mother and son have their moment with a smile.

"Mother, I-"

"It's okay Ratonhnhaké:ton," She began with a smile, "I am proud of you."

"As am I." Connor froze as he looked past his mother, watching as his father walked towards them. "An interesting place to chose to spend your afterlife I must admit." Haytham said as he joined them, wrapping an arm around Ziio's waist. Connor bristled slightly at his father's forwardness before his mother elbowed his father in the stomach.

"I'm still mad at you." She snapped at him sharply, Haytham smiled as he placed a hand to his now sore gut.

"Give it time," He said with a wink, turning away from Ziio to face his son.

"What are you doing here?" Connor asked slowly, hand resting on his tomahawk.

"That's a rather redundant question isn't it? After all you are the one who killed me." Haytham said as he placed his arms behind his back. "If you really must know, I'm here to make amends. To perhaps be a better father to you in this life than I was in the last." Connor nodded slowly as he watched his father carefully.

Quickly hobbling over Achilles placed a hand on Connor's shoulder. "Connor, Thank you for returning to bother this old fool once more." He began with a slightly somber smile, his grip tightening on the boy's shoulder. " I.... I have missed you boy."

Connor nodded to his mentor slowly, a small smile creeping onto his face, "And I you old Man, It is good to be home."

this was such a good conversation; i love the way that they're being so straightforward with each other and communicating to try and avoid misunderstandings, which is so wonderfully mature of them. seriously loving the slow, quiet build of this.

"And just where the hell did you run off to?" Shaun badgered when Desmond walked back again.

"I just need some air." Desmond replied curtly which caused Becca to frown.

"Look, we were really worried about you. You had this look on your face like-"

"It's fine. Really, I'm okay now." Desmond cut her off and tried to give her a brave smile, "Let's just restart the animus."

"Okay, but you know you can talk to us about anything right?" The engineer told him. Shaun just rolled his eyes and went back to work.

"Yeah, I know. I appreciate it, I do, but I'm fine." Desmond replied climbing back into the animus chair.

Once inside Desmond found himself something seemed to go wrong. He wasn't back in time or anywhere like that. It was like he was stuck in a white floating limbo.

"We need to talk, hafeed." From the midst Altair stepped forward. Desmond looked shocked. This had never happened before. Normally he was Altair, experiencing his life through his eyes.

"Um..." To be truthful Desmond wasn't even sure how to address Altair. "Talk about what?"

"About your illness. The fear that makes your heart pound and your breathing difficult." The medieval assassin replied.

"There's no illness. I'm perfectly fine." Desmond replied curtly but found an arm slung over his shoulder.

"Ah but you can not lie to us, nipote*." Ezio said keeping Desmond from wandering off, "After all we live in your mind now."

"It doesn't even affect you! There's nothing to talk about." Desmond replied struggling.

"Maybe," Ezio relented but continued to head towards Altair, "But we are familgia and familgia sticks together, no? You are our descendant. Our flesh and blood. Does it really surprise you that we would want to you to be happy? Wouldn't you want the same for your children and their children and their children until forever. Please, talk with us."

"I can leave whenever I want?" Desmond asked warily.

"You are free to go as you wish, you always have hafeed." Altair replied. The eldest among them sat down cross legged and made a motion for Ezio and Desmond to do the same. The other two men sat down and Desmond couldn't help but feel the pit drop in his stomach. He hated talking about this.

"Okay, well, this has been happening ever since I was in my teens, I guess..."

((*Author note: Hafeed is Arabic for 'grandson'. Nipote can mean either nephew or grandson in Italian.))

No problem. Do whatever length feels comfortable for you. :)

It's hard to find a Charles Lee filled prompt, so anon who is having a very bad flu-filled week, would like to see Charles Lee and...anyone! Hickey, Johnson, Connor, Haytham, Pitcairn, anyone will do.

Or hell. Even Charles with all his Templar bro's. Maybe an Orgy for an initiation. Or whatever. So please please, kink meme. Give me some Charles Love.

OP's oTP is Charles/Haytham.

Brb foaming at the mouth over this magnificence

But seriously this is glorious, I can't wait to see what you have in store. :D Thank you for filling it!

Writeranon is happy to serve in the name of the kink meme; she has a tendency to fill immediately if an idea strikes right. :p So yes, quick fill was quick. Now anon is off to fulfill her kinks.

Up up and away!

Forgot the translation in the previous fill! D:

"Il mio amico! Si prega di calmarmi!" = My friend, please calm down!
"E 'bene, Ezio. Tu sei a casa ora." = It's okay, Ezio. You are home now."
"Ancora non riesco a capire? Ti do un suggerimento - ho messo i tempi di lama molte." = Still haven't figured it out? I'll give you a hint - I crafted your blade many times.

-----

It seemed like he had barely breathed the word before his eyes were opening of their own, flinching at the light before it was blocked by a smiling face and a halo of golden hair, complete with crimson artist's cap. "Si, I am here Ezio. How do you feel?"

Ezio felt his heart stop and re-start in his chest, mouth opening but voice refusing to work. "...Y-you... can't be real."

Leonardo tilted his head, a look of confusion schooling his features. "And why ever not, my friend? To my knowledge I am as real as you or your father."

"My father is dead."

"Yes, and so I am. Just as you are now."

Ezio's eyes went wide. Dead? But when did--

Oh. OH, the vineyard! He remembered now. The light, the darkness, the memories... but that didn't explain how he could be... well, how he could exist!

"How am I still here, then? Is Death not supposed to be final? The end? No more?" he asked of the artist, who was pulling up a small stool in order to take a spot beside him.

"Oh, I would not say that. Death is not so final, it turns out. Those of us that require rest and peace take it here, while those that are ready to begin again head off for rebirth. Both your father and I begged your case for many weeks before they decided to allow you rest - they said a soul as strong as yours could be of great use in the world."

He chuckled suddenly, pressing fingers to his lips, unconsciously drawing Ezio's attention in the process. The assassin found his eyes lingering and a dry sort of heat coming up to grip his throat. Why was his mouth so dry? "Of course, once Petruccio stepped in and batted his eyes, there was little they could do. Your brother is very determined when he needs to be. I guess he got that from you, no?"

Ezio nodded, trying and failing to tear his eyes away from Leonardo's mouth. He needed to lay down, roll over and go back to sleep before the consequences of this visit got to him. He didn't need to scare Leonardo off with his debauchery, especially not now that he was here in... in... where was he again?

"Does this place have a name? Or am I simply to call it 'the end' while I am here?" He asked. Leonardo smiled.

"Those of us who linger merely call it Paradise friend, for there is nothing here to want that you cannot get. Perhaps best of all is that it looks just like our Venice on Earth! It is beautiful Ezio; I know you will come to enjoy it like I have." His features got dreamy all of a sudden, and Ezio felt a small pang of jealousy towards the place.

It was only then that he noticed Leonardo's features - to be more precise, how very young he looked. Frowning, Ezio rose, forcing himself upright for a better look. "Leonardo?"

"Hmm?" Snapped out of his daydreams, the artist looked to him.

"How are you so young? Your appearance reminds me of the first days I became an assassin, not the later years I was trying to strike the Borgia down."

Leonardo nodded. "I do not understand it fully myself, but the best I can explain it is this - here, we are given the appearance of youth while keeping the peak of our strength. For you, I imagine that means you look like a twenty-year man, but you have the strength of your older years. I do not know when you hit your physical peak."

"Thirty," Ezio answered effortlessly. Gingerly he closed his fist and moved his arm; the muscles responded with no pain whatsoever, the grip tight and unyielding while the muscles held firm. Truly it seemed he had his old strength. Of course it would be best if he could get outside and do a little running to test it...

Leonardo must have read the want in his eyes, because he chuckled. "Ah, you haven't changed at all, my friend. Come! Let us get you something to eat, so that you may dress yourself and soar through the skies of Venice once more, hmm? Your parents have been waiting for you, and your brothers, oh, how they've longed to hear you regale your adventures to them! Especially Petruccio - he asked me to thank you for the feathers, by the by."

"That sounds like an excellent plan, Leonardo. And maybe you can fill me in on how you've been since we parted ways. I imagine you have a number of stories to tell."

Leonardo smiled, pulling a bowl of warm broth from seemingly out of nowhere and handing to to the assassin. "But of course, Ezio. The only question is which you would like to hear first."

I do hope that this hasn't been abandoned or anything! Education is important :) Brilliant fic.

Oh no, oh no. Haytham, how could you! You bloody, manipulative bastard! Gah! It breaks my heart that Connor can never learn the truth :(

Inspiration, this picture: http://www.y-gallery.net/view/923393/ (NSFW, account needed to view)

(Image description: shirtless Connor and hatless Haytham, shown from chest up. They are kneeling in front of King Washington, who is sitting on his throne and is fully clothed, shown from waist up. King Washington is holding Connor's jaw, and it is heavily implied that Haytham has just finished performing fellatio on King Washington.)

So yeah. King Washington and his favourite instruments of pleasure. Please?

It truly felt magnificent to soar over the rooftops of Venice again; as Ezio had suspected, none of his muscles had deteriorated in the slightest, his strength easily allowing him access to any building, no matter how tall or complex. He climbed as high as he could, ran, jumped and eagle-dived for a while before he decided to take a breath. Now that his muscles were warm, he could start tracking down where he was, and pinpointing familiar landmarks.

And so just like he'd done in life, he climbed to the highest point in Venice and looked out with his Eagle Sense, smiling when the picture he got came back as he recalled it. His family's villa still stood, peaceful and quiet, as if it were a world unto itself. The sight of it filled him with a sense of homelessness he hadn't felt in a very long time. It also filled his mind with worries, doubts and fears he had held in since his father and brothers had died. Would his father be disgusted by the man Ezio had been? Would he be repulsed that his remaining child had gone crazy with revenge? And Federico and Petruccio, how would they react?

He had done so much good, but also so much evil in life... the idea of going back and facing his father was suddenly terrifying. But Ezio knew that if he didn't face them, he would never be able to forgive himself. So he took a deep breath, told himself that he would be fine, and leapt into the air, the scream of the eagle guiding him as he plummeted towards home.

---

Unfortunately, he was only able to get as close as the house across from his own before his feet came to a stop, muscles clamping down in fear despite themselves. Not wanting to attract attention despite the fact that he was on the rooftop, he crouched and tried to soothe the strange disquiet in his stomach and thoughts. It was almost as if the rooftop was his last hiding spot before he had to walk into a loaded room filled with angry guards and his most terrifying of foes. Except an angry Cesare had nothing on an angry Giovanni, who had a way to convey disappointment from miles away, especially when his sons were involved.

It was one of the reasons he and his brothers had tried so hard as children. Because none of them enjoyed seeing the disappointment on their father's face; it was worse than even the most terrible of their father's rages. And that was saying something, considering how terrifying Giovanni could be when he was angry. Ezio began to wring his hands against one another, a trait he had somehow gotten from Claudia when they'd still be alive. He needed to stop thinking about this and just go and knock on the door - or should he just go inside? It was his family after all, but it had been so long...

Ezio pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. He felt so confused! If this was an assassination or something of similar ilk, it would be a breeze, but no! It had to be the one thing he never thought about, never even considered.

He was so lost in his thoughts he didn't notice the white shadow appearing behind him, or hear the breathy chuckle. A hand reached out to lightly tap his shoulder.

Ezio shooed it away. "Not now, Leonardo. I am in no mood for comfort."

The specter grinned. "Oh? And what makes you think I am Leonardo, little fighter?"

Just as he had with Leonardo, Ezio's entire body went rigid with disbelief. That voice... he remembered it screaming, laughing, praising, disciplining. He remembered it urging him to fight, to come back from the abyss. Throat tight, he fought down the storm of emotions suddenly rising from within him. "H-hello f-father."

Giovanni peered at him from beneath the cowl of his cloak, brown eyes mischievous and warm despite the slight scowl on his face. "I do not see you in nearly a lifetime, and that is the welcome I get? Pray tell Ezio, were you planning on staring at our door all day in hopes of being spotted, or were you content to simply lurk in the shadows until we forgot about you?"

Ezio didn't answer, head ducking down and shoulders rising up in a clearly protective message. Giovanni sighed and reached out, frowning when Ezio flinched away from his touch. "Truly, has it been so long that you no longer welcome your family?"

"Being an assassin takes sacrifice, Giovanni. You of all men should know this," Ezio whispered, body trembling despite itself. "I made more sacrifices than most; I am not the boy you raised. Not anymore."

The elder nodded slowly, hands drawing back as he crouched beside his wayward son. "I can understand that. And I'm sure your brothers and mother will as well. Claudia has spoken highly of you and your Brotherhood. She tells us tales of a capable and just leader that protects his brothers like a mother wolf protects her cubs. I see now though, that the same wolf she described has a few secrets to hide." Despite himself, he reached out and brushed a strand of hair from Ezio's face, smiling sadly when Ezio did little more than flinch and stiffen. Truly, a high price had been paid. "Will you come inside and join us for dinner?"

Hands clenched in his lap. Ezio found himself wanting desperately to nod, to accept the offer and see his famiglia again. But he was torn; also wanting to protect his family from the darkness within him. Because unlike his father, he had never truly learned to tame it. It was always there, like his hidden blades, ready and willing to be used. Ezio longed to bury it, but did not know how. In the end, it came down to need versus want.

Ezio did not even have to think twice. He nodded slowly, cautiously. Giovanni smiled. "Relax yourself, Ezio. I will not let what happened before happen again. Stay your blade tonight, and let your hunger rest."

The two leapt off the roof with ease, landing before the house. Giovanni opened the door. Ezio took a deep breath. He would cast off his cloak here, but not without one last warning. "You will understand if I choose to be skeptical. I will hold my blade, but do not expect me to leave them far; if someone unsavory should step forward, know that I have my rights."

One last nod. Then Maria rounded the corner and looked up, the basket in her hands dropping away as Ezio stepped forward, tipping his head back to remove his hood. Maria made a half-choked noise, and suddenly Federico and Petruccio were thundering down the stairs with Claudia on their heels. The shock in their gazes was familiar, almost comforting. They reminded him of his novices whenever he came back from a do-or-die mission.

He smiled. "You know, if your jaws hang any wider, you could catch sparrows in them."

That broke the ice; suddenly he had an armful of siblings while his mother clutched him to her bosom, apologizing and kissing him, tears of happiness streaming down her face. Giovanni hung back, shoulders dropping as the tension finally let itself go.

His son was back. Finally, truly back.

"It is not for nothing!" Connor snarled, looking furious. "Would you rather we sat back and ignored the crisis, allowed more innocent children to die? Progress is slow, but it is being made. Why else would you have stuck around for so long? Except from the obvious, that is."

Haytham was slightly taken aback by this- he was not used to being spoken back to in such a aggressive manner, least of all by men he hardly knew.

"The obvious?" Haytham asked. There was absolutely nothing obvious about any part of this nightmare.

Connor glanced at Charles, who immediately spoke up.

"Connor. Your duties as Grand Master. That sort of thing."

Charles had that expression on his face. The one that meant he was not telling the whole truth. However, before Haytham could demand an explanation, the kitchen door opened and several men stepped entered the room.

"Are you finished yet?" one of them asked, this one perhaps forty, with a strong French accent.

"More or less," Connor said. "Everything has been explained as well as it can in the absence of any real evidence."

"Good," an old man croaked, and it was with some discomfort that Haytham realised that this old man was Achilles Davenport, and that the two decades since the raid on the Assassin Headquarters had not been kind to him.

Charles cleared his throat and started speaking again.

"Er, Haytham, the gentleman to your left is Stephane Chapeau, a chef from the province of Quebec. The young man beside him is Clipper Wilkinson, a sharpshooter from Boston, and the priest is Duncan Little, from Ireland. You've met before. And of course, you know Achilles Davenport already."

Haytham nodded, concentrating on the table before him. Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at the assassins with his second sight- they were a slightly deeper red than Connor, but he supposed that was only to be expected.

"I don't recall ever having met a priest from Ireland before," Haytham said.

"We met in an opera house," Duncan said. "I was ten. You killed my uncle. It wasn't a very good first impression."

"Oh," Haytham murmured. Time to change the subject before matters could deteriorate further. "Connor said you saw the-- what are we calling it?"

"The Slender Man," Connor said.

"That I did. It was through a window during a stormy afternoon. The kind where you'd drown for opening the front door. I was holed up in a small room, crossbow at the ready, and the kid was just standing in the middle of the courtyard. At first, nothing happened, but after a moment I could see something where the water streamed down over the glass. I opened the window, quiet as could be, but the thing couldn't be seen any more. So, I half-closed the window, and watched some more."

Duncan took a deep breath and continued, sounding tired.

"It was tall, but even through the water I couldn't make it out properly. It was as though it was just an inch or so in a different direction than where I was looking. Anyway, the babe started laughing, reaching out to this thing, and it reached out for it to. Trying to concentrate on it made my head and eyes hurt. The child laughed harder, and the thing did something I couldn't make out, and these wounds started opening up on the child's body, but it kept laughing. I opened the window again, ready to shoot the thing full of arrows, but I couldn't see it any more. Well, thinking back there was a real faint shadow through the raindrops, but nothing I could aim at."

Duncan shuddered, and paused again. If he was telling the truth, it must have been a very traumatic affair.

"The child's laughter started warping. It echoed and after a minute it didn't sound like a child any more. It got louder somehow, closer, even, and I got a sharp pain in my ears. I was so terrified, I dropped the crossbow and covered my ears, and the pain in my head got so bad I couldn't do anything but curl up in a ball. It seemed like forever, but when the pain and the noise went away, I peered out the window, and there was nothing but a dead, bloody little body in the middle of the mud. It was still smiling."

Haytham shut his eyes, and thought hard. This was surely impossible? Invisible monsters did not exist. But on the other hand, it was obvious that the man truly believed that this was what had happened, and surely neither the Assassins nor his Templar comrades would believe something so far-fetched for no reason.

"Well?" Connor asked, after a few moments. "Do you believe us?"

"I don't disbelieve you," Haytham said, with gritted teeth. "I need to find my journal."

"That might not be such a good idea," Charles said, quickly. Haytham glanced up. What on earth was Charles blathering about now?

"What do you mean?"

"Er," Charles said, clearly nervous.

"Did something happen?" Haytham pressed. Charles looked uncomfortable. "Then surely it's imperative that I can read back through my version of events, isn't it? Get up to date on… this mess. How on earth could that be a bad idea?"

"You might not like what you read, sir," Charles said, quietly.

"Oh, as if I've liked anything I've heard today? Give it a rest, Charles." Haytham snapped. He stood, and glanced at the Assassins. "Pleasure to meet you fellows."

Then he left, to search the room he'd woken up in. He could hear muttering and the low babble of a discussion behind him, but he didn't care. They were idiots. Why should he care about what thought of him?

It took a mere five minutes to find the journal he'd been using in London, and a new one, bound in new brown leather. The new book was sitting on the table, next to the tea tray, and the old journal was resting in a chest at the end of what Haytham assumed was his bed. He'd woken up on it, after all.

He flipped his old journal open. He'd started it barrel month before his last memory, and he found the last entry he remembered writing with ease.

November 27th, 1771

I don't know what to do. After everything that's happened, the Order needs to be re-established in this country, but there is nothing else here for me, save a sister who resents my very existence. I miss the Colonies, but they remind me far too much of what I have lost.

The next entry was almost two months later.

January 3rd, 1772

Have looked for individuals who might further the Order's cause here, but Birch's betrayal runs deep. I am beginning to think that the corruption is too far gone, that I should leave my homeland and return to Boston. I still own that nice plot of land in Virginia, don't I?

January 4th, 1772

I was in a foul mood yesterday. All I seem to get is bad news. Still, perhaps not all is lost.

January 11th, 1772

I wonder what happened to the Piece of Eden stolen from the Crown Jewels all those months ago? There have been no reports of trouble. I expect it's in the hands of the Assassins. Idiots. At least they're not causing trouble with it, though it's only a matter of time.

February 1st, 1772

The newly-recruited Templars are almost ready to start toppling the Assassin order in this country. I wish Reginald hadn't buggered us over so thoroughly out of greed. Things would be so much easier if the British Inner Circle were still alive and well.

Ah, so there was a small British Order again. That was better than the Assassins running around, cocking things up with no opposition, like they clearly had been in the Colonies. Perhaps he could request some help from them with this Slender Man problem? Oh, but surely he had thought of that already... He would need to ask one of his allies- not Charles, he was clearly hiding something. Johnson and the others were still alive, weren't they?

So caught up in his thoughts was Haytham, he almost didn't notice Achilles entering the room.

We totally know that Haytham would never approve of poor George. Lol!

Or Ziio either for that matter, especially given the village burning matter. :)

Thank you! //blush//

I really wanted to contrast the two doctors in their methods, but wasn't sure I made the contrast all that great. I'm glad it worked. :)

But yes, I couldn't help myself with the turkey assassin, not after you wrote that wonderful little bit of crack. :D Poor Templar grunt though...to be reprimanded and demoted because he only told the truth...

The public will have difficulty accessing Charles (think massive throngs of people and all). But during the mingle with the representatives afterwards, there might be a couple of comments. :)

Man...I really hope this gets filled someday...This place needs moar crossover prompts, especially (at least) one with PMMM.

Writer!anon here.

OP, there is absolutely no need to apologize! ♥ I hope that this chapter managed to be something of a break for you between your work! Besides, it's not like I'm all that fast either...

And you know, about the Charles bit--I originally didn't intend to make him the antagonist, but as I wrote more (and solidified the plot more as well), that's how it turned out. |D I do love hating on Charles though. (Unless it's fanboy!Charles, in which case I'm right alongside him getting excited about Haytham.)

Anyway! Thank you all, as always, for your lovely comments and for following! As a random side note, I seriously feel like getting told that one's characterization is spot on is one of the best compliments a fanfic writer can get. :3 And that you guys like my writing style? Icing on the cake. ♥ So yes! Thank you so much! You all never cease to make my day!

Also, I felt like I needed to comment here just to say that I'm running late on this update. (Guess who spent what little free time I have playing a certain DLC about a president turned monarch. /coughs) I'll try to get it up as soon as I can. Again, sorry! e_e

You may me feel for Charles Lee.

o.o

Oh, Haytham...so unintentionally cruel. But that description was chilling, the way the child kept laughing more and more as he died...the smile on his face as he lay in the mud.

//shivers//

And now imagining Connor in that condition...

It's good to see Achilles again! I wonder their first interaction will go... //brings popcorn//

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 191 of 385

Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt. 5

Master of the House - part 22

Re: Master of the House - part 21

Re: Second Fill Side Story - Shattered Glass 3a/? (WashCon) -

Re: Second Fill Side Story - Shattered Glass 3a/? (WashCon) -

Re: Master of the House - part 22

OP Here!

OP

Homecoming (1/1)

Re: Connor/Clipper: Freedom (3/?)

Re: Prometheus Unbound 2/?

Re: Prometheus Unbound 1/?

Dear Kink Meme, where is all the Charles Lee love?

OP here

Re: writeranon is happy to serve

FILL: Our Paradise 3/?

Re: Fill: Body Swap Part 5/?

Re: FILL Epilogue (last part of actual ending)

Connor & Haytham, pleasuring the King

FILL: Our Paradise 4/?

he lives in the woods 4/?

Re: Second Fill Side Story - Shattered Glass 3a/? (WashCon) -

Re: Master of the House - part 22

Re: Puella Magi Madoka Magica/Assassin's Creed

Re: A wild OP appears!

OP