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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(Livejorunal) Archive
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Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
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O_O Here I thought Connor was going to have a caesarean...

Anon wanted Connor awake and not completely doped up on drugs for the surgery so...

Readers can decide if they want to imagine temporary vaginal opening for the birth or anus baby. ^^

Also, think the first modern caesarean was in 1881...and the non-modern ones had a really high mortality rate. Didn't think Doctor White would want to risk it...

Ah... well it's the Omegaverse after all. Nothing is true, everything is permitted!

:p

I'll miss the lightning fast updates, but I can't wait to read Haytham Lee's story. Yusuf wants to know if he'll be in it... of if Charles decided to ship him back to the Homestead after scaring off his poms

Methinks the poms will like Yusuf. :) And will prove to be one really long-lived bird indeed.

//nodnod//

Oh yeah, and the first installment of Haytham Lee's story will be in roughly a week or so.

Update structure will be either drabble format or journal format. Not quite sure about the update schedule, but will settle on something once I get started and have a better idea of the pacing.

"No..."

This was a joke.

"No, no fuckin way..."

This had to be a joke. A very bad joke. A nightmare.

"T-this can't... t-t-them m-machine... it's gotta be wrong!"

He'd wake up any second now, he was sure of it. Any second now. Maybe if he closed his eyes, counted backwards from ten and pinched himself really REALLY hard, he'd wake up.

TennineeightsevensixfivefourthreetwoonePINCH

"OW!"

Desmond opened his eyes and stared at the paper in his hands. The results were still the same - he wasn't dreaming. A sort of helpless, almost unstable-sounding laugh bubbled up in his throat, although it only came out as a cringing whimper. Desmond Miles did not whimper. Desmond Miles was stronger than that.

Desmond Miles was an Omega.

Can you say 'fuck my life'?

----

It started when he finished Ezio's memories and went to Connor's. At the time, he'd been having some rather wierd dreams, dreams that made no sense to him, dreams where he was Altair or Ezio and he was either fucking Leonardo da Vinci or being fucked by Malik Al-Sayf. Both sets of dreams disturbed him, but not for the reasons most would assume. What was disturbing was whenever he woke up, he felt hot. Needy. And no matter how much he masturbated, the ache never went away. It only got worse.

The feelings came three times a month, usually from anywhere between two and nine days at a time. During that time, Desmond ran a high fever, had an ache between his thighs that felt out of place and developed some rather kinky dreams. Most of them were of Altair and Ezio, but occasionally ones snuck in that weren't of any of those.

They were of Shaun.

Shaun, who spoke Sarcasm and Snark practically twenty-four seven, and gave him hell about everything he had done, would do or was planning in the near future. It was ridiculous. And yet every time Desmond woke from the dreams, his cock harder than he'd ever felt in his life, it was Shaun's face he imagined as he stroked himself to completion before passing out. He didn't know why it had to be Shaun - why not Lucy or Rebecca? He'd tried imagining both of their faces and gotten nothing out of it. Not a twitch of interest. Yet Shaun's face popped up and suddenly Desmond wanted to rape the man into the ground.

It was why Desmond secured the test. Nobody really used it anymore, seeing as Alphas and Omegas no longer existed in real life, but Desmond had stolen one regardless and used it. And an hour after inserting his blood into the tiny machine and setting it aside, the machine had come up with the results.

Desmond was an Omega. Suddenly, everything made sense. The dreams and fever were the results of his first heat coming into play, and the strange ache between his legs was his body requesting a child - Omegas were made to bear the children. It was the most fucked up thing Desmond had ever known. He intended to keep it secret. Possibly forever, or at least until he died. This could never go past him. If it did... if Shaun or Lucy or god forbid Rebecca ever found out...

So Desmond burned the paper the results were printed out on and locked the machine away beneath his bed. No one would ever know. He went to bed dreaming of a world where he had an Alpha, and was loved. He woke up the next morning to three things.

The first was a raging hard on. No surprise there.

The second was the ache between his legs, nagging incessantly. Again, no surprise.

The third was Lucy, standing in the doorway with the machine in one hand, and a copy of the printed results in the other.

The first thing out of her mouth? "Desmond, what is this?"

That was when Desmond Miles realized that he was well and truly fucked.

Oh, poor Des...Dammit Lucy, stop snooping.

Oooh, are Altair's and Ezio's orientation a nod to the other prompts? (I know one classed Ezio as Alpha, and I'm fairly certain there was an Omega Altair prompt.) :D

I can't remember, can male Betas impregnate male Omegas? I remember seeing a chart somewhere, but I can't find it. (And because the idea of Shaun knocking up Desmond, even if it's a tiny chance, is both amusing and tooth-achingly sweet to me. ~~ITTY BITTY MINI SHAUNDES W/ REDDISH HAIR AND SARCASTIC SNARK!~~ :D)

"Come on Desmond, talk to me."

They were in the kitchen/Animus area. Rebecca and Shaun were sitting at their desks, watching the events before them unfold - one with a wondrous expression, the other with a glint of curiosity. Neither boded well for Desmond - especially that curiosity. Desmond sat at the small breakfast table, eating toast with jam and orange juice, while Lucy sat across from him, trying to get him to talk about what they'd discovered.

"Fuck off Lucy, its not happening. Just drop it, okay?"

"I can't do that, Desmond. You know that." She ignored the audible growl Desmond sent her way through his toast and leaned forward, lowering her voice. Rebecca and Shaun leaned in as well, hoping to hear what was being said. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, you know. I mean, its not like you could control it or anything - its your ancestor's genes reacting inside of you. I'm sure if we go down to the pharmacy, they'll have something to stop it--"

Desmond slammed his hands on the table, startling everyone. "No, they won't Lucy. Do you want to know why? Let's think for a minute, shall we? About two hundred years ago, Betas began mating with Alphas and Omegas, and watered the lines down. And now, two hundred years later, EVERYONE'S A GODDAMNED BETA!" The last line came out explosively, shocking Lucy out of her chair and back. Desmond felt satisfaction at that; how dare she act like there was nothing wrong with him? He was a goddamned Omega in a world filled with Betas!

"Desmond, i-if you just calm down, I'm sure--"

"Calm down? You want me to calm down, Lucy? Then fine! Find me a damn Alpha! Then maybe I'll calm down!"

Lucy bit her lip. "You know I--"

"What, can't do it? Oh, big surprise there!" He threw his hands up and stalked off, slamming the door to his bedroom shut behind him. Rebecca whistled low.

"Wow, that temper's really something when it kicks in." Then she turned to look at Lucy. "So, what are we going to do about 'mega in there?"

Lucy sat back down in her chair. "I don't know. He's right; the Beta lines have watered the other two down so badly, there's no possible way to find an Alpha. And even if we did find one, we'd have to put Desmond outside the barriers to meet him to avoid compromising our spot, and that would put him in danger." She sighed, raking her hands through her hair. "This is so unbelievably--"

"Amazing." Shaun's voice overrode hers. She looked up.

"What?"

"It's so unbelievably amazing. To think, that with that power in him, he would end up an Omega. I would have guessed him more to be the Alpha type." Shaun seemed pleased about the entire issue, if the smile on his face was anything to go by. Rebecca snorted.

"You're just saying that because you've got a crush on Dezzy-poo."

"You do?" Lucy's eyes went wide. Before Shaun could answer, Rebecca interrupted.

"How have you NOT noticed it, Lucy? I mean, seriously, this guy's man-crush could be seen from space! I'm honestly surprised Desmond hasn't figured it out yet."

"I do NOT have a crush on that bloody git!" Shaun hissed, shooting up out of his chair, a fine layer of pink across his cheeks. "He's just... interesting to me, that's all."

Rebecca snorted again. "Yeah, sure. Whatever you say, slick."

"Enough," Lucy waved the argument aside tiredly. She had an idea about what to do with Desmond, and she wasn't going to sit and wait for Desmond to okay it. "From now on, Shaun, you're in charge of Desmond."

"Maybe you're just--wait, what? I'm what?"

"You're in charge of Desmond. If he goes into heat, its your job to do something about it."

"I...what?" For the first time in a while, the historian seemed genuinely shocked. He came out from behind his desk. "Do you not recall that he and I are barely on speaking terms as is? And you expect me to go in there when he's horny and irritated and... and..."

"Fuck him. Yeah, that's the general idea," Rebecca told him smugly. He whirled to glare at her and she ducked down behind her monitor, eyes laughing at him.

"Shaun, I don't have time to worry about details. We need to get Desmond back on his feet as soon as possible, and if that means pitching you two against one another, then that's a hardship you'll have to endure." Lucy said sternly.

She expected another rebellion, but Shaun just laughed softly and started towards Desmond's room. "No hardship Lucy. No hardship at all."

Then he was gone, and Rebecca looked at Lucy. "So, any bets on how loud they're going to be?"

Lucy groaned.

It was on page 29, under omega!Haytham/Alpha!Connor. :) The chart says that male Betas can MAYBE impregnate male Omegas. So there's no super high chance, but its there. Of course, in order to impregnate Desmond, Shaun is going to have to get him undressed. Which, as you will find out in later chapters, is much harder than it seems.

There was an Omega Altair prompt, back in one of the earlier parts. Part two, I think it was. And yes, those were nods to the other prompts.

Aw, crap. Now I'm hungry for effing chocolate chip cookies. Being a fanfiction write I WOULD totally fill this for you, but sadly all of my time is taken up by my other projects.

Desmond lay curled up in a fetal position on his bed, trying to calm down. He had never felt so terrified before in his life; it hadn't even been this bad when he'd been kidnapped by Abstergo, or threatened with death. Somehow, the knowledge that his secret, short as it had been, was out in the open spooked him worse than any past experience. He felt violated, endangered by the revelation. He didn't know why he felt that way, but if Altair had taught him anything, it was that you trusted your instincts when they told you something.

His instincts were screaming that he was in danger. So he would avoid the other three for as long as possible, or until he could come up with a plan. Something, anything. He needed to get away from the danger.

The door to his room slid open, revealing Shaun leaning against the frame with an oddly smug expression on his face. At the sight of the historian, Desmond felt his entire body tighten with both fear and want. His body was telling him that here was a male Beta that he could fuck, while his instincts were telling him here was the threat that was causing him so much unease. Shaun was a danger to him: he had to avoid Shaun.

"Having a bit of problem there, Dessy? Want Shaun to kiss it all better?" The slightly mocking tone was accompanied by a grin that felt far too lecherous for Desmond's liking. A shudder of disgust shivered up his spine; the idea of Shaun even touching him sent his heart into overdrive.

"Go away, Shaun," Desmond said, very quietly. Shaun snorted, kicking the door shut behind him. Desmond jerked. "Don't close the door!"

Shaun raised an eyebrow. "Didn't know you were the voyeurism type, mate."

"Don't call me that!" Desmond snarled, rolling over until his feet hit the floor and standing upright, posture defensive. "Open the door Shaun, please."

Shaun rolled his eyes. "Desmond, seriously, its fine. Just calm down and let's get this over wi--!" While he'd been talking he'd walked forward, hand stretching out towards Desmond. In the next instant he found himself slamming into the opposite wall, tasting blood as he bit his tongue.

Desmond had reacted to the proximity of danger; he'd kangaroo-kicked Shaun as far away as possible. Now he was running past Shaun, flinging the door open and disappearing down the hall, all before Shaun could get up.

"Desmond! D-des.. goddamn it!" He flopped over onto his stomach, grunting at the pain, and hauled himself up, running after the assassin. "Desmond, would you stop acting like a child and come out already? This isn't a game!"

If only he knew the half of it.

Shaun searched high and low, but couldn't find the assassin anywhere. No matter how hard he called, what he threatened, Desmond did not come out of hiding. He didn't understand it - Omegas were said to be utterly submissive, without resistance when it came to their heat. So why had Desmond lashed out? Was his heat already over? He eventually gave up, going back to report to Lucy that her idea was a complete and utter failure.

If Shaun had bothered to check the cabinets in the kitchen, he would have found one slightly ajar, and inside it one trembling mess of assassin, hands pressed over his mouth and nose to stifle his breathing, tears running down his face.

Lol, sorry about that! XD I didn't think I'd make anyone hungry with my prompt. Aw, that's okay. :) You're always welcome to come back later if this still needs a fill!

fill anon here just letting you know that i am working on a fill! i would have had it up yesterday but somehow i ended up spending two hours researching various houses the historical charles lee lived in...

Oh...oh, ow. Now I feel bad. I'm sorry, Des. I wasn't thinking about how terrifying this would be for poor Desmond.

And Shaun is being all sorts of creepy and smarmy. And taking it for granted that Des would be all hormonal and just roll over and let him do whatever he wanted. (But my love of angst and whump makes me really love the possibilities, gdi.)

OP here and thank you so much for this fill. Short but sweet and I am very curious about what would come next. Ezio, get your man!

OP here and I appreciate the well wishes. I am feeling better and this brightened up my crappy crappy weekend. Thank you. Now, this fic is so steamy I need to cool myself off...

Yeah, Shaun's read too much fetish porn concerning Omegas to know what they actually need. :/ Lucy's gonna make him stop that.

Haha, I know that feeling. XD

So I was going through the last few pages and have seen a lot of prompts for Connor blowing other people *cough*haytham*cough* and thought to myself maybe it's time Connor gets something, I mean what goes around comes around, right?

So! I would like to see Connor getting a blow job from Haytham, because hey, he has to get something for doing all the dirty work for him.

Bonus points:

+50 ~ Haytham is backed into a corner and doesn't have a whole lot of options other than to bend to Connor's will.
+100 ~ Connor points out that he should get something in exchange for everything he's done for Haytham.
+150 ~ Connor throws all caution to the wind and just takes what he wants. (if you know what i mean)
+200 ~ Haytham gets turned on by sucking his son off and is a little mad at himself.

It's all up to the writer anon, the bonus's are just suggestions, feel free to take it in any direction you see fit!

~ B

A/N: I'm going to finish the Honeymoon series, I promise. But the WashCon refused to let go. Once again, writing this after I'm dead tired from work, so mistakes are plentiful.

Shattered Glass
(The Glass Cage)

The groom, dressed in his black with gold trim military jacket and cape, white breeches tucked into polished black boots, stands waiting at the altar. Content and composed as can be. At least for the sake of appearances. His mask remains flawless, able to hid his inner turmoil quite easily. Today was supposed to be the happiest day of his George Washington's life, and yet he is plagued by guilt and shame that continues to devour him.

The Commander tries to tell himself that he should not feel any of these emotions so intensely. It was war. Killing is a necessary evil, and the loss of lives cannot be helped. As one who deals with death on a day to day basis, Connor would at least understand. Besides, it wasn't as if the Wolf's hands were actually clean!

George is suddenly overcome with shame. He severely doubted his bride-to-be's hands were stained with the blood of civilians. No, Connor would not kill an innocent; it went against his Assassin's Creed.

Damnation! He needs to set this right. He needs to stop the ceremony. He needs to tell his wife-to-be, just who was responsible for the loss of his home and family. Perhaps Connor might even understand and forgive him...

Washington's mask nearly slips as he scoffs silently at himself.

Connor would never forgive him. The Wolf would never stand beside him again. Probably even kill him right here and now, in front of all these people, if he knew. Perhaps Washington even deserves it.

However, all thoughts are stricken from his mind, as he gazes over to the entrance of the church where his bride was now standing. Washington's eyebrows lift in surprise upon recognizing the white robes his Wolf often wear. However, as Connor and Achilles walked side by side down the aisle, the groom realized he had mistaken.

These robes were much longer and the tails nearly dragged across the ground. George is not sure how it is possible but the fabric has been dyed is a brilliant white, the same shade as snow. The beaked hood - with its eagle motif stitched in front - almost obscure half of Connor's face. In stark contrast to the white he wear a dark red sash bearing the Assassin insignia, red and white Native armbands, black breeches and boots.

George was relieved to see the lack of weapons that the dual-wielding Assassin always seemed to have on his person. Connor had hesitantly followed his request in sake of the Alpha's traditions, and left behind those trademark hidden blades. At least for today. He wanted Connor to be his bride and only that.

When they finally stand side by side, Washington appreciates how the black and white colors of their wedding attire unites them. Two leaders: Commander-in-Chief and Mentor Assassin. Alpha and Omega. Husband and Wife. They belonged together.

Amber-brown eyes glance over at him from beneath the hood, and the boy's small but content-filled smile chases away all doubt that hat plagued him ever since his revelation down in the manor's basement level. The guilt remains, but it is overshadowed by desire to bind this Omega to him. Once they're married, and they have accomplished their goals; he will explain himself. He will gladly accept all of Connor's anger, his contempt, and even his tears. He would find a way to somehow make it up to his wife, after all they had their whole lives together ahead of them.

"Dearly beloved," Father Timothy began. "We are gathered here today to witness the union of George Washington and Connor Kenway in holy matrimony. This is a sacred right. An ancient right. As this Alpha and Omega prepare to join their lives, it is important to understand that everyone present has played a part in shaping their lives and will continue to play a vital role in their continuing future. Thus, we are here not only to witness their vows to each other, but to bestow upon them our blessing. If any one can show just cause why they may not be lawfully joined together, let them speak now or forever hold their peace."

The silence is heavy, and comforting. Washington smiles to himself. Neither he, nor anyone else, notice the Templars slipping in through the open doors.

Malik and Altair are always open to new things if said new things is a novice, all the better

kinks
double penetration
light bondage

i don't like
non-con
bathroom stuff
and blood-play

I need this in my life. Need it like air and caffeine. Someone fill, pretty please?

Anon from above here. Not quite following your prompt, OP. Hope you don't mind.

~:~:~:~:~:~

He thought it a side effect of the Tripto. Or maybe he was just staying in too long.

(Wouldn't be the first time I started seeing things because of this fucking machine.)

The blond man to Norman's right wasn't paying much attention to him, humming tunelessly to himself as he leaned over the bar to look at the alcohol. They were the only ones in the room, though he'd given his “order” to the waiter and that AI should've been behind said bar going through the motions of mixing said fake drink.

Norman continued to run his fingers lightly over the keys of the piano, watching the man finally pick up a bottle of what appeared to be wine. The agent raised an eyebrow; by what he could see of him, Norman would've bet the strange AI to be programmed to select something along the harder liquors. The blond frowned at the bottle, generous mouth pulling down like the it had somehow offended him.

(Why'd you pick it up in the first place--)

The thought trailed off to shock - the bottle in the AI's hands flickered, bits seeming to flake off it in shiny fragments as it changed shape. Norman's jaw dropped, reaching his gloveless hand up to rub at his eyes under the glasses, worried that his dismissed thought of being in too long was behind the glitching.

(No blood...so--)

The AI himself flickered the next second, this time the fragments accompanied by what appeared to be code and odd swirling patterns. Norman saw a very different shape take the man's place; something tall, white, and had a splash of red about his (his?) waist. The agent jerked up and back, knocking the bench over as he put some room between himself and the glitching AI.

The sharp bang of the toppled bench startled the AI. The figure whirled, dropping the bottle and crouching low. As the glass shattered on the floor, Norman could now see that the white shape was in fact a robe of some sort, complete with low hood that practically covered the AI's face, and -

(Fucking shit! Is that a sword?)

The AI lunged, leaping over the plush chairs between them. Norman barely had time to think, to reach for a gun that he didn't have (because he took it off while in the office and never fucking needed one while in the ARI), and then the freaky AI was tackling him. The force of it knocked Norman over the toppled bench, and his head cracked against both floor and part of the wall. Amazingly, the ARI hadn't been knocked off.

Dazed, Norman attempted to blink away the white flooding his vision, feeling a hand press threateningly on his throat while another fisted in his shirt. He briefly saw underneath that white hood - of glaring gold eyes, a scarred lip, and dark heavy stubble. Then the AI fragmented again, more like static this time, before the shape seemed to snap back into the form of the original blond.

Now, now Norman struggled. As he tugged viciously at the hand cutting off his air, his other arm pulled back and swung at the AI's head. His fist connected with a sharp pain, but the AI just seemed to shrug the blow off. Norman struggled further, felt more than heard the AI curse as he bucked underneath the heavy weight. The agent was rewarded with his own blow to the head, and more stars sparked across his vision.

Gasping and desperate for air, somehow Norman was able to shift a leg to knee the AI in the gut, twisting as he did so. This rolled the AI into the bench, the blond grunting from the impact and loosened his grip. Norman curled in and shoved out with his legs, catching the blond in the gut and shoving him further away. Gasping for air as he scrambled to his feet, Norman sidled along the wall, carefully putting more distance between them.

But the AI was still on the floor, arms curled around his stomach as he gasped himself. Norman stared down at the man as he dropped into a defensive crouch. Better to be ready if he was attacked...again--?

(He – he fucking—the fucking AI---it--he attacked me! How the fuck--?)

“What the fuck is goin' on?”

They were crouched on the rooftop behind the chimney, hands covering their mouths as they listened to their father's footsteps just below them. They could tell just by the quick, short stride he took he was very, very upset, and both boys knew that when their father was that upset with anything they did, it usually resulted in a beating.

And so they were playing the hiding game. Both boys knew their father could climb roofs easily, which was why they had chosen a shadowed little corner, and were covering their mouths, trying to disappear in plain sight like they'd been taught. It had been Federico's idea, to play in their father's study despite having been told not to; Ezio had accidentally knocked the ink pot over on some important documents Lord Lorenzo had given to him. The two had tried to clean it up, but only made a bigger mess. By the time they'd given up, their father had been home and climbing the stairs. They had barely scrambled out the window before they'd heard his yell of rage cut through the evening air.

They hadn't bothered waiting around to answer his calls; they had run as far and as fast as possible and scampered around the corner and up the closest rooftop, covering their mouths. Mere seconds later, their father had rounded the corner, lips drawn back in a snarl as he called sharply for his two sons to show themselves. The tone in the man's voice scared both boys; they had only heard their father use it once, on a vendor that had sworn Ezio had stolen from him. Ezio hadn't, but the vendor had sworn up and down he had. Giovanni had used that tone and the vendor had stopped arguing and let it go. But the whiteness of the man's face and the fearful look in his eyes when their father took the tone stayed with them and kept them from going down and receiving their punishment.

It was almost night now, and both boys knew that meant the windows and doors would soon be locked; if they didn't head inside now, they would be locked out for the night. But their father still hadn't returned - they could no longer hear his voice. He hadn't gone inside - they would have heard him pass by. Which meant that one, he already knew where they were and was waiting for them to come down, or two, he was farther away than they thought.

Federico jerked his head towards the house and held up three fingers. Ezio nodded, and watched as the fingers counted down. When it hit one both boys jumped down and sprinted towards the house as fast as their little feet could carry them, praying that they would make it before Giovanni--

A pair of hands suddenly snagged the backs of their tunics, lifting them up off the ground. Both boys yelped in surprise and shock, all too aware who had snagged them. Giovanni stepped out from beneath the eves he'd been hiding under, looked rather displeased. "Going somewhere, boys?"

"Um..." Ezio supplied.

"Uh..." Federico gave.

Giovanni didn't wait for a coherent answer, instead tossing Ezio under one arm and dragging Federico along with the other. The boy opened the door when his father told him to, and dutifully marched inside, aware that for all the schemes they dreamed up, nothing could save them now. Not even Mama would be on their side.

Their father said nothing as they entered the study. The mess had been cleaned up, but Ezio still winced as he looked at the desk. Federico worried his lower lip when their father closed and locked the door behind them, and moved around to his desk to sit down. He folded his hands and looked at them sternly.

"Tell me what you were doing in my study."

Ezio tried not to wilt in his place. Why couldn't the ground just swallow them up? "Um... w-we were... uh, looking for something?"

Giovanni didn't raise a brow. "Are you asking me or telling me?"

The boy's shoulders drooped. He'd given up. Giovanni's gaze went to Federico. The boy could already tell by his father's gaze that he would tolerate no more lies tonight. "We were playing," the boy confessed, wincing when he saw the steel in his father's eyes.

"Despite the fact that I told you not to?" The man softly asked both boys. They nodded, looking immensely uncomfortable. Ezio was taking tiny steps backwards in a futile hope his father wouldn't notice. With a single crook of his finger he ordered Ezio back into place and bent to a drawer on the lower part of the desk. Out of it he pulled a leather strap. Both boys ducked down upon seeing it. "Do you understand now why I told you not to play in here? Because of your antics, I have to report back and inform il Magnifico that I am unable to give him the paperwork he required. Paperwork that was very important, might I add?"

His children were shuffling in place now, clearly guilt-ridden. In a small voice, Ezio said, "We did try to clean it up... but the ink wouldn't come out."

Giovanni felt a small pang of regret. He hated punishing his children, but sometimes it was necessary - even when they tried to do the right thing and correct the mistake. "Some things are not so easily fixed with a wet rag and soap, my child. Sometimes it takes giving up a bit of pride to make things right. And since you have both cost me five days work, you will lose a piece of pride. Five swats for each of you for coming into my study and playing when I told you not to, and five more for running and hiding, and then trying to circle back when I was not looking instead of answering me."

The duo sighed. Ten swats was harsh, but at the same time they'd really hurt their father's work. "Who goes first?"

"Who suggested the idea?"

Federico winced and moved past his father, leaning his arms on the table and offering up his backside. His father never had them pull down their pants - too much pain was not a good idea. Plus, leather across a clear backside often left welts, no matter how gentle the touch. Giovanni could do many things, but he could never hurt his sons.

"You will count." Federico nodded, biting his lower lip. As his father began, he told himself that he wouldn't cry, because men didn't cry.

He hoped Ezio would do the same.

-------

Later, after being scolded by their mother and sent off to bed with no supper, both boys collapsed on their beds on their stomachs, Ezio reaching back to touch his still-smarting backside. The pain would be gone by tomorrow morning, but they were both still spooked by the experience. Especially Ezio, who had never had the strap across his backside before.

"You okay baby brother?" Federico asked from across the room. Ezio made a mumbled reply, burying his face in his pillows. He felt small and scared and was sure that his father was still mad on some level. Did Giovanni hate them now?

A warm body touched his, and Ezio scooted over automatically to make room for his brother. "He'll be okay in the morning, Ezio. He always needs a night to cool off. Same with our backsides, yeah?" They laughed a little at that, leaning their heads together as they both tried to get to sleep. Federico knew Mama didn't approve of them sleeping together any more - they were big boys with their own beds - but hopefully she would understand if he did it just for tonight, for Ezio's sake.

"Let this be a lesson: don't do stupid stuff in the future," he mumbled before yawning. Ezio was already asleep, and it wasn't long before Federico followed.

Not long after the two fell asleep, a shadow appeared on the balcony outside their room and carefully unlocked the window, opening it just enough for him to slip inside. Dressed in his assassin's garb, Giovanni paused by his sons and sighed, smiling down at the two. "You two will be the death of me someday, I swear it. But you are my sons, and I will always love you, no matter what." He kissed them both on the head before pulling back, grabbing the extra blanket on Federico's bed and tossing it over the brothers, then disappearing back out the window and across the rooftops.

YAY! I forgot to say that I did enjoy this ending, especially with Connor finally being happy. I also wonder what King Charles' subjects make of their 'Queen' (I'm never gong to stop giggling over this) whom I'm sure was well known both as a war hero and a criminal ... and what would they make of Charles actually marrying the man he had almost sentenced to death

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