asscreedkinkmeme ([personal profile] asscreedkinkmeme) wrote2012-10-29 11:35 pm
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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
( Archive
#2 (Livejournal) Archive
#2 ( Archive
(Dreamwidth) Archive <- Currently active
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Fills Only

It's a wonderful life, Connor

(Anonymous) 2013-01-10 08:04 am (UTC)(link)
After seeing how his village is gone thanks to Congress that he helped put in place, Connor wonders if it wouldn't have been better if he'd never existed. He sees world the way it would have been sans him (power of Apple, Juno, etc).

Fill: Light the Fire That Gives and Takes

(Anonymous) 2013-01-11 09:00 am (UTC)(link)
Hope this is okay, OP!


The village was cold.

Many years ago, Connor had found nothing but warmth here, regardless of the frost on the ground or the chill in the air. This was his home and his center, his mother his guiding light. It did not matter that his father was not present or that the villagers would still whisper behind their backs about him and his heritage, about the unfortunate nature of his birth. She was strong for the both of them, and that was all he needed.

When she passed, some of that warmth had died with her. He still knew the smiles of his friends, but never again was the fire in the longhouses as comforting as when Kaniehtí:io was by his side. In its place was the frigid grasp of anger; the desire for revenge consumed him, and his obsession with a man named Charles Lee--a man with black hair and a cruel smile--became his identity.

His loss had been great, the effects of it far-reaching. What he felt now, though, could not compare.

A boy named Ratonhnhaké:ton had left this place to become a man to protect his village, but as he stood here now, alone, he wondered if his actions had destroyed it. What would have happened if he had not left? What if his home had never felt the touch of the Templar and Assassin war? A thousand lives he’d taken for the sake of his village, and for what? A scattered people, a lost homeland, and a trinket around his neck.

--A trinket that glowed and hummed, that called to him in the language of whispers and secrets.

It spoke to him, drawing him slowly but surely toward the longhouse where the clan mother had once resided. Inside, Connor found a familiar box and, within, the very item that had sent him on this journey. As if alive, the Piece of Eden beckoned to him like a moth to a flame, its light brighter than any fire he’d ever seen. Closer and closer he drew until, at last, he held the orb in his hands.

But there was no warmth to be found here. Connor felt the chill of grief, of regret well up within him, and the world around him was engulfed in flames.

He saw his mother and his father; he saw them in love, and he saw them fall apart. Haytham would return to his Templar ideals, and Kaniehtí:io became the clan mother. The village prospered, but he felt it, knew it instinctively, that they still feared the encroachment of the white man. He could see it in the eyes of his people, in his mother and his friends; he could hear the whispers: they are coming, they are coming.

And when they did, the village burned. The forest burned. The world burned.

Connor could hear the screams of children, of women, of men; he could smell ash and death, could taste it on his tongue. His mother--where was his mother? Like a specter, he moved between the debris, and he called out to her in a voice that would never be heard and would never be known. The flames licked at him, but there was no heat; the walls collapsed on him, but there was no pain. He was a man out of time and out of place.

Again, he watched his mother die, and as her final breath passed her lips, Connor felt darkness swallow him in its velvet embrace.

He struggled and fought against it as the inky blackness filled his lungs, gagging him, and when he thought he could take no more, there was light--the sickly, grey light of winter. There was snow on the ground, and when Connor lifted his eyes, he saw the Davenport manor before him. There was something wrong about it though: the grounds were overgrown, the home itself more rundown than he’d ever seen it.

Most importantly, however, was that the door had been kicked in.

Horror filled him, and he ran and ran and ran, shouting the name of his mentor as he stormed inside. Blood trailed down the hall toward the back of the house and into the basement; broken glass, papers, and books littered the floor. The house had been ransacked, and now, an eerie silence hung over the area.

Hands curled into fists, Connor made his way down the steps, and there he was: Achilles, dead in a pool of his own blood. Beside him, his cane laid shattered on the floor, the handle still resting in the fold of the old man’s hand. Connor came to a stop by his mentor’s side, bent to lift him, to give him a proper burial, but his hands slipped right through him. Again and again, he tried, but this was the same as with his mother--there was nothing he could do; he was but a phantom in this world.

The floor opened up beneath him, gaping and hungry, and he shouted, hands reaching for the quickly vanishing view of the manor. Down and down he fell, cold air biting at his skin as the wind whistled loudly in his ears, but instead of crashing into the ground below, Connor came to a neat, albeit abrupt, stop a foot off the ground. He panted as he got to his feet and took in the scenery around him; he was at Valley Forge, and the Patriots were at war. The sound of marching men, of drills being practiced filled his ears, but it was the man who stood before him that caught his attention: Charles Lee.

A messenger passed by and handed the general a letter. Gaze hardening, Connor marched over and he peered at the words written there. It spoke of burning the nearby native villages, spoke of their allegiance to the British. This was when Connor had learned of Washington’s betrayal, but where was the man in question? He scanned the vicinity for his former ally and found nothing; even Lafayette seemed absent from the scene.

Lee crumpled the paper in his hands and sent the courier away, his lips twisting into a grim smile. As he returned to his tent, it was then that Connor realized what had happened, why it was not commander-in-chief he knew who was receiving the news. In this world that he walked in, Washington was already dead--dead by the hands of the Templars. The Brotherhood was nothing but a faint memory, and there was no resistance--not without Achilles, not without... him.

With the second razing of his village imminent, Connor paced, slipping in and out of Lee’s tent, desperate to get the man’s attention. It didn’t matter what he did though; he did not exist here, did not belong. This was a world where he had no hand in its fate, but someone deemed it appropriate for him to see this--for him to feel the pain and agony of losing everyone, of losing everything.

Eventually, he took to standing outside Lee’s tent, staring numbly in the direction of his village. Connor knew now that his actions had only bought his people time before they were ousted from their land, but that was still better than this. All around him, soldiers started to mobilize, and he wondered if he would have to watch as his home burned to the ground all over again.

His feet automatically took him toward the forest, but as he crossed over the river, the world turned. The earth became the sky, and the sky became the earth. Connor was falling once more, falling into a blue abyss, and this time, he didn’t fight it, didn’t make a sound. He merely wondered what other horrors he would be forced to witness.

The amulet around his neck pulsed--once, twice, three times, and he was blinded by a white light. Connor lifted a hand to shield his eyes, but it was as if they were still wide open. He saw his father and his men; they smiled and laughed, pat each other on the back. Lee wore a sash and fine military regalia, and instinctively, he knew: the Templars had achieved what they wanted--the man was now the leader of a nation freshly made.

Those familiar figures faded from his mind, replaced with images of soldiers marching--a red cross emblazoned on their uniforms. He saw cannons and guns, horseless carriages and mushroom-shaped clouds that touched the heavens. Metal ships sailed the seas, and steel birds flew in the sky, raining fire upon the ground below; war raged, and blood was shed. There was death, so much death, and for all that the Order professed to seek peace through order, Connor saw very little of it now.

As he watched humanity bleed itself dry, the light that had blinded him eventually receded, as did the images that flickered through his mind, and when he chanced the opportunity to open his eyes, Connor saw the world--blue and green, brown and white--far below him. It was beautiful, far more beautiful than any renditions he’d seen painted onto globes. He found the Americas, Europe, Africa; he saw the ice caps in the far north and south. Connor saw the pinpricks of light that dotted the landscape. From his vantage point, the earth looked to be at peace. Perhaps some time in the future all would be well, or so it was his hope.

But it would not be so.

Once again, he was blinded by a flash of light, and when he could see again, the world had been set aflame. Thick, grey smoke had replaced white clouds, and the light that spread across the continents no longer twinkled like the stars in the sky but raged--raged like the flames that had engulfed his village.

Your existence has prevented this.

The voice spoke directly to him in his thoughts, and Connor felt a fierce chill wash over him, as if his blood had suddenly turned to ice. He remembered her, remembered her as the one who had directed him to Achilles, to his path as an Assassin. She appeared by his side, flickering in and out of view.

Your sacrifice will enable humanity to survive a time of crisis.

And then he was falling, falling, falling--falling to his death.

He awoke with a start, the Piece of Eden rolling out of his hands. Connor’s breath rattled, and a cold sweat slicked his skin. The amulet around his neck glowed softly; he closed a fist around it, felt its unnatural warmth. Instinctively, he knew what he had to do next, and he rose, his legs feeling shaky beneath him. Perhaps that had been a journey that was supposed to reassure him of his path, of the righteousness of his quest, but an emptiness gnawed at him.

The village was cold, and he longed for a warmth gone from this world.

Re: Fill: Light the Fire That Gives and Takes

(Anonymous) - 2013-01-11 09:05 (UTC) - Expand


(Anonymous) - 2013-01-11 16:28 (UTC) - Expand

Haytham has another child

(Anonymous) 2013-01-10 08:13 am (UTC)(link)
...and it's Deborah (yes, the recruit). Haytham wonders why he is cursed. Conner and Deborah have a field day (after she gets over her crush on him).

Re: Haytham has another child

(Anonymous) 2013-01-12 10:48 pm (UTC)(link)
Hehehehehehe Seconded!

Re: Haytham has another child

(Anonymous) - 2013-01-13 00:10 (UTC) - Expand

Washington asks Achilles/Haytham for Connor's hand in marriage

(Anonymous) 2013-01-10 08:15 am (UTC)(link)
...I don't even know

Re: Washington asks Achilles/Haytham for Connor's hand in marriage

(Anonymous) 2013-01-10 08:56 am (UTC)(link)
Oh dear lord, I need this!

Ziio lived and got together with Achilles, Haytham is jealous

(Anonymous) 2013-01-10 08:20 am (UTC)(link)
Ziio lived and goes to visit her son who is training to be an Assassin. She and Achilles hit it off (though Connor prefers not to think about it). When Connor meets Haytham later on during the Church chapter, Connor lets slip that Ziio and Achilles are together and Haytham gets really jealous that 1) Achilles has Ziio and that 2) Connor thinks of Achilles as a father.

Aquila crew misjudge Connor

(Anonymous) 2013-01-10 01:33 pm (UTC)(link)
He's a quietly-spoken, polite, eager to please, young man. He's also what, 16/17? And he's never been on board a ship before and has no experience. Plus he's a Native American. They don't expect this shy boy to be much. He isn't, not at first, but he learns quickly and starts to lose that hesitation.

But what really takes the crew by surprise is how deep and commanding Comnor can sound when he bellows his lungs out, because by God, sir, you had better furl that sail double-time or Connor will get you.

Basically, fic about the Aquila crew grumbling about Connor being too quiet and inexperienced, and Connor suddenly breaking out of his shell and scaring them half to death.

Re: Aquila crew misjudge Connor

(Anonymous) 2013-01-10 09:37 pm (UTC)(link)
seconding. i'd love to see this get filled

Re: Aquila crew misjudge Connor

(Anonymous) - 2013-01-11 03:11 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Aquila crew misjudge Connor

(Anonymous) - 2013-01-11 03:52 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Aquila crew misjudge Connor

(Anonymous) - 2013-01-11 04:50 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Aquila crew misjudge Connor

(Anonymous) - 2013-01-12 22:49 (UTC) - Expand


(Anonymous) 2013-01-10 05:27 pm (UTC)(link)
Charles is jealous of Haytham's relationship with Ziio and seeing how miserable he is, Thomas Hickey helps him get drunk one night.
Then Haytham shows up and drunk as Charles is he kisses Haytham, and is mortified when he realises what he have done.

Haytham's/ the others reaction is up to the filler :p
luthienberen: (DC/JL)

Re: Haytham/Charles - Drunken Shenanigans 1/?

[personal profile] luthienberen 2013-12-08 03:37 pm (UTC)(link)
Hi, I've had a go at your prompt and uploaded the first part below. It is my first Assassin’s Creed fanfic, so I hope it live up to OP’s expectations! Also posted on A03.

Beta-read by rae_fa who was excellent in pointing out some spelling & grammar errors!

It'll probably end up Mature or Explicit! Modern!AU. Jealously; angst; first time.

= = =

His cereal was becoming mushy.

If he wanted to eat it while it still had taste and texture he had to actually scoop up a portion and put his spoon into his mouth. Rather than do that Charles instead focused despondently on his tea, sitting on the counter in front of him.
It was in need of milk.

Sighing, Charles grabbed his mug and went to the fridge. Pulling out the container he poured the milk into the black liquid. Charles was aware of how improper this was: milk should always be added first, the brew then poured into the creamy substance. Haytham was very particular about the correct order and Charles was in perfect accord with Haytham.

They even had a number of teapots to use to ensure that this happened. However, today Charles simply didn’t care. Sipping the improper tea, Charles could only dwell on the peculiar lethargy that suffused his being.

All other sensation simmered underneath the crushing weight of his numbness.

As he drank the hot brew Charles rewound the events of just an hour ago. It was impossible not to, no matter how hard he tried to forget, the images replayed in his head like some perverse film caught in a loop.

Charles Lee could see as clear as it was happening now, how happy Haytham had looked when that Native woman, Ziio, had appeared on their doorstep wishing to speak with the Grand Master.

If that wasn’t bad enough Ziio had been invited in by Haytham and encouraged to sit on their sofa!

Charles trembled as a wave of anger surged through him, as if the hot tea was drowning away his lethargy, permitting his feelings of unhappiness to come to crashing to the fore.

He was terribly angry; not at Haytham…but at Ziio and at himself for being so vulnerable, so weak. He hated how easily Haytham had welcomed the woman back into the fold. Well, no, that wasn’t entirely true.

Ziio had never been in their fold, merely a useful tool that had revealed some information on sites that might contain a Piece of Eden, something they desperately required to stay ahead of the accursed Assassins.

It had led nowhere and Charles was honest enough to admit he had been relieved. To have Haytham look at anyone else with the same approval and even a small dash of admiration that he favoured Charles with, whenever Charles did a good job was…well, it made jealously rise like a cloying brew in his chest and throat.

So life had returned to normal with Charles working alongside Haytham in Abstergo Industries, searching for a way to put a permanent end to the Assassin Brotherhood and bring the world into order.

Then it had transpired that Haytham had shared an intimate moment with Ziio…a fact that Charles had learned from Thomas Hickey of all people.
Charles had to put his mug down as his hands were shaking, causing the brown liquid to slosh near the edge.

The memory of that horrid revelation was a bitter one…


“Hey Charlie!”

Sighing in frustration at the nickname, Charles scowled as Thomas draped an arm over his shoulders.

“I told you not to call me that.”

Thomas grinned and leaning close drawled, “Yeah, but who cares? Anyway, Charlie I know something about O’Haytham that I bet you don’t.”
Charles wrinkled his nose in distaste. Thomas reeked of beer.

“You’re drunk man.”

Glancing at his watch Charles shook his head, “And it’s only ten in the morning. Pull yourself together; neither William nor Haytham will approve you slobbering like this in work.”

Charles attempted to shrug off Thomas’ grip and focus on his computer screen even as Thomas’ mention of Haytham piped his curiosity.

Thomas didn’t leave, just laughed and settled in the spare chair across from Charles’ desk. Charles glared at his screen, but suddenly Thomas began singing – off-key – “Haytham met a little birdie and what a birdie it was! Off together they flew and after a long flight they settled into a nest and sang until the dawn…”

Charles hit the wrong key and deleted the report he had been working on for two long agonising days.


Looking up at a smirking Thomas, Charles felt his chest constrict. “What birdie?”

“Take a guess.”

The native woman. Charles trembled, desperate to know for certain.

“Ziio? He…Haytham and her..?”

Thomas laughed and nodded, “Yep, overheard William talking with Haytham who was distracted. William wanted to know whether we could trust the native woman to keep quiet and O’Haytham said that we could. William wanted to know how Haytham could know this-”

“Johnson questioned Haytham?” Charles couldn’t believe the audacity of the man, Haytham was not someone you doubted. He was the one man that Charles had met that encapsulated the Templar ideal: determined, faithful, skilled with both words and weapons. He was honest and good to the men who served under him.

Haytham’s unwavering desire to see order and peace brought into the world was untainted from avarice or cruelty. Such qualities had left Charles desperate to meet Haytham and to be granted the opportunity to work with him was the answer to his dreams. To serve Haytham was a constant source of joy to Charles.

As such to have anyone doubt Haytham’s good word was unthinkable…in fact it was disloyal.

Thomas rolled his eyes, “Yeah, because not everyone believes that Haytham causes the sun to rise. Anyway, Haytham said that he had parted on good terms with Ziio after she indicated an…ah…’interest’ in his qualities.”

No. Charles felt pain erupt in his hands from the sheer force he was curling his fingers, his nails, into his palms. It was nothing to the stabbing pain and yes, fear, in his heart. He adored Haytham and yes, loved the man more than he ought and while Charles knew that Haytham couldn’t possibly desire him back in the same way, Charles had hoped to impress Haytham enough to always be needed, to ever be worthy of Haytham’s friendship.

Over the last year and a half Charles had started to believe that he was succeeding and the day that Haytham insisted he call him by name, that they were friends, was the best in his life.

Yet now…if Haytham had found someone else, this woman who could offer knowledge Charles couldn’t, could potentially give Haytham a family…then perhaps Charles would no longer be required.

Friendship wasn’t enough; Charles needed to be necessary, to be needed, to be allowed to serve.

Thomas must have seen his expression for he quickly sat up and said in a slightly slurred attempt of reassurance, “Hey, don’t be like that! The way Haytham mentioned it was as detached as he normally is over the colour of his notebooks. Total disinterest.”

Charles gasped and cursed his weakness as Thomas, now clearly alarmed, struggled to lean over the desk, scattering Charles’ papers, and gripped his arm in a tight hold.

“Gotta believe me Charlie. Haytham meant nothing by it. Cool your horses, he hasn’t replaced you.”

The fact that Thomas had struck right to the heart of the matter was terrifying and Charles hated how obvious his emotions were. Weakly uncurling his hands, he heard Thomas hiss and saw though blurred vision, the man bite his lip. Breathing heavily, Charles hated himself even as he asked in a faint voice, “It was nothing?”

“Of course!”

Cautious relief sneaked into his heart and Charles chastised himself for his stupidity. If Ziio had meant anything to Haytham surely Haytham would have remarked upon the affair, especially to Chares who essentially was his right-hand man and friend.

Struggling to breathe and clear his vision Charles nodded curtly at Thomas and dropped his gaze to his hands. Blood smeared his palms and stained his nails from where they had gouged into his skin.

“Haytham is gonna kill me,” moaned Thomas.

“No, he won’t. It was an accident,” with that Charles reached for a tissue while Thomas searched for something more useful, namely a bandage.

~ ~ ~

Charles blinked as tears fell. That awful day had been a year ago. Since then Ziio had not been raised in conversation so Charles had considered himself safe.

Haytham and he had fought many battles together amid the bustling ignorant people on the street. Not long after the day that they became friends Charles had come to the end of the contract on his rented flat and his landlord didn’t wish to renew.

Charles had been more annoyed than upset as it was inconvenient to look for new lodgings when the majority of his time was spent in his office.
He had mentioned this to Haytham who had given him an exasperated look as if to say, is that all?

“Just move in Charles.”

“Pardon Sir?”

“Haytham remember. And I thought the solution to your problem was obvious. Simply move in with me. The house is more than sufficient for both our requirements. We spend all our work and personal time together, so actually living together seems a natural extension.”

“But Thomas and William are with us…”

“Rather different I think Charles. Well? Don’t you agree it makes sense for you to move into my place?”

“Yes, of course Haytham. I can fetch my belongings this weekend..?” If the thrill of being chosen above the rest of their cohort was evident in his voice and beaming face then Charles could surely be forgiven. It wasn’t every day that Haytham - the Grandmaster of the Templars – invited you to share their abode.

Especially not as his friend.

Haytham smiled, “I’ll make room and we can shift your things. I daresay Thomas can be of some assistance.”

They had fallen into a rhythm and apart from Thomas’ teasing and William’s curious glances Charles had been enjoying living with Haytham, sharing their lives so more intimately.

Yet, now after such a long interval of silence Ziio had re-appeared and swept Haytham up into whatever she was plotting. When Charles had aired his concerns (in private, in Haytham’s room) Haytham had said they couldn’t afford to not at least listen to Ziio.

Haytham had clapped a hand on his shoulder and smiled. A small shred of pleasure uncurled in Charles at this memory. “I’ll be careful Charles. Sit tight and await my return.”

Then the Grand Master was gone, smiling in his charming manner and displaying his noble behaviour when escorting Ziio out of their home.

Left behind he was sure that winter had burst into his life, snatching in a blizzard his friend and master.

Now here he was, drinking ill-made tea and eyeing a soggy breakfast cereal. Injustice at the situation mixed with his anger and jealously at Ziio for returning, for supplying once more the offers of knowledge, of family.

To be precise, for a life without Charles.

The crash of china jarred Charles from his misery and he snarled at the mess of tea, shards of his mug and his blood on the no longer pristine kitchen ties.

Snatching a towel, Charles wrapped his hand clumsily and grabbed a brush and pan. Kneeling he began cleaning.

Dumping the china, Charles started mopping the tiles of blood and tea, yet as he did all he could linger on was Haytham’s all too obvious pleasure at seeing Ziio, Charles’ all too real rival.

Despair and insecurity swelled within until Charles was sure he would burst from how pathetic he felt. Amid his emotional distress a hand landed on his back, almost giving him a heart-attack.

“Fucking hell, Charles, what have you gone and done now?”

Charles looked up, heart still racing.

Thomas Hickey was crouched next to him. An expression of horror and worry was comically graven into his face.

Charles found himself unable to stop his doubts from spilling out like his tea. “Ziio was here. Haytham went with her.”


Thomas glanced around and back at Charles.

Charles wanted to wipe the concern off Thomas’ face and scrub the wary caution from Thomas’ tone when he spoke, neither emotion belonged there. He also rued the hour that Haytham had handed a spare key to William and Thomas ‘just in case’.

Thomas surveyed the mess shaking his head. “Okay then. How about I finish cleaning this up and afterwards your hand.”

Thomas touched Charles’ face, “And your moustache. How the hell did you get tea there? No don’t answer.”

Thomas dropped his hand. “Anyway, you’re gonna shower. Afterwards, when you look human I’ll take you drinking. What you say? Drown your sorrows?”

Contemplating, Charles finally nodded. Forgetting this entire incident in a sea of alcohol was preferable to waiting anxiously for Haytham to return and confirm he was with staying Ziio. Maybe he would be prepared then.
Edited 2013-12-08 15:40 (UTC)

The more things change, the more they stay the same...

(Anonymous) 2013-01-10 08:46 pm (UTC)(link)
Inspired by this image:

Haytham holds a high rank in Absetergo who are actively looking for Desmond Miles and other the Assassins. While crossing the street (or in a coffee shop, though I kind of like the idea that they're in a Revolutionary War museum or gallery), he brushes up against a young man and suddenly gains his past life memories as the Templar Grandmaster and recognizes the young man as Connor - whom he learns is his son in this time as well... and most likely an Assassin. Now that he has a second chance, will he try to reach out to his son or have him captured for Abstergo?

Re: The more things change, the more they stay the same...

(Anonymous) 2013-01-12 02:45 pm (UTC)(link)

Anon thinks this would be a very interesting read indeed!

Washington/Lafayette, Connor watches

(Anonymous) 2013-01-11 02:34 am (UTC)(link)
Washington and Lafayette are in the Frontier kissing/cuddling/banging/whatever you'd like and Connor stumbles upon them.
Whether or not they notice him is up to you ;w;

Connor gets turned into a pomeranian, Charles adopts him

(Anonymous) 2013-01-11 03:55 am (UTC)(link)
What it says on the tin. :)

Re: Connor gets turned into a pomeranian, Charles adopts him

(Anonymous) 2013-01-11 04:35 am (UTC)(link)
In fact, I found the perfect pic too: (though that little baby is more of a cross between a pomeranian and a husky)

Charles Lee, Ounewaterika (boiling water)

(Anonymous) 2013-01-11 08:06 am (UTC)(link)
Anon was just reading about the RL Charles Lee, and apparently, he married the daughter of a Mohawk chief and was named Ounewaterika (boiling water) for his temper.

Anon can't help thinking if his relations with another Mohawk clan is how he got Connor's village to trust him.

(Anonymous) 2013-01-11 08:13 am (UTC)(link)
The prompt is this image:

Bartender AU preferred, but whatever strikes you is fine! Go nuts, anon!


So since it's Altair's bday

(Anonymous) 2013-01-11 08:51 am (UTC)(link)
Can we get an altmal fic up in here for the Grand Master's birthday? :)

idk maybe the masyaf assassin's plan a bday party for their grand master and altair like sense something is up and tries to find out what so everyone has to work EXTRA HARD to hide the party from altair because IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE A SURPRISE!

They do surprise him (after some VERY CLOSE CALLS) and then maybe after malik gives altair his present if ya know what i mean. Something nice though, i want something believable?? Of course work some bday sex up in there ahaha (i don't care who tops)

I don't mind if you work maria in there too I like malik and maria as buddies that pick on Altair (like an ot3 ahaha) but the focus is still altmal?? ahahaha

happy birthday altair!!!

Haytham in the Homestead

(Anonymous) 2013-01-11 01:56 pm (UTC)(link)
I would love to see a fic where Haytham visits the Homestead for whatever reason (maybe he gets injured and have to go there for help or something).
I'd love to see how everyone reacts to him being there and finding out that he is Connor's father.

Re: Haytham in the Homestead

(Anonymous) 2013-01-12 10:50 pm (UTC)(link)

Malik/Altaïr: size differences

(Anonymous) 2013-01-11 02:15 pm (UTC)(link)
Because the first game deserves more love, I have a mighty need for Malik/Altaïr.
Specifically, Malik's junk is bigger than Altaïr's, which annoys the living hell out of Altaïr (until Malik puts his bits to good use.)

+10 if Altaïr is reduced to a sobbing, incoherent mess as result.
+15 if Malik is ridiculously damn smug about Altaïr being so completely out of it afterwards.

Re: Malik/Altaïr: size differences

(Anonymous) 2013-01-11 03:46 pm (UTC)(link)
Ooohhhh myyy goooddd seconded so hard, and for all the bonuses. Unf.

Re: Malik/Altaïr: size differences

(Anonymous) - 2014-05-27 22:26 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Malik/Altaïr: size differences

(Anonymous) - 2017-03-01 10:20 (UTC) - Expand

Modern assassins + Clay

(Anonymous) 2013-01-11 02:52 pm (UTC)(link)
I don't know about you, meme, but I could use something happy. I'd like to see a world where Desmond, Shaun, Lucy, Rebecca, and Clay are all sane and alive and being badass Assassins, and also having a lot of sex with each other. If OT5 is too much, Desmond/Clay or Shaun/Clay or all three of them would also be wonderful. Clay needs some love is what I'm saying.

Anybody/Connor, voyeurism

(Anonymous) 2013-01-12 01:09 am (UTC)(link)
Somebody accidentally spies on Connor while he's, ah, indecent. Maybe he's bathing. Maybe he was too exhausted to dress for bed, and just flopped down naked. Hell, maybe he's wanking. Whatever. The person knows they ought to turn away and respect Connor's privacy... But they can't. There's something mesmerising about that man, especially in such a vulnerable position. Cue guilty, trying-to-be silent masturbation? Or maybe just awkward adoration. Whatever floats anon's boat.

I have a preference for one of the recruits, or maybe a templar, but its really up to anon.

Re: Anybody/Connor, voyeurism

(Anonymous) 2013-01-12 02:41 am (UTC)(link)
i might be able to write something. no promises, but i might be able to do it. did you have a preference for which recruit?


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Re: OP

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Re: Anybody/Connor, voyeurism

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Haytham/Ziio - modern AU

(Anonymous) 2013-01-12 04:29 am (UTC)(link)
Ziio hears some classical music on radio/pandora/whatever and attempts to waltz by herself just for fun/for the hell of it. Then Haytham walks in on her, finds her dancing by herself adorable and asks if Ziio actually wants to learn how to waltz. She agrees reluctantly.

P-please you guys.

Re: Haytham/Ziio - modern AU

(Anonymous) 2013-01-14 03:13 am (UTC)(link)
aww this is cute

totally seconded

Re: Haytham/Ziio - modern AU

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Driving AU

(Anonymous) 2013-01-12 05:01 am (UTC)(link)
This Anon's craving a modern-day AU where Haytham teaches a 16 or 17 year old Connor how to drive a car. Much hilarity and awkward father/son bonding ensues. Maybe Haytham takes Connor out to eat afterwards? Go crazy, WriterAnons!

Bonus Points: Connor can't drive a car to save his life, but can drive his dad's boat just fine. (No matter what universe it is, Haytham will always be rich enough to own a boat, imho.)

SUPER MEGA ULTRA BONUS POINTS: If Paul Revere comes along with them for whatever reason, and starts up with, "Go left Connor! We are on the right course! Get back in the car, Connor!"

EXTREME SUPER MEGA ULTRA BONUS POINTS: if Haytham kicks Paul out of the car.

Re: Driving AU

(Anonymous) 2013-01-12 10:52 pm (UTC)(link)
Yes! Especially the Paul Revere thing. He was so annoying when I was playing. Seconded!

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Re: Driving AU

(Anonymous) - 2013-01-16 05:54 (UTC) - Expand

OP here!

(Anonymous) - 2013-01-20 07:34 (UTC) - Expand

Driving lesson 1/1

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Re: OP (WriterAnon)

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Re: Driving lesson 1/1

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(Anonymous) 2013-01-12 07:26 am (UTC)(link)
So this has everything to do with the fact that Suleiman has Malik's voice actor and I'm not even sorry.

Suleiman and the 'handsome' minstrel take their friendship a little further. Ezio on top prefered, but I would just be happy for anything between them, even if it's just flirting.

Re: Ezio/Suleiman

(Anonymous) 2013-01-12 09:54 pm (UTC)(link)
Fuckkk yes

connor, forced blowjob

(Anonymous) 2013-01-12 08:52 am (UTC)(link)
just saw this on tumblr

and now i need fic like burning. please, anons!

Re: connor, forced blowjob

(Anonymous) 2013-01-12 02:52 pm (UTC)(link)
Holy crap! Anon seconds this!!!! The picture is so beautifully hot! If only this anon could write -_-

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Google is run by the Templars

(Anonymous) 2013-01-12 07:14 pm (UTC)(link)

Incriminating evidence, I know. Anyways, the Assassins decide to infiltrate Google.

And discover that their ultra-fast search engine is powered by enslaved human clones.

All of them look like a young Steve Jobs.

Cuddle-time with Connor and Haytham

(Anonymous) 2013-01-12 08:10 pm (UTC)(link)
Basically, I have a dire need to see this scenario play out:

Connor: Cuddle? <(-^.^-)>
Haytham: No. ಠ_ಠ
Connor: (T^T)
Haytham: ... Fine. ¬_¬;
Connor: \(^_^)/

How this happens is up to annon; is this an AU with toddler/little boy!Connor? Is this what happens when Haytham accidentally gets Connor drunk? However you want to make it happen, just so long as its fluffier than a blanket of baby bunnies.

Bonus points if:
-Haytham is trying to maintain his snarky-grumpiness, but is inwardly melting into a puddle of goo
-Connor ends up falling asleep in Haytham's arms

Re: Cuddle-time with Connor and Haytham

(Anonymous) 2013-01-12 08:16 pm (UTC)(link)
I need this so badly

Re: Cuddle-time with Connor and Haytham

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Embrace 1/1

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(Anonymous) 2013-01-13 01:15 am (UTC)(link)
i don't care how or why, i just want to see my two favorite recruits with that big, adorable bear of an Assassin.

Fill - A Little Cabin in the Woods

(Anonymous) 2013-04-19 07:17 pm (UTC)(link)
So, if you care about backstory: they're headed out on a mission and stopped for the night in a cabin. Then sex. Enjoy!


Clipper sat low on Connor’s bare stomach, legs spread wide to accommodate the larger Assassin’s girth. He ran his hands over Dobby’s bare spine and she purred, curving up over Connor’s torso. Clipper leaned forward slightly to rub his crotch over her seat, fascinated with the way Connor’s darker skin framed Dobby’s body.

She groaned and rolled her hips back, brushing Clipper’s ass against Connor’s huge prick. Both men gave breathy moans, and Dobby giggled as her fingers tangled in Connor’s hair. Clipper bent forward and shuddered as Conner’s big hand flexed on his hip, feeling Dobby do much the same.

Clipper felt Connor’s cock twitch and leave a wet spot on his ass as Dobby bent to kiss him. She had to bend a little awkwardly, and Clipper pulled her back as he sat himself over Connor’s hips. She purred again, and Clipper couldn’t help but rut against her. Connor was trembling and the hand on Clipper’s hip was going to leave bruises. Clipper put his hand over Connor’s and pressed it down harder.

Dobby had moved down again, pressing her groin flush with Clipper’s as she licked and nibbled on the thick column of Connor’s neck. Clipper could see his face at last, dazed and rapturous, staring up at the ceiling. Clipper squeezed Connor’s hand again and rubbed a little harder over Connor’s prick and those dazed eyes slipped down to look. Clipper smiled desperately, leaned forward and ground himself against Dobby’s ass one last time and came.

Conner finally started tentatively thrusting, and Clipper groaned as Dobby reached between her legs, underneath his hips and managed to awkwardly get her fingers around Connor. It seemed to steal all the air from his body, and Clipper whimpered before toppling himself off to the side. Dobby scooted down Connor’s body, kissing his chest and licking his nipples as she pressed the head of his cock against the lips of her sex.

Clipper heaved for air as he watched Connor freeze, letting Dobby slowly work her way down onto him in her own time. She paused halfway, pulled off a little and then rocked herself down farther. When she pulled off again, she could barely reach his lips for a kiss, but Connor was more than happy to lift his head.

His arms wrapped around her loosely, though Clipper could see from the tension in his forearms that Connor wanted to grip her tight. Dobby slowly rocked herself over Connor’s body, still taking him only halfway, letting her breasts and her stomach brush over him as she moved. Clipper licked suddenly dry lips and squirmed closer. One of Dobby’s arms reached out for him, and after a moment so did one of Connor’s. They pulled him in and he ended up with his head resting on Connor’s chest, his mouth taking one of Dobby’s nipples and his finger’s squeezing the other.

She reared back unthinkingly, and Connor let out an almost-pained moan as she finally started working her way down completely. Clipper, with some of his energy back, followed her, laving her entire breast with his tongue. Connor’s hand joined him on the other, though he was more than content to simply weigh it in his palm and let Clipper tweak and rub the nipple.

Dobby cried out throatily, and Clipper got to his knees and wrapped his other arm around her waist, squeezing at the flesh that padded her side. Connor was whimpering breathlessly now, barely hanging on. Dobby pulled Clipper’s mouth off of her with a desperate gasp, and shoved his head toward Connor’s. She laughed at his mock-offended look, then gave him another shove as she ground down. Clipper was captivated by the way her thighs and stomach flexed, but turned to Connor who looked like he was about to explode.

Clipper nearly fell on Connor’s mouth, wanting to taste what Dobby was doing to him. Connor could barely respond, too overwhelmed, and Clipper smoothed his hands over Connor’s chest and felt his heart skip a beat when he came. Dobby yowled a little, pulling his flexing hips up to meet hers, and Clipper gently sucked on his earlobe. Connor was barely capable of gasping for air as Dobby pulled off him, and the glisten of the wiry hairs at her crotch made Clipper’s mouth water.

Dobby rolled onto Clipper bonelessly, and Clipper turned her onto her back next to Connor. He crawled down and ran a finger over Connor’s half-hard prick, and Connor gave a weak moan to object. Clipper grinned and lifted the finger to his lips, sucked it into his mouth and enjoyed the whimper Connor gave. Dobby, on the other hand, managed to prop herself up on her elbows and was staring at him hungrily.

“Want to put that mouth to good use?” She teased. Clipper felt his cheeks get even warmer somehow, but he settled between her knees and braced his hands on her thighs. When she hummed encouragingly, Clipper bent down, nuzzling his nose against her pubic hair and getting it soaked immediately. The thick scent of her sex mingled with sweat and Connor’s seed made his mouth water, and Clipper eased her legs apart so he could get access.

Dobby gave a quiet, pleased hum as he pulled her lips apart and blew gently over the slick flesh. The folds of her inner lips led in a v up to where a little hood of flesh hit her clit, but for now Clipper looked to her entrance and let his tongue trace the outside. She was gaping open, and a little of Connor’s issue was seeping out and mixing with Dobby’s juices.

Connor’s seed tasted unpleasant, but Clipper didn’t care and mixed it with the salty tangy taste of Dobby and pressed his tongue into her. She gasped and mewled a little, her hips weakly pressing down toward his mouth. Clipper tried to hold her hips down as she slowly thrust his tongue in and out of her, but Dobby kept squirming and Clipper had to laugh.

She shuddered at the vibrations, and Clipper replaced his tongue with two gentle fingers as he licked over her inner lips. Dobby keened and he felt her hands grab his hair roughly and groaned with pleasure as she gave his roots a hard tug when his tongue flicked over her clit.

Clipper pressed his fingers in a little more harshly, dropping his jaw as his tongue rubbed, caressed, flicked and wriggled against Dobby’s button. She responded passionately, grinding her crotch down onto his fingers, giving his hair a good pull whenever he did something she liked, and constant whimpering moans that got steadily louder as he drove her closer to her edge.

Her sudden quiet made him look up, but when she kicked his shoulder he bent back to his work. Though now he watched Connor kissing her, thrust his fingers in time with the motions of their lips. Connor’s massive paws palmed Dobby’s breasts unselfconsciously now, and when he tweaked one of her nipples Clipper could feel her twitch and flutter around his fingers.

Even the kisses couldn’t silence Dobby anymore, and her voice cracked as Clipper worked against a certain spot inside her. She was babbling quietly against Connor’s ear, and his thick arms wrapped around her and held her as Clipper slipped a slick pinky into her ass. She shrieked a little as she came, clutching Connor’s shoulders and Clipper’s hair.

Her body kept shuddering even after Clipper pulled his fingers out, and Connor pet her hair with one hand as Clipper crawled up to lay next to her. They were all breathing hard, harsh gasps the only sound in the little cabin. When Clipper could get up the energy to look the candle only had half an hour left to it, so he didn’t bother getting up to put it out.

Dobby lay nestled between them, both he and Connor on their sides with Clipper’s leg draped over Dobby’s and tucked between Connor’s. Their arms all weaved together, hair a tangled mess over the pillows that would be a pain to sort out in the morning. Dobby let out a giggle and turned to face Clipper, brushing their noses together. She kissed him gently, pulling back when the pressure on his jaw made him wince a little.

She licked her lips and smiled. “We taste pretty good on your mouth.” Clipper managed a chuckle.

“Well maybe tomorrow we’ll have time before we leave to find out how we taste on your mouth.” He motioned to Connor and winked. He could feel Connor shiver through Dobby, and she laughed at them both.

“Maybe.” She smirked saucily, then turned and gave Connor a wry look. “Here, I’ll have none of that now. I’m done for the night.”

Clipper craned his neck and caught sight of Connor’s erection growing against Dobby’s thigh. “I am sorry. I did not mean to-” Dobby cut him off with a tired flap of her hand.

“It’s to be expected with young men. If you’re really up for it roll Clipper over and bugger him, I meant it when I said I was done.”

Conner looked uncertainly between Dobby and Clipper, and Clipper only hesitated for a moment before he shifted away from Dobby and rolled onto his front. He tossed Connor a nervous smirk over his shoulder. “I’m not quite tuckered out yet if you’re not.”

Dobby laughed as Connor clambered over her, her hand drifting to her crotch as she lay back to watch the show.

Re: Fill - A Little Cabin in the Woods

(Anonymous) - 2013-05-05 23:28 (UTC) - Expand

Losing him anyways

(Anonymous) 2013-01-13 08:20 am (UTC)(link)
Haytham and Connor at the final Fort George scene. They're fighting and, somehow, either Haytham or Connor convinces the other to lay down his arms and actually listen. Just when it seems that one may have converted the other, a cannonball hits a nearby wall, and both are knocked down.

Whoever was doing the convincing gets up and finds out Connor/Haytham was knocked unconscious and heavily wounded by debris. He carries his son/father to safety.

Fast forward some time, whoever got out relatively unscathed helps his organization win (either Templar or Assassin). But he's concerned because Connor/Haytham hasn't woken from the injury at Fort George. It soon becomes obvious that his son/father has gone into a coma and won't wake up and, heartbroken, whoever got out unscathed and ended up on the winning side ends his son/father's life to give him a clean death.

Re: Losing him anyways

(Anonymous) 2013-01-16 11:12 pm (UTC)(link)
I want this I could do with some sad angsty cute father/son stuff.

Accidental partial nudity

(Anonymous) 2013-01-13 08:36 pm (UTC)(link)
Christ in a handbasket I fucking hate being startled awake.
Nothing makes sense, you don't know what time it is, what day it is, what year it is, what your name is,
where you are and what the fuck is going on.
You don't know what is up and down and you don't know how feet work.

SO, after the events in the game, someone on the Homestead - or an Assassin Recruit - has something they
wanna announce/discuss and being the excited person they are, they show up and bang on the door like banging a goshdamn
trashcan lid.

Connor wakes up and thinks that someone or everyone is dying, and sleepily stampedes down the stairs and to the
door, rips the door open and inquires what the everloving shit is going on...
...while only wearing a pair of pants.

Whoever was at the door is so startled by Connor's amazing godlike body that they totally forget what they even wanted to talk about.

Re: Accidental partial nudity

(Anonymous) 2013-01-13 08:47 pm (UTC)(link)
This is such an awesome prompt! Seconded!

If nobody's filled in, like, a week or so, I might give this a go. I don't have time right now, unfortunately!

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