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

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assassin's creed

Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt. 5

Assassin's Creed Kink Meme pt.5
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✩ Comment anonymously with a character/pairing and a kink/prompt.

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

✩ One request per post, but fill the request as much as you want.

✩ The fill/request doesn't necessarily need to be smut.

✩ Don't flame, if you have nothing good to say, don't say anything.

✩ Have a question? Feel free to PM me.

✩ Last, but not least: HAVE FUN!

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Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
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I don't know the Black Jewel trilogy, but I like the idea and where you are going with it! Glad you picked this prompt up!

"That bitch," Ezio breathed as the heavy door slammed shut behind them, the click of lock following, "that whoring son of a BITCH! I'm going to kill her for this!"

The room they had been locked in was dark and musty, and the bed was covered with a layer of dust. Altair wrinkled his nose, and held the ball of witchlight higher as he striped the bed and laid Desmond down on the mattress. "Shut your yap, fool ,and help me here. He's starting to burn with fever, and we need to figure out what we're going to do." He didn't add in the part about all three of their violent tempers surfacing, or that they could potentially slaughter each other.

In a heartbeat Ezio was next to him, smoothing a hand over Desmond's brow and watching as the glassy, fogged eyes looked up at him. "Hey," he murmured in greeting.

"Hey," Ezio returned, smiling a little. "Sorry about this."
Desmond shrugged. "Eh, not your fault. Bound to happen sooner or later. The way I figure it, at least I'm going to be fucked by someone I trust."

"We're not fucking you, Desmond," Altair said from where he was lighting the torches with the little bit of Craft allowed to him by the Ring. "Marcella is counting on that more than anything. She knows that three Warlord Princes dosed on high amounts of safframate with either try to rut with one another or kill each other. We can't rut because of our Rings--"

"Is that the only reason?" Desmond's eyes were beginning to softly glow gold, a warning that the drug was starting to take effect. Altair felt a slow burn along his own spine, but didn't comment on it.

"No. It's also because we're brothers, and while I was more than happy to keep you two calm during your years as horny teenagers, its another thing entirely to fuck my family."

"Oh, so blowjobs and handjobs are okay, but everything else makes you twitch?" There was Desmond's temper, starting to show its head. Altair snarled softly in warning.

"Watch your temper, pup. I won't hesitate to turn you over my knee. I did that as your brother, to help you. This isn't helping you - this is backing you into a corner and using you like some whore. I won't do that, and neither will Ezio."

"You do realize that in about thirty seconds, none of that will matter, right?" Ezio asked, hands starting to shake and eyes flashing between brown and gold as the drug sank in.

Altair licked his lips. They were in a tight spot, but they had been in tighter. Like if Connor had been thrown in here with them - then they might have had trouble. But this? No, they could overcome this. They would resist the temptation to mount Desmond, mount each other like some sort of wild animals. The urge to rut was strong, but they could and would be stronger. "We play the game through then."

Ezio's eyes suddenly went predatory, as did Desmond's, and Altair knew they understood. "How long until the end of the game, brother?" Desmond asked in a silky croon, the drug bringing a red flush of his face. Altair felt hunger of a different sort stir inside him.

"Long enough," he told them, right before he stepped into a killing rage, Desmond and Ezio right beside him.

---------

"Bloody hell in a handbasket, loves."

A dark haired woman popped her head out of the carriage, looking up to where the dark energy was ripping through the stone of the tower, carrying with it a scent of madness and lust. "You don't think they'll actually kill each other, do you?"

The man driving the carriage looked down, pushing his glasses up as they slipped down his nose a little. "Hardly. Those three know their limits, even when in such a precarious position. There's no doubt they'll get out intact, but I think their pride might be a little battered by it all."

"So, what, does that mean we call in the cavalry, yell 'charge' and rescue the clearly-not damsels in distress?"

"No."

"No?"

"No. We sit here, drink tea, wait until they finish, and THEN we call in the cavalry, yell 'charge' and rescue the clearly-not damsels in distress."

"Shaun, I like the way you think. Got any Chai in that basket of yours?"

----------

Marcella smirked as she listened to the ominous rumble of sounds coming from upstairs. The dark energy swirling around the doorway was more than enough to paint a picture of what was happening, and it made her feel excellent. At long last, she had broken those arrogant bastards. When she went to retrieve them later on, there was no doubt in her mind that they would be thoroughly broken, all too willing to submit to her Black Widow Sisters. She could finally get their seed, their lineage, their power. And all it had taken was the arrival of a lazy Warlord Prince. It was too funny.

After this, she thought as she picked out her evening outfit, she would be the most powerful Queen in all of Terreille. Before, most of the Providence Queens had feared her simply because of the Warlord males that served her. But now she would have the dark-blooded lineage of the Shadow Order among her pets, and there was nothing that could stop them. Not even the Order itself would interfere, because they would be doing exactly what they were made to do - control an empire. The Queens would be disposed of, the Territory put under her thumb, and the power she had always deserved would be put in her hands.

She laughed as she slid into the sheer gown she picked out, tousling her hair and lightly slapping herself to bring more color to her cheeks. In a matter of hours, she would finally have everything she had longed for.

And it was all thanks to that one little Warlord.

---------

Desmond gasped as he was shoved back against the wall, teeth sinking into his neck as hands slammed his hands above his head, pinning him. He kicked out, hitting strong thighs with the balls of his feet. May the Darkness be Merciful, this felt too good to be real. He had never thought that fighting his brothers could make the burn fade as rapidly as it did, or draw out the sensations currently swimming through his body. Ezio and Altair clashed again, this time ending with Desmond shoved between them as the two clawed and bit for dominance, Ezio's wings flaring high while he snarled, trying to yank Desmond away and claim him as his own. Altair punched him and yanked back, cornering Desmond and clawing at the available flesh, drawing welts and angry red lines up. His clothes were in tatters and he knew he was bloody from the waist down but it didn't matter, none of it mattered because this felt far too good to stop, and he needed MORE, needed to be mounted and fucked until this gods-cursed burn went away and he could breathe again--

Even though both Altair and Ezio had refused to fuck him, he could taste the lust in the air, feel it swamp his senses until everything was going hazy and he was openly moaning, shamelessly begging for it. And he could feel Ezio and Altair moving towards him, both gripping him hard and rubbing themselves against his legs, trying to ease the burn. Altair's eyes were hard gold, pupils blown wide. Despite this, he still seemed somewhat coherent, muttering under his breath, "Won't, won't, won't."

Ezio was gasping, panting, forcing himself to stop every few seconds, his hands clutching at Desmond's shoulders hard, nails biting into the skin. He tore at Desmond's shirt, ripping it aside easily and licking at the salty skin on his shoulders, teeth dragging over the skin and marking it. "M-married, b-b-rother, m-married, b-b-rother..."

Even when the drug in their systems seemed to pull back, they kept at their mantras, kept forcing themselves away from the area of becoming mindless animals. Yet when the safframate seemed to make a return that was twice as horrible as it had been the first time, even Altair seemed to waver. Both looked at him, and Desmond knew they wanted him. Knew they needed it, their bodies were practically commanding them to take what they wanted, incest and marriages be damned. But he also knew they'd been raised in the Shadow Order, a place were obedience and strength were natural parts of life. If they couldn't overcome this obstacle, they would never be able to return with their heads held high.

Knowing that, Desmond shakily reached out and pulled them close, kissing them both firmly on the cheeks and keeping his grip even when his arms went numb. Both Altair and Ezio hugged him back, each man murmuring their mantras like a prayer, every now and again inserting his name into it, as if to remind themselves of who lay beside them, suffering in his own way.

Desmond offered up no prayers, merely closing his eyes and trusting in the knowledge that his brothers would never hurt him. Eventually his tired body gave out, his mind drifting somewhere between exhaustion and unconsciousness. Even then he hung on to his brothers, dreaming of the downfall of Hayll's Queen, never knowing that in a few precious hours, all of it would be coming true.

It's a very good book series, if you're into fantasy/romance. You should definitely pick it up if you get the chance, or at least check it out!

And thank you! ^^

Somehow, they made it through the night. And for that, Altair was forever grateful. Their grip on reality had been shaky at times, and the instincts had almost won out a couple of times, but they had made it, and tottered down to dinner afterwards, Desmond smiling tiredly at Connor, who looked at them with wide eyes. Marcella had clearly been expecting some sort of reaction to her appearance; the sheer gown that showed ample breasts and dark, seductive eyes while the air around her smelt of want and perfume. The perfume had been enough of a kick to knock them awake and keep them from falling over in front of the new recruits, who had stared at them in wide-eyed amazement. They had eaten the dinner offered to them (rich and lavish as always), and ignored Marcella's attempts at seduction.

Unfortunately, it was how they had ended up where they were now, chained up in the dungeons with a whip cracking across their backs, Marcella spitting something about arrogant aristo males or the Blood owing her or something. Altair didn't pay attention, quietly counting the strokes as ordered, feeling the blood run down his spine, making him light-headed with its loss. All three of them were exhausted, but they fed off the pain of the whip to keep them awake until it was safe to sleep. They would go to bed tonight with bloody backs and wake up tomorrow crusted and sore, but they would wake up alive and intact, and be ready to fight onwards.

CRACK! 52.
CRACK! 59.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! 117.

How much more did she intend to whip them?

Apparently a while, because she screamed at the guard, "Turn them around!" and suddenly they found bright light in their eyes and Marcella facing them, the gown revealing every aspect of her body to their gazes. Her face was flushed, whether from arousal or hatred, Altair didn't know. What he did know was he was hungry again, and wondered if Connor had saved any scraps from the kitchen earlier.

"You know, this could have been avoided, if you'd been good little boys and put your pricks to use, like Warlord Princes are supposed to do!" A crack of the whip, this one not hitting any of them, instead slapping the stone in front of them. Altair sighed, and looked over to his brothers, who were giving him the same 'are you kidding me' look. Why did everyone assume Warlord Princes were only good for fucking or fighting in this Realm? Oh, wait...

"Maybe if you'd planned it a little better, you might have had something," Ezio shot back, temper riding short after a long day. "After all, you did dose us with enough safframate to have empty us. You can't expect us to come until dry and then come again. A man's body can handle many things, but that is not one of them. Then again, seeing how you're still a virgin, I imagine a man's body is foreign to you, so we should excuse your lack of judgment."

The barb was executed beautifully,and if Altair's hands had been free, he would have applauded. As it was, it earned him a lash across the cheek from the whip, Marcella screaming obscenities the entire time. Something about her not being a virgin.

"Oh, you're right, my mistake; you're far too whorish to be a virgin."

Another blood-curdling scream, and another crack of the whip. Now Ezio's left cheek was bleeding quite badly, and he was straining at the leash in an obvious attempt to blow the bitch to kingdom come. Not that Altair blamed him, of course, but he was tired enough to remember that even if they were free they couldn't do anything, not with the Rings clamped over their cocks like they were. They would have to sit back and wait, and hope things came out alright.

Marcella would have probably gone on beating Ezio for the rest of the night, if not for the arrival of a guard, informing her that there were visitors at the gate to see her. Snarling one last time at the trio, she ordered the guards to let their arms down and put them in their cage for the night, and then stormed off to see whoever was waiting for her.

The good thing about the cages was that they had straw beds; all three brothers were used to sleeping on straw, and comfortably arranged themselves on it, putting Desmond in between them and saving a spot for Connor. He'd been chosen that night to pleasure Marcella (hah!) and would be back soon, once the stupid bitch realized she wouldn't be able to get him up no matter what she did. They were simply too well trained -- the earlier test should have proven that.

While they waited, they crowded close to Desmond and let their energies flow, erasing the scent of court females from his skin. The boy basked in the attention, offering a sleepy protest only when they shifted him slightly so he would have some warm hay to bury himself under. The nights in the dungeons got cold, and while body heat could sustain them for most of the night, none of them were taking any risks. Especially now that their baby brother was here.

As assumed, Connor returned a few minutes before midnight, slipping between Altair and Desmond and informing them that Shaun and Rebecca were inside the castle walls, and asked him to pass on the message that tomorrow morning the rebellion would begin. If things went according to plan, all four of them would be free men, back home with their families by the afternoon tomorrow.

It went unsaid between them that things rarely went according to plan, and by tomorrow they would probably all be chained down to beds or here in the dungeon. That could wait for tomorrow - right now they all needed was to sleep.

And three out of the four of them got it. While Altair, Ezio and Connor slept, Desmond dreamed of an office back home, and his father, dressed and looking clean shaven. When Desmond entered the office, the man looked up and put his pen down.

"You deserve a good kick in the ass, you know that boy?"

Desmond blinked, confused. "What? Why?"

William's frown was easily visible. "For allowing things to go so far. You were supposed to get in and get out after retrieving your brothers. Not linger and potentially get caught. This rebellion must be fast and powerful, not slow and deadly."

"I know that," Desmond snarled, feeling his temper rise. "But I don't have much choice father, considering I'm now bound as my brothers are. I'm Ringed, and can't leave anymore than they can. Our only chance is to hope things go according to plan--"

"And what, you can slip out the back? Damn it Desmond, this is not what I trained you for! You were supposed to think ahead, not plot behind and hope things went accordingly!" William had slammed his hands on the desk and risen to his feet at the start of the lecture; now he sat back down, covering his face with a hand and sighing heavily. "Mother Night, you've really gone and done it, haven't you Prince?"

Desmond grimaced. Then paused. "Wait, how are you contacting me?"

William looked up, brow raised. "Really? Boy, do you not know ANYTHING about dream weaving?"

"That sounds vaguely familiar."

"Altair gave you a lecture on it when you were young. You recall Arachna?"

"That's a legend," he croaked, aware of how pale he was turning. "Are you actually telling me that you learned dream weaving from the Arachna, and that's how we're talking?"

"Well you certainly didn't expect a telegram, did you?" William asked dryly, shaking his head. He pulled something from his desk drawer and motioned Desmond over, yanking his shirt up and bending him over the desk. Something cold and slimy touched his back, causing him to jump. "You are a fool, pup. And now because of your idiocy, our entire plan may backfire. Oh sure, you may escape one hell, but you may also land in another, one that's not nearly so kind. Marcella can be beaten because of her arrogance, but there are others that play the game much more cruelly." He recapped whatever it was he'd smeared on his back and replaced it. Desmond went back to where he'd been standing before.

He was silent for a long time. And then, when he finally did speak, it was in a very small voice. "Like Briarwood, you mean."

William felt his nails dig into his desk, his eyes close. The images flowed back to him, and he pressed down the nausea. They had saved Desmond from that hell, but at a great cost. Malik had lost his brother because of that place, and an arm as well. "Yes."

"Briarwood. Such a pretty poison... There is--"

"No cure for Briarwood. I'm aware, boy."

The shadows seemed to stretch and roar, William sighing tiredly as he rubbed his temples. "You must get out. By tonight. Find a way out of the Rings and run."

"Where to?"

"Hell itself, if you must. It would certainly keep the Queens from persuing you."

"And what of the Council? They'll be hounding you over it every step of the way."

William laughed, but it was dark and full of a mirth that was far from friendly. "Don't you worry about me, boy. I've played these games long enough to keep the old buzzards from coming near me. I just need you and your brothers back to me alive, you hear? That's your sole job from here on out. Survive, and return to me."

"As you wish, father."

"I wish very much, my own. Now go; the sun is on its way up, and you need the best head start you can manage."

The dream went foggy after that, and Desmond woke up feeling better than he had the night before. Tentatively, he reached back to touch the scars on his back, wondering how deep they were. Yet when his fingers touched down, there was nothing. No scars, no marks of any sort. A quick look at his brothers' backs revealed they didn't have any marks either. Which meant that the dream weaving had been real.

Connor grumbled when Desmond shook him awake, but quieted once Desmond told him what had happened. He woke Altair and Ezio after that, and together the four of them began discussing in quiet murmurs what needed to be done. Without a means of getting the Ring on their cocks off, they wouldn't get far, but perhaps that hadn't been what William had meant. Shaun and Rebecca were still somewhere inside these walls, which could possibly have been what William wanted them to see.

In order to break the walls, they needed to rouse the castle. And in order to do that, they needed to wake the Queen - which meant using Craft, and a lot of it.

That, they could do easily.

And so after a brief run over of the plan, Desmond called in his Grey jewels and broke every wall between them and the courtyard. Then Ezio picked him up, and the four of them took off running while the world around them began to scream.

Wow, I've never read this series, but this is amazing! I love the detail and how you seamlessly combine both worlds!

I want a spanking fic based on these
http://doubleleaf.deviantart.com/art/Discipline-II-360705340

http://doubleleaf.deviantart.com/art/discipline-161728905

Please?

seconded omfg

Of all the things he was used to having his enemies call him - savage, half breed, and other derogatory names - Connor had not expected Omega to be one of them. It wasn't that he was insulted by being called an Omega. It was how his enemies knew he was one, that bothered him more than the Randolph's appearance and abrupt departure after his ship had captured that Man-of-War.

Half a month ago, the Inner Circle had not even known the Assassins had risen from the ashes. From the informants that were killed and documents intercepted from Templar couriers over the years by he and his brothers; the enemy suspected that someone - some white hooded phantom - was outright causing them trouble. It was only when Connor had been caught and imprisoned that they must have began their investigation.

They knew his name (at least the one Achilles had given him), his mentor's involvement, and of his ties to the Sons of Liberty and the Patriots. It was possible that Lee knew much more from their memorable encounters.

"Are you alright, captain?"

Connor immediately stopped scowling and schooled his features into a blank mask. He wished he had changed into his Assassin robes as the crew prepared to disembark at the pier in New York. At least with the hood on, he could hide the dour looks on his face whenever he thought about Charles Lee.

"I am fine, Mister Faulkner," he lied smoothly.

The Aquila Captain knew his expression did not fool his first mate, who had mentored him in sailing ever since he was just a pup. However, he did not wish to disclose how the Templars had somehow managed to discover one - or possibly two - of the most intimate details about him. There was no doubt in his mind Faulkner would inform Achilles, and that would make life rather... difficult. His mentor was still upset and worried that he was rushing into marriage too quickly.

"Chin up, sir." Faulkner gave him a fatherly pat on the back before pointing. "Look who's here to greet us."

Speaking of marriage...

Everything is a blur as he drifts in and out of consciousness. Sometimes the man beside him is there, and sometimes he lays alone in bed. He smells clean cool air as it rids the room of the stench of male musk and sweat. He's so tired, that he can't even lift his limbs to defend himself as large hands roll him onto his stomach. A sigh of relief escapes passed his lips as a damp cloth gently wipes up and down his legs.

"Go to sleep, wife,' a disembodied voice commands

He closes his eyes once more.

Connor's breath hitched in his throat as he stepped down upon the docks. A couple yards away stood George Washington himself. Commander-in-Chief of the Continental Army. A symbol of the Patriot cause. Last but not least, Connor's fiancé whom he would be marrying within a month's time.

Surrounded by his entourage, Washington had not noticed him at first as was talking to the Lieutenant of the Belladonna; the ship they had escorted and rescued from a British fleet. However, it did not take long for those sky blue eyes to sweep over the crowds of people and single him out. With a warm smile, the Alpha turned his whole attention towards Connor, and reached out with one hand to beckon him close.

Before he even realized it, the Omega had left Faulkner's side without a word. That adoring azure gaze beckoned to him like a siren's call. Connor was already halfway to his destination, until he stopped abruptly as his Assassin instincts in.

He had to remember where he was and that the enemy could strike at him and Washington at any time; especially since they were in such close proximity to one another. Without thinking, the world shifted colors as he activated his second sight. Immediately, his hunter's eyes swept over the area and searched for any traces of glowing crimson among the crowds of white and blue. He was not surprised to that there were some red and pink blurs, but they did not gleam as bright as a Templar would.

What did surprise the half-native, was by how much blue there was around Washington. Most were all Patriot soldiers, whom he fought along side in certain battles. But there were other individuals in the crowds who glowed just as intensely as Washington himself. Switching back to his normal vision, Connor recognized two of his brothers - Jacob and Jamie - dressed in patriot blue uniforms, flanking the Commander-in-Chief.

He was both comforted and anxious to see them. Although he kept his gaze forward, his eyes continued to scan and he spotted the other four recruits - all in uniform - stationed on rooftops. What were they all doing here? He wondered and began walking once more as his beloved gave him a look of concern when the Omega had gone motionless.

"Commander," he greeted formally and stopped at a respectable distance from the older man who smiled at him once more.

"Connor." The warmth in his beloved's voice brought an unseen seat to the said young captain's face. "Welcome back. It seems we are in your debt once again."

Washington reached out with one hand to warmly clasp his shoulder in camaraderie, for the sake of appearances. However, the Assassin could feel the tension in the Alpha's fingers and the desire to draw him closer. He is both dismayed and relieved that his fiancé restrains himself from showing his affections. As much as he would want nothing more to have those arms embrace him; their intimate relationship was a closely guarded secret from the public. The Commander and Master Assassin knew they already had Templar targets painted above their heads; neither of them wished to fathom the consequences, if their enemies were to discover their forthcoming marriage.

Sounds awesome! I think I'll try my hand at it.

Glad you like it! ^^ You should check it out, Anne Bishop isn't the best writer around, but she has her strong points. Like the OP said, some of the characters are a little on the Mary/Gary Sue side, but most of them are okay, and the story is intriguing.

BLOODY HELL, WHY HAS NO ONE COMMENTED ON THIS BEAUTIFUL FILL?

One of the things I really love in this, is that there is a build-up, and it's not just 'HEAT, NOW SEX'.
I love how the Brotherhood accepts Omegas, but still keeps them 'hidden', so as to make sure everyone is treated with equality.

Even if he is only mentioned in passing, I still hate Abbas..

Eagerly looking forward to part 2!

Holy shit.
I just made a fic similar to this last night, at least in the beginning anyway.
NOW I MUST MAKE A FULL VERSION OF THIS SCENE. The idea won't leave me now. D': ilu OP. And those pics are so damn hot and sexyyyy ffff yess (this writer!anon will try their hardest to fill your request.) Anything else you want other than spanking? A smex scene or just leave it at that with some good ol'-fashioned discipline?

Thank you! I didn't get any responses in nearly rwo weeks, I was considering dropping it because I thought it was horrible. ^^" Knowing there's at least someone reading it boosts my confidence a little.

Abbas is kind of an asshole and I hate him with a passion, haha. But there will be more of him, that's for sure.

I love how it looks like Ezio and Connor likes it!
Doubleleaf's art is amazing.

DEFIANTLY WANT THIS

::Clutches heart:: Got me right in the FEELS anon! I'm kind of afraid of what happens to Connor next, and what Haytham will do to him or have done to him ::bites nails::

Please update soon!

~~P.S. also hopes there will be some HaythCon action~~

Not OP, but I think this is very promising so far! I like the small touches, like Haytham's perceptiveness and Charles' paranoia. Looking forward to reading more! <3

- Kaeleer -

William Miles leaned back tiredly, rubbing the bridge of his nose in a feeble attempt to rid himself of the coming migraine he felt. So much of the rebellion's plans had already fallen through the cracks - most of the reasons behind them due related to spy networks Marcella had taken over after she'd had the last Queen of Hayll raped and killed in her own bedroom. And now, to add one more log to the fire, Desmond was under Marcella's control as well. But that didn't mean they were out of options. No one within the Realm of Light was truly aware that there were three powerful Warlord Prince brothers walking among the courts, circling one another like familiar vultures over the same carcass. They all saw Altair and Ezio, and saw danger. They looked at Connor, and saw danger. And then they looked at Desmond and laughed. Because Desmond, who had grown up being thrown from one court to the next, playing the part of the whore and the slave, had learned to play the game better than his brothers, despite being the youngest of them all. He had seen Briarwood, the prettiest of all poisons, and walked the path of the Twisted Kingdom for nearly five years before he had straightened himself out.

Marcella had wanted power, and now she had it. William knew thought that without the bonds of loyalty made between Queens and their warriors, she would never get that power. Especially not from Desmond, who among the three was unbound to any and all outside sources. He held loyalty to no one and nothing -- and that made him much more dangerous than the other three, who were married or at least betrothed in Connor's case. The Rings Marcella had put on them would hinder them only so long as Desmond allowed the game to play itself out. But once his temper reached the breaking point, and Marcella began to demand more, William knew nothing in the world would stop him from freeing himself and his brothers. Especially since the only one who wore a darker Jewel than Desmond was Altair, and Altair usually went along with whatever Desmond did - they were similar in that regard, unlike Altair and Ezio, who usually ended up bickering.

So while Desmond dealt with Marcella and her upset throne, William would force the Dark Council back, giving his sons plenty of room for a killing field should they need it. It wouldn't be easy, especially now that Vidic was on the Council, but William hadn't spent the last few years playing puppeteer to his sons just to get his strings cut. Besides, it had been a long while since he'd let his darker side out; it might turn out to be a decent challenge once he aired his birthright Jewel a bit and let them get a taste of what he was.

Everything his sons were had come from him, after all, and just like with cloning, the original was always superior to the copy. By the time he was through with the Dark Council, they would have learned to fear him and his sons all in one fell swoop - perhaps even long enough for him to die in peace and Desmond to take over. Smiling, William dug into his desk for a sheet of paper and began to write to Haytham.

The Darkness knew the other man would love a chance to tussle with the figureheads behind his Queen's recent distress. And if William could pull the strings to make such an opportunity arise, well then who could say what might happen?

-------

- Terreille -

It had taken the bitch Queen all of fifteen minutes to realize her four most prized possessions had flown the coop, and another twenty to capture them. Desmond had jokingly asked if they should sit down and play Go-Fish while they waited for the guards to show up and drag them back. Connor had shaken his head while Ezio had laughed, Altair rolling his eyes in exasperation. In the end, they had decided to simply wait and talk about what had gone on. There was a lot of catching up to do, especially with Desmond, since they hadn't seen him since Briarwood. The subject was still sore, and they mentioned it only in passing to keep Desmond's blood pressure rising any higher than necessary.

It had gone from quiet conversations to snuggling, and that was when the guards had found them and dragged them back. Desmond hadn't put up a fight like he could have, instead just smiling lazily and walking right along, all the way back to the Queen's castle and up to the throne room where the bitch herself sat. Except she wasn't alone; it seemed Shaun and Rebecca were with her, as were several of her coven. They quickly swarmed like flies once the four of them were brought back inside, creating a circle around them to view them from as Marcella's eyes grew dark with rage.

"So, how did your little escape plan work? I'm guessing you all got a good dose of pain from my Ring."

They had. The entire time they had run and talked, the Ring had been squeezing harder and harder down on their cocks, causing them to wince and even miss a step on occasion. None of them had said anything, but it had been there. Desmond just shrugged, eyes on Shaun and Rebecca. Shaun was speaking with his eyes, and the message was clear - they only needed to play the game for a few more precious moments before they could unleash Hell.

Marcella clearly was not happy at being ignored, because she snapped her fingers and the guards behind him gripped his arms and shoved him down to the ground, jerking back slightly when he snarled at them softly in warning. The bitch was hardly impressed, and rose from her throne to come closer. Desmond realized she had yet to change out of the sheer gown from earlier - probably still hoping one of them would break. If this game was truly in its final stages, that meant only one of them needed to play the bitch, and Desmond could easily do that in his sleep. So he relaxed, letting himself take in Marcella disgusting scent as if he craved it, and used his psychic energy to weave a seduction spell around her, urging her to strip him and use him for her pleasure as she saw fit. The coven would watch and see where he belonged. His brothers would watch and learn from their mistakes. They would desire as he did, and she would have what she wanted.

The spell was well-woven, not easy to get out of. He heard Ezio suck in a breath as he felt the spell caress their bodies as well, slipping past them and onto the guards, and then further, onto the coven itself. Within moments he had the entirety of the room under his spell, save for him, Rebecca, Shaun and his brothers, who watched and played the game.

Smelling the Queen's arousal, Desmond tilted his head just slightly, and lowered his voice, making it husky, bedroom hungry. "Is there something you want, my Queen?"

Oh yes, how well he could play the game. He felt Ezio's shudder of revulsion, heard Altair's little noise of surprise and saw Connor's eyes widen slightly. Connor hadn't been around when Desmond had gone to Briarwood, and had heard only rumors. None of them had seen him in action, not like this. None of them had heard the pet name assigned to him through the various courts he had served; they didn't know that he had brought pleasure to women while tearing them apart inside and out, planting little bombs in them designed to go off as soon as they left the bedroom. All they saw was their little brother acting like a whore, drawing the room in like a net of flies before a spider.

Marcella made a tiny sound that registered as want in Desmond's mind. He upped the spell just slightly, teasing her with images of him, tied down in her grasp, surrendering to her while she rode him. Then, to add the cherry on top, he showed her later in the vision, belly swelling with his child, being loved and adored by all. And that was all it took. Faster than anyone could move, she was by him in an instant, grabbing his hair and forcing his head up for a brutal kiss. He accepted it passively, forcing down nausea and telling himself it was for the good of his brothers and the rebellion. He had fucked up by getting himself caught - it was time to make up for that. A little sacrifice before victory, after all.

"Yes," Marcella breathed, ripping at the little clothing remaining on his body, exposing him before them all. The coven drew in tighter, wanting eyes and hands beginning to move. Desmond smiled and relaxed, spreading his legs willingly. A silent offer for Marcella to take all that he was - if she thought she could handle it.

Clearly, she was arrogant enough to believe she could. Not that it mattered - the spell was doing its job, inciting hostile lust among the mass within the hall. In a few moments, the males would turn rabid, and the females hungry. They would crave and want and crack, and then they would find themselves in agony as reality would sink in. The males would use their bodies for their own dark enjoyment, and the females would bleed and run and be caught and raped, slowly dying as the guards became more and more insane, until at long last only Marcella herself was left.

And she would suffer. Desmond had made sure of that. The spell would heal her wounds while she was attacked, making it impossible for her to die until the spell wore off. At with the potency he'd packed into it, Desmond could easily say that it would take at least two days for it to stop, for the guards to regain enough of themselves to pull away from the ruined body that was their Queen. Her power would be shattered, as she was still a virgin, for all her attempts to use them as pleasure slaves, and Hayll's reign would come to an abrupt end. The rebellion would still happen, but he and his brothers would not be here when it did.

Whimpering moans, quiet at first, and then louder began to sound. Desmond grinned and purred, hands reaching out to draw the Queen to him. She didn't resist, pushing him onto his back and reaching down to stroke his cock, trying one last time to get it up, to have what she so desperately wanted. As the last coherent thought in her head, Desmond decided to humor her, and created an illusion. One that fulfilled her every desire, starting with sex and ending with her eternal devotion. None of it would be real, of course, but she would feel as if it were, right up until the guards caught and raped her to death.

Only then would the cold grip of reality sink back in, and she would discover just how dangerous it was to tangle with the Incubus.

It’ll be good for Clipper to see Charles. Once the words Assassin and Templar lost all meaning, the two had taken to each other quickly.

LOL! I knew they'd get a long, as respectful subordinates to their mentors. Oh boy, as if Charles and Connor did not have enough to worry about with being sent back in time to stopping mad king George; but now they have to deal with relationship problems on the side... poor jealous Connor (it would serve Charles right if in fact George had wanted Connor to) ...but uh-oh if the recruits remember, will that mean George will have as well?

http://berunov.tumblr.com/post/45799912077/but-i-have-seen-what-happens-to-those-who-do

This was basically what I thought of when Ziio spoke to Ratonhnhaké:ton about the Red Willow and Tea.

I don't care if Haytham is a Templar or an Assassins in this (though in the picture he is an Assassins), that's up to writer!Anon, I'd just really like to see this!

If writer!Anon wants to make a longer fill/need more plot ideas, maybe Haytham survived the ordeal? But was tormented by or couldn't control whatever spirit he saw in the Sky World? Maybe he met Ratonhnhaké:ton later on who helped him?

Thank you! :D Well, that makes me feel better, that I'm doing maybe something right. xD I wasn't sure if anyone liked this story or if I should continue it, but now I will try to get the next part up soon thanks to your encouragement c:

The mentors do know their pupils better than anyone else. It makes sense that they'd be able to tell right off the bat when something isn't right.

Nooo! Argh I feel so ashamed for not seeing this earlier! ; A ; Writer!Anon forgive me! It's beautiful!

Anon, thank you for commenting on this fill other wise I would have never found it! ; ^ ; *hugs*

I gave Haytham enhanced speed and agility, as in Celtic culture and mythology (and still fairly relevant in even modern Britain) the fox was thought to represent quick-footedness and grace (as well as intelligence and cunning).

I apologise if this was not what you wanted, anon.

"I'm sorry," Haytham murmurs. It is a mantra, Ziio fears quite possibly the only thing keeping him sane. The tears fall from his eyes with barely a hitched breath, and the only thing she can do is hold him and wait. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Ziio."

"It is fine. It was not you," she replies soothingly, stroking his hair. She is lying, it is not fine at all. He had been so angry, so very angry and she had been so very, very scared.

After taking the tea, after gaining the power to move faster than the human eye could comprehend, he had started to change. It was almost unnoticeable at first, but as he used the power of the fox more and more, he became snappish and withdrawn, easily angered, his moods changing constantly. She'd thought she could overlook it, that everything would be all right until they were safe and this war ended. She had been wrong.

It had been a stupid argument, about whose turn it was to fetch firewood or something,and he had complained of a headache and she had laughed and he had snapped and in less than a second he had moved thirty feet and pinned her against a tree by the neck and it was not Haytham in his eyes but an animal. She had choked, and just as her vision had begun to blur he had released her, horrified at what he had just done, at how he had changed since his spirit journey.

"No, no, it isn't, I'm sorry," he chokes. "I-- I didn't-- I love you."

"And I love you, too," Ziio replies. This is true. She loves Haytham, but not the fox-spirit corrupting him. She hopes his work will be done before the damage is irreparable. Although, to be frank, she knows in her heart that it is probably already too late.

He clutches at her furs desperately, and she feels his tears soaking through to her skin.

"You shouldn't be around me," he manages, between heaving sobs that wrack his body. "Too dangerous."

"It is not you," Ziio says, and she feels like crying too. "It is the tea."

It's a long few minutes before Haytham composes himself enough to speak.

"I'm slipping, Ziio," he says, sounding desperate. He wipes his eyes and takes deep breaths and doesn't look at her face. "I can feel myself fading and something else taking my place."

"I would never have allowed you to take the tea if I had known what it would do to you," Ziio murmurs.

Haytham says nothing, but gives her a firmer embrace.

"Does your head still hurt?" Ziio asks, softly.

"Everything hurts nowadays," Haytham replies, sounding exhausted. "Head, stomach, lungs..."

"I love you," Ziio tries again. Haytham places a gentle hand on her half-swollen belly, and kisses her cheek.

"I love you too."

That's probably the reason she wakes up the next morning all alone, with Haytham's belongings gone. It doesn't make this inevitable turn of events hurt any less, but she manages to kid herself for a whole morning that he'll come back, that he's not going to die or lose himself completely.

She vows that she will never let their child throw their sanity away with the red tea. That she will not lose the last remnant of Haytham she has left. That she will protect this child with her life if need be because she is its mother and she loves it.

.....my new OTP

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