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

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Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt. 5

Assassin's Creed Kink Meme pt.5
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"I suppose they are leaving me chained..." Connor said to break the silence, his erection having decreased, but not enough to make it justifiable.
"At least you can sit for now, your limbs are bound, but just enough that you cannot lift them over your hips when you stand..." Haytham could not remove his eyes from his son's erection, his own throbbing between his thighs. The goosebumps and warmth from his aphrodisiac had not subsided, maybe even grown, at Washington's absence, and the shame was overwhelming.
Connor slowly sat, his brown eyes avoiding Haytham's gaze. He knew mentioning it would open the door for Haytham to question why he became hard to begin with. The two sat in near silence for over an hour before guards returned with food. The two servings were near identical, though Connor had an even darker tea than Haytham, as though more herbs were used. The guards unlocked Connor's cuffs and he rubbed his wrists and ankles to return the blood flow to his hands and feet. They left in a hurry, whispering about a party and news, but nothing more of note they could decipher.
Connor immediately grasped both sets of greens on their plates, tossing them out the barred window. Haytham looked with uncertainty at Connor's tea as he lifted his own to sip at it. "He is giving you my diet...That, means he has plans for you. The fights clearly get to you, but perhaps he enjoys this way of breaking men more..." Haytham sipped at his tea again, a bit unsure of his own motivation. He was concerned for Connor, but also consumed with curiosity at how ferocious his boy would be after drinking that strong tea.
"His chuckling and his...actions..." Connor said as a chill of disgust interrupted him, "I already suspected." Connor took a few begrudging bites of bread. The food was bad overall, but having that much of the slop was so much more than he had been receiving.
Regardless of how much he enjoyed getting closer to full, he felt like a whore. Connor glanced down at the forest green tea on his tray. He felt guilt crawl down his neck, knowing Haytham would have the better idea of true sexual shame. The man had no right to feel so much shame he thought, but besides his father's sleepy misbehavior, Connor was entirely virginal. His inexperience made all of this the more serious, it made his cock throb with a different kind of need and his shame hit a different nerve, yet he would not allow himself to consider his lot worse than Haytham's. He took a few small sips and then returned to chewing at the stale bread.
Connor had savored his slop stew, Haytham eventually falling asleep on the pallet under their thin blanket. Connor continued to stare into his tea, occasionally taking cautious sips, fear welling in his gut at the warmth spreading between his legs. He licked his bowl clean and washed it down with the tea. Yawning and feeling his lids weighing, Connor moved beside Haytham, laying to provide the elder warmth, or so he would have sworn.
Connor's lids pursed before opening to confused slits as he awoke from a pleasant dream. There was a nice feeling, a strange feeling. Haytham's hand was moving slowly up and down his naked shaft. His soft breathing let Connor know he was still asleep, and had somehow pulled Connor's length free while they both dreamt.
His breathing hitched, it was so much better than the other times Haytham had tried to touch him while in a horny haze. He had not actually touched Connor's flesh in his sleep before, and his son was already so needy from the aphrodisiac and what he had witnessed Haytham do earlier, that it was hard to move. Connor audibly moaned, believing he should stop it, feeling it should be easy, but the pleasure stopped him in his tracks. He could not stop thinking about how good it felt before when Haytham touched him in the past, how he denied the extreme pleasure for his sanity, but knowing how wrong it was with Haytham made it inexplicably hotter to be getting off in his hand.
He pushed his hips forward, allowing Haytham's attentive hand to have more access. Connor moved his hips, Haytham's hand moving faster as he sighed with pleasure in his sleep. Soft hums and pleasurable noises escaped Haytham with each breath, the sound almost like music to Connor's sensitive ears.
Connor's strong right arm wrapped around Haytham, pulling him close. Haytham's breath hitched, his hand opening and releasing Connor's erection, his subconscious afraid he had done something wrong like always seems to be the case with Washington.
The younger man inhaled deeply, Haytham's scent still distinctly his, despite the filth and sweat that always seemed to coat his skin. Without any punishment to sway him, Haytham's hand returned to its soft ministrations of Connor. A quiet gasp slipped from Connor's lips when Haytham returned to touching him. He left some room between his groin and Haytham's back, for his father's hand to touch him with more freedom. However, he could not let him go. He had to hold the man close, take in his smell, listen to his breath. It was more than the aphrodisiac, there was a part of him that wanted Haytham close to him. More than that, he wanted to offer his father comfort too, and only after having the strong tea did he understand exactly what was driving him.
A rough hand gently played with Haytham's hair, lost in the sensations between his legs. Small changes in Haytham's breath spurred him forward, his fingertips dancing down Haytham's neck, and then feeling his chest and the scars that littered his abdomen. Lovingly he traced the healed scars, many he had washed and tended to with his own hands.
After caring for Haytham in the ways he had, there was even more of a possessiveness he had for the man. Connor did not expect his father to feel so good against his body. He could not use him, or at least, in the ways all those men had. He could not resist him any longer either, but should Haytham wake and want it to stop, Connor would not think twice.
There were goosebumps soon left in the wake of his fingers as he felt his father's lower back and hips. The bone jutted farther from his body than it should have, but it added to Haytham's current state of femininity. Though he would never admit to the elder man, Connor found it oddly attractive, the still firmness of his ass and thighs, the softness of much of his body which was once calloused or rough.
Even if it were wrong, there could be nothing worse one could do to Haytham now. The soft caresses and knowing touches brought him sweet dreams. There was a warm fire, Ziio raking her nails down his chest, nuzzling his neck.
"Please..." Haytham whispered to her, crystal eyes hopeful and wanting as they gazed with longing at his lover who sat on a bearskin rug beside his half naked frame.
"Please...?" She asked with mock confusion, her nails tracing lower and lower on his abdomen with each sweep, but still avoiding the growing mass between his legs, just barely dipping under his britches with her most recent caresses. Haytham moaned, his hips bucking at the touch, a soft, almost yelp of protest as she avoided his most sensitive area. She smirked as she carefully undid his belt, taking ages on the button.
"Please..." he whispered again, more of a whine to his voice, his brows furrowing upward, the teasing feeling good, but his need more powerful than he could remember. In his haze he closed his eyes, the warmth of the fire comforting him as he felt himself freed from his painfully constricting pants. Soft chuckles died in her chest as her fingertips barely touched the shaft, tickling upward with their tracing.
"Oh yes!" He moaned, her soft chuckles quieting as his cock twitched and bobbed with need.

Then the soft, knowing chuckles returned, but the voice was deeper, the chills created by this different voice almost painful. He opened his eyes, the cabin surrounding him, the hot fire still kissing the air. His body was still partially nude on the plush, dark rug, but there was a body holding his, one that felt larger, and stronger, rather than smaller like Ziio's.
Looking down, he saw a tanned, strong hand teasing him, his pants at his knees. Part of him wanted to ask what was going on, scream maybe, wasn't Ziio just here? However, he felt so warm, so nice, it had to be right?
That deep chuckle vibrated against his ear again and he melted into the frame holding him, "Connor..." he moaned softly, leaning his head back and exposing his neck. Sweet, almost healing kisses were placed on his neck, moving down to his shoulder, and back up again. Haytham opened his mouth with pleasure, sinking further into the strong, native man who held him as though no one would hold him again.
Searching fingers moved like feathers across his inner thighs, the crease that met his groin, and all around his sack. Light, teasing fingers traced up the front of his shaft again, finally making their way to his reddening tip.
"Oh..." he heard Connor moan into his ear as the man felt how wet Haytham had gotten from his exploration of his body. Wet fingertips danced down his shaft, spreading the wetness before grasping him with uncertainty.
"Yes..." Haytham gasped, wanton need in his hushed tones. His hips began to move without him knowing it, soon meeting the pumping rhythm. Soon he vividly felt a hardness against his back, something he was eventually bouncing off of as he sought the sweet touches.
As he began to focus more on the hardness pressing against him, how large it was, how good it felt to bounce, he began to remember why he had a sudden like for things like that, he became shaken from his dream, and tired eyes opened to the haze that was their current reality. His body ached, the floor was hard and cold despite the blanket beneath him. There was an arm wrapped around him, and the warm, strong frame that held him close was still just as warm and inviting.
The pleasure he dreamt of was still happening to his surprise, his mouth agape as Connor's fingers rolled against Haytham's tip. No one had touched him like this in so long, for more than a few seconds of sweetness, he ached for this. He cursed himself for not caring that it was Connor, and the more he thought about the touches, the more it turned him on that it was in fact his son causing him such delight.
"Ah!" Haytham blurted when Connor began to rub him up and down again, pumping him with slow strokes. His son still believed him asleep as he continued to just barely hump against Haytham's curved ass.
"That's right..." Connor rasped deeply into Haytham's ear, sudden, sharp shivers shaking him to his core. He could hear the need in his son's voice, and the rumble was something he would have equated to a mountain lion in depth.
Haytham was no longer stroking Connor. That had stopped quite a while earlier, well before he woke. That did not concern the boy. It was Haytham's pleasure he was concerned with, though he could not prevent himself from unconscious, wanton humping.
Feeling a man pressing against his ass would normally make him ill, but Haytham only wanted more, and not in a purely physical way. He cursed himself again before curving his spine, pressing his ass back into the soft movements his son was making.
"O-oh..." Connor moaned, his hand jacking Haytham faster, his moistened palm like silk to Haytham every time he touched the sensitive head.
Haytham was lost in the sensation, surprisingly with no tinges of shame or disgust ruining his only escape. He soon could not contain his moans and gasps, his head moving left and right with need, it becoming clearer and clearer to Connor that Haytham was conscious.
"It's okay Haytham..." Connor whispered, his husky voice echoing in Haytham's mind as he drifted more into the touches, "Shhh... It's okay...." As he pumped, he made sure to put more focus on the tip with his thumb, rubbing small circles every time he neared it, "I'll make it feel good...you deserve to feel good..." Haytham mewed with need, his gasps almost like a woman's as he humped with abandon into his son's hand. Without realizing it, he nuzzled his head against Connor, the rest of his body cuddling as the pleasure washed over him, for the first time without serious pain or punishment attached in longer than he could remember.
Battered hands reached for something, anything to grip. Connor offered the hand of the arm he was laying on to Haytham's left, then letting Haytham cock go for the shortest of moments as he guided Haytham's right hand to his hair. Haytham almost cried at the loss of sensation, Connor nuzzling the back of his neck as he returned to touching, trying to reassure Haytham as the man's fingers became lost in ebony locks.
He gripped Connor's hand, then releasing in shame, but Connor gripped him back harder, his tongue then tracing the shell of Haytham's ear, "Squeeze me, it's okay Haytham....You're safe for now," Haytham then squeezed Connor's hand with all the need and emotion he had been holding onto.
"Yes...shh..." Connor said in as much of a comforting tone as he could, trying to hide his unconcealable lust.
Haytham moaned, still quiet enough they would not be heard, but loud enough to send chills straight to Connor's cock. The man continued to push against Connor's arousal, moaning at their contact despite the thin cloth that still covered Connor at least.
"Shit..." Connor exclaimed under his breath, shaken by how aroused his was, his tip moving between Haytham's globes with his each of their met thrusts. His hand moved fast on the hard flesh that had Haytham in such a trance, Connor feeling his father twitching and growing harder as he humped with need.
"I...I..." Haytham muttered with sheepish, almost confused tones, "I..." His fingers knotted themselves in Connor's hair, fingers shaking as his nails dug into Connor's hand.
"Yes...you can cum Haytham...Cum Haytham..." Connor moaned into Haytham's ear. The sharpness of his 'C' on each word made them sharper to Haytham's ears, made it feel like a command, one he finally wanted to obey if he was fully honest with himself.
"Ooohh..." Haytham gasped, his mouth freezing open as he tried to stay the sound. Connor pumped Haytham up and down, maintaining his speed and increasing his grip, the tip of his thumb tickling the underside of Haytham's head with each thrust.
Haytham's body began to contort against Connor's, twitching and shaking like he had never seen. Then, he finally began to release; stream after stream of hot need escaping Haytham as his muscles contracted with orgasm. Connor's pumping slowed, making sure his father was complete before he let go. He immediately began wiping the cum from Haytham's softening member, as well as from his belly.
More than anything, he wanted Haytham comfortable. Haytham slumped against Connor, panting and shivering like a virgin in his grasp. His mind became less hazy, and he began trying to formulate a way to put this entirely on Connor, to explain that he was still dreaming...but Connor's strong grasp never wavered, and Haytham could not help but cuddle into his warmth. The waves of pleasure still pulsated over Haytham's body, something he rarely got to enjoy when he was made to orgasm by Washington or the guards.
When Connor sat up, loosening his grip on Haytham, the man tensed, ready for an awkward conversation, ready for the venom he so readily spat at others to come from his son's lips. Instead, Connor reached for a bowl of water, bringing it carefully to Haytham, continuing to hold it steady as Haytham sat up weakly to sip with thirst he barely registered he was suffering from.
Being treated with such kindness was all around foreign, no one ever tending to him except his own father. He could feel that Connor was still erect, likely painfully so, against him, but the boy moved not a centimeter. He showed respect Haytham had not even believed could have been instilled in him, and for the boy to not be inspired by the men who continued to brutalize him... Haytham began to cry.
The tears were mostly silent, but his body shook so noticeably that Connor immediately held him tightly, letting his legs spoon under Haytham's, "I will get you out of here. It will be over soon Haytham..." Connor whispered sweetly, sweeping hair from Haytham's face, using the back of his hand to dry his father's cheek. He gripped the hand that consoled him, holding Connor against his cheek as tears continued to pour from his eyes. It was Connor's fault, being so kind, touching him with consideration if he had to touch him, and even before now, restoring his sanity, Haytham was admittedly overwhelmed.
This is the man who killed him, yet Haytham forced his hand, this is the man who has seen him at his worst, and still hopes for and remembers his best. All Haytham wanted was to disappear into his embrace, and after another twenty minutes he did just that, drifting back into a sweet slumber as Connor caressed him into a stupor.

That would be a spectacular mess if ever they remember their past lives.

So would all the Assassins that Desmond visit in the Animus have the same deamon name? Wouldn't that make it extremely weird for Haytham and Conner?

Third!

Maybe next time he will go as Ezio, who has the right number of fingers to pull it off.

This is also on AO3 under the username Dragonfire13
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She had been out hunting, that was what saved her, but not her son. Him and the other children had returned to the village from playing saying they had seen strangers in the woods. She would later be told that Ratonhnhaké:ton had been attacked by a man called Charles Lee, and she knows that name. Haytham worked with him, and she curses their names at night, curses that she had ever met him, but then she stops. Is she had never met him, she would never have had Ratonhnhaké:ton for the short time that she had.

Kaniehtí:io remembers running into the village the rabbits, and fox she caught dropped and forgotten as she heard the voice that will always haunt her for years to come. “ISTA!” Ratonhnhaké:ton screamed and she felt her heart stop at the desperation in his voice. She runs through the flames, pushing aside burning wood, ignoring the pain in her hands and feet as she moved closer and closer to Ratonhnhaké:ton’s screams. She sees him then, trapped between a burning wall and a large piece of wood that he couldn’t move. “Ista!” He cries again as he pushes.

“Ratonhnhaké:ton!” Kaniehtí:io calls and watches as his hands turned and saw her. The look of hope, and happiness at finding each other lasted for a few moments, as she ran closer, before a loud creaking noise could be heard over head. The roof caved in, flames burning around it and all she could do was watch and scream as her son was buried and burned alive. “Ratonhnhaké:ton!” Kaniehtí:io screamed but knew that he was already gone. She still tried to dig through the flames and only stopped when she was dragged away.

His last word “Ista!” would echo in her head for days, weeks, months, and years. Starting when she and other villagers dug through the rubble and uncovered his broken, burned, and very much dead body out days later. Ratonhnhaké:ton’s body was curled into a tiny ball, his hands holding tightly to the journal she had taken from Haytham, as if it could save him. All Kaniehtí:io could do was hold his broken body, and scream, while making the promise to kill whoever did this, whoever took her son from her.

Kaniehtí:io would later read the whole journal for any information, before burying it alongside her son. She hopes that wherever he is, his happy and not in pain.
---------------
It takes Kaniehtí:io a few years and a journey with a spirit to find who will help her. His name is Achilles and she can see he has given up all hope, and is waiting for death. She, her understands the feeling, but she must do this before she can see her son once again. When he tells her to leave, tells her he won’t train her, and to go away. She refuses.

She is there in the trees, walking the old paths, hunting, and then fighting when a group of men come to rob the place. Finally he lets her in, agrees to listen to her story, and doesn’t say a word when she chokes and tells him about Ratonhnhaké:ton, her tears as she tells him, Ratonhnhaké:ton burned . He agrees to train her after that, without much of a problem and starts to tell her about who the Assassins are, and what they do or use to do anyways.

She will later find out after a few years of training and on the day of Ratonhnhaké:ton’s death that Achilles once had a child named Connor who died of illness. Then of the Brotherhood that came before, the Brotherhood who were like a family to him and some like his own children. He tells her of Shay and how although he had been right, he still killed them all.
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Killing her first Templar didn’t give her the satisfaction as she thought it would, but she did feel a little bit of the weight on her shoulders raise and leave as she marked a large X over the painting.
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Watching Haytham she says nothing at first, her jaw tightening slightly as he glances at her again . Finally she says “We have a son.” She can’t help but feel a little satisfaction when Haytham chokes and turns to look at her eyes wide, and not looking at all how he usually looks. “What?” He asks.

“We.” She begins slowly “Have. A. Son.”

Haytham just stares at her for a moment longer before saying “What is his name?” and she can see him doing the math in his head to figure out just how old Ratonhnhaké:ton is. Or would be if he had ever passed the age of 4. Kaniehtí:io stares at him in silence as if testing him with her eyes before finally saying “His name is Ratonhnhaké:ton.”

“Ragoonhkton?”

“Ratonhnhaké:ton.” She says again and can’t help but roll her eyes as Haytham tries again. “Ra-doon-ha-ge-doon.” After a few tries she can’t help but be a little impressed when he managed to finally say his name correctly.

“May I meet him?” Haytham asked after a few moments and wonders to himself how he would deal with a full grown son, who most likely knew nothing about him. Her eyes became hard and cold as they were when they first came face to face hours again, and she hissed “No.”

Haytham paused, not wanting to fight again, but also he had a right to see his own son. “Ziio, I know there are difference between us, I know I lied to you, but he is also my son. I have a right to at least meet him, and he can decide if he wishes to see me more or not.”

“Meeting or even seeing him is impossible.” Ziio told him and watched the confusion appear on his face, before she says “Ratonhnhaké:ton is dead.” Haytham froze and just stared at her, the plans that were already forming in his mind about his son, were destroyed. “I-I am sorry, Ziio.” His words were filled with the truth he was sorry the boy had died, and the hope of meeting him was also gone.

“He died in front of me. I watched as he burned because of Charles Lee.” She snarled now, ignoring the way Haytham froze, rage falling into her words. The look of shock on his face can be seen as she growls “On your orders, Lee came and beat my son, before he burned my village and my son. And you're sorry!”

“I did not give any order of the sort! My orders were to leave you and your people alone .” Haytham quickly tries to explain and she can’t tell if he’s lying , but she also doesn’t care. The Templar order will all die.

Author anon will have the first part of a fill up soon!!

A very… Strange letter came to Haytham one lovely autumn morning. It was a letter from his son – unusual as when his Assassin-sided son wished to communicate with him. The younger Kenway sought him out and they spoke face to face. This was for a number of reasons, some of them dealing with the fact that finding a courier that could be trusted enough to carry and deliver mail without it being intercepted as they were the leaders of the Templars and Assassins in the area was nearly impossible. There was also the fact that both of them were highly mobile people and the chance of one of the missing a letter of import was fairly high, depending on the intensity of certain situations, and the progression of plans.

But he did have several previous letters from his son, for which Haytham was grateful, as it allowed the Templar Grand Master to see whether or not the sender of this bizarre letter was his son, or simply someone claiming to be such to draw him into a trap. Haytham went over every inch of those letters - with his normal vision and his second sight - and the Grand Master found the handwriting to identical. Either there was a very clever forger with unknown intentions or... His son had actually written this letter. If the latter was true, the colonial Grand Master did not know whether or not to take the news at face value... Or that Connor was desperately trying to tell him something, but Haytham could not decipher the code that the young Mentor was using.

In any event, it took the Englishman a few days to prepare to head to New York - where the... Event that Connor wrote to him about was to take place. He informed his people of where he was going and why, forestalling the congratulatory words from the others by telling them of his concerns, and gave them instructions on what to do and whom to contact, should he go missing, or his correspondence with them change suddenly or cease without warning.

The silver haired Templar was uncertain as to whether or not he would prefer his son to have actually... Was close to being married to someone in the letter Connor had written, as it was obvious by the way it was written that his son was very, very much in love with, or if he would prefer the other to be in considerable danger because of - or perhaps threatened by - the man his son professed to be engaged to. Perhaps Connor's beloved was in possession of a Piece of Eden and had gained control of New York by using it's terrible power, and a letter like that was the only way the young Assassin could get any correspondence of any kind through to someone who could help him deal with the situation, and not be instantly snared in the grasp and the power of the Piece of Eden...

Or his son truly was hopelessly besotted by George fucking Washington and the two of them were going to be happily married to one another... Although how the sly general had manage to win his naive son's heart... Somehow... And he, Haytham was jumping to all sorts of conclusions or was thinking of only the worst possible situations. As... As unlikely as it might be (Or rather, as unspeakably strange and irritating) the latter option could be... The latter could simply tiding of - and an invitation to - Connor's wedding to a man that Haytham did not get along with well at all for a number of reasons. He should have told Connor sooner as to who had been the one to order the British soldiers to burn down his village, but Haytham had been gathering evidence to show Connor, rather than making the accusation without any proof whatsoever.

But if the letter was true, and Connor was marrying the man - be it for love, or for the fact that the British were losing steadily and it was quite likely that if the Patriots did win the war, whatever system of governance they did come up with, Washington would likely either end up as the head of state or very close to it, and marrying such a person would potentially allow Connor to bend the man's ear, so as to better protect his people and the other native tribes who were likely to be very, very hard hit once their usefulness in the fight against the British had dried up... Leaving the settlers low on goods and other services once the British stopped sending their wares. It would be part of a tactic to try to break the fledgling nation, and after a few decades of struggle and misery, the British would likely attempt an invasion and retaking of the colonies on some pretext... Likely through the northern colonies of Canadia who, as a whole, had refused to participate n the rebellion.

Perhaps, if Connor was entering this union willingly and of sound mind, it was partially a symbolic gesture to the native tribes - one of the most influential of the rebel leaders marrying a native (half-native but few seemed aware of this fact) of a desire to work more closely with them and to share the land, rather than taking all they could and slaughtering and disillusioning anyone who stood in their way. It was a pretty sentiment and one the Grand Master knew that his son would fight with every ounce of his being, to be seen done... If that was the case... Haytham did not think that the sentiment would ring true for long.

Nor, Haytham thought, was Connor yet subtle and politically minded (some might call such manouvers devious and underhanded, but the Templar Grand master found such things to be practical, as well as essential for the longer term and more permanent changes to suit what was necessary for the betterment of many and for the pursuit of Order and peace) enough to be able to pull such a thing off, at least not yet. Or if Connor was marrying Washington for either or both of those ends, it was likely due to Achilles' machinations, rather than his straight forward and occasionally painfully honest son's method of doing things.

In any event, the Templar Grand Master was very determined to get to the bottom of all of his, and for that he was headed to New York with all possible speed... And secrecy. Haytham had the formal invitation to the wedding carefully tucked into a pocket in a secure spot that would stay with him, even if he took off most of his clothing. Haytham had of course written a letter sending his... Joy at the news of his son finding someone he wished to marry and of course he would be able to make it in time to the winter wedding - though he did lightly chide the other's sense of timing, pointing out that Spring and Summer weddings were preferable as the weather better lent itself for travel and enjoying a beautiful outdoor reception, but that he understood that in these uncertain times - and tying oneself to a man being hunted down by the British Empire for trying to oppose their authority - that when it was decided between the two loving partners, that the wedding was something they wanted, moving with haste was understandable.

Haytham assured his son in the letter, that he would be able to be in New York by the tentative date set, but made sure that the details of when he was arriving were as vague as he could make it, while still sounding as though e was delighted to be attending the upcoming nuptials. He hinted that he might have to come closer to the date of the wedding, rather than sooner, hinting towards needing to tend to Templar Business - as well as harassing the Regulars so that they did not notice a rebel wedding was to take place, and thus would be a very tempting target to march on with the bulk of their forces.

Then again this... Wedding could be a clever ambush on for the British regulars, and the letter was simply part of the act. It would most certainly be one of the strangest set ups for an ambush attempt, but possibly very successful. Although if was the case, why Connor wouldn't have hinted at such a thing in his letter... Haytham would be a tad disappointed about, if very amused and curious as to who had managed to convince Connor that this was a good plan that might actually work... And about whom Connor had actually written so lovingly about, as the older Kenway could tell that his son felt such deep affection for someone . He was going to terrorize the potential plan maker thoroughly for putting his son potentially so firmly in the sights of the British Empire for a gamble that was just as likely to fail as it was to succeed.

Haytham rode hard and paid for fresh horses at the small settlements he had to rest at when he came across them in the still largely wild area of the frontier between Boston and New York... It took a couple of weeks, and while travelling by ship might have been faster, horseback was less easily detected. besides there were only ever two ships he was ever going to willingly sail on, and one of them was on the other side of the Atlantic. The other - his son's - would entirely defeat the purpose of him trying to enter the city stealthily and not alerting anyone who might intercept or read the letters to Connor as to more accurately when he would be arriving in New York City.

Besides whatever... The letter signified, it would be cruel of Haytham to ask his son to leave his beloved's side simply to sail down to Boston and to come back to New York city. The time spent travelling to... Whatever he was going to find in the city... Passed slowly. Haytam tried not to think overly much on what possible scenarios and events had happened to - or might currently be happening - to Connor... That his son would send him such a letter. Such thoughts were a pointless waste of time and energy and the Grand Master (not worried himself over the fate of an Assassin, that would be preposterous and very strange) did not want to concern himself with such what-ifs and perhapses. Whatever the scenario, Haytham could do little as he traveled to even try to change things.

Instead, Haytham went over what he knew of New York City and it's inhabitants. Who he knew that he could trust to give him information, exits and entrances to the city, choke points and weaknesses that could be exploited. He was also very glad to know the tunnel system underneath New York City, as they would help him stay undetected in the city for much longer. With the city only recently under Patriot control, there was likely to be pockets of Toris working against them... Or afraid for their lives. Most, if not all of the British soldiers would be either dead, imprisoned or or the ones worth it, ransomed back to the British for money and/or supplies, but a few deserters and spies might also be lurking in the city.

Considering all of that, the Patriots would have regular patrols running in the key areas of the city - their forces stretched thin enough with the smaller battles with the British forcing them to do so, along with having to depend on local guards - the ones who had stayed at their posts and were either neutral or patriot-aligned... Which meant that Haytham should be able to get into the city fairly easily undetected, so long as he did not use a main entrance, or chose to enter at a time of high traffic - of which, he planned to do both.

~

Haytham knew that something was wrong as soon as he saw the city's walls. There were far too many soldiers in blue uniforms - some of whom he recognized being British soldiers - one of them being the commander of the fort that had fallen last in New York... In the blue uniforms of the Patriot rebels. Another strange thing was, though there was a reasonable amount of people coming into the city, few seemed to be leaving it... And those who were, they were in the dress of patriots - strangely glassy-eyed and walking in tight formation, despite some of them looking as if they wouldn't know one end of a rifle from the other. Whatever was going on in New York, something was definitely off .

In order to determine what was going on, the Templar Grand Master tailed one of the roving patrols and whistled from inside a bush, to attract the attention of the last man in the patrol... Only to find that the whistle did not attract attention, as it should have. Frowning a little, the Templar whistled again, louder this time, in the hopes that he would arouse curiosity of one of the soldiers, rather than all six of them, as he'd rather not have to subdue all of them - it would get bloody, and on the off-chance that he was being paranoid, if Connor ever found out that he had harmed or even killed patriot soldiers to slake his own paranoid curiosity, he'd never hear the end of it.

Again, all of the soldiers ignored him. He huffed silently in irritation... It seemed as though the direct approach was the only thing for it, unfortunately. He ducked behind a tree, darting until he was ahead of them, a bend in the road hiding him from their sight before straightening hi clothes (Haytham brushed out a couple of stray leaves that had gotten stuck in his hat from when he had hidden in the bushes) and rude down the street on the current horse he was riding on, calm and collected as the patrol came into sight. He called out "Good morning, gentleman." Nodding politely and nudging the horse off to one side a little, to allow them passage.

They stared up at him for several moments, identical blank expressions on their faces before the leader of the unit stepped out of formation and spoke up "Who are you and what is your destination?"

"I am Haytham Kenway, and I am headed to New York on private business." The Templar Grand Master responded, voice calm "Is something the matter?"

"By the order of General Washington, everyone coming into town must be coming in on foot, after being searched." The squad leader responded.

"Really, now? And I heard that the patriots were looking to expand the freedoms of the people who lived here, not curtail them further. What may I ask, is the general worried a lone traveler might be carrying that is so dangerous, hmm?" Haytham responded, deliberately making his words provocative, to see what kind of response he would get.

The squad leader blinked quickly once before continuing "Those are the orders we have been given, Mister Kenway. Will you submit to a search? If you do not, I am afraid that we cannot allow you passage into the city, and ask that you turn around and leave ."

Haytham arched an eyebrow at that, amused and unimpressed by the reaction that he had received. Given that he had unfavorably compared their dearly beloved leader to the British, he had expected a different response than that... Unless they were serving Washington because they though that things might improve if they switched to the winning side, rather than because they believe the propaganda that the Patriots had been feeding to the public... It was something worth testing.

Before Haytham could say anything else however, a familiar and welcome face appeared - it was Charles, who was riding quickly over to them, a small scowl on his face "Just what do you lot think you are doing? You are meant to be patrolling around the city, not bothering random people!"

"But sir! This man wishes to enter New York and has not submitted to a search yet." The squad leader protested, still sounding calm and strangely blank.

Lee rolled his eyes at that "Master Kenway is a very dear friend of mine, and he has been secretly aiding the Patriots for years now. He is not and has never been a British Spy or sympathizer. Now, off with the lot of you." He shooed them off, glaring and waving his hands until the patrol left the area.

Did this on AO3, here's a link!

archiveofourown.org/works/11239479/chapters/25119504

Love the story so far, pretty interesting. I would love you forever if you complete this!

Lots of feels for the Templars!

It is 2017 and I still waiting for this fill. Please some anon do this! I am begging! I will love you forever if you do

2017 and I am STILL waiting for someone to write this fill. Please sombody wrote this! I NEED it Desperately. Please

The Assassin Brotherhood had let their guard down after Achilles' untimely death when the Templars attacked. Although the Homestead residents are spared, the Assassins are rounded up to be tried and executed. They grudgingly accept their fate, even when Haytham offers to spare them in exchange that they switch allegiances in order to replace the Templar militant forces that have been lost in the war with the Assassins.

While imprisoned, the recruits are brutally beaten in front of Connor who is forced to watch. Picture Connor being restrained tightly in a chair while being forced to watch one of his recruits after another being beaten by Templar mercenaries with Lee and Hickey present and accusing Connor of being a failure as a mentor to allow his apprentices suffer. He's brought before the Grand Master again, and begs for his friends to spared. Haytham agrees to let them live, only if Connor becomes his slave.

When Connor commits himself to being a slave, he has no idea what is in store for him as he's brought to Haytham's bedroom: bound, blindfolded, and gagged. Imagine Haytham has wanted to fuck and discipline his unruly son for sometime; and over the course of a few weeks, has his way with Connor and fulfilling every dark fantasy he's ever had for the Assassin. At first he hates his new position and his father, but as time passes, Connor begins to enjoy being a slave.

Bonus: William Johnson isn't dead and Connor confides in him like a friend. How? When? Where? is up to the Anon.

Yeah you better it's been four years

I highly approve.

Haytham: Jenny and Holden sittin in a tree

Jenny and Holden: G-A-G-G-I-N-G (both blushing)

I KNEW I WASNT THE ONLY ONE WHO SAW THAT

The Birch part wouldn’t be so bad if Haytham hadn’t become a Templar at ten years old

This is fantastic and I love it! Just wanted to let you know that people are still finding this years later and wishing there was more!

This anon hasn't read any AltMal ina century and a half, never mind omegaverse fic. I really like your writing, and yes, Altaïr seems calmer - but being an arrogant dumbass got old, I guess. I really do enjoy the way you write his interaction with others. And their respective voices. This is an excellent fill - thank you, writer!anon!!!

2 and 11(Altaïr and Malik) but it's role reversal. Young!Altaïr(around 20) & Malik. (Warning: Slash)

Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad loses his arm and told Malik Al-Sayf that he(Malik) abandoned Kadar Al-Sayf in Solomon's Temple. But luckily 29(Maria Thorpe) and Novice-Assassin-turned-Templar!Kadar founds Malik after he goes to assassinate Talal.

Kitty play(Malik overpowering Altaïr)

12(Abbas Sofian) caughts Malik and Altaïr and he was like "MALIK! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!

Bonuses:
- Artist!Ezio(He still gets a scar/3) & Assassin!Leonardo(30), Auditore family lives, Ezio and Sofia Sartor(32) married
- Assassin!Federico Auditore/Templar!Vieri de Pazzi
- Connor Kenway/Ratonhnhaké:Ton(4) & Aveline de Grandpré(5)
- Ziio|Kaniehtí:io/Haytham(22)(Washington(37) and Charles(39) will planning marriages between these two to make Ratonhnhaké:Ton confused)
- Templar!Arno/Assassin!Élise
- Assassin!Lucy Stillman(6)/Mild Strong!Templar!Desmond Miles(1), Shaun(8)/Rebecca(9) gen.
- Juno(35) is so done with them.
- 19(Robert de Sablé) trains Kadar
- mentions of 10(Subject Sixteen)
- Robert rapes Altaïr

That cliffhanger was evil...It's probably discontinued, but I wish there were more parts because your writing is phenomenal and I love how all the characters are portrayed!

It's a post-apocalyptic/dystopian romcom!

Chapter 1

Desmond stared at the tree husk in wonder. How many years since he'd seen an actual, living tree? The thing in front of him was gray, devoid of color, with brittle branches. The landscape surrounding it wasn't much better - sand and large rocks as far as the eye could see.

It didn't make sense. Why had a group settled here?

The wind was picking up but sadly, no clouds anywhere. The sand whipped against his face, leaving behind a stinging sensation that had become too-familiar after days of traveling. He drew up his scarf to protect his mouth and turned to his companions.

Clay looked exhausted and his feet were lagging. After witnessing a near-stumble, Desmond hurried to steady him.

"Des! I'm going ahead. You stay with Clay until I get back."

Something wasn't right, he could feel it in the pit of his stomach, but he let Lucy go, not knowing what to say without looking like a crazy person.

*

Later, as Lucy's eyes glowed and she was squeezing the life out of Clay in front of his eyes, he cursed at himself.

He emptied his gun, but Lucy didn't even flinch when her soft flesh ate the bullets, greedily devouring them. Lucy locked Clay's lips against hers and Clay stopped struggling. Lucy let go, and Clay turned to face Desmond. His eyes were glowing, too.

Desmond forgot to breathe, and heard someone whispering inside his mind.

Come, my child.

*

He ran.

*

Connor landed on the mat on his back, avoiding another kick. Although Connor's strength was unmatched, Aveline was faster. Brute strength wouldn't work on her.

He grabbed her ankle and she fell. He managed to sit up, but she was already on her knees and ready to strike.

She lunged at him, jabbing her hands towards his neck, but he intercepted her by grabbing onto her wrists and locking her arms into a tight hold. He brought her body towards him before suddenly falling back and using his knee to swiftly propel her body over his head. He let go of her arms and there was a resounding smack.

"Goddamnit, Connor." Aveline groaned and rubbed her wrists. Connor got up and surveyed the damage. Both were gasping and sweaty, but nothing seemed to be broken.

"Are you hurt?"

"No. Just had the wind knocked out of me."

Connor helped her up and both headed for the showers.

He'd barely felt the first drops of water on his skin before one of the newer recruits barged in. The recruit was about to open his mouth when he registered what he was looking at.
Connor let the water wash over him and turned his body fully towards the recruit, who turned beet red.

"Is something wrong?" Connor asked.

"Connor! T-they need you, uh, at the, uh, there's a situation. You are needed."

Connor's eyebrows quirked up.

"Your father! You must go see him, in the... Your father. Oh my god your father would have my balls..."

The recruit wasn't making any sense and Connor resolved to find out for himself. He shut off the shower and grabbed his towel, watching as the recruit scurried away.

He found his father in the main hall, talking to two people he'd never met before, but whose files he was familiar with. He'd talked to them on occassion, when transmitter frequencies were stable. He liked the woman, but the guy was sarcastic like his father. As the guy lacked his father's other qualities - a blood connection, for starters - and he was kinda rude, Connor had no incentive to think positively of him.

"Connor," his father called him over. "We have a bit of a situation. Mr. Hastings and Ms. Crane here tell me three of their assassins have come into contact with Juno, not far from here."

Connor sucked in a breath. "Any survivors?"

"That's what we're trying to determine. Two have gone rogue, the third was able to contact his handler before the line went dead. It's been 28 hours."

That still didn't explain why Rebecca and Shaun were here. He could see the same question in his father's eyes, but neither man said anything about it.

"Mission?"

"Simple recon and, if possible, extraction."

Connor knew without asking he'd be doing this mission alone.

*

His GPS signaled the end of his destination and Connor parked his jeep. Good thing too, as the wind was getting stronger, sand flying everwhere.

"I'm gonna have to wait out the sandstorm. Looks like it's gonna be a while."

"Wonderful, maybe you'll finally learn the virtue of patience."

"You're one to talk. Or did I imagine you roughing up those new recruits just because they had to postpone their training? On account of having to complete the tasks you gave them?"

He listened to his father's snide comments absently, eyes trained forward. The sun's light reflected against the sand, creating the illusion of tiny crystals in liquid gold. But he knew if he were to stick his hand outside, the crystals would scrape his skin raw.

He waited what seemed like hours, but must have been an hour, tops - the sun had moved a little and his father was still complaining about the recruits - until the wind subsided, no ripples moving around, every grain of sand in place, finally still.

Connor exited the jeep and surveyed the scene.

*

"This is a waste of time."

"Shut up, father."

Connor looked at the bodies strewn on the ground, quickly going from body to body and checking their vitals.

"Anybody here?" He called out.

"Oh, sure. Go ahead. Make yourself known and invite every goddamn -"

"I'm shutting off the communicator."

"Don"t you dare!"

Connor heard the start of his father's colorful cursing as he pushed a button on his earpiece and the line went dead. His father would have his hide later, but the man had been snarking at him for nearly two hours now. And while Connor found it amusing - he usually did - the high pressure of the situation was getting to him. The heat wasn't helping either and he wiped at his sweaty face to no avail.

He'd had to take care of a few stragglers, but aside from them, no signs of life. After a thorough sweep of the area, he started going through the pockets and bags of each body, hoping to pick up anything useful. So far he'd managed to pick up a few detailed maps, a flashlight with batteries, protein bars and even a working tablet. He'd have to see if Rebecca could make use of it.

The sun felt scorching. Connor squinted his eyes to block out the excess light and concentrated on procuring water. Half the bodies were carrying water bottles - some almost full, but most of them seemed to be nearly empty.

Once his canteen was refilled to the brim, he let himself have a few gulps from the remaining bottles. The last thing he needed was to get dehydraded before he even had a chance to start heading back to base.

He took off his gear and shirt, taking extra care not to damage any equipment, and dumped one of the fuller bottles on his head, the water traveling down his face and bared torso in rivulets. Showering was one of the few luxuries they still had, and Connor mourned the loss from earlier.

It was then, of course, that someone appeared.

*

Desmond was hallucinating.

He didn't know what kinda drugs he was on, but there was a half-naked Adonis in front of him.

He was very confused as to why he was seeing this, instead of seeing memories of his life flash by, as was the custom when dying.

Was this his brain informing him of hidden desires he'd known nothing about, so he could pass on to the other side in peace, soothed by images of rippling muscles?

The figure came closer and Desmond thought he heard his name being called out. His eyes rolled back and everything went dark.

*

"...Desmond?"

Connor kneeled by the collapsed figure and tapped his cheek.

"Can you hear me?"

Desmond groaned but didn't seem to hear him. Connor went to get his supplies, the canteen and earpiece in hand as he made his way back to Desmond. He carefully manoeuvred Desmond's head onto his lap, before uncorking the canteen and sticking his thumb and forefinger into Desmond's mouth to keep it open. Slowly, the water poured into Desmond's mouth, past chapped lips and into his parched throat.

Desmond seemed to drift in and out of consciousness, as he swallowed the lukewarm liquid. Every time he coughed, Connor drew back the canteen and waited a while before administering more water. Soon the canteen was empty.

Satisfied with his work, Connor put on his earpiece and turned it on.

"Father?"

"Connor." His father sounded agitated, and he couldn't blame him.

"I found Desmond. Dehydrated, but doesn't seem to have any injuries that I can see."

There was a pause before Haytham answered. "The other two?"

"No sign of them, but I could -"

"No. Bring Desmond back to base. It's a miracle Desmond's even alive, and you're not lugging him around while trying to fight off two rogues."

"Understood."

Making a last cursory sweep of his surroundings, Connor gathered his supplies, put on his shirt and gear, heaved Desmond over his shoulder like a limp sack of potatoes and started walking towards the jeep.

-----

Notes:
- This started out as a modern AU meet-cute story where Connor and Desmond were neighbors, but somehow it turned into whatever this is.

Desmond had woken up in the infirmary, hooked up to an IV bag, Shaun sitting close by in a rare show of concern.

"Am I gay?" Desmond slurred.

"Pardon?"

"Just before I thought I died, there was a... Vision. I think I saw a man. He was... Half-naked. I... I think I swallowed something."

The corners of Shaun's mouth twitched but he resisted making any remarks. As much as he loved to take the piss out of Desmond, an easy target even when the poor guy had his defenses up, this was like taking candy from a baby. Desmond was too disoriented, and in no state to appreciate his particular brand of comments. Later, he decided.

"Dark, tall and handsome? Looks like a Greek god? That would be Connor Kenway. He's the one that found you."

Kenway. Now why did that name sound familiar?

Desmond shot up straight, nearly falling off the bed. If his father wasn't here yet, then that meant Kenway -

"Desmond Miles?"

A man with graying hair had stepped inside the infirmary. His eyes were cold and calculating as he looked Desmond over, hands clasped behind his back. If the devil was indeed real, here he stood. Even Shaun looked intimidated by the man's presence.

"My name is Haytham Kenway, and I'll be your handler for the time being. From now on you'll report to me, until you get assigned to someone else."

So. His dad wasn't coming. Probably. He knew better than to ask.

Haytham took a step towards Desmond, likely noticing he wasn't receiving the younger man's full attention.

"I don't care how it was at your base, here you follow my rules. You don't talk, you don't eat, you don't so much as take a piss without my permission. Am I making myself clear?"

"Y-yes, sir."

"Good. Feel free to use the toilet. When you feel like you've gotten enough rest, you may visit the communal showers and cafeteria. I'm sure Mr. Hastings knows his way around and will be delighted to -"

Shaun opened his mouth to object but one look from Haytham silenced him.

"...Delighted to bring you up to speed. Now, as much as I'd love to interrogate you, that will have to wait as I have an insolent, wayward son in need of punishment. Report to me tomorrow, someone will show you where to find me." Haytham's face grew dark and he left the room just as quickly as he came. Desmond felt pity and despair for the man's poor son.

"What is he gonna do to his son?"

Shaun shrugged. "Spank him, probably, if the rumors are to be believed."

"You know what, I don't wanna know. Forget I asked."

*

The hallway looked empty. Connor took careful, quiet steps, wondering if he'd get to spend the rest of his day in peace. Alas, no such luck.

"Connor!"

Connor turned around and there was his father, in the flesh. His father looked pissed and so Connor stopped in his tracks and waited for his father to catch up with him.

"If you think you can pull that shit you did today without repercussions, you are sadly mistaken."

Connor waited a moment, but when nothing else was forthcoming, guessed the real reason behind his father's upset and stiff demeanor.

He lunged to hug his father, squeezing tight. His father didn't move a muscle.

"I'm okay."

"As punishment, tomorrow you'll do three hours worth of extra training, and you have both animal care and gardening duty for the rest of the week."

Connor tucked his face under Haytham's chin and smiled. "I love you too, father."

"... I suppose you can take the rest of today off and recuperate from your mission."

"Thank you, father."

There was a cough and Connor disentangled from his father to see Charles Lee standing a few feet away. Connor's lip curled in disgust. Lee shot him a quick glare, before addressing his father.

"Mr. Kenway, sir, before you set your rabid son loose, I'd like to go over the mission report with him."

Connor huffed, choosing to ignore the insult. "I already gave my report to Hickey."

"There are a few discrepancies that need to be addressed."

Haytham sighed and rubbed his temples. He had never quite understood the animosity between his son and his second-in-command, nor was he ever likely to, and right now he wasn't in the mood to suffer through another one of their verbal spats.

After Connor had wiped the floor with Charles one time too many, he'd made the boy promise to never lay a finger on the man again. Unfortunately this recent ban on their physical altercations seemed to increase the frequency of their arguing in Haytham's presence, and Haytham was forced to admit that maybe he'd made a mistake. Maybe, not that he'd ever admit to it aloud, maybe he ought to let his son kill Charles Lee, if only to spare him from further migraines.

"Charles, it's quite alright. I'll go over the report with Connor later."

"But, sir -"

"I insist. Now, would you like to accompany me to dinner?"

"Yes, sir! I'd be delighted to."

Connor rolled his eyes. As if everyone wasn't going to be eating the same thing at the same time and place anyway.

"Connor, why don't you freshen up? The showers should be empty right now."

"Okay." And just because he could, he gave his father a quick peck on the cheek, discreetly giving Lee a sidelong glance. As expected, he was greeted to the sight of Lee vibrating from barely restrained anger. Maybe Lee would throw another tantrum and make an ass out of himself in front of his precious Mr. Kenway.

Again.

Connor nearly gave his game away, but managed to stop himself from snorting out loud just in time. His father seemed to be occupied with observing Lee's startlingly hostile demeanor and reddening face to pay any attention to his son, and Connor took advantage of the situation.

"I'll visit your rooms later, daddy," he drawled huskily. "When you're alone and... Lonely."

Haytham was too busy trying to strong-arm Charles towards the cafeteria to notice his son's suddenly strange behavior.

"Yes, yes, fine. Off you go then."

Charles seemed ready to blow up any second now - was the sight of his son truly that detrimental to the man's blood pressure? - and he'd rather avoid any bloodbaths.

It wasn't until much later that Connor's words seemed to register in Haytham's brain. What was this about being lonely? And since when did Connor call him daddy? Maybe his son was more exhausted than he let on.

*

"Look, Desmond, I really need to get back to Rebecca. Something important came up. I'm sure you can manage one shower alone, hmm?" Shaun pushed Desmond inside and hurried away. "Just follow your nose if you get hungry!"

Desmond stared after Shaun, too tired to do anything. He was so exhausted, he didn't even jump when another figure suddenly appeared before him.

"Are you alright? You look tired."

It was the guy from before, voice gentle.

"I'm about to fall asleep and my head is killing me. Other than that, I'm just fine." He took a closer look at the guy. "I'm Desmond, as you probably know. And you're Connor, right?"

Connor nodded and Desmond wanted to say something else, but his thoughts were hindered.

Connor was naked.

----------

Next chapter: our boys take a shower, but sadly no smut

Notes:
- HaythCon is not gonna be an actual pairing in this fic, I'm just using it for comedic purposes here (and Connor's motivations to troll Charles Lee will be explained later). But if even the idea of joking about HaythCon is a major squick, please let me know so I can make changes to any future chapters.

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Page 384 of 385

Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt. 5

Re: FILL --------15 of ? -------Enthralled

Re: FILL --------16 of ? -------Enthralled

Re: Reincarnation, Connor, Achilles and Haytham

Re: FILL: Partnership 1/1

Re: Primeval AU - Lost in Time

Re: Halloween Trick

Re: Ziio Lived

writer anon

Confusion and Desire part 1/?

Re: Haytham's Journal AO3 Link

PLEASE CONTINUE!

Re: Haytham raises Connor

Re: Boston Massacre Rewritten

Captured and Bound

Re: Connor/his friend

Re: Dishonored Crossover!

Re: Haytham/Jim Holden

Re: Just wanted to share this

Re: Charles/Haytham - One-sided Charles beds Haytham

Re: ^ That's part 3a. This is part 3b (I fail).

Re: ^ That's part 3a. This is part 3b (I fail).

Re: Random ship minifics?

Re: ^ That's part 3a. This is part 3b (I fail).

FILL: Juno's Children (1a/?)

FILL: Juno's Children (1b/?)