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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This is, this is not… Connor readies himself as the door to his cell opens, but he’s standing on shaky legs and not enough food or water, and Jameson catches his punch with apparent ease before smashing Connor’s face against the wall with a sickening-sounding crunch. Hot blood streams down his face and he can taste the coppery tang in his mouth as he tries to sweep the man’s legs from under him.

He may as well have kicked the wall for all the good it did him, and Jameson seems almost amused by his efforts. The words sound warbled in Connor’s ears as he says, “Are you finished?”

Connor wants to say never, but the word refuses to come out, and he refuses to let out the pained gasp that would come instead.

A large hand caresses his bruised cheek, the gentleness of the motion at odds with the sting that accompanies it. “Such a handsome face. I’d hate to damage it further.”

Connor tries to spit in his face, but all that comes out is some bloody spittle that dribbles down his chin instead. A callused thumb wipes it away, lingering just a little on his lips.

Then that same hand is reaching under and tugging off his shirt, and Connor feels like a child again as it catches against his protesting arms, fabric bundled around his neck. One more pull and it’s off completely, and he doesn’t understand how he can feel that much more vulnerable without a threadbare shirt that sweat and blood and grime had left clinging to his skin anyway.

“Look at you,” Jameson breathes, and when did he lean in so close that Connor can feel his breath against his neck? He tries to smash their heads together – a moment, that’s all he needs; a moment where he has the upper hand and can bring a stop to this – but the other man takes a sharp step back and laughs as Connor sways and nearly falls over. “So defiant. So… bestial.”

“You are the beast here,” says Connor, his vision blurred and his surroundings refusing to stay still. Then there are arms pinning him against the wall, a low growl by his ear.

“This is civilisation. I can show you how a beast acts.”

There’s no pretence at tenderness now. Connor’s forced roughly to the ground, and once he’s down there his arms feel far too weak to push himself back up. All of him feels weak, weak and pathetic and helpless. His eyes burn threateningly and he will not cry, has not cried in years and refuses to give this filth the satisfaction. He squeezes his eyes closed, and it is a bead of sweat running down his face. Nothing more.

And then it’s like he’s not there, like it’s someone else this is happening to. In a way, it is – Connor’s not so much another name as it is another identity, one watered down so to be more presentable, more acceptable to the people around him. Connor is the one being unceremoniously undressed, lying limp against the floor. Ratonhnhaké:ton can do nothing but watch.

He’s unable to help as Jameson ruts against Connor, disgusting, nauseating grunts with each thrust, and can only swallow back bile as Jameson forces his way inside. It’s not the worst pain Connor’s felt – far from it, in fact, he’s had cuts and burns and grazes from bullets – but it’s so wrong, like there’s some part of him that can never be made right again.

Ratonhnhaké:ton just wants to see Jameson dead.

“The last one made noises for me,” Jameson tells Connor, his voice almost light. Only the occasional pant suggested otherwise. “But you’re so quiet.”

Connor is quiet. Ratonhnhaké:ton is reciting every insult he’s ever learnt.

Jameson’s breathing gets heavier, his thrusts rougher until he’s banging Connor’s hips against the ground with each one, and finally he lets out a long, drawn out gasp.

“About time,” comes a voice, and another wave of nausea washes over Connor. People heard. People know. They may be nameless and faceless people destined for the gallows, but they…

He retches, but nothing comes up.

“I thought you were covering your ears.”

“Didn’t help me – wait. Shit. Lee’s coming.”

Connor feels rather than sees Jameson getting up, hears the rustle as the man makes himself presentable.

He knows that he needs to move, needs to not let Charles Lee of all people see him like this. He knows this, but he also knows that his limbs will not cooperate and doesn’t trust himself not to pass out even if he managed to get to his feet.

Instead he settles for burying his face in his arms, makes sure he can’t see Lee and can only hear the footsteps, coming to a stop as they reach his cell.

“Sir,” say both of the guards.

He can’t see Lee’s face, but that doesn’t stop him from picturing it. He’s lying naked on the floor, covered in clammy sweat and blood and come, and he doesn’t know what response would be worse from the man. Contempt? Disgust? Maybe, beneath it all, some shred of pity?

“As you were,” Lee says, his voice crisp. A pause. “And for god’s sake, show some discretion next time. This is hardly the sort of thing I’d want to expose Haytham to.”

The last thing Connor remembers is the reverence in his voice.

sadfic is okay! Sadfic isn't bad! It could even be AU if you don't want Hannah's ultimate fate to happen! Such is the glory of fanfiction!

How did I miss this! OMG Connor... ::eagerly waits for part 2::

Oh, I didn't notice part 2 before posting my comment ^^; Part 3?

When you talk to Kanen'tó:kon early on he's just so happy to see Connor, he even kept his longhouse as it is for when Connor returns and I just -- aah. ;_; I just want something sweet and sappy, where Connor is visiting (or maybe an AU where he comes back for good) and maybe invites Kanen'tó:kon to stay in the longhouse overnight?

Thanks for letting us know :) I wanted to ask but didn't want to come across as pushy.

This here? Is awesome. :)

Keep going!

I shamefully third this, but want a shippy Will/Des fic because I'm a bad person...

Assassin's Creed/Wreck-it Ralph crossover. After the games go off, the characters come out to play, talk, hang out...express their feelings over their roles in the games...

Do Vidic and Cesare go to Bad-Anon meetings? Does Desmond have a part time job at Tapster's or something because it feels right in his code? Do characters that died in game come back because hey, it's all a game here?

Silly, cracky, fun, mocking...you name it.

...Is it wrong that I do want Haytham exposed to it? Especially if it leads to a rescue, nngh.

Regardless, this is veeery well-written! Can't wait for the next part~

Do want!

Haha, glad to hear I'm not the only one!

A/N: Goddammit, I can't get this story out of my brain fast enough... I was not supposed to be writing today. Was. Not. Am taking tomorrow off for sure. ;)

~ ~ ~

Enoch is fourteen now; a young man, according to his father, and he is learning the way of the knife and the spear.

His father says that he needs to know how to fight; that war is coming and he needs to be ready. He feels the unrest amongst his people, and he sees the growing enmity in his family that has only increased with the passing of his grandparents.

Enoch is confused. He has never even seen their enemy.

“Go, Enoch,” his uncle says to him one day. “Go to where your father forbids and tell me if you agree with his plan.”

~ ~ ~

There are people gathering fruit as he approaches the gleaming city, all of the fruit trees arranged in neat rows. The people wear strange clothing, and do not speak to each other as they work.

There is a girl about his age sitting alone in the shade. She is different then the others, young and beautiful and animated. She holds a ripe red fruit in one hand and a gold sphere in the other.

The girl startles upon his approach. The sphere in her hand glows brightly as she holds it up. Around him, everyone stops what they are doing and holds perfectly still.

Everyone but Enoch.

“Who are you?” The girl asks. “You are not like the others.”

“My name is Enoch,” he answers, sitting besides her. She regards him warily for a moment before she slowly lowers the sphere. The people around them resume their work.

“I am Menrva,” she replies. “Would you like an apple?”

She offers him the bright red fruit. He takes a bite from it and smiles.

Tentatively, she smiles back.

~ ~ ~

The instrument Connor brings to him one day has less strings than the lutes he is used to, with a longer neck and a deeper, richer sound. The body of the instrument is reminiscent of the curves of a woman, and there is an elaborate design etched into the fingerboard. The wood itself is rich and dark, and the sound hole is completely circular and open, around which there are flowers painted in gold leaf. The headstock and tuners are not folded over like he is accustomed to, and it takes a moment for Ezio to find a comfortable way to hold the instrument.

“I am sorry if it is not quite what you were looking for. I wasn't able to find a lute, but the trader I purchased this instrument from assures me that it is very similar,” Connor says, almost apologetically. “It is called a guitar.”

“She is beautiful,” Ezio responds. He plays at a couple of the strings, and is relieved that they are in the familiar g – d – a – f – c – G scale that he knows well, the only difference being that there is one string per note as opposed to two. He'll have to make adjustments for the way the instrument sits across his body when he holds it, and of course for the length of the fingerboard, but he is dextrous with his fingers. He just needs time, and he will be able to play the instrument like the beautiful lady that she is.

“Thank you, my friend."

Connor beams at him.

“I am glad that you are pleased. I was hoping that you would be able to play for us at the reception on Saturday.”

Of course, time is a luxury that evades him, as usual.

“I... will do my best, but I must tell you that all the songs that I know are in Italian.”

“I don't think I can help you there,” Connor says, tilting his head with his hand on his chin. “Perhaps Corrine?”

Ezio laughs.

“That lovely lady knows a few limericks or two, but they are not songs that can be sung in polite company,” Ezio says, resting his hand on Connor's shoulder. Connor tenses up immediately, and Ezio allows his hand to slip down to the younger man's elbow, looking at him curiously. The younger man does not relax his body until Ezio drops his hand entirely. Ezio pretends not to notice.

“But do not worry, my friend,” he continues. “for I am resourceful.”

Connor nods, clears his throat and unconsciously takes a step back, folding his arms in front of him. A defensive movement, for which Ezio wants nothing more than to strangle the templar bastard who traumatized Connor when he was a boy, resulting in such anxiety over a simple human gesture, even now. Perhaps he will have the chance. He can only hope.

“How is your leg?” Connor asks after a moment, meeting Ezio's eyes once again.

“It is healing well. Doctor White tells me that he should be able to remove the stitches soon.”

“That is good to hear. Have you given any further thought to making your stay in Davenport more permanent?”

Ezio laughs, reaching out as if to grab Connor's shoulder again, before he reigns in the subconscious action and grasps his hands behind his back, forcing them to stay put. His observant young friend tenses and then relaxes, tilting his head curiously, as if he did not expect such a courtesy.

“I believe that --”

“Connor!” Desmond interrupts, out of breath as he appears in the doorway to their room. “Big Dave is looking for you, man. Something about Ellen's ex.”

Connor's eyes go cold and hard. Ezio carefully sets the guitar down by the side of his bed.

“Do you need assistance, my friend?”

“Are you able yet to run?”

Ezio grins in response.

~ ~ ~

Desmond is full of anticipation when they catch up to Dave, who has already managed to gather most of the men on the homestead, all of them angry and ready for a fight.

“Connor!” Dave shouts when he sees them, “Ellen's dullard of a man is trying to break down her door with his mates! We're on our way to stop it!”

A rush of adrenaline fills him as they run towards Ellen's home. He very clearly remembers this event from the animus, and is eagerly looking forward to it. Ellen has been particularly good to them since they've been here, and deserves much better than this dickhead. Plus, he wouldn't be completely honest with himself if he didn't admit to going a little stir-crazy with all the domestic shit he's been doing lately. A bit of ass-kicking therapy was well overdue.

As they run, Ezio catches his eye, making a hand gesture that he interprets as 'keep it on the down low'. Desmond rolls his eyes, but acknowledges with a slight nod of the head.

When they arrive at the house, there is already a goon on each window, one pounding on the front door, and about ten other guys surrounding the dickhead who orchestrated this in a protective circle. Connor immediately launches himself at the guy kicking down Ellen's door, while Ezio pulls the guy at the front window back by the fabric of his waistcoat, and eagerly proceeds to pummel him. Big Dave is quickly on the one at the side window, so Desmond takes it upon himself to start working through dickhead's circle of bodyguards. It is almost too easy to put these guys down, even holding back, but then Connor turns to watch him, eyes narrowed into slits, and Desmond allows the next guy to land a solid hit against his side. He paces himself, trading hits back and forth with his opponent until Connor's attention is elsewhere, and then he puts the man down with a flying kick to the head.

Ezio glares at him, but Desmond just shakes his head. No regrets, the asshole deserved it.

It isn't long until dickhead himself joins the fray, and Desmond watches with no small amount of satisfaction as Connor beats the ever loving shit out of him. He almost feels sorry for the guy – almost – when Connor holds him up by the lapels of his coat, and the guy pisses himself in fear as Connor snarls at him.

Desmond smiles, thinking to himself that Connor is a hell of a lot more bad-ass in person than he ever was in the animus.

~ ~ ~

Ezio does not say one single word to him as they return to the inn.

“Well, that was fun,” Desmond finally says, when the quiet becomes uncomfortable. Ezio is still not talking when Corrine places a plate of roast chicken and carrots in front of them both, followed by two tankards full of ale.

“It was a good thing you lot did today, helping Ellen like that,” Corrine says, full of affection. “I'm proud of you.”

“Happy to do it. That man was vermin. She deserves better,” Desmond responds.

Corrine smiles coyly, pinches his cheek like a mom. “Aye, that she does,” she says, winking at him. Desmond coughs into his fist.

“Her too, now? Is like the whole town on board the hookup train?” Desmond mumbles under his breath, turning his head to watch as Corrine walks away.

Ezio slams his fist down on the table, almost spilling his ale in the process, and Desmond jerks his attention back to him. Peripherally, he notices the door to the inn opening, but he cannot look away from Ezio. The man's eyes are burning with barely hidden anger, and Desmond feels all the blood drain from his face.

“You are a fool, Desmond Miles. You did not fight today like a barkeep. You fought like an assassin. What the hell were you thinking?”

Desmond has witnessed the barely restrained fury of Ezio Auditore on many occasions in the animus, but it is nothing – nothing – like having all that power and aggression directly focused on him. Ezio looks like he is about two seconds away from burying his hidden blade deep into Desmond's chest.

“Shit, just... calm down, man!” Desmond responds, pulling his hand through his hair and taking a deep swig of his ale. He puts his cup down for a moment, meets Ezio's eyes again, and then just torpedoes down the whole damned cup. When the icy glare directed at him doesn't lessen, he takes Ezio's ale and empties it down his throat as well, thinking he needs to be a hell of a lot drunker to deal with a pissed off Ezio Auditore.

Ezio's eye twitches, and Desmond swallows.

“I'm sorry, okay? I wasn't thinking... I've been through this before, and let me tell you, those bastards deserved it, siding with that dickhead. He – did you know that he's been stealing from her, cheating on her, gambling her money away, coming home drunk and beating both her and her daughter? I just... I like Ellen, she's been good to us. I couldn't... I wasn't thinking.”

Ezio continues to glare at him for a moment before he finally relents with a sigh. “I seem to remember someone mentioning the folly of getting emotionally invested.”

“I know, I know...” Desmond responds, turning his head to the side.

There is a good thirty seconds of silence, and Desmond finds himself shuffling his feet under the table like a child being scolded.

Ezio's sigh, when it comes, is heavy and exaggerated.

“You are a good man, Desmond Miles, and your heart is in the right place. But it is your mind that we need, please remember that,” Ezio finally relents.

Peripherally, Desmond notices Corrine approaching and he clears his throat. Ezio sits back, folds his hands in front of him, and Desmond smiles at her as she places a new tankard of ale in front of Desmond and two in front of Ezio.

“I'm not sure what you boys are talking about, but it sure looks like you could use the drinks,” she says, smiling at Desmond before giving Ezio a hard look.

“Grazie, mia cara,” Ezio says in Italian, offering Corrine a flirty smile.

'Laying on a bit thick there buddy,' Desmond thinks to himself, but watches with no small amount of awe has the suspicion from Corrine's eyes practically melts away, and her cheeks flush with blood. The man is a master. It's almost super-human, really.

Corrine giggles, and pats Ezio on the back.

“Oh, if I were but a young, single lass again,” she says with a smile.

“Ah, but the older the wine, the sweeter the taste,” Ezio responds. Corrine giggles, and Desmond wants to gag.

“You are sweet,” she says. “Now drink up and behave yourselves.”

“Of course, mia cara,” Ezio responds.

Desmond can still hear Corrine giggling all the way to the kitchen. He offers Ezio a toast with his mug.

“You are the master and must teach me your wicked ways.”

Ezio relaxes, takes a swig of his ale, and finally smiles at him.

“Ah, Desmond. Even if I were to write you a guide and draw you a map, it would be no help to you at all.”

Desmond lets out a breath then, and returns Ezio's smile. He's so relieved that they're okay, he doesn't take any notice of the way Achilles is casually leaning in their direction from behind his game of Fanorona.

~ ~ ~

“Dude, that's a guitar. Sick. Did Connor drop it off for you?”

Ezio's head is a little fuzzy from the ale, but his companion is practically falling all over himself as they return to their room.

“Yes... it is beautiful, is it not?”

“Gorgeous,” Desmond responds, picking it up to examine it. “Can you play it?”

Ezio shrugs his shoulders and carefully takes the guitar back from Desmond. He strums a few chords, inquisitively. It is not so different from a lute, and the frets across the fingerboard do help. Or maybe he has had too much to drink and he just thinks he sounds good.

“Connor has expressed his wish for me to sing and play at the wedding,” Ezio says, “but all the songs I know are in Italian.”

“No worries, man, I got you covered,” Desmond responds with a hiccup, stumbling over to the other side of the room. He fumbles with their locked chest for a moment before he turns back to Ezio. “Um, do you have the key to this thing? Or do I have it?”

“On the chain around your neck.”

“Oh yeah,” Desmond responds, pulling the chain off and unlocking the chest. Desmond pulls out his white jacket and retrieves something from it before placing it back in the chest and closing it up.

“Got a playlisht... a playlist of crappy music on here of Shaun's, all British invasion shit... they'll love it,” Desmond says, tossing a black rectangular thing with a white cord wrapped around it to Ezio. Ezio looks at it curiously, as Desmond falls on his bed face first. He turns to ask Desmond how to work it, but Desmond is already out, mouth open and drooling on his pillow.

Ezio shrugs his shoulders, puts the little white things in his ears, and starts pressing buttons.

I mean, seriously, why hasn't this come up yet?
Anon was thinking that if dogs/wild large animals like Connor so much, why can't they want to fuck Connor for a change? I mean, its a possibility. Just had to throw it out there...

I love you anon if I die I will die right here waiting for your prompt

I KNOW WHO WROTE THIS PROMPTTTTTTTTTTTTT XDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD
I... I mean (cough) I second this like no tomorrow ;w;//////
The name Connor IS supposed to mean wolf-lover amiritie? ovo

shuuutt uppppppp now anon is embarrassed to the point where anon goes into a wolf's den and hides there, and watches as the wolves and Connor have it going...
But what, seriously? Connor is supposed to mean wolf-lover amiritie? Dang, this prompt just has to be filled. Since anon is totally talent-less when it comes to writing, I'll just dump a few possible situations. Maybe Connor could be out hunting when he sees a wolf and then he doesn't feel like killing it because the wolf acts super-friendly to him. He gives the wolf some food, and they become like mutual friends, maybe.

ahaha... yeah I agree. It's not really my thing either. I like this Magic Contraceptive Tea.

!!!!!!! This is great!! I like the whole idea of the treaty I have to say, can't wait for part two <3

*shakes head* Desmond is such a kid...

Great job with the verbal smackdown! Is it wrong of me that I seriously want to see Ezio and Desmond spar? I keep being curious about their respective skill levels; I think that Desmond - the time in the Animus, in my head!canon, acted as a prolongued training session with several master-class assassins; he just needs experience and to learn how to *think* in a fight rather then react.

...you have unleashed Ezio, armed with the Beatles, upon the world. I am suddenly very afraid.

I adored that Homestead mission where everyone was running together to beat the crap out of Ellen's ex, it was really touching. MELTS... I can't tell you how much I loved this chapter. I wonder if Achilles heard the assassin outburst... and the idea of Ezio using an iphone, the modern day apple of eden, is hilarious. Eagerly awaits next chapter

I second this promt

*cackles evilly* muh ha ha ha ha ha!

Please! Oh please! Somebody please this begs to be filled!

WOW THIS SOUNDS GREAT

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Page 62 of 385

Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt. 5

FILL [2/?]

OP

Re: FILL [1/?]

Re: FILL [2/?]

Connor/Kanen'tó:kon, sleepover

Re: Writer!anon here

Re: Drown (1/??)

Re: Haytham/Connor; William/Desmond

no subject

Re: FILL [2/?]

Re: FILL [2/?]

Re: FILL [2/?]

Fill: Every hour God sends, part 7

Animals/Connor

Re: Alex/Desmond : Rooftop date

Re: Animals/Connor

Re: Animals/Connor

OP loves you x8

Re: Drown (1/??) OP

Re: Fill: Every hour God sends, part 7

Re: Fill: Every hour God sends, part 7

Re: Animals/Connor

Re: Fill: Every hour God sends, part 7

Re: Animals/Connor

no subject