asscreedkinkmeme (
asscreedkinkmeme) wrote2012-10-29 11:35 pm
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Entry tags:
Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt. 5
Assassin's Creed Kink Meme pt.5
Fill Only
Fill Only
Join or Die
✩ Comment anonymously with a character/pairing and a kink/prompt.
✩ Comment is filled by another anonymous with fanfiction/art/or any other appropriate medium.
✩ One request per post, but fill the request as much as you want.
✩ The fill/request doesn't necessarily need to be smut.
✩ Don't flame, if you have nothing good to say, don't say anything.
✩ Have a question? Feel free to PM me.
✩ Last, but not least: HAVE FUN!
List of Kinks
Kink Meme Masterlist
New Kink Meme Masterlist
(Livejorunal) Archive
(Delicious.com) Archive
#2 (Livejournal) Archive
#2 (Delicious.com) Archive
(Dreamwidth) Archive <- Currently active
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Fills Only
Discussion
The Super Important Assassin Mission [1/?]
(Anonymous) 2013-03-11 10:17 pm (UTC)(link)Connor was pacing around his room when he finally heard the sound of pebbles being tossed at the window. Immediately he rushed to the sill, squinting out into the darkness. The porch lights were on and he could make out a young boy standing outside, stooped to grab more pebbles to toss at Connor’s second-story bedroom window.
Finally he was here. Connor had called him nearly fifteen minutes ago and said it was an emergency and to bring all of the guns he could stuff into his bag. It’d taken a while to convince Clipper to sneak out of his house, since it was nearly 8:00 and both of their bedtimes. But after Connor had insisted it was an emergency over and over, Clipper had relented.
Connor shoved open the window and stuck his head outside. Clipper was lucky it wasn’t a super emergency, or the mission might have been compromised in the fifteen minutes it took him to get over here.
“Clipper!” he hissed down to the boy standing in the garden. “Get up here!”
Clipper dropped the pebbles in his hand and looked up as he heard Connor. He hesitated, shifting his weight, not sure whether to shout or whisper. “I can’t climb up that, Connor!” he finally hissed back. “Why can’t I just use the front door?”
Connor rolled his eyes and gave a loud sigh. Clipper was his best friend, but he didn’t seem to understand what it meant to be an Assassin no matter how many times Connor explained it to him. Assassins were stealthy and smart and perfectly capable of climbing up the side of a house. Connor climbed up the house all the time. Not that his father knew; he get grounded for sure if he ever found out. And then his father would tell his mother, and even though his mom let him sit on the roof with her and watch the city lights, she’d flip her lid and all in all his mother’s temper was something Connor would rather avoid.
Which is why scaling his father’s house was an Assassin secret. One that Clipper would obviously spoil if he went and rang the doorbell.
“Assassins don’t use front doors!” Connor reminded him for what could have been the millionth time.
“I’m not an assassin, I’m a...” He seemed to be struggling to remember what role Connor had given him. “I’m a sharpshooter!”
“An Assassin sharpshooter!” Connor leaned further out of the window. Clipper couldn’t seem to understand that he was both. Connor was an Assassin assassin, and Clipper was an Assassin sharpshooter. Not that hard to remember. “Come on, I’ll help you! It’s easy!”
Even in the dim light he could tell that Clipper wasn’t too convinced. That’s why he needed Connor to lead him, or else he’d probably get nothing done. But Clipper approached the side of the house and looked up at him expectantly.
“Okay, get on the electric box!” Connor directed, waving his hand at the green utility box covered with warning pictures of people getting zapped. Good thing it was dark and Clipper wouldn’t notice those. When Clipper climbed up onto the box dutifully, Connor pointed again. “Alright you gotta climb up the fence!”
It wasn’t a fence but a trellis, erected so his father’s vines and stupid boo-gan-vill-eas could grow up the side of the house. Either way, Connor found that its position right beneath his window made it easy to enter and exit the house without having to worry about running into his father or Charles Lee.
“I don’t think that’s safe—” Clipper started to whine, but Connor cut him off.
“I do it all the time! Trust me!”
Clipper sucked in a breath, gripping the fence beneath the foliage. He stuck his foot in one of the holes in the trellis and then slowly the other one. The flowers shook with his weight, but the trellis didn’t fall, as he’d half-expected.
He began to climb upwards, trying not to step on any of the flowers and also avoiding looking up or down. As he neared the top the entire trellis began to shake.
“Connor!” Clipper shouted and froze up, holding tight to the trellis.
“Put your foot on that brick right there!” Connor said as he leaned out of the window, reaching out for Clipper’s hand. He could hear Clipper shakily exhale but he put his weight on the loose brick and pushed upwards. It gave him the leverage needed for Connor to grab his hand. Clipper’s feet scraped against the side of the house as Connor pulled him inside. He dragged Clipper through the open window and both of them collapsed onto the rug.
“That was not easy,” Clipper pouted as soon as he caught his breath.
Connor ignored him. “You got the guns?” he asked, his voice deadly serious.
Clipper huffed, slipping the backpack off his shoulders. “Yeah,” he said, unzipping it. Clipper was Connor’s sharpshooter because he owned probably a thousand and one Nerf guns. Clipper had like fifty brothers and they kept all of their Nerf guns in the garage. Connor only had one Nerf gun that his father had bought him that time Connor had been dragged out to run errands with him and Charles. But it wasn’t as cool as Clipper’s Nerf guns.
Connor’s eyes lit up immediately and he began to paw through the backpack. His favorite was the big pistol that he could stick into his jeans pocket like a holster. Clipper always chose the Nerf sniper rifle, which was three feet long and could shoot up to twenty feet. Connor wasn’t sure exactly how far twenty feet was, but that’s what it had said on the box.
“Where’s your bow?” Clipper asked him, sitting back as Connor took his pick of the Nerf guns.
“It was confiscated,” Connor grumbled. Confiscated by his mother of all people. Apparently it was authentic and belonged to his great-grandfather, and the reason why it was sitting on the mantle was not so little boys could take it and try to shoot real flint-tipped arrows at the vegetables in their fathers’ gardens.
Clipper said nothing as Connor found his favorite gun (which actually belonged to Clipper’s brother Emory). The bottom of the backpack was filled with loose Nerf darts and Connor grabbed a handful, shoving them in his other pants pocket. It was always best to be prepared in case something went wrong on a mission. On the mission to assassinate Charles’s annoying dog Spado, they’d used up all of their ammo shooting at the Pomeranian from the kitchen window, and had none left for when Charles Lee appeared.
“So what’s the emergency?” Clipper finally asked.
Connor frowned as he jammed Nerf darts into his gun. “We gotta do some spy work.”
“I thought we were assassins.”
“Assassins do spy work!” Connor apparently had to write down exactly what Assassin’s did and tape it to Clipper’s forehead, because his friend kept on forgetting. In all actuality Assassins did pretty much whatever Connor wanted to do at the time, but he liked to pretend that there was an official Assassin’s Creed that everyone had to follow. “The Templars are in the drawing room—”
“What’s a drawing room?” Clipper interjected.
Connor scrunched up his face. He’d heard his father use the word once, but he couldn’t remember what room he was talking about. “It’s the room that adults draw pictures in and stuff. S’not important. What’s important is that the Templars are busy so we can do some looking around.”
“What’re we looking for?” Clipper asked, leaning forward to grab his Nerf rifle from the top of the bag.
“Anything.” Connor’s voice dropped to a whisper again as he became eager. “Something that tells us what they’re planning.”
“Are your dad and Charles Lee the only Templars?”
“No way. My dad’s just the leader of them,” Connor sniffed, as though he was a little proud of that fact. “There’s Templars everywhere. My dad’s work is just a cover for Templars.”
“Abstergo Industries?” Clipper clarified. Abstergo Industries’s local hub fueled the town economically and a lot of people worked there, Connor’s father and Charles Lee included.
“Yeah.” Connor stood, dusting off his pants. “All Templars.” His father would invite over work friends to have dinner from time to time. Most of them were mean or just ignored Connor, but one of his father’s friends was really nice and had a beard and spoke with a funny accent. He told Connor to call him William and brought Connor a stick of rock candy. Connor would’ve liked him if he didn’t work at Abstergo and wasn’t an evil Templar. But he was, so Connor had to throw the candy out and spend the entire evening spying on his father’s coworkers with his binoculars from the banister.
“What about your mom?”
Connor rolled his eyes as he zipped Clipper’s backpack back up. “She says she doesn’t want to get involved,” he replied. Which was ridiculous, because in the battle over the fate of mankind, one would think she’d want to be involved.
The only adult Connor knew was on his side was Grandpa Edward. Connor became convinced that Grandpa Edward was an Assassin the moment Grandpa Edward let him steer his boat when they were out at open sea. His father was completely against the idea, but Grandpa Edward had insisted it was fine, Connor was a Kenway. He’d clapped Connor on the back and called him “Captain Connor” and taught him which way was starboard and which way was port. When Grandpa Edward took the wheel back, he said he was going to have to get Connor a little sailor’s hat, because Connor was a natural-born seaman. Connor had decided there was no way someone as cool as Grandpa Edward could be a Templar.
So he’d told Grandpa Edward about the Templars and the Assassins and that he was sure his grandpa was an Assassin. Grandpa Edward had laughed and winked at him – Connor was a smart boy, he’d said. Connor shared his secret Assassin plans with him and told him about how his best friend Clipper was an Assassin too and he had a lot of Nerf guns. He told him how the Templars were still trying to take over the world and mind control people into doing things they didn’t want to do, like his first grade teacher Mr. Rodrigo who wouldn’t let him stay inside and read during recess or bring his stuffed turkey to school.
When Connor asked how his father had turned into a Templar, Grandpa Edward got really quiet and sad. Grandpa Edward said it wasn’t Haytham’s fault. Sometimes Assassins try really hard, he’d said, so hard that they end up forgetting what’s most important to them. He hoped that someday Haytham would become an Assassin again. Connor doubted it. His father couldn’t be an Assassin. He was about as Templar as they came.
“Okay,” Connor said as he hopped up. He shoved Clipper’s backpack underneath his bed with his foot – he couldn’t risk his father checking in on him and noticing the foreign backpack right in the middle of the floor. “We’ll write down everything we find in the mission log.”
The mission log was a bound notebook with Connor’s Assassin symbol on the front. Grandpa Edward had gotten it for him for his birthday, and Connor kept it in his underwear drawer so neither his father nor Charles would stumble across it. If they looked through the book and discovered all of his Assassin missions, everything would be compromised. Connor only shared the mission log with Grandpa Edward when they went to visit.
Mission log and pencil in his hoodie pocket and his hand brushing against his Nerf pistol, Connor turned back to Clipper, who was still sitting cross-legged on the ground and picking at a loose string on the carpet.
“Ready?” Connor urged.
Clipper glanced up and grudgingly got to his feet. He tilted the large Nerf gun against his shoulder. “Aye, captain,” he replied with a tired salute.
Connor preferred to be called grandmaster, but captain was going to be good enough. He grinned at Clipper as he crept over towards the bedroom door and turned the knob. “Let’s move,” he whispered, pulling the white hood of his Washington Elementary School sweatshirt up over his head and opening the door into the hallway.
Re: The Super Important Assassin Mission [1/?]
(Anonymous) 2013-03-11 10:28 pm (UTC)(link)Grandpa Edward! Mama Ziio! William Johnson! Spado! RODRIGO BORGIA EVEN MADE A BRIEF APPEARANCE OH MY GOD! I'm going to guess Haytham and Charles are married or something in this AU?
Anyway point is, ILU, and I need more of this like AIR because I'm dying of cute overload right now
Re: The Super Important Assassin Mission [1/?]
(Anonymous) 2013-03-12 01:34 am (UTC)(link)I love Spado so much! I had no idea that the real Charles Lee loved Pomeranians so much and it just made my life. ;u; My headcanon is that Haytham and Charles are in a serious relationship but just dating and Connor moves between houses every other week or something like thattt