asscreedkinkmeme (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
asscreedkinkmeme) wrote2012-10-29 11:35 pm
asscreedkinkmeme) wrote2012-10-29 11:35 pm
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
Fill: Wolf-Father 3/?
(Anonymous) 2013-03-19 12:01 am (UTC)(link)***
Haytham waited by Connor's side as the doctor daubed, bound, and fussed over the injured man. Currently, the assassin was drifting in and out of consciousness, a chesty cough making it all the more difficult to set his ribs, and an innate sense of defense against touch - one that had swatted Haytham's hand away more than once. There was no indication that Connor was aware of his surroundings. Had Connor not been weakened by his illness, Haytham had no doubt that a finger or two would have been broken instead of weakly grasped at, and then the doctor would have two patients instead of just one.
With practiced ease, the doctor lifted Connor's body and started to lightly wrap the ribs to keep them in place for the healing process. Haytham frowned - he didn't like this process, especially not with Connor's cough but if it helped then he wasn't going to put up a fuss.
"How long will it take?" Haytham asked as Connor was lowered onto his bed.
"Twelve weeks at the least."
The doctor tucked some pillows around Connor, plumping them up so he wouldn't roll in his sleep.
"If you have more pillows, then I recommend that you find them. Judging by how fidgety he is now, the boy is the fall-out-of-bed sort. Which honestly doesn't surprise me considering he's a sava-"
"Whatever you're about to say," interrupted Haytham, very quietly, "I recommend you think upon it before continuing."
"Yes. Well. As I was saying, stop him from rolling, keep him warm, but not too warm, and make sure to support the ribs when he coughs. Breathe from the abdomen, avoid strenuous activities, the usual pneumonia treatment. Be liberal with the laudanum - a few drops with every meal. This should help reduce the coughing. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to the undertaker before they box up Samuel Black."
And with that, the doctor picked up his case, jammed his hat on his head and left Haytham alone with an insufficiently treated patient. Haytham glared at the retreating doctor - if he could be called that - and vowed to ride into town once Connor had regained consciousness to send for a better doctor from Boston. It was absolutely disgraceful for a such an uneducated man to be calling himself a doctor. Unfortunately it was all the people of the frontier could offer and Haytham couldn't resent them for that. It wasn't their fault that they couldn't afford land closer to the cities.
Connor wuffed in his sleep, trying to roll onto his bad side, jerking back when it hurt him. Better find those pillows. Haytham doubted Connor would appreciate Charles or Hickey's pillows, since their scent was so strong, but perhaps William's would be soothing. The man had spent the most time with the natives after all.
Presently, he fetched William's bedding. Tucking it against his pup's side, Haytham frowned when it wasn't enough. Charles' scent would send Connor into a rage, while Hickey's was disgusting at best, so he couldn't use that. All the other pillows were already supporting Connor. A hand rose, and Haytham went to take it so it wouldn't flop back down painfully, but it wildly careened around his hand and grabbed his arm instead, giving a forceful tug.
"Rake'níha," Connor murmured, eyes slitted, trying to see against the light. "Rake'níha, oh niiawenhátie?"
Not for the first time Haytham wished he knew more than a few words in Kanien'kehá:ka. He could pick out something that sounded similar to 'father' but that was it. Obligingly, he knelt next to Connor as it seemed as if that was what he wanted.
"You were sick and being beaten but I brought you here - Connor, can you hear me? Connor?"
It was no use. The English name wasn't strongly rooted enough in Connor's brain for him to recognise it. Damn, he needed to stay awake for a little so Haytham could tip some tea and laudanum down his throat. The coughing was clearly painful, the chest disrupting the broken bones, pushing against those damned bandages and threatening to bleed internally - the negatives of laudanum's addictive property was the lesser of two evils in this case.
"Damn you, Connor, stay awake," growled Haytham, not daring to shake the man for fear of hurting him further. "Rattoon. Ratonhakakaka. Raddy. Radonha-"
"Ratonhnhaké:ton," whispered Connor, hoarse and dry.
"Ratonhn," Haytham mimicked slowly, trying to soften his tongue over the sounds.
"Haké:ton," repeated Connor, no more alert than before.
"Haké:ton," said Haytham. "Ratonhnhaké:ton."
"Rake'níha."
There was that word that sounded like 'father' again.
"Why is your language so infuriating?" Haytham complained, more to himself than to Con-no, Ratonhnhaké:ton.
"Yours is equally so," he mumbled before falling asleep again.
Clearly exhaustion was more powerful than his thirst. Haytham supposed that his son would wake when it was necessary. Now to fix the rest of this pillow problem.
Re: Fill: Wolf-Father 3/?
(Anonymous) 2013-03-19 12:40 am (UTC)(link)Re: Fill: Wolf-Father 3/?
(Anonymous) 2013-03-19 02:00 am (UTC)(link)Love your story, can't wait to see where you go with it!
Fill: Wolf-Father 4/?
(Anonymous) 2013-03-19 11:51 pm (UTC)(link)***
Waking wasn't as unpleasant as he'd been expecting. A warm fur was bundled next to him on one side and a veritable nest of pillows were on the other, flush against the wall. His chest ached terribly and his lungs burnt as if he'd poured straight whiskey into them but overall, he felt better than before he was attacked.
The last embers of a fire glowed in the hearth, it's thick smoky scent not entirely carried away by the flue. Underneath that smell was a distinct herb that the clan elders had chewed on, and Ratonhnhaké:ton spotted small bunches tied up to dry off a narrow bed built into the wall. There was another one above it - they both had a railing of some sort to stop its occupants from falling; the bottom, a third bed, was on the floor and was lacking in this regard. Access to the top bunk was by the tall ladder leaning against the headboards or by the internal half-balcony that jutted over the fireplace. Ratonhnhaké:ton guessed there was storage above as the ground floor of the cabin was crammed full of more beds; there were seven in all.
It was neat, except for one corner (that smelt familiar but Ratonhnhaké:ton couldn't place it), and dry. His clothes were soaking in several buckets and his weapons systematically laid out to be taken stock of and cleaned. He couldn't place the human scents - he knew them, but they were missing something that would identify them. There was fear (faint, years ago, a first shift? He hadn't realised how long that mark could stay upon a house) but it was mostly happiness and play. One was the strongest, one had been here the longest - had overseen the cabin being built - slept here for more full moons than any of the other seven occupants.
Haytham. Without malice or stress. A strong alpha providing a place of leisure and comfort for his pack. He was in total control of this area.
The fur next to him sighed and a large black and grey head nuzzled onto his shoulder, eyes closed. Ratonhnhaké:ton stared at the wolf (Haytham, it had to be Haytham, it couldn't be anyone else) in shock. He was huge. Even Duncan wasn't this big and he had been a werewolf for a lot longer than the rest of the assassins. Now aware that his father was next to him, Ratonhnhaké:ton went still. He had to get out. Get back to his own pack. His chest throbbed in reply - he wasn't going anywhere.
The wolf opened his eyes in a disapproving manner and made a yowling noise. It almost sounded like 'no' - it probably was. A large paw covered Ratonhnhaké:ton's eyes, turning into a human hand, and the bed shifted as Haytham edged off it, padding over to a chest. Ratonhnhaké:ton didn't keep his eyes shut. While he took no pleasure from seeing his father naked, he needed to know what he was going up against and that he was not embarrassed by the sight of another man nude.
"Ratonhnhaké:ton, it is rude to stare. Especially if they're not part of your pack and they're getting dressed after a shift," scolded Haytham. "Under the circumstances I will ignore it, but if it happens again I will nip your ear - whether you're injured or not!"
"How did you say that? What are ear nips?" asked Ratonhnhaké:ton and he winced at how hoarse his voice was.
"Your name? You taught me while I was attempting to rejuvenate your fluids. As for ear nips, they're to keep your pack under control. It's protocol discipline."
Ratonhnhaké:ton didn't know werewolves had protocol like that. There was hierarchy, yes, but never as formally acknowledged as this. Still, he did not look away; Haytham was a fast dresser, already to his waistcoat.
"I am sure you have many questions to ask of me, Ratonhnhaké:ton -" It was clear that Haytham enjoyed saying his name now that he knew how. "- and I will answer them in due time. However the most important thing will be to know that you are safe here. As long as you refrain from killing me, I will refrain from smothering you with your pillow."
Haytham tossed a few logs into the fireplace and coaxed it back to life. The room became brighter, not that either of them really needed it, but it was pleasant and required for tea. Ratonhnhaké:ton had a dislike for British tea - too burnt-tasting - and always kept a pouch of it on his belt. Ratonhnhaké:ton watched carefully as Haytham prepared the drink. A cry left his lips as he saw a few drops of black liquid be splashed into his cup.
Sighing (this seemed to be the default gesture for a Haytham not in the middle of a fanatical and pompous rant), Haytham sipped Ratonhnhaké:ton's tea. Paranoia, while it served them well in the field, was truly irritating when attempting to bring one's mortal enemy and child back to full health.
"I would question the sanity of a man who tried to kill an injured man he'd just paid two doctors to treat," murmured Haytham.
Obediently, Ratonhnhaké:ton sipped at the offered cup, his dry throat welcoming the horrible liquid (British tea! Urgh), spilling a bit down his chin as Haytham accidentally tipped the last of it too quickly. He tried to raised his hand to wipe the droplets off but a sharp pain stopped him. Fearing that he'd do damage, he let his arm drop.
"My apologies," said Haytham, using his handkerchief to wipe it up.
He felt Ratonhnhaké:ton's forehead for a moment, making sure it wasn't overly warm. It was unsettling to see his father assuming a physically caring role. It was something he'd wanted as a child, something he'd wanted during his first change, and now that he had it, he wasn't sure how to react. In this cabin, they were not enemies, but not exactly pack nor close family.
"You rescued me from the snow and the men."
Haytham tensed, his movements stilted as he took Ratonhnhaké:ton's cup to refill it. He pressed the full cup to his son's lips, letting him drink some more before answering. There had been the tiniest tremble of fear in Ratonhnhaké:ton's words, a flutter over 'men', a recoil from a horrible memory.
"I did," Haytham agreed, setting the half-full cup on the table.
He stroked Ratonhnhaké:ton's hair, was reminded of Ziio's silky plaits, and knelt next to the bed.
"They won't bother you again, Ratonhnhaké:ton."
Ratonhnhaké:ton was still, pretending to mull over the words, when in reality he was enjoying his hair being petted. He knew the men were dead. He still wasn't sure why his father had rescued him, but he had and Ratonhnhaké:ton was alive because of it. For now he could trust him.
"Thank you, Rake'níha."
Rake'níha smiled and gave his pup a gentle kiss to his temple.
Re: Fill: Wolf-Father 4/?
(Anonymous) 2013-03-20 12:01 am (UTC)(link)Re: Fill: Wolf-Father 4/?
(Anonymous) 2013-03-20 01:04 am (UTC)(link)Wait, no, that's the wrong thing!
ONWARDS, FOR PUPS, FREEDOM, AND SOMEWHAT LESS TOXIC FATHER-SON RELATIONSHIPS! (What? Wrong again? Close enough, I guess ;) )
Re: Fill: Wolf-Father 4/?
(Anonymous) 2013-03-20 12:38 am (UTC)(link)Re: Fill: Wolf-Father 4/?
(Anonymous) 2013-03-20 01:08 am (UTC)(link)OP loves you
(Anonymous) 2013-03-20 07:50 am (UTC)(link)This is just adorable! Haytham saving Connor and taking him back to his pack's cabin, the lesson in how to say Connor's name, wolf-Haytham being Connor's blanket! I squeed every few sentences! And the last line of this part, right in the feels anon, right in the feels.
I can't wait to see where you're going to go with this!
Re: OP loves you
(Anonymous) 2013-03-24 11:42 pm (UTC)(link)Dogs make the best hot water bottles, yessir they do. :) hopefully the squees will continue? :)
Fill: Wolf-Father 5/?
(Anonymous) 2013-03-24 10:57 pm (UTC)(link)It shouldn't have surprised Haytham that Ratonhnhaké:ton was an avid reader, but it had. The young man devoured as many texts as he could, bedridden as he was for the first week and a half. Finance accounts, legislation, tenancy contracts, and business correspondence were as natural to Ratonhnhaké:ton as his personal pleasures found in Shakespeare, John Gay, Voltaire, and an assortment of others. There was a theme somewhere - Haytham suspected it had to do with satire and the downfall of aristocracy - and he wasn't sure whether to be concerned or to find more books. Perhaps both.
So when Ratonhnhaké:ton couldn't focus on his book, restlessly shifting about in his seat, Haytham knew it was time to teach him how to heal. Such a strong desire to be outside couldn't easily be crushed. It was only natural for Ratonhnhaké:ton to want to be active once more.
"Put your book away, please," Haytham said.
Shuffling over to the bookshelf, Ratonhnhaké:ton did as he was asked and tilted his head questioningly at his father. Haytham scooped up a hammer, seemed to measure it against his arm and then offered it to Ratonhnhaké:ton.
"Break my wrist."
"Pardon?" Ratonhnhaké:ton was taken aback, shocked. "I will not."
"You will. I need a proper broken wrist to show you what to do."
"But Rake'níha-"
Haytham raised a hand to silence Ratonhnhaké:ton. "Break it. I swear it will be as good as it was before. Maybe even better. Make it a clean break."
There were a few moments of contemplation before Ratonhnhaké:ton lifted the hammer and brought it down. But at the last moment, he stopped it, glancing it sideways. This was ridiculous - he wasn't going to hurt his father while they were on neutral ground.
"Ratonhnhaké:ton, if you break it, you'll be able to go home. Your pack has been lurking at the edge of my territory for days now," sighed Haytham.
That was the only incentive Ratonhnhaké:ton needed. Haytham couldn't hold back a cry of pain as his wrist broke. Cradling it gently, he held it out for Ratonhnhaké:ton to see. His pup looked fascinated and upset at the same time.
"I'm going to concentrate very carefully on mending the bones - how they shift and connect to each other," explained Haytham. "Using the same power that occurs during a controlled shift, I will funnel it into a feeling of healing - fusion of bone and tissue, something goodhealingbonesoftblue."
The last words, garbled and describing things that had to be experienced rather than felt, made Ratonhnhaké:ton lift his chin to point accusingly. Haytham shrugged. The wolf language didn't always translate properly.
"Take my good hand and you'll feel it pulse under my skin."
He closed his eyes, focusing not on the sensation of his pup's hand in his (although he did take a moment to enjoy it) but on the pain that was radiating through his left wrist. First, he cooled it, sighing in relief, and Ratonhnhaké:ton shivered. Then Haytham slowly allowed the bones to grasp at each other, picturing a working wrist and letting his body intuitively know which bone went where. It was a good thing that ribs were easier to heal than a wrist - it was a good first healing project. After a few moments, Haytham slowly rolled his wrist around, letting the bones settle and muscle cover the edges once more.
When Haytham looked at Ratonhnhaké:ton, exhaling, his pup took it as a sign that he could examine the wrist, prodding and poking until he was satisfied.
"Why didn't you tell me about this earlier?" he asked accusingly.
"You were sick, and we cannot heal sicknesses as easily, strange as that sounds. Now you try."
Nodding, Ratonhnhaké:ton followed his actions and seemed to be doing well until it came to the fusing of bone. His energy was all wrong - it was still shift energy not healing. Haytham opened his mouth to gently correct Ratonhnhaké:ton when his son tugged his hand away, eyes snapping open, ears flattened and tail between his legs.
"Ah," said Haytham, realising exactly what was wrong with flattened ears and a tail.
They weren't healed bones. And now, due to the embarrassed fluster Ratonhnhaké:ton had put himself in (he had turned away and was valiantly not making eye contact with Haytham - that was flustered in Ratonhnhaké:ton's body language), he couldn't get himself under enough control to make them disappear.
"I did exactly the same thing on my first attempts as well," comforted Haytham.
Ears flicked up and tail swayed hesitantly. Brief eye contact. Head still bowed. Afraid of an upset Alpha.
Afraid.
"Ratonhnhaké:ton, I am not angry," said Rake'níha, putting his hand on his pup's shoulder.
No reply. A surge of energy. Haytham's eyes widened - he was trying again, much too fast, skin crackling, triggering his own wolf to stretch and push its way up. He could feel a shift, the energy bubbling but just before Haytham growled and dropped to all fours as a wolf, it stopped.
Ratonhnhaké:ton opened his eyes, a frown across his brow. The healing hadn't worked, but nothing had changed about him. Then he felt his father's hand still on his shoulder and gave the older man a sweeping look over his body.
"Ah," echoed Ratonhnhaké:ton. "Well, at least we can signal to the other wolves that we're fun and perky Alphas."
Haytham gave him a withering glare, ears folded back and tail stiff.
"Of all the stupid things you've done, I believe that ranks highly."
Ratonhnhaké:ton shrugged, tail wagging. He was laughing at him.
"I healed though, feel!"
Haytham didn't know whether to hug him out of pride or knock him down and tussle with him on the floor for being reckless. He did both.
Re: Fill: Wolf-Father 5/?
(Anonymous) 2013-03-25 01:02 am (UTC)(link)