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: Branches 1/?
(Anonymous) 2013-01-08 12:07 am (UTC)(link)It was May, and the frontier was green; the game plentiful, for those who hunted. Connor had seen the rabbits running through trees. He so rarely hunted. Actively avoided it, when he could, if only to spite those in the Order who so clearly expected it of him.
Funny, how inane thoughts creep up on one, when the mind cannot process what has happened.
Connor stared at the corpse, silent in death. Arrayed respectfully, like all the corpses, as he had demanded. They would all receive a burial, here, where they had staged their final resistance. Where they had tried to withhold the artifact from the Order.
She was silent, and lovely, her face angular and sharp but beautiful in its own way. Her hair was long, and woven with feathers in the style of the Mohawk. He saw himself in her. And, just after he had slid a sword in her gut, she had seen her in him.
She had seen his face, and grown sad. And with her last breath, in flawless English, she had called him 'son'.
What scared him, shook him to his very core, was that he could not find a single piece of evidence to prove it untrue. Not with his father's stories to guide him, with his own features to reference. He had killed Ziio, whom his father had spoken of so fondly. Whom he had wished to meet, if he could, someday. What kind of man killed his own mother? Not a man Connor had ever wished to be.
And so when Charles Lee had put his hand on his shoulder, told him it was for the best, he could only manage to nod dumbly and, with great effort, turn away. He barely heard the man's low consolations; that his father would be so very pleased that they had found the Piece of Eden, that he had done well for their brotherhood, and he would be rewarded for this act. He heard only a honeyed tone, well-versed in lies and flatteries, and wondered for the first time why his father would have sent them to destroy a village that his mother lived in. Wondered if Lee had overstated the importance of the mission. Wondered if, without an adversary, the men of the brotherhood were turning their skills on each other, to vie for power. If Lee would use the Artifact against his father, as he had used Connor against his mother.
Connor Kenway, son of Haytham Kenway, Grandmaster of the Templar Order, said nothing. But he took the Piece of Eden from Charles's hand, and, as his face was warmed in the glow, wished with a ferocity that surprised him that things could have been different. The Apple took on a glow in his hand, pulsing as if in time to his own heart. He frowned. Could he have activated something? They knew so little about these Pieces...
The glow grew rapidly, and the space around him began to white out, even as he shielded his eyes. The exclamations of Charles, of his men, grew muffled. And finally, with a hum that pierced through to his temples, everything disappeared. Connor screamed in pain—the thing was going to kill him—even as he watched, his hand, still grasping the artifact, was deconstructed into a burst of gold particles, his arm soon following--
And then he knew no more.
OP
(Anonymous) 2013-01-08 12:30 am (UTC)(link)Re: FILL: Branches 1/?
(Anonymous) 2013-01-09 07:45 am (UTC)(link)FILL: Branches 2/?
(Anonymous) 2013-01-09 11:41 pm (UTC)(link)He woke up suddenly, with the distinct feeling that he was being watched. Unmoving, Connor kept his breathing even, and listened. If the artifact had somehow transported him into danger....
“You need not pretend. I know you're awake.” There was the scuff of boots in front of him, and the creak of a body leaning against wood. He opened his eyes to stare at the sky between alleys. He was in a city to be sure. The smell of human waste and garbage gave it away.
Connor eased himself up on his elbows, and when no attack was forthcoming, he stood just as slowly, taking in the alley's only other occupant. Connor's eyes narrowed. By the cut and color of the stranger's robes, he was an Assassin. Haytham had described their predilection for white hoods. But...but the man's visible face was disturbingly familiar. It wasn't until Connor gained his feet entirely, and the other man pushed off of the crate, that he realized that their build and height were frighteningly similar as well. The man standing across from him could have been his double. Or---or /was/ his double. Had the artifact split him, somehow?
The man, guessing his thoughts, raised his hand and revealed what he held—the very same artifact that had nearly destroyed Connor. “Looking for this?”
The same Artifact that he would need, if he were to reverse whatever had happened. Connor brushed himself off, and in the most polite manner he could conjure, given the circumstances, said, “Yes, actually, and if you return it to me I will be on my way..” He paused, gauging his possible double's reaction. The man was frowning. Not a good sign.
“I think not. How did you come across this?” Connor's own eyes narrowed. He had no patience for this game, not today.
“None of your business, just give it back.”
But the man persisted. “Who are you, and how is it you wear my face, but speak like a British colonist?”
Connor sighed. “You wear /my/ face, thank you, and I have no /time/ for this!” He lunged for the globe, and was met halfway by a firm shove from the other man. He growled low in his throat, and persisted, feeling somewhat childish.
How it escalated to him throwing a wide punch to the hooded man's jaw, Connor will have difficulty recalling. The man retaliated in kind, and they tussled, neither gaining an edge for long. The other man fought like one used to brawling, but Connor was no slouch either. The artifact had fallen by the wayside after Connor had landed a blow to the other man's solar plexus, and now he lunged for it.
The second man kneed him in the gut, sending him down, and reached for the same. Their fingers touched the artifact at precisely the same moment.
The white light came more quickly this time, and Connor grit his jaw through the pain. The other man, however, was not as prepared, and the Templar wondered if that's what /he/ had sounded like, the first time.
Familiar blackness assaulted again.
Consciousness came more reluctantly this time, and was accompanied by a pounding headache and sore, weighted limbs. Connor groaned before he could keep himself from doing so, and blinked in the bright light. Sunlight, filtered through trees, this time. Was he back? Had it worked? He rose to his elbows, and saw a familiar form, clothed in white and blue, sprawled across from him.
“Bollocks.”
OP
(Anonymous) 2013-01-10 12:33 am (UTC)(link)No but seriously, this is amazing. I like how Haytham-y Templar!Connor is, and your descriptions are perfect! I really wouldn't have known you found fight scenes hard if you hadn't said so, because the action was brilliant! :3 Anon, you have stolen my heart! <3
Writer!anon again
(Anonymous) 2013-01-22 11:19 pm (UTC)(link)OP
(Anonymous) 2013-01-25 04:01 pm (UTC)(link)Anyway, glad to see you're alive and well, hope to read more of your glorious writing soon. :)
Re: FILL: Branches 2/?
(Anonymous) 2013-01-10 01:14 am (UTC)(link)Re: FILL: Branches 2/?
(Anonymous) 2013-01-10 12:13 pm (UTC)(link)Re: FILL: Branches 2/?
(Anonymous) 2013-02-16 07:14 pm (UTC)(link)FILL: Branches 3/?
(Anonymous) 2013-03-01 06:35 am (UTC)(link)Ratohnhaké:ton, more commonly known as Connor, woke with a start. He could hear a second muffled curse, and someone shifting from...somewhere around him? Things were hazy. He did not seem to have full control of his limbs, and his eyelids would not obey the command to open. Clarity returned slowly, and he could eventually make out the birdsong, the snap of a twig right next to his ear...
Wait. He forced himself into something closer to focus. Connor tensed as he felt a hand brush away his hood, and forced his eyes open, grabbing the offending wrist in a strong grip before his vision had adjusted.
When it did, he found himself looking at...himself. Connor mentally groaned, sifting through recent memories. He had hoped it had been nothing more than a bizarre dream brought on by a sleep-thirsty mind. The other...man pulled his hand away, breaking Connor's grip. He frowned. “No need to be like that. I was not attacking you.”
“And how was I to know that?” Connor retorted. The other man rolled his eyes. Whether he was frustrated with the Assassin or with himself was unclear. Connor got the feeling that if he asked, it would be him that was to blame. Somehow. In any case, the man made no move to stop Connor from sitting up. But he did not wait long enough for Connor to even rise to his elbows before speaking again.
“Where is the Artifact?” His tone was highly accusatory. Connor fought the urge to respond in the same manner.
“You do not have it?”
The man visibly bristled. “No. And it is nowhere to be found in the clearing. I was going to search you, but you woke up.” He was clearly put out by the prospect. Likely the man would have relished the chance to disarm and otherwise neutralize him.
Connor sat up all the way now. “So neither of us know where it is...perhaps it was left in the alley?” He looked up. He knew the frontier up and down the colonies well enough. If he could gain a vantage point, he would be back on his way to Boston in no time.
The man scoffed. “If it is, it's long gone. We will have to track it down.”
Connor started to nod, but stopped. “We?”
“Obviously. I came to that alley by desiring a change, and the Artifact complied. I have to reverse it, if I am to return home. And,” he made a pointed glance at Connor, “clearly this is not my home, as I have no brother.”
Connor stood in a smooth movement, ignoring the other man's intake of breath. “And neither do I. Perhaps...perhaps we should wait on antagonizing each other until we find out exactly what has happened.” The other man, who had stood more slowly, nodded his assent. Connor flipped his hood back up, and without further communication, jogged to a tree and began to climb.
“H-hey! What are you... /slow down/!”
Connor huffed, and, once reaching as high as he could safely go, looked down. The other man was doing poorly, and not just because he was trying to preserve the state of his clothing. It was heavy wool, by the look of it, and meant more for a city than any kind of rough terrain. He turned his attention back to the surrounding landscape.
They were near a road, which was good news. It wound below them, just shy of the clearing. What was better news was that, this far up, he could hear the drums of an approaching contingent, and could see the flash of blue that meant a colonial officer on horseback. They were cresting a far hill now. He took a calming breath, and when he opened his eyes again, the surrounding forest was darkened by his Eagle's Vision. The approaching contingent was---bright red. What? Connor blinked again, and the world returned to full color. Yes, they were definitely colonials. He frowned. Best to solve this the simplest way, then. He looked down, and said, “Stay here.”
Connor jumped from the tree, ignoring a highly audible protest from below him, and landed in a roll. He stopped a comfortable ways away from the road, and found a jutting rock to perch on. He was visible from the road, and the contingent would see him long before they were close enough to speak. No reason to startle them. He privately hoped the other man would have the sense to stay hidden. He did not want to have to try and explain away their obvious similarities, and even more disturbing differences. But there was no forthcoming shouting or even rustling from behind him, so Connor settled into a squat, and waited.
OP
(Anonymous) 2013-03-01 11:32 am (UTC)(link)