asscreedkinkmeme | Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt.2

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assassin's creed

Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt.2

Assassin's Creed Kink Meme pt.2
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Welcome to the Brotherhood

∆ 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.

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∆ Last, but not least: HAVE FUN!

List of Kinks
(Livejorunal) Archive
#2 (Livejournal) Archive
(Delicious.com) Archive
(Dreamwidth) Archive <- Currently active
Part 1
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Fills Only
Discussion

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Not sure if this is what OP wanted, but I did my best! :D Unbeta'd, sorry.

~~~~~

A spatter of blood across a roughened cheek, a choked gurgle, and desperate hands clawed ever so briefly at Ezio's robes, then lay still, eyes wide open and empty. Ezio grimaced as he pulled his blade from the lodged hollow of the guard's clavicle with a sickening, crunching squelch. He could hear footsteps and shouts - more guards were in hot pursuit. In a swift move, Ezio shoved the guard's body aside and over the ledge, picking up and taking off at a sprint, hoping by the shriek somewhere behind and below him that he could buy some time with the distraction. In a blink, he swung around into a rooftop garden and held his breath, listening, blood pounding in his ears.

It grew quiet again - the guards had probably given up and he exhaled in a deep sigh, putting a hand to his forehead. His mind was spinning, his hands clumsy, knees watery - he hated it, hated how they would form, materializing in the worst of times, in the heat of grit and adrenaline and doubt, twisting the knife of grief and pushing it deeper than Ezio thought possible.

His hand came up to press against his forehead, wiping away the film of cold sweat that had formed on his brow. His eyes blurred, his throat nearly too thick to breathe right without letting a sob escape. But he shook his head back, blinked hard, would not cry. He would not be weak.

"They're dead," he murmured to himself, breathing deeply. "Dead. Or you wouldn't be here."

The rustle of fabric caught his attention and the sudden flare of light in the garden made him whip around, and within a second his blade was in the throat of the guard who had decided to peer inside. Blood slicked his fingers, and he gave the man a shove, sending him tumbling over the edge like his previous fallen comrade. Shouts rang through the air and Ezio leapt from the garden, his mind empty except for the word, run.

~~~~~

"Mio dio."

"Don't look so surprised, Frederico. He's been at it for nearly ten years."

"Obviously practiced." Frederico glanced at his father sitting on a bench, jaw set, hands folded, hood up. "To think that he's still doing it for us…"

Giovanni pressed his clasped fists to his lips, brow furrowed, thinking.

"Where would he go now?"

"Leonardo's, now doubt." Giovanni stood up, reached over and twitched his son's hood closer to hide the line of his cheek. "I know it's hard to see him this way."

"No," Frederico murmured. He grinned ruefully. "It's only…he looks so much older than me now."

"If you were my age, you wouldn't be complaining."

"Even though you haven't aged at all."

Giovanni sighed and put his hand on his son's shoulder. The pair of them looked not a day older than their death had left them, brought back to earth with the gold and unearthly wind of the Apple the skin that would never age. But flesh lied - eyes could not. In his son's gaze, Giovanni could see the grief, the regret and the worry of ten years hidden behind the smile lines, the crinkles at the corners of Frederico's eyes.

"Come. Let's go see him."

Ezio's scratches from the skirmishes smart sharply as he all but fell against Leonardo's door. He did not knock so much as nearly put his fist through the wood, needing to touch, to feel someone he knew was not cold and lifeless and gone forever, but a friend, a lover, a solid and earthly reassurance.

He did not take in the paleness of Leonardo's face, the eyes that were wet and bloodshot. He'd barely opened the door a crack before Ezio had thrown him against a wall, slammed the door behind them and nearly crushed him in a kiss, arms hugging him so tightly Leonardo whimpered for pain and breath, hands clenching in Ezio's robes.

"Ezio…Ezio, wait…"

Ezio loosened his bone-crushing grip, only to press his hands open palmed to his lover's back, nuzzling into the curve between his neck and shoulder. "Need you," he whispered, breath hot and insistent against the flesh of Leonardo's throat. "Please, I…" He kissed him again, but found his lover's attention turned somewhere behind him, eyes wide and frightened.

"No, we need to…you need...."

"What?"

Leonardo's gaze flickered to and from him, and Ezio turned. Two figures were standing by the artist's desk, light flickering gently from an open window across their faces…two dreadfully familiar faces.

"No…"

"Wait, love, I can explain, just listen-"

"Why won't you specters leave me be?" Ezio whispered, his voice choked in his throat. The soft click of a blade and Leonardo looked down to see the gleam of silver at his wrist, eyes still fixed on the two figures.

"Wait, no-"

"They won't leave me Leonardo. Not when I'm dreaming."

The figure resembling his brother glanced at their father, but Giovanni had his eyes fixed stern and hard on Ezio.

"Put the blade away," he said.

"Do not speak to me," Ezio breathed.

"Listen to me, son. Put the blade down like a man and speak to me."

"I said do not speak to me," Ezio hissed, and the bitter hatred in his tone seemed to rend the air with a metallic bloody tang, that of all the people whose lives had fallen to the lone assassin who'd so reluctantly taken up his father's work. "Do not speak to me in my father's voice…I know you are some vision, some…madness in my head."

"Not madness," Giovanni murmured, putting up his hands in reassurance. "Please, my son…"

"You cannot be my father," Ezio hissed, but his hand was unsteady as Giovanni drew closer. "My father would be far beyond the years you appear…and…and my brother…" He looked to Frederico, who stood quiet and alert by the wall. "My brother would look older than me."

A sort of half smile flashed across Frederico's mouth, but the flash of silver and Giovanni's abrupt halt erased it from his face. "Brother…don't."

Giovanni did not flinch when his son brought his blade edge to his throat, did not despair at the fierce distrusting gleam in his eyes, the ragged breath, the sweat he saw on his son's upper lip, the fear and desperation and grief and blood-trained adrenaline that raged in a maelstrom in the brown irises. He had the look of a wounded animal cornered past help, teeth bared in an albeit futile attempt of defense.

"Move," Ezio panted, his voice trembling beyond control, "and I will spill your blood on my boots."

"Cazzo, Ezio!" Frederico cried, "Don't talk madness."

"From you as well!" Ezio shouted, his cheeks flushed, his eyes wild, spit flying from his mouth. "I watched my father, my two brothers drop like stones, watched their necks snap like twigs, heard the crowds…" A thin stream of blood trickled from the line where blade met flesh. "I carried their bodies where they had been dumped…cold and lifeless and hollow…I carried my family to their proper graves when no one else would. I felt…I -felt- they were gone." His voice lowered to a deadly breath. "I avenged them with my first kill. I continue to, slaying for ten years. Do not think I will hesitate to bring the same fate to you."

The silence that followed his words was so pregnant, so absolute, that nobody seemed to be breathing. Giovanni shifted his weight, and the tension in the air teetered on the edge of the metal at his throat.

"When my second born was fifteen," he said, "I took him out to the rooftops of Firenze." Ezio's pupils shrank, but Giovanni did not falter - neither did the threat of a second death. "I had seen him climb. I knew he had skill. Knew he lacked strategy. I took him south to the Duomo and told him to climb. And the look…" A chuckle slipped from his mouth at the memory, an involuntary gasp from his captor. "The look he gave me. But he was a proud boy. He aimed to please, even if it was only his father. Especially when I mentioned Frederico had done it already. So he climbed. After a while, he broke a window, slipped inside…I couldn't see him anymore. I had to trust he was there. Trust he'd find his way up, and his way down."

Leonardo felt tears on his face, too wrapped up in the story to care, too terrified for what would unfold. Giovanni's face had softened as he gazed upon his son, his dear Ezio, who looked as though someone had torn his chest open. Still, his cheeks remained dry - he would -not- stoop that low. Not yet.

"After a while, I was scared. I wanted to be up there with him," Giovanni murmured, and the silver faltered a little. "I thought perhaps I was wrong, maybe he'd fallen inside, was hurt or worse. And then I looked up…" He closed his eyes briefly, heart cracking at the sobbing breath that met his words. "And there he was. There he was, perched on the top of the Duomo tower, looking out over Firenze. The entire city was his. And I remembered the feeling that I'd had when I was fifteen when my own father had told me to climb. I remembered the fear and the passion to see me above the whole city, seeing what princes could not, what kings could only dream of.

"And he looked down at me, and he waved. I knew he had to do it, but the first moment I saw him suspended in the air, the minute I saw him jump, I wanted to shout at him 'Stop! You're not ready!' But I couldn't." Gently, he brushed Ezio's hood back and touched his hair. "And when he jumped out of that haycart right next to me…I knew one day he'd be alone. He was so happy, and I was so proud, but I…" His voice thickened and he saw Frederico brought a hand up to his face out of the corner of his eye. "I knew I could never forgive myself for that moment. My son was no longer mine."

One by one, he removed his gloves and dropped them to the floor and pressed his palms to Ezio's temples. "I stood on those gallows ten years ago with my two beloved boys, my eldest and my youngest, my two innocents…and I saw my eagle, my assassin in the crowd, fighting to reach us. And I wanted to tell you no. 'No! Don't come near us.' I knew you would be slaughtered in a heartbeat…and that it would be my fault. But I could not see, the death was too swift. And I woke on with my two boys, my brother smiling in my face and holding what we thought had been lost forever. And I had to ask where you were. But you were gone. You had killed already. And I knew you would not stop." He brushed the hair away from the assassin's forehead and kissed him, like he had so many years ago when the boy had first leapt, had proven himself worthy of his ancestry.

"I know what it is to die, Ezio," he breathed. "And it is no different than sleep. It is my fault you live like this, my fault that I have turned you into this beast made to kill. I do not want to have to live like you have, alone and without my family, without hope. Please believe us," he added with a gentle smile, "we are not dreams. We will not leave."

Ezio dropped to his knees with a wail of grief that shook to the very bone. Giovanni fell to close his son in his arms, and was finally met with the same embrace and hysterical sobs of, "Papa, Papa…."

Leonardo slid down the wall, sobbing quietly into his hands, overwhelmed at the sight. Frederico was slow to approach, suspecting that as much as he wanted nothing more than to throw his father aside and crush his brother in a hug, Ezio may not be as partial to that - their previous faux-enemy competitiveness may have carried over. He was wrong however, when Ezio seized his wrist and yanked him into his arms. He'd never felt his brother tremble so, and rubbed his back in comfort - he didn't dare look at his father. He couldn't bear the thought of him crying, could hardly bear it when he cried himself.

Ezio pulled back, his eyes bloodshot and wet, his face an utter mess. "Where's Petruccio?" he gasped. "Is he not-"

"He's in Monteriggioni," Frederico said, giving his brother a playful slap on the arm. "Weak constitution, remember? He wouldn't have made it in one piece. Anyway," he added, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. "He might still be afraid he's the only one to age anymore."

"He's…mío dio, he must be almost-"

"He's just right," Giovanni said firmly. "Looks younger than Frederico, thankfully. Hoping he stays that way." He gestured to Leonardo, who blushed, still sitting against the wall. "'Fraid we gave him a fright."

Whoops, miscounted, so it's 5/5, not 4/4. :D

~~~~~~~~

"Leonardo," Ezio said hastily, scrambling over to his friend. His hand released his father's ever so reluctantly. "I'm…I'm so sorry. Wait…did you-?"

"We literally just came in the back," Frederico assured him. "He was probably about as frightened as you were."

"I…got word from Mario," Leonardo said sheepishly, blushing at Ezio's hand on his knee. "Ezio…"

"I…" Ezio suddenly froze, realizing the cause of Leonardo's, and now his own, embarrassment.

Leonardo dropped his gaze. This was a private moment for all of them, it wasn't his place to intrude, even if it was in the middle of his own studio. But to have to break it to them like this…he didn't want to ruin anything remade.

Ezio's hand was suddenly on his, and he started, looked up at Ezio, who was gazing resolute at his father and brother.

"I have had few people I could trust so much as to call my friend," he said. "Leonardo has been with me for nearly ten years and has never judged me. I can trust him more than I have trusted any woman."

Frederico raised his eyebrows and put up his hands in mock defeat. "Trust me, fratello," he said. "Father and I have no place to judge you."

"You…wait, what?" Ezio was completely confused. "What do you mean….oh dio. Papa?"

"Saving him from the Arno wasn't the only thing Lorenzo him for." Frederico laughed at the open mouth stare Leonardo had fixed him with.

Giovanni closed his eyes, a rueful grin gracing his mouth. "Frederico, I sometimes worry about how much you know."

"Learned a thing from a Fox about your youth," Frederico shrugged, a wicked little gleam so like his young self back in his eyes. "Along with a thing or two I could take along."

"Frederico!" Ezio stood up and clapped him on the arm. His brother in turn stole the opportunity and pulled him into another full embrace, which Ezio returned with all the warmth from ten years passed.

"I've been so afraid brother," Frederico said softly. "Every day, wondering if there was any of you left to find. Wondering how you faired, if you knew we were alive."

Ezio nodded, his throat aching. He didn't trust himself to speak again about the matter. Instead, he cleared his throat and addressed his father. "Have you seen Mother yet? Claudia?"

"Yes." Giovanni's face darkened. "As much of a monster this has made you, I will forever be grateful you did not let me get my hands on those bastardi that touched her."

Ezio saw a muscle in his brother's jaw leap at the words. "Did she…know you were alive?"

"No." Giovanni's eyes glittered and he let out a harsh breath. "I will not let any harm come to her again. I would rather it be by my own hand than by the hands of the Borgia."

Ezio nodded, then unbuckled a bracer and held it out. "Take it. It was yours."

Giovanni stared at his son, and saw the glint of the animal behind the gentle golden brown. He took the blade and slipped it on, and in the moment felt like the fire was back, up and roaring. But he was trained to resist it.

"For now," he said softly. "They are all safe. I trust Mario more than I trust myself sometimes."

"Besides," said Frederico. "It is better if we remain in hiding. If they have the Apple, and they saw what it can do…" He glanced at his father, then back at Ezio. "It would be worse than we could imagine. They would not stop at three people. They could raise armies, Ezio."

"They could. But they won't." Ezio's voice was dark. "I will not let them."

~~~~fin~~~~~

Phew, hoped OP was pleased!!! I was waiting waiting waiting for someone to fill but they didn't.

Sorry if the mush was a little...mushy. :D

:DDDDDDD I am very pleased!

OMGGGGGGGG Thank you so much writer anon!!! /tears of joy
After long, hard day, this made it all better zomg<3<3

writer!anon says thank you so much, and she's so glad to have helped!!!! <3 <3 <3 *massive hugs*

i had a lot of fun writing it :D

Browsing through the prompts, just came across this one and oooh, my heart has completely melted. Mushy fic is mushy but that is absolutely okay! The story Giovanni told was lovely and Ezio finally breaking down got me a little choked up. Thank you for this wonderful image of the reunited family! :D

This was so adorable and made my heart ache and almost made me teary-eyed, dayum. Thank you, writeranon!

THIS. THISSSSSSS. TTTTTTHHHHHHIIIIIISSSSSSS.

/CRIES TEARS OF JOY FOREVER AND SQUEES SO LOUD HE WAKES THE HOUSE

;A; IT HAD MY FAVOURITE CHARACTERS AND IMPLIED GIO/LOR AND. AND. AND. AND. ANDDDDD <3<3<3<3

THE GOOFY LOVING STARE I HAVE FIXED AT THIS FIC IS RIDICULOUSLY LOVING THIS IS SO BEAUTIFUL AND :3 :3

Awww, writer!anon says thank you so much!!! I loved writing it, this anon is a sucker for fluff and emotional!Ezio. <3

I quite enjoyed reading this. The characterization was very good and the tone was set beautifully. It stands out to me for the really raw portrayal of Ezio you have, wounded and angry and in tenuous control of himself.

If you plan on posting this elsewhere, I'd be happy to give it a beta-read for you. I did notice a couple of minor errors, but it just needs a little polishing to make it really shine. If it's typical of your work, I wouldn't mind beta-reading other works of yours as well ^_^

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Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt.2

Re: E Ritorno [1/?]

Re: E Ritorno [2/?]

Re: E Ritorno [3/?]

Re: E Ritorno [4/4]

Re: E Ritorno [5/5] (oops miscounted)

Re: E Ritorno [5/5] (oops miscounted) - OP

Re: E Ritorno [5/5] (oops miscounted)

Re: E Ritorno [5/5] (oops miscounted)

Re: E Ritorno [5/5] (oops miscounted)

Re: E Ritorno [5/5] (oops miscounted)

Re: E Ritorno [5/5] (oops miscounted)

Re: E Ritorno [5/5] (oops miscounted)

Re: E Ritorno [5/5] (oops miscounted)

Re: E Ritorno [5/5] (oops miscounted)