asscreedkinkmeme | Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt.3

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assassin's creed

Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt.3

Assassin's Creed Kink Meme pt.3
Fill Only

Get out of my bureau!

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

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

OP "anon" is suoer-fail :--D
Still, gotta try and respect the rules from now on.

Ha ha it's okay, I've almost posted a couple times logged in. XD I don't think there's a rule about being unanon just most people prefer to be. I like being anon though so unless you manage to find my stash of drawings of Sronzo and Pene I shall be anonymous forever. ...Like an assassin. Neat. :D

OP here.
Oh my God, this was so AWFSJHVLFJSVJSF! I never imagined this would get filled so fast (if at all) and with such an awesome fill too. I loved the way you portrayed the minstrel and the guard (I totally ship them now :D). The shyness of the guard made me go d'aww... and I just realized it really fits the arquebusier since they are kind of loners. I mean, they don't usually patrol the streets and have encounters with citizens. Also, loved the all nervous thoughts from the minstrel.

My gaming incident with the minstrel and guard already made me think cause I felt like a bully being punished but now I really feel like an ass for always shoving the poor minstrels. Such powerful writing. Loved it.

Oh yeas, I love the teacher-student dynamics. Seconded!

"Ezio! All of your recruits are female? I thought you were going to grow the Brotherhood, not build a harem!"

Ezio, crouched on a roof next to the Borgia Tower, looks all the way down three stories to Machiavelli. The man is yelling like a merchant at first market.

"You don't believe I have the Brotherhood alone in my thoughts Machiavelli? Come up here and see for yourself how well my novices do."

At this, his sour look vanishes, and is replaced by a kind of urgent, disproving, curiosity. Machiavelli hauls himself hand-over-hand up the wall, pausing to regain his breath a little at the top. He is really better with poisons and stealth than assassinations by blade and force. "You're taking the Tower today? Why didn't you tell me? I would have arranged for some guards to be away for the day."

"Watch."

Machiavelli has barely settled on his haunches when the first guard falls. It's actually disturbing to observe. The novices spring from alleys and drop from roofs all at once. Most of them walk right up to the slacking guards and slide a knife into their throats before a single shout can be let loose, let alone a coherent warning. One women simply continues turning right as she strides around a corner, slicing her outstretched sword through her victims' spine. He probably didn't have a chance to realize he was dead before he was holding he head under his arm and staring at St. Peter.

Machiavelli feels a chill, and his palms are suddenly clammy. These women aren't assassins. They are a pack of hyenas processing a herd of antelope into meat.

Two white figures are moving up the tower wall at a brisk pace, one behind the other. The first falters a bit, and then drops about a man's height. The second takes her place without so much as offering a hand to help her comrade. She knows the most important thing is to set the tower ablaze as soon as possible. The other novice is more than capable enough to catch a ledge and save herself.

All of the guards are dead now. All of them, without a single scream, without any alarm at all sounding. The novice at the top of the tower waves once to the Master Assassin, then throws herself off the tower in a fearless, perfect, Leap of Faith, haloed by fire. Machiavelli knows he cannot do the same. He always needs at least a few seconds to remember his form.

The flaming tower has drawn a crowd and more guards. It is, however, too late. The novices are fading like mist into the gathered people or darting like birds over the rooftops. Machiavelli turns with Ezio and watches all twelve show themselves at the edge of the river. A few over the bridges, some poling boats, more slipping into the water and swimming. They all disappear again once they gain the opposite shore.

"You- You planned that well, Ezio. You had them make themselves plain at the river, so they could be accounted for, correct?"

Ezio throws back his head and laughs deeply. "Oh no my friend. This mission was planned by the novices only. They scouted the tower, assigned their roles, and choose the method to show their survival. I merely looked it over and made few changes for safety's sake."

"Oh."

They turn around and watch the tower blaze merrily for a while, the wooden roof crumbling in and the stone blackening. Even when the flames are no longer visible, both men know the fire is clearing the inside of any wooden structures. The stone walls will be hot for a least three days.

"Are you not going to leave and congratulate your novices, Master Assassin? I admit... they do very well."

"I was actually going to sleep at La Volpe Addormentata tonight. The morning will be soon enough and they deserve the chance to celebrate." Ezio suddenly looks a little... shifty. He looks past Machiavelli into the sky and continues. "Besides, there will be enough blood in Isola Tiberina tonight, I don't want to add my own by coming back without bomboloni, and wine, and maybe some strawberries."

Machiavelli blinks at Ezio. "That sounds like the private feasts at Rosa in Fiore. The ones when they are closed for the quarter moon."

"Exactly." Ezio grimaces a bit and launches himself off the roof, leaving his companion solve the riddle on his own.

Machiavelli slips over the edge and is climbing, carefully, down the wall when what blood his face had regained washes out again.

"Dio Mio, all twelve at once. No wonder Ezio is preparing a sacrifice."

Gosh, I hate you word limit D8!!
------------

"Let me see your arm." To his surprise, that got him a nervous stare and the assassin almost retreating if not for Malik's hand on his knee. "I'll be careful Altair."

Amber eyes watched him with so many emotions mixed up on them that for a moment Malik felt himself go breathless. There was regret, sorrow, fear, hurt, doubt... his heart clenched painfuly when something akin to hope flashed briefly on those amber orbs.

Just how much his words affected Altair?

He forced a small smile and crouched in front of the man, giving him a small kiss on the forehead, shocking the assassin further when he dragged him into a warm hug, still being careful of his shoulder. He could give in today, right? However he saw it, right now Altair was more of a kitty than the proud eagle everyone respected.

"I'm sorry" Malik said after a while, and felt Altair relax -if only a little- in his embrace. "I... I'll try being nicer." he said with a sigh, and tried not to laugh when the other one nuzzled his neck affectionately. "You still can't talk I see."

The assassin gave him a halfhearted glare and backed away from him, carefully holding his shoulder and fixing Malik a look that almost pleaded mercy.

An injured kitty indeed.

-------------------------
There we go. That's it for today anons 83 I love you all!

He walked back into Malik’s chambers and settled down, waiting for Malik to come back so he could sleep. He walked in a few minutes later, and as he stripped, Altair watched him. He settled next to him in his undershirt and pants.

“Why do you cover yourself?”

“What?”

He tilted his head as he stared at Malik. “Why do you cover yourself? It is not as if there is anything to be ashamed of.”

He watched Malik blink as he laid there, the one-armed man sitting at his side and facing him in the large nest of pillows and blankets. There were secondary clothes woven throughout the bed, and he thought it looked quite fine.

“Are you… We cover ourselves because it would be indecent—”

“Why?”

“Why?”

“Why is not wearing clothes indecent? You have a good build, fine hair. You look good. Should you not be proud of such things?”

Malik blinked again.

“As an eagle I wore nothing but my feathers. I was beautiful and proud—perhaps not so much now. But you are beautiful and proud. Why do you not show yourself off and attract a mate?”

He could see Malik trying to come up with an answer. He had asked his Master this before, after he had tried several times (unsuccessfully) to get him into clothes. The answer had been much simpler, much easier for his underdeveloped human brain to handle. Now, he wanted real answers.

“Because… the human body is a private thing, shown only after the intimacy of wedlock has been achieved.”

“Why? Why not show yourself off? I bet that the women in the gardens of Masyaf would much rather try to gain your attentions than the attentions of the ugly old man.”

Malik sighed. “It is a law of the culture, Altair.”

“Why do you not chastise me for not wearing anything to bed?”

“Because between us, I do not mind.”

“I bet the people on the street would not mind seeing you show off, either.”

“Think of it this way,” Malik began, using his arm to rub Altair’s back, “do you remember the fat man you had as a mark? The one with the party and the poisoned wine?”

Altair nodded.

“Would you want him to show off his body?”

Altair’s nose wrinkled, and he made a sound of disgust.

“Exactly. And we do not have feathers to preen and shine, but small patches of hair to provide some semblance of warmth in the chilly desert nights. During the day, our clothes help keep heat away under the sun.”

That made sense in an odd way. Altair studied him. “Then how do you attract a mate? You do not claim territory as eagles do. You do not fight others as eagles do. You do not show off your body as we do.”

“Through arranged marriages.”

“You don’t pick?”

“Sometimes, although that is rare.”

“How if it is not arranged?”

“Through use of our personality and charm.”

Altair blinked several times, then huffed and closed his eyes. “You humans are weird.”

“Yes, but to us, you eagles are beautiful, powerful, mysterious creatures.”

Altair puffed up with pride slightly, smiling as he fell asleep. He woke early that morning, twined with Malik in the nest and wondering about the day ahead. Malik stirred briefly as he got up and dressed to go and fetch breakfast. By the time he returned, both the novice and his friend were up and about.

“Finally,” Malik huffed. “I thought perhaps you had tripped over a rock and were unable to walk back.”

Altair rolled his eyes, but handed him the food. Malik helped him dress in the full assassin uniform, then he sent him on his way. He attended the funeral, slipping between the people like a ghost, and when he was revealed, he screeched and flew at his attacker. It wasn’t until all the men around him were dead he had managed to get him to take the helmet off, and his eyes grew wide.

“What sorcery is this?”

Robert de Sable had been a man. He was sure of it. After hearing her explanation, he raced back to Malik, ready to share his news. He had to go warn King Richard. He had to protect his lands. He had to protect everything he had, and he was going to track down Robert and kill him. He got a gut feeling something horrid would happen otherwise, and he wasn’t going to ignore his gut again.

“It was a trap!” Altair shouted.

“I heard the funeral turned into chaos. What happened?”

When he told him what happened and his plan, he wasn’t surprised Malik tried to stop him. He shrieked with fury.

“Did you not learn your lesson when you lost your brother? I was right, Malik! Kadar shouldn’t have come! I must go now! We must strike while they are still getting ready! That is the law of fighting! You hunt your prey and strike it before it notices you! If it does, you kill it before it can decide to flee or fight! I will go there! I will go now!”

As he turned to leave, he heard Malik say softly, “Be careful, brother.”
He paused and looked at him. “I will be. I promise.”

He had his feet in the saddle as he pounded down to Arsuf. He ripped through the guarding ranks with an unmatched fury. He shrieked when he saw King Richard in the back, dozens of soldiers in front of him. He gave him the truth, and he was pleased to hear that King Richard would let him decide in a fight.

“Surely God will side with the one whose cause is righteous.”

He could feel power course through his veins as the soldiers approached, and he threw his head back, letting out a chilling screech as he plunged into the fray. He caught sight of King Richard several times throughout the fight, noticing the astonished face as he tore through the enemies, biting, clawing, and ripping his way until just Robert was left.

The only problem was that he was exhausted. He had many injuries, and as Robert slowly cornered him, he screeched.

“Where is your strength now, assassin?” King Richard called. “Has the fury that filled you to rip apart your enemies now so left you?”

He inhaled, panting. He couldn’t see out of one eye, blood from an injury on his head dripping into his vision. He blinked, rubbing his eye furiously. He heard Robert laugh and saw him raise his sword. He raised his arms feebly, ready to take the hit, when he heard a shriek from Robert. He looked to find an eagle attacking the man. It seemed familiar to him, but he didn’t dwell long as Altair raced forward, energy filling him once more, long enough to plunge his blade into Robert’s chest as the eagle took to the skies as he spoke to him on his deathbed.

Once he died, the eagle landed a few feet away, screeching once, and Altair studied it briefly before making a soft whistling sound. It hopped forward as he held his arm out, feeling weariness sink into his bones. It fluttered onto his arm and studied him with intense golden eyes. His mate had found him. He couldn’t believe it.

“It seems God favors your cause this day!”

He held out a finger, letting the eagle nip at it, and he felt relieved as he spoke with the man briefly. As he turned to leave, he heard Richard chuckle.

“May I have my hunting eagle back first?”

Altair looked at him, blinking owlishly. When one of the men stepped forward, his mate dug her talons into his arm as she flapped wildly, and he winced. The men stepped back, and she calmed.

“It appears she has connected with you, assassin. I will find another. Take her with.”

Altair looked at him. “Do not. There is only grief that can come from taking an eagle. Our bond is much deeper than you suspect.”

He got on his horse and rode for Masyaf. There were some things to ask that ugly old man. His mate soared above him as he rode, and eventually, he had to pause to clean his injuries. He unwound the bandages on his head, and he laughed when his mate nipped at the short baby fuzz. He made a noise in the back of his throat to comfort her, and she took to the skies again, returning with a hare for the two of them. He cooked his portion, and by the morning, he was full of fighting spirit, that possessive pride that he had held when he flew the skies returning. He was standing on the back of the horse, ready to protect the lands he had fought for and claimed, and he could feel the wind ripping across him, his mate weaving from one side to the other ahead of him. As he rode into Masyaf, he stormed to the gates, only to be assaulted by his fellow assassins. His mate dived into the fray, willing to help him fight. Eventually, Malik appeared from nowhere with his men, and Altair blinked, panting, the adrenaline coursing through his body as he prepared to keep fighting.

“Al Mualim has betrayed us.”

“Yes, betrayed his Templar allies as well.”

“How do you know?”

He listened to Malik’s explanation, thoroughly surprised when he told him there were even more details about his creation in Robert’s journals.

“Where did the eagle come from?”

Altair smirked. “This is my mate of many years, Malik. There will be time for introductions later. Safety and peace, friend.”

“Your presence here will deliver us all.”

He flew through the grounds to get to Al Mualim, his mate circling above, waiting to help. He could hear the hum of the thing that created him. When he finally convinced the ugly old man to fight him, he was pleased to see his girl dive bomb one of the ghosts, and it was easy to fight as he plunged his sword into the apparition of the marks he killed. He ploughed through the clones, and when he was down to the last one, his mate flew off and settled on the roof a bit away, looking ragged and bleeding in several places. Al Mualim looked as if he knew he was going to lose, and as Altair plunged his blade into his throat, he was enveloped in a brilliant golden light.

He blinked, looking for his mate and noticing her on a perch. He called her down, watching as she flew tiredly down to him. He gently preened her as she tore into the kill in front of them. He made a soft whistling sound, and she responded in like. He didn’t know where this was, but they’d have to nest here until she was better. He paused, straightening and fluttering his wings as he watched several odd beasts coming bumbling in. After looking them over, and deciding the one at the lead would do him no harm, he returned to helping preen his mate, gently cleaning her feathers for her.

She fluttered her wings, and he whistled softly again as she tore another piece of flesh from the carcass in front of them. He fluttered his wings again and hopped a bit to adjust so he could preen her easier. Those odd beasts were calling to each other, and he paused to watch them, tilting his head as he blinked. His mate whistled, and he returned his attentions to her, slowly working through the feathers. He paused again when he heard the soft crunch of the odd beasts walking. The leader was walking toward them, and he hopped onto the carcass, screaming and fluttering his wings to warn him to stay away.

The odd beast stopped, and he watched it closely before hopping back and going to preen his mate. When the creature dropped to its three legs, he straightened, tilting his head. Even his mate was watching as the odd beast starting calling to its pack mates. He gave a warning shriek and continued preening his mate. As long as the leader stayed away and didn’t try to nab their food, he would let the beasts stay. He watched as the beast slowly crept forward, and he was ready to attack if it tried anything. It was holding a small, round thing in its paw, and he was somewhat curious, but his first duty was to his mate. He kept preening her until the beast was on the other side of the carcass, and he stopped, staring at it as his mate ate.

He whistled again to her, and she stopped, fluttering off to the perch. The odd beast jerked, and he blinked as he watched it as it slowly reached one paw out. This was such a strange creature. He nipped at the fingers, pleased when retracted, and he tilted his head again. He started calling to its pack mates again, and he watched the odd beasts leave them alone. He ruffled his wings, wary of the paw that was reaching back out. He straightened when the paw touched the underside of his chin and started moving slightly. It felt nice. He fluffed up, and the odd creature continued to stroke his head. There was something about this creature he trusted.

It pulled back and fiddled with the round toy again, and he hopped across the carcass, looking at it curiously. When it started to glow after he knocked his beak against it, he screeched and took off into the air, but he only got a few flaps away before he was engulfed in the light, and he fell, landing hard on his rump. He blinked, listening to his mate shriek and call for him, and he went to respond, but found his wings were hands once more.

“Huh?”

“My apologies, Altair.”

Altair looked over his shoulder, still garbed in assassin’s gear as he had been, and saw Malik sitting next to Al Mualim—who was dead.

“We still need you.”

“Need me?” He tilted his head all the way to the side. “Need me for what?”

“We need the master assassin.”

Altair blinked. He was human again. Malik rose and walked toward him.

“I am truly sorry, Altair, but you cannot leave us yet.”

Altair screeched, and his mate glided from her perch.

“I need you, Altair. If I did not need a face to put forth as our leader—one that is whole and can deliver Death’s blow to my enemies—I would have let you keep your form.”

“I want—”

“I know, Altair! But, as much as I hate to admit it, you are what we need right now! For several years yet, and then you can return. You are an excellent leader, Altair, with skills and instincts that no human has.”

Altair blinked, then made a mourning call. He just wanted to go back to his territory—patrol his skies. He covered his face with his hands—how he loathed the things. They couldn’t make him fly. He was too heavy, covered in thick flesh and solid bone, and it almost hurt as he screeched, rocking forward and burying his face in the dirt. He screeched again when he felt a hand on his shoulder blade and nip at his ear. He wanted to go home. He wanted to be free.

“Altair…”

He screeched again, curling his fingers in the baby fuzz on his head, and he could feel Malik move to gently pry his fingers off.

“Please, Altair. If you truly want to return, I will change you back, but we need you.”

He shook his head vigorously before falling still, both of his hands in Malik’s. He curled his fingers around the man’s hand, listening to the soft whistle of his mate. He could feel her rub her beak against him, fluttering her wings gently. He could hear strands of Malik singing as they sat there, an old lullaby he had heard him hum several times before. It took a while, and it wasn’t until all the assassins were gathered in the garden behind him that he even stirred again, sitting up as he held his friend’s hand.

“This place can be rebuilt, Altair, but it will take more than I to do so.”

His mate made a soft whistling sound as she moved closer, and he reached out to pet her gently. He just wanted to go home.

“Please, Altair.”

It took a while before he could respond, shaking his head as he murmured, “I suppose.”

Writeranon! here. Sorry for the long wait, was coaching 11-yrs old at a tournament...

Glad you liked the dress and shoes. It was fun but took a while to find.

I'll try to head towards the threesome but haven't ever written one so we'll see where this goes. (Actually haven't written anything this long for years so I'm happy I got this far)

AND I LOvE YOU FOR COMMENTING AND GIVING ME BRAIN FREEZE WITH YOUR SUGGESTIONS! <3 <3

Update is coming in a day or two...

Hug him, anon. Hug him well.

We salute you writer!Anon. We are also always here to make suggestions that cause brain malfunctions! Happy to help! ^^

As such, I think I will stare at my inbox and repeatedly hit refresh for the next day or two... Must see reactions~ *Insert drool and brain smoke here* :D

I...I can't believe it.
I'm cheering for a minstrel.
D8
lol, cute fill, write!anon!

wow, this story is fucking brilliant! It was so intense I read all parts in one go. I am totally awe-struck at how beautifully you portrayed Altair as an eagle !! It felt so right. You've really made an awesome job, writeranon!

:DD I'm glad you like it OP! I was inspired the first minute I read the prompt so I had to fill it quick! My face is in a permanent grin now because of your comment ha ha and that's true, arquebusiers are kind of loners...I didn't even think of that at the time lol!

Yes, the poor minstrels having to suffer your cruel treatment. :C Just kidding, I think everyone's shoved the persistent bastards. So glad you enjoyed. <3

Just as planned muah ha ha! xD Thanks anon, I'm glad you liked it!

THAT WAS BEAUTIFUL

Ee hee, good job Anon! This is the anon from above who said they had a fill. I think I like yours better than mine though. Poor Ezio, having to crash at La Volpe's to escape all the scary women-folk. I bet Machiavelli's gonna find somewhere else to be too.

ROFL that was amazing, in every way.

OP here. Sorry for the late response. I didn't have an access to a computer for a while.
This totally didn't suck. In fact, I loved it. It made me grave for more consensual Robert/Altair. Thanks :D.

Thanks for the compliments! Yeah, the Hideout is going to be avoided by all the dude-thieves and the mercenaries for a little bit.

Oh, no! Post it Anon, nobody has shown what it's like in the Hideout yet! I think Machiavelli is a little OOC here (Now that I've had a chance to think about it,) but I needed somebody to hold the Idiot Ball, and the game designers had him do it so well in Brotherhood. :P

Show me up, have your Machiavelli be terribly competent!

like, OC's as the non-cast members, or just not folks who get named in the game?

I am sorry for the wait on the Ezio/Lupo-Vittorio smut! I have some ready to post but I am still writing on it. (long sex scene is looooooooong) I want to know if anyone is around this weekend and would like me to start posting it soon (tonight after I get home from work) or if it would be better if I waited until the writing on this part was complete.

A time jump of some amount is coming up soon so things will progress in the actual plot after this smut concludes. <3

That's my question. OP? VittorioFan!anons? Random!Anons? Let me know what you want me to do. I am still heavily invested in this story so don't fear abandonment. It's gonna get really good with drama and lust and injuries and fighting and love and sacrifice and angst and silliness and humor and of course more heavy introspection.

Thanks for your patience anyone who is still out there!

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 246 of 322

Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt.3

"Anon" OP

Re: "Anon" OP

Re: Hero in a Helmet 2/2

Re: Machiavelli/Recruit?

Re: Ezio + Recruits [GEN FOR PETE'S SAKE]

Re: Ezio + Recruits [GEN FOR PETE'S SAKE]

Re: That's just a normal day- FILL 4b/?

Pheonix's Soul, Eagle's Body 10

Pheonix's Soul, Eagle's Body 11

Pheonix's Soul, Eagle's Body 12

Pheonix's Soul, Eagle's Body 13

Re: Shake it up baby 2/?

Re: Fail!fill

Re: Shake it up baby 2/?

Re: Hero in a Helmet 2/2

Re: /self-fill: Reading Together 1/2

writeanon

writeanon

Re: Hero in a Helmet 2/2

Re: Ezio + Recruits [GEN FOR PETE'S SAKE]

Re: Ezio + Recruits [GEN FOR PETE'S SAKE]

Re: Fill 4

Write anon for above untitled Story

Re: Ezio/any, gangbang

The way to fly. (Writeanon has a question)