#no thoughts only kenways

[alethiometry]

kenways & friends + polaroid movie posters (insp.)

[grimmboytezxd]

[especiallyhaytham]

Some of the 1700s gang + twitter posts

[teecupangel]

Colossal Squid! Desmond and I'll give you my bones

“Have you heard the legends of the Kraken, Shay?”

“Every sailor has.” Shay answered politely, glancing at their guest.

Even as bitter wind gripped its claws at them, Haytham Kenway looked as prim and proper as a gentleman on his way to watch an opera.

Shay, on the other hand, had pulled the fabric around his neck up to cover his freezing nose.

“And do the stories tell of the Kraken a monster that destroys without any care of one’s status or upbringing?”

“The sea is a cruel mistress to all, Master Kenway.” Shay answered, glancing to his right. Gist just shrugged, obviously also a bit confused to why Haytham Kenway was talking about the Kraken all of a sudden.

“Yes, she is.” Haytham agreed as he walked towards the bow of the ship, “But the Kraken is not cruel.”

“He is playful and intelligent. He also has the habit of trying to show his displeasure using his limbs.” Haytham continued, making the other crew members stare at him, forgetting their tasks as they listened to a man who sounded like he knew the Kraken himself, “But above all else…”

“He is one ugly squid.” Haytham commented.

They would have laughed at that but the waters beneath them grew dark almost immediately.

Large tentacles rose from the depths and the crew shouted in fear and surprise.

Shay immediately ordered them to main the cannons but stopped when Haytham said, “It is no use. Human weaponry does not work on him.”

Shay froze, noticing that what he had thought to have been sunlight against the tentacles was actually…

Glowing lines that reminded Shay of the light of that device back in Lisbon.

For a brief moment, Shay was paralyzed, the fear and pain of that day flashing before him.

Haytham was still speaking and Shay tried to focus on his voice.

Haytham wasn’t there in Lisbon.

Shay wasn’t there in Lisbon anymore.

Haytham was his anchor to the present.

“The Kraken is what those who know nothing call him. The Templars though… had a different name for him.” Haytham continued calmly, as if the ship had not been kept in place by tentacles coiling all around it. There was no creaking sound and that only made Shay more frightened.

The Kraken knew how to control its strength so it wouldn’t damage the ship, only keep it immobilized.

That kind of intelligence…

“Desmond.”

Shay frowned.

Where have he heard the name before?

“The sea monster that Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad tamed. The ruler of the seas that cares for the Assassin Brotherhood.”

That’s right.

Shay heard Adéwalé talked about a ‘Desmond’ before. Shay had thought it was some kind of pet because Adéwalé talked about how it followed his old friend whenever he sailed.

One of the tentacles reach out towards Haytham and Shay shouted, “Master Kenway!”

Haytham raised a hand, stopping Shay from unsheathing his dual blades.

“Do not move, do not speak, do not even think.” Haytham ordered calmly, “He is here for me.”

“Will this be the day you drag me into the depths, Desmond?” Haytham asked, a slight curiosity in his tone, “Or will you still prolong this dance we share?”

The tentacle wrapped around his neck but, with how big the tentacle was, it wrapped his entire upper body instead.

Haytham didn’t seem worried, looking at the sea below as he stood at the very tip of the bow, “Well?”

Shay and the rest of the crew could only stare, frozen by fear and confusion, as Haytham was slowly lifted.

… before he was placed in the center of the ship. The tentacles uncoil around him slowly. There was a pause before it flicked Haytham’s hat off and Haytham simply gave a tired sigh.

The tentacles let go of the ship and returned to the depths of the sea.

It took a few seconds before the water returned to its normal color.

The entire crew gave out a relieved sigh as many of them fell on their asses.

“Master Kenway, what was that?” Shay asked and all of them turned to stare at the mysterious man as he picked up his hat.

“That was Desmond.” Haytham said as if he was just introducing a family friend he didn’t get along with, “The Sea Scourge of the Templars. He attacks every ship that shows its Templar affiliation. He won’t attack this ship though.”

“It won’t?” Shay couldn’t stop himself from sounding skeptical.

“As long as I sail with you, he will not.” Haytham said.

“Why?”

“Because that squid still believes I am my father’s son.”

[acc--deactivated]

𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙖𝙣𝙖 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨

„Sweet cunt and a sharp tongue, you're a dangerous combo, love.“

featuring: edward kenway

cw: praise, vaginal sex, semi-public i guess

synopsis: owning a tavern in havana means being used to pirates in your every day life, their crude words and behaviour. but you've never met a pirate going this far in attempt to apologize for a crewmate's bad actions.

note: „fy nghariad“ is a welsh phrase meaning „my love“ or „my sweetheart“ which i thought would be nice to include, but please tell me if i used it incorrectly, that would be kinda embarassing lol

18+ content - MDNI

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Havana is always warm, always welcoming and soft, with sunlight flooding through streets of beige and gold, full of laughter and peaceful existence.

Even at night, it feels like the warmth wraps around people like a soft coat, summer air resting between the buildings and mingling with the scent of the sea, darkness enlightened by warm lanterns and candles. The sound of joyful music, shanties and drunken laughter has become the soundtrack of your nights as bartender in the tavern and restaurant which are owned by your father, and you like to say that Havana is a place of joy, no matter the time of day.

You've done this job since your teenage years, are used to bar fights and lusting gazes resting on you, know how to handle men who try to let their hands wander, think they can whistle at you or spit out crude and naughty things.

Most of them know that it will only get them a ban from the house, or in worst case, a beating from your main visitors or an arrest by the guards, but sometimes, there still are idiots who try it, out of pure stupidity and falsely placed ego.

Citizens of Havana adore your tavern as a centre of the city, they know how to behave and have their fun in peace, but the pirates docking on the shore are a different story.

You can see it in their gazes, in the way they talk, the way they stride through the streets like they own them and the houses forming them, that they're looking for provocation, hungry for a fight.

Thankfully, most of them are more of an inconvience and not an actual threat, and you know how to handle them, know that a tavern is a pirate's favourite place, which gives you a slight advantage against them, even if it's just out of their sympathy for the rum you pour them.

It doesn't diminish your dislike for them, despite them being your costumers.

Pirates are a disease, you've always been told. And yet, you can't help but feel a thrill in your veins, feel your heart leap and your legs trembling when a strong hand grabs your chin from behind, gently, sensually lifts your head.

The soft light filling the dim walls of the empty, closed tavern flickers in your vision, soft tears of passion melting it to a blur along with the dark of the late night and a breathed, blissful sigh leaves your lips, forced out of you by the way the body of the man behind you rocks once more against you.

Pirates are the worst of the worst, you learned early in your life. And Edward Kenway is so good at being a pirate, at getting what he wants, that he might be something even worse, armed with those mischievous eyes, his charming smirk and skilled fingers.

You did not question the leathern bracers wrapped around his lower arms, the hidden blades you saw shimmering in the dim light when you served him and his men, and you didn't question the hooded robe hanging over the back of his chair, could only focus on the white lace-up shirt on his body, the cleavage that slightly revealed the tattoos spreading over his chest.

It was no surprise and nothing new when one of his men hit on you, spitting rude words from a drunk tongue in an attempt to seduce you. What did surprise you was how fast Adéwalé grabbed him by the scruff like a puppy to kick him out of the tavern, and the way Edward apologized to you, genuinely and gentle.

Most men did not act like this when they came to drink in your tavern, only laughed when their comrades harrassed a girl. It did not fit your world view, disturbed the evil picture you carried of pirates all these years of your life.

You couldn't help but smile at the way Edward looked at you, a mixture of apologetic and enthrilled, felt your breath hitch when he asked you what he could offer to beg your forgiveness.

The way his hands are now roaming your body, his husked breaths against your ear and his body pressed against yours is not what you had in mind at first, but you'll gladly take it as a form of apology.

He lets out a groan as he fills you, slides into you like you are made for him, slicked walls hugging his cock, clenching around his girth.

He fills you just right, hits spots you have never felt, makes you see stars despite the roof above both of your heads.

„What do you say, sweetheart? Think this'll make up for the inconvience?“ he husks against your ear, sends a new shiver down your spine that ends up right inside the heat pooling in your lower stomach, and you lightly lean your head back, feel the stubble of his beard brushing your ear.

Just when you're about to answer, he hits you with another thrust from behind, knocks the air out of you with the sheer depth of his movements.

You need a second to catch your breath, collect yourself, before a little smirk spreads on your lips.

„Thought a world-class-pirate would have more to offer“, you respond, with a low, seducing voice, a tone that lures him in, makes his breath hitch lightly, bearly hearable if he wasn't so close to your ear.

He's so close even that you think you can feel the way an amused smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, and you shudder again when his breath fans your cheek.

„Sly little thing, aren't ya?“

Before you can answer in an even brattier tone than before, you feel how he slightly pushes you down, makes you lean further forward until you're forced to hold onto the bar, driven further and further into the wood by his harsh thrusts.

He quickens his pace, makes you whine and moan with the way he fills you, tip kissing your womb, his slight curve brushing your sweet spots just right.

„Sweet cunt and a sharp tongue, you're a dangerous combo, love.“

His words and the deep tone of his voice only make you arch more in his grasp, make you hold onto the bar with one hand, while the other carries your balance on its wooden surface.

You feel your own arousal run down your thighs, feel yourself getting higher and higher on the wet sounds echoing through the room whenever he enters your aching cunt, your brain spinning around mixed feelings of confusion and arousal.

He's a pirate, a well wanted one as well, and yet you can not help but love the way he grabs you, the way he fucks you, the way he makes you feel.

When he leans over your back, one hand placed next to your body, the other one on your hip to hold you steady, you somehow forget how much his head is worth, how dangerous his hands should feel on your body.

It feels strange, but a spark of sympathy arises within you when he leans in further, buries you in his shadow as he pushes a soft kiss against the back of your neck, drowns you in the illusion of intimacy when he gently closes his teeth around the shell of your ear.

Edward doesn't seem like other pirates, doesn't initiate fights he can not win, doesn't harrass others, doesn't cause unnecessary ruckus to prove his ego. He smells better than most of them, covered in the scent of the sea, of salt and a hint of rum, but with an underlying note of herbs, probably because of salves that are used to treat wounds lingering his body.

And above all, he looks so handsome, a dark angel within a bunch of dirty, fattened and drunk pigs, his cheeky smirk more intoxicating than alcohol or money.

A smirk that is directed at you, resting on you as he observes you, watches you writher and shake beneath his movements. When you catch it from the corner of your eye, it fuels new fire inside of you, and your lips curl sweet and mischievously when you slightly raise your head to respond.

„Maybe you shouldn't provoke my sharp tongue too much then, captain.“

The word does something to him, you can feel it, notice the way he gasps for a second, slows his thrusts for the shortest bit. Then he suddenly slips out of you, both hands grabbing your hips and pulling you up, your back straightening for the shortest second before he turns you around, pulls you in by the waist and leans forward to push his lips against yours, catching you in a heated kiss that steals your breath, makes your knees weak.

You bury your right hand in his blonde hair, hold him close, while your other hand rests on the textile of his shirt, trying to hold onto soft linen while you sigh and feel your legs tremble.

As if he's feeling it, he lightly bends his knees, slides his hands from your hips to the back of your thighs to pick you up, makes you wrap your legs around his waist while your hands cradle his face and you sink further into his kiss, melt against his lips. You hear the rustling of clothes, feel how he picks up your discarded dress from the edge of the bar and spreads it on the counter, adjusting the textile before he sets you down on the wood, just to break from your mouth a few seconds later.

He smirks at your little gasp, licks his lower lip before raising his voice.

„Captain, huh? That a hidden request to join my crew?“

You gasp when you feel his fingers dig into the softness of your thighs, need a second to collect yourself before you scoff at his words, look at him through a glimmer of competition before you breathe out an „In your dreams, pirate.“

He only grins at that, eyes slightly narrowing as they slide down to his hands on your thighs, watches them when he spreads your legs to get new access to your leaking centre, his eyes staring shamelessly at it.

And just when you think to finally have the air to add another snarky comment, he suddenly thrusts back into you, one switft motion with which he fills you to the brim, makes you throw your head back as he falls back into a relentless rhythm, his cock slicking in and out of your warm wetness.

He leans over you again, holding you by the waist as he pounds into you, forcing high pitched moans and whimpers out of your throat that you simply can not hold back.

His thrusts feel so deep, hit you so perfectly and when he grabs one of your legs to raise it to his shoulder, you almost choke on the air in your throat, bliss filling you at the pleasure washing through you by his deepening movements.

You curse out an „Oh god-“ as you throw your head back, hear a breathed laugh from Edward when he grabs you by the hips again, adjusts your body on the textile of your dress, pulls you in to take his hard thrusts.

Another whimper leaves you as he partially folds you in half, sass and mockery leaving your body with each new thrust, slowly melting in the heat of a building orgasm within your body.

It doesn't help how he reaches out with his hand to search for your clit, forcing a loud moan from your throat when his finger presses against it.

„That it, darling? That the spot?“

Through your panting and heavy breathing, the dizziness in your vision, you see how he smirks at you, pure confidence written in his attractive features and you can only nod, breathe out a „Please-“, a word that only makes his smile widen.

Your lower body tenses, a coil clenching deep within your core, tight enough that it almost hurts.

„Don't hold back. Let me feel you come, fy nghariad.“

His voice slightly falters, breathless because of his own arousal, the tension with which he holds himself back, and his words only add fuel to the fire in your body, make the flames lap higher, reaching your chest, making your heart race.

Whimpers and gasps leave your throat, you tense, feel your thighs shiver, your entire body short-circuiting until eventually, you feel yourself breaking apart, tension and arousal reaching their peak, knocking you into an abyss of white noise, making you cry out in pleasure, your head falling back as arousal floods your veins.

His thrusts never waver, seem to get even harder, fucking you through your orgasm, almost making you pass out with the sheer overstimulation. Your brain turns to mush, simply melts away and when you look up at him, with tear-filled, flickering eyes and your tongue slightly peaking over your lower lip, he takes in a sharp, hissing breath, slipping dangerously close to an orgasm just by your gaze and your walls spasming, clenching and relaxing around him.

His hand trembles a little as he trails it further up your body, fondling your chest for a second and making you whine out at the soft feeling, before his fingers graze your neck, eventually rest on your cheek.

He spreads his thumb, runs it over the corner of your mouth, doesn't expect the way you push out your tongue to taste salt, gunpowder and rum on his skin. Not a second later, you allow his finger to slip into your mouth, relish in the way he draws a sharp breath when you lazily swirl your tongue around it.

The facade in front of his face cracks the slightest bit, and you see how he bites his lower lip, how his brows furrow a little in what seems to be despair, before he breathes out a „Shit, you're gonna make me cum, sweetheart.“

It's the cue you need and while you whine, shudder beneath each of his thrusts, you at some point slightly bite down into his finger, hard enough to make him jolt, hard enough to break his facade.

He gasps for air, lets out short „Fuck-“, before he holds onto your hip, digging the fingers of his free hand into the skin when he forces himself to pull out, holding you in place as warm, white seed spurts over the skin of your abdomen.

For a few moments, you only look at each other, breathe into the space between both of you, wallowing in the heat of each other's body. Your head is still spinning when Edward slightly leans forward, gently rests his forehead against yours before he lets out a heavy breath.

His eyes are dark and dominant when they dig into yours, captivate you with the slight glimmer within them.

„Aren't you just something else... Maybe I'll pick you up and simply take you with me. Wanna know what else that sweet mouth of yours can do.“

It doesn't matter what you learned your entire life, his words make you giddy and thoughtless, make your heart leap in joy and your lips curl to a smile.

„Careful, Kenway. My lips may seem sweet, but they come with a pair of teeth.“

He lets out a little groan, a sound of playful despair and frustration, before he leans further against your forehead, gently nudges his nose against yours.

„Fucking heavens, you're perfect.“

You smile when he kisses you, wrap your arms around him and become a mess of sweet nothingness beneath his hands when they start roaming your body again, not taking long until you throw your head back once more, sending sighed versions of his name into the warm night.

[elfven-blog]

Complacent Final

Summary: The light at the end of the storm (He's free babies!!)

Orca!Merman!Connor Kenway x Reader A mini series (The final)

CW: Drowning.

Dedication: A final thank you to @ramshackledtrickster for the inspiration, for their art and all the advice/information for the au. Thank you, truly! And in spirit of that, the art that inspired me from the start in our final header. Word count:3.7K

At first you heard nothing, saw nothing, smelt

nothing. You could barely feel anything but cold. Like your entire body had frozen.

You weren’t even sure you were alive. Just floating, almost, in nothingness. A dark empty void that not even the images in your mind seemed to be conjured in. Perhaps this is just what existence was, what it had always been.

Maybe you hadn’t drowned, maybe this entire time everything you’d seen was a dream or some kind of sick delusion. Merfolk. What a weird dream, you thought as you woke up. 

Your eyes blinked at the bright light, a yawn slipping from your mouth as your brow furrowed. A headache formed at the back of your skull causing you to groan as your hand reached to massage your temple.

Getting ready for your shift felt like it took forever as you finally managed to finish getting ready and once you were out the door, your chest felt heavy like you couldn’t breathe. You must be coming down with something, hopefully you could get through this shift and then you’d go to the doctor.

With a heavy sigh your hand pushed open the doors of the aquarium, the action making you pause. Hadn’t you just left your home? Maybe the headache and breathlessness was affecting you more than you thought.

It was weird as you put your bag and coat away in the lockers, it seemed so quiet. No one responded to your words or your smiles like normal. Even the visitors seemed to ignore you as you presented your usual rock pool creature demonstration.

They’d stand there, listening, watching but then you’d turn to look at them and suddenly they’d be facing away. Your hand massaged at your temples again. The pounding in your head was getting worse and your chest felt like a heavy weight settled on it.

It was unnerving, maybe you needed to go to the doctors after your shift today. A little boy lifted his hand up to ask a question but you heard nothing when you called on him. You couldn’t even see his face, no matter how much you concentrated on him there was no details. No flecks in his eyes, no light across his hair and his mouth didn’t move.

The saliva built up in your mouth as you tried to stutter out what you hoped was the right answer to an unheard question, the people around him only shaking their heads. You put the starfish and its rock back into the pool but when you turned back around, everyone was gone. Then there was that pounding again. 

As you finished the demonstration your watch pinged to let you know that it was time to clean the rock pool sides. You began making your way to the staff only area to get the equipment, that same little boy from the demonstration took your wrist and tugged you back with surprising strength. Grounding you to the spot as he tilted his head at you, he still seemed so wrong.

“Don’t you miss him?” His voice was clear this time, your brow furrowed at his question and the pain in your head returned accompanied by a shrill sound that made your hands fly up to your head while you dropped to the floor. The little boy turned to walk away, ignoring as your hand reached out for him, for someone, for anyone.

“-ey!” your head shot up and looked around “-ak- up!” a heavier weight on your chest made you cough before it was gone, and with a sigh you moved to the cleaning cupboard to get your equipment. Seemingly forgetting about the shooting pain and the boy.

The cleaning cupboard smelt of chemicals and it made your nose scrunch up. After getting out what you needed, you went to lock the door but stopped at the sight of a sign on the door. It’s a sign you’ve read over and over during your time in the aquarium. ‘All equipment for rock pools’ but on the bottom there was a bit of paper taped up that you had never seen before ‘please use for the orca too!’.

The orca? There were no Orca’s here, there never had been. You had to take a sharp breath as that same pain shot through your head, and your hand rubbed at your forehead to try and ease it. The bright lights probably weren’t helping. You shook your head before moving back to your rock pools but your head moved to the door on the other side, the boys words repeating “Don’t you miss him?” Him.

As your hand dipped into the water to wipe at the algae growing on the glass your brow furrowed when the water didn’t feel like anything, maybe you needed to change the temperature if it wasn’t cold enough. You let go of the sponge and you watched as it dropped to the bottom before pressing your hand against one of the rocks. Nothing. Normally it felt rough and coarse but nothing.

“-ose” rang through your ear like a high pitched squeal “Ple-“ 

Who was that screaming? Your hand rubbed at your temple and your head looked up to see who was making so much noise. The corners of your lips turning down when it seemed like no one else noticed.

“I ca-“ that heavy weight settled on your chest again until it was heavy enough that you were falling backwards, hands trying to hold onto something…anything.

And as you hit the ground a high pitched “Wake up! Please!” screeched through your mind. Everything hurt, it hurt so badly. Your eyes rolled back, the pain behind your eyes and in your temples bursting. 

Your mouth opened to scream but nothing came out, the weight too much for you to produce any sound.

Then your body rolled and you coughed up what felt like tons of seawater and bile. The taste is still on your tongue even after you'd stopped throwing up. Your eyes shooting open to see you were no longer in the aquarium.

Wet sand beneath your hands, water lapping at your feet and the feel of something, no. Someone rubbing at your back. A gentle shush whispered in your ear, comforting you until the coughing subsided and you were no longer vomiting seawater.

Your mind whirred and your vision was blurred as you tried to think but all you could remember was the sound of thunder and how wet everything felt. Then all at once your mind felt like it was bursting as months of memories seemed to flood your mind at once making you wince and curl up.

“It’s okay, you’re okay” that voice said again as hands wrapped around you and pulled you into their lap, your face instinctually burying into their neck which helped keep the light from your eyes. A hand rested on your back while another gently stroked your head, nails scratching so gently at your scalp and the pain in your head seemed to disappear at the feeling.

The body beneath you started vibrating as you relaxed, a purr filling the silence around you and when you could your head moved away from it’s sanctuary. You watched as the corner’s of his lips turned up, those brown eyes you knew seemed to soften and his entire body relaxes at the sight of you being okay “I thought I lost you there” he whispers as if worried that being too loud would shatter everything and this would be a dream.

How ironic you thought, your hand moving to rest against his jaw and your thumb stroked his cheek. That feeling of skin that transformed into the rubber of his whale skin against your thumb made you smile at him “Not yet” you answered him. And he tightened his hold on you, both of his arms wrapped around your body as he pulled you as close as possible and his face buried into your hair as he huffed against you.

It was strange, you thought, not the touching. You were used to that by now. No, it was the feeling of sun on your skin and sand beneath your legs. The wind breezed past you as it caused goosebumps on your skin. The sound of waves, and birds. The smell of the sea…of Ratonhnahke:ton surrounding you. 

You had never noticed he had a scent before, the smell of the aquarium must have drowned it out. But he did, Connor smelt of sea salt and sage. The perfect combination for the large merman you decided. Eventually you pulled away with a renewed worry in your veins.

“What happened to everyone else? Where are they? Are they-” He quickly cut you off by pressing his lips to your own, your eyes widened for a moment before they slipped shut and your hands rested against his chest. The muscles twitching under your palms as one of his hands pressed to the back of your head and the other squeezed at your thigh.

Kissing Connor was like home. Slow and gentle and it wasn’t as wet as you thought it would be. Considering he was a marine animal but he was still cold, his tongue traced the seam of your lips and you let your mouth fall open so he could tease through your lips. His tongue tracing over your teeth before pushing in to massage your own tongue, coaxing yours to do the same.

He kissed like it would be the first and last, until your lungs burned of oxygen and your hands clawed at his skin. The hand on the back of your head tangled in your hair to keep you in place while he took your breath away, when he noticed your lack of breathing he moved away from your mouth to kiss at the corner of your lip “They are fine, we got them to safety” You nodded, quite distracted from his words as both his hands moved to your hips while his mouth moved down to ghost across your jaw and neck.

And then he pulled away, grinning at how dilated your eyes were “I have been waiting to do that” he muttered before pulling you in for another kiss. This one was much like the last but it didn’t last as long and you frowned when he pulled away this time. Eyes blinking slowly as you tried to catch your breath, chest heaving from the slow deep breaths you were having to take.

“Maybe warn me next time?” The deep rumbling laughter rolled from his chest at your response, before he picked you up to settle you back on the sand. His tail splashing the water to cover himself in it again so he wouldn’t dry out “Wait wait!” you suddenly said, confusion in your eyes as you looked at him “Who’s ‘we’?”

And Connor grinned again before pushing himself down the beach “Come on, there’s some people I’d like you to meet” You followed him in your confusion, stumbling after the large Orca as he submerged himself into the water. Surely it was a bad idea to follow him into water after you’d just woken up from drowning.

But you followed anyway, gasping when he appeared again from the dark water to take your hand. Swimming close to the surface so that you could stay above water and you could follow him. It didn’t take long for you to reach where he was taking you, and your mouth dropped at the sight of the ship still floating in the water. 

She was a little worse for wear with loss of paint and some bits looked broken but she was still floating. You could see Faulkner standing on the bow nodding down at someone in the water as he spoke to them, and your eyes widened a little more at the sight of multiple merfolk swimming around the ship. Some of them brought wood and things to the crew while others seemed to have what looked like food in their hands.

Ratonhnhake:ton led you to the woman who was talking to Faulkner, the captain lighting up as he saw you both approach “You’re alive!” he shouts and the others on the ship clamber to the side, grinning and shouting all at once to you. The noise was loud and overwhelming but none of it was too much for you as you grinned up at them all. Connor’s arm wrapping around your waist to help keep you stable.

Once everyone had finally settled down, the Orca diverted your attention to the merfolk that had been talking with Faulkner. You noticed as his hand tightened its grip, his thumb rubbing up and down your skin and his tail seemed to flick a little more under the water as the woman’s eyes set themselves onto you.

Oh how beautiful she looked in the light of the sun rays, almost a halo formed around her as she swam a little closer. She was smaller than Ratohnhake:ton,she was different shades of grey and her tail was less structured than his too. But those eyes and that nose were the same, and the hair braided on her head was slightly darker shade of brown than his. His mother you realised, and suddenly you understood his nervousness as it flooded your own system.

“This is my mother” Connor introduced you both, his hand loosening against your hip as he smiled “Ziio” and he frowned for a split second, clearly uncomfortable at using his own mother’s name.

She said nothing as she watched you for a moment, and you couldn’t help but think of how similar the look in her eyes felt to that of her marine counterpart but all that melted away when she smiled and wrapped her arms around you “Thank you” she whispered in your ear, her voice felt like a gentle wave washing over you “Thank you for bringing riien:’a home to me”

Connor seemed to grumble next to you as his mother pulled you away from him, his arm slipping from your waist while your own wrapped around the Sea Leopard. She was significantly smaller than her son, but she had fur and it felt rather smooth beneath your fingers. She pulled away after a while, her hands staying on your shoulder as she smiled “I promise I am not as scary as my marine counterpart” Then she winked at you before pulling away “I am just as fluffy on land though”

She was like a summer breeze you decided, the cooling component needed during a stifling heat. Once she was away from you she swam a little closer to her son, pushing him down into the water with a click of her tongue as her hands began to fuss over his hair. You laughed as Connor avoided your gaze, suddenly interested in the bracelet on his wrist as the skin on his neck and face burned from the blush.

“You’re embarrassing the poor boy” came another voice before an oar poked at Connor’s mother. A large sea turtle appeared behind them, the older man tilting his head as regarded you for a moment before turning back to Ziio. Distracting her with something and taking her away to speak with some more seafolk.

“Don’t mind the old turtle, Achilles is more of a solitary creature these days” Ratonhnhake:ton says as his hand reaches for your wrist again so he could pull you back into his embrace. He takes his time to lead you around the gathering of merfolk, introducing you to each and everyone. You’re more than happy to do it.

By the end of the meet and greet, the sun is starting to set and the warm air is becoming cold. Connor leads you back to the boat, and the crew help you climb aboard. You’re finally able to change your clothes and eat once you’re inside.

And Faulkner sits down with you to discuss what’s next, it eats at your heart as you talk. You know you can’t stay here in the middle of nowhere, and you can’t go with Connor. You aren’t a merfolk, you can’t breathe underwater. You don’t belong in his world just as much as he didn’t belong in yours.

Faulkner decides that you’re all leaving tomorrow. The decision makes your veins freeze and you dismiss yourself as you go to the cabin you’d had for the journey. While laying on it your mind whirls with ideas, plans and just anything that could mean you could stay with him. But you know it’s not feasible, there isn’t a way to stay here forever in the sea with him. 

A knock on the glass of your cabin startles you but any nerves are wiped away when you turn your head to see your Orca smiling at you through the window. You immediately walk over to the small window, your hand pressing to the glass and his own does the same before he points upwards which makes you tilt your head and furrow your brow.

He gives you an frustrated look, his mouth straightened into a line and his eyes rolling with a shake of his head. His hand pointing behind you and you follow it to the door before looking back at him where he now points upwards. He pretends to celebrate when you get up and walk to the door and you stick your tongue at him in response.

Once you're back on deck you notice that most of the crew has either gone to bed or are talking with some of the merfolk over the railings. It makes your heart lighter to see everyone interacting with each other in such a warm way. Your own hands make contact with the railing, your thumb rubbing at the cold metal as memories swarm to the front. 

Cold splashes of water, distant thunder and the feeling of sinking into the dark abyss fill your mind before they’re swept away by his hand on yours. And you’re back with him again as you smile down at him, his own lips twitching upwards “I wasn’t gone for very long” you whisper to him in the dark of night.

His large shoulders shrug as his hands move to pull himself up onto the deck before he rolls over onto his back so he can balance on his hands in a sitting position rather than laying on his front. You sit next to him, your back pressing to his side as his arm slings around you. Resting his hand on your stomach as you both sit there a look up at the sky.

“I missed the stars” He finally says to you, his eyes bright as he smiles with his head tilted up. His hair flowing down his shoulders, the braid sitting on his chest and then his eyes slipped closed as he takes a deep breath “Thank you”.

You spend hours with him on the deck, with him telling you the stories his mother had told him of the stars, and of the stories his grandfather had told him from his travels around the world’s oceans. He makes you laugh as he recalls, what you doubt to be real, a story his grandfather had told him about fighting off a pirate trying to get his fins. In turn you tell him as many stories as you can remember of the stars from your people, the constellations and their tales seeming to bond you both all the same.

By the time you ran out of stories for each other, the first rays of daylight had started to appear and suddenly your heart felt heavy. Connor noticed your change in behaviour, hwo you went quiet and seemed to sit there playing with his fingers.

“What is it, treasure?” he mumbled as his hand took your jaw so he could direct your gaze to him, his lips pressing to your forehead and purring gently to try and soothe you “Tell me”

“We’re leaving today” He froze at your words, pulling away for a moment with a bewildered look in his eyes. His thumb rubbing at your jaw “Faulkner thinks it’s time to go before another storm hits”

Ratonhnake:ton takes a deep breath at this, the look in his eyes sharpening to sadness as he nods “That is wise'' he lets go of you but not before pressing his lips to your own “You must remain safe”. Once his lips part from yours, he pulls himself off the boat with the railings and splashes back into the water beneath.

“I’ll come back, I will” You shout as you lean over the edge, but it’s too late. Connor’s already gone and your eyes can’t find any sign of his black and white tail in the dark waters “I don’t know how but I will”.

As you opened the door of your home, you took a deep breath and your head tilted as your entire body seemed to feel light all of a sudden. You shut the door behind you and dropped your bag on the floor, before ridding yourself of your coat and shoes. Once all of that was done you slid open the door that led to your back garden.

A smile on your face as you took the towel that you kept near the door before practically bolting down to the shore. The corners of your lips pulled down when there was no sight of who you were after yet you spread the towel out anyway and shimmed out of your clothes until just your swimming costume was left.

As you lay on the towel, your eyes drifted shut for a moment but they flew open at the feeling of something large wrapping around your ankle and pulling you down the beach a little more until the waves lapped at your body “You are late” rumbled a deep voice in your ear as arms wrapped around your body.

“Sorry! Sorry! We had an octopus to help, his poor tentacles got trapped” The Orca hummed as he listened to you ramble on about the mimic octopus you had spent the past few hours helping. His head burying into your hair as he lay there with you, his body covering your own as your hands moved to run through his hair. He would happily listen to your rumble for the rest of his days.

[sweetcocopowder]

Day Twenty Five: Rough Sex

Synopsis: Haytham needs to let off some steam and he loves to rile up Shay. But maybe he's gone a little too far with somethings he has said tonight.

Word Count: 3.8K

Pairing: Haytham Kenway / Shay Cormac

Warnings: Rough sex. Anal sex. Spit as lube. Manhandling. Name calling. Begging. Biting. Marking.

Notes: I wrote this like, ages ago in march sometime when I saw a shay fanart of @especiallyhaytham 's. Thank you for the go ahead in march to write something inspired from that art piece. I'll find it and tag it in this post when I have the time haha. It's currently late when I'm posting this fic.

It’s Haytham’s foot that Shay trips on. The tavern becomes as silent as a cold night as Shay lands on the wooden floorboards heavily. The former assassin should have been able to regain himself easily. But with the amount of ale and whiskey flowing through his flush cheeks, he all but faceplants into the floor.

Gist stares wide eyed before he turns his attention back to the bartender and his drink. He’s aware of the mood that his Captain is in tonight and the last thing he wants is to be caught in the middle of it. He takes a slow, long slug of his ale. He doesn’t dare get in the middle of the two.

Shay silently gets his hands underneath him. His hair spews around his face, his band coming loose in the tumble. He doesn’t get up right away, the knock to his head making his already light head spin. His stomach churns, but he keeps the contents of his stomach down with a thick swallow.

The Grandmaster on the other hand, looks down to Shay from the corner of his eye. A frown sits deeply on his features, his brows furrowed with disappointment. He uncrosses his hands from behind his back and taps two fingers on the bar. The bartender perks up, making sure that it’s his attention Haytham wants. He places down the glass he’s cleaning and takes only two steps towards the Grandmaster.

“A glass of water please,” Haytham says firmly.

The bartender is quick to grab what is needed. His fingers work nimbly, grabbing a glass, giving it a quick wipe out before filling it with stale water from a small barrel. Something that Haytham personally wouldn’t drink but that’s not his intention.

Shay stands up, swaying where he stands. He opens his mouth to speak but all is forgotten very quickly. The glass full of water is thrown into Shay’s face and the Irishman barely flinches. The water drips from his chin and drenches his hair to his face. Gist can’t look away this time, his mouth agape with shock and terror.

The bartender takes two steps away from Haytham.

Shay wipes his face of water, his brown eyes staring dangerously at his Grandmaster. He pushes his hair backwards and out of his face, his eyes never leaving the man in front of him. He can feel everyone’s eyes on him. He doesn’t dare turn around to meet these newfound judges of the drunk. But he feels the most sober now than he’s been this entire night.

The Irishman will give himself some credit here. He did warrant this behaviour from Haytham. Urging him on and pestering him when all Haytham wanted was a report of the week’s events to him. He could have waited. He knows he could. But he wanted it now, like some spoiled child.

And maybe because he wanted to see Shay. And maybe it’s been only a week but this Irishman has weaved his way into Haytham’s life and it’s infuriating. And to top everything off, the first thing that Shay does is come to the closest tavern with his crew instead of reporting to his Grandmaster first. He knows something must have gone unsatisfactory on his hunt for the former Assassin. Haytham thought he grinded out all those habits. But this habit is one that Haytham has been trying to break, and it isn’t going too well right now.

Haytham sets the empty glass back on the bar with a soft, tink. “I was expecting you in my office, not here acting like an insufferable buffoon as soon as you hit the dock,” he speaks as if he’s scolding a teenage boy.

And that only gets on Shay’s nerves even more. But he bites his tongue. He knows his place. He may not be the best at speaking to his superiors, but he knows when the time and place is. Yet Shay’s hands clench into fists as a single drop of water drips from his nose, trying to hold things together the best he can.

Two hands clasp Shay from behind, dragging him away. Gist chuckles lightly to his Grandmaster before him. Shay’s wolflike eyes never leave Haytham. Many, many thoughts run through his head and none of them are pure.

“I do apologize for the Captain here, sir,” Gist expresses his regrets as he makes Shay take another step backwards. “Our week was filled with mishaps and whatnots. We were to hope that the ale would lesson our… irritation before attending your office, sir. I can have that report on your desk by tomorrow morning!”

Haytham will give the Templar one thing, he is good with his words when he needs to get out of something, and maybe that’s just the reason he’s in the Order. But that alone isn’t going to get Shay out of this one.

“I want it on my desk before midnight, tonight,” Haytham speaks sternly, his voice as solid as stone.

Shay suddenly rips himself out of Gist’s hold and straightens himself up. He pats down his coat and flicks away the loose strand of hair that has fallen over his face. His cheeks are flush with ale and his teeth gleam as he smiles like a wolf that snarls at its prey. Haytham watches the wolf closely.

“It’ll be there,” Shay speaks without the slur that was thick on his tongue before. “I’ll see to it personally, sir.” He mocks the formality of his politeness with a slight bow of his head. “Good night, Grandmaster.”

And with that, the wolf stalks out of the tavern as loudly as he had come in, pushing someone aside that dares not move from his way. Haytham watches Shay leave with a frown and his nose slightly scrunched.

“I do-“ Gist starts but stops when Haytham raises a hand.

“No need,” he says. “The report will be there. That is all that is needed.”

Gist nods and doesn’t push any further. With a glance out of the corner of his eyes, Haytham leaves with a small nod of his head. He leaves the Boston tavern with his hands clasped behind his back, the same way he entered.

The Boston night is lit by the amber streetlamps and the ally ways loom with an eery darkness. It’s oddly quiet tonight for this time of the hour. He only passes a few other men that dare walk this late. Haytham keeps his pace unwavering and his shoulder square, his ears pricked for any noise. But none come. No dangers stop him. He arrives at his house just fine.

It’s a satisfactory house on the outskirts of Boston. Two storeys with a nice garden that is well looked after by the men that Haytham have hired. The curtains are drawn closed and the lights are off.

All but for the office window. A yellow light can be seen from inside, the curtains blowing out of the open shutters. Haytham hums to himself but doesn’t find it surprising when he finds the front door unlocked. How many times has he told him not to do that.

Haytham leaves his tricorn at the entrance but doesn’t bother with his coat. He takes his time going up the stairs and turning to his office. The door opens with a click and inside, as expected, stands Shay.

He stands with his back to Haytham, his hand outspread on a rolled-up piece of paper on the table keeping it open. The report from the week and Shay’s scouting. He lets go of it and the paper rolls back up, bouncing once on the table before becoming still. There was no time to go back to the Morrigan and retrieve the report. He must have had it on him the entire time. Explaining his arrogance from beforehand.

Shay’s hair is tide back but a few wet strands still fall over his scarred brow. He looks to Haytham with a deep-set frown upon his face from the corner of his eye.

“There was no need for that,” Shay spits out quietly.

Haytham rolls his eyes and wonders over to his desk. He keeps clear of Shay though, those wolf-like eyes never leaving him. He keeps to the other side of the table, knowing best from past experiences. But at Shay’s comment, Haytham can only sneer at it. He takes the report from next to Shay’s hand and reads over it lazily.

“Yes, I’m aware but you should know well that, that behaviour is not needed in public,” Haytham more mumbles than speaks it. He looks up from the report to the other, “Or have you forgotten?”

Shay all but roars as he slams a hand down onto the table. “Humiliation!? Is that something you’re so worried about!?” He bellows, his accent thickening and slurring with the alcohol still on his blood. Shay is never an angry drunk, Haytham knows what type he is. “I have a crew that will now snicker and speak of me behind my back!”

Haytham keeps a calm demeanour. Clearly, he overstepped tonight. Shay steps around the table and in unison, Haytham takes a small step back.

“Insufferable,” Shay chuckles at that. “I’m well aware, sir. I’ve been mocked and called such things my entire life.”

“I said no such thing!” Haytham barks, lying through his teeth. “That was my last intension!”

Shay almost snarls at that, taking a step forward. Haytham doesn’t move, instead standing up wider and taller, jutting his chin out. This only makes the situation worse.

“Last intention!?” Shay snaps as he jumps forward and grabs the front of Haytham’s coat. He pushes the other man into the wall with a loud thud. “You-“

Haytham grabs onto Shay’s hands and bellows over him, “You were the one that took a step out of line! You forget yourself sometimes behind these closed walls!”

Shay goes quiet but the fire of defiance still flickers within those dark eyes. If he wanted to harm Haytham, then he would have thrown him against the wall. This was more like a light tap to their standards.

Haytham continues, “You need to control yourself outside of these closed doors. Especially when you’re intoxicated. Otherwise I wouldn’t have to called you such insufferable things to drag you out of this la la land you like to-“ Desperate lips crash into his to silence him.

Shay’s grip on Haytham’s coat tightens as the kiss is all but romantic. It’s all teeth, sloppy and the faint taste of shit ale is still on his tongue. But Haytham returns it all the same. He grips onto Shay’s waists, urging him forward and closer. The hunger and anger behind Shay’s kiss is more on the lines of an assault. Haytham hisses as more than once his lips are bitten down on.

Haytham tries to get a grip in Shay’s hair to pull him away, but that doesn’t happen. Shay grips onto both of his wrists and slams them against the wall above his head with a loud thud. He holds Haytham up high that he almost has to stand on his toes. It takes the Grandmaster by complete surprise, forgetting just how strong Shay’s strength is.

Shay’s assault ventures to Haytham’s jaw where he bites and sucks at the stubbled skin. Haytham hisses in a breath of air, squeezing his eyes shut as the other continues down his neck. One hand holds onto Haytham’s wrist as the other rids his throat of his necktie and the first few buttons on his coat.

“I should mark you where everyone can see,” the Irishman hisses into his skin.

Shay bites down hard into the nape of Haytham’s neck that it breaks a deep groan from within his throat. He squirms a hand out of Shay’s grip and grabs onto the hunter’s throat, pushing him away. Shay snarls like some wild animal, quickly wrenching the hand from his throat to slam it back into the wall. Wolf eyes stare at him, teeth bared in a snarl.

“I don’t wish the need to cover up in public,” Haytham snaps but all that authority is gone from his tone with just how breathless he is.

Shay huffs a laugh, one that makes Haytham feel a little pathetic. He lets go of Haytham’s pinned hand to only grab him by the front of the coat and pull him across the room. The Grandmaster stumbles, almost tripping over himself if it weren’t for the grip in his coat. The next thing takes Haytham by pure surprise, Shay all but lifts him into the air to only slam him down onto Haytham’s desk with a loud crash. Haytham is surprised in that moment that he didn’t go through the wood with how much force was behind it. He grips onto the sleeves of Shay’s coat, teeth bared like a dog ready to snap.

“So, you get the privilege to be a grand Samaritan while I’m made the fool in front of others!?” Shay snaps loudly. “No. Not tonight. Tonight, I’m going to make sure everyone knows how improper the Grandmaster of the Templar Order can be.”

Haytham knows for his reputation he should push Shay off. He knows he could if he wanted to. But every single word of Shay’s goes straight to his cock. He can feel his face going a flush red that Shay notices well enough.

With the strength he showed before, Shay flips Haytham around and pushes him into the desk. Every single paper and report that was in order is now in disarray as Haytham is pushed over it. He goes to bring him off the table a bit but he’s all but slammed back down into the wood with a hand on the back of his head. His chest heaves against the desk, heart hammering within his ears. He keeps still, gripping the edge of the desk as he spies Shay from the corner of his eye.

His pants are quick to be torn off and they’re left to pool at his ankles. His cock is pressed painfully against the table, fully hard and twitching with every movement that he can feel happening behind him. He flinches as a firm hand grabs at his ass painfully. He breathes out lowly, trying to hold himself together but the low whine that comes from his throat has his face flushing.

Shay kicks his legs out wider with a boot, as far as Haytham can go with his pants still at his ankles. He feels very exposed, his ass on full display to the man behind him.

Yes, he’s riled Shay up in the past to get this result. But tonight, he thinks he’s gone a little too far. Yet he doesn’t find himself complaining about his current situation. Not when a rough, spit slicked thumb is pushed into his ass to knead him from the inside out. Not when a hand comes to grip into his hair and keeps his face pressed into the desk. And especially not when Shay begins to bite and mouth at the back of Haytham’s neck.

Haytham flinches, the desk creaking underneath them as Shay swaps his thumb out for two thick fingers. The older cringes at the burn, gripping onto the edge of the table with white knuckles. Shay thrusts a painful pace, working Haytham open on nothing but a little bit of spit. But it’s glorious and has Haytham groaning deep noises from his throat.

It doesn’t last long though, just enough to make sure that Shay is going to split him in two. Haytham wouldn’t mind, but now he at least knows that at least some respect towards him does shine through.

The head of Shay’s cock pushes at Haytham tight rim, smearing precum and fresh spit onto his ass. That’s the little warning Haytham receives before Shay is pushing in. He grinds his teeth together and groans a choked sob as Shay’s cock thrusts half way in. He pulls out a little before pushing all the way in, knocking a bark out of Haytham below him. He grinds his hips a little, causing a hiss to escape Haytham’s lips. It stings, yet his cock weeps are what Shay gives him.

Shay pulls out sharply to only begin a brutal pace. The first thrust knocks a pained moan from Haytham, tears springing to the corners of his eyes as he squeezes them shut. The table creeks with each movement and Haytham holds onto the table, his groans turning to moans as the pain slowly ebbs to pleasure. He turns his head to look at Shay but a hand threads through his hair to grip painfully at his roots, all to push his cheek into the hard wooden table.

“Sh-ah- Shay,” Haytham pants out, squeezing his eyes shut as he lets himself be used.

“Shut up,” Shay grunts out through clenched teeth. “I think you’ve said enough for tonight. Don’t you think?” He asks.

Haytham tries to look up at Shay, but he can only stare downwards into his table. He nods the best he can with Shay’s grip on the back of his head, the only noises slipping through his lips being pants and moans. He’s only let Shay ravage him a few times and with each passing time he’s only craved it more and more. Riling Shay up so that each pound of his dick into him is painful yet oh so pleasurable is something he’s found he loves. Letting go and having Shay have his way is enough to release all the months’ worth of stress he holds on to his shoulders.

Suddenly he cries out as teeth sink deeply into the nape of his neck. He squirms but Shay holds him in place as he maintains his pace, his hips only stuttering a moment before continuing on. A tear slips past his eyes as Shay laps at the bite with his tongue before he does it again on the other side of his neck. The table jolts loudly with how badly Haytham flinches. But all while his dick weeps painfully against the hard wood. He can feel sticky precum easing the painful friction he was panting over that was becoming unbearable.

Shay hasn’t touch him once and Haytham could cry out. His dick is trapped between him and the table, unable to reach. He slithers a hand down though, trying to wriggle in between himself and the table to touch himself but his efforts are short lived. Like before, Haytham’s wrist is grabbed and pinned into the wooden table with a loud thud.

“After the shit you pulled tonight you think you deserve to have some leisure?” Shay growls in his ear.

After a moment, Shay pulls out entirely. His hands stay where they are on his head and his wrist, not letting up for a moment. Haytham tries to wiggle back at the sudden loss of Shay but the Irishman holds him tight. Haytham’s eyes stare widely at the table, wondering what is going through that man’s head.

“I’d love to see the Grandmaster beg for it,” the grin in Shay’s voice can be heard from a mile away. “That would be a sight now wouldn’t it. Haytham Kenway, begging for cock.”

Haytham swallows thickly, brows furrowing. “You can’t be serious,” he murmurs.

The hand on his wrist disappears to only come back and slap him on the ass. He flinches, the table screeching a little across the floor. His dick twitches beneath him and he all but whines at the sting.

“Come on, Haytham,” Shay purrs. “I think you’ve gotten your way too easily in the past that you’ve all but forgotten what it’s like to beg and plead for shit these days. Wouldn’t do you any harm, might teach you some manners.”

Haytham hesitates, wondering if Shay is serious in this moment. He’s curious on what the Irishman will do. And as if waiting too long, a harsh slap is what he’s reward with that stings worse than the first. He groans deeply, his eyes fluttering shut as Shay kneads his ass with a large hand.

“Please,” Haytham breathes out quietly.

Shay towers over him again, bending down just over his ear. “Say that again,” his words curl around Haytham’s delirious head.

Haytham swallows thickly, peering at the other man from the corner of his eye. He must be a sight. Face pressed into the table, drool pooling around his face, hair a tangled mess. Must be ridiculously satisfactory.

“Please,” Haytham says a bit louder. “I need you to fuck me.”

Shay stands up, eyes wide at the profanity. “My, my, Who knew Haytham Kenway could have a such a dirty mouth on him,” he slurs, his accent thick.

“Oh pleas- AH!” Haytham cries out as Shay slams his entire length in. Haytham moans deeply, shakily breathing as Shay begins a quick pace, his cock hitting that sweet bundle of nerves with each pass. It’s all too much and has Haytham’s legs shaking where they’re pinned by Shay. The hand in his hair tightens and he finds himself only needing more.

“I want you to come only on my cock,” Shay grumbles down near his ear once again.

Haytham shivers at that, panting louder as louder as he can feel that coil of heat tightening in his gut. With his own dick trapped and getting only a little friction from where it is, he doesn’t think he can.

“No- I can’t,” Haytham stutters out.

Shay grabs one of the Grandmaster’s thighs suddenly with the hand that use to be on his wrist and brings it up so his knee rests against the table. The new angle gives Shay better access to drive into Haytham, all the better to drive into the older’s battered prostate. Haytham cries out, stuttering and moaning, trying to collect his breath the best he can but it’s futile. He feels every nerve come alive with each pass, his balls tightening as the tension coils even firmer.

“That’s it,” Shay groans. “Just like that.”

Haytham shivers, gripping onto the edge of the table as he cums. He cries out, his entire body shaking at how violent it is. He squeezes around Shay’s cock, stuttering him in his movement but he continues on. He knocks the moans out of the Grandmaster as he rides him through his orgasm, loving the way that his face scrunches up and his mouth falls open to let everything out.

The look alone brings Shay closer to the edge and he has to pull out quickly, letting go of Haytham entirely to pump his own cock. He cums with a groan, hot white ropes landing onto Haytham’s ass. He’s been ridiculed before for coming inside of his Grandmaster. Even in a state like this, he doesn’t want to step over that.

Haytham shivers on the table, panting as he tries to collect his breath. Maybe he did rile Shay up a tad too far tonight, but by lord was it worth it. He may not be able to sit down properly for a few coming days, but no one will question it. He’ll say it was a bad horse ride. Over his dead grave would he admit to something like this.

-

please like, reblog and comment if you enjoyed this!

[etherealsdreaming]

The Fairs In Town 💜

Summary: All the assassins decide to go to the fair in town. Unexpectedly, their crush is there as well and decide to split off and have a fun time with their future love. 😉

Altair Ibn La'Ahad

💜 He doesn’t care for rides nor is afraid of any of them. In fact he was forced to join in on this little outing. It might be your goal to get him on a few resulting in lots of begging and wishing he’d enjoy himself for once. He only complies when a stranger comes along, flirting; resulting in Altair’s jealousy raising and pulling you along, “You want to go on rides? Fine we’re going.” He ends up enjoying it and unfortunately for you he takes you on the scary ones. Only until you get tired of the rides, you both would get some food and sit in a quiet place on the grass watching the sun set. That was his favorite part.

Ezio Auditore

💜 Ezio loves the carnival/fair, the perfect place for a romantic yet fun outing with his crush. The moment he heard you were there, he’d be the first to split off and find you. Much to Arno’s displeasure he’d drag him to the loop-o-plane in which you were in the cage beside his. And each time both your cages would meet he would say something funny, romantic. “Salve bella.” You found it funny and after the ride he’d catch up and ask to join in on your day of fun. Both of you would go on ride after ride, holding hands and spend the last of the day doing games with him and getting you surprise gifts. His favorite part was the rides especially the first one that made you smile.

Edward Kenway

💜 His favorite part was going on the rides with you. Especially the octopus or the pirate ship and just sitting there talking and joking with you. He likes both the extreme and chill rides but made sure you both got to go on what you wanted. He would also be competitive when it came to the carnival games. Wanting to win each time and seeing who would win the most games of the day.

Connor Kenway

💜 Not much of a ride person, he’d only do the less intimidating ones. But he’d go on them for you or play games, pet animals and enjoy being in your presence. He is a pretty good shot at darts though and even if you weren’t the best at games he’d let you pick any prize you wanted from the games he won. His favorite part was the games.

Arno Dorian

💜 He hoped to spend the day with her but only learned she already had other plans. Instead now he was dragged to the fair with a group of friends who quickly split up. The only person who stayed with him with Ezio who ended up dragging him to the loop-o-plane just to see his crush then leaving him in the dust, under a shaded tree, trying to overcome his nausea. What a terrible day. Or so he thought. Standing in front of him she offered some bottled water and a smile. Surprised to see her she apparently was left behind as well by her own friends. Eventually they ended up going and playing games. This at least is what he wanted to give her a romantic outing and what's better than the fair? Better than a sunset view on the faris wheel? The most romantic part is his favorite part.

Jacob Frye

💜 He loves the scary ones; a true risk taker. But then you’d end up being dragged around to all of them. He’ll eventually get the memo when you pull back and he sees you getting sick. Only then will he feel bad and suggest perhaps you both could use a break. He’ll be sweet enough to get you some water or whatever you may need to feel better as you sit and rest. The good thing is that it gave you both some time alone to talk and joke around. It turned out the end of the day was the best part of the day for you both.

Evie Frye

💜 When you met her at the fair you couldn’t believe how excited she seemed. You didn’t know why; sure it’s fun; but there’s a fair every year and she’s acting like she’s never seen one. She had the entire day planned such as the rides, games you’ll play and when. First, the easy rides to more extreme ones with small breaks in between and looking at animals or the small shops. You couldn’t help but think how cute her excitement was and how she planned it all by herself. It even surprised you when she stated she hoped to see you there. Her favorite part was walking around the shops with you.

[peridot-tears]

Mind sharing some Ezio, Ziio, Shay and Edward Hcs?

Sofia and Claudia got along like sisters (idk I think this might actually be canon).

Ezio encouraged Flavia to be spirited and curious, and sees himself in her and the way she takes care of Marcello. If Ezio had lived to see her to adulthood, he would have been protective but let her choose her own husband.

Ezio wanted to keep his Assassin activities a secret from his children. After he died, Claudia took them in and trained them herself the way their Uncle Mario did for them.

Ziio and Oiá:ner's interactions became stilted after the birth of Ratohnhaké:ton. There was no doubt that the love was there, but Oiá:ner could not quite look at her the same again, and she had to busy herself with finding someone else to groom as successor. They were finally warming up to each other again just a year or so before Ziio died.

Oiá:ner put full trust into Ratohnhaké:ton and his decision-making going forward because she didn't want to drive a wedge between herself and her grandson the way she did with Ziio. And it was the hardest thing she ever had to do.

Modern-day Ziio would have been a leader in the stand-offs against the Canadian government and localities like the Kanehsatà:ke Resistance, which her voice actor Tiio Horn was actually in. My headcanon Ziio has a lot of Tiio Horn's traits, mostly because Tiio Horn's sass that I see in her social media comes through a lot in her voice acting for Ziio.

Ratohnhaké:ton's a BEAST at lacrosse. Man moves like WATER.

Shay died peacefully in a manner similar to Ezio's -- in a garden, watching his family.

Shay most definitely was the black sheep amongst the Templars -- not just because a traitor gets no trust from any side, but because he's Irish and many other Templars were Englishmen who were racist against him. Adéwalé called him Haytham's hunting dog, but the Templars thought the same of him.

Because of this, Shay was that high-achieving Templar the others resented, because they hated the idea of being outdone by someone they felt was lesser. They kept their distance from each other, and his friends in the Order were kept in a tight circle -- Jack Weeks, Gist, and Haytham.

That's also why Cudgel was so fiercely proud of his grandfather later on too -- despite the racism, he was more Templar than any of them.

Also, Lil Cudge seems to me like that kind of guy who in modern day would insist that the Irish were slaves. He seems to me like someone who's very loyal, but but blindly so, and someone who doesn't question tradition.

Edward wanted to raise Haytham as English as possible, but he'd occasionally slip up and curse in Welsh at times. Haytham would grow up with only vague memories of the Welsh part of his heritage.

Edward was a rambunctious lil youngster who didn't need any dogs to herd the sheep. The wolves were scared of HIM lol.

Edward's relationship with Jenny haunts my dreams. What happened in the years between her and Haytham's birth. The people need to know.

I wrote a whole other word vomit post expressing my guess that he didn't want her to get involved in the Assassin world because he wanted to protect his last memory of Caroline. He believed in being honest with your child, so she knew everything about his activities. But given that Caroline had already been disowned because of him and even now that he was a new money gentleman, he was a social pariah because of his pirate past, he wanted Jenny to live a noblewoman's life -- marry a man of good social standing and be a good wife. And although she protested, he always thought he knew what was best for her.

If Jenny knew about her brother's child and ever met him, she honestly would've adored him. Such a polite, well-loved young man. She would've been relieved that he was raised right by his mother's side, away from the Kenway drama. Thank God all he had in common with her side of the family was blood, but if she could have chosen to be blood with any remaining relative of hers, it would have been him.

[cippicat]

Arno, Connor & Shay

Some of the main topics in AC Unity fandom are:

Did Arno knew that it was Shay who killed his father?

Why didn't Arno hunt Shay?

Did Arno and Ratonhnhaké:ton/Connor Kenway met each other?

I think that these are very stupid questions, and I will explain you why IMHO.

I think that Arno, at some point of his life, discoverd about Shay Cormac, and that he was the murder of his father Charles Dorian.

Arno was a Master Assassin, and probably a future mentor, and can have access to many resources.

But he never hunted him down. Why ? It's quite easy, and the math will give us answers.

At the end of AC Rogue, Shay is 45 years old, while Arno is only 8 years old.

At the beginning of AC Unity, in 1789, Arno is 21 years old (it's the eve of the French Revolution). At the end of AC Unity, in 1794 (during the Thermidorian Reaction) and during the events of the DLC Dead Kings, Arno is 26 years old.

If Shay Cormac was still alive he would be 63 years old, in 1794. I think that Shay was still alive because of his nephew Cudgel Cormac who he trained to be a Templar spy.

I don't think that Arno found out about Shay so soon...

But if he discovered his identity so soon: how could a man of 63 fight against a young man of 26 (who has a sword of Eden by the way) ?

Shay wasn't like Connor, or Altair or Ezio. He hadn't so much ISU blood inside him.

Arno probably found out about Shay years later the end of Dead Kings, probably during the Napoleonic era. He decided to not hunt him down because he thought that Shay was already dead (which is extremely possible).

Last question.

Did Arno and Connor met each other?

No.

Why?

It's easy. After the end of AC Unity and Dead Kings, Connor was 38 years old, and had a wife and three children. Knowing him, I don't think he would have embarked for France, leaving his family, and the brotherhood, alone in America.

I think that perhaps they exchanged letters because Connor's name was well known in Europe.

[alethiometry]

*kicks my feet and twirls my hair* kenways kenways kenways kenways kenways~~

[blackflash9]

Reflections of the Kenway Family

A fascinating aspect of the saga is how each Kenway encounters someone on their journey who mirrors another family member and their respective character arc.

Connor meets Thomas Hickey — a man whose vanity and hedonistic greedy nature are very reminiscent of Edward and are a dark look into what he could've been if he had given entirely into his selfish desires. The way that Hickey's cynical nature contrasts with Connor's idealism is also a very similar dynamic to Edward's interactions with other characters such as Adewale, Mary Reed, Anto, and Ah Tabai.

Edward meets Duncan Walpole - a disillusioned Assassin-turned-Templar, foreshadowing the fate that will later befall his son. Edward's act of killing Duncan and posing as an Assassin mirrors what Haytham will become in the future. Another notable parallel between them is the theme of betrayal.

Reginald Birch's betrayal of Edward transforms Haytham into a Templar, while Walpole's betrayal inadvertently turns Edward into an Assassin. Unlike Duncan, whose commitment to the Creed is nonexistent, self-serving, and morally compromised, Haytham's ideological convictions in the Templar Order are resolute, unwavering, and uncompromising.

Haytham encounters Shay - an idealist with unwavering convictions, dedicated to protecting the innocent at any cost. Shay serves as a dark reflection of what Connor might have become without introspection, failing to forge his own identity. This lack of self-discovery makes Shay's virtues easily manipulated by others. In contrast, Connor continuously grapples with the demands of the Assassin's Creed and the diverse intentions and motivations of the people he meets on his journey, questioning and seeking to understand the world around him. ______________________________________________________________ ['On Johnson's Trail' Transcript] Connor: I was hoping you could help me locate William Johnson. Samuel: Of course. I'm headed to a meeting with some men who should be able to help. Why don't you come along? It's good to see the people finally taking a stand against injustice... Connor: Says the man who owns a slave. Samuel: Who, Surry? I practice what I preach, my friend. She's not a slave, but a freed woman... At least on paper. Men's minds are not so easily turned. It is a tragedy that for all our progress, still we cling to such barbarism. Connor: Then speak out against it. Samuel: We must focus first on defending our rights. When this is done, we'll have the luxury of addressing these other matters. Connor: You speak as though your condition is equal to that of the slaves. It is not. Samuel: Tell that to my neighbor—who was compelled to quarter British troops. Or to my friend whose store was closed because he displeased the Crown. The people here are no freer than Surry. Connor: You offer excuses instead of solutions. All people should be equal and not in turns. ______________________________________________________________ ['The Midnight Ride' Transcript] Connor: I thought it might bring clarity. Or instill a sense of accomplishment. But all I feel is regret.

Achilles: Hold fast to that. Such sacrifices must never come lightly.

Connor: I had to do it. Not only for my people, but for all the others Johnson would have harmed. ______________________________________________________________ ['Alternate Methods' Transcript]

Connor: I have been reunited with my father, but do not yet know if this bodes well or ill. Our goals are aligned, at least so far as independence is concerned. But he continues to defend Charles Lee— the man who murdered my mother and burned my village... Still, he makes a point about Washington and those who back him. I hear much talk of freedom and equality, but it seems one must be a landed white man to benefit. What of someone like me? Or Surry? What role for us in this new world? Is my father right, then? There is so much I must consider and so little time in which to do it. ______________________________________________________________ In contrast to Connor, Shay falls victim to their own self-induced tunnel vision, becoming ensnared in fanaticism and operating under a pragmatic "ends justify the means" mentality that he turned against his own Brotherhood for harboring. This vulnerability renders him a perfect tool and pawn for the Templars, diverging sharply from Connor's path of self-awareness, principles, and independence.

[hidden-nowhere]

buckle up kiddos i've finished that part of ac4 (again) and i have some thoughts to share

about how Mary affects Edward even after her death

so. i suck at introductions, but let start in the... end. more specifically, the hallucination scene

what interesting to me is that its Caroline who plays the role of guilt. at that moment Edward doesn't know yet that she's also dead, but it's her who his mind puts in the place of accuser. she represents not only herself but all people that Edward let down.

she doesn't try to make him change his life. only accuses him in making mistakes in the past. (please, keep in mind that it's not real Caroline, but Edward's mind playing tricks on him).

and in the end... she dissapears. like everyone else in Edward's life.

and that's where Mary steps in. she accuses him too, BUT there's bif fat BUT she also STILL tries make him "change his course". Mary is that part of Edward's mind that still believes that there's a chance for him to change. (also, the cliffs becomes visible only then "Caroline" disappears and "Mary" appears. only then Edward starts to see that he leads his ship to his death.)

i'll get to scene in prison later, but in that scene while dying Mary also tries to the same, but somehow it feels more... gentle, while in hallucination Edward's mind doesn't offer him it.

also "Mary" in Edward's mind doesn't really talk about people Edward let down. only about him. the only time she broughts up something about it it's still about Edward and him not wanting to save himself

now let's step back and get back to Jamaican prison.

after Mary asks him to "do his part", Edward pleads her to stay with him. yes, it's an act of despair. but it also shows that Edward believes that it's Mary who can make him save himself from his own destruction (and i think that's why exactly after her death Edward finally breaks. Not after Thatch's death who was something like a mentor figure. Not after Ben's betrayal. But after Mary's death.)

to what Mary replays

now let's get back to the hallucination.

"Mary" still believes that Edward can "build himself up" to what Edward, contradictory to his plead in prison, says "JUST LEAVE ME BE"

but she stays. she keeps her promise to be with Kenway.

and she will stay with him. as a guilt, yes, but that guilt will not make him drown. will not make him blind to cliffs that will kill him. this guilt will make him want do better.

Mary Read will make him want to do better.

[teecupangel]

What if Edward didn't die in his manor. What if he died at the same time as canon but for some reason he was at sea at that particular moment (he'd stopped for his kids but maybe there was something unavoidable). But ever since he died, people sailing the Atlantic have reported multiple sightings a ghost on their ship or of a ghost ship tailing them. Imagine haytham seeing the ghost of his father from the corner of his eye on his voyage to America. Imagine Ratohnhaketon seeing a ghost ship while sailing and following that ship helped keep them safe from a storm. (Imagine the ghost of Edward fucking Kenway trying to hijack the Altair II)

For some reason, my first thought is that this would be a Flying Dutchman scenario XD

But it would be funny if Edward is a ghost that just pops into existence if someone of his blood boards a ship.

He doesn’t know who it is though, to him, it’s a case of him popping into one ship then transferring to the ‘next’ once his blood reaches land (if they go overboard though, Edward gets thrown into the sea so it’s really more of an ‘if they’re in the sea’ kind of deal).

So with Haytham’s voyage to America, he doesn’t even see Edward because he’s stuck in his cabin most of the time while Edward is looking around, trying to find out why he’s haunting this ship. They finally ‘see’ each other just as Haytham leaves the ship.

Then Ratonhnhaké:ton started to sail Aquila and he assumed at first that he was part of the crew. It’s only when he starts to talk to Edward that Edward felt this pull…

Towards the Jackdaw that had been rotting under the uncaring depths of the sea.

That’s when the stories of a ghost ship starts popping up.

Ratonhnhaké:ton thought Edward’s disappearance meant he ‘moved on’.

It sorta did.

He moved on from his regrets of not being able to save his family because he knows that Ratonhnhaké:ton will be alright.

And now he sails the high seas with his ghostly crew…

Attacking those that appears red in his eyes.

(It would be funny if this ends with him kidnapping a comatose Desmond and Desmond wakes up in his ghost ship going ‘what the fuck???’)

[kinkandkreep]

Hi u🖖 i have a request about Connor ( ratonhnhaké:ton ) can you make a spicy content about him ? ( if youre not ok with it deleted my ask ) good day or night to you.

A/N: Hey hey! Thanks for sending this in hun. 😁 I decided to do a drabble to further work my hand in that, and I also tried something a little different with this one, so I hope you enjoy! And please feel free to send in any more requests y’all! My ask box is still open!

Connor Kenway Spice

Having been married to Ratonhnhaké:ton for quite some time, you’ve come to learn a few things about him. 

For as big as he is, he’s a surprisingly silent sleeper, although he snores quietly when he’s had an especially tiring day. 

He’s got a secret sweet tooth (olykoeks are a particular favorite dessert of his).

He’s very ticklish, but only in the most odd places, like his elbows and forehead.

But perhaps most astoundingly, you’ve learned that he’s got quite the sexual appetite. 

You’re not sure what exactly you thought his libido would be like before the two of you got married, but it’s safe to say that you were rather surprised to find out that he’s essentially always ready to go. 

You assume it has something to do with the near constant flow of adrenaline he’s most likely to have given how on-the-go he always is, but you’ve never asked him to be sure. 

On a particularly good day, the two of you can take it to the bed upwards of 4 times, not including quickies for when Connor’s especially worked up and short on time. 

You’re own drive can’t always keep up, but Connor is always very respectful of that and never pressures you. In instances like that, he takes care of himself. 

Sometimes, you like to watch. 

It’s not always a mutual thing exactly, though you both do get mutual satisfaction out of it. 

Connor’s a big man, about 8 inches lengthwise and about an inch and a half thick. His own hands, which are large in their own right, just barely cover the circumference of him, nevermind yours. 

It’s incredibly satisfying to watch him come undone, his caramel skin glistening in the light of the fireplace. A light sheen of sweat covers him, causing him to radiate with an even greater glow.

He’s not loud- expressive yes, but never loud- but you can clearly see how his eyebrows scrunch as the pleasure rocks through him. 

The slick sound generated by his hand pumping his length in a steady rhythm fills the otherwise silent room. 

Connor’s head is thrown back in pleasure, strong neck and prominent Adam’s apple on display for your hungry eyes. A strange sense of possession creeps up inside you as you continue to observe your husband.

 ‘Mine,’ you think, rather deliriously. 

Or, perhaps you’d actually spoken out loud, because Ratonhnhaké:ton’s head snaps up, his normally warm carob colored eyes smoldering with a desperate sort of heat, his pupils dilated wide. 

He levels you with an expectant, slightly confused look, his hand never ceasing its back and forth, up and down motion. 

“Did you say som-”

“I said, you’re mine.”

Connor is momentarily taken aback, movements stuttering in their rhythm. 

“You-..I’m…yours?”

“Yes,” you rise from your seat, stalking the few steps towards the man before you. Upon reaching him, you kneel down, your face merely inches away from his manhood. 

Connor’s hand has long since stopped moving, his eyes following you on your path, pupils still blown out. 

Reaching up, you gently coax his hand away, replacing it with your own, and beginning slow, teasing strokes up and down his length. 

“You are mine, Ratonhnhaké:ton. Just as I am yours.”

Now leaning forward, you place a gentle, reverent kiss on his tip, chuckling at his subsequent sharp intake of air at the action. 

You can tell from the way his cock twitches and the muscles in his thighs visibly tighten- something about what you’d said struck a chord in your husband. 

You are very familiar by now with how best to go about pleasing the man: the right amount of pressure to use in your grip, just how he likes for you to slightly flick your wrist once you reach the head, the soft, barely there trace of your nails along his length. 

You could spend hours just pleasuring your love and watching his reactions.  

“Y-yours…”

Without ceasing the movement of your hand, you hum curiously, having been so absorbed in studying Ratonhnhaké:ton’s expression that you’d barely registered him speaking. 

“I am yours, Y/N. And you are mine.”

Ratonhnhaké:ton speaks again, louder and with more conviction, albeit a little breathless.

A moment passes, the two of you maintaining intense eye contact before you smile up at him.

Raising up, you cup your hand around your husband’s cheek, eyes still locked with his as your breaths mingle. 

In a moment, your lips slot perfectly into place against one another’s, pleased sounds emitting from both of you.

You swallow the precious sounds Connor makes as you begin pumping him faster. His hips and thighs begin to tense as he draws nearer to his orgasm. 

It takes but a few more strokes, and the pressure of a cleverly placed tip of your thumbnail against his head that sends Ratonhnhaké:ton over the edge. Several thick strings of creamy cum rope around your hand, Connor’s hips still jerking in the aftershocks. 

“Good boy,” you purr, bringing your hand up to sample his essence. It’s noticeably sweet, courtesy of how much fresh fruit Connor eats and the pies you always make him sample. It’s also only slightly salty, but otherwise tasteless. 

The man himself watches you with dark eyes, chest rising and falling a little more rapidly than usual. 

You’re preparing to speak, when a small yelp takes the place of the words you’d meant to say as Connor quickly flips your positions. Now it is you who sits in the chair and he who kneels before you. 

You’re a little confused, until Connor begins trailing his fingers up the exposed skin of your legs, pushing up your skirt as he goes. His eyes bore into yours, pupils still wide, although not as much as before, and that signature sexy smirk of his slightly curling his mouth. 

“You’ve been so good to me. Now, I am going to return the favor.”

[elfven-blog]

Complacent (1)

Summary: You meet the new attraction at your aquarium job. Orca!Merman!Connor Kenway x Reader A mini series. CW: Connor in too small a tank/being held against his will. Dedication: Credit to the lovely @ramshackledtrickster who gave me permission to make a fanfic based on their art (You should absolutely check them out, they're amazing) Word count: 2.3K

You had been working at the aquarium for a little while now. You didn’t necessarily enjoy the job, it was just a job. And yes maybe you felt a little guilty when you saw some of the animals in their enclosures, but especially the poor merman. When the merfolk were discovered it was like some mad dash to get the last toilet rolls at the supermarket. You knew nearly everyone in the aquarium was disgusted with the Director who said he had brought one, the building didn’t have room for such a creature. The biggest marine life you housed were black tip reef sharks and jellyfish.

And unfortunately, so many of them were captured. But you had also heard many of them escaped. So here you were cutting up the bits of fish for some of the animals, your nose scrunching in disgust at the smell and you swore the gloves weren’t working to stop the blood from coating your hands as you practically threw it in the bucket. 

Normally you weren’t the one duty for the ‘bigger’ animals, you tended to the fish in the tunnel and the rock pools. But one of the aquarists had to go home because they’d cut themselves on some rocks, and no one really knew how the merman would react to blood. You carefully picked up the bucket and made your way to the door that closed off the merman’s feeding area. Nerves pricked at your skin, even though you’d been told plenty by everyone else that all he’d do was watch you place the bucket and he wouldn’t eat until you leave.

Your hands shook as you pressed your id to the door and pushed it open. The bright lights of the inside area cause you to flinch and squint your eyes. As your eyes adjusted you looked around while stepping into the inside enclosure, taking a deep breath to settle your nerves and almost immediately regretting it as you smelt the fish in the bucket you were holding. And you swore you heard someone laugh as you gagged and held the bucket away from you before there was a splash and your attention was back on the big pool of water in front of you.

You took very careful steps towards the edge of the water, you hadn’t seen the creature yet. Only a few had. He hadn’t even been shown to the public, the Director wanted the public to settle down first. There were still plenty of protests and government talks happening about whether this was okay. You didn’t tell them that you’d been keeping an eye on it all, you didn’t want to lose your job. Not in this economy.

The water didn’t move, entirely serene and you thought for a moment you had imagined the splash. You were so focused you didn’t notice the head slipping out the water and the eyes watching you until a deep rumble filled the room and you nearly slipped into the water “You’re not the normal one they send” It sounds almost like an accusation.

Your eyes widen as you turn towards where the voice came from. They hadn’t told you he could talk. They hadn’t told you he could talk. Your mouth hung open as you tried to process what you’d just heard. And the creature…the man? Raised an eyebrow at your reaction, eyes glancing down at the bucket in your hand and you didn’t miss the look of disgust in his own eyes.

“Do you not like fish?” The words slipped out before you could stop them, and the merman narrowed his eyes at you before he turned from you so he could dive back into the water. Your eyes watching the black tail slide out the water before disappearing, the white patch underneath visible for all of a few seconds. The bucket in your hand felt almost useless now, he obviously did not like the fish…maybe because it was raw you thought. But you left it there for him, right at the edge of the pool just in case you were wrong.

And that night when your shift finished, you found yourself searching about orcas and their eating habits. From the pattern on his tail you thought he might be a ‘transient orca’ (you didn’t even know there were different kinds), and no. They didn’t eat fish.

Which meant the aquarium had been feeding this more man things his body probably wasn’t meant to have. And from what you saw, he was quite large. The pool was probably too small for him. The guilt of him being there felt like it was eating at you. It wasn’t like you had put him there, but by feeding him the wrong things, by not advocating for him, were you not just as bad? The thoughts didn’t leave your mind as you continued your research.

That was your first encounter with the Orca. You didn’t have much interaction with him beyond that, after all he had his own keepers. And you had your own animals? No, that word didn’t quite fit him. 

But sometimes you found yourself outside his tank when you’d get in for an early shift, or after the aquarium was closed to the public and you were on night duty. You couldn’t help yourself. You’d just stand there and watch the water. The water that was too bright you’d discovered on one of your researching nights, too bright and too warm. Apparently Orca’s preferred slightly colder water.

Tonight was one of those nights. The aquarium wasn’t too scary once everyone but the keepers and janitors were around. The lights above his tank were dimmed, trying to give some illusion of darkness but it didn’t really work. Your eyes could only make out so far, the water murky in the dark.

The sound of something smacking against the glass caused you to jump, and then you saw the black and white tail moving against the glass leading you to look up. And there he was. Grinning down at you, clearly pleased at himself for scaring you like that.

Your brow quirked up as you shook your head at him. Something you had discovered was that he really enjoyed scaring people when he could. You’d heard a story a few days ago about him grabbing the ankle of one of the keepers, completely freaking him out so that he had to go home.

“You come here a lot, but you’re not one of them” The rumble of his voice pulled you out of your thoughts, and you shrugged at his words. You did come here a lot. Maybe it was a fascination for something new, or maybe it was that tug of your heart with how pitiful? No. Guilty. You felt no end of guilt at how he was trapped in a too small tank when he should be elsewhere. 

He seemed more calm that day, you realised as you settled yourself on the edge of the tank. Your shoes next to you and your uniform pants rolled up so you could deep your feet into the water. “No I’m not, I work in the rock pools”. Your leg jerked slightly at the feeling of his hands wrapping around your ankles, the glare he gave you as he bobbed out the water made you give him a small smile and apologise. 

He lifted your leg causing you to balance yourself backwards against the platform beneath you, his hands slightly squeezing your leg as he touched the skin. His brow furrowed for a moment before he shrugged and dropped your leg back into the water with a small splash, no longer interested in your limbs at the discovery that it felt like his human parts. “The rock pools?” he asked, confusion showing on his face “Like those tiny bits of water that crabs live in?”

The way he spoke about your job had you pursing your lips while nodding, you hadn't expected to be judged by the marine creature. Instead of listening to someone being harsh on your job, you changed the subject “Do you have a name?” You asked quickly, the Orca raising his brow at your sudden change of subject but he didn’t call you out on it.

He moved to pull himself out of the pool, something you had seen him do a few times and each time it reminded you of how much larger he actually was. And you wondered if he’d let you measure him.Even with part of him out of the water, his large tail still swishes under the water sometimes brushing up against your leg. The skin on his tail felt slightly weird, a little rubbery if you were honest.

Once he had finished pulling himself onto the platform, he turned over onto his back and lay down, his nose scrunching as his eyes closed. His way of basking in this artificial light he had told you once, it was nothing like actual basking but it was all he had. You had almost forgotten about the question you asked until the deep rumble of his voice answered “Ratonhnhaké:ton” the name was a mix of human languages and clicks, one of his eyes opening to look at you as you looked at him, brow furrowed “You can call me Connor if it’s easier”.

Maybe that was the day you decided to do something about him. The day he told you both the name his mother had given him, and the one a mentor had. 

You had signed petitions, gone to protests and donated money to try and help ban the use of merfolk in aquariums but none of it seemed to do anything, and the Director was starting to get ready to advertise his new ‘attraction’. You had seen the posters. So now you were trying to think of some way that would let him escape, Connor had told you about the times he’d gotten out of fishing nets and gotten some of the villages’ calves out of trouble.

The sea churned in front of you as you stared out at it, biting at your nails as your eyes narrowed. Hundreds of ideas floating into your mind. Each one seemed crazier than the next. You were only pulled from your thoughts when a large hand wrapped around your wrist and tugged you backwards causing you to turn and grunt and in surprise.

The man grinning at you as he pulled you towards the water, half of his body pulled onto the platform but it slipped slowly back into the lukewarm pool as he pulled you with him. He had you in the water pretty quickly, your arms moving to wrap around his shoulders as one of his wrapped around your waist “Stop thinking” he whispered against your ear. Part of you swears you feel him purr against you.

You tried to untangle yourself from him but he swam away from the edge of the platform until you were in the middle of the pool, your eyes wide as you pressed yourself closer to him “There are other ways to distract me! That does not involve forcing me into the water” you snap at him, and Connor only gently pinches you in response.

“It’s not like you’ll drown” his arm tightens around you “I wouldn’t allow a cow to drown, I’m not that mean” His words have you scrunching your nose, an annoyed noise leaving you as your legs gently kick at the water. Although your annoyance halted in its tracks at the new word.

“Cow? Like a cow?” This time it was Connor who was confused, his head turning to the side. His brow twitching slightly as he looked at you. The hand on your waist dimpled the bit of fat on your hips as he looked at you like you were insane, his eyes only widening further as you repeated “Like ‘moooo’ cow?” 

His arm loosened around you as you made the noise of a cow, his face scrunching into a disgruntled look as his tail flicked in annoyance. “What is a ‘moo’ cow?” Even his tone shows his annoyance at your question, the playful grin gone from his face as he tries to learn what you mean. And it takes you a little while to explain about bovines to the orca, who in turn does tell you that Orca’s call themselves similar things.

But now he can’t escape your teasing of calling him ‘Bull’, which results in you getting splashed more often. Both of you ignore how when he has you swimming with him, he purrs when you call him that. His chest vibrates against you as his nose huffs at your hair. Connor has become more and more relaxed around you, his hands often pulling and situating you how he wants. Whether that is pulling you into the water to swim with him, or pulling you on top of him white he basks.

His favourite thing it appears is when you straddle him so that you can clean his tail and fins, his body practically shaking with how loud he purrs while your hands are picking off whatever is on his dorsal fin. “I’ve decided to commit a possible crime” One of Connor’s eyes open to look up at you with a lazy hum, his tail gently splashing the water keeps himself wet “And what crime would that be?” he asks, the way he speaks shows you the comfort he feels and how his entire body has relaxed under your gentle grooming. Lately he’s been less agitated at being stuck in the tank, more relaxed. Less resistant. It worries you, makes you concerned that he’s getting complacent.

“I’m going to aid in an Aquarium break” That has his attention, both of his eyes opening and he pushes himself to sit up until you slide down to where his tail and abdomen meet. The large merman grins down at you with nearly all his teeth showing, that feral excitement gleaming in his eye. Maybe you didn’t need to be so worried about him being complacent.