asscreedkinkmeme ([personal profile] asscreedkinkmeme) wrote2012-01-04 10:19 am
Entry tags:

Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed [Fills]

We're about to reach the posting limit on pt.1&2, this is for those who wish to continue/write on prompts on both these parts.

Writers! It is your responsibility to link back to the original prompt.

There are no request in this part of the meme.

List of Kinks
(Livejorunal) Archive
#2 (Livejournal) Archive
( Archive
(Dreamwidth) Archive <- Currently active
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5

Second Fill! [15.a/16-ish] - NSFWish

[identity profile] 2011-06-02 02:55 pm (UTC)(link)
When he awoke Shaun was exhausted, his back ached from being pressed uncomfortably against the van floor, there was a tell-tale tightness of the skin that suggested he had scratched the skin open on stray sharp rocks and they had bled in the night, he felt grimy, and a sudden movement at his side left a burst of cold air over his exposed collarbone and chest. An alarm screeched on the other side of the room. Desmond jogged towards it. Shaun grasped the edge of his sleeping back cover (open, and that seemed a bit strange until his mind finally woke up a little and reminded him of the sleeping arrangements he and Desmond had made in the wee hours of the morning) and pulled it over his head. It smelt of Desmond and Shaun and garlic and the dust from the floor and he inhaled deeply, rubbing the side of his face into his pillow. The alarm cut off suddenly. Rebecca commented on Desmond's liveliness. Desmond laughed. Rebecca commented on his scuffed knees. Desmond lied about stumbling into the fountain and flumped down on the bedroll Shaun lay next to. He fought the urge to reach out a hand from beneath his thin sleeping bag and touch him. Suddenly the day seemed like it might be more of a torturous experience than the last, a fleeting memory of Desmond's hot and heavy breath on his neck and his tongue in his mouth. He was supposed to be going through an 'I can't keep my hands off of you' stage, but who could do that when such a development in their relationship was kept under wraps from their close-quarters team mates? Who could do that when, to said team mates, such a development would seem unfounded, sudden, out of character and out of the blue?

A heavy hand landed on the round of his shoulder and rocked him back and forth a little. On Sunday, should Desmond take the day off, he would sleep in without interruption.

“Shaun, you awake?” Desmond said, and through the rustling of his own sleeping bag he could hear Lucy and Rebecca clambering up and someone passing the two of them on their way towards the ancient passages behind Altaïr. He gave a muffled and incoherent mumble in reply, sighing heavily.

“I'm going to wash up.” Lucy's voice echoed and Shaun pulled his bedding down to blearily watch her leave with a small wave, gaining one with more enthusiasm in return from Desmond.

“Okay, see you in a bit.” Desmond's hand squeezed Shaun's shoulder as Lucy finally rounded a corner and ascended out of sight. Then he swiftly stretched out on the bed beside Shaun and brought his hand to rest of his jawline. “Good morning.”

“Is it really?” Shaun grumbled in return, Desmond's eyes rolling exasperatedly as he leant in and stilled any other dry comments with his lips.

“Yes, it is.” He mumbled against Shaun, pressing in again. Shaun gave into temptation and reached out a hand to curl around Desmond's hip, hold tightening briefly before resting on the fabric of his boxers. “How on earth am I going to keep my hands off of you?” Desmond sighed. Shaun scrunched up his face inappreciatively.

“One; morning breath. Two; you're going to bloody have to. Rebecca and Lucy cannot find out.” Shaun, despite his argument, then kissed Desmond again, bring his hand up to linger on the man's neck.


“Because if we were to-” Shaun tensed as Rebecca called out from the passage something about needing to go out and buy more toilet paper as they were nearly out and flew up into a sitting position, mouth far away from Desmond's and hopefully looking innocent. “I'll tell you later. I need to bathe tonight anyway.” He mumbled as Desmond sighed deeply.

Second Fill! [15.b/16-ish] - NSFWish

[identity profile] 2011-06-02 02:56 pm (UTC)(link)
They ate a small but satisfying breakfast, Shaun taking a couple of painkillers Lucy and Rebecca coveted for the aches in his back and Desmond throwing him a somewhat apologetic and somewhat smug look, and then promptly got to work. He answered e-mails with an astute sense of boredom. Watched as Ezio navigated the Vatican. Watched through all of Sixteen's puzzles that they had unlocked, which was a fair few with only one last garbled tape to uncover. Watched Lucy somewhat subtly read a copy of 'The Woman In White' behind her desk. And in the gaps between he would all too often find himself looking over his shoulder at the man in the red chair behind him and reminiscing on the strong grip in his hair and the kisses on his neck and jaw. All too often would he go from reminiscing to fantasising about spreading him over their bedrolls and grinding against him until they both found release. Or fucking. On the Animus, over his work desk, on the villa roof. On a bed in the middle of nowhere where Templars and Assassins and Aliens bearing prophecies of doom didn't exist.

He excused himself to the quite unpleasant underground passages-cum-makeshift toilet about five times more than was entirely necessary just to have Desmond out of sight and to clear his mind.

Desmond emerged once for a snack and toilet break in between assassination missions and again in their evening. He pushed himself off the Animus chair and leaned on Shaun's desk each time, watching him stutter in his typing and smiling at the reaction. His hand ghosted over his forearm.

Their dinner was eggs boiled on a portable gas stove with toast. Extra helpings for the an who had missed out on lunch. Shaun's yolk was annoyingly hard boiled, leaving his toast dry but for a measly scraping of margarine and he itched to abandon it and run outside with Desmond to taste him. When he was eventually able to leave he threw a pointed look to Desmond, who returned it evenly, eyes lighting up. Rebecca eyed them suspiciously as they left together with towels thrown over their shoulders and, in Desmond's case due to his good mood, wrapped around his waist.

They breached the stifling restraint of work-relation limits when they left the study, Shaun's feet ceasing movement as soon as they slipped past the door frame whilst Desmond walked on towards the fountain, a light pink towel clinging to his jeans with the movement of his legs. He reached out and caught the scrunched up fabric at Desmond's elbow and pulled him back. He was smiling when hands pressed him back against the wall and lips followed. The chaste kiss they shared was hardly enough to quench the want that had built over the day, but a well muscled limb under his hands was enough to ground Shaun and untie the knots that had twisted in his stomach. He sighed deeply as they broke apart.

“Hello.” Desmond mumbled against his lips and then drew back enough to stare at him.

“Good evening.”

A hand rested on the side of Shaun's face, thumb stroking along his cheekbone. “I've been thinking about you all day.”

“I've been staring at you all day.” Desmond laughed at that. Shaun decided he liked the sound of Desmond's laugh. “No, really. Rebecca's going to think I'm plotting your demise or something soon.”

“Or maybe she'll catch on that we're, shall we say, enjoying each other's company a little more than expected?” Lips sealed over his once more.

Shaun hummed as he remembered the initial reason for bringing Desmond upstairs in the first place. “About that,” He managed around Desmond's lips, which moved back at sign of his speech. “They can't know.”

Desmond gave an unsatisfied grunt.

“Relationships in our area of profession don't tend to work out.” Shaun persisted. “Lucy wouldn't allow it.”

Second Fill! [15.c/16] - NSFWish

[identity profile] 2011-06-02 02:57 pm (UTC)(link)
“'Wouldn't allow it?' Shaun I thought you were cooler than that.” The hand on his hip gave a distracting squeeze as it dropped to his thigh.

“Oh, ha-ha. Desmond, listen now.” The hand, however, seemed to be working it's way to his inner thigh and up. Shaun grabbed it by the wrist.

“Okay, I'm listening.”

“It would create unnecessary tensions.”

We have an unnecessary tension.” Desmond whined. Shaun sighed and was about to make a comment on that when Desmond tensed and straightened quite suddenly. Shaun's ear pricked and his head turned to the study entrance for fear that they had been found or someone was approaching. But Desmond was looking the other way with a plain-faced look of acknowledgement and a small bit of fear and curiosity. Shaun couldn't see anything but the boarded up door to the entrance hall of the villa and a pile of dead leaved that had gathered in the corner. He watched as Desmond twisted slowly on the spot as if watching a phantom pass them by.

“Desmond?” Shaun asked, when the assassin before him had stood staring at a single point for more than four seconds.

“Ghosts.” Desmond answered shortly, and turned back to Shaun, putting a smile back on his face.

Shaun hummed and then sighed. The conversation was quickly heading into waters he would rather leave unexplored. Recently his nights had been left undisturbed, but he could remember all too clearly the shadows moving in the corners of his eyes, white and faint. Briefly a moment of clarity washed over him. Desmond was going to lose his mind. Well, that was unless they managed to find a miracle cure for the bleeding effect. However, a pessimist at heart, Shaun couldn't really see them managing that and saving Desmond. Didn't prophets usually die in saving the world?

How horrible it was to realise this right after getting attached.

“You know you have quite bushy eyebrows. I never noticed that before.” Desmond snapped him sharply from his musings, taking his face in hand to peer at his eyebrows. Well, Shaun supposed, at least he's lucid now despite coming across as rather strange.

“Shut up.”

“Kiss me?”

“Make me.”

He did.

It continued for four days with stray gropes between work, handjobs in the courtyard and kisses pressed to lips and jaws and necks at every opportunity present. Rebecca announced her theory that Shaun was plotting to steal Desmond's face at lunch on Saturday. Sunday morning they took off and yet in the afternoon they worked. They were close now. They had to be.

Ten minutes into the Animus session on Tuesday Ezio obtained the apple.

Second Fill! [16/16] - End

[identity profile] 2011-06-02 02:58 pm (UTC)(link)

Shaun knew that Desmond had been seeing things but he hadn't expected this to happen. His first thought when he saw his lover and team mate sprawled on the floor, blood pooling from the stab wound in Lucy's side, was that he hadn't even got to fuck him. And, as king, he really should have been entitled to.

Re: Second Fill! [16/16] - End

(Anonymous) 2011-06-02 07:53 pm (UTC)(link)
At first I was like:
And then I was like:

Anon is dead. This last part has slain her.

Writer!anon, this was wonderful in so many ways! Thank you for the lovely fill! Whenever I saw an update waiting in my inbox, I got a giddy rush of excitement and today was no different. I do hope you'll continue writing for the meme because I would love to read more of your work. <3

Re: Second Fill! [16/16] - End

[identity profile] 2011-06-02 08:17 pm (UTC)(link)
I know, I kind of wanted to give it a happy ending, but I wanted it to be realistic and they had spent so much time wooing each other (weeks and weeks) that they wouldn't have had the time to enjoy each other's company afterwards. Hopefully they'll be reunited in Revelations or AC:3 though.

I have all of my de-anon kink meme fills on this account and I'm continuing to write fills even now, though this was by far the largest I have undertaken. Rest assured you should see more of me :)

Fuck being anon...

[identity profile] 2011-06-02 11:07 pm (UTC)(link)
... I like my name on my criticism.

Throughout the whole fic there's been one thing that's bothered me: at the start of almost every chapter there is a gigantic block of exposition or Shaun!musings. It's not that the text in them is in any way less good than the rest of the fic, but the fact that it's a BLOCK, sometimes several hundred words long, bothers me. First of all, it's eyestraining, and second it's a "fuck, again?" moment because otherwise your paragraphing is excellent.

There, got that out of the way, commencing brainless fangirling now.


I could go on and on about how excellent this fic is. How much utter perfection it contains. How beautiful and realistic (in a fandom like AC where realism is decidedly hard to pull off) it is, how good your characterisation is, how well you carry a story arc. How utterly compelling your use of language is, how well your humour works, how good you're at creating memorable scenes.

I could MST this and sing praise to EVERY LINE WRITTEN GUH.

People like you. You're a godsend I swear. You're freaking angels. Thank you, sincerely, for existing and writing awesome stories like this.

Re: Fuck being anon...

[identity profile] 2011-06-03 11:08 am (UTC)(link)
Ah, thank you so much for bringing that to my attention! I have become increasingly aware that my paragraphing can falter, especially at the beginning of chapters, in the last couple of weeks or so. Partially because of classmates and teachers complaining about my essays. So I'm definitely working on that and I will try my best to keep your criticism in mind for my next project. Thank you so much. It's wonderful to get constructive criticism!

And it's also wonderful to have people compliment my writing. I'll be honest, towards the end I found myself upset with my characterisation, so it's a great and fantastic relief to hear from a reader that it is good! I'm grinning from ear to ear here, you've really cheered up my mood. I'm also glad that my humour works and that the story comes across realistic.

You have made me blush! I can hardly type!