Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed [Fills]

[asscreedkinkmeme]

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
(Delicious.com) Archive
(Dreamwidth) Archive <- Currently active
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Discussion

Comments

Re: Clipped (21d/21)

[(Anonymous)]

Desmond took the feather and held in gently between his fingers, careful of the dried blood on it. He turned it slowly in his fingers and could already feel the pressure building up between his eyes like a bubble settled inside his nasal cavity. Before it reached a bursting point he handed it back to Altair. “Good,” he said as Altair slid the feather back where it belonged. “Show me,” and Altair gave a slight nod before following Desmond back up the green and white marble stairs and up towards the warrior halls. As they left the elevator they came upon a great group of novices who immediately looked away as the doors slid open and parted like the sea in the old stories as Desmond left it and found the nearest stairs.

Up in the pale halls of the prophets one could see the whole of Masyaf and the desert beyond as quickly the storm that had been on the horizon was now much closer and if Desmond had cared to look down he would have seen the novices who’d been outside the elevators leaving the fortress to spread the news to those who weren't aware and ensure the city properly braced for the storm. But Desmond didn’t look, he didn’t need to, because he knew, he could feel them, like he could in some way feel everyone in the fortress, their life beating to the same pulse as the Animus.

Inside Desmond’s room there was no worry of the encroaching storm. The place was pristine with walls painted the color of copper and floor covered in comfortable rugs and pillows with great windows that allowed for an uninterrupted view of the desert. There was no bed in the idea that he'd had for those five years away from here, just a mat on the floor and a hammock which had been confusing to get used to. The most important feature in the room though was the Wellspring, the source of the Animus in Desmond's room and from which the Waters flowed. They were set under a clear glass floor that churned with icy fog which was why up here the climate controller blew hot air instead of cold. Over the glass were more pillows, mainly to separate those who sat upon it and did their work so they didn’t get cold.

Altair sat on the pillows over the Animus as he pulled his hood down revealing his face in full. He'd shaved his head recently, not a big surprise, and less than an inch had only grown back. Desmond could still remember when both Altair and Ezio's hair had been longer, especially Ezio's. But that had been the style there. Here warriors wore it short, almost bald, and usually more than not had it long enough to be a buzz. It made them look fierce, but also was practical as of kept their heads cool under the hoods and didn't allow for whoever they were fighting to grab hold of their hair and pull on it.

Before Desmond himself sat he plucked the golden Apple from it’s place near the Wellspring. It was a large thing with special geometric grooves cut into it’s surface and when he held it the metal seemed to breath in his hand, or maybe pulse like a heart, and like the Animus the Apple seemed to be alive. He rolled it between his fingers in a familiar way as he sat across from Altair. This was why trust was required between a prophet and his guardian, because their relationship was more intimate than any Desmond had ever seen. Prophets just didn't see the future, or remember the past, they recorded history and passed what they knew through their memories and their Apples. They weren't strong though and didn't leave the city of Masyaf often, instead they sent their most trusted allies, their personal guards, and through them they lived important moments, critical to history, including the deaths of people who warranted a feather. Nothing was secret and nothing was sacred between a prophet and his Sicarius, they needed to trust each other and Desmond trusted no one save for his brothers anymore and Altair knew that.