asscreedkinkmeme | Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt. 4

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assassin's creed

Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt. 4

Assassin's Creed Kink Meme pt.4

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Part 1
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Part 5
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Oh my god, that last line XD

Poor Volpe. He's probably just happy HE doesn't have them.
OP likes VERY much, thank you! I can't see Niccolo having the hiccups XD Hilarious mental images.

(Also, love the Niccolo/Volpe bit at the end <3)

He woke the next morning, halfway sprawled in the snow and in the sleeping bag. He didn’t feel much of the cold, always having been impervious to it, but the look on Rebecca’s face tipped him off that something wasn’t right with that. He blinked as she stared at him from across the fire pit, some sort of large skinned animal roasting.

“Aren’t you cold? Your arms are sitting in the snow.”

He blinked, looking at her before rubbing his eyes. “Huh?”

“You should be freezing.”

“I… I’ve always been at home in the snow.”

“You should have seen him when he went into the cave for Shiva,” Lucy said as she came over and sat on the foot of the sleeping bag.

He smiled at her, and she placed a hand on his leg, rubbing it briskly.

“What was it like?” Rebecca asked, turning the spit.

“I’m a native up here, and I was just about to freeze to death. He, however, wasn’t affected at all. I hate to think of how he’ll fair at the volcano.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine, Lucy,” he said, grinning. “Just… gimme the hat back to make sure that I don’t overheat.”

She shook her head, and Rebecca scowled. “There’s no way you’re wearing that in there. I’ve seen jackets like that, and you’ll take more damage if you get hit with a fire spell wearing that.”

Lucy frowned. “Look, we’ll decide what to do when we get there, but if he has to wear it, he has to wear it. He’s always done well in cold weather.”

Desmond stretched languidly.

“You’re remarkably well-built for being a summoner,” Rebecca murmured, and his arms shot to his sides as he sputtered.

Rebecca started laughing, and Desmond couldn’t help but scowl. That wasn’t the first time he had been given a compliment, only to have it laughed back when he couldn’t detect sarcasm. Lucy was frowning, too, and he dusted the snow off his undergarments and attached his staff to his back. When Rebecca calmed down, she shook her head.

“Have you never gotten a compliment like that? I mean, come on, you are! Not many men I’ve met would sputter like that.”

Desmond gave her a wary look.

“He wasn’t well-liked in the village,” Lucy said, in that dangerously quiet tone he had come to love.

That was the tone of voice she used before she unleashed all her power on his enemies, or when he had done something incredibly stupid. He, however, had come to associate it with safety, something he loved Lucy for. It wasn’t that he couldn’t protect himself, but sometimes, the summons took it too far when protecting him—she knew just when to stop. He pulled the knife out from his belt as when the food was ready, content to let her use the silverware, sitting next to her as they ate.

“Why not?” Rebecca finally asked.

“He was the only summoner born into a village of monks. We wear thick outfits to protect us from the cold, and in the deepest pits of winter use underground tunnels. He can get away with wearing light underclothes, and runs around naked in the middle of the arctic winters and be unscathed.”

“No way. But… why would they hate him for that? I mean, just ‘cause he’s different—you need a little variety. Otherwise, things get boring. And a summoner is a rare job to see today. It takes skill and talent with the fiends.”

He shook his head. “I’m hardly talented.”

“More so than with me,” she said with a snort. “Fiends see me coming and attack because they know I want their treasure. You know, I heard in the sands of Fis Sorr Anar, there’s two breeds of cactus that are some of the most powerful you’ll meet. I’m sure, if we could get close enough, they’d lend you their power.”

“What are they called?”

“One is called the Cactuar, and the other, Cactite. The Cactite are known more for their fruit and their flowers, which can be harvested with little work on either party’s part. There’s also Chocobos—”

“I’ve heard of Chocobos!” Desmond shouted. “They’re the big yellow birds!”

Rebecca grinned and leaned in. “On the plains of Vao, there’s black ones and red ones, and we’ll have to pass through those to get to the earth crystal. And in the caves where the water crystal resides, there lays a beast known as the Tonberry. No one who’s seen it has survived. This was before the sleeping fog took over. They say it has soulless black eyes, and if it kills you, your soul gets trapped inside of the lantern it carries, that drips blood and gives off the most shrill and horrifying screams of agony you’ve ever seen. It’s also rumored it carries a huge sword, so sharp it can cut anything!”

Desmond’s eyes grew wide. “W-what?”

“Oh, it’s true. You can’t even hear it approach, the only sign you get is the sound of the screams from the lantern as it attacks you, and that’s the last thing you’ll know of.”

He swallowed, shivering. “A-and it’s in the cave that we have to go through?”

She straightened, nodding. “There have been rumors you can bribe it, but, well, no one’s lived to tell the tale.”

He stared at her as things continued, and as they started off, Desmond began to think of what it must look like. The lantern must be made of the bones of the dead, and the souls probably bulged inside of it, if it even had glass to contain them. They were probably attaching the two halves together, and it must have been large and scaly, dripping with sliminess that probably came from the damp cave the water crystal came from. It must have had large, sharp teeth and claws that wrapped around the handle of the lantern.

He shivered, summoning Valefor with a yelp when a cobra came out of nowhere and attacked him from behind. It was a short-lived battle, for as soon as Valefor saw it, it picked it up and ate it, as well as the next one that joined in. He petted his favorite briefly for dismissing it and summoning Leonardo, whispering to him as they continued walking. Thankfully, he didn’t have to dismiss Sylph at all, for none of the enemies were too terribly threatening, and the longer they were on the road, the longer he had to think about the Tonberry. By the time night was falling, Rebecca was super stoked. There was no snow, the temperature had warmed remarkably, and he could see lights from over the hills they were walking toward.

“We’re almost there! Ethaea is just over this hill!”

He could see a wall, rising high over the trees and stretching on into the horizon. It was huge, made of black mud, and over the top of it, he could see the thinnest wisps of green trickling over the top. It was as if vines were creeping over the edge, and although they dissipated before they got to a level where someone could touch them, it was rather spooky.

He was going to be glad to sleeping in a normal bed, in a house, where there were no monsters and nothing to attack him. He chased after her until they were running through the entrance of the city. A large wall extended forever in either direction, and the city was pressed right up against it. The volcano was so close—it was as big as the mountains back home, and there was smoke curling out of the top. His breath hitched. It was huge, and there were people bustling about in the streets of the city even in the late hours of the night. He paused, stopping to take in all the activity. He felt Lucy appear beside him, and he jumped when she grabbed his hand.

“Ready? Our adventure is finally beginning.”

He grinned and pulled her into the city gates, hardly catching the ice cloak and small pouch that Rebecca threw at him before vanishing. Desmond slipped into the cloak and tucked the pouch away before he stepped closer to her. He held tightly onto Lucy’s hand as he walked up to some young lady and smiled warmly.

“Hi, I’m Desmond, and this is Lucy.”

The young lady stopped and looked at them. “Are you two a couple?”

“H-huh?” Desmond asked, and the young lady looked at Lucy and laughed.

Lucy stepped up, squeezing his hand slightly and stepping close. “I suppose so, although he’s been taking forever to ask me out.”

Desmond sputtered, causing both girls to laugh, and he could feel his cheeks light up. He crossed his arms and looked at the ground.

“I just wanted to say hi,” he grumbled.

“I’m sorry, honey. You two just looked so cute together—where are you from?”

“To the north,” Lucy said, rubbing his shoulder in the way she often did to help him relax. “We’re here for the volcano.”

The young lady gasped. “Are you here for the lava overflowing tomorrow? On the other side of it at the entrance of the cave?”

“Really? When?” Lucy asked as Desmond uncurled his arms and looked at her.

“Oh, around dusk, I would suppose.”

They looked at each other, and he frowned. “We’ll have to leave early then.”

“You’re not going into the volcano, are you?” she whispered, horrified.

Lucy waved at her for silence. “I would suppose. We’ll see you later?”

“Oh, do be careful, travelers!”

Desmond smiled. “We will!”

They waved goodbye, walking along hand-in-hand until they came across a shop with a staff on it.

“Desmond, don’t you use stuff like that?”

He nodded. “Can we..?”

She pulled him in. It was a dark little shop, small, too, and the hat at the counter was more than a little intimidating. It was large and yellow that shaded the face of the human inside, and his eyes glowed from over the enormous collar on the blue cloak. He approached the stand.

“A magic user?” the hat said. “Feel free to look around.”

He tilted his head, approaching the cases cautiously. Immediately, his curiosity was aroused when he saw a scroll with the word, “Cure” on it.

“What’s that?” he murmured.

The large hat glanced at it and murmured, “A white mage spell. I don’t think you can learn it. What kind of magic-user are you?”

“A summoner.”

The hat laughed. “Ah, I’m afraid I have only one spell for summoners—we haven’t had one visit us since the sleeping fog settled in. Do you have the chocobo summon?”

“What color is it?” Desmond murmured as he looked where the hat gestured.

There was silence for just a moment before he heard, “A typical yellow one, I suppose.”

He smiled warmly as his hands curled against the glass, and the hat tilted as if it were confused.

“I heard you can see colored ones on the plains. Red and black.”

“Ah, yes, but you cannot summon them.”

“I can if they let me.”

“That’s ridiculous. You cannot summon fiends. There is not a scroll for it.”

“Why would I need scrolls to learn how to summon them? That’s not how it works. They give themselves to me, and all I have to do is call them.”

“That is not how it works. You must have memorized the summoning dance.”

“Dance?”

“The staff summon.”

“I… I don’t need a staff to summon them.”

“Of course you do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do. Those are the laws of magic.”

“Do you want me to show you?”

“I find it hard to believe that a man as young as you would know more than a man who has devoted his life to studying it. Step outside, let me see.”

Desmond huffed, pulling off his staff and handing it to the hat. Then, he let the hat clear the people out before he threw his hand in the sky.

“Valefor!” he shouted, and seconds later, he heard the people gasp as his bird-god came whirling down from the heavens.

He smiled, petting it briskly. Some of the citizens clapped as he hugged it, and a little boy came running forward to ask to touch it. Valefor leaned over and let it stroke the feathers on its head. He laughed, and the hat stepped over.

“A fluke. Show me another.”

Desmond sighed.

“Why not show him that hare-thing from the forest?” Lucy suggested, pulling the boy away as Valefor was dismissed.

“A wyrdhare?” the hat asked. “The ones whose tails we use for magics?”

Desmond squatted and slapped his hands on the ground. “Wyrdhare!”

He lifted his hands up slowly, watching as the dust swirled and formed beneath his fingertips. Then, from the cloud of dust, the red bunny danced out, hopping around curiously in the street before returning to Desmond. He scooped it up and plopped it in the boy’s arms, who cooed and awed over it, attracting others.

“I told you,” Desmond huffed, snatching his staff back from the astonished hat.

The hat was by the boy petting the wyrdhare, which was chirping merrily in his arms at all the attentions.

“I didn’t know this was possible,” the yellow hat breathed.

With a flick of his hand, he dismissed the hare and attached his staff to his back again. “Come on, Lucy: let’s see what else there is here. See ya, Hat Guy.”

He took Lucy’s hand and pulled her off, marching through the streets and leaving the hat behind. They stumbled into an armory, which had nothing for him or Lucy, and wandered around holding hands until they found themselves in a weapons shop. Her eyes were glued to the cases at a pair of claw fashioned out of ice from magic. Desmond was peering over her shoulder.

“Wow… If I had thought to bring my allowance, instead of just being whisked off.”

He felt his heart sink. They had no money—and that might cause problems. Then, it struck him, and he remembered the pouch Rebecca had thrown at him. He frisked himself down, finding it absentmindedly placed in a pocket on the cloak. Desmond pulled out the small pouch Rebecca had tucked away, hoping to find come cash, and he smiled. “Lucy, we do have some money.”

Sorry.

“How?” she asked, looking into the pouch.

“I don’t know. Rebecca threw it at me before she ran off.”

She dumped out the money on the counter, and the weapons master watched her count it.

“We can get them!”

Desmond slapped the owner’s hands away before he could snatch the money. “Lucy, we need to save some for a room at an inn. Rebecca ran off, and we don’t know if she’s even coming back. We’re lucky she gave us this money. We have to make it stretch.”

Lucy looked at him, blinked, then deflated. “You’re right, Desmond. We do. I can go without the claws.”

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no, I mean, let’s get you the set of plain claws. Shiva can turn them into ice claws as he did my knife.”

He counted out the amount of money they would need for the wooden claws, and slid it across to the weapons’ master. The man nodded, reaching in and pulling out the claws, adjusting them to her hands and sizing them accordingly. She was ecstatic with the purchase, and they still had some money left over to see if there was an inn they could afford.

By the time they found the cheapest, they had traipsed all over the city. They had seen the rich end and the poor end—they had seen the castle in all its majesty. They had both enjoyed it, but they were exhausted from the fast-paced travel. They were at the dingy end on the poorer side of the city, and it didn’t bother them—it was fascinating—but the manager was being unrelenting on the fact they were twenty gil short.

“Please?” Lucy begged. “We can work for you to make up the difference. All we need is a corner to sleep in.”

“Or,” Desmond muttered under his breath, “I could just shock him into letting us with Talal.”

“Desmond,” Lucy said disapprovingly.

“Sorry,” he groused, “I think we should just have Kadar make us an igloo again.”

“That would just be ridiculous,” Lucy murmured. “Then we’d have to worry about monsters.”

“I could summon Valefor.”

“A summoner, you say?” an old man interjected. “Interesting folk to have at this town. Haven’t seen any since the sleeping fog rolled in over everything beyond that wall.”

“The one in front of the city?” Desmond asked. “We’re going over there.”

“Brave young kids.”

“You’re crazy, kids.”

“We’re not crazy,” he snipped. “We’re gathering the spirits of the crystals!”

“Sure thing,” the man drawled, rolling his eyes. “Stupid kids.”

Desmond snapped, pounding his hands on the counter and snarling at the man. He was tired; he strained his magic reserves to the limits and was pooped, and he was hungry, and he’d be damned if this stupid innkeeper was going to keep him from sleeping.

“I swear,” he growled, “you either give us a place to sleep, or I will summon the devil himself and level this piece of shit.”

The man backed off a pace, a look of caution in his eyes. Desmond swept the money back into the pouch and growled again.

“Well?”

The man seemed to decide on something and gestured them farther in. It was nothing more than a cot in the corner of the kitchen, but the cooks were nice enough to give them a bowl of soup and their aprons for blankets. Desmond offered the rest of their money to them, forcing them to take the thirty coins. They accepted reluctantly, splitting the pocket change between the three of them and turning out the lights, and Desmond pulled Lucy close on the tiny cot, falling asleep quickly.

He was waken by the sound of trumpets and the feel of someone pushing his shoulder. He grunted, first, and then snapped, sinking his teeth into the hand that was trying to wake him. He heard a cry of pain and bit down harder when the hand tried to pull away. Lucy was stirring in his arms, and he snarled, looking to see a frightened looking young man in an extravagant outfit.

“What? I was sleeping,” he snarled.

“I-I have come to inform you that the king wishes to see you.”

“Stupid fuc-king,” Desmond murmured. “I’m tired. Leave me alone.”

“Des?” he heard Lucy mumble.

She was always a heavier sleeper. He kissed her ear and murmured for her to go back to sleep. She hummed, not even opening her eyes as she nestled against his chest, her blonde hair sticking out all over the place. He curled his lip when he saw the other person still standing there.

“We’ll give you a better bed. And a large meal when you wake up.”

Desmond growled. “Promise?”

“On the honor of my kingdom, sir.”

He slowly sat up, brushing off the messenger’s hand to help him up as he gathered Lucy in his arms and rose. She stirred, and he shushed her, stumbling along out to a carriage. He blinked wearily.

“Really?” he deadpanned. “Really? I can carry her to the castle and not wake her. She’s going to wake up if I set foot in that thing. I’m going back to be—”

“Good sir, please,” the messenger boy pleaded. “This is my job. I get a promotion if you come with. The thief that informed us said you wouldn’t come with because it was so late.”

Desmond snorted, but climbed awkwardly into the open carriage with Lucy, if just to spite that damn woman for leaving them alone. He watched the castle approach, followed he boy inside to wear he gestured to set Lucy down to sleep. After he set her down, despite the protests of the ladies waiting for her, he climbed in beside her and cuddled close. She sighed, nuzzling against him. He pulled the covers over them. He felt slightly as if he were seven again, climbing out his window after getting yelled at by this father for stealing a survival packet and going over to Lucy’s to spend the night. His father never found it, though.

He woke the next morning to the feel of silken sheets and Lucy stirring in his arms. He could feel her stretching, and his arms tightened around her. She hummed, opening her eyes, then shooting up, and he opened an eye, irritated. He watched as she looked at him, and he couldn’t help but feel slightly aroused at her disoriented, disheveled appearance.

“Where are we?”

“At the castle. King wanted to see us,” he grunted.

She stared at him for a little bit longer before she turned her side and ran a hand through his hair. His eyes fluttered closed, and he hummed.

“Well,” she started, “I suppose that’s okay.”

His hand found its way under her shirt and around her waist, pulling her close again as he pressed his face against her neck, breathing in deep.

“D-Desmond! This is no time to get cuddly!”

He grunted. “I don’t care. They woke me up last night. They can wait.”

“Desmond,” she said, and for once, he wasn’t inclined to listen to the disapproving tone of her voice.

“Desmond,” she said, softer this time, and he found himself meeting her gaze. “Come on, we need to meet the king, if he requested us.”

He frowned, letting her go and burying his face in the pillow. This bed was soft.

“Oh, are you awake?”

They both looked to see a young maid standing there, holding a tray. She smiled brightly and set it down on the bedside table. Desmond was staring at it, amazed by the foods he didn’t recognize. The young maid bowed and left.

“I’ll inform the king.”

Seconds later he was sitting up, pulling the tray onto the bed and smiling at Lucy.

“It looks good.”

“And to think you were intent on sleeping.”

He laughed. “But, you didn’t want to cuddle, so I had to move onto the next best thing.”

Lucy cuffed his ear, and he laughed at the blush she had. He didn’t wait for her to start eating, just tucked in and choked on a laugh as she yelped, grabbing the other fork and battling for food. He was excited—whatever this adventure might bring, he would have his best friend beside him the entire time. He wouldn’t have to deal with his father snipping at him, and he’d get to do what he did best: summon. By the time they were done eating, the maid had returned with a bow.

“The king will see you now.”

Lucy smiled. “Thank you.”

“I suppose we ought to go and see him.”

“In the clothes we’re in now?”

Lucy pursed her lips as Desmond set the tray aside. She shrugged. “I’m not changing out of them. Are you? I thought you really liked that cloak.”

“I suppose. Where did the hat go?”

They blinked at each other before pulling apart the bed, finding the hat smooshed between the blankets. He pulled it on and walked out. The maid was standing by the door, and Desmond smiled at her.

“Okay. We’ll see him.”

The maid nodded, bowing. “Follow me, please.”

It felt a little odd, he noticed, to be following behind a girl who was older than him. He and Lucy were, possibly, the youngest in this castle so far. It surprised him that there weren’t more children. He could identify most of the monks that lined the walls, standing as guards, all of them having come from his little village. He paid them no mind, looking at all the extravagant carpeting and tapestries, the ornately carved tables and urns. The show of wealth was impressive.

The maid stopped at large, wooden door.

“If you’ll wait here for just a moment.”

Desmond nodded, blinking as she spoke to a guard, who went into the room. He could feel the comforting weight of his staff on his back, the hat nice and cool on his head. It was much warmer here by the volcano than back home. It was almost too hot. He adjusted his cloak absentmindedly, liking how it kept him cooler, and looked around the hall.

“Excited? We’re meeting a real king.”

“You would have met him anyway,” Desmond muttered. “You were being sent off in just a matter of days.”

She rolled her eyes. “But still…”

He grinned at her, watching as the doors opened and they were summoned in. “Yeah. I am pretty excited.”

They walked into the hall until they were a few feet away from a few stairs and two large thrones. Desmond’s eyes widened at the sight of the king, fat and overly-dressed in all his riches. When Lucy bowed, he followed suit.

“Are you two the summoner and friend?”

“Yes, your majesty,” Lucy said.

He figured that he should let Lucy do the talking, and he concentrated more on his feet. Eventually, his eyes wandered as they talked, He frowned when he noticed Rebecca standing off to the side, leaning against the wall and watching with several of the guards with a young man who had glasses and a high-collared green robe and a yellow scar tied around his neck. He was wearing grey pants and large brown belt that had a white shirt tucked into it. The boy had red-brown hair and brown eyes. He tilted his head as the kid met his gaze, making a nodding motion toward the king and scowling. He turned back to look at Lucy, who was looking at him impatiently.

“Yeah?”

She sighed, irritated, and he frowned.

“What?”

“Summon Shiva for him.”

“Why?”

“Desmond!” she huffed. “He’s the king.”

He could hear the kid off to the side laughing at him, and he glared at Lucy. “What does it matter if he’s king?”

Lucy groaned, turning to the king and apologizing for one thing or another.

“Look, I don’t get it. Why’s he so important?”

“He’s… the king.”

“So?”

“The king, Desmond, he rules this land.”

“He does?”

By now, all the guards were hardly holding back laughter, and both Rebecca and the kid were laughing.

“Yes, Desmond,” she said, sounding exhausted.

“Don’t give me that voice!” he growled. “You know I haven’t been allowed into any of the lessons you were in. I wasn’t exactly well-loved.”

He snarled in the direction of Rebecca and the boy as Lucy said something to the king.

“Desmond, please summon Shiva.”

He scowled, throwing his hand up in the air and calling out for Shiva. He shivered when a chill ran through his body, and he watched as a blizzard appeared from nowhere. It swirled back around him and vanished, leaving Shiva in his cloak. The god turned and smiled warmly at him, and he smiled as Kadar threw him the cloak with a flourish. He held it delicately, beaming, as silence swept over the hall.

“And Desmond,” the god said, cupping his cheek and leaning in close, one hand on his leg and his butt popped out.

There was more female than male about him. Regardless, the summon smirked.

“Don’t listen to them. The king is an ignorant puppet of his advisors, a tool for war. This goes for any of the kings you’ll see. You’re above them, kiddo. And if you don’t believe me, just wait until you get us all, then you can flatten the world if you like.”

He smiled. “Hi, Shiva.”

The god laughed, kissing his forehead. “Just figured I’d answer your question where others failed.”

“This is the god of the ice crystal?”

Kadar spun around, smiling warmly and bowing, his entire aura mocking. “It’s a pleasure, your highness.”

The king looked upset, and the god turned back to Desmond. “Well, as pleasant as this has been, we must be off. I have to get you to my brother before he decides to close off the cave with lava. There’s not a moment to spare!”

Lucy looked horrified, and Kadar smiled at her, too. “Are you coming, my dear? And that thief girl, where is she? She might like some of the treasure.”

Desmond didn’t fight as Kadar grabbed his hand and pulled him off. He grinned, waving goodbye, and he heard Lucy say a hasty apology and goodbye, followed by the command to have Rebecca and someone else follow. He was pulled from the castle and out of the city, all the way to the base of the volcano, where Shiva stopped, looking up. He could see the god inhaled deeply and bounced slightly.

“Ready, Desmond? It’s been almost a hundred years since I saw him! Come on, off you go!”

Shiva vanished, and he saw Lucy come running up beside him, not even out of breath. “Desmond, did you have to?”

“I don’t think that I could’ve stopped Kadar if I tried.”

“Yeah, well, we have to wait for the other two. That thief girl and the nerdy kid. The boy’s name is Shaun, and, well, Rebecca is here, too.”

“I’m not so sure I want her here. She did just leave us yesterday. And hat boy laughed at me.”

“Well, that’s the hand we’ve been dealt.”

“Why can’t we just shove him into the lava—”

“Desmond,” she growled, and he frowned.

“Just saying. It’s only for this cave, right?”

“Right.”

“Okay,” he said. “But if he dies, it’s not my fault.”

“All right. Play nice. Here they come.”

Shaun was thoroughly out of breath, and even Rebecca was panting. Desmond didn’t even wait before starting up the mountain, and Lucy stopped him by grabbing his robe collar.

“Give them a second.”

“We don’t have a second, according to Shiva!” Desmond said, scowling. “Besides, we don’t need them. Shiva invited only you.”

Lucy gave him a disapproving look, and he scowled. Shiva danced before his eyes, beckoning him to go, to follow, and he squirmed with excitement. He waited all of two minutes before he took off up the mountain. He could see the image of Shiva moving in front of him, beckoning him, eager to be reunited with his brother. When Kadar paused in front of a treasure chest, he knelt down and opened it.

“A gift,” he heard whispered in his ear. “My brother has long expected you, and the disappearance of the colors in the sky has signified you have come for him.”

He watched a key of ice appear from nowhere, and he opened the chest to see a tent laying there. He tilted his head.

“Bloody hell, you ignorant prat! Couldn’t you wait for us to—”

“No way,” Rebecca yelped, peering over his shoulder. “A tent? Seriously? Just… waiting on the side of the volcano?”

He smiled at her. “Yup. A gift, from Ifrit.”

“A gift from Ifrit, indeed,” the dorky boy said, smoothing out his robes. “You are the most delusional, ill-mannered, arrogant young man I have ever seen!”

“Shaun,” Lucy snapped. “He’s just excited. This is the first time he’s ever experienced something like this.”

Shaun harrumphed, and he tensed when Rebecca held out her hands for the tent.

“Just trust me, Des, I gave you the money yesterday from our fights, didn’t I? That was all I had. ‘Sides, I’m the only one who can carry it.”

He gave her a suspicious look as he held the tent, feeling like a child again. This was a cool thing, and he had found it, and he wasn’t too keen on letting Rebecca hold it.

“And while we’re on this subject of convenience,” Shaun started, “please tell me you aren’t wearing that into the fire caves.”

Desmond scowled. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

“This is a fire cave,” the boy spit. “Ice is weak against fire, and vice versa. You’re wearing the weakness we should be avoiding!”

He didn’t fight as Rebecca gently pried the tent from his fingers, making it vanish into that mysterious pouch at her side. He hated this boy.

“I don’t care if it’s the weakness. I like the coat.”

“You’re an idiot—”

“Boys!” Lucy snapped, glaring at both of them. Desmond noticed with no small amount of pleasure her gaze softened considerably when on him. “Look, this is no way to start out. Let’s just see how he fares as we progress, and if it makes it too much of a hassle, he’ll take it off.”

Desmond scoffed, pulling his cloak tighter around him and pulling the hat down farther. He had to admit, as he trudged off following the faint image of Shiva, that he really liked the cloak. And the volcano wasn’t too hot, despite what he had been told.

He yelped when large, maliciously-grinning thing materialized in front of him, laughing as he stepped back, Lucy and Rebecca rushing in front of him. Shaun stayed beside him, and he watch as Lucy focused hard. Shaun was flipping through a notebook.

“What is that?” he asked.

Shaun rolled his eyes. “It’s a bomb. It’s weakness is ice and water, but, seeing as how you’re completely ignorant to anything that—”

He snarled, bringing two fingers to his lips as he focused on Shiva.

“Shit, it’s growing bigger!” he heard Lucy shout.

“That’s the specialty of bombs,” Shaun shouted. “They take three hits before they explode!”

“Can we beat it in three hit—”

The ground shook as he twirled around, three large crystal of ice driving into the ground as he danced. When he felt Shiva behind him, he stepped aside, letting him walk forward and catching the cloak when he threw it to him. Lucy and Rebecca backed off, and Desmond smiled as Kadar dropped a large block of ice on it. The bomb was getting bigger, and when Shiva danced out of the way of the fire sent at him, he grinned. He looked over at Shaun, watching as his expression turned into one of astonishment as Shiva did his strongest attack. When it was over, and the bomb was nothing more than a pile of ashes that Rebecca was digging through, Kadar turned to him, smiling.

“Ready to keep going, Desmond?”

“Yeah!” he breathed, grinning and getting ready to dismiss him before Lucy caught his sleeve.

“Hold up, Desmond. God Shiva—”

“Kadar, I insist,” the god said, still smiling warmly.

She nodded, holding out her weapon. “Will you turn these…”

He was already making them before she could finish, transforming them into a nasty looking set of icicle claws. Lucy thanked him profusely before he vanished partially and becoming a thin wisp again, leading Desmond off. He followed faithfully, encouraged by the loot they got from monsters and the brand new knife they found. It was just like his, covered in ice, so he let Rebecca keep it, and before they knew it, they were standing outside of the entrance to the cave.

“Are you going to take it off?”

He turned to see Rebecca looking at him curiously. He tilted his head. “Take what off?”

“The cloak? To protect yourself?”

He looked down at it and sighed, shrugging it off and pulling off the hat, only to get hit with a huge blast of heat. He staggered, dropping them without realizing it, blinking as he tried to gather his bearings. He inhaled deeply, fighting the instinct to breathe rapidly and trying to calm the sudden quick beating of his heart.

“Desmond?” he thought he heard Lucy say, but he shook his head and turned toward the cave, stepping in.

His vision was swimming. He felt as if he were roasting alive in the cave. His legs felt like jelly, and his stomach hurt from all the sudden heat. He staggered, feeling his leg give out beneath him, and he fell awkwardly onto his side, hardly remembering to catch himself on his hands.

“Desmond!”

He swallowed thickly, watching as the ground rippled and waved beneath him. He couldn’t help but wonder if the others were dying of heat as he was. It was ridiculously hot in here. He was panting, he was sure of it, and he could feel his heart speeding up even more. His eyelids were fluttering in front of his eyes, and he collapsed.

He was immediately surrounded by snow and blessed cold after he met black, and he could see Shiva in front him, frowning.

“Don’t listen to them, Desmond. They don’t know what they’re doing. We give you these gifts for a reason. Do not let them persuade you otherwise.”

“I didn’t know it would be so hot!” he snapped. “I felt fine otherwise! Nice and cool!”

“That is because that hat and cloak regulate your body temperatures. The others can handle it. Even Lucy, who has been trained for fighting here. You cannot. I will protect, but you must let me.”

“But Shaun said—”

“It’s a risk you’ll have to take, Desmond. Besides,” the god said with a wink, “Rauf will take good care of you, and my brother has left you another good gift farther in. Perhaps not so excellent as mine, but whatever.”

Desmond blinked, and he was jolting awake with a huge gasp of wonderful, refreshing, cold air. He sat up, his hands clasping his arms as he felt the ice cloak beneath his fingers, and he grinned. Shaking his head, he noticed Lucy sitting beside him, and he nudged her. She jolted awake, staring at him. He smiled.

“Desmond!”

He felt arms around his neck before he knew what was happening.

“Don’t do that again,” she hissed, hugging him tighter. “The cave closed after we entered, so we had to find an alcove to wait for you in.”

He laughed, hugging her back. “I’m never listening to them again.”

“I’ve already told them to not order you around.”

“Awesome. Thanks, Lucy.”

She sighed, and he could feel her chest heave with the movement. Dressed in his robes and hat again, he felt much better. His hands curled on her sides, and he inhaled deeply. They stayed like that for several seconds before he felt Lucy pull away, and he met her gaze.

“Ready to get going?”

He smiled. “Yeah. And Shiva told me there’re treasures in here, too, so we should go treasure hunting!”

She rose and helped him up, stepping out to where Rebecca and Shaun were talking. They paused as they emerged, and Rebecca waved.

“Sorry about that, Des!”

He shook his head. “That’s okay. I went along with it, didn’t I?”

“If you two are done,” Shaun hissed, “I would greatly enjoy if we could get moving. I would like to get out of here.”

Desmond rolled his eyes but said nothing more as he led them off, wandering proudly through the caves. With the ice claws, Lucy was able to take down a bomb in three hits, and Rebecca’s sticky fingers were rapidly improving (as well as her skills with a knife). Shaun would prattle on uselessly about whatever they were fighting, and they all agreed that Desmond should stick to summoning Leonardo for most of their fights. He did, actually, summon the Wyrdhare once, laughing as it bounced around on the ground, giving out potions like candies or occasionally throwing around a healing spell.

After the fight, it hopped into his arms and demanded to be carried, nuzzled down nicely in his cloak. Shaun rolled his eyes, thoroughly displeased, and Rebecca cooed over it briefly before a giant slug made of fire attacked them. The beasts in this cavern were aggressive, and every few steps something would climb from the wall, or fall from the ceiling, or crawl out of the lava, and by the time they reached another little alcove, they were all wiped out.

“Can we rest here?” Desmond asked.

He was sporting a new hat, one made of woven red crystals, and it helped cancel out the weakness of his ice cloak. He also had a knife made of lava tucked into the back of his belt, so Rebecca had the two ice knives. Lucy had a brand-new headband that nullified some of the power of fire, and even Shaun received a new book. Rebecca had taken their old gear and stuffed it into that small little pouch, one that had a portal to some sort of space where she could store everything. Desmond didn’t understand, just nodded, smiling, and hugged the Wyrdhare tighter.

He watched as Rebecca pulled out the tent, and he set it up as Lucy went hunting with a little help from the Wyrdhare. When the creature came hopping back in, Lucy had a dead wolf in her arms, black as the dried lava and streaked with red. He helped her spit it and cook it before serving it up. Shaun was distracted by the new text, and by the time they were done eating, all of them were packed into the tent, sleeping comfortably in a pile in the alcove. They could bond at a later date.

He was the last one to wake, stepping out of the tent groggily and stretching. He could feel all three sets of eyes on him as he grunted, feeling his shirt ride up underneath the cloak. He blinked as he let his arms fall down to his sides, and there was a few seconds more of silence before he heard Shaun speak.

“About time, Mister High-and-Mighty. We’ve been waiting.”

“Sorry,” he slurred.

Lucy smiled at him. “It’s okay, Desmond. You aren’t used to such exercise.”

He smiled back at her, shaking like a dog and stretching one last time. All of his muscles were sore, but he felt refreshed, and he knew he could handle Ifrit. He could feel the nervousness settling in the pit of his stomach, clenching all his insides. This would be a tough battle—tougher than the ones yesterday, which he didn’t actually remember much of from being so exhausted. Rebecca and Lucy were set and ready to head into the next room. He looked back at the tent.

“It’s useless now,” Rebecca said. “It’ll break if we try to take it down.”

Desmond scowled, but adjusted his cloak and nodded, taking the small snack she handed him. Shaun had wandered over, and he could see the nervousness in his eyes. He wondered if they could, actually, handle Ifrit. Rebecca winked at him.

“Ready?”

He grinned. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

They stepped into the next room, where a large red crystal hovered over a huge pit of lava. There was a path that led to it, and Desmond could feel himself drawn toward it. He led them around to the path, and he trudged upward until he could reach the crystal, and he leaned out to touch it.
Only to have it shatter when he did, followed by a hiss.

“Who dares disturb my slumber?”

He stumbled backward when the ground lurched, falling behind the others on his rump as an arm, richly tan with fire coming off the elbow, pulled up a furious-looking man. He trembled at the sight of the man, muscular and brimming with power his eyes filled with living flame, and Lucy and Rebecca stepped in front of him. He hardly noticed the lack of one arm, more intimidated by the large, vicious-looking black claws on the other hand and the feet and the tattered pants that burned around his waist. Black hair dissolved into a fiery mane that covered the back of his neck and shoulders, and two large black horns were sticking out of his head, curving like a bow. He flinched when the man roared loud enough that rocks fell from the top of the volcano and splashed into the lava.

“Children sent by Rikkin, no doubt. I will roast you! Feel my power!”

He brought his arms up at the outcry, and he was unfortunate enough that the man swiped at him first. He staggered back at the impact, alarmed as the blood seeped through the large gashes.

“Desmond!” he heard Lucy cry, and he panicked.

He had never been injured like this before. It always happened to Lucy or Rebecca. He could see the blood oozing and dripping onto the ground, coloring it dark red, and he whimpered. Still, he pulled himself from it when Shaun hollered him, and he summoned the Wyrdhare. The healing spell the creature used closed his wounds over nicely, and he stepped back to let it take his place. It didn’t last long before the man picked it up and cleaved it neatly in two with a claw. Desmond was petrified that his ally had just been brutally ripped in two as he stepped forward again, preparing to summon Leonardo, and when he did, it was a matter of seconds before he was baked alive when the man unleashed a fire and rock storm on his allies with another powerful roar. Desmond swallowed, summoning Rauf, who healed them all quickly—but sent the powerful man into an uncontrollable rage.

He watched as the man froze when he first saw Asura, then scowled. Desmond was standing back as he watched his allies hop back up, and the man’s eyes went from being filled with living flame to being flame. Desmond yelped when the demon lit himself with fire. He watched as Lucy attacked, doing considerable damage, but the flames grew steadily higher and hotter. He noticed how Rauf’s angry face was showing, and he was casting magic to give them a green aura, and a pink aura, and a red aura, and all other kinds. But the man wasn’t attacking, just getting more covered in flames until he saw the man inhale deeply, and he cried out as he watched a large column of fire sweep over his allies, his demise blocked by Asura. He was horrified as he saw all three of them fall and Rauf vanish into a million different pieces. He stepped forward tentatively.

“You, why do you come?” the man growled, and Desmond’s response was frozen in his throat.

He was building what energy he had to summon Shiva, his last ditch chance. He could see the man getting angry. He lifted his fingers to his mouth, trembling. He had had some semblance of hope when they started, but now he was pretty damn sure he was going to die here, baked alive, and he would never be able to help Kadar.

“Was it Rikkin who sent you?”

He whimpered, shaking his head, as he closed his eyes. The man roared again, and he flinched as he heard the rocks come crashing down, the hot swirl of fire surrounding him and leaving a nice burn on his face. He was having so much trouble concentrating, and he yelled in pain when he felt those claws sink into his arm and leave more gashes.

“Answer me, you insolent fool!”

“Shiva!” he cried, throwing his hand up and looking to the heavens.

He could feel the ground shake as the three humongous ice crystals pounded into the ground behind him and the refreshing gust of freezing air surround him, making him feel slightly more courageous. He didn’t open his eyes though, too afraid of seeing the ice god be destroyed. He felt Shiva move him gently to the side and wrap him in his cloak, and he stepped back, watching and hoping he wasn’t going to die.

“You are such a brute, Malik.”

Desmond cracked open an eye, still terrified.

“Desmond, meet Ifrit. Call him Mal or Malik, if you like. This is my brother.”

He flinched at the narrowing of the man’s eyes.

“This is your summoner?”

“Take it easy on him, brother. I have been watching him. He was very… sheltered, but he is talented. Worthy, indeed, of our power.”

The man’s gaze swept over his comrades. “Then I suppose I went too far with the others.”

Kadar nodded disapprovingly. “Desmond, why don’t you bring Rauf back out, hm? He can take care of them. No need to dismiss me. I’m staying right here. I won’t leave you alone, I promise.”

“He’s still alive?” Desmond whispered.

Kadar laughed, and Malik scowled. He flinched.

“I see what you mean. Did they not give him any schooling in his own powers?”

“He grew up amongst the most asshole-ish monks I’ve ever seen!” Kadar cried, throwing his hands up in the air before smiling at Desmond. “But yes, kiddo, they are all still alive. They just need a bit of time to rest. Do you have someone else you could summon for healing?”

He blinked. The only one he hadn’t tried was the Wild Onion he had obtained. He curled his lip in indecision before slamming his staff into the ground. “Wild Onion!”

Much to his surprise, he got not one, but five of the crazy little things that came running to his summon. One had the head of a pumpkin and a purple shirt, another with a tomato as a head and super long and sharp teeth with a striped suit, another with an onion head and a red shirt, a purple thing with blood-red eyes and a bean shoot sticking out of its head, and a fifth one with a drill coming out of its head and a dark purple body. They ran around, arms flailing as they figured out what they were doing, then all of a sudden, all of his allies were stirring and the five different plants were climbing up his cloak and his wounds were healed. Kadar was laughing, and even the fire god was watching.

“How adorable! You must have really impressed them when you were playing with the Wild Onions!”

Desmond tilted his head, scrambling to catch the purple one with the horn as it screeched from falling off his head. “What do you mean?”

“That’s the Mandragora family! The one with the horn is the Alraune King, and the Onion Queen, the Mandragora Prince has the sprout on his head, the Topstalk is the tomato, and the Pumpkin Star! Oh, just look at you go! Such a powerful young thing!”

He glanced at Ifrit for just a second, seeing something akin to approval in his eyes, and he swallowed as the Topstalk screamed, sending chills down his spine and making him shiver violently. Ifrit snorted.

“He still has a long way to go.”

“We still have a long way to go. So, are you coming? We’re heading over the wall next, and he’ll need both of us and that wind demigod he favors.”

He found himself hugging Lucy when she rose. She was trembling, ever so slightly, not used to thing quite so powerful.

“And the others?”

“They will have to stay here,” Kadar murmured. “They cannot handle the sleeping fog—well, perhaps the…” he gestured flippantly at Shaun, sighing, “him. He can. That kid.”

“Would it not be smarter to send that girl he likes so much?”

“No—honestly, Malik, this is Ezio we’re talking about. A god like him, I can guarantee you that no beast will be able to resist his sleeping spell.”

“No breast will be able to resist him, you mean,” Ifrit hissed.

Desmond frowned. He didn’t want to take Shaun with him. He jerked when Ifrit threw his head back and laughed.

“There, see, Kadar! Even the summoner doesn’t like the idea of working with the bookworm or sending his lady to deal with a pervert. Send him by himself. He can do it, if he is as powerful as you preach.”

Kadar puffed up, looking irate. “Fine! Desmond will do it by himself, and—”

“H-hey! Don’t we get any say in this at all?” he yelped, wrapping his arm around Lucy’s waist and pulling her close.

“Yeah!” Rebecca chimed in. “I wanted to see the cave of the water crystal!”

Malik snorted, and Desmond watched as smoke came from his nostrils. “No—”

“But Rebecca said there were something called Tonberrys there! There’s no way I’m fighting one of those frightening beasts without Lucy, at least!”

“Tonberrys?” Kadar asked, falling silent, then chuckling. “Desmond, there is so very much you still have yet to learn. Trust me: if you want Ifrit to join you, you will do this alone. If you are as powerful as I think you are, a Tonberry will be no problem.”

He shrank down slightly, giving Kadar a worried look, and the man came over, hugging him tightly. “Don’t worry, Mal will be right beside you the entire time.”

“I will?” the fire god deadpanned.

“Yes, you will, Mal. He’ll need a light, and you are just the thing he’ll need. So, why don’t you teleport us all out of here, and we’ll take off while you three go to greet the king for us, okay?”

There was uproar from his allies, but he was still smooshed in Kadar’s hug, unable to protest. He flinched when Ifrit roared, clinging to Kadar momentarily, and silence reigned.

“Our decision is made,” Malik growled, “unless you would like to stay in here.”

He swallowed when he heard the others agree hesitantly, and he watched as the scenery faded to the castle’s throne room. Kadar let go, taking his cloak back and wrapping it around himself as he straightened.

“Your majesty!” he exclaimed as loudly and obnoxiously happy as he could.

The king jerked from his trance, and Desmond smirked. He was going to rub it in. He looked when he felt Malik’s hand on his shoulder, and he was entranced by the man. What he lacked in beauty compared to his brother he made up for with the sheer promise of power, and he inhaled sharply when the god looked at him just briefly. He swallowed, and the god’s lips curved up, just the slightest, in amusement. He tore his gaze away to look at the king, who Kadar was harassing.

“Ruler of these lands, who I have blessed with fertile soil and prosperity, who I have protected from the evils of the world beyond with the wall, I am taking this boy. You are to care for these three children who will remain and give them the best.”

The king narrowed his eyes, clearly not wanting to, and being mad for such improper treatment. Malik snorted smoke out again, and Desmond swallowed when he narrowed his eyes.

“If you do not, I will be forced to replace you. You are human, not god, nor will you ever be, and I have graciously not wiped your village from these lands as I was so tempted to do at first, so you will obey me.”

The king straightened, alarmed, and nodded cautiously.

“Desmond, let’s go.”

Desmond opened his mouth to protest, only to close it when he realized that the god wasn’t kidding, and if he was actually going to be of any help, he would follow what Malik told him. He deflated, running a hand through his hair as the tight feeling in his gut came back.

“Do we have to today?”

“Yes. The sooner we free Titan and Anima from their binds and rid the world of Rikkin, the better we will be. The man acts quickly from his immunity to the sleeping fog, and we must rally the other crystals quickly before he reaches the heavens.”

Desmond sighed, hugging Lucy and Rebecca goodbye, and he jolted when he felt the thief attach the bag that made everything disappear to his belt. She grinned and winked at him.

“Get me something good, you hear?”

He grinned, trying to ignore the tightening of his belly. He was terrified of the Tonberrys that Rebecca mentioned. They were big, ugly, monstrous creatures that lived in the shadows and sucked out souls from the bleeding lanterns they carried. He waved goodbye to Shaun, who rolled his eyes, before following the two crystal gods out. When he looked over his shoulder one last time, he felt like vomiting as he tried to send them a smile. As he summoned Valefor, he almost couldn’t. He wanted to say, “No, I’m not a hero,” because this was more than he had ever asked for, and he just wanted to take a nap right now. He didn’t even have a tent to sleep in if the journey took forever.

He stroked the feathers on Valefor’s neck as he took off, watching as Shiva skated on frozen wind and Ifrit ran on molten lava. He settled down, trying not to be afraid as he saw the green fog appear over the wall. Valefor flew higher and higher, until Desmond was hugging his face as he watched the green fog sail by below them. He didn’t want to do this by his lonesome, and he was afraid of what would happen otherwise, but it was time for him to face up to it. After all, he had wanted adventure, and here he was, getting a free pass for it, as well as new friends and a chance to strike back at all the people in the village that had held him captive for so long.

But that still didn’t stop the cold chill of dread he got when thinking about the Tonberrys that waited for him.

He looked when he felt Ifrit land on Valefor, and he grunted as the man smooshed him down, and then his beloved bird-god was doing a nosedive toward the water, and he couldn’t help the scream he let out. When the water grew even closer, he squeezed his eyes shut, realizing he couldn’t avoid it, and he sucked in a huge breath as he felt the water try to rip him from Valefor’s back. He didn’t open his eyes, covering his mouth and nose with his hands and trying not to breathe out. It grew harder and harder to not breathe in, and he felt as if he were going to die by the time that Valefor screeched, emerging from the waters in a small alcove.

Desmond clung tightly to Valefor’s back for a while, trying to gather his bearings as he breathed in deeply, reveling in the fresh, chilly air of the underground. Eventually, he slid off, opening his eyes as he held onto one of the chains that hung off his favorite. It was completely dark at first, he thought, but as his eyes adjusted, he saw that small patches of phosphorescent algae and mushrooms gave it a little light and made it beautiful. Green fog rolling through the tunnels of the cave reflected the little light, dazzling him with the way it danced.

“Figures,” Ifrit snorted, and Desmond looked at him. He did not look pleased as he shook himself off. He winced, covering his eyes briefly as his elbow, knees, and back of his shoulders all lit up with flame. “Only the most ridiculously extravagant for the leviathan. If he’s going to live in a cave under the sea, he may as well not even put this here.”

Desmond tilted his head as he lowered his arm, finding Ifrit staring at him with a disapproving scowl. “Ready, novice?”

He rolled his eyes and nodded, setting off into the cave.

Much to his surprise, there were no treasures. There were hardly any monsters at all, and the only ones he saw were sleeping peacefully in little groups. He would stop and look at them closely, summoning Ifrit closer so that he could see better in the hazy green. The entire thing made him feel as if he were walking in a dream, and he stepped closer to Ifrit just to keep himself from going crazy. His jaw was set, and his legs and feet ached, but he was determined to prove to Ifrit—and himself—that he could do this. He had asked for adventure, and he was going to get it.

He also decided that the sleepy fog had put all the Tonberrys to sleep, and he felt more confident about the fact that he wouldn’t die. It made it easier to look in every corner for something, and to progress to the fourth level of this ridiculous cave without problem. The phosphorescent plants were gone in this level, leaving him with only Ifrit to help light his path. The god was silent, but Desmond was okay with that as he continued exploring. He could tell he was being analyzed the entire time, always feeling those eyes on him.

When his stomach growled loudly, he rooted around in the magic pouch for something to eat, finding some sort of jerky that he summoned Leonardo for an okay to eat. After the fairy gave him his approval, he bit into it, pacing along with Sylph on his shoulder. It was quiet, but that was fine, and he was surprised when he saw a light farther into the cave. It was hard to tell anything other than that it was just a light, but he picked up his pace.

“Hey!” he shouted, not realizing that Ifrit wasn’t beside him.

Leonardo was holding onto him as he ran toward it, realizing that whoever held the light was small. He could eventually see the outline of a small creature, with a round head and a fishy tail sticking out of a burlap-esque, hooded cloak. He crouched down, catching his breath as the creature turned to look at him. He looked at it, smiling. In one hand, it had a chef’s knife, and in the other, a small red lantern. It was maybe two feet tall, with bright yellow eyes and shoes. He grinned, waving a hand.

“H-hey! Do you know your way around here?”

It took a step forward, and he watched it, realizing it had no mouth as he bit into the jerky he had in his hand. It held up the lantern as it watched him eat, and he tilted his head, offering it out.

“Would you like some? I don’t mind sharing. I don’t know how you’d eat it, but if you want some, I don’t mind. There’s no point in killing a beast for food if you don’t eat it all, right?”

He laughed as it took another step forward. It was a slow beast, but it was super cute, and Desmond was tempted just to pick it up and hug it.

“Desmond…” Leonardo started, and Desmond shook his head.

“Hold on, Leonardo.”

He turned back to the creature as it continued to pace forward. He plopped down, waiting for it to come within arm’s reach before he offered the jerky again.

“I don’t know if you eat this stuff, but it’s not all that bad.”

The creature stopped, looking at the jerky, and he jerked his hand back in surprise when it stabbed the jerky with the knife. He blinked, watching as it brought it up to its non-existent mouth and watched it disappear. He nodded.

“See? Not too bad. I don’t know what creature was made into the jerky, but I didn’t really want to waste the rest. I’m glad you like it. Ifrit!”

He turned to find the god, only to have him missing. He frowned, looking around before turning back to the creature, that was right in front of him, the lantern raised as it stared at him with those innocent-looking yellow eyes. He frowned.

“My light left me. Can I borrow yours? Or you?”

Leonardo was shifting uncomfortably on his shoulder. Desmond frowned, looking at him only briefly before turning back and meeting the creature’s gaze.

“May I? I know it’s a bother, but I don’t know how I can see around here.”

He watched as it turned around, walking off, when it paused and looked behind it, he jumped to his feet.

He fell in step beside the little thing. “You know, I never thought I’d do something like this. Thank you so much for all your help.”

They walked a ways off before the creature stopped, and he looked down at it. It was staring back up at him, and he could feel Leonardo flinch when it stabbed the knife up at him. He cocked his head.

“Yeah, I can carry you.”

He bent over and scooped it up, wrapping one arm under the feet and another under the arms, letting it guide him with its knife. Leonardo seemed less than enthused about him carrying the beast, but he ignored it until he found himself stepping into an open room with a giant lake at the bottom. He started walking around the edges, following the path, until the creature squirmed, holding up its light to reveal the crystal. It shimmered as if it was made of water, and he smiled.

“You’re a blessing. Thanks for all your help. I’m afraid I don’t have anything to give you,” he murmured as he set the creature down. It stared up at him, and he winced. “I’m sorry. I don’t have anything. The jerky is gone.”

It jabbed up at him again with the knife, and he quirked an eyebrow.

“Uh… I guess I can carry you some more.”

He bent back over and picked it back up, holding out the arm under the shoes to touch the crystal.

“And just what is an ignorant child like yourself doing here?”

He turned to see an older man with a white lab coat standing a pace off.

“And just how did you get to touch a Tonberry? Don’t tell me you’re the summoner. Pathetic.”

He frowned. “I’m a summoner. And this isn’t a Tonberry. Those things are hideous and terrifying.”

“It’s true,” Leonardo whispered into his ear. “That’s what I was trying to tell you.”

The older man sighed disgustedly and stepped forward to touch the crystal, but Desmond scowled, stepping in front of him and pushing him backward.

“Who the hell are you?”

The man sighed, irritated. “I’m Dr. Warren Vidic, now, if you’ll excuse me, I have business—”

Desmond snarled. “I don’t think so. I got here first.”

Dr. Vidic’s eyes narrow. “You are so ignorant, child, to think that you stand a chance against me.”

He set the Tonberry down, letting it start to walk off, and he pulled his staff from his back, dismissing Leonardo as Warren called for two men dressed in guard armor. He watched as Vidic gave them instructions, preparing to summon an ally. When he felt sharp pain rip through his leg and Vidic give a verbal lashing to the man who had hurt him. He snarled, throwing his hand into the air.

“Adrammelech!” he shouted as he saw the men raise their weapons.

He saw the rune light up behind him as the creature stepped forward again, and when Adrammelech emerged, Desmond grinned.

“Already summoning me again?”

“Help?”

Talal rolled his eyes, scanning the enemies. “You have a Tonberry helping you? You should have to problem, then.”

He watched as the men pulled triggers on their weapons as Talal prepared to fry them all with lightning, and he watched the creature swing its lantern. He stepped back at the mass of souls that appeared from it and engulfed the soldiers, causing them to fall over, dead, once the things returned to the lantern. Adrammelech laughed at his surprised expression as he stepped back, toward the crystal, and the lightning god sent a ball of lightning from his palm to Vidic, who staggered as he called for more men. Talal disappeared, much to Desmond’s chagrin, and his leg still hurt like a bitch, but he decided perhaps he should help his temporary ally.

He called for the Mandragora family, which attacked the men Vidic summoned like savages, and his eyes widened and he stepped back again as the Onion and the Prince fell back, healing all of them and even his wound. He nodded his thanks and watched as they ripped at the men, clearing the way for the Tonberry to get closer, and by the time the Tonberry was close enough, one of the men stepped between them, catching the stab and falling over instantly, dead. Desmond’s eyes grew even wider as he watch the Tomato rip into the neck of the other men, and there were more storming the tiny pathway with more technology he didn’t understand, until he watched his allies get ripped to shreds, the only one standing the Tonberry and the Tomato.

He stepped back, again, as the Tomato was shot in the head. He gritted his teeth as the men advanced, surrounding the Tonberry. He stepped back, only to realize there was no ground. He pinwheeled his arms, smacking his hand against something, and he cried out for help as he fell toward the dark waters.

When his back hit the water, he looked to see two arms holding him and an amused face. He swallowed at the humored brown eyes and the two feelers that extended off the corners of the man’s mouth. There were fins where ears should be, and the man had long black hair that was tied back with what looked like sea foam.

“You seemed to have mis-stepped, my darling. Let me help you.”

He yelped as he was forcefully projected upward, landing on his rump next to the Tonberry, and he froze as he saw nothing but the barrels of the strange technology surround him. He watched as Vidic paced toward the crystal, and before he could reach out and touch it, a large wave of water rose from the lake. The same man was riding atop it, dressed in a beautifully woven white tee-shirt and green pants. He had fins coming off his elbows, his hands and feet as webbed claws. The backs of his legs were webbed, and there was a huge, shimmering fin that protruded from his back, trailing from the neck to the tailbone, and Desmond inhaled sharply when he noticed the scar on his lips that looked just like his.

He watched as the huge wave crashed over all of the evil men, sweeping them all into the waters. He could see the water around him, surrounding him, rolling over him, but not touching him or the Tonberry. He swallowed as the water pulled back, and he was left with just Vidic, the Tonberry, and his new ally, who was smirking as he stepped gracefully onto the path.

“You must be the man Rikkin sent for me, yes?”

Vidic frowned, glaring at the water god, not seeing as the Tonberry approached him. The god looked beautiful—although still not as beautiful as Shiva. He seemed a little less amused now, and perhaps a bit more dangerous, but nevertheless, Desmond knew he was on the right side. The man walked forward, and Desmond could see the water pooling at his feet, leaving little puddles where he walked.

“That does not matter,” Vidic snapped, pulling out a button, and the water god gasped. “Your crystal will be ours whether or not you like it.”

He went to press the button, but instead, as the man went to swipe it from him, grunted, grabbing his stomach, and Desmond’s eyes were wide as he saw the blood quickly spreading from the wound the chef’s knife made. The Tonberry simply blinked, watching as he fell. The man gurgled as it withdrew the knife, and he flinched at the slick sound it made. The water god paced over beside the little creature, meeting its gaze.

“Thank you, my friend.”

He watched as the god summoned some water from the lake to clean the knife off, and Desmond swallowed when he saw him turn and look at him.

“The summoner, hm?”

“Yes, although I am still not inclined to believe it.”

He jolted when Ifrit appeared from nowhere, and he watched as the fish god nodded at the other.

“He seems young.”

“You say that of all who plead your help.”

“If I go, however, I will have to lift the fog, and that will allow Titan’s and Anima’s destruction to reign in those regions.”

He watched as Malik turned that sharp gaze upon him, his one arm dangling at his side.

“Desmond will be fine. Of that I am sure. By sheer stupidity, he befriended the Tonberry, and I’m sure he will continue to befriend other beasts as we travel. Your help would be appreciated when we go to tame Titan.”

The god frowned, looking at the crystal. Desmond looked down when he felt the Tonberry bump into him, and he picked it up, cradling it in his lap as he looked back to the gods. Finally, the water god sighed and walked over to his crystal, touching it lightly and shattering it. He pulled back slightly as he watched him come walking over, staring down at him.

“Very well, I will help you. Give me your hand.”

Desmond reached out from his spot, wondering where the amused god from the waters had gone, only to feel his skin crawl as he felt the water god’s power absorb into him.

“Call me Ezio,” the god said as he pulled him up, and Desmond nodded.

“You two look alike. Are you sure this boy does not have a diluted god-bloodline from some ancestor you helped spawn in your younger years?”

Ezio scoffed. “Perhaps, for now, let us get him out of here. He is trembling. He must be exhausted and hungry. The Tonberry said that he shared his only snack with him. Lend him your power, Malik. The boy will need our strength to withstand Titan—”

“Lucy’s not going to be killed if she tries to come with, will she?” he asked, adjusting his grip on the Tonberry and frowning at the god.

Ezio looked at him, raising an eyebrow as his lips curled up. “Lucy?”

“His beloved,” Malik said. “The only mature one among them.”

“She must be impressive if she receives praise from you.”

Desmond’s stomach rumbled loudly, and Ezio looked at it. He looked down. “Sorry about that.”

“You have been in here for almost twenty-four hours. Come. Let us get you food and rest. Adrenaline can only do so much.”

He blinked as Ezio wrapped an arm around him, covering his nose and filling his nostrils with a pleasing smell. His eyelids grew heavy, and he found himself asleep.
------------
I hope you're enjoying, anon, and I hope they're not too OOC, but with such a different world, it's hard to imagine some of these things. And if it feels as if it's moving too fast, let me know. I'm trying to cram enough material to make its own game into a single story, so I may be rushing more than I realize. XD Anyway, enough of my excuses.

I don't use these words often, but:

ALL OH MY UNBORN BABIES!
Please someone, fill this!

please do! Other ones like 'clipped' are good but never exactly what I want

sounds cute. i want.

I think there might have been a request or three like this, but I haven't come acrossed any like this one so far.

Leonardo has had enough. Too much violence, too much death. With the way that the Assassins and Templars are going about their war, it is never going to end. Just linger on and kill more and more people. So, as if dealing with a bandage, Leonardo plans on ending it quickly. It will be bloody, and it will hurt, but it -will- be over.

I want to see what happens if he puts that genius brain and the charisma that he supposedly had in spades(and maybe the Apple). Do both sides turn against him? Can he convince Ezio this is for the best?

Bonus points if Leonardo's inventions show up.

There are many kinds of killers in the world. There are those few who take the lives of others for amusement, or to have some sick feeling of control over fate. The kind that never see anything wrong with killing to begin with. Many people assume these are the most dangerous sorts of killers, wild animals that cannot be controlled or taught otherwise.

Then there are the sort of killers, the sort that do it for a purpose. The cold, calculating men and women who sit in rooms and plot earnestly the deaths of their enemies. Sometimes there is little that differentiates them from the first sort of killer, but usually they still feel some measure of human emotion over their kills. They try to balance the weight of the executions with the benefit of what is gained. Occasionally they even succeed. The conviction that your motives are pure, conviction so strong that you can follow through, walk up to a man and put a blade through his neck as easily as that, is a wonderful and horrible thing.

Somewhere in this second category, on the line between soldier and psychopath, are the assassins. Leonardo believed their cause just, just as they do. He had seen first hand the destruction the Templars had wrought, the lives ended and the worlds demolished for their greed or their cause.
The assassins of old had all been the second sort of killer. And the assassins of the present were trying to mimic them. But they hadn;t been raised into the task of killing men to end conflicts. They had been driven too it, some when they saw family or friends murdered, some when they realized that they hated the government enough to risk their lives in opposition. But even then, all knew, maybe had always known, that they had the capacity to be killers.

Leonardo had no such predilection. He abhorred violence in all forms. The only way he could bring himself to craft the weapons from the plans Ezio brought him was to focus on the technological advancement, the amazing complexity of the machines. To remind himself that Ezio would probably kill with or without Leonardo's assistance, and this way he was giving Ezio's targets the mercy of a quicker death. His gadgets saved his friends; lives and put the Assassins one step closer to ridding Italia of the Borgia.

Most of the time these excuses quieted his conscience, and he could resume his work. If he was honest, it helped that Ezio's victims were high up officials, or nameless guards, both robbed of their humanity in eyes of the common people. The Borgia and their supporters probably thought of the Assassins in the same way. But where they saw a mysterious hooded menace, Leonardo saw a man who had had any semblance of a normal life torn from him, and was forced to kill. A man who bled and could die just as easily as those he hunted.

That evening had started out normally enough. Leonardo had just began to sketch out a commission when a frantic knocking on his door startled him out of his thoughts. He had had enough of these interruptions in the past month to know who it probably was.

The inventor sprang to his feet and opened the door. Ezio stumbled in. He was clutched his side. Dark blood had already seeped through the fabric of his robes. His face was contorted into a snarl of pain.

"Ezio!" Leonardo exclaimed, stepping forward to support his friend. Just as he reached out a hand Ezio was shoved forward by a triumphant-looking guard who had just turned the corner into the doorway. It was one of the fleet footed sorts that could run even faster then assassins. The sword Ezio had been carrying was knocked from his grasp when he hit the ground. The guard's weapon arced plunged the fallen assassin, to finish the job. In the position he was in, Ezio didn't have a prayer of being able to reach his blade and block the blow.

Leonardo's mind raced. With the trajectory the blade was on, the strike would likely puncture one of Ezio's lungs. His friend had recovered grievous injuries before, but it was unlikely he could survive being run through at that angle.

Before he really knew what he would doing, Leonardo snatched up Ezio's sword. How many times had he seen the assassin cleaning blood and gore from it? He had always forced himself not to think of families that would be left bereft, the children who had lost their fathers, the wives who had lost their husbands, to this sword.

Never had he imagined he would ever wield it. It was a very good quality blade, well balanced. Much heavier then it looked, and Leonardo knew in a proper fight he would be disarmed in seconds. But the guard was caught up in the triumph of finally catching the elusive assassin.

He didn't want to kill. But men were often driven to kill. He called himself a coward, and now he would be a coward no matter what. A coward to ignore his morals if he killed the guard, and a coward who had stood by and watched his friend die.

Ezio, who stood for so much to others. He brought hope to the assassins, and struck fear into the hearts of the Templars. A symbol to both sides, human to only a few. Leonardo was one of those few, and he wasn't thinking about the symbol or what the assassin stood for. He was thinking about Ezio, his best friend, just a man who was bleeding out on the pavement.

High and mighty notions had to be tossed aside. Leonardo wasn't the sort of man who could kill and think it was the right thing. He couldn't kill in the name of some cause. He probably couldn't even kill to protect himself.

He could kill to save his friend. With a sudden jerk of his hand he drove the sword into the guard's neck.

All of this transpired in seconds. The guard crumpled without a word. Too numb to think of what he had just did, Leonardo dragged the body into his workshop and slammed the door. He left the dead guard there, and ran to Ezio.

It was some time later, when Ezio was out of danger, that the realization of what he had done hit the inventor.

He cradled his head in his trembling hands, and cried.
(I hope this is something like what you were looking for..)

A very happy op!anon makes happy wiggles at you. Oh, poor Leonardo. He did what he had to do, and he is going to remember it for the rest of his life.

You have made me glee happily. Thank you so much.

No problem! I am glad you liked it ^^

love the fic. This anon is curious if fill!anon plans to write more. If not, would fill!anon mind if this anon wrote Ezio's reaction to finding out just what Leonardo had done for him? There are all sorts of ideas burning in this anon's brain.

Again, love the fill. One can just feel how torn Leonardo is about what he has to do.

Thanks!
No I didnt really plan to write more, I have a few other fills I need to start/finish and a ton of end of the term stuff to do. I would be flattered if you continued this though, go right ahead!

I would have taken any of the above over her death, and I recall one of the de-anons saying that it actually took quite a bit of time to bleed out from a gut wound (herself writing a fic where Lucy indeed ended up in a private clinic). The treatment of that death in Revelations didn't help either, although the now-notorious audio leak suggest that Ubisoft isn't done screwing over dear Lucy either... D=

Would suggest that any fill for this be also cross-linked over in Lucy Appreciation ( asscreedkinkmeme. dreamwidth. org /1611. html ? thread=7831371#cmt7831371 ), she can use all the (posthumous or not) love!

Yes! The world need more Lucy fic, because her story was cut short so roughly.

*hugs Leonardo* And there, dear friends, is the third type of killer. The guy next to you in the fox hole trying to keep you alive. This is a terrible way to get drafted for a war.

WriterAnon here: nope, I haven't I'm just very insecure if I should continue or not -.-

I'm not the anon who drew the numbers, but I couldn't resist. Hope you don't mind a mini-fill:

Sibrand clenched his fist with anger as he watched the two men drawing closer and closer together, their lips almost touching, then skimming, then melding in a passionate kiss that peaked like dramatic music.

All Sibrand could think of was, "Why, Lorenzo? You were supposed to stay true to Giovanni . . . Fuck you for seducing him, Leonardo!"

Then the screen faded to black, and the word "Renaissance" appeared in white letters on a backdrop of red satin sheets.

Sibrand thumped his fist on the TV remote and muttered, "Stupid telenovela."

WriterAnon, you're doing amazing work and you should feel proud of it! Please continue? I don't know if I speak for everyone here but I want this story with the burning force of a thousand suns.

Desmond gets busted out of Abstergo by Lucy, but the Templars don't wait around and replace him.

With Alex Mercer.

Cue shenanigans and violence.

How Abstergo keeps Alex subdued is up to WriteAnon, though this Anon imagines bloodtox and sedatives being involved somehow. Rescue by the Assassins should happen at some point with bonus points to be awarded if they don't know exactly what they're rescuing until it sprouts tentacles and eats a Templar.

Romance is entirely optional but Anon has a ladyboner for Alex/Des. Super bonus points if you can get said romance to make sense somehow.

When he comes to, and he means, actually comes to, he’s in an underground, circular room with statues and machinery and people staring at him as if he had just popped out of the sky.

He remembered what happened before (how could he not?). He had been walking along in a disguise, and all of a sudden, he was attacked, sedated and comatosed by unholy amounts of Bloodtox and sedatives. Of course, it wasn’t the sedatives that actually affected him, but with the Bloodtox in his system, he was nothing more than a drooling vegetable.

“Who the hell are you guys?” he growled, standing up and looking at the poor conditions these people were living in.

A blonde woman stepped forward. He could identify her as Lucy Stillman, product of some unfortunate soul he had consumed. There was Rebecca Crane, too, but he didn’t know the others. These guys were okay, he presumed, providing they weren’t the ones who kidnapped him. He had learned, over a long and hard period of time, to think before acting. There had been many damaged buildings to fix, several funerals to pay for, and a couple of new pets to buy, but he was learning. Slowly.

“You aren’t affiliated with those goons who kidnapped me, are you?”

Of course, those people he had eaten while they tried to hit him with Bloodtox told him these guys were those guys’ enemies. He realized that the blonde woman had been talking, but he had no idea what she had said. She was dithering on, probably, while he internally reminisced. There was too much to know right now, and he was still gathering himself.

“Lucy Stillman, Rebecca Crane. Who are the others, and what are you doing here? Why am I here? Why are you Abstergo’s enemies?”

All of them looked surprised, and his eyes landed on the man sitting in the chair. The rest of the group provided little to look at, labeled “unimportant” in that doctor’s mind. They weren’t nearly as “special” as this man, as the lab rat put it, the one that now swirled around inside him, adding an extensive knowledge about everything he needed.

“Where is my sister? Why were you so important to them? Why did they kidnap me?”

“What.”

His eyes narrowed, and he stared at the man, pulling information from the doctor he had eaten before he had been sedated. He still didn’t know why they had sent their most important person with him to capture him. Still, he presumed as he mulled over the old man, there’s no cure for stupidity.

“Desmond Miles,” he murmured. “Subject Seventeen. Bartender. Ran away from your compound. Your mom was killed in the attack on it when they cam—”

“My mother was killed?” Desmond asked, rising. “Who the hell are you, huh? How do you know this?”

Alex snarled when Desmond crouched into a defensive position. It was something he could identify from the memories of some man he remembered from his comatose state. Similar—almost like—

“Altair Ibn’La-Ahad,” he murmured, tilting his head. “Who are you? Where am I?”

“Lord, this man is supposed to help protect us? He’s just as stupid as lug nut over here. Lucy has already told you this, you dirt-eating—”

Alex’s eyes narrowed, and Lucy wrapped an arm around his head, covering his mouth with her hand.

“You’ll have to forgive him. This is Shaun Hastings, and we are the assassins.”

The assassins, Alex heard, frowning as he could feel a wave of memories getting ready to wash over him. He grunted, pressing his hands to his eyes, hoping to restrain them. He growled as he fought, and when he lost, he couldn’t help but fall to his knees, hissing in pain as they bombarded him.

The assassins, fighting for the freedom of men.

Of course, the Templars thought that most of the world’s problems could be solved with mind control.

A pair of black shoes walking down a hall.

“Sir, we’ve located the Apple!”

They walked into a dark room, which fizzed out to show a conference room filled with suits. What caught his eye was the man standing there. He was young, with slicked back black hair and a thin, pinstripe suit. His eyes were a creepy bluish grey, cold and icy. The conference room was sparse, and he didn’t fit in sunlight from the large window he was standing in.

“Our next subject is a man by the name of Alex Mercer.”

Several screams and cries from a massacre and a hailstorm of bullets. There was blood and there was utter chaos. There was glee.

A feeling of triumph—“We found it!”

Horror at the blood all over the walls.

“Dr. Vidic, you’re the last man I trust. Go with them to ensure Mercer’s capture.”

He roared at the swirl of voices—of Lucy, of the man, of soldiers, and of assassins. He curled in on himself, gripping his hair hard. They were loud, overwhelming, and he couldn’t do anything. He had gotten so good at blocking out memories.

“Your Christmas bonus, Vidic, for your incredible work. Remember to pay Lucy. She’s done an excellent job of playing a double agent.”

A double agent.

A double agent.

Lucy was a double agent.

“Of course,” the lab coat said. “And Rikkin…”

“Yes, Vidic?”

Smug: “I’ll see you tonight?”

A smirk. “Of course, doctor.”

A flash of papers.

“And you have the Bloodtox ready?”

A clinking of wine glasses, several drops fall onto the white carpet.

“You idiots! I told you not to start with the sedative!”

Sprawled out on a couch, too much alcohol.

“I’ll see you in Hell, Vidic.”

A paper with the Abstergo symbol.

“By then, we’ll have taken over, Rikkin.”

The Animus is done.

“My successor is ready, in case I don’t survive.”

Logging in—an email that is written in all capital letters.

“It’ll be hard to kill a bastard like you.”

He smashed his head into the ground—too many marks eaten at once.

“If it’s hard to kill me, Rikkin, it’s impossible to kill you.”

He snarled, slashing at the person who dared touch him. He was volatile right now. He would kill anything that touched him. He stared at the ground as the voices started to die down, the images flashing at a slower pace.

“They’re in the warehouse, sir.”

“I know, ingrate. Lucy has already contacted me. Let’s go.”

His head snapped up, his eyes burning with fury. He was coming undone, and he couldn’t stop it. He could see the astonishment on the people’s faces—the assassins, the traitor.

A paper to be signed was set in front of him.

“What’s this, Vidic?”

“A contract.”

“Really now?”

“Just sign it.”

A flourish of pen, and a beautiful black inked signature sat on the line now. “I’m trusting you, Vidic.”

“I’ve never given you a reason not to.”

His vision swam before him as he staggered to his feet. He snarled again, resisting all urges just to eat the damn woman. He couldn’t believe that Abstergo had made such a huge, terrible mistake. He had taken down the second-in-command of Abstergo Industries. He had information no man should be.
------------
How is this, anon?

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Page 74 of 187

Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt. 4

Re: Assassins + Hiccuping = Not Good Mini-fill - OP

Re: Final Fantasy XXVII

Should be Final Fantasy XXVII-5

Final Fantasy XXVII-6

Final Fantasy XXVII-7

Final Fantasy XXVII-8

Final Fantasy XXVII-9

Final Fantasy XXVII-10

Re: Ezio Torture, Yusuf Comfort

Re: Dark Past

Re: Ezio/Sofia, Ezio/Leonardo

Evil!Leonardo

Re: Do anything to protect....

Opanon gurbles

Re: Opanon gurbles

Non-OPanon asks

Re: Non-OPanon asks

Re: "Hey, remember that time..."

Re: "Hey, remember that time..."

Re: Do anything to protect....

Re: FILL: The List of 388 5/?

Re: Unusual Pairings

Re: FILL: The List of 388 5/?

ZEUS is Subect 18 (Protocreed prompt)

Subject DX-1118C