asscreedkinkmeme ([personal profile] asscreedkinkmeme) wrote2011-11-16 12:25 pm
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Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt. 4

Assassin's Creed Kink Meme pt.4


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Wrong Life, Wrong Body 4

(Anonymous) 2012-06-18 04:25 am (UTC)(link)
His head snapped to look when he heard Shaun come over, a cloth covering part of his arm with blood seeping through. He watched the man push his glasses up his nose before kneeling beside him so he could see him.

“Desmond, can you understand us?”

He nodded, feeling most of his upper body getting into it.

“Shaun, you’re bleeding—”

“Of course I am,” he hissed, glaring up at Lucy. “Birdbrain—” Desmond screamed. He did not need his smartass mouth right now. “—here decided to panic after Rebecca wondered aloud if we were going to dump him on a nature reserve.”

“Rebecca!”

“Hey! I had no idea! What are we going to do with him anyway?”

There was silence, and then Shaun slowly made to pick him up, and Desmond let him, adjusting himself in his arms.

“Well, first we’re getting out here. Then, we’re going over to meet William, who will probably be able to help us better than if we’re here. But before that, we’re stitching up my arm and getting me something so Desmond can sit on my arm.”

He watched as Shaun carried him out of the Vault, a little calmer in his arms and trying to keep his panic thoughts out. He could feel the man’s heartbeat when he tucked his beak under his wing, and when they got to the van, his father already there, he was almost asleep, exhausted from the panic attack. He felt that he should have been able to handle more, but he was just so damn tired, and all he wanted was a nap. His head was pounding from the swimming vision he had, and all his limbs felt so out of whack. He ruffled his feathers quite by instinct, glaring when he felt someone else’s hands on him and snapping at the large hands, and he screamed at his father. Shaun sighed, sitting in the back of the truck awkwardly and setting him down in his lap. He glared up at the man, then stood and adjusted himself, careful so he wouldn’t injure him further. He tucked his beak under his wing and promptly fell asleep.

When he woke up next, he was jostled awake, and he screeched mightily, hearing someone laugh at him and turning to scream at them, too.

“For God’s sake, Desmond, shut the fuck up!” he heard Shaun gripe.

He glared at him, noticing someone else on the other side of his vision field. He watched them carefully, keeping his beak closed, and noticed they were wearing a navy uniform. He blinked, tilting his head and chittering curiously. That was a US flag on his arm. The man was a Navyman. Desmond stood awkwardly and flapped his wings, still trying to get the hang of it and almost relieved when it all felt natural to him as he flapped to sit on the top of the truck, taking in his surroundings. He looked all around him, taking in the bustling sea port.

And then he spotted the wiggling crab in the open stand a ways off.
It was a little-known secret, but he loved sushi. He had always loved sushi, and it had been a treat for him back on the run, until he hit the coast and it became cheaper to get. It took a few tries before he was ripping into it and eating like a pro, but for the most part, it was all natural to him. Some part of him believed it was Altair’s lineage coming back to bite him in the ass.

Nevertheless, he took to the skies, flying the short distance to almost fall as he landed on the edge of the stand, watching the crabs squirming. He blinked, jerking and falling off when the owner picked it up. He almost screamed, but then the owner threw the crab onto the ground, and he straightened himself, cleaned his feathers, and then looked at the crab again. He stared at it, and awkwardly lifted a foot to pin it down. The crab snipped at his foot, and he ruffled his feathers, setting his foot down and looking at it. He could see every detail on the crab, and he tittered. He was so hungry.

He lifted a foot up again and flicked it with a talon, tittering again when it got all ruffled. He ruffled his own feathers and leaned in, lifting a foot to clamp down on the bigger claw before tearing into the crab. And holy fuck did that taste amazing. He finished it off quickly and threw the shell in the air and shaking it vigorously when he caught it again. He blinked at the person when he started to laugh. He tittered, fluffing himself and catching the next crab tossed to him, throwing it up into the air before ripping into it.

“Desmond!”

He looked, seeing, startlingly enough, Shaun, wandering through the crowds. It was apparent that he hadn’t been seen yet. He screeched, startling everyone around him, but caught Shaun’s attention. Shaun came walking over, and he fluffed himself again, not even realizing he was preening himself until he had already done so.

“Well, you seem to be taking to your new body well enough,” the man said, holding out a gloved hand.

Desmond tilted his head.

“For you to perch on, numbskull. Haven’t you ever heard of falconry?”

Desmond screamed, flapping his wings and stomping his feet like a child. He heard Shaun sigh.

“Just get on the damn glove. We’re catching a ride with the Navymen back to America.”

He paused and looked at Shaun, tilting his head. If only he had a pen or something, he could write messages. Nevertheless, he awkwardly shuffled onto the glove. When Shaun pulled out his Koosh ball, he nearly died, snapping at Shaun’s fingers for his toy and catching it when the man let go before he could grab it. He waved it around, fluttering his wings. He could hear Shaun chuckle.

“Well, I’m glad you’re happy again.”

He twittered, waving the Koosh ball around. He stopped when he heard someone laugh, and he could see the Navymen laughing, a whole group of them, and he wanted to scowl, wishing that he could. Still, he waved the Koosh ball, sticking his chest out and puffing himself up. This was his toy, and they couldn’t laugh at him.

“Oh, shut up, you uncultured Yanks. Desmond here is incredibly intelligent for an eagle. He would put you sailors to shame.”

Desmond blinked. Shaun was actually standing up for him. All he had to do was become an animal. How… terrible. He waved his Koosh ball around some more, twittering. This was his toy, and he was proud of it. This was his toy. He shook it at the soldiers and fluttered his wings.

“And now that you have a full belly, we should get going, Desmond.”

Desmond shook his head, stamping one foot on Shaun’s gloved hand. Then, when Lucy came over with a small package in his hand, he could smell the fish, and he shook his ball at her for not giving it to him. He twittered, causing Lucy to laugh at him as he shook his ball. She opened the package and held a hand out, and he pulled back when she reached for the Koosh ball. Shaun sighed and held out a hand, and he placed the ball in his hand. Lucy rolled her eyes, opened the package, and held out—

Holy Lord, that was salmon.

He screeched and snapped at it, swallowing it in two gulps. Oh, yeah, he could get used to the life of an eagle. He was totally ready to be an eagle. He didn’t care they were laughing since they didn’t get the food. And holy shit was it good food. He stomped his feet, rocking back and forth. Everyone was laughing at him—he was not that funny.

“Christ, you’d think you were a one-man circus, Desmond,” Shaun murmured. “Are we leaving yet?”

He nodded, excited. When they were on the boat and taking off, Desmond couldn’t help but take off into the skies, soaring above them and practicing his flight. It felt fantastic, he thought, to be able to fly, and even though he could still see the land, he was so much higher than anything he’d ever done. He could feel the air currents under his feathers, gliding over his talons and streamlining his body. Although he missed his human body, he could see why Altair had wanted to go back to being a bird so much.

He was already tired, from just a few minutes of flying. He would have to strengthen his muscles. Still, he decided to be daring, carefully maneuvering to the flagpole where the America flag was soaring. Desmond managed it, although precariously, one foot gripping either wing of the small eagle adornment atop the pole. Still, he was proud of himself. He preened his chest feathers, staring at the men below talking. They were pointing and cheering, laughing and talking, and he could see someone of high importance come walking out, barking orders. He chirped, fluttering his wings, which were still tired.

“Desmond!”

He looked to see Shaun at the far end of the boat, looking exasperated as he looked for him. He screeched, tittering merrily when he startled the officer. His friend came pacing over, looking furious.

“Desmond! Come down from there!”

He swayed slight, making a chirpy noise just to spite his pal. When Shaun waved his Koosh ball, he nose-dived. He snatched it from the man’s hands and landing on the edge of the boat. He shook his head vigorously, feeling the ball swishing. He stopped when he felt Shaun’s hand on him, the gloved hand dangling at his side. He fluttered his wings, tittering merrily. He stepped onto his glove when it was offered.

“Desmond…”

He blinked at him, staring, and let him carry him into a nice little room.

“They were kind enough to give you and I the room with the window so you can go in and out.”

He swore that he could hear sadness in Shaun’s voice. Looking around, he spotted a pen, and he fluttered over to it. Carefully picking it up, he spotted a piece of paper, and, slowly and steadily, managed to write, “What’s wrong?”

Shaun watched him the entire time, and when he finally finished, he ruffled his feathers. His friend smiled—smiled—and scratched his chin.

“Don’t worry about it, Desmond.”

Desmond ruffled his feathers again, causing Shaun to roll his eyes. Nevertheless, when Shaun fell asleep a short while later, he was happy to tuck his head under his wing and fall asleep by his head.

Of course, when the men got up the next day, Desmond woke with them at all the noise, waking to see the high-ranking officer stirring. He hopped over to the man and tugged on his pantleg. The man looked at him, and he tugged again. He loved Shaun and sleeping with Shaun, but he wanted to go out and catch himself something to eat. The officer raised an eyebrow, and he hopped over to Shaun’s glove and tried to grab it, hearing the officer chuckle quietly. When he picked it up, Desmond stepped on, watching eagerly as he was carried outside. The seas were calm, and he screeched and took off into the sky. He was going to try hunting.

It took him a while, but when he eventually found a fish, he dived. It ended in a splashy failure, and it took him almost an hour, but he eventually caught a small fish. He was proud of himself: he was catching on quickly. He flew back to the boat, utterly worn out and ready to eat his prize. It took him just a bite or two to eat the whole fish, but every mouthful was worth it, and the praise from the Navymen was making it even more worth it. He watched the men go about their daily duties, and he fluffed himself up when the officer came over and scratched his head.

“You know: you’re remarkably tame for an eagle.”

Desmond snapped his head to look at him, despite those fingers petting him. He blinked, watching him.

“You know what I’m saying, don’t you?”

Desmond nodded as best he could, snipping at the fingers when they stopped petting him. The officer laughed.

“Those friends of yours aren’t used to early mornings—”

Desmond shook his head vigorously, fluttering his wings.

“They are?”

He nodded.

“I must look crazy speaking with you, and even more so with you responding. Your trainers taught you well.”

He screeched and stomped his foot. Shaun was definitely not his trainer. Hell no. Then, as if to prove his point, he decided it would be better to go fishing again, and he could suck up his tiredness and just deal because he wasn’t going to stand for a backhanded insult. He flew over the sea, hunting for a fish.

----------------
I'm alive. I promise. But just barely.

Re: Wrong Life, Wrong Body 4

(Anonymous) 2012-06-18 11:49 pm (UTC)(link)
Aaaaah, you updated!! This was such a pleasant surprise!

And Desmond is a BIRD!!! :D I could not stop laughing at the fact he's suddenly a bird and he's doing bird things and...man, he's gonna be conflicted between humanness and birdness, given how he seems to be thinking here.

....Oh gaah, how is William gonna react? I cannot wait to see!!

Re: Wrong Life, Wrong Body 4

(Anonymous) 2012-06-19 01:09 am (UTC)(link)
SQUEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You updated!!!

8D

And Dessie's a bird! That is so awesome!!!

XD
halberdier: (Default)

Re: Wrong Life, Wrong Body 4

[personal profile] halberdier 2012-06-23 05:32 pm (UTC)(link)
Des is birded! And KOOSH BALL! Oh my God how long has it been since Koosh balls??? ANd SHAUN! And SHAUN'S DREAMS!

Have ALL my love for writing this. Glad to see you're still with us, and continuing this!

Wrong Life, Wrong Body 5

(Anonymous) 2012-08-04 04:48 pm (UTC)(link)
He eventually returned to Shaun’s side with a fish, fluttering his wings as he ripped it apart and finished it quickly. Shaun sighed, rolling his eyes as he looked at him.

“I heard the big man thinks you don’t like him.”

Desmond glared at the man as best he could.

“I also heard he called us your trainers.”

Desmond screeched, and Shaun laughed. He watched as Lucy and Rebecca came walking over. Lucy was smiling warmly, and he chirped merrily, ruffling his feathers as she stroked his feathers softly. Rebecca was grinning like a fool.

“You know, that’s really cool, Des. I bet we could make a ton of money off you before you get turned back.”

Desmond tilted his head, and Lucy sighed as Rebecca leaned on the railing. When Lucy stopped stroking him, he reached out with a foot and grabbed her wrist gently with his talons, tugging it back and lowering his head to put his head in her palm. Shaun and Lucy snorted, and Rebecca laughed. Still, Lucy started stroking him again, so everything was well with his world. The tech started going on and on about charging to see all of his “cool tricks,” which would actually just be things he learned as a human that didn’t disappear when he transformed. About halfway through, Desmond shook his head, causing Lucy to stop stroking him. He didn’t feel right. He would have wrinkled his nose, but there was no nose for him to wrinkle. So he settled for ruffling his feathers and adjusting his grip on the railings.

He could feel something like bile rising in the back of his throat, but it certainly didn’t feel like vomit. He didn’t feel sick. His stomach didn’t hurt. He hacked once, then again. Then, just in case, he turned around to face the ocean and hacked again. He could feel something coming up, but he didn’t know what it was. He hacked again, shaking his head as he did, and he straightened, feeling much better. He had felt something come out, and he looked to see a small pellet splash into the ocean. He turned back around and fluffed his feathers again. There. Now everything was right.

“Desmond?”

He looked at Lucy, who looked mildly worried, and Shaun, who looked surprised. Rebecca was silent. An uneasy silence fell over the group until he saw Shaun’s face turn into one of recognition.

“He was casting a pellet. He’s not sick. Birds of prey regurgitate the non-digestible parts of their food, such as scales or bones. Quite clearly, that was Desmond’s first pellet.”

Desmond would have smiled, wished he could smile, but settled on swaying slightly in the cool breeze. He watched as Lucy produced that colorful rope Shaun had bought back at Monteriggioni, and he straightened.

“Well, that caught his attention.”

He snapped at the rope and caught it in his beak, and Lucy chuckled. When she tugged on it, Desmond stomped his feet and tugged back. He could see Lucy smiling as she applied a constant pressure, and he leaned back, trying to match her. He was much weaker as a bird, apparently. He couldn’t get a good grip on metal rails, and he was still adjusting—and he couldn’t discount the fact that Lucy was now three times as big as him. Still, he mused as he continued to try to pull it from her, this was probably the most fun he had ever had with a game of tug-of-war. He pulled and pulled, and he even beat his wings in hopes it would help.

Of course, he lost when Rebecca started petting him. The cheaters had probably planned that. It was also then he realized that the Navy men were laughing at the spectacle, especially when Rebecca tried to stop petting him, and he grabbed her hand with his talons, screeching at her.

“You set yourself up for that, Rebecca,” Shaun muttered. “And we don’t have to feed him, so you’re stuck petting.”

“Not fair!”

“Completely fair,” Lucy said. “You cheated in the tug-of-war.”

Desmond twittered when she scratched under his chin. Yeah, the life of an eagle, he could get used to it. Still, he spent the rest of the day on Lucy’s arm, occasionally cuddling her when he rested his head on her shoulder, and she would stroke his feet, talking to him quietly, apologizing for what happened and promising to get him back to normal. It was reassuring to hear that he was wanted as a human, and he couldn’t help but rub his beak against her collarbone to thank her. He could see the Navy men snapping shots of the two cuddling with their phones, and he wondered if the others knew about it. So that night, when he had Lucy sleeping with him this time, he picked up a pen and scrawled “pictures?” on a sheet of paper. She seemed upset, and she told him that she would ask tomorrow for them to stop so they wouldn’t get caught. She settled down in the bed that Shaun had slept in before, and he curled up beside her head, petting her hair with his beak in an attempt to calm her.

The next morning, he woke with the officer again, or whatever his position was, and sat proudly on his glove as he was carried out. He watched the men, perched on the arm, until he could feel himself get hungry, and he took to the skies, catching himself a much larger fish compared to yesterday. He landed near Shaun, who was up, and he finished the fish quickly, twittering merrily as he was petted. The day passed slowly, and he could feel something coming. All he wanted to do was bunker down and prepare for it, and at the end of the day, he found himself asleep with all four of them in the cramped quarters below deck, warned of a storm coming.

He slept through part of it, in the early morning hours, shaking himself when he woke up. He could feel it rocking, feel the storm around them, and he hunkered down, fluffing himself up as he prepared to sleep through the day.

Until one of the crew members found a mouse.

And then he got to eat lunch.

Nevertheless, Lucy still brought him pieces of meat, and he scarfed those down, vomiting up a pellet into some unsuspecting Navy man’s shoe. He was eventually lured from his wonderful, little, curled-up featherball to play with the Koosh ball and tug-of-war with the men. He was stroked, petted, and played with to the point he fell asleep early that night after helping Shaun play poker with a few of the men, who all were absolutely flabbergasted that they were beaten, more or less, by an eagle. One of the men had recorded it, laughing the whole time, and someone had even thrown in a shiny new pin for one thing or another and a small stuffed dog that had been picked up as a souvenir with a few other stuffed animals for a child at one point, which Desmond stole to put with his toys. He was swaying, his chest puffed out as he tittered at the losing men. He has always been good at poker, especially when playing it with people on his breaks at the bar. That night, he curled up next to Shaun’s head, utterly pooped, with his new doggie under his wing and his other three toys tucked into bed with him.

The storm had passed by morning, and Desmond woke with Shaun’s face pressed against his other wing, and his head tucked against his shoulder. The stuffed doggie was still under his wing, and he could feel the man’s breath against his feathers. He was happy.

“Bad birdie… sleeping with… another person,” he heard mumbled, and he tittered softly in response.

“Of course you’re sorry. You’re mine.”

Desmond smacked him with the side of his beak.

“Don’t you dare hit me, you cheating, dreamy-eyed, lost, little eaglet!”

Desmond tittered again, and Shaun harrumphed.

“I should sic the heffalumps and woozles on you.”

He blinked. Those were Winnie-the-Pooh if he wasn’t mistaken.

“And you can forget about the present I bought you, cheating on me and all.”

Desmond looked at him, watched him mumble.

“But I suppose that you do still feel the urge to mate, after all. You are an eagle.”

Desmond petted his ear with his beak.

“Very well, I forgive you. I’m sorry for my outburst. I was just so afraid the snaggle-toothed callilopers had gotten you when those blasted deermen escaped.”

Desmond wished he could smile. He wished he could smile so badly. He did enjoy Shaun’s talking.

“I’m sorry, eagle 17-M. Just promise me you’ll be my birdie, and you’ll let me know where you go running off to.”

Desmond twittered quietly, rubbing his head against Shaun’s cheek and ear.

“You’re such a good birdie. Such a good birdie. Such a wonderful, beautiful eaglet 17-M. And no one else in the world gets gifts as awesome as I do. No one else deserves such wonderful things.”

Desmond fluttered his free wing, nestling down again and waiting for him to wake up. The officer-person wasn’t there, and the other men were already up and about, out doing things, so he was stuck here until either Shaun or one of the girls woke. Finally, however, Shaun woke, and he screamed at him until he was up and going, carrying him outside so he could go fishing. When he had finally had his fill, he set about grooming himself, hearing Shaun yawn mightily.

“Christ, to think I had plans of going back to bed.”

Desmond ignored the glare he could feel being sent his way as he continued. He had to keep himself well groomed, and the fish at the surface were more varied today from the rain. He was going to get another in a little bit.

“Was I sleep-talking? I think I was.”

Desmond paused in his grooming to nod, but then returned to his previous business. No point in stopping until he was done completely. He took his time, smelling the coffee Lucy brought his friend. As Shaun sipped the drink, Lucy leaned on the railing and waited until Desmond was done grooming to pet his head. He tittered quietly.

“You are hellishly loud,” she said, yawning. “What got you all worked up this morning?”

“He wanted to hunt,” Shaun griped. “The fatarse has eaten probably two hundred grams of fish—”

Desmond screamed at him. He had been hungry, and he hadn’t eaten much yesterday. Lucy chuckled, scratching his head to calm him down. He twittered happily, immediately soothed.

“Whatever, I’m sure he’s eating a healthy amount. He has to eat to keep up with the amount of calories he’s burning by flying.”

“Yes, but what when we stop in Manhattan?”

“We’ll get him a radio collar. I’m sure he’ll raise hell if we don’t.”

Desmond nodded. They weren’t going to keep him from flying now that he could. He stayed there, watching the men mill about and occasionally going over the ocean just to fly and feel the wind under his wings until about noon, when he saw a Navy man approaching. But it wasn’t the Navyman that caught his attention.

No, it was the rattle.

And he wanted it.

“Do you think he’d like it?” the man said as he approached.

“Why on earth do you have a rattle?” Shaun snipped as the Navy man held up the rattle.

“It’s a long story. Do you think—”

Desmond beat his wings hard enough to give himself the lift to close the final few inches and snatched the rattle from his hand, landing on the railing again and shaking vigorously to hear the noise. He screamed around it merrily, shaking his head and stomping his feet as he listened to the rattle. He screeched again, fluttering his wings.

This was Heaven.

He had a new toy.

He loved Navy men.

He kept dancing and shaking the rattle, grooving to music in his head. This was going to be a blast. He loved being an eagle. Everything was so much more fun. He squawked and screeched, grooved and fluttered to his own beat. He really could get used to something like this, if it meant that every toy was more fun and that he could fly. He knew that Altair would agree with him. He could hear the Navy men gathering around, even the big man joining in, and he fluttered his wings, giving his head one final shake before he was done dancing for a while.

He blinked, pulling his head back when Lucy went to grab the rattle. She raised an eyebrow, but let him hold onto his toy as the Navy men scratched and petted him. This was certainly a good life, he mused, and perhaps he shouldn’t be so eager to actually be returned to his human state.

He fluffed himself after Shaun took the rattle from him, and he settled into a good routine after that. He woke up with Shaun, went fishing, returned to Shaun, maybe entertained the Navy men, cuddled with Shaun or Lucy for the rest of the day, maybe entertained the Navy men again, went fishing, then fell asleep with Shaun or Lucy. It was an excellent life. Of course, it got boring extremely quickly, but Shaun always surprised him with some sort of puzzle or game on the ship to keep him entertained, just like back at Monteriggioni. Shaun was a genius in his book. He didn’t know where he got the toys, but they were fun. Everything was more fun now that he was an eagle

And eventually, as he went flying one morning, he could see in the distance a dark streak on the horizon, perhaps land. It was jagged and ugly, marring the beautiful sea line. He frowned internally, beating his wings to catch a wind current. He soared closer, eventually realizing that it was Manhattan’s skyline he was looking at. Now he felt dumb for criticizing the marring black streak. With a snort, he turned around and flew back.
Shaun was waiting for him, a frown on his lips as he searched the skyline. Desmond screeched, landing remarkably gracefully on his arm. He twittered when he felt Shaun scratching his chin.

“No fish?”

Desmond ruffled his feathers, earning a snort from the man.

“No fish it is, then.”

Shortly after, they were docked and leaving, Rebecca and Lucy unloading the Animus into a truck while Shaun struggled to keep him down.

He hated this city. He wanted to fly back out over the ocean and catch himself a fish, hardly sated when Shaun managed to produce a bit of dried salmon from nowhere. He wanted out of the city. Of course, he wanted the gentle rocking of the sea, a place to build his nest, and somewhere that wasn’t so loud. He kept trying to fly away, held firmly in place by Shaun’s arm clamping his wings to his side. Finally, he gave up, pressing his head into Shaun’s armpit and letting that muffle the noise. He could feel gentle fingers stroking his back.

“It’ll be okay, Desmond. We just have to wait until we’re stationed.”

Desmond ruffled his feathers, feeling the vibrations in the man’s chest as he spoke. He was content to stay like that forever, pressed against Shaun and everything wonderfully muttered, until he heard a baby start crying, rudely woken from its nap, probably. He pulled his head back and looked around, spying a carriage a ways off. Without warning, he beat his wings, and startled the seamen out of his way before landing on the tray of the baby’s carriage. The baby was startled from its crying, blinking at him as he tilted his head and blinked back. He ignored the mother’s panic as the baby smiled and reached out for him. Desmond fluttered his wings, stretching them out cautiously as the baby watched in wonder, and he wrapped the baby in his wings as best he could, rubbing his head against its cheek and tittering softly.

The baby shrieked merrily, startling him enough to fall off the carriage, and as he straightened up and took off, he could hear it clapping and babbling. He landed on Shaun’s arm as the baby started crying again and guided the man over. The baby stopped crying when it saw him again, and he ruffled his feathers. It reached out for him, and he ignored Shaun’s warning as he hopped onto the tray. He squawked when he was pulled into a baby hug, almost losing his balance on the tray before he wrapped his wings around the child again and rubbed his head against its cheek. The hug was almost a stranglehold, but Desmond didn’t mind, feeling, for all the world, ecstatic about being able to receive a hug without being crushed because of his smaller stature.

Oh, my. I'm sorry I took so long. I'm quickly realizing I don't have an ending for this particular story... and one doesn't seem to want to happen either. I'm terribly sorry for being so slow to update.

Re: Wrong Life, Wrong Body 5

(Anonymous) 2012-08-07 07:58 pm (UTC)(link)
ADJFKD you updated, and it's okay that you're taking your time! The ending will come eventually. :D I am just loving Desmond being an eagle. He's somehow the best eagle ever and the worst eagle ever...like if an eagle and a canary somehow were able to spawn, it'd be Desmond.


And aww, Shaun, you're so possessive in your sleep. This was awesome!! :D Totally can't wait to see more, whenever it comes.

Re: Wrong Life, Wrong Body 5

(Anonymous) 2012-08-07 09:39 pm (UTC)(link)
:D
:D
:D

You updated! Yay!

Des is so spoiled! I wonder what's gonna happen he he's human again? :?

(Captcha asks what's the biggest number in the set. Who doesn't lose their head to the gutter when they see "69" XD )

Re: Wrong Life, Wrong Body 5

(Anonymous) 2012-08-22 11:33 pm (UTC)(link)
ASDFGHJKLASDFGHJK!

YESSSSSS!

I love this story so very much, I've been scrolling back to this page so often, just in case :-)

Desmond is a great eagle, and I love how Shaun seems to get what he's thinking most of the time. And Shaun's possessive sleeptalking is the cutest thing ever.

And Rebecca cheating in a tug-of-war! That just made me laugh out loud. She totally would, too :-)

I hope you keep going with this story, Anon, even if it takes a while to figure out where it's going, the journey is a good one.

Re: Wrong Life, Wrong Body 5

(Anonymous) 2012-11-26 01:13 pm (UTC)(link)
This is the funniest, goddamn craziest fic I've ever read. :DDD Doesn't need an ending (though I'm sure people are hoping for updates). I got serious laughs out of him first treating it as a crisis, then becoming a spoiled little pet. And I *bet* Desmond loves Navy men, haha.

Shaun sleep-talking like a loon is my new headcanon.

Re: Wrong Life, Wrong Body 5

(Anonymous) 2013-05-31 08:10 pm (UTC)(link)
I MUST HAVE MORE I CANT WAIT MUCH LONGER