asscreedkinkmeme (
asscreedkinkmeme) wrote2011-11-16 12:25 pm
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Entry tags:
Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt. 4
Assassin's Creed Kink Meme pt.4
Welcome to Constantinople
‡ Comment anonymously with a character/pairing and a kink/prompt.
‡ Comment is filled by another anonymous with fanfiction/art/or any other appropriate medium.
‡ One request per post, but fill the request as much as you want.
‡ The fill/request doesn't necessarily need to be smut.
‡ Don't flame, if you have nothing good to say, don't say anything.
‡ Have a question? Feel free to PM me.
‡ Last, but not least: HAVE FUN!
List of Kinks
Kink Meme Masterlist
New Kink Meme Masterlist
(Livejorunal) Archive
(Delicious.com) Archive
#2 (Livejournal) Archive
#2 (Delicious.com) Archive
(Dreamwidth) Archive <- Currently active
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 5
Fills Only
Discussion
Wrong Life, Wrong Body 5
(Anonymous) 2012-08-04 04:48 pm (UTC)(link)“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)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
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)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)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)