asscreedkinkmeme | Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt. 6

Entry tags:

assassin's creed

Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt. 6

Assassin's Creed Kink Meme pt.6
Open

Sky World

≈ 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
#3 (Delicious.com) Archive <-- Currently active
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Fills Only
Discussion

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Desmond gulped. "Um, listen, I'm really tired, what with all the time traveling and you almost shanking me and me setting my hand on fire. And it's a really, really long story and it'll probably piss you off a lot." He determinedly closed his eyes.

"Were you being tortured in that chair?"

"You could call it that. Haytham, I'm really tired--"

"The people torturing you, putting you in that, that machine. Were they Templars? Or assassins?"

"Both, actually."

"Ah." A pause. "How typical." The words were barely audible, so loaded with loathing that Desmond felt sick--the pain in every careful inflection overwhelmed him so. "Well, sleep well, lad. You're safe now." And just like that, Haytham's voice was gentle again.

Desmond kept his eyes shut--he had no hope of figuring out how to get out of this situation, this whole century, if he had to invent his story on the fly, trying to keep out of whatever dungeons they threw crazy people in during the American Revolution. Obviously the greatest threat to him right now was Connor, who didn't want to give him the benefit of any doubt--

Was Haytham fucking Kenway actually tucking him in??

And despite his best efforts to stay awake and plan, he fell asleep immediately.

d'aww!!!

hush now des, just let grandpa take care of you.

Oh, Desmond, you and your snark. How I love it. :D

-OP

Rebecca cheerily called out, "I made the donuts!" as she entered the cave, bearing a tray with two cups of coffee confectionery in one hand, and an orange and white box in the other. "Hey Shaun, I have this great idea for all the powdered sugar left over in the corners, we can put it all around Desmond's nose and take pics, and then upload them to his facebook. Whoa, why the long face? I got your Bavarian Creme."

Shaun glowered at her from the computer chair. "Rebecca, check the Animus. We're not going to be pranking Desmond anytime soon. Unless we can find him." Sure enough, the chair was empty, the light dark, the screen dead.

"Well, where is he? What happened? You were here, did he get up and run off?"

"I, ah... was taking care of personal business, and the lights flashed, so I ran out of the bathroom." He pointed to the Animus. "It sparked and I could see glitches, but erm... by the time I pulled up my trousers to run over there, it looked like a massive static discharge, and he... vanished."

"Vanished. As in, he was here and then he wasn't here."

"Yes, as implied by the term vanished."

Rebecca began nervously chewing at the cuticle of her thumbnail. "What was he doing?"

Shaun shrugged helplessly. "Sailing. Connor had an argument with his father and then was watching dolphins. I've seen enough Flipper for one lifetime, and he wasn't fighting or anything, and I think we should throw out the rest of the leftover vindaloo from the other day, incidentally. So I thought he could hold out... of course, if you had been here... "

"Oh, don't blame this on me, Mister I've Got This Embarrassing Craving For American Junk Food Please Don't Tell Desmond. I thought you could keep your pants on for twenty minutes."

The Animus rebooted itself. POST, BIOS, OS. Rebecca watched it in silence, until a status message appeared.

         HASSHASHIN

"What... "

     DEZMND SAFE

"Is the Animus talking to us...?"

       NO
       EGLE

"Uh..."

        ALTR

Rebecca and Shaun frowned at each other. "Either it's got some kind of code that I didn't code, or it's spelling things really badly, which I also didn't code," Rebecca said slowly.

     LOK MEMRY

"Who taught you to spell?" Shaun groused as Rebecca began downloading both a memory dump and the video playback immediately prior to the shutdown.

      NO ON

"That's obvious."

      ANGLSH
      NO MINE TUNG

"Who taught you English anyway?"

      MINE WYF

"Hey Rebecca, do you think Frau Berliner-Mauer could have gotten in here and married the Animus?"

"What the shit are you babbling about, Shaun?"

"It's telling me that its wife taught it bad English."

Rebecca peered over Shaun's shoulder. "It looks like it learned to spell from like the Canterbury Tales. Or Robin Hood."

     !!!

"Fan of Robin Hood?"

       WNTED TO TLK HIM
       TAL HIM BE HSSN

Rebecca shook her head. "No idea what you're saying, Baby. Okay, look. Right here..." She played a video clip of Desmond as Connor steering the Aquila. "Pretty boring. But see here, it starts to go hazy. Like he's desynchronizing."

   RBN NVR WRIGT BK

"But he didn't do anything to make himself desynchronize. And he's done this memory fine, it was just to help him with the other one."

    MYHP RBN CNOT RD

"Or maybe he just couldn't read the way YOU write."

     THS RLY DIFFCLT

"Stop, already. Now look, the viewpoint moves away from Connor and goes down the stairs."

       RTNHKETON

"Yeah, we can't say his name, but you can't spell, so shut it."

"Shaun, I swear there's no vowel shortage in the Animus. So you see, it goes to Haytham, and it finally gets into focus now."

"Well, he can't be reliving Haytham's memory, that's impossible now."

   EGLE
   EGLE
   egle

"Ugh, seriously Haytham, close your mouth when you sleep."

"Maybe he's got a deviated septum."

"You're just sticking up for him because he's British."

"I am not 'sticking up' for a Templar just because he's British! I'm just saying, maybe he can't help drooling in his sleep."

       THMSPSLNR

"I have no idea what you're even trying to say, strange little computer."

"So then it zooms in on the Piece of Eden, then it glitches, and then the Animus crashed."

     DEZMND SAFE

"So you say."

     SO I KNOWE

"You know, your spelling is really annoying."

     SO BE THY FACE

"Did you just... sass me??"

     COM ATT ME BRO

"That is so not Canterbury Tales."

     NOT DEAFE

"Okay, Shaun, please, stop yelling at the Animus. There was some kind of power surge right then."

   EDEN DREW DEZMND BACK
   SAFE
   RTNHKETON
   YUNGE EGLE
   SAFE

"He's safe... with Connor?"

"Oh, goody. He's on a wooden ship in the middle of the ocean, with an Assassin and a Templar who need massive amounts of family therapy. Who knows what sort of diseases are going around? You know he's too young to have been vaccinated for smallpox. Plus, this is Desmond, what's he going to do without cellphone reception?"

"Shut up, Shaun. How could he even get to Connor's time?"

    PIEC OF EDEN

"And what exactly are you, because I'm pretty sure you're not actually the Animus."

    CAV

"...And I'm also pretty sure you're not some kind of geological formation, either."

"No, Rebecca, he didn't mean cave, he meant cavy. As in a guinea pig."

    PG???

"You know, squeaky little rodent?"

    NO?

"Ah, forget it."

"Why are you calling my Animus 'he' anyway?"

"For one thing, I thought we established that this isn't the Animus talking back to us. And for another, he mentioned his wife."

"So? This is New York, this is 2012, a woman can marry another woman if she wants."

     YEA
     WMN CN VRAI STRNG
     AND TOUGHE

"With spelling like that, we're not talking to a modern woman from New York."

     NIL
     TRUY
     EVTHNG
     PRMTE

The lights around the walls strobed.

"That wasn't creepy at all."

Altair?! That was Altair, right? Dear god, that conversation nearly killed me! Honestly, it's a little hard to breathe right now.

-OP

*gives you an inhaler*

I'm honestly not trying to assassinate anyone here, I just think Altair couldn't put up with Shaun!

I'm fuckin choking this is gold okay and if anybody tells you different they're lying. Especially the bit where Altair gets snippy at Shaun. Is the spelling a nod to how written Arabic has almost all vowels removed? I can't wait for the next part!

*smirk*

So I figure, he learned a decent amount of English from Maria, some of it rude and/or dirty, but in those days English spelling was basically exactly how the words were pronounced, not all fossilized and standardized the way it is now. So when Altair goes to write something in English, he has to first translate it in his head, then figure out how to write it in this wacky left to right alphabet. So unless he remembers that something has a weird spelling, he spells it like it's Arabic: phonetically, minus vowels.

Especially since the vowels he hears the modern assassins saying are not the vowels he learned from Maria.

Haytham's spelling, too, should have been more irregular, but I didn't have any points of reference available when I was writing, for how an upper middle class, fairly intellectual Brit of that time period would spell. A well educated Syrian cult leader from the Third Crusade who married an English woman and wound up in a computer in a cave in 2012, listening to three twentysomethings bicker, insult each other, and illegally download The Walking Dead? Yeah I can just make up how that dude spells.

Another language related headcanon that I have, that might or might not make it into the story:

Haytham has basically a travel-guide level ability to speak Arabic. Important phrases, you know, like:

Which way to Damascus?
How much for the hummus?
You are overcharging me for this moldy hummus.
I know you're only doing it because I'm English.
Your beer tastes like camel urine.
Keep your hands off my sister.
I told you to keep your hands off my sister.
You got what you deserved, creep.
Stop calling me a pothead.
I swear I'm not a pothead.
Why do you insist I'm a pothead?
Where do they make the eunuchs?

You know... The essential phrases.

donuts! facebook! robin hood!! fuckin' com att me bro!!!

*iz ded*

NEW HEADCANON

MAID MARIAN GOT TIRED OF HANGING OUT IN THE FOREST

DROPPED THE LAST LETTER OF HER NAME

FOUND ANOTHER DUDE NAMED ROB

AND DECIDED TO JOIN THE CRUSADES

JUST SAYIN

THE CHRONOLOGY WORKS

This is just...gold. Friggin' gold, I swear!

*blushes*

For once, Desmond dreamed his own dream, remembered his own life. He knew it was his memory because of the television (for dvds only, of course; cable was part of the Templar Plot). He had waited until his parents stopped yelling and turned off the hallway light. Then he'd given them a good two hours to get to sleep, and another to be sure.

Earlier that day, he'd prepared: Janie's older sister had just made full Assassin, made her own untraceable credit cards, and was allowed to go on missions by herself. She was both well-positioned and well-disposed to acquire the contraband the younger kids craved, and through an elaborate barter system, Desmond was able to trade three shiny pencils, a Lisa Frank notebook, and a week of sweeping Janie's house for a Star Wars DVD, a bag of Twizzlers, and a graphic novel that Janie swore would break his mind.

Desmond had hidden the DVD in his math textbook, and squeezed the candy and comic book into his secret hiding place inside the couch cushion, which he had partially hollowed out for just that purpose. It promised to be a great night of sugar, pop culture, and just being a kid.

Unfortunately, he forgot about the third creaky step (what normal kid had parents that purposefully loosened the floorboards in case of intruders? And who would want to sneak into their house anyway?) and Desmond could have groaned with frustration to see his father look up at him from the couch.

William Miles was wearing sweatpants and a tank top, which Desmond was perfectly aware wasn't his normal sleeping attire. His pillow was at one end of the couch, along with a shabby fleece blanket. Desmond clenched his fists with frustration. His perfect night, ruined by whatever they had been fighting about.

"Des, son? You couldn't sleep either?"

It was best to play along. "Yeah, I kept trying to sleep. I think maybe I need a drink of water." He went to the fridge to pour himself a glass from the jug. Even if they'd been close enough to get city water, the Farm didn't approve of fluoridation. Boiling the water from the slightly untrustworthy well was near the bottom of Desmond's list of favorite chores.

After rewashing his glass, Desmond padded back through the living room. His father was looking rather wistful. "Come here and sit with me, son."

Desmond would really rather have snuck upstairs to listen to rap on his discman (more contraband, both disc and player) since his original plans were shot, but it was best not to argue.

"Were you having more nightmares like you used to?"

"No, Dad, honest. I just wasn't sleepy." He betrayed himself by yawning. "What I mean is, I lie down but I'm just thinking so much I can't sleep."

"Thinking about what?"

How much I want to get out of this crazy place. "Just, you know, stuff."

"Fire?"

"Not anymore. Just stuff. Kid stuff, I guess."

William nodded, and to Desmond's embarrassment, he found he was leaning on his father's pillow. It smelled comforting, like a pillow should. Like a father should. William chuckled. "How about you lie down here? Count some sheep or something."

Desmond stifled a yawn. "Every time I count sheep, I end up wanting to run away and be a pirate."

"A pirate? Why?"

"'Sgotta be better than counting sheep all the time." He snuggled down into the pillow, and his father tucked him in tenderly, then covered Desmond with his coat. It smelled so, so comforting: a little sweaty, a little spicy, a little soapy, faintly bloody, but mostly fatherly. Now perfectly content, Desmond was out like a light.

Except it had never happened that way, Desmond realized as he slowly regained consciousness. He had shivered under the ratty blanket that smelled like feet, while his father awkwardly sat at the other end of the couch reading work stuff. There had been no concerned conversation about his sleep patterns, just the irritable order of "Count sheep or something, Desmond, just please go to sleep already." And he had never ever mentioned the pirate thing.

Desmond had barely slept that night, and he had never again even pretended to seek comfort from William. This whole dream had been wishful thinking, so real, so perfect, so much like what a dad should be that he could still smell it even though he was almost completely awake now. He resisted opening his eyes, concentrating on remembering how it smelled in his dreams to have a dad, not just a father. A tear trickled from each eye. Oh, that was just silly. Here he was, a grown man, a bartender and an Assassin, sniffling over a silly dream. He wiped his nose on the thick, embroidered wool fabric of his blanket--

No, not his blanket.

Haytham was so going to shank him, for real this time, for snotting up his jacket.

You're terrible. Really, you are. There I was, all 'Aw, sweet Assassin family moment,' which then turned into 'Damn you William!' and then...snot?

Sigh. You and your bodily fluids...

-OP

Maybe I have a deviated septum and can't help it...

(I SHOULDN'T have a deviated septum anymore after the way they broke it and moved it and it hurt to talk for several months, but you know.)

*snicker* snot jacket.

okay, after that dream, I really want to see Haytham taking care of Desmond.

I mean, guys have mother hen urges too, right? And after not getting to raise his own son, that guy probably has some seriously repressed urges just waiting for an outlet.

Could you start changing the subject lines, please? It's getting confusing, trying to keep track of where all the story bits are.

My bad!

I'm going to go back and repost from the beginning with nice user friendly subjects, now that I actually thought of a title.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt. 6

Re: Teaser!

Re: Teaser!

Re: Teaser!

Re: Teaser!

Re: Teaser!

Re: Teaser!

Re: Teaser!

Re: Teaser!

Re: Teaser!

Re: Teaser!

Re: Teaser!

Re: Teaser!

Re: Teaser!

Re: Teaser!

Re: Teaser!

Re: Teaser!

Re: Teaser!

Re: Teaser!

Re: Teaser!

Re: Teaser!