asscreedkinkmeme | Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt.2

So here's my train of thought:

Recently been playing Brotherhood, nonstop, for hours on end. So I was super happy when I realized you could run around outside the Animus whenever you want. And then I got pretty curious. Even at night, you'd think there'd be at least someone outside, right? And then, for some reason, I immediately thought: The only person I'd want Desmond to meet while he was there would be Ezio.

Of course, the only way that could EVER happen is if Ezio became immortal via a Piece of Eden. Which would sorta make sense.

So I would like Desmond to be running around the city, stretching his legs, and stumble across Ezio dressed in normal clothes (but with his hood up and some other sort of disguise so Des doesn't recognize him at first), sitting on the roof of the Villa, very calmly watching the night sky. They sit, they chat, they become good friends, and dawn approaches. So Lucy screams in Desmond's earpiece to get his butt back to the Sanctuary, and Desmond has to go. Ezio (who he still doesn't know is Ezio) says it's all right, he had to go too, then removes his hood, grins, and says, "Good luck, Desmond. Minerva's got one hell of a plan for you."

Then leap-of-faith's outta there.

Leaving a very thoroughly confused Des.

Sorry it's so detailed, but I absolutely suck at writing, and would love to see this filled. Whoever does will get a drawing of their choice from me. Please, I just really wanna see this happen. ;n;

That right there? Is absolutely FASCINATING. If only because I'm a sucker for "Altair/Ezio is still alive due to the Piece of Eden" stories, because obviously, they're both WAY too awesome to die like mere mortals.

Anyway, it sucks I'm so damned busy with work, as I'd get on that in a heartbeat...

OK i am snagging and filling this, can't wait any longer!

Captcha: manncest been

O.O

Mmm

Desmond's gonna fall off the roof when he sees Ezio. XD

And get a concussion and forget that it ever happened?

Fffff.

On a different note, I was running around Monterriggioni (again) and feeling strangely nostalgic. Running around in eagle vision made me sad- there were too many artificial lights messing with my vision, and cars, and modern things, and it all made me feel like something was incredibly wrong.
And then I realized that this is now, and in reality you're never going back to Ezio's time, to that beautiful countryside untouched by modern technology, and that Ezio is dead and gone and never going to come back and Desmond will never get to see him face to face and by the end of my revelation I was sobbing all over my controller.

Stupid reaction, I know, but I was really seeing things from Desmond's point of view.

This. I find the idea of Desmond & co. being in Monteriggioni to be extremely sad. I would have been sobbing right along with you, anon.

Some of my favorite fics in this fandom address that sense of loss that Desmond might feel after experiencing the bleeding effect--remembering how someone SOUNDED or some minor gesture or a conversation or something, and then realizing that it's stuff that happened 500 or 800 years ago.

...brb. Going off to sniffle somewhere and hug a stuffed animal or something.

Hugging stuffed animals seems to help. I had this massive teddy bear in a head lock while I was sobbing my eyes out.

Just had to reply to this - I was exactly the same! It was really just a sad feeling when I got control of Desmond first, then when I first saw the hallucination of Ezio helping Desmond my eyes watered.

The final straw, though, was when Desmond commented on how old Ezio looked that last time he returned.

Spoiler! - Will also admit to whining like a puppy when Ezio walked out of the Colosseo at the end.

Want OP to know I'm thinking about this, but won't tag it just yet - I made that mistake with two other posts I've yet to fill.

If you can stand waiting a day or so for me to finish college exams and a bit more for me to actually write it, I would fill this. In the meantime if you have anything else you'd like me to try to fit in go ahead and ask.

:D;;

Wait a day or so? Anon, I would wait a month if it meant someone would fill this. Please, please do so. <3

Could you please put in some Desmond-angst? Nostalgia, loss, just being really sad and Ezio not knowing why but knowing something's up and comforting him a bit? I would love you forever.

Fffffff- want to fill this so hard. Other prompts and.... ffffff-
It's on my list, saying that now cause writeanon wants this.

Desmond was glad to finally get out of the Animus. His entire body was sore from relaxing all day. His muscles screamed for activity as he pointedly ignored both Shaun and Lucy as they reminded him to be back before morning and not to get killed in some horrible and stupid way (that had just been Shaun actually, in as sarcastic a tone as he could manage).

His entire body itched to climb as he left the safe house and went to find someplace where there were plenty of hand and foot holds, thankful that his earpiece was silent. He finally managed to find an old four story building and while it was no where near as tall as the one he’d climbed not an hour ago in Ezio’s body, it would do and effortlessly he scaled the wall his muscles and joints and bones sighing in total relief as they finally got to put into motion.

Panting slightly (he may have the skills but he had no where near the wind) he sat on the edge of the building for a few minutes looking out into the clear Italian night sky. He didn’t feel tired at all, though he knew he probably should after spending so much time between waking and dreaming, an experience that usually left him exhausted. But after a climb all he could feel was adrenaline pounding through his entire body and it begged him to go do some more.

Desmond stood on the ledge and looked across the alley he’d gone down before his climb. It was an easy jump and he took a short running start into it before launching off the top of the building and flew across the gap. His heart flew into his throat in excitement and a little terror as he feared he’d have missed the gap, but soon the top of the next building was coming to greet him and he quickly rolled into it, hitting the back of his shoulder and popping to his feet before he was running again. The burn in his lungs as he ran and jumped and vaulted across the urban playground felt good and he wished it could last forever.

Eventually though he became to tired and practically collapsed onto a ledge overlooking the edge of the city and he could see the Tuscany landscape in the distance.

“Yo,” Desmond jumped at a voice and he almost unsheathed his hidden blade before reminding himself that not everyone was out to kill him; just most of them. Someone sat down next to him, they wore a red hoodie with white graphic designs on it. “Saw you running,” he said tilting his head towards Desmond who couldn’t make out his face because it was half obscured by his hood.

“Where’d you come from?” Desmond asked, surprising even himself in how well he spoke Italian; damn bleeding effect, as he looked around. There was no roof entrance.

“Same as you; I climbed,” the man chuckled, “How else do you get around?” he smirked at Desmond only showing the lower left half of his face, the rest was cast in shadow from his hood and from the light coming behind him.

“So you’re a free runner?” Desmond asked carefully, better not let this guy know to much.

He laughed, “Yeah, something like that,” and Desmond suddenly found his voice familiar but for the life of him couldn’t think why. “What’re you doing up here on such a fine night if I may ask?”

“Just… getting away,” Desmond sighed.

“Life sucks huh?”

“Heh, you could say that again,” he said sarcastically.

“Life sucks huh?”

Desmond couldn’t help himself as laughter bubbled up out of his lips, the man quirked a smile. “I asked for that one didn’t I?”

“Oh yeah,” he agreed and nodded.

“And what about you?” Desmond asked.

“Me? I’m going to get somewhere,” he said.

“Well isn’t that mysterious of you.”

“Hey, I’m a mysterious, charming, Italian; it’s what we do,” he said and Desmond laughed again despite himself. He liked this guy, despite not knowing him. Something about him just made him likable, trustable, and familiar.

Desmond obviously lost track of time because it seemed all to soon when suddenly his ear piece chimed in: “Desmond where are you?” from Lucy doing her best not to sound worried and failing miserably.

Desmond sighed, “I gatta go,” he told his new friend. Friend; there was a word he never thought he’d use again. He didn’t exactly think of the others as his friends, they were only a bit better then strangers to him still.

“As do I. New day’s dawning, time to get moving,” with a groan the hooded man rose.

“Hey, I never got your name,” Desmond said realizing with a jolt it was true.

That caused the man to laugh and he stood with his back to Tuscany and Desmond could finally see the whole of his lower face caught in the light of the city. “You already know it,” he said lips quirked into a smirk and Desmond’s eyes widened when he saw a scar on the left side of his lips. “Just remember; nothing is true, everything is permitted. We’re counting on you Desmond,” and he pulled back his hood nearly making Desmond feint in shock before he fell backwards off the top of the ten story building.

Desmond was to shocked to looked down at first, but when he did he saw a pile of what was very obviously recycled paper.

Desmond returned to the safe house in a daze, not even trading verbal strikes with Shaun when he made a comment about Desmond being late for curfew or when Lucy asked is everything was all right. He didn’t answer anything and just stared at the Animus for several minutes before Shaun’s bitching finally worked into his brain and he got in.

Could that have been possible? Had that really been Ezio? What was he doing here? How was he still alive? To many questions, not enough answers. He closed his eyes as Rebecca put him to sleep with one thought that stopped all the questions; nothing is true.

—
Ezio didn’t move when another man came to stand next to him. They were standing on the building next to the hide out. “So?” he asked boredly his Italian laced with Arabic.

“He’ll be just fine,” Ezio smirked at the much older man who didn’t even turn to look at him. “C’mon old man; we got places to go,” and he grabbed the back of his white hood.

“Five hundred years and still you’re a disrespectful little prat,” the other man growled shoving past him. Ezio just chuckled and followed after the Grand Master.

-fin-

My faaaaace, anon. It is threatening to split, I am grinning so hard. Very nice! :BBB

Random!anon dropping in to say you have won my heart, writer!anon! Loved this, especially the end with Ezio and Altair. :D

writeanon here
Glad you liked so much anons and I admit I had a giant fucking grin on my face while I wrote this XD

Anon, you are beautiful and this was fucking gorgeous, especially the ending there with oldman!Altair, ahahaha <3
I... kind of want a sequel XD But know that it's amazing as it is and I thoroughly enjoyed it! Thank you for writing it!

Damnit why did you have to mention a sequel? Now my brain won't sit still for an instant x.x

Yes! I will encourage your brain with pixie sticks and red bull.

This is the writeanon from the first fill. Some other anon said sequel and this would just NOT LEAVE MY BRAIN!! So; you get a second fill.
--

The man in front of Desmond seemed nice enough with a warm smile and a kind face. But he just hadn’t spent over a month living through memories and being suspicious of damn near everyone to just take the man on face value. So he didn’t offer a smile in return.

“We’ve very excited to meet you Desmond,” he said and Desmond stared at the hand he offered but didn’t take it. “We’ve heard a lot about you,” he nodded and pulled his hand back seeming to be only a bit deterred by the fact that Desmond was remaining silent.

“Desmond, don’t be disrespectful,” Shaun said behind him.

“Right,” he said, “Who are you?”

“Ah, yes, I’m sorry, I forgot myself,” the man still seemed easy going enough. “My name is William,” he said and Desmond blinked at him. He knew of William from reading the emails back at the Sanctuary, seemed like a nice enough guy, probably did something similar to Shaun; made sure everyone didn’t die.

Desmond didn’t know what made him do it. Maybe it was because he’d since learned to accept no one to be as they seemed after reliving the lives of Altair and Ezio. Or maybe it was his own instinct. Either way Desmond shifted the focus of his eyes, refocused and the world washed out into blacks and grays save for William right in front of him and a few others who were at a few desks; all of them washed in a blue light. Or at least they were for another few moments anyways.

“The Mentor has asked that I take the Apple,” William said and Desmond resisted the urge to reach into his backpack and touch it; reassure himself it was still there, but he refrained.

“You heard him Desmond,” Shaun supplied when Desmond didn’t respond.

“If it’s all the same to you I’ll just give it to him myself,” Desmond said.

“He isn’t here right now,” William said.

“He’s not? Man what a rip off,” Rebecca claimed.

William just chuckled, “I’m sorry to disappoint,” he apologized. “So Desmond, it you would; the Apple,” he held out his hand again.

“Why should I give it to you?” he asked still watching William in Eagle Vision.

“For safe keeping till the Mentor gets here. Wouldn’t want it to fall into the wrong hands,” William supplied. That was the trick. Desmond had heard a lot of bull shit (two lives worth of it actually), and so he almost wasn’t surprised as after William said that William’s color faded from blue to red. As did the rest of the Assassins behind him. He almost cursed out loud.

“Sorry,” Desmond said and took a step away from William, “I’ll be keeping it. Far away from you actually,” he took another step back, ran into Shaun who grabbed at the sleeve of his hoodie but he shoved the Brit away and was running. He didn’t even know where, just far away from there and this whole mess.

He’d been stupid to think it could really have been that easy. He should have known better then anyone what the lure of the Apple could do to most men. He’d witnessed first hand what it had done Al Mualim and how his own need to possess it had warped his mind. Why had he been so stupid as to think such a thing couldn’t happen again?

He could hear at least three people running after him, but he didn’t stop to look when he came to the stairs that led down to the foyer. Jumping up onto the banister he let his sneakers slip down the slick marble surface before leaping off and sprinting out the door, and down another set of stairs out of the mansion. A long driveway later his feet hit the pavement and he was running through the city.

Desmond had found he hated modern cities. They were to clean, to slick, and no where to hide anywhere. At least not from assassins, since they knew all the hiding places. He cursed when he had to stop for traffic and looked back and saw almost a dozen men and women in white scanning the crowd for him. He cursed as one of them spotted him and the swarm of red got closer.

He couldn’t wait for the light.

Several cars making their way down the street suddenly got a very unpleasent surprise as a brown haired man threw himself across their hoods or shot out in front of them making them slam on their breaks. One wasn’t quick enough on the brakes and hit two men chasing the first sending them sprawling.

Desmond didn’t see any of this as he shoved his way through the crowd on the street to put more distance between himself and his former allies. He managed to put about half a block between them before he realized he was being and idiot and stopped long enough to pull the Apple out of his backpack. It glowed in his hand, not brightly, but enough to cast a light. He needed to vanish; now. The metal in his palm throbbed and he knew was invisible. His theory was proved true when the assassins ran past him as he pressed himself against a wall and let out a sigh of relief.

But now he was using the Apple. Great. As if he didn’t have enough mental issues already with the bleeding effect. Checking down the street he saw that his pursuers had run more then a block past his location and were splitting up.

For now though he was safe, that was what was important. And the Apple was safe too. He put the Apple away his invisibility fading as he did, he got a few funny looks as he suddenly appeared but he was already walking quickly down the street and away from them.

He kept up his Eagle Vision, so he could see the assassins if they tried to sneak up on him. Not even Shaun and Rebecca knew he could do this, it didn’t transfer in the Animus apparently so it just always seemed like he knew by instinct who and where was what.

Ten minutes of glancing over his shoulder later he stopped dead when a light flickered at the corner of his eye. At first he was ready to bolt but then he realized it wasn’t red; it was blue. He squinted at it as it to see it was real. He’d seen Rebecca and Shaun briefly on his flight from the headquarters, they’d been red too. Who was this? Desmond waited for the light to change and crossed the street, flexing his hand as he did and the hidden blade sliding down to kiss his fingers.

“There you are,” the man spoke English, but not any accent he recognized, like they were all the accents of all languages all mixed together. He wore a white hoodie like Desmond did, only not as bulky, and the hood was pulled up as he relaxed casually against the building as Desmond walked up to him.

“Who are you?” Desmond demanded before he got an answer they both heard a ‘there he is!’ and Desmond looked back and cursed as several red marks spotted them across the street, diagonally from them.

“Later, lets go,” the man grabbed the back of Desmond’s collar and pulled the hood up. Not knowing what else to do, he followed and the man went from jogging to a sprint in three seconds shoving people out of the way as he went. Desmond started for a second before he gave chase after the man dropping Eagle Vision to better see the people around him as he crashed after the man.

The man led him through a gate to the front of what had once obviously been a church, it now appeared a school but Desmond couldn’t be sure since the sign wasn’t in English.

“Why are we stopping?” Desmond panted, the man just looked at his watch but said nothing. A minute or so later the assassins ran past, one of them spotted them and called his partner back. As he did above the bell of the old church rang.

“Meet me at Norich and 44th,” said the man as the doors behind them opened and out poured a school full of high school students. Desmond couldn’t believe his dumb luck, they all wore long white sleeved shirts and dark pants (the girls skirts) and a tie. A few of them wore jackets with hoods on them as well and when Desmond looked over at the man; he was gone!

From the front of the courtyard the assassins yelled angrily, the students just gave them funny looks as they streamed out of school, Desmond with them, tagging along at the edge of a group of boys who were headed away from the direction the assassins took at random. He stayed with them for a few blocks before one of them asked where the new kid had come from and Desmond left quickly to avoid suspicion. Once he’d lost the kids and the assassins he went into the nearest convenience store and grabbed a map. He didn’t pay for it, just opened it and looked at it. He found where he was and he found where Norich was.

It was on the other side of the city.

That left two options, he could take a taxi, or the subway. Seeing as how he had no money he decided on the subway and found the nearest tunnel entrance. He waited till no one was looking before jumping the gate and went to find the line he wanted. The train ride was uneventful to the Norich station and he got off no hitches and made it up street side looking around for his mysterious blue friend.

“Are you going to tell me who you are now?” Desmond demanded when he came up to him, he was sitting on a bench, head down, hood up looking more like a homeless person then someone an assassin would consider an alley.

“You going to keep asking stupid questions, novice?” the man asked in Arabic. Very familiar Arabic and looked up at him. He had a scar on the right side of his lips and when Desmond looked down at the man’s hands he saw his left ring finger was gone.

“Fuck,” was Desmond’s only reply.

“Sit,” Altair ordered and Desmond sat, he knew better then to disobey Altair. “Do you have the Apple?” he asked easily and leaned back on the bench head up, eyes scanning.

“Yeah,” he said lowly, it was currently digging into his back.

“Guess you found out the Brotherhood isn’t as safe as you thought huh?”

“No,”he shook his head slowly. “How are you still alive?” he asked staring at the man who he’d only known through genetic memory and still coming to grips with this fact since first he’d seen Ezio in Monteriggioni and now this. One of the greatest assassins to ever live; and Desmond was sitting next to him and was about as about as conversationist as a fish.

“The Apple,” was all Altair said.

“And Ezio?”

“Unfortunately; the same,” Altair snorted. “It isn’t safe here Desmond,” he said after a silence actually startling Desmond. “You need to get you and the Apple out of here.”

“And go where? I already had the Templars looking for me, and now the Order. Where can I go they wouldn’t find me?” he growled.

“Here,” Altair said as an explanation and a subject change all at once as he held out a slip of paper. Desmond grabbed it and saw it was a train ticket.

“You expect me to-” he cursed when he looked up after reading it; since Altair was gone.

Fuck LJ's shitty character word limit D<
--

—
Desmond stood on the platform as the train he was waiting for came to a stop and people de-boarded. Once they’d cleared it for new passengers Desmond got on immediately and found an empty compartment but quickly realized he’d have to amuse himself for a bit till his passage was underway. There wasn’t much to do though so he took to fiddling with the inner guts of his hidden blade and cleaning the exterior of its mechanics. He’d have to do a better cleaning later.

A man came by as the train was about to depart and stamped his ticket before leaving him as the train began the laborious task of pull itself was a dead stop. Desmond leaned against the fold down table and stared out at the receding platform as the compartment door opened. His hand made a reactionary fist and the hidden blade popped out of its put away position.

“Peace bambino,” said a familiar voice as Desmond quickly looked away from the window as the door slid closed.

“Non sono un bambino,” said without thinking as he glared at the man dressed in the red and white striped shirt. He noticed after a moment that there weren’t just two of them there (he was expecting two at least), but there was a third, standing just behind Ezio and Altair.

Ezio laughed at him and without being invited sat next to him, Altair and the strange man sat opposite. “You’re accent is terrible,” Ezio informed him, Desmond preferred to ignore him.

“Who’s he?” Desmond looked at the third man.

“A friend, you haven’t met him though,” Ezio said. Desmond looked at the man and understood, like the rest of them he had a scar on the right side of his lips.

“Where’s the Apple?” Altair asked. Desmond pulled it out and rolled it between his hands on the table.

“Heh, we match,” the stranger said and put a hand into a satchel Desmond hadn’t noticed before and pulled out another Apple, putting it on the table with Desmond’s. The two Apples started to thrum and glow, they sang together for a brief time before falling silent as the men who were watching them.

“So, this is it?” Desmond asked looking at Ezio and Altair.

“Yeah,” Altair said, “Think you can handle it kid?”

Desmond stared across to Altair and put out his left hand, the muscles along the underside of the arm tensed and the hidden blade shot out, “I was born to handle it,” he said seriously, face set.

-Fin-
--
Non sono un bambino= I am not a child (or according to my translator since I don't speak Italian

Now, the reasons behind the fact that the Brotherhood suddenly went evil? After reading through the emails in ACB my brain was just like "omg that is suuuuch fishy shit right there." Not to mention the red pathway leading away from the door all the way down to the front of the villa. Fiiiiiiiishy!!!!!

Dunno who Assassin #3 is. I just thought it would make sense that there wouldn't just be two assassin's in Desmond's family history that were fucking awesome. He just happens to only know two of them.

Also... why do I enjoy writing Assassin's annoying others? Honestly? Ezio is such a good troll XD

bloody brilliant!

Re: Raptors (4/4)

(Anonymous) - 2011-01-22 06:43 (UTC) - Expand

writeanon

(Anonymous) - 2011-01-22 07:09 (UTC) - Expand

Re: writeanon

(Anonymous) - 2011-01-30 05:12 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Raptors (4/4)

(Anonymous) - 2011-01-23 17:09 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Raptors (4/4)

(Anonymous) - 2011-02-07 16:19 (UTC) - Expand

Hey anons, this is once again the writeanon from the first two fills with a humble offering. Though; this is all I'm posting of Flight Pattern here, for there is more, yes I did say MORE. If you want to read the rest of this you can find it and all my other fills by clicking here (http://www.fanfiction.net/~xazz). The one this one is nestled in is called Flocking Movement. Hope you all enjoy!
--
Desmond sleuthed through the various cars and trucks as he rocketed down 95 in first gear, the thrumming of his motorcycle was loud in his ears even under the padding of his full helm. Even in the middle of the night the interstate had cars dotting it, moving in packs across the long strait stretches of road. As he passed the latest pack he turned back, the bright headlights of the cars behind him caused a harsh glaring glint to strike off the shiny black plastic of his visor, but he didn’t even squint. He wasn’t even looking in normal light either and stared back easily in the washed out and muted tones of Eagle Vision to where he couldn’t see the cars really.

He could see the mass of red coming up behind him though, shimmering in his second vision. They were still chasing him, good, that was exactly what he wanted.

He turned back around and shifted up into second gear, the bike barely noticed as suddenly the speed jumped from seventy to almost one hundred in only a few seconds as he pulled down hard on the throttle. More cars were coming up in front of them and without fear he leaned into the glides as he slipped between cars and trucks, sometimes with only a few inches between him and the other automobile and probably scared the living shit out the drivers. Desmond slowed when he reached the front of this pack and saw the red was closer now. Fine.

Desmond was bait, he knew he was bait. After all you didn’t walk into a Templar stronghold, declare yourself and then run like hell if you weren’t bait. To bad everyone there was either to smart for their own good, or to stupid. It was why he didn’t mind the mass of glowing red cars screaming after him on the interstate.

He turned back front as ghostly horses raced along either side of him, both carrying riders who’s forms he couldn’t determine past them being human. As he watched out the horses running next to him change from Arabians to Aveligneses. He didn’t know how he knew that since to him all horses looked the same, he just knew they had. He’d since stopped bothering to question how and why he knew things though, it made things so much easier if he just accepting what he saw and knew for what they were.

Shifting up in gear to third he shot ahead of the ghost horses leaving the sounds of their whinnies to echo in his head like a half forgotten dream. He shook his head slightly and ignored their sounds as he came upon another of the small packs of cars effortlessly weaving through them and finding himself alone in front of them, he couldn’t see a tail light for miles. Time to take an exit.

Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt.2

Hey what's that guy doing there OH MY GOD IT'S MY ANCESTOR :U

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Raptors (1/3)

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writeanon

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Re: Raptors (4/4)

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Flight Pattern (1/1)