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

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assassin's creed

Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt.2

Assassin's Creed Kink Meme pt.2
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Welcome to the Brotherhood

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

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Desmond slowly craned his neck up, eyes trailing past black pants and the white robes to the man's waistbelt where a long stretch of sharp metal (a sword, Desmond corrected himself) was secured to; to another belt of multiple knives strapped diagonally across his chest and attached to the belt above the sword was a knife made of obsidian stone; and finally upward, to a face hidden in the shadows of a hood. Desmond felt pinned like a butterfly by a sharp, assessing stare he couldn't see or meet.

“Oh, fuck.” There was even a crossbow on this man's back. The guy was a walking armory.

“Yes. Do not test me.” Desmond's eyes widened. Deja vu. “I am not in a good mood, young one. Salute.” Without a further sound aside from the soft, barely there scrape of his boots and the whisper of his cape and robes, the man walked away leaving Desmond gaping.

“Oh, holy shit, was that....? But – wha?” Desmond choked on his masticated apple and finally sputtered it out in chunks. It looked disturbingly similar to chunky bile on the stonework.

Desmond stood shakily, light-headed, numbingly stuffing the knapsack into his bag, because that man – that man, that armor, he was -

A sound Desmond had never made in his life raised in his chest and he captured it before it released from his mouth. He willed it away, but the emotion of euphoria and excitement was like a clap of startling lightning to his nerves. His whole body shook and his breathing hitched and stuttered, but not from fear (maybe a bit). Desmond repeated the memory of the words he heard, how they were said and the sight of the man who had just stood above him.

A one-man army wrapped in a suave package of charisma – even when being a crab-ass to people he ought to apologize to – Desmond had even wanted to apologize to the man, too, felt he had to for the encounter, in the end – it was insane! Desmond guessed that it all took into account Ezio's personality, prescence and a masterful grasp of manipulation (subtle and not). The man was just as skilled - there was nothing like being winded and in pain from body-slamming into cliff edges to realize that this man was the Terminator – further evidence, was all the accidental falls Desmond took Ezio on, what would have killed Desmond on impact, only made Ezio grunt; if he were previously injured or fell from an extreme height – for Ezio - it was a loud, teeth-gritted shout, but still: Terminator.

The only one who could have possibly caused a larger ganking of Desmond's common sense and dignity as a being of normal self-control, like Shaun would towards historical objects and figures, was Altair. Syncronization lowering because of something ridiculous as being hit? Impossible, but it was Altair, so he had made shit probable and entirely likely by lieu of being himself – Just imagining how awesome a man aged by time, like Ezio had, would be, Desmond would have probably guest-estimated wrong.

Altair wasn't here, though - Ezio was, in the flesh.

He immediately started toward where he thought the master assassin had gone, “Left or right? Up?” Desmond muttered fast, mind racing. “Mm, left; left, I think. No, I know he went that way.”

He rushed to follow Ezio.

Desmond attempted to be as quiet as possible, once his eyes happened to be attracted to a turn down an alleyway, where he espied a flash of white and red-underlined fabric, as the owner of said material continued on his way. Before then, he had been half-jogging, half-speed-walking, trying to catch up, swerving to avoid colliding into others, and as he had passed by his third alley along his way through a second street, he had seen it.

Desmond didn't think too hard on how he had followed Ezio as far as he had – he probably had a weird sixth sense about the man, having occupied his body.

Desmond rolled his eyes at the noise coming from the alley. Of course, Ezio chose the one where people were going at it.

His borrowed, ill-fitting boots made a lot of clickety-clacks on the pavement. Trying to silence the sounds resulted in failure – Desmond wondered how Ezio did it, and Ezio's boots had thick steel in them - the thing about being in Ezio's body was that, when not charging too close to a memory point, he had free reign of it, so much as directing where he wanted Ezio to go, like climbing the Pantheon multiple times, for no good reason (one time had been Desmond's curiosity, but the rest were all Shaun) could be considered as being free.

Desmond had thought really hard and sometimes shouted and felt like a caged, rabid animal in a moving shell shaped as its body, before Ezio had done what Desmond wanted him to do in regards to Shaun or the girls. It had grown tougher to do as he had progressed further into Ezio's memory sequences, until eventually, in no time at all, it seemed, Desmond was as he had been with Altair in the later stages - a guy along for the ride.

Shaun had liked to bother him about his lack of brain cells, but Desmond wished he had pointed out how much effort and neurons he used just by being in the Animus. After each session, sweat had coated his body and his brain had throbbed in his temples.

He felt the wind, pain, muscle-burn and grit of teeth as much as the body he occupied had, but if Desmond concentrated too obstinately on the fact that he felt the body as if it were his own and a moving, breathing one at that, and yet he himself wasn't doing any of the voluntary or involuntary actions – Desmond was aware he would have gone straight into madness.

Living beings on principal lived on the freedom, the control of their own thoughts and actions. The Animus made him struggle with both and eventually, he had neither.

Desmond didn't have to worry about it, anymore – he had both now, as much as he could, being in the Animus still. He could interact with his surroundings and people – and that was another thing, Desmond thought, as he neared the corner of the backalley - the people were no longer copies; somehow, they all were very individualistic, it was amazing – from their movements, features and voices.

Food tasted and settled in his stomach, as it would in reality. The environment was so real, Desmond had to remind himself several times that it was all false, just programming.

It was a little too real, Desmond thought. The moaning and groaning noises raised in volume as he reached the corner. Desmond's cheeks involuntarily grew warm and he swore to not stare as he passed the fornicating couple wherever they were, close by.

Desmond turned the corner and bumped into a dead end, which weirded him out. Stumbling back, boots sliding for purchase on the wet cement, he was caught by the front of his collar. Desmond clued in. The blockade he had bumped into was a solidly built man.

Being slammed into the grimey wall of the corner he had just turned, also reminded Desmond that he felt pain in spades. He was also mildly sad about his purchases being squished in his bag, especially the sweet roll. He had been looking forward to the taste.

“Ow.” Desmond said automatically, bewildered. Then, he realized who was gripping the fabric of his overcoat, the hand having moved to grip the stiff material over Desmond's clavicle. Dread set in and his stomach dropped. There was also the minor problem of the flat edge of something sharp, a dagger, maybe; the steel teased the skin of the underside of his jaw – Desmond held his head up and away as best he could, gulping. Without the sunlight to blind him and the hood shadowing all features, Desmond was given the lower half of Ezio's face to boggle at.

Which turned out not to be Ezio. The man was taller than Desmond, and having seen old recordings of Ezio bare, Desmond could pinpoint that while there were a few discrepancies in the face, they were identical in everything else, just like he and Altair.

Desmond stared at the lips of the man in clothes he knew on sight.

"Where's the scar?" he asked, reeling in confusion, before the blade pressed deeper in warning. Desmond slowly rose his hands.

"Okay, okay, pal, I got it. I got it. How about we introduce ourselves, huh? Nothing like a good old-fashioned knife to the throat to gain friends. Happened to me tons."

"Clearly," the man said. Desmond wondered if the man had a grasp on sarcasm. He was assured of Ezio's identity by the voice, at any rate. Still sounded as rumbling and rich as their last encounter and all the times before that, hearing it in Ezio's DNA sequences.

"Desmond Miles. I'd add, 'at your service,' but as we can both tell, I'm really at the point of your blade."

"You may call me Ezio Auditore da Firenze; friends call me Ezio, of which you are not part of." Ezio bore the entire weight of his body into the arm holding Desmond to the wall, much to Desmond's adding discomfort.

"Now, why have you been following me, Desmond Miles?"

Desmond would have opened his mouth, but was saved from putting his foot in it, by the long, heavy silence coming from Ezio.

“Desmond.” The dagger briefly bit into his skin, before it was removed with a sliding click – oh fuck, and thank god - it had been the hidden blade. The wet slide of a bead, thicker than sweat and stickier, ran down from the slit before he felt the weight of the bead disappear as gravity took it.

“... Yeah?” Desmond had a pretty good idea what was running through Ezio's head. The man tilted his head to the side, drawing down closer until Desmond's forehead was being caressed by the edge of Ezio's hood. Desmond naturally attempted to seek out Ezio's hidden eyes with his, following until the intensity maximized, his breath catching.

Ezio's scent was a mix of sandlewood and the natural musk of a man, along with the undertones of sweat, cured leather, steel and blood.

Ezio breathed out his name again, near-silently; Desmond wet his lips, quickly, as Ezio's breath ghosted along the pair tickling them. He swallowed, mouth suddenly dry. His entire face to his ears were fiercely heated – Desmond expected the reactions – he was in close quarters with a deadly man who was bizarre in his unfamiliarity. What he didn't calculate, was the curling heat in his groin, pooling there, extending to his toes. He blamed the still-fucking man and woman, he could see in his periphery and hear over the hot rush of blood in his veins.

He also hadn't expected the chop to the neck, but there went to show Desmond that life was still full of surprises.

The bastard could have been less of an asshole and pinched a nerve in Desmond's nape or something, instead.

-_-_-_-

There was an X-Men shoutout in today's post. That aside, my nerves are going completely batty on me. GUH. Steady, steady.

This part was a bit of a a chew-fest. I wrote the ending part of Part 7 on the fly, as I decided as I wrote after I cp'ed the last part to the comment box, how cool that would be to have their interaction like that in the next part.

I almost shot myself in the foot. GOOD THING for this mind of mine! And I knew that I had to write it as it was written in the end notes of Part 7 (I basically copied and pasted the part where I placed it) and have it still mesh well with the other scenes.

That's how my mind goes. If I concentrated solely on what I had flung into the endnotes, I would be locked in a stalemate wondering just HOW I was going to bring the scene to life. I would have sat for hours, finally resulting in a headache. So, I said screw it, and wrote and wrote until I landed on an avenue where it seemed plausible.

The first draft (I say draft but I don't do drafts, I type and if I don't like I BALETE IT) actually had Desmond's journey to gather his supplies and then the tailor directed him to an inn (I labeled it The Falcon for whatever, cheap reason) and then had a long conversation with the owner about his room leading to the rooftop. Basically, I was gathering for the scene of Desmond to see an assassination by Ezio of one of the guards and Desmond following by ground, leading to the scene written in the endnotes. That's how the snippets of idea in my head went.

Then, I realized it was too tedious, too long - and WHY was there conversation with the inn owner? No need! So I deleted the pages I had and started fresh with Desmond happily eating tomatoes and started from there. The opening scene made me happy imagining the characters satiated, happy outlook now that food was in Desmond's belly, so it stuck. And I was much more pleased with it.

SIDE NOTES is me rambling away. Mostly about either what was in the posts or something like this, just you getting to know me and my thoughts.

Oh my god, now I know where some of the anxiety came from!

How the - oh no, I now know how it came about: usually I would REPLY from other Warring with Talon posts, so all I would have to do was delete the RE: and change the number of which part. But instead I replied using the first Side Notes post - and thoughtlessly typing it in. Well, I got the Warring and Talon words right at least... OH WELL. I don't know. Whichever sounds best, I guess. Does 'of' sound better or does 'with' jive best with the two words?

Warring with Talons <-- sounds like red and might to me.

Warring of Talons <-- a bit yellow and steel imagery in my head.

Hm, hm - Don't know.

Previous!anon here again! Just... just... oh man, I love this. The encounter with Ezio is epicness.

I don't understand why more people are not reading this beautiful fill. I CANNOT BE THE ONLY ONE.

Even if I am the lone reader, please write!anon keep going.

You appear to be the only one.

YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW YOU SPUR ME ON, anon. XD

Hopefully the next part should be up by tomorrow.

Thanks again! :D

My pathetic excuse of not being able to comment on this fic:
I found out about this fic TODAY /facepalm
I can't believe I missed out this fic, I mean holy mother of...
Don't worry writer-anon, I'm sure a lot of people are reading this.
I definitely know I'll be, starting RIGHT NAO /eager eyes

And thank you for your comment! :D I'm glad that people are enjoying it, and especially so for those who took time to say their words.

Overall, I write for everyone's enjoyment, but it does feel good to receive acknowledgement, as everyone else on our planet can agree.

And don't think of yourself as pathetic, no one is! And besides, you have found me and I have met you halfway as of today! :)

I'm still writing out the other parts to come, so as of right now, my clock states to be around 10:00am, Jan. 8 - so I don't expect to be done until much later. I'm hoping to post by 3pm. If not, 5pm. At the very least, I will post what I have by 9pm.

Thank you again for your lovely response! :D

This is a fantastic fill. Writeanon, not the OP, but you have made my evening.

I am glad to have done so!

As I posted in another reply to another lovely anon, I will write again: It is now 10:09am on my clock, Jan 8 (I wrote the dates because it appears the lj is several hours ahead, just in case!) and I hope to post by 3pm, as I am still writing out the other incoming parts. If not, then by 5pm. At the very least, I shall post whatever I have by 9pm.

This is to allow me some breaks and rest between writing, should I not be finished by 3pm.

Thanks again for your comment! :D

Late op is late..

I really liked the way your handling this, especially with all the extensive research you seem to be doing and the effort you putting in.

I also like how Desmond how Desmond had to deal with life in Rome without all the benefits of it being a just a simulation.

So anyway keep up the fantastic work~

Oh goodness! Hello, OP!

I'm so happy and excited to know that you are enjoying yourself!

I'll do my very best to give you the same amount of enjoyment in the next parts.

Thank you for the prompt! It's been great fun for me, too!

Super excited for the next part, anon! Keep up the fantastic work! :D

Aah, I feel only slightly terrible for my oversight that I missed you - somehow, I don't know how. "Only slightly" if only because it's been too long since then and now, but still the GUILT is there and makes me feel horribly lax.

Um.

Well... LOTS of parts now! I'm sure you've read them and I hope you've continued to enjoy.

Just know that I am warmed by your response! Thank you and I can't promise when the next parts will be due - I've decided to RE-haul the parts I had incoming. But, I will be cracking on them.

Thank you, again! :D

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt.2

Warring of Talons Part 9/?

Warring of Talons Part 10/?

Warring of Talons Part 11/?

Side Notes

Warring with or Warring of

Re: Warring of Talons Part 11/?

Oh, but it appears to be true! :D

Re: Warring of Talons Part 11/?

Don't be embarrassed, it is alright! :D

Re: Warring of Talons Part 11/?

And you have made my day

Oh this looks like a good fic- oh shit was that my prompt?

Oho, yes it was! XD

Re: Warring of Talons Part 11/?

Oh Good GOD