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
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Discussion

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Absolutely none. Because I am rushed to go to the movies, right now - and just know that I AM SORRY if there's any misktakes.

Still enjoy! :D

Ho-hum. Thank goodness, back from the theatres and so I can finish my thoughts without feeling rushed.

Alright. Researched a bit. Dr. Yealland was an actual psychiatrist in WWI.

M1903 Springfields were the rifles used in infantrymen until the a better rifle with faster-firing rate was developed, the M1 Garand - a eight-round semi-automatic, in 1937. However, the M1903 Springfield still retained its use during WWII, because of too many troops and not enough funds to supply all of them with newer rifles.

Adeela means equal.

And incidentally, I lied - you WOULD HAVE found out why I was looking into Maria and Giovanni, had I had time today to spend on the parts. I am not bitter, because it has been a day well spent. I visited and had supper at my aunt's and had a good time and babysat my baby nephew. It was all in all, a refreshing day.

Also:

I may have incited anger with my use of extreme racism inside the ranks. However, it's a story, as we all know, and I'm enjoying myself filling it, and I hope you all do, too. I do not regret writing as I do. I meant to write that scene as I wrote it. I do not apologize for that, BUT I do apologize for angering or offending anyone. I just really hope I didn't incite anything negative.

If I made anyone feel uncomfortable - please, say so, so that in the future posts, I will tone it down. No, I am not babying you or another - while I enjoy what I write, as I've stated in comments of comments, I enjoy writing mainly to give others enjoyment. If there is no enjoyment derived, I've lost the point and my focus. Should one say no and others yes, or the other way around, I will tone it down to varying degrees, depending on the response.

Should there be no lessening in enjoyment, at all, well - the show goes on!

Sincerely,

Anon-Writer

“Desmond!” Erudito's voice said excitedly. “Your location – I can see you're location – you're back in Timber Island – the Assassin headquarters.”

“Great,” Desmond muttered. He experienced slight difficulty raising himself, arms quivering from his weight. “Uh, Jesus Christ, I feel like I've just been run over by a truck, got dunked in a river and held under there, and then some ass shoved cottonballs in my mouth. Shit-coated ones.”

“In good humour, I see,” a deep voice rumbled out, over Erudito's bark of laughter. Desmond squinted past the bright light beaming through the open window, into his face, and stared at a man who did the same to him from a high-backed chair, legs stretched out, one ankle behind the other. “Though,” the man continued, “I understood all but one – what is a 'truck'?”

Desmond replied to Ezio, “Something you'll never see. So, don't worry yourself, bothering me over it.” His stomach complained loudly. “I'm hungry.” Unintentionally, he gave the man an expectant look. Wordlessly, the man gestured elegantly with a wave of his hand, nodding with a gaze to Desmond's right.

A gleaming silver tray with matching lid and legs stood on the sidetable beside him.

Desmond sat completely up, grunting and reached toward the handles on either side. It was with a weak clench he grasped them, briefly, before releasing his grip. Desmond knew he would only fumble and collapse the tray and its contents to the floor.

Desmond cleared his throat, embarrassed. “Mind lending a guy, a hand? Please?” he added, wondering if he sounded as rude as he thought.

The older man hummed. “While I cannot part with my flesh, else surely risk certain death; I assume you mean...” He unhooked his ankles to rise and was soon depositing the tray table neatly over Desmond's covered lap. “This? And you say my speech is unintelligble.” He made his way over to the window and flicked one side of the curtains to cover part of the sunlight. “And now, you have your vision, undeterred, Desmond. Eat well.”

Desmond was struck by Ezio's face, clothed in casual clothes for his station.

Ezio had a beard with a minor amount of silver hairs, as if a painter had taken a medium-sized brush and lightly carassed it. His jaw was more filled, but it was strong and his mouth had natural wrinkles of age creasing the corners, but it enhanced the stern, proud set of his mouth. His eyes were a hard brown and he held the air of a man who knew no hesitation in his actions. His stare was penetrating and intense, like a predator waiting for the precise moment to strike. What grabbed Desmond's attention the most was Ezio's hair. Claudia, he recalled from Ezio's memories, had had loose ringlets framing her face and apparently, that trait had been gifted to another before her.

Desmond would wear his hair back, too, if he had hair that other people used products in his time to attain. Too attention-grabbing, when it was least needed. The curls offset the harsher aspects in Ezio's face and gave the effect of youthfulness – while the darkness in his eyes borne by time, battles and trauma, would have caused anyone to take steps back had they not known him personally (perhaps, even if they had), the curls made Ezio more charismatic, even as an older man. It made people take repeated looks back at Ezio, attracted closer. Desmond knew, too, that once Ezio turned on his charm, people were like fish that had jumped into a boat without having been caught.

Realizing he was staring, Desmond shook himself and explained. “Sorry. See, for some reason - your looks - you look...” He stopped, voice cracking in hesitation. “Wow. You look different. Really different. I mean, when you knocked me out the... fifth? - time, I sort of saw you, but wow, just... wow.”

“'Wow'...” Ezio said, rolling the word on his tongue. “What does this mean? Good, bad? Perhaps, strange? Or does this word infer something of my age?” Desmond gave him a perplexed look and opened his mouth to hastily respond, but Ezio interrupted. “I shall instill in you, that I am like fine wine...”

The words hung in the air, as Ezio hovered over him, watching him. Sweat trickled down Desmond's chest.

“... tastes better as it gets old?” Desmond finished awkwardly, before demanding, “And why am I naked?”

“No.” Ezio delivered Desmond a swift glare, irritation swirling in them, before they became placid. “It is that, only the more experienced may truly best me.” Ezio cockily smiled, ignoring Desmond's important question. “And I have yet to have that happen.”

Oh, right, Desmond thought – Ezio had some weird age rage, going on. Probably going through this time's equivalent of a mid-life crisis.

“That's nice. You look real good,” Desmond commented - with a downplay of pleasantness that came from bartending and customers too drunk to think a compliment was an insult. It had kept Desmond from getting his face smashed in. “Fantastic. A real catch. If you were a fish,” Desmond noted, nodding sagely, “in a lake, that had only fish the size of my hand – you'd be as large as I could humanly hold. … So, why am I as nude as the day I was born?” he slowly tacked on, rephrasing his previous, very important question.

“Do not mock me,” Ezio said, eyeing his tray. “And eat your food. I will be back to check on you – and do not think to spill it out the window,” he warned, going to the door and opening it. Before he closed it to leave Desmond alone, he said, “You will only have spilled the hot liquid on some poor woman or fool – searing their skin terribly for life and afflicting them with horrid burns that should they have a surface to look upon themselves, would never wish to, again.” He closed the door with a finality.

“Okay,” Desmond said to the open air, snorting. “Fuck. Had to say a novel.”

The door swung open half-way and Ezio sidestepped into the room. Desmond froze like a rabbit.

Ezio said, drawling the words out, “You are nude, so to aid in releasing you from your fever. Also, I heard you, clear as the sky is blue. ” Ezio stared at Desmond with unblinkingly. They communicated: watch it.

“We also must talk, later – about that marking on your arm. About many things. I am... not in my right mind, at the moment.”

The door closed. Desmond narrowed his eyes at it, relaxing. Then, zeroed in on his left arm, which held an intricate, wrapping black tattoo meant to represent the Assassin's.

“Looking forward to it.” Desmond sighed.

He slowly dipped his spoon in his broth, eating its contents without tasting it.

“That was interesting.” Erudito commented mildly, then. Desmond choked on his fifth spoonful.

“You heard that?” Desmond gasped out, coughing.

“... Yes. I told you, I was working on reconnecting the communication link.” Erudito sighed. “I really, really made a mess for myself.”

“Yeah. I knew that. I just... forgot you were there. You're fixing it though, right? And working on getting me out of here? Look, it hasn't been a walk in the park.” Desmond removed the tray holder to the other side of the bed – he felt hungry, but the broth just wasn't cutting it.

Erudito responded, “Desmond, you are in here by mistake, but the motive had not been. My cohorts placed you in the Animus thinking that... one of your ancestor's memories and mental fortitude would pull you through the shock. … Desmond?”

Desmond had long since ceased his fit of coughing. He was unresponsive to Erudito's concerned, repeated calling of his name, because Desmond was remembering why he was in the Animus, how he came into this strange Animus program that used Ezio's memories as a template for virtual reality. Thinking about Lucy and her shocked eyes, brought home that the first woman he connected and bonded with - even if it was a case of Stolkholm, hadn't made the bonds less true; the emotions Desmond had for Lucy were real and that was what mattered, in the end – was dead.

Desmond had killed her. Desmond's thoughtlessness and putting too many steps forward before looking down to see where he stepped, was the culprit. The Apple had controlled his actions, but he had been the idiot to grab at it – another part of him that lived vicariously through his ancestors' desired to repeat their actions of grasping the Piece of Eden, firmly. He recalled the excitement – there he was in front of the very Apple Ezio had gripped with one strong hand, a duplicate of the Apple Altair had immersed himself in – and before he knew it, his hand moved – a selfish moment, wanting to feel the Apple in his own hands, but juxtaposed by the fierce desire to relive Ezio and Altair as himself, without the Animus's intervention.

It had been Juno through the Apple, but it had been Desmond's hidden blade – the hidden blade given to him by Lucy.

Desmond smiled mirthlessly – Lucy dead by her own doing.

She saved Desmond, gave him the means to defend and protect, and her own deeds were her end.

Erudito was saying something and Desmond rose his head, slightly.

“What?”

“You're thinking about her? The Templar agent?”

“She has a name,” Desmond spat back, before he calmed himself with a shaky inhale. “Had. Sorry.”

“... Tell me, I heard through the grapevine that you had your first kill and consecutive ones shortly after, in the same sitting. How did it feel?”

Desmond had no idea where Erudito was heading to with his question.

“Want me to be honest?” he asked, instead, and receiving a hum of agreement from Erudito, thought for awhile. Desmond eventually said, “Not myself. I woke up, and it was like, I knew I had to do it, and I'd do it, because it was the only way. Hm, real Ezio-like with a large scooping of Altair.” Desmond scratched his scalp. “I'm... a big avoider. I don't like conflict – why the fuck do you think I left the Farm?” he cursed without any rancour.

“What was your standing there?” Erudito asked. Desmond humoured him.

“Pretty high. Miles, we had more than a few Master Assassin's in our known lineage – there were rumours inside the family and the compound – you hear shit when you're a kid and adults'll talk – that we descended from a few Grand Masters. Turned out to be true.” Desmond chuckled and Erudito followed suit.

“But,” Desmond finished, “on the Farm, you had kids young. Eventually, come me, 'the blood waned too thin' the council liked to say. Too many outsiders in the Miles blood. My great, great-grandmother, Adeela was the last to show the true heart of the Assassin's.” Desmond chewed on his lower lip. “That was the memory. I saw my forefather, Miguel, and Adeela – he was one of the many outsiders in my line.”

“Anything you excelled, particularly, at?”

Desmond thought, again, pulling out memories best laid to rest.

“Tracking. Lockpicking. Had an aptitude for silent killing, they said. I hated heights, scared me shitless, but the mentors always had compliments to give my form – said if I tried harder, I'd be up there with the best of my age group. I got my tattoo when I was fourteen – age of majority – and then, a month later, I was given an assassination. I was dropped off into a city – and I was lost; it was my first time in any place outside the Farm, I'll never forget the feeling. Fuck, I failed it hard. And I had been slated in for the mission, because of my specialty.”

“Why did you fail it?” Erudito wondered, sympathy winding in the words. Erudito sounded like he already knew why and Desmond shrugged, shaking his head, and voiced it aloud.

“I couldn't do it. I couldn't jab the stilleto into him, and I was right there beside him and he hadn't even noticed me as a threat, like I wasn't even there. Then, that was the end of it – I came back without anything to show for it. Later, it turned out that there was a master – one of my own mentors - waiting in the wings, following me, to make sure the assassination went through, either way. I felt awful and ashamed, couldn't look any of them in the eyes – my parents didn't help.”

Desmond snorted. “They hadn't been anything special, either. But they both pinned a lot of hopes on me. I'd be the one to raise the Miles from nobody's who came from somebody's, to a bloodline worthy of notice again – reliving the glorious days. Heh. Man, once I hit sixteen, I was gone. I failed all my missions, purposefully.” Desmond laughed, rubbing sore eyes. “They kept handing me mission after mission, my mentors saying, “This time, he will,” always, this time, this time. Parents gave up on me long before my mentors did, I don't think they ever. Then, like I said, sixteenth year came – I was handed my last assignment – I didn't think I would do as I did, actually. Didn't think anything eventful would occur. Thought I'd fail it as usual, return home and hang myself.” Erudito's breathing stopped. “Yeah. Teenage angst and a lot of other shit...”

Desmond buried his head in his hands.

“They were my aunts and uncles, my mentors – not by blood; by the time I came around into the world, I came from a couple of lonely-only children, twice-over, so no cousins, at all. Just me. And Lucy didn't have to say a word when she said Assassins came to free me, some losing their lives. I knew it was them. My parents loved me, yes, in a way a child is loved for its potential. But they wouldn't... die for me. My mentors would.

“Fuck, one had before, already.”

Not much to say in the side notes, on this part. No tidbits to shove out.

BUT - you now finally found out about why I was looking up Maria and Giovanni.

Now, I recall NOT putting my reasons for changing Ezio's face, so I'll put them down here. I read, and I'm pretty sure, it is on tvtropes on Assassin's Creed page, on its WMG link (Wild Mass Guessing) there was one troper who put forth a remarkable theory.

They said, basically, because I'm not quoting, that the faces of Altair and Ezio that you see, are not really theirs. It is just the Animus superimposing Desmond's face on their face, to better synchronize him with their bodies. Anything that happens, like the scar-mouth, is just the Animus doing its job for Desmond to assimulate properly. Forgive my misspellings, I tend to write off the top of my head come Side Notes, directly in the comment box here. Paired with me talking aloud, much to my mother's confusion every time.

So, anyway, that really struck me - and stuck to me and wouldn't release.

As I was writing this, I had an image of Ezio. First, he had straight hair as he usually does. Then, as I thought more, going in the story, I suddenly imagined him with curls. And those nice, thick man curls - you know the ones I'm talking about. Men with curly hair are fantastic to look at, simply because their hair is so gosh darn thick and beautiful. I like men with long hair, any hair type is great, but curls, wow - be my babe tonight, like Whitney Houston sings it.

Anyway, this is not five parts like last time. In fact, I was trying to write SIX - trying to beat my last number of posts - but I'm pretty anxious about my wisdom-teeth pulling, which happens on WEDNESDAY morning. GUH.

I cancelled it in November due to family circumstances, plus I was nervous. They told me to call back in December and I found excuses not to, until finally I could not stand the constant aching. Cue me calling in the beginning of Jan - I believe it was the ninth - and suddenly, the twelve couldn't come fast enough. Or slow enough. Sometimes I use my words wrong. You know what I mean.

Oh yeah - I'll be laying and recovering on Wednesday, so no post then. And to prevent weird, loopy posts, I will not be touching my computer for a week or so. I just - in case. Just in case.

Alright, then! I hope you enjoy this night's postings. Sorry about the lateness. I usually try for 9ish, early 10ish, if I don't post for 3-5pm.

OH GOD - no, not Jan 9th. I called Jan 1st or 3rd. I kept glancing at my clock, and fretting that I hadn't you know posted when I had wanted to, and nine got stuck in my head. It was a brainfart.

Writer!anon, this fic is making my day. I just found it and read through it all (even though I need to wake up in less than 6 hours) and it was amazing. I can't wait to see more. *_* <3

I am very glad to make your day, and while I love that I have, I really do wish you not sleep deprive yourself over my story! :) Be sure to get lots of rest once you get back from your daily activity to make up for it. Not to sound like an aunt or something, but its true! That way, everything seems a bit brighter, you'll wake refreshed.

I will attempt - STRONGLY so - to kick my anxiety over tomorrow into the curb - and post a few more parts tonight. I haven't written anything yet and probably won't until after 6pm - things to do today! :D

Alrighty, hope to hear from you again! Have a great day! You've made my morning, too!

Previous!Anon returneth! I cannot tell you how much I enjoy this fic - everything about it is so awesome, from Sub 16, Desmond's backstory, the attraction between him and Ezio (oh my god I live for that UST) - I am in awe of your fic-itude and I so desperately want to read EVERYTHING in your repertoire and the anon rules make me weep in futility!

I hope your dentistry goes perfectly and that you are blessed with swift, uncomplicated recovery (and not because I am your fic-whore. Or, not /just/ because of that...)

Multitudes of boners and internets,
Previous!Anon

Mhm, this is my first AC-fic, so just know how absolutely fantastic I feel to have it being received so well. The fact that everyone is so nice has me roaring to go, even more.

I'm glad you enjoyed my backstory of Desmond, and Erudito in here. AND OH GOD - I was wondering if I was doing it right or not.

See, I was researching body language and what different positons meant of the arms and legs - and so I will be using that definitely throughout the fic - and I was hoping someone would catch the attraction going on between Ezio and Desmond.

I had been going for the more subtle undertones of it, too. So, was it too loud, or just right?

Either way, your reaction, if measuring your amount of enjoyment, is wonderful. And I am glad that I'm keeping your enjoyment going. :D

I'm going to have to have nicknames for all of you, because I'm not sure who's who yet. I know I had two new readers, one above - one who has stayed throughout (is that you?), the OP - and another one. UNLESS I'm miscounting.

Nicknames would be nice. I like to bond with people, bonding is natural! If only to get past the ANON-RULE. *shakes fist at it*

Do you write other stuff? (maybe even published? Because you are /that/ good) I'd unanon and risk high ridicule/mass trolling just to read moar! I do remember you saying you hadn't written in a while, though.

It is utter perfection, Write!anon, you bring the ust like a Borgia brings the incest. Only a whole lot more fun than them.

And yes, I am your first anon commenter. The one who exclaimed about holy minstrels. ^_^ So, I'm 1, Pathetic!anon is 2, Fantastic!anon is 3, OP is 4, uplate!anon is 5. *nods*

(I was kindda confused as to why Ezio had kidnapped Desmond, but then reread it just now and was all 'Oooooh, ACII ending with Minerva talking to Desmond. I UNDERSTAND IT NOW DERP DERP DERP' - you're more awesome than I realised, Write!anon. Huzzar for re-reading!)

Thank you so much - god, that really lifts the spirits up! :D

Also, you cleared everything write up. So, five people - that's super!

No, no, I don't have anything original published.

The flattery is accepted, and don't say it's a compliment because it's true! :) I myself have read astounding pieces that are really really well thought out, with plenty of intelligent words that gets the point of five words, with one.

Hadesphoenx's Eir's Tomorrow is one where I am always blown away. I highly recommend her.

And currently I'm spacing out my next part to be posted on here.

Enjoy! :D

So I guess my nickname from now on is pathetic!anon lolol After few days of not being able to touch computer, I come back and find this. ...It was BEAUTIFUL/sniffles. I love this fic very much writer-anon! Hope to see more in the future C:

ps) Wisdom teeth AFPOIJWEPGIGPIPWEGHHHH I hope you recover soon. I have to go and see dentist today too. Wow, coincidence, much? XD

Haha! No, no - any you choose is yours!

And I'm glad to have made your days especially sweeter for the wait.

I hope you enjoy the next part, too.

Thank you, and I hope yours goes well, too! :D

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt.2

Side Notes

Actual Side Notes

Warring of Talons Part 22/?

Warring of Talons Part 23/?

Warring of Talons Part 24/?

Warring of Talons Part 25/?

Side Notes

Re: Side Notes

I think I'm in love.

Oh, thank you! :)

Re: Side Notes

Haha :D Thank you!

Re: Haha :D Thank you!

Awesome!

Re: Side Notes

Coincidence - everything happens for a reason! :D