asscreedkinkmeme ([personal profile] asscreedkinkmeme) wrote2010-09-13 08:44 pm
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Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt.2

Assassin's Creed Kink Meme pt.2
Fill Only


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

Warring of Talons Part II - 5/?

(Anonymous) 2011-02-20 05:05 am (UTC)(link)
Ezio sighed and stretched out his back and shoulders in the chair, briefly closing his eyes, hands rested comfortably on his stomach. His legs were splayed out, one leg stretched out completely, while the other's foot was set on the floor. He was half slouching in his chair, bottom closer to the chair's edge than to the backend, but Ezio remained upright enough that it appeared less ill-mannered and more poised. There was a glass of wine set precariously on the end of the chair's thick arm. It was half-full. A look to the floor by Ezio revealed an almost completely emptied bottle of red wine and judging by the pieces of wax stuck to the bottle and the cork a foot away, it had been previously unopened.

Desmond's brain briefly fired an impulse, that he could probably say anything and the man would remember shit all, but restrained it. Ezio's alcohol tolerance was probably a lot higher than Desmond's. Plainly speaking, Desmond's tolerance was next to nothing. The Farm had strict rules regarding alcohol and punishments in hand for anyone toeing the law of the Farm and even though he had bartended, Desmond never drank what he gave out. He saw firsthand how stupid people got off their drinks – if they added anything to it, it wasn't his business, unless he happened to catch sight of some fucked up, brewing situation – and he had still been paranoid enough that he didn't want his senses dulled enough that a hidden Farmhand could grab him to drag him back.

His paranoia had never been his most sensible trait, but it had helped him survive outside the Farm, long enough that it ended up a kept habit.

There was something about Ezio's posture, or lack of a strong one, that indicated complete languor.

Ezio was relaxed, Desmond realized. Desmond drank in the rare sight – forget that one bath scene the group had had on file, or the intimate one with Caterina Sforza – Ezio had been, before Desmond awoke, drinking alone without any harsh thoughts or memories popping up to plague him, ruining his private time. Desmond intentionally skirted his mind away from the fact that Ezio, positioned as he was, chair facing the bed, was most likely watching him sleep like a creepy pervert with a stalker personality.

“It looks nice,” Desmond said, the silence in the air making him hush his words. “Seeing you like this.”

Ezio responded with a noise of contemplation, but otherwise remained quiet, gazing at him, heavy-lidded, head resting back into the chair. Desmond was momentairly coloured impressed that Ezio's eyes were as sharp as ever, then a note of discomfort rippled through him for the second time that night, because Ezio was not gazing at him, he was studying him. Next, came the racing thought that Ezio was observing him observe what Ezio was doing, and the older man had just caught Desmond's unease on his too-open face.

“I'm going to bed now,” Desmond announced, keeping his tone bland. “And I'm going to hope that by morning, this will all just be one big, creepy dream that'll remain one.”

Ezio casually unclasped his hands to grab his glass and took a measured sip from it. He was still silent and watchful.

“You're so fuckin' creepy, right now,” Desmond told him, struggling to keep a nervous, uncomfortable laugh at bay. “Ah... any chance of going to bed?”

“You're in it.”

“Oh...” was Desmond's weak reply. “Well. That changes things a bit, huh.”

“Indeed.”

Desmond was quiet. Then, he twiddled his thumbs. “This... is awkward. I've never been in this situation before, or any quite like it,” he confessed, a hand raising to itch his scar, although it wasn't itchy. “So, last night, you probably slept in that chair, right?”

“I have a hard time resting the day or night away. It is of no trouble, if that was what was concerning you.”

“You mean you're an insomniac?” Desmond stopped itching his scar and leaned forward slightly.

Warring of Talons Part II - 6/?

(Anonymous) 2011-02-20 05:06 am (UTC)(link)
Ezio shrugged after a moment. “I have periodic bouts of sleeplessness every few days or so – it's a condition I have always suffered from in youth, after my first growing pains, but as years passed, the condition has aggravated and worsened. I am hardened to it.”

“How much sleep do you get in a week?” Desmond said, tone sharper than he meant for it to be.

Ezio rolled his eyes heavenward, before they settled again on Desmond. “I do not bother keeping count. It is enough that I am as able-bodied, as ever. If... and if, I were to falter, I would know.” Ezio said, in an assuring tone.

“What, would you drug yourself out cold?” Desmond asked. The image of Ezio draining a vial of mysterious liquid and collapsing in a dead weight was both incredulous and made a part of him flair in panic.

“Of course not.” Ezio snapped, body straightening and tense. “I am needed many places, to leave every circle I know without, is irresponsible and gains the Brotherhood and its allies nothing.” Ezio glared at Desmond, making Desmond clench his hands on the sheet, stomach wrenching tight, then transferred the look to the glass of wine. He placed it back down sharply.

A silence less charged with quiet intensity and more laden with hostility settled in the room.

“Oh, God,” Desmond said, irritated. “Don't give the wine that look. You were relaxed. You were trying and I... I screwed it up.” Desmond slumped a bit, raising his hands to rub his face, roughly. “I always fuck up.”

“Your words were not without their sincerity. I would not place all blame on you. And so, I expect you to answer in kind for yourself.” Ezio told him, hostility no longer in the air, and Desmond dropped his eyes, giving Ezio a look.

“Can you do the same? For yourself, I mean.” Ezio's brows had briefly twitched upward.

“I have many years on me, but I still feel as young as ever,” Ezio said. “I have felt... a need in me. I have many things needing to be done; these things, most, I do not know or understand, but this is how I feel. Instead of years weighing on me, as a man furiously tends to a dying fire with little fuel, I feel like the fire will always be still bright and strong; the wood, never to run out. But, I don't know how to get past the fire to the wood to ensure this remains so, as a cautionary measure. This restlessness keeps me awake, I think.”

“That was... really deep. I like it, it sounded...” Desmond shrugged. “It just sounded like a sentence to remember.”

Ezio lips twitched. “I get philosophical when I imbibe my wine. Perhaps, too much so.” He re-took up his wine and took a mouthful.

“You should get drunk more, then,” Desmond said and laughed at the resulting choke from Ezio as he forced the rest down, using the back of his hand to wipe his mouth and beard off.

“Runt,” Ezio muttered darkly.

“You sound exactly like an old man,” Desmond said.

Ezio glared. “I am not old – perhaps, it is you that is disrespectful, being of less years than I.”

“Yeah, yeah, fine wine and everything grand. Yeah, got it.” Ezio huffed out a short laugh and Desmond grinned. Then, Desmond yawned, and his back was sore from sitting up and wanted nothing more from him than to lay back.

“You are tired. Sleep, now.”

“Don't order me,” Desmond grunted out, but turned around so that he could slide down to lay on his stomach. “Hey, whaddabout you?” he asked through another yawn.

“I am not sleeping this night, as I told you.”

“No, no,” Desmond said, frowning. “I bet that chair's making your muscles stiff and sore.”

“Do not worry yourself. The chair's a sound friend. I pace on nights like these, usually, or train. Tonight, I drank, for what feels like the first night since...”

Warring of Talons Part II - 7/?

(Anonymous) 2011-02-20 05:07 am (UTC)(link)
Mario, Desmond finished. Then, his uncle was dead in the early morning of, under twenty-four hours of Ezio's return home with his uncle – the peace Ezio had briefly felt to be home with his mother, sister and the only man alive who understood him completely, snatched away. The sadness and pity made him grit his teeth together. Desmond had never had memories of Ezio sleep with a woman in any manner, ever again, come up, after that. He wondered if Ezio was punishing himself for any perceived selfishness.

The bed was also large, fit for two, with extra room. Ezio had obviously not chosen the room's furniture, but someone who had relied on the assumption that Ezio was intimate frequently had unintentionally gave him, what was probably intended as an act of goodwill, into a reminder to the man. Ezio was too busy to change it, most likely. Too racked and torn to sleep as properly as he could have managed with his lifelong condition, anymore. Hell, maybe the man purposely refused to change it in order to self-flagellate, alone in his room, every night staring at it from the chair that Ezio intentionally placed in front of it. Desmond was beginning to feel uncomfortable with where his thoughts were going in regards to Ezio's state of mind, so he thought about Ezio's body's comfort, instead.

The chair had to go, first of all. It looked as stiff and unyielding as it felt, Desmond knew from sitting on it prior, the cushions on it more for aesthetic quality. As for the present night, Ezio had been drinking and was not likely to go out from the room, where his recruits could potentially see him, a sheen on his face from the obvious partaking of the alcohol. Evidence for it came from the fact that they had heated words, yet Ezio had not stalked from the room, even when he had been angered and offended. That left only one option and Desmond was only slightly hesitant over it, and not for any reason having to do with them being men – just that, Desmond did not want Ezio to be bombarded by memories when he laid down beside him.

He already is. And you're not just anybody, the thought rose up. Tired as he was, from general exhaustion and overthinking, the idea clung steadfast, and it pinged a part of him, greatly.

“Hey, Ezio,” he mumbled into the pillow. He raised his right arm to point over him. “Chair's not comfy; go lay on that side.”

Chiedere perdono, Desmond,” Ezio said, sounding taken aback.

Desmond rolled his eyes beneath closed lids. “Quit being a child,” he said, mimicking Shaun but not his tone. “Bed'll at least let you lay down. Look, there's easily enough space that it shouldn't be a problem.” Desmond waited for any sound of movement and when there was none, grunted. “Come on, get your ugly ass over here.”

“I am not ugly!” Ezio snapped and Desmond turned his head into his pillow to cover the smile, to hear Ezio began to move and shuffle to the other side. The man continued to mutter to himself, loud enough for Desmond to hear. “I am fine featured in both body and face. Men are jealous of me and women's hearts flutter to catch a glimpse of my fine form.”

Desmond mouthed 'whatever' to himself and was vastly alert to Ezio's presence as the bed dipped on one side, making Desmond briefly grab his side of the bed to keep his own body rolling to the other's area. Ezio was not large by any means, but he was made of muscle weight and bone density – the second, Desmond guessed, but from falls and subsequent shrug-offs of what normal men would die or at least break bones from, felt correct in his assumption. The bed finally settled, as Ezio did, and Desmond relaxed, too.

Warring of Talons Part II - 8/?

(Anonymous) 2011-02-20 05:08 am (UTC)(link)
He was just on the edge of sleep, when he heard Ezio speak. It was spoken to him, but said so low, that Desmond thought Ezio believed him asleep.

“I am sure you do not understand me, when I say this Desmond, but I lay here now, only because I see you. Your shine is brighter than my sister's, my mother, and... my uncle. I believe I know what this means, but I do not want to admit it, just yet.”

Desmond warmed inside and just before he completely fell into sleep, he activated his second sight.

His dreams were highlighted in blues, reds and golds of human and unhuman forms, all surrounding him but apart from him, even though he glowed, too. He was restless, an urgency to go find something, and quick, biting at him. He just could not remember what it was. A scattered few outshone the others - their blue forms so bright, they appeared in a prism of colours, tinged at the edges with the robin's egg blue. One form separated from the mass and glided over to him. “Sleep so long, and you won't wake,” it warned, but its voice was concerned.

“I'll be okay,” he found himself responding with. “This isn't for me, just yet. I'm looking for something. But I forgot.”

“Where are you?” it asked.

“Where am I? Here?” he said, confused.

The being shook its head. “No. Where are you, Desmond?”

“I'm... oh.” He brightened, too. “That's my name. Thanks, that's what I forgot.”

“Desmond, where are you?” it repeated.

“Ah...” Desmond thought about the being's question, but drew a blank. “I don't know, I think here. Am I supposed to be here?” His thoughts scattered and he remembered he was forgetting something he had to search for. “I have to go. I forgot something. Thanks, though, for talking to me. I was lonely.” He moved to go searching and picked the golds first, because the reds made him wary.

“No. No time to search. No time for questions, it seems, either. You have to leave, Desmond.” Desmond clung to the last thing the being said with intensity.

Desmond wanted to smack his head. “Thank you – I knew I lost something. Ah, man, I owe you one.”

“You owe me several,” the being told him. “We'll speak again.”

“I'll be looking forward to it,” he said. “Oh... oh, no. I forgot – I forgot!” He reached for the being, but it avoided his grip. He jumped toward it, instead. “Please, I know you know what I forgot. I don't know why I do, but I do. Please, tell me!”

“Your name. Desmond.”

He grew frustrated. “No. That's not it. If it was, I wouldn't keep forgetting. I know I'm forgetting, because I was standing over there, now I am over here.”

“Desmond, you have to leave.”

He clapped hands over his ears. “No, stop it. I don't want to hear it.”

“It is for your safety. When you are better shielded, Desmond, perhaps...” His hands didn't muffle the being's voice.

“Shut up!” he said, pressing harder, but the voice was inside his head.

Warring of Talons Part II - 9/?

(Anonymous) 2011-02-20 05:09 am (UTC)(link)
“Desmond.”

“No...” he crouched and huddled inward.

“Desmond.”

“Stop, please. That's not it – it's not what I'm forgetting.”

“That one is not Us.”

“Desmond!”

Desmond snapped awake, gasping for air and Ezio's wild eyes greeted him. Broad hands loosened from his jaw and nose. Panicked, he shoved them away. “What, what the hell were you doing? Suffocating me?” he accused.

Ezio's lips thinned. “I awoke only minutes ago; I was surprised, then alert, because something was amiss. You were not breathing.”

“So, you tried to cover my airholes? Are you nuts!”

Ezio's nostrils flared and he glared. “Do not think your speech will distract me! I shook you strongly and even pinched your inner arm, and still, you would not breath on your own.” He released a sigh, it made a shuddered pattern on Desmond's face. “I did not know what else to do.” Desmond thought Ezio's hand shook, as it ran through his hair to cup the side of his face, but then Ezio spoke. “Desmond, it is alright. Be comforted, the phantom is gone, as the sun breaks the night.”

The statement was so odd, that Desmond did stop. “What?”

“I would not believe it, myself, if it had not happened to me, except mine was different. I was young. Sixteen. I was asleep, my body heavy and numb and it felt like someone, something,” Ezio corrected and motioned to his chest. “Was on here, sitting on me. All weight on here, and I could not breathe. I could not move, nor would my eyes open, but I willed it so – my mind as active and frightened as if I were awake. I tried to speak, make some noise, until finally, I felt my lungs would burst and I would die. Only then, did the weight lift and I breathed freely. When I opened my eyes and sat up, I banged foreheads with... my brother, Frederico.” Ezio swallowed hard, before shaking his head. “He had been fooling around with... an ability of his, when he saw me and I appeared to be weakening from my room. He had raced to me and when he touched my shoulder, I woke.”

“Thanks. I do feel better,” Desmond said. What else could he say? He sat up and rubbed the re-afflicted areas of his face. “I don't remember what I dreamed. Which is weird, because I usually do, at least until I'm up and moving.”

“Let it lie.” Ezio advised. “Do not worry over a forgotten memory. Energy best directed, elsewhere.”

“You're right, except... I will,” Desmond said, when Ezio opened his mouth. “There's just a sense of... being lost. I think I was lost and cold. Alone.” He snorted, giving his scar an irritated rub. “Damn, you're right, no use mulling over it – I'm getting irritated, just because I forgot it.”

Ezio nodded. He lifted himself from the bed, when Desmond exclaimed, “Hey! You slept. You said you woke up!”

Ezio turned to look at him over his shoulder, gathering his hair in a piece of throng. “I did. I am still as surprised as you sound.”

“I'm glad too,” Desmond said. “Your body needs sleep, like it needs air. It's not good to get more of one thing than the other.”

Ezio laughed. “Now, who sounds like an old man?” Ezio dressed and left, after saying, “You may eat your breakfast here or partake with us in the hall. Whichever you choose, I am fine with. Wander anywhere but outside or uninvited into someone's room – I cannot protect you from my own rule.”

Desmond looked down at his lack of proper clothes and said, “Like I can.” And then, Desmond groaned. “That asshole was naked. There's got to be some sort of propriety against that.”

Side Notes

(Anonymous) 2011-02-20 05:25 am (UTC)(link)
virilità - manliness <-- also, Ezio's entire sentence starting with "Come, come," sounds pretty innuendo-laden. Or, at least to me when I wrote it, BUT IF NOT, I fail. :D

Chiedere perdono - Beg your pardon.

Like I wrote before, I started this after supper but officially focused on it after a time and finished it by the early hours of, what is now, yesterday. I spent a nice day with my closest, best friend today which accounts for me not posting it sooner. I only see her once a week, as she lives in town and goes to school and works. I have my own caretaking to do at home, so we're pretty much both just involved with other matters.

My writings a break for me, even if I'm at home, but even then, I need my own break from my break, or else it starts feeling like a chore. Which nobody wants something they love to morph into.

I went to bed yesterday and pinged on several ideas for the fic. I also won't post the huge-but-cutting off-the-rest-from-your-sight-because-I'm-displeased-with-it Part I parts, until tomorrow. I said I would DO IT, in the post before Part II's beginning posts, but as my computer is occupying another's room - I am forced to do that tomorrow! But, yay, for everyone, because I'll have more time to focus on cutting the parts I am posting into appropriate spaced ones.

OH - THREE GUESSES AND NONE COUNT XD : what's Desmond dream communing with?

Much love for everyone who has been so wonderful and patient, and yes, I am really still sorry - but thank you, I am taking care of myself! Don't worry! I appreciate your words and thoughts, though, always! :)

I can't leave well enough alone

(Anonymous) 2011-02-20 06:03 am (UTC)(link)
Desmond drops his hands, not eyes and looks at Ezio. That's what I meant, but instead it was dropped eyes for WHATEVER reason in my head.

Oh well. I do my best to read it through, but mistakes are made.

If there was any more mistakes, please, point them out - it will help me keep the fact in mind that I have wonderful people reading this and I should not fuck it up. This is a form of self-torture with good intent; please, indulge me, it makes my writing crisper.

And now I really am going to bed. I wash my hands of posting until later-LATER today.

Much love for you all!

Omygeee.

(Anonymous) 2011-04-07 11:27 pm (UTC)(link)
This is just, seriously, one of the best things I've ever read. Desmond is bloody hilarious in this, and I loved Ezio's whole 'not taking lip' attitude at the start, genius. :)

Ezio is bloody STRONG too. I love the whole hurt/comfort caring vibe, its just compelling to read. Thank you for writing this! I want mooaaar. <3

Re: Side Notes

(Anonymous) 2011-02-20 12:13 pm (UTC)(link)
Ohmigodohmigodohmigod SO HAPPY

My beloved write anon is alive and posting <3

And there are so many delicious Ezio/Desmond hints. My squee could be heard for miles. Also, Ezio is maybe in love with Desmond? Is that what you're going for with the brightly blue Des?

As for what Desmond's dream means, is it to do with him being in the Animus? This fact makes me unhappy due to none of this happening to Ezio really, it's just to save Desmond's sanity. But in that way, it's cute because his brain believes that Ezio's tight, bite-able arse urh, love, I mean love - can keep him from losing his mind.

Thank you, so very much, dear write!anon. Try not to listen too closely to your inner critique, you are doing a brilliant job.

P!Anon

Hey, hey! :D

(Anonymous) 2011-02-21 04:43 pm (UTC)(link)
I'm very very glad you enjoyed yourself! :D

Hm. Well, I don't want to give it all away, but I will say that any romantic love is going to come up, but it'll go through the stages. Right now, both Ezio and Desmond feel a pull there, one feeling it more subtler than the other, but the string is there. The seed's been planted in the subconsciousness. The bond is there, too. Nothing says spring's coming, then full, dark soil with tiny green shoots.

ER. For your other question, OH NO, I don't want to say anything. I seriously WANT to, especially for you, but I will hold mum.

Thank you, as always - and take care, too! Have a wonderful day!

W.Anon

Re: Warring of Talons Part II - 9/?

(Anonymous) 2011-02-26 07:24 pm (UTC)(link)
holy fucking *flail*
This anon is getting so excited for more of this fic. It is so lovely.

Re: Warring of Talons Part II - 9/?

(Anonymous) 2011-03-18 06:59 am (UTC)(link)
This is amazing.
I hope to see another one soon and pray you have not abandoned this, anon!

Re: Warring of Talons Part II - 9/?

(Anonymous) 2011-07-18 04:54 pm (UTC)(link)
Previous!anon misses this fic so much, and worries about writer-anon. I hope you're all right, where ever you might be.