asscreedkinkmeme ([personal profile] asscreedkinkmeme) wrote2011-03-29 05:37 pm
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Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt.3

Assassin's Creed Kink Meme pt.3
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Get out of my bureau!

☃ 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.

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List of Kinks
(Livejorunal) Archive
#2 (Livejournal) Archive
( Archive
(Dreamwidth) Archive <- Currently active
Part 1
Part 2
Part 4
Part 5
Fills Only

Mindshift 6/18

(Anonymous) 2011-06-08 06:46 pm (UTC)(link)
“Are all of you novices this squishy in the stomach?”

The young man was kicking and flailing in the headlock, laughing hysterically as he struggled to answer.


“Y-yes, s-s-sir!”

He smirked as the young man dissolved in a fit of laughter, held in Desmond’s headlock as he mercilessly tickled him.

“What’s your name, kiddo?”



“N-no!” The young man took a huge gulp of breath before shrieking when Desmond got him in the sides.

“Oh, you’re really ticklish here, Tttimmmoththy?”

He kicked out like a horse, laughing as he tried to get away. Eventually, Desmond relented and smirked as the young man fell on his rump, scrabbling back a few paces.

“It’s Timothy!”

“Oh, Timothy. That makes more sense.”

His horse stomped its foot and snorted, and he patted her nuzzle before turning and walking back into the camp. Timothy practically danced out of his way, and many of the nearby Crusaders were watching curiously. Desmond jogged back to the tent and helped his “Granddad” get ready before leading him to a log and fetching them breakfast. He decided not to wear the helmet yet.

After they ate, he thanked the men profusely and hopped on his horse. Both were ready to go. It took an extra hour to convince them not to take an entire escort with them. The two rode off shortly after camp was in full swing, and he sighed, stretching when they were out of sight and headed toward Jerusalem. He breathed in, inhaling the scent of the old world. It felt great.

“You have quite the reputation a head of you. Do not think it has not been spreading like wildfire.”

Desmond let his arms down into a stiff shrug, still stretching.

“Eventually, even King Richard and Altair may hear of it.”

“One step at a time, Granddad. Everything happens one step at a time.”

The old gave him a serious look as he shook like a dog.

“I’m still trying to get use to being here.”

“You will cause yourself much trouble.”

Desmond scowled. “I’ve been in deeper shit. Like when I was kidnapped and forced to do weird shit for—”

“Watch your language.”

“Right, sorry, Granddad. I just feel… good here. Like I can do this.” He leaned forward on his horse. “My head hasn’t felt this clear in so long. I used to see all kinds of things. Here, my mind is clear, and I don’t see anything anymore. I’ll fight whatever comes. They didn’t kill me when they hunted me down, and they won’t be able to kill me now.”

“You are arrogant.”

Desmond looked at him sadly. “No, not really. I know I could die. I know there’s a really good chance I’ll wind up dead with this lie I’m weaving, but I could die happy here even if I was captured and tortured for years. I feel so good here.”

The old man shook his head. “You are an odd one.”

“I am not from this century.”

“Right, right, with the treasure from the temple, correct?”

Desmond nodded. They rode in silence to Jerusalem, and he enjoyed the old man’s company. His rumor preceded him wherever he went, and he was exalted like a god. He didn’t particularly care for the rumor, but it was necessary. It took several days to get there, and every morning, he checked the gun, helped with the horses, and rode with the old man. Desmond never said it, but he was becoming incredibly attached to him. He loved the silent company, the sage advice he’d sometimes give, or the compliments on his fighting style—which he owed entirely to Lucy and Ezio. The old man, while worried for his sake with the rumor, seemed to enjoy the attention as they passed safely into the gates of Jerusalem.

“Incredible!” the old man whispered to him. “To think we got in without any hassle from the guards!”

“See?” Desmond said as they rode through the market. “It was worth the lie to get you here safe. You helped me out majorly.”


“Big time. A lot. That means I owe you my life, pretty much.”

“So this is the man who claimed to beat the great Altair Ibn-La'Ahad?”

He looked to see Malik standing in front of them, several paces off. He was scowling. Something nagged in the corner of his mind, and he became aware of the small doll in his tunic. Shocked, Desmond pulled out the small ragdoll and ran his fingers over it.

“Where did you get that!”