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.

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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 8/18

(Anonymous) 2011-06-08 06:51 pm (UTC)(link)
In the extreme back corner, he saw the graveyard, and he took off the helmet, holding it close as he performed a leap of faith. He felt his back hit the hay, and he took a bit to enjoy the feeling before getting out, brushing himself off, and slipping the helmet back on. He walked to the graveyard, feeling powerful in his costume. He wondered if the others would freak out when he returned.

He paused in the middle of the street. He remembered the others’ faces, but their names eluded him. His hand rested on the hilt of his—Malik’s—sword. He didn’t understand how he didn’t remember his friends from the future. He had only been there a week and a half—mostly due to the guard camps and making new friends in the Templar ranks. He frowned: he should remember their names. It was going to bother him now.

Eventually, he shook his head and shrugged. It wasn’t going to help him now. He looked himself over once in full uniform. The gun was tucked neatly into his belt and holster, and his backpack was still around his back. His hidden blade was still on his arm. He set off for the graveyard. When he got there, he waved to the Templar in the corner.

“I’ve been sent to replace you. The head wants to see you.”

The Knight pointed at himself.

“Yeah. I don’t know why, but it didn’t sound bad.”

The Templar nodded and began walking toward him. “Thanks.”

When they passed, Desmond grabbed him and sunk the hidden blade deep into his stomach, watching him fall. He grinned in the helmet and walked over to the chest, opening it. His grin spread wider across his lips as he spun his backpack around and unzipped it, creating a nest in his hoodie. He paused when he found a thin black thing. He stared at it, wondering what it was, until it hit him like a ton.

“My iPhone!” he said, setting it aside.

He turned his attention back to the chest, brimming with gold and plans. He grabbed his iPhone. He needed a picture of this, if only he could remember how to turn it on. He fiddled with it for a second before it flickered on, and he frowned. He needed to remember how to do that. After a few second of messing around with it, he got it to take several pictures of the chest and the surroundings. For the man with the glasses, he told himself.

He turned it off and set it to the side, stuffing the small bag with the gold and treasures. He grinned as he packed as much as he could before he zipped it up, picked up the Iphone, and tucked it in by the ragdoll.

“Right, Malik.”

He adjusted the heavy weight on his back and ran at the wall, scrabbling for purchase and finding it, crawling quickly up to the roofs. He ran along them, grateful that the Saracen guards paid him no mind. He found his way to the assassin’s bureau and jumped in through the top, near jumping out of his skin.

“Die, Templar!”

He drew the longsword and parried the blow. An assassin novice was fighting him. In seconds, he had the poor man pinned. He saw Malik come rushing in, sword in hand, but the blow never came. He kept the novice pinned, watching the dai through the opening in the helmet as he recognized the blade.

“Novice, this man is an ally. You’ve come sooner than I expected.”

“Safety and peace, Malik. I didn’t want to sit through them talking about my future. I’d rather wait.”

Malik nodded. “Has Altair found you?”

“Not yet. Is he here?”

“No doubt wondering why I have not killed you yet.”

He slowly got off the novice and took off the helmet. He wiped the back of his neck and scowled. He was sweating like a dog.

“Follow me. I will get you something to drink.”

Desmond followed awkwardly into the other room, taking a seat at the checkerboard. Malik got him a glass of water and sat across from him after attending to the novice. When he was done, he said, “Be gone with you, Novice.”

He brought the water pitcher over. “Do you play chess?”

“No,” Desmond shook his head. “I’m not that smart.”

“Yes, well, your harebrained schemes worked well enough to get you here.”

“I’m surprised, but thanks for the compliment.”

“It was not a compliment.”

“It is to me.”

“Tell me about that happened with the Apple, so I will have information to give him.”