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.

☃ The fill/request doesn't necessarily need to be smut.

☃ Don't flame, if you have nothing good to say, don't say anything.

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☃ Last, but not least: HAVE FUN!

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

Mindshift 16/18

(Anonymous) 2011-06-08 07:10 pm (UTC)(link)
His helmet was on top of the box, and his sword bounced at his hip. He could feel the small weight of the doll in his tunic. Altair kissed his wife and led them up to the desk.

He pulled out a small, round object. “This is the Apple.”

Desmond raised an eyebrow. “Okay?”

“Say goodbye to your granddad, Desmond; it’s time for you to go home.”


Altair tossed him the Apple, and he caught it by instinct. It began to glow softly. He jumped.

“What’s going on?”

“It’s going to take you back to your time. Say goodbye to your granddad.”


He dropped it, but the Apple didn’t stop glowing. When he looked at his hands, they were slowly becoming transparent, and he panicked, clutching his granddad close.

“I don’t want to go!”

He felt his granddad hug him back. “You need to go, grandson.”

“Granddad! I don’t want to go! What’s going on!”

He was terrified as he clung to his Granddad, the box and helmet in his hands shaking. He was absolutely panic-stricken as the Apple glowed brighter.

“We’ll see you later, Desmond.”

“Malik! Make it stop!”

Malik had turned away, unable to watch. “Take the sword and the doll with you. Remember us.”

Desmond’s breathing was erratic as he clutched to his Granddad. “I’m not leaving!”

“I love you, Desmond,” he heard his granddad say.

“I love you, too,” he whispered. “I’m happy here!”

He found himself in the middle of a group of soldiers. He had his box and helmet in his hands. The guards were staring at him. He glanced around and recognized the ruins he was standing in as the village of Masyaf.

“What the bloody Hell?”


He turned to see the three from the picture on the iPhun thing Malik showed him. It sent the guards into a tizzy.

“Bring them to Rikkin!”

The box and helmet were yanked from his hands, and he was bound and brought before a frightening gentleman, who was sitting and playing with the Apple. He was young, with slicked back black hair and a thin, pinstripe suit. His eyes were a creepy bluish grey, cold and icy. A Russian Blue—“British Shorthair, damnit,” Shaun corrected him—sat on the corner of his desk, watching them. The walls were adorned with antique weapons, each polished and cared for extensively. In the farthest corners were beautiful cobwebs with large, black spiders crawling on them. There was a desk before him, meticulous and drab, and behind it sat Rikkin. There was a door off to the side, and several men and women dressed in servant’s garb standing at the edge of the room. The wallpaper was gold in the dim chandelier light coming from above his desk. The burgundy carpeting looked more like blood from where Desmond was kneeling on the plush floor. Around him, there were pieces of Eden on shelves, and Desmond could feel the hum of their power in his veins. He could feel the grief from being ripped from his granddad, but the pieces of Eden seemed to be trying to soothe him.

“So, you are the almighty prophet of Eden, the one who will bring us down. Funny, you don’t look that frightening, and you’re dressed in a Templar Knight uniform.”

Desmond looked at the Apple in the man’s hands. He felt lost, kneeling in front of this guy, trying to accept the fact his granddad was really gone, and so were Malik and Altair.

“I want my granddad,” he muttered, looking at the floor.

“Oh my God, it’s really Alan Rikkin,” a young woman murmured.

He whipped his head to look behind him to see the blonde woman from the iPhun Malik had shown him. He jerked at his restraints. Alan laughed.

“Tell me, Desmond, do you know the power of these pieces? After plenty of research, we’ve found that they say that there is a terrible beast locked inside of them, and that Those Who Came Before locked it away in these pieces, and that’s what gives them their power. They found a new planet after it destroyed theirs, and started over with creating humans. They predicted that there would be one man who could access its power and would become its new vessel.”

Desmond’s eyes were glued to the woman. His body ached for her, and the hum of the pieces was driving him crazy. It almost sounded like a beast whining.

“Who are you?” he whispered to her.

She looked at him, wide-eyed. “What?”

“Who are you?”

“Desmond, you know I can’t understand Arabic.”

He tilted his head, watching her.