asscreedkinkmeme (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
asscreedkinkmeme) wrote2012-01-04 10:19 am
asscreedkinkmeme) wrote2012-01-04 10:19 am
Entry tags:
Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed [Fills]
We're about to reach the posting limit on pt.1&2, this is for those who wish to continue/write on prompts on both these parts.
Writers! It is your responsibility to link back to the original prompt.
There are no request in this part of the meme.
List of Kinks
(Livejorunal) Archive
#2 (Livejournal) Archive
(Delicious.com) Archive
(Dreamwidth) Archive <- Currently active
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Discussion
Re: Altered Flight Pattern (69/?) RENESTED
(Anonymous) 2012-01-01 07:37 am (UTC)(link)--
Altair slid his thigh between Malik’s legs, his mouth affixed firmly to the side of Malik’s neck. Malik was the one with his back against the wall because Altair was was pushing annoying asshole who couldn’t let Malik have all the fun. Though really he wasn’t surprised nor was he complaining. He liked the firm weight of Altair’s body pressed up against his, the feeling of his lips and tongue on his neck, below the collar line and planned on wearing a high collared shirt tomorrow just in case.
Slowly Altair licked up Malik’s neck, along his jaw and into his mouth. Malik moaned and kissed him back, Altair pulling back and drawing away back over and over again agonizingly till Malik just grabbed him by the back of the head to keep him within easy distance. Altair made a smug noise into his mouth and pressed his knee up further. Malik had to break the kiss then and gave a soft groan when Altair kissed his bottom lip then his chin, almost blindly littering kisses on and around his mouth.
He pushed Altair back firmly and Altair took a step back, though his hands wrapped around Malik’s waist, and dragging him with him. They took a few tottering steps back, Altair pressing more kisses to Malik’s face, sometimes finding lips, but also finding skin and scruff, till the back of Altair’s calves found the edge of Malik’s bed. Malik gave Altair another firm push and the Syrian crumpled back against the bed, dragging Malik with him.
Malik propped himself up on what was left of his left arm, which was enough to hover over Altair, and his right elbow and looked down at him. Altair’s eyes were slightly lidded, a his mouth curled into a smile as he rested his hands in the small of Malik’s back. Malik leaned down and kissed him gently, memorizing the way his lips tasted and that for all the crass, blunt, obnoxious, things that came out of them were also the lips of a charmer; full and warm and plait under Malik’s. Only once he was satisfied he’d never forget the taste or feel of Altair’s lips he pressed his tongue into the other man’s mouth to taste his tongue and learn the soft expanse of his mouth.
Warm hands slid up under his shirt, pressing a slow advance up the line of his spine that made him shiver. Altair gently nipped his lower lip as they drew apart briefly before reaching blindly for each other again, lips pressing half soft half firm against each other, and Malik moaned when Altair’s hands reversed directions and slid down and over the swell of his ass in his jeans. Altair grinned into their kiss as he squeezed Malik’s ass and Malik rocked his hips forward against Altair’s thigh. He wanted more friction and did it again, this time the moan coming from Altair.
“—too — clothes,” Altair panted and Malik only caught part of the sentence as the Arabic dripped off Altair’s tongue like honey. “—Malik,” he groaned and again there was more but Malik couldn’t comprehend the other tongue, fuck he could probably barely understand English at this point. All he could even process was the feeling of Altair under him and the press of their lips and the heavy, solid, weight of his hands, and the frustrating amount of friction against his forming erection. “Malik, too many clothes,” he finally managed to get it out in English, his voice rough and thick and strained as if he was having trouble getting it out in the right language for Malik to understand what he wanted.
Malik let himself be rolled over and pressed into the bed for a moment before Altair sat up and furiously opened the front of his pants with a relieved groan now that he wasn’t so confined to the thick denim. Eyes bright, pupils massive, he leaned back over Malik and slid his hands up and under Malik’s shirt, pushing it up as he pressed light kisses to his mouth.
Re: Altered Flight Pattern (88/?)
(Anonymous) 2012-01-01 07:39 am (UTC)(link)--
Then Altair’s fingers brushed the very bottom of the scar tissue on his flank and he stiffened. It wasn’t even a conscious action, it just sort of happened. Altair pulled back, frowning slightly. He set his hands in the hollows of Malik’s hips and looped his thumb through the belt loops of the jeans Malik still wore. “What is it?” he asked and Malik was glad he wasn’t touching, he couldn’t think when he was. He looked sideways, unable to look at the other man, but Altair unhooked one hand and gently grabbed his chin. “Malik,” he said, making Malik look at him. He didn’t have to say anything else really, the question was all in his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Malik said.
Altair blinked at him, surprised, “For what?” and he let go of Malik’s chin to stroke his cheek. “What could you possibly have to be sorry for?”
Malik licked his lips and his eyes roved again before settling back on Altair and he was suddenly super aware of the remaining part of his arm and the fact that when he wore short sleeves the end always just barely showed. He didn’t own any shirts like that anymore because of it, except for night shirts, for when he was alone, and no one could see or stare. His next words were small and dry and rasped out from the back of his throat, “I don’t want you to see.”
Altair blinked at him, not understanding at first, then, just like they always did, his eyes traveled to the partial empty sleeve. Malik did his best not to squirm from being stared at so openly by the other man. Most people caught and eyeful before looking away, not wanting to be rude, only a few people were comfortable enough around him to just stare right at it without feeling awkward, and one of them was dead now.
A frown etched itself right across Altair’s face before he snatched up Malik’s hand and put it against his stomach under his shirt. He then grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled up. Malik felt his throat go dry watching the curve of Altair’s body as he stretched his arms up over his head, his abdomen full of muscle. Then his eyes caught more detail. “You aren’t the only scarred one,” Altair told him and gently took hold of Malik’s wrist, guiding his hand across the multitude of scars on Altair’s chest.
Malik carefully traced each scar as Altair presented it to him, starting with the newest one, the bullet wound that looked similar to a ragged starburst in his side. Malik didn’t know how he’d missed them that first night, since they were everywhere, all shapes and sizes, and all pale against his dark skin. Maybe it had been the adrenaline, the fact that he’d been so wired after the burn out with Ezio and then the shock of seeing Altair again (bleeding out in his kitchen non withstanding) he hadn’t really checked him out, half naked as he’d been. Now though it was all he could do to find each imperfect mar on his skin, each white scar, with his eyes and his fingers and know them. Altair watched him levelly, his hands back on Malik’s hips, letting Malik slowly find each perfect little scar.
As Malik found one of the last ones, on Altair’s shoulder, over his collar bone, a deep, nasty wound like he’d been stabbed, Altair leaned over him, “I don’t care,” he said softly, “I like you because of your imperfections,” and he kissed Malik gently. Malik reached up and wrapped his arm around Altair’s neck. “It’s not like you still aren’t amazing even if you think you’re flawed,” and he brushed his lips against Malik’s. “I like you just like this,” and he rested his forehead against Malik’s, amber eyes closing.
His own eyes shut and he had to quickly press his hand over his mouth before something that sounded very much like a sob threatened to come out. Altair didn’t say anything, didn’t even open his eyes. “Damn you,” Malik was finally able to mutter and Altair’s eyes flickered open and he looked at Malik curiously. “Why the hell did it take you so long to come into my life?” he demanded.
Re: Altered Flight Pattern (89/?)
(Anonymous) 2012-01-01 07:40 am (UTC)(link)This time when Altair pressed his shirt up he didn’t let himself flinch, didn’t try to twist away. He just let Altair slowly peel his shirt off and throw it somewhere else. When he was done Malik felt uncomfortably exposed and his heart hammered furiously in his chest, he was sure Altair could hear it it was so loud. Altair didn’t say anything even as Malik watched his eyes trace their way along his amputated arm and the mass of scar tissue along his left side from the IED shrapnel. “You know how girls have a thing for scars?” Altair suddenly asked.
“Uh… I guess,” Malik said, taken by surprise. He didn’t really worry about what girls did or didn’t like, since he wasn’t interested in them, though he heard his friends talking about them. Lots of girls dug scars apparently.
Altair’s mouth turned wicked, “I do too,” and he leaned down. But instead of going for Malik’s mouth he pressed his lips to the top part of the scarring, which started at the top of Malik’s shoulder. After the explosion the shrapnel had lacerated most of Malik’s arm and found the weak parts of his body armor, effectively mutilating his left side and leaving him with such a useless lower arm that there was no way to save it. Part of it had been skin graphed, to reduce the scarring, but there was still pale, dead, tissue along his flank marking out the worst of the blast. He felt his breath hitch when Altair pressed his lips to his healed over skin, brushing his lips down the length of the remainder of his arm gently. Altair cooed out gentle shushes against his skin, pressing brief kisses to the scar riddled skin between them.
A long shutter rolled down Malik’s entire body when Altair’s lips slid back up what was left of his arm, skating over skin, and then down his chest. He caught one of Malik’s nipples in his teeth and Malik grunted, arching upwards slightly, the sudden change making his head spin. Like everything Altair did he always left Malik slightly unsteady, slightly off kilter, like he could fall at any moment, though he knew Altair would always be there to catch him. He groaned when Altair gave another tug at his nipple before simply biting down onto skin, not hard, but enough to leave a faint indentation of teeth on his breast. He swiped his tongue over the bite mark before sliding down lower and Malik pushed himself up a little to see better as Altair simply slid off the bed and onto his knees.
He undid Malik’s pants, and Malik lifted his hips up a little so that in two tugs Altair had them off and on the floor. He ignored Malik’s erection, which was back to it’s former self after that brief moment of self-consciousness, and kissed his way down Malik’s thigh, then back up the other. He hummed and propped his chin on Malik’s hips and damnit so close to the tent in Malik’s boxers it was practically criminal. “I think it will take me a long time to memorize all your perfect imperfections Malik,” he said with a little smirk. It twisted into a smile as he said, “Good thing I’ll have all the time I need to learn it,” and he turned his head to kiss Malik’s erection through the thin cotton of his boxers. Malik groaned in annoyance and want.
Re: Altered Flight Pattern (90/?)
(Anonymous) 2012-01-04 03:38 am (UTC)(link)http://www.fanfiction.net/s/6787852/19/Altered_Flight_Pattern
Re: Altered Flight Pattern (90/?)
(Anonymous) 2012-01-04 06:35 am (UTC)(link)I like your writing and I wish that people would review/comment on your stuff more (which is where I'm reading the bitterness, right?) But I guess that's the nature of these kinds of fics, huh? Long, well thought out fics seem to get the smaller reviews (but that might be due to the fact that readers are intimidated by them?? Especially when they see how high the thread numbers get??)
Once I get the time to read this all in one go, I'll review on ff.net, kay? :3 I know I'll like it, because your fics are always great.
Re: Altered Flight Pattern (90/?)
(Anonymous) 2012-01-06 10:29 am (UTC)(link)I love this fic and I'm happy with how it ended. Great job, not-so-anonwriter!
Re: Altered Flight Pattern (90/?)
(Anonymous) 2012-07-07 05:33 am (UTC)(link)There are no words to describe just how much I love this.
This story. Just. OhmyfahkinggodIlovethis. I love it. To no ends.
There are no ends to my love for this or for you for writing this and I'm just so happy right now and words really do not do any of it justice. It has got to be my absolute most favorite fic for this fandom ever. Ever. EVER. Hell, it's easily within the ranks of being the absolute best of all the things I've read in my lifetime. I love this. I love it.
Thank you so so so so so so fracking much for writing it.