Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt. 4

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Assassin's Creed Kink Meme pt.4

Welcome to Constantinople

‡ 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
Kink Meme Masterlist
New Kink Meme Masterlist
(Livejorunal) Archive
(Delicious.com) Archive
#2 (Livejournal) Archive
#2 (Delicious.com) Archive
(Dreamwidth) Archive <- Currently active
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 5
Fills Only
Discussion

Comments

Dream Memory

[(Anonymous)]

Anon here gave this a try. Hopefully, you'll like this. I like how it came out and hopefully the steamy bits don't disappoint you.


Desmond wasn’t a stranger to weird dreams. Ever since he could remember, he had many dreams far more strangely than this one. Still, it was strange, it felt weird and out of place.; As if he didn’t belong to his body and was just a mere guest inside of it, then again it was a dream. Even so, it felt strangely familiar. He felt his body move with the sway of his hips, deadly and stealthy. He moved slowly through the diminishing crowds onto a narrow street way void of any people.

At that moment it came to him, like a flash of lighting.

He was reliving one of Alistair’s memories through his dreams.

He saw a shadow, felt Altair smirk and follow the shadow. That’s when he saw ‘her’. ‘She’ wore a heavy cloak that covered her entire body and face, so Desmond couldn’t recognize ‘her’, but Altair did, judging the way his body reacted. His whole body had tensed up; desire building up until it burnt him. The mysterious ‘woman’ made a gesture and ran. Altair followed suit, following ‘her’ as she ran into the crowded streets and away from Altair.

It was clear to Desmond that this was Altair’s lover and the whole chase was something common among them. It felt familiar and almost welcoming. Altair chased down unto wide streets, narrow streets, to roofs. He was surprised at the ‘woman’s’ ease to climbing up walls and roof the same way Altair did. Desmond assumed ‘she’ was an assassin. Finally, ‘she’ had reached where she wanted for them to be. They stopped right in front of a tower.

Desmond saw the ‘woman’ climb the tower, up until ‘she’ reached the roof. Altair followed, with throbbing loins. It had taken Desmond for surprise Altair’s intense desire for the ‘woman’. Just who was ‘she’? He was about to find out, soon enough Altair had reached the roof. He saw the ‘woman’ open a door, and close it behind ‘her’, barely turning and sharing a look with Altair. The assassin’s throbbing became more apparent; he growled lowly, a promise in his eyes to ravage ‘her’.

Altair opened the door and entered a small stoned room filled with haystack and with a high, circle window that allowed all of the full moon’s light to bright the room. It gave the place a glowy, sort of ephemeral feel to it. Desmond was compelled. The ‘woman’ turned, taking ‘her’ cloak off and letting it fall to the ground, nestling at ‘her’, no, his feet.

Right in front of his eyes stood the man, who, because of Altair’s pride had lost his brother and left the stump of an arm. Shock filled him as Altair approached the man. The full light of the moon illuminated their faces as their lips met into a fiery kiss. Desmond struggled to grasp the concept of what was going on, to understand the situation, but there was no explanation. It just was what it was. With great dread, he saw as Malik kissed Altair’s jawbone down his throat, throwing to side all of the assassin’s weapons, and robes. Altair did the same, taking his sweet time to cares and kisses every inch of his lover.

Both groaned in unison as they stranded naked in front of each other. Altair took Malik into his arms, and gently pushed him against the mass of haystack. Their lips locked in passion once again, Altair’s hand traveling alone the lines of Malik’s body, tracking his very being. Ever so slowly he prepared his lover with his skilled, long, rough fingers, making him moan and gasp, begging for more.

Desmond trembled, feeling the heat in his belly. Somewhere along the lines, his mind blurred into Altair’s, feeling his desire and throbbing passion in the loins; Desmond felt turned on by the whole thing. It was disturbing, but nonetheless, extremely hot and sensual.

Altair eased himself inside Malik, thrusting at first gently, then fast and furious, no mercy. Malik screamed, legs wrapped around Altair’s waist, hands gripping the back, nails digging onto the tanned skin. Their bodies mangled together, danced to the song of love and passion, consuming each other under the full moon’s light. It was beautiful.

Desmond didn’t know how much they lasted, how much he lasted. Just that Altair’s locked eyes with Malik, both grunted and gripped tightly into each other. Then it was hot white ecstasy; the images slowly fading away, leaving only its sensations.

For a brief second, Desmond swore he saw Malik’s image focus on him, his pale Arabic face looking directly at him. Hands wrapped around his stomach; Blood trickling from his lips. Then it zoomed until there was nothing to see but the ceiling from his bedroom.

Desmond groaned as he stirred awake, sitting up on his bed. He looked at the door ahead of him and grimaced. What was that dream about? Where Altair and Malik lovers? Why did he saw that one memory? What did the image at the end meant?

He didn’t know.



As you can see, me smut skills are lacking and I don't dare to be more descriptive than that. Also, I gave the whole mpreg thing a twist, maybe someone will get the meaning of the ending.

Re: Dream Memory

[(Anonymous)]

This Passerby!anon Adores this!!! I know I am late but I do hope this continues. And at the end I had to read it over several times and was hit right in the feels... I want to know what happens! Really hoping nothing bad happened to Malik nor the writer.