asscreedkinkmeme (
asscreedkinkmeme) wrote2012-10-29 11:35 pm
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Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt. 5
Assassin's Creed Kink Meme pt.5
Fill Only
Fill Only
Join or Die
✩ 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 4
Fills Only
Discussion
Re: Author!Anon Old 'Fill': Maybe Not Part 4 of 6
(Anonymous) 2013-02-12 04:28 pm (UTC)(link)Six months later, Altair was in Acre, he heard that Malik had succeeded at his trail to become an assassin.
Two years passed before he saw Malik again and Altair had spent the last year in France, sent by Al Mualim who wished for him to gather information about an artifact, something like a treasure, which the Templar were looking for, and his master had the suspicion that it wouldn't take them much longer to find it. Finally, at the age of twenty, he came back to Masyaf and had been promoted to Master-Assassin. It was the first time for a man that young of age to gain the title and he felt proud. And as much as he wished for Malik to be at his side in that moment, he hadn't been there.
A few weeks after his promotion it was in the middle of the night when he returned from a mission back to his chambers in Masyaf and when he opened his door, he saw a figure sitting on his bed. Within the blink of an eye his hands found the hilt of a throwing knife but before he could throw them, the figure started to speak.
"You're back." It was Malik and his voice was quiet. Altair let his hands down and shut the door behind him. It was full moon and a cloudless night and the silver light fell through his windows into his small chambers and put Malik's face in shadows.
"Obviously", Altair replied and leaned with his back at the door.
"Congratulations", said Malik and rose. He stood still in front of the bed. "I've heard that you're a master now."
Altair starred at him through the darkness and the memories of their last meeting back in Jerusalem were so near that he almost thought it had been yesterday.
"The youngest master-assassin Masyaf has ever seen. You must be proud."
"Indeed." Altair took one step in front of him and found that the white robes of an assassin looked good on Malik. He pulled his fingerless gloves from every single digit. The stump, where one his ring-finger had been, had ceased to hurt a long time ago.
"Al Mualim spoke to me", Malik explained to him. "Kadar and I shall come with you to Jerusalem next week."
"That I've heard." Altair's voice sounded cold and he didn't know why a lump of ice had built inside his stomach. In the past two years he had missed Malik more than ever before and now, so suddenly, Malik stood in front of him and his face and voice showed no emotion. Maybe, so he thought, because in the meantime he had watched so many of his brothers die. Altair had let go of the people who were dear to him with every single death he had witnessed, . He had left the past behind him, but he had also forgot about it. Maybe, just maybe, he had put Malik's advice into practice too good – more than he had intended to. Altair had cut right through the strings that had them connected within their friendship. He could see vaguely how Malik smiled.
"Kadar is excited. I told him that it's an honor to fight by your side."
Altair scoffed and his hands closed and opened rhythmically. "Of course it is", was his reply and his voice was full of arrogance.
Malik took one step nearer to him and stopped at arm's length in front of him. "Altair, may I ask you a question?"
Altair nodded barely.
"Is this the life you had hoped for? At least you earned the glory we both wished for when we were children."
Altair lifted his head and glared at him. Malik's question pulled him right back into the past and he was angry, because in the last two years he had tried so hard to get rid of it, to forget everything that had happened and just look forward. Why did Malik do this to him for he knew how hard it had been for him? "Wishes and hopes don't have a place in my life anymore, Malik, therefore it doesn't matter if my hopes are fulfilled or not."
Malik starred at his feet as he heard Altair's words. "You have changed, my friend", he told him quietly and didn't dare to look at Altair. "I just hope our friendship hasn't."
Altair glared at him. "Hope will be your downfall. Don't be a fool."
Malik took a silent breath and took a step around Altair, his hand upon the door-handle, but he didn't push it down just yet. "I can see the sacrifices you've made to become a master, Altair. Unfortunately it seems that I am among them."
And before he could push down the handle Altair grasped his arms
and threw him onto the bed. With his back against the mattress Malik kept still as he starred in shock at Altair, who pushed one of his knees next to his hip and hovered above him. "Don't put false words into my mouth, Malik. Weren't you the one who told me to live in the Here and Now? Well, I did nothing but that and in my last year in France I finally understood that the people I hold dear are nothing more than moments who fly by and shatter as easily as glass." His breath came erratic and brushed over Malik's face.
"Tell me", Malik started and looked up at him, "do you regret those moments." His last words, not a question but a statement. And Altair felt such hate at that moment that he thought he was burned alive.
"The only thing I regret is what I had swore to you three years ago."
Within the next few seconds after he had spoken the words that had ate at him for years, Altair saw that Malik understood. Back then when he was sixteen and Malik had been eighteen and had just come back after almost two years, they had crept their way out of the fortress. Altair could almost see the images of those moments play behind Malik's eyes.
"I missed you", he had said and was surprised at the words. He never would had thought he was capable to show such weakness. He'd never felt stronger. Malik had been sitting next to him, his head tilted back to watch the stars.
"Yeah... me too", he had said after a while and Altair almost didn't dare to look at him as he had turned around to face him.
"Have you killed someone yet?" For a moment Altair had heard how Malik's breath stopped his face an emotionless mask. His fingers had pulled out the grass underneath him while he waited for the older boy to find the right words to give him an answer. The crickets had chirped and a gust of wind tousled Altair's hair. He had waited.
"I have."
The words had been a whisper just the breath of a long fainted memory.
On an open field they had been surprised by a thunderstorm and together they had run through rain to a small stable to seek shelter. Out of breath and soaked to the bones they had laid next to each other while the goats behind them were bleating in surprise. His hands had been laying on his stomach as he had waited for his breath to settle. It had been dark as he heard the raindrops fell on the roof. Straw was tickling him as he had heard Malik lying next to him breathing fast and he had turned on his side. With every second his eyesight got better and soon he saw the outlines of Malik sprawled on the floor next to him. The first thunderbolts had been tearing through the sky and illuminated the night. With every flash Altair had watched to droplets of rain falling from Malik's hair running down his throat. He had felt the heat starting in his cheeks traveling further down his body to collect in his lower stomach.
It had been the same heat he had felt whenever he had watched the men practicing with their swords inside the training's circle. When their chests had been bare, sweat running down their stomachs Altair had had a... hard time to cover his embarrassment. He remembered when he had been fifteen, and Al Mualim had taught him how a man was able to bless a woman with a baby. He had asked him if it were also possible for two men to seek each other's affinity. He had been told that it was a sin, blasphemy and would be punished with death. He had asked himself for a long time what were wrong with him. Why he had such thoughts when he had laid in his bed at night his mind traveling to regions that were forbidden. It was then that Altair had remembered the Creed.
Nothing is true.
Everything is permitted.
He couldn't hold back any longer. He had kissed the other boy as he had propped himself on his elbows and leaned over. It had been innocent, really, just a brush of lips against lips. Malik had been surprised and pushed him back, out of breath, but Altair had seen the blush on his face. For a few seconds nothing had happened, but when the first thunder rolled above their heads through the night, Malik had took him by the shoulders and pushed him into the straw and his lips had found his. It was a kiss, a full-blown kiss with tongue and teeth. His jaw had been forced open when Malik had hold his face between his hands, his thumb pressing down. Within seconds Altair had lost the control and their hands roamed over each others bodies. It had almost looked like a fight when they stripped themselves of their shirts and Malik had cursed under his breath while Altair wasn't able to form any words. They had been laying next to each other with bare chests. One of Malik's legs was draped over Altair's while he was hovering above him. His hands had loosened his trousers, his fingers eager to disappear into them.
Malik's tongue and teeth had found the juncture of Altair's neck where it joined his shoulder and he knew that this wasn't the first time Malik had done something like that. Jealousy tore through his body like the thunderbolts in the sky as Altair asked himself who it had been Malik had shared this with.
Re: Author!Anon Old 'Fill': Maybe Not Part 5 of 6
(Anonymous) 2013-02-12 04:29 pm (UTC)(link)His flesh went slowly limp inside Malik's hand while he was starring at him. He had laid there, gasping and feeling the wet on his stomach. It took him a while as he was still overcome with the strength of his orgasm, but when he had moved again and looked down at his body he saw and felt Malik's arousal pressing against his thigh. With trembling fingers he had touched the boy's trousers and opened them slowly as he had looked Malik in the eye. For the first time in his life Altair had touched another man. Not just a man but his best friend. The excitement he felt was almost too much to bare. His breath hitched. He had licked his lips as they had went dry and Malik used the opportunity to give him another kiss. This time though it had been more gentle, a slowly but intense kiss that grew with every second. He hadn't dare to look down as he had started to stroke Malik and he had felt awkward when he had hold him inside his hand. After all this had been very new to him but Altair was certain when this was over he wanted to do it over and over again. With Malik.
It took Malik longer than Altair to achieve his climax and Altair thought it was because he had been far more experienced than him. It had made him feel a little embarrassed. But at least it didn't took a thought or dream anymore for him to come without touching himself at all. Malik's breath had brushed his face and he had heard the soft moans and groans right next to his ear. Somehow it had made him feel proud that it was him, Altair, who could bring Malik to make such sounds. It was then that he had decided to hear those sounds again. That he wanted to kiss Malik again. That maybe next time they could do more – but for now this was enough.
When Malik had come and Altair had felt his semen covering his hand, the other boy had rolled off of him and laid on his back, panting while one of his arms covered his eyes. The thunderstorm had moved on and for a moment the only thing they could hear were their erratic breaths and the chirping of the crickets outside. The goats moved behind them, chewing and bleating. Reality had come slowly back to Altair with every breath he took.
His body felt loose and relaxed and the heat that had rushed through his body went slowly away. Instead it had been replaced with something else, something dark and cold. It was called remorse. What they had done were wrong and even though Altair didn't thought that something that had felt that wonderful could be bad, he knew that in the eyes of all the others he and Malik were godless sinners. It could mean his death. He could die for what they had done. He would never become an assassin, he wouldn't die in battle. No. They would stone him to death like if he was nothing more than an animal.
But – it had felt wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. And wasn't it the creed that told him nothing was true? Everything was permitted? Those few minutes he had laid next to Malik, panting and satisfied he had felt at peace. For the first time in his life he had felt at peace and close to the world, unique, complete and free, alive. When he had laid in Malik's arms time had stood still and the only thing he had felt was his heart beating wildly inside his chest. One moment of absolute bliss. He had been one, one with the world and everything that had troubled him was gone.
No. Something as beautiful as this couldn't be bad, couldn't be a sin. Not this. Not love.
In the end it had been Altair who spoke first. "Malik-" but he didn't came any further as he felt how Malik had grabbed his throat and wrapped his finger around it, but he didn't yet add pressure to his hold.
His face had been only inches away from that of Altair. "If you're thinking about to tell anyone about this then I will cut your throat, I swear! It was wrong Altair, a sin! We are both men,
we shouldn't have done that. Swear to me you won't speak about this ever again!" And Altair had starred at him with wide eyes, confused and hurt, but when Malik's fingers pressed down he forced the answer between his lips that should change everything.
"I swear! Malik, I can't breath, I swear! Do you hear me?" And Malik had let go of him, stood up and pulled on his shirt. He had just left.
Now in his chamber in Masyaf Altair saw anger flashing behind Malik's eyes where he laid beneath him on the bed. "It was a sin, Altair", he told him and repeated the word he had spoken to him four years ago. "And still, when you had confessed to me that you prefer men instead of women I hold onto our friendship in those years we spent apart. I've never judged you for your blasphemous choice and I've never told anyone."
The back of Altair's hand met Malik's cheek and the force of it throw his head to the side. Immediately Malik's eyes found those of Altair and he starred at him angrily, his face nothing but an ugly mask. "How dare you-"
"How dare you to lie at my face!", Altair scoffed and interrupted him. "You've never judged me because of our friendship or out of pity, but because you feel the same!" Altair's hands grabbed his wrists and pinned them to the mattress as Malik tried to get up. "Since that night in the stable you've treated me differently and made sure not to come near me and you were very successful with it; to be honest you were so successful that we've hardly see each other in years."
Malik's face went soft and he looked at Altair intense. "It was a mistake. I shouldn't have returned the affection like I did then. And I am sorry when I gave you false hopes, but even if I would feel the same as you, what would happened then? Would we have left the order to live in shame? Always hiding from the looks of the other, from the eyes of god? When you truly believe that then it was a mistake by Al Mualim to pronounce you an assassin, a master even, and then you're nothing more than a dumb farmer's boy."
Altair let go of one of his wrists and he lifted his hand and closed it to a fist and for half a second he thought about punching Malik in the face, over and over gain. But he didn't do anything and instead stay bent over the other man's face. His lower lip quivered and he felt the rush he felt before he performed the final blow upon one of his targets. But this man underneath him wasn't one of his targets, but the man that was his best friend during childhood and he hated himself for that.
"You can't blame me all alone, Altair. You've tried to run away from this as well."
Altair listened attentively and with trembling fingers he lowered his fist. "Was that – a confession?"
But Malik snorted at the question. "So arrogant, you only hear what you want to hear, Altair. No, it wasn't. Now let me go."
But Altair didn't let go, instead he just starred down at Malik and he suddenly understood. It laid in front of him, all he had to do was to outstretch his fingers and take it. "You are right", Altair said and his voice was merely a whisper, "I was on the run. But only because I couldn't accept the facts. I didn't understand it." He got up and took a step away from the bed, so that Malik could get up as well and he sat on the bed. He rubbed his wrists. "Do you remember, two years ago, the beggar I told you about? He had asked me if I was afraid and I told him 'no'. You knew it back then, Malik. It was a lie. I was afraid, a lot. I was afraid to die during a mission and regret my life. All those years I believed I would regret trying to forget our night together. No, I realize that it wasn't true. I do not fear anymore. I don't have anything to regret, you made very clear that there's nothing to do so." He turned away from Malik. "I just hope that one day we're both free. Maybe not with a look. Maybe not with words. But with our mind." It was silent for a very long time and the minutes passed. At some point Altair heard the rustling of fabric and Malik's steps behind him. He didn't see it when Malik pushed down the handle of his door, only heard it closing behind the man and Altair finally let loose the tears that had backed up behind the lump in his throat while he had lied to Malik.
Re: Author!Anon Old 'Fill': Maybe Not Part 6 of 6
(Anonymous) 2013-02-12 04:30 pm (UTC)(link)He had ridden back to Masyaf and had told Al Mualim about his failure. When Malik had suddenly appeared behind him his eyes full of hate as they starred at Altair, there was nothing left to feel. Neither pride nor regret or guilt. Everything that was left was emptiness that threatened to swallow him. He had followed his masters orders just like in trance and he didn't feel joy as he had put the Templar to flight to safe Masyaf. While Al Mualim had stood in front of him two assassins to each side of Altair having a hold of him, all he could think about was how he could suppress the tears and Altair, the arrogant, stoic Master-Assassin, came back in all its glory to hide his true feelings.
The knife hit him unexpected. To his surprise he didn't feel the pain. A figure caught his eye and he looked up to see Malik standing in one of the windows of the fortress, watching him. It was the last he saw as his surroundings suddenly fell into ruin like a shattered sheet of glass. The colors turned into black and white and the shapes of Al Mualim in front of him and of the two guards to his sides vanished. Suddenly he found himself in an empty white room. For a brief seconds he thought it was what death felt like but then he could hear a woman's voice from far away.
"His heart's rate is critical! We have to get him out of that, now!"
Everything went black and suddenly there were hands all over his body, pulling and shaking him.
"Clay?! Clay, can you hear me?"
It was the voice of the woman and Altair opened his eyes. He starred at her face hovering above him, he blonde hair framing it.
"Clay, please, say something, anything." She kept talking to him and he knew it was English, but it just didn't made any sense. Nothing made any sense anymore.
"Let go of me", he shouted at her and pulled away from the hands. For the first time he spotted his surroundings, a white room and next to him stood a man, wearing white clothes. He was laying on a strange table and he saw things he couldn't believe. "What is this sorcery?", he demanded to know and rose to a sitting position. He looked down his body, but his white assassin's robes were gone. He wore strange clothes made from material he had never seen before. He caught his breath when his glance got to his hands. He had ten fingers.
"Clay, I don't speak Arabic. You have to speak English with me." He could hear the worry in hear voice.
Clay?
What a strange name but at the same time he felt something inside him move as he repeated the foreign word inside his head. He stood up hastily and his legs almost gave away, he had to hold onto the table to not fall.
"Maybe you should lay down. You've spent a long time in the Animus. Come on, I help you."
He understood her words although she had an odd accent but they didn't make any sense. He felt like as if he was inside a dream and could only watch. He felt a hand on his arm and for the blink of an eye a movie started to play inside his head and showed him the life of a child that grew from a boy to a man and he saw and heard things, foreign things, which he didn't know and didn't have words for. Everything happened so fast. But his legs started to move by their own as he was lead into another room with a bed inside.
"Get some rest", the woman told him in a kind voice as he suddenly knew that her name was Lucy. How he knew her name he couldn't tell. He let her help him into the bed and as she pulled a blanket over his body he saw how the man from before also entered the room holding a strange looking device with a long thin needle at one end in his hands
"He will sleep better with this", he heard him say and watched helpless how he bent down and exposed his right arm. He saw but couldn't feel how the needle disappeared beneath his skin. Seconds later he felt his lids grow heavy, his eyes closed on their own and he was pulled into a dreamless sleep while his last thoughts went to Malik.
He regretted it.
"Clay has killed himself."
"I know. That bounces us back with our progress, but we could gather a lot of information's through him."
"We left him too long in the Animus, Dr. Vidic. I believe he thought he was Altair. He had spoken Arabic, damn it! It was the fucking Bleeding Effect!"
"Ms. Stillmann, when your emotions are getting in the way of your work I begin to wonder if you're the right person for this kind of job after all."
"N-No, Sir. No... It's just that-"
"Good. Subject seventeen has already arrived. I would say we begin with the memories where we left off with subject sixteen. I suggest we should skip those, well, emotional moments and focusing on those who are important to us in the future."
"You've already found a new ancestor?"
"Indeed. His name is Desmond Miles."
Re: Author!Anon Old 'Fill': Maybe Not Part 6 of 6
O-|-< still remains to be one of my favorite altmal fics like you have no idea how much i really just love this fic....the emotion and dialogue and the way they act is really great and THAT END UGH GOD DAMN THAT END IS SO GOOD....