Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt. 6

[asscreedkinkmeme]

Assassin's Creed Kink Meme pt.6
Open

Sky World

≈ 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
#3 (Delicious.com) Archive <-- Currently active
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Fills Only
Discussion

Comments

M Commentbox’d drabble 2/3 i swear this time guise WARNING SNUFF(?)

[(Anonymous)]

i meant “doesn’t even count as a drabble” as in its too short but this is just normal. fuck me
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“waiting” a couple seconds between leaping from cover to cover took agonizingly long. Sibrand was right there. Right there, and intensely aware that /so was Altaïr./
Finally, Altaïr pushed off the last piling, catching the ridged side of the boat with his fingers and scraping the finish off of the tips of his boots. His feet scrambled for but a few seconds for leverage - Altaïr could do nothing if not climb - and in those few seconds his hips hit the side of the boat, dick first. Hard dick first, at that. His fingers curled for a second, and he pressed himself flat to the hull in pain, willing himself to keep it up.
Indeed, he was trying to maintain it. The post mission chase, all those guards, Malik, then a “nap” or “cleaning his blades”, had become Altaïr’s routine. At first it was just after a fight, or a spar with a particularly handsome friend; no one could not fault him for naturally having hot blood. He was an Assassin; a warrior. A blade in the crowd. Anyone who did not enjoy a bit of combat would be serving as a scholar or an informant at Altaïr’s point in life. Then it became particularly interesting fights with his enemies, mostly guards at first, someone who could actually keep up with him. There was no validation more visceral than to cut down anyone who could come close to his skill. Malik had always been a grade above him, but (in one of the few ways he felt shame) Altaïr had very much taken note of how his loss had evened the playing field between them.
It was only a matter of time before he spurted - just a little - every time he killed a target. Another threat, removed. Another word of praise earned from Al Mualim. Blood all over himself. The thought was quite revitalizing.
Altaïr climbed over the ship’s rail a little too eagerly.
Sibrand whirled around, eyes aflame.
“No... NO! YOU WON’T KILL ME!”
His voice shrieked loud enough to alert every guard that had missed Altaïr’s arrival.
He sprinted for the gangplank, pushing one of his own men off it and into the water in his haste. Nice.
Altaïr put every ounce of frantic desire into his legs, making up for each lost second Sibrand feinted left or shoved a guard into Altaïr’s right.
Sibrand had planned this out, his escape, having trusted no one to do their jobs correctly. Each part fell into place and each part failed to account for just how badly Altaïr needed him dead, now.
“WHY CAN’T YOU LEAVE ME BE!?”
Altaïr didn’t answer. He let his actions speak for him.
He aimed to get Sibrand by the neck; a quick, professional strike. The quick stab at his spine turned into a slash at the side of the knight’s neck, blood spraying dazzlingly in the air as he twisted and clapped a hand over the wound. The sun glinted such a particular way over his blade, smooth and so, so sharp. The twisting motion of Sibrand’s arm turned his front to face Altaïr in the last moment before Altaïr would end him. A drop of blood got in his eye. The world stained red, but the blood did not sting. He looked right into Sibrand’s terribly blue eyes as he twisted his hidden blade just past the arm protectively clasping his neck and through his jugular. They both fell, Sibrand back and Altaïr forwards, but there was a strange moment where everything seemed to hang in the air.
Altaïr got it. Of course Sibrand was terrified of him. He walked with death, brought her everywhere, lusted after her in stolen moments and vivid dreams.
Something jolted through his system. Altaïr could not tell if his boots had hit the ground or his hands had hit Sibrand’s dying body. His vision was whited out for a terrible few seconds longer than his hearing, but on sound alone, he noticed the Teuton bearing down on him from the Guard Tower and pressed his numb limbs into action.

Commentbox’d drabble 3/3 “

[(Anonymous)]

They fell together, and there was a lightning shooting down Altaïr’s spine; blood on his face; a gurgled scream in his ears; and it was all too much, so much, that he just thrust his blade deeper into Sibrand’s throat, out to the other side. Dreamily, Altaïr pulled it out of him, not hearing the soft /shlick/ as it was dislodged enough to retract back into the bracer. He sat on his kill for a moment, enjoying the pleasant nothing ringing in his head. But it could not last forever. He pushed himself off what was once Sibrand, pausing to sloppily bat his wound with a clean feather, and started a loose jog to the closest rooftop. He cast a quick glace behind him; the knight that had witnessed the final blow was staring back, motionless. Honestly, Altaïr wouldn’t want to fight a horny copy of himself either.
He steadily increased his pace, and as feeling came back to Altaïr’s limbs, the unsteadiness in his gait left him and he put his mind towards getting back to the bureau as quickly as possible. The air breezed past his skin, pleasantly cool mist making him feel almost damp.
It was not just his skin that was damp. Had the hull of the boat been that wet? He had a sinking feeling.
He did a mental itinerary of himself, and yes, his boner was gone. Not because he had suddenly had a change of taste, no, the spunk slowly gluing his bush to his smallclothes was proof that he was as perverted as ever.
This would certainly be a long chase home.

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teutonic knights more like TOOT ON ICKY KNIGHTS AHA OHO UHUHUHAHA!!!!!!!!
fisq is cool, la yahmni.
also op if yr still out there. Do you want me to write about altair getting an improptu bikini wax or is just the cumming in the pants the part you jack it to? i know some people like watersports bc of the discomfort and public humiliation aspect, is that your deal too? I could keep going, but i would like some attention pls
The captcha was “4+3” and i failed it .