asscreedkinkmeme | Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt.2

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assassin's creed

Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt.2

Assassin's Creed Kink Meme pt.2
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Welcome to the Brotherhood

∆ 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.

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List of Kinks
(Livejorunal) Archive
#2 (Livejournal) Archive
(Delicious.com) Archive
(Dreamwidth) Archive <- Currently active
Part 1
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Fills Only
Discussion

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The former snorted, and the latter could not stifle a laugh that complimented the mighty clap to his back.

Which had—somehow, if he could stand straight—him staring into the eyes of the last fucker he had ever wanted to see.

Moloch smugly leered at him. "Well, well, well: What coincidence is this?" he drawled, placing his meaty hands on the table, hands that were all too close to the region Malik never wanted him to touch, if he was not appalled by his mere presence, at all. "It's been a while, right?"

Some inmates who were seated near the line perked their heads up in interest at the baritone voice, knowing that "The Bull" was one of those people you never fucked with, only get fucked by. Malik hid his scowl, though feigning neutrality was much more difficult than reining in the urge to throw the shitty food in the other's face—he could feel the watchful yet menacing states of his companions, and the shift in disposition provided a bit of relief to him, although the dilemma still pressed into his head, like a torturous migraine. Fisting the ladle, he snapped his head to the side and scooped up more of the mystery meat, attempting to dunk it into the metal plate and get it over with.

But Moloch had other plans.

"Come, why are you turning that pretty little face, hm? Indulge a man."

Malik withdrew his hand and did not look.

And the fingers that gripped his jaw were like ice.

Sardonically chuckling, "The Bull" wrenched his face to the font and grinned, much to the rampant amusement that flooded around the entire cafeteria, seeming to feed off of the excited chatter and looks of great interest. His heavy breathing gusted over Malik's ear as he widened his sign of pleasure, and the latter had to bite back a growl, as well as bile that rose to the back of his tongue. Damn the implied laws that were set in stone, aside from his status: He was not that same "fresh meat" from last year, but it still grinded his gears to know that all he could do was back off as best as he could, unless he wanted to get into deep shit. The very thought of his futile struggle winning the desire to punch the fatass' lights out had his fingers locked around the kitchen utensil—not even Bartolommeo and Shaun could have done much, particularly when the physical and social matters clashed into one big mess.

"Impressive; should I have you drop your pants for me, right here, right now?" the older male continued, his ego inflating as the inmates around him snickered satirically at Malik's state. "You would love a fucker's cock up your virgin ass, bitch." A smirk. "I bet you think about cock all the damn time."

Someone from Moloch's gang—since when did they arrive?—jeered at the bruise that was now forming on the line of his jaw. "Probably loves cum more than water."

Another: "That fucking slut."

"Isn't he a damn virgin?"

"No: I swear he begs to get fucked every night."

"I bet he'd love to have four dicks in his asshole."

"Who knows; perhaps, you would love it more."

The entire cafeteria fell dead silent at the sound of a single voice.

Curling his fingers into a fist, Malik resisted the urge to break free of the vice grip on his chin, knowing that the pain and raucous was not worth it, because the source of pressure allowed the light tap of his Converse to wreak havoc.

Or possibly save his fucking ass.

"Remove your hand."

Altair Ibn La-Ahad, the most notoriously known inmate that not even court could pull shit on, stepped forward and was suddenly in front of "The Bull" sans a hitch in his stride, his disposition unreadable; however, judging from Malik's experiences with the infamous man that had seized hold of him the minute he saw him, something obscured, something vital, something carnal, bled from his eyes as he leveled his gaze on them—and he wanted to claim liberty as much as he felt the clear threat the other imbued. Those obsessed looks of part anticipation and horror were not only fixated on him, with all his fucked up glory; they were hungry, now ravenous, for Number 5,294 to either sow the shit, or get the shit bitchslapped back to him.

Which, Malik noted, was unlikely to happen.

Because Moloch may have been the biggest man he had ever seen, but his brain apparently left his sorry ass the moment he took his first breath, and he did not have a single sliver of cognizance at the slanting of Altair's gaze, whatsoever; because Moloch was tightening his hold on his damn jaw, as if he could make Malik his ho by displaying his possessiveness; because Shaun and Bartolommeo were somehow backing up for some reason; because he could see Ezio and Federico out of the corner of his eyes, their casual states still not enough to cover what seemed to be aggression at the scene; because Malik couldn't fucking breathe in the tension.

Because Altair moved.

"Unless you want it gone."

And it was fucking over.

Over.

So, Malik blinked.

To see Moloch.

On the floor.

And blood.

And Officers.

And Altair.

"Yes?"

Altair.

"Malik."

"Get the fuck down!"

"Security 60FJ; Ibn La-Ahad!"

"All of you! On your knees!"

Altair.

"Shit!"

Altair.

"Malik."

Altair.

"I am right here."

Wordlessly, Malik dropped the ladle into the vat of mystery meat and only perceived his legs moving over to where Altair was—unnoticing of the uproar in the entire cafeteria, every entrance and window mechanically barred to the sound of outrage, not even the fact that he had voiced the damn martyr's name aloud, like he was drunk off his mind, like he was desperate. He did not realize Shaun and Bartolommeo, who were later joined by Desmond and William, holding the random guards and chaotic inmates at bay as he numbly tripped over Moloch's body and stumbled over to Altair, somehow calm, even when the room had become a warzone. Over and over, he only saw the other: not the twenty guards restraining him, not the idea of him possibly dying from some retarded attack, not even the sudden presence of the head wardens roaring at all of the fuckers to stay their asses.

Just the mundane voice of that idiot.

"I am here," he amazingly heard. "Malik."

"Altair." Damn, since when did he get here? "Altair."

He almost wanted to punch him when the other merely sharpened his eyes and clenched his teeth, lingering all too long on his face. "Your jaw: It will bruise." A curse. "I should have come here sooner."

"Shut the fuck up, La-Ahad! Get on your damn knees!"

"It's about Inmate 923, sir; he's dead."

"Fucking bastard!"

"Altair."

"Did anything else happen?"

"Altair."

"Did he … touch you?"

"Altair."

"It seems as if that retribution wasn't enough."

"Get the Auditore!"

"Damn fuckers!"

"Did he—"

"Altair."

Malik grabbed Altair.

Pressed his lips against the other's.

And allowed the roar to create their own silence.

Silence, he found out, somehow able to touch the curve of the fool's cheek with fingers that were definitely not trembling, that rang louder than the fray around them: But Malik couldn't have given a damn at the moment, not when he pushed his mouth to Altair's without words, something initiated on his part for the first time, without the ability to say anything, at all. He expected the response to be aching, turbulent, primal, as was all their heated exchanges had come out to be, but when the latter simply applied the slightest pressure that had his head spinning, he dropped to his knees, and his eyes finished off the distractions that were now restraining his own form.

Fuck, he wanted to yell: to demand why the other had acted to brashly when he knew about things—very fucked up things—that happened everyday, what even the most "protected" inmates could not avoid; because Altair Ibn La-Ahad was a damn idiot that had not let him go, ever since Malik had seen him the first time he stepped foot into the prison. That had to be it.

Or Malik would not have perceived his gut lurching forward at the quirk of scarred lips.

"That was worth the wait, Malik."

"We got him! Open cell 54KD!"

"It's open."

"Altair."

Altair displayed his satisfaction, satisfaction that was meant for him only. "If I had known that something like this would make you do that to me, I would have gotten rid of that bastard sooner."

"Get him in!"

If only he could breathe. "Altair, you dumb fuck."

A laugh.

"Your welcome, Malik."

"Now!"

"Your welcome."

And later, as Malik stared up at the cracked ceiling in his cell, after he had been reassured by Ezio that no one, not even God, was able to do anything to the "Old Fucker", he realized that he could solely shake his head.

Smoke his cigarette.

And grin, as if he was the greatest idiot in the world.

Since, looking back, if anyone told Malik that his life was fucked up to the negative degree in every single aspect:

He would have told them to stop smoking camel shit, and eat it, instead.

Because he was completely fucked up.

And he already knew that.

HOLY SHIT, WRITER!ANON. HOLY SHIT.

If I were a director, I would make this a short flim because the way you execute the scenes... I just... I feel like I'm watching a movie even though I'm reading.

Especially love the scene when all Hell breaks loose. For some reason, I imagined everything around Altaïr and Malik happening in slow-motion, but they themselves would be in normal time. And there would be a zoom-in of their kiss, with Malik's trembling fingers... and just... yes.

And as Altaïr is being dragged away, everything goes back to real time and cue black screen until Malik is in his cell, just smoking and grinning.

I'm not OP but my god, I couldn't be more satisfied. I tip my hat to you, kind anon.

XD Grazie.

LOL, THAT WAS EXACTLY WHAT I WAS TRYING TO CONVEY, THE SLOW-MOTION THINGY.

When I started to write the scene where people went apeshit, I intended to have Malik fight also, but ... realistically, he would've just been shocked that Moloch was dead.

Ho-ly crap. I didn't expect to like this as much as I did-- I'm not very fond of the subject matter, having done a research paper on it-- but, argh, this was so engaging and fun to read. Malik's voice was enjoyable in all its dry wit and glory, not to mention all the little character cameos hanging in the background. (Bartolomeo! Eee!)

Excellent, excellent job, writeanon! Will read again!

Haha, thanks. Prison matters are also touchy for me, since I did research on it, too, but there are always .... (maybe) moments like these.

Damn. I feel like this is a scene from "Oz".

Jesus fucking christ anon you deserve a fucking medal for this fill. I haven't played AC1 in a while so some of the cameos were a little "whut?" for me at first but just god damn anyways.

Insanely cool and in control Altair has officially become my favorite Altair.

That's the main way I see Altair, cool, observant, not like his original state.

Haha, Shalim and Moloch were from "Bloodlines", and to be honest, I would have forgotten about their sorry asses, if I didn't play said game again. XD

This was seriously amazing! As the other anon said - it reads like it's a movie playing out in front of your eyes and it's all very intense. I love the way you included so many people. I'm a very happy OP!anon right now!

Thanks so much, OP. :D I thought I had taken this a tad too far, but as long as you like it, then I am happy.

I definitely watched "Let's Go to Prison" too many times.

MY GOD ANON. THAT WAS BEAUTIFUL. I swear, I squeed so hard when Altair came over. Agh, and then like everyone rushing around, and the other guy DEAD and Malik's all...."Altair." GAH! I can't even convey how amazing this is. The imagery was wonderful, it was like I was THERE. Beautiful, beautiful. :D

Oh, thank you. This is the longest AxM I've ever written, LOL. Not to mention, I'm quite inexperienced with this pairing, but judging from your reaction, I think I did a good job. :D

(Now, I feel like a narcissist. -_- Errgghh)

It was just long enough, too! You did an amazing job! I hope to see more of your writing on here, writeranon! :D

Hot damn Altair's a badass.

This anon (yet another one) loves the visual quality of your writing.

Gracias, gracias. XD

If I ever went to prison, I would've gladly been Altair's bitch, LOL.

Oh man, Altair's a badass!

Gah, I hope I portrayed him as one! Hopefully, I did, though I didn't elaborate on his history. His actions suffice, I guess. :D

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Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt.2

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