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asscreedkinkmeme) wrote2010-09-13 08:44 pm
asscreedkinkmeme) wrote2010-09-13 08:44 pm
Entry tags:
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.
∆ 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
(Livejorunal) Archive
#2 (Livejournal) Archive
(Delicious.com) Archive
(Dreamwidth) Archive <- Currently active
Part 1
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Fills Only
Discussion
Visions of Eden [2/?] (First part above!)
(Anonymous) 2011-02-19 06:08 am (UTC)(link)---
“Altair?” There was a question in the name, as if asking if Altair was actually there. No movement came and those eyes did not glance away for a minute. Again, he called out to the man. “Altair?” His voice grew sterner, because this was all such nonsense. It was completely ridiculous that such an insignificant little thing, even if others claimed it to be a wonderful instrument of the gods, could do such a thing to Altair. In truth, it was pathetic, and Malik was fed up with trying to keep the Brotherhood in Order. “Altair?” He asked, one more time, irritated, but polite. He waited a few more seconds only to have the same reply of nothing answer him just as before.
“God damn it, Altair, snap out of it!” He yelled, reaching out to grab the glowing orb, but before he could reach it, a hand snapped out and grabbed his wrist, crushing it in a grip that almost resembled a piece of what the Master Assassin used to be. And, for a second, Malik saw that old spark again, as those eyes finally turned towards him in a sharp, undying, glare. It disappeared just as soon as it came.
“What do you want?” Altair said. His voice was dry and cracked, probably from lack of water and so little use in such a long time. At first, it didn’t even sound like him. Just an empty shell of what the man used to be; everything his mind left behind when it left.
Malik yanked his hand back, but the grip did not give in and only tightened further, threatening much more then simple bruises. Even so, Malik did not show the slightest sign of pain and only returned the hard glare that was given to him. His seemed more solid, because Altair’s eyes seemed to be shifting, back and forth, looking at something past Malik that only he could see.
“I said, ‘What do you want?’” The Master barked, refocusing on Malik and the topic at hand. The Apple was still held tight in his other hand, humming and pulsing with every word spoken.
“I want you to let go of the Apple.” Malik simply snapped back. Anger was a good emotion; Malik could deal with anger. Most of his life had been lived in anger, a great deal of that directed at the man now staring him down. “Stop playing this game.” He demanded, curling his held hand into a fist.
Such an answer did not seem to go over well in Altair’s fogged mind. For a moment, the mist cleared and he looked down at the device, quizzically, as if wondering what exactly Malik had been talking about, then he looked up again, that clouded look came back in his eyes (death. That’s what it was like, the look of death) and Altair smiled. This, above all else, set Malik on edge. It was a surprising reaction compared to the anger before and, for a second; Malik became frightened by the look, taking a step back. Altair let him go, the hand falling from his grasp. His gaze turned down towards the apple once more.
“Do you know what this is, Malik?” The voice was soft, distant. It froze Malik’s feet to the ground, enabling him to move from that spot. A soft bout of laughter emitted from Altair’s throat. It was short and sickening, sensing chills down Malik’s body, making him shudder. “It’s a beautiful little thing, you know, and I think I’m finally figuring it out.” Altair’s head snapped up; Malik saw insanity in those eyes. He cringed. That smile grew even wider. “Would you like to see what I have found out? I’m sure you’ll love it.”
He couldn’t move, he couldn’t breath, and Malik did not want to know what that apple did. He simply wanted to take it, wrap it up, and hide it away so Altair may never find it again. It was driving the assassin to the point of breaking—if not, he already had.
“It shows me things, of the future, I think, things not written down yet…” That’s when Altair shifted, he was moving, rising from the desk to walk over to Malik, still frozen in the middle of the floor, jaw clenched shut, trying so desperately to say ‘no’, but failing on every attempt.
The Master Assassin was in front of him, still smiling that wicked smile and that unnatural golden spark in his eyes. The apple still glowing in his hands. He was smiling. Smiling. And then he laughed. “Here, let me show you.” And forced the apple into Malik’s open hand.
Re: Visions of Eden [2/?] (First part above!)
(Anonymous) 2011-02-19 02:53 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Visions of Eden [2/?] (First part above!)
(Anonymous) 2011-02-19 03:07 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Visions of Eden [2/?] (First part above!)
(Anonymous) 2011-02-19 09:38 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Visions of Eden [2/?] (First part above!)
(Anonymous) 2011-02-21 06:12 am (UTC)(link)---
If he could scream, he would have, but Malik’s voice appeared to be stolen from him at this moment. He tried to close his eyes, to simply refuse to look and see whatever horrors corrupted Altair’s mind, but even with his eyes shut and everything dark, the apple invaded his being. He felt some strange warmth crawl up his arm, unpleasant and unwanted, until it got to his head and felt as if he would soon be sick for no reason.
The images came next, entering his mind’s eye like a dagger to his heart. Slowly, at first, as beams of light that twisted in front of him, forming into colors and shapes until every little detail could be seen, the very essence of nightmares coming to life in his mind.
He saw images of burning builds with people still inside, screaming and crying out for help. He saw people killed and slaughtered in the streets, heard some sort of loud sirens off in the distance. The city before him was on fire, burning and sending smoke into the air, already black with a permanent night. It was of no place he had ever seen before and towered high into the air, as if trying to touch the heavens above. Trying, desperately, to get away from the hell below. People he couldn’t see were screaming, loud and clear, ringing in his ears. Children cried out as bones were broken and weapons he had never seen before echoed out in the night, in his ears, burned forever into his mind.
Malik shuttered and gasped, eyes shooting open in horror, though even with them open the visions didn’t stop. They simply mingled with his reality, showing him the fires and death as they touched his world, his home. The walls cracked and crumbled. Jars shattered. Thousands of voices spoke together, too loud in his ears, praying and crying and begging for death (something, anything, please, please! Just take the pain away!) and soon Malik found himself doing the same.
“Stop.”
He didn’t know when he fell to the floor, kneeling with wide eyes, streaking silent tears down his cheeks. The Apple still held in his hand, kept there by Altair’s grasp, forcing his hand closed on the golden orb. Malik’s head turned towards him, the visions and images distorting reality. Altair appeared with wings and horns, smiling down at him. A fire lighted on his held arm, burning him, shooting pain all through his body and he screamed, trying desperately to pull away. To stop these visions that were slowly driving him insane. Is this what Altair looked at every day? Is this the future that the Apple had shown him?
“Please stop.”
In real life, Altair was laughing. His grip tightening as Malik tried to pull away, refusing to let him go so easily.
“Please—stop this!”
It wasn’t until Malik’s body shook and he had broken out into a cold sweat. It wasn’t until he cried out and was ready to break his own wrist to get free. It wasn’t until he fell to the floor and sobbed that Altair let him go. Let his body crumble and took the Apple back, gently placing it back onto his desk where it sat, still glowing gold and humming softly; innocent.
The Master Assassin stepped forward, looking down at the broken Dai on the floor, smiling pleasantly at him. With a happy little sigh, he knelt down, wiping a stray tear from the man’s cheek. The only reaction he got was a slight flinch as his finger creased over tanned skin, but other than that, empty black eyes stared open and unblinking towards the wall, though Altair knew that was not what Malik saw.
“Ssshhh…” He whispered softly, petting the man’s hair. “I know, I know, it’s so horrible…” The words were delicate and calm, something Malik was unfamiliar with when it came to Altair. It sounded nothing like him, nothing at all, and that…that frightened him even more. Arms, stronger then they looked, wrapped around his waist and back, pulling him up off the floor to cradle him. Altair moved to sit on the bed, Malik pressed against his chest as he whispered soft-nothings to the limp man about how it was all going to be okay, how he’d get used to it, how, after a while, it isn’t so bad. And this, this above all else, upset Malik, because…because…something like this shouldn’t be okay. It isn’t right. And it’ll never be alright.
Guh. Third part above.
(Anonymous) 2011-02-21 06:13 am (UTC)(link)Re: Visions of Eden [2/?] (First part above!)
(Anonymous) 2011-02-21 06:23 am (UTC)(link)(*is OP*)
Re: Visions of Eden [2/?] (First part above!)
(Anonymous) 2011-02-21 06:26 am (UTC)(link)Visions of Eden [4/?]
(Anonymous) 2011-02-21 07:20 am (UTC)(link)“Sick fuck.” He said, taking a step away, because he wanted nothing to do with Altair right now. He wanted to get away and take a bath, though he knew no amount of scrubbing would ever cleanse his mind of what he had seen. Those images would stay with him forever, keeping him up at night, never to let him sleep in peace again. “You—sick fuck!” He said, louder this time, more assured of his words. Because everything about this was wrong. It was awful, disgusting, terribly, utterly, wrong. For a moment, Malik was at a loss of words, trying to figure out exactly how to describe his outrage, as there seemed to be too many words stuck on his tongue now and too little that described all the wrongs justly. After a few minutes of muttering and shaking with Altair sitting calming looking at him with those dead eyes, Malik’s tongue snapped to attention and returned to the sharp-forked weapon it was supposed to be.
“Bastard.” He began, hand curling into a fist as the shaking turned from being caused by fear into that caused by hate. Pure and utter hate that he had not felt for a long, long time. “How dare you say such things? That—that—“ He pointed a trembling finger at the Apple sitting on the desk, not finding the proper word for it (he considered ‘monster’ but felt that was more so Altair then the Apple itself). “That thing is evil.”
This caused some sort of reaction to stir in Altair’s eyes as his gaze sharpened and narrowed at the Dai. “The Apple shows the truth.”
“Blasphemy!” Malik snapped, feeling strength return to his body. “You go against the Creed now? ‘Nothing is true’, remember that Altair? Or has that device destroyed your mind so much you forgot who you are?”
Altair’s body tensed. His own fists curled. “I know who I am.”
“Are you sure? For the past few months almost no one has seen your face. And those who have earn scars for doing so! The novice’s believe the ‘Great Altair’ to be a ghost—some story of legend! You do not step out of this room anymore. I am the one that keeps the Order going; I’m the one that people are looking to for answers now. They claim me to be a Master! And you!—You don’t eat or sleep—you have not seen your family in months! For god sake, Altair, your own son thinks his father is dead! He does not even know your name anymore! All you do is watch nightmares using that Apple. It’s poisoning you!”
The angry rant came to a stop, leaving Malik panting and out of breath. Both men staring the other down, refusing to let up or give in. And they stayed like this for a while, though time was irrelevant, until, finally, Malik lost the fighting stance and let his shoulders slump.
“Give me the Apple, Altair.”
These were not the right words. This was the farthest thing from ‘right’ Altair could think of. To simply give up the apple? How could he? Amber eyes flashed, gaze turning towards the golden orb sitting on the desk, only a few feet away. It pulsed a little faster, hummed a little louder. The look on Altair’s face grew distant, and Malik knew the Apple was drawing him in once again.
“I’m not letting—“
Altair was in front of him, standing between him and where the Apple sat, a dark look crossing his face.
“I will not ask again. Give me—“
“No.” Then Altair moved. He moved much faster than Malik remembered he could—much faster then he recalled any normal man could. In front of him, then behind, gripping his shoulders and shoving him back. Malik hit the nearest wall, bracing himself to push off until a weight pushing him back against the hard surface, strong hands forcing him still. He felt lips press against his ear as Altair spat out, “Neither you nor anyone else will take away what is rightfully mine.”
Re: Visions of Eden [4/?]
Re: Visions of Eden [5/?]
(Anonymous) 2011-02-23 01:55 am (UTC)(link)A hand reached under his robs, grabbing all the remaining throwing knives and tossed them aside. Malik squeezed his eyes closed, listening as his only weapons became useless to him. That same hand roamed for a moment, as if looking for any other hidden weapons, before it paused, coming to a halt on Malik’s stomach. He glared, turning his head back at an odd angle so he could see Altair’s face. Malik sneered.
“And what do you plan on doing now? Kill me?” He spat out, flexing and relaxing the muscles in his shoulders, trying to figure out how to get back the movement of his only arm.
Apparently, Altair did not approve of his vocalization. It seemed Malik was being ‘insubordinate’ he could see, written all over the Master’s face. At such a look, Malik let a half-smirk twitch against his lips. Maybe Altair wasn’t as in control as he thought he wa—
“No, Malik.”
His eyes went wide, suddenly, and the next sarcastic remark died on his tongue, twisting itself into a sharp, pained cry. The hand twisting his arm back was pulling, pulling hard enough in the wrong direction so his arm bent further, strained into a twist that wasn’t humanly possible.
“I don’t want to kill you.”
And, in another second and hard jolt, a clear ‘pop’ sounded, followed closely by Malik screaming out as his arm was dislocated from his shoulder.
Behind him, Altair was laughing again, a sick sort of twisted sound that caused another wave of nausea to sweep over Malik, though he was sure that was also partly from the pain setting his body ablaze.
“See, I only want to make an example of you.” The hand holding his arm let it go and another cry left Malik’s throat as the weight of it fell, causing another jolt of pain as if swung limp and worthless next to him. Horror crossed the Dai’s face, a sudden look of realization, as he tried to move a finger only to cause more pain running up his body, that he now had no working arm to protect himself. And that awful voice was still talking to him. “I want it so, every time another looks upon you, you they will think twice about calling anyone but me ‘Master’.”
Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, only half hearing what the other was saying, trying over and over again to get some mobility out of his arm, not wanting to think about how nothing but pain gave him reply. At least it was still there. At least he could still feel it. Though, Altair did not like being ignored. Grabbing Malik by the shoulder, he turned him around, face to face, eyes bright with that spark of insanity. Ebony met amber and couldn’t look away. Altair smiled once more; glad he had captured the other’s attention.
“You speak so highly of the Creed,” He said in just above a whisper. “So why not prove how faithful you truly are?”
Suddenly, everything was a blur. It was a combination of Altair’s quick movements and the sudden pain that practically made Malik black out as he was pulled by the arm (too scared to resist in fear of it being fully ripped off) and then thrown onto the untouched bed. There was no time to make himself more comfortable or to even move enough for a possible escape as the bed dipped and Altair was above him.
The anger had vanished, replaced now by a pleasant air, soft and almost, almost, understanding. Forgiving. And maybe it would have worked on someone else, anyone else, but Malik knew better. The man above him was the reason he only had one arm. He was the reason he might have none soon and he knew better than to trust that look. Because those eyes gave it away, clouded over and distant. The Apple was at work, causing more of the poison to invade.
He flinched away when cold fingers touched his cheek. When had he started to cry again?
That smile, and for a moment Malik saw a shadow of what Altair used to be.
“Dear Malik…do not judge me so harshly for what I am about to do. I simply want you to remember, that everything is still permitted.”
Re: Visions of Eden [5/?]
(Anonymous) 2011-03-01 06:01 am (UTC)(link)Re: Visions of Eden [5/?]
(Anonymous) 2011-03-01 01:25 pm (UTC)(link)Just what OP needs after a mind-numbing business trip - HNNGGGG