Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt. 6

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Assassin's Creed Kink Meme pt.6
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≈ 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!

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[FILL] If You Give a Leonardo a Coffee... 4/6

[(Anonymous)]

... I'm not dead yet. I think. TT^TT

*******************

The fourth time it happened because La Volpe was bored.

Now, normally there were innumerable safeguards in place to prevent this from happening, as La Volpe being bored was universally recognized as a Very Bad Thing that led to Even Worse Things. Unfortunately, due to certain extenuating circumstances – involving either a certain oblivious genius and a fiendish liquid, the utilization of said oblivious genius and fiendish liquid by certain unscrupulous individuals, the reaction of the general public to the fruits of said oblivious genius’ genius when influenced by said fiendish liquid, or the increasingly incensed flailings of a certain assassin to said all of the above – everyone who should have been watch-dogging the Thief Lord was just a tad… preoccupied. And, thanks to said preoccupation, no one saw any of the signs until things had already spiraled so far out of control that nothing could have been done even if someone had managed to read the writing on the wall.

Though, truth be told, there would’ve been very little anyone could’ve done had the thought occurred to them, wall-writing or no, as La Volpe was widely known and generally acknowledged as an inhuman force of nature.

And so, one fine day, La Volpe got bored, considered the chaos that had been sweeping the city, and decided to get in on that.

He already knew the whole story, of course, having been supplied with the unedited details from one of his weekly meetings tea-parties with Antonio (eventually, anyway; the information first had to be sifted out from the copious, typically icky gushing about Machiavelli He Who Most Certainly Was A Traitorous Prick And Would Be Ended With Extreme Prejudice To The Face And Probably Groin). As a result, he was just about the best prepared for the insanity that had ravaged the city of late, and was able to turn his whole attention to the new development.

He came to the conclusion that the whole thing was kind of neat, then went back to stalking Machiavelli.

Things continued as usual for the next few days, uninfluenced by the surrounding descent into madness. And then the drink of madness entered the mired halls of Machiavelli, and normalcy went screaming off a cliff.

…

…

…

He had seen the man naked.

And cheerful.

It was a testament to the sheer majesty that was La Volpe that he lasted all the way until the icky one climbed through a window to try and seduce Antonio before he had to give up and go be sick, lest he succumb to a madness all his own.

Even after his nemesis reappeared – thankfully reclothed – La Volpe hadn’t quite found himself up to resuming his stalkery. The mental wounds were still too fresh for that.

And so, as the city reeled from the latest assault on normalcy and common decency, La Volpe found himself with an unprecedented amount of free time on his hands.

In other words, he was really bored.

It was at this point that thoughts of Antonio’s intriguing beverage resurfaced in his mind. The so called “espressiagitato” had been making its way through their circle of allies, leaving a trail of madness and implausible denial in its wake. Even without Antonio’s own lurid descriptors of its effects, La Volpe had gathered a fair bit of information about the drink. For one thing, he had heard quite a bit from his own subordinates minions, either in regards to their own experiences imbibing it or from their observations of allied peers. He also, obviously, knew about its influence on sweet little da Vinci from Antonio’s tea-parties, Ezio’s rabid flailings, his minions reports, and the ever growing fount of gossip and speculation from every last random citizen on the street.

And then, of course, there was his own experience with it.

He had returned to his headquarters lair one night after a little visit attempted murder at Machiavelli’s. Preoccupied by analyzing the rather fruitless trip – he was clearly going to have to alter his methods somewhat, if Machiavelli had reached such a point of incredibly appropriate paranoid caution born of experience appalling paranoia born of a clearly guilty conscience that he worn protective gear and carried heavy weaponry when visiting his larder in the dark of night – he almost missed the small mug sitting innocuously on the little table, surrounded by a cluster of wide-eyed minions. As the group shuffled about, each offering various coins and trying to convince one of the others to drink, La Volpe stared at the mug, mild curiosity flickering to life. Then, with a little shrug, he picked up the mug and – amidst a clamor of gasps, desperate protestations, and a particularly womanly shriek of horror from Ernesto – downed it.

His minions held their breaths.

He blinked.

And…

He said it was rather tasty and went about his night.

For some strange reason, after that night, his minions seemed to have developed an even greater blind terror perfectly appropriate respect – and blind terror – for him than they had already held.

This pleasant memory in mind, and memories of naked Machiavelli still too fresh to engaging in his usual forms of boredom annihilation, La Volpe sent one of his minions off to obtain some espressiagitato from Antonio and – as soon as he stopped the boy’s hysterics by explaining that it wasn’t for himself – started going through his collection of Random Things for inventoring materials.

A few hours later saw La Volpe dropping down the chimney and into the backroom Leonardo’s workshop, a mug in one hand and a bulging satchel slung over one shoulder, landing in a crouch a few feet away from the inventor.

Leonardo stared at La Volpe.

La Volpe stared at Leonardo.

Salaì shrieked into his gag, squirmed desperately against the ropes in a futile attempt to cover himself, and was summarily ignored.

Then, just as the staring turned the corner and became really awkward, La Volpe held the mug out. “Drink this.”

Leonardo continued to stare at La Volpe. Then, blinking once, he reached out, took the mug, and downed it.

La Volpe nodded in satisfaction and handed over the sack as well.

Salaì probably did something, but Leonardo was the only one who would have cared and he was distracted.

“Well,” La Volpe maintained the mutual stare for a moment longer, then reached over and gave Leonardo a pat on the shoulder. “Have fun.”

And with that he went back up the chimney, settled down on the roof, and amused himself by watching birds and throwing tiny rocks at passing Templars and guards while he waited for Fun Things to begin.

##################

The next day saw the result of God’s apparent decision to get creative with his punishment of the Borgias.

A particularly nervous and suitably paranoid collection of Templars and guards – “led” by an even more nervous and especially suitably paranoid Cesare Borgia – were clustered together, making their very slow way across the city when they made the mistake of rounding a street corner and found themselves facing a waking nightmare.

Before them was a small company of thieves, each grinning with a sort of inhuman glee that indicated a thirst for vengeance, nearly carnal appreciation for chaos, missing souls, and deep-seated psychological trauma.

Each one was sitting astride some sort of bipedal creature, each distinctly reptilian in appearance, approximately six feet in height and ten feet long from the snout to the tip of their tails, armed with cruel maws filled with wicked fangs and decidedly vicious looking hooked claws on their small arms and large feet, and forged from metal and twisted fever dreams.

And there, resting in their midst like a Mephistophelian specter, was the fiend known as La Volpe, sitting astride an entirely different bipedal metallic reptilian nightmare that, dwarfing its mechanical minions by about ten feet, would have sent a lance of blind terror through even the most steeled of bowels despite its strangely big head and adorably tiny arms.

In retrospect, the apparently-not-paranoid-enough group probably should have at least noticed the unusual silence of the area, realized that something was horribly wrong, and not walked straight into the incredibly terrifying and rather obvious ambush.

For a long moment the square was perfectly still – the Templar forces frozen in shocked terror and the Thieves savoring their shocked terror.

Then Cesare, already a bit cracked from the sheer amount of Very Bad Things that had happened to him lately, let out a tiny squeaking sob.

As though that cry was some pitiless cue, the grin on La Volpe’s face grew in size and intensity, ensuring that all those who survived the day would never again know peace. Then, raising his arms to the heavens, the Thief Lord let loose a peal of diabolical laughter. “I’m on a madre-cazzo TYRANNOSAURUS REX!”

And so it came to be that Cesare Borgia and his men ran like hell through the city, screaming like tiny girls as they tried with varying degrees of success to stay ahead of their pursuers and – consequentially – uneaten by a horde of mechanical prehistoric reptiles, hounded all the way by laughter born beyond the gates of hell.

Re: [FILL] If You Give a Leonardo a Coffee... 4/6

[(Anonymous)]

Well, OP made the mistake of reading this hilarity while drinking coffee. It is... remarkably painful to remove coffee from one's nose, let me tell you that. Also, I may have woken up everyone on the block with banshee-simulating screaming when I saw you updated.

Wonderful part, as always! Volpe's mental dialogue is utterly brilliant, although one should think that poor Leonardo should be developing a resistance towards the Devil's Drink by now. Also, can I just say that I love the half-implied things you leave sprinkled around? Because I do.