Fic: The Meaning of Cages
Apr. 24th, 2010 10:06 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tanarillWow, I guess the porn juices are flowing! XD
Title: The Meaning of Cages
Fandom: Assassin's Creed II, which Ubisoft owns and I do not
Rating: NC17
Warnings: This is graphic gay sex with nearly no plot. It was written for the [kink meme]. Also, totally unbeta'd.
Like all youths of a certain social standing in the sprawling, loud, smelly, and often just plain strange city of Ankh-Morpork, Ezio Auditore was sent to the Assassin's Guild for training at the tender age of eleven. His elder brother, Federico, had completed the basic course with honors, and since he was the "spare" of "heir and spare," he was the one who was expected to actually take up the trade, and finance the family, and possibly not survive. After all, should the spare get ambitious . . .
On the whole, he enjoyed his life. Assassins weren't allowed out of the guild unless it was summer holidays until fifth year, which meant anyone worth anything knew how to get out by the end of first. And he enjoyed it, because very nearly no one minded an assassin-in-training on the roof*. Oh, certainly there was killing, but Uncle Mario had told him the day before he began that his scar was due to being flashy. So he wasn't, mostly.
And, because he was not as stupid as some of his classmates**, he decided that the only way to become even less visible was to learn from the ones who did it so well they were never noticed.
He started with the Thieves, where he had a very profitable meeting with one Rosa. Learning to pick locks or pockets would have gotten him rather terminally expelled from the guild, so he didn't tell anyone. He moved on to the Seamstress' Guild when Rosa's adoptive father began to make noises about him, and from them he learned an even more important talent, which was discretion.
Still, it was with some trepidation that he went to the Palace. By all accounts, the Patrician was a reasonable man, but he wasn't sure how reasonable he'd be about an Assassin asking for training. Still, the man had been the best, so he went with any number of knives.
He didn't make it anywhere near the Oblong Office, though, for two reasons. The first was this . . . space. It had been left when someone long ago had added an extra wing onto the building, so it was too small to be a proper courtyard, even discounting the fact that it was four stories off the ground and had no hand rail and had probably been designed by BS Johnson. Regardless of the fact, there was a man there. He took a step forward to investigate, when the second reason pressed cold and thin against his neck.
"Good morning," said Vetinari pleasantly.
It actually went fairly well. Well, Vetinari had looked at him until he it took every ounce of will not to fidget, but he'd listened to the request readily enough.
"I am a busy man."
"I know," said Ezio. "I would like the name of a book."
An eyebrow.
"You read the entire library. You're famous for it. You must have found something, some secret-"
"Ah, that." Another silence. "You are the enterprising young Assassin who learned from the Thieves and Seamstresses, are you not?"
Ezio started, then said cautiously, "Yes . . . ?"
"Don't let Lord Downey catch you. And now, I believe, I have an appointment. Ah, yes, Drumknott. Please escort Mr. Auditore to the gates."
So he left without having gained anything, but with his life, so he counted himself lucky.
He was not planning to go back; getting away once without being hung up by a small bun with currants in was quite enough. But . . . there was that man, and it rankled at him like a loose tooth. This time he took no (extra) knives and went dressed like an Auditore and asked to see the Patrician. He was led to wait in a room with a clock that had him nearly climbing the walls after two minutes and playing targets with a dent mark on the opposite wall in five.
"Ah," said Vetinari. "The middle Auditore. Do give my regards to your mother. And you will, of course, pay for the wallpaper. Now, what do you want?"
He blinked. "I - there was a man. On the roof."
The eyebrow. "I think you will find," said Vetinari, quietly, "that you are mistaken."
"No," said Ezio. "I am not."
"Let me rephrase: it will be in your best interests to find that you are, in fact, mistaken. And that concludes this meeting, I believe."
Drumknott was suddenly there again, too. He ought to be taking lessons from the clerks.
The third time he went to the Palace, he went in open daylight. He had considered night, but it was far too obvious, and anyway, during the day the Patrician was busy. He went with basic climbing gear, and set of lockpicks, and a few knives, and was totally unsurprised when he found the needle-thin edge of Vetinari's blade against his skin.
"Mr. Auditore, again."
"Yes, sir."
"Hmm." The blade retracted. "Well, come along then. And follow me exactly."
"Sir?" He had rather expected to be dead.
"Not that I would not just as soon have you executed, you understand. Here." And there was, suddenly, a door opening in the fold of shadow between two parts of the building.
Oh. So no one would ever even find the body.
It was to his surprise, therefore, that they emerged sometime later into a bright, airy room. Most of the ceiling was covered with a stuffed crocodile (necessary in such cases) and the rest of it was filed with paper and bits of machine and pieces of string. And the man, of course.
Vetinari cleared his throat.
"Oh!" said the man. He had blond hair and blue eyes and was dressed in clothing that was probably white once but was now so paint-spattered that it would be impossible to tell. "So you did find him, good. Thank you."
"You are welcome. Do you need anything?"
"More blue paint would be nice."
"I shall see to it directly. Ezio, do not try to leave." And then he was gone.
Ezio had figured that one out, at least. The long corridor on the way had six traps that he'd spotted, and he didn't doubt there were more.
"I am afraid," he said, "that I am somewhat confused."
"You," said the man, "are Ezio Auditore, no? I saw you on the roof." He pointed to a series of sketches pinned to one wall, of a young man clothed in Assassin black, climbing the Palace. "And I wanted to meet you,so I asked Havelock if he could arrange it."
"Ah, I see. And you are?"
"Oh! I am Leonardo. Leonardo da Quirm."
"Da Quirm? But you vanished years ago!"
"Ah," a cough. "Well. Havelock gave me this wonderful room and as much paper and paint and string as I could ever want, so why would I ever want to leave?" He hadn't mention food, Ezio noted absently. And apparently did not consider himself a prisoner.
"But you cannot leave if you want to!"
"Certainly I could, if I wanted."
"But - the traps?"
"Well, they were somewhat difficult to build, but - Havelock insisted that I design appropriate protections. Although," and here he lowered his voice, "none of them are actually deadly. I made sure of that."
"I . . . see," said Ezio. "So why did you want me?"
"Well," said Leonardo, eyes bird-bright, "I was curious."
When Vetinari appeared to collect him, hours later, Leonardo knew about his father (Lord Auditore), his mother (Lady Auditore), his uncle (Mario the Grey), his elder brother (an upstanding man in the realm of finance), his younger brother (who loved birds of all kind), his younger sister (who was looking to be married soon), his likes (cats, ladies of negotiable virtue, and knives of all kind), dislikes (poisons, cheaters, the bloody Watch), and prospective career. He had frowned only at the last, but said nothing, and offered him more tea.
The tea came from a device which boiled the water in six seconds, when it didn't explode, which, he thought, said everything.
On the way out, Vetinari said, "Well?"
"He is - quite a character."
"Ah, the Seamstresses have taught you well, I see. He is a genius, you meant to say, and quite mad. But it has spared your life. You will come her every week, and spend some hours with Mr. da Quirm. I will make arrangements with the Guild."
"Sir."
Things settled somewhat. He continued to train with people he shouldn't, and learned that he should never be at the top of the class standing. He was mocked for being stupid enough to go the Palace, even if it were just to see, and he ignored it. And looked forward to his few hours with Leonardo.
The first week, they argued about him being an Assassin, and he explained that it was just the training. His brother was a banker. Besides, he didn't enjoy it.
Leonardo said, "But you are still killing. I do not even eat meat."
He didn't say anything, and after that they decided to avoid the topic.
After the first week, Leonardo became - not less mad, but more focused. He showed Ezio his plans and his inventions and his paintings. One rainy day, he asked Ezio to model, and later presented him with what might as well have been an iconograph in charcoal and the gray light of rain. He stared at it, speechless before he remembered his manners.
Leonardo told him stories. His upbringing in Quirm; and his odd, quirky friendship with Vetinari. One day, he worked up the courage to ask, "Isn't there anything out there you miss?"
A pause. "I used to buy birds so I could set them free," said Leonardo, quietly.
The next week, he brought a bird in a cage.
And so it went. The weeks turned into months, and the year turned, and it was suddenly the most commercialized time of the year. He agonized for weeks about what to get Leonardo, and eventually settled on a stack of books. Leonardo could never read enough.
He got an odd kind of leather cuff. Leonardo showed him how to fasten it on, fingers quick and sure, and then demonstrated the little, spring-mounted blade. Miniature crossbows were banned in the city, but this - no one knew such a thing was possible. He didn't have the words to thank Leonardo, instead sweeping him into a hug.
Leonardo kissed him. Ezio choked and pushed himself backwards. "What?"
"I'm sorry," said Leonardo immediately. "I just-"
"Leonardo," he said, again. "What was that?"
"That is what is called a kiss-"
"Leonardo."
"I . . . oh, I've made a mess of it. I wanted - an I thought - but you didn't - "
Ezio said nothing, but stepped closer, stroking Leonardo's chin to tilt it up to him.
"So," said Ezio, sometime later, "how does one go about . . . ?"
"It is the same as a woman." And then, to Ezio's look, "well, not entirely the same. There is some preparation first. But after that it is just angle and pressure. Although we do not have to do everything tonight."
Ezio kissed him again.
Leonardo groaned and went with it for a while. And after that while, he said, "Clothes, clothes . . . "
"Off," agreed Ezio. Of course, while Leonardo could disrobe in all of five seconds, Assassin backs were more complicated, yards of black silk. Leonardo lay on the bed and watched with his bright blue eyes. "You look," commented Ezio, "like a child unwrapping a present."
"Ah, but this is better. The present unwraps himself."
Leonardo waited until they were both naked and in bed again and kissing before reaching for him. He gasped at the first tentative brush of fingers, and then moaned. It wasn't like touching oneself, and it wasn't like a woman. It was someone who had a penis and knew exactly how the things he was doing felt on the receiving end, and that was -
It was Leonardo -
-stopping.
"What?" he said, stupidly.
"I want," said Leonardo, voice tight with need. "I, let me - "
"Yes," said Ezio, and watched while Leonardo got out of bed and went searching on his workbench for a tube of -
"What is that?"
"Lubricant," said Leonardo, squeezing some of the whitish goop onto his fingers and wiggling them to warm it. Ezio did not understand until Leonardo reached down and simply pushed into himself, and sighed a little sigh that went straight to his cock.
He could not look away, could not even blink. Leonardo's normally pale skin was flushed red with exertion, rocking back onto his own fingers and apparently not noticing the moans he made.
"Leonardo," he hissed.
"Yes, Ezio, let me - " And he removed his fingers, coated them again, coated him, and lined himself up.
Sliding in was heaven and damnation*** and utter, consuming bliss, and he knew from the first that he would not last long. Leonardo didn't seem to care, since he was whispering exactly what he had wanted to do to Ezio, and for how long, hot and desperate into his ear. Begging Ezio to touch him, which he hurried to do. Begging Ezio to fuck him harder, deeper, to make him scream.
He felt Leonardo's orgasm as a stiffening of his body and a sudden wetness on his hand, a whiteness when he looked down. And suddenly it was too much, too intense, that he had done that to Leonardo, and he was coming too, binding white.
"So," said Leonardo later. "You liked the knife, then."
"I like you," he said, pulling the genius inventor in closer. "The knife was just a bonus."
*It went like this: thieves avoided them because they were Assassins, and they avoided thieves because no one had paid for inhumation. Unless, of course, someone had.
**Although not for long; stupid people didn't last long in the Guild.
***His family believed in Blind Io, or at least donated to the temple quarterly. He didn't believe believe, but for this he could make an exception.
Ooowow. And there is another porn waiting for my beta.
As always, concrit desperately requested.
Title: The Meaning of Cages
Fandom: Assassin's Creed II, which Ubisoft owns and I do not
Rating: NC17
Warnings: This is graphic gay sex with nearly no plot. It was written for the [kink meme]. Also, totally unbeta'd.
Like all youths of a certain social standing in the sprawling, loud, smelly, and often just plain strange city of Ankh-Morpork, Ezio Auditore was sent to the Assassin's Guild for training at the tender age of eleven. His elder brother, Federico, had completed the basic course with honors, and since he was the "spare" of "heir and spare," he was the one who was expected to actually take up the trade, and finance the family, and possibly not survive. After all, should the spare get ambitious . . .
On the whole, he enjoyed his life. Assassins weren't allowed out of the guild unless it was summer holidays until fifth year, which meant anyone worth anything knew how to get out by the end of first. And he enjoyed it, because very nearly no one minded an assassin-in-training on the roof*. Oh, certainly there was killing, but Uncle Mario had told him the day before he began that his scar was due to being flashy. So he wasn't, mostly.
And, because he was not as stupid as some of his classmates**, he decided that the only way to become even less visible was to learn from the ones who did it so well they were never noticed.
He started with the Thieves, where he had a very profitable meeting with one Rosa. Learning to pick locks or pockets would have gotten him rather terminally expelled from the guild, so he didn't tell anyone. He moved on to the Seamstress' Guild when Rosa's adoptive father began to make noises about him, and from them he learned an even more important talent, which was discretion.
Still, it was with some trepidation that he went to the Palace. By all accounts, the Patrician was a reasonable man, but he wasn't sure how reasonable he'd be about an Assassin asking for training. Still, the man had been the best, so he went with any number of knives.
He didn't make it anywhere near the Oblong Office, though, for two reasons. The first was this . . . space. It had been left when someone long ago had added an extra wing onto the building, so it was too small to be a proper courtyard, even discounting the fact that it was four stories off the ground and had no hand rail and had probably been designed by BS Johnson. Regardless of the fact, there was a man there. He took a step forward to investigate, when the second reason pressed cold and thin against his neck.
"Good morning," said Vetinari pleasantly.
It actually went fairly well. Well, Vetinari had looked at him until he it took every ounce of will not to fidget, but he'd listened to the request readily enough.
"I am a busy man."
"I know," said Ezio. "I would like the name of a book."
An eyebrow.
"You read the entire library. You're famous for it. You must have found something, some secret-"
"Ah, that." Another silence. "You are the enterprising young Assassin who learned from the Thieves and Seamstresses, are you not?"
Ezio started, then said cautiously, "Yes . . . ?"
"Don't let Lord Downey catch you. And now, I believe, I have an appointment. Ah, yes, Drumknott. Please escort Mr. Auditore to the gates."
So he left without having gained anything, but with his life, so he counted himself lucky.
He was not planning to go back; getting away once without being hung up by a small bun with currants in was quite enough. But . . . there was that man, and it rankled at him like a loose tooth. This time he took no (extra) knives and went dressed like an Auditore and asked to see the Patrician. He was led to wait in a room with a clock that had him nearly climbing the walls after two minutes and playing targets with a dent mark on the opposite wall in five.
"Ah," said Vetinari. "The middle Auditore. Do give my regards to your mother. And you will, of course, pay for the wallpaper. Now, what do you want?"
He blinked. "I - there was a man. On the roof."
The eyebrow. "I think you will find," said Vetinari, quietly, "that you are mistaken."
"No," said Ezio. "I am not."
"Let me rephrase: it will be in your best interests to find that you are, in fact, mistaken. And that concludes this meeting, I believe."
Drumknott was suddenly there again, too. He ought to be taking lessons from the clerks.
The third time he went to the Palace, he went in open daylight. He had considered night, but it was far too obvious, and anyway, during the day the Patrician was busy. He went with basic climbing gear, and set of lockpicks, and a few knives, and was totally unsurprised when he found the needle-thin edge of Vetinari's blade against his skin.
"Mr. Auditore, again."
"Yes, sir."
"Hmm." The blade retracted. "Well, come along then. And follow me exactly."
"Sir?" He had rather expected to be dead.
"Not that I would not just as soon have you executed, you understand. Here." And there was, suddenly, a door opening in the fold of shadow between two parts of the building.
Oh. So no one would ever even find the body.
It was to his surprise, therefore, that they emerged sometime later into a bright, airy room. Most of the ceiling was covered with a stuffed crocodile (necessary in such cases) and the rest of it was filed with paper and bits of machine and pieces of string. And the man, of course.
Vetinari cleared his throat.
"Oh!" said the man. He had blond hair and blue eyes and was dressed in clothing that was probably white once but was now so paint-spattered that it would be impossible to tell. "So you did find him, good. Thank you."
"You are welcome. Do you need anything?"
"More blue paint would be nice."
"I shall see to it directly. Ezio, do not try to leave." And then he was gone.
Ezio had figured that one out, at least. The long corridor on the way had six traps that he'd spotted, and he didn't doubt there were more.
"I am afraid," he said, "that I am somewhat confused."
"You," said the man, "are Ezio Auditore, no? I saw you on the roof." He pointed to a series of sketches pinned to one wall, of a young man clothed in Assassin black, climbing the Palace. "And I wanted to meet you,so I asked Havelock if he could arrange it."
"Ah, I see. And you are?"
"Oh! I am Leonardo. Leonardo da Quirm."
"Da Quirm? But you vanished years ago!"
"Ah," a cough. "Well. Havelock gave me this wonderful room and as much paper and paint and string as I could ever want, so why would I ever want to leave?" He hadn't mention food, Ezio noted absently. And apparently did not consider himself a prisoner.
"But you cannot leave if you want to!"
"Certainly I could, if I wanted."
"But - the traps?"
"Well, they were somewhat difficult to build, but - Havelock insisted that I design appropriate protections. Although," and here he lowered his voice, "none of them are actually deadly. I made sure of that."
"I . . . see," said Ezio. "So why did you want me?"
"Well," said Leonardo, eyes bird-bright, "I was curious."
When Vetinari appeared to collect him, hours later, Leonardo knew about his father (Lord Auditore), his mother (Lady Auditore), his uncle (Mario the Grey), his elder brother (an upstanding man in the realm of finance), his younger brother (who loved birds of all kind), his younger sister (who was looking to be married soon), his likes (cats, ladies of negotiable virtue, and knives of all kind), dislikes (poisons, cheaters, the bloody Watch), and prospective career. He had frowned only at the last, but said nothing, and offered him more tea.
The tea came from a device which boiled the water in six seconds, when it didn't explode, which, he thought, said everything.
On the way out, Vetinari said, "Well?"
"He is - quite a character."
"Ah, the Seamstresses have taught you well, I see. He is a genius, you meant to say, and quite mad. But it has spared your life. You will come her every week, and spend some hours with Mr. da Quirm. I will make arrangements with the Guild."
"Sir."
Things settled somewhat. He continued to train with people he shouldn't, and learned that he should never be at the top of the class standing. He was mocked for being stupid enough to go the Palace, even if it were just to see, and he ignored it. And looked forward to his few hours with Leonardo.
The first week, they argued about him being an Assassin, and he explained that it was just the training. His brother was a banker. Besides, he didn't enjoy it.
Leonardo said, "But you are still killing. I do not even eat meat."
He didn't say anything, and after that they decided to avoid the topic.
After the first week, Leonardo became - not less mad, but more focused. He showed Ezio his plans and his inventions and his paintings. One rainy day, he asked Ezio to model, and later presented him with what might as well have been an iconograph in charcoal and the gray light of rain. He stared at it, speechless before he remembered his manners.
Leonardo told him stories. His upbringing in Quirm; and his odd, quirky friendship with Vetinari. One day, he worked up the courage to ask, "Isn't there anything out there you miss?"
A pause. "I used to buy birds so I could set them free," said Leonardo, quietly.
The next week, he brought a bird in a cage.
And so it went. The weeks turned into months, and the year turned, and it was suddenly the most commercialized time of the year. He agonized for weeks about what to get Leonardo, and eventually settled on a stack of books. Leonardo could never read enough.
He got an odd kind of leather cuff. Leonardo showed him how to fasten it on, fingers quick and sure, and then demonstrated the little, spring-mounted blade. Miniature crossbows were banned in the city, but this - no one knew such a thing was possible. He didn't have the words to thank Leonardo, instead sweeping him into a hug.
Leonardo kissed him. Ezio choked and pushed himself backwards. "What?"
"I'm sorry," said Leonardo immediately. "I just-"
"Leonardo," he said, again. "What was that?"
"That is what is called a kiss-"
"Leonardo."
"I . . . oh, I've made a mess of it. I wanted - an I thought - but you didn't - "
Ezio said nothing, but stepped closer, stroking Leonardo's chin to tilt it up to him.
"So," said Ezio, sometime later, "how does one go about . . . ?"
"It is the same as a woman." And then, to Ezio's look, "well, not entirely the same. There is some preparation first. But after that it is just angle and pressure. Although we do not have to do everything tonight."
Ezio kissed him again.
Leonardo groaned and went with it for a while. And after that while, he said, "Clothes, clothes . . . "
"Off," agreed Ezio. Of course, while Leonardo could disrobe in all of five seconds, Assassin backs were more complicated, yards of black silk. Leonardo lay on the bed and watched with his bright blue eyes. "You look," commented Ezio, "like a child unwrapping a present."
"Ah, but this is better. The present unwraps himself."
Leonardo waited until they were both naked and in bed again and kissing before reaching for him. He gasped at the first tentative brush of fingers, and then moaned. It wasn't like touching oneself, and it wasn't like a woman. It was someone who had a penis and knew exactly how the things he was doing felt on the receiving end, and that was -
It was Leonardo -
-stopping.
"What?" he said, stupidly.
"I want," said Leonardo, voice tight with need. "I, let me - "
"Yes," said Ezio, and watched while Leonardo got out of bed and went searching on his workbench for a tube of -
"What is that?"
"Lubricant," said Leonardo, squeezing some of the whitish goop onto his fingers and wiggling them to warm it. Ezio did not understand until Leonardo reached down and simply pushed into himself, and sighed a little sigh that went straight to his cock.
He could not look away, could not even blink. Leonardo's normally pale skin was flushed red with exertion, rocking back onto his own fingers and apparently not noticing the moans he made.
"Leonardo," he hissed.
"Yes, Ezio, let me - " And he removed his fingers, coated them again, coated him, and lined himself up.
Sliding in was heaven and damnation*** and utter, consuming bliss, and he knew from the first that he would not last long. Leonardo didn't seem to care, since he was whispering exactly what he had wanted to do to Ezio, and for how long, hot and desperate into his ear. Begging Ezio to touch him, which he hurried to do. Begging Ezio to fuck him harder, deeper, to make him scream.
He felt Leonardo's orgasm as a stiffening of his body and a sudden wetness on his hand, a whiteness when he looked down. And suddenly it was too much, too intense, that he had done that to Leonardo, and he was coming too, binding white.
"So," said Leonardo later. "You liked the knife, then."
"I like you," he said, pulling the genius inventor in closer. "The knife was just a bonus."
*It went like this: thieves avoided them because they were Assassins, and they avoided thieves because no one had paid for inhumation. Unless, of course, someone had.
**Although not for long; stupid people didn't last long in the Guild.
***His family believed in Blind Io, or at least donated to the temple quarterly. He didn't believe believe, but for this he could make an exception.
Ooowow. And there is another porn waiting for my beta.
As always, concrit desperately requested.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-04-24 07:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-04-24 08:44 pm (UTC)There weren't any grammatical errors I could see, in case you wanted that part looked over.
no subject
Date: 2010-04-24 09:05 pm (UTC)Nice attention to details; I laughed especially hard at how you even included footnotes.
Here from the kinkmeme
Date: 2010-04-26 03:05 am (UTC)I love that line- it's simultaneously both utterly Discworld-y and Leonardo, and it makes the sex scene that much more intimate and playful and lovely.
Bravo! I never would have expected this crossover to work, but you succeeded brilliantly- Ezio's attempts to talk to Vetinari were awesome (a million lols at "He ought to be taking lessons from the clerks."), as were the footnotes.
(A few typos- first paragraph, Ezio's brother is "Federico," not "Frederico"; the "thy" in the beginning of the section where Ezio first meets Leonardo should be a "they"; same thing with the thy/they in the first footnote.)
Re: Here from the kinkmeme
Date: 2010-04-26 03:49 am (UTC)I honestly didn't find fitting the two together so difficult - Pterry had already provided us with both Leo and Machiavelli analogues, and the entire Assassin's Guild/Nobility social structure. The hardest part was getting Ezio and Leo in the same room.
(That's the problem with unbeta'd work. Thanks for catching those.)
no subject
Date: 2010-05-05 08:14 pm (UTC)They weeks turned into months, and the year turned. I think you mean 'The'. :)
Oh goodness, but this is brilliant. Discworld and Asassin's Creed, two of my favourite things together! I'm so glad someone wrote this -- it was just waiting to happen.
Re-posted due to HTML Fail OTLOP? Is that the term?
Date: 2010-05-12 01:48 am (UTC)You know for some foolish reason I didn't even think Ezio would be at the Assassin's Guild school. And Veternari! Thank you!
Re: OP? Is that the term?
Date: 2010-05-12 01:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-21 12:45 am (UTC)Just popping by to say that! <3 Delightfully done!
no subject
Date: 2010-10-22 03:15 am (UTC)Gimme a prompt and some characters, hey? And then I will write it!
no subject
Date: 2010-10-22 03:35 am (UTC)Leo/Ezio (I am sure this shocks you), in that order. Something involving Ezio trying to buy that little mannequin and Leo has almost forgotten about it...but not quite. <3
I wait with bated breath. While I go work on my own L/E fic because I am absolutely mad about this pairing.
no subject
Date: 2010-12-30 04:52 pm (UTC)Mmmmm. Pratchett and Assassin's Creed. Like the Peanut Butter Cup of my fandoms. Omnomnom.
no subject
Date: 2011-01-12 09:58 am (UTC)Thank you so much !
no subject
Date: 2011-02-11 06:31 am (UTC)It fits so well! Like the above said, it did not even occur to me that OF COURSE Ezio would be educated at the assassin's guild! He's a noble! OMG!
Ventari has a new pet assassin/bodyguard for Leo too! *chinhands* I just wonder what hijinks Ezio and Leo will get up to on Ventari's missions you know? Do you think Ezio ever take a crack at Sir Vimes for the hell of it? Do Carrot and Ezio ever meet on the street? Does Ezio go to the Unseen University on some errand and accidentally end up IN HEX, and he meets his ancestors and descendants?
DUDE. Ventari isn't getting any younger, Ezio could totally be his chosen heir!
I just. This was a good prompt executed brilliantly, and I could live here for a long time!
no subject
Date: 2011-02-13 02:09 am (UTC)Oh well! Thanks!
Also, decloak = a free drabble, if you will give me a prompt.
no subject
Date: 2011-02-13 02:10 am (UTC)Also, do you want a drabble?
no subject
Date: 2011-02-13 02:11 am (UTC)I, uh, hadn't planned to do more in this world, honestly. You are welcome to it, should you want. :D
no subject
Date: 2011-02-13 07:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-13 05:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-13 06:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-13 08:04 pm (UTC)To parapharse an author 'ideas are the easy part, the craft is hard,' and your execution was great.