Assassin's Creed X Reader One-shots

Princess and the Italian? Yeah right! (Ezio x Reader) (Disney AU)

Hello, everyone~! I really enjoyed writing this one 'cause I'm a slut for Disney ^^ I hope you enjoy this as much as I hope you do!

Thank you to SyakRM for the request ♡

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

Truer words had never been spoken.

And yet there were still men in the world that chose to ignore this verity.

They believed themselves invincible - that their actions were undeserving of consequences.

This was especially true for one man in particular.

Ezio Auditore.

No, wait. Apologies. Prince Ezio Auditore.

Such pretentiousness creates a cringe worthy bitterness in the mouth. It was physically nauseating to learn that this man had the audacity to carry himself with a level of importance that he clearly was unworthy of possessing.

But you plan on changing that.

You wanted him to know agony and despair, intimately. You hungered for it. You fantasized over the screams you plan on ripping from his lips.

Oh, yes.

He'll soon come to learn the true meaning of humiliation and betrayal…just as you have.

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

Baby blue eyes skim irritably over the rambunctious swarm of foreigners.

Had this been any other day under any other situation, Leonardo would have found himself rooted to the spot, mouth agape and eyes wide and glimmering with unrivaled wonder – after all, it's not every day one finds themself in New Orleans.
The carnivalesque atmosphere of the city should be enjoyed and revered. But instead of relishing the breathtaking sights, exotic spices of food never experienced, and intoxicating rhythm created by a jazz band earning a living on the corner, Leonardo was burdened with the insufferable task of babysitting the second eldest child of the Auditore family – most days however he was convinced that the boy acted much like a spoilt toddler rather than the seventeen year old he actually was. But complaining was fruitless; everyone seemed to receive immense enjoyment in reminding him that he was the butler, nothing more.

The hustle and bustle of people in one of the world's largest cities proved to be exasperating rather than the awe-inspiring, once in a lifetime experience it should have been. There were crowds – easily in the thousands –, citizens of all nationalities in all manners of dress, brightly coloured ornate buildings, the mouth-watering scent of sizzling food, animals, musicians; all mixing together in a near deafening cacophony.

And there was the spoilt brat now.

How unsurprising it was to find him in the midst of a crowd consisting mainly of starry-eyed women all swooning every time a flirtatious smile was sent their way. It made his insides churn – not because he was jealous, but because he knew how these poor women would end up if they were ever to become involved with the Italian Prince.

“You need a hand there, buddy?”

Leonardo ignored the gentleman's offer and continued barrelling his way through the crowd, determination – or if he was being honest, anger – driving him to reach the front. A lady in the centre gave a violent swing of ample hips, connecting with his side and causing both suitcases to escape his grasp. He wanted to yell out. To give the ghastly woman a piece of his mind. But somehow, somehow, he managed to hold his tongue – a miraculous feat to which he should be rewarded, if he did say so himself. Perhaps once they reach their hotel he'll be able to calm down a bit; an air-conditioned room and chilled drink would be heavenly right about now.

“Fresco (Cool)!”

Loud laughter erupts from the Italian Prince, automatically causing Leonardo's eyes to roll skyward – bastardo always had to be the centre of attention.

“Signore!” It was necessary that he shout in order to be heard over the deafening reverberation of instruments and obnoxious laughter of all those foolish enough to fall for his master’s infuriatingly flawless public façade. “I've been searching for you everywhere!”

Ezio barely even glanced in the other man's direction. “What a coincidence, Leonardo. I've been avoiding you everywhere.”

No surprise there.

He forced down the sardonic remark threatening to spill from his lips and stated a simple fact. “We're going to be late for the masquerade.”

But as usual, the young Prince cared naught for what he had to say and instead slung a heavy arm across the butler's shoulders. “Listen, Leonardo, listen!” He dipped and swayed to the music, losing himself in the upbeat melody. “It's jazz – that's the music! It was born here!”

Irritation was the cause of Leonardo's brow twitching; as if this boy had any understanding of what true music actually was. Why, Leonardo could still recall the boggle-eyed look of idiocy upon the young master's face when asked to provide the definition of the term ‘allegretto'.

A heavy weight lowered itself upon the older man's back; Ezio had chosen to lounge negligently atop his back in order to exchange flirtations with two expensively dressed ladies.

“It is beautiful, no?”

The sickeningly charming smile and honeyed tone had both women salivating, to which Leonardo could only respond by biting down on his own tongue. Many a maiden had – unfortunately – fallen for those rugged good looks and beguiling personality, and these poor women were no different.

“No.” Leonardo responded bitterly, heaving the Prince from his back with an over-exaggerated roll of his shoulders.

However, Leonardo's foul mood only served to further encourage the Italian Prince.
“Oh, dance with me, vecchio (old man)!”

A surprised yelp was torn from the back of his throat as he was suddenly wrenched forward by the wrist, forced into performing some humiliating dance for the public. He struggled to remain on his own two feet as he was brutally twirled around the street with casual disregard for his wellbeing.

“We are supposed to be at La Bouff's estate by now!”

Was anyone listening to him at all?! Yes, he was a butler born of lowly heritage, but surely he deserved some ounce of respect? Even a smidgen would suffice.

“Yes, yes, yes.” Ezio said in a tone of voice Leonardo recognised. The patronising tone reserved solely for snobbish royals who believe everyone else to be inferior. “But first...,” He snatched the hat from his head, a few strands of dark hair flopping in front of his eyes, “I buy everyone here a drink!”

The crowd roared their approval, making out as though this was the best day of their lives.

Leonardo released a harsh huff in annoyance as he readjusted the lopsided beret atop his head. “With what money? At this point you have two choices: Woo and marry a rich young lady –,” he felt sick having to participate in this conniving ploy, “or get a job!”

Ezio's nose crinkled, disgust practically radiating off him in waves when his attention falls upon a nearby street sweeper cleaning up after a passing horse. “Ugh, alright, fine. But first, let us dance!”

One would think that Leonardo would have been better prepared this time around, but his young master's sudden declaration took him by surprise once again, and before he knew it, he was bumbling around the street in another dance, with Ezio controlling his every move.

“This is idiocy!” He wailed, tripping over his own two feet. But as per usual his protests fell upon deaf ears.

“For a thin man, you are quite heavy on your feet!” Ezio commented with a laugh, kicking up his heels in an over-exaggerated flourish – which could only be executed by releasing his hold on the butler's hands.

Leonardo certainly had not been anticipating to be so abruptly released, and so gravity seized the opportunity and sent him hurtling. Failing to regain control of his footing, the toe of his perfectly polished wingtip struck hard against one of the uneven cobblestones, and without having enough time to completely process what was happening, he found himself buried beneath the jazz band itself.

“It's perfect; you're finally getting into the music!” Ezio jogged over with a broad smile, honeyed orbs dancing in amusement. “Do you get my joke? Because your head is...it is in the tuba.”

“Esilarante (Hilarious),” Leonardo answered dryly, yanking his cape free from under the crushing weight of a double bass. “Are you going to help me out from under all this or not?!”

The young Prince smiles, a brief quirk of scarred lips, amusement playing across handsome features. “Alright, hang on.”

He is in no way gentle or considerate as he digs all ten fingers into the aging butler's frangible shoulders, hauling him effortlessly onto his feet.

“Come degradante (How degrading).” Leonardo slumps against the wall, cheeks flushed and hair in disarray. “Never have I been so humiliated.”

Ezio's entire face bubbles with sheer humour, titters similar to those of a young child who just got away with pulling a naughty prank escaping him. However, the chance to reprimand him for such childish behaviour was stolen away; a feminine shadow revealed itself suddenly, automatically capturing the young Prince's undivided attention.

Ezio wastes little time in trying to entice this exotic stranger, greeting her – you – with a low and seductive purr. “Buongiorno, bella signora.” He steals a kiss from the back of your hand, scarred lips barely brushing against your skin in a gentle caress.
Seems your suspicions had at last been confirmed – he did not remember you.

No surprise there. The only one he gave any thought to was himself; that evening continues to haunt you nightly, and yet Ezio clearly has no recollection of the event ever occurring.

But no matter. Soon, you'll be the only one to consume his every thought.
It was your turn to be enchanting, to win him over just long enough in order to exact revenge. “Gentlemen. Enchantée.”

Grinning, you remove the top hat from your head and bow. “A tip of the hat from Dr Facilier.” You remove a business card from one of the numerous pockets hidden deep within your tailcoat, offering it to the foreign Prince with an overly seductive smile and flourish. “How y'all doin’?”

Like a moth to a flame, you think, satisfied at the rising lust in his honeyed orbs as they sweep intimately over every single inch of your body, lingering on some intimate areas.

Scarred, plush lips pull back into a flirtatious smile, revealing a set of perfectly maintained teeth. The tips of exquisitely manicured fingers make the briefest of contact with your skin as he accepts the proffered card; they were perfect, his hands. Soft and smooth, like that of an infant. Nobody had hands like that – not anyone worth knowing, anyway. Most people, real people, had calluses and scars, red welts from a hard days work and grime burrowed so deep behind shortened nails that no amount of scrubbing will ever manage to clean them. This man had never done a day's manual labour in his life.

You give the streets a quick glance to ensure no one was around to intervene before cupping Ezio's elbow and leading him down a darkened alleyway, lips curling into a guileful smile upon hearing the child-like wonder contained within the young prince's voice as he reads aloud from the card.

“Tarot readings, charms, potions...dreams made real. Fresco.” There's an eagerness in his eyes as his focus resettles on you. “You are like a fairy godmother, no?”

“Oh, no, no, honey, I'm something so much better than a fairy godmother.”

“Better?” He laughs, a deep, rich chuckle. “What could possibly be better than a fairy godmother?”

A sickeningly sweet innocence worms its way into your voice. “Why, myself, of course.” Draping yourself across the hard line of his body, you stare keenly into his face, eyelashes batting in an alluring, near suggestive manner. “Won't you allow me the pleasure of making all your dreams come true?”

His eyes rake over your body. It is a long, penetrating look that clearly suggests his mind is conjuring naughty scenarios and you are star of the show. “I'd be lying if I said I was not tempted by such a tantalising offer.”

“In that case,” your hand takes its time in travelling down the length of his arm, giving the occasional light squeeze to the muscled appendage hidden within a poet sleeve, the tips of your fingers offering a gentle caress to the heel of his palm, “come with me, sweet Prince; I'm about to change your life.”

A few of his fingers twitched faintly as your lips left a feathery kiss upon his knuckles. He was completely and utterly enthralled – yours to do with as you please. Or he would have been had that damn servant of his not interfered.

“Signore, please-”

“Leonardo, Leonardo! This incantevole (lovely) and remarkable signora has just read my palm!”

The butler's pale blue eyes narrowed as he studied you incredulously, his frown only deepening when catching sight of the newspaper stuffed into back pocket of your trousers. “Or this morning's newspaper?” His fingers snap around his master's wrist and he attempts to lead him away – fortunately for you, your prey appears disinclined to move an inch before getting what was promised. “Signore, this woman is obviously a charlatan. I suggest we move on to a less-”

Your anger has reached its peak at the interference; years of preparation will not be thwarted due to one man's meddling!

With a low snarl, you take a swift step forward, finger jabbed in the butler's face. “Don't you disrespect me, little man! Don't you derogate or deride. You're in my world now, not your world. And I got friends on the other side.”

You snap your fingers and the door behind you swings open. Entranced, Ezio moves forward towards the entrance, giving his butler no other choice but to follow. They freeze, however, right before crossing the threshold, a poignant and hollow voice of some unseen source lurking deep within the shadows providing them with a inexplicable sense of dread.

She's got friends on the other side.

“That's an echo, gentlemen,” you assure them, slinging both arms across their shoulders and ushering them further inside, the door slamming shut of its own accord, cutting off all means of escape, “Just a little something we have here in Louisiana. A little parlour trick, don't worry.”

Leonardo's body is impressively rigid beneath your touch, every muscle practically screaming tension. A firm shove to the back gets him moving but results in him stumbling over a cat skull long since forgotten, his body unceremoniously slopping against the credenza. The man's complete absence of coordination would have been laughable had he not wound up knocking thousand year old tomes and irreplaceable rune stones onto the floor in his moment of clumsiness.

In no way do you hide the fact that you're exasperated by his incompetency and roll your eyes skyward, painted nails digging into the scruff of his neck and forcing his spine to straighten. A pained yelp withers and dies upon his lips – dry and slightly cracked from the punishing New Orleans heat.

“Sit down at my table and put your minds at ease.”

Despite whatever negativity felt towards them both, you were professional enough to plaster on a comely smile and provide every blandishment necessary in order to get them seated at the table in the corner. “If you relax, it'll enable me to do anything I please.”

In a few hurried strides, both foreign travellers had closed the distance between themselves and the table, with Ezio sinking onto a cushioned chair with all the gracefulness of a prideful housecat. His honeyed eyes are brimming with uncontrollable glee, which only intensifies as the shadow belonging to your very being reaches out, ghostlike, with elongated grasping fingers and plucks the cap from his head, tossing it onto a seventeenth century drum table which is already struggling to carry numerous empty vials, shrunken heads, incense, and illegal ingredients.

You smile at the men in front of you upon seating yourself, full of false warmth and promises. “I can read your future and change it ‘round some too.” The tips of your fingers offer a gentle caress to the back of Ezio's impossibly unflawed hand, keeping a suffocating grip on his undivided attention. “I'll look deep into your heart and soul – you do have a soul, don't ya, Leonardo?” You wink when he scowls and turn your focus back to the selfish Prince. “And make your wildest dreams come true.”

You give a theatrical sweep of your arm, forcing their focus upon the voodoo paraphernalia strewn atop multiple wooden shelves. “I got voodoo, I got hoodoo – I got things I ain't even tried!” A stack of tarot cards appear from underneath the table and levitate before their very eyes. “The cards, the cards, the cards will tell...the past, the present, and the future as well. The cards, the cards, just take three – take a little trip into the future with me.”

The Loa spirits can easily be heard whispering the words ‘She’s got friend's on the other side.’ You shoot a narrow-eyed glance over one shoulder, silently insisting that they silence themselves; they can be so impatient at times. No one has waited as long as you have for this moment, and no one was going to jeopardise this rare opportunity.

Three cards are enthusiastically swiped right out from under the tips of your fingers by Ezio. A firm elbow to the ribs is enough to cajole Leonardo into selecting three cards as well, despite his qualms. The remaining tarot cards twist and spin in mid-air, the brightly coloured illustrations changing, depicting a different future, with every flip.

A card slithers down the length of your sleeve and is held up between two fingers, the picture showing Ezio's past. “Now you, young man, are from across the sea. You come from two long lines of royalty - I'm a royal myself, on my mother's side. Your lifestyle's high, but your funds are low; you need to marry a lil' honey whose daddy got dough.”

Humour dances beneath your lashes. “Mommy and daddy cut you off, huh, playboy?” It was about time the arrogant bastard be taken down a notch. Shame it didn't seem to affect him as much as it would someone else – but hey, at least now the pleasure of destroying his life had been granted to you.

Ezio raised his shoulders in a languid fashion, seemingly unfazed by his current financial status. “Eh, sad but true.” Clearly he was under the impression that you would fix everything wrong with his life.

Poor fool.

“Now y'all gotta get hitched but hitchin' ties ya down.” You reach across the table to cup his chin, painted lips forming a condescending pout. “You just wanna be free, hop from place to place.” Your expression turns serious. “But freedom takes green.”

The flames belonging to the multiple candles scattered throughout the room flitter and turn green. “It's the green, it's the green, it's the green you need. And when I look into your future-” You hold up a green card which takes on the appearance of money. “It's the green that I see.”

It explodes into a puff of purple smoke and floats, seeming much like a living, breathing creature, towards Leonardo, prepared to envelop him in a dank darkness and never let go. He attempts to swat it away only to have it thicken, elongated wisps tightening around his throat, like bony fingers, stealing his ability to breathe.

You smirk at his predicament but continue as though you don't notice the bulging of his eyes as he fights for a decent breath. “On you, little man, I don't want to waste much time; you've been pushed ‘round all your life. You've been pushed ‘round by your mother, and your sister, and your brother. And if you was married, you'd be pushed around by your wife – though I suspect women come as little distraction to you, hm?”

At a click of your fingers, the smoke disappears and is replaced by a card visible to his eyes only. An insatiable hunger brews beneath his lashes as he stares longingly at the card depicting him as a King, with Ezio on all fours, licking the toe of his perfectly polished boot.

“But in your future, the you I see, is exactly the man you always wanted to be.”

A look was exchanged, one which contained a knowledge understood by only the pair of you - you both had been belittled and humiliated. Treated like scum in the gutter. And it was time to repay the favour.

Ezio needed to pay the price.

“Shake my hand.” You urge, extending both hands, fingers wiggling in subtle encouragement. “C'mon, boys, won't you shake a poor sinners hand?”

The roles seem to have reversed; whilst Leonardo's hand latches onto your own, every trace of previous hesitancy completely dispelled from his body, Ezio appears rather reluctant.

It comes as no surprise, really. The man has never committed to a single thing in his life.

You hope a flirtatious smile is enough to persuade him – it is.

“Yes...”

Both hands are shaken and the deal is finalised. At last. The time had finally come for Ezio Auditore to pay. To suffer every minute of every day until the last, agonising breath leaves his withering body.

You were positively giddy, eyes growing wild with insane glee. “Are you ready?”

The room responds immediately to those words; it crackles with energy, twisted images from the darkest recesses of your mind appearing throughout the entirety of the room. The voodoo masks cleverly disguised as hanging ornaments spring to life, their demonic cackling reverberating around the room. Ghastly shadows of indescribable entities scratch and claw at the wall, impatient, like savage beasts awaiting their next meal. Flames from the fireplace rise into the air, licking at the walls and furniture, threatening to set the room and all its inhabitants ablaze.

“Are you ready?”

Venomous snakes materialise from the armrests of Ezio's chair and wind themselves around his body. He grunts as they tighten, honeyed orbs frantically sweeping the room, panic and confusion rising beneath his lashes.

“Transformation Central!”

Leonardo cowers behind a floor-to-ceiling tapestry, one foot working on kicking away an animated voodoo doll currently attempting to yank the tapestry from his gloved hands.

“Reformation Central!”

Your hand withdraws from the opened mouth of a voodoo mask, a special talisman in the shape of a tiki mask dangling from your fingertips.

“Transmogrification Central!”

Ezio struggles against the snakes that bind him in a pathetic attempt of escape when seeing you approach. Beads of perspiration trickle down his forehead and drip onto the floor after reaching the tip of his nose. A frightened ‘No, wait!’ escapes him right before the talisman bites down on the tip of his finger with enough force to draw blood.

Your eyes are painfully bright in the smoggy dimness of the room, dancing with ecstasy and madness. “Can you feel it?”

A formidable green light erupts from the Prince's chest, ripping a blood-curdling scream from his throat. Its tendrils weave around his every limb, enveloping the entirety of his body. Shock and horror contorts the butler's features, his hands flying to his eyes, disallowing him to watch.

“You're changing, you're changing, you're changing alright! I hope you're satisfied. But if you ain't, don't blame me. You can blame my friends on the other side!”

You got what you wanted, but lost what you had.

The Loa chant the words repeatedly as you cackle, the entire room surging with power until the transformation is complete; everything goes back to how it was originally once the light that had cocooned Ezio's body dissipates, revealing a little green frog.

“Beautiful.” You practically croon, scooping up the skittish amphibian. “I think I'll call you Ezio.”

Leonardo fidgets with the tips of his gloves upon approaching, a lump clearly visible in his throat. “Is...is that it?”

Your take offence to his words and frown. “What do you mean, ‘is that it'?”

He finally risks a glance in Ezio's direction. “This entire charade was all so you could turn him into a frog? I thought...”

“Thought what?”

He hesitates. “I thought you meant to kill him.”

“Kill?” You have to laugh at that. “Oh, honey, I'm a businesswoman, not a murderer.”

The expression upon the butler's face indicate that he's in no way satisfied with the arrangement, but this was your act of revenge, not his – if he wished to kill him later, that was his choice.

“Fine, but now what do we do with him?”

“Fare con me (Do with me)?” Ezio suddenly spoke, making Leonardo look as though he had just laid eyes on a ghost. “You're not going to do anything with me except revert the spell and release me!”

“He...he can talk!”

You examine Ezio carefully, ignoring his shouts of protest as you dangle him upside down by his hind leg. “Hm, that's odd.”

“Odd?” Leonardo appeared close to yanking his own hair out. “It's a nightmare! What do we do?!”

“Not sure – this has never happened to me before. It's rather embarrassing, really.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better? I thought you were a professional!”

“I am a professional! But all magic has side effects."

“Si, except this side effect has a loud mouth and can reveal to everyone what we've done!”

You roll your eyes to the ceiling. So dramatic. No wonder everyone in his life pushed him around. “Relax, honey. I have no intention of letting our little frog Prince escape.” You drop Ezio into a glass jar, giggling whilst watching him pathetically attempt to leap to freedom. The tip of your finger delicately circles the opening of the jar. “Poor little darling doesn't even know how to use his new body yet. But don't you worry my little Prince...I'm going to take very good care of you.”