Assassin's Creed Modern One Shots

Piracy and Pity

A/N: So here I am again after a few weeks. My mental health has really declined but I have tried my absolute best to finish this nevertheless. Now, I kinda got annoyed with the whole (Y/N) thing. Surely I'm not the only one who reads it as 'whyen' instead of inserting your name, right? Anyway, in place of it, I've just put an underlined space to put your name and I'll edit the other ones as I go. Because why not? I was going to make this chapter way better but I ran out of inspiration, ugh. I want to add the Frye twins now that I've finished Syndicate as well, so there's that to look forward to. Stay alert, I'll return eventually xx

"What are we doing this weekend?" Or, "what's the plan?" Or, "whose turn is it to choose?" By 'whose turn', he referred to the roster you had organised as a group. Taking the time with Arno many weeks ago, you both had made the poster that you currently had rolled up in your bag, decorated with a variety of glittery stickers, coloured markers and fluorescent highlighters, all purely for the hell of it. Since you all forgot whose turn it was this week, you unsheathed the poster from its resting place to give everyone some clarity. Scanning every face in the gang-like circle, you unveiled the truth, flattening out the paper and grinning slyly.

"Guess who's up this week?" Winking, you request for a drum roll, your companions complying without hesitation. "Connor!" Aveline clapped, enthused. Ezio scrunched his face up, displeased when it wasn't his name being called. Altaïr's features hadn't faltered, Desmond shrugged carelessly and most importantly, Connor's reaction. His warm toned skin had paled tremendously, like he'd witnessed a ghost travel past him. If you stared at him long enough, you were sure you could count every freckle across his complexion. He swallowed, uneasy eyes meeting your gaze. For a reason unexplainable to you, he didn't like that he was being nominated for the honour. Connor hummed a few anxiety filled notes, but he found no words worth speaking.

"Looks like 'baby bear' doesn't want his turn, I'll gladly take his!" Ezio mocked, his arm launching into the air and waving like a child seeking the attention of his tutor. "Please, ____?" The Italian pouted profusely, keen to act on whatever plan it was that he had formed in that peculiar brain of his. Frowning, you focused your view back onto the blanched skin of your best friend, who had busied himself with gnawing away at his bottom lip rather than the sandwich that was misshapen by his giant hand.

"Con'?" At the inflection of the calling, you lightly nestled your hand on his broad shoulder, attempting to pull him away from the unknown threat that had been presented before him. "Hey, cub, you still in there?" Your thumb traced the muscles beneath his plain white t-shirt, again trying to snap him out of his trance. A third time, you called for him. "Ratonhnhakè:ton?" This he turned for. You rarely used his birth name during school hours, so this sent the message that you were worried for him. The colour in his cheeks reverted back to their initial tanned tones and the fire you always saw burning in his brown eyes flared, informing you that he was still there. Somewhere.

"I was hoping you would have chosen Ezio, ____." At this, Ezio cheered, seeing this as a point on a non-existent scoreboard. So far, the roster was proving everyone otherwise. "We could do Ezio's activity first, mine would not benefit anyone here." Connor's head lowered to redirect the stares of anyone who dared look his way. Arno's eyes narrowed shamelessly, scowling at Connor's boycott manoeuvre.

"Merde, don't go ruining the schedule. Ezio was last week, remember?" Arno folded his arms tightly, closing himself off, irritated by the memory of the past and the potential barrier of the future.

"But wasn't that fun?" Aveline intervened with some positive comments on the matter. This only made Arno's glare intensify, elaborating,

"Desmond spilled his drink all over my pants, Ezio harassed me the entire night and ____ stole my hoodie and ran away with it. If you think that was fun —" he sank half of his water bottle there and then, evidently replaying the scenes in his head.