#the man just wants to chill in his catacombs

[persnicketypomelo]

hi! imagine reader trying to escape leroux erik and running into him in the catacombs 🤭 he's just as shocked to see them as they are to see him

obsession, grabbing, dark behaviour, not romantic but horror, spoilers

I'm going off of the part of the novel where Leroux describes a mermaid that he has in the water around his house or something. I think it's the one that drowned Philippe.

Encountering Erik in the Catacombs

From the wording/context I’m imagining that the Phantom has kidnapped you and is secluding you in his underground home

To escape this far you would need to be stubbornly determined

He left you at his home to run some errands, so the boat would not be at your disposal to bring you across the lake

Swimming it was then

When he had first kidnapped you, you swear that you saw a dark figure lurking at the bottom of the lake

And if you recall, he had mentioned something of a mermaid in his lake

Believing in such fairy tales as mermaids is a tall order, but from such an unusual man, you might actually believe the impossible

Whatever you faced in that murky lake, it would be better than staying confined here for a second longer

So you strip down to your undergarments and ease your way into the cold water

The water chills your skin and soddens your clothes

An uncomfortable feeling, no doubt, but nothing in comparison to the peril you soon face

Suddenly a hand grasps your ankle, pulling you down into the depths

You lash against the iron grip, kicking your feet as your life depends on it

Sinking down, you're forced to swallow in mouthfuls of lake water

I'm going to die here, at the bottom of a lake, all alone

But with a particularly strong kick, you manage to dislodge the offending hand and swim frantically to the other side of the lake

Needless to say, you were now thoroughly disturbed, and you weren't sure what was more terrifying

The fact that what you felt was certainly a human hand grabbing at you

Or the fact that Erik had such...creatures, real and in the flesh

He had certainly was a man for tricks and illusions, but this was the first scrape of real danger and potential lethality you had encountered in his traps

Nonetheless, there is no way you're going back now--not with that...thing...lurking at the bottom

And the adrenaline coursing through you propels you into the unkown

You can't go back

You can't

Sopping wet and wandering into the endless dark caverns, with no way of knowing what progress (or lack thereof) was not your ideal scenario, yet still it was progress nonetheless

The chill seeps from the uninviting cavern walls to your bones, and all you can manage to do is shiver profusely while you navigate aimlessly through the terrain

I'd like to think that, in a more horror/supernatural interpretation, the Phantom has some developed supernatural connection with the darkness

He wouldn't need to use a torch to navigate through his labryinth if he really didn't want to

In such a dark place, many metres beneath the chaotic upper floor of the opera house, every little sound can be heard through the quiet expanse

So when you hear the faint rustle of a cloak, the coldth in your skin seeps to your blood and you feel ice chill your veins through all extremities

You feel the phantom's intense eyes, filled with anger, before he confirms his presence

Thin, skeletal hands seize your wrists and your captor makes an angry, hissing sound

A snake about to strike its prey

Your captor's voice is laced with faux amusement, sardonic, as if prodding you into testing him

"Going somewhere?"

His laugh is derisive, joyless, covering a barely contained rage and hurt

"I believe, my dear, we should be heading back,"

His piercing eyes freeze your muscles, and you feel you can't move no matter how much your inner voice scream to

"We have much to discuss, and you have much to explain."

[avengerscompound]

The Interview - Chapter 10

The Interview - A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Rating:  E

Warnings:  some foreplay and mentions of sex

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Melody Danes

Word Count:   2164

Summary:  Melody Danes gets the break of a lifetime when as a lowly intern, she’s assigned to write a profile piece on Captain America.  Steve Rogers is a hard man not to fall for and as she and Melody get closer and Melody’s career takes off, jealousy leads to sabotage, and the potential to bring her whole world crashing down.

Chapter 10

Steve Rogers was like no man Melody had ever spent time with before.  Not just because he was a genetically enhanced, super-soldier that was over a hundred years old, and spent his time saving the world.  Even taking out the ways he was obviously unlike anyone else on the planet, he was still rather exceptional.  He had this old-school idea of dating, where they did go on physical dates.  It was never just Netflix and Chill.  They always went out and did something together, but because there was his fame to contest with, it wasn’t a simple case of going out for dinner and a movie.  Yet, Steve made it work.  He was good at picking restaurants where he knew that New York’s unofficial rule of leaving celebrities alone would be adhered to when they did eat out, but more often they did other things.  They went to the theater and on a private tour of the catacombs under St Patrick’s old cathedral.  He took her to a private party at MOMA, and a special presentation at the American Museum of Natural History.

Each date was surprising and it was easy to tell he was thinking hard about ways to keep her entertained.  Melody was excited to get to see a side of New York that she had never even imagined she’d get to experience - let alone on the arm of Steve Rogers.  Part of her wished that he would relax a little and they could just get to know each other on a more personal domestic level, but she knew she couldn’t rush Steve into getting to that moment.  One thing she’d learned about Steve was that he didn’t think he deserved to have that kind of domestic connection, so she would wait.  It wasn’t as if she was rushing to get to marriage and kids either.  She’d worked so hard to get to where she was, she was far from ready to risk it by settling down.  Besides, sometimes the dates made good writing material.

She wouldn’t write about Steve, of course.  Or at least she didn’t write about Steve and publish it.  Her private journals spoke in detail about Steve and how she felt about him.  She wrote about the things they did together, how she was falling for him, and her fears about dating a celebrity and a man who risks his life so regularly on the job.  She wrote about what it felt like when she had his entire attention and what his lips felt like when they kissed.  She wrote about the dates in detail from the moment he showed up to the moment they parted ways, and from those journals, she’d pick out the information about the venues of the date and had started writing a regular column in the magazine about the secret treasures in New York seen by an outsider who was being guided by a local and through the lens of someone falling in love.  It never mentioned love or dating or Steve at all, and yet it was proving to be pretty popular and meant that she was now earning a steady paycheck from the DB, which was boosted anytime she submitted one of her profile pieces.

It didn’t matter how the dates started, they did always end the same.  Steve would always walk Melody to her apartment building and kiss her goodnight at the door.  He never came up if she asked, and never asked if she didn’t.  She wished he would - though sex in her apartment was far from easy given the sharing arrangement she had with Bobbi, but she did want to have sex with him, and if not sex, a makeout session would do.

But she could wait for that too.  She wasn’t in the business of rushing anyone into physical intimacy.

Tonight Steve had taken Melody to a 1930’s 1930s-themed party in the Rainbow Room to celebrate the anniversary of the Rockefeller Center being opened.  She had never imagined seeing the inside of the Rainbow Room, let alone attending such a big event in a deep-red, floor-length, 1940s style, satin gown with lace overlay, on the arm of Captain Steve Rogers.  Steve had looked so good in his dark blue suit with red pinstripes.  He had accessorized with a blue trench coat with red satin lining and a dark grey fedora.  He was a guest of honor given he’d been living in New York when the building was being constructed and when it had opened to the public, and he’d given a speech about how he’d used to watch the buildings go up in Manhattan from the docks in Brooklyn.

It had been such a good night.  She had made good connections and gotten to dance with Steve while imagining that it was the two of them dancing his return from the war.  The food had been amazing and the room was everything she’d dreamed it would be.  As Melody walked home with her arm looped around Steve’s, even as they chatted about the night, her mind raced with ideas for her column and future interviews.

They reached her doorstep and she turned to Steve as her hand ran down his arm and into his hand. “Please come up,” he said.  “I’m still buzzing.  We can have a drink.  I promise no ulterior motives.  Not unless you have them.”

Steve’s fingers curled around Melody's, and his gaze shifted from her down the street, to the window two floors up, and then back to her again, his blue eyes locking with her brown ones.

“Sure,” he said.  “Just a drink.”

Butterflies began to flutter around in her stomach as she led him upstairs and into her apartment.

“It’s bigger than the one I shared with Bucky when we first moved out together,” Steve said as he stepped into the room and glanced around.  “I mean, or starters, there���s a whole bedroom over there,” he added, pointing to the door to Bobbi’s bedroom.  “I think your living room is about the entire space we had including the kitchen and bathroom.”

“So what did you have?  A twin bed and a kitchen table?” Melody asked.

“Pretty much,” Steve said. “I used to sleep on the floor on a pile of cushions.”

Melody laughed and turned, cupping his jaw as she looked up at him. “I’m sorry, I just pictured you curled up like a little puppy.  It was a very cute mental image.”

He laughed with her and leaned down to peck her lips. “I’m glad my tiny shoe box home is entertaining to you.”

“Aww,” she teased and leaned up and kissed him again. “I’m sorry.  Go sit down.  I’m gonna make you a drink Bobbi invented. It’s gonna make you hate me, but it’s nice and you should see it.”

“Why would I hate you for it?” he asked curiously.

“Wait and see,” she answered, practically skipping to the kitchenette.  “Get comfy.  I won’t be long.”

Steve continued to poke around her things as Melody began to make the two cocktails.  She muddled raspberries at the bottom of the glasses and then filled the glasses with crushed ice, added coconut rum, and topped it off with a butterfly pea flower-infused gin.  She brought the two glasses out with straws and handed Steve his.  He laughed and shook his head. “The old red, white, and blue, huh?  Can’t escape it.”

She sat down next to him and nudged him. “If a girl can’t tease her boyfriend, who can?”

He smiled and looked at her with soft eyes. “That’s the first time I’ve heard you call me that.”

“Is that too soon?” she asked.  “I mean - I know we haven’t -” her eyes flicked to the partitioned-off section of the room that her bed was hidden behind.

“No, no,” Steve said quickly.  “Not too soon.  I like it.  You’re my girlfriend.”

He leaned in and kissed her.  As his lips brushed over hers, she put her glass on the coffee table and wrapped her arms around him, deepening the kiss.  His glass joined hers and he guided her back on the couch as he kissed her passionately.  His tongue teased into her mouth and she brought hers out to meet it, swirling them together.  She spread her legs and he moved between them, grinding down on her as his lips moved with hers.

Melody’s whole body was thrumming and her heart was racing.  She had not expected this at all.  She thought she would have rambled about how good the night was and shown Steve all the business cards she had collected from the famous and powerful.  She wanted to talk about his speech and for him to elaborate on it to learn more about the things that were important to the Steve Rogers who wasn’t on display.  She had expected Steve to need more time.

Now her cunt was dripping for him and she wanted nothing more than for him to strip off her gown and to feel him inside her.

Unfortunately, that was the moment Bobbi returned home from work.

“Oh, god,” she said as she opened the front door.  “Shit.  Ignore me.  I’m not even here.”

Steve was already scrambling back off Melody and Melody sat up, straightening herself off.  “What time is it?” she asked.

“A bit after one,” she answered as she hurried toward her room.  “Seriously.  Please, don’t let me stop you.”

“It’s fine, Bobbi,” Steve said.

Bobbi was already ducking into her room and she quickly waved her hand to dismiss him.  Steve let out a breath and picked up the cocktail, taking a long drink.

“I’m sorry,” Melody said.  “This is the worst setup for bringing people home.”

Steve shook his head. “It’s okay.  I got carried away.  If it’s okay with you, I’d like our first time to be a little more special.  Maybe we can go away for the weekend.”

Melody tilted her head.  She really had never met anyone like Steve Rogers before.  “Are you sure?  I’d be happy with a room with a lock on it.  We could always go back to your place.”

He nodded. “I know it’s putting a little pressure on it, but I think it’d be nice to do.  Old school.”

“Can I ask you something personal?” Melody asked.  Steve gave a brief nod. “Will it be your first time?”

Steve smiled and shook his head. “No.  I know I give off those vibes.  My number is low, but there is a number.”

“It wouldn’t have mattered.  I just really don’t want you to feel like you’ll be letting me down if you need time,” she said, taking his hand.

“You’re something else, you know that,” he said and kissed her cheek.

“So are you, Steve,” she whispered.

“I’ll check my calendar and book something. We can go upstate.  It’ll be nice,” he said.

“Sounds good,” she agreed.

Steve took another sip of the drink. “This is good by the way.  What’s on top?”

“Gin,” she said.  “I like how it goes with the rum.  It takes away some of the sweetness.”

“Why is it blue?” he asked.

“It’s infused with butterfly pea flowers.  If you add an acid it’ll turn purple,” she said. 

Steve gave an impressed nod and took another sip before putting the glass down.  “I should be going.  Say goodnight to Bobbi for me.”

“Will do,” Melody said, standing with him.  She walked him to the door and kissed him goodnight.  “Thank you for tonight. I had a great time.”

“I’m really glad you were there with me,” he said. “It felt a lot less like work.”

She watched him leave and shut the door, when she turned around Bobbi was standing in the doorway to her bedroom. “Sorry about the cockblock, cuz,” she said.

Melody laughed and shook her head.  “It’s fine.  I don’t think he was ready yet.”

“Yeah, I’m taking it slow with Bucky too,” she said. “But then - that has a lot to do with me.”

“Work or you haven’t told him yet?” Melody asked, picking up both glasses and bringing them over to Bobbi.  She offered Bobbi her untouched drink, and Bobbi took it and took a sip.

“Both,” she said with a sigh. “I hate telling people that I’m seeing when they don’t already know.  But I do really like him.  He’s quiet, but that kind of quiet where there’s something a little wicked under the surface waiting to come out.”

“You want me to feel around, see if I can get a vibe of how he’ll react?” she asked.

Bobbi pursed her lips and then took another long drink. “Okay.  Yes.  Please can you?  I give you permission to out me to Steve if you think he will keep it to himself.”

“Alright,” she said and hugged Bobbi.  “I love you, you know?”

“I love you too,” she said, hugging her back.  “Our lives are pretty crazy, right?”

Melody laughed and nodded. “You’re telling me.”

// NEXT

[madangel19]

I saw your murder ghoul starters and was wondering if “There’s no hiding from me. I can smell your blood.” With Cirrus and Copia

Hell yeah, Anon! Murder ghoulette Cirrus coming right up!

Warnings: Some blood and violence, but nothing too graphic

Words: 1391

The ministry catacombs seemed to go on forever the more Copia ran. He wanted to stop to see just how bad the bite in his arm was, but if he so much as stopped, then he was a dead man. Why did he come down here alone with the ghoulette knowing that the full moon would affect her in some way? He should have had another ghoul come along, but would that have put him in even more danger? It was very likely. 

Copia picked up the pace when he heard a bone-chilling scream behind him. Why did he have to be so clumsy and accidentally cut himself? He wouldn’t have been in this situation then. He just wanted to find a rat that Cirrus had found and then it all went downhill. The rat was probably long gone now. 

Copia noticed an open doorway up ahead. He wasn’t sure where it would lead, but hopefully it would give him time to hide. He turned into the room and shut it behind him, locking it. It wouldn’t hold long, but anything was welcome at this point. There was a dimly lit candle that illuminated the open room. There wasn’t much to the room, but he noticed five more closed doors ahead of him. He picked the middle one and went through it. There was barely anything in the room besides a wardrobe and a bed. Copia got down on his knees and crawled under the bed, pulling the blanket down from the edge and covering himself as much as he could. 

He took a deep breath to calm himself as he gazed into the dark. Was his time finally up? Was this the clergy’s plan to take him out and replace him like they did with his brothers? The very thought made him sick to his stomach, but nothing came up just yet. He had to hide and hope for the best.

Moments passed and he could hear an angry growl from the connecting room before there was a sickening crunch that sounded like wood splintering. The ghoulette’s strength was something to be admired, but at the moment, it terrified him. She could easily tear him apart with ease. The growls were much louder now as heavy footsteps filled the air. The growls died down to low chitters as the door to the room Copia was hiding in opened. Copia covered his mouth, not daring to move.

“There’s no hiding from me, Copia. I can smell your blood,” Cirrus hissed, her voice soft but deadly. 

He didn’t want to die like this. This was a miserable way to die. Hiding like a little rat until the cat eventually found him and tore him to pieces. He could only hope that it didn’t last long. 

Moments passed and Copia noticed her feet standing right by the bed. The blanket was pulled away and he gasped as the ghoulette lifted the bed. He looked up and saw her red glowing eyes gazing down at him hungrily, illuminating her wicked sharp-toothed smile.

He was about to start begging for mercy before he noticed a familiar pair of purple glowing eyes on the ceiling watching the two of them. Cirrus tossed the bed to the side and as soon as it landed on the ground, the figure on the ceiling dropped down on Cirrus, pinning her down. Cirrus yelped in surprise, struggling to get free from Swiss who refused to move.

“Run, Papa! Get to the others!” Swiss ordered. 

“No! Give him to me! I need him!” Cirrus screamed, lashing out at Swiss before turning to reach out to Copia. Copia was at a loss for words before something within told him to get up. He jumped to his feet and ran past the tangled mess of limbs and tails. Cirrus swiped at his ankle, nearly tripping him. 

Copia glanced back at the two of them as they fought. Seeing them fight, even if it was playful, was always a scary sight, but seeing them actually fight to the possible death was even scarier. Hopefully, Swiss would subdue the enraged ghoulette enough to calm her down, but an enraged ghoulette was a powerful ghoulette.

Copia was back in the main hallway of the catacombs when he heard a pained howl from Swiss.

“Papa run!” Swiss cried out weakly.

Copia did as he was told and ran deeper into the catacombs. He would have gone the other way, but he didn’t want to lead her back to the church where she could hurt innocent siblings. 

He was nearly close to collapsing now, the pain in his shoulder becoming all the more intense. He had to stop, but where were the others? Swiss said they were coming to help. Was this a trick? No, it couldn’t be. Why would the multi ghoul put himself at risk if this was a trick?

“Papa!” A familiar voice exclaimed.

Copia stopped in his tracks and noticed Cumulus opening a door up ahead, Sunshine and Aurora were behind her, looking absolutely terrified. She motioned for him to come forward as the rest of the pack came pouring out from different side doors to form a protective wall between him and the blood-thirsty ghoulette who had just run out into the catacombs behind him. Cirrus stopped in her tracks when she noticed was happening. 

“Give him to me. It’s a full moon and I want him,” Cirrus growled, her teeth bared angrily. 

“We’re not gonna do that, Cirrus,” Aether grumbled.

“Papa, let’s go,” Sunshine pleaded, rushing over to his side and tugging at his bloodied sleeve. There was a hungry look in her eyes when she saw the blood pouring from his wound, but she shook her head with a soft chirp. 

“Don’t…Don’t hurt her. It…This is…all a misunderstanding, miei cari amici,” Copia said.

Swiss came trudging down the hallway, looking disgruntled and bloody, but as soon as he saw what was happening, he sprung into action.

“Cirrus, we’ll get you something better to eat. You know we never hurt Papa,” the multi ghoul grumbled, circling the ghoulette. Rain, Dewdrop, and Mountain joined him while Phantom and Aether stayed back, creating a wall.

“Let’s go now, Papa,” Aurora said, tugging at his other sleeve. Cumulus kept a hand on the door, her tear-filled gaze never leaving Cirrus. 

“No, I want Papa,” Cirrus hissed, lunging forward. Rain, Swiss, Dewdrop, and Mountain immediately piled on top of her as she let out a feral scream that made Copia’s blood run cold. The ghoulettes immediately dragged him into the doorway, closing it shut. 

“I’m so sorry, Papa. I should have come with you two,” Cumulus wept as they ran together in the dark.

“Don’t cry, mia cara. Hopefully some… some sense will be knocked into Cirrus and she will be back to her normal self,” Copia replied, hissing in pain as the wound in his shoulder irritated him even more. Hopefully he was right.

It wasn’t long before they came across one of the many exits of the catacombs that led to the ghoul den. The ghoulettes got him to the biggest couch in the ghoul den and sat him down.

“Do you think you can make it to the medical wing, Papa?” Aurora asked, looking like she was on the verge of tears. 

“I just need to rest. Give me a…a moment,” Copia replied, touching his chest and feeling his still rapidly beating heart. He took a few deep breaths and groaned as he laid back. The trio of ghoulettes knelt by his side, nuzzling him and cooing over him. He never realized just how tired he was until now. A nap wouldn’t hurt at a time like this.

The last thing he remembered was seeing Cumulus bring out some bandages while Aether appeared by his side. He could feel the calming quintessence radiating from the ghoul as he slowly drifted off into sleep. Sunshine was resting her head on his chest, her warmth and her purrs easing his pain even more.

“Cirrus is still down in the catacombs. She’s better after we restrained her for a bit, but she needs some time alone. She says she feels awful about hurting you and Swiss, Papa,” the quintessence ghoul explained to him.

Copia smiled, knowing that she was okay. Everyone was going to be okay.

[teecupangel]

So since I saw the corgi Desmond Idea for yew branches, all I can think about is if someone else get reincarnated alongside desmond as another dog. Like say Altair somehow gets reincarnated as a dog, thinking Saluki or Dobermann, too. Also because I find it amusing to think about him yoinking Corgi Desmond because he glows gold. And Desmond who was just chilling in his bag wondering why this dog just snatched him. Along with Jacob having to chase after this surprisingly sneaky dog, who somehow keeps out maneuvering him as he tries to get the Desmond back. Just kept thinking about this when I saw the idea :)

Okay, so nonny, there’s this movie I love as a kid. Used to rewatch it a lot. It’s called Cats & Dogs and it’s such a dumb movie but kid!me loved it so when I read this, I just remember that movie and you know what.

Screw eagle symbolism.

Corgi!Desmond gets yoinked by this bigass dog just as Jacob finally got him from those thugs who stole him from his sweet mom and Desmond is just…

He is sooooo done with this day.

He just wants to go home, take a long bath with the right temperature of water and with two maids massaging him as they clean him then sleep on his comfy doggie bed (which is the fluffiest pillow in the whole Disraeli household. He dragged it out of the Disraeli couple’s bed himself, damn it.)

But he can’t do that because this big ass Canaan dog stole him from what may or may not be an actual Assassin (FINALLY! Where the hell have they all been???) and this was also the perfect way to see how good the Assassin was.

…

…

…

He sucked.

And Desmond wasn’t even sure if the Assassin was just that bad or if this dog that has now dognapped him was just too good?

He was sure that this fucking dog just did a leap of faith and that was a sentence Desmond didn’t think he would ever think about.

This fucking life…

Finally, the big dog managed to shake the Assassin off by diving inside a hole that was just small enough for him but definitely too small for the Assassin. From there, Desmond realized that they were in some kind of underground…

Were those bones?

Oh fuck.

They were in the catacombs.

Desmond finally turned to face the dog and tried to say “Hey, man. I have a home. Just let me go and I won’t bite you.” even though he knew none of the animals he tried to talk to could understand him.

But this dog just went and said through gritted teeth as he kept his jaws clamped on the handles of Desmond's bag, “I’d like to see you try, little one.”

And Desmond’s just… BSOD.

What the fuck.

The dog talked.

He understood Desmond.

And Desmond understood him.

What the ever living fuck.

Too surprised by the sudden appearance of another talking dog, Desmond just let the big dog take him to one of the the deeper catacombs and…

Holy shit.

Was that…

He was pretty sure those clothes in the middle of the room was some kind of Isu clothes similar to what Minerva and Juno wore.

Oh great.

The dog who kidnapped him must be some kind of Isu bullshit that Desmond didn’t want to deal with.

And he was just finally getting used to being a lazy dog.

That’s when he hears another voice…

A more familiar voice.

“You brought another one, Altaïr?”

And a Maremma Sheepdog walks towards them as the Canaan Dog dropped his bag to the floor. He looked at Desmond and sniffed him, making Desmond freeze, before gasping.

“Altaïr, this dog smells like he takes a bath everyday. Did you steal him?”

“I stole him from one of those novices.”

And now that Desmond heard the dog’s name, he realized that, yeah, the dog also sound so fucking familiar. He didn’t realize it before because his voice and words had been a bit hard to understand since he had been holding the handles of Desmond’s bag with his teeth.

“The woman or the man?”

“The man.”

“Ah, poor boy.”

“That doesn’t mean you should steal someone’s dog.” Another familiar voice said and Desmond’s eyes widened even further as he saw a…

Holy shit.

Wolf?

No.

A wolfdog.

And that was the day Desmond realized that he wasn’t the only Assassin to have been reincarnated as a dog.

.

.

The Canine Brotherhood’s main mission?

To find and stop the perpetrators of the disappearing cats and dogs in London!

Evidence suggests that the Templars are involved and they have a lead.

They go to a warehouse that was supposed to be abandoned. Instead, it is filled with dogs and cats that are weirdly docile.

And learn the true perpetrators!

The Feline Templar Rite!

Ronron de Sabmiaou!

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Cesare Bormiao!

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Charmeow Lee!

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And they have the BALL OF EDEN! NO ANIMAL CAN WITHSTAND ITS MIND CONTROL WHEN IT ROLLS!

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AND IT IS UP TO THE CANINE BROTHERHOOD TO STOP THEM!

Altaïr Ibn-La’Ahauhau

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Ezio Baubauditore da Firenze

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Connor Kenwoffwoff

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Desmond Disraeli (He comes from a rich family and no, he will not accept Desmond Milyipyip)

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And, yes, Desmond is the only small dog in their Brotherhood and he hates it. They can easily pick him up using his nice bag. It's embarrassing but it means he doesn't have to walk which is a plus. (All dogs except Desmond are supposed to be native in the Assassin's birthplace)

On the other hand, yes. I did base the Templar cats on a bald cat, a cat who looks like he'll throw a temper tantrum, and a cat with a mustache without a care if they're native to each Templar's birthplace.

(In my defense… I should be sleeping already. I cannot be held responsible for whatever crazy idea my sleep-deprived brain comes up with)

[fantomette22]

*Knock knock*

FANTOMETTTTEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

Since your Elden Ring adventure's nearing an end (I think?? idk) Tell me about your favourite characters!

And have some cookies too cos you deserve them!: 🍪

*OPEN DOOR* BIMBOM !!

My first adventure in the lands between is indeed toward its end (I'm 135h in I think) ! (I forgot to answered you last time sorry too XD) I just need to finished some catacombs and stuff at the mountain tops, the fire giant, Farum Azula, Mohg & Malenia (+ I reach the frenzied flame too! so I might do that too but I need to be sure to have the needle) and I think I did almost everything else ? I think ?? maybe I forgot 1-2 catacombs or a few optional bosses (oh yeah I need to do the bell bearing hunters...) but I think I might have done almost everything else ?? (don't don't ask me for all the items & papers lol XD )

I have the week in vacation so I might try to finished it this week. (Gonna try to stream my attempts at Malenia too...omg...)

So, besides it would probably take hours to talked about all the characters + I don't know everything yet but let's go with the few I liked the most I think.

Ranni my beloved ❤️ I really like her ! (wow what a surprise. But somehow I feel her quest would be more impactful + have more meaning after doing the game a first time)

I really like Iji & Blaidd too T_T

Torrent my dear companion! idk what I would have done without him XD we live quite crazy adventures !

A shame we didn't see Melina too much too... but towards the end I found the little bit of dialogue & hidden bit of lore about her super interesting ?! I know she won't take it well but Melina I just wanna help you...

Rya and Boc my beloved !!! I love them so much they need to be protected ! Miriel too :D (and Kale is cool)

Millicent !! oh dear... I was like : oh yes she's cooI ! It's sad how we first found her. But now I finished her quest and it's the first time I cried in this game ! "Come on Milli Malenia is just around the corner ! What are you even talking about ??" I feel smt is weirdly missing... I thought se wanted to see malenia... she was in the prayer room and then... (I need to post the beautiful pic I took. I wanna draw it ;-;)

I understand now why you all love her so much. I need to catch up with your fic and re read Stolen soon ! (now I will actually get all the ref and understand everything XD)

Latenna goat summon too (with Mimic, Rollo & the wolves lol) ! Can't wait to fight alongside Finlay too ! She seems to be the ultimate mvp

Oh Sellen too... maybe she's not a nice person (idk what she really done but it may be bad?) but she always was nice to me.

About the roundtable now! (I mean I like everyone except Gideon and the dung eater lmao) ! Aka Roderika (one of the best clearly! idk what I would have done without her), Rogier (he deserved better ;-;), Fia (what a really interesting character! D and his bro too), I didn't finished Hewg storyline but interesting so far...

Goldmask is fun but poor Coryhn... Hyetta too man ;-; (girl you're blind how-)

Big Boggart really start as annoying as Patches to ended up as a true bro

Nepheli is incredible ! (+ Gostoc & Kenneth amazing storm veil squad i think they're funny together XD)

Hello I love Fortissax so much too ! (one of the best boss fight for now) I need to know more about Forti and Godwyn !!! omg I have some thoughts!!!

And omg don't get me started and Vyke & Lansseax + Vyke's maiden T_T what went wrong hm ?!?!?!

I finished Gurranq quest too! Well a bit crazy but who isn't but really interesting willing to help

Oh like Alexander too ! And his newphew ! I think he's still chilling in the lava XD (I mean the other tarnished helping us are cool) and wow Diallos... I found he was a bit dumb at first... but damned

Oh Morgott !!! i understand better why people simp on him so much XD he's really cool! and deserved better too

speaking of the demigod poor Rennala ;-; and Rykard is cool but I can't take him seriously with his dumb voice XD

Yura was nice... Thops too...

Oh and Miquella really seems to be the ultimate goat too... can't wait to learn more ;-; ( Myself having a lil bro I feel this siblings might end me)

Anyway they all deserve better!!!!

And I'm gonna stop here XD Thanks for the cookies too ! :D 🍪

[milady-pink]

Together in Hell

Summary: Raoul has not heard from Christin in many days and enlists the help of the Persian to find her, but what they discover shakes them to their core…

Word Count: 1964 | Graphics: @firefly-graphics

Warnings: Graphic depictions of death/ corpse, another character death, post-mortem

Part 1 Part 2

_______________________________________________________________________________

Raoul will never be able to erase the unsightly scene he had stumbled upon, deep within the bowels of the Opera Populair. Thinking back on the smells and sounds of the place made him sick enough to call the carriage driver to pull over, should he be sick. No, those gruesome sights will always be burned into the backs of his eyelids. And that chill! That deathly chill that makes him want to soak in a steamy bath and never leave his manor again.

Not after what they did to the Persian.

It had been three days and Raoul had heard not a peep from Christine. It would not have worried him so much, knowing she would be locked in her music teacher’s embrace, but she had promised to write to him. It brought a smile to his face, remembering how she had so suddenly and sadly told him that she found within herself, not love for him, but love for her teacher that she had been harboring for the past few weeks. Christine had always been so kind when she let people down, making them feel like they should be the one to apologize: and Raoul was no different. After letting her go to him he had also realized that she was right; they didn’t have much in common after all these years apart. Children can make friends with the most unlikely of people, merely because they are not experienced enough to have interests of their own.

So no, Raoul was not too upset that his once childhood sweetheart had admitted her love for another man. In fact, he was quite happy for her; she was adamant they would remain good friends, determined to salvage what remained of the children in their adulthood. After thinking about it longer he also came to the realization that his parents, mostly his older brother Philippe, would never allow him to marry someone below his class. Especially not a performer.

After going three days without any word from her at all, he began to get nervous for her wellbeing. Though Raoul had never met this infamous maestro, he knew better than to doubt Christine’s judgment when it came to musical matters, and he greatly doubted she would choose to be alone with any man who was less than a gentleman towards her or any other girl. He knew that Christine would be going back to the opera house to search for her maestro, but Raoul didn’t have a last name to go around asking for.

That was how he came upon meeting the Persian.

His name was Nadir Khan, once head of police in his homeland of Persia, working directly for the Shah himself when he came upon Erik. Everyone at the Populair called him the Persian because of how his dark skin stood out among the various olive and alabaster shades that decorated the various performers. Raoul had seen him many times when he visited Christine during rehearsals; the man knew every single person in the opera house, from stagehand to orchestra player.

As of right now Raoul the two men were trying to find their way to Erik’s underground home via his many tunnel systems; all of which had been boobytrapped one way or another. Along the way he told the young viscount how he knew ‘Erik’, and his phantom happenings around the opera, along with how his lessons with Miss Daae the new leading soprano.

“I had been meaning to pay Erik a visit,” he told Raoul as they meandered through the dusty catacombs, “he was seeming to me a little too happy. But now I fear that is no longer the case…”

Raoul was about to ask what he meant before trailing off, only to see the same sight as him. They had just stepped into an open area, consisting of stone walls and a gravel shore that fed into the infamous underground lake. What made the Persian lose his voice wasn’t the freezing air, but the wide open door leading into the house on the water. Both men looked at each other before looking back at the door. Raoul had started to move towards the door, only for his arm to be pulled back by his companion.

“We must enter with caution,” the dark skinned man warned the viscount, “we’ve no idea what lies inside there.”

Raoul answered the grave man’s face with his own reply of, “Of course we know what's in there, Christine and her teacher; two people just like you and me.”

The Persian tried to tell the viscount about Erik’s many habits of safekeeping his privacy, including the various traps they nearly avoided on the way down here, and that leaving his front door wide open was more than just odd; it could mean a dangerous intruder had entered and might still remain. Unfortunately Raoul didn’t pay attention to a word of it, too focused was he on the bizarre noises he thought was coming from inside the home.

With great trepidation, the Persian entered the lavishly decorated home, Raoul following close behind. Neither man had a weapon on them, but with a little creativity they both figured a coat rack or candlestick could be easily remedied. Thankfully they didn’t need to use either.

Unfortunately, they would have been no use against what was waiting for them.

The once beautifully decorated Louis-Philippe room, with its extravagant decorations and priceless artifacts collected from years of traveling the deserted world alone, lay in complete ruins. The Persian, no stranger to Erik’s anger nor the proceeding mess it usually leaves behind, tried to put together what may have happened and assess the danger of an imminent threat. Raoul merely looked on in awe of the destruction and chaos the once luxurious room was left in, and if his dear friend had been caught in the crossfires. He was struck from his reverie at the sound of the Persian’s accented voice.

“We should search the rest of the home for any signs of life—“

He never finished the thought, for a low groaning sound coming from the adjoining hallway had interrupted any speech. They looked at each other with the same question swimming in their eyes,

‘What was that?’

All too soon they found the answer.

Slowly, as if dragging the weight of a thousand men, walked in Erik. In no healthy condition was he; his suit was torn and frayed at the ends of his sleeves and pants, his hair sticking up in every direction like he was just awakened from a very long sleep. And his face. Gray skin with blemishes and bruises galore, taking on the appearance of a gargoyle came to life, the most colour on his person was around his mouth; a dark red, blood perhaps, long since dried. His stance was somewhat lopsided, his extreme height forcing his body to fold in on itself with the weight of his torso and lack of muscle in his back. The stench! That awful smell of rotted meat and mildew that only misted the air now assaulted their noses in full force, they both had to raise their hands to cover their senses. Raoul had somewhat prepared himself for seeing the strange phantom without his mask, but he doubted any man would have looked inviting given he too plagued the same sickness that the secret teacher possessed.

The being once known as Erik surprised both Raoul and the Persian by not dragging himself after them, but instead letting out another low groan, a bit different in pitch. Not wanting to alert the creature to their presence too much, Raoul tilted his head towards his companion and asked in a hushed whisper only he would hear.

“Where is Christine?”

But the question would be asked in vain, for on came shuffling into the sitting room was a woman, most likely after being called out by her beloved. Raoul could not believe his eyes, nor the few tears that sprung to them. His childhood friend, once thought future wife, was now nothing more than a husk of a being, dead and yet still alive. He knew from his talks on the journey down here that the former police chief was feeling similar emotions looking at his former friend. A large bite fit nastily into her delicate shoulder, accented with dried blood that once upon a time dripped onto her dress, the sleeves slipping off. The colour of her skin matched the light bluish-greens of the outside body of water, angry veins protruding from her body and face. There was no resemblance, no similarities to the people they once knew and cared deeply for before them; merely empty promises of who they knew, never again to smile or laugh the same way they used to. Those two people were lost to time, and Raoul prayed deep within his soul that they were able to find each other beyond the grave.

The standstill between the unusual quartet was broken the moment the Persian dared to speak out. “We must make our departure as quick as possible.”

The happy, and surely hungry, couple trotted towards them with Erik, being the strongest, in the lead. Tripping over her dress Christine was slower but both were incredibly inarticulate with their movements, hell bent on one thing; food. Acting quickly, the Persian grabbed Raoul by the shoulders and pushed him towards the door, their doom rising as the corpses started to gain momentum.

“I will not be long,” he told Raoul, “I always knew Erik would lead to my demise and I fear this is it. You must, for the better hood of this world, barricade the front door and never let another person walk through. Burn the house if you must, but do not let these things escape.”

“You’re not planning on staying here, do you? They’ll eat you alive!”

“My young man,” continued the dark skinned man, “you have a much longer life ahead of you filled with love and children. I will not allow one such as yourself to sacrifice for an old man like myself. All I ask, in addition to destroying this home, is that you remember the name ‘Nadir Kahn’.” They reached the door, the Persian pushing Raoul through the door, turning back to face the monsters in their home. Before he committed his last act of bravery, he looked back at the viscount to say, “I wish you good health.”

At full speed, hoping to knock them down and give the young man more time to escape, the Persian ran towards the couple, arms wide open. He greeted them halfway, wrapping his arms around each of their necks, effectively molding them to his sturdy body. Unfortunately, his muscular size was the perfect remedy for the couple’s yearning hunger. Unable to look away, Raoul watched in horror as both the maestro and student took bites out of the man, chunks of flesh flying out of their mouths, blood dribbling down their necks. The Persin, Nadir, screamed out in great agony, Raoul’s ears were left ringing from the sound.

Finally coming to his senses after feeding his deep morbid curiosity, Raoul slammed the door and began to barricade it from the outside with the biggest rocks the gravel beach had to offer. After twenty or so minutes, he felt confident that they wouldn’t be able to escape. Still fear stricken and shaking, he stepped into the boat left there by Christine and began to carry himself out of the opera bowels, finding it ended near the Rue Scribe entrance, and quickly called himself a cab to get home.

Never again would he sleep alone, always those yellow eyes and bloody mouths would greet him at night, just like they did Nadir Khan.

[thebookbindersblog]

Good afternoon,

Yesterday we had a guided tour at the catacombs of Domitilla. Unlike the Paris catacombs that were built because of the overwhelming deaths caused by the plague, these catacombs were built for religious reasons 2,000 years ago at the start of Christianity. This catacomb was built for Martyrs or how we know them now, “saints”. When Christianity first started, followers of the Pagan religion would question people and ask if they followed Christianity, those that were brave enough to say yes would be executed in horrific ways.

The picture above are burial sites. They would dig holes in the wall, put the remains of the person in, then cover them up. As you can see, there are smaller holes that were for children. We were told that back then, if the man of the household did not want to have children anymore, they would leave the children in different locations to die of exposure. Some of these spots were reserved for those innocent children.

The catacomb we went into is 4 stories below ground, but there are some that go down to 6 stories below. There were several areas that were also closed off to the public to conserve some of the frescos (paintings) that still remained.

After the catacomb we took the bus to the Spanish Steps and the Trevi Fountain. Both sites were extremely packed with people and it’s not even summer yet!

We ended the night at a restaurant near the AirBnB and may have had a bit too much wine.

Today - May 26th

Last night was a bit rough for me. I was up last night with body aches, fever, chills and an earache. We decided we were going to stay in so I could rest and just go out for Isaiah’s birthday dinner.

We found out last night that today is a holiday so many restaurants and stores are closed, but DONT WORRY IM HERE TO SAVE THE DAY!

Hi folks Isaiah here, so we had a slower day to start but after we started feeling better we hopped on a bus and into Rome we went. That was about 4:00PM (2.5 hours before our dinner reservation I blindly made at 11:00PM the night before.) We walked around near the Trevi fountain for awhile. Picked out some gifts for me at a random store and headed back towards the restaurant area. There was a nice park close by so we sat out there and got to see the first wildlife of Italy we have seen. (Besides pigeons) We thought they were parrots and instantly started talking about how we could easily become pirates and sail the Mediterranean Sea. Our dreams of high sea sailing instantly died after one google search. Apparently parakeets are a thing. Instantly losing interest we walked down the steps and into the restaurant.

Rinaldi Al Quirinale was the spot. I’ve never had such amazing waitstaff and dining service before. As we sat down and decided what to order I was strong armed into getting a glass of wine. (By that I mean I was asked if I wanted wine.) I have no idea why but in restaurant settings I always panic and order more than I need. I ended up getting a seafood sample platter as an appetizer, ravioli stuffed with snapper topped with a scampi sauce. For the main course I got a tomahawk steak to share with Susie and dessert was panna cotta with mixed berries. Susie got Cristino with black truffle, ravioli with spinach and ricotta and dessert was lemon sorbet. In between these meals they casually dropped off a wheel of parmigiana and huge bricks of chocolate.

I’ve never ate at a fancy restaurant before and even with my barbarity and lack of etiquette they treated us great. After everything we waddled back to our airbnb and looked up reviews for the place. Apparently the prime minister frequents the restaurant often.

10/10 Would go into debt again to eat here

Susie here 👋🏼 I want to add that yes, all the food above was all from that one restaurant. It was the best food experience ever! I hope to make it a tradition to come to this restaurant every time we return to Italy. I hope that’s often! 🤞🏼

-Susie & Isaiah

[jennaliz]

WHEN LONGING TRANSCENDS

It’s Sunday.

The pews are filled and bustling with people, all ready to praise the word of God.

Except for one.

As the town’s residents pile one-by-one into the church, a woman sneaks around back to the graveyard. Wearing an all-black, floor-length hooded cape, her face remains unseen by anyone who manages to catch a glimpse at her.

She solemnly makes her way across the field to a lone mausoleum. She stops in front of its doors, and looking above them, she reads its inscription: vocavique deus mihi domum ad caelum. “God called me home to Heaven,” she translates under her breath, “if only that were true.”

Lifting her hands to the heavily rusted padlock on the mausoleum’s double doors, she takes it in her grasp and pulls. The padlock breaks clean off as the doors groan in response to her force. Dropping the lock without a second thought, she slowly pushes the doors open just enough for her to slip through before shutting them behind her.

Her eyes take a moment adjusting to the lack of light. Melted candles haphazardly line the stairway into the cold, barren tunnels deep underground. Her eyes glow a bright golden hue as the corridor materializes before her. Taking a deep breath, she steels her face. Rolling back her shoulders, her spine straightens holding her head high. She walks down into the crypt; her feet following a path they could never forget.

Without a pause in her steps, she ignores the way her eyes glance at every man, women, and child that live within the walls. The statue memorials stare mind-numbingly into her figure as she passes by. Their eyes following her movements, assuring that she does not stop. Shadows call and beckon in the corner of her eyes begging for attention that she cannot spare to give, for she is not here for them. She tightens her cloak as a chill makes its way down her spine. The air grows tense and frigid. If it were possible, she’s positive the feeling would be akin to suffocating. She follows the tunnels into a dead end where she finally finds what she can never lose.

Standing in front of a web-covered, dusty Irish Cross. She reaches into a hidden pocket within her cloak pulling out a singular, crudely cut white rose. The gravestone reads: Reverend Monsignor Laurence Donadieu.

Placing the rose in front of the cross, she whispers to him, “I’m sorry I haven’t visited sooner, but to be honest, I’m not even sure whether you would even want me here.” She drifts her hand atop the headstone as dust gathers on her fingertips.  “I cannot believe how little these new clergy members care for the ones down here,” she sighs reminiscing, “We used to race on who could clean and pay respects the fastest.”

“Now,” she clenches her fist, glancing back to the way she came. “Now, they lock you all up in here to be forgotten. I did not use to spare so many feelings towards the bones that lie within this old crypt, but—” her eyes avert towards the ground, “ever since you were placed amongst them, I find myself unable to think of anything but.”

“If only life had been different, I could have been buried alongside you.” Blinking away unshed tears, her gaze focuses onto the dates below his name: Sept. 17, 1124; Aged 54. “It’s been almost eight centuries since we last met face-to-face, and despite it all, I still dream of your smile every night when sleep overtake me. I miss what we could have been.” Leaving him with those parting words, she makes her way out of the catacombs imagining a headstone that could exist across from his that would say: Iseult Fleming; May 19, 1124; Aged 712.

[swxppedshitposts]

Muse Bravery Checklist: Alexsander Lovecraft Repost and fill out the form all about what your muse would/wouldn’t be brave enough to do. Then tag any friends you’d like to see do it as well! Note that some of these aren’t smart things to do but in this case, bravery and risk are both included.

Tagged By: @hunting-songs Tagging: All you bitches <3

My muse would … [x] Spend the night in a haunted building (He lives in one lmao) [x] Go into a burning/collapsing building to save someone (If it's a woman or child, then yeah, probably) [x] Take a shortcut through a dark alleyway [x] Stay calm with a weapon pointed at them [x] Be confident defending themselves from an attack [x] Touch a dangerous exotic animal (Soup the maybe alligator isn't just an exception <3 He IS the dangerous exotic animal in most cases tbf) [x] Take someone else’s punishment to protect them (Only if he cares lmao) [x] Travel to an unknown place by themselves [x] Spend a night in the woods alone [ ] Witness (or join) a séance (I don't think he has enough reason to do that? I'm not saying he wouldn't if he had the right motive though) [x] Play a scary video game in the dark alone (He does this for fun) [ ] Explore a pitch black catacomb with only one light (He would definitely think of this as just a very stupid move to make for no good reason lmao he wouldn't do this for just anybody) [x] Contact the spirit of someone they once knew [x] Spend the night in a cemetery [x] Sit in a room with one hundred creepy dolls (Literally just his house) [x] Hang their feet over the edge of a tall building [ ] Swim in dark, murky waters without being able to touch the bottom (Again, that's just stupid to do without a valid reason) [x] Be covered in spiders, snakes, or other insects [x] Go looking for the source of a mysterious sound late at night (Also arguably stupid thing to do but he's more likely to do this than the other things because he can usually defend himself pretty well) [ ] Spend an hour sealed up in a coffin (Trauma </3 NOPE) [ ] Go sailing miles from shore without any communication (Another arguably dumb thing to do without a necessary purpose) [/] Use a Ouija board (^^, but could be convinced) [ ] Go diving in a dark, underwater cave (What for?) [ ] Climb through a long tunnel just big enough to fit through (He's been known to be creatively suicidal but not this creatively suicidal LMAO suffocating to death over a long period of time doesn't sound like a great way to go out) [x] Explore a spot where cult rituals were performed [x] Go walking late at night, alone (Common activity for him) [x] Spend the night in a home where someone was murdered (Again, he lives there <3) [ ] Go surfing on the Dark Web (Too paranoid!!!) [x] Play an urban legend game (bloody mary, the midnight man, etc…) (Most of them are bollocks but I like the idea of him being able to summon certain people he once knew in this way if he wants to) [x] Stay home alone with a suspected killer on the loose (What else is he going to do about it? Call Caroline???) [x] Climb a dangerous mountain where many others have died on their way to the top (Mountains are his preferred place to chill) [x] Explore ancient ruins where strange things have happened [x] Touch a supposedly cursed object (His curse probably cancels out most other curses tbh) [x] Check out a creepy cellar or attic [/] Cross an unstable bridge over a huge drop (I mean, he could just use his wings, so? Maybe? If he was with people he could do that around?) [ ] Pick up a hitchhiker in the middle of the night

[alperson18]

Absolutely obsessed with the "exhausted shop owner" take on Saltbaker

[arty-shadow-morningstar]

Graveyard Siblings (3)

Some for revenge and some sibling bonding.

[Masterlist]

(Part 1)(Part 2)

-------

Adrien was next to be visited. Plagg woke him up from his sleep.

-------

“Kit, wake up. I want camembert.”

“Plagg, silence. You are not getting any cheese if you do that.”

“Sorry, Adrien but you are not my ‘master’ anymore.”

“Plagg? Why are you here? Where’s the ring?”

“The ring is as far away as possible and kept safely away. I am here because someone wants to talk to you.”

“Who?”

A cloaked, hooded figure stepped out of the shadows to his room.

“Kitty. My Chaton. Did you miss me?” A sweet, familiar but yet so terrifying voice came from the figure.

She pulled down the hood to reveal Ladybug with a wicked-looking black mask with white lenses.

“What am I talking about? You do miss me. Your Bugaboo. Too bad I don’t feel the same, Adrien.”

Lightning flashed and it started to rain. The mask was gone, revealing his dead classmate, Marinette with chilling red eyes. The pigtails grew longer and curved upwards, giving the illusion of her having horns. Twin blades flashed and she leaped towards him. (Damian gave them to her with some lessons in exchange for spending time with, babysitting, the kwamis.)

Adrien scrambled away from the bed in the nick of time. A sword impaling the spot where he just was.

“Plagg, help. Where is the ring? I need to transform.”

“Sorry, kitten. I am not telling you. Even if you did have the ring, it’s not going to be much help.”

“Kitty, stay still. Then, we can be together. Just like you wanted.”

Adrien continued to dodge.

“What do you mean?” He all but screamed at Plagg.

“Pigtails, here, is a vengeful spirit. She’s not going to stop until she is satisfied. How about asking her what she wants?”

“Ladybug, what do you want?”

“What I wanted was a partner I could rely on, someone I can trust with my life, someone who wouldn’t stab me in the back for his own selfish gain. I wanted a friend who would have my back and not tell me to keep quiet at the price of my mental health and my relationships with people I care about. WAS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK?!”

She managed to get a cut on his left cheek.

Soon, he was on the ground, bleeding out on the round.

“Tell Hawkmoth that he better watch out. Because-” lightning struck and Plagg and Ladybug had disappeared, “his downfall is coming.” Her voice echoed through his room.

Adrien laid bleeding until Natalie opened the door after hearing a crash from the room and came to check on him. As she called an ambulance for Adrien, she wondered if it wasn’t too late to ask for redemption and be spared from Ladybug’s wrath for her part in her murder.

Adrien had the word ‘TRAITOR’ carved into his back. Forever reminding him of his crimes.

--------

He wasn’t in school for a week after the incident. They all were told that Adrien had an accident while fencing.

Gabriel was a little panicking now.

He hired an exorcist, (John Constantine got a hefty amount and did a few flashy magic tricks to appease Gabriel but he didn’t lift the curse Maria put on the place. She is not someone to be on the bad side of and he thinks that he can’t lift it even if he wanted to.)

Emilie gets a little sus at Gabriel when he brought this strange man with a British accent into their home after their son got attacked in his own room with security tighter than Fort Knox.

She doesn’t buy that ‘accident’ bullshit that her husband, son and even Natalie tries to sell her. She thinks it is connected to what happened while she was in a coma.

-----

Adrien has a curse too.

(Credit to @raeuberprinzessin for giving me an idea)

He couldn’t act like the ‘Perfect Adrien’ in public anymore. Acting more like Chat Noir at first then, later a spoiled brat. His friends thought that he was finally rebelling against his father and encouraged it a lot.

Adrien started criticizing other people, strangers at first then to the people working on the photoshoots to his fans to his other school mates, people in his class and his friends. (The curse planted ideas into his head about what he should say and he said them all without thinking about the effect it has on other people)

People started avoiding him not liking his attitude and his comments about how they should behave and change something about them because he doesn’t like it that way and guilt-tripping them when he doesn’t get his way. Even Nino started to distance himself after he saw how Adrien talked to a fan.

The public thought it was a phase but as he got progressively worse, people started despising him. Adrien doesn’t realize this of course so far, happy that his father let him get away with ‘ruining the Agreste image.’ (Gabriel was worried about a potential vengeful ghost and making sure his wife didn't know about his stint as a supervillain. There was also the fact that the Afterlife made more sales than him again and managed to get on the cover of Vogue when he should have, dammit.) He was finally able to say what he wanted to without repercussions. Until he realized when Nino and everyone else cancelled for a hangout for the third time that week that he was slowly losing his friends.

He panics and tries to fix the situation. He didn’t want to be alone again.

He talks to Nino about it and to his horror, he couldn’t stop himself from saying many things that were a little hurtful. (Second part. The moment he realizes he is going to be alone. He is going to find out that yes, lies can hurt people. He is going to see it happen firsthand.)

Nino moved seats and told Adrien that their friendship was on hold until he apologized.

Soon, nearly every time his mouth opened, lies and insults about his friends or their embarrassing secrets came spilling out. Everyone hated him now and Mme. Bustier tried to give him a reprimand about his behaviour, which when he tried to defend himself, he found himself unable to speak.

He managed to explain to his father what caused his unpopularity by writing what happened to him. Unfortunately due to his poor behaviour before the second part of the curse was activated, his fan base was dwindling and people didn’t like him anymore so there was a hit on the Gabriel brand.

He no longer has to do modeling, clearing his schedule. But no one would spend time with him.

The best solution he could do with his predicament was to keep quiet and endure the loneliness and the glares of his classmates at school. Adrien was relegated to the back and nearly everyone avoided him. He was now a social pariah.

Even Lila avoided him because of her own curse which made Adrien turn into one of her previous victims. (She also didn’t ponder why Marinette rarely appears compared to the others.)

If Adrien felt a tiny bit remorseful or guilty for making Marinette keep quiet or betraying Ladybug, he can gain a little control over what he says.

The curse can be broken if he apologizes to Maria herself or to her grave.

------

The first few months, while Marinette adapted to living with the Waynes, Jason stayed over at Wayne Manor because having Maria living with him at his apartment wasn’t a good idea and he had no clue how to take care of a teenage girl.

On paper she is adopted by Bruce because Jason can’t. (Some CPS reasons.)

Making Jason a little more salty towards Bruce. “I found her first. I called dibs.”

Brought Maria to meet the other Outlaws and they adopted her too. “Hey, guys. She’s my sister first.”

Jason was the one to teach her how to shoot a gun because he was ‘the most capable’ of teaching her.

The first few months were a little tense with Marinette not fully trusting them and the same with the rest of the Batfam.

Jason warmed her up a bit to him by telling a little of why he took her here.

He was also the one to book them flight to Paris with Bruce’s credit card so she can tell her friends that she wasn’t dead in person.

They bonded more after stopping some nefarious plot in Paris while they were there. Let’s say Gentleman Ghost and something involving the catacombs in Paris. (I watched some Batman: Brave and the Bold for childhood nostalgia.)

Kwamis were animal-shaped and they were interesting creatures to be around. And very very curious.

There was a stressful day for Maria when all the Kwamis decided to play hide and seek. Damian somehow got roped into helping her as the only available person in the Manor and he will deny that he enjoyed it.

Damian is the little brother she always wanted and she is more tolerable compared to his brothers. There is also the fact that she trusts him with the kwamis and deep down, he feels super-honoured. (I just love older sister!Mari)

Tim and her being insomniac/coffee buddies. There has been many many interventions to stop this.

I get that Marinette is this selfless person and loves making people happy but she has siblings now and them eating the stuff she made for herself to enjoy, should get on her nerves after a while.

She makes a box with booby-traps in which she puts in her cookies and food.

There are many different layers of traps because this is the Batfam and each of them is non-lethal and more ridiculous.

Okay, I once read a fic about Marinette making a bear-trap style box to hide the Miracle Box so this box is also like that but kept for food. (Traps and Sneaks by quicksilversquared)

Someone (I vote a hungry Dick or Jason, maybe a suspicious Bruce) made a mistake of putting their hand into the box and the first trap activated.

Screams filled the house.

Everyone came down including Marinette.

Bruce asked, “Who did this?”

“It was me.”

“Why?”

“They kept eating the cookies.”

“There are other ways to stop them from doing that you know like a ‘Do Not Touch’ sign not a death trap box.”

“They are non-lethal.”

Bruce locked it away but Tim later stole it to tweak it and store his coffee. ------ (Part 4)

[raewritez]

all that mattered

based on this request: Hello! I love your writing! Can i request a zuko x firebender reader where the reader was a close friend of zuko’s and went with him when he had to go hunt the avatar and she goes w the gaang in the catacombs and is hurt by zuko’s decision but they reconcile slowly @ the western air temple? Thanks!!

word count: 2.8k

You were happy, a cautious glint of hope pulling at your heartstrings as you smiled at Zuko from across the teashop. After all you had been through together; from playing pirates with the young boy who wore his heart on his sleeve to sneaking onto the navy ship to follow your best friend on his seemingly unachievable quest for the Avatar, you had finally grasped the scraps of unabashed content in the upper ring of Ba Sing Se. 

You were so proud of Zuko. He had come so far from the erratic, rage-filled boy you had stuck with the past three years, now growing into the person you always knew he was. The glimmers of your youth seemed so far now, yet closer than they had been in years. The Zuko you knew then; the soft, earnest child who loved his friend unashamedly in the merriments of your pretendings was slowly peeking out of the harsh exterior he had built up in his desolation. 

He found himself aching, yearning for your presence and the unwavering comfort you had always provided him. He could barely remember a world without you, without the familiarity of your laughter and the warmth of your caring touches. He knew he loved you, he supposed he always had. He knew it in the way his heart would speed up at the sight of your grin, how a lovely blush would make its way to his face at the soothing lilt of your voice. He knew he loved you, the same way he had when his hands were small and his face unscarred, when the only problems were the insufficient days that weren’t long enough to hold all your adventures. 

Now, you were smiling at him from across the room of Iroh’s tea shop. Like always, he felt his face heat up and the corners of his lips threatening to lift at the mere sight of your joyful expression. He smiled back, forgetting for a moment the weight upon his shoulders. Again, the Avatar had been preoccupying his mind, the temptation and longing to be back home and to feel the affection of his father overpowering his logic. But now, with his amber eyes locked with yours and his uncle’s jolly laughter ringing over the dulled chatter of the customers, he thought maybe a life like this wouldn’t be too bad.

///

“Zuko!” you cried, launching yourself into his arms.

Iroh trailed behind you, the Avatar in tow. The catacombs shone with an emerald glow, a slight chill in the humid air. You turned your head to see Aang hugging Katara, while you step aside to allow Iroh to embrace his nephew.

“Uncle, Y/n, I don't understand,” Zuko speaks, his brows furrowed. “What are you doing with the Avatar?”

“Saving you, that's what,” Aang replies. Zuko growls and steps forward confrontationally, your arms reaching out to restrain him.

“Zuko, it's time we talked,” Iroh says calmly. 

He tells Aang and Katara to leave, Zuko’s eyes trailing after them. 

“Why, Uncle?” Zuko questions in a hurt tone.

Iroh simply smiles. “You're not the man you used to be, Zuko. You are stronger and wiser and freer than you have ever been. And now you have come to the crossroads of your destiny. It's time for you to choose. It's time for you to choose good.”

You yelp as you feel your body being encased in a prison of crystal alongside Iroh, your eyes snapping up to meet Azula’s golden ones with a glare that could send a man ten feet under. Zuko frantically reaches out to you, only to be halted by Azula’s drawling voice.

“I expected this kind of treachery from Uncle. But Zuko, Prince Zuko, you're a lot of things, but you're not a traitor, are you?” “Release them immediately,” Zuko growls.

“It's not too late for you, Zuko. You can still redeem yourself.” “Zuko, no!” You shout, desperation in your eyes. “You can’t listen to her! She’s lying, like she always does!” Azula chuckles sinisterly. “Am I, Y/n? Or are you just trying to hold him back? He knows his destiny, it seems to me like you’re only preventing him from achieving it.”

“Zuko, that’s not true!” you call out to him, your voice cracking. “I know you, I know that what you want isn’t-”

“Why don't you let him decide, Y/n?” her voice cuts through like a knife. “Zuko, I need you. At the end of this day, you will have your honor back. You will have father’s love. You’ll have everything you’ve ever wanted.” Iroh’s pleads are drowned out by the noise inside your head, the panic setting in and clouding your senses. Please, Zuko. Don’t do this.

Tears roll down your cheeks as Zuko turns his back, following his sister out of the cavern. A choked cry leaves your mouth, desperation for the lost feeling of happiness leaving you feeling empty. 

Iroh tenderly calls out your name, the deep sadness in his expression interrupted only by a glint of determination.

/// You gaze up in horror as the figure of the Avatar falls to the ground, Azula’s outstretched fingers crackling with electricity.

Katara rushes forward, her water crashing over the Dai Li agents and Firenation siblings and pulling them under the waves. She embraces Aang in her arms, a look of hopelessness and despair shining in her tear-filled eyes.

You stare in disbelief at the face of the prince, your heart splintering. Iroh suddenly jumps in front of your frame defensively, his voice booming in the hollowness of the catacomb. 

“You've got to get out of here! I'll hold them off as long as I can!” Fire thrusts forth from his fists, momentarily halting the soldiers. Katara makes her way over to you, her hand outstretched. You look at her with confusion, having been prepared to suffer your fate at the hands of your nation.

“Come on!” She exclaims, grasping your hand and lifting the three of you out of the wretched caves. The last thing you see are his eyes, piercing your soul with the bitterness of betrayal and abandonment. 

///

“Hello, Zuko here.”

You can only stare, shocked into a state of paralyzation by the utter surprise of seeing his figure on the mountainside. He looks different, his hair is longer and his face bears a hesitant smile. 

As the shock fades, it is replaced with a burning anger, the one that has been brewing and festering in the depths of your soul ever since he walked out of that cave with his sister. Your eyes narrow into slits, a hardened glare contorting your features. His eyes flicker to yours as your friends unload their bearings onto him, only to shrink away at the fire in your expression. 

He longs to rush forward, to fall at your feet and beg for forgiveness. The guilt that has been plaguing his mind for weeks bubbling to the surface; the sight of you almost bringing him to the ground. He yearns to be in your arms again, to bask in your wondrous existence and fearless love.

But he knows he doesn’t deserve it. He had hurt you, abandoned you. You, who had stood steadfast beside him through all his troubles and misfortunes, you, who had shown such faith in him that he began to wonder how he deserved it. And for what? For honor? For the approval of his father? He didn’t know, but he knew that walking away from you and his uncle in those catacombs was the single biggest regret of his life. 

He’s sent away, and you don’t argue. Not that he would expect you to. That night, as he curls in on himself by the blaze of the campfire, silent tears stream down his face as he aches for you, as he loves you from afar in the high hours of the night. He at least finds comfort in the fact that you sleep under the same sky.

///

a week later...

It was almost unbearable, having him so near. You saw him everyday as he trained with Aang and conversed with the rest, his gaze always finding yours the second you walked into his vicinity. You kept your distance, the wound of his desertion still raw and painful, building new walls around your heart which had always remained unsheltered. Your body betrayed your logic, your fingers itching to run through his hair, your breath escaping your lungs whenever you heard the rasp of his voice.

You knew he had changed, really changed this time, that much was obvious. The way he and Aang talked like old friends, how he was slowly worming his way into the group’s good graces and affections.

He hadn’t pushed you, hadn’t demanded you speak to him or expressed anger at your coldness. Instead, he waited, reluctantly settling for small acts of atonement and care. He would always ensure you received the first bowl of rice at dinnertime, secretly complete your chores for you. He treated you like an idol, an alter, his actions small compensation for all his wrongdoings and mistakes.

That didn’t mean it was easy for him, though. Zuko starved for your closeness, the feeling of having you so close yet so far eating away at his heart. He feared that he would never again experience the love you so unsparingly served to him, never again bathe in the solace of your friendship.

He found you sitting beneath the moon, Yue’s light cascading through your hair and illuminating your features with an ethereal glow. His breath was ripped away at your unapologetic beauty, a familiar longing consuming his senses.

“Y/n,” he whispered. 

You whipped around, your eyes locking with his. Under his intense stare you were paralyzed, unable to run away like you wanted.

You sighed. “What do you want, Zuko?”

There was a bitterness to your words, but all Zuko could focus on was the way his name sounded from your lips. He hadn’t heard the sound in so long, the melody squeezing his heart with adoration. He knew it was undeserved, though.

When he didn’t respond you scoffed and rolled your eyes, standing up to walk back to the temple only to be gently yanked back by a hold on your wrist.

“No, wait, I...” his eyes were wide, a distressed look upon his face. He glanced down at your interlocked hands, reluctantly letting go so as not to overstep. “I...”

You stared at him, brows furrowed. What? What could you possibly have to say to me?

“I...I’m sorry.”

He sighed, brushing his hair out of his face. “I know that doesn’t mean anything, and it doesn’t make anything better, but....I just need you to know how sorry I am.”

When you didn’t interrupt, he pressed on.

“Not a single day went by where I didn’t think of you. When I was in the Fire Nation, I had everything I’d ever wanted. I thought everything would fall into place...but it didn’t. Every night when I went to sleep I would see your face, how  you looked at me back in Ba Sing Se. Like I was a monster.”

Your features softened at that, that part inside you that you had locked away yearning to reach out to him, to comfort him like you always had. 

“What I did was so wrong,” he continued. “And I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for it. But I can’t live with knowing that you hate me, that we can never be friends again because I was so stupid. And, I mean, you’re not just my friend, you’re way more than that! We’ve been through everything together, and back in Ba Sing Se everything was perfect and I ruined it, and now you hate me and now I probably can’t ever-”

He was rambling now, his eyes ablaze with the struggle to salvage the scraps of your relationship. You couldn’t stand watching him in such distress, all of the emotions you had built a wall around slowly cracking through.

“I don’t hate you, Zuko.”

The words were out before you could stop them.

His rant ceased abruptly, his eyes latching onto yours, a question lingering behind his golden irises.

“I never really hated you,” you spoke, shuffling uncomfortably in your place. “I just...”

His wild eyes calmed, replaced with an imploring gaze, urging you to continue. 

“I thought I did. Every time I thought of you I felt so angry, and I thought I hated you but I don’t. I never could.” His lips parted, staring at you with such wonderment you were reminded of the way people beheld paintings. Or how Iroh looked at tea.

“Why?” he questioned. “Why can’t you?”

“I don’t know.” 

You knew.

///

Days passed, and the crumbs of your bond with Zuko were slowly falling back into place. You still bore a scar from the memories, but seeing him acting as the person you had always wanted him to be filled your heart with more pride than you’d like to admit. 

He moved around freely, interacting with the misfits that had become your family and smiled carelessly in the gleams of his content. Seeing the way his eyes lit up, the way his lips tugged up at the corners made your heartbeat irregular. His hair wasn’t bad either, and his insistence to remain shirtless while training Aang certainly wasn’t helping your attempts to remain impassive.

You found him sitting at the edge of the cliff, his legs dangling over the vast expanse of sky. His ebony locks danced around his face, a pensive expression resting on his brows.

He snapped around at the sound of your footsteps, an unguarded grin making its way to his face upon seeing you.

“Hi,” you greeted, your feet carrying you to sit beside him.

“Hey,” he breathed, eyeing your profile as your arm brushed against his, the sensation sending shivers up his spine.

You tilted your head towards the stars, the coolness of the night caressing your cheeks. You remained silent for a few minutes before speaking.

“I missed you, you know.”

Zuko turned to you, finding your eyes closed against the navy curtain of the sky.

“Even when I was mad. I guess spending ten years of your life with someone makes you a little attached, huh?”

His eyes traced your profile, dipping down the curve of your nose and lips and rising back to the delicateness of your eyelashes. Attached, he chuckled. He was long past attached.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Your head swirled to face him, your eyes reflecting the adoration and love they always had, the same look Zuko had passed to you so often in the shadows of your obliviousness. Your fingers rose to tenderly trace the outline of his scar, your familiar touch elicting all of the emotions Zuko had been deprived of in your time apart.

He nuzzled further into your embrace, feeling much like the boy he had been all those years ago. Just you and him, when nothing else mattered. When he was a child, and you were a child, and he loved his friend in the pureness of childhood.

And he loved you now.

Deciding he couldn’t wait any longer, after years of longing built up on a lifetime of friendship, he pushed himself forward until his lips met yours.

Your breath escaped you in a gasp, your palm finding its way to its proper place against his cheek. Your lips pressed against his with fervor, all of the emotions that you had ever felt for this boy disclosed in the desperation in which your hands grasped his shirt in a hopeless attempt to bring yourself even closer.

His arms wound around your waist, his thumbs stroking your sides as he kissed you with all the love and affection he possessed. His raven hair tickled your face as your lips locked over and over again, until the only thing you two were more desperate for than each other was air. 

You breathed heavily, slowly regaining your senses. Your eyes met his with the same hesitant look that was held in his. For a moment you simply stared at each other, gazing, before grins broke out across both your faces. 

Your laugh cut through the night, his own chuckles escaping him. He gazed at you fondly, leaning in to capture your mouth in a short and sweet kiss. You smiled unabashedly, pressing your forehead against his. This was long overdue. You basked in each other’s presence, soft caresses and brief pecks shared under the light of the moon. As you loved one another beneath the stars the world faded away and nothing else mattered.

It was just you and him.

[harveywritings92]

DMC BOYS: They find out you're an assassin [Assassin's creed crossover.]

Dante: It was supposed to be a simple bodyguard job, a bunch of old dudes were having some super villain-ish meeting and one of them hired Dante to guard him, the devil was a little vague on the details all he remembered was the guy saying he'll pay upfront! And like that Dante blocked whatever else was said... 

to sum it up someone wants the old guy dead and Dante just there to make sure he doesn't croak, simple enough he can do that... what he couldn't do was kill the assassin who just killed his client...

She was his girlfriend.

Dante's mind replayed the scene over again: one second the old fat geezer is drinking whiskey and being chatted up by a call-girl, Dante gets distracted by one of the strippers, next thing he knows there's a shriek! the half-devil whipped his head in the direction of the commotion and saw his client looking at another old man in a dark suit in shock, his hand was clamp securely around his neck all in a vain attempt to stop the blood from seeping from his slashed throat he fell forwards and his assailant was revealed standing behind him.

They were a woman in a fav/c hooded jacket with some sort of retractable blade attached to her wrist, he could see tiny smirk grace the woman's lips as she stared across the club room at same old man who Dante assumed was the big boss behind this meeting, and another target on this won's list...

Dante grimaced and took a step forwards only to freeze when the familiar scent of his girlfriend's perfume caught his nose through the blood and booze, then he saw those eyes the half-devil knew them well the second they looked through the crowd at him, he was soon snapped out of his shock by the big boss boss bellowing "Get her! tear that dog apart!?" soon the y/ht woman was surrounded by armed men; Y/n took them down like they were nothing and seemed to be having fun with it before making a quick get away, he last saw her run out through one the exits.

He chased her just in time to see her jump off the roof and land in the back of a dump truck filled with leaves waiting in the street before the truck drove off into the night, needless to say Y/n was in for a major what the hell fest when she got home.

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

Nero: Anger was the first thing that crossed his mind, then betrayal he thought he knew you and that you could trust him with anything, but him finding out you were a killer? that's been fighting a goddam centuries old war, he didn't know what to think! how he found out in the first place was that you had gotten hurt and he was contacted against your wishes.

He demanded to know what happened? you had lied claiming you fell down some stair. "Stairs don't stab peopl-" Nero too a breath "Y/n you better tell me what's going on, or I'm walking out that door and I'm not coming back." you looked at him stunned hoping this was an empty threat but he was dead serious.

You kept your mouth shut but the second he took a step towards the door you sighed "Wait." Nero turned to look at you gestured for him sit down, and like that it was like dam had opened Nero sat and he listened, you told him of the creed, the artifacts of Eden, Abstergo and your involvement the more upset he looked, he silently left you alone claiming he couldn't be here. he had to think, after few hours he came back and paused when he heard a male voice talking to you...

Nero swallowed his inner demon growled hearing an unknown male in your room. "I don't think it's a good idea to be using the animus in your condition." You snapped at the guy the shut up you're gonna be stuck here for a week might as well do something other than mope about destroying the best relationship you've ever had in a while.  "okay, your good go."

Nero silently walked in without either of you noticing him and saw you hooked up to some oculus looking thing and this surfer looking guy looking over a screen, suddenly he jumped back at the sound of a pot shattering. "What the hell?!" you exclaimed as the guy chuckled. " I think ..uh-oh think Amir's wife Esha just found out he's an assassin she not taking it to well" he laughed nervously keeping a hand on his chest as Nero came up behind him to watch the scene, You grumbled something under your breath as a woman angrily shouting in Hindi filled the hospital room as more pottery in thrown.

 "Esha, please calm down, mera Pyaar!*my love*" a man pleaded as the woman snarled. 

"Don't you Mera Pyaar me! Five years we've been married and you kept this from me, How dare you?!"

"Look I didn't want to keep you - [dodges a vase.] please stop throwing things at me!"

"I should've listened to my brother when he said there was off about you! kameene!*Bastard*" *About to throw another vase*

Amir catches her arms  pushes her toward a wall "I was just trying to protect you dammit!" he snapped Esha tried to say she didn't need to be protected because her father but Amir cuts her off. "Can do nothing, these men and their order have been on earth as long as my creed has, they have more power then your family combined and they to destroy free will as we know it..." the door behind them sudden broke down to reveal a British man and few heavily armed guards.

Esha who was still enraged shoved Amir aside, demanding they leave their house did they know who her father was? he'll hear about this- she was cut off by the men laughing at her before dropping the bomb. "On her who do you think told us where to find your husband?" the Indian woman's fell in shock and started shaking her head in disbelief next thing that happened, a cloth was tied around her mouth as the smoke quickly filled the room the sounds of fighting started Amir quickly started dragging his shell shock wife out of their home … 

The sequence ended as you sighed waiting for the next one to load "that is exactly why I didn't want to tell Nero, one slip up, one loose end and the Templars could find him, Kyrie or the kids and use them to hurt me." The y/ht huffed wincing as she tried to pull herself up, and failed nearly falling off the bed luckily a pair a arms caught her and sat her up right.

"urg... Thanks Wally." Y/n's heart sank into her feet when she heard Wally voice on the other side of her room. "uh.. That not me N/n." the ginger man said sheepishly while adjusting his glasses as the familiar scent of Nero's cologne caught her nose, Y/n cautiously lifted up the Animus visor off her eyes to find Nero staring at her.

the y/nat woman's stomach tightened and her face felt hot as a tense silence filled the air, before Nero spoke up pretty saying that her reasons for hiding this life from him were the exact same reasons he keeps her away from Devil hunting to protect her. 

He sighed knowing there was no way talking her out of the creed like he had planned, but Nero urged her not to get killed and not to hide things from him anymore... Y/n promised then Nero sheepishly asked if she'd put the Animus back on? because he kind of wants to see what will happen to Amir and Esha.

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

Vergil: Like Dante he was hired by a shady old man to protect him, what he didn't expect was to be thrown into a special security called alpha squad filled with a bunch of arrogant humans who pointed a laughed at the white haired weirdo and using a sword in this day and age! Vergil ignored them seeing as this was just a temporary gig, and he'll never see them again. 

Of course nothing would prepare him for what happened next, alarms were blaring and the were bodies littering the hallways, Vergil examined as he went along noting that they alpha squad members and they'd been stabbed or had their throats slashed... 

It was Ironic that they died this way the more he thought about it, he snapped out of his thoughts when he heard his employer yelling at someone to back off.

 Vergil looked around the corner to see his employer and a hooded man with a strange blade on his wrist the two were engaged within a conversation while Vergil silently approached.

"I had dream about you Mr. Vesta."

"aww...how sweet, too bad you're not my type!"

"In my dream you never made it out the Paris Catacombs alive..."

"What can I say? I too stubborn to die!"

Vergil was just about to strike when the three were interrupted by an explosion, "Why Hello, Partner!" Vesta happily greeted the woman cautiously walked into the courtyard, Vergil felt a chill go down his spine as a familiar shouted at the man. "Jason, we have to go!" Vesta shook his head keeping eyes on the old man. "We can't let them find the box." 

The woman took a an aggressive stance not liking that answer "Screw that, I killed half of Alpha squad and destroyed the map, let's get out while we can!" footsteps were heard rushing down the alley, her partner growled in frustration finally complied with her. "See ya in your dreams old man.." Vesta jeered then threw a smoke bomb he and his partner ran from the scene being chased by Vergil.

Who caught up to them fairly quickly he knocked out the man and got a hold of the woman pulling her hood off confirming his suspicions. "Y/n what's meaning of this?" he hissed coming face to face with his gobsmacked girlfriend. "Only to be interrupted by remnants of Alpha squad, who ordered him to hold her down! Without a word Vergil used summoned swords on the men causing them to scatter.

before using the Yamato to open a portal; he threw Vesta over his shoulder and he and Y/n rushed through it landing in Nero's garage, the portal closed as Vergil dropped the passed out man none too gently onto the floor then turned his girlfriend who had a lot of explaining to do.  

[ansxit]

Vive La Revolution

"ɪɴᴅᴇᴘᴇɴᴅᴇɴᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ. ɪf ᴡᴇ ɢᴇᴛ ɴᴏ ʀᴇᴠᴏʟᴜᴛɪᴏɴ, ᴛʜᴇɴ ᴡᴇ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ. ᴡᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʀᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ᴅɪᴇ ᴛʜᴀɴ ɢɪᴠᴇ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴊᴏɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴋɪɴɢᴅᴏᴍ."

(Y/n) was always loyal to Essemp. For clarification, She is the cousin to the young ruler of their nation, Clay. He wasn't the fairest ruler, but he still cherished his land and his friends. (Y/n) would always stand by her cousin's side whenever skirmishes and war broke throughout the kingdom.

Until she happened to fall for the leader of a revolution.

—

03 - Spionage

When you awoke, you were startled to find yourself under the soft sheets of your bed. Bright beams of sunlight shown through the open windows and your curtains drifted lazily through the breeze. You slowly got up, noticing you were still dressed in your blue gown from the night before.

On your bedside table sat a letter, followed by a petal of your favorite flower. You smiled and picked up the parchment, immediately recognizing Wilbur's messy handwriting. The ink was splotched in a few places, probably from having to write in candlelight.

"Y/n," the note read.

"I believe you owe me twice now, seeing as I had to carry you down three flights of stairs, it was rather tiring and I expect to be showered with total admiration and half of your plate at breakfast later this morning.

With care, Wilbur"

You smiled at his request and opened up the drawer. Inside were many different letters, organized by person and importance. You nearly folded the note and placed it with the rest of the messages Wilbur has sent to you. You also grabbed the petal of (f/f), and placed it in an empty jar sitting off to the side. A light knock on the door caught your attention, and one of your handmaidens walked in.

"Princess Y/n," she greeted with a curtsy. "King Dream has requested that you make your way down for breakfast."

You've always thought the name to be ridiculous. The name "Dream" doesn't really strike fear into anyone's hearts. It was a stupid nickname given to him since childhood because Clay always had his head stuck in the clouds. He was imaginative, creating stories to tell to You, Nick, and George.

"Of course, thank you," You smiled at the handmaiden and she backed out of your room. You made your way to the wardrobe and grabbed a forest green blouse and chestnut brown trousers. Once you were finished getting dressed, you started making your way down to the dining hall.

The suite halls were unusually empty, they're usually bustling with activity. Disturbed by the quiet, you looked around to see where your handmaiden went. Luck wasn't on your side this morning however, because she was nowhere to be found.

With a shrug, you started to head down to the dining hall, your footsteps echoing as you went.

*

The red seats in the hall were filled with lords and high ranked soldiers, all of who were laughing and joyously eating their meals. Plates and platters of food covered every square inch of the mahogany table as the bright sunlight filtered through the glass windows.

Clay was nowhere to be found at the table, and neither were George or Nick. It wasn't often that Clay chose to skip meals, especially with the room so full, but it wasn't entirely out of the ordinary for him.

You recognized some soldiers from your battalion, the ones who didn't need any immediate care, sitting along the table. Some gorging themselves on food, others sharing laughs with their comrades, and some both. As you passed many of them started clapping and cheering, but it was just swept into the sea of other voices. All clamoring over each other, like an arrangement of which could be the loudest and prominent.

In the far back of the room to the left of your empty seat, you could spot Wilbur lounging around with a bored expression. He was dressed in a white collared shirt with the first three buttons unbuttoned, and had his left arm hooked around the chair. His right hand was fiddling with the silverware, as he just stared at the mahogany table.

A lord to his right, dressed in a black admiral jacket with yellow decor, made eye contact with you heartily nudged his shoulder. Wilbur barely looked over at him and gave the brunet a half smile before turning back to his plate. The lord, Ponk, you recognized, shoved Wilbur again and threw his head in your direction. The brunet snapped his gaze towards you and a goofy run spread across his face almost instantly.

You picked up the pace a bit as you neared the end of table. Usually you could hear the drag of wood against wood, the echoing sound followed by the kings voice allowing people to begin eating. But instead laughter filled the joyous hall and the wooden noise was lost. Wilbur had tried to hide his goofy grin by a smug one.

"Y/n," he chastised, "I'm disappointed, truly, it isn't much like you to wake up so late is it? Especially since today is such an important day." The stupidly cute grin on his face told you he was just teasing, and it couldn't help but make you smile back.

"Oh I'm terribly sorry your grace," You bowed your head in a mock-apology. "I was up all night because a devilishly attractive bard snuck into my quarters and, well we had a lovely chat together." The tips of Wilbur's ears flushed pink and he hmmed while looking back at his empty plate. "You mentioned today was important, pray tell what for?"

"Well, if you can recall, Clay wanted to throw a banquet in celebration of capturing the leader of the revolts," Wilbur lazily fiddled with one of the many spoons at the table. "He told me last night 'bout it and we have that to deal with by the next week."

"It's just a party though," You grabbed one of the many bread rolls out of a wicker basket. "How does that make today special?" Wilbur gave a forced grin at you while you stuffed a roll in your mouth.

"That part isn't what's special, Y/n," Wilbur's usual mischievousness had returned and he grabbed your hand from across the table. "The exciting part is we get to finally continue with the Spionage."

Your heart skipped several beats. The Spionage was a passion project you and Wilbur had been working on for as long as you two had been friends. It was an elite group of soldiers picked out from just about anywhere that would be another inner circle to protect the crown. Clay had been putting multiple pauses on the plans, obsessively picking out every flaw. The revolts didn't help either, and it had been nearly half a year since you were able to work on it.

But the last time you had the chance, Clay finally gave it his approval: All that was needed left was the people to vigorously train for it. Wilbur said he already had some soldiers in mind; he was more in on the people finding than you- You were the strategic designer and executioner, not a social keeper.

"I already have the potentials waiting in the training yard." Wilbur's nonstop smile was mirroring your own now. "They're just waiting for us."

You quickly stood up from the dining chair, not bothering to tidy the silverware. "Lets go then," You had to restrain yourself from shouting in joy. "C'mon, hurry, hurry, hurry!" Wilbur reflected the growing excitement and you both took off towards the training grounds.

The guards in the far back of the room opened the doors for you both as you passed, giving their respective, yet hesitant bows. It appears seeing the stoic Princess and her closest friend running through the castle was a foreign event.

The halls were quiet again once the doors had closed, the laughter and chatter amongst people had faded out. All you could hear was the birds chirping outside and the sound of footsteps against the marble floors. The dining hall was only a few halls away from the training grounds, hidden in the far back of the palace. It resembled a Colosseum in a way, where observers could watch the knights train and place bets on the best knight there.

When You were younger, you were known as one of the best fighters in the land. Having bested both Clay and the Prince of an old neighboring kingdom in hand-to-hand combat and sword fighting. When you were in your early teens and met Wilbur, he was one of the first people to be able to disarm you in a fight. Although technically he cheated his way through by distracting you, but he would argue he never did such a thing in the fight.

After the day was over, you instantly recruited him in your ranks and the rest was self explanatory. You worked with each other for years in end, building friendships and being in charge of Essemp's strongest military. Which is why Spionage was so important; Essemp had many soldiers willing to sacrifice themselves for the kingdom but in the palace, knights like Schlatt, assassins, double-crossers could sneak in and murder the royal family without notice. The castle- no,You needed people who were headstrong, willing to take what they wanted, and also a great leader and comrade. People who are able to work together and someone who you could trust with your life. You needed more people like,

"Wilbur?" Your voice rang though the empty halls. You two had slowed to a walk, your hands still linked together.

"Yeah?" Wilbur glanced at you from the side, his grip on your fingers tightening just slightly.

"The revolution, Schlatt, they gave up too easily. Don't you think?" You felt a cold chill down your spine when remembering how the very man you're talking about was a few thousand feet below you. The catacombs ran deep under the kingdom, built upon an old structure to another realm. "I mean, all this buildup to our meeting with them, and for it to be over so quick- it doesn't feel right."

"Y/n," Wilbur had stopped and placed a warm hand on your shoulder. "You don't need to worry about these things, we captured their leader and the majority of their troops. There's not much else they can do." His brown eyes that were usually full of mischief had hints of regret in them, like he was holding something back from you. "We can rest easy, especially once we finish Spionage, we'll never have to feel threatened again." He gave a reassuring smile but it still didn't quite reach his eyes.

"How can you be certain?" You held his gaze for a minute longer before dropping your head. He didn't respond, and interlocked your hands again. You knew you wouldn't get any sure answer from him, so you both continued through the halls to the soldiers grounds. "I suppose your right, but I think the only thing I have to worry about is your judge of character." You winked at him and started into a brisk pace. "Lets hurry up, I want to finish this before dinner."

-

The midday sun shone brightly over the field and the soldiers all stood proudly in front of you. With their heads raised high and shoulders lifted, they held the perfect prep stance. You stalked the rows slowly, making direct eye contact with everyone standing there. Wilbur watched from the pedestal in front of the troops, watching you judge each and every person.

Most of them averted their gaze, deciding to look past you or up at the sky. It was rare to find soldiers willing to bite back at their superiors, majority of them being bootlickers and following orders.

Two soldiers in particular caught your attention, one obscenely tall, close to Wilbur's height, and lanky enough to look like a gust of wind would knock him over. His bright blue eyes held your stare and he struggled to maintain the stoic faces of the soldiers around him. He'd fidget ever so often, either his grip tightening on the stone sword you'd passed out, or shifting on his feet. He might've looked out of place with the battle-ridden troops around him, but he was prepared and on alert.

In a row a few behind him, the second soldier was shorter than most, and his stance not as confident as the others, but he held your gaze with unwitting determination. You could barely see his face underneath the iron helm much too big for him and his long brown hair that desperately needed a trim, but everything about him shown he was built for fighting.

You walked back to Wilbur, almost disappointed. None of the soldiers here except for save 10 out of the 60 Wilbur found were what you were looking for. They were all perfect soldiers, no doubt: But this was supposed to be different from the battalions you send to wars.

"Find anyone?" Wilbur asked, getting up from leaning against the podium and turning his head away from the soldiers.

"Rows 1 and 6 look like they belong in a daycare," You crossed your arms and squinted at the people a good twenty feet away from you. "The girl with pink hairs got major bite though, she'd be nice to have around." Said girl was about as tall as the brown haired kid- and she held herself so easily. Like she could blast open a skull and then go right back to carrying normal conversation. Nervousness was hidden deep in her eyes but gave an overall positive demeanor.

"Seven seems fine to me," Wilbur muttered and you're gaze flittered over to someone with a buzz cut and sunglasses obstructing your view of their eyes. His stance was the same as every other soldier, he looks like someone you'd see on the battlefield that just blends in. But there might be character Wilbur sees that you haven't had the chance to yet. The guy's jaw ticked and you could tell straight through the glasses he knew he was being scrutinized. You could see it now, how his stance changed to something more prepared—more battle-ready. "Yeah, he seems alright." You looked at Wilbur with a set smile, and clapped him on the shoulder. "Congratulations Wil, you found some pretty decent people."

"Decent?" Wilbur scoffed, "I'll have you know I watched these people train for hours on end while you were up in a study. They're more than decent I'd say."

"Then say you shall." You smirked at him then formally faced the rows. Around 100 people stood inform of you, all waiting for your next directions. "Soldiers, split into groups of five and line up at the respective archways of the Colosseum!" Wilbur flicked a lever by the main gate and the iron bars boarding the exits opened with a creaky noise.

"On our signal a good old game of capture the arrow will begin, only this time," You held out the gold-tipped arrow in your hand, "Team battle royal, show no mercy to the others and eliminations will continue as the games go on." The soldiers looked at each other in a slight panic and the podium Wilbur and You had been standing on began to rise to the audience section.

"Let the games begin!" Wilbur hollered.

[tanaleth]

For OTPtober day 25, revisiting the first Danse/Sole fic I wrote after falling headfirst into the fandom in the early days of lockdown.

(Excerpt and link under the cut.)

There was too much to process and it was all coming too fast. Cecily looked away from the man before her, away from the glow of the trash can bonfire, and stared into the too-dark night. She couldn't think about it all at once even if she wanted to. Her mind was at its limit.

"All right, soldier?"

That brought her down to earth. She snorted and turned to Danse. "Soldier? Really?"

"I—"

He swallowed and Cecily regretted her response. She hadn't meant it that way. She didn't want to make him uncomfortable or remind him of what he'd lost. Let alone the fact that she outranked him now. Christ.

She tried not to notice the sight of his Adam's apple bobbing. Tried not to notice the way the firelight flickered over the planes of his arms or the shadow at the hollow of his throat, the dark curls on his chest that the thin stained fabric did little to conceal.

She swallowed, too, conscious of every part of her body in a way she hadn't been once in the numbness of the last months. Even that night with the singer, her one evening of reckless disregard for everything she was and had been, had barely penetrated the chill fog. The fog had followed her from the Vault and only... only recently had it started to lift.

"Cecily," she told him.

"Cecily," he repeated, a little quietly. A little more hesitantly than anything she was accustomed to hearing from his mouth. He'd always seemed so sure of himself before that afternoon.

She'd told him that she cared, and it was true. She'd told him that she wanted more than friendship. That was true, too.  

And he'd stared at her agog. As if she'd spoken another language: dipped into her college Latin and told him you-accusative love-first person indicative. Told it to those wide, uncomprehending brown eyes, lit with a desperate hope for someone to tell him he was wrong–that he was worthy.

Maybe that was the answer to what kept him real. Not just the skin, not the way he moved or breathed, but the rest of it. He had a human's flaws and a human's confidence and a human's insecurities, even if the mind that generated them was only electrical impulses.

Wasn't that how everyone's brain worked, when you got down to it? Cecily vaguely recalled studying the subject her freshman year at college. She'd sat by the window of her dorm room. Snow that didn't fall in the Commonwealth anymore drifted down outside while she worked at her shiny new terminal. She'd carefully copied the diagrams from the lecturer's slides, the dendrites and axons and she'd thought, We're computers. We're all just computers, aren't we?

Too bad she'd never dipped her toe into bioethics. Too busy with biathlon—though she'd had ample reason to be grateful for those skills lately, too. Especially the rifle skills.

It wasn't so different, whatever the Brotherhood said. It didn't matter whether your neurons were organic or synthetic. She'd never have said Nick Valentine wasn't a person, but it was easy enough to remember his nature when she could see the blinking and whirring every time he spoke. Looking at Danse? The only thing that made her think he'd been grown in a lab was the degree to which he was painfully, aggressively attractive to her. And the way he stared at her, with sadness tempered by adoration that made her breath come short.

She'd come back to the listening post just after noon. The rumble of vertibird engines had hardly faded into the distance before Danse was pouring his heart out with all the grief and despair he'd kept hidden beneath that calm determination. He'd told her he was nothing. And that was still better than the sad smile he'd worn before, the one that had—again, for the first time since the vault—made her truly afraid.

It wasn't the primal animal fear that kicked her into action when a feral sprang snarling from a catacomb, and it wasn't the uneasiness she felt when yet another person tried to convince her to take charge and lead yet another group of scrappy stragglers. It wasn't even the phantom fear of the early nights when she'd tossed and turned and thought every squeaking bedspring an infant's cry. It was a physical panic, the same strangling helplessness she'd felt pounding an inch-thick panel of tempered glass while the world grew dark at the edges.

She loved him.

How the hell had that happened?

Cecily crouched over her duffel bag, the tightness in her chest making her fingers fumble with the buckles. It wasn't just a crush. Well, it was a crush, but she knew herself better than to think that was all. It didn't even feel disloyal to Nate. It seemed... natural. If she felt guilty for anything, it was her own lack of guilt.

She exhaled sharply and tugged at the contents of the pack.

"Steady," said Danse more alertly, sitting up straight and leaning forward to help her unroll the sleeping bag. "Don't set it on fire."

"It's a synthetic," she muttered. "It'll just melt."

"Polymers release toxins when heated. You shouldn't be breathing that."

No, she shouldn't. Cecily was already too short of breath as his arm moved past her to tug the duffel bag away from the fire. She could feel the heat radiating off his body and her cheeks began to burn.

Apparently she wasn't a synthetic.

Tumblr is not a fan of external links, but you can find the AO3 link in this post (4380 words, rated M for very soft smut).

[prettyflyshyguy]

Teehee what if I was to drop most of the C Virus AU Fanfic CH3 right now at 12:28AM... Unless.

Unedited/draft Ch1, Ch2 first half, Ch2 second half, for your perusal, and here’s a very unedited first chunk of CH3 that isn’t quite finished because I have work tomorrow but it involves interaction with Ada and I’m sitting here all :)))))))))) while writing so I hope you enjoy!

Perched atop a building, he scanned the area below. As he was making his way towards the area where Simmons should be, he had heard gunfire. Despite his grizzly appearance, if someone was in trouble he could still find a way to help, surely. A street facing door was suddenly kicked open and a figure stumbled out, with a crossbow of all things in their hands. 

‘No. Way.’ he thought as he carefully descended from the roof, wanting to get a clearer look. 

The survivor fired a shot at something inside the building, before ducking back. A small explosion occurred and a BOW, screaming and flailing stumbled out. It was more grotesque than the other C-Virus monstrosities he’d seen so far, and it looked like it had a chainsaw for an arm. It screamed in agony while the survivor readied another shot. Carefully maneuvering himself behind some rubble, the light from another small explosion from the crossbow’s bolt illuminated the survivors face for a brief moment, fully confirming his suspicions. 

It was Ada, for sure. At least he thought so. She was wearing the same clothes as when he and Helena saw her in the catacombs. The mystery was still there however; which one was the real Ada Wong? Was there even a singular one? Was she just switching outfits and motives in some twisted game?

Flicking a glance back in her direction, she was staring down at the body of the BOW lying smoking on the floor, inert. He shuffled, ever so carefully, avoiding making any noise so he could tactically reposition to try and make contact. He stiffened as he felt the vibration of rubble shift under his foot, a small amount of dirt and rocks crumbling. 

“Now what do we have here.”

Hoping if he kept still enough, she’d think no one was there, he held his breath. His heart rate increased as he heard the soft clack of her boots on the concrete approaching at a gentle pace, a bolt being loaded. No time to think.

Placing his hands on the ground, crouching back, he launched himself over the rubble, ignoring the sound of a bolt  whizzing just past his ear. Spotting a broken window one floor up a building, he leapt into it and backed up against the wall panting, just as another bolt narrowly missed its mark.

“Honey I didn’t have the time to deal with this overly enthusiastic fellow,”

He heard the sound of another bolt being loaded.

“So how about you help a girl out and make this quick and easy for both of us.”

The ‘thwip’ of a bolt pierced the air and one landed on the other side of the room. It bounced off the wall, fell to the floor and rolled slowly towards him. The head of the bolt looked large and blunt and had a small blinking red LED. He didn’t need to guess what it meant as the rate increased, and the bolt exploded in a flash of light and smoke. 

Ada stared at the cloud billowing out of the window, preparing another round for good measure. Her eyes narrowed as a few seconds passed, with no movement. She raised her weapon and aimed at where the window was, but it was barely visible now as the smoke had spread. 

Suddenly the creature leapt through the smoke with frightening speed, grabbing her arm and pushing it away as she shot the loaded bolt in a random direction. It ripped the crossbow out of her arm and backed up as she spun around to face it, reaching for her holster. 

Feeling nothing, her eyes widened as she noticed it was holding her handgun and crossbow. It tossed the bow aside gently, and with elegance she’d never seen from a BOW removed the magazine from the gun and dropped both parts either side of it. It maintained eye contact with her the entire time, its eyes were piercing and displayed a terrifying degree of human intelligence.

Covering up the fear in her head, she smiled.

“I can’t say I’ve ever met a man who’s tried this hard to get my attention.”

She started to pace slowly around as she drew a knife from her belt, the creature mimicked her pace as they circled. 

It began to raise its arms, she dove in with the knife and test jabbed to check its reflexes. It was fast, faster than her. 

Her expression turned stern. It backed up a few paces, eyes focused on her as she furiously walked closer brandishing the knife.

“I’m a very, busy, woman.” she grunted while slashing. “And I don’t, have the time, for stalkers.”

Whatever the hell she was dealing with, it clearly knew the basics of CQC. Dancing and ducking around her every swing and jab, although it made no attempt to hit her back. Suddenly its eyes flicked to something behind her, a distraction and an opening. She thrusted the knife forward but something grabbed her by the ankle and almost toppled her, one hand slamming into the ground, the other with the knife at the ready. Flicking her head to the source, the charred and burnt BOW with the chainsaw arm simply refused to die, it and had a vice grip around her right ankle. The sound of bone and flesh grinding louder and louder as it lifted its twisted machination of a chainsaw arm up as the teeth and bone started spinning again. 

She looked back to the creature in front of her only to find it gone, suddenly turning back to the one grabbing her ankle, her eyes widened as she saw the second creature holding the chainsaw-arm back, with one foot on the BOW’s back. The charred living corpse let out a chilling howl as the creature pinning it down pulled its arm further back, dislocating the mutated tendons and bone, ripping muscle. The bone-tooth blade stopped spinning and the vice grip loosened. Ada sprung back up and turned around to face the creature that by all intends, spared her. It was panting while staring at the charred corpse, seemingly ensuring it was truly dead this time. She took the opportunity and sprung towards it, holding the knife in both hands.

At almost the last second before the knife hit its chest it flung one arm up to push hers back, and grabbed one of her wrists with its other, stopping her completely in her tracks. She grimaced and stared up at its face, meeting its eyes. There was almost a pleading look to them. Its grip on her wrist was firm, but not painful, she kept the knife pointed at its chest but shifted her weight so not as much force was pushing her into its arms. Despite the overcast sky, a small break in the clouds shifted and moonlight illuminated the scene and the creature's face. That’s when she noticed its unmistakable hair, the soft blue eyes. The fact it didn’t even lay a scratch on her. 

“...Leon?”

His face softened and the concern was replaced with the beginnings of a warm smile, he loosened his grip on her arms and started to relax-

Her knee struck his stomach with frightening force, he stumbled back with a grunt.

“That’s for almost breaking my crossbow.”

He smiled slightly as he cocked his head to one side, probably deserved that. He gently collected her sidearm and magazine, grateful to find out despite his hands shifting he was still able to comfortably reload the gun with ease. She collected her crossbow, a pleased smile graced her face as she examined it and found it was not damaged.

“So, cat got your tongue?” her playful tone hid a mixture of contradicting emotions. 

She turned back to Leon who had a hand extended, holding her sidearm out. Taking it back, she took a moment to actually look at him. He always ‘stood tall’ around her, she noted he was even taller now and actually towered over her with an air of confidence after managing to disarm her so carefully. It was hard to maintain a certain level of composure, he had hardly changed and the thought was warm but looking at what had happened was painful. His eyes were exactly the same but she could barely return his gaze without her composure breaking. 

He shuffled slightly, then opened his mouth. Hoping something normal sounding would come out. 

“Aa…” 

The more he tried to force it, the more it hurt his throat. His shoulders shrunk inwards slightly as he turned his head to face away from her, the embarrassment and shame of the situation returning. He didn’t want to face her like this, he was regretting even trying to talk to h-

“Did Simmons do this?”

Giving up the vocal option, he shook his head. He shifted towards a wall, leaning comfortably facing her, with a flick of the wrist he pointed a finger briefly towards her, then folded his arms.

“... It was the bitch in the blue dress, wasn’t it.”

He tilted his head to one side slightly, his expression stern. 

“After everything I’ve seen, it’d be pretty cold of me to just say ‘it’s complicated’ don’t you think?” she joked with a forced smile.

No one was laughing. Leon had a very high level of tolerance for her usual manner of speaking, cryptic and tangential, not today however. His entire life changed the day they met in Racoon City but this blows that experience well out of the water.

“I don’t know who she is, but Simmons made her using the C-Virus. Starting off as a bootleg version of me but it seems like she’s got big plans of her own now.”

His stare was piercing. 

“I’m sorry.” 

His face softened as he raised an eyebrow in surprise.

“Simmons became… A little too attached to me. I wasn’t interested in playing by his rules, let’s just say he took it a little personally when I didn’t reciprocate his feelings.”

She paced around the courtyard as she spoke.

“I don’t know how he did it, but his obsession resulted in him using the C-Virus to create a very imperfect clone of me. A bootleg Ada Wong if you will.”

Leon snorted in amusement, but he maintained his stance. Closely watching as she stood still and looked back at him.

“I’m not working for Simmons. We’re on the same side, I promise.”

Then who do you work for?

The question echoed in his mind. The one time Ada talks with him at length, he can barely say her name. He looked away, frustrated and ashamed of the circumstance. Hearing her walk closer he turned slightly only to feel the warmth of her hand brush up against his cheek, his eyes flicking towards it and back to her as they widened slightly. His arms fell to his side as her other hand gently rested on his arm. Despite the transformation he still felt the temperature of his face increase, not expecting anyone he knew would even be able to accept what happened to him and be so gentle, especially not Ada. 

“I came here to clean up the mess Simmons started but now… Now it’s personal.”