#Manfred just helping to cover his face
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It’s a lot of fun drawing him blushing tbh.
#dragon age#dragon age the veilguard#DAtV#emmrich volkarin#my art#blushy blushy I hope he turns so red he needs to excuse himself constantly#and all the other companions point it out#ahaha#Manfred just helping to cover his face
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Dragon Age: The Veilguard’s Familiar Faces and Factions
The trailer for Dragon Age: The Veilguard has dropped, and I couldn’t be more excited. It’s like a new breath of life has entered my lungs!
Within the trailer, we now have confirmation of who our seven companions are going to be, and among them are a few familiar faces from the book Dragon Age: Tevinter Nights. We also have some name-droppings of a couple factions featured in the same book and the comics, Dragon Age: The Missing. So, here is what knowledge is established about these faces sand factions.
Neve Gallus & The Shadow Dragons
Neve Gallus was first introduced in the Tevinter Nights story, “The Streets of Minrathous”. She comes off as a no-nonsense and a little intense kind of person. Neve is a Tevinter mage who works as a private investigator. For example, if someone wants some detective work done but doesn’t want the public to know, they would hire Neve. On occasion, she’s even been hired by the templars, who act like just regular cops in Tevinter – and yes, that includes their corruption and primary goal of simply protecting the elite – but Neve prefers to work alone because of that corruption, and has a personal grudge against the order for taking bribes to cover up crimes.
Neve has a prosthetic leg below the knee, made of dwarven-crafted metal.
In The Missing, Neve says she is friends with the Shadow Dragons. In the article shared by EA, as of The Veilguard, she is officially a member. The Shadow Dragons are a group of concerned Tevinter citizens who help those in need. This includes supporting escaped slaves, for example.
Emmrich Volkahrin
Emmrich Volkahrin was first introduced in the Tevinter Nights story, “Down Among the Dead Men”. He is a necromancer from Nevarra, and therefore naturally a member of the Mortalitasi – specifically, a professor in the Mourn Watch. The Watchers serve as elite guardians of the Grand Necropolis. Emmrich is on the eccentric side, personality-wise, but kindly and informal.
Emmrich has a skeleton assistant name of Manfred, who helps him with different office tasks. He also has friends in Myrna, a fellow Watcher, and Audric, a dead guardsmen who looks after the library.
Lucanis Dellamorte
Lucanis Dellamorte was first introduced in the Tevinter Nights story, “The Wigmaker Job”. He is the favourite grandson of Caterina Dellamorte, First Talon (leader) of the Antivan Crows. As such, he was raised from birth to be the perfect assassin in a ruthless and torturous environment, knowing only cruelty from his family. This has led to him feeling less like a person and more like a living weapon – and he is treated like one by everyone who knows of him. He has “the Demon” as a nickname.
I know a few people are curious about the “mage killer” title in the trailer. Rest assured that Lucanis specifically kills evil blood mages. In his own words: “If someone wants to pay me top coin to kill a bunch of racist blood mages—who have it coming—I’m not going to complain.”
Where his cousin Illario has a “silver tongue” as Lucanis puts it, he himself is a lot blunter. His reputation of a killer is spotless, except for one small problem: He has a heart under all that black leather.
Lucanis and Illario get along quite well, except for the fact that Lucanis is destined to be the next First Talon, after Caterina dies. Illario wants the job far more than Lucanis, but Lucanis isn’t sure he’s capable of making a decision for himself that goes against the wishes of the Crows.
The Veil Jumpers
The Veil Jumpers were first introduced in The Missing #3. They are a group made up of primarily Dalish elves, though also inclusive of other folks of any walks of life willing to help, working to try and control the new threats within Arlathan Forest. The forest has become a ground of chaotic magic, with the Veil so thin that time and place is jumbled together. Thus, the Veil Jumpers move in and out of the spots that bleed into one another.
The Veil Jumpers do have a headquarters called “The Sanctum”, but we know nothing else about it.
The Lords of Fortune
Despite the Lords of Fortune being mentioned in more than one Tevinter Nights story, as well as the show Dragon Age: Absolution, we don’t know a lot about them. The only concrete information provided is that they are a loose group of people who collect trinkets and glory. They come out of Rivain. They typically wear a lot of their collected trinkets like badges of honour. That’s really all there is, so I can’t wait to learn more.
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⚠Trigger Warning! Graphic depictions of suicide attempt, suicide ideation, and spiraling thoughts⚠
[Image description: black and white with gray tones, digital drawing of a comic about characters from the Ace Attorney series. Page one: First three panels are of Miles Edgeworth sitting at his desk, which is covered with papers, tired with eye bags and feeling frustrated with himself. His left hand is on his face and it moves back down. He thinks to himself, “What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I even do something as simple as this?” A flashback to Phoenix Wright glaring at Edgeworth, then saying, “It’d been better if you never came back from the dead, Edgeworth!” Pearl Fey is standing next to him with a shocked and worried expression. Page one end. Page two: Miles is shocked and his desk is now covered with sleeping pills and an open pill bottle. An embodiment of Manfred von Karma appears behind Miles and reaches for Miles’s face. Manfred says, “How selfish can you be? Can’t even do me the favor of simply dying. ” The embodiment turns into Miles when he attempted suicide. Messy hair, bloodshot eyes, dried tears, dark circles under his eyes, and pills pouring from his mouth. He is squeezing the real Miles’s face and says, “Why don’t you try it again?” Page two end. Page three: Miles shuts his eyes and covers his ears with his fists while shouting, “No!! I don’t need you anymore!”. He opens his teary eyes when he hears Phoenix say, “Edgeworth.” Miles remembers Phoenix telling him, “Please call me anytime. I want to be there for you this time, okay?”. In the flashback, it is bright, Phoenix is facing forward, smiling with a worried expression, and holding his phone. The present Miles looks forward and calmed down a little. He’s still shaken up a bit. Page three end. Page four: Throughout the three panels, Miles is reaching for his smart phone on the desk, pulls away, then grabs his phone. Quotes from various characters: Phoenix, Gant, Manfred, and Franziska are scattered throughout the page. First panel, “I never wanted to see you again! To think that your motivation for prosecuting trials was so selfish…” by Phoenix. “I can feel it. You and me… we’re the same.” by Gant. Second panel, “You can let what happened kill the prosecutor inside you, or you can let it help you grow. I’ll be waiting for you in court…” by Phoenix. “Our battle… begins now… so you had better prepare yourself, Miles Edgeworth!” by Franziska. Third panel, “You have fallen so far. All these years I guided you, raised you as my own. You and your father are my curse!” by Manfred. “A von Karma is someone who is destined to be perfect! You are no longer worthy of being a von Karma! And neither am I!” by Franziska. Page four end. Page five: Miles is calling Phoenix. It rings throughout the page. The embodiment of Miles yells, “Stop! He will just hate you more than he already does!”. He is crying as he says, “ Then… I’ll truly be alone.” He has both hands raised to around his collarbone level and ink is smudged on his right hand. Miles reaches for his face and it startles his embodiment. The last panel is brighter. Miles, with closed eyes and somber expression, is holding his own face and reassuring himself by saying, “Don’t worry… I trust him.” Miles’s chair is squeaking as he rocks back and forth while leaning on his desk. Page five end. Page six: It is single light page with the phone ringing and getting picked up. Then Phoenix answers, “ Hello? Edgeworth?”. Comic end. End description]
Links to help Palestine and other resources! 🇵🇸
[Plain text: Links to help Palestine and other resources! (palestine flag). End plain text.]
Some extra thoughts below! These are just my personal interpretations of what I watched. I'll try to make sense of what I'm saying LOL 🏃♀️🏃♀️
Again, trigger warning for suicide attempt+ ideation!
Something I noticed while skimming through Farewell, My Turnabout is the similarities between Miles and Adrian Andrews. They directly connected Franziska and Adrian at the end, but they kinda just "hinted" at Miles being similar to Adrian. The main thing that stood out to me is when Miles starts explaining how Adrian is putting up a façade by acting strong. The background fades to black (TWICE), which is something that mostly happens when it's something important, putting focus onto Miles while he talks about how Adrian "lost her will to live" after losing Inpax. Inpax was Adrian's "pillar of strength" and when Inpax comitted suicide, Adrian completely fell apart. She then started to act just like Inpax to cope with losing herself and her mentor. That sounds like the relationship between Miles (and Franziska) and Manfred.
Miles's and Franziska's whole life with Manfred was them depending on him to validate/approve of them. When Manfred left their lives, they started to fall apart trying to gain approval of a man who isn't there anymore. Franziska's confidence was chipped away throughout every case because she kept losing against Phoenix. Miles fell apart a lot quicker (cuz Franziska wasn't created until after--).
Throughout Rise from the Ashes, multiple characters point out how Miles was not doing well and it progressively gets worse. This honestly confused me because Phoenix did notice that Miles wasn't doing okay. He even told Miles that he needs to choose between killing the prosecutor within him or let it help him grow. This interaction is at the very end of the case. Idk if "killing the prosecutor within" was ever brought up before that, but that was interesting cuz I kept seeing people say that Miles wrote that in his note out of nowhere.
With everything that Miles went through in just 2 MONTHS- it makes sense to me if he was not okay. His whole life was uprooted again after 15 years, he was betrayed by almost everyone he trusted, his adoptive dad killed his biological dad and tried to blame it on him, he was brought out on a boat in the middle of the night and shot at, Gant+ Lana used his knife to stab a person's body and made him unknowingly transport it in his own car, Gant saying that he's just like him, etc. Like DAMN bro, what the heck 😭
Also, the thing that made me want to make this comic was when Phoenix told Miles that "everyone would be better off if he stayed dead". Imo, I think it's understandable why Phoenix is angry at Miles. He felt betrayed and couldn't face the fact that Miles isn't who he was when he was 9. There was a post talking about it in more detail, but I mostly agree with what they had to say about it. Phoenix put an unfair standard onto Miles and got hurt when Miles couldn't meet that expectation. He wanted to "save" Miles by solving the DL-6 case and then thought that Miles would go back to how he was when they were kids. When he realized that it doesn't work like that, at least not right away, he felt betrayed. I love that they wrote Phoenix, the protagonist, with these traits tbh. I think it's very interesting! I just wished that they added a scene where Phoenix apologized for saying that Miles should stay dead tho cuz that's never okay to say to anyone, let alone someone you care about and apparently "know better than anyone else" 👁👁
Another thing I noticed is how different the characters treat Adrian vs Miles with the topic of "death". For some reason they're very sympathetic and delicate with Adrian, but then tell Miles to die. Phoenix tells Miles that everyone would be better off if he stayed dead, but then calls Miles cold for telling Adrian that if she decides to "choose death", then it is of no concern to him. Which goes right into my next point.
Miles seemed like he really didn't want to bring up Adrian's suicide attempt and her mental illness. It seemed like they tried everything to get her to talk, but because Franziska told her not to testify, Adrian kept trying to stay quiet. Even the judge was trying to get her to testify by saying at this point, it's looking like she's guilty. In any other situation, what Miles said to her would be uncalled for, but this was literally life or death for Adrian. Also, with context, Miles said that regardless of what she decided to do after the trial, she needed to talk now. She was asking for someone to help her, but only she can accept that help. He could've definitely put it in a way better way tho like damn. I think he's projecting how he talks to himself onto Adrian tbh 👀 It's honestly just a really shitty situation for Adrian to be in cuz no matter the reason, she was forced to face her worst fear. If anyone is to blame for all this bs, it's definitely Matt Engarde and Juan Corrida imo-- 🏃♀️🏃♀️ Her illness was something Adrian would have to face sooner or later, it just sucks that it had to be like this 😢 Another thing I noticed is when Adrian said that if the truth of her illness were to come out she couldn't finish her sentence. Then Miles finished it for her by asking if she would "choose death". That's a more obvious clue that maybe Miles's note was a suicide note, since it was used in the context of committing suicide.
This guy is always on my mind-- All of them are always on my mind tbh 😭 I just wanted to draw Miles struggling (just the usual on this account) SKMSDKLML I also wanted to show that healing isn't linear and there are a LOT of times where it's just hard. I also wanted to show that Phoenix (and literally everyone else OvO) does want to be there for him despite everything, Miles just has to be brave and accept his support. I just want them to be happy DAMN 😭😭
I feel like I have so much more to talk about, but I can't think of anything else rn. I hope all of this makes sense- I'd love to read your thoughts on this or if you have any questions! Just keep it respectful, please 🥺
#image described#ace attorney#miles edgeworth#phoenix wright#tw sui ideation#tw sui attempt#wrightworth#narumitsu#<< it's implied#Manfred von karma#Pearl Fey#fanart#art#digital art#comic#SinnaArt#sorry for the long post#skmsdfsm 🏃♀️🏃♀️🏃♀️🏃♀️#i also tried to add an ID so i hope it's okay#the quotes from page 4 are from both the games and the anime#long post
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Just poring over some of the new images. ◕‿◕
I like the overall shape of the dragon, its wings and silhouette, like it's maintaining this theme, two. It particularly reminds me of the DAII cover, with the figures of other characters being present in the dragon's wings. the pattern in the background gives the impression of a sunburst or explosion/outwards burst of energy (there's been lots of that going around in promo images for DA:TV over the years hasn't there). :D chunks of rock float around, which by now is associated with Fadey stuff (floating rocks in the Fade), the barrier (Veil) crumbling in key arts, and reality warping in places like Arlathan Forest. the dragon, open-mouthed, golden-eyed and ready to breathe fire, recalls the dragons on the Dragon Age vinyl arts, two, especially with its general position, and the dragon in this screenshot/scene. in the background at the bottom you can even see a hint of the 'concentric circles' pattern that represents the Veil.
I love that this group shot truly does include the whole team, including Assan and Manfred. I wonder if they will come into the field too if we select Davrin or Emmrich to come out with us respectively? We saw Assan capably fighting darkspawn in the character trailer, and in this image Manfred is helping fend the monsters off. Does Manfred carry Emmrich's stuff in his lil backpack..? 🥺 and I wonder what the purpose of Manfred's goggles are. Visually they set him apart from other skeleton/undead-type enemies and make it so you don't have to peer into empty the eyesockets of a skull, but also they're green (necromancy magic color) and we see Emmrich doing magic on them here. Are they part of the enchantment keeping him animated? also happy to see Varric in this one even though he is not one of the 7 companions. also, Bianca is still here. RIP
Taash looks so cool. :D Even her weapons are gold. her upper body armor in this piece has the aesthetic to me of like a dragon's ribbed armored chest and underside. I like that her weapons are unique generally, and from each other too. her dual-wielding like this as [I presume] a warrior differentiates her from Rook who if a warrior would be sword and shield or twohanded. her gauntlets look like they have dragon teeth or spines on them (the sticky-out parts that are not scale-like).
Davrin is at Rook's right hand. ♡ the floating triangles near Bellara show that she is using her magical device. I wonder what the white sphere part of Neve's wand/staff is. like, in this particular image it gives me the impression of a big pearl. Lucanis' eyes are glowing, like we see here, in that way that seems to hint that something interesting is going on there. overall it's cool to see all the team and cast together like this, working together heroically to stave off doom.
some of the monsters the group are fighting at least are red lyrium darkspawn. the ones with 'shark fin'-shaped headpieces are the same kind as the one at that link. are the rest all darkspawn too (there are different types of darkspawn ofc), or are there some walking dead mixed in there? (lol at the one Varric has just shot in the face). the non-sharkhead ones seem to be these guys from concept art. the prominence of darkspawn in this key art give the impression that we will fight a lot of red lyrium darkspawn in this game and that the threat they pose, including the Blight, is a significant part of the game's storyline.
at the center of it all and at the forefront is Rook. in a nice bit of poetic mirroring (the Wolf and the Rook), they too stand on a rocky outcropping, also with the knife - just like this. the knife is blue here.. blue lyrium influence? the very ground on which they stand bursts with energy. I wonder if Rook's outfit here is sort of their default, iconic look, like the Champion of Kirkwall armor for Hawke etc? I love that they have a cape and the point of their helmet gives them a bird-like feel. (omg.. we can have capes in this game fr). they have the Veilguard symbol on their chest. and could they be canonically left-handed..? :)
#dragon age: the veilguard#dragon age: dreadwolf#dragon age 4#the dread wolf rises#da4#dragon age#bioware#video games#long post#longpost#solas#between info gathering and compiling etc i didnt have any time at all to do this in recent days 😅 pls pardon me for bein late to the party#dragon age the veilguard spoilers
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I haven't written in ages, please enjoy.
Emmrich Volkarin/F!Rook/Antivan Crow/Spellsword
SFW/Fluff/I don't have an AO3 account yet weeee
~Tea Time~
There was something magical about strange herbs in hot water. Not the herbs the Crows used to dull the minds of their victims, no, but the ones that Rook would smell wafting from the kettle over the fire in the Lighthouse. The real fire, not the blue-green veilfire that caused the dark stone to always look like light filtering through shallow pools.
The plants inside each concoction would change, depending on the mood of the creator. From light and fruity when a battle had gone well to the smell of campfire and smoke when something particularly disturbing had revealed itself. As time passed, Rook knew exactly how the tea’s creator had felt with each simmering pot.
She didn’t know why she was so drawn to him. She was an assassin, a Crow, a spellsword, a murderer. He’d probably soothed spirits trapped in the bodies of some of her victims, helping them rest after she had brutally struck them down in the dark. But here she was, and there he was, all elaborate robes and bangles and kind eyes while she stared at his back all sharp features, sharp blades, and an even sharper tongue.
She watched him now, digging through jars of multi-colored plants that he’d stored in a makeshift larder near the hearth, mumbling to himself while he handed them to his skeleton servant. Friend? They weren’t even labeled. She’d seen him on multiple occasions grab a handful of plants while they were on missions only to stuff them absently into an odd-shaped jar for later use.
Manfred’s jaw opened slightly and he began to teeter as Emmrich handed him a tall jar filled with wicked looking seed pods. His head tilted towards Rook as if to ask for help but she had already stood up, inhumanly fast, to catch the falling jar of tea.
“Ah, thank you Rook.” He didn’t even look over his shoulder. “Manfred just say something next time if you need help," he chuckled, knowing the animated creature of bones and cloth couldn't talk.
The skeleton looked as indignant as he could and clacked his jaw shut. She swore she shared a knowing look with him as to say “please help this old fool”, but it was probably just her imagination. Rook was so close to the necromancer she could smell the tea he was making in an intricate bronze kettle. It was different than any of the ones he’d made before, this time she smelled flowers. Roses? They smelled so familiar to her.
“Emmrich what are you making this time? It smells delightful. It reminds me of Antiva for some reason.” She moved over to the circular wooden table in the center of the room and pushed over a few maps and battle plans, including some inappropriate drawings Bellara had made of Assan biting the heads off of demons. As she set the jars down she could feel his eyes burning into the back of her neck while he spoke slowly, deliberately, following the sound of tea pouring and cup against saucer.
“Antivan coastal roses, elfroot, orange essence, a light, airy red tea that brews a deep purple if the water is hot enough.”
There it was. That soft voice, that caring tone, and the feeling it caused in her chest that she fought to force down.
“That’s ah, oddly specific. Is this because of what happened with the dragon? I thought death was something beautiful," she awkwardly shifted a few scrolls around the table. "Plus it was only a scratch.”
She’d been unconscious for three days and Taash had built her a coffin.
“Not when it’s someone you would much rather see amongst the living.”
The touch on her shoulder nearly caused her to jump out of her skin. She had no idea how that man walked so silently with so much ridiculous jewelry on. It had to be dark, twisted magic.
She felt him reach around her with his other hand and hold the tea in front of her face. The cup was white and covered in deep green vines on a delicate plate, the tea a dark purple color steaming and smelling like roses and orange and sunshine on the coast. He didn’t move his hand and she was incredibly thankful he couldn’t see her face blush at his proximity behind her.
“The elfroot is because I’ve still seen you limping,” he whispered, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. She couldn’t move, he was too close to her and she could feel the heat radiating off him and the tea and her mind froze. She reached for the cup and took a sip, it was all she could do.
It tasted more floral than she had expected, along with the brightness of the orange, but slightly sweet. He must have added honey to cover up the bitterness of the elfroot.
“I like it. Thank you Emmrich.”
She could have sworn he got closer to her before he took his hand away.
“I think I’ll call it the Crow’s Cure,” his voice was soft again. Gentle, caring, and in the pit of her stomach she knew it was a voice he saved just for her.
“I’ll make it for you whenever you desire."
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here it is: the culmination of my Solavellan brain rot. thank you to @kiastirling, @rosella-writes, @shouldaspunastory, @midmorninggrey, and @seigephoenix for enabling me.
and special thanks to @lasatfat for beta reading!
They all knew the danger of trying to free Solas, but every one of them accepted the risk. The ritual to break apart the prison was difficult enough -- between the four mages of their group, they just barely had enough power to pull it off -- and that was without the hordes of Ghilan’nain’s corrupted creations swarming them.
Lavellan’s voice shouted over the din of battle as their companions fended off the ravenous swarm. “Focus on the barrier!” she cried. “Let my will draw from you!” Rook felt a sense of nostalgia for the words, but the feeling wasn’t her own.
And so their combined magic surged against the prison’s barrier, unraveling it layer after layer. The feeling of her magic being drawn from her initially unsettled Rook, but the Inquisitor’s control was precise. She wasted no time, no energy, in her systematic dismantling of the arcane protection.
But the further they got, the harder it became as their magic steadily dried up. Neve was the first to pull back, sweat coursing down her brow. Emmrich, Rook's mentor and oldest friend, held out a bit longer; but he, too, withdrew with a shaky gasp. But they were so, so close.
A skeleton’s hand entered her field of view, pressing a vial to her lips. Rook guzzled the lyrium draft gratefully, her gaze never wavering from the unraveling prison. “Thanks, Manfred.” She heard his pleased chattering and smiled.
Lavellan’s whole body trembled with the effort of the ritual. Rook redoubled her focus, pouring her newly regenerated magic into the spell as the Inquisitor let out a choked, “Fen'Harel ar ghilana!”
The translation came unbidden: The Dread Wolf guides me. Normally, that would have been self-deprecating, if what Rook knew about the Dalish and their views on Fen’Harel were correct. But with Lavellan, it was a battle-cry she felt in the very marrow of her bones. And with a last push, the final layer of the prison cracked.
Ancient power surged from within, bursting from confinement and washing over them in a concussive wave that sent Rook sprawling. Ghilan’nain’s minions dissolved into the Fade, their bodies torn asunder by Solas’s sheer force of will. When Rook squinted through the swirling dust and magical debris, she found Lavellan wrapped in the arms of Solas, kissing him as if her life depended on it. They separated a hair’s breadth and whispered words Rook could not — did not want to — hear. Then, as if they couldn’t help it, they kissed again.
They should have expected the goddess’s arrival, but they were caught unprepared. Her voice-that-was-not-a-voice thundered through the Fade, her words conveyed in a wave of rage and hate that stole Rook’s breath.
Dread Wolf, I shall rip out your heart myself.
Solas answered her threat by running — not away, but toward her looming presence. As he ran, his stride lengthened, his body rippling and shifting and growing until he sprinted on four massive paws. Scales covered much of his lupine form, save for a tuft of fur that spanned the length of his spine. His muzzle was as much a dragon’s as it was a wolf’s, his six eyes glowing red over top his snarling maw.
A battle between gods was no place for mortals, Rook quickly realized. She tried to grab Lavellan’s arm, tried to pull her back to safety, but the elf was determined to help Solas, somehow.
“The best way you can help him is to stay out of his way!” Rook shouted over the deafening shrieks of Ghilan’nain. “Inquisitor, please, heed some sense!”
“I can’t let him face this alone!” She fought Rook’s grip, her lone hand scrabbling against Rook’s two. “Fenedhis, let me go!”
“You’re tired and your magic is spent,” Rook panted. “What could you possibly do to help him?”
The elf stilled in her grasp, but Rook didn’t let go, wary of a trick. Lavellan turned to look back and up at Rook, tears in her eyes. “I don’t want him to be alone.”
“Then don’t die here. Get to safety, and when he’s done, you can let him not be alone then.”
The Inquisitor closed her eyes and let out a shuddering sob. But she nodded.
Together, they raced away from the embattled gods as the Fade felt like it was falling down all around them. A powerful yelp, like that of a giant wolf, stopped them in their tracks.
“Solas,” Lavellan breathed, turning back to look.
“Inquisitor,” Rook warned, but the elf suddenly grabbed her and dragged her out of the way of a falling chunk of rock that would have seriously injured her. “Thanks,” she gasped, clutching at the Inquisitor’s robes.
“Where is he?” Her voice was tense, strained. “Rook, I don’t see him.”
Indeed, Rook couldn’t see him either, but Ghilan’nain saw them. The goddess was like a storm in the sky, an unstoppable power that surged forward and swept everything into chaos. And she was aimed right for the two mages.
Her progress was halted when the giant wolf leapt onto her from behind, his teeth tearing into her shoulder as she shrieked.
“Inquisitor, we have to leave now,” Rook insisted, tugging on the elf’s arm. Lavellan stared at the battle a moment longer, before turning to flee.
They found their path blocked by a mass of sickly grey, fleshy tentacles that writhed and reached for them blindly. Rook cursed and quickly backed away from them, but they crawled toward the two women with murderous intent.
Rook drank down another lyrium draft — the last one on her person — and tossed aside the vial as her power regrew within her. Her magic erupted from the ground as skeletal hands that reached for the fleshy appendages, dragging them down and holding them inert. It wouldn’t last, but it would let Rook and Lavellan put some distance between them and the strangling tendrils.
The tentacles were tied to Ghilan’nain, Rook knew. The goddess’s death would purge them, but until then, they would spread like the Blight, destroying all in their path.
They would have to fight her.
“Do you have any strength left, Inquisitor?” she asked, steeling herself.
“Not much,” the elf admitted.
“Then save it to protect yourself. I’m going to try to help him.”
Lavellan swore. “Of all the times to run out of lyrium—“
“Watch our backs, Inquisitor,” Rook urged, then she reached deep into her power. The spell was one she knew only in theory, taught by Emmrich and demonstrated by him only once before. She prayed to the Maker and Andraste that it would work, and surged her magic into the Fade.
The torso of a giant skeleton erupted from the stone behind Ghilan’nain, its massive arms wrapping around the goddess and pinning her many arms in place. It felt like a clumsy marionette, its movements slower than Rook would have liked; but its strength held up to the goddess’s wrath. Her dark, depthless eyes found Rook, sending a chill down her spine that promised death.
The Inquisitor’s warning shout had her dropping low to the ground reflexively, her focus intent on her spell, keeping Ghilan’nain open to Solas’s attacks. It wasn’t until she felt warm liquid dripping down on her that her focus wavered and she glanced back —
Panic clawed at her heart as she took in the sight. Surely this was a nightmare, and she would wake up in a few moments and everything would be fine. Surely the Inquisitor wasn’t actually standing over her protectively with a jagged spike of rock embedded in her chest and emerging from her back.
Surely not.
The horrified cry that tore from her throat was real. Her spell forgotten, she reached out and caught Lavellan as the elf’s legs gave out from under her, collapsing her against her human companion.
Rook clutched at her desperately, sensing the life ebbing from her. “No, no, no,” she begged, hand hovering over the deadly projectile uselessly. “Don’t do this, Inquisitor!”
Lavellan’s face was so pale, her eyes glassy, but one corner of her mouth quirked up in a smile. “Perhaps later, Rook,” she breathed. Her gaze flicked to the ongoing battle, the skeleton having disappeared the moment Rook’s focus was broken. A single tear fell from the elf’s eyes. “In another world.”
---
In the end, the goddess fled. Exhausted, Solas let her go, his attention returning to the huddled figures of Rook and Lavellan as he fell back into his elf form. Something wasn’t right, he realized, and broke into a run.
Lavellan’s eyes stared blankly at where the battle had been, her pale face unmoving as he approached. Rook reached with shaking fingers and lowered her eyelids. But that would mean…would mean…
“No.” It was a flat refusal to believe the truth of his eyes.
A broken sob shook Rook’s body. “She protected me.”
Rage surged through him then, burning away his weariness with searing claws. “How could you let this happen?” he demanded, reaching for Lavellan, but pulling away at the last moment. If he touched her and felt her stillness, it would make this real. It couldn’t be real.
“She chose, Solas,” Rook spat through tears. “Don’t you think I would have protected her if I could?”
“Release her,” he ordered with deadly softness. Rook looked up at him incredulously, then carefully lowered the Inquisitor onto the bloody stone beneath her. As soon as she was free, Solas waved a hand and sent Rook back to her allies outside of the Fade, where they awaited their leader.
He fell to his knees. Shaking hands gripped the spike that had killed Lavellan, pulled it from her flesh, and tossed it aside. Carefully, gently, he lifted her into his arms and cradled her motionless form against his chest. She was still warm, but no breath stirred. No heartbeat carried a lovely blush to her cheeks, no indomitable spirit dwelt behind inquisitive eyes that always, always, wanted to know more.
He supposed Ghilan’nain accomplished her threat after all. Here was his heart, broken and limp in his arms.
She had been determined until the very end, he knew. Even from his confinement, he could see her dreams from afar. In them, they were a happy family, the two of them and — the thought burned like acid within him now — their children. How happy they had been, living quietly and full of love. His favorite had been the dream where she rested her head on his shoulder, their children snuggled up against them both as he read stories of ancient Arlathan aloud.
Lavellan believed with all her heart that somehow, they would be able to make that dream a reality. Somehow, somewhere down the line, Solas had begun to hope, too. What a fool he had been.
If only he had been stronger, had turned her away the first time she kissed him, perhaps she would still be alive, happy somewhere else, with someone else. But how could he resist her? She was strong, brilliant, endlessly curious, and—and dead. She was dead, and he could do nothing.
Once again, he failed that which he loved most. His ritual was supposed to fix everything, but that human had to go and interrupt. Because of her, Ellana lay dead in his arms, along with any hope for their future. This prison was far worse than the one he just escaped.
Sometime later — perhaps it was an hour, a day, or an age, he wasn’t sure — he stood and emerged from the Fade in a flash of green light. Exhaustion and grief lay over the once-vibrant Veilguard like a suffocating shroud. Rook sat slumped on a rock, elbows braced on her knees, and stared down at her hands, at the drying blood coating her fingers. He kept his face carefully blank as her attention snapped to him.
“Solas.” Rook’s voice came out hoarse and scratchy. “I’m sorry. I didn’t—“
“Spare me your platitudes.” His response was flat, unyielding. “Do not forget that you caused all of this.”
“Bullshit!” Now she glared at him, any hint of sympathy gone. “You started this chain of events long before I was ever unfortunate enough to cross your path! Her blood is on your hands, Dread Wolf.”
He saw the regret on her face as soon as the last syllable fell from her lips, but it didn’t matter. Not when he bore the body of his lost love in his arms.
Ellana Lavellan, former Inquisitor and advisor to the Veilguard, looked peaceful in death. No longer was her face pinched with exhaustion, nor her lips pressed into a thin line as it was whenever she considered their impossible position. She bore no expression at all.
Solas turned and walked away without another word.
“Wait!” He heard Rook's uneven gait as she limped after him. “Where are you going? We still need your help.”
He paused, but didn’t turn to look at her. “I must find a worthy resting place. Somewhere she will not be disturbed.”
“But you’ll come back?”
“Yes.” His tone was flat, emotionless.
After a pause, her voice was uncharacteristically tentative. “I could let you speak to her again, for a moment. To say goodbye.” He was silent for so long that she added, “It’s more than most folk get.”
The ancient elf gazed down at his love, considering the human’s words. Rook took the opportunity to step closer and reached for the flask on her belt. Under his suspicious watch, she wet a clean spot on her cloak with water and gently washed the grime of battle from the Inquisitor’s face. It was a small thing — one of many courtesies she offered the dead in the Grand Necropolis — but it brought her own heart a small measure of peace to see Lavellan look more like herself than a battered corpse.
Once, Lavellan had been alive. When life flowed through her veins, she offered wise counsel to Rook on several occasions. She never complained when things got difficult, never lashed out in anger when Rook’s patience ran thin and her tongue sharpened like a stiletto. Instead, she would smile and say, “Perhaps we should come back to this later, Rook.”
And she never lost faith in Solas. Despite their years apart and what she saw as his determinedness to torture himself, she remained a staunch defender of the dreamer she fell in love with so long ago. It was because of that love that he now walked free — and she lay still in the cradle of his arms. What would he say? Could he say anything that would be worth drawing her out of her much-earned rest?
“No,” he said simply. Rook let him pass as he bore the burden of his failure away.
He would return to help them fight, as he promised. He would not dishonor the Inquisitor’s memory by going back on that agreement, but a new heaviness weighed on him at the prospect of more fighting. There would be more death, more destruction, and for what?
As far as he was concerned, the dawn would not come.
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His Name Is Isaac
Fandom: Detroit: Become Human
Main Characters: Leo Manfred x Zlatko's Creature "Isaac"
Trigger Warnings: Drug mentions/use, graphic violence, PTSD flashbacks/triggers, death mentions, eventual smut.
DNI if you're not 18+, please.
Can also be read on AO3 here
Summary: Working to better himself, Leo has found himself on slightly better terms with Markus these days, making him more sympathetic to the android cause. While old and bad habits still often find ways to intrude on his life, he doesn't make the choice to leave behind an android that is clearly on the verge of shutting down on his way home one day. Little does he know, he and this android have met before some time ago; Before Leo even thought to get clean. How will having to face someone he's downright abused fair? He has no clue, but he does know that he wants to be better.
Notes:
- This takes place post revolution where Markus and Leo are on speaking terms. - New Jericho has taken place of the fallen ship 'Jericho' and androids are in a slightly better place than they were before as well as during the game.
Chapter 1
If things were different, if Leo hadn't actively made attempts to change after his altercation with Markus, he wonders what would have ended up becoming of the android he found tonight. The last thing he expected on his way home was to run into a clearly heavily altered android. Only reason he saw the guy was because of those bright, orange glowing eyes. Even though most of their altered body was concealed with clothing it was still easy to see their being disfigured. What's worse? They looked barely functional. Parts of their body was covered in snow; Lights of his eyes blinking slowly in and out as though he could visibly see the life leaving their eyes. Despite that, Leo ends up leaving. Walking away and mentally telling himself that it's not his problem.
Guilt strikes him as he nears home. Just a block or so away from where he saw that android. Could he really bring himself to just leave them there after all the progress he's made to improve himself? Could he ever face Markus again - someone whom he's finally on speaking terms with again after apologizing for everything he's done. Not before getting clean though. Or making strides to, anyway. For the most part things were going his way but.. Was this the world testing him somehow? He sighs and before he knows it, he's returned to the android and decided to make the difficult journey of dragging them back to his apartment. It's a struggle, but seeing as the situation appears to be dire, he makes the call to Markus. Tells him he's found someone who needs their help whilst struggling down the snow covered side walk; An android taller than he is being practically draped over his back. Relief washes over him once he finally reaches home and gets the guy inside.
As Markus told him, he turns the heater up a bit before grabbing some blankets. An attempt to warm the frozen android while waiting for help to arrive. And oh, they do. Needless to say, Markus appeared surprised upon seeing that Leo was telling the truth. He'd only come on the off chance Leo was being honest, not wanting to risk losing one of their kind in doubting what is essentially his brother. Markus and others from New Jericho end up taking the android with them and just like that he's suddenly left on his own.
Left to his thoughts now, Leo furrows his brows, head tilting slightly in thought as he thinks about how if this were any other time in his life he likely would have left that android to die. Hell, he wouldn't have even thought it could die. Before, he would have thought they were just some stupid, lifeless machine. Like how Leo originally thought of Markus. Yet he had grown jealous of the android. Jealous of the relationship Markus had with his father - one that he, himself so desperately wanted from him. Unfortunately, his father has now passed though he also can't help but to wonder if Carl would be proud of him for changing. For the better, of course. At least he hopes he's changing for the better. Exhausted from the day, Leo ends up going to bed without eating. Who could blame him after lugging that big guy all the way to his house like that?
A few days later and Leo finds himself wondering if that android made it. He assumed he would hear something from Markus, but he has to remind himself that Markus is a busy go. So, even when Leo is the one to contact him first, he tries his best to be patient. He's not really sure why he feels so concerned. Even if Leo leaned more toward seeing androids as living things now, it didn't change the fact he didn't know them. Maybe it's because he'd gotten involved? Rather than a text from Markus being the answer to his questions Leo is suddenly greeted by said android. He hadn't expected them to just show up like that, Leo answering the door like normal after hearing the doorbell to be greeted by those bright, orange eyes again. "Whoa.." They look more interesting in the daylight. Less scary than they did in the dark where he found them. He's sure if there wasn't light reflecting off the snow that he likely would have left the guy to die.. You know, because he's a bit of a wuss that way. He supposes they're lucky things turned out the way they did.
Leo shakes his head and momentarily closes his eyes tight. Where was his mind even wandering just now? Gawking at the android like some kind of weirdo while his thoughts drifted. He must think he's crazy. Just looking at them he can tell that they're surprised by his reaction. Though.. not really. They have to deal with that a lot. He assumes so. "Fuck - Uh.. I mean - you're that dude I helped, right?" The conversation is already awkward as hell. He can feel it and it makes him stiffen, standing uncomfortably. "Looks like you made it. Good on ya." What the actual fuck was that, Leo? Seriously?
The silence is what gets to him. They're not responding? Not only that, but as he actually exams the android's face - that red colour in their LED.. that meant something bad, right? Was he.. Were they scared? "Y-You.. You're.." Finally, they speak though their words don't make sense. Brows furrow in confusion before Leo lets out a small huh? in reply. "Do I.. know you?" The answer to that is complicated. Of course Leo wouldn't remember them. They looked so different then. Unaltered, appearing more like any other android you'd find on the street. "You.." They pause and leave him more confused than ever. He feels himself getting a bit impatient though at least they're speaking again before Leo makes that known. "We had an unfortunate encounter once.." Their gaze averts only to settle back onto Leo again. As though he thought it silly to let his guard down by looking away from him. "I looked.. different then."
Oh. Now he gets it. There's one particular occurrence that comes to mind when they say that. It'd been a few months before he was injured by Markus in their fight and in one of his drugged stupors he.. wailed on an android pretty hard. To vent his frustrations, in a way. Thinking about it now? What he did wasn't right. He feels guilty - he should. "Hey man, I'm.. It probably doesn't mean shit," Leo begins, hands hiding in his pockets as he sort of shrinks into himself "But I was uh.. a different person back then. I'm.." One of his hands withdraws from his pocket, fidgeting and finding it difficult to keep still; Hand rubbing the back of his neck lightly "What I'm trying to say is I'm sorry, dude. Probably doesn't mean shit coming from someone who beat your ass, but I know I fucked up."
The apology is almost comical. It's awkward, Leo clearly doesn't know what to say in order to properly express himself, and the android is visibly.. smiling? Trying not to chuckle at him? Yeah, that's what he's seeing right now. "I.. believe you. The fact you saved me after all of that.. I believe you." Even if Leo didn't realize who he was it's still clear that they changed in their saving an android as a whole. Not something someone who hasn't changed would do, they think. "I'm not sure I can really trust you.. but.. I do forgive you." Because as Leo could see, he wasn't the only horrible human that had gotten their hands on him. Though he would consider Zlatko to be far worse than Leo, that's for sure. "Maybe we can change that?" Leo is blinking in surprise. Are they suggesting they be friends? "Man, you're weird as hell." A bit of amusement is within his voice, gaze drifting almost awkwardly off to the side. "But fuck it - why not?" His foot kicks at the ground a bit, small smile tugging at his lips. "Gotta name, man? Or should I just call you Genos or some shit?" A snort of amusement escapes him. "My name is Isaac."
"Name's Leo."
#detroit become human#dbh rarepair#dbh fanfiction#leo manfred#zlatko's creatures#leo manfred x zlatko's creature#yes hello here's my obscure ship#it's only chapter 1 tho dfoinvdovfn#my first attempt at writing fic yaaaaay
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Study Break
Emmrich has a bad habit of overworking, something Katareth is all too eager to help him break.
Rating: E (18+) (this is just smut, y'all)
AO3
It was technically a rest day for the Mourn Watchers, though they both insisted on waking up with everyone else to get an early start on their work. After seeing the others off, the couple migrated to Katareth’s study, finding it to be the quietest space in the Lighthouse. Manfred was organizing manuscripts in Emmrich’s den, and Gustav, Kat’s skeletal horse, was occupied exploring the grounds surrounding their base with Assan, leaving her cozy office empty.
The coffee table was covered in all manner of annotated books, hastily-scrawled notes, and a pot of tea that had long since cooled. They’d been collaborating on a paper regarding the Veil’s current instability and its effects on summoned spirits for several hours, evidenced by the cramp the qunari was massaging out of her neck.
Leaning back in her armchair, she looked over to her long-time coworker turned lover with a fond smirk. Their relationship was a relatively recent thing, only coming about a few months ago following a rather embarrassing incident for all involved (and a particularly meddlesome dwarf), but she found them to be some of the most fulfilling months of her life. They continued to maintain the friendship they’d cultivated for the past two decades, though now there was an added romantic zeal that Katareth found exhilarating.
She’d engaged in strictly physical encounters with people here and there to relieve stress, though her overwhelmingly timid nature had her ushering people out the door as soon as each of their needs had been met. Emmrich was her first real relationship since she’d joined the Mortalitasi, and the first one she’d ever had where she didn’t feel like the object of someone’s fetish. He’d been ceaselessly patient with her thus far as she navigated the novel waters of domesticity including communicating feelings, non-sexual intimacy, and the most foreign concept of all: sharing the same bed with someone after sex.
She watched as he sighed, rubbing his eyes as he collected his teacup.
Stifling a yawn, Kat suggested, “Why don’t we take a break? We’ve been at this since seven.” A glance to the clock on the wall informed her that it was well past midday – at least back in Thedas. Time seemed to pass differently in the Fade. “I think we’ve earned it?”
Taking a sip and grimacing at the unpleasant chill, he smoothed down his moustache as he returned the cup to its saucer, eyes scouring the table for a specific scrap of parchment. “Mmm, I don’t know… We’ve barely touched on the spirits’ increasingly volatile behaviors.”
As much as Kat loved him, the necromancer had a self-destructive habit of eschewing basic care like food or rest when he was focused on a project, something she’d been gently trying to help him break over the years.
A devilish thought popped into Katareth’s head. Oh. That might work…
Mulling it over as her partner found the paper he’d been searching for and read it for what must’ve been the fifteenth time that morning, she rose to put her idea into action.
“Then let me convince you.” Kat stepped around the table, stopping at Emmrich’s knees before crawling onto his lap, straddling his thighs, and perching her hands on the back of the loveseat behind him, effectively trapping the human under her. With his view of their workspace now obstructed, Emmrich had no choice but to look up, meeting her salacious gaze.
He gave a surprised little “Oh!” when she seated herself, followed by a lower “Oh…” when he understood the explicit nature of her suggestion. A conspiratorial grin deepened the creases that framed his face.
Setting the parchment aside, he ran his hands along her thighs before untucking her shirt. Katareth jolted slightly when she felt cold fingers graze along the small of her back, circling the little dimples that sat just under her belt. The reaper crowded him further by leaning down to pepper his face with kisses. His cheeks, his jawline, his temples, everywhere except where Emmrich wanted her most.
Giving her hips a gentle grind, Kat purred into his ear when she felt his muscles tense under her and carefully-manicured nails dug into her waist, “Now, consider us in much the same position on my bed. No distractions, no clothes. Just the two of us... what do you think?”
He took a steadying breath before responding, “Truth be told, I’m finding thinking quite difficult right now.” The measured grind of her hips over his stirring member combined with the delicate licks and kisses she was placing just under his ear left his mind with little room to consider her proposal. “Though I concede that a break would be nice…”
Pulling back to meet him with a smolder, she teased, “I’m glad you could see reason.”
Kat dismounted, extending a hand to help pull him up into an embrace. She unbuttoned his waistcoat and high-collared shirt, shucking both and draping them across the back of the loveseat. He mirrored her actions, slipping the buttons of her tailored blouse through eyelets and unlacing her brassiere. The qunari took Emmrich’s hands in hers, pulling the smaller Watcher towards the doorframe of her bedroom with a wink.
The pair made it just inside the doorway when Katareth pinned the necromancer to the wall, capturing his lips in a searing kiss.
It was an absolute cacophony of sensations for Emmrich. The cool brick scratching against his back was in direct opposition to his lover’s plush, warm breasts pressing against his chest. And while they exchanged panted breaths, Katareth lifted him, guiding his legs to wrap around her waist. From his new vantage point, Emmrich could only watch as Kat leaned in to ravage the elegant column of his neck.
Taking his Adam’s apple between her teeth, sharp canines scraped across the delicate skin, leaving red streaks in their wake. Katareth reveled in the throaty moan of her name she felt rumble up through his neck, littering it with more nips and sucks.
Delicate hands came up behind her to fumble with the leather strip holding her hair in a loose bun. Untying it and discarding the leather at her feet, Emmrich ran his fingers through her snowy hair before taking a handful in a gentle fist, guiding her lips back up to his.
With their mouths occupied, Kat tightened her grip on his thighs to carry him over to her bed, setting the elder Watcher down gently on evergreen sheets before removing the rest of her clothes, prompting him to do the same.
Now fully nude, she ushered Emmrich towards the center of her bed. “Scoot back, I’ll need some room.”
When he complied, Katareth began her ascent, crawling up him like a predator on the prowl, and he was her all too willing prey. She stopped at his thighs, folding her legs under her so her pelvis rested just past his knees, gold eyes on his still semi-flaccid penis.
“S-Sorry, I- ah!” His attempted apology was cut off when she wrapped her warm hands around his cock. Kat held the pliant shaft in one hand, and eased his foreskin back with the other to thumb a shimmery bead of precum across his flushed head.
“Do I look like I mind?” She husked, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to his lips. She slowly flicked her wrist, smirking at the full body shudder that worked through him as she swallowed down his whine.
One of his hands grasped onto a grey thigh, the other cupping the back of Katareth’s head to hold her there, playing with the wispy hairs at her nape. His eyes were screwed shut, focusing on the sensation of her calloused hands gliding up and down, twisting along his cock.
The qunari adjusted her grip on his stiffening member, interlacing her fingers to rub the battle-roughened pads of her thumbs along the underside of his cock, paying special attention to the sensitive spot just under his glans.
She worked him in earnest, enthralled in feeling the way his length slowly began to swell under her thorough touch.
“Please, Katareth... I want to feel you around me,” Emmrich panted, resting his forehead against hers.
“I am around you,” She reminded him coquettishly, tightening her grip on his stiff erection to emphasize her point.
“Maker,” he gasped. “You know what I mean... Your – your core – your heat… don't make me be crass, please,” the necromancer begged, finally opening his eyes to look directly at her. He could be so sensual and articulate when he was taking the lead, but was endearingly bashful when it came to engaging in any kind of dirty talk.
Showing her lover mercy, she gave his length one last stroke before maneuvering herself to straddle his narrow pelvis. Pressing his shoulders, Kat followed his descent to drape herself over him, supporting the majority of her weight on a muscular forearm above his head.
“Ready?” Her free hand took hold of his cock, lining it up with her entrance.
“Yes, please…” Long fingers dug into the soft meat of the reaper's hips, encouraging her down.
Needing no further coaxing, Katareth eased herself down, sighing as his erection parted her glistening folds. Their collective groans of pleasure echoed off the stone walls of her bedroom when she fully sheathed him in her warmth, wiggling her hips slightly to better accommodate him.
“Kadan...” she whispered, cradling his face in a large hand and brushing her thumb along his cheek. When she gently rocked, Kat dipped her tongue between Emmrich's lips, savoring the faint flavor of tea.
Their lovemaking began tenderly, both Mourn Watchers leisurely tasting and touching each other, accented by the delicious squeeze of the qunari's velvety heat around her human lover on a lazy upstroke.
She hummed into his mouth when cool fingers ghosted along a pointed ear, running soft fingertips along the outer edge where it was most sensitive. When the necromancer pinched at the sharp tip, he wasn’t prepared for the surprised clenching of her core, meeting her hum with a gasp.
His other hand trailed up from her hips, feeling her pace pick up ever so slightly when he scratched across the well-muscled planes of her back from waist to nape. He repeated the motion several times, matching the timing of his reaper's thrusts and steadily working her up into a fervor under his ministrations.
Katareth pressed her body into him more firmly, the added stimulation of her pierced nipples dragging against his angular body drawing occasional sighs. She loved the intimacy of it all. Loved knowing the panted exhalations of her name were for her ears only, and that the thrusts and jerks Emmrich was fucking up into her greedy core were for their mutual ecstasy.
The hand that'd been stroking his face gripped at the bedsheets as her thrusts grew more vigorous, caging Emmrich under the larger Watcher. The soft tap tap tap of the headboard against the wall was easily drowned out by the pair’s blissful cries and the wet slap of Kat's hips coming down to meet Emmrich's as she picked up momentum.
Adjusting the angle of her hips, Kat wailed a stuttered ‘E-Emmrich!’ into the side of his neck when his erection stroked against a sweet spot. She lost herself to the exquisite drag of his cock within her sensitive core, her hot breaths puffing across his shoulder. The intensity of her thrusts increased still, and some barely-functioning corner of Emmrich's mind noted that the taps from before had grown to solid thumps with each snap of her hips.
“Em, I'm close – fuck, I’m so close…” she panted into his ear. Her rocking lost its rhythm, devolving into stuttered lurches as she neared her peak. The fevered pitch of her shuddered breaths rose as she nosed along his pulse point.
“So – hah – so am I,” Emmrich struggled to for coherent words, basking in the absolutely decadent grind of her plush walls around his throbbing cock. “Just a little more – just like that!” He encouraged, grabbing at her hips to help push and pull her along himself.
Grinding her clit down into his pubic bone was the last little bit of stimulation she needed, tumbling over the edge with a long, keening whine as she bit down into the taut muscle that connected his neck to shoulder, rocking her hips to draw out her euphoria.
Emmrich soon followed with a deep, guttural groan, unable to hold back when the powerful muscles of her core squeeze and pulse around his cock. Feeling the rush of his orgasm paint her inner walls, Katareth released his neck, capturing his lips in a frantic, sloppy kiss, riding him through the aftershocks.
As their ecstasy abated, Katareth’s hips eventually stilled. Catching her breath, she rolled off the human with a groan, stretching her legs and easing them to a more neutral position before turning to Emmrich. She ran her blunt nails through the grey, wiry hairs of his chest, watching it rise and fall as he, too, came down from his high.
“If this is your new method for getting me to take more breaks, I may have to start pulling all-nighters again…” he huffed breathlessly, meeting her exhausted gaze.
“Don’t you dare, Emmrich Volkarin.” She pressed a chaste kiss into his cheek, taunting, “I might not be so nice, next time…”
He brought a hand to his neck, gently prodding at the tender bruises she’d bit and sucked into him, giving her a playfully incredulous look. “Heart, if this was ‘nice’, I’m not entirely sure I’d survive ‘mean’ with my throat intact.”
“I can’t help that your neck’s just so biteable, now, can I?” The qunari defended bashfully. “Besides, you always wear those high-collared shirts, so it’s not as if anyone would see...”
Rolling to lay his head on her shoulder, Emmrich quietly laughed as he replied, “Thank the Maker for small mercies, I suppose…”
#emmrich volkarin#emmrich x qunari rook#katareth naletski#i've been fiddling with how i format fic posts#so expect me to edit this like 5 more times until i get fed up with it lol
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Turnabout Horizon- Case 4 WIP
“FURTHERMORE, PROVE THAT YOU WERE AT THE SCENE OF THE CRIME THAT DAY… WITHOUT A DOUBT!” Miles and Phoenix spoke in unison as they glared at the prosecutor in anger.
Prosecutor von Karma grimaced as he clutched his left shoulder, knowing that it was the end of the line for him. The young rookie defense attorney pointed his finger at von Karma and spoke those few words, “So, it’s over! Murderer!”
“UUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!!!!!!!” Manfred von Karma, the legendary prosecutor, let out an agonizing scream as the old wound came back to haunt him once again after all those years.
Gregory’s eyes widened as he recognized that scream. “That scream. It was the same scream that I heard that day.” He narrowed his eyes. “So... it was you.”
“Damn, you,” Manfred banged his head against the wall. “Damn you, Gregory Edgeworth! You and your sons are my curse!” He bellowed. “I should have killed you! Because of you, Gregory, my perfect record was tarnished by a mere penalty! And… and you left a scar on my shoulder that will never fade!” The prosecutor continued banging his head. “I… I’ll bury you! I’ll bury you with my bare hands! Death! Death!”
After von Karma’s dramatic outburst that caught the entire court off guard, the prosecutor, who had now fallen from grace, finally confessed to his crime.
15 years earlier, the Chief prosecutor’s office
“You disappointed me, von Karma,” The Chief Prosecutor declared as he was staring at the window of his office. “It’s unlike you to make such an error.”
Prosecutor von Karma stood there as his boss, deemed dissatisfied about the ‘incident’ that happened in the courtroom. He then winced as he frantically apologized. “Mr. Chief Prosecutor I… I’m sorry!”
“Sorry, you say?” Chief looked at his colleague with a hint of a smug grin. “Y’know, If you were sorry, then that Defense Attorney Edgeworth fellow wouldn’t be the one to catch you.” he then pulled his beard as he sniffled. “How could you do this to me?”
“I… was careless.”
Chief pulls out his goggles to dump out his so-called tears and places them back on his face to compose himself. “Y’see, I covered for you in the past, but not this time. As it appears, I can no longer trust your credibility.” He pulled out his small lighter. “It pains me that I will have to penalize you. Since you always boast about your perfect records, but I guess your record is now a tad ‘imperfection,’ y’know.”
“Did he say penalized? Over one simple mistake?” Manfred was in shock beyond words as he couldn’t believe that the Chief Prosecutor would add insult by claiming that his records were now “imperfect.” He couldn’t help but think of the one person who caused all this frustration and yelled out in anger, “Edgeworth!!!”
“Oh, come now, don’t be overly dramatic,” Chief remarked as he looked back at the window. “If we’re done here, you should leave. I have other businesses to take care of, y’know. Oh, before you go, please tell your daughter that Uncky Boo Boo won’t be coming to visit her today. Well, see ya!”
Okay, I hope I didn't butcher Manfred's characterization in the final phase of his breakdown. I added some details from the anime where Miles and Phoenix went into sync as they exposed von Karma as the true culprit and the classic von Karma's head banging on the wall breakdown from the first Ace Attorney game.
I'm going to try my very best to explain how the crime took place in the Defendant's Lobby, room No. 1. I'm not very good at the whole murder case, so I have to find some ways to make it work by doing some references.
With that out of the way, I do hope you guys enjoy it. Let me know if there's anything that should be fixed later on in the future. After all, it's just a rough draft for case 4.
#ace attorney#gregory edgeworth#manfred von karma#turnabout horizon#writing wip#ace attorney fic#case 4 turnabout heartfelt farewell#miles edgeworth#phoenix wright#ace attorney au#hmmm the chief prosecutor sounded very foreboding
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The Jackal
Whooaaaaa we're almost caught up I swearrrr WHOOAAA living on a prayerrr (Fic number 8 and it is currently the 9TH!) @narcosfandomdiscord
Enjoy <3
Prompt #11, Book Of Pit Stops: Rush
Word Count: 1.1K
Relationships: Charles "The Jackal"/Nuria
Warnings: SPOILERS! Spoilers galore!! Episodes 1-5 of this show have been watched by me, and thus, a patchwork of spoilers throughout this rambly fic! Beware if you're a spoilerphobe!
~ Read the fic under the cut ~
The Jackal lives in secret. He hides from everyone and everything.
He dons disguises and becomes people who he’s not meant to be, for example, a certain Herr Thirsk, who, to The Jackal’s knowledge, may or may not be real.
Passports are essential if he’s globetrotting. No one bats an eye at the switches, at the effortlessness of it all. If it says he hails from Germany, that’s where he’s from. Then France? He’ll be a Frenchman for a day, who cares?!
The information is proper, organised, and it looks legitimate. That’s all that counts in The Jackal’s line of work: Efficiency, quality, and legitimacy.
After all, someone is set on hiring him, paying him grand amounts of money to make as many kills as possible. A hitman does what he needs to do, whatever it takes to target the best of the best.
He uses bespoke weaponry and state-of-the-art prosthetics. His materials, his safes, all of it, are top-notch. There’s nowhere in the business that he can fail, except for his own human error.
He trusts his gunmaker to the ends of the earth, he trusts his aim to make the kills, and he trusts others to give him whatever he requires.
Because, as he tells Nuria one sunny day in Cadiz, it’ll hurt the brand if people don’t pay him what he needs. It’s not all about the money, though, and even worse if people don’t follow his orders.
If he sets instructions, they’ll be met. If someone fumbles, then they’re out of the game.
The Jackal avoids taking unnecessary phone calls and explicitly warns his loveable Spanish relatives not to post whatever photos they take of him. As beautiful as celebrations and warmth and memories may be, he simply can’t risk being exposed.
***
After the ordeal with Manfred Fest, a very classy and striking ordeal if he does say so himself, he’s attracted attention. Or, at least, a ‘killer’ has done so. A killer could be anyone, but only someone of his expertise could make the shot from 3815 metres away.
He travels in taxis from one place to the next, keeping his language fluency intact with every country he visits. He passes Nuria after she’s dropped him off at the airport, but is his cover blown?
If he’s not answering his phone, then it won’t be.
Besides, he has a tingling, almost unwelcome feeling that his wife will find out. And, if she does? If the other Charles, Jackal’s in-law, helps her, then he’ll know.
He doesn’t have a safe without passwords, a lock without a key, or a room full of secrets without protection.
A camera inside a prosthetic face. A marvellous touch. As his wife snoops around, horrified by what she’s seeing, he’s seeing her right back.
It’s harmful to the relationship, detrimental, in fact, but he’ll just class it all as ‘industrial espionage’. You know how it goes, Nuria, a bit of spying, a bit of illegal activity, and…
A lot of murder, but The Jackal doesn’t reveal that much.
***
It’s so satisfying to see people at his mercy, to watch their trembling hands as they kneel before him. Whatever string of ‘oh, god, spare me, please, no!’ that escapes people’s mouths never deters him. Unless there’s something more to offer, The Jackal will do away with them.
Man, woman, guilty, innocent… Doesn’t exactly matter. If they’ve misunderstood their obligations to him, then, their time is up.
***
The Jackal bites back a laugh as he gets wind of recent news: A girl, one named Emma, dies in custody. The police are legally responsible. Whoever sent her into custody is feeling guilty for the rest of their lives.
Isn’t it perfect, for the authorities to be in the wrong? In their attempts to catch a criminal, a killer, a hitman, they misstep.
Well, they don’t just misstep. They’ve killed a daughter. They’ve ruined a mother, a father, a family. All of the girl’s friends will be devastated, all the good she hoped to achieve in life has been thrown into the gutter.
He stares at the article for a while, never once losing his focus. He laughs, and laughs, and laughs.
When Nuria catches him in the act, swiftly barging into his study, he hums and settles. The rush almost becomes too much, but he closes his laptop.
Her gaze implores him to talk, so he does.
Still, he demurs and deflects, “No, no, it’s nothing, really,” A certain twinkle in his eye reveals everything to her, “Well, if you must know, my work has just become very interesting. ”
“You’re in that place again!” She hisses, but he remains unfazed, “You’re always there, and never here… Come on , Charles. Come back to me.”
He leans back in his chair and shrugs, “I’m here, darling. I’m here. ”
“You don’t get it,” She shakes her head, “Because, sometimes, I look at you, and I just see–”
“What?” He intervenes with a lazy smile. A gentle tilt of his head. Charm, suaveness, everything in between, “Tell me. What do you see?”
With a sigh, she decides she can’t help herself, walking over to him and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. She holds onto him, lets her smaller body sink into his lap.
“I’ll tell you what I see,” She whispers, “I see a motherfucker. ”
“Oh, fuck you!” He replies, equally as quiet, and their lips meet not long after.
It’s just one of the many games they play. Teasing, banter, time alone, they cherish it. Nuria can tell when he’s drifting away, off with the fairies of business and stocks and, well, whatever he actually does.
So, it’s her job to bring him back to reality, to remind him of the people he has: It’s her and her love, it’s little Carlito, turning two years old tomorrow.
He goes for long periods of time, doesn’t come back for a few days, then a week, then two. He tells her, over and over, the same sentiments: People are too inconsiderate, they have no empathy, he’ll be back as soon as his shifts are over.
Whatever he does, the majority of it is out of her control.
She can only hold onto him when he’s physically here, when Charles is in her reach.
Otherwise, she is full of doubt, confusion, and emotions that extend beyond herself. Her family can only calm her so much.
She needs Charles, the lover, the husband, the family man… Not Charles, the sketchy, flighty businessman.
Not Charles the hitman, Charles the plotter, Charles the ruthless manipulator and assassin.
‘Industrial espionage’ is all it is. And hopefully, that’s all she’ll ever know.
#the day of the jackal#the day of the jackal 2024#tv shows#fanfic#narcovember#narcovember 2024#ava writes#my first work in this fandom
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🎃SpookTober 31 Days Prompts🎃
Day 19: Cauldron🫕
Manfred Von Richtofen x GN!Reader. Witchy vibes. AU: WW1. Spooky moments. Fluff. Brewing up a storm. Reader takes care of Manfred. SpookTober: Cauldron🫕
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☆●~Bubble & Trouble~●☆
When Manfred suffers a head injury, a mysterious figure swoops in and whisks him away to their shelter in the forest. Manfred awakes in an unknown place with a bubbling cauldron.
Manfred cursed himself. His own foolish is what landed him with this head injury and he could blame no one but himself. Bolecke warned him but did he listen? No.
"Damn fool that I am! Why didn't I listen to Bolecke's advice? Now I'm stuck grounded in this hospital with a head injury which by the looks of it isn't healing as well as it should!" Thought Manfred bitterly as he lay in the hospital bed, his head wrapped up in bandages and his face twisted into a scowl.
"If only there was some way I could heal up a little faster. I just want to leave this damned hospital and get back to flying with my squadron. I miss flying and miss my friends" Thought Manfred with a sad sigh as he closed his eyes, hoping to fall asleep.
"If you seek my help, feared Red Baron that roams the skies, you may only ask for me"
Manfred's eyes shot open. Did he hear that right? Was someone speaking to him? He lifted his head up and looked around. All the other patients were asleep, the hospital was silent.
Manfred lay his head down. Must have been his imagination after all.
"I can heal you, dear Baron. I will heal you. Just call out for me and I shall come to your aid"
The voice came again. Manfred looked around but again the hospital was silent. Feeling uneasy, Manfred shivered.
"Be not afraid Baron. I only wish to help you. You have nothing to fear for I have no intentions of harming you"
The voice spoke again, softly. Manfred relaxed a little.
"Can you help me?" Asked Manfred in a whisper.
"I can dear Baron" Answered the voice.
"Would you be able to help heal my head injury? So that I can fly again?" Asked Manfred, hope in his voice.
"I will heal you Baron. Just say that you accept my help and I will tend to thee" Replied the voice.
Manfred without hesitation, smiled.
"I accept your help" Agreed Manfred.
Suddenly, everything went black.
Manfred awoke in a strange place, a cottage of sorts. The floor was covered in dirt except for the many furs that Manfred was wrapped in. A huge fire burned in a stone hearth along with a bubbling cauldron. The ceiling had various dried herbs and flowers hanging from the wooden beams, such as lavender and rosemary. There was various furniture such as a large wooden table and chairs too.
"Wolves asleep amidst the trees
Bats all a-swaying in the breeze
But one soul lies anxious wide awake
Fearing all manner of ghouls, hags and wraiths"
Manfred froze as he heard the strange singing coming from somewhere deep within the cottage. Manfred felt a chill wash over him as the singing got louder, getting closer to where Manfred lay.
"For your dolly Polly, sleep has flown
Don't dare let her tremble alone
For the Witcher, heartless, cold
Paid in coin of gold
He comes, he goes
Leaves naught behind
But heartache and woe"
A figure entered the room. They were dressed in clothes of cottage attire with a shawl of sewn together bits of mismatched cloths. They stood in the room and smiled upon seeing Manfred as they finished the song they were singing.
"Deep, deep woe" They Sang softly and made their way towards Manfred who looked on with wide eyes, fearful of what this person was going to do to them.
"Be not afraid Manfred. I am Y/N, a healer from the forest. I have brought you to my humble abode in order to heal your head injury, so that you may fly again once more" Explained Y/N who set about tending to the bubbling cauldron in the hearth.
"Forgive me, I'm not usually this anxious. Perhaps I'm used to seeing witches at work" Remarked Manfred and froze upon seeing Y/N turn to him at the mention of "witches".
Y/N raised an eyebrow at Manfred who gulped nervously, fearing they were offended by being called a "witch".
"A witch? You think me wicked?" Asked Y/N.
"Oh...no no! Forgive me I didn't mean to say.....I mean no! No you're not a witch of course not! I didn't mean to offend you......I...I" Stammered Manfred nervously but stopped upon seeing Y/N laughing.
"Be calm sir! I know you meant no offence, do not worry!" You Laughed and returned to tending the cauldron, still chuckling away. Manfred relaxed a little. Perhaps he wasn't in danger.
Y/N made her way around the makeshift kitchen and procured various ingredients and such.
"May I ask, what are you doing with that cauldron?" Asked Manfred curiously. You turned to Manfred and smiled.
"I am making a special brew for you to help with your injury" You Answered softly and after procuring the ingredients needed, you set about to work.
You chopped up two different mushrooms and placed them in the cauldron, along with a dash of rosemary. Next you pulled out some lavender, crushing it with a pestel in a mortar along with some poppy seeds and crushed sunflower seeds. Next you poured the blood of a weasel into the mortar, mixing well until you poured the contents into the cauldron, a hiss came from the liquid followed by rapid bubbles popping away. You returned to the table where a dead crow lay lifeless. You took a sharp knife and cut off one of it's legs.
Manfred grimaced as you bought the crow's leg towards the cauldron and popped it in, the cauldron hissing before the bubbles calmed and it was only just quietly bubbling away.
"I am not drinking that" Remarked Manfred casually. You turned to Manfred, frowning at the pilot's remark.
"You must if you wish to heal that injury" You Retorted, crossing your arms.
"What?! Isn't there another way?" Asked Manfred, disgusted by the thought of drinking a brew made of blood and crow legs.
"No. This is the very best to help with your injury" You Stated. Manfred let out a huff. You scoffed at him. Honestly, he was getting hyped up over nothing.
When you deemed the brew ready, you grabbed a large ladle and wooden bowl. You scooped up a large helping of the brew in the ladle and poured the contents into the wooden bowl before making your way to Manfred.
"Drink it all up and then you rest" You Said.
Manfred eyed the brew nervously.
"What will happen when i drink it?" Asked Manfred nervously.
"When you drink it, you will feel tired and go into a deep sleep. When you awake, your injury will be healed and then you will fly again" You Explained softly.
"Okay, as long as it does what you say it does" Agreed Manfred. You nodded, smiling softly.
"It will. I promise" You Answered.
Manfred grabbed the bowl and took a cautious sip. It actually tasted good and so Manfred drank up the soup like brew happily, down to the very last drop.
Manfred soon felt heavy and went back to lie down. His eyes grew heavy as you pulled a fur up to him, keeping him warm as you sang softly to him.
"Wolves asleep amidst the trees
Bats all a-swaying in the breeze
But one soul lies anxious wide awake
Fearing all manner of ghouls, hags and wraiths
For your dolly Polly, sleep has flown
Don't dare let her tremble alone
For the Witcher, heartless, cold
Paid in coin of gold
He comes, he goes
Leaves naught behind
But heartache and woe
Deep, deep woe"
When Manfred fell into a deep sleep, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before you leaned towards his ear.
"Goodnight my dear Baron" You Whispered softly.
Manfred slowly awoke again. He was in the hospital.
"What....how did I?" Thought Manfred confused, looking around frantically. He was back in the hospital, not in the strange cottage with that healer.
"Ah Manfred you are awake!" Came a voice. Manfred turned to see a doctor coming towards him, smiling.
"Doctor?" Manfred Said confused.
"Yes that's me. We have good news Manfred. We have checked you over and it seems you are in a stable and good condition. It seems you miraculously recovered overnight!" Explained the doctor smiling.
"Recovered? Wait...does that mean?" Asked Manfred.
"Yes! You should be able to return to flying tomorrow! Once you are up and ready, come with me and we can officially discharge you" Said the doctor happily.
Manfred was happy. He was going to fly again.
"But what about the healer?" Asked Manfred curiously. The doctor turned to Manfred, looking confused.
"The what?" Asked the doctor curiously.
Manfred stopped and thought carefully.
"Nothing doctor" Replied Manfred and the doctor smiled. That day, Manfred was discharged from hospital.
That night as he lay back in his bed, he thought back to the encounter with the healer. As he thought about the healer, he could hear the faint and soft singing of your voice, through the trees and across the moon lit sky as the wind carried your voice, lulling him to sleep.
"Birds are silent for the night
Cows turned in as daylight dies
But one soul lies anxious wide awake
Fearing all manner of ghouls, hags and wraiths
My dear dolly Polly shut your eyes
Lie still, lie silent, utter no cries
As the Witcher, brave and bold"
Manfred closed his eyes, listening as you sang the final verses of the song.
"He'll chop and slice you
Cut and dice you
Eat you up whole"
Manfred fell into a deep sleep. You leaned in close and whispered the last verse softly.
"Eat you up whole"
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#manfred von richthofen#the red baron#marc warren#young indiana jones#attack of the hawkmen#spooktober#Spooktober 31 days prompts#spooktober 31 days#october#october prompts#31 days of halloween#writing prompts#writing prompt#prompt 19 cauldron
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Chapter 9 is done! Not gonna post the whole thing here, it's on Ao3 if anyone wants it, but here's the best part
My gaze fell to the ground along with some unnameable feeling in the pit of my stomach. Somehow, I hadn't been able to explain myself. He still didn't understand. My words, or my mind, weren't enough to express what I wanted to, and that was all it took to break the dam blocking off my swelling emotions, after I'd brushed aside every little crack that tried to warn me. I felt my body start to move against my will, my lips trembling and my eyes tearing up. The opportunity to talk my way through my experience was pulled from me as I sniffled loudly - no longer the functioning adult I'd worked so hard to put together, but the pathetic child that I feared would be seen.
I felt an arm wrap around me, heard something hit the pavement, and another arm pulled me close. Not an hour ago, in nearly the same position, I was incapable of speech. After a date full of overwhelming emotions, I could only sob.
“It's alright,” Manfred said softly. “It's alright.”
He held me tight, rocking gently, shushing me, and whispering comfort. I could understand his words, up to a point, and when his voice changed to a sing-song cadence, I realized he'd stopped speaking English. Still my tears flowed, and my breath hitched in my throat as I tried in vain to control myself, weeping and sniffling beneath the words of a German lullaby.
My tears eventually had to run out, though it felt like they'd keep going forever. And whatever dripped from my nose eventually stopped coming out as well, but it seemed my body might actually have a limitless supply of that. It covered my nostrils, then lips, then chin, and I didn't want to look at where it fell next. On any other day, getting snot on Manfred's clothing would've been the worst of my worries. But I had far bigger problems to take on.
I sat up straight, pulling away but still staring down at the ground. I saw a handkerchief enter the corner of my vision, and took it. An attempt was made to clean up my face, though I knew from experience that just wiping my nose did very little. I'd seen this same face in mirrors before, at school, at home, at my old job. The bloodshot eyes, the red, swollen skin - it was a face I wished for nobody to witness, not even me, and especially not others.
“I'm…sorry,” I whispered. My voice came out thin and trembling, and far less confident than I'd hoped. It was almost enough to make me start crying again.
“There's no need to apologize.” Manfred lay his hand over mine, squeezing gently as I held onto his snot-filled handkerchief. “There never was.”
“I-it's just-” I sniffled, “a lot. Everything is.”
“Hmm?”
“When…whenever I touch you, it's- it makes me feel a lot of…stuff. And when we talk, and when I look at you, and everything- and it's just,” I wiped at my eyes, “...too much, sometimes.”
“You’re overwhelmed. Overstimulated.”
“Uh-huh,” I nodded.
“Is there anything you need? If there's any way I can help, I will.”
“I just need…time, I think.” I slumped against Manfred's shoulder and closed my eyes, finally capable of taking a deep breath.
I focused on the sounds around me. The birds chirping in the trees and the wind whistling through the branches calmed me, while the sound of nearby human activity made me worry about just how many people may have passed by in the middle of my meltdown. And it still wasn't over, not quite. I could feel myself cooling off, but I wouldn't be back to normal until I got to my apartment, turned off all the lights, and took a long nap. Even then, ‘normal’ would still be painfully relative - my normal, but not the normal. Such a quality was out of my reach.
“I'm glad you told me,” Manfred said quietly, “even if you may not feel the same way. I realize it must've taken a good deal of courage.”
I nodded wordlessly into his shoulder.
“And it reminds me how I should treat you.”
My heart sank. This was the beginning - the pity, the babying, the ‘you poor thing’ looks that I'd dreaded.
“With politesse, and chivalry, as a gentleman ought to. Taking things slowly, and always requesting permission rather than assuming. And no more messing around trying to fluster you, as amusing as it may be.”
I felt him squeeze my hand again, and sighed with relief. “Thank you…Manfred.”
“Of course, Miss Martin.”
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Mr and Mrs Liars Chapter 28
Chapter 27 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- *MC POV* I feel like I can breathe better, although my chest still hurts from breathing in so much smoke. Phil, Jessy, Dan and Cleo join me in the room. From what I know, Jake's old team called Phil and he told the group so I wouldn't feel alone. He left me with them while he went to talk to the doctor about my situation. Luckily I had no serious injuries, I just needed to recover and clear the air from my lungs. “You're going to beat my hospital record.” Dan laughs, trying to cheer me up. "Don't make me laugh, my chest still hurts." I avoid laughing, but little laughs escape me. “Ugh… I have a headache from all the stress…” "Do you want me to call the doctor to see if he can give you something?" Cleo asks me, worried. "No, I'm fine." I keep my head from bobbing around the tubes too much when I look at Jessy. "Do you know how Jake and Charlotte are doing?" "From what I know, the police were watching Charlotte's room, as was Mr. Schneider," she replies a little sadly “she's still in a coma and Jake…" "Jake what, Jessy? Please tell me he's okay!" I start to get nervous at the thought that he died, I don't know how serious the shot he received was. "Luckily the gunshot wound wasn't serious, so he only has stitches" Jessy gives me a small, friendly smile ", he's also on oxygen, but he'll recover. Right now he was with his family and with Thomas. " "Thank God…" I put a hand to my head, trying to relax. I'm relieved he’s not alone. So his family… That means his father is in the hospital. I'm sure he has a lot of questions about what happened. "I never should have brought him into this... " “He decided to jump in, boo” Dan carefully pats my shoulder “and let's face it, that guy's got some shit on for a cop. "A cop who's a criminal." Cleo corrects him. "And with years of experience, he could have killed him." "Luckily it didn't," Jessy sighs. "I still can't believe that all of this happened to Aleena… It's so sad…" "But don't forget that she was going to kill MC." Dan crosses his arms, annoyed. "One thing is her to take down on those two cops, but MC didn't do anything to deserve it." "Yes, that's right." Jessy looks at me sympathetically. "I'm sorry MC, I guess, I can't help but think that those two men did terrible things to her, I still don't know why to take revenge on your father through you." "Because it's not okay," I answered, being a bit harsh, "I can understand that, but I was never a threat to her." "Well, the police will take care of her anyway." Cleo sits down on the couch, and the rest of her follow suit. Looks like they're going to stay a while longer to keep me company. That relieves me, I don't feel like being alone. "She will surely accept all the blame, the problem is Manfred, he will want to deny everything saying that it is manipulation." "But Jake isn't going to let him," I squeeze the covers tightly "he has all the evidence and I can finally talk about everything we investigated. We won't let anyone get away with it." At least I’m thankful that this is over. I can forget about this case forever. <<We did it dad, I hope you feel proud of me. >> My phone rings and Jessy hands it to me. I'm surprised to see the name.I take a breath, a little nervous. He must have found out on the news. I must have worried him, perhaps. "Long time no talk to you." I answer the call with a small smile, a little awkward. *Jake POV* I woken up in the hospital room, with Hannah, Thomas, Nathan, and his wife. Never before have I seen so many people occupying the same space for me, to know if I'm okay. "And MC?" It's the first thing I ask when I wake up, worried about her. "Where is she? Is she okay?" I get up so fast I get dizzy. "Calm down, Jake," Nathan stops me, careful not to hurt me "your friend is fine, you've done a great job helping her, I'm proud of you." A strange feeling runs through my body hearing those words. I want to hide my happiness that this man, who is my father, is proud of me. But I smile hearing that MC is fine. I can't help but do it. I dropped my head back on the pillow, relieved. “So…” Thomas begins to speak, “you've confronted a policeman.” “Old ways never go away.” I commented, forgetting that Hannah and Lilly's parents are in the room. " 'The old ways'?" Mrs. Donfort asks curiously. I don't blame her. “Mom, Dad, we'll tell you about it another time,” Hannah says, brushing my hair back lovingly, like a mother “we better let him rest for now.” The door opens and Lilly walks in, her eyes worried. “There's a woman here asking about Jake,” she says nervously. ”Oh, he's already awake.” "A woman?" I ask curiously. "Are you ever going to be still, Jake?" Mathilde walks into the room, arms folded. She has invited herself in, furious footsteps. I don't think a scolding from my boss now is the best time. "And you are?" Mr. Donfort looks at her somewhat confused. “I'm this man's boss,” she waves at me furiously, “and you could say a mother figure.” "Don't make me laugh," I replied, with a laugh. What I had to hear as soon as I woke up from almost suffocating to death. Mathilde surprises me by hugging me. I don't think she's ever hugged someone so hard before. She quickly pulls away, pulling herself together. "Good," she coughs as she straightens her jacket and hair. "First of all, what you have been doing has been without permission, you cannot carry out investigations illegally." "But I'd do it again for her." I replied, giving her a hard look. "I know, and that's what bothers me the most." They all look at Mathilde, quite concerned.Well, my job at the CIA is over, they will surely hand me over to the police or worse: to the FBI. I'm sure they're rubbing their hands that I finally let them stop me. “And second of all,” she sighs heavily, though pride is evident in her voice “I've assigned you to a research investigations. It's better than security. " "What?" confused blink, I am sure the oxygen tank isn't working right? "What you have done has been illegal, yes" she joins her hands placing them in front of her, she looks like a teacher scolding a student now ", but, you have managed to catch an abusive policeman and a murderous politician thanks to your investigations, I would be stupid if I didn't give you a position in which you collaborate with our best agents." Everyone starts congratulating me. I don't feel honored in this position, it's all been thanks to MC, she's the one who deserves all the credit, I've only helped her. "I don't think that-" "Jake Miller," Mathilde cuts me off "if you're going to name that girl, please leave it." I'm surprised that she guessed what I was thinking. "I know you well. But she doesn't work with us, I can't give her that position. " "Yes, I can't deny that..." "So…" she looks at everyone present and offers her hand "Have a nice day everyone." “Yeah, sure,” Nathan is the first to accept her hand “and thank you so much for taking care of my son all these years." Mathilde looks at me and smiles. “He may be a little rebellious about doing things his way,” she says with a sigh “but he's always done it for the good of the people." Mathilde's words make me feel important. I can't wait to tell MC about it. I can’t wait to see her. When I am finally alone, I ask someone from nursing if I can get up to go see MC. After checking my vital signs, they decide that I can get up without any problem, but that I should come back as soon as possible if I feel dizzy, since I could still be affected by the smoke. I arrive at MC's door just at the same time as Phil. His look says it all, it's like the first meeting. "Hey..." he nods in greeting "how are you?" "Better," I answer and looked at the door "I was going to talk to MC-" "No," I look at him when I hear that not so fast "I'm not going to let you see her." "I think you shouldn't decide for her, don't you?" He chuckles, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Look, I don't want to fight with you right now," he answers, while he crosses his arms. "MC wouldn't be like this if you hadn't brought her into this." "I just helped her." "Yes, and look where she is now," he points to the room, furious, "whenever it's about you, she ends up in a dangerous situation: accusation of kidnapping, threats, that your own persecutors try to hack her, that a kidnapper wanted to lure her to possible death. Ever since you brought her into your life, she's had nothing but problems." "Well, it's thanks to me that you've met her." I assert myself, clenching my fists tightly. "And I appreciate it, but look at the one your crazy girlfriend has messed up." He places a finger on my chest, beginning to pinching me. "I want you to get away from her, to stop putting her in danger, because then, I don't think I'll be able to control myself and it might be more than a punch that I throws at you. " "Are you threatening me?" "It's not a threat, it's a warning." He places his hand on the doorknob, his eyes glare at me. "I don't want the next time she's with you to be killed for real." He enters the room and I stay in the corridor thinking about his words. Maybe... Maybe he's right and I'm the cause of him always being in danger. Maybe it's because I'm used to living that way. She does not. MC is not someone who should be put into these risks, I should have been more careful with her so that nothing bad happened to her. I was hoping to get back together with her, but if something dangerous is always going to happen every time we're together, then I'll take this bad luck away from her. She deserves to have a normal life. *MC POV* Every time I look in the mirror, I remember all the things that have happened. This past month has been such a roller coaster of emotions that I absolutely can't shake myself off. I no longer feel that my home is my home. It's like I feel empty.Phil takes good care of me, I can't deny that, he cares about me after I get out of the hospital much more than when I got shot. The situation this time worried him more than before and I cannot deny that. I've been trying to contact Jake, but he's not responding to my messages. I send him the last message and what I see on the screen surprises me. He has blocked me, why has he done it? What has happened? I thought that we were fine after what happened in that building, that we had to talk. I can't hear my friends conversation, I'm just lost in my thoughts. I miss Jake and haven't told Phil the truth yet, because I wanted to make sure Jake and I could talk about it together first. "MC?" Hearing Hannah's voice, I wake up from my thoughts "are you okay? " "Yes, I'm fine" I smile, trying to calm the atmosphere ", sorry, with everything that's happened I'm a little distracted. " "Are you sure that's it?" Thomas asks me now "I don't know, we've all noticed that you're not well." "If you need to talk about it, you know you can." Cleo tells me now, putting a hand on my shoulder. "We're with you if you need it." Lilly smiles at me, taking my hands. It's still amazing how she's changed everything between us, she's truly like a little sister to me. The one who is quiet is Jessy, who seems to be in the same state as me. She seems to want to say something, though she shuts up. I wish she did, I'm sure she knows something. I've seen this attitude before. "Thank you all, but I'm fine," I answered, taking a sip of my coffee "I just have to go back to my normal life after being interrogated day and night." I give them a tired sigh. I haven't even been able to work because of that, but more than one already wants to interview me to get information. On the way home, I get a call from Dan. "Yes, Jack Daniels?" I greeted him with a smile. A pity he couldn't come with us because of work. "Hey little detective," he greets me affectionately "I hope you're not busy, but talking to Jessy on the phone now, she wants the three of us to meet up." "The three of us? Something has happened?" "You want the bad news over the phone?" "To be honest, no, that never works out." I hear Dan's laugh. Surely he has remembered the past. "Then we'll meet at Jessy's house and… Don't be mad at her, it's my fault too." "Are you going to tell me that you two are dating?" "I wish," he makes an exaggerated snort. "See you there. Bye." "See you later, Dan." I don't know why, but it gives me a very strange feeling... Jessy's house was always a cozy house. I had slept a few nights there before I started dating Phil, it was so much better than staying in a motel with so many memories. Jessy and Dan are sitting across from me. I'm just trying to figure out what they're hiding by looking at them. I quit right away because I'm too tired to do it, I deserve a break. "Well, what's going on?" I ask with a laugh "Are you sure it's not that you've started dating?" Jessy and Dan look at each other, but from their looks it seems something more serious. “It's about a conversation we overheard at the hospital, when we went to get coffee,” Dan begins, as if not to make it more difficult for Jessy "It's about Jake and Phil." When I hear Jake's name, my alarm goes off. I worry that they have quarreled again. "When we got back, we eavesdropped on the conversation," Jessy answers, with a sad voice, "I know it's wrong, but..." “It's okay, Jessy,” I reply, my voice calm “you can tell me." Jessy takes a breath, and tries to calm down. “We heard Phil tell him to stay away from you." "What?" “Apparently our bar owner thinks everything that happened is Jake's fault,” Dan continues. "He has forbidden him to see you, which implies that they are not friends at all. Zero contact. Negative." "Yes, Dan, she's got it perfectly." Jessy looks at him somewhat annoyed with her words, but he doesn't offend me. "I didn't think Phil would be one of those, I mean, he's not jealous, we've all seen that, but he even threatened to beat him up. " “Not in those exact words, but almost.” Dan corrects. "MC, these days you've been very strange and... Now I understand" my friend looks at me almost about to cry. The one who should cry is me, not her "I'm sorry I pushed you so much with Phil and your wedding, when in reality I've seen that you're not the same if you're not with Jake. I miss my happy friend, the one who always smiled because she knew she was complete with him." "Oh Jessy…" I start to cry and hug her. Her words encourage me a lot. She was always saying that when I married Phil, we'd be like sisters, but actually I don't have to marry her brother to be sister. "I love you so much sister," I say with a smile "thank you so much for telling me." "Oh, what the hell?" Dan says before giving us a big hug. We laugh at the situation and we both give Dan a kiss on the cheeks. Our great protector. When we part ways, I manage to calm down a bit. "Time to talk to Phil," I replied, looking at my ring. "I can't keep fooling myself like this." "You can stay here to sleep later," Jessy proposes "at least while you move, I doubt you'll stay living in that house." “And if you need help with the boxes, let me know.” Dan makes a forceful gesture and I laugh. "Sure, thanks guys." I say goodbye to both of them and leave the house, straight to Bar Aurora. It's time to end this. When I walk in, I find Phil clearing the tables. Seeing me, he smiles. "Hello Princess." he puts down the cloth and approaches me to kiss me. I turn my face away and see how he is surprised. I look at him quite annoyed. "What happen? Is everything alright? I swallow, trying to control myself. I don't want to have to yell at him. "Did you tell Jake to stay away from me?" "Come on MC, what are you asking-" "Did you tell him or not?" Phil lets out a big sigh, putting his arms on his hips.He doesn't dare look at me because he knows I would guess. "You had no right to tell him that." "Because of him you are always suffering" he counterattacks me "Look what has happened to you! Whenever he's around, bad things happen to you." "My God, is that your excuse?" I reproach him, trying to make him look at me "Is Jake a guy who can put me in danger?" "It's been like that since he came into your life." "And what if that's it?!" I can't control myself, I need to scream "You can't decide for us if we see each other or not! You know perfectly well that you have no right to do so!" "I have the right to do it because I'm your fiance!" I stare at him, surprised. It was like feeling in a little box at that moment. And I wasn't going to let that happen. "MC, I'm sorry." He grabs my hands realizing his mistake, but I push them away. "I did not mean that." "But you said it." I bite the inside of my cheek, controlling myself. "You have never been jealous with anyone. Never." I shake my head, confused. "Jake arrives and everything seems to be wrong." "Because everything would go wrong with him." He places his hands on my cheeks, caressing them. "MC, you have already seen that with me you can have a normal life, friends, family… You would be safe, you wouldn’t have to be in danger all the time." I keep looking at him. Yes, it is true that several things happen around Jake, it is always like that... "I know..." I answer with a little sadness "You're right... With Jake things are always difficult..." I look down, somewhat disappointed. "Then let's not fight, okay?" He smiles sweetly at me, making me look at his face. "What do you say we have dinner at the Black Swan to fix it?" We deserve a good time alone." I look at his eyes and then at the ring. I start thinking about his words. This is the moment of decision. And I already have it very clear. *Jake POV* It had been a stressful month. I had to declare everything that had happened, along with the support of Mathilde and Malcolm, doing everything possible to avoid being arrested for getting into a computer belonging to a police chief who, no matter how much he committed a crime, I too had committed another: I did not have judicial permission to do so. Luckily, my new position had saved me and Mathilde had lied to say that it was something ordered by the CIA. I already owe too much to that woman. I haven't been to Duskwood for a month either, letting my family come into town to see me. They found out about everything and well… At first it was a bit tense, but when they found out that I was the one who put all those criminals in jail, the tension lessened a bit. Although I have promised not to do it illegally again this time. I have also decided to lose all contact with MC. And this time forever. I watch the sunset on the roof. I can't be on that apartment so quiet. It's too much for just one. At first I thought it would be perfect for MC and me. Now I just want to move from here to a smaller one. That way I wouldn't lose Gizmo everywhere.I take MC's mother's wedding ring out of my pants pocket. I was never able to gove it back. I'll have to give it to my sisters so they can give her back too. I hear Gizmo meow desperately. I have brought him up with me so that he can get some fresh air. "What's up boy?" I ask, turning to him. When I turn around, I see MC in front of me. She raises a hand in greeting, shyly. "I think I'm the cause," she answers, with a small voice. "Hello." I pocket the ring, nervous. "Hello," I replied, scratching the back of my neck. "A lot of time has passed…" "Yeah..." She doesn't come closer, she keeps her distance. This is getting a bit awkward. "I had gone to your apartment, but you didn't answer," she says, pointing to the door to the roof. "So I figured you'd be here." "I could have gone." "Yes, I know." She gets a little closer.I look at her from top to bottom. It seems different.That's when I see that she doesn't have the engagement ring. "Everything okay with Phil?" I ask curious. "You mean the ring?" She asks me now, looking at her hand "He… We've broke up… Well, I've broke up with him." "And what are you doing here?" "I was going to go to Lian's and her husband's house so they would let me live with them for a while until I found an apartment." "Aren't you staying in Duskwood?" "No, I think I'll avoid it for a while." She comes up next to me, leaning against the ledge. "Too much tension." "I see." We stayed in silence looking at the city. The lights begin to set and the sky to darken. I dedicate myself to observe her side face. Her smile doesn't fade. I reached into my pocket, pulling out her mother's ring. I look at it for a few seconds before handing it to her. "Here," MC looks at me and then at the ring, picking it up carefully. "I picked it up when we went to the warehouse.” "Thank you," she looks at it, turning it over, and puts it on, looking at her hand to see how it fits her "you know? Canceling a wedding costs the same as making one.” She lets out a long breath, ending up resting her head on my shoulder. "My advice is never get married." "Or maybe not getting to marry the wrong person. Oh!" She pinches my arm and I laugh at her. "You know I'm right.” "Maybe yes…" Finally the silence stops being uncomfortable. The heat that MC emanates begins to cover my entire body. It's nice to have her here with me. I didn't expect to see her again. "Why don't you spend the night here?" I suggest and she looks at me "You still have your room and… I haven't moved the clothes from the closet, tomorrow you can go to your friend's house." "Yeah, okay, I can stay tonight." "Great..." <<Come on Jake… Tell her. >> "MC-" "Jake-" We remain silent, looking at each other.I took the hand where the ring was and traced the route with my finger. It fits her perfectly, almost like it was made for her too. "I don't just want you to stay tonight," I finally dare to say it, looking into her eyes. The city lights are reflected in them "I want you to stay forever." "Jake-" "MC, I love you" I caress her cheek and she leans on my hand, tilting her head, smiling "and the thought that I could lose you that night made my life stop. I don't want to know what life is like without you, it's not in my plans." "And what are your plans?" "Continue where we left off." "Mmm... No." I look at her surprised at my refusal and she laughs. "We don't have to continue something that was never left." "I think that it was left and a lot." "No-" "You were going to get married" "Well, it's a little pause-" "A big one-" "Just kiss me." I accept her request and kiss her. MC puts her arms around my neck, trying to catch up with me. Her lips fit perfectly with mine, as if they had always been mine. I move my hand up her back until I place it behind her neck, deeper into her kiss. I missed kissing her. I had been wanting to do it since we met again. It's slow, causing me to start to get hot. As we pull apart, I hear her let out a moan. In her eyes I could see that she still wanted more. I missed that look of hers. She is perfect. “I love you Jake,” she says, between each breath. ”I have always loved you.” "I know." she lets out a laugh and buries her face in my body "Shall we go inside?" “Sure.” I take her hand and signal to Gizmo to leave. He follows us starting to meow. "Know what Jake?" I notice her playful voice, happy. ”What's the matter?” "I don't think I'm going to need my room tonight...” "I don't think so either." That night was the longest night of our lives. It was the night that we made up for all the lost time and in which I recovered the reason why I believed in being happy again. We became one again. Epilogue
#duskwood#duskwood jake#duskwood mc#duskwood jake x mc#duskwood phil#duskwood phil x mc#duskwood thomas#duskwood richy#duskwood dan#duskwood lilly#duskwood hannah#duskwood cleo#duskwood jessy#duskwood fanfic#duskwood game#duskwood everbyte#everbyte studio#everbyte game#everbyte#fanfic
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a Simarkus Spy AU, inspired by bonesbubs (also on AO3)
featuring: Markus Manfred (rA9), Simon (Hyacinth)
wordcount: 869
"Duck behind the wall to your right and stay there." Simon advises, brows knit tight together as he flicks through different views to find a path out. "You have company."
Picking up a pencil by his side, he takes some notes; Luckily he already has the layout memorised since debriefing, it's just a matter of keeping track of the people around now, not losing anyone who could later sneak up on his agent.
"If I live through this one, will you finally tell me your name?"
Radios are naturally crackly in quality, yet Markus's voice still manages to pour through like the smoothest honey.
Shaking the thought from his head, Simon gets his eyes back on the man. A scratch on the cheek, but overall, he's faring well. He expected no less from one of his best.
"For the hundredth time," He begins, having to fight a slight smile coming through in his tone. "You knowing my name is detrimental to our partnership, and is generally unnecessary. Standby, rA9, I'm trying to help you here."
He sees cocky brows raising, nearly jumps when Markus's mismatched eyes glance up to the camera watching him.
"I just want to put a name to your face." He feigns innocence— And in truth, this is one of the more innocent if still inappropriate interactions they've had over comms. The more intense missions get adrenaline pumping, after all… Simon often wonders if he regrets what he says during those times.
No use wondering now, though, he'll only waste both of their time. "You don't know what I look like and you never will."
Markus isn't put off by that, back pressing against the wall as he looks out of the corner of his eye, gun held to his chest.
"But I see you every night in my dreams…"
Simon shuts his eyes tight, hand covering his face as he slowly leans to slump over his desk.
This is the issue with being 'the guy in the chair', you only ever work with the most suave people on Earth, literally trained to seduce if needs call for it— But you know you can't let yourself be on the receiving end of that attention. For a multitude of reasons, of course. It distracts from the job, and there's the dreadful knowledge that these people wouldn't even bat an eye passing you in the street.
Hell, most people wouldn't, he can't blame them.
"Are you hiding your face?" Markus asks into the silence. Simon doesn't have to look to know he's smirking, and he hates himself for it. "You know that I can't see you."
Straightening back up, Simon tilts his head back, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I don't need reminding. Company's gone for now, you can continue pushing forward… You should find a door?"
Biting back a chuckle, Markus does as he's told, brows furrowing at the large metal door he's met with.
"You got a code for me, Hyacinth?"
"I can do you one better, rA9."
Focusing back on his laptop, he types away— And watches with pride as the door unlocks itself, slowly opening for Markus.
The agent lets out a low whistle, impressed both by the man's skill and relieved to find the briefcase, the reason he's here in the first place. "Not bad at all… I've been meaning to ask you something."
"I'm sure it can wait, just focus for now. Last leg of the race."
Markus, of course, decides it can't wait. "Your codename?"
"Mhm?" Simon's back to writing, occasionally glancing up to the screen to make sure Markus is alright as he starts to make his way out with the briefcase, closing the door after himself. Good boy. "It's a flower. Didn't pick it, it was assigned to me."
"Also a Greek hero," Markus muses as he heads back down the hall, because of course he knows that. "Lover of Apollo."
Rolling his eyes, Simon takes pause to consider this. Fuck it, he'll bite. "Is he the one that flew too close to the sun? Reminds me of someone."
"Ouch," Markus snickers, relishing in the sound of a faint chuckle in his ear. "That's Icarus, anyway, Apollo's the Sun God himself. You need to brush up on your mythology."
"Can't say I'd know where to start on my own…" Lots of cultures, lots of myths; All fascinating in their own right. He does need a hobby, can't just keep sleeping whenever he's off the job. Need to get out more.
"Then don't do it on your own. You guide me here, I'll guide you there."
Simon taps his pencil against his notepad, thoughtful.
"You're considering it~"
"You're lucky I don't have a life outside of here, I'll get back to you on that. Good work today, rA9."
"Wait—" Bastard, he's already hopped off of comms. Markus sighs, at least happy to have a small chance at that while he continues on back to base with his prize. Needless to say, that'll be in the back of his mind until something is done about it… Maybe he can take the guy to a museum, he's sure he'll fit right in with the works of art they'll be surrounded by.
#detroit become human#dbh#dbh fic#my writing#dbh simon#dbh markus#simarkus#human au#markus is an agent#simon is his handler#flirting
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[Image Description: An Ace Attorney fancomic. It's mostly done in grayscale/sepia, with bits of color. There's a yellow caption box that reads "Dec 28, 2001". Kid Miles Edgeworth throws something and shouts, in a yellow speech bubble, "Leave my dad alone!" A red and yellow burst appears, presumably representing a gunshot. Manfred von Karma cries out in shock.
He glares down into the elevator, clutching his shoulder which is bleeding red blood, holding a gun. Inside the elevator are Gregory, Miles, and the bailiff, all slumped on the floor, unconscious. Manfred raises the gun and shoots off another yellow and red gunshot.
We see Gregory's face with his eyes closed, then a hospital bed. Two people converse via caption boxes. Yellow: "Oh my gosh". Blue: "…he's dead". Yellow: "…but who did it?" Blue: "…get the other two to the hospital". We see a hospital bed, then Gregory's POV as he opens his eyes.
A sot of Greory's eyes, now open. A nurse by his bed says, "Oh, Mr. Edgeworth, You're awake!" Gregory sits up, confused. He places a hand on his head and asks, "What… what happened". Detective Badd is leaning against a wall in the hospital. He says, "There was a murder". Gregory asks, "W-what?"
Badd continues, "In the courthouse elevator?" Gregory asks, "The courthouse elevator…? Dread fills his face and he says, "Wait.." He then shouts desperately, "Where's my son?!" Badd looks to the side sadly and says, "I'm… I'm sorry, Edgeworth." There is a close-up of Gregory's eye, tears starting to form in it. He says, "N-no… please…"
Gregory stares at his hands and cries. Badd turns away from him and says, "We'll book the guy, don't worry…" Gregory covers his face and begins to cry. His tears drip into the next panel, which shows kid Miles saying "I'm gonna be a defense attorney when I grow up! I'm gonna be just like you someday, dad!" Black drips like ink or tears from the top of the panel.
There's a framed photo of Miles, surrounded by colorful flowers, the most prominent being a pair of sunflowers. Gregory stands in the rain, thinking "He was just a little boy…"
Gregory sits at a table, looking at an article about the bailiff's acquittal and crying. He asks himself, "what do I do…" The doorbell rings. Gregory asks himself, "Who could that be?"
Gregory goes to open the door. He is confused as the person at the door asks, "Are you Gregory Edgeworth? The defense attorney?" Gregory replies, "I am… but… I'm sorry, kid I'm not taking cases at the-" The person interrupts with "That's not why I'm here! My name is Metis Cykes. I want to help you." End description.]
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#op please add the description to the original post#in plain text and not under a read more#described#art#fanart#ace attorney#comic#fancomic#gregory edgeworth#miles edgeworth#manfred von karma#yanni yogi#tyrell badd#metis cykes#aa1 spoilers#death#blood#murder#gun#au#astro boy au
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Being the youngest child of the infamous Baron Von Schatten wasn't exactly a walk in the haunted forest. My siblings, Helga with her pet griffin and Manfred with his army of goblin minions, were practically born wreaking havoc. Me? I preferred pressed flowers and tending to the (somewhat reluctant) magical rose bushes in the courtyard. Rebellion, apparently, wasn't the family business I was cut out for.
Enter Elias, the charming thief who stumbled into our dungeon one rainy afternoon. Unlike the usual trembling heroes, he wasn't fazed by my father's booming voice or my mother's terrifying cackle. He saw me, not the Baron's daughter, but a girl who shared his passion for forgotten lore and whispered secrets. Our clandestine meetings under the cover of night, him slipping stolen pastries and me sharing dusty tomes from the family library, were a stolen piece of normalcy in my chaotic life.
Of course, it couldn't last. My father, ever the opportunist, saw Elias's skills as a potential asset to his villainous schemes. He proposed a preposterous alliance: my hand in marriage for Elias's… well, "professional services." I refused, naturally, the image of Elias forced into servitude to my villainous family making my stomach churn. To my surprise, Elias did the same.
"I wouldn't want to put a damper on your delightfully peaceful life, Seraphina," he winked, a mischievous glint in his eye. He proposed a daring escape – we'd vanish into the world beyond the Schatten estate, leaving behind the expectations and injustices of their dark reputation.
The escape was exhilarating and terrifying. I ditched my velvet gowns for sturdy travel clothes, and Elias, surprisingly, showed a knack for picking locks (not that he ever admitted to prior experience). We faced perilous swamps inhabited by grumpy gnomes and navigated treacherous mountain passes with only each other for comfort. Our love grew stronger with each shared hardship, a flicker of defiance against the expectations thrust upon us.
Years passed like pages in a well-worn adventure novel. We settled in a quaint village nestled by a whispering river, far from the reach of my family. I ran a humble apothecary, using my knowledge of herbs and Elias's "acquired" treasures to craft potions and concoctions for the townsfolk. Elias, reformed thief turned charming rogue, earned a living through his (perfectly legal) storytelling skills, regaling audiences with fantastical tales, some suspiciously close to our own daring escape.
One crisp autumn afternoon, a familiar figure stood outside our shop. It was Manfred, my younger brother, looking less menacing than usual. He brought news – my parents were retiring, the villainous mantle passing to Helga, who seemed even less interested in domesticity than I was. Relief washed over me, followed by a pang of guilt. My fight for freedom hadn't included liberating my family.
Elias, ever the pragmatist, saw an opportunity. We could use our skills – my knowledge of herbs and his talent for storytelling – to guide them towards a less villainous path, perhaps even helping them build a reputation for good. Our journey, he said, wasn't just about escaping my family, but about helping them change.
And so, it seems, our story takes another turn. My villainous family may not have let me be a damsel in distress, but they certainly didn't prevent me from finding love, forging my own path, and maybe, just maybe, even influencing them to write a new chapter in their own villainous tale. Who knew happily ever after could include a reformed thief, a slightly less terrifying family, and a lifetime's worth of adventures? Now that's a story worth telling.
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