#bellec

[evies-gauntlet]

What’s the mission?

[lunavadash-creates]

Arno: I'm such a failure

Bellec: Yes, you are

Arno: I've failed my mission

Bellec: Yes, you did

Arno:...

Arno: I could use some words of encouragemnt

Bellec: Yes, you could

[budugaapologist]

thanks for 900 followers heres cursed memes from discord i made

if youre on that discord im glad you saw these twice :)

[stabbyapologist]

That Dude be sucking down that Nostros like it's going out of style. A junkie knows a junkie and I knew that dude was getting high on his own supply before it aired. Omg. He needs to go through one heavy as hell detox.

[storytimefromthecreed]

Be Our Guest

Bellec lead them deep into the streets of France, where the only thing darker than the shadows were the minds of its citizens. Whenever he caught the eye of one, Arno found himself so taken aback with sorrow that his footfalls slowed and he stared. When Bellec got too far ahead of him, Arno shook his head and jogged after him. Things in France were dark, and he was a fool to think light could survive here. Steeling himself, Arno removed these thoughts from his mind and stuck close to Bellec’s heels.

The gray stone building grew so that it looked like a castle by the time he’d arrived to it. Craning his neck to take it in, Arno found his breath caught in his throat and his jaw slack. The responsibility of the duty that he was finding bestowed to him suddenly seemed far more daunting now that it was becoming real.

“Keep up, pisspot.” Bellec gruffed, and Arno hurried after him. Their steps echoed off the stone floors, hitting the walls, and reached his ears. The place looked abandoned. Tapestry hung from the archways in tattlers, and there were no torches on the rings lining the walls. Bellec spoke not a word, but lead him deeper into the building, explaining as he went. “This is our Bureau. We train here, hold our meetings, discuss our plans, and are among our own kind.” When Bellec said that, Arno felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise. Invisible eyes were watching him, but he had no proof. “Right this way, pisspot. They’re going to want to meet you. Keep your head about you, speak only when spoken to, and don’t embarrass me.” Bellec’s jab would have gotten some retort from Arno had he not been so nervous. Instead, Arno nodded.

The wooden doors ran the height of the hallways, and Arno noticed the out of place rungs and beams that decorated the high walls and ceiling. He would have given it more thought, but Bellec pushed open the huge doors and they were inside a large room. Stairs on the left and right led up to form a level, and there were beams and rings on the walls and ceiling. The second floor had doors and halls, but not a person. On the floor was the symbol Arno knew to be the Assassins. It was when he was investigating this symbol that Bellec stepped forward and spoke. “I bring Arno Victor Dorian to the Bureau of Assassins to complete his training and induct him into the Brotherhood.” Bellec’s words echoed and Arno watched the shadows tensely.

For a minute, nothing happened, and Arno’s eyes began to ache as he scanned the room and found nothing. Beginning to think this was Bellec’s idea of a joke, Arno opened his mouth to yell at the old man for wasting his time when the voice made him jump.

“Ma beau, Monsieur.” A man was standing at the center of the second floor, right in front of them. How Arno had missed him, he had no idea. His heart raced, and a faint sweat touched his cheeks and forehead. The man was dressed in a green hood, and his face was covered save for the stern line that was his mouth. Arno tried to gulp, but his mouth was too dry. Then, the air shimmered as if the room was vibrating. The corner of the man’s mouth twitched. “It is with deepest pride and greatest pleasure that we welcome you tonight. And now we invite you to relax, let us pull up a chair as the Assassin’s Bureau proudly presents, your training.”

The shadows began to shimmer and come alive as the man’s voice gently picked up. “Be. Our. Guest. Be our guest.” With a kick, he flicked his dark green hood to expose his face and the lights in the Bureau began to raise. “Put our service to the test. Tie your napkin 'round your neck, mon ami,” The man kicked towards the stairs, adjusting his tie and giving Arno a brilliant grin. “And we provide the rest.”

The man leapt on the railing and slid down, singing, “Soup du jour, hot hors d'oeuvres. Why, we only live to serve. Try the grey stuff, it's delicious.” With a flip, he landed and bowed low. Draping a hand across his body, he stood quickly and gestured to the darkness. “Don't believe me? Ask the dishes!”

The room lit up, and rows of people appeared. They were formed in kick lines and began to dance as the green-coated man sang, “They can sing, they can dance,” he danced past Arno and saluted him with two fingers before joining the end of the line, “after all, sir, this is France. And a dinner here is never second best.”

They began kicking and as they did, they surrounded Arno. More and more people filed in the room, and Arno couldn’t believe how many people could fit in. “Go on, unfold your menu. Take a glance and then you'll.” The green coat slid to his knees to Arno. “Be our guest, be our guest, be our guest.”

The room began to sing, “Beef ragout, cheese souffle, pie and pudding "en flambe.” The circle tightened before everyone turned around and leapt away. “We'll prepare and serve with flair, a culinary cabaret.””

Only Greencoat remained. Face to face with Arno, he grabbed Arno’s scarf and wrapped it around his head. Frowning madly, he ran one tear down his eye. “You're alone,” then his looked frightened at the dancers. Tugging Arno’s chest to him and he hid behind him, “And you're scared.” Before Arno could push him away, Greencoat released him with a charming smile. “But the banquet's all prepared.” He pushed the corners of Arno’s frown up and danced away to join the others. They all linked, and he spun someone. “No one's gloomy or complaining,” dipping them low, he winked, “while the flatware's entertaining.”

Another booming voice came in and a man placed his axe in the hands of another as he rolled up his sleeves. “We tell jokes,” he jut a thumb to a young Assassin in tan. This man did a back flip off the wall and landed in a handstand before flipping again and landing gracefully amongst the dancers. The Axeman sang, “He does tricks,” opening his arms, more Assassins joined the line, and everyone found a partner. “With my fellow candlesticks.”

Everyone sang, as they twirled and dipped. “And it's all in perfect taste that you can bet. Come on and lift your glass.” They lifted their partners, and the partners pressed their feet to their chests before backflipping off. “You've won your own free pass to be our guest.”

Greencoat opened his arms and swayed his hips, wiping his hand across his forehead. “If you're stressed. It's fine dining we suggest.”

Everyone sang, “Be our guest. Be our guest. Be our guest.”

Everything went dark for a moment, and fear flashed inside Arno. When the lights came back on, a single beam was on Greencoat. Sitting on a ledge, he draped a hand over his face. “Life is so unnerving. For a servant who's not serving.” The Assassins were scattered about in various poses of woe. “He's not whole without a soul to wait upon.”

Axeman clapped Greencoat’s shoulder, frowning. “Ah, those good old days when we were useful. Suddenly those good old days are gone.”

Ghost came in, kicking a rock. “Ten years we've been rusting. Needing so much more than dusting. Needing exercise, a chance to use our skills.” He flexed and then dropped the pose, returning to kicking the rock. “Most days we just lay around the Bureau.” He was close to Arno now. “Flabby, fat and lazy.” He put a hand on Arno’s shoulder and his frown turned completely around. Grinning, he gave Arno la biase. “You walked in and oops-a-daisy!” Doing a backflip off his chest, Ghost ran to join the others, singing, “It's a guest! It's a guest!”

“For fuck’s sake.” Bellec crossed his arms, not impressed. “Is this what you lot have been up to? When Mirabeau gets word of this-”

From the top of the stairs, the Mentor and Master himself emerged. The dancers froze, and Bellec smirked. Mirabeau’s eyes looked around the room, about to question what was going on, until his eyes landed on Arno. A smile stretched across his face, Mirabeau walked down the stairs with a skip in his step, “Sakes alive, well I'll be blessed. Wine's been poured and thank the Lord, I've had the napkins freshly pressed!” Reaching the bottom of the steps, the Assassins flocked, some on their knees, others hanging from the ceiling, their knees secured on swinging seats. They leaned in closely as Mirabeau began his instruction, and groups flocked away to convey his orders. “With dessert, he'll want tea, And my dear that's fine with me. While the cups do their soft shoeing, I'll be bubbling, I'll be brewing!” Mirabeau strolled over to him, and Arno felt safe with him. He had kind eyes and looked at all the Assassins as his children. “I'll get warm. Piping hot. Heaven's sakes! Is that a spot?” He pointed, and an Assassin hurried to clean it. “Clean it up! We want the company impressed. We've got a lot to do.” He gave Arno a smile. “Is it one lump or two? For you, our guest?

Arno put up two fingers, and as Assassins rushed off to get his tea, he was pulled into the dance. The company sang, “He's our guest! He's our guest! Our command is your request!” Arno was pulled from one Assassin to another, arms linked together, circling one way and the other before being turned to a new Assassin. His face hurt from laughing so much, but he never wanted this madness to end. “It's ten years since we had anybody here, and we're obsessed!”

Greencoat threw an arm around him, “With your meal, with your ease. Yes, indeed, we aim to please.”

Ghost appeared at his side threw his arm over Greencoat’s. “While the candlelight's still glowing, let us help you. We’ll keep going.”

Axeman appeared and pulled Arno from the two and back into the dance with a spin. “Course by course, one by one, 'til you shout, ‘Enough! I'm done!’” Arno was dizzy when he returned to the center of the circle. Around him, they danced, performing leaps and tricks, did partner dances. All these factors happened by themselves and in unison at the same time.

Before he could realize what had occurred, the circle closed in on him and he was in a tangle of arms. “Then we'll sing you off to sleep as you digest. Tonight you'll prop your feet up, but for now, let's eat up,” Then, he was soaring. It was terrifying at first, but when he landed in the tangle of limbs again, he laughed. They threw him up again, “Be our guest!” And each time, Arno broke into laughter. Tears in his eyes, his sides hurting, and happiness in his heart. “Be our guest. Be our guest. Please, be our guest!!”

“Come on, pisspot.” Bellec grumbled, and Arno ignored his sore mood.

“Don’t ruin this for me, old man. Call me pisspot once more and we’re going to have a problem.” Arno rolled out of his spot and Mirabeau had his tea ready. Maybe finding a home with the Assassins wouldn’t be as difficult as Arno had thought.

[kisstheassassins]

Can I request some headcanons about Arno and Bellec as father and son in a modern au? :)

Modern AU

Arno is adopted by Bellec.

Arno’s father is real close friends with Bellec, so he’s already like a second father to Arno.

Once Arno’s father passes away, he lives and grows with Bellec.

Bellec is the one to tell Arno that he’s adopting Arno, and Arno breaks down crying.

Moving on, Bellec still teases the fuck out of Arno, calling him ‘Pisspot’ and what not.

Also embarrasses him quite often.

“He used to wet the bed when he was 12.”

“dAD”

It happens quite often.

He teaches Arno to cook and read at a young age. 

When Arno brings home homework, Bellec can help him with science and any other subject. But if you put a math equation in front of him? Forget it. 

“They showed us how to do it this way, though.”

“Why would you do it this way? This way is much simpler! WHY WOULD YOU CHANGE MATH WHEN YOU CAN DO IT LIKE THIS AND GET THE SAME ANSWER WHAT IS THIS SCHOOL TEACHING YOU ARNO.”

Bellec had some rough teaching moments if Arno was being stubborn and didn’t obey him. 

Sometimes it would seem he would take his methods to the extreme.

But Arno learned in the end, and understood why Bellec did what he did. 

They go out to eat quite often, none of them wanting to cook after coming home from school or work.

When Arno introduces Elise to him Bellec turns into the biggest prick, embarrassing he shit out of Arno, offering to show her his baby pictures.

He even tells stories of when Arno was a kid.

“BELLEC, PLZ STOP.”

Arno is raised well by Bellec, despite the man’s demeanor. Arno loves him like a father, and Bellec loves him like a son.

[sparrowvision]

Assassin’s Creed Unity bugs I’m still laughing at

[assassins-tales]

Blood is thicker than water - The meeting

ARNO X FEMALE ORIGINAL CHARACTER

Author: @alexasnowme

I stood in the shadows awaiting my contact, it was a detestable business with somewhat unsavory characters but if this helped France and drew this revolution to an end with less bloodshed it was worth it. My contact was a very cantankerous old man, Bellec. He had a wit so dry it bordered on good taste. Luckily for him, I was used to such characters in the French court, he had no idea how alike he was to the royalty who thought themselves superior due to their title. Bellec’s notions did not give him the moral high ground he believed. I pulled into the light upon hearing his distinctive heavy footsteps echo through the passage. If he wished to be silent he could but he needed me to hear him. As I had to not be shocked or surprised lest we give away our presence. He saw me and nodded. “Meet our fellow conspirator,” Bellec announced to a younger man at his side. I did not acknowledge the young assassin at first as I wouldn’t let that impudence stand. “Do not cast me as one in your little war. I care not if they are Templar or assassin. I only seek to remove the bad influences from the court.” “Will you help him get into the palace?” Bellec remarked in annoyance. “That was the agreement,” I assured him. “That is all I care about,” Bellec grumbled. “Does our contact have a name?” The young assassin politely inquired with a hint of sarcasm.

I turned to look upon him. I had heard much about this one. The descriptions did not do him justice. I decided it would be appropriate to introduce myself before it looked as if I was staring. “Cecile. It is nice to meet you, Arno.” “But I did not tell you my name. How do you know?” He remarked as if I had just performed some amazing feat.

Amused I began, “I know much about all the players involved. You two included. I like to know who I am working with.”  “You know nothing of me,” Bellec dismissed my comment with an air of arrogance as if untouchable. But I knew enough of him to be weary of him. Fanatics are dangerous no matter what side they are aligned with. I had seen many in my short time within the French court but I knew them to believe themselves right and would not hear anything to the contrary. I said nothing to Bellec and left him to his delusions. The young assassin pressed, “what do you know of me?” His gentle brown eyes narrowed with what seemed to be suspicion. “Arno Dorian, your path has not been an easy one but you have been busy of late. Do assassins know nothing of caution?” His steely gaze softened. The grin that crossed his face was lopsided but annoyingly endearing. He had a boyish charm to his smile and appearance. He also bore scars that marred his youthful face, and a weary look that spoke of a wealth of experience, none of it good but it seemed he had learnt from it as he still drew breath. He smiled widely. “I do try I assure you.” I raised my eyes trying to hide the smile creeping across my lips. “Does that boyish charm work?” “Not on Bellec.” I couldn’t help the smile that drew across my face, he was rather amusing. And the annoyance upon Bellec’s face only made it more so. Bellec took his leave with a nod in my direction and a quick hand upon Arno’s shoulder. Arno had many questions as we began to slowly walk into the grounds. I was not used to such curiosity from assassins. It was normally suspicion I had to contend with. Arno remarked quietly, “You are not what I expected?” I raised an eyebrow before responding in the same hushed tone, “What were you expecting?” “Well, that you wouldn’t be so…I did not expect a woman and an English one at that. What brings you to the midst of France during such unrest?” “My father. He is French. He is a man of station and wealth.” “France is not safe for such men.” “I have told him this but he is stubborn and he is trying to continue his good work while those around him work for their own self-interest.” “Then he will be in danger from both sides. He is a brave man to stay.” “He is a fool,” I grumbled under my breath.  I did not wish to have to worry about my father with such frequency. The anxiety had become too much for me so I had found a way to do my part to clear the court of the dangerous factions who threatened, my father and any who still wished to do good for France. I hoped I was making it safer for them. I sighed heavily. “So how do you intend to get me in unseen?” Arno whispered. “I know all the back ways and hidden doors, ” I assured him. “Of course. I am glad of your aid.” Before he slipped through the secret door I remarked, “don’t get yourself killed. I do not need such things upon my conscience.”

“I will be as careful as I can be,” he replied taking my hand and kissing it in a gentlemanly fashion before flashing me a smile. 

I shooed him away and closed the door quietly. My heart was racing. I couldn’t believe I still wasn’t used to this sneaking about in darkness. It still scared me to think of being discovered and all it would entail but I knew why I was doing this and for now, that kept me going. I slipped into the shadows and left Arno to his work. I did not wish to bear witness to whatever would occur and I knew it would not be the last I saw of Arno or Bellec.