#rinadam

[lonqarts]

A small collection of dbd doodles, featuring a skin concept, ship bullshit and some face hcs!! 🎉

[rinshauntedground]

Kiss Adam

*chu*

[itwillbeall-dwight]

amicability

adam francis/rin yamaoka | the spirit; canon typical violence warning; 3488 words

a/n: i don't know how I'm gonna format these kinda posts on here, since i know that Tumblr really loves to suppress tags and i haven’t formatted a full fic in a post in literal years, so if this looks a bit wonky, i apologise. anyways, hi i bring the rinadam goods that we as a community all love and deserve. this man has a ghost wife thank you very much. ALSO if anyone ever wants to suggest fics for me (more rinadam, or maybe even for some of my other ships if you care to ask, wink wink), feel free! my askbox is open.

likes < reblogs, any comments in the tags are appreciated

ao3 mirror in the reblogs! 

Preview: Looking up, he saw the mangled form of the Spirit staring down at him, having found him once more, her weapon drawn. Her looming presence over him made him sick... his eyes fell on the hatch by her feet. As he crawled closer to it, she was going to close it, watch the hope drain from his face and relish in it before slamming his shoulder through a hook and feeding him to the master she served so diligently, with all her rage and hatred.

The third and final scream echoed throughout the empty temple, as the former teacher pressed his back against the cold wall, clutching his side where warm blood stained his clothes and his hands. The soft rumbling of the generator beside him brought him some form of comfort, but not much - now Adam was in this trial alone, injured, with a very angry Spirit ready to sniff him out and strike him down, as she had done with the rest of his friends.

With his heart beating loud in his ears, Adam kept himself low to the ground, suppressing winces and groans of pain as best he could as he climbed out of the temple’s lower floor, and to the stairs outside. He pressed a hand against the wall for support, grabbing it hard to pull himself to his full height. He still ended up slumped over due to his injuries. He could see the gate from here... and no Spirit. Gritting his teeth and gripping his side, he took that as his cue to get going, quickly stepping down the temple’s stairs and stumbling on the damp earth beneath his feet, where the constant, miserable drizzle of rain left the ground of mud and leaves slick and dangerous. He took his time, but not too much, crouching around a wall and practically crawling around it, pressing his shoulder against the wood of it for support. The gate was in sight now. Adam took a moment to gather his breath, swallowing his inhibitions as he rose to his feet, stumbling towards the gate and reaching out to grab at the handle—

A loud scream from nearby made his head snap up, looking at the petite yet fierce form of the Spirit some distance away. She manifested her blade into her hand and screamed again, the fingers on her free hand almost snapping into a claw-like motion before she took off into a rage-fueled sprint, running for him. Slipping and stumbling for a moment on the wet forest floor beneath him, adrenaline began to kick in as Adam ran as fast as he could away from her. He heard the slashes of her blade, feeling the wind against his back from each slice as she got closer and closer, the familiar and trademark snapping and shattering coming from her twitching form echoing in his ears - the noise had haunted him the entire trial. 

She gave another ear-piercing scream as he vaulted over the wall, barely missing him again and hitting the edge of the window instead. His fingers slipped a little on the slick, mossy stone and he took a slight stumble on the other side, but he still carried on, running forward and ducking around another wall. His chest was heaving, a tight, twisting pain from his open wounds and running so far, pressing his back against the cold wall, as if that would help. There was next to no time to catch his breath, though, hearing that same damn cracking of the Spirits movements getting closer and closer, sniffing him out like a bloodhound. He looked around for a moment, the chipped red paint of the locker beside him catching his eye quickly - now this wasn’t a hard choice, limping towards the locker and quickly shutting the door - this was a last ditch effort or bust.

Watching with wide eyes, Adam saw through the small slits in the locker as she reached the wall where he once had been, beginning to pace back and forth in search of her final sacrifice. He began gripping harder to his side in a tense impulse and cursing himself as a surge of pain coursed through him. He listened to her strained, tired breaths, the way her limbs shifted and moved with each turn she made - for a moment, it was almost as if they locked eyes as she stared right at the locker, making his breath catch in his throat. But the Spirit did nothing further, grunting in frustration as she looked away, bare feet hitting the dirt as she went to look elsewhere. The teacher let out a quiet, shaky sigh, releasing the breath he had been holding and pressing his forehead against the locker door, before looking up again to check if the coast was clear.

And that’s when he saw it.

Right in front of him, as if luck itself had reached down and placed it there - a rusted, metal hatch, shadows gathering at its mouth as if they were reaching up and trying to grab a slice of heaven. His heart began beating faster just as he’d begun to calm down - was this it, could he have a chance, against all odds? Allowing himself to shakily laugh, Adam let go of the locker’s door handle and slowly pushed it open, careful to avoid any creaks the old hinges may have let out, stepping out with one foot first - pausing to check for noise - and then the other-

Sudden pain surged through his ankle as he pressed weight onto it, and without thinking Adam stumbled forwards, losing his footing rather quickly on the dirt and slipping onto his back, the wind being knocked out of him and leaving him gasping for air for a moment.  He rolled onto his side, the light drizzle of rain hitting his face now, as if to mock him as he lay there for a moment, trying to steady his breathing to stop himself from making any noise. He must have sprained his ankle in the chase - he wouldn’t have noticed in the rush, with the adrenaline pumping through his veins, keeping him alive. Gritting his teeth, Adam looked back up at the hatch, only a short distance away now. His only thought was to get to it. Get out before the Spirit could find him again. Moving his hand from his injured side, he made no effort to get up in his desperation, instead dragging himself across the mud, listening to the ambience from the hatch’s shadows and the way the rain hit the open, metal cover, as he got closer and closer.

And that’s when he heard it again. Light footsteps and the snapping of glass. Adam cursed himself, knowing it was too lucky to be more than an illusion of an escape, and anything else but a sick trick.

Looking up, he saw the mangled form of the Spirit staring down at him, having found him once more, her weapon drawn. Her looming presence over him made him sick... his eyes fell on the hatch by her feet. As he crawled closer to it, she was going to close it, watch the hope drain from his face and relish in it before slamming his shoulder through a hook and feeding him to the master she served so diligently, with all her rage and hatred.

“You... you won.” There was defeat in his voice - he knew there was no way, as he bled out on the wet floor of the forest just outside some accursed temple. He’d wake up by the campfire and start this all over again anyways, what did it matter? Adam’s head fell, expecting to hear the slam of metal, followed by the way the girl so terrible crackled and snapped, like broken glass, with every movement she made. But there was nothing.

All she gave him was a small noise - was that a whimper? - of... almost pity. He looked up at her again now; as she stared down at him with a... softer expression. The rage within her had subsided, if only momentarily, leaving her face soft and solemn as she gazed down at him. The light cracking of her movements and the shifting of her enfeebled limbs was the loudest of the noises she made, though from this distance he could hear her laboured, struggling breaths. 

“W...what are you...?” He wasn’t sure if she was sizing up her kill, or simply waiting for him to bleed out as she stared him down, but in a blood loss-induced delirium, Adam would swear up and down she looked... sad. The blade in her hand blinked away, from the serrated blade to its wrapped hilt, with a flick of a loose, pale wrist, leaving her stood there for a moment, arms at her side.

“...Free...” It was a struggle for her to speak, but the kanji she spoke almost took him by surprise - of course, looking at her this close, she was clearly of Asian descent, so the Japanese that came from her wasn’t the surprise he was taken aback by. It was moreso that he could still remember some himself to translate it, given how long he’d existed within the torturous realm by now.

Before he could ask her to elaborate, the Spirit turned her back on him, and slowly began shuffling away, her bare feet leaving a disgusting mud trail underneath her... leaving Adam alone to crawl to the hatch, and fall into an abyss of safety. 

~

Coming back around at the campfire, there was a loud pounding in his head and a throbbing in his side, being prodded at and touched. A wet surface touched against it, leaving him to wince at the sting of the antiseptic.

“Hey, hey, it’s OK, you’re safe, Mr. Francis.” Claudette’s voice remained calm above him, as she placed a hand under his head where a log had once been, leaving Adam to open his eyes and look up at her.

“I-I’m sorry-”

“Hey, no. You made it out, and that’s more than enough.” She smiled softly, always ready to put anyone’s anxieties at ease, going back to the med kit by her side for a moment. Adam remembered seeing her at the beginning of the trial; she was the first to be sacrificed on the hook. And yet, she didn’t hold any grudges - she never did. Claudette looked up again, as a shadow was cast over them, kneeling down. “Oh, Ace, give me a hand?”

There was a quiet grumble, as Adam shifted his gaze to look at the gambler who was taking the gauze from Claudette. He’d been the second sacrifice in the trial - if there was one thing that Ace was good at, it was being a distraction and a runaround. With his sunglasses falling down his nose from looking down, Adam could see him look up at him, their eyes locking. “No apologies for me, eh?”

“...You did great, Visconti. Sorry-”

“Ah, no need to apologize- selfless hero, I am, don’t you know.” He waved an arm of dismissal before the teacher could even finish his sentence, satisfied enough to get him to grin in his trademark, punchable-face way, passing the roll of gauze back to Claudette again, making Adam roll his eyes and laugh, though only momentarily, sucking air in again from his open wound.

That only left Kate, the last member of the trial, to be seen. Claudette said she was talking to Dwight about something, last time she’d seen them - probably going on another patrol of the fog, as was customary after every trial. They’d been working on the generator in the lower floor of the temple together, but she’d left him there to run the Spirit around again, just to make sure they got it up to speed - ‘gotta take every window of opportunity with open arms’, she’d said, in her gentle Southern drawl, with her usual warm smile for comfort. And he had been comforted, up until he heard her screams of pain from across the complex, just as he connected the wires and brought that final generator to life.

It didn’t take long for him to be patched up, enough to let him sit up, at the very least. He exchanged a few more words with both Ace and Claudette, the former going off to bother the old soldier Bill as soon as he spotted him, and the latter having to stop yet another fight between David and Meg that had become customary to the campfire as of recently. After being given an apologetic look by the botanist before she stood to her feet (her polite pleading contrasting to Detective Tapp who followed in her wake, his tone of voice commanding and his grip firm as pushed the two hot-headed young individuals away from each other), Adam found himself restless, sighing to himself as he looked around, the horizon around them obscured by fog and trees, just as it always had been. For some reason, though, he now felt eyes in the back of his head from the fog, something watching him from afar… it made his skin crawl. He thought back for a moment to the trial, and the way the Spirit stared down at him on the floor… and how similar this paranoid feeling made him feel. Gripping onto the log he sat by with one hand, and holding onto his injured side with the other, Adam pushed himself to his feet, and turned back to the wide outstretch of forest, before slowly - and against any better judgement he had - walking into the clearing.

That wasn’t any understatement, either - from what little they knew of the realm they were all residing in, going out there alone was almost guaranteed to get you hurt, or perhaps even killed, if that was even still possible. Wails and scraping metal had been heard through the trees, and it had been hypothesised that the killers who stalked their paths in every trial were occupying the very same woods, just outside of their own safe haven at the campfire. Of course, this paranoid drivel from Dwight had been mocked by some, but being out here alone, now Adam could understand. There was no wind, and yet, some of the leaves still moved, quiet whispers through the scenery around him bringing him no form of comfort. He gave a hard swallow, choosing to push through and continue - what was he hoping to find here, exactly? Had he hit his head in that trial, unknown to him, making him act out irrationally and possibly run into the face of danger? 

That same feeling of a  burning gaze came back twofold, even closer this time, causing Adam to bring his head up and look around. Among the same, silent trees, and the rolling fog in the distance, the gentle whispers (being the only noise made, he now noted - just how far had he wandered out here?) focused onto one sad, familiar form. A floating hand supported her against the tree she stood close to, watching him with her eyes of bright white voids. On instinct, he took a couple of steps away. She didn’t move. And once again, just like the trial before them, time seemed to almost slow in the silence that followed, the light shifting and crackling coming from the Spirit being the only thing to cut it. At least initially.

Adam watched as she moved again, opening her mouth to take a breath, before she spoke - her voice was strained from screaming, as often as she did in the trials. “You are… safe.”

He paused. “I… yes. Thanks to you.”

She seemed to smile slightly at that… strangely enough, it fit her face well, he noted to himself. “I… saved you.”

“...By letting me leave, yes.”

The Spirit stopped for a moment, looking down at her hand that had remained at her side until now, observing the large shard of glass pierced into her flesh. “You are… lost. Not safe here.”

“I-I am, yes. Are your… friends… nearby?”

“Yes.”

He swallowed hard, once again looking around in the open forest and fog that had surrounded the two of them. As he seemed to look around on alert, she continued.

“But it’s not… them. They are… bad people, but now, they are calm. It’s… this.” She lifted a hand to gesture all around herself, making him raise an eyebrow.

“The forest?”

“The fog,” she corrected, pausing to take a breath - from this interaction, it was plain to see that she wasn’t used to speaking so calmly, or perhaps even speaking at all. “Is hungry.”

“What?”

She looked at his confused face, shaking her head. “Not enough time. You… need to go back. I can... help you. If you would like.”

Adam watched as The Spirit held out her hand - for a moment holding out the wrong one, where glass remained and dried blood stained her palm, before pulling it back again - for him to take. He looked down at it, pondering for a moment what to do, before, against his better judgement, he extended his arm, and took her offer.

Her hand was so cold and dead against his skin, enough to make him jolt a little on contact, surprising the Spirit just as much as he recoiled away slightly. Adam let out a nervous laugh, unsure how long the rage he had seen her front more often than not would be subsided, before taking her cold hand once more. Her long, slender fingers curled around his hand, and, after seeming to gaze at the sky for a moment or two, she began to lead him through the trees that all looked the same, along a path that had not been walked. For a moment, Adam considered she was simply leading him away to kill him - perhaps to her fellow killers to let them join in on the fun. But as he was led along, looking at the softness of her features and the sadness in her eyes… he was almost sure that, right now at least, she wasn’t capable of such rancour.

They walked on and on through the trees, not a word between them, with Adam focusing on the sounds of broken glass that followed her as she walked, staring down at their conjoined hands while remaining aware of his surroundings enough to move around the fauna around them. The path seemed endless, but being lost in his thoughts meant that perhaps his sense of time became warped.

“What’s your name?”

The question from the girl came suddenly, cutting through the silence with her quiet voice, enough to make him look up and answer without thinking - as if he was talking to a friendly stranger, and not someone who very easily could - and had done so in the past - end his life. “...Adam.”

“Adam…” she repeated, not looking back at him. “Your name… is nice.”

He paused. “Do you… have a name?”

There wasn’t a response for a second or two, as she seemed to ponder the question. “I was… Rin.”

The notion of ‘was’ troubled him, combined with the need to actively think about the question. He disregarded it for the moment, as he replied; “Your name is nice as well.”

From this angle just behind her, he could swear that she smiled sadly. Adam chose not to press it further, continuing with another question - this may well have been the only chance to ask it, after all. A form of closure for himself, and perhaps information for his friends.

“You could have easily killed me, by the hatch. Why didn’t you?”

Her sad smile fell, face blank. “I… I don’t know. It’s odd… I think… we were similar, when you were like that.”

“Similar? What do you mean?”

The Spirit - Rin - shook her head now, dismissing the conversation, to which Adam complied, not wanting to bring forth the rage that she was known for among the people she and her ilk tormented. But it did not stop himself from thinking; about the person that Rin had once been, and how similar they really had to have been, in that moment. He thought about this as no more words were said.

When the light sound of idle chatter in the distance became noticeable, he looked up in its direction and pulled his hand away, enough to make the Spirit stop and look up at him. Adam listened to the white noise for a moment, never more glad to hear it, before looking back to what he once considered to be a threat.

“I… do not understand what you’re doing, but… thank you.”

Her smile was weak and strained, taking in air to prepare herself to speak again. “I cannot… follow. Be safe.” Rin looked up at him with her blank, sad looking eyes again, before passing by him again, no wind in particular following after her, some of her long hair brushing against his neck and face as she paused.

Adam watched her leave, watched her be taken into the fog that had seemed to follow them, thinking back to her warnings of her fellow killers not being the biggest danger in this realm - at least, not right now.

A loud, piercing, familiar screaming (not angry though - it was pained, straining) some distance away prompted him to swiftly return to the campfire now, as the fog slowly continued to roll in.