And Finally, the Perfection of Man Chapters 11- 14

Arno really does get the shit-end of the stick in this fandom. While he doesn't have much in the way of fanfics, the ones he does star in usually have him be this inconsistent, indecisive, moody cuck of a man who'd probably be better off flipping burgers and writing Queerty articles. People interpret his attractiveness as submissiveness when it's an incredibly shallow way of interpreting good-looking men. Amazingly, and to my surprise, it's usually reader-insert fics who write him better than fics where he interacts with others. There, he acts like a man in charge of himself and in control of his sexuality. Here? Well he's just a guy ready to be pegged and/or raped.

When Arno went back upstairs, he didn't really feel like he was going back to his room. He slammed the file on his desk, annoyed, irritated, angry, to the point of wanting to throw a frame on the ground when he had never broken anything in his life under anger. Elise's letter box, always impossible to lock, always impossible to burn, was always open, and the sight of this second heart of paper only increased its bitterness. Nothing here reminded him of the house. Now everything was foreign, all the landmarks gone up in smoke. Each room, each memory, the corridors and the medals and the weapons, Madame Gouze and the taste of coffee, everything became unbearable for him.

He no longer felt like he belonged anywhere.

Arno was angry. Arno was closed, which became a horrible habit; Arno was tired, Arno was fed up.

I don't blame you one bit for feeling the way you do, Arno. You're being led around in a donkey cart and the carrot is a semen-crusted dildo. It's like even you understand this plot is ridiculous and useless, but get angry anyways.

The thing is, when you have a character who's frustrated, it helps to expand on why said character is frustrated. Here, I know full well why Arno is the way he is, but his frustration is interpreted as a fault; that it is really his fault he's taking things so hard. He's doing this all because of de Sade's mind games and not on his own volition. He's fed up, but he's not really fed up, see.

Arno was tired. He wanted to have taken that damn boat for Egypt and never come back. He would have liked to be able to leave like his mother, to drop the Assassins and not let his life be dictated by others or organizations.

He was unable to let the others down. He extended his hand to them all the way, and he watched them fall one by one, go far ahead, stay behind, leave him alone - he was always alone, in the end.

It wore him out. 

Except your life is being dictated by someone else, my boy. You know exactly who. You don't want to let him down despite the things he's done to abuse and misuse your trust. He's unworthy of what you are, what sort of person you are, but you don't care. You go right back into his arms because you 'need' him. You're alone, but you don't cultivate it. de Sade sees your weakness and cultivates it, all for the purpose of sodomizing you. And you're too blind to see it.

Sade got on his nerves. It wasn't even hate anymore, he realized now; it was a constant frustration, the acid which gnawed at the galley without ever stopping, a sort of incessant state where he was on his guard without ever being able to rest. It was no longer the thunderous cry in the Café-Theater when it was discovered betrayed, it was no longer an explosion of continuous rage - it was the annoying ticking of the clock, the water leak that we couldn't seal up, an unbearable little noise that never fell silent in his head. In the twisty curve of his life, Sade was always there, in the background, to rain pungent remarks from a couch, with that damn nonchalance, as if he were able to master the situation just by swirling the wine in his glass. It was sodifferent from the rest. It was not the heartbreaking shot of Théroigne, it was not the wise speeches of Dumas, and even less-

Even less the impressive aura of Bonaparte. 

Arno is aware de Sade is using him, that de Sade is annoying and frustrating, but he rolls along with it anyways. If you are constantly enraged at someone - and in Arno's case, it's completely reasonable he feels the way he does - that person isn't there for love nor should be loved. Rage is a very uncontrollable and serious emotion. People have died at its mercy. For Arno, though, it serves only as a Red Herring: he is angry and frustrated now, but he'll grow to 'love' and 'crave' de Sade. It's predictable. Expectant, even.

This damn marquis had left his title to get out of it, hadn't hesitated to make him go crazy for what he wanted, and it worked - no, Arno was running . Why ? Why was he still doing all this? It didn't lead to anything, apart from hosting someone who would have knocked over his house to learn more about him, all for a few winks and charming smiles. Why didn't he bother him, by the way? Why never tried to tear that smile out and sink those eyes, since every time he received such an advance, he just smiled, and rolled his eyes pretending to be bored?

Yes, why are you still doing this? Yes, it certainly doesn't lead to anything. Do the authors care about this admission? No. Why would they even write it? For the pairing, of course! He frustrates you, but you still like his suggestive winks and smiles. He can look through Élise's letters, even threaten to burn your things, and still you forgive him.

Arno slipped his hand into the inside pocket of his coat. He took out the pocket watch, where the hand had never reached midday; it grew constantly, before being suddenly brought back, creating a tick faster than that of normal watches. She wanted to move forward, the second hand, at least touch the zenith, but she couldn't. She was stuck in the past, retracing her steps. It was tiny: it only served to indicate seconds, after all, such a tiny measure of time, and yet it managed to block minutes, hours, whole days in a whole mechanism. It only took a poor little needle to be paralyzed to make the whole machine useless.

Were this story not what it was, this is yet another one of those moments where the writing really shines. A shame the most unrelated things carry the greatest weight.

The assassin closed his eyes. He shifted the watch to a stack of letters - dizzying correspondence with a soldier - and finally focused on the case. What evidence to find there, basically? There were several reports there, extracts of hate speech against the Marquis de Sade, a piece of the Journal de Paris.

“We are tired of the old aristocrat's debauched escapades. Once again, his name is linked to depraved (and perhaps homicidal) activities near Les Halles. Can no one get rid of this national shame? "

The prosecution, despite the veracity of the words, managed to tear away a semblance of appeasement. He had participated in that investigation over there ... And he couldn't tell anyone. 

Hate speech? That's what this is, now? People have been arrested for less, like for a pug joke. Anyways, de Sade's writings were extreme to the point he had lettres des caches filed against him. Him landing in the Bastille was a walk in the park for all the prisons he ever went to. As said before, having sex with hookers back then wasn't illegal. It was what he did with them which made his reputation.

Arno doesn't care about none of those facts, though. What matters is the convenience of the case. He takes de Sade's side even without considering why de Sade was in prison in the first place. If he ever read his works - and I'm sure he did, since de Sade teases him about it - he'd understand. He doesn't, because the plot demands Arno remains ignorant so he can play fetch.

Dumas had also disappeared, feeling the growing disinterest in the young assassin. Henceforth, Arno found himself contemplating on the bank opposite a very strange group composed among others of Madame de Montreuil, Fouquier-Tinville, Judge Dubois and Fouché. Arno couldn't hear what these four colorful characters were saying to each other, but at the annoyed exclamation of their respective voices, Arno guessed that their subject of conversation was the same Marquis who occupied his thoughts every day.

Was this scene a metaphor for the monstrous cacophony that reigned in his mind? If Dumas had still been there, he would probably have added to the hidden reality of dreams. Perhaps others of his acquaintances were there.

This scene is one of your typical Dream Sequence clichés, where Arno later has a chat with the Marquis. Of course, this dream serves to alleviate all internal doubts. Why would Arno ever think twice of the accusations lodged against the Marquis? It's not his job to think, but to serve.

"There is the world outside. He's waiting for you. He's great, Arno."

"Is this dream to torment me? I'm going to wake up and you won't be there anymore."

"You have no idea who loves you."

"It was you who counted, Élise. "

This dream sequence has Élise telling Arno he has to move on, and encourages him to fall in love and accept the man who has interfered with his life and who constantly manipulates this. This cliché is deceptive in trying to sell the 'true love' trope, especially with a man who only wants Arno for his body and wants to tear apart his soul. It's not for love, mind you. It's for want and lust. After all, de Sade said he could never hope to compete with Élise, so the next best thing is to have the character be told in a dream sequence he'll always be loved and how he needs to move on. So much for a slow, natural burn!

"Live a little, Arno. "

A forehead landed on his. He could have felt Elise's breath on his lips with the closeness, but his dream didn't push vice so far; then he remembered it was because the dead weren't breathing.

Live a little, Arno.

"Arno? It's time ... Wake up, my love. Wake up. Arno? Arno ?! Arno! "

Ah, ain't that cute? de Sade is already calling Arno 'my love'. A surefire way to get him to love you back. And a tip from his dead girlfriend no less! Live a little, get tied up and raped. You're cute, you're just asking for it.

The young man jumped, suddenly straightening up in his chair. The Marquis was staring at him with a panicked expression that Arno had never seen him before. His spider fingers firmly gripped his shoulder (he must have shaken him while he slept) and his whole body was leaning towards him, tensed by he didn't know what. At the time, the assassin was tempted to repel the other man, even more put off by the physical rapprochement, until a sentence fell into his still sleeping ear:

The reason for this outburst sounds serious and must have sounded serious when the authors wrote it, but it ends being the complete opposite.

The two men exchanged the same look, suddenly surprised to be so frank. In the blink of an eye, Arno had activated Eagle's Vision.

There was blue and red mass under their feet. A great tide of ocean and blood was boiling on the ground floor, where the assassin succeeded in distinguishing some white or green silhouettes, notably that of Madame Gouze who was trying to fight valiantly against the flood of gendarmes which engulfed the Café -Theater. Immediately, Arno concentrated on the marble staircase leading to his room, only to find that two or three men were already rushing to the first floor, the first to disembark from a conquering caravel. 

Just imagine this for a second: you're housing a guy wanted by the law in a popular establishment under the guise the guards will never look in the least likely place. Second, this base is on top of the Assassin sanctuary. To have it stormed by guards and Templars would be one of the most concerning and dangerous things for the French Brotherhood as the Café sits directly above the sanctum (and security isn't that tight, as de Sade was allowed free reign there). I also have to wonder how on Earth Arno wouldn't hear the fighting going on. You'd have to be drugged or in deep REM sleep not to hear a sword fight and screaming in a building with little to no sound proofed walls. It is said fire alarms can't wake people in REM sleep, but human voices can. And screaming is a nice way to wake someone up.

Rid of his main weakness (very upset to admit it as such, but a civilian would only have slowed it down), Arno took a determined step towards the entrance to his apartments. His boots snapped coldly on the ground, and he heard the worried rumor of the customers through his sixth sense concerning this improvised search.

He's your main weakness but you'll still fuck him anyways, because of the Plot.

He was preceded by the three gendarmes who cascaded on the steps without being able to defend themselves; and as he stepped on the tiling, in front of the bruised bodies of the three unfortunates, all eyes fell on him. Facing him, in the extension of the corridor, several guards had taken the liberty of taking out their weapons to calm the paralyzed crowd. Only Madame Gouze, seeing him arrive, let out a sigh of relief.

"Who is responsible for this case?" asked the assassin in a crackling voice.

"These men came in and broke down the doors," cried the manageress, just as scandalized. They claim to be looking for a criminal! " 

This is a stunning example of a lack of foresight. Arno never anticipated gendarmes would've stormed the Café or whether rumours would fly since de Sade was staying there. While most of the employees weren't aware the Marquis was there, Madame Gouze was aware, and there are no secrets on Arno searching for de Sade's accusers. Instead of using the rumours to his advantage, they let them fester. This storming of the Café was predictable and avoidable. Everyone is aware Arno is 'distracted' by his guest, and it wouldn't take long to put two and two together. If the Directory is after him, it wouldn't bother them to send out street urchins to look for him. Of course the authors didn't think of this, because thinking ahead isn't in their repertoire.

"Release her!" he ordered dryly. I am the owner of this building, and I would not tolerate such humiliation. You have no official document proving your arrival, and I know my rights.

You don't really 'order' people to do things dryly. Ordering someone to do things normally involves raising your voice and making sure you are the dominant one in the room. Doing anything dryly suggests impatience or boredom, and Arno is neither in this situation.

"Citizen, you are suspected of harboring a depraved criminal just in your home," intervened one of the soldiers without dismounting.

"Who ?"

"You know him well, citizen. The Marquis de Sade is between your walls. "

The accusation, although direct, irritated him all the more. He hadn't gone all the way, all these sacrifices, to find himself deprived of weeks of research in a badly organized raid, and even less when he had sworn to succeed in what he had undertaken.

And whose fault is that? You didn't think ahead, Arno. This whole thing could have been avoided if you told de Sade he had to stay on the move. For the plot, he stayed with you, playing his little romance game. It's no shocker this happened. Hell, I expected it.

"You scared them away quickly. He watched, through the slightly dirty panes, the disorganized retreat of the fortnight in blue that had invaded the cafe. The latter seemed just as confused to have had to turn back without catch, like a wave retracted at sea before even having been able to run aground on the reef. " I'm appreciative. " 

Of course you would be. Arno is going out on a limb for you and you take pleasure in it how, in the end, he'll get on his knees and suck your cock.

"I know who's behind this. "

His tone was flat, but charged with a dull anger; that of being once again deceived, misled, when the answer should have been before his eyes - to believe that despite the years, he still did not learn his lesson.

(If he had known Germain the first time he saw him. If he had known ... )

Look, Germain fooled you because of his charm and charisma. Dubois fooled you because you interpreted his kindness and ignorance as a sign of timidity. This is all on you, Arno, and don't you forget it.

An overwhelming silence fell over the room. For a moment, Arno saw the weight of history weigh down on his shoulders big enough to receive him, and he looked at the man who turned his back on him from a whole new angle. Perhaps the thought of dying here had instilled in the Marquis greater restraint, or a suspension of his indecent actions; but he knew nothing of the too silent, too serious figure of the man always ready to laugh and to make up for hundreds of emotions so pleasant to play. 

Do you really? I don't think you do. Only when confronted with violence which can truly break him does de Sade even think of showing humility. Otherwise, he delights in taking pleasure at humiliating others. He took pleasure in humiliating and annoying Arno whenever he could, and still he has not apologized for looking through Élise's letters. I suppose Arno, like the authors, simply forgot.

It was a whole discussion by the look, in parallel with the words; as he stared at Sade, Arno felt a colossal earthquake shake his chest, so different from the one that could have cracked him when talking about his father. At that fateful moment, he saw a different respect appear in the eyes of the Marquis, who weighed the information with the gravity of a judge in court. To fulfill, Arno added:

"Revenge doesn't interest me."

"She never interested you, Arno. "

With these words, Sade revealed a smile tinged with melancholy that he could not understand. He felt admired in a strange way, as if he had just shown colossal virtue when the truth was that he had never been able to assert himself.

You really have to love this, being told by a man who lusts after you and gets insanely jealous at you speaking with men other than himself that the love of your love 'never interested you'. Another notch in the game where de Sade can denigrate Arno and bend him to his will. Of course, Arno does not resist, does not assert himself. He accepts it, the submissive boy that he is, and confess all this time de Sade interested him.

With a reflex almost inked in his skin, Arno couldn't help but clench his fists.

“Élise had the courage to want to wash her family name."

"I don't belittle her, Arno." Sade didn't let go of him for a second, caught in deeper contemplation than he would have thought. With each word, it was a surge of absolute calm in the room. “Human impulses do not need a court. "

Of course you're belittling her. She's been nothing but a stick up your ass and a roadblock in your way to Arno's heart. You happily bring her up to bring him down. You know what his reaction will be. You relish in it.

A man, a stone statue, unalterable, who for a few days had passed from the devil to the martyr.

Despite Madame Gouze telling de Sade he should apologize for the sins he's committed against Arno, it's conveniently forgotten because Arno sees him as a martyr anyways. Wow, I really do love this short-term memory Arno. He really will forgive anything if you force him to.

Arno didn't want to bury his friendship with him. It was a sudden and childish finding that had occurred to him, but he couldn't bring himself to grieve for this relationship. The slope on which he entered led to a gulf of solitude from which he feared he could no longer escape. Yes, really, it was a silly remark he was making to himself. He felt like he was constantly questioning his choices; to always question decisions, even those without the slightest consequence. The wrinkles that his eyes found on the Marquis's face perfectly represented the labyrinthine state of his mind.

Buddy. Buddy. This guy looked through your letters. Harassed you for having feelings for another guy (which is hamfisted as well, but I'm rolling with it as I said). Threatened to burn your letters and establishment because of his jealousy. Never apologized for going through your deceased love's letters, or bringing her up as a trump card, or constantly wondering where you are all hours of the day. Despite getting angry for him doing all of these things, you still consider him your friend. You are absolutely fucking bonkers, my friend. You cannot grieve what you don't have, yet here you are, grieving over a relationship with a man who does not love you, but wishes to sodomize you. 

Forgive, take revenge. Arno didn't like being the hero.

He might not like it, but he sure does like the mental merry-go-round this fucker is putting him on.

"I can hear you thinking. You can say it, you know. I would not be offended. I left my honor aside long ago. "

A sad smile, even more wrinkles, even more possibilities, even more paths to take. Arno was lost, without a star to guide him, and with his heart as the only compass.

This sadness is not genuine, nor are your emotions. You're guilt-tripping Arno and it seems to be working.

"… Huh?" "

A response that lives up to his clarity of mind. So he had definitely lost the North.

"... if you knew how ridiculous you were like that." The mocking snicker had lost all of its substance. "Don't pretend you don't understand ...

"I'm not pretending. I really do not see where you are coming from, besides I have already told you that speaking in riddles for any style effect was far from being my cup of tea, rather the opposite, it comes out through my eyes, so nobody can express themselves clearly in-"

'I'll play the victim so you have to pity me. Forget all I ever did or done to you. I know you love me, so if I pretend to be sad, you'll forgive me for my sins.'

"I have understood that my presence here is no longer desired. As soon as my sworn enemy is out of harm's way, I will leave, don't worry."

"But I don't want you to leave. "

Arno and his honesty. Legendary. We would fall in love with it. 

You are fucked, dude. I have no idea why these authors think this is logical. You don't go from rage, to hate, to despair, to love in the span of an instant. This isn't slow burn, this is McDonald's hot coffee set to scalding hot: all I'm getting is third-degree burns.

"Marquis. I was angry, that's right. Very, I imagine you understand why, but I never wanted to make you feel so rejected, I am de-"

"Born. Don't say that word, you'll regret it."

"I have to apologize for my behavior. "

...Are you kidding me?! Arno is apologizing? For what? He did nothing wrong, de Sade was in the wrong! He's apologizing for being angry at a conniving, rude, prodding asshole who is possessive and jealous and refuses to let Arno make his own decisions?! Jesus fucking Christ, man. This logic hurts.

You don't apologize for being wronged. The one who wronged you has to do it, which the Marquis never did. 

Sade ran a hand through his hair, sighing.

"You have nothing to honestly reproach yourself with."

"On the contrary-"

"Will you let me finish? The Marquis finally laughed real. “Knowing us, this conversation will lead to nothing. So there we are. No excuses for you, no dramatic start for me. "

The two men looked at each other shyly, without animosity. Arno was dancing on his feet, hesitant, like a child. Sade did not leave. Perfect. His cheeks shouldn't turn pink like that, but it was perfect. 

Arno, the wronged man, apologizes for someone else's mistake and hops up and down like a child. He truly is a lost cause. I have no idea why the authors think writing him like this makes him relatable. He's inconsistent, doesn't do his job, and doesn't plan ahead. Is it going to get any worse?

Oh, yeah. It's going to get far worse. In Chapter 12, Arno needs more than his blankie.

In his back, he could still hear rumors from customers on the ground floor, customers who intended to feed all the gossip in Paris following the violent altercation that had taken place in the building. By crossing the living room, the assassin had been able to meet Madame Gouze's gaze, and thereby understand all the concern that filled the manager's heart regarding her future actions.

But Arno was not an idiot. He was to erase the trace of judge Dubois. It was his last goal; after, everything would finally be over. 

1. Yes, you're an idiot. You never considered Dubois would do this because you didn't even run a background check on him. You merely assumed he was on your side. Big mistake.
2. No shit rumours are flying. A bunch of guards stormed your establishment and now everyone knows - even the Brotherhood - you kept the Marquis there. Room temperature IQ alert.

Dubois, despite the simplicity he gave himself, was not stupid. His first frontal attack had failed; we should have expected him to try his luck again in the days or even hours after he heard of his failure. This meant that we had to act quickly. But the man was locked in a tightly controlled administrative building, with hundreds of possible witnesses, and it was of course obvious that he would expect a backlash. Precaution was crucial. It was not a question of getting rid of a simple thorn in the foot. We had to ensure his victory in the long term. Sade had to be able to resume his Parisian activities without being worried about a recurrence. It was not to assassinate a man, but an entire organization: letters of condemnation had to be deleted, 

You ever think about going after the guy when he isn't holed up in the courthouse? Like finding out where he eats, sleeps, drinks, even takes a shit? You didn't think of this before, and you aren't thinking about it now. Dubois got a head start on you because you didn't anticipate him remembering your face. Not every day you go to a guy in a civil court, ask about the Marquis de Sade, and expect an honest answer. Judges have to be persuaded to give solid answers. Many of them were lawyers, you know.

Undeniable observation, he needed a disguise. He couldn't introduce himself again as Arno Dorian, investigating the Marquis de Sade, opposite Dubois. 

This isn't the era of Ezio Auditore, where you could announce who you are and get results. Arno gave his real name, of course he'd get shit. You get shit thrown back when you play in the pig pen, boyo.

Second observation, he needed a diversion. A diversionary body, preferably. Some individuals who would help him plead his case and go unnoticed. There were obviously his former murderer colleagues, who sent him a letter or two from time to time; old working relationships, but nothing to assure him that he could tell them about the Marquis. After all, if Sade seemed to sympathize with the murderous ideology, he was not known for the clarity of his actions. He doubted that the Council would agree to put some of its personnel at the service of the head of such a man. 

As if they didn't know beforehand who was sitting in your rooms, Arno. Rumours fly fast when you're an Assassin. Besides, Madame Gouze thought it'd be a brilliant idea for him to wander around the Sanctuary.

In addition, Arno did not see himself resorting to Dumas. If the general now had much more authority than before, his proximity (although forced) with Bonaparte was too compromising. Dumas was still too unstable in his ranks - it was too great a service to ask him for such a commitment. And what about the way in which his last interview with the Corsican general ended ... 

Is he, though? Or is it because he'd tattle on Bonaparte about your little fling with the Marquis? Your last interview ended so badly because you were expecting Napoleon to get on his knees and suck you off. You didn't even bother to tell him you were investigating something and needed his help. You spun it into a DeGrassi plot because you're a stereotypical bitchy bisexual man. Next you'll be singing me 'Careless Whispers'.

Vidocq's voice suddenly brought him out of his introspection; turning his head, he saw him shrug his shoulders nonchalantly. His response was final.

"It's no . And besides, I would need a whole group to coordinate, not a single accomplice. "

Vidocq tells him he needs a distraction to get to the building he needs to go to to destroy evidence against de Sade. Instead of accepting the offer, Arno denies it, and instead has a ghostly conversation with Élise, because why not? No point in being practical. Just be difficult!

"I don't know what this fool has in mind, but it is out of the question that I participate in any business on your part."

"I have done you a favor in the past," Arno replied without dismounting. I'm just asking for a favor."

"A favor ? You are asking me to delegate fifteen police officers under your orders, and without reason!"

Why, exactly, do you need 15 cops to help you gather information when you had no issue doing it by yourself before? Fuck it, just draw more attention to yourself. Show your incompetence by announcing to the world you're making the Marquis de Sade innocent in the eyes of the French public!

Bewildered, the assassin barely had time to brandish his sword and push the reckless behind his back to protect him. Lapparent had pushed back his chair, his hand on the guard of his own rapier, his face twisted with anger; and now, Arno had to admit, there was little chance that the man would remain insensitive to their intervention. 

I have no idea why people are throwing grenades in a jail cell, but they're throwing grenades in a jail cell.

All the times he had visited the small prison had always given him the same impression: that of hitting a huge wall, straight, austere, and incredibly stubborn . Glancing at Vidocq, who seemed more annoyed than destabilized by the refusal, he briefly wondered which of the two should be the most difficult to endure on a daily basis.

Of all the people he had kept in touch with, of course, it had to be the two most stubborn that his fate depended on. Wonderful.

You didn't have to include them. They came to you first. Vidocq offered to help you, you took it, and now you realize all of it was for nothing. Sounds like me reading this fic. Everyone is acting like a total fucktard, throwing grenades in jail cells and threatening to burn down coffeehouses. Man I love this romance.

The latter attracted two incredulous glances, but remained stoic. Faced with this childish attitude that a few francs could erase, Arno forced himself to keep a severe, almost contemptuous face, a face he had often seen at the Tuileries and which commanded respect. Attention quickly turned to the money, which the caretaker weighed with brand new caution under the palpable jealousy of Vidocq, and he was unable to say whether this change in attitude was due to the austere expression that he had taken. 

You could've used the bribe money beforehand, especially if you know how Lapperent acts. You didn't, and instead allowed Vidocq to create a scene. Why? Well because it's funny, dontchaknow.

Chapter 13 has more blankies and marshmellows, and come to find out the authors worked on this for months:

Was it a stupid plan? Yes. Without a doubt. To destroy archives was to put history on its back. And the government, by the way, even if the latter idea didn't bother him more than that. To eliminate a whole network of criminals was to put Paris on the back. After all, the vermin in the sewers remained the children of the capital, bastards whom she continued to cherish despite their crimes. 

If this story didn't scream 'stupid,' I'd roll with it as I would 'The Hangover'. There is stupid humour done with taste, and then there's just fucking stupid. This is the latter. More so since every choice is deliberately the worst one. And we're not finding Doug anytime soon.

And an assassin leading a group of law enforcement officials was hilarious. Really . Entering private property that was not his through the door and not through the window was a first for Arno. He just had to follow the little troop - into which Vidocq had infiltrated, in his oversized guard costume, a huge smile on his lips, which Arno obviously did not know - in the entrance and s escape into a nearby room under the watchful eye of the servants who no longer knew where to turn. 

Assassins are meant to hide in plain sight. That's the purpose of the Creed. What do you mean this was his 'first time' entering private property? He's entered buildings all the time without anyone ever knowing even before he was an Assassin. He's also dressed as an Assassin leading a bunch of cops to find a corrupt judge. Oh yeah. Hiding in plain sight. Hilarious indeed.

"You could have knocked, assassin." "

The judge was perfectly calm, leaning on his desk. The haggard expression he had touched on when they first met was in total contrast to the cold wall in front of him. Dubois did not tremble, did not begin to beg as his targets used to do; no, he was writing quietly and calmly, and Arno was all the more pissed off.

"I was in a hurry, judge," he replied, closing the door.

This whole thing could have been avoided had Arno done a background check. No, really. Had he peered a little more into Dubois' life he would have found the truth.

The judge shrugged stupidly, not sorry for a penny, as the library opened with a crash behind him. Fortunately, Arno was not trapped, but the situation in which he remained remained delicate. There were four men, numerical superiority already representing a disadvantage, but in addition he absolutely had to keep an eye on the judge, ensuring that he did not take advantage of it to escape.

Pretty sure Arno has fought against larger numbers before. This wouldn't concern him. And in such cramped spaces, it would be hard for Dubois to escape, as well.

His first reflex was to block the door by which he had come after the entrance of his attackers, placing himself so that no one could take this exit. By saving time, the gendarmes on the first floor could hurry to come and help him. Unfortunately, there remained the window and the balcony, but Arno could hardly see this little Dubois gringalet climbing the walls with his aristocratic hands. 

But by blocking the exit, no one can came and save you. Are you really thinking ahead, here? You're not saving time, you're extending it.

My guess is the authors didn't choreograph this in their head.

His sword hissed against another; Dubois remained in the background, rummaging through his drawers, probably looking for an emergency firearm. Arno knocked over a shelf on the guy to his right, causing his brutal encounter with the ground and unconsciousness. His other assailant attacked him again with his blade - blunt, it had to be said - attack which Arno appeared with ease, despite the rush and chaos that reigned in the small room.

So, we know the room is small. We know the room is surrounded by bookcases. In such cramped quarters, Arno knocks over a bookshelf, potentially locking himself in the room along with his assailants. Therefore, no one can come to help him, and, Dubois can't really escape.

 When his second enemy was on the ground, those remaining took the opportunity to take him in pincers, with a determined Dubois pointing a pistol directly straight at his forehead - an idiotic act, when he could have thrown himself towards his hidden exit, far away of the presence of mind that Bonaparte had when they first met. With a reflex too quick for mere bodyguards, Arno broke a smoke that spread its contents throughout the office. Taking advantage of the confusion, he knocked out the two idiots against each other by grabbing them by the nape of the neck, forehead against forehead, and advanced towards Dubois who was pulling in the middle of the void, clinging desperately to the thin thread that was his life.

Arno manages to throw a smoke bomb now, when he didn't think of throwing one earlier. In such small spaces, it'd be mightily effective. You gave Dubois the window of opportunity. If you knew he'd try going for his gun instead of the exit, you should have gone after him first.

Again, not very well choreographed. Fight scenes should have them in order for them to be orderly. It's the same with acting: everything has to be blocked and scenes mapped out. Otherwise, it becomes a mess of confusion.

"You are making a terrible mistake, Mr. Dorian. I am a respected judge, even admired! If you kill me ..."

"Judges are replacing quickly in our time, you know. "

Dubois raised an eyebrow, clearly offended. Now that the smoke had dissipated, he was staring at him with intense contempt.

Ah, the 'Terrible Mistake' cliché. Nothing like a typical arch-villain monologue to really hammer the severity of the situation!

"All that for a depraved!" He threw his weapon on the ground, useless since empty of any bullet. "Why do you persist in protecting this criminal?"

"What do you want, I have always had a particular attraction for outlaws. "

Arno answered frankly, relaxed in a strange way. Whereas two years ago, he had had no composure in the basement of the Temple, he was now facing his target without blinking. Dubois seemed to forget that he was on the verge of death. 

Even I don't know why Arno is still covering for de Sade. There have been no answers, not even a clue as to why any of this is happening. Of course, Arno has to say he has an 'attraction' to outlaws. He was the one who apologized, not de Sade for his wrongdoings against Arno. Why should de Sade apologize? He's just playing the victim, the martyr.

BTW, Arno was facing down a Sword of Eden, literally a sword which shot lightning. A fat judge with a gun is nothing.

"I don't care about your money. I'm just tired of being snatched from the few relatives I have left. "

Dubois's eyes widened, suffocating from the grip that pulled on his collar. One of his hands clung desperately to the edge of his secretary and scratched him with his nails.

"You ... And Sade ...?" You can not... " 

Yes, Arno is being dead serious. He's in love with the man who's given him so much trouble. Why? I don't know, I'd be better off getting deals from Trivago.

The archives he had accumulated under his arm were colossal; pages and pages of accusations, even insults towards the Marquis, sometimes justified, but most often motivated by visceral hatred against his person. Luckily, the judge was - well, had been - an ordained man who kept his productions only in his logical places; Arno quickly found himself in front of the hearth of a fireplace, throwing the demon's papers one by one in the mouth of the Underworld. 

Are...you shocked? You shouldn't be. That's well over twenty years of accusations. I still have no idea why Arno doesn't know anything in regards to de Sade. It's unnerving, and it says a lot about his characterizations. A classic, 'Lol, I dunno' archetype.

Arno did not have time to think more, or to complain about elsewhere, when he was dying of envy; his legs rushed on their own to the entrance he had left about twenty minutes earlier.

Here the fight was raging; a melee like we saw on the battlefield.

And in the middle of it all, the Marquis.

From Sade.

Weapon in hand.

Juuuuuuuuuuuuuust when I thought it couldn't get any worse.

The Marquis, moreover, probably not having any more ammunition, amused himself by throwing everything that came to hand - namely cups, stools, glasses and pass - on all those who wanted his skin.

Arno was forced to tear himself away from this incredible vision; other enemies fell on him again and again. His muscles were starting to hurt him, his sword felt heavy and his back was screaming at him to stop. The man in front of him was pulling his limits, pushing him to the edge of the precipice with each new attack. He was probably one of the last standing - the cacophony of the fighting had calmed down - but, worthy of a bad adventure novel, this final confrontation gave him a hell of a hard time.

'Worthy of a bad adventure novel'. I'll say. Where did de Sade come from?

Arno's wrist was on fire, and he couldn't find an opening.

His assailant was experienced and above all full of energy that he no longer had. When a well placed boot made him lose his sword, Arno realized he was at an impasse.

A very bad dead end.

There were few options open to him; he could not use his secret blade because the situation did not lend itself to it; he could not control his enemy with his bare hands because their difference in build did not allow it; drawing his gun would take too long, seconds were counted and- 

Arno has no issue using his Hidden Blade in other fights, and he has no issue fighting men who are larger than him. He's tired from being distracted by de Sade. That's it. He spent no energy knocking bookcases on guy in a small room, and now he's getting bum-rushed and suddenly he's tired. Good to know.

And the man took a vase. A huge porcelain vase, which broke right in the middle of his scowl.

Bewildered, Arno turned quickly, and it was an equally breathless Marquis who stood before him. Their breasts, rising archaically, almost touched. Arno wanted to speak, but he didn't know what to say.  

"I ... you ...?"

"I know, I shouldn't be here. But I thought that a little help would not be refused, so ... I came. " 

I think 'their chests' was the word used, so when the translation comes out as 'breasts' I have to laugh. Emergency vase saves the day.

And yes, de Sade came. He'll be coming somewhere else, too.

"Come on, you still didn't think I was going to use the sword. You're the protagonist, Arno." Sade cracked the same grin, but the sparkle in his eyes was real. No masks. "I am only a secondary character in this whole fresco."

"I thought you were the writer."

"Who keeps me from being both? "

No, I don't think Arno is the protagonist here. He's been a reactive element, apologizing for things he never had to apologize for, and being the slave of a guy who's done whatever he can to seduce him. Guess what? It worked. It fucking worked. Arno's a sex slave. Always has been, he just had to admit it.

The Marquis reached out without taking his eyes off him. The palm seemed to be waiting to be squeezed, but how the crucial question remained. When the assassin held out his to drop it there, his forearm was caught as in the talons of a bird of prey - Arno could have pushed the vice and compared the catch to that of an eagle. From a distance, the contact could have passed for usual, but the mouth of Sade took advantage of it to approach his ear in order to ask only one thing:

"Are you coming with me, Mr. Dorian?" 

Nothing like having an intimate moment with another guy in the middle of a fight. Even when straight couples do it, I have to yell at the screen: 'Now, out of all times?!' It just doesn't mesh.

Arno smiled a little more, rolling his eyes before lowering them to the ground.

"The play is over, Marquis. I fear that you will no longer need my services. "

He thought he felt the other's heart swell with joy at this ridiculous use of the fake, of these role-playing games that he loved too much. As if the world, in the end, was constantly a comedy that had to be played.

"You know I wouldn't do without it for the world." "

Oh, my my my. But the play isn't over until someone is spread eagle on a bed with a belt around his neck. This whole time, Arno has never enjoyed this role-playing games. Suddenly, he decides he likes them and that he likes de Sade after 'everything' they've been through.

Yeah, you're fooling nobody. I'd like to throw out this ice cream, please. It's got freezer burn.

"So ... The play is over, you said? "

The Marquis tightens his grip on Arno's thighs, pushing him a little more into the mattress. A half-weary, half-amused sigh escaped the assassin's lips as he rolled his eyes, far from being disturbed by the position in which he was. On the contrary, one of his hands slipped between their two bodies to grab the shirt collar of the Marquis, drawing him a little more against him - if it were still possible, as they were stuck together other.

Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeere we go. The sex scene. I gotta admit, it's been sold with no preamble: Arno has gone from being irritated, to frustrated, to openly hating de Sade for what he's done, to now spreading his legs and letting him cop a feel because their 'play' is over. This romance was based on manipulation. You cannot convince me otherwise. There is no way a normal person would see this as healthy or the budding of a genuine relationship. This was pure trickery and sexual coercion on de Sade's part. He got what he wanted: Arno's anal virginity.

"You never stop."

"These lips must be used for something ... "

Laughing, Arno threw his head back, his smile widening as he tried to contain the twitch of his shoulders. The Marquis did not say a word, but he reveled in seeing such joy light up the face of his beloved protege.

He did not know what took him; his body escaped him for a moment, a fraction of a second when his heart took over, and he came to caress Arno's cheek in a particularly tender, particularly sincere gesture, almost too much for him.

Arno was neither shocked nor surprised; the pink on his face was accentuated just a little more.

I don't like using the term 'problematic', but this is a case where it fits perfectly. Under no circumstances was this romance organic or wholesome. All of this plays into de Sade's hands. Arno is 'beloved' by de Sade, but Arno does not feel the same - not initially, at least. Now he decides he's in love because what's the point in saying no?

Arno took the Marquis's hand in his and intertwined their fingers - it felt very new and very strange to have a palm so warm against his.

"Admit it."

"What ?"

" You love Me. "

Not love. Obsession. Arno has deduced the Marquis is in love with him, despite the feelings being unrequited in the previous chapters. You can't tell me Arno has suddenly decided he loves this man. All other signs were that Arno was annoyed and angered by de Sade's scandalous behaviour in his room and his insulting regard towards Élise's letters. The man who wondered how he could ever compete is now the object of desire from an Assassin.

"Why always pretend that you don't care about everything when reality proves the opposite?"

"I do not…"

"This way you all have to hide your feelings ... It's useless and tiring. If I wanted to fall victim to a wall, I would have."

"Yet it is a debauched writer that you have chosen. "

There was no 'choosing' here. Arno showed no signs of love or admiration towards de Sade. This was forced. You cannot tell me a man who still has no apologized for the wrongs he committed against Arno is suddenly forgiven and loved. All the conflict is forgiven on a whim. This isn't how romance works. This is an obsessive relationship hammered through as wholesome. 

His expression prey to a slight nervousness relaxed immediately. The Marquis had used his other hand to support his head, watching Arno with a tender smile wandering over his lips. He was caught at his own game, this idiot.

“Indeed, it was a debauched writer that I chose." He straightened slightly, bringing his mouth dangerously close to that of the Marquis. "Besides, you don't need to answer my question. I already have all the confirmations I needed. "

A debauched writer convicted of assaulting prostitutes and underage girls and possibly boys with his sexual cruelty. A fact you seemed to forget when trying to clear his name, Arno. You 'chose' him, when all other moments this man annoyed you to rage. You 'chose' him because you gave up on your frustrations. This isn't a confession of feelings. It's a 'I can't fight anymore, so why not give in?' stance.

The Marquis did not give the impetus. It was Arno who pulled the cervix closer until his mouth touched another. A small innocuous gesture, basically, but enormously revealing; because Sade never left anyone in control - or did he just give him the illusion? There weren't many seconds before the contact intensified. Eyes closed, Arno felt his heart pulsating to the tips of his fingers, intertwined with those of the writer who returned the same pressure. 

That's the whole point: de Sade never lets go or lets someone else have control. It always has to be about him: his desires, his sexual pleasure, his lust. He doesn't consider Arno as a genuine lover, but as someone who must be conquered and made to submit. Arno, being the idiotic dog he is, goes along with it.

It was a strange thing. A weight had really taken off from his chest, as if after endless months of dragging an ankle ball, Arno was again able to run again. He now felt that he was capable of living on all his stature, setting off without being held back by the ties of the past; in the middle of the kiss, his thoughts were shattered as fast as wheat in a mill. He thought of everything at the same time, places, actions and moments. How, from Saint-Denis to Paris, by simple diligence and cutthroat words, he found himself there, in his apartments, with a man who had never stopped making him semi-serious advances. How, among the multitude of faces which had accompanied him, some had remained and others not. 

You'll never live on your own two feet, Arno. That ball and chain was put there on purpose by de Sade. He knew with enough pressure, you'd submit. You're kissing him, confessing your love, when before you felt no love. You knew he never stopped making sexual advances you never wanted. You merely submitted for convenience. It wasn't your choice. Nothing was.

When Sade broke the kiss, just long enough to whisper something in his ear - three little words that made him smile, almost nothing and almost everything - Arno knew he had just mourned at his feet. That he was going away now, without forgetting all that there had been before, without forgetting what was still waiting for him, to the west, towards the Tuileries. The suit in red and black, a floor above his head, he would probably burn it tomorrow, and maybe Sade would raise his glass of wine with a small smile lit by the flames, in the Court of Miracles . The Court of Miracles that he would come back to survey, with his thieves and human baseness, the prestigious and political buildings he would relearn to know; a whole reunion with Paris, in the end.

How convenient Arno wishes to burn all the outfits he ever achieved, even Shay's. I thought it wasn't about revenge.

This whole time de Sade could have gone back to the Cours des Miracles, but chose not to. Why? For the plot. Does it make sense? No. Does it have to? Not to these two. They spent hours over 18th century Parisian maps, dontchaknow. 

"My dear Arno Dorian," Sade whispered in his ear. Welcome to your apotheosis. " 

More like, 'Welcome to a world where you'll do nothing but beg for my come'. Sounds cheesy, but it's what de Sade has wanted this entire time.

Chapter 14, the ending which supposedly wraps everything up, has this tidbit:

“The return trip was particularly long, I imagine."

"Endless, in every way possible and unimaginable. He glanced wearily at the sleepiest of the three, then turned his attention back to Arno. "But it was time to go back. He would never have lasted another week. "

Dumas did not say the word without you burning his lips, nevertheless Arno understood the message. His hand went to stay on the general's shoulder, in the place that had always been reserved for him.

Now this is something. In this story, it is implied Napoleon and Arno had a sexual relationship which ended badly, as evidenced by the catty interactions these two had when it came to Arno requesting help. Napoleon made it clear Arno was not wanted, and yet here he is, still seeking Arno's presence. These guys can't decide on what they want. They're worse than 16-year-olds.

The story ends with a final chat from Dumas. It doesn't achieve much, though I will say Dumas was the most interesting character in this fic. Hell, he stole the show. When it comes to everything else, though, my thoughts are obvious.

Aside from the snippets in which I praise the writing for capturing Arno's character, the rest crumbles apart like bad cheese. de Sade and Arno had no true relationship; it was completely forced. We went from completely justified rage towards de Sade to Arno making de Sade confess he is in love with him. Not only were the bridges burned, the foundations were ripped up and everyone got the Bends. de Sade did many things abominable, and Arno, instead of remembering what he had done, apologized on his behalf and saw it as his fault.

There's 'blaming the victim', and there's the person who was wronged seeing themselves as the cause for said wrong. Arno had no right to apologize on behalf of de Sade; de Sade was the one who had to apologize. He never did. The authors expect me to believe these two lovebirds will make love all night long, with this play of emotions a testament to their passion for one another. They might have fooled their audience, but not me. The red flags were all there.

There is no loving someone who sexually coerces you, who constantly sexually harasses you and gets you to think you wanted it all along. That always happens in these de Sade/Arno stories. No one bothers to call it out, though they will call it out for heterosexual pairings. I do not care who loves whom; sexual coercion isn't love, nor is it sex. No amount of adding one-sided love will convince me otherwise.

In regards to the plot and general story - well, there was none. I still have no idea why de Sade was wanted by Templars or why he never went to his estates in the countryside. I don't know why the Directory wanted him. I don't know why Arno never used his analytical skills (he sure did use his anal skills, though) to deduce Dubois was untrustworthy and would go after him. I don't know why Arno used his real name and showed his face to a clearly corrupt judge. I don't know why Arno never bothered looking into why de Sade was being accused of his crimes. He simply assumed they were false. He never investigated further; he simply trashed de Sade's accusers as jealous liars.

Arno once again becomes an unthinking doormat. He never makes his own choices, never uses his mind, and most of all, decides constant sexual harassment equals love. I don't think the authors even remembered what their plot was, so all these plot thread are left unwound. The whole thing could have been avoided had de Sade remained in the shadows, using rumours to his advantage. There was no need for him to go to the Café or the orphanage - which, by the way, it was nice of Arno to forget the open threat de Sade made against Léon. Or the internal monologues on how de Sade was willing to take Arno by force if he didn't submit to him. Or how jealous he was he had consensual relationships with others.

How could he ever compare to the love of Arno's life? Well, force him to accept constant sexual harassment is love, that sneaking into the apartments of the future Emperor of France of throwing a bitch fit works, that ignoring a threat against your adopted brother is OK, and allowing a guy into the Assassin Sanctuary is a pretty good idea, that's what.

There was no sex in this story. But there is in a spin-off, floating wine. There, Arno learns 'If I force myself on you enough, you'll accept me' is valid, and he learns to accept being invaded.

There's nothing like BDSM with rape. I thought it was all about consent. Where are all the consent pushers now? Giving one-sentence snarky responses to criticism, that's what.