So, some notes on WDRSBN (as of April 2017).

First off, this fic was co-written as a roleplay first between myself and Shaerahaek(alternatively Rhydwin on AO3).

Secondly, both Shae and I have done art for this fic(in fact, Shae did some art first, then we started talking, then we wrote this). You can find all art related to WDRSBN on Deviantart here: http *colon* / / fav *dot* me / d9m063a

Third, White Demon, Red Scribe, Black Nightmare is a multi-part series with multiple connected stories, though this is the main one where most of the events happen(the others are a lot shorter). The series goes in the order as follows:

1. The Apprentice Bookkeeper and Devil's Fledgling (One-shot, complete)
2. White Demon, Red Scribe, Black Nightmare (43 Chapters, You Are Here, complete)
3. WDRSBN Drabbles: Fallen (3 Chapters, complete)
4. WDRSBN Bookman Afterstory (One-shot, complete)
5. Bloody Clowns and Tumbleweeds (One-shot, to-be-written)
6. Clockwork Augurer (One-shot, to-be-written)

Fourth, if you didn't already know, Shae and I are also working on another D Gray-Man Crossover AU called Of Swindlers, Butchers, and Wyrms - in which Lavi is a thief, Kanda an assassin, and Allen a dragon, which is posted on Shae's account, so you'll have to go there to read it :3 There is art for that by both of us as well, collectively listed on the same Deviantart page as the one for art of WDRSBN.

Anyway, we hope you enjoy this series, and any others we work on in the coming future!

White Demon, Red Scribe
A D Gray-Man and Assassin's Creed Revelations Crossover

A red-haired young man yawned and stretched his arms high over his head, trying to work some of the stiffness out of his shoulders as he leaned back in his seat, tilting precariously on the chair's back legs. To most, in light of the rolling pitch of the ship, this would probably be seen as a bad idea, but he managed to keep from falling backwards and instead glanced over the page of a book that lay splayed out in front of him – his own record log, scribbled by his own hand.

My, how far he'd traveled… he was going to need a new book soon, despite that he'd only just gotten this one in Azerbaijan perhaps a month earlier. Carrying it to one of the various hidden libraries of his clan was going to be annoying, especially when he amassed more books.

"Maybe I should cut back a little," he mused to himself. "There really is such a thing as too much detail." But damn if he wasn't thorough in his work! So sure, he didn't appear to always take his job as seriously as he should, but he was ranking high enough to fly solo now. He had to be doing something right that his old man was trusting him on his own, finally, though it still felt a little weird to the mixed-Asian. Most of his life and through his entire apprenticeship, he could remember tagging along at his Gramp's heels, learning the ways of the Bookmen, following orders. Now he was freer than ever to make his own calls and seek out his own records, and it just seemed… odd.

He wasn't complaining though. It was nice not to have to mind himself as much around the old stiff, or get knocked over the head when he made a mistake, or just decided he wanted to tease someone to cure boredom.

"It's probably about time," he realized suddenly, his memory kicking in. They should be arriving at port right about now, the red-head packing up his odds and ends into a sizeable bag, and slinging them over his shoulder.

It was almost hard not to feel somewhat nostalgic. Pretty soon he'd be seeing a face that he hadn't laid eyes on in ages. Not since his mentor had pulled him away to do the work of his clan elsewhere.

He'd seen a lot in those passing years, some that he might have liked to forget, if he were the emotionally swayed type. A city overtaken and newly remade into a Capitol - Tabriz, Iran, 1501, he recalled – then there had been a terrible massacre of nearly 4,000 Portuguese Jews over religious bigotry - Lisbon, Portugal, 1506 - and the man known to have discovered another way to what might have been India and might have been some place entirely new had died - Christopher Columbus… that was his name, right? - and then there had been the invasion and occupation of India by the Portuguese military - 1510 - so it had been quite a number of years. Too many, were his opinion to matter at all on the subject.

Finally he was heading westward again, and it seemed like there were some interesting events starting to unfold in Istanbul. Of course the Ottoman were no new group to the world, but it seemed they were struggling to gain greater power as of late, snuffing out the fading Byzantines.

More personally interesting, however, was the rumors he had heard on the Turkish roads heading in that general direction already anyway, whispers of a "white demon". Of course he had heard the term in more than one place before, to refer to more than one thing, but more details on the rumor assured him that it referred to one thing – no. One person in particular – whom he was very much interested in seeing.

At any rate, he knew that there was a branch of that person's affiliates stationed in Istanbul, so even if he wasn't there, the redhead was sure he could at least find information on where that person might be found.

He wondered which alias to go with. It had changed again since they had seen each other, as it did with every mission his clan assigned him to, with none really being his 'name'. In all truth, he had no name. It was the custom of their clan.

Which alias had he been going by when they'd last seen each other…?

Lavi.

That sounded right. He smiled in reminiscence. It had definitely been a long time since he'd gone by that name. He supposed it was only fitting to go by it again, since that was the one he was known by to that individual.

Stepping onto the topside deck, he watched contently as it pulled into port. He briefly said his goodbyes to those on deck that he'd become acquainted with, especially the ship's navigator who he'd had a wonderful time making friendly bets over who could navigate by the stars better, then made his way across the dock and into the streets.

Figures sitting near the dock eyed him, and more precisely, the sizeable bag he carried, but he merely returned their stares with a smile and a nod, acknowledging them while more discreetly making it clear that he saw them, so it would be less wise to try taking his things when he knew their faces clearly.

Merchants shouted and tried to finagle him into buying their wares, but he had little interest in them. Not for the sake of his clan's records, since they sometimes stored items from places and time periods as well as information, nor for his personal interest.

"Now then, white demon… white demon…" he hummed thoughtfully under his breath, lost to most of the noises of activity that filled the busy streets. "Where exactly might you be?"

Of course "Lavi" never expected for the infamous "white demon" to just come falling out of the sky… - or maybe he did, what with the Assassins' lifestyle of roof-climbing and acrobatics, it was always a possibility, merely an unlikely one – but he was somewhat disappointed not to immediately find the white-haired young man as he scoured the streets. He figured he would have spied something by now, even were the figure hiding somewhere in the crowds. Assassins were good at that, but Lavi's keen eye was better. Nothing escaped his attention, especially not when he was actually looking for something, and he knew the tell-tale beak-pointed hoods well.

He'd decided on finding a place to eat first. Taverns usually held a wealth of interesting information if one only knew how to pry it out of the lips of a barkeeper or other fellows within, and he'd been in and out of enough establishments to know how to play the information game.

He managed to get an adequate meal, and a small bit of information off of the bar-maid, who'd been willing to give up some of what she knew after a little bit of vocally flirtatious banter and a few charming smiles. That was one of the few things that he excelled at more than anything. He could by quite charismatic if he did say so himself, when it became necessary.

It seemed as if his quarry had been hopping around one place to another in town, mostly brothels, but basically anywhere that there was women and drink. Apparently the one Lavi was hunting was hunting for someone else. What was most reassuring though was that the other young man was definitely in town, which meant the red-head wasn't wasting his time looking for him in Istanbul. That was always a relief.

With a few more charmingly witty remarks and a thank-you, Lavi was on his way again, taking to the streets, which only seemed busier than ever.

He wondered where to search next. Should he try asking at some of the brothels, first? The ones he'd heard the person of interest had already visited. Or maybe he should stake out one of the ones he supposedly hadn't and just wait for him to show? Of course information was only so reliable and word only traveled so fast. He could just end up staking out a location the white-haired male had already visited, or just didn't plan to visit at all, and they'd miss each other. That would be more than unfortunate.

He paused, both in step and thought process, as he thought he caught a glimpse of something familiar, even though his mind had been distracted. After a moment, he smiled. So it wasn't the white eagle hood he'd been looking for, but it was a white eagle hood, and that was better than nothing.

At first he just tailed them through the crowd, though he wasn't trying very hard – entirely on purpose – to conceal himself and it didn't take long for them to notice him, stepping somewhere off to the side where Lavi followed, making it a point to show that he was friendly, going on to explain himself and who he was looking for, before sending the man on his way.

The Assassin hadn't felt comfortable in showing him where their local headquarters was located, not being familiar with him or his clan enough to fully trust him as an ally yet, but it was easy enough to arrange a rendezvous. He had to give the guy some credit, he was wise not to be so quick to give away their hiding-place, but then the Assassins weren't known for stupidity. You needed to be smart for the kind of job they did, and survive while doing it, not only individually but as a group.

It wasn't any skin off his back though. He was patient, and didn't mind waiting. Not too badly at any rate. Not when the pay-off was worth the wait.

"Ladies, please!" Allen chuckled nervously as he tried to spin out of the grasp of several giggling women. "I sincerely regret not staying with you longer, but duty calls," he said, flashing them a bright smile, still attempting to pry off their inappropriately grabby hands.

They talked and cooed and flirted with him, trying very hard to seduce him back inside but Allen held his ground, apologizing and promising to come back another time. He really didn't have the time for this.

Dashing though the street, only turning around for a quick wave and another stiff, yet very bright smile to appease the pouty women he was leaving behind, he mentally counted the brothels he still hasn't visited. Allen always wondered what made him keep looking for that man even despite everything he had to go through when he was taken under his wing. Sometimes he told himself it's the guilt, regret even – that he couldn't return his master's kindness-

No, kindness was not the word. Definitely not. But he still took him in.

He slowly came to a stop, taking in a deep breath to calm his racing heart. He ducked into an alley and leaned against a very familiar door, bumping his head a few times to clear his buzzing mind. Hearing the sounds of laughter from inside, Allen smiled to himself.

It was not guilt that made him keep looking for that blasted man. It was curiosity.

He opened the door and stepped in. The onslaught of many different aromas almost made him dizzy but he brushed that off with a few coughs and laughter.

"Just what are you doing here?" he called, slamming the door behind him. The answer came from all the directions at once. The men inside cheered, raising their cups and laughing, prodding him to join them.

"We looted a new kind of tobacco from the Byzantines today! Come and taste the fruits of our mission!" one of the assassins called, gesturing to him to sit down.

Allen smiled and made himself comfortable on the cushions, grabbing the pipe that was being offered to him and took a drag. He's been working all the week, so a little time off won't hurt anyway. After all, it has been a long time since he felt so at home. And it has been a while since he laughed so freely.

After some time, a newly arrived fellow assassin approached and lightly tapped him on the shoulder to gain his attention.

"There's a man in town with reddish hair looking for you. I've never seen him before, but he says he knows you well," he reported quietly. "I had him wait to rendezvous in town."

Allen took a long drag from the pipe.

Could it be him? But it made no sense! It couldn't be his master - he would definitely not send someone to fetch him. A shiver ran down his spine. It isn't him... but then, who else? Who else would look for him in Istanbul now? Red haired, red haired...

"Are you alright, arkadas?" the assassin asked, unintentionally attracting some extra attention.

"Evet, don't worry," Allen said, mentally cursing at how uncertain his voice sounded. A single glance at the other man told him that he thought the same.

"I can go with you. If the foreigner turns out to be dangerous I can back you up," the man offered. "It is not like you couldn't handle him, of course..." he stammered, suddenly seeming unsure. Allen chuckled as he took another drag from the pipe.

"It's alright. Thank you for letting me know. Rest now and enjoy the fun. I only need to know where I should be meeting this man." He stood up. Not noticing the frowns his friends exchanged, Allen drowned his cup of coffee and graced them with his best you-have-nothing-to-worry-about smile.

The white-haired male sighed when he exited the den, not willing to let his mind wonder just yet. He sprinted against the opposite wall, jumping up and to the side to catch the edge of the lowest roof, he hauled himself up just in time to see the other assassin sneak out and carefully look around. Of course he wouldn't stay put. It was funny actually – how much they trusted and cared about him, even though they knew what happened to him in Italy. Shaking his head a fighting back a sigh, he broke into a sprint, heading to the rendezvous point.

As always, he took his time to watch around as he ran – taking in the city buzzing with life in this hot and dry land, listening to the sound of various birds and the silent murmur of water running though the city, splitting it into two parts. Everything looked different from up here. Up here he truly became an eagle, bathing in freedom and fresh air.

Allen's daydreaming was cut short as he sighted the tower of his rendezvous point. He sped up and leaped forward through the air, using his hook-blade to catch on to the side of the tower and pull himself up on the nearest ledge.

Glancing behind, he spotted the white hood of his friend in one of the streets and he kept looking long enough until the other assassin met his eye. Giving him a short nod, Allen let go of the ledge.

The white-haired man landed on the ground with a dull thud. The fall sent tingles up his legs but he ignored it, creeping forward and carefully looking around.

The aforementioned red-haired man was nowhere to see and a quick glance at the slightly disturbed face of his informant made his mind scream in alarm. He heard a rustle of fabrics behind him but he didn't turn around in time.

Allen was pounced from behind by an arm hooking him in a loose head/shoulder lock that made him go rigid, the only warning beforehand being a boisterous greeting of, "Hey! 'sprout! Long time, no see, buddy!"

Lavi knew it probably wasn't the wisest idea sneaking up on someone, much less an Assassin armed to the teeth with deadly tools of execution and death, but he couldn't seem to help himself. He got way too much of a kick from getting reactions out of people. If the albino Brit decided to try stabbing his eye out, he resolved he'd just have to dodge it, already prepared to do that. Y'know... just in case.

Allen slowly turned around to face him, his mind still not caught up with what his eyes were seeing or ears were hearing.

"Lavi…" Allen breathed, staring at the face of a man he had not hoped to see again.

Lavi grinned at the pure shock, as if the other was looking upon some mythical thing that shouldn't exist, yet did. Yeah, that was about the look he figured he was probably going for...which was great.

He thought he could detect something else though, a little more unpleasant. A sort of distant, long-forgotten pain.

He supposed that was fully his own fault, though...

No... it wasn't like leaving the way he had had been his first choice, but they had picked up and moved so quickly, there then gone. That was usually how it worked. Normally even a note was too much of a trace to leave behind, but he'd managed it without his old man noticing. It hadn't really explained much, being very vague about where they might be headed, and only really telling Allen that they wouldn't be seeing each other anymore. He hadn't once written another letter since then.

Of course, the customs of his clan were all but entirely unknown to outsiders, being a very secretive lot, so he didn't nor had he expected Allen to fully understand why that was all he'd left, nor the fact that even doing that much was taking a risk that his clan didn't allow.

" 'been ten years, hasn't it? How have ya be-Oof!"

"Stronzo! You miserable human being!" Allen swore as he punched the older man's gut with both his fists. "Cazzo! A note! That was all you left!"

Most might've been at least somewhat mad, but Lavi merely laughed light-heartedly and straightened up with a wincing smile, internally wondering if that was going to leave him a bruise.

"Sorry! Sorry, I just... we picked up and left so last minute, I barely had the time to dress myself, before Gramps kicked me out the door and we took to the road." He knew that was stretching it a bit, but not by much. There were usually a lot of passive mentions about maybe leaving soon and going on to another mission and a new name, but when it finally, actually happened, it was always abrupt and without goodbyes. Bookmen didn't have attachments - they weren't supposed to anyway - so farewells and telling people where they were going didn't matter, since people weren't supposed to matter. "It wasn't like I planned on things being that way, it just sort of... happened."

Allen's glare was unforgiving. With everything that happened between them, with everything they lived through, he still only left a note. No goodbye, no promises – even fakes ones to keep his hopes up. Nothing but a bunch of letters hastily scribbled on a yellowed piece of paper.

Allen shook his head, finally averting his eyes from Lavi's face to hide his feelings.

Lavi nearly yelped as the white-haired man threw himself at the older male, burying his head into Lavi's shoulder and squeezing him as hard as he could, bringing with it a swell of mixed feelings the Bookman knew he wasn't supposed to have. Even amongst Bookmen though, trained since a young age to be detached from everything, there were some people it was impossible not to become endeared to. Allen just happened to be one of those people, at least to Lavi.

"I missed you, you asshole!"

Lavi laughed warmly and hugged him back, the same words - minus the 'asshole' part - twitching at his lips, though they hesitated making themselves known a moment. To say something like that, something so sentimental... that wasn't something he was allowed to do, but he couldn't think of any other way to reply and still maintain his err as a Bookman without coming across as completely callous and insincere. That would hurt Allen too much, and he wasn't willing to do that(again).

"I missed you too, Allen."

He had. He really had, despite how many times he told himself it didn't matter. Despite how much he'd repeated in his head that it was for the best that he'd left, before their relationship could go any deeper, since his lifestyle meant that he could never get as close as his friend deserved. That all the years apart had been good for both of them because he could go back to being the perfect, uninvolved Bookmen apprentice that didn't care about anyone else.

He'd repeated things like that to himself so many times, over and over, until the lies and truth had woven so deeply together that he even had trouble discerning which was which. But he could still taste the lie in there somewhere, never having been able to fully embrace that denial, and never able to completely push Allen from his mind, and more importantly, that little spot in his chest that wasn't supposed to exist.

Allen squeezed harder, holding his breath and biting his tongue.

"Lavi, I..." He stopped himself. He knew he couldn't say that yet. He looked up instead, opting to joke rather than to let slip what was already on the tip of his tongue.

A smile. That is what always worked.

"Is that stubble I'm seeing?" he teased as he eyed, slapping both of the redhead's cheeks.

Lavi laughed as Allen seemed entirely surprised by the reddish peach-fuzz hairs that were sprouting on his jaw-line. It had been a long time since they'd seen each other. Allen had still been a teenager, and Lavi only just barely between that and an adult at the time. Even so, he hadn't changed much. His hair was a bit longer since then, though only a little, and he'd managed to get a nick just bad enough to leave a thin scar near the underside of his jaw.

"Yeah. I try to get rid of the little buggers but they keep coming back," he mused, idly running a hand over his chin. Hair was sometimes such an annoying thing to manage. " 'been thinking about just giving up already, but I don't think the bearded look suits me too well."

"We should move somewhere more private." Allen added suddenly, glancing behind him. Turning around to the very confused-looking assassin, he smiled. "See? I told you. Nothing to worry about." The assassin didn´t seem very assured, but he visibly relaxed. "We should be going back to the den. After all," Allen glanced back at Lavi, "we have some celebrating to do. Come, you need to tell me about your journey."