#with juno being a smug bitch

[thedragonqueen1998]

Man, the Shaun one could actually be an awesome Assassin's Creed game irl.

Clay's one could be really cool. Sequel to the Animus dating sim fic perhaps? XD

Weird idea but.

What if instead of Desmond another one of the modern day characters was the protagonist?

The plot stays roughly the same, with only a few adjustments to accomodate the new main character.

The easiest one would be Shaun, because it would just be him finally getting to use the Animus, except that rather than focusing on only one ancestor he would be switching between various ancestors of his who had something to do with the plot and putting their individual experiences together like some sort of puzzle to find out what he needs. The various stories of his ancestors would be treated as a sort of anthology, with the player being able to choose which story to play through without having to follow a linear timeline, + there would be a conspiracy board in the modern day storyline for you to put the clues you've found together and find the location of the apple, at which point you're going to have one final mission in the modern day that requires you to use everything you've learned from your ancestors to survive.

For this plot to work Desmond would have to be either incapacitated by the bleeding effect (to the point that he can no longer use the Animus himself) of straight up dead (this last option would also mean that Lucy will be absent from the plot, + maybe Shaun will have to find Desmond's son Elijah, and the ending gives you the choice between sacrificing either him or the world).

For Lucy:

Ok, hear me out: I did some reaserch and dug up some old threads from the days of yore (shortly after the end of Brotherhood, but before Clay's DLC was released), and one fan theory that caught my attention was that the modern day storyline was actually a simulation, and that the reason why Juno killed Lucy was to wake her up in the real world.

For the sake of this game, we're going to change one small detail: it's not that Juno killed Lucy to kick her out of the simulation, it's that she was yoinked out by someone else in the real world, and the simulation had to cover for her absence by having Juno kill her.

So the plot stays the same, except that we now also have Lucy running around in this Mass Effect-esque future trying to destroy the simulation and get her friends out.

(The real reason why the games are still going is because she's been sidequesting. a lot.)

As for Clay... the poor guy has already been through so much. He should be the protagonist of a dating game.

His choices are:

Lucy, the assistant of the doctor who's holding him captive (she's still a traitor, but by romancing her you can convince her to switch sides again and run away with you)

Desmond, the other "patient" who's being held in the room close to his, and with whom he can communicate thanks to a very convenient vent which connects their rooms (if you make the right decisions while romancing him you can save both him and the world at the end of the game)

Rebecca, one of the assassins sent to rescue him and an absolute sweetheart (the best choice)

Shaun, the other assassin sent to rescue him (the worst choice)

Juno, because why the fuck not (the even worse choice) (only unlockable by rejecting everybody else)

Poly relationships are an option, and you will get unique dialogue based on the partner combinations you choose.

Rebecca should just get Prototype-style powers and go ape shit.

The plot? Fuck the plot. My girl disguised herself as Mr.Rikkin, walked through the front door and to the main servres (or whatever, idk how technology works), hacked the shit out of them and bankrupted Abstergo, + released all the dirt about the Templars to boot.

The rest of the game is her using her powers to swing around Spiderman style, only occasionally stopping to pet dogs and do wacky side quests.

[freedomfireflies]

404*

Summary: The one where you and Harry are software engineers on a project for Juno Inc.

And you can’t fucking stand each other.

Word Count: 2.6k

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞You are so much more important!*

(Note: This edit is not mine!! I believe the @ is on it, but full credit to the incredible creator! It's so perfect!!)

“What the hell are you still doing here?”

Your eyes never leave the computer screen as Harry’s familiarly snippy question echoes across the empty lab. “Working,” you answer simply.

He snorts as the door falls shut behind him. “It’s two in the fucking morning, I thought you left hours ago.”

“I did. And then I came back.”

You vaguely hear him walk further into the dark room, slipping around the different tables as he moseys his way closer. “Why?”

“S’this fucking sequence,” you mumble, now glaring at the different variants that litter the test. “Every time I run the simulation, the connection fails. And it shouldn’t.”

Your peripheral catches the way he uses his knuckle to push his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “Is there a missing link?”

“There shouldn’t be. I’ve run it before, and it’s worked fine. But now it’s not. It’s like something is broken.”

“Or missing,” he argues, coming to a stop behind your chair. He studies the project from over your shoulder, and you feel your muscles recoil when you get a whiff of his cologne. “There could be something wrong with the back end.”

“Okay, well, there’s not,” you retort, shooting him a quick glare. “I already checked.”

“Well maybe you missed it. You have a tendency to misplace things.”

“I didn’t misplace it, Harold, I studied every inch of that fucking code, and there was nothing broken or missing.”

He leans back, arms crossing as he regards both you and the program. “Maybe you should check it again.”

“And maybe you should bite me,” you huff, too overworked to deal with the snarky attitude. “I really don’t have time for this today, all right? Can you just leave me to it?”

“I’d like to, but clearly you don’t know what you’re doing,” he replies calmly, and even without looking at him, you can sense his smug smile. “Every time I leave you to it, I come back to find out you’ve wrecked our project.”

Your eyes roll. “First of all, it’s not our project. It’s my project. And second…why are you even here? I thought you had shit to do tonight.”

“I did, but I’m done now.”

“Oh, so, naturally you came back just to annoy me?”

“Naturally.” He places his hand on the desk beside you and leans down, hovering near your arm as he glances over the computer. “There could be something wrong with the framework. Try the sequence again, I wanna see how it behaves.”

“No thanks.”

Harry smirks, and you realize you don’t like how close his face is. “Relax, Tinkerbell, I just wanna help.”

“And I don’t want your help,” you remind him, using your elbow to shove him to the side. “I’ve spent months with this program, it’s my baby, and I will fix it alone.”

“We’re supposed to be working together,” he argues, but it’s much too coy. “So stop being such a bitch and just run the goddamn sequence.”

You snort under your breath as you spin around in your chair to look at him. “It was that bad, huh?”

He settles back against the table behind him, hands shoving into his pockets as he stares right back. “What was bad?”

“The sex.” You jut your chin toward him. “The thing you had to do tonight. It was bad enough that you had to come back here and start swinging your dick around just to feel better.”

He smirks, tongue running over his bottom lip. “It was fine.”

“Fine? Gee, how romantic.”

He exhales an amused laugh and glances around the lab. “She was still hung up on her ex. Think it lasted all of fifteen minutes, and I’m pretty sure she faked it.”

“Well, she was having sex with you. Of course she faked it.”

His smile gets a bit bigger. “Well, I faked it, too.”

“You?” you scoff. “No way. She could have sneezed on your cock, and you still would have cum.”

His head shakes, grinning wildly. “Normally, yeah. But we both just wanted to get out of there.”

“Poor girl.”

“Yeah? What about poor me?”

“Oh, I never feel sorry for you. You always find a way to get what you want eventually.”

His head tilts, green eyes sparkling behind the tortoiseshell frames of his glasses. “Do I?”

“Clearly.” You settle back into your chair, legs crossing. “I mean, have you ever heard the word no in your life?”

“Hear it all the time with you.”

“Exactly. I’m doing you a favor.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah. I’m keeping you humble.”

“Is that right?”

“It is.”

That smug look of endearment returns as the lab falls silent. He watches you for quite some time, and you think that you’d pay anything to hear what he’s really thinking.

Then, he smirks. “Good,” he says, and with that, he’s pushing off the desk and striding to you.

He bridges the five-foot gap between you with ease, and you aren’t even afforded the chance to take a breath before he’s grabbing hold of your face and kissing you.

His large body bends in order to reach you in the chair, but you can feel him tugging on you. Encouraging you up and into his hold as you gasp against his mouth and allow him to help you stand.

It’s a seamless dance. Familiar. He grabs onto your hips and slams you onto the desk, knocking a few pens and some of the various equipment out of the way.

His hands are sliding up your shirt. Memorizing the expanse of your skin as his lips press into your neck. Nipping and sucking just below your ear in the way he knows you love.

Your fingers have disappeared into his curls. They’re soft and oddly comforting. Perfect to tug on as you whimper gently and arch your back. Pressing your tits against his chest as he groans.

“Can I tell you a secret?” he murmurs, now sliding his hand toward the zipper on your jeans.

You nod quickly, mewling as you practically buck into his touch.

He smiles, mouth trailing across your jaw, “I was thinking about someone else, too.”

Your lashes flutter shut.

“The whole time,” he carries on, rough fingertips dancing down the front of your underwear. “When I was with her. Couldn’t think about anybody else but you. Every time she’d whine or say my name, I thought about how you’d do it. How you’d sound, how you’d feel.”

Your nails scratch down his black t-shirt, needing more than anything to feel his skin. See it littered with your marks. Your claim.

“She could never do it right,” he tells you, and it makes your stomach wrench. “Never do it like you.”

“Yeah?” you manage to breathe, wiggling in an effort to help him yank your pants down. “S’that why you couldn’t get hard?”

He grins as he flicks his belt undone. “Who says I couldn’t get hard?”

With a rather determined tug, he shoves your panties to the side, large hands stroking through your folds.

“Because if I’m thinking about you,” he whispers, eyes trained on your cunt, “I’m always fucking hard.”

You whine when he thrusts inside, two fingers to start. He’s rarely gentle, but you love it. And so does he, obsessed with the image of your pussy stretching around him. Any part of him. His tongue, his hands, his cock.

He’s bigger than most, and he always makes sure to prep you before he gives you what you really want. Granted, he taunts you with the idea of ruining you and splitting your poor cunt in half each time. Driving himself to the hilt before your tight little hole is ready. He likes the idea of corrupting you for someone else. 

“Relax,” he instructs, soft but firm. “S’gonna hurt a lot more if you don’t.”

You drop your head back and balance yourself on your hands, legs pushed open by his hips. “I’m trying,” you whimper, just to see his jaw clench.

“Gonna have to try harder,” he says, working his fingers into your wet cunt while his glasses slowly begin to slip down his nose. Settling at a crooked angle, and it makes you smile. “Can’t give you my cock if you don’t.”

You push your lips into a pout. “Please, Har.”

He looks up, the veins in his neck prominent as he seems to swallow another groan. “You’re so tight, Tink. Gonna wreck this pretty pussy if I don’t get you stretched.”

“Good,” you moan, thighs shaking as he brings a third finger closer. “Want you to.”

He grins. “Yeah?”

You nod fervently. “Want you to do whatever you want. I’m always good for you. Always fit you.”

“You do,” he agrees quietly, the heel of his hand pressing into your clit as he works through your arousal at a quicker pace. “Always take me so well. Even when it makes you cry.”

You whine again at the thought as he finally yanks his fingers free and moves to retrieve his cock. 

You’re nearly salivating at the idea, scooting toward the edge of the table in preparation as he pulls himself out and steps up to you.

Your eyes widen when you see him. Hard and heavy in his hand, leaking the most delicious looking drops of pre-cum that you’re already thrilled he never offered this other girl.

He runs the tip through your folds a time or two, making you both squirm before he gently begins to push in.

You have to give him props for the amount of restraint he always demonstrates for you. The ability to go slow and be delicate despite the fact all he wants to do is ram himself inside you and settle into your warm cunt.

Like now. You can see the effects of such sluggish movements, the way he holds himself back until he’s sure you’ll be all right. Teeth gritting, muscles tensed, cock throbbing.

You reach out and gently slide his glasses back up, making sure they’re comfortable and that he can see all right before kissing him. “Okay…okay, go.”

He kisses you back quickly before studying you. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” you whimper, hooking your leg around his hip. “Need it, Har, please.”

And that’s all it takes for him to sheath himself inside your aching pussy, disappearing completely between your legs as you both moan.

The quiet lab isn’t so quiet anymore, and you throw your arms around his neck as he begins to pull out and push back in.

“There she is,” he grunts, large hand squeezing your thigh to keep you still. “Look at you, Tink, taking me so well.”

“Always,” you exhale, pressing your mouth to his cheek. 

“Better than she ever was,” he continues, setting a quicker rhythm now. “So much better.”

He’s pounding you into the desk, hitting spots that make you see stars, and you clench around him until he gasps.

“Funny how well you take me…when you claim to hate me so much,” he says now, unable to resist needling you, and you whimper.

“I do,” you insist, despite the way you scratch down his back. “Fucking hate you.”

“Yeah?” His hips snap to yours. “S’that why you always beg for my cock?”

You don’t like the insinuation that you beg him for anything, especially when you know that he’s right. But you’re too far gone right now to take care, equally as depraved of pleasure as he seems to be.

The two of you don’t do this often. Maybe once or twice a month, if that. Most of the time, it’s incredibly unfriendly. A quick fuck in the supply closet or in his car in the parking lot. In between quippy remarks about how fucking unhinged the other is. How idiotic, and uncouth, and how goddamn annoying.

Because he is. So endlessly annoying and every day you have to resist the urge to slap those fucking glasses off his face.

But he knows how to fuck. That much is certain, and despite your immeasurable hatred for him, you can’t help but fall victim to his prowess.

In fact, moments like this are about the only time you don’t mind him. That you can actually stand him, and even want to submit to him.

Of course, you’re filled with regret and embarrassment the second you’re both finished, but for these few minutes…you don’t mind.

“Every fucking day,” he continues, holding onto your waist as he buries his cock deeper. “Have to watch you parade around like you’re fucking God’s gift to technology.”

You’d snort if you had enough air in your lungs to do so. 

“In your fucking tight little tank tops and see through dresses,” he seethes, dragging you back to the edge of the desk to angle you the way he likes. “With your hair always up in that stupid ponytail. Just begging to be pulled. To be yanked onto your knees while you take me down your throat.”

Your eyes roll back as you keen into his body. Memories of swallowing around him flooding your mind as you shiver.

Despite his aggravating remarks, he’s always so proud of you when you take his cock down your throat. He knows it’s a lot and he knows he can’t force you to do anything your body isn’t equipped to handle.

But he’s enamored with the way you try. Pleased to see you lick him, suck him, take as much of him as you can. He might hate you, but he praises you more than anybody else ever has.

And it’s one of the main reasons you can’t quit him.

“Then maybe…you shouldn’t look,” you pant, whimpering when he thrusts particularly hard. “I don’t wear that shit for you.”

He snorts, now grabbing onto your wrist and forcing your hand against your clit. He moves your fingers for you, pressing them into the sensitive nerves until you cry out and clamp down on him again.

“No?” he taunts, cock twitching inside you as he nears his release. “Then who do you wear it for, hm? Fucking Sam?”

You make another noise as he pushes your body into more immense pleasure, touch still locked atop yours.

“No, not Sam,” he decides. “Cause Sam can’t do it the way I can. S’why you came to me, isn’t it?”

You don’t dignify this with a response. You don’t have to. He knows.

“Sam can’t make you cum, can he?” Harry continues, almost vengefully as he feels you get closer. “Never fucking could. That’s why you only cum for me.”

It’s blinding. So intense that it makes your entire body ache as you fall victim to the wave of pleasure pulling you under.

He’s right behind you, spilling into your cunt before spilling out of it. Dripping down your legs, down the table, down his thighs as you both ride each other through the bliss.

He doesn’t let you release your clit for at least a good two minutes after, ignoring your pleas for mercy as your body struggles against the sensation.

It’s overwhelming. Hot, sticky, sweaty. He pulls out to go grab a towel from the supply closet before bringing it back and helping you clean up. 

He leaves a few teasing licks to your cunt in the process, and you swat your hand across his head in warning.

He smirks.

Once he’s finished, he pulls your jeans back on and up before tucking himself into his pants to do the same. 

Then, after helping you hop down, he offers you a lopsided grin and pushes his glasses back up.

“Now,” he says coyly, “go be a good girl and run the fucking sequence.”

Next Part:

~ Off the Shelf* (pt. 2)

~ Full 404 Masterlist

~ Main Masterlist

~ Blurb Masterlist

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282

[lazymcdoodle]

pose reference: mellon_soup on pinterest ✨

just trevor being a smug bitch and juno having enough of it

[evening-starlight]

Daddy’s Best Friend

Taglist is Open! Dm or comment to be added

All Works Master List

DBF Master List

23

Word Count: 1331

    The people buzzing around Amaris are nothing more than annoying flies as she ventures through the venue, setting up the finishing touches for her big day. Casey, the planner, rushes over to Amaris, setting a hand on her shoulder. "Amaris, baby, you don't need to do anything," She says. Amaris sighs and nods.

    "I know. I just need to busy myself." Casey nods and slowly leads Amaris back to her dressing room.

    "Every bride feels that on her wedding day. My team and I have set up a lovely room for you and your friends. We have champagne, snacks, and the most comfortable robes you will ever wear. Which you get to take home after the ceremony," Casey wiggles her arm against Amaris's, earning a forced giggle from the bride. "Your sisters are already inside. Cleo should arrive in a few minutes, according to your groom."

     Amaris gives a small thank you as they reach the door. "Your hairstylist and makeup artist should be in just after your friends to get everyone ready," Casey informs. "I will handle absolutely everything else. If you need anything, even a baby blue chair from Switzerland, someone from my team will go get it for you, okay?" She jokes as she opens the door for Amaris.

    "Thank you for everything, Casey. I really appreciate your help." Casey waves her off and leaves her to be with her younger sisters. Juno is the first to get up and hug her.

    "I'm so excited for you. This is a huge day," She squeals. Amaris nods with a heavy sigh. "Hey, what's wrong?" Juno asks, holding onto her older sister's shoulders.

    "Just feeling off, I guess," Amaris shrugs. Of course, she felt off. She let Tom slip right through her fingers and even pushed him through the cracks to rid herself of him. This toxic feeling in her stomach wasn't usual bridal nerves. It was this never-ending notion that this was the wrong decision. Amaris was gutted to the core. She had nothing else to give besides forcing each breath and every step towards her execution. The killing of who she used to be in favor of her family's legacy.

    Cleo bursts in, shades still on and bright red lipstick stains on her teeth. "Look who's getting married," She squeals, pulling Amaris into a bone-crushing hug. "I'm so proud of you girlie, I never thought you'd get married, let alone be the first one of us." The compliment is underhanded and makes Amaris roll her eyes, pushing Cleo off of her.

    "Thanks for that, Cleo. Real help on a big day," Danica mutters, pouring a glass of champagne for everyone.

    "Oh, don't be such a party pooper, Danny Wanny," Cleo coes, pinching Danica's cheek. She swats it off, bearing her teeth at the personal space invader. "It is your sister's wedding day, after all. This is about her, of course." Amaris shares a look with Danny, unamused and already on their last nerve. The only reason Cleo was part of Amaris's wedding party was that she's like a leech and never lets go. "Um, can I speak with you in private, Mrs. Bonnet?" Cleo asks, eyeing Juno up and down. The last name makes Amaris feel sick all over again. It was Armel's surname, and she didn't deserve the title.

    Amaris follows Cleo to the other side of the room, rolling her eyes again in unison with Danica. "I thought it was just us girlies today," Amaris follows Cleo's gaze towards Juno. "I mean no offense to them and all, but let's be honest, she's not really a she," Cleo continues. Amaris's blood runs cold, and her fists clench tightly at her sides. Her shoulders stiffen, and her ears start to rush with blood.

    "Excuse me?" Amaris asks, voice laced with venom and low, not to offend Juno. "What did you just say about my damn sister?" Cleo tilts her head to the side and gives Amaris a pitiful look like she was delusional.  

    "I said no offense," She defends.

    "Get out," Amaris snarls, backing away from Cleo to give her room to leave. Cleo looks back at her with a confused expression.

    "What do you mean by that?" Cleo asks as if it wasn't blatantly obvious why she was being kicked out of the wedding ceremony.

    "I mean, you're being a disrespectful bitch towards my wonderful sister. Who's ten times more ladylike than you ever could be. I don't want you in my ceremony, I don't want you in the damn audience, and I better not see you at my reception, or you're going to have hell to pay. Do you understand?"

    "We have a bridezilla over here," Cleo laughs, holding her hands up and looking for backup from the other two Clarke sisters. "I'll let you calm down for a little bit, and I'll be back." She leaves the room, and Amaris quickly follows, finding a member of her planning staff. They're informed about everything going on and told to keep Cleo away from the ceremony at any cost.

    Juno tackles Amaris in a hug the minute the door closes behind her as she reenters the dressing room. Amaris is nearly knocked on her feet by the force her sister comes at her with. The continuous thanks coming from Juno calm Amaris down slightly. She would do anything for her sister's, and it was just a kicker that it was the woman Amaris couldn't stand.

    The beauty squad arrives while the sisters make a toast, hyping the two younger ones up easily. Amaris couldn't quite get as excited, a weighted ball on her chest preventing her from feeling anything but dread.

    As she sits in the chair, Amaris stares at herself in the mirror while a red-haired girl starts styling her hair. Her skin is dull and lifeless. Her eyes are dark and sunken in like she hasn't slept a day in her life. The questions the stylist asks fall over deaf ears as Amaris goes through all possible scenarios that could happen as she walks down the aisle.

    The dress could rip, and she could fall. Tom could come running in, stop the wedding, and declare his love for her in the middle of the aisle. But he wouldn't. Amaris could dream all she wanted, but Tom was on his way to Spain right now, and she was about to walk to the aisle to someone she didn't care for.

    Amaris loved Tom. More than life itself. She could remember Tom's favorite tea and the way he hums right before he's about to fall asleep. Amaris can feel his arms wrapping around her while she makes breakfast and his weight on her chest when she's lying on the couch reading, and he demands her attention.

    She's shoved back into reality when Danica smacks Amaris's thigh harshly, causing a red raised pattern in the shape of her hand. Her face is done, and her hair is pulled back in some curlers. "Earth to Mari," She chuckles. "How are we feeling? Need more champagne?" Amaris shakes her head slightly.

    "No, I'll be okay. I was just lost in the anxiety of all this," Amaris shrugs. Danny gives her a small smile and rubs her knee reassuringly.

    "I'm sure everything will be fine. If anything embarrassing happens, I'll do something twice as embarrassing to make up for it, alright? I'll even make Juno join."

    "I'll out embarrass both of you," Juno calls before sipping on her champagne with a smug smile while she sits in her own makeup chair. Danica stares her down, rolling her eyes.

    "Does everything have to be a competition with you, Juno?"

    "Yes," Juno nods firmly. The sisters all laugh together, a tiny bit of happiness on a bleak day. They continue to chat, distracting Amaris from her thoughts as the glam squad finishes off everyone's hair and makeup. Amaris nearly forgets the next item on the list is putting on her mother's dress.

Taglist: @queenofallhobos @kingtwhiddleston @cynic-spirit @end-up-well @xoxabs88xox @k-reads7 @1marvelnerd3000​ @jhawk608​

[teecupangel]

From @noficbyhalves’ tags

#i love this #desmond 'the universe keeps putting me in Situations' miles #altair gleefully noticing that his two singular divine requests are 'dont die' and 'do a murder' #man has never been more prepared for anything in his life #*rolls up sleeves* congrats you've activated my special interest. no i am not stopping #rip juno tbh #assassins creed #altaïr ibn la’ahad #altair is a little shit #desmond miles #i ship desmond miles with being alive

From @knine-nights-loves-ac

Oh I’m loving Altaïr and Desmond. Juno’s going to be very confused and what I wouldn’t give to see her smug bitch ass face when she realizes these puny humans are greater than her and she’s not going to survive this. Altaïr would give Desmond a show. And god I’d pay to see that show too

All the Isus know they have no choice.

This anomaly, the being that goes by the name Altaïr…

He wasn’t human.

But he wasn’t an Isu as well.

Yet he was able to control everything they ever made easily.

Anything he touches immediately gets upgraded into its most powerful state.

Some of them do not last long, the sudden surge of power leading to instability that sooner or later end up overheating itself.

And he seemed to always know when it was about to happen, throwing them to explode at their soldiers.

The humans were winning. Slowly but surely they were being pushed to the brink.

Minerva’s calls for a truce had been a way to save themselves without showing their desperation.

Minerva might not realize it though. She was too focused on the impending danger of the Solar Flare.

Altaïr ordered them to meet him in the Garden of Eden, a facility that used to create humans, now turned into rubble by the humans’ first wave of attack.

The rubble around a meeting table had been cleared and the man sat at the head of the table.

A lot of the Isus bristled at the sight of a supposed human sitting at the highest of the sitting order.

Minerva found them annoying.

What used was a seating arrangement at this point?

“Greetings, Altaïr.” Minerva bowed slightly, ignoring the looks from the Isus who had come with her. Altaïr sat alone and there was no sign of any humans around.

They could just as easily be hiding in the rubble all around them.

The humans’ greatest army was directly under Altaïr, going by the title of the Assassin Brotherhood.

Their way was the way of the shadows.

It wouldn’t be surprising if they were actually surrounded by humans ready to kill them, simply waiting for their mentor’s signal.

“Let’s get this over with.” Altaïr said as he showed Minerva some kind of memory storage device the size of his thumb, “I’ve put here all the information I have concerning the incoming Solar Flare. I will give this to you after you complete my demand.”

“You insolen-”

“What is your demand?” Minerva asked, cutting off whatever biting remark one of her guards was about to say, glaring at him for daring to speak without being ordered to.

“And how can we be sure of the validity of your information?” Her father, Tinia added as he sat on the chair directly in front of Altaïr. He looked at Tinia with a calm expression, “I do not wish to insult you but Minerva had only learned of the incoming Solar Flare three days ago. It seems… ‘strange’ that you’re able to give us information about it already.”

“My patron is very forthcoming about everything and anything I desire.” Altaïr stated.

‘Patron’.

That was the ‘title’ of what the Isus believed to be the one who created Altaïr.

Or modified him.

Altaïr spoke of his patron as if they were his god and many believe they were a rogue Isu who was now hiding behind the monster they had created.

Finding the identity of this rogue Isu was one of the priorities before when the war had reached its peak.

But now…

“If perhaps we were to talk to your patron…” Tinia clarified quickly, “Just to talk about where they have gotten this information so we may verify it-”

Altaïr sighed and crushed the memory storage device in his hand.

“No!” Minerva shouted as she took a step forward, face paling as her eyes widened.

“I already know what must be done concerning this Solar Flare.” Altaïr said as the remains of the memory storage device fell to the table. He placed his hand over it and the ring in his finger glowed.

Everything occupying the space below his palm, the size of an Apple of Eden, disappeared in a flash.

Leaving nothing but a crater…

“I do not need you or your kind.” Altaïr stood as he looked down at Tinia, “I am reaching out only because my patron is kind.”

“I am not.” Altaïr reminded them, “Our side can make preparations on our own. We have no need for you and your kind.”

Altaïr raised his head to stare at Minerva, “If you wish for a chance then you will complete my demand. Only then will I give you a copy of what I know.”

“… and… what is your demand?” Minerva asked, hands slightly trembling.

“Juno’s head served in a silver platter.” Altaïr announced, “Try to keep her conscious alive in any way or fail to fully kill her and you forfeit any and all possibilities of me sharing anything to you.”

“Juno?!” Tinia shouted as he stood, “But she’s-”

“Experimented on humans in Atlantis with her husband.” Altaïr reminded him, “Something that is forbidden by your laws.”

Altaïr returned his focus on Minerva, “My patron believes you will make the right choice. I do not.”

“Kill Juno and ensure she cannot be revived by any means possible. That is my demand.” Altaïr began to walk away as he said, “We will schedule our next meeting after I received her head.”

Normally, Desmond is sent back in time to mess with things.

But what if it wasn't him?

Like, maybe Desmond couldn't go back in time himself but he could, in the split second he touched the apple, send someone else.

What if one of his ancestors went back in time? (Upon their deaths or something.)

I imagine a young Altair (who might be using a fake name) running around Italy with a tired Ezio following like a worried mother hen. (No, Claudia, he is not hovering he is just concerned) He ends up taking Altair under his wing (No, Claudia, it is not adoption.)

Or maybe Altair ends up in Bayek's time, Oh! Or Connor in Ezio's time. (Edward and Ezio would either get along badly or be too powerful if they were together in the same time period.)

These boys ruin the timeline and somehow save the world/future by simply stumbling through everything with no clue what's going on. and of course the power of friendship and really sharp blades.

Desmond and Clay are laughing their asses off in the afterlife as their ancestors destroy centuries worth of carefully calculated plans. (They might also manipulate things a little to help.)

And the time traveling ancestors for the most part, are doing the best they can in their current situation.

They are freaking the fuck out the whole time but are excellent at hiding it.

Poor Ezio.

(No, Altair, you can't kill that person because that have information we need, yes, I'm sure, Claudia don't encourage him.)

Well… How about we add some… ‘order’ to the chaos?

Desmond only had a fraction of a second to send his ancestor back in time.

And he hesitated.

He didn’t know which one to send.

Should it be Altaïr? Altaïr always felt like he would find out what to do even if he was given only minimal clues.

But Ezio was his prophet, the one he had been with the longest…

Ratonhnhaké:ton though… he deserves answers. He deserves the truth.

And when he woke up…

In that endless sea of gray…

The first word he heard were…

“’Morning. Which fucked up timeline do you want to hear first?”

Desmond sat and blinked as Clay stood before him, arms crossed with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Uuuhh…”

“Do you want to hear about how Edward Kenway managed to save his grandson and his grandson’s mother from the fires that should have killed her?” Clay asked before adding, “Oh… and he’s learned that his son’s a Templar by the way. At least, one of his old friends believe he’s actually Edward Kenway. If you think the Kenway Family Drama is bad when you were reliving Connor’s memories, then you gotta see the top tier drama that’s happening with Edward and Haytham right now.”

“Or maybe you want to hear about how Connor got kicked into Ezio’s time? He has no idea what’s happening but he got appointed as Federico’s combat instructor. He knows jackshit, by the way, about the tragedy that’s about to happen but, hey, at least Giovanni believes he’s an Assassin from another country or something. Oh.” Clay rubbed his chin as he added, “Connor doesn’t like how close Giovanni is with the Medici by the way. Lorenzo reminds him a bit of Washington or maybe he’s projecting, who knows?”

“Maybe you’ll like to know how your dear prophet is doing? Well, he’s doing badly in preserving the damn timeline that’s for sure. Let’s see… he got in touch with Alamut and managed to bluff his way into making them believe he’s the mentor of a destroyed Assassin branch from the crusader lands, he got the mentor’s permission to make his own branch in Levant, made a deal with said mentor to become a thorn in Al Mualim’s side and find out what he’s hiding, adopted Altaïr and even went as far as adopt Abbas because he believed he could ‘change’ things.” Clay was quiet for a moment before he added, “Oh and his branch is in the underground temple in Jerusalem so he has the Apple with him already.”

“Then there’s Altaïr.” Clay said with such… annoyance Desmond was actually afraid of what Altaïr had done. Clay rubbed the side of his forehead as he started, “See, they can only be transported into what counts as their past so we can’t have something like Altaïr being pushed into his future in Ezio’s time or something. And, since your only instruction to the Moraes was to ‘change the past’, they had to improvise with Altaïr considering he’s more or less the starting point. They had to pick another one of your ancestors who was important to your past and this world’s future so…”

“Altaïr’s been sent to the time of the Isu-Human war and his knowledge of the POEs and getting unconstrained access to the POEs at their full power… well… let’s just say…” Clay’s tone was drier than the desert as he said, “The Isus didn’t know what hit them.”

Desmond could only stare at Clay as he said.

“Soooo… which one do you want to contact first as their ‘patron’?”

[spookytsubaki]

Dream a little dream of me

HejHej! @babes-week prompt No.2 (Dream) is late as hell, but now you can read a short bit of a long term rp fic planned out by Me and BugBreaths on Archive of Our Own. 

So without further ado, here is an excerpt of Dream a little dream of me.

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The house was quiet. Not a peep coming from anyone. Yet as everyone rested so peacefully, Lydia was plagued with a fitfull sleep. It had been a few weeks since the hellish wedding. Which left everyone, including herself, baffled with how quickly it all ensued. However, the thing that stuck with Lydia most, was a certain ghost. Ratted yellow hair, with moss to decorate the ends, a gravelly voice that she could feel rumble so close to her at some point, eyes that held truly evil plans, all of which she was so much more intrigued by. 

Ever since that night, she had mostly been okay. Well, okay was an overstatement. She was getting by. She had Adam and Barbara around, her father and Delia seemed to continue business as usual, and she…. was doing fine. At least that’s what she wanted to believe. These remembrances in her subconscious state barely ever truly bothered her, but when they did, she was left with even more yearning for answers as to why everything happened. As to why she was the one to be married. 

Tonight however, the dreams seemed different.

 She was once again in that god-awful red tulle monstrosity that was her wedding dress, her hair done neatly, everything done to a tee. But something felt off. The room around her wasn’t her own. To be completely honest, she wasn’t sure where she was. And where was he? In all her other dreams, he was there, just ready to say their vows and be bound through and afterlife. But this time, he wasn’t. She was alone, sitting on some stiff black lacquer chair, veil over her pale face. Waiting. 

The ghost with the most had been sleazing around the old model for a few weeks, after all, Juno threw him back here. Stupid old hag. So far, he had been rather bored besides watching his lovely bride. Well, not exactly watching perse. Maybe he had been sneaking into her dreams and going along with the whole scene. After all,  if he was on house arrest, he had to at least try and find some action. Tonight though, he had a different thought in mind. He knew what he wanted from Lydia, and having some fun in her dream wouldn't be too bad. Then again he didn't care if it was good or bad. 

As Betelgeuse made his way into her dream he saw her there all dressed up sitting on the chair waiting. Perfect. With a snap ghost was no longer in his striped suit but his red velvet one. He lit a cigarette before making his way over to her, with a free hand he grabbed her chin and looked into her eyes. 

"Well, well, well... look at what we have here, nothin' but a little bitch waiting to get fucked. Dressed up all fer me?" He croaked, a deep raspy laugh leaving him. He ran his calloused thumb along her smooth red bottom lip.

The way she almost flinched away from him made him even more excited for what he had planned for his lovely little bride. "Now why don't we see what's under that little dress o’ yours..." he watched how she  tried to resist. He grabbed her.  “Hey, hey. No strugglin’ m’kay? It’s not like it’s gonna stop me, I’m seein’ either way.” he growled as he reached behind the petite girl, unzipping the dress rather quickly.

What he was greeted with was like heaven. "Fuck.. I knew you were a goth little bitch, but I didnt think yer bra would be black and lace." One of his large hands pawed at her breast and gave a small squeeze. "Maybe next time you shouldn't wear anything underneath, I'd like that a lot more, kid. Ya wanna be good now, dontcha?" 

Lydia saw her husband come out of one of the darkness that had practically engulfed her. Dressed in the same sort of red, a cigarette between his mossy lips. Immediately, she felt herself go rigid. Sure she had seen him before, but this display of such outward dominance surprised her. He seemed to be enjoying making a little show of this. 

Why did this all feel so real? Why couldn’t she wake up? She felt trapped, to be used in any way he pleased. She was only drawn from his thoughts when he spoke up, a deep chuckle leaving him. She was waiting for him it seemed, she couldn’t argue with that. As he ran his rough thumb against her lips, she jumped-unaccustomed to his chilled touch, before drawing in a small shaky breath. 

As he went for her dress, she instinctively moved away. Well, tried to, before she could do anything, he had grabbed her. His warning and grip made it very clear that she wasn’t getting away that easily. She gave in, thinking it was for the best. She couldn’t scream, she was easily much smaller than him, and if she was being truly honest, she wasn’t sure what she wanted at the moment. Maybe this would help set her straight. 

She felt the dress fall away as he unzipped it, leaving her to contend with the cool air. She shivered, going to cover herself for modesty, but her own arms felt stuck, rigid against the chair. He groped at her bosom (despite her claims there was nothing there, he seemed to be enjoying it) and chastised her about her undergarments. She couldn’t say anything. It was then that she realized she couldn’t do much of anything, she was stuck here, with him, unable to fight off any advances. 

She obidiently and somewhat bashfully looked down, her own body giving in to arousal. She let him feel every bit of her, watching the cigar burn ceaselessly. She prayed that little ash wouldn’t end up on her almost nude body, as she knew those burns would hurt quite a bit. Even if this was a dream, she didn’t wanna tempt it. 

The way she tried to move made him excited, his pants becoming tighter as he watched her. Seeing her so helpless and tied up was almost like a dream. Oh wait it was a dream. He let his fingers carelessly trail her pale skin. That's when a thought came to his mind, he pulled the cigar out of his mouth before putting it near her collar bone almost carelessly yet he knew what he was doing. Slowly he pressed the gray part into her skin and held it there. He listened to the small whimpers that left her and let out a dark laugh. 

After leaving the cigar on her for a few minutes he pulled it away and looked at the nice mark he left on her. “Guess ya belong to me now ya little bitch.”  The ghost said before leaving another mark on her, then another before he finally was satisfied with what he did to her. This was only the beginning though. He threw the cigar aside then started to take off her black lace bra. “Would ya look at that, you actually have fucking tits. I think I heard ya complain about how small they are.” With a rough hand he grabbed one and gave it a rather hard squeeze before squeeze that small pink bud. He watched the way her body moved for him. 

“You fuckin’ little slut. Look at ya already wantin’ more.” With another rough movement he yanked her black lace panties down. “Would ya look at that, this little thing is already wet.” He said holding the panties up to his nose. “Mmm ya can even smell it.” He threw them down before kneeling down and spreading her legs. “Already dripping for me too huh?” 

  He let his grimy fingers rub against that one little sensitive spot, a grin on his face. The look in his eye was almost predatory as he started to rub her a bit more rough, he couldn't be gentle with his little bitch. 

As she saw the cigar inch closer to her unblemished skin, she tried so hard to squirm away. She wanted to protest, to yell in pain as she felt the hot ash burn upon her skin, but no shriek or cry came, only a soft whimper. Her eyebrows creased and she bit her lip so much so that she was sure she tasted blood. His comment made her want to snap back, yet she couldn’t. She couldn’t deny the fact that she was his, after all, the gilded black wedding band on her ring finger proved that much. 

He left one more mark, making her arch towards him (or some lame attempt to) to try and stop the pain. With one careless flick, the cigar was on the floor, and she was left, laid out like a meal for him. He stripped her of her lacy bra, making her want to cover up almost immediately. As he grabbed her bare chest now, she was beside herself, a mix of pleasure and pain. At long last, she could at least make some sounds. Another small moan came from her pursed lips as he abused her nipples. She yearned for some relief. She needed him.

She noticed she gained a bit more control with her movements and voice as they went. And figuring he had some control over it, she let him take the lead, with his degrading compliments- a paradox at it’s finest, his smug grin, and his predatory look, she decided it was all for the best. 

She flushed at his accusation, yet she couldn’t deny it. She knew that she was aroused as ever, and that she needed some satisfaction or she’d wake up hot and bothered, so at long last, she surrendered her dignity to him. He took her panties and took in her scent (something she would normally question, but she let him take the lead.) before making those little comments of how clear it was that she wanted him. Once again, it was something she couldn’t deny. 

As he rubbed her clit gently, she groaned in pleasure and soon found her voice “Beetlejuice…” she murmured, arching towards him, as he started to get a bit more aggressive with his ministrations, she tried to comprehend her feelings. She had to admit, she was mostly new to this ordeal, and she craved more of him. She knew that much. She spread her legs more for him, wanting whatever he could give her in the heat of the moment. 

Those grimey fingers tried to spread her open more as he took in the sight, he found her absolutely delicious. How tight he could tell she was, the semi-new soft patch of raven hair that grew down there gave away the fact that she hadn’t even let the thought of doing anything come to her. He licked his lips finding his lovely little bride hot as hell. Once again his grimey finger barely pushed into the small tight hole and he felt her clench around it. “Look at ya, so tight and new to this. Don’t worry babes, I'll change that for ya.” Without another word he shoved in three fingers and felt her clench up once again. Yet he continued to push them in until he couldn't anymore. 

“Now be a good little slut like I know ya can be  and don’t clench, or Ill make this painful as fuck for you. Then again that wouldn't be so bad, havin, ya a cryin’ and beggin’ for me to stop.” He let out a small dark laugh as he moved his finger in and out in a rather rough motion. Maybe he should have gone into her dream sooner, this was amazing. He loved his little Lydia unable to do anything to stop him. Nothing could stop him. 

“Maybe if you cum when I tell ya to I’ll actually give you something you want. Knowing your little virgin ass though you won't be able to do that.’’ He almost challenged as he curled his fingers and tried to overstimulate her in some way. He loved how warm she felt around his fingers, that's when he moved them in a certain way and hit that one little sweet spot. 

The ghost decided to add more to her pleasure, with his free hand he grabbed her breast once again and placed his mouth around her nipple. He bit down slightly hard before pulling as he let go. He repeated his action with her other breast, then switched between the two. The rough movement still continued with his fingers, his thumb moving to her clit and rubbing it. 

As he crammed a finger in, she grimaced in pain. She knew it would hurt, but she didn’t think it would be like this. She moaned ever so slightly as he started to try and stimulate her through the pain. Her hips jerked involuntarily at his rapid, rough movements. As he shoved two more into her, she yelped, feeling as if this was the worst pain she would ever experience. “It hurtsss” she blubbered, trying to move her hands to slow him down. But once again, she was stuck. 

As he got more heated, he pushed her further and further. His warning seemed to hold no joking manner so she tried to take it. She opened her eyes to see him leering at her. Something that intimidated her beyond belief. She only saw that look a few times, the wedding being the most memorable. She knew she was in for a whirlwind with this dream, so the least she could do would be trying to take it. 

She wanted to try to please him the best she could. That was new. She wanted to be good for him. Her small body had arousal building up more and more, burning in her abdomen. But as he hit that one spot, she cried out in pleasure, all of it getting to be too much for her. As he continued these movements, he went back to her breasts, suckling on them and nipping at them- the cool sensation making them harden quickly once again. She knew she was so close to hitting her own climax as she canted her hips against his hand. Her face contorted with pleasure as he overstimulated her waif-like body. 

And soon enough, just as she was about to hit her first high, head on, she was jolted awake. She groaned and sat up, feeling a bit of sweat pin her deep purple shirt in place. She was left with so many questions. Too many. Was he back? Was he coming for her? Was he angry? All of these answers she hoped she would get soon enough.

Just as it started to get good and he knew he would have his way with her, well in her dream, he was back to being the invisible ghost hiding in the corner. A pissed groan came from him as he clenched his fists. “Little fucking bitch.” He mutters to himself, annoyed as ever. He could have fucked her in her dream! With a sigh he pulled out one of his cigarettes and lit it before taking a long drag. 

He blew out the smoke with ease as he had many thoughts going through his mind. Soon he would get her, and next time it wouldn't be in a dream. He knew that for sure.

[starsescape]

Jill push the door open. She stood at the doorway where she could see the library and a group of people who were there. Two blonde women, a mother and daughter by the look of them, turn to stare at her as they were closest to where Jill had made her entrance. They fell silent and so did rest of the room until a girl’s voice broke it “Are you part of the rescue team?” The one who ask it was a young redhead who couldn’t hold back their smile as they ran over to Jill from further away. They truly believe she was there to save them.

“No, I’m sorry. I’m not.” Jill felt how her words hurt them. The hopeful expression the girl had died down yet they tried to a brave face to fake excitement and say something else, but the older blonde cut her off.

“Did you really think they were here to help?” The blonde woman scoffed at the redhead. “They dress like a slut.“ They look at Jill past the girl between them. They wore glasses, heels and a pen skirt with a blazer which had dull colors. They had tight expression, but gave a smug judgemental gaze to Jill. They look at Jill as if she was a whore and then gave the redhead a side glance “Better leave her be.”

“Excuse me?” Hearing that made it so hard not to escalate things, but somehow Jill only raise her voice just ever so slightly. Can’t believe this woman is.. Jill was about to speak up, but blonde girl beside their mother did so first.

“Mom, shut up.” They glance at their mom with a mix of fear and disgust. Unlike their mother they didn’t seem to fit anywhere. They wore leather pants and a t-shirt with a leather vest. “Sorry..” She apologize while quickly moving her gaze away from their mother and briefly meeting eyes with Jill and the redhead between them. It seem she said it to all of them: for Jill and the redhead for obvious reasons and to her mother for speaking out of term with such a rude manner.

The redhead turn to look at the mother and and then stick out her tongue. “Yeah. Shut up, Susan! No one ask fashion tips from you.” Then they turn back to face Jill and after hesitating for a moment she threw herself in their arms for a tight hug. “You are safe now.” They press their body against Jill’s making her feel their curves through their clothes which didn’t hide that much, before they back away. By that time Susan, the mother of the apologetic girl, had walk off due to being insulted by the redhead and being outnumbered. “Name’s Moira, Moira Barnes.” They wore just a top and shorts along with an open jacket. “What’s yours?”

“It’s Jill..” She smile as she gave her name. They still stood close to each other. The welcome she got wasn’t the kind she expect, but at least she was greeted with some warmth. “Thanks for that.” Jill said it to Moira, but look past the redhead and catch the eyes of the daughter who was left alone after their mother had walk off. She gave them a small nod for standing up against their mother for her.

Moira shook her head. “It was nothing, didn’t go much better with me either.” She cough as if covering up what she had just told Jill, but then she flash her a wavering smile. “So.. If you need anything let me know.” After that Moira kind of drift off and walk away. They look beaten.

Jill could see that despite the friendly greeting Moira was disappointed for her not being there to rescue them.. I’m sorry I couldn’t give you good news. She finally turn to close the door and then look around the library which was big enough to have two floors, though the second floor was only a walkway that circle around the walls. To her left were the shelves containing the public police records and in the corner was a closed off private reading room. On her right were the stairs to the second floor of the library and past them directly under the walkway was the door that lead out to the second floor of the main hall with more shelves beside it with books on a variety of subjects. There were more people around the room, but Jill approach the woman’s daughter who loiter by the public records after the argument.

“Hey.” Jill greet the daughter and gave her a reassuring smile before asking “You okay?” They seem shaken by the little scene they caused. The blonde was quiet and look at the shelves, she look at Jill only from the corner of her eye as if they were shy or intimidated by Jill.

The daughter nod, first meekly and then again with a soft smile. “Yeah.” She look over her shoulder towards her mother, Susan, to see that they were further away browsing some book. “She’s a bitch..” They sigh and then chuckle before they offer their hand for a shake. “I’m Lena.” They shook hands, but their grip linger for a while. Lena whisper a question. “You wouldn’t have have a bottle on you?” She then follow it up by showing a shiv that was hidden in their pocket. “Could have given this for it. I don’t want to fight, I just want to get wasted.”

Hearing what Lena had said made Jill squeeze their hand gently, even caressing it softly with her thumb as they held hands. “Sorry, I don’t have one.” The regret for drinking the brandy earlier almost cross her mind, but Jill knew that she need that break and so had Juno who was there to help her to empty that bottle with her.. Among other things. “I will let you know if I find something, okay?” Jill gave her an empty promise just to cheer them up. She thought it was better for them to keep a clear head, but on the other hand she herself got wasted just a little while ago so.. I will decide on that later. If she would find a bottle she might consider giving it to Lena in exchange for a weapon. Jill gently pull her hand away and gave Lena a pat on the back.

Who else is here.. Jill gaze over the rest of the room. An older gentleman was seated in an armchair by the door of the main hall with a younger man leaning against the wall next to them while having a smoke. Then there was a girl with auburn hair who was joined by Moira, the redhead Jill had already met. She was about to go talk to them when she heard an odd sound, a groan or perhaps a moan, which was followed by rustling coming from the reading room. Jill move quietly to get a closer look. [Skill challenge 4, Jill succeeds with intrigue down at 6.] The door of the reading room was unlocked and she open it just enough to see inside. Jill saw two women in the middle of putting their clothes back on. The other was wore an uniform, though their shirt was open and show a teasing sight.. Jenny Bailey. Jill knew their name and remember that they were a patrol police, but she couldn’t recall much more about them. Their short blonde hair was messy and the bare skin Jill saw through their open shirt was glistering with sweat. They had their pants on, but their belt was unbuckled.

“Fuck, that was good..” Jenny sigh as she buckle her belt and check their equipment. “You keep this up and I will protect you well.” Jill felt disgusted upon seeing the way Jenny bit their lower lip. They use their position as a police officer to get favors. “Just remember that I will get it when I want it.. Otherwise I might just leave you behind.”

At their feet lay a young girl with long dark hair. They were breathing heavily, their legs were spread and their skirt was discarded beside them. Only thing that cover their body was their shirt which was open like Jenny’s, but unlike the officer’s shirt theirs missed some buttons that were torn off and scattered around them. With trembling hands she push herself to sit up and then went to tie their messy hair on a ponytail to try to fix their appearance. “Just.. Just say when.”

Jill close the door and back away. At least they didn’t notice me. She knew that knowing the group dynamic could be helpful, but being too curious might get her in trouble. This time Jill got lucky.

Next she approach the men, but once she got closer the young man smirk and push himself off the wall and put himself between her and the seated gentleman. “We are not interested in your goods, lady.” He sneer at Jill and motion dismissively towards her frame with his hand. He look at her like a piece of meat waiting to be used.

“Let her pass, son.” The gentleman laugh and then apologize. “Tommy can be a bit overzealous.” The older man was wearing an overcoat with a fur collar and a fedora. They lay their eyes on Jill and indulge himself by measuring her worth with his gaze before speaking up again. “Would you be interested in shopping?” He pat the suitcase that was next to his chair. “Abraham Sanford, peddler.” His voice had charm which his harsh looking eyes lacked. He was in his late fourties, maybe early fifties. “My inventory is small at the moment with the way I had very little time to back up my things before coming here.” He look over Jill once more, this time focusing on what she carry rather than on her curves. “To think of it.. You look like someone who can handle themselves.” Abraham then look at Tommy with a sly smile which clearly frustrate them, but before he could say anything he address Jill again. “Would you like to help me to retrieve my inventory? It’s in the Apple Inn hotel, not far from here.” He snort and laugh “I’m only asking because my boy Tommy here is too afraid of doing it by themselves.”

“Fuck that.” Tommy huff at Abraham and correct him. “I’m not that stupid to pull such a stunt on my own, there is a difference.” He then look at Jill which had the annoyed expression melt away in favor of another sneer “But your idea isn’t half bad, she looks good.” It was clear that he was talking more about Jill’s features rather than about the way she carry herself, but either way Tommy was sold on the idea. “What do you say, lady?”

“You can call me Jill.” She spoke past Tommy not to enoucare him or give him the satisfaction, but Jill did consider the task. “I won’t promise anything, not yet at least.” She gave Tommy a glance. Their jeans were rugged, the leather jacket worn out and he fit the image of a paid thug. Still they were handsome, but their leering made it clear they were trouble.. He is undressing me in his mind. Jill wasn’t too keen on the idea of going out to the streets with a guy like him, but if the items there or the reward for retrieving them was worth it she might just risk it. “What exactly did you leave back at the hotel?”

Abraham’s smile turn into a smirk. “This and that.” He didn’t give an answer, but it was enough to imply that whatever was at the hotel was illegal. “Medicine, spare parts.. Whatever you might need.” He then shrug and lean back in his chair “We can negotiate the reward and I might just give you a better deal for the items I have with me right now if you are willing to help us with this matter.”

[Unlocked a merchant : Abraham Sanford]

A peddler and a smuggler accompanied by a paid thug.. Jill felt uneasy. The reward might be good, but involving herself with people like them was a great risk. She doubt that failure or being in debt to them would turn out well. “I have to think this over.” She would decide on that later.

Excusing herself Jill left the men alone. She could still feel each of them follow her with their gaze, both with different interests. The last person she hadn’t talk to was the girl with auburn hair who was with Moira. As she approach them she saw Moira already putting on a bright smile and waving Jill to join them. At least someone likes me.

“Jill!” Moira greet her again and despite the earlier disappointment they look much more hopeful now. “Greta here told me who you were.” She look almost excited as she point at the girl with auburn hair. “She remembers you from the papers.”

“You are from S.T.A.R.S.. Jill Valentine, right?” Greta said it as if she was asking, but it was more like she was seeking for confirmation for something she already knew. “I told Moira who you were and that we are going to be okay now that you are here.” Greta’s hope and trust for Jill was great despite the fact the news she recognize the former S.T.A.R.S. member had covered Jill’s suspension from the police force. She took Jill’s hand and playfully tug her closer between her and Moira so that she could whisper into her ear. “I won’t tell anyone else who you are, but I believe in you. You will get us out.”

Hot breath.. Jill was between the two, each standing close to her and Greta’s breath wash over her neck. “T-Thanks.” She stutter back quietly and linger between them until it start to become too much. The attention she receive after witnessing what took place in the reading room was distracting. “Is there any other officers here?

Greta nod and nod towards the upper walkway. “There is two officers right above us.” She let go off Jill’s hand and step away after adding “They are still trying.. The third one is just..” She drift off. Greta didn’t say more about it. “I don’t think they care what happens to us.” They were talking about Jenny, the officer Jill had seen dress up after using and blackmailing one of the survivors.

“I will go talk to the officers upstairs and see what comes out of it.” Jill rest her hand on Greta’s shoulder to comfort them. “Just hang in there, both of you.” She look Greta and Moira in the eyes with determination, trying her best to give them a reason to believe in her despite Jill herself wasn’t sure what to do. Jill gave them a quick smile as she head towards the stairs. I hope they will listen and hear me out.

Make note that we have two votes this time!

[What items the merchant should sell?]

[Vote for what Jill should do]

[khiphop-discussions]

SMTM6 Ep.5 Comments/Highlights

I’m giving the world longest and hardest eye roll at the producer team ranking.

Bitch...I would be talking so much shit if I was on this show. I don’t really fuck with Kasper either but all the smug looks and giggling I would’ve been like “Yo, shut the fuck up. what are you laughing for?” (that’s the first thing that I said in my head when I saw all that)

There’s only like 3 girls left out of 35. Truedy, Asol, and Kasper

Double K’s voice is so fucking cool. How dare he.

Hanhae wanting to look cool lol

Look at my best friend Young B!

Thank you captain obvious for saying you think Kasper will be eliminated

Tiger JK is so petty lol he started insulting Double K when he picked DoPark team.

Ja Mezz saying “OHHHHHHHH” to himself when he got called. Bitch if that ain’t me...

Junoflo’s dopey ass laugh at Sleepy’s joke lol

Zico’s ass so easily excited and it’s starting to irritate me. Someone: *breathes into the mic* Zico: *gasps deeply, puts hands over mouth, jumps a bit, grabs and looks at Dean*

Everyone is so sad to see Sleepy go.

This episode is moving by quick. I think because they are showing so many different people. Part 2

Hangzoo goes Double D but fakes them out...They rude as FUCK this season. He goes Team Zean

This third battle and everybody’s like “I think they’ll call me” Well DUH it’s only two more matches left you HAVE to get picked pretty soon.

Jay Moon is still there? I have him leaving probably.

Woochan would have done good in that group though? They aren’t that good. Sohyun or 1Kyne is the second best so the level isn’t that high. Woochan’s gonna have a hard time in that 4th group though.

Now let’s see if this group can be above expectations.

Prince of the Birds goes first. That was whack though

1Kyne killing it though. He messed up a bit so he’ll probably get eliminated.

Woodie should go...

Did she just say Nucksal unnie? lol

1kyne left. At least we got to see you dude! It was nice seeing you, enjoy vacation! Or enjoy being back if you’re back already lol

Woochan, Daeil, Junoflo, Asol, Truedy, P-type, and one more person I can’t think of right now are the final group. Maybe Olltii? (actually Woochan and P-Type weren’t in that group)

I’m so damn tired of Nucksal. How you just gone moonwalk back? He’s on Team DD

Wait but there’s still people left over so will there be a 5th battle? Yeah there is. I know truedy gets eliminated at some point.

Woochan kinda sounds like Samuel Kim. But they are both young boys so it’s probably the universal puberty voice.

Jay is being fucking irritating now too....

I think Juno gets 1st place too

I liked Asol on that cypher

Sungpil gets eliminated so I guess Truedy just doesn’t get picked for a team and that’s how she gets eliminated. No, actually TWO rappers got eliminated from here. I guess they tied and that’s how she goes home. I feel like that should mean the 5th group no one gets eliminated but I’m sure that’s not how it’ll go.

Juno is so handsome

He rude lol

Woochan. I  wanna bake him cookies and buy him powerpuff girls ice creams from the ice cream truck.

Bitch...he said Mino (the guy’s name is Rhino). I don’t even know if he was trying to be shady or not but if he was then that’s some top tier shade and I appreciate it Woochan lol

Rhino ain’t bad.

KG isn’t good in this round to me but I’ve never been that big of a fan. He was better in other rounds.

I think Woochan is gonna be eliminated everyone else just too good.

One of his bars said “one punch” I don’t think he’s referencing that group but that would be hella cool if he was considering the Samuel comparison lol.

Oh shit. It was Ocean. I forgot about him. Sorry Ocean but we needed Woochan. I can’t believe Wonjae got ranked lower than Woochan but apparently he did. I guess people are getting tired of the same thing.

Chan got 3rd place

KG got first. I thought he’d get last and get eliminated

His team is to be continued. So that’s all for now!

[teecupangel]

From @noficbyhalves’ tags

#i love this #desmond 'the universe keeps putting me in Situations' miles #altair gleefully noticing that his two singular divine requests are 'dont die' and 'do a murder' #man has never been more prepared for anything in his life #*rolls up sleeves* congrats you've activated my special interest. no i am not stopping #rip juno tbh #assassins creed #altaïr ibn la’ahad #altair is a little shit #desmond miles #i ship desmond miles with being alive

From @knine-nights-loves-ac

Oh I’m loving Altaïr and Desmond. Juno’s going to be very confused and what I wouldn’t give to see her smug bitch ass face when she realizes these puny humans are greater than her and she’s not going to survive this. Altaïr would give Desmond a show. And god I’d pay to see that show too

All the Isus know they have no choice.

This anomaly, the being that goes by the name Altaïr…

He wasn’t human.

But he wasn’t an Isu as well.

Yet he was able to control everything they ever made easily.

Anything he touches immediately gets upgraded into its most powerful state.

Some of them do not last long, the sudden surge of power leading to instability that sooner or later end up overheating itself.

And he seemed to always know when it was about to happen, throwing them to explode at their soldiers.

The humans were winning. Slowly but surely they were being pushed to the brink.

Minerva’s calls for a truce had been a way to save themselves without showing their desperation.

Minerva might not realize it though. She was too focused on the impending danger of the Solar Flare.

Altaïr ordered them to meet him in the Garden of Eden, a facility that used to create humans, now turned into rubble by the humans’ first wave of attack.

The rubble around a meeting table had been cleared and the man sat at the head of the table.

A lot of the Isus bristled at the sight of a supposed human sitting at the highest of the sitting order.

Minerva found them annoying.

What used was a seating arrangement at this point?

“Greetings, Altaïr.” Minerva bowed slightly, ignoring the looks from the Isus who had come with her. Altaïr sat alone and there was no sign of any humans around.

They could just as easily be hiding in the rubble all around them.

The humans’ greatest army was directly under Altaïr, going by the title of the Assassin Brotherhood.

Their way was the way of the shadows.

It wouldn’t be surprising if they were actually surrounded by humans ready to kill them, simply waiting for their mentor’s signal.

“Let’s get this over with.” Altaïr said as he showed Minerva some kind of memory storage device the size of his thumb, “I’ve put here all the information I have concerning the incoming Solar Flare. I will give this to you after you complete my demand.”

“You insolen-”

“What is your demand?” Minerva asked, cutting off whatever biting remark one of her guards was about to say, glaring at him for daring to speak without being ordered to.

“And how can we be sure of the validity of your information?” Her father, Tinia added as he sat on the chair directly in front of Altaïr. He looked at Tinia with a calm expression, “I do not wish to insult you but Minerva had only learned of the incoming Solar Flare three days ago. It seems… ‘strange’ that you’re able to give us information about it already.”

“My patron is very forthcoming about everything and anything I desire.” Altaïr stated.

‘Patron’.

That was the ‘title’ of what the Isus believed to be the one who created Altaïr.

Or modified him.

Altaïr spoke of his patron as if they were his god and many believe they were a rogue Isu who was now hiding behind the monster they had created.

Finding the identity of this rogue Isu was one of the priorities before when the war had reached its peak.

But now…

“If perhaps we were to talk to your patron…” Tinia clarified quickly, “Just to talk about where they have gotten this information so we may verify it-”

Altaïr sighed and crushed the memory storage device in his hand.

“No!” Minerva shouted as she took a step forward, face paling as her eyes widened.

“I already know what must be done concerning this Solar Flare.” Altaïr said as the remains of the memory storage device fell to the table. He placed his hand over it and the ring in his finger glowed.

Everything occupying the space below his palm, the size of an Apple of Eden, disappeared in a flash.

Leaving nothing but a crater…

“I do not need you or your kind.” Altaïr stood as he looked down at Tinia, “I am reaching out only because my patron is kind.”

“I am not.” Altaïr reminded them, “Our side can make preparations on our own. We have no need for you and your kind.”

Altaïr raised his head to stare at Minerva, “If you wish for a chance then you will complete my demand. Only then will I give you a copy of what I know.”

“… and… what is your demand?” Minerva asked, hands slightly trembling.

“Juno’s head served in a silver platter.” Altaïr announced, “Try to keep her conscious alive in any way or fail to fully kill her and you forfeit any and all possibilities of me sharing anything to you.”

“Juno?!” Tinia shouted as he stood, “But she’s-”

“Experimented on humans in Atlantis with her husband.” Altaïr reminded him, “Something that is forbidden by your laws.”

Altaïr returned his focus on Minerva, “My patron believes you will make the right choice. I do not.”

“Kill Juno and ensure she cannot be revived by any means possible. That is my demand.” Altaïr began to walk away as he said, “We will schedule our next meeting after I received her head.”

Normally, Desmond is sent back in time to mess with things.

But what if it wasn't him?

Like, maybe Desmond couldn't go back in time himself but he could, in the split second he touched the apple, send someone else.

What if one of his ancestors went back in time? (Upon their deaths or something.)

I imagine a young Altair (who might be using a fake name) running around Italy with a tired Ezio following like a worried mother hen. (No, Claudia, he is not hovering he is just concerned) He ends up taking Altair under his wing (No, Claudia, it is not adoption.)

Or maybe Altair ends up in Bayek's time, Oh! Or Connor in Ezio's time. (Edward and Ezio would either get along badly or be too powerful if they were together in the same time period.)

These boys ruin the timeline and somehow save the world/future by simply stumbling through everything with no clue what's going on. and of course the power of friendship and really sharp blades.

Desmond and Clay are laughing their asses off in the afterlife as their ancestors destroy centuries worth of carefully calculated plans. (They might also manipulate things a little to help.)

And the time traveling ancestors for the most part, are doing the best they can in their current situation.

They are freaking the fuck out the whole time but are excellent at hiding it.

Poor Ezio.

(No, Altair, you can't kill that person because that have information we need, yes, I'm sure, Claudia don't encourage him.)

Well… How about we add some… ‘order’ to the chaos?

Desmond only had a fraction of a second to send his ancestor back in time.

And he hesitated.

He didn’t know which one to send.

Should it be Altaïr? Altaïr always felt like he would find out what to do even if he was given only minimal clues.

But Ezio was his prophet, the one he had been with the longest…

Ratonhnhaké:ton though… he deserves answers. He deserves the truth.

And when he woke up…

In that endless sea of gray…

The first word he heard were…

“’Morning. Which fucked up timeline do you want to hear first?”

Desmond sat and blinked as Clay stood before him, arms crossed with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Uuuhh…”

“Do you want to hear about how Edward Kenway managed to save his grandson and his grandson’s mother from the fires that should have killed her?” Clay asked before adding, “Oh… and he’s learned that his son’s a Templar by the way. At least, one of his old friends believe he’s actually Edward Kenway. If you think the Kenway Family Drama is bad when you were reliving Connor’s memories, then you gotta see the top tier drama that’s happening with Edward and Haytham right now.”

“Or maybe you want to hear about how Connor got kicked into Ezio’s time? He has no idea what’s happening but he got appointed as Federico’s combat instructor. He knows jackshit, by the way, about the tragedy that’s about to happen but, hey, at least Giovanni believes he’s an Assassin from another country or something. Oh.” Clay rubbed his chin as he added, “Connor doesn’t like how close Giovanni is with the Medici by the way. Lorenzo reminds him a bit of Washington or maybe he’s projecting, who knows?”

“Maybe you’ll like to know how your dear prophet is doing? Well, he’s doing badly in preserving the damn timeline that’s for sure. Let’s see… he got in touch with Alamut and managed to bluff his way into making them believe he’s the mentor of a destroyed Assassin branch from the crusader lands, he got the mentor’s permission to make his own branch in Levant, made a deal with said mentor to become a thorn in Al Mualim’s side and find out what he’s hiding, adopted Altaïr and even went as far as adopt Abbas because he believed he could ‘change’ things.” Clay was quiet for a moment before he added, “Oh and his branch is in the underground temple in Jerusalem so he has the Apple with him already.”

“Then there’s Altaïr.” Clay said with such… annoyance Desmond was actually afraid of what Altaïr had done. Clay rubbed the side of his forehead as he started, “See, they can only be transported into what counts as their past so we can’t have something like Altaïr being pushed into his future in Ezio’s time or something. And, since your only instruction to the Moraes was to ‘change the past’, they had to improvise with Altaïr considering he’s more or less the starting point. They had to pick another one of your ancestors who was important to your past and this world’s future so…”

“Altaïr’s been sent to the time of the Isu-Human war and his knowledge of the POEs and getting unconstrained access to the POEs at their full power… well… let’s just say…” Clay’s tone was drier than the desert as he said, “The Isus didn’t know what hit them.”

Desmond could only stare at Clay as he said.

“Soooo… which one do you want to contact first as their ‘patron’?”