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macklin celebrini has autism
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let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
The Bright Sessions
#extradirty
Today's Document
No title available
YOU ARE THE REASON
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
@theartofmadeline
The Bowery Presents
todays bird
occasionally subtle
NASA
seen from Malaysia
seen from India
seen from Iraq
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from Malaysia
seen from Brazil
seen from France
seen from Georgia
seen from Vietnam
seen from Germany
seen from Canada
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Chile
seen from Israel
seen from United States
seen from Australia
seen from Canada
seen from Russia
@saviourofworld-blog
HOLY SHIT. I’VE BARELY BEEN ON HERE YET I ALREADY HAVE 50 FOLLOWERS?? WHAT THE HELL.. I’M SPEECHLESS HONESTLY. THANK YOU SO MUCH, I WANT TO BE MORE ACTIVE BUT LIFE IS MAKING IT HARD TO DO SO. YOU CAN FIND ME ON MY STUFF BELOW IF YOU WANNA TALK, JUST LEMME KNOW WHO YOU ARE!
skype - blxodyknuckles discord - tragic at best #3511
Hey! I know people don’t really makes these little promo’s anymore but i thought it would be convenient as a still new ( side ) account. Would people kindly LIKE or REBLOG this if they are willing to interact with a MAINLY modern Frederick Abberline from AC SYNDICATE. A reminder that this i an side account to BLXODYKNUCKLES, so all follows will come from that url!
someone: i wanna send you a meme but i dont know if--
me: *crawls across the table and squishes your cheeks* Do it. Send it to me. Send me twenty.
egyptiandeathgod:
“Because you were not ready.”
He answers back, turning the page of an ancient book. He sighed heavily, closing the dusty cover.
“You’re still in the same world. The flare was merely reversed a millennia or so. Your world is still the way it is.”
Rising from his seat to turn & face Desmond. The Isu comes forward to raise his hand, stroking the man’s cheek.
“You desire to know why I have claimed you? Why I saved you alone?”
He murmured. The way he’s looking at Desmond is not with the usual distant coldness. There’s want, hunger, & something gentle.
“not ready? you think i’m going to really fall for that bullshit?” desmond was lashing out, it wasn’t right but he deserved some answers. he nearly moved from the stroking against his cheek, emotions on high. eyes flickered between anubis’ as he saw that look in his eyes, no longer the same coldness he had gotten use to, but the desire and perhaps gentle while looking at desmond, it made the skin under the Isu’s touch feverish.
“yes.. tell me.. i want to know why i’m so important that you saved me, and only me, why you decided that i NEEDED to be yours.”
impetuous-brother:
He blinked a few times with the other’s response. It looked as if he had taken a moment to process what he had said. How odd.
“South Dakota? That’s in America… right?” He asked, his tone revealing he was not entirely sure. Maybe that’s why this guy dressed so differently… Maybe. “I have a friend from there. Not South Dakota, I mean. From New York City.”
It certainly sounded like one of the states in the country. He had been taught many lessons of different subjects as a child, and this was definitely not one he had remembered. The only places the Assassin really knew were where Ned was from and other famous cities.
“The… year?” He repeated, furrowing his eyebrows confusedly. Not knowing the hour or day of the week was one thing, but the year?
“It’s 1869.” He took a step, adding, “Are you alright? I don’t mean to offend but you don’t seem… entirely alright.”
nodding his head a little, his burned hand reached up to rub at his temple, eyes closed as he listened, too lost in his own thoughts and pain to look at the man, too confused about what is happening. “new york is fairly close, i use to live there before everything went to shit.” right.. like this guy needed a sob story, just get on with it.. eyes flickered up to look at the man, eyes focused on him as he spoke the year.. no.. it couldn’t be, could it?
“w-wait what? 1869..?” but as soon as the man took a step forward, desmond wanted to take a step back, he wasn’t hooked up to the animus or some fucked up machine that allowed him to travel so far back. he was PHYSICALLY here. “no, i don’t think i am alright..” his arm hurt, all burned from when he was suppose to die, save the word from it’s end, the thunderbolt like marks glowed which in return made him pull the sleeve of his hoodie down, not wanting to draw even MORE attention to himself. “i-i.. London, 1869.. i’m not suppose to be here.. i’m from the year..” he cut himself off, not chancing it and maybe fucking things up even more.
eyes settled on the brutish man again and his body wanted to collapse, how this even be happening?
OH, i forgot to say this because i’ve been hella busy and shit but my desmond is like he survives from the whole accident/death from AC3, he has a burned arm/hand but it glows white-gold with thunderbolt like markings, having absorbed some of the power when he was suppose to die.
COMBAT!
REPOST, DON’T REBLOG!
★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ ☆ ☆ — strength ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ ☆ ☆ — offense ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ — defense ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ ☆ ☆ — speed ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ ☆ — durability ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ — accuracy ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ ☆ ☆ — agility ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ — stamina ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ — teamwork ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ ☆ — stealth ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ — close combat ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ — bladed weapons ( swords, dagger/s ) ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ — blunt weapons ( club/s, staff/s ) ★ ★ ★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ — ranged weapons ( archery, gun/s ) ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ ☆ — superpowers / abilities ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ — traps/setups ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ — medic
(any lasting injuries from combat? ) –
Yes, the scar along his lips.
fighting style? ( bold any that apply. ) –
commander / duelist / honorable / dishonorable / would have others do their fighting / stealthy / long-ranged / melee / technological / sorcery / superhuman abilities / has fought in a tourney / a lover of fighting / a hater of fighting / cowardly / reckless / strategic / uses underhand tricks / renowned for their skill / trained / untrained / keeps skill secret / won a battle / lost a battle / ruthless / merciful
tagged by: @impetuous-brother tagging: anyone who wants to do this!
@joseph-dredd @saviourofworld @thepyrrhicpyro
inquietatemplar:
“Laugh all you want, just as long as it’s not at me,” Rafaello growled back in response, continuing to glare at the other man for a moment longer before letting him go and shoving him backwards. If he had continued laughing, the Templar would probably have acted more on the situation, but thankfully didn’t seem to be planning on doing so yet.
letting himself be shoved backwards, desmond glared daggers and growled italian slurs, ones that left his mouth without even realizing it. a good habit thanks to his ancestor. “don’t tell me how to live my life si figa.” the assassin couldn’t handle it anymore, with a few steps he took a swing and landed a hopeful punch at the templar’s jaw, pure anger blazed in his veins, he wanted the man bloody and on the verge of death, he could only imagine what he could do to make that happen, it made the corners of his lips curl into a twisted grin.
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
whoisbannerman:
` I spy a fan with a sick scar. ′ he taps at the his upper lip to emphasize what he was talking about ` Please don’t tell me y’got from kissing somebody or ———actually if you did get it from kissing somebody, that’s a kind of story I SO want to hear, bartender who’s also a fan.′
“ you’re right about the scar , but a fan ? pftt.. nah. “ he grinned before raising his hand to touch over the scar , almost forgetting the thing was even THERE. shrugging his shoulder , desmond liked the idea of keeping some mystery , especially if it meant it was going to drive the other up the wall. “ if i was a fan that would be somethin’ special , but YOU must be a fan to know i’m a bartender , not many people know that. “ he pointed out with a smirk , it was true he worked at a nightclub called bad weather but not many people knew of it at all , nor did he want people to know most times.
"i spy with my little eye , a certain beanie vigilante.."
desmond should've known as soon as he walked in from the back of the building, that the nightclub was going to be busy, that people would be within the nightclub all over both levels of the building. being the only bartender to make it in for the night was a little nerve wracking but he couldn't complain, he was getting good money in the end. pulling off the coat he shifted his clothes and walked to the bar, opening time soon. he could already feel the suffocating air of the club and it was empty. within the few hours that passed, desmond was pleased, tips were the riches of the night, he brushed off pretty women and men who thought they could get their way with aggression. it was enough that with a a few words, he could make the few back off, not worth the fight. eyes followed a figure that walked in, watching as they looked around for a bit and walked towards the bar. "want something?" he asked with a questioning look. starter. ( @inquietatemplar. )
@saviourofworld liked for a starter!
“Your outfit is rather strange,” Jacob noted, looking the stranger up and down. In fact he didn’t think he had ever seen somebody that dressed like he did. Not that he disliked it; it was just unfamiliar.
“I’m guessing you’re not from England.”
spacing out, desmond didn’t even realize someone was talking to him at first, before he knew it, a man was talking to him, much different from himself. “i - uhm.. yeah.. i’m not from england. i’m actually from south dakota.” smooth desmond.. just fucking stutter and i’m sure the guy will understand you; totally.
“i’m sorry but.. what time is it.. like the year?” his head pounded painfully and the area around him just didn’t seem too right.
I’M SICK OF BEING A GODDAMN PAWN!
he’d done it for fun, see how the other would react, since desmond only saw a few sides, rigid and cold, smirking bastard, and complete asshole. but he expected something, a punch to the face was just the surface of what he thought would happen, a hiss of pain slithered past a clenched jaw, hand raising to touch the punched area of his face, but the next thing to follow was totally out of character, even for himself. he started to laugh. it was though the kiss on his cheek froze him for a moment or two, but then he acted with aggression, which he couldn’t blame him.
“o-oh that was priceless!” he exclaimed, laughing still, enough that it would make his stomach ache soon.
Continuation. ( @inquietatemplar. )
The fact that Desmond started laughing at him only managed to make Rafaello even angrier.
“Stop it,” he demanded, glaring coldly at the Assassin. When Desmond failed to do so, however, and kept laughing, Rafaello responded in the only way he knew how - by lashing out once again at the man.
This time, he moved forward to try and grab the collar of the other’s shirt, hopefully holding him still and shaking him out of that laughing fit.
the laughing he'd been doing hurt his stomach, but what surprised him was when he was grabbed and shaked when he didn't listen to the man. surprised was an understatement, it made him stop all together but grab at the wrists of raf, slightly narrowed eyes looking up at him. he didn't like this. nor did he like how CLOSE the other was to him, it brought on the phantom pain of when he'd been stabbed.
"not aloud to laugh am i? do you wish me to be nothing, you're basically already STRIPPING me of all i am." he snapped, he wanted to go back to the nightclub, work and just have a great time, not be stuck with rafaello.. he hated desmond, why? he didn't know.
he’d done it for fun, see how the other would react, since desmond only saw a few sides, rigid and cold, smirking bastard, and complete asshole. but he expected something, a punch to the face was just the surface of what he thought would happen, a hiss of pain slithered past a clenched jaw, hand raising to touch the punched area of his face, but the next thing to follow was totally out of character, even for himself. he started to laugh. it was though the kiss on his cheek froze him for a moment or two, but then he acted with aggression, which he couldn’t blame him.
“o-oh that was priceless!” he exclaimed, laughing still, enough that it would make his stomach ache soon.
Continuation. ( @inquietatemplar. )
