#philíp

[storytimefromthecreed]

What are the assassins' coffee/tea preferences?

Altaïr drinks traditional tea, but only in social settings. He’s not a coffee guy.

Malik, on the other hand, don’t you dare speak to him until he’s had 2 cups of coffee. The first one he drinks noiselessly, staring out the window. He’s not awake until the second one. He drinks his coffee black.

Aya in the EXACT same way. Only disgruntled noises until she gets coffee. Bayek wakes up earlier than she does, so he gets the coffee ready before he goes for a run so the smell wakes her up.

Ezio is a latte guy. He likes his coffee like he likes his friends, sweet. 💕

Arno drinks coffee in the morning and shots of expresso to get through the day. No need to make it fancy, he drinks it straight.

Connor is a tea lover! He drinks it at night with a good book to go to sleep.

Jacob is a specialty coffee guy, he’s a big lover of pumpkin spice lattes and you can’t change my mind.

Evie drinks exotic tea tea, dragonfruit tea, mango spice, you name it!

Henry drinks chai 🇮🇳 and he makes it for the rest of the Brotherhood. They all have chai together and talk. Especially with Malik, Altaïr, and Bayek.

Bayek drinks neither.

Yusuf drinks Turkish tea, which is amazing if you’ve never had it.

Kassandra drinks neither.

Alexios isn’t allowed to have coffee.

Haytham drinks tea, has a cuppa every morning and evening with Connor, if he’s around, or his Father.

Edward drinks neither.

Adewalé drinks caramel frappes! Just don’t tell anyone, it’s his secret addiction!

Aveline loves tea! She got into it because of Connor and it’s not uncommon to spy them sipping tea on the porch in the evening. She also got him into sweet tea.

Desmond drinks either, doesn’t care what it is as long as he’s not the one making it.

Shaun drinks both! He apologizes to the Queen whenever he drinks coffee instead of tea.

Rebecca drinks coffee.

Demetrí doesn’t drink either.

Phillíp is a tea drinker, any form of green tea.

Gèrard is a coffee drinker, and isn’t picky about how it’s prepared.

Shay doesn’t need coffee, Shay is so giddy and jittery on coffee, does he drink it? Yes. He makes his own coffee.

Liam doesn’t mind a cup of coffee in the morning, but he doesn’t need it.

[philose7]

Chớ lo-phiền chi hết, nhưng trong mọi sự hãy dùng lời cầu-nguyện, nài-xin, và sự tạ ơn mà trình các sự cầu-xin của mình cho Đức Chúa Trời.

Phi-líp 4:6 VB1925

[storytimefromthecreed]

The next part of “Something Blue Something Borrowed” is up on the AO3! Enjoy :)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21655879/chapters/58489777

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[storytimefromthecreed]

An Actual Conversation in the Assassin Household

Assassins (all gathered together and on their best behavior): Altair! Who's your favorite?

Altair: How could I choose one of my children? Would you have me pick a favorite arm? Which lung helps me breathe better?

Maria: It's Connor.

[storytimefromthecreed]

Arno: "You're an Assassin. Act like it."

Gérard, Philíp, Demetrì, Arno, and herself weaved through the crowd, painfully aware of the grumbles and mutters. She glanced their surroundings from her place in front of the dress shop. To anyone else, she was a woman watching the people in the street, but to an Assassin, she was checking vantage points.

Gérard and Arno were opposite the street from her, and Gérard ran his hand through his hair, acknowledging her briefly before looking away. Philíp and Demetrì were standing beside a carriage, dressed in rags as to not attract unwelcome eyes.

The Frenchman, excluding Arno, came from the richest of France’s nobility. Gérard’s family came from lumber, Philíp’s from sea trade, and Demetrì’s from metal work. But the recent shifts in power weren’t kind to the rich. They were targeted and robbed by angry mobs or beat within an inch of their lives, so when Philíp’s parent decided to host a gala to raise funds and hope for the crown and the people, the Assassins knew they had to intervene.

The crowd was turning ugly as more nobles reached the large, gated house. The chanting grew quick and loud.

It was when the gate opened to allow the carriage inside that people ran through. They shook the carriage, and pulled the horseman from his post. They ran towards the house, and Philíp ran after them. It was madness. The crowd pried open the gates, running towards the house, and she looked to Arno, who nodded towards the carriage and yelled something over the noise. She took off to him. The people were prying open the doors of the carriage, pulling at whoever was inside. Arno leapt onto the carriage and kicked them down, Gérard was right behind him.

“This is madness.” Arno tried to kick a man down, but the man held onto his leg and attempted to pull him into the crowd.

(Y/N), from her place on the ground, kicked the man in the groin, and pushed him away. No one was interested in the carriage anymore. They were interested now in the house. From where they stood, she could see Philíp and Demetrì constructing a barricade on the yard with a few other Assassins, some guests, and some house workers.

She made her way to them, but bumped into something. She looked down, and was surprised to see big, wide eyes staring back at her. They were filled with tears.

“I can’t find my father.” The little girl sniffled. She reached a hand up, but (Y/N) took a step back, still looking at her friends in need.

“I can’t help you, I’m sorry.” She pushed past the girl, and stalked off. France needed her more than this child did.

“(Y/N)!” Arno leapt down. He sounded disappointed.

“What would you have me do?” She asked, whirling around.

“You’re an Assassin.” He said in disbelief, “Act like it.” He knelt down to the girl, and smiled kindly. “I’ll help you find your father. Where did you last see him?”

“The Assassins need us.” She argued, but he picked the girl up and walked the opposite way down the now deserted street.

“The Assassins are trained for this, they’ll be fine.” He said with a backward glance. “This is our job, (Y/N), to protect the innocent. Don’t let this time of tension make you forget that.”

She watched him go with a sigh before heading off to join the Frenchmen. They hardy ever fought. France wasn’t the only thing filled with tension these days.

[storytimefromthecreed]

Arno, A Man of No Words

You scanned the streets below. Paris was falling asleep. People walked in clumps or pairs back through the night, and you repress a shiver as the cold wind slides through the back of your hood and down your spine.

Light footfalls and the sound of cloth against skin makes you turn you head, and you smile when you see the boys. Demetrì, Philíp, and Gérard land first, almost identically, and Philíp smiles at you.

“(Y/N)! You’re looking well!” He walks to you to give you a hug, but Demetrì gets to you first. He takes your hand and gives it a kiss, smirking at Philíp.

“You’re looking lovely.” He said, and you blush slightly and awkwardly laugh while withdrawing your hand.

“You boys are sweet.” You say, scanning behind them. “Where’s-?”

Arno landed on the roof before you could finish your sentence, and you automatically smile in his presence. The boys snickering catches your attention, but you decide not to glare at them. Arno distracts you.

He lowers his hood and shakes his head, his hair wild and disheveled. “Hey (Y/N), you look lovely this evening.” He said as he ties up his hair.

“Beat you to it.” Demetrì teases and puts an arm around your shoulders. “If you’re going to flirt, you have to try better than that.” You elbow his stomach, and he retreats a safe distance.

“Thank you. You look well too. I like your hair.” You chuckle, and Arno self consciously attempts to tame his windblown mane.

“Thank you.” He smiles and then overlooks the city before looking back at you. “We were free running when we noticed you. What captures your attention this evening?” You would’ve said his eyes because right now you can’t seem to escape them, but you turn to the city.

“I was just enjoying the view. Isn’t she beautiful?”

“She is.” He sighed, and you turn to him.

“What’s your favorite part of Paris?” You ask, and he shakes his head. The boys are laughing again, but now you don’t know why.

“Um, you?” He means it as a sentence, but his fear makes it a question. You giggle and lightly push at his shoulder.

“You’re such a joker, Arno.”

“For the love of-!” Gérard crossed the roof in a huff and stood before you. His green eyes glared between you and Arno. “He likes you, she likes you. Now hurry up and ask this girl on a date or for the sake of all that is holy, I swear Arno, I will end myself rather than watch this,” He gestured to you two, at a loss for words, “unfold.”

No one spoke. You feel your cheeks get red hot, for embarrassment, fear, or relief, you don’t know. Thankfully, Arno clearing his throat pulls you away from Gérard’s unhappy stare. His warm, brown eyes were like cool water after a hot day, relieving, and you notice his cheeks are a bit red too.

“Would you like to, if you want and are able, go to dinner with me?” He asked.

“I’d love to.” You beam.

Gérard nods his head in approval, and the boys cheer.